The Boy Scouts Afoot in France; or, With the Red Cross Corps at the Marne
CHAPTER VI
CAUGHT BETWEEN THE LINES
Concerning one thing, at least, there was no longer any doubt. They could plainly hear the deep grumble of big guns, while the very earth under them trembled perceptibly with the tremendous shock of the explosions that were miles away.
Undoubtedly the battle was on that must decide the fate of the gay French capital. Von Kluck and those other daring Teuton commanders were converging in toward Paris just as the spokes of a giant wheel draw closer as they approach the hub. If General Joffre, the veteran French leader, could manage through strategy to baffle their designs he would win such immortal fame as no man short of Napoleon had ever attained in the estimation of the French nation.
The boys hunted high and low for some means of transportation. Others were doing the same thing, white of face, as they listened to those dreadful sounds. For aught some of these people knew tens of thousands of Germans might be covering the roads in that section of the country where their beloved homes lay, and their hearts were filled with dire forebodings whenever they thought of the innocent ones toward whom they were endeavoring to hasten.
“We’re mighty lucky to get even this ricketty old rig!” Allan declared as Bumpus and Giraffe were mounting to seats in the wagon. “It’ll help us on our way some miles, and when the horse lays down on us, why we’ll be that much closer to Paris. Then walking is good in the bargain, you know.”
“Oh, I’ll agree to try anything you say, fellows!” Bumpus groaned, “if only it promises to help things along. We must manage to get there by hook or by crook.”
They were duly warned concerning the chances of meeting with detachments of the enemy while on the road; since it must be taken for granted that the moving army would have skirmishers and cavalry forces guarding its flanks, so that the French might not execute a brilliant flank attack and throw the main line into temporary confusion.
It was all very thrilling, especially when they could constantly hear the rumble of artillery far in the distance. The battle that this marked was being fought many miles away; but even at that, they had no reason to believe the country lying between would be free from the invaders.
To Bumpus their progress was terribly slow. True, the poor horse did his best under the lash that the peasant boy in the wooden sabots administered almost without cessation; but at that it seemed a snail’s pace to the impatient boy.
Giraffe advised him to get out and run ahead if he felt that way.
“Time enough to do that when I have to,” Bumpus retorted. “I’m saving myself for an emergency. And from the way this crowbait keeps stumbling along I reckon it’s going to come to a case of shank’s mare right soon with us.”
Thad, however, was bent on keeping their seats just as long as they could. There would be plenty of time for walking when they were forced to that extremity. And he had found other things to attract his attention in the bargain.
Once, when they chanced to be passing over a little rise, he discovered a moving mass of men a couple of miles away. The sun glinted from their accoutrements and disclosed the fact that they must be marching soldiers. When he called the attention of the others to that particular quarter Giraffe, who had extra strong eyesight, immediately declared they were German soldiers without doubt.
“I could tell the French blue right away if I saw it,” he said. “Those men are wearing a sort of greenish-gray uniform, the same as we saw on the Germans up in Belgium when we were trying to make Antwerp. Yes, and they’ve got those odd spiked helmets on that only the Germans fancy.”
The alarming fact that they were now so very close to the oncoming invading army gave them all a new thrill. Even the peasant boy stared at the vision, and looked as though almost heart-broken; for he had doubtless heard terrible stories connected with that other raid through his beloved France, long before he was born, and, of course, he could only fear the worst.
As their road seemed to turn somewhat toward the south just there the boys determined to go on, trusting to luck to see them through. At the worst, if they did come in contact with any troop of raiding Uhlans, they could fall back on the fact of being Americans, and perhaps manage to pass muster.
Among themselves they talked it over as the boy continued to beat the horse and cause him to keep jogging along the winding road. It was soon decided that the moving stream of men they had glimpsed could not belong to the corps that was engaged so fiercely in battle with the Allies defending the approaches to Paris. They must be another section entirely, heading so as to attack the forts around Paris from the west. And it turned out later on just as they had figured, so that the boys could plume themselves on their sagacity.
Just a quarter of an hour afterward Giraffe uttered a cry.
“What’s this I see away over yonder, fellows?” he called out, pointing as he spoke. “Another army in motion and heading so as to come smack up against those chaps in the gray-green uniforms. But say, these troops are in the French blue. Bully for them, they are meaning to make it hot for the Kaiser when he tries to sneak into Paris by the back door. It’s true some of my folks did come from that same Rhine country a long while ago, but now I’m backing the under dog in the fight, and somehow my sympathies seem to be with poor France.”
“But see here, how about us?” ejaculated Bumpus. “Suppose those two armies get to smashing away at each other and with four boys caught between the lines? If that happens, wouldn’t we be apt to find ourselves in a pickle enough? I guess we’d better be looking around for a hiding place. And a deep cyclone cellar’d just about suit me right now.”
