“I think we’re coming to a village,” he told Amos, who had begun to lag a little as though leg weary; “or rather what is left of one, for when the Germans were thrown back they used every house as a barricade, and before they could be ejected there would often be hardly one stone left on another, or a wall standing.”
“Yes, you’re right about that, Jack, because I can see houses ahead of us. I only hope we find some sort of shelter, and a bite to eat, that’s all. Jack, don’t you think we’ve made good progress since sun-up?”
“We’ve done splendidly, for a fact,” the other readily admitted, “and there’s good reason you should feel hopeful. On my part I’ve seen and heard a lot of things today that will make up the liveliest letter I’ve been able to send across to the Times. On a dozen different accounts I’m glad I came over with you, Amos; and chief of all is the fact that I can be of assistance.”
“Why, I never could have gotten on without you, Jack. You’ve cheered me up when I felt blue; you’ve shown me how to ride rough-shod over difficulties; and if ever I do manage to find my brother Frank, nine-tenths of the credit will lie at your door. You’re the best chum a fellow could ever have, and that comes straight from my heart.”
“Well, here we are at the village,” said Jack, to change the conversation, though he would not have been human if he had not been touched by these warm-hearted sentiments on the part of his cousin.
“And I guess,” remarked Amos, “they must have pressed the Germans so closely through here that they had no chance to stop in any numbers, because you can see the houses are not badly shattered by shells.”
They found a scene of desolation around them, however, after they entered the village. Once it had undoubtedly been a pretty hamlet, but this was before the rush of hostile armies across Belgium’s borders.
Fugitives from less favored localities had sought safety among those who still had roofs over their heads. Curious eyes followed the boys as they passed along. Doubtless their coming and their well-fed appearance aroused the wonder and envy of these hapless people who all through the storms of the winter season had fought against starvation and freezing.
Soldiers, rumbling artillery trains, galloping horses, and all the brave trappings of new levies going to the front to become food for the cannon they were accustomed to see day after day. Then would come the ambulances and motor vans laden with the groaning victims who were being taken to field hospitals in the rear of the fighting line. But when two sturdy lads, one of them wearing a little American flag in his buttonhole, walked into their village, the natives became interested at once.
It was known throughout the length and breadth of Belgium that charitable America had fed their suffering millions all through the winter. On this account any one who claimed to be a citizen of the generous republic beyond the sea was welcome in their midst.