The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields
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Not once did any of the soldiers wander away. It was plainly evident that they were being given no liberties. Rob only hoped that the order would come for this corps to get on the move, and head to the southwest; for he did not doubt but they were meaning to go to Ghent, or to some other place toward the coast.
Several times Tubby was observed to crane his neck and look up toward the heavens anxiously. The others did not need to be told what those signs indicated. They knew very well that the fat chum had not become suddenly interested in astronomy, or expected an eclipse of the sun to happen. He was merely noting how far along his morning journey the sky king had traveled, because he could not forget how Rob had set a time limit on their remaining there.
Two hours he had mentioned as the sum total of their stay; when that boundary had been reached Rob was going to make some sort of pleasing proposition. Tubby hoped it would have to do with the procuring of a certain nourishment, of which all of them certainly stood in great need.
At last Rob gave signs of making a move.
"Now, if you fellows will come back along the road a little ways with me," he announced with a smile, "I've got something to propose. I only hope you fall in with my views, for then there's a chance that we'll have something to eat."
"Oh! you can count on me agreeing with you, Rob!" said Tubby cheerfully. "No matter whether it's fur, fin, or feather, I think I could do justice to nearly anything that grows."
"As it happens, it's something that doesn't fly or walk that I have in my mind," Rob declared rather mysteriously. "The fact is, it hops!"
"Now you have got me worse balled up than ever," protested Tubby, his brow wrinkled with his endeavor to guess the answer.
"I think I know," volunteered Merritt, grinning amicably.
"What does he mean, then? Please hurry and tell me," pleaded Tubby.
"Frogs, isn't it, Rob?" demanded the other.
"Oh! gingersnaps and popguns! Do I have to come down to choosing between eating jumpers and starving to death?" complained the fat boy, looking distressed.
"Well, wait till you get your first taste, that's all," Rob told him. "If you don't say it beats anything you ever took between your teeth, I'm mistaken, and that's all there is about it. Why, they're reckoned one of the fanciest dishes in all the high-class clubs in America, along with diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck, and such things. The only thing I'm afraid about is that after you get your first taste you'll want to hog the whole supply."
"But how shall we catch the frogs, and then cook them?" asked Merritt.
"The first ought to be easy," replied Rob, "seeing how plentiful they are, and how big and tame. I see a dandy piece of wood that would make a good bow with a piece of stout cord I've got in my pocket. Merritt, get some of those straight little canes, growing on the edge of the water. We can make them do for arrows, and, even without feathers, I think I can hit a big frog with one at ten paces away. It'll be fun as well as a profitable business. Frog-hunters, get busy now."
"Here's a long pole, Rob. Shall I take it and steal up close enough to whack a few of the jumpers on the head?" asked Tubby, now entering into the spirit of the game.
Being given permission, and warned not to make too big a noise, lest he frighten all the frogs into jumping, he set about his task. After several failures he finally brought one monstrous greenback frog to where the others were still working.
"I'll show you how to cut off the saddle, and skin the hind legs," said Rob.
Tubby did not altogether like this job. The slimy feeling of the frog rather went against his stomach. Still, after the large hind legs had been duly skinned, they presented so much the appearance of the white meat of a spring chicken that Tubby felt encouraged enough to set forth again.
He had four victims by the time Rob and Merritt pronounced the bow and arrow part of the business in readiness for work.
They kept at it steadily for an hour and more. Rob found considerable excitement and profit in his archery. His arrows could not be wholly depended on, for they were not properly balanced; but the distance was so short that he made numerous fatal shots.
Merritt, too, had secured another long pole, and joined Tubby in his share of the frog hunt. It was exciting enough, and with more or less delicious little thrills connected with it. No doubt the frogs must have enjoyed it immensely; but then, no one bothered asking what they thought of such tactics. A boy's hunger must be allayed, and, if there were only frogs handy, why so much the worse for the "hoppers."
"Whew! Don't you think we've got enough, Rob?" asked Tubby, unable to stand it any longer.
"What's the score?" asked the archer, as he tossed still another great big victim toward the spot where the fat scout had been counting the pile.
