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diff --git a/3288-h/3288-h.htm b/3288-h/3288-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12a3ba0 --- /dev/null +++ b/3288-h/3288-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17809 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sky Pilot in No Man's Land, by Ralph Connor</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sky Pilot in No Man’s Land, by Ralph Connor</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Sky Pilot in No Man’s Land</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ralph Connor</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 15, 2001 [eBook #3288]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 4, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Donald Lainson and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY PILOT IN NO MAN’S LAND ***</div> + + <h1> + THE SKY PILOT IN NO MAN'S LAND + </h1> + + <h2> + By Ralph Connor + </h2> + + <hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. ONLY A MISSIONARY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. ON THE RED PINE TRAIL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. A QUESTION OF CONSCIENCE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. REJECTED</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. THE WAR DRUM CALLS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. THE MEN OF THE NORTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. BARRICADES AND BAYONETS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. A QUESTION OF NERVE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. SUBMARINES, BULLPUPS, AND OTHER THINGS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. FRANCE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. THE NEW MESSAGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. A MAN OF GOD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. INTENSIVE TRAINING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTER XIV. A TOUCH OF WAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. THINNING RANKS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0016">CHAPTER XVI. THE PASSING OF McCUAIG</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0017">CHAPTER XVII. LONDON LEAVE AND PHYLLIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0018">CHAPTER XVIII. A WEDDING JOURNEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0019">CHAPTER XIX. THE PILOT'S LAST PORT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0020">CHAPTER XX. “CARRY ON”</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + <hr /> + + <h2> + THE SKY PILOT IN NO MAN'S LAND + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + ONLY A MISSIONARY + </h3> + <p> + High upon a rock, poised like a bird for flight, stark naked, his satin + skin shining like gold and silver in the rising sun, stood a youth, tall, + slim of body, not fully developed but with muscles promising, in their + faultless, gently swelling outline, strength and suppleness to an unusual + degree. Gazing down into the pool formed by an eddy of the river twenty + feet below him, he stood as if calculating the distance, his profile + turned toward the man who had just emerged from the bushes and was + standing on the sandy strand of the river, paddle in hand, looking up at + him with an expression of wonder and delight in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ye gods, what a picture!” said the man to himself. + </p> + <p> + Noiselessly, as if fearing to send the youth off in flight, he laid his + paddle on the sand, hurriedly felt in his pockets, and swore to himself + vigorously when he could find no sketch book there. + </p> + <p> + “What a pose! What an Apollo!” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + The sunlight glistening on the beautiful white skin lay like pools of gold + in the curving hollows of the perfectly modelled body, and ran like silver + over the rounded swellings of the limbs. Instinct with life he seemed, + something in his pose suggesting that he had either alighted from the + golden, ambient air, or was about to commit himself to it. The man on the + sand continued to gaze as if he were beholding a creature of another + world. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord! What lines!” he breathed. + </p> + <p> + Slowly the youth began to move his arms up to the horizontal, then to the + perpendicular, reaching to the utmost of his height upon his toe tips, + breathing deep the while. Smoothly, slowly, the muscles in legs and + thighs, in back, in abdomen, in chest, responding to the exercise moved + under the lustrous skin as if themselves were living things. Over and over + again the action was repeated, the muscles and body moving in rhythmic + harmony like some perfect mechanism running in a bath of oil. + </p> + <p> + “Ye gods of Greece!” breathed the man. “What is this + thing I see? Flesh or spirit? Man or god?” Again he swore at himself + for neglecting to bring his sketch book and pencil. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, father! Where are you?” A girl's voice rang out, + high, clear, and near at hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” said the man to himself, glancing up at the + poised figure. “I must stop her.” + </p> + <p> + One startled glance the youth flung down upon him, another in the + direction of the voice, then, like a white, gleaming arrow he shot down, + and disappeared in the dark pool below. + </p> + <p> + With his eyes upon the water the man awaited his reappearing. A half + minute, a full minute he waited, but in vain. Swiftly he ran toward the + edge of the pool. There was no sign anywhere of the youth. + </p> + <p> + Ghastly pale and panting, the man ran, as far round the base of the rock + as the water would allow him, seeking everywhere signs of the swimmer. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, father! Oh, there you are!” Breaking through the + bushes, a girl ran to him. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, pater? You are ill. What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! he was there!” gasped the man, pointing to the + high rock. “He plunged in there.” He pointed to the pool. + “He hasn't come up. He is drowned.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? What are you saying? Wake up, father. Who was there?” + </p> + <p> + “A boy! A young man! He disappeared down there.” + </p> + <p> + “A young man? Was he—was he—dressed?” inquired the + girl. + </p> + <p> + “Dressed? No. No.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he—did he—hear me—calling?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he did. That's what startled him, I imagine. Poor + boy! I fear he is gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he fall in, or did he dive?” + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to dive, but he has not come up. I fear he is gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense, father,” said the girl. “I bet you he has + swum round the bend. Just go over the rock and see.” + </p> + <p> + “God grant it!” said her father. + </p> + <p> + He dropped his paddle, ran up over the rock and down into the little dell + on the other side that ran down to the water's edge. There he saw a + tent, with all the accompaniments of a well ordered camp, and a man + cooking breakfast on a small fire. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be combusticated!” he said to himself, + weakly holding to a little poplar tree. + </p> + <p> + “I say!” he cried, “where is he? Has he come in? Is he + all right?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said the man at the fire. + </p> + <p> + “The boy on the rock.” + </p> + <p> + The man gazed at him astonished, then as if suddenly grasping his meaning, + replied, + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he came in. He's dressing in the tent.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be condumbusticated!” said the man. “Say! + what the devil does he mean by scaring people out of their senses in that + way!” + </p> + <p> + The man at the fire stood gazing at him in an utterly bewildered way. + </p> + <p> + “If you will tell me exactly what you are after, I may be able to + help you.” + </p> + <p> + The other drew slowly near the fire. He was still pale, and breathing + quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, dad, is breakfast ready?” came a cheery voice from the + tent. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, he is alive apparently,” said the man, sinking + down on a log beside the fire. “You must pardon me, sir,” he + said. “You see, I saw him take a header into the pool from that high + rock over yonder, and he never came up again. I thought he was drowned.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the fire smiled. + </p> + <p> + “The young villain gave you a fright, did he? One of his usual + tricks. Well, as his father, and more or less responsible for him, I offer + the most humble apology. Have you had breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But why did he do such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask him. Here he comes.” + </p> + <p> + Out from the tent came the youth in shorts, the warm glow of his body + showing through the filmy material. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he cried, backing toward the tent door. “You + are the man with the paddle. Is there by any chance a lady with you, or + did I hear a lady's voice over there? I assure you I got a deuce of + a fright.” + </p> + <p> + “You gave me the supreme fright of my life, young man, I can tell + you that.” + </p> + <p> + “But I surely heard a lady's voice,” said the youth. + </p> + <p> + “You did. It was my daughter's voice, and it was she who + suggested that you had swum around the bend. And she sent me over here to + investigate.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, your daughter. Excuse me,” said the youth. “I shall + be out in a few minutes.” He slid into the tent, and did not + reappear. + </p> + <p> + The man remained chatting with the youth's father for a few minutes, + then rising said, + </p> + <p> + “Well, I feel better. I confess this thing gave me something of a + shock. But come round and see us before we go. We shall be leaving in an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the fire promised to make the visit, and the other took his + departure. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later the youth reappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Is breakfast ready?” he cried. “My, but I'm + hungry! But who is he, dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said his father, “and get your breakfast + while it is hot.” + </p> + <p> + “But who is he, dad?” persisted the youth. + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” said his father, dishing up the bacon. “An + oil explorer, an artist, a capitalist, an American from Pittsburgh, the + father of one child, a girl. Her mother is dead. Nineteen years old, + athletic, modern type, college bred, 'boss of the show' + (quotation). These are a few of the facts volunteered within the limited + space of his visit.” + </p> + <p> + “What's he like, dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Like? Like an American.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, dad, don't allow your old British prejudices to run away + with your judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I am perfectly charmed. He is one of those + Americans who capture you at once, educated, frank, open, with that + peculiar charm that Britishers will not be able to develop for many + generations. An American, but not of the unspeakable type. Not at all. You + will like him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I shall,” replied the youth. “I liked his + voice and his face. I like the Americans. I met such nice chaps at + college. So clever, and with such a vocabulary.” + </p> + <p> + “Vocabulary? Well, I'm not too sure as to the vocabulary part + of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, such bright, pat, expressive slang, so fresh and in such + variety. So different from your heavy British slang, in which everything + approaching the superlative must be one of three things, 'ripping,' + with very distinct articulation on the double p, or 'top hole,' + or 'awfully jolly.' More recently, I believe, a fourth + variation is allowed in 'priceless.' + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my boy, you have unconsciously uttered a most searching + criticism on your American friends. Don't you know that a vocabulary + rich in slang is poverty stricken in forceful and well chosen English? The + wealth of the one is the poverty of the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he going?” enquired the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Out by way of Edmonton, Calgary, Moose Jaw, Minneapolis, so on to + Pittsburgh. Partner with him, young lawyer, expert in mines, unmarried. He + is coming back in a couple of months or so for a big hunt. Wants us to + join him. Really extraordinary, when you come to think of it, how much + information he was able to convey in such a short space of time. + Marvellous gift of expression!” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Say? Oh, as to his invitation! Why, I believe I accepted, my boy. + It seemed as if I could do nothing else. It's a way he has.” + </p> + <p> + “Is—is the daughter to be along?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see. What did he say? Really, I don't know. But I + should judge that it would be entirely as she wished. She is—” + </p> + <p> + “Boss of the show, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Most vivid phrase, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Very. And no doubt aptly descriptive of the fact.” + </p> + <p> + In half an hour the breakfast was finished, and the elder man got his pipe + a-going. + </p> + <p> + “Now, dad, you had better go along and make your call, while I get + things together here.” + </p> + <p> + “What! You not going! No, no, that won't do, my boy. It was + about you they were concerned. You were the occasion of the + acquaintanceship. Besides, meeting in the wilderness this way we can't + do that sort of thing, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, dad, frankly, I am quite terrified of the young lady. Suppose + she should start bossing us. We should both be quite helpless.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense, boy! Come along. Get your hat.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'll come. On your head be the consequences, dad. + No. I don't need a hat. Fortunately I put on a clean shirt. Will I + do, dad? You know I'm 'scairt stiff,' as Harry Hobbs + would say.” + </p> + <p> + His father looked him over, but there was nothing critical in his glance. + Pride and love filled his eyes as they ran over his son's face and + figure. And small wonder! The youth was good to look upon. A shade under + six feet he stood, straight and slim, strength and supple grace in every + move of his body. His face was beautiful with the beauty of features, + clean cut and strong, but more with the beauty of a clear, candid soul. He + seemed to radiate an atmosphere of cheery good nature and unspoiled + simplicity. He was two years past his majority, yet he carried the air of + a youth of eighteen, in which shyness and fearlessness looked out from his + deep blue eyes. It was well that he wore no hat to hide the mass of rich + brown hair that waved back from his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “You'll do, boy,” said his father, in a voice whose + rigid evenness of tone revealed the emotion it sought to conceal. “You'll + take all the shine from me, you young beggar,” he added in a tone of + gruff banter, “but there was a time—” + </p> + <p> + “WAS a time, dad? IS, and don't tell me you don't know + it. I always feel like a school kid in any company when you're + about. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'When the sun comes out + All the little stars run in,'” + </pre> + <p> + he sang from a late music hall effusion. “Why, just come here and + look at yourself,” and the boy's eyes dwelt with affectionate + pride upon his father. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to see where the boy got his perfect form. Not so tall as his + son, he was more firmly knit, and with a kind of dainty neatness in his + appearance which suggested the beau in earlier days. But there was nothing + of weakness about the erect, trim figure. A second glance discovered a + depth of chest, a thickness of shoulder and of thigh, and a general + development of muscle such as a ring champion might show; and, indeed, it + was his achievements in the ring rather than in the class lists that won + for Dick Dunbar in his college days his highest fame. And though his fifty + years had slowed somewhat the speed of foot and hand, the eye was as sure + as ever, and but little of the natural force was abated which once had + made him the glory of the Cambridge sporting youth, and which even yet + could test his son's mettle in a fast bout. + </p> + <p> + On the sandy shore of the river below the eddy, they found the American + and his party gathered, with their stuff ranged about them ready for the + canoes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, here you are, sir,” said the American, advancing hat in + hand. “And this is your son, the young rascal who came mighty near + giving me heart failure this morning. By the way, I haven't the + pleasure of knowing your name.