GETTING NEAR THE WAR ZONE.
"Hold on to your horses, everybody!" called out Merritt, as he looked
back toward the bridge from which they had now managed to press quite a
little distance.
Merritt somehow did not seem to be very much astonished at what Rob had
said. It might be he himself had entertained suspicions along those same
lines.
They had heard that the determined Belgians were engaged in throwing all
the obstacles possible in the way of an advance in force on the part of
the invaders. If only cavalry were to be dealt with, the defenders of
the soil had faith in their ability to take care of all that could be
sent against them; but it was known to be a fact that the artillery arm
was what the Germans meant to depend on more than anything else in this
war for conquest.
If bridges and culverts were destroyed in every direction before the
enemy could take possession of the roads, it would be next to impossible
to move the great siege guns until some sort of strong temporary
structure had been built in place of the stone and steel fabrics that
were blown up.
And so, for days, there had been reports drifting in to Antwerp that
certain bridges had been marked for destruction. Those who sallied forth
in armored cars to speed over the country, and play havoc with their
Maxim guns, found it necessary to revise their map of the district every
night so as to conform to the new changes that had been wrought.
It was hardly ten seconds after Merritt told them to keep a firm grip on
the bridles of their horses that the boys on looking back saw the bridge
suddenly rear itself in the air. Then came a terrifying boom that made
the very ground under their feet quiver; and, in a moment later, in
place of the fine bridge lay a horrible gap, from which smoke and dust
was arising in sickening clouds.
Tubby was as white as a sheet. The others could hear the big sigh with
which he drew in a gulp of air.
"I want to say right here," he started to remark solemnly, "that I'm
thankful I've got such a cracking good nose for queer odors. Think what
might have happened to us if I hadn't begun to sniff around, and made
Rob take notice. All that pile of stuff would have buried us out of
sight. And the horses knew, sure they did. That explains why they acted
so funny all the while. But isn't it a shame to see how they had to
smash that splendid bridge!"
"Don't forget that this is war, Tubby," Merritt told him, "and to hinder
the enemy from coming up, anything is allowable."
"But that's going to block our going on, I take it," ventured Tubby,
watching Anthony, who showed evidences of having been considerably
excited by the explosion, though Tubby could not tell whether it was
fear that influenced the man, or an overmastering desire to join the
army, and engage in some of this obstructive work himself.
"Oh! that doesn't follow," Rob assured him. "I noticed that the river
was shallow just now; and I imagined I could see the old ford that used
to answer before this bridge was ever thought of. We can get across
without swimming. You forded the Rio Grande once upon a time, Tubby, and
such a little bug stream as this shouldn't phase you a bit."
"Oh! count on me going wherever the rest of you lead," retorted Tubby,
with a blustering air, as though he did not want anyone to think him at
all timid.
"We might as well go back now," remarked Rob, "and see about getting
over. If the mine has been exploded, there shouldn't be any danger; I
want to try that ford."
It was found that though the bridge was wrecked pretty badly, the
greatest damage was to the span, and not so much to the anchorages or
piers. In time another arch could be built--should peace ever come to
this distracted land--when men would be able to once more "beat their
swords into ploughshares," and start to rebuilding what had been
destroyed.
"Follow after me," Rob told them, as he started to urge his horse across
where he could see the old ford had been.
Little of the material from the wrecked bridge had been thrown to any
distance, so the ford was not blocked. The horses still displayed more
or less restlessness, as though they could not understand that, with
such a smell of choking gases in the air, the danger was all over. The
three boys, however, had had considerable experience in handling balky
animals, and knew just how to urge them on.
Once on the other side, they started up the bank. As they arrived at the
road, having crossed the abyss, they saw a crowd of men hurrying toward
the spot. They were partly Belgian soldiers, it turned out, along with
some civilians, possibly men versed in explosives or strategy to be
employed to delay the advance of the German artillery.
Of course, they were very much excited at meeting the boys. The khaki
uniforms seemed to soften their anger to some extent, but one who
appeared to be in authority started to scold them for walking so
blindly into a trap.
Through the guide Rob hastened to explain how it came they had not
suspected the truth. Then as questions began to follow, he also told who
and what they were, even mentioning something concerning their
self-imposed mission into the danger zone of the fighting.
When the precious passport, written out by the good burgomaster, was
shown, it had an additional soothing effect. The man in charge of the
squad of destruction smiled and nodded as he perused the document,
written in French.
"He say burgomaster his uncle!" explained Antonio, after the other had
handed the paper back, and made some remark.
"Well, now, that's what I call fine. Tell him we're glad we got out from
under that bridge in time," said Rob, "and also that we think he made a
clean sweep of the job."
This seemed to please the Belgian officer, for he insisted on shaking
hands all around. Feeling that they were now free to proceed, the scouts
resumed their journey along the road that led to Brussels; probably,
wholly in the hands of the invaders further on toward the capital, since
rumor had it that immense numbers of German troops were daily being
moved toward Ghent.
