A Lively Bit of the Front: A Tale of the New Zealand Rifles on the Western Front

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXV

  On the Barge

  Pulling himself up just in time, Malcolm turned and looked again atthe gap in the rushes as the two men emerged cautiously and crepttowards the barge.

  "It's Spud Murphy and Joe Jennings!" he exclaimed.

  "Right you are, chum," replied the latter. "Thought as 'ow we werethe farthest west of our little crush. You've been mighty nippy,mates. What's your move?"

  "We've constructed a dug-out," replied Peter, pointing to theconcealed lair, of which only the narrow entrance was visible.

  "An' good luck to ye," rejoined the Irishman. "Faith we'll not befor keepin' ye company for long. Sure, a bargain's a bargain; butwe'll jist be havin'a few wurrds wid yez before we carry on."

  "You can try your luck with us," said Peter.

  "Och, no!" replied Murphy. "Four's jist two too many. Will you haveseen any of the bhoys?"

  "Not a sign after we separated," answered the elder Carr. "Haveyou?"

  "Only the Sargint, just about an hour ago," replied PrivateJennings. "He'd lost touch with his chum an' was limpin' along. It'smy belief he copped it from a splinter of a bomb. Anyway 'e wouldn'town up to it, and choked us off when we offered to give 'im a 'and.'Ow much farther to the blinkin' frontier, Digger? It can't be muchmore, can it?"

  Neither of the New Zealanders could give a definite reply, but, tocheer the men up, Peter expressed his opinion that another thirtymiles would see them in Dutch territory.

  "An' then it won't be long afore I'm in Blighty again," continuedJennings hopefully. "Three long measly years since I saw an Englishgirl. Honest, I'll go down on me blinkin' knees an' kiss the shoe ofthe first girl I meet in Blighty, even if she's got a face like amuddy duck-board."

  "You're speaking metaphorically, I take it," remarked Peter.

  "I met a who?" enquired Private Jennings. "Lumme, I don't want tomeet nobody while I'm on blinkin' German soil. Come on, Spud, let'sbe shiftin'. S'long, chums, an' good luck!"

  As a matter of fact, the two fugitives, when they arrived at thecanal bank, intended to hide themselves in a similar manner to thatdecided upon by Peter and Malcolm Carr. Finding themselvesforestalled, their simple yet steadfast code of honour would notpermit them to remain. The decision made at Dueren Camp, that theescaping men should separate in pairs, was to be rigidly adhered to.

  The New Zealanders realized the fact, and that it would be uselessto renew their offer that the four should seek a commonhiding-place.

  "_Kia ora_, boys!" exclaimed Peter.

  "And may we meet across the frontier!" added Malcolm.

  Noiselessly the two Tommies lowered themselves into the water andswam with long steady strokes to the opposite bank. Creeping onall-fours across the tow-path, they vanished in the tall grassbeyond.

  "Jolly good sorts," declared Peter. "Come on, Malcolm; it's time wewent to roost."

  It was indeed. The daylight was rapidly increasing in strength. Themist was rolling away under the influence of a faint easterlybreeze. Somewhere in the neighbourhood of the lock-keeper's cottagecocks were crowing lustily.

  Malcolm backed into the coal-screened lean-to shelter; his brotherfollowed, and, having deposited his bulky carcass in the hollow,began to pile lumps of coal over the entrance.

  "Thank goodness they didn't whitewash the coal!" he remarked.

  "Why whitewash?" asked his brother curiously.

  "To stop thefts," was the reply. "I wondered what the idea was whenI saw whitewashed stacks of coal in various railway sidings inEngland, so I enquired. A thief couldn't disturb the heap withoutleaving a tell-tale black gap in the whitened level of the stack.How about grub? I'm feeling hungry."

  "And so am I," admitted Malcolm. "We're rationed on a four-daysbasis, aren't we?" The meal consisted of a Plasmon biscuit, a smallbar of chocolate, and a slice of potato bread. The brothers ate insilence, their ears strained to catch the first sound of thereturning bargees.

  "We ought to have provided ourselves with water," whispered Peter."We never bargained for being cooped up here, otherwise I would havebrought a tin."

  "I'm not thirsty," said Malcolm, "but isn't it cold?"

  "Rather!" admitted Peter with conviction. "It's early morning yet,and the coal has lost its heat by radiation. Before midday we'll behot enough, I fancy, with the sun pouring down upon our black roof.Hist! Footsteps!"

