CHAPTER XIV BACK TO THE FIRING LINE
Gathered in a long, low-ceilinged room Bumpus found the other monksassembled. Upon a long deal table, destitute of cloth and othergarnishings such as he was accustomed to seeing in his own well-orderedhome of plenty, the American lad discovered a number of bowls ofsteaming gruel. There was bread in plenty, besides, and his friend whocould speak English bade him take a vacant seat, where he could partakeof the humble fare to his heart’s content.
It was simple enough, but, to a hungry boy, quite appetizing; and Bumpusshowed no hesitation about “pitching in.” Meanwhile, as the otherBrothers were fairly consumed with curiosity concerning the appearanceof a strange lad in their midst, the tall monk commenced to repeat thestory told by Bumpus.
Evidently all of the Brothers were intensely interested. The devotionwhich the boy had shown with regard to his invalid mother made them castmany benevolent glances toward Bumpus as the story proceeded. And alittle later, when the edge had been taken off the guest’s appetite, hewas asked further questions.
To the surprise and delight of Bumpus these touched upon the meaning ofthe uniform he wore; and presently he found that considerable interestwas taken in the calling of the Boy Scouts of America.
It was true they had scouts in France, as in England and Germany, butalways in these European countries the organization hinged upon militarynecessities. And when these men of peace learned how such is not thecase over in America, and that scouts there only strive to be of use totheir fellows, as well as build up their own moral characters, they werewonderfully pleased.
They talked among themselves when all this was explained through themedium of the interpreter, and it was evident from the smiles upon theirfaces that the idea appealed powerfully to their belief in universalservice to mankind. It was a startling fact for them to learn that inthis newer country across the sea even boys were uniting to raise thestandard of living, to help those in need of assistance, and to buildup, rather than tear down.
Bumpus told lots of interesting things. He did not bother relating howhe and some of his intimate chums had passed through certain amazingadventures, but rather confined himself to explaining how scouts ingeneral went about their work; how every member of the organization hadto keep his badge turned upside down of a morning until he had done somekind act for another; how they were taught to succor those in peril oftheir lives; to forgive enemies when the chance came; to play the partof amateur surgeons in cases of necessity, and in innumerable other waysprove themselves useful members of society.
Evidently those retired men of the monastery learned many things thatpleased them during that hour Bumpus sat at their board and talked fromthe fulness of his heart, for the subject was very dear to him, and itis to most genuine scouts.
Finally he bethought himself of the fact that unless he got started soonhe was likely to have a difficult time finding his three comrades. Theymight leave some sort of communication for him at the place where theyspent the night, should it happen that they felt called upon to movetheir quarters. Bumpus knew that Giraffe, as well as Allan, hadconsiderable knowledge concerning Indian methods of sign writing, and herather anticipated that if any message was found it would be along thoselines.
Another thing caused him to consider it wise that he hasten hisdeparture. Even as he sat there in that peaceful dining room of themonastery, with those earnest Brothers gathered about the long table,leaning on their elbows and listening to the answers he made to the manyquestions, Bumpus could hear an increasing uproar outside.
The heavy reverberation of great guns shook the massive walls of thebuilding; those insistent sounds of cruel warfare invaded the peacefuldwelling, where strife was not supposed to ever come. Half a million menin uniform were about inaugurating another day of buffeting and killingin the struggle for the mastery. And it behooved him to get started onhis way.
So he arose from the table, his appetite thoroughly satisfied with thehumble but abundant fare of the monks.
“If you feel that you must go, my son,” said the tall Brother, onceagain at his side, “allow me to set you on your way. In the name ofmyself and the rest of those assembled here, I wish to thank you forgiving us such pleasing news concerning your noble order across the sea.With such sentiments governing your actions we can see a glorious futureopening up before you. Take, then, our blessing with you, my son. And wehope and pray that some time, when peace shall have fallen on our ownbeloved France; when swords shall be beaten into pruning hooks, then,too, our loyal Boy Scouts may forget all aspirations for military gloryand live only to be a helping force in the world.”
So Bumpus gravely went around and shook hands with each of the monks inturn. He never felt prouder in all his life than just then, as theybeamed on him; and more than one placed a trembling hand on his head asthough invoking a blessing for the comforting message this boy fromAmerica had brought them.
Once outside and Bumpus became deeply interested in what was going on.He could hardly have been otherwise, for already it was plainly evidentfrom the terrific pounding of cannon that the battle had broken out morefuriously than on the preceding day.
As he walked along by the side of the tall monk in his coarse gray gownBumpus talked of the war and its possible end in a general limitation ofarmies and navies all over the world.
