THROUGH WILD EUROPE 277 



customary to carry arms. The inspector, it is true, 

 carried a revolver, but he had to enforce orders on 

 an unruly body of men. On my next visit to these 

 parts I was told he had been savagely attacked by 

 a man, whose licence he had demanded for carrying 

 a gun, on one of the remote islets in the Balta, and 

 so beaten over the head with a gun-barrel that he 

 had been left for dead. 



At one thing I was agreeably surprised. On 

 halting for the night we always managed to en- 

 gage a bed at the house of some fisherman. And 

 I must say that the sight of these rough, unkempt, 

 bearded fishermen drinking vodka in their grog- 

 shops was not calculated to lead to great expectation 

 for much comfort in their homes. But I always 

 found a very clean, comfortable bed, a clean room 

 tastefully decorated with home-made embroideries, 

 and as a rule no mosquitoes and no fleas — a dwelling- 

 place immensely superior to a Spanish choza or an 

 Albanian hut, both in comfort and cleanliness. In 

 one corner there was invariably a sacred picture in 

 a little niche, with a small oil-lamp perpetually 

 burning before it. 



But these rooms were only engaged for the night, 

 our custom being to be away soon after daybreak ; 

 and when, as was the case here, we were delayed 

 by the weather, heavy rain and contrary wind, we 

 had no resting-place for the sole of our foot, except 