  The sounds of heavily-shod feet crunching on the dew-soddened graveldrew nearer and nearer. Then voices could be distinguished. "Women!"whispered Malcolm.

  The New Zealanders listened intently. The sound of footsteps ceased,although the voluble conversation continued. Then the thuddingfoot-falls drew nearer, while the unmistakable sound of a coil ofrope being thrown upon the deck of one of the other barges washeard.

  The clamour drew closer. Supposedly the string of barges was"manned" by women, the diminishing group halting at each barge toprolong the conversation before the crews boarded their respectiveboats, until, by the clatter almost overhead, the fugitives knewthat the last barge had received its complement--two, perhaps three,buxom and stolid German women.

  Malcolm could hear the padlock to the cabin hatch being unlocked.Pails clattered, water sluiced along the diminutive after deck.Despite the dirty nature of the cargo, the crew were makingdetermined efforts to keep the deck and Cuddy clean. Wood crackledin the cabin stove, smoke wafted for'ard, wisps eddying into thefugitives' hiding-place. Then came the appetizing odour of fryingsausages.

  An hour passed; still no indication that the barges were starting ontheir daily journey. Two boats, however, passed, proceeding in theopposite direction, each drawn by a horse. Malcolm could hear thelap of the water against the bows. That was a fairly sureindication, taking into consideration the direction of the wind,that the barges were going eastwards. With a following wind theripples would be absent, or, at least, hardly perceptible.

  As each barge passed there was a lively exchange of greetingsbetween their crews and those of the stationary boats; but, in spiteof the fact that the Carrs had picked up several German words duringtheir period of captivity, the hidden listeners were unable tounderstand the conversation, beyond the knowledge that it referredlargely to the air raid of the previous night.

  Then a steam-propelled craft came up, fussily and noisily. Abreastof the foremost barge she reversed engines and manoeuvred until aheavy bump, followed by the groaning of rope fenders between the twocraft, announced that the tug--for such was her role--as alongside.

  "I hope they won't want to take in coal," thought Malcolm.

  Moments of suspense followed, but there was no attempt on the partof the men comprising the tug's crew to remove any portion of thebarge's cargo. Judging by the sounds, they were preparing to takethe string of barges in tow, for Malcolm could hear a heavy hawserbeing dragged along the barge's waterways and made fast to thetowing-bitts a few feet from the bows.

  The engine-room telegraph-bell clanged. With the water hissing underher stern the tug forged ahead. Then, with a jerk, as the hawsertook up the strain, the barge began to glide through the water. Thenanother jerk announced that barge No. 2 had started; another andanother, until the cumbersome flotilla was in motion.

  Already, cramped in their close quarters, the New Zealanders werebeginning to feel the effects of the heat, as Peter had predicted.Overhead the hot sun poured pitilessly down upon the absorbent coal.The air in the confined space was hot and stuffy. Their throatsburned with a torturing thirst--and the day was not more than sevenhours old.

  At irregular intervals the barges had to be passed through locks,and since the locks admitted only two boats at a time, and thehawser had to be cast off before the gate opened and secured againwhen the lower level was reached, progress was tediously slow.

  Bridges, too, caused delays, for, in spite of vigorous blasts of thetug's fog-horn, the persons in charge displayed no great activity inmanning the winches by which the obstructions were swung.

  Early in the afternoon the flotilla approached a lar
ge town. The humof industrialism was plainly audible to the two fugitives. Thebarges were constantly bumping into craft either tied up to thequays or proceeding in the opposite direction. There were swarms ofmischievous boys on the banks, whose sole amusement seemed to bethrowing stones at the irate bargees, until one of the women grew sofurious that she leapt upon the coal that screened the NewZealanders' retreat, and picking up fragments hurled them at hertormentors.

  It was another period of great anxiety. The barrel-staves creakedunder the weight of the bulky German woman. Some of the lumps beganto shift, while particles of coal dust, filtering through theinterstices, floated in the already-stifling air, causing intenseirritation to the fugitives' eyes and throats.

  With feelings of profound relief the New Zealanders heard the womanstriding back to her place beside the long tiller, while the nextmoment the already-gloomy dug-out was plunged into profounddarkness.

  The barge was entering a tunnel--one of several by which the canalwas led underneath the town. Malcolm welcomed this new phase of thevoyage in inland waters. The air was comparatively cool, a pleasingrelief from the hot sunshine in the open; but before long thedisadvantages of the tunnel made themselves apparent.

