MAGIC
Leaving the home of the Swiss toymaker, who had shared his simple fare
with them, they started southward through the deep wilderness.
Tom's idea was to keep well within the forest, but within access to its
western edge, so that they might scan the country across the river at
intervals. They were so refreshed and encouraged as they tramped through
the deep, unpeopled wilderness which they knew must bring them to the
border, and so eager to bring their long journey to an end, that they
kept on for a while in the darkness until, to their great surprise, they
came upon a sheet of water the bank of which extended as far east and
west as they could see. Tom fancied he could just distinguish the dark
trees outlined on the opposite shore.
"Let's follow the shore a ways and see if we can get round it," he said.
But a tramp along the edge, first east, then west, brought no general
turn in the shore-line and they began to wonder if the Schwarzwald
could be bisected by some majestic river.
"I don't think a river so high up would be so wide," Tom said. "If I was
sure about that being the other shore over there, we could swim across."
"It would be betterr to get around if we could," said Archer, "because
if we'rre goin' wherre people arre we don't want our uniforms all
soaked."
"I'm not going to try to find _her_, if that's what you mean," said Tom;
"not unless you say so too, anyway."
"What d'you s'pose I dived forr that glass forr?" Archer retorted.
"We're goin' to find that girrl--or perish in the attempt--like old
What's-his-name. You've got the right idea, Slady."
"It ain't an idea," said Tom soberly, "and if you think it's--kind
of--that I--that I--like her----"
"Surre it ain't, it's 'cause you hate herr," said Archer readily.
"You make me tired," said Tom, flushing.
Since they had to sleep somewhere, they decided to bivouac on the shore
of this water and take their bearings in the morning. As the night was
warm, they took off their coats and hanging them to a spreading branch
above them they sprawled upon the cushiony ground, abandoning for once
their rule of continuous watch, and were soon fast asleep. You do not
need any sleeping powders in the Black Forest, for the soft magic of its
resiny air will lull you to repose.
When they awakened in the morning they squirmed with complicated
gymnastic yawns, and lay gazing in lazy half slumber into the branches
above them. Suddenly Archer jumped to his feet.
"Wherre arre ourr coats?" he cried.
Tom sat up, rubbed his eyes and gazed about. There were no coats to be
seen.
"What d'you know about that?" said Archer. "Maybe they blew away," he
added, looking about.
"There hasn't been any wind," said Tom. "Look at that handkerchief."
Near him lay a handkerchief which Archer remembered spreading on the
ground beside him the night before.
"Well--I'll--be--jiggered," he exclaimed, looking about again in dismay.
"Somebody's been herre," he added conclusively.
Tom fell to scrutinizing the ground for footprints, but there was no
sign of any and he too gazed about him in bewilderment.
"They didn't walk away, that's sure," he said, "and they didn't blow
away either. There wasn't even a breeze."
A thorough search of the immediate locality confirmed their feeling of
certainty that the coats had not blown away. Indeed, they could not have
blown far even if there had been any wind, for the closeness of the
trees to one another would have prevented this. Tom gazed about, then
looked at his companion, utterly dumfounded.
"Maybe they blew into the waterr," Archer suggested. But Tom only shook
his head and pointed to the light handkerchief upon the ground. A mere
breath would have carried that away.
They could only stand and stare at each other. Some one had evidently
taken their coats away in the night.
"It's Gerrman efficiency, that's what it is," said Archer.
"Why didn't they take us, too?" Tom asked.
"They'll be along forr us pretty soon," Archer reassured him. "They'rre
superrmen--that's what they arre.--Maybe it's some kind of strategy,
hey? They can do spooky things, those Huns. They've got magic uniforms."
"I don't see any reason for it," said sober Tom, still looking about,
unable to conquer his amazement.
"That's just it," said Archer. "They do things therre ain't any reason
forr just to practice theirr efficiency. Pretty soon you'll see all the
allied soldierrs'll be losing their coats. Go-o-o-o-d _night_!"
"Well, I can't find any footprints, that's sure," said Tom, rather
chagrined. "I usually can."
"Maybe it was some sort of an airship," Archer suggested.
Whatever the explanation of this extraordinary thing, the coats were
gone. There were no footprints, and there had been no wind. And the
mysterious affair left the boys aghast.
"One thing sure--we'd better get away from here quick," said Tom.
"You said it! Ebeneezerr, but this place has got the Catskills and old
Rip Van Winkle beat! Come on--quick!"
Tom was not sure that one side of the water was any safer than the other
in this emergency, and he was almost too nonplussed to do anything, but
surely they were in danger, he felt, and would better be upon their way
without the loss of a minute. What troubled him not a little also was
that the precious spy-glass and the compass were with the missing coats.
They could see now that the water was a long, narrow lake the ends of
which were just discernible from the midway position along the shore
where they stood, and the opposite shore was perhaps a mile distant.
"Are you game to swim it?" Archer asked.
They felt that this would be easier than the long tramp around and that
they would have the advantage while swimming of an extended view and
would avoid any danger which might lurk behind the trees.
They had almost reached the opposite shore when Archer sputtered and
called out to Tom: "Look, look!"
Tom looked and saw, hanging from a branch on the shore they were
nearing, the two missing field gray uniform coats.
This was too much. Speechless with amazement they clambered ashore and
walked half fearfully up to their fugitive garments. There was no doubt
about it, there were the two coats dangling from a low hanging branch,
perfectly dry and in the pockets the spy-glass and the trusty compass.
The two boys stared blankly at each other.
"Well--what--do--you--know--about--that?" said Archer.
"They didn't steal anything, anyway," said Tom, half under his breath.
Archer stared at the coats, then peered cautiously about among the
trees. Then he faced Tom again, who returned his stare in mute
astonishment.
"You don't s'pose we could have swum across in ourr sleep, do you?" said
Archer.
Tom shook his head thoughtfully. Could it be that those Huns, those
fiends of the air and the ocean depths, those demons who could shoot a
gun for seventy miles and rear their yellow heads suddenly up out of the
green waters close to the American shore--could it be that they were
indeed genii--ghouls of evil, who played fast and loose with poor
wanderers in the forest until the moment came for crushing them utterly?
Or could it be that this black wilderness, perched upon its mountain
chain, was indeed the magic toyland of all creation, the home of Santa
Claus and----
"Come on," said Archer, "let's not stand herre. B'lieve _me_, I want to
get as far away from this place as we can!"