CHAPTER I
FROM SHELL CRATER TO FIRST AID
There were three figures lying in the bottom of the great shell crater that yawned close to the German line. It had been made by a French shell, so a great mound of dirt had been cast up on the side next the enemy. One of the bodies in the close group lay in the stiff, distorted attitude in which a sudden and horrible death had frozen him. The second lay quite limp, unseeing, uncaring�the attitude of a man desperately hurt. Only the third, rather small and slender, lay curled up much as a vigilant cat might, trying to give the impression of sleep or death, but with every faculty and nerve like live wires. His eyes were open, and with every ounce of force in him he was listening, plotting and planning.
Under the thick mud the uniforms worn by the different men were indistinguishable. The coating was a thick, slimy, even gray. The figure whose alert, piercing eyes studied his surroundings so carefully shivered steadily. He was chilled to the bone. As it grew darker, he rolled slowly over on his back, and for a while studied the edge of the crater as its rough edges showed dark against the sky. All seemed well. Not a head, not a bayonet, could cut that jagged line without his knowing it. The Huns would not make a sortie now. Exhausted themselves, they were depending on the exhaustion of the French for a short, unspoken truce of a few hours.
The living figure in the crater rolled over and on hands and knees crept to the body nearest him. He felt over it carefully. The face, drained of blood, was ghastly cold in the steady, fine rain that beat on it; but there was life in that still body. If he could only get help!
1118960318
FROM SHELL CRATER TO FIRST AID
There were three figures lying in the bottom of the great shell crater that yawned close to the German line. It had been made by a French shell, so a great mound of dirt had been cast up on the side next the enemy. One of the bodies in the close group lay in the stiff, distorted attitude in which a sudden and horrible death had frozen him. The second lay quite limp, unseeing, uncaring�the attitude of a man desperately hurt. Only the third, rather small and slender, lay curled up much as a vigilant cat might, trying to give the impression of sleep or death, but with every faculty and nerve like live wires. His eyes were open, and with every ounce of force in him he was listening, plotting and planning.
Under the thick mud the uniforms worn by the different men were indistinguishable. The coating was a thick, slimy, even gray. The figure whose alert, piercing eyes studied his surroundings so carefully shivered steadily. He was chilled to the bone. As it grew darker, he rolled slowly over on his back, and for a while studied the edge of the crater as its rough edges showed dark against the sky. All seemed well. Not a head, not a bayonet, could cut that jagged line without his knowing it. The Huns would not make a sortie now. Exhausted themselves, they were depending on the exhaustion of the French for a short, unspoken truce of a few hours.
The living figure in the crater rolled over and on hands and knees crept to the body nearest him. He felt over it carefully. The face, drained of blood, was ghastly cold in the steady, fine rain that beat on it; but there was life in that still body. If he could only get help!
The Boy Scouts to the Rescue
CHAPTER I
FROM SHELL CRATER TO FIRST AID
There were three figures lying in the bottom of the great shell crater that yawned close to the German line. It had been made by a French shell, so a great mound of dirt had been cast up on the side next the enemy. One of the bodies in the close group lay in the stiff, distorted attitude in which a sudden and horrible death had frozen him. The second lay quite limp, unseeing, uncaring�the attitude of a man desperately hurt. Only the third, rather small and slender, lay curled up much as a vigilant cat might, trying to give the impression of sleep or death, but with every faculty and nerve like live wires. His eyes were open, and with every ounce of force in him he was listening, plotting and planning.
Under the thick mud the uniforms worn by the different men were indistinguishable. The coating was a thick, slimy, even gray. The figure whose alert, piercing eyes studied his surroundings so carefully shivered steadily. He was chilled to the bone. As it grew darker, he rolled slowly over on his back, and for a while studied the edge of the crater as its rough edges showed dark against the sky. All seemed well. Not a head, not a bayonet, could cut that jagged line without his knowing it. The Huns would not make a sortie now. Exhausted themselves, they were depending on the exhaustion of the French for a short, unspoken truce of a few hours.
The living figure in the crater rolled over and on hands and knees crept to the body nearest him. He felt over it carefully. The face, drained of blood, was ghastly cold in the steady, fine rain that beat on it; but there was life in that still body. If he could only get help!
FROM SHELL CRATER TO FIRST AID
There were three figures lying in the bottom of the great shell crater that yawned close to the German line. It had been made by a French shell, so a great mound of dirt had been cast up on the side next the enemy. One of the bodies in the close group lay in the stiff, distorted attitude in which a sudden and horrible death had frozen him. The second lay quite limp, unseeing, uncaring�the attitude of a man desperately hurt. Only the third, rather small and slender, lay curled up much as a vigilant cat might, trying to give the impression of sleep or death, but with every faculty and nerve like live wires. His eyes were open, and with every ounce of force in him he was listening, plotting and planning.
Under the thick mud the uniforms worn by the different men were indistinguishable. The coating was a thick, slimy, even gray. The figure whose alert, piercing eyes studied his surroundings so carefully shivered steadily. He was chilled to the bone. As it grew darker, he rolled slowly over on his back, and for a while studied the edge of the crater as its rough edges showed dark against the sky. All seemed well. Not a head, not a bayonet, could cut that jagged line without his knowing it. The Huns would not make a sortie now. Exhausted themselves, they were depending on the exhaustion of the French for a short, unspoken truce of a few hours.
The living figure in the crater rolled over and on hands and knees crept to the body nearest him. He felt over it carefully. The face, drained of blood, was ghastly cold in the steady, fine rain that beat on it; but there was life in that still body. If he could only get help!
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The Boy Scouts to the Rescue
The Boy Scouts to the Rescue
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940149511907 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Bronson Tweed Publishing |
| Publication date: | 03/25/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 329 KB |
| Age Range: | 9 - 12 Years |
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