CHAPTER XX.
THE ADVANCE.
The shrill, clear voice of a single bugle broke the stillness of the early morning. There was a second of intense silence, and the call came again. A second took it up, and a third, and many more, each less distinct than the first, for they were farther away.
Hal, Chester, Uncle John and Anthony Stubbs, three of them accustomed as they were to the life of the military camps, were upon their feet almost before the sound of the first bugle had died away, and strained their ears to catch a repetition.
They had spent the night in a large tent assigned them by Colonel Anderson, not far from his own quarters, and had retired completely exhausted as the result of the strenuous time they had gone through. But they were all perfectly wide awake now and rushed from their tent with the sound of the second call.
"A call to arms!" exclaimed Hal.
"Probably means an advance," said Chester quietly.
"I guess you are right," returned his chum. "And here we are, nothing but spectators at the best."
"And that's where you are lucky," chimed in Stubbs. "Now take me, I've got to get out among all this fighting and maybe I'll be killed. But I've got to do it. You fellows can stay here where it is perfectly safe."
"Well, I'd much rather be in your place, then," said Chester.
"Same here," declared Hal.
The Italian camp had sprung to life as if by magic. Half-clothed sleepers poured from the tents and formed into ranks in the darkness. Officers ran hither and thither shouting hoarse orders. For a moment confusion reigned, but this gave place almost immediately to perfect order. The discipline of the Italian troops was remarkable. In almost less time than it takes to tell it, the whole Italian army of the North, stretching out as it did for mile after mile and mile after mile, was under arms, eagerly awaiting the word that would send it against the strongly entrenched Austrian columns ahead.
Less than a hundred rods away Hal made out the form of Colonel Anderson, as he now stood at the head of his men; gazing steadily ahead except when he turned to give an order to one of his subordinates. Far back, just distinguishable in the now half light, could be seen the dense masses of cavalry, unmounted as yet, but ready to leap to the saddle and dash forward at command.
A gun boomed, shattering the almost oppressive stillness. Another followed suit. More took up the work and the air was filled with their thundering. It became apparent to Hal and Chester, to whom this was nothing new, that the infantry would make the first advance, under the support of the artillery.
"A good-sized job, if you ask me," declared the latter.
"Rather," replied Hal dryly. "Hey," breaking off suddenly, "where are you going?"
"To the front," replied Stubbs, to whom the lad had addressed his remark, pausing for a moment and glancing back over his shoulder. "Got to get a little news, you know."
"You'd better look out or you are likely to get a little bullet," remarked Uncle John.
"Well, I'll have to take a chance," replied the little man.
With a wave of his hand he disappeared in the darkness.
"Forward!" came a clear voice from their rear.
Came the heavy tramp, tramp of marching feet, as the First Infantry moved forward. Steadily they marched ahead, silently and with an air of determination. They made an imposing appearance in the dim light of early morning.
"A gallant body of men," muttered Hal. "They'll give a good account of themselves."
Came a word of command from Colonel Anderson—the boys recognized his voice—and more troops moved forward. As far as the eye could see dense masses of men were marching rapidly toward the front. It became apparent that this was to be no mere skirmish—no mere feeling-out process. It was to be a battle, and as both lads realized, it might well last for days.
"We may as well go forward a bit," said Hal.
Accordingly the three started out. Half an hour later they were suddenly surrounded by a body of infantry, and, in some unaccountable manner, were separated from Uncle John. In vain they looked, called and whistled for him. He had disappeared.
"Well, I guess he will be able to find the way back," said Chester. "We'd better see if we can find him."
They retraced their steps. For an hour and more they waited, but Uncle John failed to put in an appearance. And all the time, from ahead, came the dull roar of battle.
"Well, what shall we do?" asked Chester at length.
Hal shrugged his shoulders.
"Guess your peaceful Uncle John has gone on to the front," he said. "We may as well do the same. He'll turn up sooner or later."
Chester was struck with a sudden idea.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed.
"What's the matter now?" demanded Hal, eyeing his chum in some surprise.
"I was just thinking," said Chester. "Say, let's see if we can't find a couple of spare uniforms around here."
