Three Times and Out Part 23

Still, we were two suspicious men who trusted no one, and we thought it best to move. I took the potatoes in my sack, and Ted, to be ready for emergencies, provided a stout, knotted club for himself, and we stole out of the wood, being careful to keep it between us and the "work-hog," who never lifted his eyes--but still we took no chances, even on him!

There was a better wood a short distance away, and to it we came. We saw n.o.body, and, coming into a dark cover, lit a fire, for we thought the smoke would not rise to the tops of the trees. On it we roasted our remaining potatoes, and we got a drink in a narrow, trickling stream.

We started again, at dark, and before long came to a railway, which, according to our map, was the line which runs parallel to the river Ems. We knew we were coming near the Ems, and at the thought of it, drew a long breath. It seemed a long time since we had stood on its bank before and heard the sounds from across the Holland border. We kept going all night, avoiding the roads, and about three o'clock reached the river. There it was!--a much smaller river than when we had last seen it, but plenty large enough yet to fill us with apprehension. We found a good hiding-place before daylight, and then went back to a potato-field we had pa.s.sed, and put about a pailful in our sacks before settling down for the day in the wood.

Just before dawn we made our fire and roasted the potatoes. They tasted fine, and as the day was warm and bright, we began to feel more cheerful. That day we heard the deep-booming whistles of steamboats, and the shriller notes of the ca.n.a.l-boats. Although we knew the river boats were pa.s.sing up and down just below us, we restrained our curiosity and stayed closely hidden.

Just before it got dark we crept to the edge of the high ground overlooking the river. The other side of the river was flat, and seemed to be settled. I knew from a map I had seen that there was a ca.n.a.l a short distance beyond the river, and that it, too, would have to be crossed.

Looking down to the water's edge, we saw a fence enclosing some pasture land, and were glad to see another gate, for we wanted a raft for our clothes, and we thought this would do. It was a heavy brute of a gate. We could hardly launch it. Perhaps we were getting weaker--that may have been the reason it seemed so heavy. Anyway, when we got it to the water's edge, we had to rest before undertaking to swim the river. The current was not so strong as we had feared, and we reached the other side in safety.

We did not pull up the gate, but let it go drifting down the stream.

Perhaps this also is accounted for by the fact that we were getting weaker: also, we considered that we were harder pressed for time than the German farmer--he could make another gate.

After we had dressed and had walked for about an hour, we came to the ca.n.a.l. Unfortunately for our purpose, the night was clear and the stars were out in thousands, and, to make matters worse, the young moon, just a crescent, but still capable of giving some light, came out. We had been longer than we expected on our journey, and now, at the most critical time of it, when there was the greatest need of caution, we had moonlight nights to face! Still, every night was getting worse than the last, so we must go forward with all speed.

The ca.n.a.l was about sixty feet wide, and I felt certain it would be guarded, for it was so near the border. We went to the edge, and looked across--and then up and down--to see if we could find any trace of a guard; everything was quiet.

We knew it was a time for great haste. We went back quickly and undressed. I grabbed my bundle and let myself cautiously into the water, taking care not to make the slightest splash. When I reached the other side, I threw my clothes on the sand and came back far Ted--he was waiting for me. I took his clothes, and together we swam across!

We got quietly out of the water. I picked up my own bundle, and we started for the trees on the other side of the road. There was an excavation there where sand had been taken out. Seeing it, we slipped into it noiselessly. We were not a moment too soon, for when we stood still and listened, we heard the regular footsteps of a man, and in twenty seconds the patrol marched by! Then we dressed and got out of our fortunate hiding-place, and went on.

We still had a couple of hours before daylight, but the danger was growing greater every minute, for we knew we were approaching the border. At that thought our hearts beat wild with hope. The border would be guarded--there was nothing surer--any minute we might be challenged. We had talked it over, and were determined to make a dash for it if that happened. The patrol would shoot, but there was a chance he might not shoot straight; he would hardly get us both!

