Part 7 (1/2)
”She'll wake up fast enough when it's time to eat, and so will you,”
said Marie, with profound wisdom.
”Let 's see if we can't make her go a little faster, anyway,” said Jan, ignoring Marie's remark. ”I know what I'll do,” he went on, chuckling; ”I'll get some burrs and stick them in her tail, and then every time she slaps the flies off she'll make herself go faster.”
Marie seized Jan's arm.
”You'll do nothing of the kind!” she cried. ”Father De Smet told me especially to keep away from Netteke's hind legs.”
”Pooh!” said Jan; ”he didn't tell me that. I'm not afraid of any mule alive. I guess if I can harness a horse and drive home a load of grain from the field, there isn't much I can't do with a mule!” To prove his words he shouted ”U--U” at Netteke and slapped her flank with a long branch of willow.
Now, Netteke was a proud mule and she wasn't used to being slapped.
Father De Smet knew her ways, and knew also that her steady, even, slow pace was better in the long run than to attempt to force a livelier gait, and Netteke was well aware of what was expected of her. She resented being interfered with. Instead of going forward at greater speed, she put her four feet together, laid back her ears, gave a loud ”hee-haw!” and stopped stock-still.
”U--U!” shouted Jan. In vain! Netteke would not move. Marie held a handful of fresh gra.s.s just out of reach of her mouth. But Netteke was really offended. She made no effort to get it. She simply stayed where she was. Father De Smet stuck his head over the side of the boat.
”What is the matter?” he shouted.
”Oh, dear!” said Jan to Marie. ”I hoped he wouldn't notice that the boat wasn't moving.”
”Netteke has stopped. She won't go at all. I think she's run down!”
Marie called back.
”Try coaxing her,” cried the skipper. ”Give her something to eat. Hold it in front of her nose.”
”I have,” answered Marie, ”but she won't even look at it.”
”Then it's no use,” said Father De Smet mournfully. ”She's balked and that is all there is to it. We'll just have to wait until she is ready to go again. When she has made up her mind she is as difficult to persuade as a setting hen.”
Mother De Smet's head appeared beside her husband's over the boat-rail.
”Oh, dear!” said she; ”I hoped we should get to the other side of the line before dark, but if Netteke's set, she's set, and we must just make the best of it. It's lucky it's dinner-time. We'll eat, and maybe by the time we are through she'll be willing to start.” Father De Smet tossed a bucket on to the gra.s.s.
”Give her a good drink,” he said, ”and come aboard yourselves.”
Jan filled the bucket from the river and set it down before Netteke, but she was in no mood for blandishments. She kept her ears back and would not touch the water.
”All right, then, Crosspatch,” said Jan. Leaving the pail in front of her, he went back to the boat. The gangplank was put out, and he and Marie went on board. They found dinner ready in the tiny cabin, and because it was so small and stuffy, and there were too many of them, anyway, to get into it comfortably, they each took a bowl of soup as Mother De Smet handed it to them and sat down on the deck in front of the cabin to eat it. It was not until the middle of the afternoon that Netteke forgot her injuries, consented to eat and drink, and indicated her willingness to move on toward Antwerp.
XI
THE ATTACK
Joseph and his father were both on the tow-path when at last Netteke decided to move. As she set her ears forward and took the first step, Father De Smet heaved a sigh of relief.
”Now, why couldn't you have done that long ago, you addlepated old fool,” he said mildly to Netteke. ”You have made no end of trouble for us, and gained nothing for yourself! Now I am afraid we shan't get beyond the German lines before dark. We may even have to spend the night in dangerous territory, and all because you're just as mulish as, as a mule,” he finished helplessly.
Joseph laughed. ”Can't you think of anything mulisher than a mule?” he said.