TOWN OF ANTIVARI—FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF TURKEY—ORIENTAL PASSENGERS—VALUE OF A KNOWLEDGE OF ARABIC OR TURKISH—A MAHOMETAN MERCHANT AND HIS FAMILY—TURKISH TROOPS IN ALBANIA—TOWN AND FORTRESS OF CASTEL DURAZZO—RETURN TO TRIESTE—FAREWELL TO THE READER.

AFTER leaving Budua we kept close in shore, enjoying the wild rugged scenery of the Dalmatian coast till we reached Antivari, where we first came into immediate contact with the Turks on their own Ottoman soil. The first impression, I must confess, was certainly not a favourable one.

Should any one of my readers, with a bias in favour of Ottomans and Ottoman rule, ever determine on visiting Turkey, let him not receive his first impression of that empire by a visit to Antivari. A few wretched hovels, a miserable white-washed house, with a small and dirty red flag over it; a group of miserably-dressed, vile-countenanced, ragamuffin-looking soldiers, in baggy blue trousers and crimson fezzes, constituted all the features of the place. The town of Antivari itself, I heard, was a few miles inland, but if one may judge of the town from its villainous port, it must be wretched in the extreme.

The steamer remained here a couple of hours to land goods and take in passengers, but as the heat was excessive and the prospect of the country most unpromising, I made no attempt to land. I did not however lack entertainment, and while I lounged over the bulwarks on the shady side of the steamer, I amused myself pitching half-francs into the water, which was of very considerable depth and of the clearest and limpidest blue, to half a score or so of lads and small boys who were swimming, and diving, and treading the water in the most surprising manner; they seemed just as much at home in the sea as on the land, and fetched up the coins from the bottom as easily as I could have picked them up from the deck.

When tired of looking at the swimmers, I turned to watch the new arrivals, of which we had a considerable number, all Orientals, and almost all deck passengers. The first which caught my eye, coming up the side of the steamer, was a wretched-looking, squalid creature, dressed in rags, but most picturesque withal. He was small, slight, and extremely dark, just short of black, but with distinctly Caucasian features, not a negroid by any means. He had a small bundle over his shoulders, and in his right hand he carried a short lance, with a very bright steel head, ornamented with a few lines of Damascene work in gold. His head was covered with a somewhat conical-shaped cap, encircled with a scanty and very ragged green turban, while at his side he carried a moderate sized bottle-gourd. He was a very singular looking being, and all I could make out through the captain was that he thought he was a dervish returning home from visiting some sacred shrine in Mahomedan Europe. As to his home, he suspected from his costume it might be in Kurdistan, but it was very much guess work, as the Captain spoke neither Arabic nor Turkish.

Another interesting group consisted of three gaily dressed Orientals, in bag trousers tight at the knees, turban, and highly embroidered jackets. They made their way to the quarter-deck abaft the paddle box, and were about being summarily ejected by the steward in consequence of being deck passengers, when I interposed, and got him to let them stay for a while. They perfectly well understood that it was owing to my interference they were allowed to remain, and so we knocked up a sort of acquaintance, and carried on a lame, very lame conversation by the help of the youngest, who could speak a very few words of Italian. I could not make out any thing about them, whence they came, or whither they were going, but from their features I could easily see they were Asiatics, Arabs most probably, and the youngest, who was also the lightest in colour, had three scars on each cheek, not unlike in shape to our broad arrow.

How I longed for a knowledge of Arabic, how I envied Captain Burton! If he had been there we should at once have known all about them, and the dervish and everyone else, including a tall, handsome Soudani slave, who kept grinning and showing his teeth from ear to ear, while I was carrying on my lame conversation with the Arabs.

Up to this point, Italian and German had enabled me to get on famously; but now that I was getting among Asiatics, although I was still in Europe, I felt my utter helplessness, and the absolute necessity for a knowledge of the language of the Koran, for those who wish to visit the East with pleasure and profit.

The whole deck forward was encumbered with passengers. In one corner seated on a pile of luggage, but well bolstered up by rolls of Persian carpets, was a most truculent-looking Oriental, attended by an intelligent-looking young negro, with a most astonishing Caucasian type of countenance. He wore nothing but a white calico sort of shirt with loose sleeves, and a string of red beads round his neck. He had none of the characteristics of the negro except the colour; had I known anything of Arabic, I could most probably have learnt something about his origin.

In another corner of the deck a Mahomedan merchant (as I was informed he was) had contrived to screen off a place for himself and his family, one of whom, about three years old, was sprawling stark naked on a rug in the broiling sun, while a closely veiled female, his mother I suppose, was chasing small deer all over his person, which was closely spotted as if with measles—but they were only bites!

Quite at the prow of the vessel, somewhat apart, and separated from the rest, was a military officer, evidently of some considerable rank, if one could judge by the orders and stars fastened to his breast, his handsome hilted sabre, and his patent leather boots. He was a heavy morose-looking man of about fifty, with close cropped black beard, blue Turkish uniform, and crimson fez. I was told he was a real pasha, and had with him a suite of two officers and half a dozen soldiers. He was only a deck passenger like the others; but whether he travelled so from poverty, from motives of economy, or from scorning to associate with the hated and envied Nazarenes, I cannot tell, though I strongly suspect that genuine impecuniosity was the real cause of it.

The Turkish troops I saw in this part of Albania were the most wretched specimens I ever witnessed, small, mean, dirty, disreputable-looking in the extreme, and their officers matched them to perfection. Having remarked on their appearance, I was told by the captain of the steamer not to form an opinion of the Ottoman army by such samples, as they always sent their worst regiments to Albania, and that these wretched troops, both officers and men, were always months in arrears of pay.

