But Wojtek, the sceptic, cast a shadow on his joy. Wojtek had forebodings, like Cassandra:
'The French always allow themselves to be beaten at first, in order to take you in, and then they set to until they have cut you to pieces!'
Wojtek did not know that the greater part of Europe shared his opinion, in general, and in particular now.
They travelled on. All the houses were covered with flags. They stopped a long while at several of the stations, because there was a block of trains everywhere. Troops were hastening from all sides of Germany to reinforce their brothers in arms. The trains were swathed in green wreaths, and the Lancers had decorated their lances with the bunches of flowers given them on the way. The majority of these Lancers also were Poles. More than one conversation and greeting was heard passing from carriage to carriage:
'How are you, old fellow, and where is God Almighty leading you?'
Meanwhile to the accompaniment of the train rumbling along the rails, the well-known song rang out:—
'Flirt with us, soldiers! dears!'
Cried the girls of Sandomierz.
And soon Bartek and his comrades caught up the refrain:—
Gaily forth the answer burst:
'Bless you, dears! but dinner first!'
As many as had gone out from Pognębin in sorrow were now filled with enthusiasm and spirit. A train which had arrived from France with the first batch of wounded, damped this feeling of cheerfulness, however. It stopped at Deutz, and waited a long time to allow the trains hurrying to the seat of war to go by. The men were marched across the bridge en route for Cologne. Bartek ran forward with several others to look at the sick and wounded. Some lay in closed, others in open carriages, and these could be seen well. At the first glance our hero's heart was again in his mouth.