of the rain, in kindling a few fires.  It was close upon midnight when Ali Pacha arrived at head-quarters to report that the rear-guard had reached the bivouac, though nothing was known as to the losses incurred in men, horses, or provisions.  All that was certain was that one gun had been abandoned, the mule which carried it having rolled down a ravine.  This was never found, as the rebels, who passed the night within ten minutes’ walk of our bivouac, had carried it off before the arrival of the force sent back at daybreak to effect its recovery.  Our loss, however, proved to be insignificant—­two killed and six wounded, and a few ponies, &c., missing.  As might be supposed, the Slavish newspapers magnified the affair into a great and decisive victory for the rebels.  It is true that it reflected little credit on Osman Pacha; and it might have been fully as disastrous to the Turks as their worst enemies could have desired, had not the intense darkness of the night, the heavy rain, and the want of pluck in the Christians (a fault of which they cannot in general be accused), combined to get them out of the scrape without any serious loss.  The two whose deaths it was impossible to disallow, as their mangled bodies gave evidence thereof, were foully butchered by these long-suffering Christians.  It came about as follows:—­An officer and three soldiers had remained a little in rear of the column, being footsore with the march.  As the rebels came swiftly and quietly along, one of the soldiers, believing them to be a Turkish regiment, made some observation.  In a moment he and his comrade were seized, and, while receiving many assurances of safety, were stripped to the skin.  The officer and the third soldier instantly concealed themselves behind some of the projecting rocks, within ten yards of the spot, and thus became auditors of the ensuing tragedy.  No sooner had the rebels stripped their unfortunate captives, than they fell upon them en masse, literally making pin-cushions of their naked bodies.  Throughout that long and painful night did those two men lie hid in jeopardy of their lives, and glad must they have been when they saw the rebels retracing their blood-stained steps on the following morning, and more grateful still when the arrival of the Turkish force enabled them to feel assured of life and liberty.  The following afternoon we returned to Krustach, where we found a Montenegrin emissary, who was journeying homeward, having had an interview with Omer Pacha.  He was a finely built and handsome man, dressed in his national costume, with a gold-braided jacket, and decorated with a Russian medal and cross, for his services against Turkey at a time when Russia was at peace with that power.  He had been Superintendent of the Montenegrin workmen at Constantinople, and had consequently seen something of European manners, although unacquainted with any language save Slave and some Turkish.  He told me that he had left 400 followers in Piwa; but this I found did not exactly coincide with a statement he had made to Omer Pacha, and it subsequently transpired that his body guard amounted to about double that number.  This worthy asked me to accompany him to Cettigne, but circumstances conspired to prevent my accepting the invitation; and so we separated, he to Cettigne, we to Gasko on the following day.