The thing was then explained--a telegraphic
mistake. The captain had been ordered to fetch the strangers: but
strangers and mattresses are only one letter different, "n" or "m," this
letter had been transposed.
Luckily it was a beautiful moonlight night. The lake was wonderfully
romantic. A fat Serbian captain, who seemed to know Stajitch, made a
request. He said that he had been cut off from his division, which was
at Monastir, and that he was going to try and rejoin them. He ask us if
he could join our party, as it would come cheaper at the hotels and he
could get transport.
It was pretty cold on the lake, but we wrapped ourselves in our blankets
and said the view was lovely. Hunger was also gnawing within us, so we
were glad when at last the rumbling old engines halted and the steamer
gave three hoots. We waited anxiously, and at last a large rowboat came
sideways against the steamer. Four carriages were waiting in the bazaar.
A very polite Montenegrin doctor welcomed us at the hotel and we got
some much desired food.
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