142 BIRD-HUNTING 



of us did. There were now no, roads which could 

 be recognized as such. Sometimes we splashed 

 between high banks through what was either a 

 submerged road or a river-bed, I am not quite 

 sure which ; and at other times we rode over boggy 

 ploughed fields covered with maize stubble, forcing 

 our way through hedges and over ditches. Several 

 times we had to turn back and make long detours 

 owing to deep water in front. One deep river 

 we crossed with some difficulty, my horse almost 

 swimming. One of the pack-horses was just behind 

 me — the same beast which had fallen before. Mid- 

 way I heard a cry, and, turning my head, saw the 

 pack-horse roll completely over and disappear under 

 water. My luggage and the rider were also com- 

 pletely submerged. I had to ride back and help to 

 cut loose the luggage, and repack it in mid-stream. 

 Everything was of course completely saturated. 



These are events of everyday occurrence when 

 travelling in Albania, with the chance of being held 

 up by brigands, or shot at by some fanatic, thrown 

 in. The conditions are about equal to those met 

 with in travelling in Central Africa, without the 

 chance of seeing any big game. 



However, everything comes to an end at last, 

 and we were not sorry when we reached the out- 

 skirts of Scutari, though our troubles were by no 

 means over. A long and very shaky wooden 



