Herbert Strang

“ He was listening sympathetically to Giulika’s recital of the misdeeds of the Turks, when the party encountered a more serious obstacle than any they had yet met. A mountain stream, running towards the Drin, had spread out into a wide swamp, dotted with boulders. So soft and oozy was the soil, that the leaders of the march sank deep into it. There was not water enough to float the car, and its weight would clearly prevent its being run across. Nor was there any possibility of carrying it as the sailors had carried it from the quay to the launch at Dover: the men could not get a firm footing. ”

“ A boulder crashed upon the vessel, tearing a long gash on the exterior of the hull, but above the water line. A smaller rock hit the wind-screen, rebounded, struck George’s arm, and rebounding again, found a final goal on the head of Giorgio, who crouched face downwards on the bottom, pattering his prayers. George was in terror lest a large boulder, more accurately or luckily aimed, should plunge into the interior of the boat, for such a missile might break a hole through the bottom, or hopelessly damage the engine if it struck fair. ”

“ The Margherita was not in sight, and George steered eastward to meet her. They were nearly a mile from the shore when they saw the motor-car emerge from the village. It halted for a few minutes; no doubt Slavianski was scanning the sea. Then it turned about, and disappeared from view.
“He’s running back to Brindisi,” said George. “Will he pursue us in one of those Austrian boats, I wonder?”
“It’s a lost game, I think,” replied Maurice. “It will be dark before he can overtake us, and even his perseverance won’t be able to discover us then. But I wish the Margherita were in sight.” ”

“ This Maurice accepted, and while eating it asked how far it was to Prizren. Hearing that it was only four hours’ march, he decided to push on at once; and, thanking their reluctant entertainer, the travellers set off again. The road improved as they entered the dusty plain of Prizren. They overtook many people as they sped along—goat-herds, mule-drivers, horsemen, women carrying huge bundles of wood, and here and there an ox-sledge. George was amused to see them skip aside at the sound of the hooter, and many were the cries of consternation and affright as the humming car ran by. ”

“ Then, rounding a bend in the narrow track, they saw themselves faced with an insurmountable obstacle. To the right was a craggy precipice, to the left a steep and rugged hill-slope. A mass of earth, loosened, apparently, by rains, had slid down the slope across the path, blocking it to the height of several feet. Even the Albanians were aghast.
“It is God’s will,” said Giulika, with the fatalism of his race. “God sent rain that washed the earth down. The way is blocked for ever. No man will reach the Drin by this path again.”
“Is this the path by which the Austrians must come?” asked Maurice. ”

“ The ground rose gradually towards a barren range of hills, along the sides of which ran a track so narrow, that if it had rained there would have been the greatest risk of skidding on the slippery clay soil. George had to drive with infinite care, crawling along at a walking pace, and often applying the brakes. When they had crossed the ridge they saw a broad river winding picturesquely between high cliffs, and a village nestling among olive-grounds. ”

“ Maurice tried to follow the ensuing dialogue, and understood enough of it to make him desperately uneasy.
“You Giulika, I know you, Christian dog that you are,” cried the man without. “I demand that you give up the English spies, who are overrunning the country on a contrivance of Shaitan himself.”
“What, you Moslem pig, have you come from Elbasan on a fool’s errand? Shall I deliver up my guests? It is no custom of my house to betray those who seek my hospitality. Know that I take what guests I please, and keep them.”
“Hound, they are spies, infidels like yourself. ”

“ Will you let me have the pleasure and the honour of settling your feud?”
“It is good of you, excellency,” said Giulika. “I think myself that it is foolish that there should be blood between two such fine young men, and if Leka’s honour is cleaned they will be like brothers.”
“I am ready, excellency,” said Leka. “It is a pity I did not kill Giorgio when I shot at him, and then you would have kept your money.”
Maurice smiled as he handed over the necessary piastres. When the payment had been made, Leka and Giorgio kissed each other, and the former promised to buy a new rifle for his friend. ”

“ Giulika, looking grave at the destruction of his property, took the same view, and declared that such threats were vain; every Albanian must know that his honour was committed to the preservation of his guests, and he could never give them up. Such loyalty in a half-savage mountaineer stirred Maurice to admiration.
“The car!” cried George suddenly. “If a spark catches the petrol the whole place will be blown up.” ”

“ They ran back to the car, replaced the plug, and filled the tank from one of the tins. Then they started again; the accident had cost them more than five minutes. The shouts from the hill-tops sounded nearer. Giorgio now and again flung out his hand on one side or the other, to signify the exact direction from which the shout came. Like a batsman who has just been “let off” in the long field, George seemed to become reckless. He drove the car at a speed that made Giorgio cling in terror to the back of the seat, and even provoked a remonstrance from Maurice. ”

“ Yard by yard the path became steeper, and at times bent so abruptly that only with the greatest care, and by the united efforts of the whole party, could the gyro-car be dragged or pushed round. More than once Giulika muttered an imprecation on the people who invented machines. On foot, even on horseback, the narrow path presented little difficulty to a mountaineer, and the simple old man could not understand why two travellers, in peril of their lives from enemies, should enhance their danger by clinging to a thing of metal. ”

“ George had already declutched and changed into the second speed. The car gathered way, and, running within a wide rut, in less than a minute was out of sight.
“Won by a neck!” said George with a gay laugh.
“By a head, I should say,” remarked Maurice—“a head with brains in it. I had no idea you were so expert a mechanician. What was wrong with the engine?”
“The carburettor. The nozzle was foul, so that the petrol couldn’t get into the float-chamber fast enough. It didn’t take me long to put it right when I discovered what was wrong: that always takes time.” ”

