CHAPTER XI
THROUGH THE LINES
It was stiff, tiresome work lying quiet in the ditch that day, butwith brambles pulled over them the boys were in comparatively littledanger of discovery. At dusk they crawled cautiously out of theirhiding-place and slowly headed northward. Every sound meant Germansto them, and their first mile was a succession of sallies forward,interspersed with sudden dives underneath the hedge by the roadside.The moon came up. The clank of harness and the gear of guns andwagons told of approaching artillery or transport, or both. Fromthe shelter of the hedge the boys watched long lines of dusty shapesmove slowly past. They seemed to be taking an interminable timeabout it. Now and then a rough guttural voice rasped out an order.
The boys waited for what seemed hours to them, and the very momentthey would move, along would come another contingent of some sort.They had evidently struck a corps shifting southward. At last agood sized gap in the long, ghostly line gave them courage tocross. They got through safely enough, and kept on steadily fora time across country. They skirted two villages, and reached ahaystack near a river-bank before daybreak. Out toward the eastthey saw the faint outlines of a fairly large town. Before themlay the river, spanned by a bridge guarded at each end by a Germansentry. Hope fell several degrees.
The boys had climbed upon the stack and pulled the straw well overthem. As they lay looking toward their goal, to the north, thehome of the owner of the stack was at their backs. He made hisappearance at an early hour, and came not far distant. After awhispered conference, Bob hailed him in a low tone. First the littleman bolted back into his house without investigating the whereaboutsof the mysterious voice. After a time he reappeared, and when Bobagain sung out to him, he gingerly approached the stack, staringat it like mad, in spite of Bob's continuous warnings that he shouldnot do so. Finally Bob induced him to mount the slight ladder bywhich the boys had climbed to their point of vantage.
He was a little man, with a thin red beard, great rings in his ears,and piercing, shifty eyes. A reddish, diminutive sort of man,altogether, with a thin little voice that went with his generalappearance. He was literally scared stiff at the idea of the Bochesfinding the boys on his premises. That would mean his house burned,and death for himself, he said. Germans were all about, he saidfearfully, and no one could escape them. He was so frankly nervousand so devoutly wishful that the boys had never come near him andhis, that Bob, to ease the little man's mind, promised that the boyswould swim the river when dark came and relieve the tension so faras the stack-owner was concerned. He was eager enough to see thatthe boys were well hidden, and before he climbed down the ladderhe piled bundle after bundle upon them, as if preferring that theyshould be smothered rather than discovered by the dreaded Boches.
That was a tiring day, a hungry, thirsty day, but the boys lay asstill as mice. From where they lay they could see a sufficientnumber of Germans passing and repassing along the road and acrossthe bridge to hourly remind them of the necessity of keeping closecover.
At night, before nine o'clock, they climbed down from their hiding-place,went to the edge of the river, undressed, and waded out neck-deep.Dicky stepped on a stone that rolled over and in righting himselfsplashed about once or twice. In a moment a deep voice could beheard from the opposite bank, growling out, _"Was ist das?"_ Theboys kept perfectly still, and heard the German call out for someoneto come. Quietly each of the boys ducked his head and gently wadedback under water to the shelter of their own bank. There they sat,very cold and miserable, for some time. Then the moon came out andlit up the country-side bright as day.
"It's off for to-night," whispered Bob. "We must go back and haveanother try to-morrow night. That was bad luck. The Boche couldhardly have been a sentry. I think he was just there by chance.What rotten luck!" So back they went, wet and cold, to their nestat the top of the stack, in anything but a hopeful frame of mind.
They fell into a sound sleep before long, and were awakened quiteearly next morning by the weight of someone ascending the ladder."A Boche this time!" whispered Dicky as he regained consciousness."That light little man never could make such a commotion."
The perspiration broke out on Bob's forehead.
