"Can't say," replied Fuller. "I never saw Huns with a contraption like that before. Rations, possibly: they may mean to camp out here just to keep us company."
The fugitives were not left long in doubt, for on arriving at a spot twenty yards from the edge of the wood the party halted and proceeded to don flexible metallic masks with hideous-looking snouts. This done, the corporal in charge inspected each man's face-protection with deliberate thoroughness, while from a distance two Hun officers in the uniform of the Engineers watched the proceedings.
"By smoke!" muttered Barcroft under his breath. "They're going to have a shot at gassing us."
At a brisk order the lid of the cart was thrown back revealing a couple of cylinders to which were attached lengths of armoured metallic hosepipe terminating in elongated nozzles. First the cylinders were placed upon the ground and air pumped into them until the required pressure was obtained. Then each apparatus was strapped to a man's back, a soldier being in attendance to hold the nozzle.
It was fairly safe for the three British officers to watch the proceedings since the height of the branch enabled them to look down upon the heads of the gassing party, while the latter could not look up owing to the straps that secured the lower portion of their masks to their shoulders.
"Reminds me of goblins at a panto," thought Bobby. "Wonder when they're going to start?"
As a matter of precaution he tied his handkerchief over his nose and mouth, an example that his companions hastened to copy. They realised that it was but a sorry protection—useless against the full strength of the deadly chlorine, but sufficient, perhaps, to ward off the effects of a "tail-end" of the poison-cloud.
Weirdly fascinated the fugitives watched the proceedings. It seemed strange to witness the diabolical preparations for their intended execution. Dimly Barcroft wondered whether he would be conscious when he fell from the bough, or whether the gas would overcome him instantly.
"The first whiff and I'll shoot," he thought grimly. "I'd like to shatter the nozzles of those pretty masks and let the brutes have a good sniff at their vile mixture."
A faint hiss betokened the fact that the taps controlling the discharge tubes had been turned on. Clouds of black vapour, eddying and seething, issued from the nozzles and rose sullenly in the cold, damp air.