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THE BOY SCOUTS
ON
BELGIAN BATTLEFIELDS
BY
LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
AUTHOR OF "THE MOTOR CYCLE SERIES," "THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE
EAGLE PATROL," "THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE," "THE BOY
SCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP," "THE BOY SCOUTS' MOUNTAIN
CAMP," "THE BOY SCOUTS FOR UNCLE SAM,"
"THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE PANAMA CANAL,"
"THE BOY SCOUTS UNDER FIRE IN
MEXICO," ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1915,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
[Illustration: The long roll of rifle firing in volleys, and the faint
cheers of charging men.--_Page 178._]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ANTWERP, ON THE SCHELDT 5
II. THE AERIAL MAP-MAKER 19
III. LEAVING FOR THE FRONT 31
IV. THE DAY OF THE BOY SCOUT 45
V. UNDER THE BRIDGE 58
VI. GETTING NEAR THE WAR ZONE 68
VII. THE DESERTION OF ANTHONY 80
VIII. WHEN THE UHLANS CAME 92
IX. WITH FIRE AND SMOKE 102
X. THE DUTY OF A SCOUT 112
XI. MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS IN THE NIGHT 121
XII. THE MEETING BETWEEN THE LINES 131
XIII. CAUGHT IN THE ACT 140
XIV. THE FIELD HOSPITAL 149
XV. CHASING A JACK-O'-LANTERN 161
XVI. THE BATTLE FOR THE TRENCHES 180
XVII. THE BADGE OF COURAGE AND MERCY 190
XVIII. AFTER THE FIGHTING WAS OVER 200
XIX. AN IMPORTANT CLUE 210
XX. THE CAMP FIRES OF AN ARMY 220
XXI. THE HANGING BRIDGE 230
XXII. SCOUT TACTICS 242
XXIII. THE FROG HUNTERS 254
XXIV. THE ARMORED CAR 266
XXV. TURNING THE TABLES 278
XXVI. FOR HUMANITY'S SAKE 290
XXVII. CONCLUSION 302
The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields.
CHAPTER I.
ANTWERP, ON THE SCHELDT.
"Oh! how glad I am that part of the trip is over, now we've crossed from
England to Antwerp without being wrecked!"
"You certainly did seem to have a bad time of it, Tubby, in the wash of
the Channel!"
"Bad time did you say, Rob? It was a great deal worse than anything we
struck on the voyage between New York and Liverpool, let me tell you."
"But now we want to forget all our troubles of the past, Tubby."
"I know what you mean by that, Merritt; it's just the same as telling me
the worst is yet to come."
"Well, I'm a little afraid myself that's going to turn out a fact. Here
we are, just landed in a strange country that is being overrun by an
army of German invaders; and all of us are bound to push deeper and
deeper into the mire."
"Hey, Merritt, you give me a shiver when you say that, don't you know?"
"I guess you must mean a quiver, Tubby; because whenever you laugh or
tremble you make me think of a bowl full of jelly!"
"Now you're making sport of me because I'm so pudgy and fat. Just as if
I could help that; can I, Rob?"
"To be sure you couldn't, Tubby; and we wouldn't want you to be anything
but what you are--the best natured scout in the whole Eagle Patrol, and
I'm safe in saying you're the only fellow in the Long Island town of
Hampton who hasn't an enemy. Everybody takes a fancy to a jolly rolypoly
like you, Tubby."
"What would we do without you?" Merritt added, with real feeling in his
voice.
"Well, but it strikes me you tried mighty hard to induce me not to join
you two on this wonderful trip abroad," complained the fat boy
reproachfully.
"There was a good reason for that, Tubby," defended Merritt quickly. "I
could see that with all these Old World countries in a scrap, my job of
finding that man who is wanted so badly by my grandfather might take me
into the fighting zone. Now Rob, as the leader of the Eagle Patrol,
volunteered to stand by me, and I gladly accepted his assistance. When
you asked to go along I was afraid the hardships of the trip might be
too much for one of your peculiar build. That's all, I give you my word
for it, Tubby."
"My 'peculiar build,' as you call it, Merritt," chuckled the other,
considerably mollified by the explanation offered, "has gotten me into a
peck of trouble, I admit. But you never saw me show the white feather,
did you?"
"Never, Tubby!" admitted the boy addressed, who was a rather thoughtful
looking young chap, of athletic build, though possibly not quite the
equal of Rob Blake, the leader of the scout patrol to which all of them
belonged. "It was mighty good of you two to back me up when I'd decided
to take the risk alone. But unless that precious paper can be recovered,
my grandfather, you know, stands to lose what he says is an enormous
amount of money."
