The Red Horizon Part 23

"Chewin' the rag," he answered.

"And that means----"

"Kicking up a row and lettin' every one round you know," said Bill.

"That's what shoutin' the blurry odds means."

"What's the difference between shouting the odds and shouting the blurry odds?" I asked.

"It's like this, Pat," Bill began to explain, a blush rising on his cheeks. Bill often blushed. "Shoutin' the odds isn't strong enough, but shoutin' the blurry odds has ginger in it. It makes a bloke listen to you."

Stoner was sitting on the bank of La Ba.s.see ca.n.a.l, his bare feet touching the water, his body deep in a cl.u.s.ter of wild iris. I sat down beside him and took off my boots.

I pulled a wild iris and explained to Stoner how in Donegal we made boats from the iris and placed them by the brookside at night. When we went to bed the fairies crossed the streams on the boats which (p. 224) we made.

"Did they cross on the boats?" asked Stoner.

"Of course they did," I answered. "We never found a boat left in the morning."

"The stream washed them away," said Stoner.

"You civilised abomination," I said and proceeded to fas.h.i.+on a boat, when it was made I placed it on the stream and watched it circle round on an eddy near the bank.

"Here's something," said Stoner, getting hold of a little frog with his hand and placing it on the boat. For a moment the iris bark swayed unsteadily, the frog's little glistening eyes wobbled in its head then it dived in to the water, overturning the boat as it hopped off it.

An impudent-looking little boy with keen, inquisitive eyes, came along the ca.n.a.l side wheeling a very big barrow on which was heaped a number of large loaves. His coat a torn, ragged fringe, hung over the hips, he wore a Balaclava helmet (thousands of which have been flung away by our boys in the hot weather) and khaki puttees.

The boy came to a stop opposite, laid down his barrow and wiped (p. 225) the sweat from his brow with a dirty hand.

"Bonjour!" said the boy.

"Bonjour, pet.i.t garcon," Stoner replied, proud of his French which is limited to some twenty words.

The boy asked for a cigarette; a souvenir. We told him to proceed on his journey, we were weary of souvenir hunters. The barrow moved on, the wheel creaking rustily and the boy whistled a light-hearted tune.

That his request had not been granted did not seem to trouble him.

Two barges, coupled and laden with coal rounded a corner of the ca.n.a.l.

They were drawn by five persons, a woman with a very white sunbonnet in front. She was followed by a barefooted youth in khaki tunic, a hunch-backed man with heavy projecting jowl and a hare-lipped youth of seventeen or eighteen. Last on the tug rope was an oldish man with a long white beard parted in the middle and rusty coloured at the tips.

A graceful slip of a girl, lithe as a marsh sapling, worked the tiller of the rear barge and she took no notice of the soldiers on the sh.o.r.e or in the water.

"Going to bathe, Stoner?" I asked. (p. 226)

"When the barges go by," he answered and I twitted him on his modesty.

Goliath, six foot three of magnificent bone and muscle was in the ca.n.a.l. Sw.a.n.king his trudgeon stroke he surged through the dirty water like an excited whale, puffing and blowing. Bill, losing in every stroke, tried to race him, but retired beaten and very happy. The cold water rectified his temper, he was now in a most amiable humour. Pryor was away down the ca.n.a.l on the barge, when he came to the bridge he would dive off and race some of Section 4 boys back to the spot where I was sitting. There is an eternal and friendly rivalry between Sections 3 and 4.

"Stoner, going in?" I asked my comrade, who was standing stark on the bank.

"In a minute," he answered.

"Now," I said.

"Get in yourself ----"

"Presently," I replied, "but you go in now, unless you want to get shoved in."

He dived gracefully and came up near the other bank spluttering and shaking the water off his hair. Bill challenged him to a race and both struck off down the stream, as they swam pa.s.sing jokes with their (p. 227) comrades on the bank. In the course of ten minutes they returned, perched proudly on the stern of a barge and making ready to dive. At that moment I undressed and went in.

