John Goldfrap - The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields

"Oh! that doesn't follow," Rob assured him. "I noticed that the river was shallow just now; and I imagined I could see the old ford that used to answer before this bridge was ever thought of. We can get across without swimming. You forded the Rio Grande once upon a time, Tubby, and such a little bug stream as this shouldn't phase you a bit."

"Oh! count on me going wherever the rest of you lead," retorted Tubby, with a blustering air, as though he did not want anyone to think him at all timid.

"We might as well go back now," remarked Rob, "and see about getting over. If the mine has been exploded, there shouldn't be any danger; I want to try that ford."

It was found that though the bridge was wrecked pretty badly, the greatest damage was to the span, and not so much to the anchorages or piers. In time another arch could be built – should peace ever come to this distracted land – when men would be able to once more "beat their swords into ploughshares," and start to rebuilding what had been destroyed.

"Follow after me," Rob told them, as he started to urge his horse across where he could see the old ford had been.

Little of the material from the wrecked bridge had been thrown to any distance, so the ford was not blocked. The horses still displayed more or less restlessness, as though they could not understand that, with such a smell of choking gases in the air, the danger was all over. The three boys, however, had had considerable experience in handling balky animals, and knew just how to urge them on.

Once on the other side, they started up the bank. As they arrived at the road, having crossed the abyss, they saw a crowd of men hurrying toward the spot. They were partly Belgian soldiers, it turned out, along with some civilians, possibly men versed in explosives or strategy to be employed to delay the advance of the German artillery.

Of course, they were very much excited at meeting the boys. The khaki uniforms seemed to soften their anger to some extent, but one who appeared to be in authority started to scold them for walking so blindly into a trap.

Through the guide Rob hastened to explain how it came they had not suspected the truth. Then as questions began to follow, he also told who and what they were, even mentioning something concerning their self-imposed mission into the danger zone of the fighting.

When the precious passport, written out by the good burgomaster, was shown, it had an additional soothing effect. The man in charge of the squad of destruction smiled and nodded as he perused the document, written in French.

"He say burgomaster his uncle!" explained Antonio, after the other had handed the paper back, and made some remark.

"Well, now, that's what I call fine. Tell him we're glad we got out from under that bridge in time," said Rob, "and also that we think he made a clean sweep of the job."

This seemed to please the Belgian officer, for he insisted on shaking hands all around. Feeling that they were now free to proceed, the scouts resumed their journey along the road that led to Brussels; probably, wholly in the hands of the invaders further on toward the capital, since rumor had it that immense numbers of German troops were daily being moved toward Ghent.

"All of which only goes to show how necessary it is to be constantly on the watch while you're in a country that's fighting for its life," Merritt remarked to his companions as they lost sight of the ruined bridge.

"If only we had eyes in the back of our heads, we might get along a heap better, I think," grumbled Tubby, as his horse awkwardly stumbled over some small object, and gave him a shock.

"It was a close call, all right," acknowledged Merritt, "and has sobered our guide a whole lot, I notice. He listens to every far-off boom now, as though something might be drawing him. But the morning is wearing away, so I suggest that we stop at the very first village we come to, and see if we can beg, buy, or steal something to eat. I'm hungry as a bear."

"Oh! bless you, Merritt, for those kind words!" called out Tubby. "I've felt a vacuum down around my belt line for two hours back. Whoa! there!" he added, as his horse stumbled again. "Want to break my neck, you animated skeleton? He knocks his hoofs together every third step he takes. No wonder they didn't grab him for the cavalry; he'd have fallen all over himself in the first charge."

Coming to a little hamlet, the boys found a house where they could secure something in the way of a lunch. Even at this early stage in the war, however, prudent hotel keepers realized that times were going to be hard, and that it would be the part of wisdom to conceal all the stores possible against a rainy day, or the raids of such invaders who might be billeted upon the villagers.

Here the boys remained between one and two hours, since the day was unusually hot, and their mounts were not in the best of condition for standing hard service.

Some of the good people had left for safer quarters, which would mean Antwerp, of course, – deemed impossible of capture at that day on account of its wonderful defenses. A group gathered in front of the little hotel, and questioned Anthony as to who the three boys in the uniform of scouts might be, and of the nature of their mission that tempted them to invade a region being made desolate by war.

Anthony himself knew very little on that score; but since it would not look well for him to admit this fact, it is possible he "drew the long bow" to some extent. He may even have told all sorts of fairy stories about the boys being English agents sent over to learn facts in connection with the movements of the German army, so that a strong force of the allies from across the Channel could be hastily dispatched to the scene, and chase the haughty Germans back across the Rhine.

Some idea like this the boys found very prevalent all through their journey. The Belgians seemed to believe the English were getting a wonderful surprise ready with which to stagger the enemy. If they could have only known how an army had to be built up step by step in the great island country, they might have felt less confidence, and perhaps shown more discretion in attacking the invaders.

Rob suspected something of this sort when he saw the way the villagers observed him and two chums, staring at them as though they were curiosities.

"Makes you feel like some punkins, to have all these people watch every little thing you do, and get out of your way so quick when you go to make a move, don't it?" remarked Tubby, evidently tickled over the attention shown them.

"I don't just like it, to tell you the truth," admitted Merritt.

"Oh! you're too modest by half, Merritt!" jeered the fat scout.

"It isn't that, Tubby," explained the other. "Rob here says he believes our guide is spreading the report that we're English messengers, sent ahead to pick up news about the Germans, so they can be smashed when the British army gets here."

"Well, what of that?" demanded his friend. "It isn't so very dreadful that I can see, to be mistaken for a Johnny Bull."

"You'll change your tune, my boy," Rob told him, "if the Germans should come along and nab us. We'll soon see how you begin to roar out that you're a Yankee, as true-blue as they make them."

"Oh! but they wouldn't know anything about that!" declared Tubby, though showing signs of increasing dismay at the same time.

"You never can tell," he was told by Rob. "The ways of these smart Germans are past finding out. They've got spies everywhere. Right now there may be some secret sympathizer with the Fatherland in that bunch close by, taking in all that silly Anthony has been saying."

"Gingersnaps and popguns!" gasped Tubby, "if that's really so I guess we'd better muzzle our guide in a hurry. Where's he gone to, do you think, Rob? It was all of half an hour ago that I saw him last, talking to the crowd."