"Twenty-one, all told," replied Tubby. "That would mean seven for each. But how in the world can we cook them? I hope now you don't mean to tackle them raw? I love raw oysters, but I'd draw the line at frogs. I'm no cannibal."
"Well, let's find a place deeper in the woods, where we can make a fire out of selected dry wood that will make so little smoke it can't be noticed. That's an old Indian trick, you know. Hunters used to practice it away back in the time of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton. When they were in a hostile country they had to be mighty careful about making a smoke. I've tried it before, and believe I can pick out the right kind of fuel to use."
While the others were finishing the not very pleasant work of skinning the numerous frog saddles, Rob busied himself with making the fire in a secluded neck of the woods. In the midst of jutting stones he soon had a blaze going. It could not be seen twenty feet away, on account of the obstructions; and, as the proper kind of wood had been selected, there was no smoke to mention.
The boys would have given something for their well-remembered frying pan, just at that time, and some pieces of salt pork with which to sweeten the dainty morsels which were to constitute their luncheon. They were true scouts, however, and could make the best of a bad bargain.
"All hunters do not have skillets when they're in the woods," said Rob, as he took a long splinter he had prepared, thrust it into one of the saddles, and then, poking the other end into the ground close to the fire, allowed the meat to get the benefit of the heat. "We must do what we can in this old-fashioned way. The best sauce, after all, is hunger; and, from the look on Tubby's face, I reckon he's fairly wild to set his teeth in the first of the feast."
Pretty soon it was a lively scene, with all those forks having to be attended to. A tempting odor also began to rise up that made Tubby's mouth fairly water. He heaved many a sigh, as he waited for Rob to tell him that the first of his allotment was sufficiently browned to be devoured.
"Now, let's begin," said Rob finally. "Only look out not to burn your lips. And, Tubby, take my word for it, you're going to get the treat of your life!"
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE ARMORED CAR
"Honest, Rob, I never knew what I was missing when I said toasted frogs' legs would do for Frenchmen, but none for Merritt Crawford," and, while making this abject confession, the speaker allowed a look of sublime content to possess his features, such as would remove any lingering doubt concerning his sincerity.
"How about you, Tubby?" asked the master of ceremonies.
Tubby had been savagely tearing at his first helping. His eyes were glued on the various sticks under his charge, at the ends of which the rear portions of as many frogs were dangling, and turning a delicious brown under the influence of the heat.
Then Tubby was seen to heave a sigh.
"To think that there are only six more apiece!" he said in a most solemn tone. But the others laughed softly, because they knew any loud merriment, under such peculiar conditions, was hardly safe.
"That settles one thing," remarked Rob. "There's going to be a marked reduction in the profits of this particular frog-raiser this season, if Tubby has to stay here long."
Tubby was already commencing on his second batch. He could not waste time in talking when his appetite had been excited to a feverish pitch by the first bite of tender and succulent meat.
"Only thing I kick about," he presently mumbled, throwing away the slender bones which he had picked clean, "is that they go so quick. Why, you hardly get started before you're at the end."
"That's the way with nearly all good things," Merritt informed him. "Just as soon as they become so numerous that you can have all you want, somehow it seems as if the craving leaves you."
"Yes, I guess that's about it," admitted Tubby, talking only because the next batch of provender was not quite ready for disposal. "Anyhow, I've seen my mother just dote on a horrible little cucumber that dad brought home in January, paying about twenty cents for the same, and, when we have bushels of splendid ones in our own garden, why, nobody cares to eat them."
The little feast continued until everybody had cleaned up their mess. Tubby was disconsolate because the supply was so limited and the demand so great.
"How foolish we were not to double our catch," he said several times, "for there wouldn't have been any trouble about doing the same. One thing I've settled in my mind, I want to tell you."
"Well, go on, then, and explain," urged Merritt.
"I'll have one next summer, see if I don't," asserted Tubby.
"What – a feast of frogs' legs?" chuckled the other scout.
"Me? Only one show at the same? Well, when I like a thing, I rave over it. I want it every day. I mean to have a frog hatchery, and a pond where I can raise 'em by the million!"
