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

The captain,
however, was very good, and gave us a policeman to find lodgings for us.
By this time it was dark. He led us into a pitch black lane where the
mud came over our boots, then we clambered up a loose earth cliff and
stood looking into a room whose only light was from a small fire, as
usual on the floor. Over the fire was a large pot, and a meagre-faced
woman was stirring the brew. Behind her a small baby in a red and white
striped blanket was pushed up to its armpits through a hole on four
legs, where it hung. In a dark corner a small boy was worrying a black
cat.
"Can you give these English a bed?" demanded the policeman.
The woman shook her head sadly. "Mozhe," she said, which means "It is
possible."
After supper, Bovril and cheese omelette, we went out to seek the cafe.
We trudged back through the mud and stumbled into a house full of
lattice work, like a Chinese store. Startled we tried another. This time
we came into a stable, but there was a ladder leading upwards, and at
the top a lighted room, so we decided to explore.


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