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Richard Dunbar, and this is my son Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Osborne Howland, of Pittsburgh, and this is my daughter + Paula. In bloomers, as you see, but nevertheless my daughter. Meet also my + friend and partner, Mr. Cornwall Brand.” + </p> + <p> + The party exchanged greetings, and spent some moments giving utterance to + those platitudes which are so useful in such circumstances, a sort of + mental marking time preparatory to further mutual acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + The girl possessed that striking, dashing kind of brunette beauty that + goes with good health, good living, and abundance of outdoor exercise. She + carried herself with that air of assured self-confidence that comes as the + result of a somewhat wide experience of men, women and things. She quite + evidently scorned the conventions, as her garb, being quite masculine, her + speech being outspoken and decorated with the newest and most ingenious + slang, her whole manner being frankly impulsive, loudly proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But Barry liked her at once, and made no pretence of concealing his + liking. To her father, also, he was immediately drawn. As to Cornwall + Brand, between whom and the girl there seemed to exist a sort of + understanding, he was not so sure. + </p> + <p> + For half an hour or so they stood by the river exchanging their + experiences in these northern wilds, and their views upon life in the + wilderness and upon things in general. By a little skilful managing the + girl got the young man away from the others, and then proceeded to dissect + and classify him. + </p> + <p> + Through the open woods along the river bank they wandered, pausing here + and there to admire the view, until they came to an overhanging bank at + the entrance to a somewhat deep gorge, through which the river foamed to + the boiling rapids below. It was indeed a beautiful scene. The banks of + the river were covered with every variety of shrub and tree, except where + the black rocks broke through; between the banks the dark river raged and + fretted itself into a foam against its rocky barriers; over them arched + the sky, a perfect blue. + </p> + <p> + “What a lovely view!” exclaimed the girl, seating herself upon + the edge of the bank. “Now,” she said, “tell me about + yourself. You gave my pater a fearful fright this morning. He was quite + paralysed when I came on him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” said the youth, “but I had no + intention—” + </p> + <p> + “I know. I told him not to worry,” replied the girl. “I + knew you would be all right.” + </p> + <p> + “And how, pray?” said the young man, blushing at the memory of + his startling appearance upon that rock. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that any fellow who could take that dive wouldn't + likely let himself drown. I guessed, too, that if you heard me hoot—” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said the youth. + </p> + <p> + “You sure would get slippy right away.” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you were pretty well startled yourself, weren't you?” + said the girl, pursuing the subject with cool persistence. + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” said the young man, blushing more violently, and + wishing she would change the subject. “You are going out?” he + enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “To-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Now—right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Too bad,” he said, his disappointment evident in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “When are you going out? But who are you, anyway?” asked the + girl. “You have to tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “My life story, so to speak?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It's very short and simple, like the annals of the poor,” + he replied. “From England in infancy, on a ranch in northern Alberta + for ten years, a puny little wretch I was, terribly bothered with asthma, + then”—the boy hesitated a moment—“my mother died, + father moved to Edmonton, lived there for five years, thence to Wapiti, + away northwest of Edmonton, our present home, prepared for college by my + father, university course in Winnipeg, graduated in theology a year ago, + now the missionary in charge of Wapiti and the surrounding district.” + </p> + <p> + “A preacher!” said the girl, her face and her tone showing her + disappointment only too plainly. + </p> + <p> + “Not much of a preacher, I fear,” said the young man with a + smile. “A missionary, rather. That's my story.” + </p> + <p> + She noticed with some chagrin that he did not ask for hers. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” she enquired. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment or two. + </p> + <p> + “Dad and I always take a trip into the wilds every summer.” + Then he added after a few moments' pause, “But of course we + have other business on hand up here.” + </p> + <p> + “Business? Up here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Dad has some.” He made as if to continue, but changed + his mind and fell into silence, leaving her piqued by his reserve and by + his apparent indifference to the things concerning herself. She did not + know that he was eagerly hoping that she would supply this information. + </p> + <p> + At length he ventured, “Must you go away to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't suppose there's any 'must' about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not stay?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it would be jolly,” he cried. “You see, we could—explore + about here—and,”—he ended rather lamely,—“it's + a lovely country.” + </p> + <p> + “We've seen a lot of it. It IS lovely,” she said, her + eyes upon his face as if appraising him. “I should like to know you + better,” she added, with sudden and characteristic frankness, + “so I think we will stay. But you will have to be awfully good to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” he cried. “That's splendid! + Perfectly jolly!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we had better find father and tell him. Come along,” she + ordered, and led the way back to the camp. + </p> + <p> + The young man followed her, wondering at her, and giving slight heed to + the chatter she flung over her shoulder at him as she strode along through + the bushes. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you?” she cried, facing round + upon him. “You were thinking about me, I know. Confess, now.” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” he acknowledged, smiling at her. + </p> + <p> + “What were you thinking? Tell me,” she insisted. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking—” He paused. + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of what your father said about you.” + </p> + <p> + “My father? About me? What did he say? To you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. To dad.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it? Tell me. I must know.” She was very imperious in + her manner. The youth only smiled at her. + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” she said impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I think possibly your father was right,” he replied, “when + he said you 'boss the show.'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's what he said, eh? Well, I guess he's about + right.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't really?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't what? 'Boss the show'? Well, I boss my own + show, at any rate. Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I what, exactly? Boss the show? Well, I don't + think we have any 'show,' and I don't believe we have + any 'boss.' Dad and I just talk things over, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” she insisted, “some one in the last analysis must + decide. Your menage, no matter how simple, must have a head. It is a law + of the universe itself, and it is the law of mankind. You see, I have done + some political economy.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” said the young man, “you say you run your own + show?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Every social organism must have a head, but every + individual in the organism must live its own free life. That is true + democracy. But of course you don't understand democracy, you + Canadians.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! There you are! You Americans are the most insular of all the + great peoples of the world. You know nothing of other people. You know + only your own history and not even that correctly, your own geography, and + your own political science. You know nothing of Canada. You don't + know, for instance, that the purest form of democracy on this American + continent lies outside the bounds of the U. S. A.” + </p> + <p> + “In Canada?” she asked scornfully. “By the way, how many + Canadians are there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. We are a small people,” he said quietly, “but + no more real democracy exists anywhere in the world than in this country + of mine. We are a small people, but,” he said, with a sweep of his + hand toward the west and the north, “the future is with us. The day + is coming when along this waterway great cities shall be, with factories + and humming industries. These plains, these flowing hills will be the home + of millions of men, and in my lifetime, too.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes began to glow, his face to shine with a rare and fascinating + beauty. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the statistics of your country? Do you know that during + the last twenty years the rate of Canada's growth was three times + greater than ever in the history of the United States? You are a great + commercial nation, but do you know that the per capita rate of Canada's + trade to-day is many times that of the United States? You are a great + agricultural people, but do you know that three-quarters of the wheat land + on this continent is Canadian, and that before many years you will be + coming to Canada for your wheat, yes, and for your flour? Do you see that + river? Do you know that Canada is the richest country in the world in + water power? And more than that, in the things essential to national + greatness,—not these things that you can see, these material things,” + he said, sweeping his hand contemptuously toward the horizon, “but + in such things as educational standards, in administration of justice, in + the customs of a liberty loving people, in religious privileges, in + everything that goes to make character and morale, Canada has already laid + the foundations of a great nation.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped short, abashed, the glow fading from his face, the light from + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” he said, with a little laugh. “I am a + first class ass. I fear I was blowing like a fog horn. But when you touch + Canada you release something in me.” + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking her eyes never left his face. “Go on!” + she said, in a voice of suppressed emotion, “go on. I love to hear + you.” + </p> + <p> + Her wonted poise was gone; she was obviously stirred with deep emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” she commanded, laying her hand upon his arm. “Don't + stop. Tell me more about—about Canada, about anything,” she + added impatiently. + </p> + <p> + A warm, eager light filled her eyes. She was biting her lips to still + their tremor. + </p> + <p> + “There's plenty to tell about Canada,” he said, “but + not now. What started me? Oh, democracy. Yes, it was you that began it. + Democracy? After all, it is worth while that the people who are one day to + fill this wide land should be truly democratic, truly free, and truly + great.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the light began to burn in his eyes and in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, to have a hand in that!” + </p> + <p> + “And you,” she said in a low voice, “you with all that + in you, are only a preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “A missionary,” he corrected. + </p> + <p> + “Well, a missionary. Only a missionary.” + </p> + <p> + Disappointment and scorn were all too evident in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “ONLY a missionary. Ah, if I could only be one. A missionary! With a + mission and a message to my people! If only I had the gift of tongues, of + flaming, burning, illuminating speech, of heart-compelling speech! To tell + my people how to make this country truly great and truly free, how to keep + it free from the sordid things, the cruel things, the unjust, the unclean, + the loathsome things that have debased and degraded the older nations, + that are debasing and degrading even your young, great nation. Ah, to be a + missionary with a tongue of fire, with a message of light! A missionary to + my people to help them to high and worthy living, to help them to God! + ONLY a missionary! What would you have me? A money-maker?” + </p> + <p> + He turned swiftly upon her, a magnetic, compelling personality. From the + furious scorn in his voice and in his flaming face she visibly shrank, + almost as if he had struck her. + </p> + <p> + “No!” she breathed. “Nothing else. Only a missionary.” + </p> + <p> + Silent she stood, as if still under the spell of his words, her eyes + devouring his face. + </p> + <p> + “How your mother would have loved you, would have been proud of you,” + she said in a low tone. “Is—is there no one else to—to + rejoice in you?” she asked shyly, but eagerly. + </p> + <p> + He laughed aloud. “There's dad, dear old dad.” + </p> + <p> + “And no one else?” Still with shy, eager eyes she held him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, heaps,” he cried, still laughing. + </p> + <p> + She smiled upon him, a slightly uncertain smile, and yet as if his answer + somehow satisfied her. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye,” she said impulsively, offering her hand. + </p> + <p> + “But you are not going! You're staying a few days!” he + gasped. + </p> + <p> + “No, we're going. We're going right away. Goodbye,” + she said. “I don't want those others to see. Goodbye. Oh, it's + been a wonderful morning! And,—and—a friend is a wonderful + discovery.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand held his in a strong, warm grasp, but her eyes searched his face + as if seeking something she greatly desired. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye. I am sorry you are going,” he said, simply. “I + want to know you better.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” she cried, with a sudden eagerness in her voice and + manner. Then, “No. You would be disappointed. I am not of your + world. But you shall see me again,” she added, as if taking a new + resolve. “We are coming back on a big hunt, and you and your father + are to join us. Won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Dad said we should,” said the youth, smiling at the + remembrance. + </p> + <p> + “And you?” she said, with a touch of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “If things can so arrange themselves—my work, I mean, and dad's.” + </p> + <p> + “But, do you want to? Do you really want to?” she asked. + “I wish I knew. I hate not to understand people. You are hard to + know. I don't know you. But you will come?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” said the young man. “Of course a fellow's + work comes first, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Work?” she cried. “Your work? Oh, your missionary work. + Oh, yes, yes. I should like to see you at it. Come, let us go.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cornwall Brand they found in a fever of impatience. He had the trip + scheduled to a time table, and he hated to be forced to change his plans. + His impatience showed itself in snappy commands and inquiries to his + Indian guides, who, however, merely grunted replies. They knew their job + and did it without command or advice, and with complete indifference to + anything the white man might have to say. To Paula the only change in his + manner was an excess of politeness. + </p> + <p> + Her father, however, met her with remonstrances. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Paula, my dear, you have kept us waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the rush, pater?” she enquired, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, we are already behind our schedule, and you know + Cornwall hates that,” he said in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Cornwall!” said Paula, in a loud voice of unmistakable ill + temper. “Does Cornwall run this outfit?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Paula!” again remonstrated her father. + </p> + <p> + She turned to him impatiently, with an angry word at her lips, caught upon + Barry's face a look of surprise, paused midway in her passion, then + moved slowly toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she asked, in an even, cold voice, “what do you + think about it? And anyway,” she dropped her voice so that none + heard but himself, “why should you halt me? Who are you, to give me + pause this way?