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KEHRAUS 83
searchlight was shining steadily, slowly passing
its rays over the eastern portion of the valley and
in amongst the foot-hills. To the south, from
the Golden Hill, and to the south-west, from Ize-
shan, two more searchlights explored the central
and western parts of the Japanese lines, the light
from Golden Hill at times sending its rays right
up to our hill, blinding us, if we looked at it, like
sunshine, and making every stone, every straw,
every feature of our faces, stand out as clearly as
in broad daylight—at a distance of over six miles.
At times we could hear a faint zish in the air,
when a star-shell was fired. A thin, scarcely
perceptible curved line of sparks mounting sky-
wards, a rain of white phosphorous stars sinking
slowly, slowly through the dark night, a glory of
light, a dream of beauty—and a means of illumi-
nating, for a few moments, the underlying country,
far superior to the rays of a half-score search-
lights. The light, of great intensity, coming from
direct overhead, throws no deep shadows and lays
bare every man and object within the huge circle
of light. These star-shells were of the kind
familiar at firework displays at home, only much
bigger than any I had ever seen before, their
illuminative power being marvellous. Were it
not for the occasional booming of a gun and the
sudden red flash of a bursting shell, we might
have imagined that we were sitting on a high
terrace looking at some festa at a distance.
It was about eleven o’clock in the evening.
We sat quietly smoking and chatting, and ad-
miring the effects of the lights and the fireworks,
and were, for the time being, more occupied with
our own little private war with the mosquitoes than
with watching the moves in the bigger game of
war in front of us. Suddenly we heard musketry
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