The Uhlan had evidently been trying to hide. He was crawling along as
with an effort, and undoubtedly experiencing great physical pain in so
doing, which went to prove that his injury was more than trifling.
He must have heard the approach of the two American lads, for just as
they discovered him amidst the bushes he drew himself up and faced
about. Amos would never forget that sight of the wounded rough rider.
His face was scratched and bleeding, doubtless caused by his hasty and
reckless plunge into the bushes at the time he left his saddle. There
was a defiant look on it, like that of a man who has given up all hope
of coming out of the adventure with his life, yet meant to show a grim
front to the foe, and go down with colors flying.
“Tell him we’re not enemies, Jack!” exclaimed Amos, quickly, for the
sight of that poor injured fellow gave him a cruel shock; he was
reminded of a wretched dog at bay amidst a host of furious enemies, and
the sensation was anything but pleasant to the boy.
Jack had just the same notion in his mind.
He held up both hands. This was an Indian custom which Jack had picked
up during his life in the West. It meant that he did not have arms in
his hands, and that his intentions were pacific. On the whole face
of the earth there are few living human beings who would fail to
understand the significance of the movement. The Uhlan was not devoid
of ordinary intelligence, even though sadly rattled just then on
account of his recent heavy fall.
Slowly the two boys advanced. The man was staring hard at them. He
looked as if he feared it might be only a cunning trick on the part of
these treacherous British, for he undoubtedly believed they were of
that nationality.
“Point to your little American flag, Amos, while I try to get enough
German words together to let him know where we belong,” said Jack.
“That’s the ticket,” affirmed the other. “Jack, be sure and tell him
that we stand ready to render first aid to the injured, if so be he’ll
let us take a look at his hurts.”
The Western boy grunted a little at this. He did not feel quite so
kindly toward the invaders as Amos seemed to. Jack could not get out
of his mind a whole lot of terrible things that he had seen with his
own eyes, which marked the ruthless advance of the great German army
through this part of Belgium; and which would of course be found in the
wake of any invading host. The sack of the fine chateau so close at
hand was only a minute example of what he had in mind.
Still, Jack knew very well that individually each German soldier had
little responsibility for such acts. The system back of them must bear
all the blame for the devastation of the land, and the stern methods of
reprisals against such Belgians as hampered their progress through the
country.
“All right, Amos,” he said, quickly, “I’ll tell him that; and I reckon
we’d feel pretty cheap if we turned to one side when we might lend a
helping hand. Get busy now, and show that you are carrying a small
edition of Old Glory along with you over here in these shambles.”
Amos displayed his colors as prominently as he could by thrusting the
lapel of his coat forward, and pointing energetically at the little
flag. He saw the wondering eyes of the German take it in; and that
he must have partly understood could be noticed in the expression of
surprise that came upon his face.
Then Jack on his part began to have his say in the matter. Perhaps his
German was pretty faulty, and at another time might have caused the man
to laugh; but the situation for him was much too serious just then for
anything like that.
He heard the words “friends--American boys--not your enemies--would
even try to bind up your hurts after a fashion if you let us!” They
certainly must have given him an intense feeling of relief, for that
strained look on his scratched and set face gradually relaxed.
He nodded his head and said something in his own language which Amos
believed to be his readiness to trust the two boys who had so suddenly
appeared before him. Then he sank to the ground in a heap.
“Jack, he’s gone!” ejaculated Amos, feeling rather faint himself.
The other sprang forward and bent over the prostrate Uhlan. Hurriedly
he looked the man over, while Amos waited to hear his decision.
Certainly the poor fellow appeared as though the “silver cord” had been
broken in his case, for there was no sign of life about him.
“How about it, Jack?” asked Amos, anxiously, for while he did not
know the man from Adam, at the same time he felt an interest in him,
probably based upon the fact that they had seen him struck down, and
were now at his side.
