kless of death. The rifle firing had
ceased, because the pickets and skirmishers of both were driven in, and
the masses on the two sides were not yet near enough to each other for
that weapon.

But the cannon, hundreds and hundreds of them were pouring forth two
storms of death. The British position was raked through and through by
the fire of a thousand guns. Shrapnel seemed to rain from the clouds
scattering death and wounds everywhere. The air was filled with its
ferocious whine like that of a hurricane.

John, having no messages to carry, continued to watch the German
advance. He had no doubt that thousands had already fallen before the
hostile fire, but he could see no break in that living gray line. It
came steadily on, solid, tremendous and, again he felt that it was
impossible to stay it.

"The field telephone brings news that the French on our right miles away
are engaged also!" shouted Wharton.

"That doesn't concern us!" John shouted back. "Look what's coming, a
million Germans at least!"

The shrapnel whined terribly over his head and his horse fell, but he
sprang clear.

"My horse is killed!" he cried.

"So's mine," said Carstairs, as he picked himself from the grass.

Wharton's was hurt by the same deadly shower and he dismounted to
examine his wound, but the horse maddened by pain and fright broke loose
and ran toward the German lines. Before he had gone far a shell swept
him away in fragments.

John thought they were safer on foot, but his fear began to leave as the
madness of battle seized him. He had the curious but not uncommon
feeling in a soldier that the whole hostile army was firing at him
alone. His heart swelled with indignation, and his hair bristled with
anger. Snatching up the rifle of a fallen man he stood, ready to use it,
when the gray line came within fair range.

Carstairs and Wharton shouted something to him, but he could not hear
the words. He merely saw their lips moving. The crash had become so
tremendous that voices were inaudible. John was now quite certain that
if he had not put the lint in his ears he would have become deaf
forever. But both Wharton and Carstairs seized him and dragged him down.
Wharton, through his glasses, had noticed that new German batteries were
coming into action, and their fire would converge upon the place, where
they stood.

As they lay almost flat behind a little ridge the shrapnel began to
shriek over their heads with increased violence.