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[Page 59]
sand carts jolt noisily over the stones in its bed and the horses strain at the traces in the pull up the opposite bank. Once across we proceed due east. Behind us all the Signal Squadron is running out miles of wire as we go, Communications, of course.
It is a rather strange experience this, riding on and on under a canopy of blue set with a myriad star jewels over a [indecipherable] The light effects are especially peculiar. Every little while the starlight seems to glow with a strange whiteness as if the moon appeared at intervals, or was switched on with a button, and as suddenly switched on again. Others wiser than I on these matters may explain it, I cannot, but it is quite common on these night marches. As one gets a little drowsy too strange optical illusions, mirages by starlight, pass before him. Just a few dozen yards away to the right a troop appears to be riding by the banks of a running stream. Reflections and all are complete. One stares at it for quite a while before it vanishes. So the world rolls eastward, and under the stars all night, the momentum