"He's got plenty in reserve, I understand, Merritt," observed Blake.
"What a grand thing that turned out for your folks when Grandfather
Merritt, who had cut your dad out of his will many years ago after he
married against his wishes, repented of his cruelty, and paid you an
unexpected visit to get acquainted. Little did you think, when you stood
up for that old fellow who was being snowballed so unmercifully by a
bunch of village boys, that it was your own grandfather."
"Yes," added Tubby, "you know they say a good action is never thrown
away. That's why I'm always watching for my opportunities. Some day I
hope to win the admiration of a crank millionaire who should, of course,
make me his heir."
"Well, here we are landed in Antwerp, and with a lot of sights to gather
in before we set out in the direction of Brussels to find your man.
Every minute counts, so let's get busy, and begin to wander around."
"That's right, Rob," said Merritt. "Suppose you lead the way."
These boys, who were all dressed in the well-known khaki that
distinguishes scouts in nearly every country of the world, had just
landed from a steamer that reached Antwerp from the shores of England.
They had managed to get themselves and few belongings conveyed to a fair
hotel by means of a vehicle drawn by a broken-down horse; all of the
best animals as well as such automobiles as were deemed worth taking
having been commandeered by the Government for cavalry, field and
artillery purposes.
While Rob Blake and his two chums, Tubby Hopkins and Merritt Crawford,
are thus starting out to secure their first view of the quaint Flanders
city, we may take occasion to glance back and see who they are and what
they have done.
Those who have had the pleasure of reading previous volumes of this
series need no further introduction to the trio; but for the benefit of
any who are now making their acquaintance for the first time, a few
paragraphs may not come in amiss.
There were other patrols in the Hampton Troop, but as the Eagles had
been first in the field, the members of this organization were looked
upon as the pioneers of the scout movement in that part of Long Island.
Rob filled the post of patrol leader, and had, on one occasion, even
occupied the position of assistant scout-master, being fully qualified
for the certificate he had received from Scout Headquarters in New York
City.
Merritt, the second in command, filled the position of corporal. Tubby
thus far seemed content to remain just a scout, though he had, by dint
of hard labor managed to climb into the first grade rank.
Until recently, Merritt's folks had been in just ordinary circumstances.
His father was said to be the best wheelwright in the eastern end of the
island, and by constant labor kept his little family housed and
clothed, and perhaps laid up a little for a rainy day.
Merritt always knew there was some sort of a family skeleton around, and
that he had a severe old grandfather somewhere far away; but beyond that
he had never been able to probe.
One day, near the end of the preceding winter, had come the singular
little incident that wound up in a joyful reunion. Merritt, as one of
his chums chanced to remark a little further back in this story, had
come upon several village roughs engaged in battering a stranger in
town, a little old gentleman who, carrying his grip and finding the
hacks all away from the station, had evidently attempted to walk to the
hotel.
The cowardly assault aroused the indignation of Merritt, who was a manly
boy at all times. He remonstrated with the assailants, and when they
continued to pelt the old man, he proceeded to attack them. Whether he
could have won out alone and unaided will always be an open question.
Fortunately one of the town policemen chanced to come in sight, which
event caused the three foes to vanish in hot haste.
Then imagine the astonishment of Merritt when, after giving the old
gentleman his name at the other's urgent request, he found himself being
hugged by the stranger. He announced himself as Merritt's repentant
grandfather who, unable to keep up his bitter feud longer, had sought
the forgiveness of his son.
Just what came up later to start these three boys across the water
during vacation time, when the Old World was commencing to rock and
heave in the throes of the most terrible war ever known, will be made
clear as the story progresses.
The first volume in the series, _The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol_,
was necessarily confined to the activities of the young organization;
but Rob and his mates met and overcame many difficulties that are well
worth reading about.
In the second volume, _The Boy Scouts on the Range_, were recounted a
series of strange adventures that befell some of the Eagles during a
visit to the Far Southwest, where they took part in the wild life of a
cattle ranch.
Through the pages of _The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship_ the reader
will find that Rob and his comrades always bore themselves manfully, no
matter the emergency; and that they scrupulously observed "scout law"
under any and every occasion, as every true wearer of the khaki makes it
a point to do.
After this, followed an account of many remarkable happenings that
befell the Eagles when under canvas. _The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp_ has
deservedly been reckoned one of the very best scout books ever published
for boys, and those who own a copy are likely to read it many times.
