From Kite Balloon to Saddle
The two occupants clung to the side of the padded basket, from which it
was a marvel they had not been flung by the sudden upward rush of the
huge sausage-shaped envelope above their heads.
The observer's face was very white, but he pulled himself together
pluckily enough, and took the now useless receivers from his ears.
"I'm awfully sorry to have got you into this mess, old man," he said
apologetically.
"It isn't a bit of use being sorry," snapped Dennis. "Get a move on you!
What's the best thing to be done?"
The sharp anger in his companion's voice acted like a tonic, and the
observation officer pulled a cord.
"I don't think it's an atom of good, for all that," he volunteered
doubtfully. "It's a thousand chances to one, with this breeze, that we
shall drop on our side of the fence, and those blessed guns of theirs
have got us set. Look at that!"
A shrapnel burst above them, and as its fleecy white cloud unrolled
there were two more bursts, one immediately below, which carried away
the parachute, the other about eighty yards to the left.
"Beggars who fire on the wounded are not likely to miss such a target as
we make, although it must be perfectly clear to them that we're coming
down," said the youngster between his teeth.
"And suppose they hit us?" questioned Dennis.
"Why, we'll burst, that's all, and descend in flames, with death at the
end of the drop and no glory attached to it."
"I wish you'd been in Jerusalem before you asked me to come on this
fool's errand!" exclaimed Dennis.
"I shouldn't mind being in Jerusalem just now," said his companion; and
somehow they both laughed.
The valve at the nose of the sausage was releasing hydrogen, and the
kite balloon dropped slowly as the envelope became deflated. But the
wind increased, and already Dennis saw through his glasses the chateau
and the wood pass under them.
"I'd half a hope," he said gloomily, "that we might have come to ground
near that house. My battalion's there; we took the blooming place last
night."
Luckily the wind buffeted them in an irregular course, and the shrapnel
flew wide. Seven shells in all were fired at them, and then, ammunition
being precious to the enemy, word was evidently given to cease.
It was no use wasting any more on an object whose capture was certain in
a few minutes; and lower and lower they dropped, until the observer
slackened his pull on the valve cord.
"We may as well save our necks," he interjected over his shoulder. "I
wonder if we shall clear that wood?"
Below them stretched a great irregular patch of trees, through which
alleys had been torn by our own guns, although much of the wood was
still standing, and already a hoarse roar of voices came up to their
ears as the enemy lining a trench cheered their misfortune.
"We're dropping right into the trees," said Dennis. "Can't we do
anything? Are there no means of guiding this brute?"
"None at all," was the reply. "We're entirely at the mercy of the wind;
and look out if our cable catches, that's all--unless you want to be
jerked into eternity."
They were both peering down over the edge of the basket as he spoke, and
the shouting Germans underneath loosed a volley at the derelict.
Dennis heard the envelope tear in fifty places, and their pace lessened
perceptibly; and then it seemed to him that his companion threw himself
on to the floor of the basket, and he looked at him.
A little red rivulet was flowing from a round hole in the centre of his
forehead, and he realised that the lieutenant had been killed
instantaneously!
It was a moment or two before he ventured to look down again, and,
peeping cautiously over the edge of the car as the cheering became very
distinct, he saw the enemy trench pass out of sight beneath him, and
felt the basket tearing its way among the topmost branches of the wood.
Something had got to be done, he knew; and as the top of a tall tree
rose above the level of his eyes, and the doomed balloon paused with a
sickening jerk, he grasped at a branch, flung himself out, and dangled
there.
Relieved of his weight, the balloon, almost on the point of collapsing,
dragged itself free of the twigs that held it with a last effort, and
floated away to drop on the other side of the wood.
He could hear the excited clamour as men left the trench and ran towards
it; and even in the midst of his extraordinary peril he was fired with a
wild desire to escape.
His manoeuvre had not been seen, and, lowering himself rapidly hand
under hand, he gained the foot of the tree which had proved his
salvation, torn and bleeding, but with every nerve of mind and body on
the alert.
"They've not got me yet!" he muttered, as he looked about him; and,
crawling on hands and knees, crept under the trunk of a fallen tree half
a dozen yards away, where he lay down flat on his face.
The very ground beneath him seemed to shake with every discharge, and
the roar of the firing was continuous. Not only were both sides flinging
a terrific barrage to check the arrival of reinforcements, but half a
dozen isolated actions were taking place at various points of the
extended battle line. From Trones Wood to Contalmaison Villa heavy
fighting was in progress, and Dennis raged inwardly that by his own
fault he should have neither act nor part in any of it.
