m the French railway staff, but concluded
they either did not understand our variation of their beautiful language
or were sullen brutes knowing nothing.

As we continued northward the throbbing of distant gunfire became
plainer, and a strange flickering could be seen in the morning sky. This
strange light, caused by the flash of the guns and the flares or
illuminating fuzees shot up by the infantry, resembled nothing so much
as our own Aurora Borealis, and we were not surprised to find, a little
later, that our men had already nicknamed them the "Northern Lights."

Dawn brought us to a halt by some little town where the engine-driver
proceeded leisurely to fill his boiler. We availed ourselves of the
chance to exercise our French on some Algerian troops who were lying
wounded all over the platform. A rough tent had been made with waggon
tarpaulins, and under this lay the worst cases--ghastly wrecks of men
with blood-soaked bandages and blood-encrusted clothing, face muscles
twitching convulsively as masses of flies settled on them. One French
medical orderly with a strip of silver on his sleeves and an assistant
seemed to be the whole staff of the place.

One tall chap with a handsome beard showed us how a bullet had torn
through his cap and grazed his head, while a rude sling and a crutch
spoke of a more serious injury of which he said nothing. His white teeth
and smiling face turned to a horrible scowl as he continued talking, and
thinking we were over-exciting him, we moved away. Had we only known, he
was trying to describe to us the terrible effect of the asphyxiating gas
on his comrades who were less educated than he!

A few miles further on we detrained at Poperinghe and were soon marching
along a beautiful avenue of poplars--now perhaps the most famous highway
in Flanders, the Vlamertinghe road.

Refugees passed us with all their worldly effects piled on a waggon, the
women and little children clattering along behind in their wooden
sabots. It seemed so unnecessary. The guns that had been pounding away
all night were now strangely silent, and the fields on either side
seemed peaceful enough. There was even a farmer plowing stoically in
one.

A little further on we saw a horse that had been hurriedly cut out from
a gun or waggon team. It needed but one glance to tell us that shrapnel
had done its deadly work there, and we wondered vaguely what had become
of its rider, for the saddlery and harness were still