He had been so exhausted with the walk
that his policeman had carried him most of the way. Not pleased, we went
to inspect him. He was small, corpulent, and was sitting with clasped
woolly gloves, goloshed feet, and a diffident smile.
He explained to us that he was delicate, and as he was no walker it
would be necessary for him to ride one horse. So we packed our food,
sacks, blankets, mackintoshes and the card-house as best we could on the
remaining five horses.
No sooner had we left the village, and all signs of road or bridle path,
with a new policeman and two or three ragged Albanians, than one of the
horses broke loose and began to dance--first the tango, then the waltz.
The pack, which was but insecurely attached, stood the tango, but with
the waltz a bag of potatoes swung loose at the end of a rope, its
gyroscopic action swinging the horse quicker and quicker until it was
spinning on one toe. Then the girths broke, saddle and all came to the
ground. The brute looked round as if saying "That's that," and cantered
off, followed slowly by the professor on horseback.
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