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a missionary,” he answered, in an equally low tone, but + with a smile gentle, almost wistful on his face. + </p> + <p> + As with a flash the wrathful cloud vanished. + </p> + <p> + “A missionary,” she replied softly. “God knows I need + one.” + </p> + <p> + “You do,” he said emphatically, and still he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Paula,” called Cornwall Brand. “We are all + waiting.” + </p> + <p> + Her face hardened at his words. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye,” she said to Barry. “I am coming back again + to—to your wonderful Canada.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you are,” said Barry, heartily. “They all do.” + </p> + <p> + He went with her to the canoe, steadied her as she took her place, and + stood watching till the bend in the river shut them from view. + </p> + <p> + “Nice people,” said his father. “Very fine, jolly girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, isn't she?” replied his son. + </p> + <p> + “Handsome, too,” said his father, glancing keenly at him. + </p> + <p> + “Is she? Yes, I think so. Yes, indeed, very,” he added, as if + pondering the matter. “When do we move, dad?” + </p> + <p> + A look of relief crossed the father's face. + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon, I think. We have only a few days now. We shall run + up Buffalo Creek into the Foothills for some trout. It will be a little + stiff, but you are fit enough now, aren't you, Barry?” His + voice was tinged with anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Fit for anything, dad, thanks to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to me, Barry. To yourself largely.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the boy, throwing his arm round his father's + shoulder, “thanks to you, dear old dad,—and to God.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + ON THE RED PINE TRAIL + </h3> + <p> + On the Red Pine trail two men were driving in a buckboard drawn by a pair + of half-broken pinto bronchos. The outfit was a rather ramshackle affair, + and the driver was like his outfit. Stewart Duff was a rancher, once a + “remittance man,” but since his marriage three years ago he + had learned self-reliance and was disciplining himself in self-restraint. + A big, lean man he was, his thick shoulders and large, hairy muscular + hands suggesting great physical strength, his swarthy face, heavy + features, coarse black hair, keen dark eyes, deepset under shaggy brows, + suggesting force of character with a possibility of brutality in passion. + Yet when he smiled his heavy face was not unkindly, indeed the smile gave + it a kind of rugged attractiveness. He was past his first youth, and on + his face were the marks of the stormy way by which he had come. + </p> + <p> + He drove his jibing bronchos with steady hands. No light touch was his + upon the reins, and the bronchos' wild plunging met with a check + from those muscular hands of such iron rigidity as to fling them back + helpless and amazed upon their hocks. + </p> + <p> + His companion was his opposite in physical appearance, and in those + features and lines that so unmistakably reveal the nature and character + within. Short and stout, inclined indeed to fat, to his great distress, + his thick-set figure indicated strength without agility, solidity without + resilience. He had a pleasant, open face, with a kindly, twinkling blue + eye that goes with a merry heart, with a genial, sunny soul. But there was + in the blue eye and in the open face, for all the twinkles and the smiles, + a certain alert shrewdness that proclaimed the keen man of business, and + in the clean cut lips lay the suggestion of resolute strength. A likable + man he was, with an infinite capacity for humour, but with a bedrock of + unyielding determination in him that always surprised those who judged him + lightly. + </p> + <p> + The men were friends, and had been comrades more or less during those + pioneer days that followed their arrival in the country from Scotland some + dozen years ago. Often they had fallen out with each other, for Duff was + stormy of temper and had a habit of letting himself swing out upon its + gusts of passion, reckless of consequences; but he was ever the one to + offer amends and to seek renewal of good relations. He had few friends, + and so he clung the more closely to those he had. At such times the other + would wait in cool, good-tempered but determined aloofness for his friend's + return. + </p> + <p> + “You can chew your cud till you're cool again,” he would + say when the outbreak would arise. But invariably their differences were + composed and their friendship remained unbroken. + </p> + <p> + The men sat in the buckboard, leaning forward with hunched shoulders, + swaying easily to the pitching of the vehicle as it rattled along the + trail which, especially where it passed over the round topped ridges, was + thickly strewn with stones. Before them, now on the trail and now ranging + wide over the prairie, ran a beautiful black and white English setter. + </p> + <p> + “Great dog that, Sandy,” said Duff. “I could have had a + dozen birds this afternoon. A wonderful nose, and steady as a rock.” + </p> + <p> + “A good dog, Stewart,” assented Sandy, but with slight + interest. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't another like him in this western country,” + said the owner of the dog with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know about that. There are some very good dogs + around here, Stewart,” replied Sandy lightly. + </p> + <p> + “But I know. And that's why I'm saying there ain't + his like in this western country, and that's as true as your name is + Sandy Bayne.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my name is Sandy Bayne, all right, but how did he come out at + the Calgary trials?” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, those damned gawks! They don't know a good dog from a + he-goat! They don't know what a dog is for, or how to use him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, Stewart,” said Sandy, “I guess Willocks knows + a dog when he sees one.” + </p> + <p> + “Willocks!” said his friend with scorn. “There's + where you're wrong. Do you know why he cut Slipper out of the Blue + Ribbon? Because he wouldn't range a mile away. Darned old fool! What's + the good of a point a mile away! Keeps you running over the whole + creation, makes you lose time, tires yourself and tires your dog; and more + than that, in nine cases out of ten you lose your bird. Give me a close + ranger. He cleans up as he goes, keeps your game right at your hand, and + gets you all the sport there is.” + </p> + <p> + “Who beat you, Stewart, in the trials?” + </p> + <p> + “That bitch of Snider's.” + </p> + <p> + “Man! Stewart, that's a beautiful bitch! I know her well. She's + a beautiful bitch!” Sandy began to show enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there you go! That's just what those fool judges said. + 'Beautiful dog! Beautiful dog!' Suppose she is! Looks ain't + everything. They're something, but the question is, does she get the + birds? Now, Slipper there got three birds to her one. Got 'em within + range, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but Stewart, yon's a good bitch,” said Sandy. + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” cried his friend, “I have bred more dogs in + the old country than those men ever saw in their lives.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be, Stewart, but yon's a good bitch,” + persisted Sandy. + </p> + <p> + For a mile more they discussed the merits of Slipper and of his rivals, + Sandy with his semi-humorous chaff extracting quiet amusement from his + friend's wrath, and the latter, though suspecting that he was being + drawn, unable to restrain his passionate championship of his dog. + </p> + <p> + At length Sandy, wearying of the discussion, caught sight of a figure far + before them on the trail. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that walking along there?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + Together they ran over the names of all who in this horse country were + unfortunate enough to be doomed to a pedestrian form of locomotion. + </p> + <p> + “Guess it's the preacher,” said Duff finally, whose eyes + were like a hawk's. + </p> + <p> + “He's been out at my place Sunday afternoon,” said + Sandy, “but I haven't met him myself. What sort is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me. I sometimes go with the madame to church, but + generally I fall asleep. He's no alarm clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you can't tell what sort of a preacher he is,” + said Sandy with a twinkle in his eye. “You can't hear much + when you are asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear enough to know that he's no good as a preacher. I hear + they're going to fire him.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what it is, Stewart,” said Sandy, “I don't + believe you would know a good sermon if you heard one.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that you say? I've heard the best preachers in + the country that breeds preachers, in the country where preachers grow + like the berries on the bramble bushes. I know preaching, and I like good + preaching, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come off, Stewart! You may be a good judge of dogs, but I'm + blowed if I am going to take you as a judge of preachers.” + </p> + <p> + “The same qualities in all of them, dogs, horses, preachers,” + insisted Duff. + </p> + <p> + “How do you make that out?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, take a horse. He must be a good-looker. This preacher is a + good-looker, all right, but looks ain't everything. Must be quick at + the start, must have good action, good style, staying power, and good at + the finish. Most preachers never know when to finish, and that's the + way with this man.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to take him up?” inquired Sandy, for they were + now close upon the man walking before them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess not,” replied Duff. “I haven't much + use for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, what's the matter with him? He looks rather puffed out,” + said Sandy. “Better take him up.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” replied Duff, pulling up his bronchos. “Good + day. Will you have a ride? Mr. Barry Dunbar, my friend Mr. Bayne.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad to meet you, Mr. Bayne,” said Barry, who was pale and + panting hard. “Thanks for the lift. The truth—is—I'm + rather—done up. A touch of asthma—the first—in five + years. An old trouble of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Get up here,” said Sandy. “There's room for three + in the seat.” + </p> + <p> + “No—thank you,—I should—crowd you,—all right + behind here. Beastly business—this asthma. Worse when—the + pollen—from the plants—is floating—about—so they + say. I don't know—nobody does—I fancy.” They drove + on, bumping over the stones, Barry gradually getting back his wind. The + talk of the men in the front seat had fallen again on dogs, Stewart + maintaining with ever increasing vehemence his expert knowledge of dogs, + of hunting dogs, and very especially of setter hunting dogs; his friend, + while granting his knowledge of dogs in general, questioning the + unprejudiced nature of his judgment as far as Slipper was concerned. + </p> + <p> + As Duff's declarations grew in violence they became more and more + elaborately decorated with profanity. In the full tide of their + conversation a quiet voice broke in: + </p> + <p> + “Too many 'damns.'” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Duff. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon!” said Sandy. + </p> + <p> + “Too many 'damns,'” said Barry, looking quietly at + Duff. + </p> + <p> + “Dams? Where?” said Duff, looking about. + </p> + <p> + “Beaver dams, do you mean?” enquired Sandy. “I don't + see any.” + </p> + <p> + “Too many 'damns,'” reiterated Barry. “You + don't need them. You really don't need them, you know, and + besides, they are not right. Profanity is quite useless, and it's + wicked.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be damned!” said Stewart in a low voice to + his friend. “He means us.” + </p> + <p> + “And quite right, too,” said Sandy solemnly. “You know + your English is rotten bad. Yes, sir,” he continued, turning round + to Barry, “I quite agree with you. My friend is quite unnecessarily + free in his speech.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you are just the same, you know,” said Barry. + “Not quite so many, but then you are not quite so excited.” + </p> + <p> + “Got you there, old sport,” grunted Duff, highly amused at + Sandy's discomfiture. But to Barry he said, “I guess it's + our own business how we express ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is, but, pardon me, not entirely so. There are others in + the world, you know, and you must consider others. The habit is a bad + habit, a rotten habit, and quite useless—silly, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Duff turned his back upon him. Sandy, giving his friend a nudge, burst + into a loud laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, sir,” he said, turning to Barry. “You + are quite right.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Slipper created a diversion. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said Duff. “Say! Look at him!” He pointed + to the dog. “Ain't he a picture!” + </p> + <p> + A hundred yards away stood Slipper, rigid, every muscle, every hair taut, + one foot arrested in air. + </p> + <p> + “I'll just get those,” said Duff, slipping out of the + buckboard and drawing the gun from beneath the seat. “Steady, old + boy, steady! Hold the lines, Sandy.” + </p> + <p> + He moved quickly toward the dog who, quivering with that mysterious + instinct found in the hunting dog, still held the point with taut muscles, + nose and tail in line. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” Barry called out. “It isn't the season + yet for chicken. I say, Mr. Duff,” he shouted, “it isn't + the chicken season, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Better leave him alone,” said Sandy. + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't the season yet! It is against the law!” + protested Barry indignantly. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Stewart Duff was closing up cautiously behind Slipper. + </p> + <p> + “Forward, old boy! Ste-e-e-ady! Forward!” The dog refused to + move. “Forward, Slipper!” + </p> + <p> + Still the dog remained rigid, as if nailed to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “On, Slipper!” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the dog turned his head with infinite caution half round toward his + master, as if in protest. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, there!” shouted Barry, “you know—” + </p> + <p> + Just as he called there was on all sides a great whirring of wings. A + dozen chicken flew up from under Duff's feet. Bang! Bang! went his + gun. + </p> + <p> + “Missed, as I'm a sinner!” exclaimed Sandy. “I + thought he was a better shot than that.” + </p> + <p> + Back came Duff striding wide toward the buckboard. Fifty yards away he + shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Say! what the devil do you mean calling like that at a man when he's + on the point of shooting!” His face was black with anger. He looked + ready to strike. Barry looked at him steadily. + </p> + <p> + “But, I was just reminding you that it was not the season for + chicken yet,” he said in the tone of a man prepared to reason the + matter. + </p> + <p> + “What's that got to do with it! And anyway, whose business is + it what I do but my own?” + </p> + <p> + “But it's against the law!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, blank the law! Besides—” + </p> + <p> + “Besides it isn't—well, you know, it isn't quite + sporting to shoot out of season.” Barry's manner was as if + dealing with a fractious child. + </p> + <p> + Duff, speechless with his passion, looked at him as if not quite sure what + form his vengeance should take. + </p> + <p> + “He's quite right, Stewart,” said his friend Sandy, who + was hugely enjoying himself. “You know well enough you are down on + the farmer chaps who go pot hunting before season. It's rotten + sport, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hell! Will you shut up! Can't I shoot over my dog when he + points? I'm not out shooting. If I want to give my dog a little + experience an odd bird or two don't matter. Besides, what the—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come on, Stewart! Get in, and get a move on! You know you are + in the wrong. But I thought you were a better shot than that,” added + Sandy. + </p> + <p> + His remark diverted Duff's rage. + </p> + <p> + “Better shot!” he stormed. “Who could shoot with a—a—a—” + he was feeling round helplessly for a properly effective word,—“with + a fellow yelling at you?” he concluded lamely. “I'd have + had a brace of them if it hadn't been for him.