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Having ridden beyond the village, continually meeting and

overtaking soldiers and officers of various regiments, they saw

on their left some entrenchments being thrown up, the freshly dug

clay of which showed up red. Several battalions of soldiers, in

their shirt sleeves despite the cold wind, swarmed in these

earthworks like a host of white ants; spadefuls of red clay were

continually being thrown up from behind the bank by unseen hands.

Prince Andrew and the officer rode up, looked at the

entrenchment, and went on again. Just behind it they came upon

some dozens of soldiers, continually replaced by others, who ran

from the entrenchment. They had to hold their noses and put their

horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned atmosphere of these

latrines.

"Voila l'agrement des camps, monsieur le prince," * said the

staff officer.

* "This is a pleasure one gets in camp, Prince."