Once more, chance allowed some of the leading characters in the Hampton
Troop to come in touch with Government officers who were experimenting
with a wonderfully designed submarine. It happened that Rob and his
friends were enabled to assist Uncle Sam's agents in defeating the plans
of foreign spies who tried to steal the design of the new invention. In
the pages of _The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam_ are recorded the adventures
that accompanied their service, as well as mention of the reward
following their victory.
It was a happy chance that allowed some of the boys to pay a visit to
the then uncompleted Panama Canal. While in the Canal Zone they again
demonstrated that they were always wide-awake and devoted to the service
of their country. Much useful information will also be found between the
covers of this volume, called _The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal_.
Once more, Rob and several of his close adherents were unexpectedly
allowed to take a trip. Andy Bowles, the bugler of the troop, had an
uncle who owned a cattle ranch down in Chihuahua, in Mexico. He was
sick, and unable to go down himself to dispose of the stock before the
fighting forces of rebels and Federals drove the herds away.
Accordingly, he sent his nephew and several of his chums to seek General
Villa, whom he had once befriended, and gain his assistance in selling
the valuable stock. The wonderful things they saw, and the peculiar
adventures that came their way, have all been described in the seventh
volume, just preceding this, under the title of _The Boy Scouts Under
Fire in Mexico_.
That, telling briefly some of the remarkable things that happened in
their career as Boy Scouts, will have to suffice to introduce Rob and
his two chums to the reader.
Starting out from their hotel, the three American boys were soon
engrossed in their pursuit of seeing some of the strange sights for
which this old Flemish city on the Scheldt has always been famous.
While they gazed, and made many amusing comments, Rob could not help
noticing that, in turn, they attracted considerable attention. He could
give a good guess as to the reason of this.
At that time, with the vast German army spreading out over most of
Belgium, and also fighting its way to Paris, the good people of Antwerp
were constantly worried over the possibility of an attack. They had many
scares, though as yet the invaders, after taking Brussels, had not
chosen to invest the big city near the sea. Later on, as we all know,
the time came when their heavy artillery was turned on the forts of
Antwerp, and before the terrible fire from those colossal German guns,
steel domes that had been called invulnerable were easily battered to
pulp.
With the assault and fall of Antwerp we have nothing to do, at least at
present; but possibly those Flemish people thought the Boy Scouts part
of an English army coming to defend Antwerp.
When Rob and his two chums landed from England, after crossing on a
small steamer, they found the city choked with fugitives and Belgian
soldiers.
Pushing their way along the crowded sidewalks, the boys took in all the
sights that were so new to their American eyes. Only Rob had a small
smattering of French, while his companions could not speak a word of the
language. All of them were utterly ignorant of Flemish, current in half
the homes of Belgium.
The way in which the natives made use of sturdy-looking dogs, harnessed
in small carts, and trained to do their duty in order to earn their
keep, was perhaps the most interesting thing that held their attention.
"Why," remarked Merritt, "they use dogs for nearly everything. Dozens
of milk peddlers have teams to drag their big brass cans around. Then
there are the hucksters, like we have over in New York, only these
fellows peddle from carts drawn by dogs. We saw one poor, four-footed
wretch roped to a treadmill, and doing the family churning; so I guess
Belgium must make the dog traffic pay right well."
"And think of dogs drawing a quick-firing gun, which we saw in that
street where the soldiers were getting ready to go to the front!"
exclaimed Tubby. "I think that was the queerest sight ever."
"I can plainly see," Rob told them, "that while we're over here we are
bound to keep our eyes wide open all the time because there are so many
things that strike us as being queer just because we've been used to
other ways. These people would stare at many of the things we think are
common."
"What are you looking at now, Tubby?" asked Merritt, seeing that the
boy, who had gained his name because after a fashion he resembled a tub
of butter, was in the act of stretching his fat neck in order to see
something that had attracted his attention.
"Why, I was wondering what made all the people crook their necks like
that, and look up in the air. Is there a German Zeppelin heaving in
sight? I don't seem to glimpse any big dirigible up there; do you,
fellows?"
"What's that moving along away up near the clouds?" demanded Merritt.
"It must be an aeroplane," said Tubby. "I just heard somebody say my
name close by; but he pointed up at that flier. What could he have
meant, Rob?"
"I think I can tell you," replied the other scout. "German aeroplanes
are called Taubes, and it sounded like your name. They say that is an
aeroplane spy up there!"