That ended
his school days. He introduced us to an officer, whose business it was
to search for spies, a restless man who was always feeling under the
seats with his feet. Perhaps it was only cramp! The four Englishmen,
cheered at the thought that their long journey was nearing its end,
burst into song. The Serbs stood round listening to the melodies that
were so different to their own plaintive wailings, and presently asked
us to translate. We don't know if the subtleties of "Didn't want to do
it," or "The little grey home in the west," were very clear in the
translations, as they seemed puzzled.
Arrived at Vrntze, we found no carriages to meet us. The station-master
at Krusevatz had promised to telephone, but as usual had not done it. We
had to break the news to our Englishmen, who, their songs over, had
naturally fallen into tired depression, and had to tell them that a
three-kilometre walk was before us, and one man had better stay to look
after the baggage. Carriages were telephoned for, but they would be long
in coming.
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