good, and will surely pardon you!’ But the leader had no thought of allowing himself and his men to fall alive into the hands of the Turks; his knowledge of how they respect promises to ‘infidels’ precluded any idea of his accepting the tempting offer. It was now after one o’clock. If the band could hold out until nightfall, there was a slight chance for some of them to cut their way through the Turkish lines with bombs; but the Turks would certainly make any sacrifice to storm the position before dark--the great Sarafoff was cordoned and would not have another opportunity to escape. The day was inclement, and thick, black clouds hung over many of the mountains. Perhaps the Turks longed for one of these to break from its hold on another peak, and float over to this, for they abated their fire when a dense, all-enveloping wreath followed this course. Sarafoff judged that they would storm his shelter in the protecting mist, and laid his plans accordingly. At the moment that the blackness was complete, the insurgents began again to cast their dynamite, and kept a zone about their little fortress hot with exploding shells. The Turks waited until this cannonade should conclude; but while they waited, all the insurgents dispersed except Sarafoff and fifteen of his men, and, each acting for himself, dashed for the open space left by the Turks with such precision. A pistol was loaded for each of the wounded men who could not escape, in order that they might blow out their own brains; and then, lighting the last half-dozen bombs with long fuses, to hold off the Turks yet a few minutes, Sarafoff gave to the men who had stayed with him the order to fix bayonets and follow those who had gone before. When night fell, less than fifty men of the original ninety gathered together in the dense forest on the far side of the mountain appointed as the place of meeting. They were blackened from smoke, and down some of the drawn and haggard faces streaks of blood were trickling. Their throats were parched, and they were famished with hunger, and a few of them were off their heads with fatigue and excitement, and had to be gagged. They all lay as quiet as mice throughout the night, and the next day two of the most innocent-looking members of the band, stripped of their insurgent paraphernalia, and in the garb of ordinary peasants, went down into Bouff for food. When they got to the village, they found it had been visited with the vengeance of the Turks. On returning to garrison, the Turkish soldiers passed through Bouff and murdered a few old men and defenceless women whom they found there (the other inhabitants being still in the mountains). They fired many of the houses and pillaged the town, and there was very little of anything valuable left. There was much coarse, uncooked flour scattered about, and some Indian corn, and of these commodities the two insurgents collected as much as they could carry and returned to their comrades.