e miles when a horseman on a broad-backed black came
towards us. He looked intently at every one he passed as he rode the
length of our column. "Is that the adjutant, sir?" he asked when he
came level with me; and then, sure of my identity, went on, "I've got
our supply waggon with me, sir--halted it at the next cross-roads. I
heard the Brigade was moving, sir, and came to find the best spot to
pick you up. The battery supply waggons will be passing this way in
about half an hour, sir."

Keeping daily touch with your supply column is one of the fine arts of
moving warfare, and the resourceful M'Donald had again proved his
worth. "Refilling point, to-morrow, will be at Baboeuf, sir," he added,
"and after to-morrow it will be only iron rations. Good forage to-day,
sir."

11 P.M.: Brigade Headquarters had pulled into the right of the road
behind B Battery, just outside a village that up to the 21st had been
a sort of rest-village, well behind the lines. Army Ordnance, Army
Service Corps, and battalions out of the line were the only units
represented there, and a fair proportion of the civil population had
re-established itself after the German retreat in the spring of 1917.
Now all was abandoned again, furniture and cattle bundled out, and
houses locked up in the hope that shortly the Boche would be thrust
back and the village re-occupied by its rightful owners.

The colonel had ridden forward with young Bushman to meet the
brigade-major and to settle where the Brigade would camp. More French
infantry passed, going up to the Front by the way we had come back.
Twice, big lasting flares illuminated the sky over there where the
fighting was--stores being burnt to prevent them falling into German
hands, we concluded. Presently, Bushman returned and pointed out a
particular area where Brigade Headquarters could settle down.

The small village green would do for horse lines and for parking our
vehicles. I sent off the sergeant-major to scout for water supply, and
took possession of a newly-roofed barn in which the men might sleep.
There was a roomy shed for the officers' horses and a stone outhouse
for the men's kitchen. Now about a billet for the colonel!

"There's a big house at the back, sir, with an artillery mess in it,"
said the sergeant-major, who had finished watering and feeding the
horses. "Perhaps there's a spare room there for the colonel."

I went round and came upon the officers of a 6-inch how. battery, who