A RISKY UNDERTAKING
DON RICHARDS received some information on the morning of October
1st that caused him a sort of real joy. This word came from an
orderly sergeant sent by the lieutenant-colonel of a regiment of the
Twenty-eighth Division, after a messenger had been received from
Captain Lowden, who had, in turn, obtained facts from two of his men. A
liaison man with the sleeve straps of a sergeant had been seen, among
bushes, to go quickly forward beyond the American positions and toward
a point farther on known to be occupied by the Germans. There could
be but little doubt but that the man was carrying information to the
enemy. A watch had been set for his return, which was likely to occur
at any time, and identification was desired.
Don was on his way at once and soon reached the position held by
Captain Lowden’s company; the boy also then went on watch, which really
amounted to picket duty, and he knew there were other pickets lying
among the bushes and boulders fifty yards or so on each side of him.
He had requested to be allowed to watch the spot where the liaison
sergeant was seen to disappear, but the captain said two of his best
men had that position and no one could get past them. So Don hid
himself among some bushes in a little vale, along which a narrow path
ran, hugging the hillside. There were many such paths traversing the
forest, crossing and re-crossing, leading in every direction; the boy
wondered whether they were made by hares or deer; there were enough
humans frequenting the place to make their tracks thus visible, though
since the Germans came into this area they no doubt used these paths
because of the easier walking.
This picket duty was a long and tiresome vigil; the other men were
relieved, but Don refused to turn over his watch to another. It was a
warm day, balmy, spring-like, reminding him of Indian summer in the
States, and as the afternoon came on and the hours still slowly trailed
away, the boy grew drowsy.
He hardly knew what made him wake; there was no sound, no other
impression upon his senses that he could understand, but suddenly his
eyes were wide open and his thinking apparatus was going one hundred
per cent. This was compelled by what he discerned some distance away
within the little valley: a German soldier and a man in khaki were just
parting; the latter turned to say another word to the Hun, then came
slowly, watchfully along the path.
Don knew the fellow at once--the same short, stout, dark-featured
sergeant, and the boy, whom it was impossible for the other to see,
crouched like a cat about to spring on its prey, the reliable automatic
held in his hand. This was his duty, though no doubt another human
being would be compelled to stand before a firing squad.
But again this conjecture was to prove erroneous; the plan was
sidetracked. What alarmed the spy Don never knew; the fellow suddenly
stopped when less than half way along the vale, stood peering ahead and
stooping to see the better; then as quickly turned and retraced his
steps, disappearing around the bend of the hill.
Don was on his feet immediately and running back to Captain Lowden.
That officer’s remark when he got the story hit the nail on the head:
“Go get him!” he said. “I’ll send Whitcomb, a squad and machine gun
with you. There are not half a dozen Germans within a mile along that
valley path; our scouts have ascertained that. Go get him and bring him
in! They’re not likely to give you any trouble in that region.”
No sooner said than put into execution. In fifteen minutes, with
Lieutenant Whitcomb and ten chosen men, each carrying plenty of
ammunition, some grub and a canteen, the young member of the Army
Information Force started a rapid and silent march adown the little
valley, in single file, following the path around the edge of the hill.
“On duty together, old man, at last,” Herbert said. “I always wished
you could get into it in some way with me.”
“It’s great, being along with you! I feel like just stepping over to
Berlin and grabbing the Kaiser. Anyhow, we may grab one of his smart
agents.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to be so easy,” Herbert said. “The duck’s
evidently a shrewd one and up to more than one trick; you can’t tell
what he may pull off. But orders are orders and here we go, you and I.”
“Think it’s a little risky, though?”
“Oh, everything is risky; everything is a gamble in this scrap against
an enemy that’s part fox, part snake and more than half hog. They are
rooting, squirming about everywhere and you can’t have eyes enough to
get on to all their doings. We’re approaching their territory now.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Don said.
“Men, make a more open formation; spread out a little, anyway, but keep
together,” Herbert said. “Keep a sharp lookout. Report what you see to
the next man and pass it along. Talk low; make no noise. Be ready to
take to cover any second; there’s plenty of it everywhere.”
