speaking. His gallery was getting nearer to ours. I told the
Sergeant to work only when Bosche was doing so."

"When are you going to 'blow' ----?"

"I am not sure of the date, but 'Dinkie' is going to 'poop' in a few
days. He's got two tons under Bosche. It will be a ---- fine show; right
under his trenches. Ought to snip a hundred or so."

"Well," said another, "I was down in C shaft, and could hear Bosche
working very hard, as if he had got all the world to himself."

At that moment a tunnelling-sergeant came in, and reported that the
Bosche was much nearer. The listener could distinctly hear talking
through the 'phone.

An officer immediately got up and went out with the sergeant, one of the
speakers meanwhile suggesting that Brother Bosche was certainly going
to visit realms of higher kultur than he had hitherto known.

Then came a close scrutinising of maps, showing shafts in the making and
mines ready for "blowing"; of sharp orders to the tunnelling-sergeants
and fatigue parties to bring charges from the magazine. The whole thing
was fascinating in the extreme. A new branch of His Majesty's Service,
and one of the most dangerous. To be on duty in a listening-post thirty
feet underground--in a narrow tunnel, scarcely daring to breathe,
listening to German miners making a counter-mine, and gradually picking
their way nearer and nearer, until at last you can hear their
conversation--would try the nerves of the strongest of men.

I went out, and made my way towards the well-known Quarries. Noting
several interesting scenes of our Scottish battalions at work, I filmed
them. A most pathetic touch was added to the scene, for a neat little
graveyard occupied the right-hand corner, and about one hundred small
crosses were there.

I was not allowed to remain very long. The Bosche sent over several
aerial torpedoes, which exploded with terrific force and split up the
ground as if a 12-inch H.E. shell had been at work. Naturally every one
rushed to obtain as much cover as possible. I crossed to the other side
of the Quarry, and entered a small tunnel, which led into a winding maze
of narrow communication trenches.

[Illustration: IN THE MAIN STREET OF CONTALMAISON THE DAY OF ITS
CAPTURE]

[Illustration: LAUNCHING A SMOKE BARRAGE AT THE BATTLE OF ST. ELOI]

"Be careful, sir," called a sentry. "Bosche is only thirty yards away,
and they are plugging this corner pretty thoroughly; they're fairly
whizzing through th