There were other amusements, also. I remember one day, during a downpour of rain, I sought shelter in a barn, where I found about forty officers and men, who were also sheltering there from the rain. The owner of the barn, a middle-aged _baba_, was there with her cow. I was in a mischievous mood and began to flirt with her, to the general merriment of the men. I paid her some flattering compliments and declared that she had captivated me. The woman did not recognize my sex and professed to be insulted. Encouraged by the uproar of the men, I persisted in my advances, and finally made an attempt to kiss her. The _baba_, infuriated by the laughter of the soldiers, seized a large piece of firewood, and with curses threatened me and the men. “Get out of here, you tormentors of a poor _baba_!” she cried. I did not want to provoke a fight and cried to her: “Why, you foolish woman, I am a peasant girl myself.” This only further inflamed our hostess. She took it for more ridicule and became more menacing. The officers and soldiers interfered, trying to persuade her of the truth of my words, as none of us wanted to be put out into the rain. However, it required more than words to convince her, so I was compelled to unbutton my coat. “Holy Jesus!” the woman crossed herself. “A _baba_, indeed.” And immediately her heart softened, and her tone changed into one of tenderness. She burst into tears. Her husband and son were in the army, she told me, and she hadn’t heard from them for a long time. She gathered me into her arms, and gave me food and some milk, inquiring about my mother and mourning over her lot. We parted affectionately, and she followed me with her blessings. It was snowing when we returned to the front line. Our position was now at Ferdinandovi Nos, between Lake Narotch and Baranovitchi. The first night the Commander of the Company issued a call for thirty volunteers to go scouting and investigate the strength and position of the enemy. I was among the thirty. We started out in single file, moving forward stealthily and as noiselessly as possible. We passed by some woods, in which an enemy patrol had hidden upon hearing the crackling of the snow beneath some of our soldiers’ boots. We crawled on to the enemy trenches and lay in front of his barbed wire. Our chests were flattened against the snow-drifts. We were rather uneasy, as our presence seemed strangely unnoticed. Our officer, Lieutenant Borbov, a former school teacher, but a fighting man of the first order, suddenly caught a noise in our rear. “There is something happening,” he whispered to us. We strained our ears, but we had scarcely had time to look round when we found ourselves surrounded by an enemy force, larger than our own. It was too late to shoot. We resorted to our bayonets, and it was a brief but savage fight. I found myself confronted by a German, who towered far above me. There was not an instant to lose. Life or death hung in the balance.