At last every one was on board, the last package was hoisted over the side, and again we were steaming down southwards. The afternoon was very enjoyable, the heat much less, and as the number of cabin passengers was small, we were able to have our supper on deck, which we enjoyed immensely.

After the meal was concluded, I again went forward among the natives, and soon made friends with many of the dusky passengers by means of a few signs; but our conversation was not lively—signs and gesticulations and dumb show were the principal means of conversation—of language we made little or no use. Had I known ever so little of Arabic we could have got on fairly enough—the pantomime of these Orientals being so wonderfully expressive. So I returned to the quarter-deck, where I had some coffee with the captain, and then feeling tired, I went down to my camerino, and was soon asleep.

On awaking the next morning I found we were at anchor opposite the town and fortress of Castel Durazzo, telling of its Venetian origin by its name. Here we remained a few hours, but the place did not look attractive, and as I did not feel quite "the thing," I did not go on shore, but remained on deck looking at the motley groups as they passed up and down. Again we had the usual interchange of passengers and goods, and after a few hours' delay we were just about steaming away when the return steamer from Corfu came alongside of us.

As chance would have it, it turned out to be the very boat which had brought me down to Cattaro; and no sooner did the captain spy me out on deck than he shouted that the quarantine had been declared at Corfu against all vessels coming from Trieste, and that if I went on I should be detained to perform fourteen days of quarantine in the Lazzaretto, instead of being allowed to continue my journey on to Constantinople. I asked him to come over, which he did at once, and having held a consultation with the other captain, who entirely agreed with him that I should most certainly be detained a fortnight at Corfu, and be compelled to perform my quarantine in the Lazzaretto, I determined on returning to Trieste. Fourteen days in a Lazzaretto anywhere would be a severe ordeal, but fourteen days of such an imprisonment during the dog-days at Corfu could not possibly have been faced; it would not only have been a severe trial of patience in every shape and form, but might have been conducive to serious illness.

There was no time to be lost, so my luggage was at once put into the captain's boat, and in a few minutes I again found myself on board the old steamer, where Giovanni, the steward, greeted me as if I had been an old friend.

At sunset we steamed away northward from Castel Durazzo. The captain was delighted to see me again, and Giovanni was most affable, doing his utmost to promote my happiness. But like Rachel of old I would not be comforted, all my plans were thoroughly upset; I could not bring myself to make fresh arrangements. I was turning my back on my beloved South and I was retracing my steps—both things I utterly detested. But non ci era rimedio, the quarantine and the Lazzaretto I could not face, so there was nothing else to do but resign oneself to the fates.

The next morning we came abreast of Budua, but I did not land as I did not feel well. I screwed up my courage, however, and attempted a little sketch of its castle and harbour, with its blue sea and its background of rocky mountains. After a little, and just as we were leaving the place, I felt worse, so I took some medicine and went to lie down. In two hours more I was in high fever, with a racking pain in my head and back, and I felt my mind almost wandering. We reached the Bocche that evening, but the beauties of the Fjord were lost to me—I lay in my cabin prostrated. Giovanni came instantly to see me, trying to comfort me by telling me I had only caught "la febbre," and that I should send for the doctor at Cattaro to get myself bled, and take quinine, when I should be all right. I think that the idea of Giovanni's bringing a doctor and having me bled, nolens volens, roused me up. I made myself some tea, and just as we reached Cattaro I felt much better—the fever had abated, and now, said I, is the time to take the quinine.

I had brought lots of it with me, so I measured out as much as I could pile upon a shilling, and bolted it. It certainly cut short the disease, as the fever did not set in again; but I was not well for many days after, and even when I arrived at Trieste I felt quite weak and out of sorts.

The next morning early we left Cattaro, and in the afternoon got to Gravosa. I felt somewhat better, and hearing that Consul Paton, who was then alive, and his family were in a villa just opposite to where the steamer was moored, I took a boat and spent two delightful hours with them, till the steam-whistle told me how quickly the time had flown. I reluctantly made my adieux, and soon was steaming out of the harbour.

It wanted scarcely an hour of sunset: the sun was low in the horizon—all the lights and shades were the more intensely marked, while the constantly changing tints, from brightest rose and golden yellow to the deepest violets and blues, created such a fairy scene that I would not venture to describe it.

I was in the fullest enjoyment of that sunset, gazing on where the sun was just dipping into the sea, sending a flood of golden light along the surface from himself to us, when the captain tapped me on the shoulder, saying, "Vada giÙ, you had la febbre last night; don't expose yourself to the air al tramonto;" so I took his advice, and went down below, notwithstanding the heat, and so ended the 23rd day of July!

The following day saw us at Lesina and at Curzola, and again at Lissa. The day after brought us abreast of Spalato, where again I enjoyed a couple of hours' ramble among those glorious ruins. Then we cruised through the countless islands near the mouth of the Quarnero, and finally reached Trieste, where, after having enjoyed two pleasant days with Captain Burton and his charming and talented lady, I turned my steps towards home.

Here I take my leave of the reader. If he shall be disappointed with my style and my many shortcomings I shall not be surprised; but I shall be disappointed indeed if, following a somewhat similar track to the one I have been tracing, only penetrating, if possible, more into Servia proper, and going across it from the Danube to the Adriatic, he shall not feel himself amply repaid by having taken my advice in visiting those countries which I have endeavoured to describe.

THE END.

London: Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street.