"Listen to him, will you, Rob?" exclaimed Merritt, pretending to be horrified. "If ever there was a case where eyes were bigger than a stomach, it's right here. Millions of them, Tubby wants now; seven is only a flea-bite to him."
"Oh! shucks! don't make me out a hog!" remonstrated Tubby. "I didn't mean I expected to devour the whole lot. Why, can't you see there's good money in raising frogs? I'm going to get the figures, and find out just what the ratio of increase might reach. And my folks have got a dandy marsh on the old farm back near Huntington that we own. Rob, I thank you for opening my eyes to this grand opportunity. I expect it will be the turning point of my life yet."
They were used to hearing Tubby talk like this. He often became inspired with ambition, but, as time went on, the spirit died out, and something new took its place.
"You're letting the little fire die out, I notice, Rob," Merritt observed.
"Why, yes; we have no further use for it," he was told, "and there's always a small chance that some soldier would be sent this way on an errand, when he might get a whiff of the smoke, and take a notion to investigate. For one I'm not hankering to be sent a prisoner of war to some detention camp on the Rhine."
"And I'd feel pretty bad if my mission over here turned out a fizzle," said Merritt, "because my heart is set on getting that paper for Grandfather Crawford."
"I'm going to propose," Tubby projected, as though he could not tear his thoughts away from the one fascinating subject as long as the taste of his remarkable feast was still on his lips, "that we put in a couple of hours' more work getting a supply of these bouncing big frogs. If the Germans stay right there the rest of the day we want to lay in some provisions; and our choice is limited, you know, to this one thing."
"Of course we could do that," Rob informed him, "in case it was absolutely necessary; but I've got a hunch that there's going to be a movement of that army before sundown. If that happens, we can get away from here, and find some one to cook us a meal."
"Then you must have noticed signs that told they were beginning to get ready to go?" suggested Merritt.
"Which was just what I did," replied Rob. "I can hear certain sounds that tell me they have received the order they were expecting, and are breaking camp."
As all of them were anxious to learn whether this glorious possibility could be really true or not, they once more made their way back to the spot where their former vigil had taken place.
"Why, the whole army is in motion, seems like!" ejaculated Tubby.
"And a wonderful sight it is, at that," added Merritt. "They can say what they please about these German soldiers – and the Belgians feel they've got a right to call them all sorts of hard names, as barbarians and the like; but there never was such remarkable discipline in the history of the world. The huge army is like one vast machine. Men count only as necessary cogs. When one goes another takes its place, and the engine grinds on."
They crouched there and watched every operation from a safe distance. It seemed as though there was a never-ending procession of gray-coated figures, most of them with the spiked helmets on their heads, marching away in columns toward the southwest. Then came batteries of quick-firing guns, and heavier field pieces. The clattering of accouterments, the neighing of horses, and the hoarse singing of various regiments – all these things came floating on the breeze to the ears of the three lads, as they lay there in the afternoon sunshine and watched.
"They seem particularly fond of certain tunes," remarked Tubby, "and I know one is the German national air, 'The Watch on the Rhine,' because we've sung it many a time in the school at Hampton. What's that other they roar out, Rob?"
"I think it's a popular patriotic German air, called Deutschland ueber Alles, which means, of course, 'Germany Over All'," Rob obligingly replied.
"Oh! well, every country's sons believe they ought to have the first place in the sun; and I reckon we Americans have done a heap of boasting that way," Merritt remarked, which seemed to be about what Tubby thought, too.
So they lay there until the camp was entirely deserted. Never would those three scouts forget the spectacle to which they had been treated that day.
It was now along toward the middle of the afternoon. Far off in the distance somewhere, an action was certainly going on, for the grumble of heavy cannonading came almost constantly to their ears.
"Chances are," said Rob, as they prepared to vacate their refuge and once more push onward, "there's a fierce battle in progress, and this corps has received orders to get on the firing line. That would account for the way the troops were singing. Their business is to fight, and most of them are only happy when they can smell burnt powder, hear the crash of bursting shrapnel, and the heavy boom of big shells."
