Chapter 25

THE WINNING OF THE RIVER FORD.

Immediately there came a loud crash as the bomb exploded. The exhausted French soldier had no further strength to sustain him, for the boys saw him fall over as though he may have died in the climax of his success.

Then came the clear, piercing note of a bugle, like a clarion call. It was undoubtedly the signal for another attempt to force a passage of the river, so essential to the success of the French pursuit of the retiring German armies.

Again did a host of active figures leap into sight from the coverts where until now they had lain concealed awaiting the success or failure of the first action. These were no doubt the reserves intended to be thrown into the breach after some of the others had managed to get safely across and engaged the enemy forces. Now they were taking the initiative in pushing across the ford.

As the others had done these men also scattered when charging, so that no great collective damage might be wrought when the foe started to fire. They were speedily at the water's edge, and it was then that they anticipated meeting with that sudden avalanche of flame and smoke, and the roaring sound of many guns.

Somehow it did not come in the volume expected; in fact, while rifles and quick-firing guns started to take their toll the one offensive battery remained singularly silent.

Rod and Josh did not need to be told that the bold Frenchman must in some way have succeeded in disabling all the units of that battery when he hurled his bomb over the redoubt. Perhaps that terrific crash may have been an ammunition supply exploding and scattering the guns right and left.

No matter what the cause the battery was as still as death, a fact that must have filled the anxious heart of the French commander-in-chief with a fierce joy; for its presence there intact promised to make all his work of no avail, despite the unrivaled valor of his men.

This time the story was to be quite different, it seemed. Some of the leaders in that mad rush were already almost over, and here, there, everywhere they were trying to shoot back as they found a chance to glimpse an enemy hidden amidst the bushes on the bank of the river.

Josh could hardly contain himself. He jumped up and down "like a flea," as Hanky Panky afterwards explained it in his peculiar fashion. Indeed, to hear Josh letting out shrieks and cries one would have imagined the whole battle of the Marne ford had been staged for his particular benefit, and that he was enjoying the lively scene with all his heart.

Now some of the Frenchmen were crawling up the bank. They found shelter, such as it was, and immediately began to make good use of their guns, aiming so as to cut down those who were rattling the quick-firing weapons not far away.

More and more came up out of the depths, some of them wounded it was true, but with undiminished ardor hurrying on. With the climax of their ambition at hand and an opportunity for a fight at close quarters with the hated enemy granted to them, why should they mind such a small thing as a bullet in the shoulder, or it might be a leg that dragged as they walked?

The fire and enthusiasm that filled their hearts prevented them from falling out of the line. Some in fact would not know they had been injured until it was all over but the cheering, and a weakness began to overcome them, with the excitement on which they had been living having passed away.

Josh was waving his hat wildly now. Despite the noise and confusion he shouted out his views. In so doing he gave the "escape valve" something to do, and likely enough worked no harm.

"And to think it's all owing to the work of that one brave fellow!" was the burden of his outcries.

"I'm taking off my hat to _him_ right now. I salute him, living or dead! His family will be proud of him when they learn what a grand thing he really did. Talk to me about the Cross of the Legion of Honor; why, that man ought to be made a general--if he lives!"

The Germans had by no means given up, even when they realized that after all the French had won the passage of the ford. They had been given the task of defending the crossing with their lives, and showed the customary German disregard for death in staying after all was lost.

But more and more French were getting over now. They came from every quarter, all filled with ardor and a desire to get in the fight over there. The guns too were being brought closer to the river, so that the retreating Germans might be shelled warmly as they left the scene of their stubborn combat.

How they splashed across that shallow place in the stream Rod would never forget. Some, getting off the main ford, found themselves in water breast-high; others actually had to swim for it, holding their guns above their heads so that they might not get wet and refuse to continue the good work of chasing off the Germans.

It was an inspiring sight--of course only to those who favored the French, for to the enemy it must have proven a most discouraging one--to see those men wild to cross to where the engagement was being fought to a finish. Each one, as soon as he could set foot on solid ground, lost no time in starting up the bank and adding his quota to the force of the assailants.

And not one single shot had come from that important battery which, more than any other contributing cause, had brought about the first disaster to the French. There could be no question but what that one unknown private soldier, perhaps now dead, had saved the day for his side.

Luckily none of the Germans seemed to have paid any attention to the little assemblage of three figures in faded khaki on that slight rise of ground. At least no annoying shell had fallen near them, nor did the boys at any time catch the irritating whine of a whimpering leaden missile hastening past close to their ears. All of which pleased Rod very much, for he certainly felt no desire to mingle in such terrible scenes as had been spread before them of late.