Soon we came to a marsh, with an edge of peat, and as we advanced we saw the peat was disappearing, and it did not look good ahead. The moonlight showed us a gra.s.sy mat, level as the top of a lake, and without a shrub or tree to indicate a solid bottom. It was evidently a quaking bog, a hidden lake, and only the fear behind us drove us on. It swayed beneath our feet, falling as we stepped on it fully a foot, and rising again behind us. There would be little danger of guards here, for the place would be considered impa.s.sable--and maybe it was--we should see!

Our feet were light--fear gave them wings--and we raced over the bending, swaying, springing surface! The moon was not bright enough for us to pick our steps--there was no picking, anyway--it was a matter of speed! At every step the gra.s.s mat went below the surface of the water, and we could feel it rising over our boot-tops--cold and horrible. If we had hesitated a second, I know we should have gone through; but we had every reason for haste. Behind us was the enemy--cruel, merciless, hateful--with their stolid faces and their black cells. Under us--was death. Before us--was freedom--home--and the ones we love!

At the other side there was more peat, some of it cut and piled.

We were puffing hard from our exertions, but were afraid to rest a second. The border must be near!

In a few minutes after leaving the bog we came to a small ca.n.a.l, which surprised me--there had been no other ca.n.a.l indicated on any map I had seen. It puzzled me for a minute; then a great joy swept over me! The maps I had seen were maps of Germany. This ca.n.a.l must be in Holland!

But I did not say this to Ted, for I wasn't sure. We undressed again--the third time that night--and swam the ca.n.a.l, and, dressing again, went on. Soon we found a finely settled country, with roads which improved as we went on, all the time. There were no trees, but the darkness still held, and we kept going. Toward morning we took refuge in a thicket, and spent the day.

That day was September 9th, and although we thought we were in Holland, we were not sure enough to come out and show ourselves. So we lay low, and ate the green apples that we had found on a tree between the river and the ca.n.a.l the night before. We slept a little, though too excited to sleep much.

Beside the thicket where we were hidden, a boy worked in a field with a fine team of horses, ploughing stubble. We tried to listen to what he said to his team, to see if there was any change from the German "Burrrrrrsh," but he was a silent youth, and so far as we could make out, said never a word all day. So we could not prove it by him!

But the good horses gave us hope--horses were scarce in Germany!

At dusk we started out again, and kept going straight west, for one fear still tormented us. Our maps showed us that one part of Germany projects into Holland, and for this reason we kept straight west, to avoid all danger of running into it; for the uncomfortable thought would come that to escape from Germany and then walk into it again would make us feel foolish--not to mention other emotions.

It seemed to be a fine country that we were going through, and the walking was easy, although we were not on a road. I had been telling Ted that the first railway we came to would be a single-tracked one, with dirt ballast, and then we should be sure we were in Holland. I had seen this railroad on the map, and knew it was a few miles from the border. To me, this would be sufficient proof that we were safely out of Germany.

Soon we saw a fringe of houses ahead, and we thought we were coming near a ca.n.a.l, for we were in the country of ca.n.a.ls now, and the houses are built on their banks. There were lights in a few of the houses, for it was only about eleven o'clock, and some of the people were still up. The houses looked to be rather good ones, and they were built in a row. It was the backs of them we were approaching, which we did with extreme caution, for we had no desire to have some snarling dog discover us and give the alarm.

So intent were we, watching the houses for any sign of life, that we did not see what was just before us until we had walked up to it.

Then we saw--

It was a railroad, single-tracked, with dirt ballast!

Without a word, Ted and I shook hands! We were in Holland!

CHAPTER XXIII

OUT

Immediately we set out to find a road. There would be no more skulking through fields for us. We were free again, ent.i.tled to all the privileges of road and bridge.

We soon found a good wagon-road leading to a bridge over the ca.n.a.l.

Across the bridge we boldly went, caring nothing for the houses at our right and left, whose windows were lighted and whose dogs may have been awake for all we cared. It seemed wonderful to be able to walk right in the middle of the road again! Ted said he wanted to sing, but I advised him to curb the desire. We were a little hazy as to the treatment accorded prisoners by a neutral country.

We still kept west, thinking of the bulge in the German boundary to the south of us. The road was smooth and hard, and we felt so good that we seemed to be able to go as fast as we liked. Fatigue and hunger were forgotten. A man on a bicycle rode past us and shouted a greeting to us, to which we replied with a good, honest English "Good-night," instead of the sullen grunt we had hitherto been using to hide our nationality.

