And the chorus of arrogant, cock-sure Austrian soldiers would vociferate:-- "But the Col di Lana--never!" When March came in, however, we discovered that the enemy were becoming suspicious. The steady burrowing noise of our drills and the thud of our pickaxes awoke them, as we drew nearer and nearer to their positions, to the reality of the situation. Soon we became aware that they had started excavating a counter-mine. Don Gelasio brought the news to the day-squad with words of encouragement:-- "Go ahead, boys!" he said. "Put on speed as much as you can. It's now a matter of a race for life." We were now boring slightly upwards, to get as near as possible to the summit of the Col di Lana, and the turn matters had taken necessitated an earlier date for the eruption of our artificial volcano than we had contemplated. So, after we had been working with feverish haste for another three weeks, our chief held a council of war and announced that the fateful day was near. "To-morrow or the day after we must place the explosive," he said. "We shall need ten tons of gelatine and dynamite. I'm having the extreme end of the _galleria_, which cannot be far away now from the enemy's positions, blocked with a shield of thick armoured steel, in order to turn the force of the explosion upward, and at the same time save the remaining portion of the main tunnel from destruction. I'm counting on that as an open pathway when the moment comes for rushing the enemy trenches--or all that will be left of them. Ah! in spite of all their tardy attempts to counter-mine us, they little suspect on what a volcano they are sitting!" For the dangerous task of leading the way through the tunnel, directly after the explosion, forty of our bravest _alpini_ came forward, being promised a fortnight's leave if the attempt succeeded. At last everything was ready and the hour fixed--half-past eleven on a Tuesday night--for the firing of the mine. How the time hung on our hands all that afternoon and evening! All the while we wondered what progress the enemy had made with _his_ boring, asking ourselves whether we should forestall him or not. More anxious hours I never passed in my life. What a relief it was when the hour struck for testing the efficiency of our work. I can still see Don Gelasio Caetani as he stood at the wheel of his little electric generator, ready to give the couple of turns which would set free the destructive spark. We surrounded him in his little dugout, waiting with bated breath, for the sound of the explosion. III--"A HELLISH ROAR BURST FORTH" At last Caetani spun the wheel. Heavens! what a din ensued! The mountain seemed to be shaken to its very base. A hellish roar burst forth and rolled like thunder over the vast wastes of the Dolomites, and a terrific blast of air smote upon us even in our shelter.