Suddenly came the tap, tap, tap of a machine-gun. The rest of the Uhlan patrol broke and fled across the fields, leaving two of their number writhing on the ground. Another had his horse shot under him, but, quite callous to their comrades' fate, the three remaining fugitives never slackened rein, their sole thoughts being for their own safety.
Kenneth recrossed the ditch—far less agilely than he had a few moments before, for his thigh was aching dully. He could see no signs of his rescuers. The fire had evidently been a long-range one.
He made his way to his motor-cycle. With considerable effort he raised it and placed it on its stand. Upon examination he found that the damage done was not so great as he fully expected. The actual collision had smashed the lamp and bent the stem of the handle-bars, but, thanks to the powerful springs, the front forks had stood the severe strain of the impact. The controls were intact, while the only other damage was that the left foot-rest was bent. In falling sideways the weight of the cycle had been thrown upon this exposed part, which had, to a great extent, saved the machine.
At the second attempt the motor fired. The hind wheel revolved without showing any signs of wobbling. The lad gave a whoop of delight; his precious mount was still serviceable.
He next directed his attention towards the Uhlan whom, in naval parlance, he had "rammed". The fellow had been stunned by the fall from his horse, but was on the point of regaining consciousness.
"You look a tough customer, my friend," soliloquized the lad as he looked upon the coarse, brutal features of his vanquished assailant. "I think you will be quite capable of looking after yourself, without requiring any attention from me. I'll take your helmet as a souvenir, though; and, while I am about it, I think I'll stop you from doing further mischief."
With this Kenneth removed the Uhlan's sword, lance, and carbine. The lance, being made of light steel, he broke into three pieces; the other weapons and the German's ammunition he threw into the ditch to keep company with his own revolver.
While thus engaged the motor-cyclist perceived the approach of a body of men accompanied by dogs. They were the Belgian machine-gun battery whose fire had effectually routed the Uhlan patrol.
"They'll be at Omal before me," thought Kenneth. "I suppose it would be best to stop and explain matters; for if I made off they might take it into their heads to pot me."
"So you have settled with one of this scum," exclaimed the Belgian major in charge of the detachment as he returned Kenneth's salute. "Ma foi! I am of a mind to shoot him."