Note 1 — Chapter V · : Banovitch Strahinya

So over fields and over mountains, straight to Kossovo, Banovitch rode forth with courage and gladness, for his dog was even dearer to him than his steed. At Kossovo he saw the plain crowded with tents and soldiers, and as he looked he felt something like dread within him; nevertheless, he called on the name of the true God and taking the precaution of disguising himself as a Turk, he rode over the plain. For several days he sought, but alas! in vain, the tent of Vlah-Ali. At last from the banks of Sitnitza, he beheld a spacious green tent upon the pole of which a golden apple shone; before the entrance stood an Arab steed stamping sharply with his forefeet upon the ground. Strahinya thought that this must surely be the tent of Vlah-Ali, and he fiercely spurred on his Dyogo. Reaching the tent in a moment, spear in hand, he boldly drew aside the silken curtain which veiled the entrance. To his disappointment he saw that the only occupant of the pavilion was an old dervish with a white beard reaching to his knees. The old man was drinking wine, a thing forbidden to him by the laws of his order, and he returned the greeting of Strahinya, who spoke good Turkish, with a profound salaam. Then, to Strahinya’s astonishment, the dervish said: “Hail! O Banovitch Strahinya, Lord of Little Banyska near Kossovo!” Banovitch was taken aback, but he tried to put a good face upon it and asked in apparent surprise: “Who is the man thou hast called Banovitch Strahinya?” The half-drunken dervish laughed aloud. “Thou canst not deceive me,” said he, “I would instantly recognize thee, yea, even wert thou on the top of the mountain Goletch.” Then he told Banovitch how that he had been a captive in his castle a few years previously, and had been treated most humanely, even receiving a daily measure of wine. Finally Banovitch had let him go to his estates to collect his ransom. Upon reaching his home he discovered that his estates had been appropriated by the Sultan, and his house and other possessions had been given to Pashas’ daughters as dowries. All was dreariness and desolation; he had lost his fortune—and, he added bitterly, consequently all his friends—so he was reduced to ride to Yedrenet1 to offer his services to the Sultan. The Vizir, he continued, told the Sultan that he looked as if he might quite likely be of use as a soldier, whereupon the Sultan had given him good clothes and better weapons and the Vizir added his name to the roll of warriors sworn to fight for the Sultan. “Now,” he concluded, “I do not possess so much as even a dinar, give me, I pray thee, time for my fortunes to improve.”