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” said Barry coolly, “I saved you from the + law.” + </p> + <p> + “Saved me from the law! What the devil do you mean, anyway?” + said Stewart. “If I want to pick up a bird who's to hinder me? + And what's the law got to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know, I'm not sure but it might have been my duty + to report you. I feel that all who break the game laws should be reported. + It is the only way to stop the lawless destruction of the game.” + </p> + <p> + Barry spoke in a voice of quiet deliberation, as if pondering the proper + action in the premises. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right, too,” said Sandy gravely, but with a twinkle in + his blue eye. “They ought to be reported. I have no use for those + poachers.” + </p> + <p> + Duff made no reply. His rage and disgust, mingled with the sense of his + being in the wrong, held him silent. No man in the whole country was + harder upon the game poachers than he, but to be held up in his action and + to be threatened with the law by this young preacher, whom he rather + despised anyway, seemed to paralyse his mental activities. It did not help + his self-control that he was aware that his friend was having his fun of + him. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, fortunately for the harmony of the party, their attention + was arrested by the appearance of a motor car driven at a furious rate + along the trail, and which almost before they were aware came honking upon + them. With a wild lurch the bronchos hurled themselves from the trail, + upsetting the buckboard and spilling its load. + </p> + <p> + Duff, cumbered with his gun, which he had reloaded, allowed one of the + reins to drop from his hands and the team went plunging about in a circle, + but Barry, the first to get to his feet, rushed to the rescue, snatched + the reins and held on till he had dragged the plunging bronchos to a halt. + </p> + <p> + The rage which had been boiling in Duff, and which with difficulty had + been held within bounds, suddenly burst all bonds of control. With a + fierce oath he picked up the gun which he had thrown aside in his struggle + with the horses, and levelled it at the speeding motor car. + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, Stewart, stop!” shouted Bayne, + springing toward his friend. + </p> + <p> + Barry was nearer and quicker. The shot went off, but his hand had knocked + up the gun. + </p> + <p> + “My God, Stewart! Are you clean crazy!” said Bayne, gripping + him by the arm. “Do you know what you are doing? You are not fit to + carry a gun!” + </p> + <p> + “I'd have bust his blanked tires for him, anyway!” + blustered Duff, though his face and voice showed that he had received a + shock. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you might have been a murderer by this time, and heading + for the pen, but for Dunbar here. You owe him more than you can ever pay, + you blanked fool!” + </p> + <p> + Duff made no reply, but busied himself with his horses. Nor did he speak + again till everything was in readiness for the road. + </p> + <p> + “Get in,” he then said gruffly, and that was his last word + until they drove into the village. + </p> + <p> + At the store he drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for the lift,” said Barry. “I should have had + a tough job to get back in time.” + </p> + <p> + Duff grunted at him, and passed on into the store. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to have met you,” said Bayne, shaking hands + warmly with him. “You have done us both a great service. He is my + friend, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I have offended him, all the same. But you see I couldn't + help it, could I?” + </p> + <p> + Bayne looked at his young, earnest face for a moment or two as if studying + him, then said with a curious smile, “No, I don't believe you + could have helped it.” And with that he passed into the store. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a chap is that preacher of yours?” he asked of + the storekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know; he ain't my church. Ask Innes there. He's + a pillar.” + </p> + <p> + Bayne turned to a long, lean, hard-faced man leaning against the counter. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Bayne, from Red Pine, Mr. Innes. I am interested in + knowing what sort of a chap your preacher is. He comes out to our section, + but I never met him till to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's no that bad,” said Innes cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Not worth a cent,” said a little, red headed man standing + near. “He can't preach for sour apples.” + </p> + <p> + “I wadna just say that, Mr. Hayes,” said Innes. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know, Innes?” retorted Hayes. “You know you + fall asleep before he gets rightly started.” + </p> + <p> + “I aye listen better with ma eyes shut.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and snore better, too, Mac,” said Hayes. “But I + don't blame you. Most of them go to sleep anyway. That's the + kind of preacher he is.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a chap is he? I mean what sort of man?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, for one thing, he's always buttin' in,” + volunteered a square-built military looking man standing near. “If + he'd stick to his gospel it wouldn't be so bad, but he's + always pokin' his nose into everything.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's no that bad,” said Innes again, “and as + for buttin' in, McFettridge, and preachin' the gospel, I doubt + the country is a good deal the better for the buttin' in that him + and his likes have done this past year. And besides, the bairns all like + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's not a bad sign, Mr. Innes,” said Sandy + Bayne, “and I'm not sure that I don't like him myself. + But I guess he butts in, all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ay! he butts in,” agreed Innes, “but I'm no + so sure that that's no a part of his job, too.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + A QUESTION OF CONSCIENCE + </h3> + <p> + The Dunbars lived in a cottage on a back street, which had the distinction + of being the only home on the street which possessed the adornment of a + garden. A unique garden it was, too. Indeed, with the single exception of + Judge Hepburn's garden, which was quite an elaborate affair, and + which was said to have cost the Judge a “pile of money,” there + was none to compare with it in the village of Wapiti. + </p> + <p> + Any garden on that bare, wind-swept prairie meant toil and infinite pains, + but a garden like that of the Dunbars represented in addition something of + genius. In conception, in design, and in execution the Dunbars' + garden was something apart. Visitors were taken 'round to the back + street to get a glimpse of the Dunbars' cottage and garden. + </p> + <p> + The garden was in two sections. That at the back of the cottage, sheltered + by a high, close board fence covered with Virginia creeper, was given over + to vegetables, and it was quite marvellous how, under Richard Dunbar's + care, a quarter of an acre of ground could grow such enormous quantities + of vegetables of all kinds. Next to the vegetable garden came the plot for + small fruits—strawberries, raspberries, currants, of rare varieties. + </p> + <p> + The front garden was devoted to flowers. Here were to be found the old + fashioned flowers dear to our grandmothers, and more particularly the old + fashioned flowers native to English and Scottish soil. Between the two + gardens a thick row of tall, splendid sunflowers made a stately hedge. + Then came larkspur, peonies, stocks, and sweet-williams, verbenas and + mignonette, with borders of lobelia and heliotrope. Along the fence were + sweet peas, for which Alberta is famous. + </p> + <p> + But it was the part of the garden close about the front porch and verandah + where the particular genius of Richard Dunbar showed itself. Here the + flowers native to the prairie, the coulee, the canyon, were gathered; the + early wind flower, the crowfoot and the buffalo bean, wild snowdrops and + violets. Over trellises ran the tiny morning-glory, with vetch and + trailing arbutus. A bed of wild roses grew to wonderful perfection. Later + in the year would be seen the yellow and crimson lilies, daisies white and + golden, and when other flowers had faded, golden rod and asters in + gorgeous contrast. The approach to the door of the house was by a gravel + walk bordered by these prairie flowers. + </p> + <p> + The house inside fulfilled the promise of the garden. The living room, + simple in its plan, plain in its furnishing, revealed everywhere that + touch in decorative adornment that spoke of the cultivated mind and + refined taste. A group of rare etchings had their place over the mantel + above a large, open fireplace. On the walls were to be seen really fine + copies of the world's most famous pictures, and on the panels which + ran 'round the walls were bits of pottery and china, relics of other + days and of other homes. + </p> + <p> + But what was most likely to strike the eye of a stranger on entering the + living room was the array of different kinds of musical instruments. At + one end of the room stood a small upright piano, a 'cello held one + corner, a guitar another; upon a table a cornet was deposited, and on the + piano a violin case could be seen, while a banjo hung from a nail on the + wall. + </p> + <p> + Near the fireplace a curiously carved pipe-rack hung, with some half dozen + pipes of weird design, evidently the collection of years, while just under + it a small table held the utensils sacred to the smoker. + </p> + <p> + When Barry entered he found the table set and everything in readiness for + tea. + </p> + <p> + “Awfully sorry I'm too late to help you with tea, dad. I have + had a long walk, and quite a deuce of a time getting home.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, boy. Glad you are here. The toast is ready, tea waiting + to be infused. But what happened? No, don't begin telling me till + you get yourself ready. But hurry, your meeting hour will be on in no + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Right-o, dad! Shame to make a slavey of you in this way. I'll + be out in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + He threw off his coat and vest, shirt and collar, took a pail of water to + a big block in the little shed at the back, soused his head and shoulders + in it with loud snorting and puffing, and emerged in a few minutes looking + refreshed, clean and wholesome, his handsome face shining with vigorous + health. + </p> + <p> + Together they stood at the table while the son said a few words of + reverent grace. + </p> + <p> + “I'm ravenous, dad. What! Fried potatoes! Oh, you are a brick.” + </p> + <p> + “Tired, boy?” + </p> + <p> + “No. That reminds me of my thrilling tale, which I shall begin after + my third slice of toast, and not before. You can occupy the precious + minutes, dad, in telling me of your excitements in the office this + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't sniff at me. I had a few, though apparently you think + it impossible in my humdrum grey life.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said Barry, his mouth full of toast. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Young Neil Fraser is buying, or has just bought, the S.Q.R. ranch. + Filed the transfer to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Neil Fraser? He's in my tale, too. Bought the S.Q.R.? Where + did he get the stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “Stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “Dough, the dirt, the wherewithal, in short the currency, dad.” + </p> + <p> + “Barry, you are ruining your English,” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Yum-yum. Bully! Did you notice that, dad? I'm coming on, eh? + One thing I almost pray about, that I might become expert in slinging the + modern jaw hash. I'm appallingly correct in my forms of speech. But + go on, dad. I'm throwing too much vocalisation myself. You were + telling me about Neil Fraser. Give us the chorus now.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it, boy,” said his father, shaking his + head, “and especially in a clergyman.” + </p> + <p> + “But that's where you are off, dad. The trouble is, when I + come within range of any of my flock all my flip vocabulary absolutely + vanishes, and I find myself talking like a professor of English or a + maiden lady school ma'am of very certain age.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it, boy. Correct English is the only English for + a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” said the lad. “But I don't want to + worry you, dad.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as for me, that matters nothing at all, but I am thinking of + you and of your profession, your standing.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, dad. I sometimes wish you would think a little more + about yourself. But what of Neil Fraser?” + </p> + <p> + “He has come into some money. He has bought the ranch.” + </p> + <p> + Barry's tone expressed doubtful approval. “Neil is a good + sort, dad, awfully reckless, but I like him,” said Barry. “He + is up and up with it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, what about your afternoon?” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Well, to begin with, I had a dose of my old friend, the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Barry, you don't tell me! Your asthma!” His father sat + back from the table gazing at him in dismay. “And I thought that was + all done with.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I, dad. But it really didn't amount to much. Probably + some stomach derangement, more likely some of that pollen which is + floating around now. I passed through a beaver meadow where they were + cutting hay, and away I went in a gale of sneezing, forty miles an hour. + But I'm all right now, dad. I'm telling you the truth. You + know I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I know,” said his father, concern and relief + mingling in his voice, “but you don't know how to take care of + yourself, Barry. But go on with your tale.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I was panting along like a 'heavey horse,' as + Harry Hobbs would say,—not really too bad, dad,—along comes + that big rancher, Stewart Duff, driving his team of pinto bronchos, and + with him a chap named Bayne, from Red Pine Creek. He turned out to be an + awfully decent sort. And Duff's dog, Slipper, ranging on ahead, a + beautiful setter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have seen him.” + </p> + <p> + They discussed for a few moments the beauties and points of Duff's + Slipper, for both were keen sportsmen, and both were devoted to dogs. Then + Barry went back to his tale and gave an account of what had happened + during the ride home. + </p> + <p> + “You see Slipper ranging about got 'on point' and + beautiful work it was, too. Out jumped Duff with his gun, ready to shoot, + though, of course, he knew it was out of season and that he was breaking + the law. Well, just as Slipper flushed the birds, I shouted to Duff that + he was shooting out of season. He missed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was properly wrathful at my spoiling his shot,” cried + the young man. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that I blame him, Barry,” said his father + thoughtfully. “It is an annoying thing to be shouted at with your + gun on a bird, you know, extremely annoying.” + </p> + <p> + “But he was breaking the law, dad!” cried Barry indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know. But after all—” + </p> + <p> + “But, dad, you can't sit there and tell me that you don't + condemn him for shooting out of season. You know nothing makes you more + furious than hearing about chaps who pot chicken out of season.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know, my boy.” The father was apparently quite + distressed. “You are quite right, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Now, dad, I won't have it! You are not to tell me that I had + no business to stop him if I could. Besides, the law is the law, and sport + is sport.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree, Barry. Believe me, I quite agree. Yet all the same, + a chap does hate to have his shot spoiled, and to shout at a fellow with + his gun on a bird,—well, you'll excuse me, Barry, but it is + hardly the sporting thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Sporting! Sporting!” said Barry. “I know that I hated + to do it, but it was right. Besides talk about 'sporting'—what + about shooting out of season?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Well, we won't discuss it. Go on, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't like it, dad. I don't like to think that + you don't approve of what I do. It was a beastly hard thing to do, + anyway. I had to make myself do it. It was my duty.” The young man + sat looking anxiously at his father. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy,” said his father, “I may be wrong, but do + you think you are always called upon to remonstrate with every law + breaker? No, listen to me,” he continued hurriedly. “What I + mean is, must you or any of us assume responsibility for every criminal in + the land?” + </p> + <p> + Barry sat silent a moment, considering this proposition. