In course of time we came to notice that the most dangerous part of the road lay between a willow tree-stump and the White Farm. Our men were shot here nightly in getting back to the trenches. A party was formed to make a tour of the field in which the tree-trunk stood. The first thing we noticed was that after we entered this enclosure the shots were less numerous. We split up in open order and approached the willow, taking care to drop to the ground on our hands and knees. As we neared the tree, lo and behold! a shot rang out from it and only just missed the corporal. He jumped up at once and we all followed suit. All dashed on for the tree. What did we find? It was nothing but a purposely hollowed trunk used as a shielded nest for a German sniper, the inside being fitted with a shelf to rest his arm on as he coolly picked off our men through a hole. He endeavoured to make his escape in the darkness, but we brought him down. He had evidently been using this sniping place for weeks, though this was the first time we had located him. CHAPTER VIII. THREE DEATH TRAPS. I suppose it may be said, without exaggeration, that we were in a death trap all the time, but I have sketches to show of three particular and "extra special" sort of death traps. The first is of:-- SUICIDE BRIDGE. [Illustration: "SUICIDE BRIDGE."] This bridge, made by the British, was called "Suicide Bridge," because it was, and was at, such a specially dangerous spot. The British trenches were in the foreground and beyond the bridge. We held these trenches for fourteen days against the enemy's attacks. The gap was nine feet deep at this corner, and the black hole on the left faintly showing a fireplace was our kitchen, scarred by bullet marks made by snipers. The place was infested with rats. Great water-rats were continually getting at our food and cheese in the dug-outs. In one "rat hunt" we killed eighteen of these rodents in one morning. The stream itself supplied us with drinking water, but one day our men began to fall ill. The doctor analysed the water and discovered that the dastardly Huns had poisoned the stream higher up, where it ran through their lines. We warned the rest of the battalion by the field telephone wires and saved them all from being poisoned. An exasperating though _not_ murderous "kultur" trick was to send us insulting messages down the stream enclosed in bottles, calling us "dirty dogs," "English swine," etc., etc. The final furious attempt of the Germans to dislodge us began in the daylight. Their snipers advanced first in an open field beyond the trees and took cover in a wagon, which we located by the ridge of flame.