at once through the
fields on his motor cycle, but he could not go fast now. The ground had
been cut deep by artillery and cavalry and torn by shells and he had to
pick his way, while the shower of steel, sent by men who were firing by
mathematics, swept over and about him.

Shivers seized him more than once, as shrapnel and pieces of shell flew
by. Now and then he covered his eyes with one hand to shut out the
horror of dead and torn men lying on either side of his path, but in
spite of the shells, in spite of the deadly nausea that assailed him at
times, he went on. The rush of air from a shell threw him once from his
motor cycle, but as he fell on soft clodded earth he was not hurt, and,
springing quickly back on his wheel, he reached the battery.

The order was welcome to the commander of the guns, who was anxious to
go closer, and, limbering up, he advanced as rapidly as weapons of such
great weight could be dragged across the fields. John followed, that he
might report the result. They were now facing toward the east and the
whole horizon there was a blaze of fire. The shells were coming thicker
and thicker, and the air was filled with the screaming of the shrapnel.

The commander of the battery, a short, powerful Frenchman, was as cool
as ice, and John drew coolness from him. One can get used to almost
anything, and his nervous tremors were passing. Despite the terrible
fire of the German artillery the French army was still advancing. Many
thousands had fallen already before the shells and shrapnel of the
invisible foe, but there had been no check.

The cannon crossed a brook, and, unlimbering, again opened a tremendous
fire. To one side and on a hill here, a man whom the commander watched
closely was signaling. John knew that he was directing the aim of the
battery and the French, like the Germans, were killing by mathematics.

He rode his cycle to the crest of a little elevation behind the battery
and with his newfound coolness began to use his glasses again. Despite
the thin, whitish smoke, he saw men on the horizon, mere manikins moving
back and forth, apparently without meaning, but men nevertheless. He
caught, too, the outline of giant tubes, the huge guns that were sending
the ceaseless rain of death upon the French.

He also saw signs of hurry and confusion among those manikins, and he
knew that the French shells were striking them. He rode down to the
commander and told him. The swart Frenchman grin