transported to the town. The road to Philippopolis was crowded with
wounded and refugees. Peasant families struggled along with all their
household goods piled upon a single cart. Ammunition wagons and droves
of cattle, rushing along against the tide of human beings, toward the
distant bivouacs, made the confusion hopeless. Night was fast coming on,
and in company with a Cossack, who was, like myself, seeking the
headquarters of General Gourko, I made my way through the tangle of men,
beasts, and wagons toward the town. It was one of those chill, wet days
of winter when there is little comfort away from a blazing fire, and
when good shelter for the night is an absolute necessity. The drizzle
had drenched my garments, and the snow-mud had soaked my boots. Sharp
gusts of piercing wind drove the cold mist along, and as the temperature
fell in the late afternoon the slush of the roads began to stiffen, and
the fog froze where it gathered. Every motion of the limbs seemed to
expose some unprotected part of the body to the cold and wet. No amount
of exercise that was possible with stiffened limbs and in wet garments
would warm the blood. Leading my horse, I splashed along, holding my
arms away from my body, and only moving my benumbed fingers to wipe the
chill drip from my face. It was weather to take the courage out of the
strongest man, and the sight of the soaked and shivering wounded, packed
in the jolting carts or limping through the mud, gave me, hardened as I
was, a painful contraction of the heart. The best I could do was to lift
upon my worn-out horse one brave young fellow who was hobbling along
with a bandaged leg. Followed by the Cossack, whose horse bore a similar
burden, I hurried along, hoping to get under cover before dark. At the
entrance to the town numerous camp-fires burned in the bivouacs of the
refugees, who were huddled together in the shelter of their wagons,
trying to warm themselves in the smoke of the wet fuel. I could see the
wounded, as they were jolted past in the heavy carts, look longingly at
the kettles of boiling maize which made the evening meal of the