But dey neber hit nuttin. One day de Serb 'e got mad
and avade in de ribber, but 'e did'n 'it de Turk. Nex' day dey hot'
avade in 'arf way across. Dey miss again. De tird day dey avades in rite
ter de middle, 'n each shoots up de odder dead. Yessir, 'n dere bodies
float down ter 'ere."
He looked up and pointed.
"Dey was a gooman up dere," he said.
"A gooman?"
"Yes, a man wat 'ad a gooman all to 'isself."
"!!!!"
"Dey was an ole town all made o' stones," our guide explained, "where
dis man made 'is gooman. You know wat a gooman is?--kill all de fellers
what pass 'n do wat you likes."
We understood suddenly that "Government" was indicated.
"Dat's wat I say," he answered, "gooman--'e was killed by a Montenegrin
chap wat throwed 'im orf de cliffs, 'n a Turk gets all 'is land. Dat's
'ow dey was done dose days. Dere ain't much 'o de ole town lef now."
"We 'ad to chase de Turk outer 'ere," he went on; "lots 'o fighting, but
we 'ad luck. You see, dey 'ad two lines, 'an we got de first line before
'e was ready, 'n wiped 'im out, so de secon' line did'n know if it was
'im retreatin' or us advancin', and we was into 'em before dey 'ad made
up dere minds.
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