earth in innumerable places presented a most singular appearance. It was as if some giant plow had been driven again and again across it, so turning up the rich brown soil that nature's covering of green was almost entirely obliterated.

"The marmites have made a pretty thorough job of it," remarked Don.

"Why are the big shells called marmites?" inquired Chase.

"Because they gouge a big round hole in the ground somewhat like the shape of a saucepan, in French a marmite," explained the aviator's son.

"Thanks. Ruin—ruin, as far as the vision carries; ruin—ruin beyond, and still further beyond!"

"Yes; but there is something which seems to typify the unconquerable spirit of the nation," exclaimed Dunstan.

With a sweep of his hand he called attention to several peasant women and old men, in sabots or wooden shoes, guiding plows and harrows across a field.

"Farming in this part of France just now certainly has its drawbacks," said Don. "I've heard it said that to one shell which lands in the trenches a hundred drop behind the lines."

Resuming the march, the ambulanciers went down the gentle slopes of the hill. Soldiers had scarcely ever been out of their sight, and now more of them became in evidence. Groups of bearded, sun-tanned men, whose uniforms showed the effects of weather and contact with the earth, were taking things easy in the shade of the trees or along the road.

"But if a bombardment should suddenly start up the timber would seem almost to swallow them," declared the art student. "There must be dugouts and bomb-proof shelters all through these woods."

"Votre laissez passer, messieurs, s'il vous plait!"[6]

A sentry's challenge rang out sharply.

One glance at their papers, and he waved them on.

Up and down hill they tramped. The day was superb, and legions of light, fleecy clouds sent legions of delicate shadows skimming across the landscape. But though peace was in nature the ambulanciers were always forcibly reminded of the fact that the great war was going on all about them.

Over the brow of another ridge a sign conspicuously nailed to a tree brought them to a pause.

"No vehicles further than this by 

 Prev. P 25/146 next