LYING LOW
THE next ten minutes were almost a non-breathing experience for twelve
good men and true; they had decided that their safety lay in at least
keeping most woefully quiet. A little while after the ordeal had
passed, Herbert and Donald were telling each other what had been in
their thoughts during those tense moments when the heavy footfalls were
drawing nearer. Herbert had imagined one of his men suddenly sneezing
and Don had wished for the chance to turn a good old American skunk
loose to scent up the place; this would have surely kept the German
officers at a safe distance.
But there proved to be no fear of the one, nor need of the other
doubtful procedure; the khaki squad was as silent as death and the two
ascending German officers no more suspected their presence in the spot
than they would have a herd of elephants. And so they came quite to the
edge of the spruces, sat down on a boulder and conversed in low tones
for about ten minutes; then got up again and as slowly went back to
their camp. Twelve breathing sets of apparatus were in easier working
order when it was reported that the Germans had gone.
Jennings was heard then to roll over on his improvised couch of
moss-lined rock and remark, decidedly _sotto voce_:
“Don’t know’s I’m so durned glad they didn’t ketch on to us. They’d
’a’ been two more dead Huns right sudden. I could ’a’ got ’em both by
myself before they could ’a’ hollered ’donner vetter!’ and I would ’a’
done it, too, soon’s I seen their eyes a stickin’ out when they ketched
sight of us.”
“Sho! You’d been so scared you’d forgot you had a gun,” Gill bantered
his fellow scout and buddy.
“Well, then, I’d ’a’ reached over an’ grabbed ’em an’ fetched ’em in
here an’ held ’em so’s you could ’a’ bit their ears.”
“Quietly there, men, for the love of Uncle Sam! Levity is usually
admirable, but this is an exception,” Herbert cautioned, hearing the
subdued laughter that went around.
“It might be a case of being tickled ’most to death,” Don remarked.
“We might vary the monotony of this existence by having a bite to eat
all round,” Herbert ordered. “Rations, boys, but limited to half that
you want. Hard, I know, but perhaps necessary. After ’while we may need
full stomachs to fight on. Literally that, down back of these rocks.”
“If them Jerries is ever goin’ to get me, I’d heap ruther they’d have
me satisfied than hungry,” Jennings remarked.
“I reckon I could eat about a whole Heinie right now! I always was
partial to pork,” Gill declared.
Again the time dragged on; to relieve it in part the men went through
silent pantomime. Two fellows, on their hands and knees, butting at
each other like rams gave Gill the idea of imitating a dog digging out
a field mouse, and four chaps, who were wont to sing together when
silence was not so golden, sat in a row and went through the motions of
various musical selections, as dirges, ballads and ragtime, granting
several encores in answer to a perfectly silent handclapping.
Through all these trying hours there had been men constantly at both
peep-holes, all taking turns. The Germans at the bottom of the hill
had simply done little or nothing all day, except to hang around,
eating occasionally, cleaning their weapons, some few writing, others
sleeping or lolling on the ground. Only once was there a break in
this monotony, when a group of officers, probably high in command,
came through the little valley. Then every Hun got to his feet, with
heels together, and saluted for dear life; but unlike the democratic
Americans and Frenchmen, the officers did not appear as though aware of
the presence of the common soldiers or under officers.
And then once more the shadows grew long and the darkness came slowly
down, with the far distant sounds of occasional firing more distinct
and a chill breeze coming up that caused both friend and foe to seek
some covering for the night. The little squad in the rocky hollow on
the hillside again resorted to dry leaves and spruce boughs, both under
and over. The watch was detailed to include every man, three acting at
a time, and if there was the least suggestion of snoring or of talking
in sleep the offender was to find himself awakened instantly, with a
hand placed firmly over his mouth. And one such instance did occur; it
was Don who toward morning began to mumble and then suddenly cry out:
“Go get him! He’s the m-m-m----” The rest of this utterance came
through the corporal’s fingers; after which the boy chose to remain
awake for the remaining hour before dawn.
Jennings had been gone since about eleven o’clock, in the effort to
find an unguarded spot where the squad might sneak through under cover
of the darkness. About midnight a single shot was heard not far away,
followed by another ten minutes later. It was becoming gray in the east
and, all being awake and the scout’s continued absence being noted,
Herbert remarked:
“I hope they haven’t got him. He might have stumbled into a picket,
but I can hardly think it of Jennings; he isn’t that careless. Let us
hope----” Even while the lieutenant spoke there was a slight stir among
the spruces above them, on the up side of the hill, and when they all
turned that way, some expecting the enemy and having their guns in
hand, the grinning face of the Pennsylvania mountaineer peered at them.
“They ain’t no way, Lieutenant. Them Jerries is got the hull ground
clear acrosst took up with gun nests an’ some trenches. They’re in
there as thick as hair on a yaller dog; there’s one or two mangy
spots, but they’re watchin’ them close. Got to stay here, I reckon, a
while more an’ then some. Me fer sleepin’ a little now, if you don’t
object, Lieutenant.”
“Go to it!” Herb said, laughing, as ever softly. “We’re awfully glad to
see you; thought you might have had bad luck. Did you hear those shots
soon after you left?”
“Rather did.” Jennings grinned again. “But he missed me and when they
come into the brush to look they most stepped on me. Second time I
reckon they thought they heard me again an’ jes’ fired random-like, an’
I sneaked out. There was four Heinies together settin’ still on a log,
like buzzards waitin’ fer a ol’ cow to croak, or somethin’.”
