THE BATTLE
They had not gone more than a hundred yards when a wild outburst of
shouting behind them told them that their flight had been discovered.
At least there seemed to be no reason for the people in Hannay to raise
such a din. And the cries showed them, too, that they were being
pursued. But such a pursuit did not frighten them. They had taken to
the fields almost at once, deserting the road, and with such a start as
they had it was practically impossible for them to be overtaken,
especially by such stupid pursuers as Raymond and his men.
So, before they had gone any great distance toward the sounds of
firing, which had now increased to a point that showed that they were
in the neighborhood of something very like a pitched battle, a general
engagement, they slowed down to a walk and waited to see what would
happen. In the road the pursuit stormed past them, but that did not
last long. In a few minutes they heard the voices of the returning
villagers, who had evidently decided that to keep on was too likely to
bring them into the field of operations.
And so for the time at least, the two scouts were free and safe.
"Thank heaven that's over!" said Arthur. "Paul, I never was so
frightened in my life! It seems to me that we were really between the
devil and the deep blue sea back there!"
"We certainly were!" said Paul, with a laugh. "The Belgians thought we
sided with the Germans, and the Germans knew we didn't! I suppose it
was foolish to defy them like that, but I couldn't do anything else."
"I should hope not!" said Arthur. "And I don't think it was foolish at
all--and neither do you, really, Paul. Perhaps they will find out, if
a few more things like that happen, that it won't be so easy to conquer
Belgium as they think, even if we are only a little bit of a country!"
"What I'm wondering is what we'd better try to do next," said Paul,
thoughtfully. "That sounds like a real battle in front of us, Arthur.
The firing is getting heavier all the time, and on both sides, I think,
as if more and more troops were being brought up. You see, we haven't
any idea at all of what's going on, except just where we've happened to
be. We haven't had any news since the Germans caught us the first
time."
"Can't we get to the Belgian lines?"
"We can try, of course. We must bear well to the west, which will
bring us behind the skirmish lines. I think the place for us to try to
reach now is Tirlemont. There must be a sort of headquarters there, I
think, because it's on the railway, and any railway is important in
time of war. Yes, I believe that's where these troops must have come
from. They could be brought there from all over Belgium, you see, and
sent out to try to check the German advance."
They could follow the line of the battle readily now, for the firing
was heavy and well marked, showing that the line along which the
fighting was going on was five or six miles long. The bursting shells,
too, dotting the darkness with patches of light every few seconds,
marked out the battle line, so that they could lay their course to get
away from it. Both of them understood the need of doing that; it was
now their business to get to some superior officers as quickly as
possible with the valuable information they possessed about the German
movements, though of course each hour of delay made it less likely that
that information would be of any value. And on the firing line, if
they were lucky enough to escape being shot, they would find no
superior officers in any case, but only men charged with the duty of
looking after their small, individual tasks, and too busy to pay any
attention to them. It was the staff headquarters they wanted to reach.
And then, while they were going on as fast as they could, over the
stubble of the fields, there was a sudden shifting of the lines in
front of them. Immediately before them the firing was almost doubled
in violence, but on one side only. Apparently some heavier guns had
been brought up by the Germans, and they saw that a terrific fire was
being directed at the higher ground whence the flashes of the Belgian
guns had been coming. One by one these guns were silenced, and then
the bursting shells began to search out the ground in front of the
Belgian artillery. Paul cried out in dismay.
"What is it? What's the matter?" asked Arthur.
"I'm afraid it's going badly for us there," said Paul, gloomily. "Do
you see, they've put our guns out of business! Now they are sending
their shells right where our men must be massed. I don't believe any
troops can stand their ground long under such a fire as that."
"They're still there--they're still answering, Paul!"
"Yes, but listen!"
Even above the roar of the battle now they could hear sounds of
cheering. And, on one side, much of the lighter rifle fire now died
away.
"The Germans are advancing! It must be a charge against our men. And
they can't have had time to intrench!" said Paul. "Look! Didn't I
tell you so?"
It was almost as if they had been able to see. They could follow the
bending of the Belgian line as it gave way before the furious advance.
The artillery firing on the German side--on the German left wing, that
is, and the Belgian right--ceased. And then, nearly half a mile beyond
where it had been before, the rifle fire broke out again.
"There, can you tell what has happened?" asked Paul. "They've turned
our wing--they must have rushed a lot of troops this way. We're
holding them well enough on the other side and in the centre, but our
men will have to retire very soon. It's awfully bad for us, because
now the Germans are between us and Tirlemont, and I don't see how we
can get around them, because they will keep spreading out, no matter
how far we go," keen disappointment in his voice.
