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CHAPTER XXXII

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a patrol

by artillery captain m—— c——

everything looked gay that morning at the outposts. the big, radiant sun, saturating the blue sky, made the sheet of water sparkle, as it rippled along with silvery spangles right up to the enemy lines. the ruins of the red roofs and picturesque white gables had quite a festive air, reflected in the lake which now bathed them. they seemed surprised to find themselves in the midst of these moving meadows, instead of in the green meadows in which they had been accustomed to slumber. in the horizon could be seen tints of periwinkle and lilac, which seemed to be smiling to the deep blue of the sky.

the reality of things was by no means so jovial as this charming setting. the violet, huge trees, which looked so beautiful over yonder, concealed batteries which would presently send out death amongst us. the gay, white gables had little loopholes where wicked guns and machine-guns were waiting in readiness. and, under the silvery ripples of the great, greenish lake, there were corpses hidden, and ruined harvests rotting in the water. unhappy the human being who ventured out into the inundated meadows![pg 313] he would be caught in the deep, slimy mud, in the barbed wire, in the numberless canals which furrowed the whole district, and which were treacherously concealed under great tufts of reeds. in a very short time, bullets and shrapnels would whistle round his ears as warning precursors of death.

just at the edge of the inundation, two soldiers were talking together, as they examined the big farm emerging from the water, six hundred yards to the north of the post.

"i tell you there is no one inside. there's nothing left but the loopholes."

"one never knows with these wretches."

"the only thing is to go and see."

"the sergeant says that the major, he'd like to know what's inside that farm."

"well then the only thing is to go and see."

"come on then."

they went in search of the lieutenant.

"lieutenant, can we go out on patrol round the n—— farm and have a look to see whether there's any boches inside?"

"on patrol ... in a boat you mean?"

"we'd make our plans, lieutenant."

the lieutenant was silent a minute. that farm puzzled him too, but he was anxious about the lives of his men.

"it's too dangerous," he replied, and soon after he moved away. the two men looked at each other.

"he didn't say no."

"he said it was dangerous. we know that."

"let's go then, shall we?"

"yes, we'll go."

they spotted a big tub lying in a yard. they[pg 314] emptied it, put it on the water, and set off, each one armed with his gun and a pole. the first one, on getting in, had some difficulty in balancing himself, but for the second one it was still more difficult. the tub tossed about, threatening to turn upside down. finally they managed to steady it, and they then set sail. with one pole they pushed against the bank, and with the other they steadied themselves in the muddy lake. the tub then moved on heavily and awkwardly, leaning first suddenly to the right, then to the left, and then spinning round an invisible rotation axis. our patrol was now upset into the water, and the confounded tub, as though proud of its exploit, danced about on the ripples with a contented air.

our two poor rabbits had a struggle. they managed to keep their guns above water and, on coming to land, they looked at each other and burst out laughing. it was evidently impossible for two of them to get along in that tub. they went in search of something else and presently came back with a trough. this was put on the water by the side of the tub. they each took their place, with the man?uvres of tight-rope walkers, and the squadron set out to sea. the two ships sailed along in the most alarming way. the tub, not satisfied with leaning down, first on one side and then on the other, jumped about with the agility of a stag, in the direction of all the cardinal points, and seemed to take the greatest pleasure in spinning round with such speed that it looked as though it were wound up and would never stop again. the unfortunate sailor plunged his pole in the mud. the obstinate skiff calmed down, pretended to stop, thought it over a second, and then started off in the[pg 315] contrary way, with its horrible spinning movement. the pole was plunged in again, farther on. the tub stopped short, darted into an eddy, and disappeared in the water. we, who were watching, uttered a cry of fear. ah, the tub was back again, it had only been a pretence. it went on its way once more, turning about all the time, more and more turbulent and more and more incoherent.

as to the trough, that was still more awful. it made me giddy to look at it. the pilot's pole had to do service as pole, oar, and beam. as it was absolutely incapable of performing all these functions at the same time, the trough had fine sport and made the most of it. it went along with such bounds and leaps that each time it seemed as though it were turning right over and plunging under the water. it went on more and more quickly, always by fits and starts, and in the most irregular way possible. the wretched pole had to keep striking the water in every way possible, splashing and dabbling in an agitated, incoherent manner, and so quickly that it looked like the fingers of a compass out of order.

its poor captain, who was still in the trough, was tossed about all the time. he never ceased to brandish his giddy pole, except when he was emptying the water out of his death-trap with a saucepan.

the two men were making headway, nevertheless, with the tub turning round and round, and the trough leaping and bounding, both of them dancing wild waltzes. the tub, thanks to a few vigorous strokes, got ahead. the trough followed with great difficulty, but, presently, its pilot managed to set it going and, with a few energetic strokes with his pole-oar, he too gained ground, came up with his rival, who[pg 316] appeared to be in distress, and then passed by him with ease.

they were a good distance from us now and we held our breath as we watched them. one or the other kept disappearing every minute, apparently sinking straight to the bottom. finally the trough, which was certainly the stronger of the two, approached the coast! a few more strokes of the oar and it had landed at the edge of the green islet. as to the tub, it leapt, rocked, and spun round in a way that would have made a demon shudder. finally, it ran aground on a mud bank. the man landed in the water, wallowed in the mud, freed himself, set his barque afloat again, but it was quite a drama to re-embark in it, in the midst of the "sea." he managed this, though, and he finally crossed without any further accident. we breathed freely once more.

the two patrols examined the land, consulted for a moment, and then advanced towards the mysterious farm. there was no sign of life, but we trembled for them, as we knew the ways of the boches. they were now within a hundred yards of the quiet-looking building, when, suddenly, they were saluted by bullets from invisible holes. the farm was occupied then. the object of their expedition was attained and we expected that our men would now come crawling back. not at all! they were crawling, but it was in the direction of the german trench, which ran to the right of the farm along the strip of land. they did not care to have taken such a long trip for nothing and they thought they might as well see whether the trench was occupied too. they approached it slowly and cautiously, looking up occasionally to see whether anything moved. they reached the parapet,[pg 317] stopped a second, and then, striding over it, disappeared. at my side i heard a man whisper: "they must be mad!"

"ping! pang!" we heard in the trench. this time the daring fellows must certainly have been taken prisoners. not so, though. we saw them suddenly emerge, like two jack-in-the-boxes, jump down the bank, and crawl on all fours, with the speed of two lizards running through the grass. only their guns were then visible, swaying with a quick movement like two pendulums. the men themselves were so flat down in the mud that they soon looked like two lumps of mud being moved by an invisible hand. from time to time, after a sharp volley, one of them would remain still and apparently lifeless. had he been hit, we wondered? no, he was only pretending to be dead and, a minute later, he started again, going along more quickly still. after a good quarter of an hour of this alarming chase, they reached the water. they waited five minutes and then, with a jump, each one seized his "boat," got into it, and once more set off waltzing, twisting, and turning, under a shower of bullets. twenty times over they escaped death and finally, wet through, perspiring, covered with slime and moss, as sturdy as two neptunes, they landed, and going straight up to their lieutenant, laughing as they went, they gave in the result of their expedition.

"the farm is occupied and the trench too," was all they said.

"i can see that for myself, on looking at you two, by jingo!"

the officer, torn between anger and admiration, did not know whether he ought to blame them or[pg 318] praise them. he did a little of each and our dare-devils, a trifle ashamed of being "pitched into," but very well satisfied with their exploit, went off to wash their clothes and dry themselves in the sun, which was now smiling on them.

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