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

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXVI

  At the Frontier

  A prey to the wildest apprehensions, Malcolm Carr flattened himselfon his hard, uneven bed. Rapidly he debated as to his course ofaction; whether to regain his feet and throw himself upon the twomen before they had time to recover from their surprise, or to keepperfectly still in the hope that he would be unnoticed. He couldhear Peter shifting his position, ready to join in the imminentstruggle.

  "Wer da?" shouted a guttural voice from the window of the houseacross the canal. Immediately after came the "pluff" of an air-gunbeing discharged, and a pellet thudded against a post on thetow-path.

  With muttered exclamations the two men took to their heels, whilethe watchers, leaving their post at the window, ran downstairs,presently to reappear accompanied by a large dog.

  For a moment or two they stood looking across the canal at thebarge; then, calling the animal to heel, they walked rapidly in thedirection of a bridge about a quarter of a mile away.

  "This is too hot a show for us, Malcolm," whispered Peter, as heemerged from his hiding-place. "That dog will be our undoing. Thosefellows are evidently crossing the canal to inspect the barge incase the thieves have had time to take anything."

  Clearly it was too risky to land and run across the fields; the dogwould track the fugitives with the greatest ease. The question washow they were to put the animal off the scent in the brief time thatremained before the watchmen, or whoever they might be, arrived uponthe scene.

  "You said you were thirsty," continued Peter grimly. "Now's yourchance. Overboard and hang to the rudder."

  Silently the fugitives lowered themselves into the water, and,swimming cautiously, gained the slight protection afforded by thebluff overhang of the boat's quarter and long, projecting rudder.Hanging on to a chain, and keeping in the shadow, the brothersawaited developments, knowing that if the now open entrance to theirdug-out were spotted, suspicion would be diverted from the maraudersto them. Since the news of the escape of a numerous body ofprisoners from Dueren must have been sent far and wide, the inferencethat the barge had been a hiding-place for some of their number wasobvious.

  Up came the two watchmen, breathing stentorously, for they weremiddle-aged and corpulent. They were in uniform; each was armed withan air-rifle and a short sword.

  Malcolm could hear them walking along the barge, testing the locksof the fore and after cuddies, and examining the metal fittings ofthe winch and the tiller-head. One of the men even flashed anelectric torch over the side, but it was a purely perfunctoryaction. Meanwhile the dog was sniffing on the track of the would-bethieves, and made no attempt to go farther than the spot where themen had been brought up by the canal official's hail.

  Finally, after a considerable amount of argument, the watchmenwhistled the dog, regained the tow-path, and walked briskly in thedirection the marauders had gone.

  "Peter," whispered his brother, "I'm a silly ass!"

  "Eh?"

  "I forgot about my ration when I went overboard. It's sopping wet."

  "So's mine," added Peter. "I took mine deliberately. It couldn't behelped. If we'd left the stuff on the barge that dog would havediscovered it. A packet with the word 'London' printed on it wouldgive the show away absolutely. For one thing, the stuff's beensoaking in fresh water."

  "And so have I," rejoined Malcolm. "At any rate, my thirst isquenched, and we have to spend the rest of the night in wetclothes."

  "I'm going to try my hand at house robbery," announced Peter."Although I couldn't understand all the conversation between thosetwo fellows, I managed to learn that they decided to go to thenearest village and get the police to make enquiries of thewhereabouts of a certain Karl Hoeffer--evidently one of the two menwho gave us an unpleasant five minutes. You're not to come; this isa one-man job. Make your way back to our hiding-place, wring outyour wet clothes--over the coal, mind--and wait till I come back."

  Malcolm knew that his elder brother's word was law in such matters.It was useless to expostulate. As he regained the barge he couldjust discern Peter's figure creeping up the opposite bank of thecanal.

  In ten minutes Peter was back again with the best part of a ryeloaf, a large sausage, and a piece of cheese, all wrapped up in acouple of blankets.

  "'Nuff said!" he remarked. "Wrap yourself up and eat. I'll tell youabout it later."

  The blankets were dry and comforting, the food really appetizing,and, having made a satisfying meal, the brothers slept soundly afterforty hours of unceasing vigilance.

  As Peter had expected, he experienced no serious difficulty on hisforaging expedition. The house was deserted, but by means of astack-pipe he entered by the open window at which the watchmen hadbeen sitting. Having raided the pantry, the New Zealander removed ablanket from each of two separate beds, taking care that outwardlythe beds appeared undisturbed. To cross the canal without wettingthe food and blankets he swam back with the spoils held over hishead. By the time the things were missed, the barge, with ordinaryluck, ought to be miles away.

  With the first streak of dawn the sleepers awoke, feeling greatlyrefreshed. Malcolm had taken the precaution to fill a tin with waterfrom the canal. The liquid was fresh to a certain degree, and menwho have served in the trenches are not fastidious.

  The main point was that the fugitives would be able to quench theirthirst during the heat of the day. Their wet clothes were spread outagainst the wall of their retreat, so that the heat of the sun'srays, penetrating the absorbent coal, would dry them sufficientlyfor the men before nightfall.

  Shortly after sunrise the remaining barges of the flotilla, whichhad been tied up for the night at some distance along the canal,came up and passed the solitary craft. Before her crew returned withthe horse, the previously leading barge became the last of thegroup.

