"Eet could be done, Messieurs!" allowed the guide, who was even more alarmed, it seemed, than Tubby himself, since the prospect of falling into the hands of the dreaded Uhlan raiders began to assume greater proportions, now that the peril no longer lay in the dim distance, but was close at hand.
"Then let's hurry and see what it looks like under the bridge," advised Rob.
Just as they figured, it proved easy enough to lead their horses down the bank, which was covered with grass and growing weeds, for since the war began all really unnecessary work on roads and railways had been stopped. And those horses would have willingly gone anywhere if there only seemed a prospect that they might rest a spell, for they seemed tired all of the time.
"Listen to them shouting, will you?" Tubby complained as they were going down amidst the bushes that promised to screen them from the party on the other side of the little stream across which the massive bridge had been built.
"I'm afraid they must have seen us," Merritt said, "and that will mean they'll soon be across the bridge again to find out what we're doing, and who we are. What's the program, Rob?"
"We must act as though our only object in coming down here was to water our horses," replied the patrol leader; this idea having possibly come into his mind as he noticed the way his mount put its ears forward, and commenced to whinny—as horses invariably do when they scent water, and are thirsty.
"Come on, here, what's ailing you, Dobbin?" demanded Tubby, jerking at the reins when his animal displayed an inclination to hold back.
"He acts kind of queer, doesn't he?" Merritt said when, after considerable fussing, Tubby managed to coax his horse to once more advance, though the animal seemed to be snorting, and trembling. "If we were on the cattle range right now I'd be half inclined to think he smelled a rattler near by."
"My stars! I hope they don't have such pests over here in Belgium!" exclaimed Tubby, beginning to himself show immediate signs of nervousness.