This brought me into the firing zone, and the region of snow. My danger was increased, and my mode of progress more difficult, because for the first time in my life I had to take to skis. So many people have told the story of their first attempts with these that I will content myself with saying that, after many tumbles, I became roughly accustomed to them, and that when sledge transport was not available, I was able to make my way on ski. I don't suppose anyone else has ever learned to ski under such queer conditions, with the roar of big guns rumbling round all the time, with my whole expedition trembling every moment in the balance. The end of my journey to St. Dié was the most dramatic part of the whole business. Tired out, I saw a café on the outskirts of the village, which I thought would serve me as a reconnoitring post, so I went in and ordered some coffee. I had not been there five minutes when some officers walked in, and drew themselves up sharply when they saw a stranger there, in a mud-stained costume that might have been a British army uniform. I decided to take the bold course. I rose, saluted them, and in my Anglo-French wished them good evening. They returned my greeting and sat down, conversing in an undertone, with an occasional side-flung glance at me. I saw that my attack would have to be pushed home, especially as I caught the word "_espion_," or my fevered imagination made me think I did. I rose and crossed to their table, all smiles, and in my best French heartily agreed with them that one has to be very careful in war time about spies. In fact, I added, I had no doubt they took me for one. This counter-attack--and possibly the very noticeable Britishness of my accent--rather confused them. Happily one of them spoke a little English, and, with that and my little French, satisfactory explanations were made. I affected no secrecy about my object, and asked them frankly if it would be possible for pictures of their regiment to be taken. One of them promised to speak to the Commandant about it. I begged them not to trouble about it, however, as really all I wanted was a hint as to when and where an engagement was probable, and then I would manage to be there. They shrugged their shoulders in a most grimly expressive way. "If you do that it will be at your own risk," they said. I gladly accepted the risk, and they then told me of one or two vantage points in the district from which I might manage to see something of the operations, taking my chance, of course, of anything happening near enough to be photographed, as they could not, and quite rightly would not, say anything as to the plans for the future. It was not quite midday. I had at least four hours of daylight, and I determined not to lose them. It was obvious that my stay in St. Dié would be very brief at the best. I hired a sledge and persuaded the driver to take me part of the way at least to the nearest point which the officers had mentioned.