lock. I told him it wasn't always like this, and
we laughed over the curious life to which he had been so recently
introduced. We finally made our way to Ration Farm and as I had a long
ride before me, I determined to go back. I was very hungry, as I had
had nothing to eat since luncheon. I went into a cellar at Ration Farm
and there found one of the men reading by the light of a candle
supported on tins of bully-beef. I asked him for one of these and he
gladly gave it to me. As I started up the hill on the long (p. 107)
straight road with trees on either side, I tried to open the tin with
the key, but as usual it broke and left only a little crack through
which with my penknife I extracted strings of beef. I could not use my
flashlight, as the hill was in sight of the enemy, so I had to content
myself with what nourishment I was able to obtain. Half way up the
hill I noticed a tall figure standing by one of the trees. I thought
he might be a spy but I accosted him and found he was one of the
Strathcona Horse who had a working party in the trenches that night. I
told him my difficulty, and he got his knife and very kindly took off
the top of the tin. By this time a drizzling rain was falling and the
night was decidedly uncomfortable. I went over the hill and down to
the orchard, and made my way to the tree to which poor old Dandy had
been tied so many hours before. There, I found the tree just where I
had left it--it was of no use to me, as, like the barren fig tree, it
had no fruit upon it, but to my horror the horse, which was so
necessary, had disappeared. I scoured the orchard in vain looking for
my faithful friend, and then I went over to the Artillery officers'
house and told them my trouble. We all decided that it was too late to
search any longer, I was provided with a mackintosh, and determined to
make my way over to Petit Moncque Farm where the 3rd Infantry Brigade
Headquarters were. It was a long walk and the roads were sloppy. The
path I took led through a field of Indian corn. This, though not ripe
and not cooked, would remind me of Canada, so with my search-light I
hunted for two or three of the hardest ears, and then, fortified with
these, made my way over towards the farm.

From past experience, I knew that a sentry was stationed somewhere in
the road. The sudden challenge of a sentry in the dark always gave me
a fright, so I determined this time to be on the watch and keep from
getting a surpris