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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"


Dusk was down when we passed Vrntze, and we reached the gorges of Ovchar
in the dark. We thundered through tunnels and out over hanging
precipices, the river beneath us a faint band of greyish light in the
blackness of the mountains.
Uzhitze in the morning at 4.30; it was cold and wet. Jan wanted to hurry
off to the hotel, but Jo sensibly refused, and we settled down till a
decent hour.
The hotel was a huge room with a smaller yard; on the one side of the
yard were the kitchens, etc., and on the other a string of bedrooms. We
then crossed the big square to the Nachanlik's (or mayor's) office.
Outside the mayor's office we found an old friend. He had been a patient
in our hospital, and gangrene, following typhus, had so poisoned his
legs that both were amputated. He had been discharged the day before,
and had travelled up from Vrntze, some eight hours, in an open truck.
The Serbian authorities had brought him from the station and had propped
him on a wooden bench outside the mayor's office, where he had remained
all night, and where we found him.


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