第 10 页

seemed, to the young Barclays, almost like a dream. In the

excitement of loading and firing, in the tumult and the rattle,

they had scarcely had time even to give a thought to the danger.

Fear is seldom felt by the soldier when engaged in close conflict.

The time when his nerves are most tried is while waiting inactive,

at a distance, exposed to a heavy shell fire; or while advancing to

an attack, under a storm of musketry and artillery. In a

hand-to-hand conflict, he has no time to think. His nerves are

strung up to so high a pitch that he no longer thinks of danger, or

death. His whole thoughts are given to loading and firing.

Any thought that the boys had given to danger was not for

themselves, but for each other; and Ralph--though his own position

was unsheltered--had once or twice spoken, to Percy, to keep his

body better sheltered by the trees behind which he was standing.

It was a long chase before the frightened animals were collected

together, and driven up towards the spot where the fight had taken

place. By the time that it was accomplished, the wounded had been

collected, and the surgeons had bandaged many of their wounds. A

qualified surgeon had accompanied the corps, as its regular doctor,

and two other young surgeons had enlisted in its ranks; and these,

their arms laid by, were now assisting to stanch the wounds and to

apply bandages. Of the franc tireurs, there were only four so

seriously wounded that they were unable to walk.

By that time two carts arrived from the village of Douteppe, which

stood in the valley, half a mile only from the scene of action; and

to which place Major Tempe had sent off a messenger directly the

affair had terminated. In one of these the wounded were placed,

while in the other were piled the arms and accouterments of the

fallen Uhlans. One of the young surgeons was to accompany the

wounded as far as Baccarat, where they were to remain for

treatment.

Twenty-three horses of the Uhlans had also been captured, by the

party who had driven in the cattle--among whom they were galloping.

Four men were told off to take them back to Epinal, and there

dispose of them, with their accouterments, for the benefit of the

military chest of the corps.

The question then arose as to what was to be done with the Prussian

wounded. Major Tempe decided this by saying that, as it was quite

impossible for the corps to be burdened with wounded men, the best

plan was to allow one of the slightly wounded among the prisoners

to walk back to Blamont; with a message that the Uhlans could come

back to fetch their wounded without molestation, as the franc

tireurs were upon the point of taking their departure.

The corps then assembled round a grave which had already been dug,

and into it the bodies of their comrades who had fallen were

placed. Major Tempe then said a few brief words of adieu, hoping

that all who fell might die equally bravely, and victoriously. Then

the sods were shoveled in; and the men, saddened by the

scene--though still flushed with the triumph of their first, and

signal, success--prepared to leave the spot.

Major Tempe had already held a consultation with his officers, and

their plan of operation had been decided upon. The difficulty which

they had encountered the evening before, with the horse and cart,

had already proved that it would be impossible to drag it about

with them. They had also taken thirty fine cattle, and upwards of a

hundred sheep from the enemy; and it was therefore resolved to

establish a sort of headquarters in the mountains, where they could

retire after their expeditions, and defy the efforts of the

Prussians to disturb them. The spot fixed upon was the forest of

Bousson, high up among the Vosges, and distant two hard days'

marching.

A portion of the troop, therefore, went round to Halloville, to

fetch the accouterments, blankets, etc. which had been left there;

while the rest marched, by the road, to the place where the cart

had been left the night before. Two peasants were engaged as guides

and, in the afternoon, the corps started for their destination.

It was a terrible march. The roads were mere tracks, and the

weather was terrible. Over and over again, the men had to unload

the carts, shoulder the contents, and carry them for a considerable

distance, until ground was reached where the cart could again be

loaded.

It was not until late on the evening of the third day's march that,

thoroughly done up by fatigue and hardship, the corps reached the

little village of Raon, in the heart of the forest of Bousson.

There was no possible fear of attack, here; and the commandant

decided that, for the night, there was no occasion for any of the

men to be out as sentries. The villagers at once took charge of the

animals, and turned them into a rough enclosure. The men were too

much done up even to care about keeping awake until supper could be

cooked and--being divided among the houses of the village--they

threw themselves down, and were fast asleep in a few minutes.

The next morning, the sun shone out brightly; and the men, turning

out after a long sleep, felt quite different creatures to the tired

band who had wearily crawled into the village. The bright sky, the

fresh morning air, the pleasant odor of the great pine forest

around them, and the bracing atmosphere--at the height of fifteen

hundred feet above the sea--at once refreshed and cheered them.

There was a brief morning parade--at which Tim Doyle, for the first

time, took his place with a rifle on his shoulder--and then the

major dismissed them, saying that there would be no further parade

that day, and that the men could amuse themselves as they liked. In

a short time, every man was following the bent of his own

inclination. First, however, there was a general cleaning of the

rifles and accouterments; then most of the men went down to the

stream, and there was a great washing of clothes, accompanied with

much laughing and joking. Then needles and thread were obtained,

from the women of the village, and there was much mending and

darning--for the past three days' work, among rocks and woods, had

done no little damage to their uniforms.

Next came the grand operation of breakfast, for which two of the

sheep had been killed. This, being the first regular meal that they

had had, for three days, was greatly enjoyed. After it was eaten

most of the men lit their pipes, and prepared to pass a day of

delightful idleness. Two or three of the village boys had been

engaged, as cowherds and shepherds; and the animals were all driven

out into the woods where, in the open glades, they would find an

abundance of food.

The cart was unanimously condemned as worse than useless. An empty

shed was turned into a storehouse; and it was determined that such

stores of powder, etc. as might be required, upon each expedition,

should be packed upon the horse's back and, if the horse could not

take all required, that other horses should be hired.

