A couple of miles further on we came to a small stream where Goza announced we would halt to eat.
So we ate of cold toasted meat which one of the men produced from a basket he carried, unpalatable food but better than nothing.
Just as we had finished I looked up and saw the soldier to whom my note had been given.

He was leading my mare that had been saddled.

On it were my large saddle-bags packed with my belongings, also my thick overcoat, mackintosh, waterbottle, and other articles down to a bag of tobacco, a spare pipe and a box of wax matches.

Moreover, the man carried my double-barrelled Express rifle and a shot-gun that could be used for ball, together with two bags of cartridges.

Practically nothing belonging to me had been forgotten.
I asked him who had collected the things.