Then the car hit the curve and commenced to swing around it. Bumpus was jammed up against his seat-mate Giraffe, and came near crushing the elongated scout, such was his bulk.
But they had passed safely around the coveted turn, and were once more hurrying along the road, the speed increasing with a jolt as Thad again gave full power.
Now if they could manage to hold their good fortune for just another half minute they stood a chance of running out of the fire zone, where those dropping shells were plowing up the ground, and leaving gaping craters here, there and everywhere, into each of which a good-sized cabin could be hidden.
All of them began to live again, for during the worst of the bombardment, doubtless, they had simply existed, as Giraffe afterwards candidly admitted, when speaking about the adventure.
It was soon only a horrible nightmare, a memory that would haunt them as long as they lived. The shells still continued to fall, and the terrific crashes kept making a strange martial music that rendered talking next to impossible; but all this was now going on in their rear.
For some reason the Germans meant to make that particular section of road impassable. Perhaps they gave it much more prominence than it really deserved, for the boys had discovered few signs of any movement of troops or supplies along its whole length.
Things began to brighten once they were beyond that turmoil and confusion. Bumpus even had a little color creep back into his cheeks, though he still continued to quiver at times, and suck in his breath with gasps. If Giraffe could read the signs aright, when he turned to look at his chum several times, the movement of Bumpus’ lips told that he was saying his favorite word, “Gee!” again and again. Well, it spoke volumes for the sense of awe that had filled his whole soul during that period of stress and anxiety.
Now they could begin to take notice once more of what lay ahead. Of course, each boy was ardently hoping they would have no more of that sort of business to go through with. It was a bit too strenuous, even Thad was ready to admit. Scouts were not supposed to be the possessors of iron nerve; and really that was what any one must have to pass through such an experience.
A mile, two, three of them soon slipped away. The racket had partly died down by this time, possibly owing to the fact of their being further away from the scene; and then again the German gunners may have believed their object accomplished, so that there was no further need of wasting shells in that quarter.
Giraffe soon discovered a French battery. Then he pointed out another partly concealed under some sheltering branches of trees. They were firing steadily, as if carrying out orders.