At five o'clock that afternoon we suddenly received orders through a
running messenger, who was braving the incessant machine-gun
fire, that our positions were about to be abandoned and that we
were to evacuate our trench under the cover of darkness, at eleven
o'clock. I cannot but confess that we all breathed more freely on the
receipt of that information, but unfortunately the purpose could not
be carried out. The Russians by this time evidently had realized our
comparatively defenseless condition and utter lack of ammunition,
for that same night we heard two shots ring out, being a signal from
our sentinels that they were surprised and that danger was near. I
hardly had time to draw my sword, to grasp my revolver with my left
hand and issue a command to my men to hold their bayonets in
readiness, when we heard a tramping of horses and saw dark
figures swooping down upon us. For once the Cossacks actually
carried out their attack, undoubtedly owing to their intimate
knowledge of our lack of ammunition. My next sensation was a
crushing pain in my shoulder, struck by the hoof of a horse, and a
sharp knife pain in my right thigh. I fired with my revolver at the
hazy figure above me, saw it topple over and then lost
consciousness.

This happened, to the best of my recollection, at about half past ten
at night. Upon coming to my senses I found my faithful orderly,
kneeling in the trench by my side. He fairly shouted with delight as I
opened my eyes. According to his story the Austrians, falling back
under the cavalry charge, had evacuated the trench without
noticing, in the darkness, that I was missing. But soon discovering
my absence he started back to the trench in search of me. It was a
perilous undertaking for him, for the Cossacks were still riding about,