  The second day passed much like the first, except that the heat wasnot so trying, and that the men in hiding did not suffer fromthirst.

  About four o'clock in the afternoon of the next day a longer haltthan usual occurred. Making use of their observation-holes thestowaways saw that the craft had tied up alongside another bargewhich was fast to a long quay. Beyond was a row of tall,quaintly-built houses with picturesque red-tiled roofs and frontedby a line of closely-trimmed trees. Nearly fifty people werelounging about, regarding the new arrival with curious interest,while on the adjoining barge stood about a dozen men in grimyoveralls, with planks, barrows, and spades, in readiness to commencework.

  Like ants the coal-heavers swarmed over the heaped-up cargo,shovelling the coal into barrows and trundling them along the plankson to the quay, whence they disappeared into a large shed about ahundred yards away.

  With feelings of satisfaction the New Zealanders saw that thefor'ard portion of the cargo was the first to be dealt with, andthat, before the man with the first load returned with his emptybarrow, five others were on the way, leaving six on board.

  "No use waiting to be dug out," whispered Peter. "Now's our chance,if at all."

  With a mighty heave of his shoulders Peter sent the barrel stavesand their superimposed covering of coal flying. Before thecoal-heavers could grasp what was happening, the two men leaptacross the intervening barge and gained the quay.

  With lowered heads they charged straight for the nearmost of thewaterside idlers.

  Right and left scattered the dumbfounded spectators, and without anyattempt at obstruction the fugitives gained the open andunfrequented part of the quay.

  Not until they had put fifty yards between them and the barge didthe onlookers grasp the situation, then, joined by the coal-heavers,who had abandoned their task, the whole crowd started in pursuit,yelling loudly in an unintelligible manner.

  At the end of the quay the main street bore off to the left, andfrom that point there were houses on both sides. Those on the righthad gardens of gradually-increasing length running down to thecanal, which was here a considerably wide waterway. Everywhere alongthe canal wharves were barges, often double- and triple-tiered, butalongside
the waterside edges of the gardens were several smallpleasure-craft. Every house seemed to possess one. Another thingPeter noticed was that the nearmost of the houses on the canal sideof the street was separated from the quay by a supplementarywaterway that burrowed under the road.

  Along the cobbled street the two men ran, Passers-by stoodstock-still in amazement. A grey-coated policeman drew his sabre andattempted to bar the way, shouting peremptorily in a manner thatclearly indicated "Stop!"

  "In here!" exclaimed Peter, and literally bundled his brother intoan open doorway, then slammed and bolted the door.

  "We've five minutes fresh start at least," he said hurriedly. "Comealong through. There's a boat at the end of the garden."

  Even as they made their way through a spotlessly-clean kitchen, tothe consternation of a portly woman-servant, Malcolm could not helpnoticing the resplendant copper vessels on the shelves. Evidentlythe owner of the house had not conformed to the Imperial GermanGovernment's order to surrender all metal suitable for themanufacture of munitions.

  At the farther part of the garden two men were sitting at a table.One was a rotund pleasant-faced man of about fifty who was puffingsedately at a long-stemmed, huge-bowled pipe. The other, holding alarge cigar in his hand, was certainly not far off sixty years ofage, clean-shaven, 'and dressed in a manner more like an Englishmanthan a German. Before the smokers could rise from their seats thetwo fugitives were past and dropping over the low wall into a boat.

  "Push off, Malcolm!" shouted Peter, as he gripped the oars.

  "What's your hurry, you fellows?" asked a deliberately cool voicefrom above. "Can't you behave yourselves in a neutral country?What's the trouble?"

  Leaning on the wall, his grey eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth,was the elder of the two men who had been sitting in the garden. Athis elbow was the other, gesticulating and protesting volubly at thebull-in-a-chinashop tactics of the intruders.

  "Neutral country?" repeated the astounded Peter. "What do you mean?Where are we?"

  "In Holland. To be more precise, in the town of Roermonde," was thesurprising information. "You've done a bunk from Germany, I presume?I thought so. It's all right, Mynheer van Enkhuizen," he continuedin English, addressing the Dutchman; "these are some of mycompatriots who have escaped from Germany."

  "In that case it does matter not at all," replied the owner of thehouse in the slow hesitating manner of foreign-spoken English. "Itis of no consequence that your friends have trampled through mydwelling and over my garden. Excuse me. I will inform the noisycrowd also that it is not of any consequence, and then I willinstruct Katje to provide food for your military friends."

  "Come into the house," exclaimed the Englishman. "I'll hear yourstory presently, although I presume you are two of the men who gotaway from Dueren. Eight of them have crossed the frontier up to thepresent, and I shouldn't be surprised if others do the same in thecourse of the next few days. My name? Oh, just Brown--of London!Yes, that will be all right. Von Enkhuizen, although his manner mayseem a bit erratic according to British notions, is a genuinelysympathetic fellow. You've fallen on your feet, both of you."

  For three days the two refugees enjoyed the Dutchman's hospitality.Then the Carrs were furnished with money and a ticket to enable themto travel via the Hook of Holland to England; and, with many earnestexpressions of gratitude to their benefactors, Peter and Malcolm setout on their roundabout journey back to the firing-line in Flanders.