An age seemed to pass before the head of the intruder came intoview. What was their surprise and relief to see the round smilingface of a Belgian woman of considerable size and weight! Redbeardhad told her of his unwelcome guests and she had come to offer suchsuccor and assistance as might lie in her power.
She was the widow of a Belgian officer, killed in the first fightingof the war. She asked if the boys were hungry, and when Bob admittedthat they had been on very short rations indeed for some time shereached down and drew up a little basket containing a bottle of redwine and a plate of beans.
The Germans had taken most of the food in the district, and beanswere her only diet save on those occasions when she managed to getsome of the American relief food which a friend of hers had hiddenaway, drawing sparingly on the rapidly diminishing store.
It was a sad day for many folk in Belgium and Northern France, shesaid, when the American food stopped coming, but American soldiersshould find that she remembered. As to getting across the river, shecould guide the boys to a point where they might find it more easyto cross. She would return again at night and try to help themanother stage their journey.
The day seemed brighter after the woman's visit. Night came atlast, after an uneventful day of waiting, and with it the ampleform of madame. She led the boys two miles eastward to where theruins of a bridge still spanned part of the stream. Girders justbelow the water's surface made it possible to clamber across, shesaid, and there had not been a guard at that point for some months.The boys bade the good woman a very grateful good-by, and found thecrossing much easier than they had expected to find it.
Soon they were plodding on by starlight, and by midnight had reached,unmolested, a road that seemed to lead due north. They went aroundall villages, and learned to consider dogs a nuisance in so doing.At first they were unduly nervous. Faint moonlight played strangegames with their fancies. Once a tree-trunk held them at bay forsome minutes before they discovered it was not a German with a rifle.It certainly looked like a German. A restless cow, changing herpasture, sent them flying to cover. A startled rabbit dashed acrossthe road, and the boys flung themselves face downward in a gully ina twinkling. The night made odd, sounds, each one of sinisterimport to the fugitives. The wind sprang up and made noises thatcaused their hearts to jump into their throats half a dozen times.
The boys were sadly in need of food and drink. They decided to trythe hospitality of some of the villages as they passed a hamlet.Approaching a house on the far side of a little cluster of darkdwellings, they lay by the door and under one of the windows fora few minutes, listening for the heavy breathing that might betokenGerman occupants. All seemed quiet and propitious, so Bob gavea gentle knock and explained in a low tone that two Americans, inhiding from the Germans, wished to enter. Sounds of commotion camefrom the cottage. A light flashed from a window, and a woman'sshrill voice spoke the word "Americains" in anything but a low tone.A moment later, as they still waited for the door to open, a lightappeared in the next cottage, and another feminine voice repeatedthe surprised ejaculation, "Les Americains!"
"Come on," said Dicky. "The sooner we get out of this the better.That woman has raised the whole town."
The boys ran down the road quietly, but losing no time. Well itwas that they did so, for they had not gone far before several shotswere fired behind them, and one or two sinister bullets sang overtheir heads. They started running in good earnest then. Fortunatelythere was no pursuit. After a time they slowed down and again becamea prey to all their former fears of night noises. A large birdflew close to Bob's head and gave him quite a scare. As they pressedon along the roadway, the clatter of hoof-beats coming toward themsent them to the roadside, where, a ditch offered welcome refuge.
Bob
and Dicky jumped in, close together. At the bottom they hitsomething soft, which turned beneath them and gave a whistling gruntas their combined weight came down upon it. In an instant theyrealized that they had jumped full on top of a man. Who he wasor what he was doing there was of no moment to the boys. A soundfrom him might mean their capture. Bob grabbed the man, grappledwith him in the pitch dark, and choked him into unconsciousness,Dicky lending a hand. A troop of German cavalry clattered up.Just as the troop drew abreast, the order was given for them toslow from a trot into a walk. The boys held their breath. Graduallythe horsemen drew past, then away. Bob waited until they were wellin the distance, and then examined the poor fellow underneath. Ifthe boys had been scared to have jumped on the man, the man hadbeen more than scared to have had them do so.
