would not breed contempt."
Then at times it happened that houses were scarce, and a stretch of the road, from some reason or other, ahead appeared deserted. Often, in the distance, they heard strange sounds like far-away thunder. It thrilled them to imagine that possibly this was the roar of big guns; perhaps they were even drawing near to an actual battlefield!
About this time the boys noticed that their guide was acting as though excited.
"What's the matter, Anthony?" asked Rob, bent on knowing the worst.
In his broken English the Belgian guide tried to tell them his fears.
"Look you – over thisaways – you see men, horses – they run thisaway, they run thataway – some shake hands at us – I do not know, but it may be they will turn out to be Uhlan cavalrymen – bad men who ride far in advance of the army, to screen movements of troops. If they are Uhlans, we may not go ahead further!"
CHAPTER V.
UNDER THE BRIDGE
Of course what Anthony told them caused the boys more or less concern. They had no desire to fall into the hands of the Germans. While it could not be said that they were against the invaders, the terrible stories they had heard in Antwerp, even if only a small part were true, gave them an unpleasant feeling toward the Kaiser's men.
That word Uhlan was dreaded by every Belgian or native of Northern France. While it really stands for the cavalry arm of the German forces, still, ever since the Franco-Prussian war of more than forty years ago, it has possessed a terrible significance all its own. Humble peasants shivered when they pronounced it, and no doubt many an unruly child was threatened with the coming of the terrible Uhlans unless it mended its ways.
"If that's the case, then," Merritt voiced the opinion of himself and chums by saying hurriedly, "we want to get out of this. It's a case of either run or hide with us."
"But where could we hide?" asked Tubby, looking all around him helplessly. "Just now there isn't a single cottage in sight; and the bare fields around don't offer much shelter, seems to me."
"There's a bridge just ahead of us," said Rob.
"And we might manage to get our mounts down underneath," added Merritt instantly, grasping the idea that was in the patrol leader's mind. "The bank slopes easy enough to allow of it."
"Eet could be done, Messieurs!" allowed the guide, who was even more alarmed, it seemed, than Tubby himself, since the prospect of falling into the hands of the dreaded Uhlan raiders began to assume greater proportions, now that the peril no longer lay in the dim distance, but was close at hand.
"Then let's hurry and see what it looks like under the bridge," advised Rob.
Just as they figured, it proved easy enough to lead their horses down the bank, which was covered with grass and growing weeds, for since the war began all really unnecessary work on roads and railways had been stopped. And those horses would have willingly gone anywhere if there only seemed a prospect that they might rest a spell, for they seemed tired all of the time.
"Listen to them shouting, will you?" Tubby complained as they were going down amidst the bushes that promised to screen them from the party on the other side of the little stream across which the massive bridge had been built.
"I'm afraid they must have seen us," Merritt said, "and that will mean they'll soon be across the bridge again to find out what we're doing, and who we are. What's the program, Rob?"
"We must act as though our only object in coming down here was to water our horses," replied the patrol leader; this idea having possibly come into his mind as he noticed the way his mount put its ears forward, and commenced to whinny – as horses invariably do when they scent water, and are thirsty.
"Come on, here, what's ailing you, Dobbin?" demanded Tubby, jerking at the reins when his animal displayed an inclination to hold back.
"He acts kind of queer, doesn't he?" Merritt said when, after considerable fussing, Tubby managed to coax his horse to once more advance, though the animal seemed to be snorting, and trembling. "If we were on the cattle range right now I'd be half inclined to think he smelled a rattler near by."
"My stars! I hope they don't have such pests over here in Belgium!" exclaimed Tubby, beginning to himself show immediate signs of nervousness.
"Not the least danger," declared Rob. "But, all the same, my horse seems trying to hold back, just as yours did, Tubby."
"They're sure a cantankerous lot all through!" grumbled the fat scout, looking carefully where he expected to plant his foot next; for, in spite of Rob's assurance, he was not quite so certain that the undergrowth beneath the bridge might not harbor some poisonous reptile which might strike unexpectedly.
"They're still keeping up that shouting!" announced Merritt, listening. "Which I take it is a queer thing for them to do. If they're German raiders why don't they come across and interview us, I wonder? I thought I saw uniforms among the bunch. How about that, Rob?"
"The sun was in my eyes, and I couldn't say for certain," acknowledged the one spoken to, jerking at the bridle of his horse.
"One thing is sure," said Tubby, "the horses are not at all thirsty; else there's some thing they don't like about this place down here."
All of them were really puzzled by the strange actions of their horses. It was no longer simply Tubby's mount that acted so contrary, but the other three also.
"Guess my nag got cold feet about something; and it's catching as the measles," Tubby announced, as he shook his head in the manner of one who finds himself with too hard a nut to crack.
"Well, that water looks cool and clear," said Merritt, "and I think I could enjoy a few swallows myself, if the horses won't."
"Sure it ain't poisoned, are you, Merritt?" queried Tubby dubiously.
"Oh! get that crazy notion out of your poor head, Tubby. Germans don't make war that way. They face the music, and stand up before the guns. What makes you look at me like that, Rob?" and Merritt as he asked this question stopped short, for he had been in the act of putting his threat into deeds, and getting down beside the stream to take a drink.
"I smell it too, Rob!" exclaimed Tubby just then. "And, oh! let me tell you it's a rank odor. Isn't it in this country they make all that Limburger cheese; or over the border in Holland? Well, if you asked me I'd say it was something like that."
"Smells more like burnt powder to me!" snapped Rob, showing visible signs of increasing excitement.
With that he commenced looking hurriedly around. Perhaps a sudden tremendous suspicion may have flashed into his mind, and he was seeking to justify it by making some sort of discovery.
The gully was of considerable width, as has been said before, though just at that time in the late summer the stream that flowed through it did not appear to be of any great depth, and could be easily forded.
There were bushes and grass and weeds growing all about, besides stray stones that may have fallen there when the solid masonry of the really fine bridge had been constructed years before.
Although he turned his eyes in this quarter and that, Rob failed to see anything that looked at all suspicious. Still that peculiar odor continued to strike his sense of smell, stronger than before, if anything.
"Must be something burning, fellows!" announced Tubby, as he held a hand up so that he could close his nose with thumb and finger against the offensive odor.
The guide had meanwhile thrown himself down at the brink of the stream and proceeded to drink his fill. Evidently he had no fear concerning the quality of the water. Typhoid germs were unknown to his lexicon; and so long as water looked fairly clear it suited him.
He was getting on his feet again as Tubby made that last remark. His horse had been pulling more violently than ever at the rein, and the Belgian started to say something uncomplimentary to the animal in Flemish.
Rob had stopped examining the shore upon which they were standing. He turned his gaze across the stream to the opposite bank, for his scout training told him that since the breeze came from that