"I don't see how you can tell that from here, Paul!"
"Watch the flashes from the guns nearest us--those are the Germans,
now. The rifles, I mean--do you see, there? They're firing pretty
regularly, and the flashes are very close together. They haven't
spread out much. When they're firing, it looks as if a whole lot of
lightning bugs were flashing all at once, and it makes a line along the
ground. That's a curved line, now. A few minutes ago it was straight."
And now the German batteries opened up again on their left flank, and
they were firing from a position that had been moved considerably
westward since they had ceased firing after the infantry had begun
pushing back the Belgian line. That was the most significant thing.
These batteries had now evidently taken up a position that, at the
beginning of the fight, had been held either by the most advanced of
the German skirmishers or by the Belgians themselves. The German
policy of concentrating the attack at one spot, which has been the
policy of great generals throughout all history, had worked well for
them again.
But it was not the result of this fight, which could hardly be of
really great importance whatever happened, that bothered Paul. It was
the fact that by this sudden sweep of the German left he and Paul were
again in the enemy's country, and almost hopelessly cut off from
reaching the Belgian lines. For a moment he was almost ready to give
up in despair. But that was not his style at all, and he soon
recovered his spirits.
"There's no use in sitting here and wishing that things were
different," he said, at last. "Come on! Let's get back to the road!
If we can't go behind our own lines, let's go behind the Germans, and
see how far we can get. They may be too busy to pay much attention to
us, anyhow. Oh, I wish we had some way of getting around except by
walking! We're losing all this time. That's what is going to ruin
everything for us, just when it seemed that we had a chance to do
something."
They got back to the road from which they had turned to avoid the
enraged peasants of Hannay, and went along mournfully. Once they heard
a loud crackling, and dodged immediately into the shelter of the hedge
along the road. A German soldier, mounted on a powerful motorcycle,
sped by; but he went so fast that they might have stayed in the road
without attracting his attention. He came from behind them, from the
direction of Hannay, and Paul groaned as they went out into the road
again.
"They must be in force in that direction, too," he said. "That shows
that it probably wouldn't have done us much good to go back around
Hannay to try to strike another road. We would only have run into a
lot more Germans, I suppose, if we had."
"There seem to be Germans everywhere," said Arthur. "How can there be
so many of them?"
"That is the way they go to war. It is their plan always to have more
men than the enemy. It is a good way, too. A thousand brave men
cannot beat five thousand, no matter how brave they are. The weight of
numbers has won many a battle."
"Listen," said Arthur. "Do you hear that? It sounds as if another
motorcycle might be coming from behind us."
They were climbing a stiff little grade, and were near the top. Paul
stopped, and listened.
"No," he said. "That's not a motorcycle, but an automobile. I
wonder--" He stopped and thought for a moment. "It's still half a
mile or so away. It's worth trying! It would be a chance! And it can
do no harm. Arthur, do you remember how we stopped their motorcycle
when those two officers were chasing us after we had escaped from the
house where they had hidden the guns and the shells?"
"Yes!" Arthur saw the idea at once. "We haven't any glass--but if we
could find some sharp pointed stones?"
"Quick! Let's look!"
They were lucky. They found something better than stones--for in the
field right beside the road they discovered a veritable treasure, a
pile of horseshoes, rusty and worn, that had been piled up there
evidently by some farmer, against the time when he should decide to
carry them all to the blacksmith to be used again. In some nails still
projected; all of them, at any rate, had some sharp points. They
worked frantically, while the song of the motor of the approaching car
seemed to din "Hurry! Hurry!" into their ears. And then, just as the
gears of the car were shifted at the bottom of the hill, and it began
its laborious ascent, they were finished.
"Now!" cried Paul, springing back into the shadow of the hedge. "Now
we'll see whether our luck has changed! It has been against us ever
since we got to Huy. It is time, I think, that we had a little good
fortune! Perhaps it will do us no good, even if those nails and
horseshoes do puncture the tires. But we shall see!"
On came the car. The hill was one of those long, steady ascents that
is particularly trying to a fast motor car, high geared and meant to
make great speed on the level, and it came up slowly. But just before
the real crest of the hill was reached there was a lessening of the
grade, and the driver shot into his high speed to get a good start.
That was what Paul had hoped for; that, and something else that he had
not dared to voice as a hope, so faint was the chance that it would
come true.
Now, however, as he saw the car, he could scarcely repress a cry of
exultation.
"There's only one man!" he said to Arthur. "Now if those nails will
only do their part!"
The car shot forward, and in a moment there was a roar as a tire blew
out, and then another, and another. Three tires went, and a hissing of
freed air showed that the other was punctured!