My swim was a very short one; shorter than usual, and I am not much of a swimmer. A searching sh.e.l.l sped over from the German lines. .h.i.t the ground a few hundred yards to rear of the Ca.n.a.l and whirled a shower of dust into the water, which speedily delivered several hundred nude fighters to the clothes-littered bank. A second and third sh.e.l.l dropping nearer drove all modest thoughts from our minds for the moment (unclothed, a man feels helplessly defenceless), and we hurried into our warrens through throngs of women rus.h.i.+ng out to take in their was.h.i.+ng.

One of the sh.e.l.ls. .h.i.t the artillery horse lines on the left of the village and seven horses were killed.

CHAPTER XVII (p. 228)

EVERYDAY LIFE AT THE FRONT

There's the b.u.t.ter, gad, and horse-fly, The blow-fly and the blue, The fine fly and the coa.r.s.e fly, But never flew a worse fly Of all the flies that flew

Than the little sneaky black fly That gobbles up our ham, The beggar's not a slack fly, He really is a crack fly, And wolfs the soldiers jam.

So strafe that fly! Our motto Is "strafe him when you can."

He'll die because he ought to, He'll go because he's got to, So at him every man!

What time we have not been in the trenches we have spent marching out or marching back to them, or sleeping in billets at the rear and going out as working parties, always ready to move at two hours' notice by day and one hour's notice by night.

I got two days C.B. at La Beuvriere; because I did not come out on parade one morning. I really got out of bed very early, and went for a walk. Coming to a pond where a number of frogs were hopping from (p. 229) the bank into the water, I sat down and amused myself by watching them staring at me out of the pond; their big, intelligent eyes full of some wonderful secret. They interested and amused me, probably I interested and amused them, one never knows. Then I read a little and time flew by. On coming back I was told to report at the Company orderly room. Two days C.B.

I got into trouble at another time. I was on sentry go at a dingy place, a village where the people make their living by selling bad beer and weak wine to one another. Nearly every house in the place is an _estaminet_. I slept in the guard-room and as my cartridge pouches had an unholy knack of prodding a stomach which rebelled against digesting bully and biscuit, I unloosed my equipment buckles. The Visiting Rounds found me imperfectly dressed, my shoulder flaps wobbled, my haversack hung with a slant and the cartridge pouches leant out as if trying to spring on my feet. The next evening I was up before the C.O.

My hair was rather long, and as it was well-brushed it looked imposing.

So I thought in the morning when I looked in the platoon mirror--the platoon mirror was an inch square gla.s.s with a jagged edge. My (p. 230) imposing hair caught the C.O.'s eye the moment I entered the orderly room. "Don't let me see you with hair like that again," he began and read out the charge. I forget the words which hinted that I was a wrong-doer in the eyes of the law military; the officers were there, every officer in the battalion, they all looked serious and resigned.

It seemed as if their minds had been made up on something relating to me.

The orderly officer who apprehended me in the act told how he did it, speaking as if from a book but consulting neither notes nor papers.

"What have you to say?" asked the C.O. looking at me.

I had nothing particular to say, my thoughts were busy on an enigma that might not interest him, namely, why a young officer near him kept rubbing a meditative chin with a fugitive finger, and why that finger came down so swiftly when the C.O.'s eyes were turned towards the young man. I replied to the question by saying "Guilty."

"We know you are guilty," said the C.O. and gave me a little lecture.

I had a reputation, the young men of the regiment looked up to me, an older man; and by setting a good example I could do a great deal (p. 231) of good, &c., &c. The lecture was very trying, but the rest of the proceedings were interesting. I was awarded three extra guards. I only did one of them.

We hung on the fringe of the Richebourge _melee_, but were not called into play.

"What was it like?" we asked the men marching back from battle in the darkness and the rain. There was no answer, they were too weary even to speak.