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew, dad. You know, I have often said that to excuse + myself after I have funked a thing, and let something go by without + speaking up against it.” + </p> + <p> + “Funked it!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Funked standing up for the right thing, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Funked it!” said his father again. “You wouldn't + do that, Barry?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wouldn't I, though? I am afraid you don't know me + very well, dad. However, I rather think I had started him up before that, + you know. You won't like this either. But I may as well go through + with it. You know, he was swearing and cursing most awfully, just in his + ordinary talk you know, and that is a thing I can't stand, so I up + and told him he was using too many 'damns.'” + </p> + <p> + “You did, eh?” In spite of himself the father could not keep + the surprise out of his voice. “Well, that took some nerve, at any + rate.” + </p> + <p> + “There you are again, dad! You think I had no right to speak. But + somehow I can't help feeling I was right. For don't you see, + it would have seemed a bit like lowering the flag to have kept silent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then for God's sake speak out, lad! I do not feel quite the + same way as you, but it is what you think yourself that must guide you. + But go on, go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I assure you he was in a proper rage, and if it hadn't + been for Bayne I believe he would have trimmed me to a peak, administered + a fitting castigation, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “He would, eh?” said the father with a grim smile. “I + should like to see him try.” + </p> + <p> + “So should I, dad, if you were around. I think I see you—feint + with the right, then left, right, left! bing! bang! bung! All over but the + shiver, eh, dad? It would be sweet! But,” he added regretfully, + “that's the very thing a fellow cannot do.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot do? And why not, pray? It is what every fellow is in duty + bound to do to a bully of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but to be quite fair, dad, you could hardly call Duff a bully. + At least, he wasn't bullying me. As a matter of fact, I was bullying + him. Oh, I think he had reason to be angry. When a chap undertakes to pull + another chap up for law breaking, perhaps he should be prepared to take + the consequences. But to go on. Bayne stepped in—awfully decent of + him, too,—when just at that moment, as novelists say, with startling + suddenness occurred an event that averted the impending calamity. Along + came Neil Fraser, no less, in that new car of his, in a whirlwind of noise + and dust, honking like a flock of wild geese. Well, you should have seen + those bronchos. One lurch, and we were on the ground, a beautiful upset, + and the bronchos in an incipient runaway, fortunately checked by your + humble servant. Duff, in a new and real rage this time, up with his gun + and banged off both barrels after the motor car, by this time honking down + the trail.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! he deserved it,” said the father. “Those motor + fellows make me long to do murder at times.” + </p> + <p> + “That's because you have no car, Dad, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he hit him, do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “No. My arm happened to fly up, the gun banged toward the zenith. + Nothing doing!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Barry, you do seem to have run foul of Mr. Duff.” + </p> + <p> + “Three times, dad. But each time prevented him from breaking the law + and doing himself and others injury. Would you have let him off this last + time, dad?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, boy. Human life has the first claim upon our care. You did + quite right, quite right. Ungovernable fool he must be! Shouldn't be + allowed to carry a gun.” + </p> + <p> + “So Bayne declared,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have had quite an exciting afternoon. But finish your tea + and get ready for the meeting. I will wash up.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if I know it, dad. You take your saw-horse and do me a little + Handel or Schubert. Do, please,” entreated his son. “I want + that before meeting more than anything else. I want a change of mood. I + confess I am slightly rattled. My address is all prepared, but I must have + atmosphere before I go into the meeting.” + </p> + <p> + His father took the 'cello, and after a few moments spent in + carefully tuning up, began with Handel's immortal Largo, then he + wandered into the Adagio Movement in Haydn's third Sonata, from + thence to Schubert's Impromptu in C Minor, after which he began the + Serenade, when he was checked by his son. + </p> + <p> + “No, not that, dad, that's sickening. I consider that the most + morally relaxing bit of music that I know. It frays the whole moral fibre. + Give us one of Chopin's Ballades, or better still a bit of that + posthumous Fantasie Impromptu, the largo movement. Ah! fine! fine!” + </p> + <p> + He flung his dish-cloth aside, ran to the piano and began an accompaniment + to his father's playing. + </p> + <p> + “Now, dad, the Largo once more before we close.” They did the + Largo once and again, then springing from the piano Barry cried: “That + Largo is a means of grace to me. There could be no better preparation for + a religious meeting than that. If you would only come in and play for + them, it would do them much more good than all my preaching.” + </p> + <p> + “If you would only take your music seriously, Barry,” replied + his father, somewhat sadly, “you would become a good player, perhaps + even a great player.” + </p> + <p> + “And then what, dad?” + </p> + <p> + His father waved him aside, putting up his 'cello. + </p> + <p> + “No use going into that again, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I couldn't have been a great player, at any rate, dad.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, boy, perhaps not,” said his father. “Great + players are very rare. But it is time for your meeting.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is, dad. Awfully sorry I didn't finish up those dishes. + Let them go till I return. I wish you would, dad, and come along with me.” + His voice had a wistful note in it. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night, boy, I think. We will have some talk after. You will + only be an hour, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, dad,” said Barry. “Some time you may come.” + He could not hide the wistful regret of his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall, boy,” replied his father. + </p> + <p> + It was the one point upon which there was a lack of perfect harmony + between father and son. When the boy went to college it was with the + intention of entering the profession of law, for which his father had been + reading in his young manhood when the lure of Canada and her broad, free + acres caught him, and he had abandoned the law and with his wife and baby + boy had emigrated to become a land owner in the great Canadian west. + </p> + <p> + Alas! death, that rude spoiler of so many plans, broke in upon the + sanctity and perfect peace of that happy ranch home and ravished it of its + treasure, leaving a broken hearted man and a little boy, orphaned and + sickly, to be cared for. The ranch was sold, the rancher moved to the city + of Edmonton, thence in a few years to a little village some twenty-five + miles nearer to the Foothills, where he became the Registrar and Homestead + Inspector for the district. + </p> + <p> + Here he had lived ever since, training the torn tendrils of his heart + about the lad, till peace came back again, though never the perfect joy of + the earlier days. Every May Day the two were wont to go upon an expedition + many miles into the Foothills, to a little, sunny spot, where a strong, + palisaded enclosure held a little grave. So little it looked, and so + lonely amid the great hills. There, not in an abandonment of grief, but in + loving and grateful remembrance of her whose dust the little grave now + held, of what she had been to them, and had done for them, they spent the + day, returning to take up again with hearts solemn, tender and chastened, + the daily routine of life. + </p> + <p> + That his son should grow to take up the profession of law had been the + father's dream, but during his university course the boy had come + under the compelling influence of a spiritual awakening that swept him + into a world filled with new impressions and other desires. Obeying what + he felt to be an imperative call, the boy chose the church as his + profession, and after completing his theological course in the city of + Winnipeg, and spending a year in study in Germany, while still a mere + youth he had been appointed as missionary to the district of which his own + village was the centre. + </p> + <p> + But though widely separate from each other in the matter of religion, + there were many points of contact between them. They were both men of the + great out-of-doors, and under his father's inspiration and direction + the boy had come to love athletic exercises of all kinds. They were both + music-mad, the father having had in early youth a thorough musical + education, the boy possessing musical talent of a high order. Such + training as was his he had received from his father, but it was confined + to one single instrument, the violin. To this instrument, upon which his + father had received the tuition of a really excellent master, the son + devoted long hours of study and practice during his boyhood years, and his + attainments were such as to give promise of something more than an amateur's + mastery of his instrument. His college work, however, interfered with his + music, and to his father's great disappointment and regret he was + forced to lay aside his study of the violin. On the piano, however, the + boy developed an extraordinary power of improvisation and of sight + reading, and while his technique was faulty his insight, his power of + interpretation were far in excess of many artists who were his superiors + in musical knowledge and power of execution. Many were the hours the + father and son spent together through the long evenings of the western + winter, and among the many bonds that held them in close comradeship, none + was stronger than their common devotion to music. + </p> + <p> + Long after his son had departed to his meeting the father sat dreaming + over his 'cello, wandering among the familiar bits from the old + masters as fancy led him, nor was he aware of the lapse of time till his + son returned. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! Nine-thirty?” he exclaimed, looking at his watch. + “You have given them an extra dose to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Business meeting afterwards, which didn't come off after all,” + said his son. “Postponed till next Sunday.” With this curt + announcement, and without further comment he sat down at his desk. + </p> + <p> + But after a few moments he rose quickly, saying, “Let us do some + real work, dad.” + </p> + <p> + He took up his violin. His father, who was used to his moods, without + question or remark proceeded to tune up. An hour's hard practice + followed, without word from either except as regarded the work in hand. + </p> + <p> + “I feel better now, dad,” said the young man when they had + finished. “And now for a round with you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what about your wind, boy? I don't like that asthma of + yours this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite all right. It's quite gone. I feel sure it was the + pollen from the beaver meadow.” + </p> + <p> + They cleared back the table and chairs from the centre of the room, + stripped to their shirts, put on the gloves and went at each other with + vim. Their style was similar, for the father had taught the son all he + knew, except that the father's was the fighting and the son's + the sparring style. To-night the roles appeared to be reversed, the son + pressing hard at the in-fighting, the father trusting to his foot work and + countering with the light touch of a man making points. + </p> + <p> + “You ARE boring in, aren't you?” said the father, + stopping a fierce rally. + </p> + <p> + “You are not playing up, dad,” said his son. “I don't + feel like soft work to-night. Come to me!” + </p> + <p> + “As you say,” replied the father, and for the next five + minutes Barry had no reason to complain of soft work, for his father went + after him with all the fight that was in him, so that in spite of a + vigorous defence the son was forced to take refuge in a runaway game. + </p> + <p> + “Now you're going!” shouted the son, making a fierce + counter with his right to a hard driven left, which he side-stepped. It + was a fatal exposure. Like the dart of a snake the right hand hook got him + below the jaw, and he was hurled breathless on the couch at the side of + the room. + </p> + <p> + “Got you now!” said his father. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite yet,” cried Barry. Like a cat he was on his feet, + breathing deep breaths, dodging about, fighting for time. + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” cried his father, putting down his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Play up!” shouted Barry, who was rapidly recovering his wind. + “No soft work. Watch out!” + </p> + <p> + Again the father was on guard, while Barry, who seemed to have drawn upon + some secret source of strength, came at him with a whirlwind attack, + feinting, jabbing, swinging, hooking, till finally he landed a short half + arm on the jaw, which staggered his father against the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Pax!” cried the young man. “I have all I want.” + </p> + <p> + “Great!” said his father. “I believe you could fight, + boy, if you were forced to.” + </p> + <p> + In the shed they sluiced each other with pails of water, had a rub down + and got into their dressing gowns. + </p> + <p> + “I feel fine, now, dad, and ready for anything,” said Barry, + glowing with his exercise and his tub. “I was feeling like a + quitter. I guess that asthma got at my nerve. But I believe I will see it + through some way.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said his father, and waited. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They were talking blue ruin in there to-night. Finances are + behind, congregation is running down, therefore the preacher is a failure.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, lad, remember this,” said his father, “never let + your liver decide any course of action for you. Some good stiff work, a + turn with the gloves, for instance, is the best preparation I know for any + important decision. A man cannot decide wisely when he feels grubby. Your + asthma this afternoon is a symptom of liver.” + </p> + <p> + “It is humiliating to a creature endowed with conscience and + intellect to discover how small a part these play at times in his + decisions. The ancients were not far wrong who made the liver the seat of + the emotions.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said his father, “it is a good thing to remember + that most of our bad hours come from our livers. So the preacher is a + failure? Who said so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a number of them, principally Hayes.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, and go to sleep,” said his father. “If Hayes + were pleased with my preaching I should greatly suspect my call to the + ministry.” + </p> + <p> + “But seriously, I am certainly not a great preacher, and perhaps not + a preacher at all. They say I have no 'pep,' which with some + of them appears to be the distinctive and altogether necessary + characteristic of a popular preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “What said Innes?” enquired his father. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever hear Innes say much? From his silence one would judge + that he must possess the accumulated wisdom of the ages.” + </p> + <p> + “When he does talk, however, he generally says something. What was + his contribution?” + </p> + <p> + “'Ah, weel,' said the silent one, 'Ah doot he's + no a Spurgeon, not yet a Billy Sunday, but ye'll hardly be expectin' + thae fowk at Wapiti for nine hundred dollars a year.' Then, bless + his old heart, he added, 'But the bairns tak to him like ducks to + water, so you'd better bide a bit.' So they decided to 'bide + a bit' till next Sunday. Dad, at first I wanted to throw their job + in their faces, only I always know that it is the old Adam in me that + feels like that, so I decided to 'bide a bit' too.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a poor job, after all, my boy,” said his father. + “It's no gentleman's job the way it is carried on in + this country. To think of your being at the bidding of a creature like + Hayes!” + </p> + <p> + He could have said no better word. The boy's face cleared like the + sudden shining of the sun after rain. He lifted his head and said, + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, not at his bidding, dad. 'One is your Master,'” + he quoted. “But after all, Hayes has something good in him. Do you + know, I rather like him. He's—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now, we'll drop it right there,” said his + father, in a disgusted tone. “When you come to finding something to + like in that rat, I surrender.