India 2001 books

Two wretched, ragged children came on the road singing some
half-Eastern chant, and we hailed them. They refused the food with
dignity, and marched on offended.
We came to the Grand Canyon of Colorado--we beg its pardon--of
Montenegro, The Tara. Great cliffs towered high on either side, great
grey, rugged cliffs topped with pine and scrub oak. Down, down, down to
the river, an hour, and we crossed the bridge out of Novi Bazar into
Montenegro--thirty years free from the Turk. We halted at a little
coffee stall made of boughs. Jan wanted to get a photo, but the women
were so shy that Jo had to push them out into the open.
On the way up the other cliff our guide became communicative. He had
been in America, in the mining camps, and spoke fair American.
"In ole days, dese was de borders," he said; "'ere de Serb, 'n dere de
Turk. Natchurally dey 'ate each oder. Dey waz two fellers 'ad fair cold
feet, one 'ere, one over dere, Turk 'n our chapy. Every day dey come
down to de ribber 'n dey plug't de odder chap wid dere ole pistols what
filled at de nose.


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