“Lieutenant, you know Jennings and Gill scouted all through here this
morning,” the corporal said, “and they didn’t see a single Heinie. They
swore they’d all cleared out for over toward that creek they call the
Aire River--that is, all of ’em this side the big hill up here, ’bout a
mile. Up there, I reckon, there’s a million of ’em waiting for us.”
“Think, then, we’re pretty safe right around here, eh?” Herbert
questioned, knowing the man’s squad had all been detailed for scout
duty during the last two days.
“If they sneak in around here it’s only on scout duty, too, from the
hill,” replied the corporal. “Reckon this duffer we’re looking for
trades back and forth from the hill to near our camp.”
“Probably; but I’m not so sure,” Herbert said, “now that we’ve let up
a bit, that machine-gun squads won’t filter through these woods to try
to head us off when we make the next drive. We can take a gamble on it,
however, and follow orders to comb these woods for signs of Mister Spy.
The captain wouldn’t have sent us in here if he hadn’t been pretty sure
it’s all right, though we’ll take precautions and be on the _qui vive_.
What do you think, Don?”
“I think you’ve got the right idea and I hope the dope the scouts
brought in holds out. I know I’d like to get another peep at that
liaison sergeant.”
“You’re sure he was with a Heinie when you first saw him in here?”
“Positive!”
“That shows, then, that they’re making bold enough to think we’re lying
back; maybe for good.” And Herbert laughed softly. “But they’re going
to get badly fooled pretty quick!”
“How far ought we to go on, Herb?” Don asked.
“The captain wants us to find out about this Hun,” he said. “I didn’t
exactly grasp what he meant and he added that we ought to discover,
if possible, where the trail goes that the spy uses, find his camp if
he has one, or lay for him up here where he won’t suspect us. If any
general orders come in the captain will send a runner. I expect we’d
better follow this pathway another quarter of a mile, or until we find
an extra good place for an ambush. There some of us can lie low and a
few can scout around. What say you?”
“I’m agreed, Herb. You know best.”
“No, and I hate taking the responsibility in this sort of thing. I
really don’t mind a scrap or going against what a fellow can see, but
this thing of risking men on the possibility of walking into a trap
gets my nerve a little.”
“You think a trap is possible?” Don asked.
“Well, you might not call it that; it wouldn’t be intentional, but we
might walk into a noose, nevertheless.”
“Say, Herb, what do you think of this? Dandy spot for an ambush, eh? I
suggest we stop right here.”
They had come up out of the valley, rounded a little knoll, over the
top of which some of the men had climbed and come out at the head of
another valley. At one side, well on up the hill, there was a mass of
squarish boulders forming a sort of restricted and oblong basin perhaps
a hundred feet in length and three or four feet in average depth.
On every side among the rocks, grew low, branching spruces, their
spreading branches making a dense shade over the spot.
“A ripper! Dandy! Perhaps old Mother Nature put this here for our
express purpose, nothing else.” Herbert was enthusiastic. He gave the
word to halt and to assemble; then, stooping under the spruces, led his
men into the natural little fortress.
“Make all ship-shape, boys,” Lieutenant Whitcomb ordered. “Toss out
these few small stones and sticks and we’ll call this a drawing-room.
Take positions and stow equipment, except guns and ammunition. Make
yourselves all comfortable and easy so that there won’t be a lot of
hitching around later. If we keep right quiet here for a while maybe
we’ll see something. We may get a chance to take in some Hun scouts or
that spy.”
“I’ve got a hunch,” Don said, when all had settled down upon the dry
carpet of spruce needles, Herbert and himself sitting together, with
their backs against a big rock, “that there’s going to be something
doing around here. I don’t know whether I can smell sauerkraut or not,
but these woods ought to shelter some Heinies somewhere near and if so
they’ll be likely to spy on us. Can’t we beat them at that game, Herb?”
Lieutenant Whitcomb turned to the men:
“Corporal, how about sending Jennings and Gill out to scout around?
they’re crackerjacks at that. We ought to know if we have any
neighbors; we might make them a call, or if the forest here is too well
populated with those things from across the Rhine, we want to send a
runner back and tell the captain about it.”
“All right, sir; those boys are always keen to get out and hunt Huns.
