Ere our troops marched, General Estcourt sent into the Tartar village up the valley, into which the inhabitants were just returning, and having procured the attendance of the head men, proceeded to explain that the wounded Russians would be confided to their charge, and that they were to feed and maintain them, and when they were well they were to be let go their ways. An English surgeon was left behind with these 750 men--Dr. Thomson, of the 44th Regiment. He was told his mission would be his protection in case the Cossacks came, and that he was to hoist a flag of truce should the enemy appear in sight; and then, provided with rum, biscuit, and salt meat, he was left with his charge, attended by a single servant. One of the Russian officers addressed the wounded, and explained the position in which they were placed; they promised to obey Dr. Thomson's orders, to protect him as far as they could, and to acquaint any Russian force which might arrive with the peculiar circumstances under which he was among them. It was nearly eight o'clock ere the tents of head-quarters were struck, and the march began. We heard from the fleet that the enemy had not only left the Katcha, but that they had even retired across the Belbek. Our course was directed upon the former stream, almost in continuation of our march of the 20th, before the battle. As we moved along, the unfinished stone building, intended by the Russians for a telegraph station, came into view. The French had cut upon the entablature the simple inscription--_La Bataille d'Alma, 20 Septembre, 1854_. A similar building was visible further on towards Sebastopol; on reaching the top of one of the hills on our way, we could see the white lighthouse of Chersonesus at the end of the promontory which juts out into the sea. The country through which we marched was undulating and barren. Amidst steep hillocks covered with thistles, and separated from each other at times by small patches of steppe, or by more undulating and less hillocky ground, wound the road to Sebastopol--a mere beaten track, marked with cart-wheels, hoofs, and the nails of gun-carriage wheels. We advanced uninterruptedly at an average rate of two and a quarter miles an hour, halting occasionally to rest the troops, and allow the baggage-wagons to come up.