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” said the boy, as if to himself. “Poor + Hayes. He may be quite a wonderful man, considering all things, his + heredity and his environment. What would I have been, dad, but for you?” + </p> + <p> + His father grunted, pulled hard at his pipe, coughed a bit, then looked + his son straight in the face, saying, “God knows what any of us owe + to our past.” He fell into silence. His mind was far away, following + his heart to the palisaded plot of ground among the Foothills and the + little grave there in which he had covered from his sight her that had + been the inspiration to his best and finest things, and his defence + against the things low and base that had once hounded his soul, howling + hard upon his trail. + </p> + <p> + The son, knowing his mood, sat in silence with him, then rising suddenly + he sat himself on the arm of his father's chair, threw his arm + around his shoulder and said, “Dear old dad! Good old boy you are, + too. Good stuff! What would I have been but for you? A puny, puling, + wretched little crock, afraid of anything that could spit at me. Do you + remember the old gander? I was near my eternal damnation that day.” + </p> + <p> + “But you won out, my boy,” said his father in a croaking + voice, putting his arm round his son. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, because you made me stick it, just as you have often made me + stick it since. May God forget me if I ever forget what you have done for + me. Shall we read now?” + </p> + <p> + He took the big Bible from its place upon the table, and turning the + leaves read aloud from the teachings of the world's greatest Master. + It was the parable of the talents. + </p> + <p> + “Rather hard on the failure,” he said as he closed the book. + </p> + <p> + “No, not the failure,” said his father, “the slacker, + the quitter. It is nature's law. There is no place in God's + universe for a quitter.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, dad,” said Barry. “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed his father, as he had ever done since his earliest infancy. + Their prayers were said in private, the son, clergyman though he was, + could never bring himself to offer to lead the devotions of him at whose + knee he had kneeled every night of his life, as a boy, for his evening + prayer. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, boy,” said his father, holding him by the hand + for a moment or so. “We do not know what is before us, defeat, loss, + suffering. That part is not in our hands altogether, but the shame of the + quitter never need, and never shall be ours.” + </p> + <p> + The little man stepped into his bedroom with his shoulders squared and his + head erect. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! He's no quitter,” said his son to himself, as + his eyes followed him. “When he quits he'll be dead. God keep + me from shaming him!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + REJECTED + </h3> + <p> + The hour for the church service had not quite arrived, but already a + number of wagons, buckboards and buggies had driven up and deposited their + loads at the church door. The women had passed into the church, where the + Sunday School was already in session; the men waited outside, driven by + the heat of the July sun and the hotter July wind into the shade of the + church building. + </p> + <p> + Through the church windows came the droning of voices, with now and then a + staccato rapping out of commands heard above the droning. + </p> + <p> + “That's Hayes,” said a sturdy young chap, brown as an + Indian, lolling upon the grass. “He likes to be bossing something.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so, Ewen,” replied a smaller man, with a + fish-like face, his mouth and nose running into a single feature. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he's doin' his best, Nathan Pilley,” + answered another man, stout and stocky, with bushy side whiskers flanking + around a rubicund face, out of which stared two prominent blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I reckon he is, Mr. Boggs. I have no word agin Hayes,” + replied Nathan Pilley, a North Ontario man, who, abandoning a rocky farm + in Muskoka, had strayed to this far west country in search of better + fortune. “I have no word agin Mr. Hayes, Mr. Boggs,” he + reiterated. “In fact, I think he ought to be highly commended for + his beneficent work.” + </p> + <p> + “But he does like to hear himself giving out orders, all the same,” + persisted the young man addressed as Ewen. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he seems to sorter enjoy that, too, Ewen,” agreed + Nathan, who was never known to oppose any man's opinion. + </p> + <p> + “He's doin' his best,” insisted Mr. Boggs, rather + sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is that, Mr. Boggs, he is that,” said Nathan. + </p> + <p> + “But he likes to be the big toad in the puddle,” said Ewen. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he certainly seems to, he does indeed, Ewen.” + </p> + <p> + Clear over the droning there arose at this point another sound, a chorus + of childish laughter. + </p> + <p> + “That's the preacher's class,” said Boggs. “Quare + sort o' Sunday School where the kids carry on like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Seems rather peculiar,” agreed Nathan, “peculiar in + Sunday School, it does.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with young Pickles?” enquired Ewen. + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the company, following the pointing finger, fell upon young + Pickles standing at the window of the little vestry to the church, and + looking in. He was apparently convulsed with laughter, with his hand hard + upon his mouth and nose as a kind of silencer. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what's the matter with him, Pat?” continued + Ewen. + </p> + <p> + Pat McCann, the faithful friend and shadow of young Pickles, after + studying the attitude and motions of his friend, gave answer: + </p> + <p> + “It's the preacher, I guess. He's kiddin' the kids + inside. He's some kidder, too,” he said, moving to take his + place beside his friend. + </p> + <p> + “What's he doing anyway?” said Ewen. “I'm + going to see.” + </p> + <p> + Gradually a little company gathered behind young Pickles and Pat McCann. + The window commanded a view of the room, yet in such a way that the group + were unobserved by the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you ought to seen him do the camel a minute ago,” + whispered Pickles. + </p> + <p> + In the little vestry room were packed some twenty children of all ages and + sizes, with a number of grownups who had joined the class in charge of + some of its younger members. There was, for instance, Mrs. Innes, with the + two youngest of her numerous progeny pillowed against her yielding and + billowy person; and Mrs. Stewart Duff, an infant of only a few weeks upon + her knee accounting sufficiently for the paleness of her sweet face, and + two or three other women with their small children filling the bench that + ran along the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Say! look at Harry Hobbs,” said Pat McCann to his friend. + </p> + <p> + Upon the stove, which in summer was relegated to the corner of the room, + sat Harry Hobbs, a man of any age from his appearance, thin and wiry, with + keen, darting eyes, which now, however, were fastened upon the preacher. + All other eyes were, too. Even the smallest of the children seated on the + front bench were gazing with mouths wide open, as if fascinated, upon the + preacher who, moving up and down with quick, lithe steps, was telling them + a story. A wonderful story, too, it seemed, the wonder of it apparent in + the riveted eyes and fixed faces. It was the immortal story, matchless in + the language, of Joseph, the Hebrew shepherd boy, who, sold into slavery + by his brethren, became prime minister of the mighty empire of Egypt. The + voice tone of the minister, now clear and high, now low and soft, + vibrating like the deeper notes of the 'cello, was made for story + telling. Changing with every changing emotion, it formed an exquisite + medium to the hearts of the listeners for the exquisite music of the tale. + </p> + <p> + The story was approaching its climactic denouement; the rapturous moment + of the younger brother's revealing was at hand; Judah, the older + brother, was now holding the centre of the stage and making that thrilling + appeal, than which nothing more moving is to be found in our English + speech. The preacher's voice was throbbing with all the pathos of + the tale. Motionless, the little group hung hard upon the story-teller, + when the door opened quickly, a red head appeared, a rasping voice broke + in: + </p> + <p> + “Your class report, Mr. Dunbar, please. We're waiting for it.” + </p> + <p> + A sigh of disappointment and regret swept the room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, darn the little woodpecker!” said Ewen from the outside, + in a disgusted tone. “That's the way with Hayes. He thinks he's + the whole works, and that he never can get in wrong.” + </p> + <p> + The spell was broken, never to be renewed. The story hurried to its close, + but the great climax failed of its proper effect. + </p> + <p> + “He's a hummer, ain't he?” exclaimed young Pickles + to his friend, Pat McCann. + </p> + <p> + “Some hummer, and then some!” replied Pat. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' in,” said Pickles. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, what for? He ain't no good preachin' to them folks. + By gum! I think he's scared of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + But Pickles persisted, and followed with the men and boys who lounged + lazily into the church, from which the Sunday School had now been + dismissed. + </p> + <p> + It appeared that the judgment of Pat McCann upon the merits of the + preacher would be echoed by the majority of the congregation present. + While the service was conducted in proper form and in reverent spirit, the + sermon was marked by that most unpardonable sin of which sermons can be + guilty; it was dull. Solid enough in matter, thoughtful beyond the + average, it was delivered in a style appallingly wooden, with an utter + absence of that arresting, dramatic power that the preacher had shown in + his children's class. + </p> + <p> + The appearance of the congregation was, as ever, a reflection of the + sermon. The heat of the day, the reaction from the long week in the open + air, the quiet monotony of the well modulated voice rising and falling in + regular cadence in what is supposed by so many preachers to be the tone + suitable for any sacred office, produced an overwhelmingly somnolent + effect. Many of them slept, some frankly and openly, others under cover of + shading hands, bowed heads, or other subterfuges. Others again spent the + whole of the period of the sermon, except for some delicious moments of + surreptitious sleep, in a painful but altogether commendable struggle + against the insidious influence of the god of slumber. + </p> + <p> + Among the latter was Mrs. Innes, whose loyalty to her minister, which was + as much a part of her as her breathing, contended in a vigorous fight + against her much too solid flesh. It was a certain aid to wakefulness that + her two children, deep in audible slumber, kept her in a state of active + concern lest their inert and rotund little masses of slippery flesh should + elude her grasp, and wreck the proprieties of the hour by flopping on the + floor. There was also a further sleep deterrent in the fact that + immediately before her sat Mr. McFettridge, whose usually erect form, + yielding to the soporific influences of the environment, showed a tendency + gradually to sag into an attitude, relaxed and formless, which suggested + sleep. This, to the lady behind him, partook of the nature of an affront + to her minister. Consequently she considered it her duty to arouse the + snoozing McFettridge with a vigorous poke in the small of the back. + </p> + <p> + The effect was instantaneously apparent. As if her insistent finger had + touched a button and released an electric current, Mr. McFettridge's + sagging form shot convulsively into rigidity, and impinging violently upon + the peacefully slumbering Mr. Boggs on the extreme end of the bench, + toppled him over into the aisle. + </p> + <p> + The astonished Boggs, finding himself thus deposited upon the floor, and + beholding the irate face of Mr. McFettridge glooming down upon him, and + fancying him to be the cause of his present humiliating position, sprang + to his feet, swung a violent blow upon Mr. Fettridge's ear, + exclaiming sotto voce: + </p> + <p> + “Take that, will you! And mind your own business! You were sleeping + yourself, anyway!” + </p> + <p> + Before the astonished and enraged Mr. McFettridge could gather his wits + sufficiently for action, there rang over the astonished congregation a + peal of boyish laughter. It was from the minister. A few irrepressible + youngsters joined in the laugh; the rest of the congregation, however, + were held rigid in the grip of a shocked amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say! do forgive me, Mr. McFettridge!” cried the young + man at the desk. “It was quite involuntary, I assure you.” + Then, quickly recovering himself, he added, “And now we shall + conclude the service by singing the seventy-ninth hymn.” + </p> + <p> + Before the last verse was sung he reminded the audience of the + congregational meeting immediately following, and without further comment + the service was brought to a close. + </p> + <p> + A number of the congregation, among them Barry's father, departed. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Neil,” said Mrs. Innes to Neil Fraser. “You'll + be wanted I doot.” And Neil, protesting that he knew nothing about + church business, sat down. + </p> + <p> + At the back of the church were gathered Harry Hobbs, young Pickles, and + others of the less important attendants of the church, who had been + induced to remain by the rumour of a “scrap.” + </p> + <p> + By a fatal mischance, the pliant Nathan Pilley was elected chairman. This + gentleman was obsessed by the notion that he possessed in a high degree + the two qualities which he considered essential to the harmonious and + expeditious conduct of a public meeting, namely, an invincible + determination to agree with every speaker, and an equally invincible + determination to get motions passed. + </p> + <p> + In a rambling and aimless speech, Mr. Pilley set forth in a somewhat + general way the steps leading up to this meeting, and then called upon Mr. + Innes, the chairman of the Board of Management, to state more specifically + the object for which it was called. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Innes, who was incurably averse to voluble speech, whether public or + private, arose and said, in rolling Doric: + </p> + <p> + “Weel, Mr. Chair-r-man, there's no much to be done. We're + behind a few hundred dollars, but if some one will go about wi' a + bit paper, nae doot the ar-rear-rs wad soon be made up, and everything wad + be ar-richt.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Mr. Pilley pleasantly. “Now will some + one offer a motion?” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Mr. Hayes was instantly upon his feet, and in a voice thin and + rasping exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman, there's business to be done, and we are here to + do it, and we're not going to be rushed through in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly, Mr. Hayes, exactly,” said Mr. Pilley. “We must + give these matters the fullest consideration.” + </p> + <p> + Then followed a silence. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps Mr. Hayes—” continued the chairman, looking + appealingly at that gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Chairman,” said Mr. Hayes, with an appeased but + slightly injured air, “it is not my place to set forth the cause of + this meeting being called. If the chairman of the board would do his duty”—here + he glared at the unconscious Mr. Innes—“he would set before it + the things that have made this meeting necessary, and that call for + drastic action.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear! Hear!” cried Mr. Boggs. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” acquiesced the chairman. “Please continue, + Mr. Hayes.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hayes continued: “The situation briefly is this: We are almost + hopelessly in debt, and—” + </p> + <p> + “How much?” enquired Neil Fraser, briskly interrupting. + </p> + <p> + “Seven hundred dollars,” replied Mr. Hayes, “and further—” + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Innes. + </p> + <p> + “I have examined the treasurer's books,” said Mr. Hayes + in the calmly triumphant tone of one sure of his position, “and I + find the amount to be seven hundred dollars, and therefore—” + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars,” repeated Mr. Innes, gazing into space. + </p> + <p> + “Seven hundred dollars, I say,” snapped Mr. Hayes. + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars,” reiterated Mr. Innes, without further + comment. + </p> + <p> + “I say I have examined the books. The arrears are seven hundred + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Innes calmly. + </p> + <p> + The youngsters at the back snickered. + </p> + <p> + “Go to it!” said Harry Hobbs, under his breath. + </p> + <p> + Even the minister, who was sitting immediately behind Harry, could not + restrain a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman,” cried Mr. Hayes, indignantly, “I appeal + against this interruption. I assert—” + </p> + <p> + “Where's the treasurer?” said Neil Fraser. “What's + the use of this chewin' the rag?