Well, the end was in sight, for when the French field batteries began to let go it could be easily guessed that they were sending their compliments after that remnant of the enemy now sullenly retreating, and always with faces toward the foe.

Then came the shrill blast of bugles. This undoubtedly told the French soldiers that victory had fallen to their portion, and that the winning of the Marne ford was an accomplished fact.

Loud arose the huzzas of the survivors. Succor for the injured would quickly follow, since no pursuit was expected to be organized. The work to which they had been assigned was now accomplished, and against difficulties that might have frustrated all their efforts only for the one gallant man who made victory possible.

Rod and his chums cheered with the rest. They seemed somehow to feel that their hearts beat in full sympathy for those Frenchmen who were standing up in defense of their native land.

Josh, more demonstrative than either of his companions, went so far as to actually throw his arms around Hanky Panky and give him such a bear-like hug that the other's eyes almost popped from his head and his breath came in gasps.

"Let up on that sort of business, can't you, Josh!" he managed to cry indignantly as he broke away from the other's detaining clutch; "what do you take me for anyway? Must think you're doing one of the new fangled fox-trot hesitation dances. I've got feelings, I'd have you know; and my ribs are brittle bones in the bargain, not hoop-iron. Go hunt up a tree if you must exercise yourself on something. I object!"

Standing there on the rise of ground they could see the first of the French light batteries crossing the ford, the horses prancing, but forced to drag the guns through the shallow water. Later on heavier artillery would also be coming up to follow the fleeing German army, when the full importance of this ford would be better understood. No wonder the tactics of delay upon which the Germans were working had forced them to defend such a spot to the limit.

"What are we going to do next, Rod?" asked Josh, when they had stood and watched these events taking place for some little time.

"We'll have to hold off until they get things in ship-shape again," replied the other; "you see there are the wounded to attend to, the dead to gather and bury, it may be, as well as a lot of other matters to be looked after. They'll be in no hurry to chase after the enemy, I imagine. Their one object was to carry this crossing, and that they've done."

"But at a terrible cost to them," sighed Hanky Panky, as he saw the injured being carried to a central point, where doubtless the field surgeons would be on hand, ready to give them first attention; besides, there had been scores upon scores carried down the river whose fate could only be guessed at.

"That's always what war means, I'm afraid," remarked Rod, not that he himself was getting hardened by seeing such sights, but because he had a broader vision than Hanky Panky, and could anticipate what would follow when two hostile forces came in contact at close quarters.

"If that was Andre's regiment that went in at the first," observed Josh gloomily, "I'm mighty much afraid we're going to have all our trouble for our pains; because they were almost wiped out. Andre is pretty sure to have been among those who were in the water when that battery got in its heavy work, and--well, the current carried away many a gallant fellow, never to give him up again."

"Oh! it's hardly as bad as that, Josh," remonstrated Rod; "a good many managed to get back again, either wounded or whole. If we're lucky we may find Andre among that lot. We'll hope to, anyway; and our business will then soon be over."

"Well, for one I hope and pray we're able to turn our backs on this thing before another sun sets," said Hanky Panky, with such a sad look on his face that Rod was quite sorry they had been tempted to follow up this adventure.

Still, they had risked their lives in a good cause, and if only that little French woman Jeanne and her family could be provided for in the future, despite the schemings of Jules Baggott, he for one would not feel tempted to complain on account of perils undergone and risks taken.

"Most of the French have crossed over by now, you notice, Rod," observed Josh, when some time had crept past, and he could hardly restrain his customary impatience any longer.

"And that means you think we should be getting a move on too?" laughed the other, trying to raise the drooping spirits of Hanky Panky by an assumption of levity which truth to tell Rod was himself far from feeling.

"Well, it seems like we must make the crossing some way or other, and while one of those gun caissons we see coming along is going to get over why not find out if they'd let us climb aboard? It'll save us from getting our feet wet even if it did nothing else."

"That isn't a bad idea, Josh," commented Rod, "and it might be just as well to try it out. These Frenchmen are pretty accommodating, and they'll like as not take us for British boys, as has happened so many times before."

Another troop accompanied by a battery had come up and was starting to reach the northern side of the Marne, so as to presently continue the chase after the retreating enemy. It was to the ammunition caissons belonging to this battery that Josh had referred.

The boys hurried forward now. No one thought to question their right to be present. Perhaps this was because of their looks, or the khaki suits they wore, which would be taken for British uniforms. Indeed, quite a number of those who were seated on gun carriage or ammunition chest waved to them in the hearty and friendly fashion known to soldiers after a victory has thrilled their blood, making them light-hearted and gay.