Dave had tried to get on his hands and knees to crawl closer to the high rocks, but as he did this a branch of one of the trees came down across his back, sending him flat again. Then another tree fell on top of the first, and he found himself held down so tightly that he could scarcely breathe. Roger was on one side of him, and he, too, was held so fast he could hardly move. There were many cries of pain and yells for help; and in the midst of the excitement there came a shrill whistle from a distance to notify the engineers that the German gas attack was on the way!
CHAPTER IX
IN THE THICK OF THE FIGHT
“Help! Help! I’m being smothered!”
“Somebody take this tree off my legs!”
“Some smash-up, wasn’t it? I wonder if anybody was killed?”
These and other cries came from all directions. Some of the exclamations were considerably smothered because those uttering them were buried almost out of sight by the trees and other debris that had come down on top of them.
“I say, Dave, are you hurt?” cried Phil. He was a few feet away from our hero, and fortunately he was free to move about, even though his face had been scratched by a branch which had come down close to his head.
“I—I don’t know if I am hu—hurt or not,” gasped the young sergeant. “I ca—can’t move!”
“And I’m in the same pickle, with this tree holding down my legs,” returned Roger.
It was at this instant that the shrill whistle came from a distance—a whistle all the fighting engineers knew only too well.