Cows were plentiful that night, and we got apples, too, from the orchards near the road. The only thing that troubled us was that our road had turned southwest, and we were afraid that it might lead us into the little strip of Germany. However, we went on a short distance.

Then we came to a place where there were many ca.n.a.ls, some of them very large, and the straggling houses seemed to indicate a town.

Afterwards we knew it was the town called Nieuwstadskanaal.

We took a poor road, leading west, and followed it over a heather moor, which changed after a mile or two into a peat-bog with piles of peat recently cut. We kept on going, until about five o'clock in the morning we came to a house. It looked desolate and unoccupied, and when we got close to it we found that it had been badly damaged by fire. But it made a good shelter for us, and we went into what had been the living-room, and lay down and slept. The floor was even and dry; it was the best bed we had had for twenty nights, and, relieved as we were from the fear of detection, we slept for hours.

When we awakened, the sun was pouring in at the curtainless windows, and we were as hungry as bears. "Now for a potato-feed," Ted said, looking out of the window at a fine field of potatoes across the road. The field had been reclaimed from the peat-bog, and some of the potatoes had already been dug and put into pits.

In looking around for material to light a fire, I saw sc.r.a.ps of newspapers, which I examined closely and found they were Dutch papers, one bearing the name of "Odoorn" and the other "Nieuwstadskanaal."

This supported us in our belief that we were in Holland.

We got potatoes from the field and roasted them in the fire which we built in the fireplace.

A young Hollander, fired with curiosity, came to the door and looked in at us. We hailed him with delight and asked him to come right in, and be one of us! He came in rather gingerly, looking at us wide-eyed, and we were sorry to find he could not speak English.

There were certain things we wanted to know!

We were drying our matches by the fire, for they had become rather damp, and our supply was getting low. Also our tobacco was done. So we said, "Tabac," showing him our empty pipes, and from the pocket of his coat he brought out a pouch, and we filled our pipes. I don't know whether he knew we had been prisoners or not. He drifted out in a few minutes, but I think he told others about us, for after we had had our smoke, and had gone to the ca.n.a.l to fix up, we found some interested spectators.

At the ca.n.a.l we washed, shaved, cleaned our teeth, combed our hair, and went as far as we could in getting ready to see people. Ted had his Canadian soldier's tunic, with the regular prisoner's dark-blue trousers such as the British Red Cross supplies. His tunic was torn in several places and his hair was unkempt and in need of cutting. He had cut the heels out of his boots, several days before, because they hurt him. I had the regular prisoner's suit, dark-blue cloth, and had cut off the yellow stripe which had been sewed down the legs of the trousers; I had also cut off my prison number. My boots had held well, and there was not even a hole in my socks. My hair was getting s.h.a.ggy, and I suppose we were both looking fairly tough. Our clothes were wrinkled and crushed and dirty.

There was one older man who watched us, with many exclamations of friendliness, who, when we had concluded our efforts, made us understand that he wanted us to come with him to have something to eat. He could speak no English, but he made us understand. We went back to the deserted house, gathered up our things, and went with him. Two young fellows came along, too, and we were taken to a ca.n.a.l-boat near by.

The woman who waited on the breakfast table in the ca.n.a.l-boat, and served us with rye-bread, margarine, and coffee, gave us hard looks, which made us think her heart was still in the fatherland.

Conversation was naturally difficult, because no one of them could speak English, but we began to ask about Rotterdam, for we knew that that would be the port from which we should sail, and we were anxious to know how to get there. One of the young men, a fine-looking fellow with a frank, pleasing countenance, said something and made gestures, which made us think he would take us there in his boat.

We started out with him and his companion, not sorry to leave the sour-faced lady who glared at us, and walked along the road beside the ca.n.a.l. We were on the outskirts of Odoorn, a town whose chief industry is the s.h.i.+pping of peat. It being Sunday, n.o.body was working, and the people, especially the children, came out to see us. The young man took us to one of the houses and introduced us to his father and mother, who welcomed us kindly and wanted us to have something to eat. But we declined.