Helping Sick Russians--A Squalid Scene--Work of the Russian Doctors--Melikoff's Appreciation--Arrival of the Red Cross Staff--A Novel Candlestick--Great Explosion--The Erzeroum Fire Brigade--Preparations for our Departure--A Practical Joke on a Persian--A Pleasant Interlude--The Princess at Erzeroum--Mr. Zohrab's Library comes in Useful--Our Spanish Widow--Riding on a Pack-saddle--A Slow March--The Widow meets with Accidents--Restricted Sleeping Accommodation--We turn Two Corpses out of Bed--End of a Pack-horse--My Cats from Van--The Valley of Pear Trees--Trebizond at last. While the Turks and Armenians in Erzeroum were dying by hundreds from typhus, the Russian soldiers also suffered severely; and as I went round the town, I found many of them lying sick and untended, not from any want of care on the part of the Russian doctors, but simply because the soldiers stole away and hid themselves when they fell ill. Captain Pizareff would not believe it when I told him that his men were dying like sheep, and declared that it was impossible for such a thing to happen without the knowledge of the colonel of the regiment. In order to convince the aide-de-camp, I asked him to go with me and see the state of things with his own eyes. Next morning I started out early to visit a poor Armenian woman whose child had been accidentally scalded, and I took Captain Pizareff with me. The woman lived in a miserable quarter of the town, inhabited only by the poorest people; and evidences of distress and semi-starvation were present on every hand. I found my patient easily enough; and after dressing the injuries of the scalded child, I took Pizareff on a tour of inspection down the street. The snow was piled high round the walls of the first dilapidated, tumble-down shanty that we entered; and at first, as we went inside out of the strong glare of the sun on the snow, we could hardly see at all. A small latticed window near the roof admitted a few gleams of light; and as our eyes became accustomed to the semi-obscurity, we could make out three Russians lying on a heap of straw in a corner of the room. They were all down with typhus. One was lying on his back, with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. As we entered he looked at us, and seemed to recognize Pizareff. He made a feeble effort to rise from the straw and lift his hand in the military salute; but the strain was too much for him, and he fell back exhausted. The other two men were moaning and tossing from side to side, calling at intervals for water. An Armenian child about seven years old was playing with a dog in the snow which lay thickly in the yard at the back of the house. While I was looking at the men, the child came to the door, peered curiously in, and then returned unconcernedly to his game in the yard. The sight of sickness and death was not sufficiently novel to disturb the amusement of the moment.