The captain was in bed. Seeing people in bed had lost all its terrors in these days, for no one ever undressed. He came out on being awoke by his servant, but the answer was "Nema nishta." He had no animals to spare, but he was very kind, and gave us a note to an artillery officer stationed three miles away. This time I spared Vooitch, and took our old "narednik" (sergeant) from Kragujevatz, who had joined us at Scutari. Colonel Guentchitch had wished, and had even ordered, him to accompany me from Kragujevatz, and I should have been thankful to have him, but he was so serviceable to the Kragujevatz Hospital, that I would not obey orders. On our worn and weary ponies, we crawled to the camp, and to our joy and gratitude it was "Dobro! dobro!" and we were given half a dozen ponies and half a dozen men to lead them, and with these, added to our own, we had enough. The men would bring the ponies back when we had done with them. [Illustration: LEADING THE COLUMN ON FOOT OVER THE MOUNTAINS Other columns following down the slope (to the left) behind us] [Illustration: LEAVING OUR NIGHT'S BIVOUAC (between Petch and Roshai)] We eventually started with thirteen ponies at 11 o'clock. Another of our horses fell within the next quarter of an hour, and had to be left at the artillery camp as we passed. We trekked hard till 4 p.m., then halted for half an hour, to make tea in a field near Barbalucci. The main road after that was impassable, with three feet of mud, and we were warned to take to the fields. Here great caution had to be exercised, as every now and then, stretches of bog had already engulfed other unwary wayfarers, and wreckage of carts and of fiacres was plentiful. We grew more and more thankful that our drivers had run away, and had saved us from having our stuff left in a bog. Also we were able to move much quicker without oxen, and time was, as instinct told me, of importance. I am glad I did not then know of how much importance it was. There were still mountains--mountains everywhere, but they had lost their sting. We no longer formed part of a suffering nation in flight from an invading enemy. Whatever sufferings we might meet, they would only be our own, and--we were on our way home. Home! We had not allowed ourselves to think of home till now; and now--no, it was still too early for the luxury of personal hopes.