And now Hindenburg's army was on one side of these marshes and the
Russians were advancing on the other, and Hindenburg sat smiling
in his house, like a spider in its web, stroking his moustache
self-complacently. The Huns did not trouble much about the advancing
troops, for Hindenburg merely said, "Let them come," and smiled again.
The events that followed were some of the most tragic of the war.
Hindenburg watched the results of his calculations surrounded by the
_Hochgeboren_--the princes and generals of the army of the Huns. Can it
be wondered that the Duke of Brunswick, who witnessed the tragedy, has
since been reported as hopelessly insane? At the age of nine-and twenty
he was in command of the German troops at the Russian frontier, and
saw the terrible fate of the men who were swallowed up bodily in the
treacherous marshes. The cries of the victims and his own helplessness
haunted him to such an extent that it is said he lost his reason and,
from extreme violence, drifted into a deep stupor of melancholy.
Mooska Zarden was among those who witnessed the terrors of that awful
day. Finding the ground soft and muddy, the Russian engineers were sent
forward with long planks to make a roadway for the troops to pass over
the marshes, little thinking that, owing to the treacherous nature
of the ground, the black slime and ooze would soon suck down into
the bottomless mire the flower of Russian manhood, and that even the
roadway itself would be swallowed up.
The summer sun had dried the surface crust, and reeds and sedge and
aquatic plants grew and flourished exceedingly. The Russian army spread
out and entered this treacherous zone at different points, according to
the disposition of the troops and the branches of the service to which
they belonged. Mooska Zarden was riding on the flank of his troop. The
sun beat down fiercely, and it grew hazy in the distance as the heat
drew up the moisture from the marshes.
Very soon the young Cossack's horse showed signs of uneasiness and
alarm. It is wonderful how the human voice can restore confidence and
courage in an animal and allay apprehension; but self-preservation
is the strongest primitive instinct, and nothing the Cossack could
do would soothe the terror of his mount. The horses in front of them
were already snorting and whinnying their fears to each other as the
trembling brutes felt the marshy land quaking under them.
Suddenly Mooska's horse took the bit in his teeth and bolted back out
of the ranks, and bit and spur were of no avail to make him turn and
advance again. The panic-terror had come; he was fighting for his life,
for now the swamp was giving way and he was sinking at every footstep.
Behind them there was being enacted a scene that baffles description as
the treacherous quagmire began to claim its toll. The cries and shrieks
of men and beasts as they were engulfed added horror to the dreadful
situation.
Presently, realizing what was amiss, Mooska dismounted to take the
weight off his floundering horse. A discarded plank that he came across
enabled him to struggle on by pushing it in front of them, and yard
by yard man and beast fought their way to firmer ground, not daring
to stop to rest for a moment lest the delay should be fatal. By this
time the Cossack was almost exhausted, yet he floundered on with the
desperation of despair, for within view was higher ground which he
believed to be the edge of the marsh. Could he hold out till then? His
panting steed, dripping with sweat and covered with mud, was--like
himself--nearly spent, but side by side they stumbled on, with eyes
fixed in that goal which was their only hope of preservation. At last
the earth felt firmer; they were no longer sinking ankle-deep at every
step. Then the Cossack, taxed beyond his strength, fell forward on his
face, and everything became a blank to him.