"We've seen one battle," observed Tubby with a shudder, "and for myself I'm not hankering after a second experience."
"I suppose in time we'd get used to such terrible things," Rob pursued in a reflective way, "for even the fellow who nearly swoons away in his first fight, they say, becomes a regular fire-eater after a while; but, so far as I'm concerned, I'll be a happy boy when I see good old peaceful Long Island again, with its sandy beaches, and the familiar things we love."
"We all will, Rob," remarked Tubby fervently, a yearning expression coming over his rosy face, as in imagination he again saw the home folks, and sat down to a table that fairly groaned with the good things he doted on.
"Yes, after I've carried out my mission I'll be just as glad to start back as either of you fellows," Merritt assured them.
The last of the Germans had disappeared from view when the boys started out. Rob was looking a bit serious, and the other noticed that he kept turning his eyes off toward the right, for it was in that direction the great host had gone.
"You don't expect they will turn back and give us trouble, do you, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing this frequent look.
"No; it isn't that," he was told, "but I'm wondering what a certain movement that I happened to notice could mean."
"Tell us about it, won't you, Rob?" Tubby implored. "It can't be that we have to take the same road that army marched away along, because we're heading in just the other quarter."
Before Rob could commence with his explanation they heard the sound of what appeared to be an automobile behind them. At the time they chanced to be at the foot of a slight elevation, which rose for perhaps twenty feet in a gradual ascent.
"Gingersnaps and popguns! Look what's bearing down on us, will you?" gasped Tubby.
"It's an armored automobile, as sure as anything!" added Merritt, "just like that car we saw in Antwerp, you know. Yes, I can see the muzzle of the deadly Maxim gun that's back of that metal shield. Rob, it's heading straight at us. What if they take us for Germans, and open fire?"
"Oh! for goodness' sake, let's wave a white flag to keep them from mowing us down like wheat!" exclaimed Tubby, commencing to fumble in his pocket.
"Hold up your hands to show that we have no arms!" ordered Rob, abruptly. "They are Belgians, and perhaps the same daring fellows we saw come into Antwerp with all sorts of spoils to show they had made a raid, and shot down their regular allotment of the enemy. Yes, wave the white bag, if you want, Tubby; we don't mean to take any chances."
"It's a hard thing to be shot down, and then have some one say they're sorry, and that they didn't know the gun was loaded," remarked Merritt.
The armored car slowed down as it approached. Those vigilant Belgians aboard were doubtless observing the three figures in khaki closely. Already they must have discovered that they were Boy Scouts. Possibly they more than half expected to find they were Belgian scouts, for such boys were being used as dispatch bearers all over the war zone.
"We are friends!" called out Rob, "American boys, who belong to the scouts over in our country, you understand? We have nothing to do with the war. Do any of you speak English? I can talk in French a little, if it's necessary."
The three Belgian soldiers laughed at that. Plainly they had been at a loss to place these three lads.
"I happen to be able to talk English very good," one of them called out, as the car stopped, "and we are glad to meet you. Americans are good friends of ours."
"Listen," said Rob impressively, "if you keep on the road you expect to take, so as to follow the German army corps, you will fall into an ambush inside of three minutes."
CHAPTER XXV.
TURNING THE TABLES
When Rob made this astonishing statement his two chums suddenly realized that this must be the matter he had been on the point of explaining to them when the armored car from Antwerp came tearing along the road in their rear like a modern war chariot.
The leader of the three Belgian soldiers, and who seemed to be a captain, looked incredulous. He repeated what Rob had said to his backers, in Flemish; and they, too, observed the scout with wondering eyes.
"This is a strange thing you are telling me, boy," remarked the captain. "How is it you know there is an ambuscade laid to catch us napping?"
"I will gladly explain," the Eagle Patrol leader hastened to say. "You see, we want to get to Sempst, and, as we helped the Red Cross on the battlefield yesterday, we were detained. Then we found that there was a German army camped right in our way. It moved off toward the front only an hour ago, and we have been hiding most of the day. But, while we were watching the troops depart, I was surprised to see a single gun taken into a patch of scrub on a little elevation that commands the road. It is pointed this way, and you can never notice it there unless you have been posted. Now I can guess what they are hiding for; they expect that you may be along, and mean to rid the German army of your stinging them so often!"
