A DASH THROUGH THE NIGHT
Both boys were startled when they reached the open air again to observe
how the din of the battle to the east had increased. They paused for a
moment to stare at one another.
"That is real war," said Boris. "Not like the skirmish here when the
Cossacks came."
"The Germans are giving way on purpose, of course, if Ivan is right--and
it seems to me he must be," said Fred. "I am afraid to think of what
will happen to him."
"I do not like to think of it, either," said Boris, "but it is fate. He
has his work to do, and it is all for Russia--for God and the Czar! I
have always been taught that we can die only once, and that it is a holy
thing to die for Russia."
"Yes, but it is better to live for Russia than to die for her, if it is
possible," said Fred. "Come! We have no time to lose, I suppose."
They approached the car in a death-like silence. It was still where
Fred had left it. There was a little delay in the start. Both Fred and
Boris had driven cars, but they were not familiar with this one, and it
seemed a good idea to learn the controls before they started. But in a
few moments they were off. The car rode easily, and the motor was very
powerful. It was a silent one, too, considering its great power. Fred
took the wheel first.
"We can take it in turns," he said. "Get some sleep, if you can, Boris.
I'll rouse you if there is any need of that. And I'll be glad to rest
myself, after a time. Just now I'm too excited to sleep, even if there
were no especial reason for keeping awake."
There was something so wonderful, so weird that it was almost ghostly,
about that ride in its beginning. Behind them was the din of the heavy
fighting between them and Gumbinnen. The sky was streaked with the
flashes of searchlights, and the vibration of the cannon beat against
their ears incessantly. Yet the road before them, as it lay like a
white ribbon in the path of the great headlight, was absolutely empty.
They passed houses, went through villages. And in none of the houses was
there a light or a sign of life. The whole countryside had been
abandoned.
"It reminds me of things I've read about the plague in olden times,"
thought Fred. "People used to run away like that then, and leave a dead
countryside behind them. It would almost look more natural if there were
signs of fighting."
There were to be plenty all about here soon. But that night there was
nothing, save the inferno of noise and the dazzling points of light in
the sky behind them, to suggest anything save the deepest peace. Grain
stood in some of the fields. In others, where the harvesting had begun,
there were reaping machines. But despite the noise, there was a strange
and unearthly silence. Fred had driven at night through lonely country
before, and he could remember the way dogs at almost every house had
burst into furious barking as the car approached. Now there were no
dogs! It was a trifling thing to think of now, but just then it seemed
to Fred that the absence of the dogs meant even more than the dark,
silent houses themselves.
The houses did look as if their owners might be asleep within, but the
dogs would have barked their alarm. And so that came to be the symbol of
the flight of the people to him.
They had many miles to go. After a couple of hours Fred changed seats
with Boris, and for a time dozed, though he scarcely slept. However, he
did get a good rest, and when they came near to the stretch of road that
Ivan had told them would mark the crisis of the trip, both boys were in
good condition for the test. They slowed down at the sound of an
engine's whistle, the first nearby noise that had come to their ears
since they had left the parsonage. It startled them tremendously at
first, but then they remembered Ivan's warning.
"There is one place where, for about four miles, the road runs very
close to the railway," he had said. "The Germans will have patrols all
along the railway line, but there is no reason why they should pay any
attention to you. Be watchful--that is the vital thing. And especially
so when you begin to descend a long hill. At the bottom of that hill the
railway crosses your road, and that culvert will be watched with
especial care. After that you will find the way clear, for our nearest
outposts should not be more than a mile or so beyond the railway there.
We would have seized the line before, except that until we had
straightened our front in that quarter it would have been useless to do
it."
The whistle that they heard warned them that they were getting near to
this dangerous stretch of road, and in a few moments the sight of a
train, sparks flying from the smokestack of the engine, gave them visual
proof as well. Then for a time they ran along parallel with the tracks.
Fires were burning along the railway at intervals of about a hundred and
fifty yards, and at times, in the firelight, they could see a dark
figure moving slowly.
"Heaven knows what this bugle means!" said Fred, as they drew into line
with the tracks. "But if we sound it they may make up their minds that
we're all right--and I'm not anxious for them to get curious about us."
So he sounded the bugle from time to time. They aroused no curiosity.
Plainly these sentries thought there was nothing strange about the
passage of a military automobile, nor, in fact, was there. It was not
likely that they would know enough of the general disposition of the
German army to speculate as to what officers might be doing hereabout.
"Here we are! We're beginning to dip," said Boris, after a time. "The
culvert Ivan spoke of must be at the bottom of this hill. The road gets
away from the railway again after that, and when we have passed there we
ought to be all right."
"There's just one thing," said Fred, with a frown. "They must know just
as well as Ivan that the Russian outposts lie not far beyond them. Won't
they think it strange for us to be going full speed toward the Russian
lines this way?"
