CHAPTER XXV.

THE SCOUTS' CAMP FIRE.

It was certainly pretty lively while it lasted. Giraffe, who liked excitement must have felt quite in his element when turning the tables on those plotting Belgian boys who had figured in taking their car away from them, so as to offer it to the Government, just then so sadly in need of transportation facilities.

However laudable their ambition may have been Thad and his three friends were determined that they would block the game. With this purpose in view they commenced to spring a pretty surprise on their assailants.

The three who wielded the whips started to flay the legs of the ambushing force, and immediately the shouts that had been intended to intimidate the scouts began to change their tune and become yells.

Giraffe, too, was swinging that club with his old-time vigor. True, he had no particular animosity against these native boys who thought they were only doing a patriotic duty; but Giraffe believed he had a right to fight for his property, and he claimed a quarter interest in that car, miserable affair though it was.

Had the Belgian boys been equipped with the same type of weapons as Thad and his chums it might have been a longer battle, for they would probably given as good as they took. Since the advantage was all on one side, save in numbers, the end was a foregone conclusion.

Some of the astonished boys started to run, then came back and took a second generous dose, before concluding that the game was up.

A signal was finally given which must have been the recall, for immediately the wielders of the whips and the club found their occupation gone, since their adversaries had retreated in hot haste.

Thad saw that they darted into the brush, and suspected their main object was to secure some sort of fighting material for themselves, after which they would likely return to the attack.

He did not want any more of that rough and tumble sort of scramble if it could be avoided; and a quick "getaway" was the one thing needful in such a case.

"Clear the road!" he called out, suiting his actions to his words by jumping forward to seize hold of the log, which with a few adroit turns he sent spinning into the ditch.

The others hastened to do their share, and in less time than it takes to tell it a passage had been made through the barricade.

"That's enough!" called Thad, giving his orders with the precision of a military commander; "now get aboard, for we're going to start off!"

Bumpus had been expecting something like this. Knowing his faculty for lagging he was already "legging" it for the car when Thad spoke. Thus he managed to clamber aboard in good time, and fall on his knees inside the tonneau of the car.

Giraffe came flying after him, landing almost on his back; but a little thing like that was not to be noticed when the main object had been accomplished. They had managed to get rid of their tormentors for the time being, and this gave Thad a chance to start the engine.

There was fortunately no need of cranking, and hardly had Allan clutched hold of the car to swing himself aboard when it was moving off.

"Duck your heads, everybody; they're going to bombard us with stones!" shouted Giraffe, as a missile struck the back of the car with a bang.

Several came aboard, and one by some freak of fortune took Bumpus square in the back, causing him to give a loud grunt, though he declared it was nothing to bother about.

The fusillade continued until the car, increasing its momentum, managed to draw so far away that the stones fell short. When this became a certainty Giraffe, looking back, told them the Belgian boys had given up the pursuit.

"Ha! guess that was a case of the biter bitten!" said Giraffe, assuming all the airs of a victor expecting to be crowned with the laurel wreath; although if the question had been actually put to him he must have admitted that three other fellows had also had a "finger in the pie."

"We got out of the scrape better than I thought we would," said Bumpus, "when I saw how many of them there were. Giraffe, you're a good friend of mine, ain't you? Would you mind rubbing me in the middle of the back? Please not _quite_ so hard, for you see that rock gave me a bit of a clump there, and raised a knob, I guess."

"I'm wondering what's going to strike us next," ventured Allan; "for when you come to look at it we've been having some of the queerest adventures on this trip that ever could have happened."

Bumpus shook his head as though he might be ready to pass the puzzle along.

"It's too deep for me, Allan," he said. "I'd think we'd pretty nearly exhausted the whole list by now, but still there may be more coming. It's making me believe we're fated not to get through with this car, after all, and that we'll soon run up against a snag so big that it'll sink our craft."

"So long as we don't go down with it I won't kick," asserted Giraffe, who seemed to be feeling much more cheery since that last little exciting affair. "And Bumpus, after all what does it matter how you get to Antwerp so long as you pull up there sooner or later?"

"Oh! I'm getting reconciled to almost anything," admitted Bumpus, showing that this constant series of happenings was beginning to have an effect on even his stubborn nature, just as water dripping constantly will wear away a stone in the course of time.

Thus talking they moved speedily along the river road until finally Giraffe announced he had sighted the bridge over which they hoped to be able to cross the stream, and head once more for the big city on the Schelde.

There were some Belgian soldiers on guard here also, possibly older men who had not expected to go to the front, yet had a certain line of duty to perform in this the latest crisis of their beloved country's history.

Just as Thad expected they had to stop and give an account of themselves, as well as show their passports, and the letters with the American stamps. They were again lucky in having one of the Belgians able to talk with them, for it turned out that he had been in America, and even asked them how Hoboken was getting along.

