CHAPTER VIII.

THE COUNTRY OF WINDMILLS.

Of course everybody became tremendously excited; at least everybody but

Thad, who somehow seemed to be able to retain his coolness in the

presence of peril better than any of his comrades.

"There are four of them!" announced Giraffe, immediately, "and they're

digging their spurs into their nags for all that's out. I guess they

know we're meaning to cross over into little old Holland, and they want

to nab us before we can get over the border line!"

"They must have been sent after us by that smart officer we ran up

against at that town; the one who turned us back, and threatened to

arrest us!" Allan remarked, this being the one explanation of the

pursuit that flashed into his mind.

"Either that," added Bumpus, "or else the chap who was on the ferry with

us told of the meeting after he got to Duren, and they sent out that

squad with orders to bring us in, dead or alive!"

Thad was saying not a word. He seemed to be devoting all his attention

to manipulating the old car so as to get every atom of speed out of it

possible. Besides, since its course was so erratic he had to be very

careful how he steered, as even a slight blunder might mean a smash-up.

Thad had not even made the slightest attempt to look back and see their

oncoming pursuers. He was content to take the word of his mates for it

that they were making great headway, and closing in on them at a rapid

rate.

"This is getting mighty interesting, let me tell you!" exclaimed

Giraffe, as he twisted his long neck again and again in order to watch

the rush of the cavalrymen, and then try to judge whether the car could

gain an offing before being overhauled.

"I can see what looks like the border post ahead there another mile!"

Allan now told them.

That was indeed cheery news, and must have revived their drooping

courage. Still naturally Giraffe immediately expressed a desire to know

on what sort of foundation Allan fixed his assertion.

"What makes you think it's the crossing where we strike Holland?" he

demanded.

"Because I can see soldiers in uniforms, and they don't happen to be the

gray kind we've seen most Germans wear, either. Yes, and they've got

what looks like high-peaked caps, which I've read the Dutch troops use."

"Bully!" exclaimed Bumpus, and the others knew he must be greatly worked

up, for as a rule Bumpus never used words like this, leaving that to

Giraffe.

"How are they doing now?" asked Thad.

"Catching up hand over fist," replied Giraffe. "It's going to be an open

question whether they reach us before we cross the line, or not."

"Oh! I think we've got a good chance to slip over, unless something

happens to our cranky old engine," Allan asserted, for it was his nature

to be sanguine, just as the tall scout could not help looking at the

gloomy side of things as a rule.

"Now they're lashing their mounts like everything," reported Giraffe;

"and seems to me they do get more speed out of the horses."

Bumpus did not attempt to get up any more, so as to look. He had a firm

grip on the side of the quivering car, and was staring ahead. Perhaps he

was trying to figure how happy he would be if only they could rush

across that border line, and secure the protection of those Dutch

soldiers.

They were drawing very close to the haven of refuge, so that it was easy

for all of them to see the little squad of guardians stationed there to

see that the strictest neutrality was maintained. While the Netherlands

might seem to be a small country, still she has an active army of some

five hundred thousand soldiers, and history tells how bravely the Dutch

have always fought when their country was invaded.

Germany would not want to have such a foe on her flank. Besides, many of

those harbors of Holland would be extremely valuable to an Allied navy

seeking to strike at the heart of the gun foundry region of the

Fatherland.

Giraffe was becoming more excited than ever. He fairly quivered as he

reported the lessening of the distance between the fleeing car and the

pursuing horsemen.

"Faster! Thad, give her all the juice you can! Squeeze a little more

speed out of the poor old thing, and we'll do it yet!" was the burden of

his appeal.

Of course Thad was trying everything he could to coax the motor to do

just a little mite better. Small things count at a time like this, and

even the wobbling motion that the car continued to keep up as it ran was

counting against them, more or less.

But the race could not last long now. The Dutch border guard had spread

out, and seemed to be ready to do some threatening with their guns.

"I only hope they don't mean to shoot at us," Giraffe was heard to say

when he noticed this; "if only we had a big enough flag for them to see

they'd know we were Americans, and friends. I wonder how it would do for

me to shout out that word as we come up?"

"It would do no harm, Giraffe!" Allan told him.

Accordingly the tall scout began to make frantic gestures as he stood

there, trying to balance himself in the swaying car. He had an idea that

he was using his arms to denote their peaceful intentions; but possibly

the puzzled Dutch soldiers might imagine him stark crazy.

"Americans! We're American boys!" he kept shouting.

Bumpus tried to pull him down.

"They're shooting at us back there, Giraffe!" he pleaded, "and you might

get hit."

It seemed that the Uhlans were using their weapons, though when going at

that wild pace they could not have had much hope of doing any execution,

unless by some accident.

A dozen seconds more of suspense followed, every one of which must have

seemed an eternity to the fleeing scouts. Then they reached the line of

the Dutch border guard and were thrilled to know they had actually left

German soil behind them.