"No. I think that's easily accounted for, Fred. There is a crossroad
less than half a mile beyond that culvert. They will suppose that we
mean to take the turn. Ivan would have thought of that, I'm sure, if
there had been any danger that they would not expect us to be traveling
on this road."
"I guess you're right, Boris. It sounds reasonable. And anyway, if there
is a chance, we've got to take it. I'm certainly not going to hesitate
just for that after we've come as far as this. We'll soon know because,
as you say, once we're past that culvert, we'll be safe. That's the
crucial spot."
The grade grew sharper as they descended, and the pace of the car
increased. Now, at the bottom, stretching across the white road, they
could see a heavy shadow and above on what was unquestionably the
railway, half a dozen lights.
"They've got more than a sentry there. It seems to be a regular post,"
said Fred, a little nervous, as they approached. "I'd like to slow down
here--we're taking this hill pretty fast."
"Yes," agreed Boris, who was driving. "But it's not just the time to
slow down, is it?"
"Hardly. We've got to shoot under there so fast that they won't have a
chance to find out too much about us. The headlight will help us, too.
It ought to dazzle them so that they won't be able to see into the car
at all. As soon as we're close to them, I'm going to sound the bugle
pretty steadily."
They rushed on toward the culvert faster and faster. The powerful
headlight illuminated the scene before them, and they could see a dozen
or more dark figures. And as they came closer, they saw that several men
were looking at them, trying to shade their eyes with their hands.
Fred sounded the bugle steadily now, and saw that this seemed to relieve
the watchers. For the first time he took his eyes from the culvert
itself and looked around. The road here descended much more steeply than
the railway, and that, Fred judged, was the reason for the culvert. For
the first time he realized that the culvert was not quite at the bottom
of the hill; that beyond it the road still bore downward quite sharply
for a space, until it turned. It was plain to him that there were more
dangers ahead than those represented by the soldiers on the culvert.
The pace of the rushing car was faster now than would have been
altogether comfortable had they been on a road they knew perfectly.
Here, with a curve just ahead that was an unknown quantity, there was
real danger in the sheer speed of the machine. Heavy as the car was, it
lurched and swayed from side to side. And simply to shut off the power
would not have been enough. Moreover, that was something both of them
would have feared to do. The slightest mischance, the most trifling
circumstance, might arouse suspicion in the watchers on the culvert. It
was necessary, and Ivan had warned them specially of this, to dash under
that at the highest possible speed for there would be stationed not
private soldiers alone, who would be likely to take it for granted that
an officer's coat and helmet meant that all was well, but an officer as
well.
And an officer would be curious as to the meaning of this solitary car,
rushing over a road that had been deserted, in all probability, for at
least two days. No, there could be no slowing down, even had the fearful
grade made it possible.
Then they flashed into the shadow. For just a moment, before they were
actually under the culvert, Fred, looking up, saw the white faces of
those above, staring curiously. Then he lowered his head, for he knew
that his face and Boris's gave the lie to their helmets. Streaked with
dust they both were, to be sure. There had been a mist in the low-lying
country through which they had come, and the flying dust of the higher,
drier parts of the road had caked on their faces. But they were not the
faces of officers.
Fred thought he heard a shout as they passed under the culvert. But
shouts were not enough to check them. What they both feared was a
volley. And that, as they passed out and beyond the menace of the
culvert, did not come.
"Look back! See if they are looking after us!" cried Boris.
"No!" Fred shouted in his ear, for now the rush of the wind made it
difficult for them to hear anything. "The light is on us now--they might
see too plainly. And, if we were officers going as fast as this, there
would be no reason for us to look back--Oh! Look out!"
They had come to the turn. So great was their speed that they seemed to
reach it before they were well out from the shadow of the culvert, yet
they had traveled two hundred yards or more. There was nothing really to
frighten Fred as he cried out unless it was the sudden imminence of the
turn, which had seemed much further away when they had first seen it. It
was less what he saw than some indefinable thing he felt.
Whether Boris's hand was wavering or whether some hitherto unsuspected
weakness had developed in the machine, Fred could not tell. But he
seemed to sense somehow that all was not well. There was some break in
the rhythm of the car's movement that warned him.
Now they took the turn. Took it on two wheels--on one! For a moment it
seemed that they must upset. Then, by a miracle, the car righted itself.
For a moment it seemed about to straighten itself out and resume its
flight. And then, together, Fred and Boris saw what lay before them, and
Boris tried frantically to swing the car out. In the road lay the wreck
of a huge van.
It was too much for Boris. He did swerve the car, but it struck the
wreck. There was a deafening crash, and then they were hurled out onto
the turf by the roadside, while the motor roared and flames leaped out
over the wreck.