There was all-round relief when the boys found the victim to be anelderly Belgian farmer; and the relief of the farmer himself as hegathered his scattered wits, to find that the boys had no designsfurther upon his welfare, was truly comic. The Germans, he said,had imposed severe penalties on inhabitants who roamed about thecountry-side between eight o'clock in the evening and daylight.His quest remained unexplained, except in so far as a sack ofsomething the boys did not examine might have explained it. Bobadvised the old man to remain where he was till morning light, andthe boys pressed on.
Before dawn they took refuge in a shed behind a house whose statelylines were marred by the marks of bombardment.
The owner of the half-ruined house and the shed where they had takenrefuge proved to be a fine old Belgian, courageous and full of resource.As soon as he found that the boys were escaping American airmen hebrought food and drink to them in plenty. They were a long way fromthe Holland line, he said, but they might, with care, get across.Others had done so. He would look into the probabilities andpossibilities, and let them know.
The shed was a bare, small building of rude boards, with nothing init. A few boards were placed across the eaves, forming a sort ofloft extending for some seven feet from the end of the building.It was on these boards that the boys spent their days while waitingfor an opportune moment to go further. Their host would not hear oftheir suggestions that they should leave the shed until he had arrangedplans for their reception at a further station on their journey.
"I wonder why he does not ask us to come into his house?" queriedDicky after the boys had been two days in the shed. "It seems to bebig enough---even what's left of it---to have plenty of hiding placesin it, judging from what I can see of it out of this hole in the roof."
"He probably has his reasons," was Bob's reply.
That he had was proven the next day, when a squad of German soldierscame and spent an hour searching the house. One of them glanced inthe doorway of the shed, but did not come inside. Seeing the baresurroundings, it evidently did not occur to him to glance upward.That night, when the Belgian brought their food, he told them thathis house was searched periodically, though as yet no one had beendiscovered in hiding there.
Impatiently, they spent a week on the hard boards of the loft in theshed. At last their host was ready for them to move on. He gavethem a map of the country, on which he marked the route and theirstopping places. After six hours' steady march through a drivingdownpour they found another shed, in just the place that had beendescribed to them before starting. It, too, had a hospitable loft,and food was there in plenty.
Two more stopping places, always in sheds or outbuildings, and theywere very near that part of the Dutch frontier which their friends,most of them unknown, were planning that they should cross. Money,they were told, was to be a factor in their obtaining entrance toHolland. They knew little of the detail of what happened. Theywere guided one night by a dwarfed cripple to a little wood, andthere spent four hours in weary waiting in absolute silence. Thenthe cripple returned and motioned them to follow him. This theydid, and when they reached the edge of the wood, commenced crawlingon all fours, as their guide was doing.
They crawled for some hundreds of yards, winding about the scrubbrush and tall grass, and then suddenly came upon a wire fence.A dark shape loomed up on the far side of this barrier. The cripple,aided by the man on the other side, held apart two strands of thewire, and cautioned the boys to step quickly through the opening.
The cripple disappeared in the black night, the dark form beside themmotioned in a ghost-like way to the blackness ahead of them, andwithout a sound they pressed on, as though in a dream, hardly daringto hope all would come out well.
By daylight they were able to distinguish something of the generaloutlines of the country, which was flat, damp and fog covered.A tall line of poplars led them toward a road. As they reached it,in the gray of the morning, Bob turned to Dicky and said the firstwords either of them had spoken for more than an hour.
"Do you think we are really in Holland, and free?" he queried.
"The whole thing was done in such a mysterious fashion, and silenceso rigidly enjoined by everybody, that I would not be surprisedif we have been smuggled out of Belgium, Bob," was Dicky's reply.