The Barclays, with their cousins, started for a ramble in the wood;

taking with them the Irishman, whose good humor and unflagging

spirits, during the last three days, had made him a general

favorite.

"Sure, and are there any wild bastes in the wood, your honor

Because, if there be, it would be well to take our rifles with us.

It would be mighty unpleasant to come across a lion, or a tiger,

and not to be able to pass him the time of day."

"No, Tim, we shall meet neither lions nor tigers, so you need not

trouble yourself with a rifle. A hundred years ago, we might have

met with a bear, or a wild boar; but they have disappeared, long

since. It is possible that there are a few wolves scattered about;

but they are never formidable to any but a solitary person, even in

winter; and at all other times fly from man's approach."

The party had a charming ramble, for the scenery here was very

fine. At times, the forest was so thick that they could see no

glimpse of the sky, and the trunks of the trees seemed to make a

wall, all round them; then again, it would open, and they would

obtain a glimpse over the country far away, rise beyond rise, to

the plain of Champagne or--if the view were behind, instead of in

front of them--they could see the tops of the highest range of the

Vosges, rising hill above hill, and often wooded to the very

summit--the Donon, one of the highest points of the range, being

immediately behind them.

The villages are, here, few and far between, and the people

extremely poor; for the soil is poor, and although in summer the

cattle--which form their only wealth--are able to pick up an

abundance of food, in the forests, they have a hard struggle to

keep them alive during the winter. Their language is German, and

their appearance and dress rather German than French but,

notwithstanding this, they were thoroughly French in spirit, and

regarded the invaders with an intense hatred.

Another day, passed in rest, completely restored the most exhausted

of the band. Orders were therefore issued for an early start, the

next morning; the object, this time, being to endeavor to cut the

railway. The band were to march in a body for the slopes of the

Vosges, behind Sarrebourg and Saverne; and were then to divide into

companies, and scatter themselves among the villages between

Lorquin and Marmontier, so as to act together or separately, as it

might seem expedient.

Chapter 6: The Tunnel Of Saverne.

It is needless to follow the corps, step by step, through their

marches; for the names of the little villages through which they

passed would not be found in any maps published in England, and

would therefore possess little interest for English readers. After

two days' long marches, the main body of the corps reached a

village situated in a wood, at about four miles from the great rock

tunnel of Saverne. The fourth company had been left at a village,

five miles to the left; while the third company were, next day, to

march forward to a place at about the same distance to the right.

Their orders were to keep a sharp lookout, to collect news of the

movements and strength of the enemy; but not to undertake any

expedition, or to do anything, whatever, to lead the enemy to guess

at their presence in the neighborhood--as it was of vital

importance that they should not be put upon their guard, until the

great blow was struck.

As soon as they had marched into the village, the principal

inhabitants came forward, and a consultation was held as to

providing lodgings. After some conversation, it was agreed that the

officers should have quarters in the village; and that the

schoolrooms--two in number--should be placed at the disposal of the

men. They were good-sized rooms, and would hold thirty men each,

without difficulty. The company who were to march forward in the

morning were provided with quarters in the village.

Ralph and Percy Barclay, as usual, acted as interpreters between

Major Tempe and the inhabitants; for neither the major, nor any of

his officers, spoke German. That language, indeed, was spoken only

by a few men in the whole corps; and these the commandant had

divided among the other companies, in order that each company might

be able to shift for itself, when separated from the main body.

"Have you seen this proclamation?" one of the villagers asked. "You

see that we are running no little risk, in taking you in."

Ralph read it, and as he did so his face flushed with indignation,

and he exclaimed:

"This is infamous! Infamous!"

"What is it?" Major Tempe asked.

"It is a proclamation from the Prussian General commanding the

district, major, giving notice that he will shoot every franc

tireur he may catch; and also giving notice to the inhabitants that

if any Prussian soldier be killed, or even shot at, by a franc

tireur--if a rail be pulled up, or a road cut--that he will hold

the village near the spot accountable; will burn the houses, and

treat the male inhabitants according to martial law, and that the

same penalties will be exacted for sheltering or hiding franc

tireurs."

"Impossible!" Major Tempe said, astounded. "No officer of a

civilized army could issue such an edict. Besides, during an

invasion of Germany, the people were summoned by the King of

Prussia to take up arms, to cut roads, destroy bridges, and shoot

down the enemy--just as we are going to do, now. It is too

atrocious to be true."

"There it is, in black and white," Ralph said. "There can be no

mistake as to the wording."

Major Tempe looked grieved, as well as indignant.

"This will be a terrible business," he said, "if the war is to be

carried on in this way. Of course, if they give us no quarter, we

shall give them none. That is, we must make as many prisoners as we

can in order that, if any of our men are taken prisoners, we may

carry out reprisals if they shoot them.

"It will, besides this, do us great harm. Naturally, the villagers,

instead of looking upon us as defenders, will regard us as the most

dangerous of guests. They will argue:

"'If we make no resistance, the Prussians may plunder us, but at

least our houses and our lives are safe; whereas if these franc

tireurs are found to have been with us, or if they make any attack

in our neighborhood, we are not only plundered, but burnt out, and

shot!'

"Of course, we are always liable to treachery. There are scoundrels

always to be found who would sell their own mothers, but now even

the most patriotic cannot but feel that they are running an immense

risk in sheltering us.

"Never before, I believe, in the annals of civilized nations, did a

man in authority dare to proclaim that persons should suffer for a

crime with which they had nothing, whatever, to do. If we arrive at

a little village, how are the people to say to us, 'We will not

allow you to pull up a rail!'? And yet, if they do not prevent us,

they are to be punished with fire and sword. And these people call