I had crawled in this fashion for about 150 yards, when I heard a shell come shrieking in my direction. With a plunk it fell, and exploded about forty feet away, choking me with sand and half blinding me for about five minutes. The acrid fumes, too, which came from it, seemed to tighten my throat, making respiration very difficult for some ten minutes afterwards. Cautiously looking round, I tried to locate the other scouts, but nowhere could they be seen. I crawled for another thirty yards or so, but still no sign of them. Deciding that if I continued by myself I had everything to lose and nothing to gain, I concluded that discretion was the better part of valour. Possibly the buzzing sensation in my throat, and the smarting of my eyes, helped me in coming to that decision, so I retraced my steps, or rather crawl. Getting back to the encampment, I bathed my eyes in water, which quickly soothed them. In a short time news came in that the scouts were returning. Hurrying to the spot indicated, I was just in time to film them on their arrival. The exultant look on their faces told me that they had done good work. I then filmed a general view of the encampment, and several other interesting scenes, and was just on the point of departing when the Chief asked me to partake of some food with him. Being very hungry, I accepted the invitation, and afterwards, over a cup of coffee and cigarettes, I obtained through an interpreter some very interesting information. The night being now well advanced, I bade the Chief adieu, and striking out across the dunes I made for Furnes. The effect of the star-shells sent up by the Germans was very wonderful. They shed a vivid blue light all round, throwing everything up with startling clearness. After about a mile I was suddenly brought up by the glitter of a sentry's bayonet. "Password, monsieur." Flashing a lamp in my face, the man evidently recognised me, for he had seen me with his officer that day, and the next moment he apologised for stopping me. "Pardon, monsieur," he said. "Pass, Monsieur Anglais, pardon!" Accepting his apologies, I moved off in the direction of Furnes, where, after reviewing the events of the previous days, I came to the conclusion that I had every reason to be thankful that I had once more returned from an interesting and fruitful adventure with a whole skin. CHAPTER IV THE BATTLE OF THE SAND-DUNES A Dangerous Adventure and What Came of It--A Race Across the Sand-dunes--And a Spill in a Shell-Hole--The Fate of a Spy--A Battle in the Dunes--Of which I Secured Some Fine Films--A Collision with an Obstructive Mule. I arrived at Oost-Dunkerque, which place I decided to use as a base for this journey, chiefly because it was on the main route to Nieuport Bain. Having on my previous visit proceeded on foot, and returned successfully, I decided that I should go by car. To get what I required meant that I should have to pass right through the French lines.