I had asked permission and escort for two caravans from Alexandretta, but had learned later from them that they would unite and go together to Aintab, in company with the Rev. Dr. Fuller, of that city, who requires no introduction to the missionary or religious world. At this junction Mr. Gargiulo, of the legation, came to me in great haste (he having been sent for by the Sublime Porte) to know where our expeditions were. They had provided for two and could only get trace of one; where was the other? Please get definite information and let them know at once. I had served on too many battlefields not to understand what this meant. I knew our men were in danger somewhere and some one was trying to protect them, and sent back the fullest information that there was but one expedition out, and waited. Two days later came the news of the massacre at Killis by the Circassians. Killis lay directly in their track, unknown to them, and the Turkish troops had unexpectedly come up and taken them on. I can perhaps, at this distant date, give no more correct note of this, and the condition of things as found, than by an extract from a letter written by me at the time to our world's friend and mine, Frances Willard. We were at this moment securing the medical expedition for Marash and Zeitoun: Dear Frances Willard: ... May I also send a message by you to our people, to your people and my people; in the name of your God and my God, ask them not to be discouraged in the good work they have undertaken. My heart would grow faint and words fail, were I to attempt to tell them the woes and the needs of these Christian martyrs. But what need to tell? They already know what words can say--alone, bereft, forsaken, sick and heartbroken, without food, raiment or shelter, on the snow-piled mountain sides and along the smoking valleys they wander and linger and perish. What more should I say to our people, but to show them the picture of what they themselves have already done.