rate, because it was not yet noon
when we arrived at the outskirts of Soissons. From the high ground on our
right flank, we could see cavalry and artillery in great numbers, but
whether ours or the enemy's, none of us knew--not even the officers. As we
arrived in the town we were greeted with artillery fire; then we knew who
it was that awaited us.

We got into a lumber yard and returned the fire, but I don't think either
side did much damage. Their bullets sang through the lumber gallery. The
melody was one that had become familiar to us.

Retreating through Soissons, we kept up a stiff fight, arriving intact at
the farther end of the town. Here we came upon fresh and terrible evidence
of the ruthlessness and wanton cruelty of the foe which we had first
confronted but a few days before, then believing that the traditions of
honourable warfare still existed. We came across scores of refugees--old
men and women--who had been beaten and driven from their homes without
cause. We had passed the dead bodies of many townspeople--killed,
seemingly, by artillery fire, yet, in some cases, exhibiting suspicious
wounds, as if bayonets or lances had been used. It was not, however, until
we were marching through the throng of refugees, outside the town, that
indisputable and utterly shocking proofs of the inhumanity of the Huns
came to our eyes. In perambulators we saw wailing children with mangled or
missing hands. I know that it has been hotly disputed that such dastardly
crimes as these were committed by the Germans. I know also that the
disputants who contend against the truth of these reports never marched
with us the weary and awful miles amid the fleeing and miserable people of
Soissons.

These mutilated children I, myself, and my comrades saw. Two at least, I
recollect with bloody stumps where baby hands had been, and one whose foot
had been severed at the ankle. _I saw these things._ I saw them; and I
live to say that others with me saw them--brawny Highlanders whose tears
of pity flowed with those of the mothers who wept for heart-break and with
those of the babies who wept from the pain of the wounds which had maimed
them. Ay, there were witnesses enough; and witnesses remain, though many
of the Black Watch who that day saw and cursed the cowardly brutality of
the Huns were to lie, but too soon, with their voices hushed for ever, so
that they may not speak of it. But we who still live may tell of it--and
dare a challeng