taut as the barbed wire which the boches string so tight that
if it is cut in the night it will twang like the string of a violin. But
the quick shot in the night did not come, and I wriggled forward through
the wire.

I was almost at the edge of the parapet of the listening post. I heard
voices whispering in German. Some one was scrambling up over the parapet.
How was I to get away? I could not, so I lay on my belly and buried my
face in the earth--the earth which should be wholesome and life giving,
but which stunk with unspeakable things.

Three heads appeared above the parapet. Shoulders followed, and cautiously
a patrol of three men wriggled out from the listening post and then
separated. One of them, in getting out, slipped, and I could hear him
"strafing" under his breath, as he vanished into the night. Another head
thrust itself above the parapet. I was sure a pair of eyes were staring at
me, though I could not see them in the dark.

Once more I lay as if dead. "What's the difference?" I thought; in a few
moments, probably, I would be, and then I should not mind the sight or the
odour of what was around me.

The man in the listening post reached down for something at his feet. I
was sure that he was going to hurl a grenade in my direction. Something
came hurtling through the air. I sunk my teeth into my lip to keep from
crying out, and wondered how the explosion would feel--whether there was
any anguish in being torn to bits instantaneously. The dark object plumped
onto the ground at my side and bumped against my ribs. How long it took
for it to explode! Then I knew it was only a stone. I continued to lie as
still as one dead.

Another stone struck my shoulders. The sentry did not wish to rouse the
whole line and start a wastage of ammunition by causing a thousand rounds
or so to be fired uselessly into the night, as would probably be the case
should he discharge his rifle or throw a grenade. He crawled up over the
parapet and wriggled toward me. I tried to prepare myself to spring up
when the time came, but I dared not so much as move a foot to get a better
grip on the ground. He himself did not dare to rise. He knew that his
silhouette would draw fire from the trenches. It would be like a battle
between snakes, both of us on the ground there, fighting each other on our
bellies.

I saw the dull gleam of his bayonet. Still I did not dare to let him know
I was alive. He was only inches from me. I could hear