As a matter of fact, the immediate source of danger was not so much that Prokuplje would fall as that the road to Prishtina--the only route open to the retreating army--might be cut. Koshumlja was threatened, and if Koshumlja were to be taken we should all be caught like rats in a trap. We had come to Prokuplje from Nish, and all the time we were there--over a week--there was heavy fighting. Had the promised assistance come even then, at the eleventh hour, the tide might have been stemmed, the tables turned, for the Serbian successes were by no means to be despised. The famous Morava division of the Second Army had covered itself with glory in a tough battle at Mramor, Lescovatz had been retaken, and the Bulgarians had been driven out of Nish. The latter victory, however, proved useless, for the Germans immediately stepped in their place. And in spite of all this, Prokuplje must be evacuated. We liked Prokuplje--it is a pleasant little town very picturesquely situated. Moreover, we had comfortable quarters in what we were frequently told was the "finest room in the town." We were always being envied our luck in finding accommodation. Generally speaking, it was abominable beyond description, but the man who sleeps in the open air will envy him who has a roof over his head, and he who lies upon bare boards may be excused if he covets his friend's mattress. A friend of ours, coming to visit us at Scutari, was stopped by an acquaintance in the street and asked where he was going. He mentioned our name. "Oh, those are the lucky people who did so well for themselves at Plavnitza," was the grudging comment. Had we been asked we should not have agreed that we did well for ourselves at Plavnitza; indeed, the night we spent there was not far off being the worst in all our varied experience. II--STORY OF OUR NIGHT AT PLAVNITZA In the first place, we had no desire to stay there at all. We were waiting for a steamer to take us to Scutari, but a violent storm had arisen and the steamer failed to appear. Furthermore, we were not actually at Plavnitza, but upon the quay, the best part of half an hour's walk from the village along a sort of embankment that was swept by wind and rain and where the mud was so deep and sticky that it needed courage to face it. There were many people in the same plight as ourselves, but when it became a matter of certainty that the steamer was not going to show up they returned to the village and sought accommodation there for the night. No doubt a large number were disappointed. For ourselves, we stayed where we were--on the quay. We had found shelter of a kind, and we were not disposed to give it up to someone else on the remote chance that after ploughing our way through the mud again we might find something better at the village.