Satisfied with being permitted to cross the bridge and pursue their journey the four scouts waved good-bye to the guards and started on.

"Well, that was a hard river to cross let me tell you," said Giraffe after they reached the other side. "Just stop and think how many times we've been knocked out of our calculations. There was the battle we saw that blocked us; then the bridge that had been fixed to trap some of the raiding Uhlans when they came galloping along, and tried to rush things; after that there was the one that was being built in the village, and which of course we couldn't use; and at last we struck oil up here, many miles out of our way."

"Seems to me we've been pushing backwards part of the time, Thad, instead of advancing," ventured Bumpus. "Makes me think of the boy who was late to school and told the teacher that every time he took a step forward he slipped back two; and when the teacher asked him how he ever managed to get there he said he just turned around and headed the other way; so mebbe that's what we're doing. Where do you figure we are now, Thad?"

"As near as I can find out," replied the scout leader, "we're not far from the town called Moll, which is on the railroad. There's a canal somewhere nearby, that swings around to the city of Turnhout, and then still on to Antwerp. I should say that we're not more than seven miles or so from the Dutch border."

"And how far from Antwerp?" asked Bumpus, anxiously.

"As the crow flies not more than thirty miles, perhaps," Thad explained; "but the way things are upset here in Belgium, that stands for hard sledding."

"Here's the canal right now, after we cross the railroad," ventured Giraffe, to whom it was all getting very interesting.

"But the sun is going down before a great while, you notice," said Bumpus, because they had been held up for nearly two hours while Thad tinkered with that horrible engine again, and deemed himself lucky to get it started even then.

"Yes, and as we've settled on staying outdoors to-night," said Allan, "let's be on the watch for a decent place to make camp."

"Just think of our having a chance to do that over here in Belgium, with battles going on all around us," Giraffe remarked. "We'll make those other scouts turn green with envy when we relate all our adventures on this trip. It was fine enough coming down the Rhine, but then nothing queer happened to us like we've been up against the last few days."

A short time later they struck what looked like an ideal place for stopping overnight. Just here there were no houses in sight, though of course the boys did not know what lay beyond, perhaps a village or a town. Belgium is so thickly populated that very little ground is allowed to remain idle, or be planted in trees, but just here there was a strip of woods that had a most inviting look.

So the car was run in and they started to make themselves comfortable, as scouts of long experience might be expected to do when surrounded by similar conditions.

"I hope that when we're just sitting down to supper, after cooking the same," Bumpus remarked, pensively, "some old gruff Belgian farmer doesn't come hurrying up, complaining because we've trespassed on his property, and making us clear out bag and baggage."

To Bumpus that represented the sum total of depravity; it meant a catastrophe without limit, and something to cause a shudder, even in the bare contemplation; for it meant hunger, and that was always a calamity in his eyes.

"Not much danger," Allan told him, "because you may have noticed I'm making this fire small, and out of extra-dry stuff. Scouts know that if you take green wood you'll always get a smoke that can be seen far off. That's what we use it for when we want to communicate by smoke signals. But Bumpus, if you were fifty feet away I don't think you could notice smoke from this wood."

"But I warrant you he could sense cooking going on, all right," Giraffe laughingly observed. "You never can fool Bumpus on that. He can scent an onion frying half a mile away, can't you, Bumpus?"

"I couldn't deny the soft impeachment, for I know I've got a splendid nose for grub," admitted the good-natured scout.

Although the means for cooking supper were somewhat primitive because these boys had always been accustomed to having a full kit along with them, still they knew how to manage. Consequently in good time, just as it was getting dusk, the meal was pronounced ready, and all of them gathered around to share in its disposal, a duty that no one ever complained of.

They were hungry, and somehow the familiar odors seemed to give an edge to their appetites that nothing else had done.

For a little while talking ceased, because every one was too busily engaged to bother making any remark. Then as the edge was taken off their appetites they commenced to exchange comments on the doings of that particular day, which could always be marked with a white stone in their memories.

Suddenly and without the slightest warning there came a terrific sneeze that startled them all. It came from the bushes close at hand, that much even Bumpus knew. Of course every eye was turned in that direction, being focussed on a certain spot where the bushes seemed to be moving.

As they stared, hardly knowing what to expect, there arose the lanky form of a man. He made no hostile move, but stood there looking at them; and Bumpus even fancied he was sniffing the air, just as a half-starved dog might, when approaching the spot where a feast was being devoured.

"Don't shoot, gents!" this singular being called out. "I'm not dangerous at all, only as hungry as a wolf. From what I've heard you saying I opine that you're American the same as myself; and I'm sure hoping you'll invite me up to join you in a snack."