Part 23 (1/2)
He pressed hard against the earth. He would have pressed himself into it if he could, and imagination, the deceiver, made him think that he was doing so. The temptation to raise his head above the gra.s.s and look became more violent, but will held him firm and he still lay flat.
Then he noticed that the hoofbeats wandered about in an irregular, aimless fas.h.i.+on. Not even a scout hunting a good position for observation would ride in such a way, and becoming more daring he raised his head slowly, until he could peep over the gra.s.s stems. He saw a horse, fifteen or twenty feet from him, but without rider, bridle or saddle. It was a black horse of gigantic build like a Percheron, with feet as large as a half-bushel measure, and a huge rough mane.
The horse saw John and gazed at him out of great, mild, limpid eyes. The young American thought he beheld fright there and the desire for companions.h.i.+p. The animal, probably belonging to some farmer who had fled before the armies, had wandered into the battle area, seeking the human friends to whom he was so used, and nothing living was more harmless than he. He reminded John in some ways of those stalwart and honest peasants who were so ruthlessly made into cannon food by the gigantic and infinitely more dangerous Tammany that rules the seventy million Germans.
The horse walked nearer and the look in his eyes became so full of terror and the need of man's support that for the time he stood as a human being in John's imagination.
”Poor old horse!” he called, ”I'm sorry for you, but your case is no worse than mine. Here we both are, wis.h.i.+ng harm to n.o.body, but with a million men shooting over our backs.”
The horse, emboldened by the friendly voice, came nearer and nuzzled at the human friend whom he had found so opportunely, and who, although so much smaller than himself, was, as he knew, so much more powerful. This human comrade would show him what to do and protect him from all harm.
But John took alarm. He too found pleasure in having a comrade, even if it were only a horse, but the animal would probably attract the attention of scouts or skirmishers. He tried to shoo him away, but for a long time the horse would not move. At last he pulled a heavy bunch of gra.s.s, wadded it together and threw it in his face.
The horse, staring at him reproachfully, turned and walked away. John's lively fancy saw a tear in the huge, luminous eye, and his conscience smote him hard.
”I had to do it, Marne, old fellow,” he called. ”You're so big and you stick up so high that you arouse attention, and that's just what I don't want.”
He had decided to call the horse Marne, after the river near by, and he noticed that he did not go far. The animal, rea.s.sured by John's friendly after-word, began to crop the gra.s.s about twenty feet away. He had a human friend after all, one on whom he could rely. Man did not want to be bothered by him just then, but that was the way of man, and he did not mind, since the gra.s.s was so plentiful and good. He would be there, close at hand, when he was needed.
John was really moved by the interlude. The loneliness, and then the friendliness of the horse appealed to him. He too needed a comrade, and here he was. He forgot, for a time, the moaning of the sh.e.l.ls over his head, and began to think again about his escape. So thinking, the horse came once more into his mind. He showed every sign of grazing there until dark came. Then why not ride away on him? It was true that a horse was larger and made more noise than a fugitive man slipping through the gra.s.s, but there were times when strength and speed, especially speed, counted for a lot.
The last hours of the afternoon waned, trailing their slow length, minute by minute, and throughout that time the roar of the battle was as steady as the fall of Niagara. It even came to the point that John paid little attention to it, but the sport of kings, in which thousands of men were ground up, they knew not why, went merrily on. None of the sh.e.l.ls struck near John, and with infinite joy he saw the coming of the long shadows betokening the twilight. The horse, still grazing near by, raised his head more than once and looked at him, as if it were time to go. As the sun sank and the dusk grew John stood up. He saw that the night was going to be dark and he was thankful. The Marne was merely a silver streak in the shadow, and in the wood near by the trees were fusing into a single clump of darkness.
He stood erect, stretching his muscles and feeling that it was glorious to be a man with his head in the air, instead of a creature that grovelled on the ground. Then he walked over to the horse and patted him on the shoulder.
”Marne, old boy,” he said, ”I think it's about time for you and me to go.”
The horse rubbed his great head against John's arm, signifying that he was ready to obey any command his new master might give him. John knew from his build that he was a draught horse, but there were times in which one could not choose a particular horse for a particular need.
”Marne, old fellow,” he said, stroking the animal's mane, ”you're not to be a menial cart horse tonight. I am an Arabian genie and I hereby turn you into a light, smooth, beautifully built automobile for one pa.s.senger only, and I'm that pa.s.senger.”
Holding fast to the thick mane he sprang upon the horse's back, and urged him down the stream, keeping close to the water where there was shelter among the willows and bushes. He had no definite idea in his head, but he felt that if he kept on going he must arrive somewhere. He was afraid to make the horse swim the river in an effort to reach the French army. Appearing on the surface of the water he felt that he would almost certainly be seen and some good rifleman or other would be sure to pick him off.
He concluded at last that if no German troops came in sight he would let the horse take him where he would. Marne must have a home and a master somewhere and habit would send him to them. So he ceased to push at his neck and try to direct him, and the horse continued a slow and peaceful progress down the stream in the shadow of small trees. The night was darker than those just before it, and the dampness of the air indicated possible flurries of rain. Cannon still rumbled on the horizon like the thunder of a summer night.
While trusting to the horse to lead him to some destination, John kept a wary watch, with eyes now growing used to the darkness. If German troops appeared and speed to escape were lacking, he would jump from Marne's back and hunt a new covert. But he saw n.o.body. The evidences of man's work were present continually in the cannonade, but man himself was absent.
The horse went on with ponderous and sure tread. Evidently he had wandered far under the influence of the firing, but it was equally evident that his certain instinct was guiding him back again. He crossed a brook flowing down into the Marne, pa.s.sed through a wheat field, and entered a little valley, where grew a number of oaks, clear of undergrowth.
When he saw what was lying under the oaks he pulled hard at the rough mane, until the horse stopped. He had distinctly made out the figures of men, stretched upon the ground, apparently asleep, and sure to be Germans. He stared hard at them, but the horse snorted and tried to pull away. The action of the animal rather than his own eyesight made him reckon aright.
A horse would not be afraid of living men, and, slipping from the back of Marne, John approached cautiously. A few rays of wan moonlight filtered through the trees, and when he had come close he shuddered over and over again. About a dozen men lay on the ground and all were stone dead. The torn earth and their own torn figures showed that a sh.e.l.l had burst among them. Doubtless it had been an infantry patrol, and the survivors had hurried away.
John, still shuddering, was about to turn back to his horse, when he remembered that he needed much and that in war one must not be too scrupulous. Force of will made him return to the group and he sought for what he wanted. Evidently the firing had been hot there and the rest of the patrol had not lingered in their flight.
He took from one man a pair of blankets. He could have had his choice of two or three good rifles, but he pa.s.sed them by in favor of a large automatic pistol which would not be in the way. This had been carried by a young man whom he took to be an officer, and he also found on him many cartridges for the pistol. Then he searched their knapsacks for food, finding plenty of bread and sausage and filling with it one knapsack which he put over his shoulder.
He returned hastily to his horse, guided him around the fatal spot, and when he was some distance on the other side dismounted and ate as only a half-starved man can eat. Water was obtained from a convenient brook and carefully storing the remainder of the food in the knapsack he remounted the horse.
”Now go on, my good and gallant beast,” he said, ”and I feel sure that your journey is nearly at an end. A draught horse like you, bulky and slow, would not wander any great distance.”
The horse himself immediately justified his prediction by raising his head, neighing and advancing at a swifter pace. John saw, standing among some trees, a low and small house, built of stone and evidently very old, its humble nature indicating that it belonged to a peasant. Behind it was a tiny vineyard, and there was a stable and another outhouse.