“ As the gyro-boat swept into view they shouted and fired off their rifles, not, however, aiming downwards, but [Pg 202] shooting into the air, their usual mode of expressing pleasurable excitement.
“It is grandfather Giulika,” cried Giorgio, “and Marko, and Doda, and Zutni; yes, and there is Leka, my blood-foe. All are there. Praise to God, excellence! They have come over the hills to our help. While they stand there those dogs behind cannot pursue us further. We are saved!”
“But where are the Austrians?” asked Maurice. “They were on the left above the bridge as we passed.” ”

“ Down the steep street came hill-men driving pack-animals, women with empty pitchers on their heads, zaptiehs with rifles slung over their backs, long-bearded scribes, gipsy tinkers—but never a sign of the Pasha. Small boys gathered opposite the inn and watched the stranger as he smoked cigarette after cigarette, and rushed forward at intervals to pick up, not the discarded ends, but the matches he had thrown away. After a time Maurice got the hanji to despatch one of his sons to find out if the Pasha was coming ”

“ INTRODUCES THE GYRO-CAR
Among the passengers who alighted from the train at the terminus of Shepperton, the little village near the Thames, one evening in early summer, was a young man differing noticeably, but in a way not easy to define, from all the rest. He was tall, but so were many; dark, but most men are dark; bronzed, but the young men who spent idle hours in sculling or punting on the river were as suntanned as he. ”

“ His finger was on the trigger.
“My Government has a long arm, Monsieur le Comte,” said Maurice quietly in French. “Had you not better think it over?”
“Bah!” cried the Count, dropping the muzzle slightly, nevertheless. “Your ambassador at Constantinople has given warning that Englishmen travel in this country at their own risk.”
“True,” replied Maurice, as calmly as if he were discussing a matter quite impersonal; “at their own risk—of interference by the people of the country. You are not an Albanian, Monsieur.” ”

“ It was a little past twelve o’clock when George came in sight of a large town, which he guessed was Dijon. He nudged Maurice, exclaiming:
“Here we are! I’m desperately hungry, and now’s the time for you to air your French.”
“Surely we’re not at Dijon already! It’s—let me see”—he turned over the pages of his Guide—“it’s over three hundred kilometres from Paris—a hundred and eighty miles. You must have been tearing along at a terrific pace.”
“Not fast enough to wake you. You don’t snore very loud, old man; but I haven’t had to use my hooter.” ”

“ The car’s easy motion surprised and delighted the Albanians, who ran along beside it with cries of admiration. Giulika himself, old as he was, kept as good a pace as the younger men, and when Maurice invited him to enter the car he declined.
“Never in my life have I been carried by anything but a horse,” he said, “and I am too old to try new things. Nothing but a horse shall carry me until I am borne to my grave.”
After a time the path again became steep and rough, and the pace had to be moderated. ”

“ Courtenay-Greene was a dowager of severe and wintry aspect, who wore pince-nez and had the habit of “looking down her nose,” as George irreverently put it. During dinner she and Maurice exchanged notes about common acquaintances, ignoring George until a chance mention of the gyro-car drew upon him a battery of satire, reproof, and condemnation.
“I shudder for our reputation,” said the lady. “We are already, I am sure, the talk of the neighbourhood.”
“Judging by what I have seen,” said Maurice, “we shall be lucky if we are not more than the talk. It will be manslaughter, at the least.” ”

“ The road began to be populous with fishers, donkey-drivers, girls going to the lace factories, barefooted young labourers on their way to the vineyards and olive-yards. They stopped to gaze at the gyro-car; a youth would raise a “Viva!” a girl wave a coloured kerchief—smiling, happy people in a smiling country.
Presently Pisa hove in sight, with her marble cathedral and leaning tower gleaming white in the sunlight. But the travellers could not wait for sightseeing ”

“ Maurice looked grave as the shots whistled round, but the danger of the party was not so great as might be supposed, even had the Albanians been better marksmen, because the fugitives were not grouped, but marched in a line. The car itself formed the best target. One or two bullets struck its framework, and George felt a little nervous lest one should find its billet in the petrol-tank. But no harm was done until a shot struck Giorgio in the arm, just below the spot where his former wound was bandaged. ”

“ There was no proper accommodation for a third person in the car, but Giorgio crouched in the narrow space between the seats and the gyroscopes. George started the engine, and the car began to gather away. The Albanian, stolid and iron-nerved as he was, gasped with dismay as the vehicle ran down the incline, bumping a little when, in spite of George’s careful steering, it crossed a hollow or a knob of rock. The path began to switchback. Then it was a series of rushes at the up grades and scrambles down the slopes on the other side, with the brakes hard on. ”

“ You see!”
“I see them running from the bridge back up the hill, but what of that?” asked Maurice.
“They will run to the rapids and cut us off there,” replied Giorgio. “There is a short path to them across the hills.”
“But they can’t run so fast as we are going.”
“True, excellence; but the river bends and twists so much that they will be there long before we shall, and we shall be in very great danger. No fisher of this country has ever dared to go down the rapids.” ”

“ To an ordinary motor-car it would have been quite impassable, and even a cyclist would have had to dismount frequently. But over such rough ground the gyro-car had an advantage. Its equilibrium was not easily disturbed; it could even run in a rut that would prove fatal to motor-car or bicycle. Yet it was only at a very modest pace that the travellers were able to pick their way along this apology for a highway. George’s patience was severely taxed when he found it impossible to maintain a higher average speed than about six miles an hour. ”

“ If I had not succeeded in reaching Sofia, there might have been war.”
“Well, we are ready,” said the old man with a smile. “We are a free people; we obey none unless we choose; but if there is a war, we flock like butterflies.”
Finding that he was on the wrong tack, Maurice tried again. After a long argument he persuaded Giulika that the King’s honour demanded that he should make some recognition of the services rendered to him by a stranger, and assured the old man that he durst not return to England with the money he had brought. ”