The first halt was made at the hospital in a small Greek church at the village of Kadikoi. After a little tour of inspection Miss Nightingale and her party galloped up to the top of a high hill from which was visible a panorama of the camp, with its myriads of white tents dotted over the landscape. Now, indeed, she was in touch with that great bivouac of warfare which the wounded at the Barrack Hospital in Scutari had raved about in their fever wanderings. Upon the air came the roar of the cannon from Sebastopol, the sound of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the general din of military manœuvres. Around the martial plain rose the rugged heights of Balaclava with that valley of death sacred to the “noble six hundred”:-- Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Florence Nightingale sat long on her horse, gazing afar at the stirring scene and then turned sadly away. She knew that hundreds of poor fellows away in yonder trenches were doomed to swell the ranks of the dead and wounded ere the siege of Sebastopol was ended. Proceeding on her way to headquarters, Miss Nightingale called to inspect several of the small regimental hospitals. When at length the vicinity of Lord Raglan’s house was reached, Mr. Bracebridge, acting as advance guard, galloped forward, to announce the approach of the Lady-in-Chief, only to find, however, that the Commander-in-Chief, who had not received intimation of her coming, was away. Miss Nightingale having left a message of thanks to Lord Raglan for his visit of the previous day, now proceeded to the General Hospital before Sebastopol. This hospital contained some hundreds of sick and wounded, and great was the joy of the poor fellows at receiving a visit from the “good lady of Scutari,” as they called Miss Nightingale. When she went out past the huts to the cooking encampment, some of the men who had been patients at the Barrack Hospital recognised Miss Nightingale and gave her three hearty cheers, followed by three times three. She was much affected by such an unexpected demonstration, and being on horseback could only bow to the men by way of thanks. The shouts grew so vociferous that Miss Nightingale’s horse turned restive, and one of her friends was obliged to dismount and lead it by the bridle until the men’s enthusiasm had abated.