82 BIRD-HUNTING 



in the place. 1 One of them is just opposite my 

 window, and I can hear the muezzin call the faithful 

 to prayers as I lie in bed in the morning. The 

 people who flock into the town on bazaar days are 

 chiefly Albanians, who appear to occupy and culti- 

 vate much of the land around. It speaks volumes 

 for the Montenegrin rule that these people, naturally 

 so antagonistic, can mingle together as harmoniously 

 as they do on Montenegrin soil. It is also curious 

 that the Albanians appear to thrive, while poverty 

 drives the Montenegrins to emigrate to the United 

 States at the rate, I was told, of 500 a week, there 

 to work in the mines of California. 



I have seen many parties of these poor people 

 embarking, with their small bundles of possessions, 

 bravely enough, with songs and fusillades of revolver 

 shots. I have also been behind the scenes, as it 

 were, and have accompanied them in their march 

 over the hills, through the olive-woods, which they 

 were seeing for the last time. I have watched 

 these stalwart men singing with the tears running 

 down their faces, and sobbing like children when 

 the moment of parting arrived. On these occasions 

 half the population of the town turns out to give 

 them a good send-off, and the consumption of 

 cartridges for their revolver salutes is considerable. 



1 Dulcigno was originally a Turkish port, and was only captured 

 by Montenegro about thirty years ago. 