“He’s only swooned, I think,” Jack told his chum presently. “You see
he’s been pretty seriously hurt, arm broken, and I’m afraid his ribs
are in bad shape, not to mention the wound he got from that bullet
which has cost him a heap of blood.”
Jack started at once to try and do what he could while the man remained
unconscious. In a crude but effective fashion he stanched the flow of
blood. Then he managed to get the man’s jacket off, and see to his arm,
Amos assisting in setting the broken bone and bandaging the injured
extremity, even sacrificing a part of his own shirt so as to accomplish
this, which was surely a strong evidence of his earnestness.
“That’s the best we can do,” said Jack, after they had finished, and he
stepped back to look critically at the work accomplished.
“Will he live, do you think?” asked Amos.
The Western boy shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
“I don’t dare say one way or the other,” he remarked. “If he could get
the proper care right now he’d have a good chance to pull through; but
you know he’s on the wrong side of the fighting line to expect much.
The British will have thousands of their own wounded to take care of,
and you could hardly expect them to leave even one of their own flesh
and blood behind in order to make room in an ambulance for an enemy.”
“It’s tough on Hans then, I must say,” and Amos shook his head in turn,
to immediately add: “But he’s coming to, Jack, for I saw his eyelids
flutter just then.”
“Yes, he’s beginning to open his eyes,” muttered the other.
The Uhlan blinked a number of times as he stared hard at the two
strange boys. Evidently he could not place them at once. Then a wince
of pain made him aware of the fact that he was not arousing from sleep
in his own encampment, and amidst his comrades. He looked down and saw
the bandaged arm. Possibly something of the truth flashed across his
mind in that instant, for they saw his face light up, and his eyes were
fastened upon the little American flag in the buttonhole of Amos’ coat.
“We have done all we could for you,” Jack was trying to convey to him
through means of such words as he could summon up, as well as various
signs with hands, head and shoulders, such as may be made to mean
volumes, “we must leave you now. Perhaps if you can crawl out to the
edge of the road some Red Cross ambulance going back with a load of
wounded might find room for you aboard. If you understand what I am
saying nod your head to let us know.”
The man followed his instructions, and Jack felt after that the limit
of their usefulness had been reached. Humanity could not expect any
more of them, for they had done all that lay in their power.
“He’s trying to get up, Jack!” exclaimed Amos.
“Yes, I just told him he’d better crawl nearer the road, and some
ambulance coming from the front might have room for him. Let’s get one
on either side and help him walk there,” said the other.
He often wished he could have taken a picture of Amos and himself
assisting the wounded Uhlan along, just as tenderly as though he were a
brother. It would have always stood for proof to show that he and his
cousin were trying to carry out the request of President Wilson for
strict neutrality, at least as far as could be done when brought face
to face with the horrors of the battlefield.
On the border of the little road they stopped. The German rough rider
was propped against a convenient tree, where any one passing along
could not fail to notice him. They had even seen to it that his face
was turned toward the fighting line; since any chance of help must come
from that direction.
So they left him there. Amos even turned once and waved his hand to
him, receiving in return a like salutation; for the Uhlan by that time
could not mistake the friendliness of those two boys.
“Somehow,” mused Amos as they passed along, “I’m beginning to think
that a whole lot we’ve heard about the brutality of these Uhlans is
humbug. In the terror and excitement of war people exaggerate ten times
over. Why, that fellow didn’t look like a savage. His face was that of
a young German, and when the fighting light died out of his eyes they
were as blue as the skies.”
“I was thinking about the same thing,” admitted Jack. “Between you and
me I’ve got an idea most of these terrible raiding Uhlans are at home
only ordinary German boys, accustomed to hard riding. When the call to
the colors came they dropped their ordinary vocation and hurried to
quarters, to put on their uniforms and take up a new life. In other
words, scratch the back of a fierce Uhlan and after all is said and
done you’ve got a very ordinary citizen of the Fatherland.”