Nevertheless, they were most cautious as day came. They hid for atime, then decided to go to some homely cottage and see what mannerof folk they would find. Stealthily approaching a simple home, theywaited until they caught sight of the housewife who was outside it,feeding her chickens.
"She looks Dutch," said Dicky. "Let's try her."
They came upon her suddenly, but she showed no great surprise. Perhapsshe had seen escaping soldiers of the Allied Armies in that part ofthe world before. She could not understand either English or French,but offered the boys a drink of milk and some bread, taking the moneythey proffered for it and looking at the coins curiously before sheplaced them in her pocket.
"She is Dutch as Dutch," was Bob's conclusion.
Sure enough, they were in Holland at last.
Careful maneuvering enabled them to get a passage to England, thoughthey had to use camouflage in their answers to certain pointed questionsin order not to disclose the fact that they were American belligerents.
It was not until their arrival in London---which they reached withoutfurther incident---that something of their real adventures became known.
Bob voted that they proceed at once to Farnborough, which he hadheard was the headquarters of the British Flying Corps. An Englishintelligence officer who had helped them to get through from Hollandhad suggested Farnborough, too. Accordingly they wasted no time inLondon, except to inquire for the whereabouts of the Farnboroughtrain. They were soon at Waterloo Station, and by afternoon hadcome to the Royal Aircraft Factory Grounds, which were then atFarnborough. There the commander was very cordial to them, andfound a place for them to get a bath in a jiffy. More than oncethe boys had effected changes of raiment during their series ofadventures, but while they did not look quite as bad as they didwhen they assumed their first disguise in France, they were stilldressed in odd fashion. Two smart British uniforms were given them,and they were told that they would be very welcome and honoredguests at the general's mess for dinner.
At dinner they told their story in relays, to an intensely interestedaudience. It was voted a truly great adventure, and the two youngAmericans were overwhelmed with genuine admiration from their Britishcomrades.
"I suppose your squad have no idea you escaped, have they?" asked thegeneral, who was a very youthful man for his rank.
"I dare say they imagine we are done for," answered Bob. "I thinkwe should send word to them as soon as we can."
"We have a squadron of pushers going over in the morning, sir,"remarked the commander to the general, "and if these boys wouldlike to get over to their own crowd in a hurry they could take acouple of that new squadron over for us. We are really veryshort-handed. It would help us and it might suit the boys. Itwould be quite dramatic for them to show up over there in personafter being counted as lost. How would it suit you, gentlemen?"
Both of the boys though it a splendid idea, and as the ge
neralgood-naturedly acquiesced, they went to bed early to get up at dawnand have a trial flight on the two machines which they were to pilotacross the channel.
The new machines were in fine trim, and the whole group were inFrance, at the appointed time and place in due course. The airdromewhere the squadron landed was but four hours' drive by motorcarfrom the point from which Bob and Dicky had started the flight thathad ended so strangely for them. The flight commander of the Britishersgladly sent the American lads to their own airdrome in a car, andthey arrived at dinner-time. When they walked into the headquarters'hut they had a welcome indeed, and half an hour later when they wereallowed to join their comrades in the mess building, there was ascene that none of the Brighton boys could ever forget. Feeling rantoo deep to make any of the fellows try to hide wet eyes, and lumpsin the throat made handclasps all the more firm.
Bob and Dicky were anxious to know how the rest had fared during theirabsence, but not a word would anyone of the others say until the tworeturned heroes of the mess had gone over their story in detail.
As the boys finished the recital of their adventures Joe Littleexpressed the universal feeling in the hearts of every one of theBrighton boys when he turned to Bob and Dicky, and putting a handon a shoulder of each, said soberly: "Fellows, if two of us can getout of a hole like that and get back safe and sound, we can restmighty secure in the sort of Providence that is looking after us.It is little we need to worry about what may happen to us, after all."
"You never know how lucky you can be in this world," said Bob.
"And you never want to be afraid to give your luck a fighting chance,"added Dicky.
Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps Page 11