“It is the one great result we hope and pray for,” said the other,soberly; “and toward that end we are ready to devote everything that wepossess, property and life, too, if need be. ‘Whom the gods woulddestroy they first make mad,’ and certainly that is what is happening inthese dark days. But we have faith to believe great good will surelycome out of all this terrible destruction.”
Bumpus was sorry to say good-bye to the friendly monk when the latterhad placed him on another road, which, he said, was the thoroughfareleading to Paris in one direction and the field of battle in the other.
“I’ll never forget all I’ve seen and heard while your guest, sir,” hetold the other, whom he now knew as Brother Ambrose; “and perhaps sometime or other I may write to you from my home over the sea.”
“We seldom receive letters from the outside world,” the grave manreplied, “but under the unusual conditions I can promise to reply shouldyou think to send me word. I would like to learn if you found yourmother safe, and that with your brave comrades you had again reachedthat wonderful land of promise, America.”
So they shook hands earnestly and parted. It must have been a wonderfulexperience to this recluse, who had for so many years kept away from thebustling world to meet a lively American boy and learn so manysurprising facts concerning the new spirit of usefulness that had takenhold of the rising generation across the sea.
Bumpus strode on, with his mind filled with the things he had justpassed through. As he progressed he could notice that the dreadful roarwas constantly increasing as new batteries took up the refrain andbelched out their noisy defiance. Von Kluck evidently could not give upall idea of keeping on in the direction of the coveted prize in theshape of the French capital, now only ten miles more or less distant.Visions of that other successful occasion, when Paris was taken bysiege, doubtless spurred him on to further strenuous efforts; and if theFrench eventually prevented a breach in their lines, wonderfulgeneralship would be necessary.
The road was far from deserted now. With the break of day fresh streamsof vehicles of every description had commenced moving, generally towardthe front, as new supplies of ammunition and food were being constantlyrequired to keep the army up to top-notch fighting pitch.
And those motor trucks and other moving vans that came _from_ the frontwere never empty, Bumpus saw. Every one carried wounded Frenchmen, bravefellows, who doubtless had already received first aid at the fieldhospitals, and were now being taken to other institutions around Paris,where they could in time possibly recover from their grievous injuriesand once more join their regiments.
Bumpus heard few groans as
these vehicles, with their ghastly freight,passed him on the road. How his heart beat in sympathy with the gallantoccupants. Many times did he snatch his old campaign hat off to wave itaround his head in vigorous salute as he let out a lusty cheer. This wasin answer to some waving hand that even pain and weakness could notwholly subdue.
Naturally, these things affected a fellow built along the lines ofsensitive Bumpus. He wished he had a chance to be of some use whilethere so close to the battle front; and as he trudged along a resolutionbegan to form in his mind.
At first the boy had stopped several times on the road and looked longand wistfully back of him. To tell the truth, he was sorely tempted toturn “right about face” and go the other way. Paris lay in that quarter,and there he was likely to find his invalid mother. Bumpus hardly knewwhat his proper course should be. He did not believe she really neededhim, because at last accounts she had been feeling very much better. Ofcourse, like all mothers, she would be greatly worried concerning hissafety. On that account he wished he might communicate with her; butsince his three chums had decided to remain there and see the end of thegreat battle he really had no other choice.
So in spite of these pullings at his heart-strings the boy each timekept on as he had started. His resolution to be of some use to those inneed grew stronger all the while. The procession of ambulances and vansfilled with stricken humanity kept that determination fresh in his mind.While Bumpus of course did not pretend to know a quarter of the thingsconnected with surgery that Thad, for instance, was able to practice, atthe same time he had been drilled in the rudiments of the art, and couldact as an assistant when called upon, bind up ordinary cuts, stop theflow of blood, fetch cool water to parched throats, and in many similarways prove of service about a field hospital.
Well, he was getting along toward the spot where that low hill stoodfrom which he and his three chums had lately watched the progress of theterrible fight on that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon in earlySeptember. Bumpus recognized it in the near distance by certainformations of trees at its base, which he, as a true scout, hadimpressed upon his memory at the time he stood there.
Then a new inspiration came to him. Why not stop one of these driversand find out if the man knew anything about Thad and the rest—alwaysproviding he, Bumpus, could manage to make him understand English.
The idea impressed itself upon his mind as worth trying. Supposing theother fellows had been upon the road, their presence would be noticed byan observing driver, who could easily tell the boys in khaki were notnatives.
With this scheme in view Bumpus waited for another van or ambulance toapproach, when he meant to throw up his hand and signal for a stop. Hisopportunity was not long in coming; indeed, somewhat to his surprise,the motor ambulance marked with the significant Red Cross began to pullup even before he made motions.
Imagine the amazement of Bumpus when in the khaki-clad driver at thewheel he recognized a familiar form—no other, in fact, than his ownchum, Giraffe, grinning at him as though greatly pleased over theunexpected meeting.