“Well, Fritz, feel better?” Don asked, speaking English.
No answer; a blank stare. Billy comprehended and at once got some fun out of the incident. It was a funereal affair that didn’t have a humorous side for him. He held his spread hand, palm down, over his head, moved it about like the flying of an airplane, pointed to it and to the Hun with his other finger; then making the hand take a big drop through the air and double up on the ground again pointed to the airman. The latter understood at once and scowled at his combined rescuers and captors; then flopped back on the stretcher. The boys restored him to his place in the car and turned to meet the men from the dressing-station. They all looked fagged out, tired beyond endurance. As a matter of fact, they were to keep on many more hours longer. Their conversation was brief, but to the point.
“Red Cross? Get these men back as quickly as you can and return at once. We are in an abri there by the woods. Tell Major Little that the lieutenant wants more ambulances right away. We have eleven wounded; two ‘going West.’”
“All right, I’ll put the juice to her, Sergeant?” Don saw the three bent stripes on the man’s sleeve. The four shifted the wounded, one of whom was unconscious, to the unfolded white stretchers of the car, strapped them down, folded their own brown army stretchers and turned back.
“What does he mean by ‘going West’?” Billy whispered, as they got under way.
“Dying,” replied Don. “Guess it’s an Indian phrase—‘toward the setting sun.’ Poor chaps!”
“O my! I’m afraid one of these,” Billy pointed his thumb over his shoulder, “won’t stay ‘East’ long. I hope he does, but you see, I really ought to study medicine. I get hunches about that sort of thing, you know.”
They flew over the even ground, and moved slowly over the rough. Again in the farm road they were swiftly passing the house when a cry from one of their passengers arrested their attention. It was a cry for water.
Don pressed down his brake and turned to Billy. “That canteen—” he began.
“I think that a real cold drink,” suggested the young man, “would do more good. Oughtn’t they to have a well here? Suppose I see.”