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Updated: May 23, 2025
Our Albanian guides chuckled and chanted their own nasal songs in a different key as an accompaniment. Far away we saw a tiny light Jabooka. We stretched our legs and hurried along, but alas! the inn room was full.
We cheered as she brought it in. Tea, bully beef, and our last biscuits comprised our dinner, which we ate in big gulps, after which we sang "Three blind mice" as a digestive. The half-open door was full of peering faces, so somewhat encouraged we gave them a selection of rounds. We left next morning early in a heavy downpour, after being exorbitantly charged, glad to leave Jabooka for ever.
"But look at them," she expostulated, holding out a large basket of apples; and we suddenly remembered that "Jabooka" means also apples, and realized that she was not a land agent. Then on once more. In the deep valleys were large modern sawmills, but the houses were ever poor, and the windows grew smaller and smaller and were without glass.
But it looked very uninviting we remembered the cheery hostess of Jabooka, the woman who came from "other parts," and knew a thing or two about cleanliness. Every one agreed to go on. Willett was rather better, so we forged ahead in the downpour and the dark, splashing through puddles and singing everything we knew.
The dusk found us still floundering in the mud on wayside paths. It began to pour. The hills above us became white a straight line being drawn between snow and rain and our guides wanted us to spend the night at an inn two hours before we reached Jabooka.
"Is this Jabooka?" we asked, for we had been told to alight at Jabooka. "No," said the driver; "we cannot reach Jabooka to-night. But here are fine beds, fine, fine, fine!" We climbed in. The rooms were whitewashed and looked all right, but there was a funny smell. We shall know what it means a second time. There was a crowd of American Montenegrin volunteers in the kitchen.
There were more groups of Americans trudging along, and also a fair number of peasants, the women, as usual, dignified and beautiful. Very hungry we at last came to Jabooka. A jolly woman we were getting away from "Pod" welcomed us and dragged us into the kitchen. She asked Jo many questions, one being, "What relation is he to you, that man with whom you travel?"
The fire on the floor was nearly out, but she rained sticks on to it, blew up the great central log, which is the backbone, into a blaze, and soon the smoke was pouring into our eyes and filtering up amongst the hams in the roof. We were drinking a splendid café au lait when an old woman peered in at the door. "Very beautiful Jabooka," she said. We agreed heartily. "Not dear either," she said.
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