The stillness of death reigned for the next ten minutes perhaps. We kept our eyes glued on the fateful hill opposite, not exactly knowing what was going to happen, when all of a sudden there was the crash of a big gun and we heard the shriek of a shell as it passed overhead; then, with scarcely an interval this was followed up by such a succession of firing that it sounded like a thunderstorm let loose. The effect on the Col di Lana was startling: it was as though a series of volcanoes had started activity, all along the summit and just below it fantastic columns of smoke and dust rose high into the air. As the Colonel had truly said, every yard of the hill was under the fire of his batteries. It was an object lesson in precision of aim, and one almost felt sorry for the men who were thus, without the slightest warning, deluged with high explosives. Meanwhile the Austrian batteries did not fire a shot in reply. The bombardment lasted exactly ten minutes, and ceased as abruptly as it had started. “Wonderful,” we all exclaimed when we were reassembled at the station. The Colonel looked delighted with the way his instructions had been carried out. At that moment we heard the telephone bell ringing violently; he excused himself and hurried to the box, and was there some minutes. When he returned the look of elation on his face had disappeared. “That was the General ringing up,” he explained. “He heard the firing and wanted to know what had happened suddenly. He is in an awful rage at my giving you this entertainment.” Of course we were all very sorry that he should have got into trouble on our account, but he seemed to make light of it, and evidently had no fear of unpleasant consequences. We then left the place and retraced our footsteps. There was no mule-riding going down the mountain unless you wanted to break your neck. It was far too steep, therefore we had to walk the whole way, a very long and tiring job. In the valley below was the village of Caprile, where we had arranged to meet our cars. A mountain stream ran past the village, and there was a broad, open space of ground facing the houses, in which was a large encampment with long sheds and hundreds of horses and mules picketted. As we were walking across to the inn, where we were going to lunch, we heard the dull boom of a gun in the distance, and in a few seconds the approaching wail of a projectile, followed by the report of the explosion a short distance away, and we saw the shell had burst on the hillside a few feet from the Red Cross Hospital. We had been remarking how quietly the Austrians had taken our artillery attack. This was evidently the commencement of their reply. The report had scarcely died away than there was a general scurrying of everyone for shelter; mules and horses were rapidly released and hurriedly led away. Then another report was heard in the distance.