"H-m-m," muttered Hal, who knew what Chester meant. "Maybe we shouldn't do anything like that."
"Maybe we shouldn't," agreed Chester, "but there is no one here to tell us not to. Come on."
Hal followed him.
They looked into several tents, but their search met with no success, but in the sixth tent they were more fortunate. Chester, rummaging around in a corner, produced a lieutenant's uniform.
"Looks like it might fit," he said. "I'll try it on."
He did.
"Fits well enough," he said.
"All right," said Hal. "But where is mine?"
"Oh, we'll find you one, all right," said Chester.
And, after half an hour's further search, they did—a second lieutenant's uniform. Hal donned it hurriedly.
"Might as well hunt up our horses," he said.
"Ours?" queried Chester.
"Well, mine and Uncle John's, or anybody else's, for that matter. It's a long walk to the front."
They were fortunate enough to find two mounts without much trouble, and, leaping to the saddles, they rode forward.
"Got a gun?" asked Chester.
"No," replied Hal. "Have you?"
"No such luck. Maybe we can find one further on."
This hope was realized.
As they rode forward the sights of battle became evident. Here and there were fallen men, some dead and some dying, struck down by the long-range artillery of the Austrians. Red Cross nurses and physicians were busy attending to the wounded.
Hal leaped to the ground, and from the fingers of a dead officer took a revolver. A second he removed from his holster. Then he unstrapped the officer's sword belt and put it on himself.
"Well, I'm fixed," he said, leaning down and producing the unfortunate officer's supply of ammunition.
"My turn next," said Chester.
Half a mile further along he relieved a second fallen officer of his sword, revolvers and ammunition.
"Now," said he, "we are ready to go into battle?"
"We're ready," agreed Hal, "but we have no business there."
"Well, we won't do any fighting unless we have to," said Chester, "but we'll go as far to the front as we can."
They rode forward more rapidly.
Meanwhile, the Italians pressed forward to the attack. With the first shell hurled within their lines by the enemy's artillery, the Austrians came to life. Weak spots in the long battle line were strengthened, reinforcements were hurried forward all along the entire front. The Austrian artillery opened fire and for an hour the long-range artillery duel continued.
But now the Austrian officers grew greatly excited. From the shelter of the distant Italian trenches rose a long line of men. Coolly they formed under the Austrian fire, and stood awaiting the signal to advance. And a moment later it came.
On came the Italians in spite of the withering fire of the Austrian infantry and the still more deadly execution of the great guns, which mowed them down by the hundreds.
But as fast as these gaps appeared, they were filled by others, and the
Italians continued to forge ahead.
An Austrian bugle spoke sharply, and there sallied forth from the Austrian entrenchments masses of infantry at the double, closely followed by cavalry.
Evidently the Austrian commander had determined not to put his entire dependence upon his artillery.
The Italians sprang forward to meet the foe. They rushed as though hurled from a catapult.
The solid lines of infantry met with a shock. Rifles flashed and revolvers spoke sharply. Steel flashed in the air and hand grenades added their deadly execution to the terrible work.
And now the Italian infantry parted suddenly in the center and from behind at a furious pace came squadron upon squadron of cavalry, possibly, all told, five thousand men.
With impetuous bravery they dashed forward, throwing themselves upon the bayonets of the Austrian infantry, which had braced to receive the shock. But the enemy could not withstand this desperate charge. They faltered, hesitated, broke and fled. In vain their officers sought to bring order out of chaos. It was beyond their effort.
Straight in among the broken infantry plunged the Italian cavalry. Sabers whirled in the air and descended with terrible effect. Horses trampled fallen men, and bit at those who stood in their way, stamping and striking at others with their feet.
Realizing that his infantry was completely demoralized, the Austrian commander gave the word to send his own cavalry into the fray.
With a shout the horsemen charged. The Italians drew up their horses sharply and braced themselves to meet this new attack.
Chester and Hal, who came within view of this deadly work at this moment, stood spellbound.
Then Chester spoke.
"Now," he said, "you will see what I call real fighting. Look!"
The two bodies of horsemen met with a crash.