curved away to the right, the other went back towards the
road.

A high-velocity shell screamed over and burst with a weird startling
flash of flame a hundred yards away. We followed the right-hand path,
and found that it bent to the left again. "This is getting puzzling," I
said to Wilde in a low voice. "I think we've come right so far," he
replied, "but I shall be glad when we're there."

We went on for another five minutes, the cart following. Then suddenly
the situation became really worrying. We were facing a deep impassable
trench. "Damn!" said Wilde angrily. "I was afraid this would happen."

"I don't think we can be more than a couple of hundred yards from where
we want to get," I answered. "It ought to be in that direction. Let's
give 'em a hail."

"They'll be down below--they won't hear us," said Wilde gloomily.

We stood up on the trench and called first the name of the Brigade and
then the name of the adjutant. Not a sound in reply. We shouted again,
the servants joining in. Another shell, bursting near enough to spray
the mess cart with small fragments! At last we heard a cry, and shouted
harder than ever. A figure came out of the gloom, and I recognised
Stenson, A Battery's round-faced second lieutenant. "Ah! now we're all
right," I called out cheerfully. "You see how we're tied up," I said,
turning to Stenson. "Our headquarters is close to your battery. Which
is the way to it?"

Stenson's face fell. "That's what I was hoping you would tell me," he
replied blankly. "I've lost myself."

There was a groan from Wilde.

"I left the battery about half an hour ago because some one was
shouting outside in the dark," went on Stenson. "I found a major
sitting in a shell-hole; he had lost his way trying to get back to the
railway. I managed to put him right--now I can't find the battery."

Another voice came from the far side of the trench, and we peered at
the newcomer. It was one of the Brigade orderlies, who also had lost
his way trying to find an infantry battalion headquarters. I examined
him on his sense of direction, but all I got from him was that if he
could reach the road and see the fifth telegraph pole from the wood, he
would know that Brigade Headquarters lay on a line due north.

More shells dropped near, and I began to think of Minnie, our patient
mess-cart mare. We must get her and the cart out of the way as soon as
possible. Close by stood a big Nissen hut, sunk half-way below ground.
Af