lled
my raincoat and secured it over one shoulder, "bandolier fashion." I
next covered the brass buttons of my tunic with mud, to prevent their
reflecting the rays of a possible flashlight, and, after smearing some
dirt on my face and hands, moved forward once more, prepared, in case
of discovery, to make a dash towards the west regardless of the
consequences.

In a few minutes I saw, by the even line of the higher ground in
front, that I had almost reached the raised canal, and was just
preparing to mount the short, grassy slope when I came upon a
hard-worn narrow track running along near the edge of a rather wide
dyke, which separated me from the embankment. The dyke being in the
lee of the wind it seemed advisable to ascertain whether it was
possible to cross by any plank or bridge which might be in the
vicinity in preference to going through it, for, though one may be
able to get into a dyke quietly enough, the getting out is a very
different matter when the sides are steep and one's clothes full of
water. Walking along this path very warily for about twenty yards, I
was lucky enough to discover a plank leading across (for except for
the faint silhouette of the top of the embankment against the sky,
practically everything was hidden by the darkness). Though the plank
bent threateningly I succeeded in crossing it, and crawled to the top
of the rise. A glance revealed a broad, reed-fringed canal, reflecting
little dancing lights on its wind-swept surface--the stars which had
the audacity to peep out from between the clouds. I could hear the
splashings of a water-rat actually swimming at that time of night for
the fun of it! Quickly crossing the tow-path and parting the reeds, I
followed its example, and, not waiting to remove pack, clothing or
shoes, swam towards the opposite bank as silently as possible. It can
only have been a few yards across, but I remember feeling almost as
tired as if I had swum the Channel. This was the tenth night of my
escapade, and the strain was certainly beginning to tell. As I was
leaving the canal behind some wild duck rose from a dyke close by me,
with much flapping of wings. If their desire was to frighten me they
certainly achieved their object.

When, after an hour or more, I continued plodding along without seeing
anything unusual, I could not help again wondering if I was still in
German territory. My curiosity increased when two motor cycles with
powerful headlights went by on