"All of which only goes to show how necessary it is to be constantly on
the watch while you're in a country that's fighting for its life,"
Merritt remarked to his companions as they lost sight of the ruined
bridge.
"If only we had eyes in the back of our heads, we might get along a heap
better, I think," grumbled Tubby, as his horse awkwardly stumbled over
some small object, and gave him a shock.
"It was a close call, all right," acknowledged Merritt, "and has sobered
our guide a whole lot, I notice. He listens to every far-off boom now,
as though something might be drawing him. But the morning is wearing
away, so I suggest that we stop at the very first village we come to,
and see if we can beg, buy, or steal something to eat. I'm hungry as a
bear."
"Oh! bless you, Merritt, for those kind words!" called out Tubby. "I've
felt a vacuum down around my belt line for two hours back. Whoa!
there!" he added, as his horse stumbled again. "Want to break my neck,
you animated skeleton? He knocks his hoofs together every third step he
takes. No wonder they didn't grab him for the cavalry; he'd have fallen
all over himself in the first charge."
Coming to a little hamlet, the boys found a house where they could
secure something in the way of a lunch. Even at this early stage in the
war, however, prudent hotel keepers realized that times were going to be
hard, and that it would be the part of wisdom to conceal all the stores
possible against a rainy day, or the raids of such invaders who might be
billeted upon the villagers.
Here the boys remained between one and two hours, since the day was
unusually hot, and their mounts were not in the best of condition for
standing hard service.
Some of the good people had left for safer quarters, which would mean
Antwerp, of course,--deemed impossible of capture at that day on account
of its wonderful defenses. A group gathered in front of the little
hotel, and questioned Anthony as to who the three boys in the uniform of
scouts might be, and of the nature of their mission that tempted them to
invade a region being made desolate by war.
Anthony himself knew very little on that score; but since it would not
look well for him to admit this fact, it is possible he "drew the long
bow" to some extent. He may even have told all sorts of fairy stories
about the boys being English agents sent over to learn facts in
connection with the movements of the German army, so that a strong force
of the allies from across the Channel could be hastily dispatched to the
scene, and chase the haughty Germans back across the Rhine.
Some idea like this the boys found very prevalent all through their
journey. The Belgians seemed to believe the English were getting a
wonderful surprise ready with which to stagger the enemy. If they could
have only known how an army had to be built up step by step in the great
island country, they might have felt less confidence, and perhaps shown
more discretion in attacking the invaders.
Rob suspected something of this sort when he saw the way the villagers
observed him and two chums, staring at them as though they were
curiosities.
"Makes you feel like some punkins, to have all these people watch every
little thing you do, and get out of your way so quick when you go to
make a move, don't it?" remarked Tubby, evidently tickled over the
attention shown them.
"I don't just like it, to tell you the truth," admitted Merritt.
"Oh! you're too modest by half, Merritt!" jeered the fat scout.
"It isn't that, Tubby," explained the other. "Rob here says he believes
our guide is spreading the report that we're English messengers, sent
ahead to pick up news about the Germans, so they can be smashed when the
British army gets here."
"Well, what of that?" demanded his friend. "It isn't so _very_ dreadful
that I can see, to be mistaken for a Johnny Bull."
"You'll change your tune, my boy," Rob told him, "if the Germans should
come along and nab us. We'll soon see how you begin to roar out that
you're a Yankee, as true-blue as they make them."
"Oh! but they wouldn't know anything about that!" declared Tubby, though
showing signs of increasing dismay at the same time.
"You never can tell," he was told by Rob. "The ways of these smart
Germans are past finding out. They've got spies everywhere. Right now
there may be some secret sympathizer with the Fatherland in that bunch
close by, taking in all that silly Anthony has been saying."
"Gingersnaps and popguns!" gasped Tubby, "if that's really so I guess
we'd better muzzle our guide in a hurry. Where's he gone to, do you
think, Rob? It was all of half an hour ago that I saw him last, talking
to the crowd."
"I was wondering about that myself," said Merritt. "If we expect to be
getting along about this time, we ought to look Anthony up."
"You take a turn that way, and I'll step into the taproom of the inn, to
see if he is there," remarked Rob, who had a slight frown on his face
as he spoke, as if he might not be wholly satisfied with the way in
which their guide was acting.
Five minutes later Rob and Merritt joined Tubby at the same time.
"Nothing doing in my section," remarked Merritt, "except that I'm afraid
somebody has swiped one of our nags, for I could only count three horses
hitched there."
"Then, that settles it!" said Rob positively.
"Settles what?" piped up Tubby.
"Anthony has basely deserted us, and taken to the back road!" Rob told
them. "I feared as much from what the little inn proprietor let out; but
what you say clinches the thing. Our guide is a mile or more on the way
back to Antwerp by now!"