“The War Cross for you, old scout!” Don said. “And say, boys, if
the Heinies down there don’t show any more curiosity about their
surroundings than they did yesterday, we’ll likely pull through another
day all right.”
“Pull through is right,” remarked the corporal. “It is a pull.”
“If I was the boss of this outfit,” Gill said, with an apologetic
grin at Herbert, “I’d just get up and slip down yonder and take them
fellers prisoner and march ’em into our lines. Nerve is what counts; if
they saw us coming from up out of the earth, they’d all throw up their
hands and holler ‘kamerad’!”
“I’m afraid not, Gill; we won’t risk it, anyway,” said Herbert. “The
inside of a Hun prison camp wouldn’t look good to any of us and unless
we wanted to commit suicide on the spot, they’d get us. Twelve men
against a good many thousand makes the odds too great; eh, boys?”
The remarks in reply to Herbert’s were characteristic:
“Stayin’ here is bad enough, but ketchin’ Hun cooties is worse!”
“Me fer layin’ low some more.”
“I’d like to see the good little old United States again if I can.”
“This place looks good enough to me just now, though it might have hot
and cold water, real sheets on the beds and a kitchen.”
“If we’ve got to stay here long enough and the Jerries down there
wouldn’t object to the noise, we might accommodate you and build a
hotel.”
“Reminds me of the Connecticut Yankee they tell about who got wrecked
on nothing but a sand bar in the ocean and in two years he had a
prosperous seaport going, with two factories and a railroad. Who’s a
liar?”
Again the hours took upon themselves snail-like speed and life among
those rocks became well-nigh unendurable. Imagine, then, the feeling of
relief when the present watchers of the squad beheld the German company
in the valley, under sharp orders, pick up their accoutrements and
move on toward the south again, out of sight and hearing, to occupy,
no doubt, a new and better position. True, the present risk was not
lifted; messengers from or to the front might pass, or Hun units at any
time approach, though it was not likely that the woods this far back of
the occupied defenses were picketed.
“We can take a gamble far enough,” Lieutenant Whitcomb declared, “to
get out and build up our defenses; pile more rocks all around. Get at
it, men, and make them heavy enough to stop machine gun bullets.”
Four of the squad were sent on either side to do picket duty and to
keep an especially sharp watch. It was one of these pickets, through
thoughtlessness while meaning to do his duty fully, that, as Don
expressed it, “spilled the beans.” Farnham went into a large patch of
bushes not quite head high, intending to use it as a screened place of
observation just as a Boche one-man airplane passed, flying low and so
far to one side that Farnham knew he could not be seen by the pilot.
Suddenly there was the sound as of breaking camp again; another unit
over the ridge was moving on and Farnham craned his neck, exposing
also his shoulders in order to see ahead. At that moment the airplane
swerved and before the Yank thought to duck down he was seen.
Then the Boche made an error. Had he passed on and signaled to the
nearest contingent, they could have sneaked up, surrounded and captured
the American, but with the usual show of hate dominating, the flier
wheeled again and sent a stream of incendiary bullets into the bushes.
For a wonder the Yank was untouched; he quickly crawled on hands and
knees back toward camp and the birdman, unable to see him longer,
headed straight for the nearest Hun signal station. When Farnham
reached the squad the pickets were immediately called in, once again
the crowd lying low. It was now only a question of time when they must
defend themselves against terrible odds.
“Here they come and on the run, some of them!” announced the corporal,
with his eye to the peep-hole. Every man gripped his gun, feeling the
moment had arrived for him to do or die. Still a little longer it
was to be postponed. Intent upon reaching the patch of bushes on the
hilltop where the airman had signaled that the American was seen, the
half dozen Boches hastened on, two going directly past the rock basin
and never once turning to look it over. Several of the Yanks, though
lying prone, could see for a moment the helmets of these searchers who
believed they were on the track of a lone spy, or a lost picket. They
disappeared up the hill and Farnham, who had been responsible for this
scare, but had received not one word of censure from his commanding
officers, ejaculated fervently:
“Thank the good Lord they didn’t see us!”
But the relief was short-lived. There being no sign of the spy on the
ridge top, the searchers spread out and two of them came back down the
hill and were again about to pass on. And then the possibility of a
good hiding place beneath the dark spruces may have occurred to one of
them, though it can never be known what he thought. With a guttural
exclamation he turned and saw far more than he had expected, but he
didn’t exist long enough to make even a mental note thereof. As he
tumbled in a heap the other Hun started to run and he, too, joined his
late companion in the unknown. With admirable coolness the Americans
had met the situation and only one shot for each of these foemen had
been used; the ammunition must not be wasted. Farnham’s gun was warm
and he was minus two cartridges.
“Get out there and drag those poor chaps under cover, two of you, Kelly
and Wilson!” Herbert ordered. “Make short work of it!”
But they could not make that gruesome task short enough. Attracted by
the shots, the four remaining searchers had turned that way and one
began shooting at Kelly. Lieutenant Whitcomb leveled his rifle at the
tree where only the head and arms of the Hun showed, at a distance of a
hundred and fifty yards; then no more shots came from behind that tree.
Getting an inkling of the situation, though unable to estimate the
number of men among the rocks, the other Huns retreated and carried the
news to their commander. In twenty minutes thereafter the surrounded
squad was facing all that they had known must come to them.