"I passed them without an inquiry, and was free. There had been the Neapolitan steamers cruising about every day all along this coast; no necessity was therefore felt for any further precaution. I rolled along fast enough with my two Calabrese horses, and passed some American officers, probably bound for Solento. At the very gates of the town the people had joined the insurrection, but there was a kind of neutral ground between the two, which ended in a village beyond Abate, the name of which I cannot recollect. If the Regii were careless, the insurgents were not, and at the entrance of the village one of their armed men asked me for permission to be my guide, a thing which exactly suited me. As we drove through the village the people rushed forward, and trying to kiss my hands, asked me for arms. They were all ready to join, but had no arms, which did not prevent their raising shouts for Italy, Victor Emanuel, and Garibaldi. We had to gallop off in order not to be stopped at every step. A drive of half an hour or more in a gentle descent, with a lovely valley beneath, and beautiful mountain scenery in front, brought me to the town of Misilmeri, a wretched little place, altogether wanting in character. In the little square held out on one side the committee, which forms a kind of provisional government, and on the other, up some wooden steps fixed outside, was enthroned the chief of the staff of Garibaldi's expedition in primitive simplicity. Colonel Sirtori was just giving a pass to two young American officers from the United State's steamship Iroquois, without which no one was allowed to enter the camp. As he had likewise given them an officer as guide, I joined them, and up we sauntered toward the heights leading to the Gebel Rosso and the pass the Mezzagna. We had soon left behind us the few remaining houses, and the ruins of the feudal castle to the left, the white limestone walls of which had something in them which reminded you of a skeleton. The ground all about is planted with olive-trees, vines, and different sorts of grain, which all grow luxuriantly in spite of the stony nature of the place. The general had pitched his camp on a tolerably extensive plateau just above the ruins, looking down on one side toward the plain and the range which ends at Cape Zaffarana, while on the other the peaks of the Gebel Rosso and the pass of Mezzagna were visible across a depression in the ground, looking very much like an extinct crater, and now partially filled with water, owing to the copious rains which had fallen during the last few days. It was one of those