Not for long were we to be left in peace. The old woodcutter returned, and this time he took up his position a good bit nearer than before, and chopped away hard till nearly dusk, when at last he again went off with his old barrow. If one carefully analyses one’s feelings and sensations in moments of excitement such as these, through what extraordinary vicissitudes does imagination lead one. For instance, in the almost infinitesimal space of time between the report of the hunter’s gun and the sound of his quarry dropping to earth I lived a lifetime. We had been seen; we were surrounded; armed men had been sent to take us; we would be led back in triumph to the hell that awaits prisoners; and then the sound of the quarry falling through the trees, the swift realisation that the enemy is only hunting game and not you, the wild relief and the bodily demand for a drop of brandy or something to pull oneself together, which follows after all great mental strain.
About dusk we crept out of our old drain into the shelter of the wood, stiff with cramp and cold, but with the glorious feeling that so far we were safe, that we were already twenty-five miles nearer home, and that another night of swift action lay before us, at the end of which we would, please God, be still nearer. At 7 o’clock we again started trekking. Little of moment happened to us during the early part of the evening, and by 9.30 we had made a good ten miles, and were casting round for the railway for which we were in search. Our progress now became very slow; thick white clouds obscured the face of the moon; a rapid thaw had set in, and our way was barred by a series of deep rivulets running through an old and decayed wood stretching for many miles on each side of us. Here we very soon lost all idea of direction, and decided to retrace our steps as best we could and strike still farther north.
By good luck we came within a hundred yards or so of the spot from where we had started before entering this wooded country. Having got our direction again, we struck north, to find ourselves getting into more marshy country as we advanced. After having walked for some distance over wet fields of a spongy nature, sometimes up to our knees in water, we came upon a small river, which we followed northwards until we struck the much-hoped-for railway-track that we were in search of, running due west and cutting the river at right angles, in accordance with my previous calculation. Making sure there was no sort of guard on the bridge, we drew ourselves out of the marsh, to stand with relief for a moment on the firm dry track, before passing over the bridge and proceeding on our adventures.
Pushing on again, we kept to the track as long as it ran due west, and within a few miles struck the second river which we had hoped to find, and thus placed a formidable obstacle behind us. Our exact position was now known with relation to the network of railways on which our minds were concentrated. The line which we were now on would run due west for a mile or two, and then bend southward in a big curve before running west again, when it would bridge the Grand Canal. Our object was now to make use of this bridge if possible, but we did not feel justified in remaining on the line until the bridge was reached, owing to the fact that, as far as we could remember the map, there appeared to be a station or siding through which the line ran soon after it began to turn southward. Accordingly we stuck to the rails as long as they ran westward, after which we left the track with the very greatest reluctance, to again plunge into the marsh, maintaining our fixed purpose of travelling due west whenever possible.
Very soon the sight of our friendly track was lost to view, and we had not advanced more than a mile or two before we began to consider that perhaps we should have done better to stick to it, whatever the consequences, as the difficulties of advancing through the marsh were becoming more serious as we proceeded. We were now well over our knees and often up to the waist in water and slime. The moon had unveiled herself, much to our discomfort, and before very long she was shining in a cloudless sky, which caused us to call a halt for the purpose of consultation as to the best procedure under the circumstances. Was it best to go on as we were? We were doing fairly well, but making a terrific noise in advancing through the marsh, which was absolutely unavoidable. Four people cannot push their way through mud and slush nearly up to their waists without making a disturbance. This was well enough so long as it was dark. If any of the enemy did happen to be in the neighbourhood, they would probably conclude that the noise in the marsh was caused by cattle; but now that we could see almost as well as if it were day, we could therefore just as easily be seen in turn. The sight of four men wading through dangerously swampy country in the middle of the night in close proximity to the frontier in war-time would raise the suspicions of the most simple-minded.
However, our consultation did not lead to any better results, and we were losing valuable time. The general opinion turned out to be contrary to retracing our steps, for many reasons: first, the fear of losing our direction; secondly, if we did strike the railway line again, we might be forced to leave it, and find ourselves in the same position that we were now in. Should we happen to run up against somebody, the impossibility of finding to what extent these marshes extended to our right and left, without running grave risk and again losing time, and many other minor reasons, decided us to proceed as rapidly as the difficulties of our route would permit.
Within a couple of miles we found ourselves, to our great joy, on the banks of the expected Grand Canal. When I say banks, we were standing up to our waists in water and long lush grass, a heavy damp white mist hung over everything, and we could just see over the other side of the canal, which was evidently a great deal more swampy than our side. Large patches of water, unbroken by reeds, gleamed here and there. To swim the canal would be easy, but to advance on the other side looked impossible. Accordingly we decided to follow the canal southward as best we could, in the hope of striking the railway line again, which must bridge the canal in some place or other in our near vicinity. Hardly had we proceeded a couple of hundred yards or so, when the expected bridge suddenly loomed out of the mist.
The natural elation caused by the sight of this bridge was quickly damped as we approached, for there on the far side of the bridge was a small black shed. It appeared as if this would be one of those occasions where we should be forced to take a risk. Accordingly we advanced to the track with the least possible noise, taking the very greatest care to prevent any rustling of the reeds in our path, climbed to the track, and lay on our stomachs whilst we took a cautious survey. After a few minutes’ reflection I rose to my hands and knees, and crawled up to and over the bridge, and lay within ten feet of it on the other side, where I could distinctly hear a gentle snore, that told of some sort of human inmate; also I now noticed for the first time a very thin wisp of smoke curling up from the cabin chimney—this we had not been able to see before, owing to the thickness of the mist. The fellow in the cabin, soldier or civilian, whoever he was, continued to give out comforting little snores. Accordingly I signalled to the rest of my companions to crawl over as I had done, and one by one they succeeded in doing so without making any appreciable sound, but for me waiting on the other side it seemed as if each one took a lifetime. But the bridge guard slept on, and we all crossed with perfect safety, to immediately push off again down the track with the utmost possible speed, in order to leave this unwelcome neighbourhood behind.
Now that we had put the two rivers and the Grand Canal behind us, we felt that we had done a very good night’s work, even if we made no more progress that night; but it was only 1.30 a.m., and we had at least three if not nearly four hours before daybreak, in which another ten miles might be made. As we advanced the land to our right and left grew gradually more swampy; sometimes large expanses of shining water came into view on either side of us, and we thanked our stars we had risked the bridge, as, had we essayed to pass through country like this, our progress would have become nil, even if we survived drowning.
Within a couple of miles the land gradually began to take on a drier aspect, until eventually dry ground showed on both sides of us. Here we took a general survey of our direction by the aid of the stars, and found we were travelling south by west. This had to be corrected, so we now left the track on which we had made such excellent progress, and struck off west over dry land, which led us to a series of gently sloping hills, looking something like the downs at home. Every bit of available ground was under cultivation, and on several occasions dogs barked out their warning from small farms which we passed.