Presently, as he lay with his ear to the ground, he caught another sound
much nearer than that of the firing--the thud of men running in heavy
boots in his vicinity; and, worming himself still deeper among the
undergrowth that surrounded the fallen tree, he drew his Webley revolver
and waited.
About a dozen of the enemy came past the tree on either side of it,
peering this way and that, and stirring such brushwood as remained with
their fixed bayonets.
"Pooh!" said one of them, "this is a fool's quest. What is the good of
looking for a man who has got a broken neck by this time?"
"What is the good of the war, I should like to know?" replied one of his
companions. "For my part, I am so sick of this terrible life that I
would willingly surrender."
"You had better not let our captain hear you talk like that, or you will
be shot, my friend," said another of them; "though I dare say, if we
were honest, two-thirds of the battalion would agree with you. But it is
very certain the Englishman is not here, and the sooner we get back the
better."
They passed on; and as the crackle of their going among the bushes died
away quickly, Dennis drew a deep breath of relief. He had no idea where
he was, for the whole of that rolling country was dotted with irregular
patches of woodland, his map case was gone, and the balloon had drifted
considerably to the east before it fell.
He knew it would be wiser for him to wait until nightfall and take
advantage of the moonlight; but the desire to rejoin his men was too
strong to be resisted; and after cautiously peering over the undergrowth
he crept from his concealment, and dodged from bush to bush until he
reached the edge of the wood.
There the hum of voices warned him that he was only a few yards from the
parados of an enemy trench--and not a very deep one at that--for as he
parted the brambles behind which he cowered, he could see the round
forage caps and shaven heads in front of him.
For an hour he lay there, watching and listening, hoping against hope
that our fellows would deliver a frontal attack on the trench, which was
thinly held.
Once, indeed, the alarm was given; the enemy manned the fire-step, and
the machine-gunners were on the _qui vive_; but after a while the
threatened danger had evidently passed, for they stood down again,
greatly relieved.
Every now and then a British shell burst in the wood behind him, tearing
off branches and great strips of bark, and bringing the slender trees
down with a crash.
"This won't do, Dennis Dashwood, my friend," he murmured. "The way is
barred here. Let us see how far their trench extends. I'll swear that
was a British cheer on the left." And he crawled back again deeper into
the trees, whose shadows were now falling in long lines as the afternoon
waned.
Taking his bearings, he worked his way from shell hole to shell hole,
now passing through a belt of timber comparatively unscathed, now
encountering a stretch that had been heavily shelled, where the trees
seemed to stand on their heads with their roots in the air.
Always keeping his eyes on the sky, across which the clouds were
drifting, he suddenly found himself on the edge of a rolling strip of
open country sloping gradually down in what he imagined to be the
direction of the British line; but to attempt to cross it would have
been suicidal, for a rain of German shells burst furiously among the
neglected fields.
The wood, straggling out still eastward, seemed to indicate the route
he must follow; and, without knowing it, he crossed the identical road
our troops had taken earlier in the day when they went up to the capture
of Bazentin village.
If he could only pass the limit of the German barrage he had an idea
that he would find himself among friends before long; and he was right,
although the manner of his meeting them was very unexpected.
He paused as the trees suddenly came to an end, and was astonished to
see a riderless horse trotting towards him. His astonishment increased
as he recognised the saddlery to be British. There was no other living
creature in sight. A waving wheatfield, among which some scarlet poppies
were growing, marked the skyline, beyond which the ground fell away, and
far off in the distance across the wheat was the top of another wood.
"That's a trooper's mount if ever I saw one," said Dennis. And as the
mare, with nostrils distended and ears set forward, neighed loudly, he
jumped out of his concealment and caught her rein.
"Whoa, little lady--steady!" he said soothingly. "Ah, if you could only
speak, and tell me where you have come from!"
He had some difficulty in bringing her to a stand, for she was quivering
from the effects of recent alarm; and he saw a red smear on the leather
wallets, and the saddle flap on the near side had been cut by a bullet.
As he placed his foot in the stirrup and swung himself up, rifle fire
suddenly opened from somewhere beyond the ridge of the wheat. He was
down again in an instant, and leading the mare cautiously forward
through the corn.
