us as the Germans 'ad ravished her. We used our field-dressings and
tried to make the poor soul comfortable and Capt'n 'e sent a volunteer
back for stretcher-bearers."

"And what about the Germans?" I asked.

"Ah, I be coming to that, zur. Capt'n says, 'Now, men, we're going to
reckon with those devils down below.' And we went downstairs and he
stood at top of cellar-steps, 'twere mortal dark, an' says, 'Come on up
out o' that there.' And they never answered a word, but we could 'ear
'em breathing hard. We did'n know how many there were and the cellar
steps were main narrow, as narrow as th' opening in that tent over
there. So Capt'n 'e says, 'Fetch me some straw, Hunt.' 'Twere a kind o'
farmhouse and I went out into the backside and vetched some. And Capt'n
and us put a lot of it at top of steps and pushed a lot more vurther
down, using our rifles like pitchforks and then 'e blew on his tinder
and set it alight. 'Stand back, men,' he says, 'and be ready for 'em
with the bay'net.' 'Tweren't no manner o' use shooting; 'twere too close
in there and our bullets might ha' ricochayed. We soon 'eerd 'em
a-coughing. There wur a terrible deal o' smoke, and there wur we
a-waiting at top of them stairs for 'em to come up like rats out of a
hole. And two on 'em made a rush for it and we caught 'em just like's we
was terriers by an oat-rick; we had to be main quick. 'Twere like
pitching hay. And then three more, and then more. And none on us uttered
a word.

"An' when it wur done and we had claned our bay'nets in the straw,
Capt'n 'e said, 'Men, you ha' done your work as you ought to ha' done.'"

He paused for a moment. "They be bad fellows," he mused. "O Christ! they