The Boy Allies in the Trenches | Page 6

reply, followed by the German battle-cry: "_Deutschland ��ber alles_!"
A revolver bullet tore a ragged hole through Hal's cap, and a second one passed just under his left arm.
But now the revolvers of the Germans were all empty, and the fighting continued with swords alone.
Into the very midst of the German squad the two lads hurled themselves. Cutting, slashing, parrying and thrusting, the Germans fought on doggedly. Now a man fell, then another, and still another, but still they would not yield until at last there were left but three. From these, at Hal's command, the British drew back to give them one more chance for life; but they would not take it, and the British closed in again.
"Well," said Chester, a few moments later, "it's all over."
"But they fought well and bravely," said Hal, returning his sword to its scabbard.
He looked around and took an account of his losses. Twelve British soldiers lay dead upon the ground, and a score of others were nursing their wounds--some serious, some only scratches. But there was no time to dress these wounds now. There was other work to do.
"Mount!" cried Hal.
The troop obeyed, and Hal sprang into the saddle of a riderless horse.
His sword flashed forth once more.
"Forward!" he cried.
The little troop set off at a gallop.
To the north could be caught occasional glimpses of the North Sea, as the sand dunes now and then permitted an unobstructed view. The party was at the extreme north of the long battle line that stretched away to the south, clear through Belgium and France.
For perhaps half an hour the troop rode rapidly on, but finally Hal called a halt. He listened attentively. There was no sound to break the stillness, other than the faint boom of heavy guns in the distance, telling that the long-range artillery duel, farther south, was still in progress.
But, as Hal was about to give the word for a further advance, from almost directly ahead, though still some distance away, came the sound of a single pistol shot. Just one shot; that was all. In vain did the lads strain their ears to catch a possible reply to the shot. None came.
Hal ordered his men to advance at a slow trot, and the troop moved forward once more.
Now they came to a woods. They advanced rapidly and the woods became less dense, and the darkness caused by the heavy overhanging trees gave way to more light. Hal again called a halt, and himself rode forward to investigate. Twenty yards ahead he came to a clearing in the woods, stretching out for a possible quarter of a mile.
In the very center of this clearing the lad made out a strange sight. His eyes fell upon a detachment of German troops--about fifty all told--dancing about what Hal finally made out to be a barn.
As Hal looked a sheet of flame sprang up. It was plain to the lad in an instant that the enemy had set the wooden structure afire.
"But why?" he muttered to himself.
The answer was not long coming.
From the barn, through a crack between the boards, issued a cloud of smoke, and even above the yells of the dancing Germans Hal made out the report of a revolver. One of the Germans stopped his antics and toppled to the ground to rise no more.
"Great Scott!" cried Hal aloud. "They are burning him up!"
Jerking his horse about, he dashed back to his men and again placed himself at their head. Chester ranged himself alongside.
In a few brief words Hal explained what he had seen, and then cried to his men:
"Forward! Charge!"
At a gallop the British covered the distance to the clearing, and then dashed toward the enemy as fast as their horses could go. As the sound of galloping hoofs was borne to the ears of the enemy, they stopped their dancing about the barn and fell into line to beat back the British.
The first line threw themselves to the ground. The second line fell to their knees, their rifles pointing over their prostrate comrades, while above them protruded the weapons of the third line, standing erect.
At a shouted word of command from Hal the British cavalry scattered, and bore down on the enemy from three directions. Here and there a rider dropped to the ground as a German bullet found its mark; but in spite of these losses and the withering German fire, the rest dashed on.
Right up to the muzzles of the German rifles the British charged, and leaning over their horses did terrible havoc among the enemy with downward sweeps of their heavy swords. They rode their horses right in among them, the hoofs of the chargers trampling the foe to death. Some sprang to their feet and darted toward the rear, only to encounter the British troopers who