The Luck of Thirteen Part 35

The house was crammed full of arms: a little cannon threatened us on the stairway, swords, claymores, creeses, falchions, scimitars, glaives, dirks, and yatagans were nailed on all the walls, and there were muskets of every sort and size, heavy arquebuses from the north and gas-pipe guns and Arab hors.e.m.e.n firelocks with polished stocks like the handle of a corkscrew, all inlaid with gold, silver, and mother-of-pearl.

"Yes," said the consul, gazing reflectively, "he had a taste for weapons. And also for old cookery books."

The consul said that he thought that there was a boat at San Giovanni.

We cheered, for our luck seemed to be holding, and while he went off to the Italian consul we went to the governor to beg for transport. Neither consul nor governor was in, but we caught the Italian consul in the afternoon. He admitted that there was a boat, but warned us that it was no nosegay. He said that two Frenchmen who had thought of taking it had sent him back a telegram which had quite unnerved him.

"Et je n'ai jamais dit qu'elle etait une Transatlantique," he said, waving his arms.

He said that the archbishop had told him that a party of English had come into the town last night, "en haillons," but that he had not believed it possible. However, he had seen two of us in the street that morning, and had realized that it was true.

We said that any boat would do. He warned us of the danger of submarines.

At the consul's house we found the captain of the Miridites awaiting us.

He was a heavy-looking man with European clothes and a fez. After the ceremonious coffee he made a set speech, saying that he was paying his duties to the great British Empire, and that England was their only hope. The consul sat rather wis.h.i.+ng that he wouldn't, and that his servant had said that he was not at home. In common with most of the Christian rulers of Albania this gentleman seemed to have spent most of his time in exile.

Returning to the hotel Jan found that Jo had been purchasing, and he dragged her and Miss Brindley off to see the archbishop. The cathedral still carries the scars of the first bombardment. The archbishop, a large flat man, gave us each a hand as though he expected us to kiss it; he had a huge archiepispocal ring and a lot of imperiosity. He seemed more political than bishopy, though most of the Churchmen are; and there is the tale of one who said, "I would rather people went to drill than to church." There were a lot of wealthy looking Albanians sitting round and being respectable. The archbishop spoke no French nor German, only Italian. But Jan, with the help of a lot of old musical terms, and an imperfectly forgotten Spanish, managed to convey to him some intelligible compliments and sentences. We got out at last, and his eminence accompanied us to the top of the stairs and gave us the difficult problem of bowing backwards as we went down. This visit was necessary, as we might have had to get a "Besa" from him if we meant to go through to Durazzo.

The Serbian captain who had been on the Turkish gunboat met us in the street. He dragged us into a cafe and began to order beer by the half-dozen. He presented Jo with a small Turkish gold coin, which was valued at five s.h.i.+llings, as a bribe to allow him to join our party. As he already had permission it seemed superfluous.

Some of our party were still pretty seedy. Two had gone to a shop in search of castor oil. A very old and withered chemist, who spoke bad French, invited them in and asked for an account of their adventures, interrupting them with explosions of "Ah poves, poves, poves, poves."

"Ah, poves, poves, poves, poves," between every incident and also at the final request for the medicine. He showed them to the door and suddenly burst into unexpected English.

"Good naite, vairey good. I am your poppa."

In the hotel cafe we found two French aeroplanists, for four had arrived that day, sailing down over the city, to the great terror of the inhabitants. They seemed to be afflicted with the same idea as "Quel Pays."

"Ah, monsieur et dame," said they, "quel pays."

We asked them how things were.

"We have just come from Prizren. The Serbs are in a dreadful condition.

All the roads are covered with starving and dying people. The troops are eating dead horses and roots. There have been violent snow blizzards all over the mountains. We saw some of your people, too, doctors and nurses, they were going off to Ipek, 'dans une condition deplorable.' We came across the mountains; one of us is lost. Awful country, nowhere to land if anything went wrong and one of our machines has not arrived. G.o.d knows what has happened to them. The rest of us are all coming along on foot. We burnt fifty motor cars yesterday, monsieur, that made a blaze."

We asked them what sort of a time they had had in Serbia; but much of their answer is unpublishable.

"Each time we ascended every Serbian regiment fired at us. Once we came down over a battalion and the whole lot fired volleys, and when we landed and stood in front of our machine holding up our hands," they pantomimed, "they continued to fire at us. Then they came and took us prisoners, and were going to shoot us, although one of us had a military medal. A schoolmaster recognised us as French and rescued us. Our machine was broken; but we could get no transport and had to walk thirty kilometres back to our base without food.

"Another time we were chasing an Austrian, the Serbian batteries fired at us, monsieur, not at the enemy. Our officers had to send from the aerodrome to tell them to stop."

As we were going to bed the Montenegrin doctor came in.

"I am sent by the governor, monsieur," said he. "We do not consider it safe, this boat idea. Austrian submarines are everywhere, and the governor would feel it as a personal responsibility if you were drowned.

We will provide carriages to Alessio and thence arrange horses--only one day and a half on to Durazzo. Thence Essad Pasha will give you his motor boat and you can easily get to Valona."

Our men groaned at the thought of more journeying. They were all thoroughly fed up with the road, though personally we rather liked the idea. We had heard that Durazzo was very interesting, and would have liked to have met Essad, though we did not know just how his politics were trending. We decided to see the Italian consul once more.

Next day we hunted up the mayor, Mahram Beg, a Turk, for he also could give us a "Besa" if necessary. He was at last discovered, a little crumpled looking man in an office. We were not allowed to interview him in private, but a Montenegrin was there and all conversation had to pa.s.s by him like through an imperfect telephone. We gave the mayor a greeting from Colonel P----and little else. A very disappointing interview.

