122 BIRD-HUNTING 



the woods, which covered the hills thickly, now 

 stooping under an overhanging branch, now sway- 

 ing on one side to avoid a tree-trunk or rocky pro- 

 jection. Towards evening we arrived at a miserable 

 village, and the guides rode on to the house of the 

 chief inhabitant, a small farmer, to arrange that he 

 should give us quarters for the night. In all proba- 

 bility he was simply ordered to do so in the name 

 of the Bey, their master. 



Whether this was the case or not we were received 

 very hospitably, and shown up a rickety ladder to 

 the living-room, which was over the cowshed and 

 stable, as usual. All night we could hear the beasts 

 moving about, and we could also smell them ! The 

 courtyard round the house was used as a cattle-yard, 

 and was literally knee-deep in liquid mud and filth. 

 In one corner of the room was a pile of golden 

 maize, while in the middle burnt the usual log-fire, 

 filling the room full of smoke. Cushions and rugs 

 were spread for the Baron and myself, while our 

 men were made comfortable in another room, and 

 coffee and cigarettes were quickly brought to us. 



There seemed to be an unusual number of stal- 

 wart Albanians about the house, every man armed 

 with his Martini, and a double row of shining brass 

 cartridges round his waist. At dinner, which we 

 ate squatting on the floor at a table four inches high, 

 we three were waited on by six Albanians, whose 



