Weeks had passed since that train had thundered along the rails into Germany, carrying its truck-loads of British prisoners. It was ages since the brilliant and powerful Nobby had wrenched up the flooring of the truck and had thereby discovered an opening, which might or might not lead to liberty, and it seemed a positively endless period since Bill had been swung out by hands and feet, since Jim had thrown off the couplings, since the moment when this gallant little band had escaped from their captors and had plunged towards the west, where lay friends and safety.
But consider the difficulties before them. That part of Germany was not so thickly populated that movement of a band of men was out of the question; across the Rhine Germans swarmed—German soldiers—while farther west, in the invaded French territory, the movement of a mouse was almost likely to be noted.
"It's got to be a slow game," Bill said, when after their first night's journey they lay down in a wood, hungry and feeling desolate. "Of course we may have unusual luck, but there's little doubt that we shall have to go quietly and very secretly. Let's sleep, boys, then we'll forage for food, after that—well, leave it."
"Aye, leave it," laughed Nobby—laughed uproariously, for this gallant fellow was in the highest spirits. "As for taking time and all that, what's it matter, so long as we do get back one of these days? Seems to me, slow but sure—the pace of a tortoise—is the thing we're out for. But food! crikey, ain't I hungry!"
"Aye!" gasped another of the band, a lusty eater like Nobby himself. "But there'll be food round about, and we'll take it—eh, Bill?—eh, Sergeant Bill?—sorry, Sergeant!"
Bill laughed. Yet it was a sign of the times. These comrades of his were becoming a little careful how they addressed him. Perhaps the feeling of discipline had something to do with it, and perhaps it was the fact that they recognized in Bill a born commander, the sort of young man of which our officers are made, and let us say at once we include the officers of all the Allies.
Then they lay down, and presently all were asleep, nearly all indeed slept heavily till the early morning. Sounds of someone approaching, and the sudden appearance of a cow and a calf with a soldier behind them, threw the band into a commotion. The men seized the sticks with which they had armed themselves, Larry dashed towards a tree; then the soldier laughed.
"My! Ain't I frightened the whole lot o' you," he shouted. "A-feared of Nobby and a couple of cows a-walkin' into the camp, and lookin' as though you'd like to chuck 'em out, when I'm bringing food, too."
The gallant Nobby, for he it was, hurled two fowls in amongst his comrades. "Didn't know I was a sort of gamekeeper in peace times, did yer? I'd almost forgotten it meself, for them days seems a long way off; but I chanced to wake at the first streak of dawn, and went off to see what was around us. This 'ere cow and calf was mighty handy. Right down below there's a settlement, and I happed on a convenient Hun residence. What's this—eh? Why, bless me soul!—it's bread! My, I am surprised! Believe me, when I saw that in the larder of a house—a farmhouse, you know—I felt like leaving it for the Huns. Then I thought of you chaps, and I guessed it 'ud do you more good than it 'ud do any German. Sit up, boys. Here's milk and meat and bread for to-day; to-morrow, if we can't move off, we can kill the calf, and there'll be more meat for a week perhaps; after that—well, we'll be able to look round by then, eh? What about some breakfast?"
"What abaht it?" one of the band sang out, while the rest were convulsed with laughter or ran forward to congratulate the gallant Nobby.