“We couldn’t go back if we wanted to,” announced Thad, decisively, “because the Germans must have swarmed across the road a few miles over there where we came from. And so far as I can see, there isn’t much chance of our hiding around here.”
The horse was showing positive signs of giving out. Indeed, the peasant boy had used his whip up in urging the beast on, and, moreover, he could hardly lift his own arm to ply it any longer.
Seeing this, Thad decided that the critical moment had come. They must abandon the wagon and most of their luggage, which latter happened to be exceedingly limited, for by degrees they had gotten rid of most of their things ere this.
When necessity drives there is no use complaining, and these scouts had been through so much in the time they were comrades that by now they could meet an emergency without a grumble. Even Bumpus refrained from complaining. He knew Thad could be depended on to do the very best for them. There must always be a way out of a difficulty if only a fellow was smart enough to find it; and Thad had that happy faculty highly developed.
So they paid off the peasant boy and advised him to start back toward home, even though he might be detained a long time on the road. Once they found themselves afoot again the four boys started off bravely, each carrying a share of what luggage they wished to keep, if it could be managed.
The one hope they hugged to their hearts was that they might come in contact with the advancing French forces rather than be overwhelmed by the Germans. In case the former came about they had arranged their plan of action, meaning to ask only the liberty of keeping on toward Paris, skirting the crowded road and making progress toward their destination.
It struck Thad that the noise of the cannon had grown much louder. This would appear to indicate that the range of the battle must be spreading; also, that it was coming nearer and nearer all the time as fresh detachments took up the fight.
Giraffe sniffed now and then, very much like a war-horse scenting battle-smoke.
“And it certainly does smell like burnt powder, believe me, fellows,” he told his chums. “You can see that the breeze sets from that direction, which is why we hear the guns so plainly. Whee! but there must be heaps of exciting events happening right now, and I’d give something to be able to glimpse the same.”
Strange to say, the others were feeling more or less in the same mood. It must be in the blood for human beings to wish to gaze upon terrible scenes of carnage and valor; for no one had before this ever accused either Thad or Allan of being the possessor of a blood-thirsty spirit. They just realized that history was being made close to them, and that scenes were being enacted every hour that would in future days be immortalized by some skilful painter with his brush. And they were, after all, boys with inquiring minds, as well as having a fair amount of curiosity in their make-up.
It must have been a great temptation, and they surrendered to its wiles. Besides, there was really nothing for them but to either go on or stand still; and no matter which they decided to do, the end would likely be the same. If they were caught between the lines they could hardly expect to get out of the jaws of the trap without seeing something of the conflict that hung in the balance.
“Oh!” suddenly exclaimed Bumpus when there came a peculiarly sharp crash not more than half a mile away from them; “was that an exploding shell, do you think?”
“Just what it was,” asserted Giraffe promptly. “Which shows that things are closing in on us right smart, as our Southern chum, Bob White Quail, would say if he was along now. And, what’s more, we’ll be hearing a lot of the same before we get out of this neck of the woods.”
Bumpus had reason for looking worried. He knew what a terrible amount of damage an exploding shell might accomplish, even when it came from only an ordinary field battery, and he had no wish to offer his pudgy form as a target for the gunner.
They hurried along the road, hoping every minute that a turn would disclose the presence of men in the French blue. A second crash did not make Bumpus feel any more cheerful, especially since this detonation came from still another quarter.
“Do you suppose they’ve glimpsed us and are trying to drop one of those horrible shells right in our midst?” he asked Thad.
Before the scout leader could make any reply there was a sudden wild burst of cannonading from a point close by. Thad guessed the truth at once as if by some instinct. Evidently there must be an advanced French field battery secreted in the region, where it commanded the road over which the Germans were thronging, and this had commenced action. Those several German shells had been dropped just to disclose the position of this battery; its presence being suspected, thanks to some air scout who had passed over previously and communicated the facts to the invading general.
A tremendous din quickly broke out. Guns were fired by the dozen, and the crash of bursting bombs almost deafened the four hurrying boys.
They had good reason to hasten their steps, for to the right and to the left the shells exploded. One tore a great hole in the roadway not a hundred yards in front of them, causing the stones and dirt to fly in every direction.
It was almost impossible to know which way to turn, and as for finding a place of refuge, that was utterly out of the question. There did not seem to be a rod of territory that those searching shells might not fall upon. One place was just as safe as another, since it was all a matter of luck. So Thad kept them on the move, huddled in as small a compass as possible, with the idea of presenting as minute a target to the rain of bombs as they could.
“Listen!” yelled Giraffe as they ran along, with Bumpus puffing like a winded horse dragging a load up hill, “they’re coming right now—the French battery, I mean. Got too hot for ’em where they were, and they’re on the jump for safer quarters. Thad, if we get half a chance, let’s try to hook on to some ammunition caisson! Anything to give those shells the slip! And there the guns come with a whirl!”