Tubby's mouth was wide open. He stared at Rob as though he hardly knew whether he were awake or asleep. Even Merritt seemed thrilled by what he had heard.
As for the Belgian captain, it was an incredulous look that gripped his features.
"I do not know what to believe, boy," he said, looking earnestly at Rob.
"The best way is to prove it," that worthy told him immediately.
"It would at least be convincing," the pilot of the armored car declared.
"Suppose, then," continued the scout, "you leave your car here at the foot of this little rise. They couldn't see us with that hump between. Go up the hill, and look along the road. You needn't let them see you, of course; but I notice that you've got a pair of field-glasses along. Follow the road with those until you come to a little break in the stone wall that lies around a patch of field on the right. It is this knoll I spoke of, crowned with brush. Watch that brush closely for a minute; perhaps you will see the sun glint from the gun; or else one of the hidden German gunners may move ever so slightly. That will tell the story, captain."
The pilot of the armored car jumped out.
"I will do as you say, at least it can be no harm," he remarked hastily.
After speaking in Flemish to his companions, he started up the rise, carrying the field-glasses and a revolver along with him. Watching, they saw him get down and crawl the last yard or so; and then evidently he found a way to level his glasses in the quarter under suspicion.
Five minutes later and he backed off, coming quickly down the little declivity. The first thing he did was to grip Rob's hand and squeeze it fiercely.
"I have to thank you for my life, and the lives of my brave comrades as well!" he said with fervor.
"Then you found that what I told you was exactly so?" Rob asked.
"Yes, there is an ambuscade," replied the soldier. "They must have suspected that we would chase after the army so as to pick up stragglers, because that is our favorite game these terrible days; anything to sting the snake that is crawling across our beloved country and leaving death and destruction behind."
"You will not go ahead after learning what is waiting there, I suppose, Captain?" Rob continued.
"Certainly not, my boy, because they have the range plotted out, and, when we reached a certain spot, one shot would blow the car and the three of us to pieces. Our play is to go around another way. But why have you done this for us, when you say, as Americans, you must be neutral?"
"I hardly know," replied Rob. "Up to lately we have not felt like favoring either side, because we have many good German friends at home. But what we have seen and heard here in Belgium is beginning to turn us to the side of the Allies. You see, I could not watch you rush right to your death, knowing what I did. Perhaps, if the tables had been turned I might have warned a German pilot to turn around before it was too late."
"Well, you have done us a great favor, and we thank you," said the Belgian soldier, with considerable feeling; after which he conversed with his two comrades for a minute or so, no doubt explaining what had awaited them close by; and that only for the timely warning of the Americans they would have been launched into eternity.
Then the car was turned around, and away the three dashing Belgians sped. The last the boys saw of them was when they waved their hands back ere vanishing around a curve in the road.
"Well," said Tubby, "that was a splendid thing you did, Rob. And to think you noticed the Germans laying that cute little ambush there! It shows what training will do for a fellow, doesn't it?"
"It is only what every scout is supposed to do," replied Rob, thinking to impress a lesson on Tubby's mind. "Observe every little thing that happens, and draw your own conclusions from it. When I saw that gun going up into the field, I wondered what they meant by that. Then I saw they were laying a trap. I couldn't believe it was intended for us, and so I was puzzled, because we didn't expect to use that road at all."
"And when the armored car came whizzing along you knew the Germans meant to get the Belgians who had been doing so much damage day after day, as we'd heard; that was it, eh, Rob?" and Merritt nodded his head sagely, as though things were all as plain as anything to him now.
"Huh!" snorted Tubby, "after Columbus had cracked the end of the egg and stood it up, didn't those Spanish courtiers all say that was as easy as pie? Course we can see things after they've happened. But you and me, Merritt, had better be digging the scales off our eyes, so we can discover things for ourselves next time."