Jan went off to see the governor, who received him kindly. He said that he would arrange everything, but that it was difficult for him with the Italian consul, as the Powers did not recognize the Montenegrin occupation.

"You see, monsieur, here I am the law, and yet the law does not recognize me."

The Italian a.s.sured us that the Montenegrins were wrong, and that of course the boat would be escorted, and the danger reduced to its least possible amount. Just after we had left him we heard two things which made us jump.

A body of English officers had landed at Medua, and ninety English refugees from Serbia were _en route_ for Scutari. Could we not catch the transport and at the same time leave room for the others? Suma came in, and we consulted him. He was doubtful if the horses could be got at Alessio for us.

"You see, it is Albania and not Montenegro," he repeated.

We accordingly hunted up the doctor. He promised us horses for the morrow. The carriages had all gone to fetch the English officers. We asked him about Alessio, and he a.s.sured us that the telephone message had been received saying that they were waiting. We asked him several times until he grew angry and said--

"Do you doubt my honour, then?"

Before we went to bed the hotel proprietor came to us.

"Do you pay or the Government?" asked he; and seemed very relieved when we told him that we paid. The Montenegrins are neither loved nor trusted here.

The next morning the horses came, but very late. In the crowd watching our departure was an old Albanian without a moustache. That was a strange sight; we looked harder. It was a woman. She must have been one of those who had sworn eternal virginity, and so achieve all a man's privileges, even eating with them instead of getting the sc.r.a.ps left over from the meal. But the punishment of death awaited her if she failed her vow. Here was one, chuckling and grinning at some of us in our attempts to mount the weird saddles and weirder steeds which had been provided. The Serb captain had a carriage, and another carriage took all our baggage, which had now sadly dwindled owing to the continued depredations of the police. We straggled out of the town and through the crowded bazaar, for it was a Sat.u.r.day. Pa.s.sed the Venetian fort and the river from which stuck the funnel of the steamer so mysteriously sunk one night. We had heard that the Turkish gun flat which had transported us had burst her boilers, so now the Montenegrins had no steamers left.

The road was level and better than many we had come over, though once or twice the carriages were hopelessly mired, and had to be pushed across.

West's horse had ideas about side streets, and bolted down each as he came to it.

We met the Adriatic Commission. Mr. Lamb and Mr. George Paget, returning after so long an absence, were in the first carriage. We recognized Mr.

Paget at once, for though either of them might have liked old arms, only one would have collected old cookery books. The rest of the commission came along later. They stopped us. We expected questions about the Serbs; but no. They said--

"Can one buy underclothing in Scutari?"

Their baggage transport had been sunk by an Austrian submarine and they had only what they were wearing. We wished each other luck and went on.

There was no hope of arriving at Alessio that night, we had started too late. As evening was falling, we came to an Albanian inn and decided to put up.

There was a stable full of manure on the ground floor, through which one had to pa.s.s, and in the dark one was continually slipping into the midden or running one's head unexpectedly into horses' hindquarters. Up a rickety stair were two rooms. The floor rocked as we walked over it, and every moment we expected to go through and be precipitated into the manure below. The walls and floor were so loosely made that the wind blew through in all directions, and we called it the "castle in the air." We supped on chickens which we had brought from Scutari, and Whatmough and Elmer made a fire in the yard and got us cocoa. By this time we were all getting fed up with romantic surroundings, and wanted something more solid. The swarthy countenances about the bonfire, the queer costumes in the flickering fire, left us unmoved.

Sleep was impossible. The wind caught one in every corner, threatening lumbago. Stajitch fled and camped outside in one of the carriages, despite the rain.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALBANIAN MULE DRIVERS CAMPING.]

We started as early as possible--dawn. Whatmough, Cutting, Jo and Jan lost the road, but were eventually rescued by a policeman. About eleven one of the carriages broke down, and we had to repair it with tree and wire. Here the houses were again like fortresses, and everybody stared at us as though we came from the moon.

We reached the bank opposite Alessio--a small Turkish-looking village divided between a mud-bank and a hillside. We were about to turn over the bridge when news was brought that a motor-boat belonging to Essad was in San Giovanni harbour. We sent a policeman galloping on to stop it, and followed as fast as our meagre horses would allow. We also heard that a submarine had been in the port the day before and had tried to torpedo the s.h.i.+ps lying there--but had missed.

We cantered on, pressing along a stony road which was almost level with the salt marshes on either side. San Giovanni appeared after about an hour and a half. We rode down on to the beach. The motor-boat was getting up anchor. We yelled to the skipper, but he understood no Serb; so we translated through a Turk who was lounging about. The skipper said that he could not embark us there as it was Montenegrin territory, but that if we would go back to Alessio he would wait for us at the mouth of the river and take us down that very night. This seemed too good to be true and we hurried back, pa.s.sing an Austrian torpedo which had run up on the brown sand--a present from yesterday's raid. We turned the others and cantered ahead to get a boat; reached the bridge once more and crossed into Albania. Officials ran from all sides to stop us, but we ignored them, dismounted, and ran to the side of the river where boats were loading, overloading with pa.s.sengers. The boatmen refused to take us if we had no pa.s.ses from the governor.

We hunted the governor's office up the hillside, panting in our haste.

We burst in upon him. He was a dirty man in an unclean s.h.i.+rt and unkempt trousers.

"We want to go by the motor-boat," we explained.

"Who are you?" he asked, picking his teeth.

"We are the English about whom the governor of Scutari has telegraphed."