"And a wonderful sight it is, at that," added Merritt. "They can say what they please about these German soldiers—and the Belgians feel they've got a right to call them all sorts of hard names, as barbarians and the like; but there never was such remarkable discipline in the history of the world. The huge army is like one vast machine. Men count only as necessary cogs. When one goes another takes its place, and the engine grinds on."
They crouched there and watched every operation from a safe distance. It seemed as though there was a never-ending procession of gray-coated figures, most of them with the spiked helmets on their heads, marching away in columns toward the southwest. Then came batteries of quick-firing guns, and heavier field pieces. The clattering of accouterments, the neighing of horses, and the hoarse singing of various regiments—all these things came floating on the breeze to the ears of the three lads, as they lay there in the afternoon sunshine and watched.
"They seem particularly fond of certain tunes," remarked Tubby, "and I know one is the German national air, 'The Watch on the Rhine,' because we've sung it many a time in the school at Hampton. What's that other they roar out, Rob?"
"I think it's a popular patriotic German air, called Deutschland ueber Alles, which means, of course, 'Germany Over All'," Rob obligingly replied.
"Oh! well, every country's sons believe they ought to have the first place in the sun; and I reckon we Americans have done a heap of boasting that way," Merritt remarked, which seemed to be about what Tubby thought, too.
So they lay there until the camp was entirely deserted. Never would those three scouts forget the spectacle to which they had been treated that day.
It was now along toward the middle of the afternoon. Far off in the distance somewhere, an action was certainly going on, for the grumble of heavy cannonading came almost constantly to their ears.
"Chances are," said Rob, as they prepared to vacate their refuge and once more push onward, "there's a fierce battle in progress, and this corps has received orders to get on the firing line. That would account for the way the troops were singing. Their business is to fight, and most of them are only happy when they can smell burnt powder, hear the crash of bursting shrapnel, and the heavy boom of big shells."
"We've seen one battle," observed Tubby with a shudder, "and for myself I'm not hankering after a second experience."
"I suppose in time we'd get used to such terrible things," Rob pursued in a reflective way, "for even the fellow who nearly swoons away in his first fight, they say, becomes a regular fire-eater after a while; but, so far as I'm concerned, I'll be a happy boy when I see good old peaceful Long Island again, with its sandy beaches, and the familiar things we love."