As they tramped along the road they cast an occasional glance back
toward the ruined mansion where they had witnessed the terrible battle
between the army of the Kaiser and that of the Allies; for they fancied
that there were Belgian troops in that line somewhere or other, trying
to keep this corner of their beloved country from slipping back into
the clutches of the foe.
The fight was still going on. At times the pulsations came in thrilling
gushes to their ears, and then again seemed to temporarily die down.
It was not long before they began to meet vehicles heading for the
fighting zone. These were not artillery trains now but others bent on
an errand of mercy--hospital vans, ambulances perhaps with a doctor and
a nurse bearing the magical Red Cross on their sleeves; English-made
lorries capable of carrying a large number of groaning warriors to a
place where they could be temporarily looked after, and then probably
sent across to London.
They came in packs, and at times there was a constant stream in sight.
Amos was visibly moved by all this. He knew that while these vans were
almost empty now, when they returned they would be carrying loads of
suffering humanity. The boy had had his baptism along the line of being
brought in touch with war’s dreadful scenes, but he had not as yet
commenced to feel callous, and this wholesale suffering affected him
very much.
Of course all aboard these vehicles intended for missionary work seemed
to be British, saving possibly a few chauffeurs who may have been
Belgians, able and willing to work in any capacity so long as they were
striking a blow for the devoted defenders of their sadly harassed land.
The boys with their cheery faces attracted considerable attention. Each
ambulance carried a nurse, as well as a doctor when possible, and these
returned the greetings Amos and Jack sent with their ready hands.
“I suppose it would be pretty nervy in us if we dared to stop one
of them and ask that they take up our patient on the return trip,”
suggested Amos, still thinking of the wounded Uhlan propped up against
the tree, and with his wistful face turned down the road.
“I hardly think we ought to mention it,” replied Jack; “because there’s
so much bad blood shown between the Germans and the British just now
they’d only refuse. This war is getting more bitter the further it
moves along, and there’s no telling what will happen yet with Turkey in
it, and other nations on the verge of joining the Allies.”
“There’s an ambulance that seems to be in trouble, Jack!” exclaimed
Amos, pointing down the road as they turned a sudden bend.
“Yes, something has happened, for the chauffeur is down, and the nurse
also. Let’s quicken our pace a little more, Amos, and see what’s gone
wrong.”
“We’ve already shown that we’re capable of helping out in the case of
a wounded man,” chuckled Amos, keeping alongside his cousin as the
latter started off at a faster walk that almost amounted to a jog trot.
“P’raps we’ll also be Johnny-on-the-spot when it comes to patching up a
bursted tire, or the crippling of some part of the motor.”
“Well, both of us happen to know a little about auto motors,” admitted
the other, “so that wouldn’t be so queer, after all. But here we are.”
“Gee! the nurse is a rosy-cheeked English girl, all right,” muttered
Amos. “If I had the bad luck to get hurt I guess the sight of her
wholesome face would help me a heap to recover. See how she smiles and
beckons to us, would you, Jack? She must think we look like we could
help them out of the hole.”
Amos thrust out his chest just a trifle more as he said this. Really
there is nothing that can awaken a boy’s conceit as much as confidence
expressed in his ability by another, whether this takes the shape of
words or looks.
Upon reaching the spot where the ambulance stood on one side of the
road they quickly learned what was wrong. After all, it was only a
punctured tire; but while the Belgian boy who had been at the wheel
may have been able to guide the car, and carry out the duties of a
chauffeur fairly well, he seemed to be something of a sad bungler when
it came to making ordinary repairs.
Jack instantly realized this when he came up; and if he had failed to
do so the first words of the pretty English Red Cross nurse would have
convinced him.
“He is making a terrible mess of it, I’m afraid,” was what she said.
“All the chauffeurs passing are in such great haste to get on I haven’t
been able to secure any assistance. This boy is green at the work; he
was picked up on the road when the regular driver was taken very sick
and had to be left behind. Would you mind taking a look, and seeing
what needs to be done?”