At night on the 27th, sergeant Docherty accompanied Lieutenant Penn, R.A., to a point in the ravine near the cemetery where some rifle pits were to be established. After acquainting himself with the locality, he was directed by the officer to return to the trenches and visit the workmen. The night was very dark, and danger was apprehended from some Russian screens near the garden wall. Docherty picked his way as best he could, without a track to guide him, over broken ground and by detached blocks of rock and precipitous cliffs, till he clambered up a beetling brow to the crest of the valley, where, lying down, he applied his ear to discover if any one was astir in his vicinity. There were footsteps not far from him—the measured pace of a sentinel, towards whom he cautiously moved; but as he went nearer, he saw, through the darkness, the shadowy outline of two men whom he suspected belonged to a Russian picket. Wishing, as he was still unobserved, to be assured of his position before proceeding further, he used the faint whistle which the English sentries knew how to acknowledge, and his signal was returned by a purling sound equally faint. No longer in doubt of his safety he advanced to the two men, one of whom was a sergeant; but as Docherty, approaching them from the front, was looked upon as a spy, he was marched to the field officer of the trenches. Speaking English, and making known his corps and rank, were only so many proofs to the sergeant that his prisoner was a clever Russian. The field officer examined him, and receiving accurate replies to his interrogatories on subjects which a sapper only could have become acquainted with, dismissed him—to the surprise of the sergeant, who was thus deprived of the chance of recording, among the incidents of his trench life, the capture of a Russian spy. Fears were expressed on the 29th March that the enemy was mining under one of the cave magazines on the right attack. A sapper acquainted with the methods of detecting subterranean noises volunteered to enter the cave to ascertain if any work was being carried on beneath it. In this hole, with enough gunpowder in it to excite alarm, he coolly immured himself for more than two hours; but hearing nothing to convince him of the existence of a countermine, quitted his concealment and allayed by his report the apprehension. On the 31st March, private William Relf was severely wounded in the knee, and second-corporal Richard Bridgman was hit slightly in the face and shoulder. Both were struck by splinters from the same shell. For months this non-commissioned officer was daily and nightly in the trenches serving out the tools on the right attack, and on three or four occasions the helves of axes and shovels have been shattered in his hand while passing them to the workmen.