  The din was terrific. The sound of the grunting and groaning of thetug's noisy engine was magnified tenfold, echoing and re-echoingalong the domed expanse, while clouds of sulphurous smoke permeatedeverything. Yet, the while, there was the comforting thought that,unless the general direction of the canal had changed, everyrevolution of the tug's propellers was bearing the fugitives nearerthe frontier and freedom.

  On emerging from the tunnel the string of barges stopped alongside awharf. The tug, its mission accomplished, cast off and steamed away.

  Malcolm felt anxious. Was this basin in the heart of a populous townto be the journey's end for the flotilla? If so, the brothers werein a very tight corner indeed.

  Peter, too, was sharing in Malcolm's unspoken thoughts. More so whenan unmistakably military command was issued at a few feet distant.

  Peering through a gap in the barrier of lumps of coal the NewZealanders saw a corporal and three men armed with rifles standingon the wharf, with a crowd of interested spectators lounging in thebackground. Did it mean that the Huns had a suspicion that some ofthe escaped prisoners from Dueren Camp had found a refuge on one ofthe barges?

  Another order, and the soldiers stepped on board. The metal butts ofthe rifles clattered on the planks, and a spirited conversationensued between the corporal--occasionally aided by his men--and thethree women comprising the barge's crew.

  During the conversation a lean and decrepit horse, led by a boy ofabout ten or eleven years of age, arrived at the wharf. In aleisurely manner one of the crew went forward and threw a rope, theend of which was fastened to the animal's traces. Most of this theNew Zealanders could not see; while presently they heard thewretched beast's hoofs slipping on the cobbles as the barge slowlygathered way.

  Although the soldiers remained on board, the Carrs' fears were notfully confirmed. The barge was about to enter another tunnel thathappened to pass directly under a large and important munitionsfactory. With characteristic caution and forethought the Huns leftnothing undone to safeguard their proceedings; hence, in the case ofbarges using the subterranean waterway, a corporal's guard wasplaced upon each during the journey through the tunnel.

  Contrary to the New Zealanders' expectations, the barge, beyondstopping to land the guard, did not tie up for the night within thelimits of the town; but, maintaining a two-miles-an-hour pace, heldon until the lengthening shadows announced the close of another day.

  Having made all secure, the women bargees left the boat. The soundof the led horse's hoofs grew fainter and fainter, until silencereigned supreme.

  "How about it?" whispered Malcolm. "My throat is like a chunk of hotlava. If I don't get a drink of water I'll go dilly!"

  "Wait till it's dark," suggested the cautious Peter. "If we removethe coal from the mouth of our hiding-place, and someone driftspast, there'll be trouble."

  Peering through a narrow gap between the large lumps of coal, Petermade the discovery that the tow-path against which the barge lay wasclear, and apparently right out in the country and free from thepresence of buildings. The fact puzzled him. Why on two consecutivenights the barge should choose a berth far from a town or villagerequired a lot of explanation. He could only suggest that the womenmanning the boat took care to avoid Populous districts, so that theycould go ashore without exposing the cargo to the predatoryactivities of the war-tried inhabitants.

  "Time!" whispered Peter at length.

  Deftly the brothers set to work to remove the barrier, although oncea large mass of coal slid noisily against the wooden bulkhead. Whenthe opening was sufficiently enlarged, Malcolm crept cautiously outinto the open, only to throw himself flat on his face.

  The canal bank visible from the New Zealanders' shelter wasdeserted, but on the opposite side of the waterway was a largethree-storied, red-tiled house. At one of the open windows sat twomen smoking long, bent-stemmed pipes. From their elevated situationthey could command the whole of the exposed surface of the barge'scargo. The wonder was that the sight of Malcolm's head and shouldersemerging from the hole had escaped their notice.

  Quick to perceive that something was amiss, Peter forbore toquestion his brother. In deep suspense Malcolm lay with his faceflattened against the coal, scarce daring to move a muscle, andfervently expressing a wish that the night would speedily growdarker than it was.

  A quarter of an hour passed. Judging by the persistence with whichthe two smokers stuck to their seats by the open window, Malcolmfelt certain that they had a special interest in the barge and itscontents.

  Presently Malcolm felt himself in a cold sweat, for the sound ofapproaching footsteps came from the tow-path. Although thenew-comers trod stealthily, the stillness of the air and theconducting properties of the calm water carried the sound of theirfootfalls with disconcerting clearness.

  Opposite the boat the footsteps ceased. The people, whoever theywere, were intent upon something on the barge. Then, leaping lightlyupon the waterways, the men, as they proved to be, crept softly afttowards the place where Malcolm lay in the starlight.