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

They themselves had escaped the
advancing Austrians by the skin of their teeth owing to good horses.
[Illustration: UNLOADING THE "BENEDETTO," SAN GIOVANNI DI MEDUA.]
The snow came down, driving along the valleys and whitening all the
hills; the cold grew more intense, and the desire for English beefsteaks
became an obsession: one talked of little else--or of Christmas. Food
was becoming scarce. The tinned mackerel was diminishing; some days we
had no bread. We walked once as far as Fabiano's wireless. The men were
living in a shed made of wattle, and the Borra whistled through the
cracks. There was a stove round which we sat while the men gave us tea;
but the warmth it induced in one's face only intensified the feeling of
cold on the back. Outside in the snow was a long-distance telescope, and
peering through one could see the conning tower of the Austrian
submarine, a faint hump on the sea by the southernmost point. As we
returned to the cold hotel we passed the Montenegrin batteries: cannon
too small to be of any use and the gunners of which were all so ill that
they could not handle them.


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