stereoscopic lenses, in the
quiver of sunlight, and had the sinister look of a death-haunted place.
It was where the French had fought their way through gardens, walls,
and houses in murderous battle, before leaving it for British troops to
hold. Across it now came the whine of shells, and I saw that shrapnel
bullets were kicking up the dust of a thousand yards down the straight
road, following a small body of brown men whose tramp of feet raised
another cloud of dust, like smoke. They were the only representatives of
human life--besides ourselves--in this loneliness, though many men must
have been in hiding somewhere. Then heavy "crumps" burst in the fields
where the sheep were browsing, across the way we had to go to the
brigade headquarters.

"How about it?" asked the captain with me. "I don't like crossing that
field, in spite of the buttercups and daisies and the little frisky
lambs."

"I hate the idea of it," I said.

Then we looked down the road at the little body of brown men. They were
nearer now, and I could see the face of the officer leading them--a boy
subaltern, rather pale though the sun was hot. He halted and saluted my
companion.

"The enemy seems to have sighted our dust, sir. His shrapnel is
following up pretty closely. Would you advise me to put my men under
cover, or carry on?"

The captain hesitated. This was rather outside his sphere of influence.
But the boyishness of the other officer asked for help.

"My advice is to put your men into that ditch and keep them there until
the strafe is over." Some shrapnel bullets whipped the sun-baked road as
he spoke.

"Very good, sir."

The men sat in the ditch, with their packs against the bank, and wiped
the sweat off their faces. They looked tired and dispirited, but not
alarmed.

In the fields behind them--our way--the 4.2's (four--point-twos) were
busy plugging holes in the grass and flowers, rather deep holes, from
which white smoke-clouds rose after explosive noises.

"With a little careful strategy we might get through," said the captain.
"There's a general waiting for us, and I have noticed that generals are
impatient fellows. Let's try our luck."

We walked across the wild flowers, past the sheep, who only raised their
heads in meek surprise when shells came with a shrill, intensifying
snarl and burrowed up the earth about them. I noticed how loudly and
sweetly the larks were singing up in the blue. Several horses lay dead,
newly kil