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Prince Bagration, having reached the highest point of our right

flank, began riding downhill to where the roll of musketry was

heard but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen.

The nearer they got to the hollow the less they could see but the

more they felt the nearness of the actual battlefield. They began

to meet wounded men. One with a bleeding head and no cap was

being dragged along by two soldiers who supported him under the

arms. There was a gurgle in his throat and he was spitting blood.

A bullet had evidently hit him in the throat or mouth. Another

was walking sturdily by himself but without his musket, groaning

aloud and swinging his arm which had just been hurt, while blood

from it was streaming over his greatcoat as from a bottle. He had

that moment been wounded and his face showed fear rather than

suffering. Crossing a road they descended a steep incline and saw

several men lying on the ground; they also met a crowd of

soldiers some of whom were unwounded.