As they could not find any trail either coming to or
going from the place, they came to the conclusion that they must have
come separately from different directions and gathered there, and that
they must have departed in something of the same mysterious way. However, this was, at any rate, some sort of a beginning, and the men
separated, having agreed amongst themselves to make a wide cast round the
place in the search for tracks. Whoever should find a trail was to
follow with at least one comrade, and when there was any definite news,
it was to be signalled to the Castle. I myself returned at once, and set the signallers to work to spread
amongst our own people such news as we had. When presently such discoveries as had been made were signalled with
flags to the Castle, it was found that the marauders had, in their
flight, followed a strangely zigzag course. It was evident that, in
trying to baffle pursuit, they had tried to avoid places which they
thought might be dangerous to them. This may have been simply a method
to disconcert pursuit. If so, it was, in a measure, excellent, for none
of those immediately following could possibly tell in what direction they
were heading. It was only when we worked the course on the great map in
the signaller's room (which was the old guard room of the Castle) that we
could get an inkling of the general direction of their flight. This gave
added trouble to the pursuit; for the men who followed, being ignorant of
their general intent, could not ever take chance to head them off, but
had to be ready to follow in any or every direction. In this manner the
pursuit was altogether a stern chase, and therefore bound to be a long
one. As at present we could not do anything till the intended route was more
marked, I left the signalling corps to the task of receiving and giving
information to the moving bands, so that, if occasion served, they might
head off the marauders. I myself took Rooke, as captain of the yacht,
and swept out of the creek. We ran up north to Dalairi, then down south
to Olesso, and came back to Vissarion. We saw nothing suspicious except,
far off to the extreme southward, one warship which flew no flag. Rooke,
however, who seemed to know ships by instinct, said she was a Turk; so on
our return we signalled along the whole shore to watch her. Rooke held
The Lady--which was the name I had given the armoured yacht--in readiness
to dart out in case anything suspicious was reported. He was not to
stand on any ceremony, but if necessary to attack. We did not intend to
lose a point in this desperate struggle which we had undertaken. We had
placed in different likely spots a couple of our own men to look after
the signalling. When I got back I found that the route of the fugitives, who had now
joined into one party, had been definitely ascertained. They had gone
south, but manifestly taking alarm from the advancing line of guards, had
headed up again to the north-east, where the country was broader and the
mountains wilder and less inhabited. Forthwith, leaving the signalling altogether in the hands of the fighting
priests, I took a small chosen band of the mountaineers of our own
district, and made, with all the speed we could, to cut across the track
of the fugitives a little ahead of them. The Archimandrite (Abbot) of
Spazac, who had just arrived, came with us. He is a splendid man--a real
fighter as well as a holy cleric, as good with his handjar as with his
Bible, and a runner to beat the band. The marauders were going at a
fearful pace, considering that they were all afoot; so we had to go fast
also! Amongst these mountains there is no other means of progressing. Our own men were so aflame with ardour that I could not but notice that
they, more than any of the others whom I had seen, had some special cause
for concern. When I mentioned it to the Archimandrite, who moved by my side, he
answered:

"All natural enough; they are not only fighting for their country, but
for their own!" I did not quite understand his answer, and so began to
ask him some questions, to the effect that I soon began to understand a
good deal more than he did. _Letter from Archbishop Stevan Palealogue_, _Head of the Eastern Church
of the Blue Mountains_, _to the Lady Janet MacKelpie_, _Vissarion_. _Written July_ 9, 1907. HONOURED LADY,

    As you wish for an understanding regarding the late lamentable
    occurrence in which so much danger was incurred to this our Land of
    the Blue Mountains, and one dear to us, I send these words by request
    of the Gospodar Rupert, beloved of our mountaineers. When the Voivode Peter Vissarion made his journey to the great nation
    to whom we looked in our hour of need, it was necessary that he
    should go in secret. The Turk was at our gates, and full of the
    malice of baffled greed. Already he had tried to arrange a marriage
    with the Voivodin, so that in time to come he, as her husband, might
    have established a claim to the inheritance of the land. Well he
    knew, as do all men, that the Blue Mountaineers owe allegiance to
    none that they themselves do not appoint to rulership. This has been
    the history in the past. But now and again an individual has arisen
    or come to the front adapted personally for such government as this
    land requires. And so the Lady Teuta, Voivodin of the Blue
    Mountains, was put for her proper guarding in the charge of myself as
    Head of the Eastern Church in the Land of the Blue Mountains, steps
    being taken in such wise that no capture of her could be effected by
    unscrupulous enemies of this our Land. This task and guardianship
    was gladly held as an honour by all concerned. For the Voivodin
    Teuta of Vissarion must be taken as representing in her own person
    the glory of the old Serb race, inasmuch as being the only child of
    the Voivode Vissarion, last male of his princely race--the race which
    ever, during the ten centuries of our history, unflinchingly gave
    life and all they held for the protection, safety, and well-being of
    the Land of the Blue Mountains. Never during those centuries had any
    one of the race been known to fail in patriotism, or to draw back
    from any loss or hardship enjoined by high duty or stress of need. Moreover, this was the race of that first Voivode Vissarion, of whom,
    in legend, it was prophesied that he--once known as "The Sword of
    Freedom," a giant amongst men--would some day, when the nation had
    need of him, come forth from his water-tomb in the lost Lake of Reo,
    and lead once more the men of the Blue Mountains to lasting victory. This noble race, then, had come to be known as the last hope of the
    Land. So that when the Voivode was away on his country's service,
    his daughter should be closely guarded.