They trudged along for a time in silence, though both of them kept eyes and ears open so that they might not lose any portion of the remarkable war panorama by which they were surrounded.

As they overtook and passed other fugitives from the threatened village, Amos found himself still pitying the poor souls once again cast out upon the cold world.

“I wish we could help them,” he said to his chum, “but of course that’s out of the question. We’re like the ‘babes in the woods’ ourselves. But by now we must be about the end of the string. The road looks clear ahead.”

“And I was just thinking,” added Jack, “we hadn’t left the village any too soon for our health.”

He made a suggestive movement with his hand when saying this, and Amos guessed the meaning.

“Do you really think the battle has reached there so soon?” he asked as he stood and listened to the clamor that welled up from their rear.

“Yes,” said Jack; “from the sound of spattering rifle firing I think the retreating British have taken advantage of the houses. Every stone cottage will shelter a dozen or so. And as the pursuing Germans come along with a rush they’ll be met by a murderous fire.”

“Then just as our good old friend the burgomaster said, it will spell the finish of the village,” sighed Amos; and apparently his chum caught his meaning in spite of the dreadful din, for he went on to follow up the thought.

“Yes, the Germans will turn their guns on the place if they meet with a set-back there, and make it a howling wilderness.”

“Those poor women and youngsters,” groaned Amos.

“It is tough luck,” added Jack, drawing a long breath, “but only the fortune of war. We’ll see lots more of it before we’re through, I’m afraid. But by now it strikes me we ought to be meeting the first of the British reinforcements coming forward to fill the gap and stem the retreat.”

“Jack, just as you were saying that I caught a new sound—anyhow it came from a new direction. When there was a little lull in all that roar of guns I thought I heard the trample of horses’ hoofs and the rumble of hurrying artillery.”

“You hit the bull’s-eye that time, Amos, for there they come.”

Both boys felt their hearts beat with a quickened vigor as around a bend in the Belgian road came galloping horses drawing a field piece. After it appeared a caisson with ammunition, and then other portions of the battery in quick succession.

“Let’s get out of the way, because they’ll need the whole road,” said Jack.

“But what can one battery do against all those heavy German guns?” Amos asked, as the leading horses drew near.

“Oh! this is only a beginning,” he was immediately told by his companion. “I’ve no doubt for a mile and more back the road is solid with them, all hurrying to the front. And tens of thousands of troops must be headed in the same direction, though perhaps they’ll take to the fields, and leave the roads to the artillery. Now watch, and give the boys a salute as they go past.”

They stood with their hats in their hands, and as the first field piece went rumbling by both boys gave a yell, at the same time waving their headgear.

The grim-looking gunners returned the cheer. Their bronzed faces had an eager look, as though they scented the battle smoke from afar, and were wild to get busy.

So they kept streaming past, battery after battery, the officers shouting their commands, for every one undoubtedly knew exactly where he was expected to take up a position so as to effectually check the fierce drive that the German hosts had started.

“There, across the field, you can see them coming,” called out Jack, after they had waved their hats until their arms were weary.

“The troops, as sure as anything, and on the double-quick at that!” exclaimed Amos, again thrilled by the sight of the khaki-clad legion that had suddenly burst into view on the full run, with bayonets gleaming wickedly, and every man apparently a part of a well-drilled machine.

“Look, look, Jack, there’s a regiment of Highlanders in their bare legs, tartans and kilts!” exclaimed Amos. “How fierce they look, Jack! I don’t wonder that they nearly always carry everything before them. I’d want to turn tail and run if I saw those boys heading for me. But what is the matter with them all that we don’t hear the bagpipes; and, Jack, where are those English cheers we’ve heard so much about?”

“Just give them time,” he was told; “they need all their wind right now for running. When they strike the line of the Kaiser’s men they’ll do their shouting.”

“Still they come along, thousands and thousands of them, as if there was no end to the reserves. What a splendid lot of men they are. It’s terrible to think of the homes that will never see many of them again.”

“Look closer, Amos, for I really believe those strapping fellows are Canadians!”

“Yes, I can see the maple leaf on that flag, Jack. And they look as if they could hardly be kept from whooping it up right now.”

