Almost as Jimmy spoke there came another of the wicked hums of a singing bullet, and it "pinged" against a tree not far from the two Khaki Boys.
"They either see us or they guess we're still here," said Jimmy.
"I don't believe they see us," stated his chum. "More likely they're just taking a chance and firing at the location where they last saw your tin hat. We'd better hurry on."
Fear and desperation urged the boys forward, and they crawled rapidly, if painfully, up the hill, in and out of shell holes, over sticks, stones, and, in one case, a dead body. But eventually they reached the place where the machine gun had been planted. It was there still, with most of the crew dead around it.
"Wonder if we could turn it around and aim it at the fellows who fired on us?" suggested Roger.
He and Jimmy examined the gun, and though they were not familiar with this particular German weapon their general knowledge told them that it was so damaged as not to be fire-able.
"Well, we'll have to depend on what we have," said Jimmy, as he looked to his rifle and revolver. Fortunately, he and Roger had plenty of ammunition. They had with them all their possessions, including their emergency rations.
"We can stay here until dark, if we have to," said Jimmy. "But I don't want to. Let's make another attempt at it on the opposite side. But keep low."
They got a drink of water from the spring, and then lay down and began to crawl out of the woods. They did not stand upright except when behind the thick shelter of trees.
But no sooner had they begun to progress after the manner of a not very agile serpent than there was the sing of bullets over their heads, and some struck the ground near them.