One thing struck Max forcibly in the little band of which he had to all intents and purposes now become a member, and that was the fine spirit of discipline and camaraderie among them. Corporal Shaw was the only non-commissioned officer present, and the French soldiers accepted his lead as unhesitatingly as their British comrades. All food obtained was rationed out equally, and turns were taken with the carrying of the half-dozen rifles.
In spite of the careful and rapid way in which the retreat from the dangerous neighbourhood of the former haunts of the band was carried out, it seemed that they were not to escape unscathed. In crossing a road, little more than a track, about four miles from the railway, they must have been seen by a German soldier, himself unseen, on the look-out, for they heard a loud shout of warning, and almost immediately after the tramping of horses' hoofs as though a body of cavalrymen were hastily mounting.
"Guns to the rear!" ordered Corporal Shaw curtly, and the six men carrying rifles, three British and three French, dropped to the rear of the little party and spread out in open order on either side of the line of retreat.
"If they're cavalry hadn't we better retreat through the most broken country we can find?" enquired Max suggestively.
Corporal Shaw nodded and led the way in the direction indicated. The noise of the pursuing cavalry drew nearer, and the Corporal turned suddenly to Max: "Do you lead the retreat, lad. You know where we're bound better than I do. Keep only just in front of the men with the guns—we're going to give them a fight for their money."
The retreat was being made along a narrow track through rough and broken country overgrown with short, thick undergrowth. Looking back, Max saw that the six men with guns had disappeared, and the only men in sight were the bunch he was himself leading, and three or four a few yards in his rear. But the six men were not far off, and now and again he caught a glimpse of one or other of them in the woods on either side of the line of retreat of the main body.
Suddenly the Uhlans crashed through the thickets and came into sight only a hundred yards away. There were about a score of them, and they caught sight of the fugitives at the same moment as the latter caught sight of them. They gave a fierce yell of delight, and, at a harsh order, put spurs to their horses, grasped their lances, and rode helter-skelter over the bushes towards the straggling body of unarmed men in front of them. The nearest men, conspicuous among whom was the Scot in full war paint, quickened their pace to catch up to Max and the party in front.
"They love to spear a Scot," remarked Shaw in an undertone to Max, coolly indicating the main decoy and the wild eagerness with which the Uhlans charged down upon their unarmed foe.
Sixty yards, fifty yards, then forty, and still the enemy closed down upon their quarry. Then Shaw raised his voice and shouted:
"Now, boys, give it them!"