Craning his neck above the waving grain, he saw the white line of a
trench farther down the slope, and beyond it, retiring at a hand gallop,
a row of brown dots in extended order, which he knew to be British
cavalry!
A glance had shown him that there was a machine-gun in the trench, and
his course was clear now. He must warn the horsemen if they did not know
it already; and, turning the mare, he led her back out of sight of the
enemy and, mounting, rode off in a wide detour before he put her to top
speed across the open.
The sergeant who had ridden her was lying on his back at the edge of the
cornfield, and the greyness of his face told that he was dead.
"Now, my beauty!" he cried, with a squeeze of his knees. And away he
dashed, taking a barbed wire entanglement like a bird, and coming up
with a little bunch of horsemen re-forming in a hollow.
They were Dragoon Guards, and with them was a detachment of the Deccan
Horse, whose lance-points and steel helmets twinkled in the sunshine,
with here and there a turban among them.
Horses and men betrayed their eagerness, for it was the first time since
the dark days of 1914 that the cavalry had had their chance.
"Hallo, sir! Who are you?" was their commander's greeting, as Dennis
reined up beside him.
"Lieutenant Dashwood, of the Reedshires, sir--just escaped from the
German lines, thanks to the mare which I found running wild up yonder. I
want to report a machine-gun in the corn up there."
[Illustration: "Nothing could check the victorious rush"]
"The dickens you do!" was the response; and the officer glanced at his
men.
Every eye was turned upon him, and the horses were pawing impatiently,
shaking the foam from their bits.
"It would be cruelty to animals to disappoint my chaps," he said, with
an odd laugh. "This is our day out, you know, and we've waited a tidy
while for it." And, raising his voice, he cried: "Come on, men! Slap
through 'em--and hang the consequences!"
A rapturous shout greeted his words, and the lance-points came down.
The next moment Dennis found himself galloping beside the leader through
the green corn-stalks. Grey figures sprang up in front; someone made a
prod at him with a bayonet and missed. Mausers cracked out and a
machine-gun began to bark, while here and there little knots of the
enemy pressed in close together and prepared to receive cavalry, others
flinging up their arms, crying: "Pity, Kamerad!"
But nothing could check the victorious rush.
When his revolver was empty, Dennis drew the sword attached to the
saddle, and though he could not distinctly remember what happened, he
saw that the blade was red from point to forte, when a parapet stopped
the charge, and voices shouted "Retire!"
They streamed back in any sort of order, laughing like schoolboys; and
though a few saddles had been emptied, they carried thirty-two prisoners
with them--men whose courage had failed at the sight of their glittering
lance-points, with the driving force of the galloping steeds behind
them.
It had been short and sharp, perhaps a little foolish, but it had been a
charge in the old style, and no one minded a cut or a slash when the
squadron sergeant-majors formed them up again in the hollow from which
they had started.
"Great, eh?" said their leader, binding a silk handkerchief round his
wrist.
"Yes, I think it was worth it," laughed Dennis, tying the knots for him.
"I should rather think it was. Didn't some poet Johnny say something
about 'one crowded hour of glorious life'? And by gad, boy, if you only
knew how we've been eating our hearts out to get a show! Now you can do
as you like, but we're going to work up along that wood over yonder.
That's Delville Wood, you know. You're miles from your crush."
"Then I'll come with you if I may," responded Dennis, as the line opened
out and pushed slowly forward on reconnaissance.
They had not gone very far when machine-guns on their front suddenly
opened, and this time the leader deemed discretion the better part of
valour. Besides, an aeroplane flying very low came over their heads, and
for some minutes they were uncertain whether it was an enemy craft or
no, until it swooped above the hidden enemy among the corn and opened
fire upon them.
"By Jupiter, that's a good plucked 'un!" said the squadron commander, as
the airman swooped for the fourth time before he flew away unscathed.
But out of the ragged volley which the panic-stricken enemy fired at the
plane one ball found its billet in the neck of Dennis's mare, and with
a squeal and a bound that almost unseated him she tore madly northwards,
in spite of all his efforts to stay her.
In vain he hauled on the bit reins; the maddened creature was beyond all
human control. The shout of warning from the men behind him died away.
The trampled wood and the shell-torn grassland merged into a confused
carpet of greeny white beneath him. She took an empty trench in her
stride without checking perceptibly, until a crater yawned before them,
into which she plunged, tried gamely to keep her feet, and finally
rolled over and over to the bottom, flinging her rider clear as she fell
dead.