Thad immediately shut off power, and applied the brake, for he had seen

that one of the guard made a motion easily interpreted. Giraffe was

dancing about in the car, though Bumpus after having his toes trodden on

several times promptly shoved him out.

The Uhlans had given up the pursuit. They evidently felt so chagrined

over having failed to overhaul the fugitives that they would not even

wait to exchange words with the Dutch soldiers, but wheeling their

horses started back along the dusty road.

Of course the Dutch guard at once gathered around. Giraffe wondered

whether his poor command of German would serve him in this case as well

as it had done under other conditions. He was saved from this anxiety,

however, for the one who seemed to be in command of the post immediately

addressed them in fair English. He must have taken his cue from the way

Giraffe shouted that word "American"; and then, now that they had come

up, it was easy to see those miniature flags pinned on the lapels of the

scouts' khaki coats.

He proceeded to ask questions, and Thad was only too well pleased to

answer. The passports were shown, and seemed to satisfy the soldiers.

There would be hundreds, yes thousands of non-combatants presently

seeking an asylum on the neutral soil of Holland; and those

warm-hearted, hospitable people would show the world that they had no

superiors when it came to holding out a helping hand to those in

distress.

"We have Boy Scouts over here in Holland," the non-commissioned officer

proudly told them; "and they have won the respect of the whole Nation.

Only here in Europe, you know, every boy has to look forward to serving

the colors at some time in his life, so they all expect to be soldiers

of the Queen later on."

"I hope you will not think it necessary to detain us, sergeant?" Thad

asked, after he felt sure they had made a good impression on the Dutch.

"Please stretch a point if you can," pleaded Bumpus, "for I am wild to

get over in Belgium where my poor sick mother is waiting for me."

The soldier scratched his head as though a little puzzled.

"We would know what to do if you were enlisted men of any country at

war," he explained; "it would then be our duty to interne you until

peace came. But orders have not been so clear about what to do if

citizens of the United States choose to cross our country. I might hold

you until you could communicate with your Minister, Dr. Van Dyke; or on

the other hand I might just wash my hands of you, and let you go as you

pleased."

"Oh! that's most kind of you, sir!" exclaimed Bumpus, possibly meaning

to help the soldier choose the latter course; "all we want to do is to

cross over this neck of Holland and enter Belgium, so we can go around

the fighting line without getting caught in the mess. Thad, we'll never

forget this kindness, will we?"

It was really clever in Bumpus to exert this species of flattery in

order to gain his end. Perhaps it did influence the Dutch sergeant more

or less, for he smiled amiably and offered his hand to Bumpus.

"Get across as quickly as you can," he told them; "for my superior

officer will be due here presently, and he might look at things in a

different light from what I do. I spent several happy years in your

country once, and then came back home to marry, and serve out my time in

the army. Good luck to you, young mynherr, and to all of you. That is

all; you can go!"

They lost no time in making a fresh start. The superior officer might

happen to come along ahead of time, and spoil all their plans.

It was with considerable satisfaction Bumpus looked around him at the

new sights that met their eyes as they passed across that narrow strip

of territory belonging to Holland, and which stretches down between the

other two countries as if it were used as a convenient buffer, and for

no other purpose.

"There's a real Dutch windmill, yes, and I can see some more of the same

kind!" Bumpus was telling them, pointing excitedly as he spoke.

"Oh! they're as common as dirt, you'll find," Allan told him. "They not

only pump water but are used for a great many other purposes. A Dutchman

would almost as soon think of doing without his vrouw as his windmill."

"Given half an hour, and if this road isn't too wobbly we ought to be at

the Belgian frontier," Thad announced.

"We've carried everything by storm so far," said Giraffe, exultantly;

"and there's some hope we may get to Antwerp. If the Germans over the

line couldn't hold us in check we oughtn't to be much afraid that the

Belgians will try to detain us."

"I wonder now if that can be an inn we see ahead there?" suggested

Bumpus, with a most intense longing look on his face as he shaded his

eyes with one hand the better to see.

"It looks like some sort of a road-house," Thad ventured.

"Yes," added Giraffe, almost as eagerly as the fat scout, "and I can see

what must be a swinging sign hanging there. Thad, hadn't we better take

a chance, and say we've tasted one meal in Holland?"

"What about you, Allan?" asked the patrol leader.

"I think I could tackle any sort of stuff just about now. We had an

early breakfast on the boat, you know, and it's now getting along in the

afternoon. I'm willing to try most anything once."

Thad laughed.

"I guess that settles the question," he told them.

"Then we stop over, do we?" demanded Bumpus.

"Three against one would carry the day, because scouts believe in

majority ruling," said Thad; "and to tell you the truth, I'm pretty

savage myself for something to eat. So we'll pull up, and see what they

can give us at this hour."

The Boy Scouts on War Trails in Belgium; Or, Caught Between Hostile Armies · 第 8 / 29 章