The action of the animal rather than his own eyesight made him reckon aright.
A horse would not be afraid of living men, and, slipping from the back of Marne, John approached cautiously.

A few rays of wan moonlight filtered through the trees, and when he had come close he shuddered over and over again.

About a dozen men lay on the ground and all were stone dead.

The torn earth and their own torn figures showed that a shell had burst among them.

Doubtless it had been an infantry patrol, and the survivors had hurried away.
John, still shuddering, was about to turn back to his horse, when he remembered that he needed much and that in war one must not be too scrupulous.