Three of the policemen went out one day with their rifles. I saw they were going on a little shooting expedition, and I took the liberty of following them, although they went several versts beyond the bounds of the camp. No objection was raised to my doing this; and the men sometimes lent me a rifle that I might have a shot or two. My own rifle, together with everything I possessed, except the clothes in which I stood, had disappeared; and also the horse on which I had arrived. But that could hardly be claimed as my property. We shot everything we could see that could be hit by a bullet, fowls, ducks, geese; and, on this occasion, a fat porker. How fattened does not matter: your true "old soldier" does not trouble himself about such trifles as the fattening of pigs in the war area. One of the policemen put a bullet through its head, and chuggy bit the dust without being properly bled in the orthodox way. We cut off its legs, its shoulders and the thickest part of the loin; and left the rest for the ravens, the dogs or piggy's own relatives--whichever came up first. Dogs, peculiarly cantankerous curs, ravens, crows and pigs, were numerous in all parts of Poland that I visited. I suppose the dogs and swine were tame until the war rendered them homeless and masterless, when they became semi-wild. By swine I do not mean wild boars. These last named were found in the woods and forests, and may have been originally of the same stock as the domestic animal; but they are quite easily recognized as distinct now. There are also wolves in this region; and they sometimes visited the battlefields; but I do not think they are very numerous. While we were dismembering the pig I noticed an old long-bearded stolid-looking peasant, closely watching us. I believe he claimed to be the owner of the pig. At any rate he was back in camp before we were, and we found him talking like a lawyer to the provost and police commissary. Our three policemen also had a great deal to say--I would have given something to know on what subject. I do not know what was the outcome of the confab; but we had roast pork for supper that night; and very delicious pork it was--Hun fed, or otherwise. I may add that the soldiers were constantly on the alert to secure these stray pigs, which were very much appreciated as an agreeable addition to black bread and blacker soup. The weather had fairly broken now: the thaw had set in all over the country, and the ground was in a dreadful condition, and scarcely passable for troops, and especially waggons and artillery. In the summer I thought I had never seen such dust as the dust of Poland: in the winter I knew I had never known such horrible mud as the mud of these wide plains. To see infantry marching through it was a sight of sights. They seemed to lift their knees to their chins before bringing their feet clear of it to take a step forward. The German goose-step was not in it as a funny sight. CHAPTER XXIII