was there that we felt death drawing near. But we beached ourselves
at last on a sort of clay embankment that divided the swamp. As we
followed the slippery back of this slender island along, I remember
that once we had to stoop and steer ourselves by touching some
half-buried corpses, so that we should not be thrown down from the soft
and sinuous ridge. My hand discovered shoulders and hard backs, a face
cold as a helmet, and a pipe still desperately bitten by dead jaws.

As we emerged and raised our heads at a venture we heard the sound of
voices not far away. "Voices! Ah, voices!" They sounded tranquil to us,
as though they called us by our names, and we all came close together
to approach this fraternal murmuring of men.

The words became distinct. They were quite near--in the hillock that we
could dimly see like an oasis: and yet we could not hear what they
said. The sounds were muddled, and we did not understand them.

"What are they saying?" asked one of us in a curious tone.

Instinctively we stopped trying to find a way in. A doubt, a painful
idea was seizing us. Then, clearly enunciated, there rang out these
words--"Achtung!--Zweites Geschutz--Schuss--" Farther back, the report
of a gun answered the telephonic command.

Horror and stupefaction nailed us to the spot at first--"Where are we?
Oh, Christ, where are we?" Turning right about face, slowly in spite of
all, borne down anew by exhaustion and dismay, we took flight, as
overwhelmed by weariness as if we had many wounds, pulled back by the
mud towards the enemy country, and retaining only just enough energy to
repel the thought of the sweetness it would have been to let ourselves
die.

We came to a sort of great plain. We halted and threw ourselves on the
ground on the side of a mound, and leaned back upon it, unable to make
another step.

And we moved no more, my shadowy comrades nor I. The rain splashed in
our faces, streamed down our backs and chests, ran down from our knees
and filled our boots.

We should perhaps be killed or taken prisoners when day came. But we
thought no more of anything. We could do no more; we knew no more.

XXIV

The Dawn

WE are waiting for daylight in the place where we sank to the ground.
Sinister and slow it comes, chilling and dismal, and expands upon the
livid landscape.

The rain has ceased to fall--there is none left in the sky. The leaden
plain and its mirrors of sullied water seem to issue not o