The Montenegrins had taken the outwork, working up on hand and knee, crawling and firing from such cover as they could find until the Turks broke and escaped to the summit, and the Montenegrins lay close behind the wall they had taken.

When the trumpet sounded they threw their rifles down, drew their sword bayonets, and made a rush with the naked steel.

The fire broke out from the redoubt above, said our little German, with a roar that was absolutely appalling; it was as if the sky were woven with whistling missiles, and but for very shame, seeing the rage of combat in the men around him, he would have lain down in overmastering panic.

But no man halted, and the race between the two battalions was won by the Montenegrins only by a minute, and they poured over the wall of the redoubts, the Turks who could escape going out at the rear as their assailants poured in.

When it comes to this final charge, the Montenegrin always leaves his gun behind and trusts only to the cold steel.
The next morning a flag of truce came to ask for terms, and the town surrendered on condition of the garrison going out with their arms and their private property.