But the road to Medua was said to be possible for ox-carts; we, therefore, ordered four, with Albanian drivers, to be at the Consul's house at 7.30 a.m. to carry our food and bedding. The girls would not ride, and I thought they might accept a lift on the carts when tired.
But the carts did not arrive. Colonel Michaelovitch, who came from Headquarters to see us off, inquired, and found that they had been kidnapped on the way. He very kindly, with much difficulty, commandeered other carts, oxen and drivers. But, in the meantime, German aeroplanes arrived, and dropped their little souvenirs all over the town. Sir Charles and J. G. and I climbed up the tower to get a view of the Taubes, and of the country around; the Lake of Scutari and the fortified rocks beyond; and the mountains--God forgive them--over which we had come, and which we had overcome. And now one of these Taube bombs elected to fall in the barracks yard, in which our men were lodged, and some of our oxen were killed as they were starting to come to us; this so scared the Albanian drivers that it was difficult to re-collect them, and it was one o'clock when they finally arrived.
Albanian carts are two-wheeled (this looked of bad omen for the road conditions), and the wheels tower above the oxen, which are very small. The cart looks as if it was composed of wheels only, the rest of it consisting of a few planks loosely nailed together. Our own Serbian soldiers now remained in Scutari, with the exception of half a dozen, whom we took with us as pony leaders. They were to return to Scutari from Medua. The Albanian drivers seemed sulky, but we hoped it was only because we didn't understand their language. The road was fairly good, and near Scutari bazaar town, which was extremely picturesque, we crossed a swift river on a real iron bridge. The lake, with its setting of high mountains, was magnificent. It was such a relief to be no longer officially responsible for a column, that there was temptation to dally. But Sir Charles had told us to hurry; he was nervous about that last boat; so we jogged on till 7.30 p.m., when we reached the village of Bashat. For a wonder, the Albanian host of the first house in which we asked for shelter, welcomed us warmly to his room, which was, as usual, up a step-ladder. He sold us hay for the horses and the oxen, also he gave us the use of his wood fire. There was no fireplace; the fire was at one end of the room, on the dried mud floor. There was no chimney, but there was no smoke in the room, because the roof was full of holes, and the plank floor also had many gapes, so there were plenty of smoke exits, both above and below. I put my whip on the floor beside me, and it disappeared into the stable below.