Both boys displayed additional excitement. It almost seemed as though they might be looking upon fellow Americans, such is the bond existing between the two neighboring countries that for more than a hundred years have lived in amity, with not even a fort or blockhouse along the three thousand miles of boundary line.

“I warrant you, Amos, a lot of those fellows have come from the ranches in the Northwest Territory. Yes, some of them run as though they might be more at home on the back of a horse than afoot. Perhaps I know a number of the boys, for I spent a time on a Saskatchewan cattle ranch.”

The thought caused Jack to follow the passage of the hurrying Canadian regiment with intense interest. They were, however, too far away for him to have recognized any familiar faces. Besides, in the trappings of a soldier a man would look quite different from the cowboy in sheepskins or leather “chaps” as Jack had known him.

Finally the rear guard turned up. Long before the last of the artillery train had passed by the boys had seen that some of the batteries left the road a little further on, making for certain advantageous points where they could commence to hurl their death-dealing projectiles with profit.

“Shall we go on again?” asked Amos.

“Yes, because where we happen to be just now the land is low and flat, and we can see absolutely nothing,” replied Jack.

“I really believe you’re still hankering to glimpse the fighting,” Amos ventured to say.

“I think I know of a good chance,” the other told him, “and to begin with we’ll leave the road right here. Follow me, Amos.”

Of course Amos did, for he placed the greatest confidence in his chum’s judgment.

“Things seem to be going on hotter than ever all along the line,” he was saying as he kept alongside the other.

“It’s going to be a terrible day, and the surgeons of the Red Cross will be kept busy every minute of the time,” Jack remarked, as they hurried along.

Amos had noticed that they were not passing over the fields where the onrushing British reserves had crossed, since Jack had for some reason chosen the other side of the road.

As yet Amos had not guessed what his chum had in view, and when his curiosity had reached a certain pitch he could hold in no longer.

“What’s the idea, Jack?” he asked.

“There’s some sort of mansion close by, which has a tower on the roof, and the idea struck me we might get a bird’s-eye view of what’s going on if we chose to climb up there.”

“But perhaps the owner might seriously object, Jack.”

“Don’t let that bother you, Amos,” he was told. “The great German army stormed through here on the road to Paris. When it was pushed back by slow degrees in this section nothing worth taking was left. If it couldn’t be used up or carried away to the Rhine country ten chances to one it was destroyed, so that the enemy couldn’t have any benefit of it.”

“Then you think this estate is a ruin, do you?”

“You’ll soon see for yourself what happens when an invading army passes through a hostile country, for here we are at the place.”

As Jack said this he pointed ahead. Signs of destruction and vandalism could be seen the very first thing. The stone fence that surrounded the property had been thrown down in numerous places. Even trees had been chopped down to afford fire wood for the camp, or else because they were supposed to interfere with the efficiency of quick-firing guns that at one time had been planted on the roof or in the tower of the building.

As the boys advanced they were shocked at the picture of devastation they saw all around them. Close to the walls of the house all manner of costly furniture and valuable china ornaments had been ruthlessly smashed.

“It’s worse than a country fire over in the States,” remarked Amos. “Why do you suppose they did this thing?”

“Probably to keep the enemy from getting any benefit out of all this stuff,” explained Jack, “or perhaps just to strike terror to the hearts of all well-to-do Belgians who declined to welcome the invaders with open arms.”

“But the house is partly wrecked, too, Jack.”

“Yes, you can see it’s been bombarded,” the other admitted, “and several shells tore holes right through the walls. One knocked off that corner; another made this great gap in the ground when it burst. Limbs were torn from the trees too. And, taken in all, I’d say it must have been pretty warm in this section about that time.”

“Shall we risk climbing up to the tower?” asked Amos.

“Why not? The house doesn’t look as though it would crumble and collapse. It would stand another bombardment, I reckon,” and as he spoke Jack boldly led the way through the open doorway.

The interior was a sad wreck. Piles of plaster lay on the floors, and several rooms looked as though it might be dangerous to try and pass through them. Amos glanced this way and that with something of a shiver. It was as though he half anticipated making some sort of gruesome discovery amidst those telltale rubbish heaps.

Fortunately, nothing of the kind happened, and after climbing laboriously for a short time the two boys finally managed to reach the cupola or tower, where they immediately found themselves amply repaid for all their trouble with a wonderful panoramic view.