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Such was the story we heard one evening in Podgorica, and which we were here able to prove in part. When Marko heard that we were friends of his former master, his face lighted up with joy, and he kissed our hands. During our stay he was always with us, a devoted attendant and servant.

We made Podgorica our headquarters during our sojourn in the land of the Black Mountain mainly for its central position, but also for the opportunity afforded us there for studying Montenegrin life. It would be difficult to forget our first visit to the town.

"Though she had assumed the woman's garb for the Easter festival, she is to all intents and purposes a man, and hence the man's kiss of peace. She then asked me for a revolver which I had promised her some time ago." We turned in soon after, but not before we heard another story. Two cairns on the road to Plavnica, and but half an hour from Podgorica, had often been pointed out to us.

Achmet Uiko tells his story Sokol Baćo, ex-Albanian chief Shooting on the Lake of Scutari Our journey thither Our frustrated nap Arrival at the chapel The island of Vranjina The priest Fishing and fishermen Our visitors We return to Podgorica. One market day, walking through the streets of Podgorica, we overheard a strange conversation.

A large part of the town consists of mere shells of houses, the owners waiting for the means of completion. Some little distance from the town, across the Morača, is the Prince's palace of Kruševac, which he occasionally visits. It stands quite alone on a slight eminence. The view round Podgorica is one of the most fascinating features of the place.

The charred cliffs still bear silent witness to the efforts which the Turks made to burn out the little garrison by throwing bundles of flaming straw from above. Ostrog is about six hours' drive from Podgorica.

Then we took our leave and drove on to another block-house, and visited the commandant. After that we returned to Podgorica, and that afternoon, affectionate leave-takings over, we departed for Cetinje, en route for Cattaro. That drive, which should have taken about seven hours, was a memorable one, and a fitting conclusion to our visit.

It was the first time in the annals of Montenegro that strangers had been allowed to take photographs in a prison. At the appointed hour we approached the plain building, surrounded by no wall of any kind, which does duty as the prison. It is soon to be done away with, and all the prisoners will be transferred to the central prison at Podgorica.

On this challenge being reported to him Marko rode off on a half-tamed steed at midday into the heart of Podgorica, and reined up before the Pasha's house. In fear and trembling the Turks hastily closed their bazaars and houses as that fearful horseman galloped through their streets. In a loud voice Marko cried "I am here, Yussuf, to answer thy challenge. Wilt thou now come out and fight with me?"

Rijeka is a very busy little place, being the half-way village between the capital and Podgorica, and is still more important as the starting-point of the little steamer which plies twice weekly down the lake to Scutari. The river runs between lovely green hills rising straight from its banks, wooded and luxuriant, reminding one not a little of the Thames at Cookham.