of steel, held the enemy at his distance all the
rest of the day. We were near to exhaustion and some of the men dropped
out of the ranks only to die of the strain. Although our pipers were as
weary as the rest of us, they sensed that we needed encouragement, and
with great effort struck up a march. Very soon we had left the forest
behind us.

It is impossible to describe the effect of the skirl of those pipes that
day. It was like a message from Heaven. We had not heard them since Mons,
and now they were leading us out of a forest that was a picture of
weirdness itself; leading us out into the beautiful open country. What joy
we felt!

At this time we were retiring almost directly toward Paris. For seventeen
hours we marched with halts only when it was absolutely necessary. We had
been in France four weeks, though it seemed like four years.

One of our chief discomforts was the lack of water. Toward evening we
halted alongside a cucumber patch. The men simply went wild, running into
the field and sucking the juicy young cucumbers. I "drank" twelve myself,
but we had not had time to satisfy ourselves when the Prussian artillery
got the range again and we had to get out of the field--those of us who
could. I have heard some "cussing" during my career in the army, but I
don't think I ever listened to anything quite like the brand that
accompanied our departure from that field.

After marching a considerable distance, we were billeted in barns in a
small village. This was a cheering circumstance, as the farmer gave us
chickens and allowed us to get vegetables to make up a _real_ warm meal,
which I can assure you was enjoyed royally. We expected to stay here some
time, so we made for the barns and lay down among the hay.

I don't think you could possibly form an idea of the _utter_ weariness of
the men or of the manner in which we were incessantly harassed. We never
got a decent chance to eat, drink, or rest. The incidents of the cornfield
and the cucumber patch are typical. Many men died of sheer exhaustion.
When we entered the barn I was so absolutely petered out that I went to
sleep almost before my body touched the hay.

We had been in the barn only about two hours when there was a great
commotion. I waked up half suffocated, but I didn't care. Somebody kicked
me in the ribs as I was turning over to sleep again.

"_The barn's on fire!_" he yelled.

There was an odour of paraffin. It seemed that some German agent