ry,
guarded by a small body of troops under Lieutenant-Colonel Tchobanoff.
Coming towards the front from Tchorlu, the fall of night and the
weariness of my horses had compelled me to halt at the village, and this
officer and Dr. Neytchef gave me a warm welcome to their little Mess.

There are six members, and for all, to sleep and to eat, one room. Three
are officers, three have no commissions. With this nation in arms that
is not an objection to a common table. Discipline is strict, but
officers and soldiers are men and brothers when out of the ranks. Social
position does not govern military position. I found sometimes the
University professor and the bank manager without commissions, the
peasant proprietor an officer. The whole nation had poured out its
manhood for the war, from farm, field, factory, shop, bank, university,
and consulting-room.

Here at Arjenli on the eve of the decisive battle, I think over early
incidents of the campaign. It is a curious fact that in all Bulgaria I
have met but one man who was young enough and well enough to fight and
who had not enlisted. He had become an American subject, I believe, and
so could not be compelled to serve. In America he had learned to be an
"International Socialist," and so he did not volunteer. I believe he was
unique. With half the population of London, Bulgaria had put 350,000
trained men under arms.

We eat our simple meal of goat's flesh stewed with rice. Then, smoking
cigarettes made of the tobacco of the district, Colonel Tchobanoff and I
talk over the position as well as my bad French will allow. He is serene
and cheerful. His chief care is to impress upon me the fact that in
making war the Bulgarians had not been influenced by dynastic
considerations nor by military ambition. It was a war dictated not by a
Court circle or a military clique, but by the irresistible wish of the
people.

Whilst we were talking the sound of a rifle shot came up from the
village. A junior officer was sent out to make inquiries. Soon he
returned with two soldiers leading between them a Turkish prisoner.

I learn the facts. The Turk had tried to rush past a sentry standing
guard over the ammunition park. The sentry had fired, had not hit the
man, but had grappled with him afterwards and taken him prisoner.

I nerved myself to see the Turk shot out of hand. The rules of war
warranted it. He had tried to rush a sentry on guard over an important
military station. But the Bulg