Old deer hunters back home, they tell me.” The corporal got on his
hands and knees and crawled over to the other side of the rocky basin,
taking the orders to two of his men, who immediately, grinning with
positive pleasure, got up, made a hasty survey of the forest and then
sneaked off quickly.
“I don’t wonder they feel that way about it,” Don said. “I’d enjoy
doing a little scouting myself. With your permission, I----”
“I’m not telling you what to do, Don,” Herbert replied. “This is your
job as well as mine. Three are better than two, but if I were you I
wouldn’t go far; anything may happen and we’ll all want to be together.”
Don nodded and arose; in a moment he, too, was making his way slowly,
noiselessly through the underbrush, peering all about, listening.
The forest seemed to be almost silent; hardly a sound came to his
ears. The flutter of a bird ahead, startled from its feeding; a few
stridulating crickets chirping monotonously beneath dead leaves; far
off the occasional boom of heavy guns and once, perhaps more than a
mile away, a brief period of rapid shooting--probably a raiding party
of one side or the other had been warmly received. Don marveled; what
remarkable conditions and surprises intruded upon the great war! Here,
hardly a mile from where hundreds of thousands of men eagerly awaited
the slipping of the leash to spring at each others’ throats, the aisles
of the forest seemed as peaceful as those within a great cathedral; as
though only the plowman or the harvester dominated beyond the woods and
red war was undreamed of.
Don had noted that Gill had gone about due west--for what particular
reason was not apparent--and that Jennings had disappeared toward the
north and the known enemy positions. Therefore, an easterly course was
Don’s choice.
Densely wooded low hills in ridges very close together and with narrow,
dry valleys between, that were masses of tumbled rocks and jungle-like
thickets, lay before him. Don crossed three of these valleys, making
his way with the utmost caution and breaking twigs for a blazed return,
in case he had to make it. It turned out that he did. Reaching the top
of the fourth ridge the boy paused upon detecting a familiar sound--the
muffled tramp of many feet only a short distance away. But he could
not see any distance toward the sound and he was about to shift his
position when he heard the snapping of a twig a few yards away.
Don crouched and was motionless, his automatic in his hand, ready for
any emergency. A figure was coming toward him; he could see the bushes
move a little as though pushed aside. Was this a Hun scout spying on
his enemy also? Were these marching men Americans or Germans?
Nearer came the lone man, moving along to keep pace with the tramping
feet below. Don dared not move, trusting to chance, though it seemed
that the other must stumble over him. The boy made up his mind not
to shoot unless he was compelled to; then to break all records for
sprinting through a tangled forest.
Right over him the bushes swayed and then an arm and a leg was thrust
through the interlocking branches. The boy was about to creep aside,
but on the instant he saw that the sleeve and the trousers were khaki.
He straightened up. Immediately a figure was flung forward almost upon
him and before he could make or whisper a word he was gazing into the
muzzle of a U. S. Army revolver.
“Glory be, it’s you, Lieutenant! By the jumpin’ geehaw, I came near
lettin’ you have it, thinkin’ you were a Hun!” This, though said
excitedly, as one may imagine, was little above a whisper. And then
Jennings, whom Don had by no means expected to see, put his finger on
his lips.
“Sh! They’re down yonder; hear ’em? I follered ’em from near their
biv’wack up there most a mile. Where they’re goin’ to you can search
me, but they’re headin’ the wrong way for our comfort back to the
rocks.”
“How many are there down there?” Don questioned.
“‘Bout three hundred; sev’ral comp’nies, I reckon. Machine guns an’
such. Headin’ the wrong way. We gotta foller ’em an’ see.”
The two did follow, toiling along the ridge most warily until they came
to its end, where the evident roadway from the valley turned a little
to the southwest.
“They’re goin’ to locate right where we come up,” the scout whispered.
“Hadn’t we better go back and report?”
Swiftly they retraced their steps along the ridge and then, Don leading
at a pace that caused Jennings to breathe hard, they went straight to
the camp. And there was Gill, just returned ahead of them.
“They’re fillin’ up the whole woods south of us,” he was saying.
“Coming in from every direction and making an unbroken line across. We
can’t get through, Lieutenant; not even at night.”
And to this information Don and Jennings could but acquiesce.