k red cloak with a peaked hood;
and West having lost his hat had donned a Serbian soldier's cap, which
he was taking away as a curiosity. His arm was giving him pain. It was
very red and inflamed and no one knew what was the matter with it.

We travelled for an hour or so, and then everything on the road came to
a standstill--something was in the way. Half an hour passed, nothing was
done. Several miles of drivers were talking, gesticulating, and
blaspheming; so Jan took on the job of traffic superintendent, and after
a time, with a little backing here and twisting there, the problem was
solved and we moved on. Still no hay stations could be found, and we
were also hungry, having had no breakfast. We passed a mound covered
with thousands of Austrian prisoners waking up in the twilight. Another
hill was black with boys. Still no station. Then we saw some haystacks
being taken to pieces by various drivers. Our ten coachmen ran to the
stacks and came back with loads of hay which they packed in the carts.
In five minutes the haystacks existed no more.

"Better not leave that good hay for the Swobs," said the corporal, as he
whipped up the horses. We passed a dressing-station. It was a sort of
laager of ox carts over which flew the red cross. Wounded soldiers were
sitting and lying on the grass everywhere, while doctors and nurses were
hurrying to and fro with bandages and lint.

Water was difficult to find. At last we stopped at the top of a hill in
a furious wind. The water which we got from a stream looked filthy, but
we boiled it thoroughly in a biscuit tin, and Angelo again presided over
a magnificent curry filled with bully beef, while we hit our toes on the
ground to keep warm. A wounded soldier was brought up by a friend. He
had not been attended to for days, and we did the best we could for him.

A carriage passed laden with two tiny boxes--a policeman on either side.
Although the boxes were small the carriage seemed so heavy that the
horses could scarcely drag it, and two well-dressed men who were riding
on the carriage often had to get out and push. We wondered if the boxes
were filled with gold. The dreary processions of starving boys shuffled
up again; some were crying, some helping others along, one had an
English jam tin hanging round his neck. Sir Ralph Paget appeared in a
motor car, loaded with packages and three other people. We stopped him,
and he told Jan that at Novi Bazar he could get no information o