tiously. They were within reach of the enemy, and an automobile might
attract the attention of their gunners.

"A little fatiguing, this climb," he continued. "Courage, Senator
Lacour! . . . We are almost there."

They began to meet artillerymen, many of them not in uniform but wearing
the military kepis. They looked like workmen from a metal factory,
foundrymen with jackets and pantaloons of corduroy. Their arms were
bare, and some had put on wooden shoes in order to get over the mud with
greater security. They were former iron laborers, mobilized into the
artillery reserves. Their sergeants had been factory overseers, and many
of them officials, engineers and proprietors of big workshops.

Suddenly the excursionists stumbled upon the iron inmates of the woods.
When these spoke, the earth trembled, the air shuddered, and the native
inhabitants of the forest, the crows, rabbits, butterflies and ants,
fled in terrified flight, trying to hide themselves from the fearful
convulsion which seemed to be bringing the world to an end. Just at
present, the bellowing monsters were silent, so that they came upon them
unexpectedly. Something was sticking up out of the greenery like a gray
beam; at other times, this apparition would emerge from a conglomeration
of dry trunks. Around this obstacle was cleared ground occupied by men
who lived, slept and worked about this huge manufactory on wheels.

The senator, who had written verse in his youth and composed oratorical
poetry when dedicating various monuments in his district, saw in these
solitary men on the mountain side, blackened by the sun and smoke,
with naked breasts and bare arms, a species of priests dedicated to
the service of a fatal divinity that was receiving from their hands
offerings of enormous explosive capsules, hurling them forth in
thunderclaps.

Hidden under the branches, in order to escape the observation of the
enemy's birdmen, the French cannon were scattered among the hills
and hollows of the highland range. In this herd of steel, there were
enormous pieces with wheels reinforced by metal plates, somewhat like
the farming engines which Desnoyers had used on his ranch for plowing.
Like smaller beasts, more agile and playful in their incessant yelping,
the groups of '75 were mingled with the terrific monsters.

The two captains had received from the general of their division orders
to show Senator Lacour minutely the workings of the artillery, and
Lacour w