CHAPTER XII
ESCAPES BY NIGHT AND DAY
Unfortunately, not being of a literary turn of mind, I am unable to write a thrilling account of our adventurous journey across Germany. At the same time, where in my description I make such a statement as “We now made our way across country without interruption for four hours,” the reader must not imagine that we just rushed along without encountering difficulties, for the way was always beset with some sort of obstacle or other. Needless to say, we gave ourselves a great many unnecessary scares; but in our highly strung condition, with all our senses working at fever-heat, this was not to be wondered at.
The uncertain moonlight played tricks with our imaginations, everything assuming gigantic proportions. All the forces of nature seemed to be arrayed against us and to walk hand in hand with the enemy. If a slight wind rustled the leaves of a solitary tree to our rear, we felt we were discovered and followed, and must press on, only to fall on our stomachs again after a few hundred yards, as there was something standing in front and waiting for us, inevitable, grim, and silent. “Look! he has moved; it’s a sentry! Did you notice the light shining on his bayonet?” and so we would creep away to right and left, only to find that our grim sentry was a large post marking some boundary, and the apparent flash of the bayonet had probably been caused by the rays of the moon suddenly appearing from behind a cloud and striking one of its white painted sides.
To return to facts. The spot in which we were forced to hide, for want of a better place, was on the edge of a small wood, consisting of a number of old and rotten trees, with a very thick carpet of decayed leaves, which, being frozen, made the most infernal crackling noise under our feet, as we searched to and fro for the best place of concealment. Being winter, there was not sufficient foliage to enable us to hide in the trees themselves with any safety. After exploring the wood in vain, we eventually had to take up our position in a natural drain running along the edge of the wood. This afforded us very little covering; a few blackberry brambles and small branches were hastily snapped off, and pulled in on top of us. By raising our heads a little above the drain a view of the surrounding country could be obtained, and the railway line and main road connecting the two small towns which we had crossed early in the morning were in plain view.
After careful examination of our position, I came to the conclusion that we had managed to find almost the identical spot that I had planned out as the most desirable one for the termination of our first trek, as shown on the map of our railway carriage, both because of its position in relation to a network of small railways to which we must depend for direction, and to the fact that it lay almost in a direct line, if taking the shortest route to the frontier; so that, with the exception that we had not enough cover for safety, we had not done so badly, and had in reality made very good progress from our starting-off place the night before, and, what was more important than anything else, I felt pretty certain of our exact situation.
At the approach of dusk on the following evening it would be necessary, according to my prearranged plan, to strike due north for about ten miles, in order to find two light railroads running west, which bridged two small rivers and the Dutch-German Grand Canal, and also passed over the dangerous swampy ground through which our course lay. Could we find either of these railroads we should again know our position, and by keeping to the tracks as far as possible make better progress, with the chance of being able to use the bridges, should they be unguarded.
The reader will no doubt ask why I proposed to take so difficult and dangerous a route, leading as it did right through the centre of the swamps. My reasons were threefold. First, because I was firmly convinced that the Boches would place so much confidence in the natural obstacle presented by the swamps that any sort of guard would appear superfluous. Secondly, the country through which we were trying to pass is the most thickly populated part of Germany. By making for the swamps, therefore, we should almost entirely obviate the chances of being seen by pedestrians. Thirdly, because it was the shortest way, which, situated as we were without food or the necessary warm clothing, would become a factor of primary importance before many hours had passed.
To return to the early hours of the morning after our first night’s trek, as we lay half concealed in the drain bordering the little wood before described. My first feeling was one of intense relief at the thought of a day’s rest in front of me, for my whole body ached after the unwonted exercise. I tried to compose myself to sleep, but the natural excitement of mind caused by the happenings of the last twenty-four hours proved this to be very difficult, and it was some time before I eventually dropped off into a troubled slumber, only to wake up within the hour suffering from cramp and stiff with cold. To make matters worse, the ground underneath me had thawed with the warmth of my body, and I was now wet through all down one side. If only we could have got a good hot meal to take the shivers out of us, things would have assumed a different aspect. The sound of occasional voices wafted to us on the wind from the high road before mentioned kept us continually alert to our danger; but the first real anxiety was brought about by an old woodcutter who paid a visit to our little wood, evidently looking for a piece of old timber, and before very long he settled down to work not more than sixty yards from us. The regular chomp, chomp of an axe told us that he at any rate had discovered nothing suspicious; but of course all prospects of further sleep vanished until his departure at midday with a barrowful of wood.
About this time I for one began to get ravenously hungry, and forthwith made a meal of a precious piece of chocolate. A sixpenny bar of Cadbury’s chocolate does not go very far after a long march, but as I had nothing else whatever it had to do. Don’t let the reader imagine I greedily ate the lot. Oh no! I took about three-quarters of it, sufficient for the day, but at the same time I thought with longing of my improvised ruck-sack and the good things it contained, either lying on the Bonn-Düsseldorf railway line or elating the greedy spirit of some beastly Boche.
After the departure of the old woodcutter the day passed fairly peaceably until about 3 p.m., when the barking of a dog in our near vicinity “put our wind up,” as the expression goes. Suddenly the stillness of the wood was rudely broken by the sound of a shot, and we could distinctly hear the fall of a bird as it crashed through the trees with a thud to earth, followed by the yapping of the dog as it ran its quarry down. The hunter then tramped all over the wood, tapping the trees, evidently in search of more sport, and in so doing he passed within ten yards of us. All this time we lay with our bodies pressed to earth in a perfect agony of doubt. As for myself, it seemed impossible that the hunter could fail to hear the wild pounding of my heart; but the danger passed, and again silence reigned in the little wood.