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Exactly so,” said the chairman, greatly relieved. “Mr. + Boggs—Perhaps Mr. Boggs will enlighten us.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Boggs arose with ponderous deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chairman,” he said, “in one sense Mr. Hayes is + right when he states the arrears to be seven hundred dollars—” + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars A'm tellin' ye,” said Mr. + Innes with the first sign of feeling he had shown. + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Innes is also right,” continued Mr. Boggs, ignoring + the interruption, “when he makes the arrears five hundred dollars, + the two hundred dollars difference being the quarterly revenue now due.” + </p> + <p> + “Next week,” said Mr. Innes, reverting to his wonted calm. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” said the chairman, rubbing his hands amiably; + “so that the seven hundred dollars we now owe—” + </p> + <p> + This was too much even for the imperturbable Mr. Innes. + </p> + <p> + He arose in his place, moved out into the aisle, advanced toward the + platform, and with arm outstretched, exclaimed in wrathful tones: + </p> + <p> + “Mon, did ye no hear me tellin' ye? I want nae mon to mak' + me a le-ear.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Mr. Stewart Duff, who had come to convey his wife home, and + had got tired waiting for her outside, entered the church. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, get on with the business,” said Neil Fraser, who, + although enjoying the scene, was becoming anxious for his dinner. “The + question what's to be done with the five hundred dollars' + arrears. I say, let's make it up right here. I am willing to give—” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Chairman,” shouted Mr. Hayes, who was notoriously + averse to parting with his money, and was especially fearful of a public + subscription. + </p> + <p> + “There is something more than mere arrears—much more—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, there is,” emphatically declared Mr. McFettridge, rising + straight and stiff. “I'm for plain speakin'. The + finances is not the worst about this congregation. The congregation has + fallen off. Other churches in this village has good congregations. Why + shouldn't we? The truth is, Mr. Chairman,”—Mr. + McFettridge's voice rolled deep and sonorous over the audience—“we + want a popular preacher—a preacher that draws—a preacher with + some pep.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear! hear!” cried Mr. Boggs. “Pep's what we + want. That's it—pep.” + </p> + <p> + “Pep,” echoed the chairman. “Exactly so, pep.” + </p> + <p> + “More than that,” continued Mr. McFettridge, “we want a + minister that's a good mixer—one that stands in with the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear! Hear!” cried Mr. Boggs again. + </p> + <p> + “A mixer! Exactly!” agreed the chairman. “A mixer!” + nodding pleasantly at Mr. Boggs. + </p> + <p> + “And another thing I will say,” continued Mr. McFettridge, + “now that I am on my feet. We want a preacher that will stick to his + job—that will preach the gospel and not go meddlin' with other + matters—with politics and such like.” + </p> + <p> + “Or prohibition,” shouted Harry Hobbs from the rear, to the + undiluted joy of the youngsters in his vicinity. + </p> + <p> + The minister shook his head at him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, prohibition,” answered Mr. McFettridge, facing toward + the rear of the church defiantly. “Let him stick to his preaching + the gospel; I believe the time has come for a change and I'm + prepared to make a motion that we ask our minister to resign, and that + motion I now make.” + </p> + <p> + “Second the motion,” cried Mr. Boggs promptly. + </p> + <p> + “You have heard the motion,” said the chairman, with + business-like promptitude. “Are you ready for the question?” + </p> + <p> + “Question,” said Mr. Hayes, after a few moments' + silence, broken by the shuffling of some members in their seats, and by + the audible whispering of Mrs. Innes, evidently exhorting her husband to + action. + </p> + <p> + “Then all those in favour of the motion will please—” + </p> + <p> + Then from behind the organ a little voice piped up, “Does this mean, + Mr. Chairman, that we lose our minister?” + </p> + <p> + It was Miss Quigg, a lady whose years no gallantry could set below forty, + for her appearance indicated that she was long past the bloom of her + youth. She was thin, almost to the point of frailness, with sharp, + delicately cut features; but the little chin was firm, and a flash of the + brown eyes revealed a fiery soul within. Miss Quigg was the milliner and + dressmaker of the village, and was herself a walking model of her own + exquisite taste in clothes and hats. It was only her failing health that + had driven her to abandon a much larger sphere than her present position + offered, but even here her fame was such as to draw to her little shop + customers from the villages round about for many miles. + </p> + <p> + “Does this mean, sir, that Mr. Dunbar will leave us?” she + repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Well,—yes, madam—that is, Miss, I suppose, in a way—practically + it would amount to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me yes or no, please,” Miss Quigg's neat + little figure was all a-quiver to the tips of her hat plumes. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the chairman, squirming under the unpleasant + experience of being forced to a definite answer, “I suppose,—yes.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Quigg turned from the squirming and smiling Mr. Pilley in contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” she said, “I say no. And I believe there are + many here who would say no—and men, too.” The wealth of + indignation and contemptuous scorn infused into the word by which the + difference in sex of the human species was indicated, made those unhappy + individuals glance shamefacedly at each other—“only they are + too timid, the creatures! or too indifferent.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was an exchange of furtive glances and smiles and an uneasy + shifting of position on the part of “the creatures.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you give them time, Mr. Chairman, I believe they will + perhaps get up courage enough to speak.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Quigg sat down in her place behind the organ, disappearing quite from + view except for the tips of her plumes, whose rapid and rhythmic + vibrations were eloquent of the beating of her gallant little heart. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” said the chairman, in confused but hearty + acquiescence. “Perhaps some one will say something.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Innes, forced to a change of position by the physical discomfort + caused by his wife's prodding, rose and said, + </p> + <p> + “I dinna see the need o' any change. Mr. Dunbar is no a great + preacher, but Ah doot he does his best. And the bairns all like him.” + </p> + <p> + Then the congregation had a thrill. In the back seat rose Harry Hobbs. + </p> + <p> + “I'm near forty years old,” he cried, in a high nasal + tone that indicated a state of extreme nervous tension, “and I never + spoke in meetin' before. I ain't had no use for churches and + preachers, and I guess they hadn't no use for me. You folks all know + me. I've been in this burg for near eight years, and I was a drinkin', + swearin', fightin' cuss. This preacher came into the barn one + day when I was freezin' to death after a big spree. He tuk me home + with him and kep' me there for two weeks, settin' up nights + with me, too. Let me be,” he said impatiently to Barry, who was + trying to pull him down to his seat. “I'm agoin' to + speak this time if it kills me. Many a time I done him dirt sence then, + but he stuck to me, and never quit till he got me turned 'round. I + was goin' straight to hell; he says I'm goin' to heaven + now.” Here he laughed with a touch of scorn. “I dunno. But, by + gum! if you fire him and do him dirt, I don't know what'll + become of me, but I guess I'll go straight to hell again.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Harry, no you won't. You'll keep right on, Harry, + straight to heaven.” It was the preacher's voice, full of + cheery confidence. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Innes was audibly sniffling; Mrs. Stewart Duff wiping her eyes. It + was doubtless this sight that brought her husband to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite know what the trouble is here,” he said. + “I understand there are arrears. I heard some criticism of the + minister's preaching. I can't say I care much for it myself, + but I want to say right here that there are other things wanted in a + minister, and this young fellow has got some of them. If he stays, he gets + my money; if he doesn't, no one else does. I'll make you + gentlemen who are kicking about finances a sporting proposition. I'm + willing to double my subscription, if any other ten men will cover my + ante.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll call you,” said Neil Fraser, “and I'll + raise you one.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm willing to meet Mr. Duff and Mr. Fraser,” said Miss + Quigg, rising from behind her organ with a triumphant smile on her face. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't got much money,” said Harry Hobbs, “but I'll + go you just half what I earn if you'll meet me on that proposition.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah may say,” said Mr. Innes, yielding to his wife's + vigorous vocal and physical incitations, “A'm prepair-r-ed to + mak' a substantial increase in my subscreeption—that is, if + necessary,” he added cautiously. + </p> + <p> + Then Barry came forward from the back of the church and stood before the + platform. After looking them over for a few moments in silence, he said, + in a voice clear, quiet, but with a ring in it that made it echo in every + heart: + </p> + <p> + “Had it not been for these last speeches, it would have been + unnecessary to allow the motion to go before you. I could not have + remained where I am not wanted. But now I am puzzled, I confess, I am + really puzzled to know what to do. I am not a great preacher, I know, but + then there are worse. I don't, at least I think I don't, talk + nonsense. And I am not what Mr. McFettridge calls a 'good mixer.' + On the other hand, I think Mr. Innes is right when he says the bairns like + me; at least, it would break”—he paused, his lip quivering, + then he went on quietly—“it would be very hard to think they + didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “They do that, then,” said Mrs. Innes, emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “So you see, it is really very difficult to know what to do. I would + hate to go away, but it might be right to go away. I suggest you let me + have a week to think it over. Can you wait that long?” + </p> + <p> + His handsome, boyish face, alight with a fine glow of earnestness and + sincerity, made irresistible appeal to all but those who for personal + reasons were opposed to him. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he continued, in a tone of voice deliberative and + quite detached, “there are a number of things to think about. Those + arrears, for instance, are hardly my fault—at least, not altogether. + I was looking over the treasurer's books the other day, and I was + surprised to find how many had apparently quite forgotten to pay their + church subscription. It is no doubt just an oversight. For instance,” + he added, in the confidential tone of one imparting interesting and + valuable information, “you will be surprised to learn, Mr. Duff, + that you are twenty-five dollars behind in your payments.” + </p> + <p> + At this Neil Fraser threw back his head with a loud laugh. “Touche!” + he said, in a joyous undertone. + </p> + <p> + The minister looked at him in surprise, and went on, “And while Mr. + Innes and Miss Quigg are both paid up in full, Mr. Hayes has apparently + neglected to pay his last quarter.” + </p> + <p> + “Hit him again,” murmured Harry Hobbs, while Mr. Hayes rose in + virtuous indignation. + </p> + <p> + “I protest, Mr. Chairman!” he cried, “against these + personalities.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you quite mistake me, Mr. Hayes,” said the preacher, + “these are not personalities. I am simply showing how easy it is for + arrears to arise, and that it may not be my fault at all. Of course, it + may be right for me to resign. I don't know about that yet, but I + want to be very sure. It would be easier to resign, but I don't want + to be a quitter.” + </p> + <p> + “I move we adjourn,” said Neil Fraser. + </p> + <p> + “I second the motion,” said Stewart Duff. The motion was + carried, and the meeting adjourned. + </p> + <p> + At the door the minister stood shaking hands with all as they passed out, + making no distinction in the heartiness with which he greeted all his + parishioners. To Miss Quigg, however, he said, “Thank you. You were + splendidly plucky.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” cried the little lady, the colour flaming in her + faded cheeks. “But,” she added hastily, “you did that + beautifully, and he deserved it, the little beast!” + </p> + <p> + “Solar plexus!” said Neil Fraser, who was immediately behind + Miss Quigg. + </p> + <p> + The minister glanced from one to the other in perplexity, as they passed + out of the door. + </p> + <p> + “But, you know, I was only—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, we know,” cried Miss Quigg. “But if those men + would only take hold! Oh, those men!” She turned upon Neil Fraser + and shook her head at him violently. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Miss Quigg. We are a hopeless and helpless lot. But we're + going to reform.” + </p> + <p> + “You need to, badly,” she said. “But you need some one + to reform you. Look at Mr. Duff there, how vastly improved he is,” + and she waved her hand to that gentleman, who was driving away with his + wife in their buckboard. + </p> + <p> + “He is a perfect dear,” sighed Mrs. Duff, as she bowed to the + minister. “And you, too, Stewart,” she added, giving his arm a + little squeeze, “you said just the right thing when those horrid + people were going to turn him out.” + </p> + <p> + “Say! Your preacher isn't so bad after all,” said her + husband. “Wasn't that a neat one for old Hayes?” + </p> + <p> + “He rather got you, though, Stewart.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he did, by Jove! Not the first time, either, he's done + it. But I must look after that. Say, he's the limit for freshness + though. Or is it freshness? I'm not quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he stay with us?” said his wife. “I really do hope + he will.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess he'll stay all right. He won't give up his job,” + said her husband. + </p> + <p> + But next week proved Mr. Duff a poor prophet, for the minister after the + service informed his people that he had come to the conclusion that + another man might get better results as minister of the congregation; he + had therefore handed in his resignation to the Presbytery. + </p> + <p> + It was a shock to them all, but he adhered to his resolution in spite of + tearful lamentations from the women, wide-eyed amazement and dismay from + the bairns of the congregation, and indignation, loudly expressed, from + Neil Fraser and Stewart Duff, and others of their kind. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Miss Quigg, struggling with indignant tears, as + she was passing out of the church, “you won't see Harry Hobbs + in this church again, nor me, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, Miss Quigg, Harry has promised me that he will stick by + the church, and that he will be there every Sunday. And so will you, dear + Miss Quigg. I know you. You will do what is right.” + </p> + <p> + But that little lady, with her head very erect and a red spot burning in + each faded cheek, passed out of the church saying nothing, the plumes on + her jaunty little hat quivering defiance and wrath against “those + men, who had so little spunk as to allow a little beast like Hayes to run + them.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE WAR DRUM CALLS + </h3> + <p> + “Well, dad,” said Barry next evening as they were sitting in + the garden after tea, “I feel something like Mohammed's + coffin, detached from earth but not yet ascended into heaven. It's + unpleasant to be out of a job. I confess I shall always cherish a more + intelligent sympathy henceforth for the great unemployed. But cheer up, + dad! You are taking this thing much too seriously. The world is wide, and + there is something waiting me that I can do better than any one else.” + </p> + <p> + But the father had little to say. He felt bitterly the humiliation to + which his son had been subjected. + </p> + <p> + Barry refused to see the humiliation. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I not resign if I decide it is my duty so to do? And + why, on the other hand, should not they have the right to terminate my + engagement with them when they so desire? That's democratic + government.” + </p> + <p> + “But good Lord, Barry!” burst out his father, with quite an + unusual display of feeling; “to think that a gentleman should hold + his position at the whim of such whippersnappers as Hayes, Boggs et hoc + genus omne. And more than that, that I should have to accept as my + minister a man who would be the choice of cattle like that.” + </p> + <p> + “After all, dad, we are ruled by majorities in this age and in this + country. That is at once the glory and the danger of democratic + government. There is no better way discovered as yet. And besides, I + couldn't go on here, dad, preaching Sunday after Sunday to people + who I felt were all the time saying, 'He's no good'; to + people, in short, who could not profit by my preaching.” + </p> + <p> + “Because it had no pep, eh?” said his father with bitter + scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, dad, I believe that's what is wrong with my + preaching: it hasn't got pep. What pep is, only the initiated know. + But the long and the short of this thing is, it is the people that must be + satisfied. It is they who have to stand your preaching, they who pay the + piper. But cheer up, dad, I have no fear for the future.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor have I, my boy, not the slightest. I hope you did not think for + a moment, my son,” he added with some dignity, “that I was in + doubt about your future.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, dad. We both feel a little sore naturally, but the future + is all right.” + </p> + <p> + “True, my dear boy, true. I was forgetting myself. As you say, the + world is wide and your place is waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello! here comes my friend, Mr. Duff,” said Barry in a low + voice. “He was ready to throw Mr. McFettridge out of the meeting + yesterday, body and bones. Awfully funny, if it hadn't been in + church. Wonder what he wants! Seems in a bit of a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + But hurry or not, it was a full hour before Mr. Duff introduced his + business. As he entered the garden he stood gazing about him in amazed + wonder and delight, and that hour was spent in company with Mr. Dunbar, + exploring the garden, Barry following behind lost in amazement at the new + phase of character displayed by their visitor. + </p> + <p> + “I have not had such a delightful evening, Mr. Dunbar, for years,” + said Duff, when they had finished making the round of the garden. “I + have heard about your garden, but I had no idea that it held such a wealth + and variety of treasures. I had something of a garden myself in the old + country, but here there is no time apparently for anything but cattle and + horses and money. But if you would allow me I should greatly like to have + the pleasure of bringing Mrs. Duff to see your beautiful garden.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Duff was assured that the Dunbars would have the greatest pleasure in + receiving Mrs. Duff. + </p> + <p> + “Do bring her,” said Barry, “and we can have a little + music, too. She is musical, I know. I hear her sing in church.” + </p> + <p> + “Music! Why, she loves it. But she dropped her music when she came + here; there seemed to be no time, no time, no time. I wonder sometimes—Well, + I must get at my business. It is this letter that brings me. It is from an + American whom you know, at least, he knows you, a Mr. Osborne Howland of + Pittsburgh.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dunbar nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He is planning a big trip up the Peace River country prospecting + for oil and mines, and later hunting. He says you and your son engaged to + accompany him, and he asks me to complete arrangements with you. I am + getting Jim Knight to look after the outfit. You know Jim, perhaps. He + runs the Lone Pine ranch. Fine chap he is. Knows all about the hunting + business. Takes a party into the mountains every year. He'll take + Tom Fielding with him. I don't know Fielding, but Knight does. Mr. + Howland says there will be three of their party. Far too many, but that's + his business. I myself am rather anxious to look after some oil deposits, + and this will be a good chance. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Father and son looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “It would be fine, if we could manage it,” said Mr. Dunbar, + “but my work is so pressing just now. A great many are coming in, + and I am alone in the office at present. When does he propose to start?” + </p> + <p> + “In six weeks' time. I hope you can come, Mr. Dunbar. I couldn't + have said so yesterday, but I can now. Any man with a garden like this, + the product of his own planning and working, is worth knowing. So I do + hope you can both come. By the way, Knight wants a camp hand, a kind of + roustabout, who can cook—a handy man, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I have him,” said Barry. “Harry Hobbs.” + </p> + <p> + “Hobbs? Boozes a bit, doesn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Not now. Hasn't for six months. He's a new man. I can + guarantee him.” + </p> + <p> + “You can, eh? Well, my experience is once a boozer always a boozer.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Barry, “Hobbs is different. He is a member of + our church, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't know. But I don't know that that makes + much difference anyway,” said Duff with a laugh. “I don't + mean to be offensive,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “It does to Hobbs, he's a Christian man now. I mean a real + Christian, Mr. Duff.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose there is such a thing. In fact, I've known + one or two, but—well, if you guarantee him I'll take him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will guarantee him,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Let me have your answer to-morrow,” said Duff as he bade them + good-night. + </p> + <p> + The Dunbars discussed the matter far into the night. It was clearly + impossible for Mr. Dunbar to leave his work, and the only question was + whether or not Barry should make one of the party. Barry greatly disliked + the idea of leaving his father during the hot summer months, as he said, + “to slave away at his desk, and to slop away in his bachelor + diggings.” He raised many objections, but one consideration seemed + to settle things for the Dunbars. To them a promise was a promise. + </p> + <p> + “If I remember aright, Barry, we promised that we should join their + party on this expedition.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” added Barry quickly, “if our work permitted it.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said his father. “My work prevents me, your + work does not.” + </p> + <p> + Hence it came that by the end of August Barry found himself in the far + northern wilds of the Peace River country, a hundred miles or so from + Edmonton, attached to a prospecting-hunting party of which Mr. Osborne + Howland was the nominal head, but of which the “boss” was + undoubtedly his handsome, athletic and impetuous daughter Paula. The party + had not been on the trail for more than a week before every member was + moving at her command, and apparently glad to do so. + </p> + <p> + The party were camped by a rushing river at the foot of a falls. Below the + falls the river made a wide eddy, then swept down in a turbulent rapid for + some miles. The landing was a smooth and shelving rock that pitched + somewhat steeply into the river. + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate Harry, who after the day's march had exchanged his + heavy marching boots with their clinging hobnails for shoes more + comfortable but with less clinging qualities, in making preparation for + the evening meal made his way down this shelving rock of water. No sooner + had he filled his pail than his foot slipped from under him, and in an + instant the pail and himself were in the swiftly flowing river. + </p> + <p> + His cry startled the camp. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” shouted Duff, with a great laugh. “Harry is in + the drink! I never knew he was so fond of water as all that. You've + got to swim for it now, old boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Throw him something,” said Knight. + </p> + <p> + Past them ran Barry, throwing off coat and vest. + </p> + <p> + “He can't swim,” he cried, tearing at his boots. “Throw + him a line, some one.” He ran down to the water's edge, + plunged in, and swam toward the unfortunate Harry, who, splashing wildly, + was being carried rapidly into the rough water. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, father, he will be drowned!” cried Paula, rushing toward + a canoe which was drawn up on the shore. Before any one could reach her + she had pushed it out and was steering over the boiling current in Barry's + wake. But after a few strokes of her paddle she found herself driven far + out into the current and away from the struggling men. Paula had had + sufficient experience with a canoe to handle it with considerable ease in + smooth water and under ordinary conditions, but in the swirl of this rough + and swift water the canoe took the management of its course out of her + hands, and she had all she could do to keep afloat. + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, men, get her!” cried Brand. “She + will be drowned before our eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Tom,” cried Jim Knight, swinging another canoe into + the water. A glance he gave at the girl, another at the struggling men, + for by this time Barry could be seen struggling with the drowning Hobbs. + </p> + <p> + “Get in, Tom,” ordered Knight, taking the stern. “We + will get the men first. The girl is all right in the meantime.” + </p> + <p> + “Get the girl!” commanded Brand. “For God's sake + go for the girl,” he entreated in a frenzy of distress. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Knight, “the men first. She's all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Duff to Brand, pushing out the remaining canoe, + “get into the bow, and stop howling. Those men are in danger of + being drowned, but Knight will get them. We'll go for the girl.” + </p> + <p> + It took but a few minutes for Knight and Fielding, who knew their craft + thoroughly and how to get the best out of her in just such an emergency, + to draw up upon Harry and his rescuer. + </p> + <p> + “Say, they are fighting hard,” said Fielding. “That + bloody little fool is choking the life out of Dunbar. My God! they are out + of sight!” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” roared Knight. “Keep your eyes on the spot, and + for Heaven's sake, paddle!” + </p> + <p> + “They are up again! One of them is. It's Barry. The other is + gone. No, by Jove! he's got him! Hold on, Barry, we're coming,” + yelled Tom. “Stick to it, old boy!” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly the canoe sped toward the drowning men. + </p> + <p> + “They are gone this time for sure,” cried Tom, as the canoe + shot over the spot where the men had last been seen. + </p> + <p> + “Not much!” said Knight, as reaching out of the stern he + gripped Barry by the hair. “Hold hard, Barry,” he said + quietly. “No monkey work now or you'll drown us all.” + Immediately Barry ceased struggling. + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to get in, Barry. We'll have to tow you + ashore.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Jim,” he said between his sobbing breaths. “Only—hurry + up—I've got him—here.” + </p> + <p> + Knight reached down carefully, lifted Barry till his hand touched the + gunwale of the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “Not too hard, Barry,” he said. “I'll ease you + round to the stern. Steady, boy, steady. Don't dump us.” + </p> + <p> + “All right—Jim—but—he's under the water—here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind him. We'll get him all right. Can you hold on + now?” said Knight. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, for God's sake, Tom, edge her into the shore. See that + little eddy there? Swing into that! You'll do it all right. Good + man!” + </p> + <p> + By this time Knight was able to get Harry's head above water. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes they had reached the shore, and were working hard over + Harry's unconscious body, leaving Barry lying on the sand to recover + his strength. A long fight was necessary to bring the life back into + Harry, by which time Barry was sufficiently recovered to sit up. + </p> + <p> + “Stay where you are, Barry, until we get this man back to camp,” + ordered Knight. “We'll light a bit of a fire for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm warm enough,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Warm enough? You may be, but you will be better with a fire, and + you lie beside it till we get you. Don't move now.” + </p> + <p> + “There's the other canoes coming,” said Fielding. + “They'll make shore a little lower down. They're all + right. Say, she's handling that canoe like a man!” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Howland,” said Fielding. “She was out after + you like a shot. She's a plucky one!” + </p> + <p> + Barry was on his feet in an instant, watching anxiously the progress of + the canoes, which were being slowly edged across the river in a long + incline toward the shore. + </p> + <p> + “They'll make it, all right,” said Knight, after + observing them for a time. “Don't you worry. Just lie down by + the fire. We'll be back in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + In an hour they were all safely back in camp, and sufficiently recovered + to discover the humorous points in the episode. But they were all familiar + enough with the treacherous possibilities of rough and rapid water to know + that for Hobbs and his deliverer at least, there had been some serious + moments during their fierce struggle in the river. + </p> + <p> + “Another minute would have done,” said Fielding to his friend, + as they sat over the fire after supper. + </p> + <p> + “A half a minute would have been just as good,” said Knight. + “I got Barry by the hair under water. He was at his last kick, you + bet! And that rat,” he added, smiling good naturedly at Harry, + “was dragging him down for the last time.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know nothin' about it,” said poor Harry, + who was lying stretched out by the fire, still very weak and miserable. + “I didn't know nothin' about it, or you bet I woudn't + ha' done it. I didn't know nothin' after he got me.” + </p> + <p> + “After you got him, you mean,” said Fielding. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's right,” said Harry, “but I wouldn't + ha' got him if he hadn't ha' got me first.” + </p> + <p> + They all joined in the discussion of the event except Paula, who sat + distrait and silent, gazing into the fire, and Barry, who lay, drowsy and + relaxed, on a blanket not far from her side. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to go to bed,” said Paula at length in a low voice + to him. “You need a good night's sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm too tired to sleep,” said Barry. “I feel + rather rotten, in fact. I ought to feel very grateful, but somehow I just + feel rotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Can one be grateful and feel rotten at the same time?” said + Paula, making talk. + </p> + <p> + “Behold me,” replied Barry. “I know I am grateful, but I + do feel rotten. I don't think I have even thanked you for risking + your life for me,” he added, turning toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Risking my life? Nonsense! I paddled 'round in the canoe for + a bit, till two strong men came to tow me in, and would have, if I had + allowed them. Thank the boys, who got you in time.” She shuddered as + she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I do thank them, and I do feel grateful to them,” said Barry. + “It was rather a near thing. You see, I let him grip me. I choked + him off my arms, but he slid down to my thigh, and I could not kick him + off. Had to practically drown him. Even then he hung on.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't speak about it,” she said with a shudder, + covering her face with her hands. “It was too awful, and it might + have been the end of you.” Her voice broke a little. + </p> + <p> + “No, not an end,” answered Barry, in a quiet voice. “Not + the end by a long way, not by a very long way.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? Oh, you are thinking of immortality, and all + that,” said Paula. “It's a chilly, ghostly subject. It + makes me shiver. I get little comfort out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ghostly it is, if you mean a thing of spirits,” said Barry, + “but chilly! Why chilly?” Then he added to himself in an + undertone: “I wonder! I wonder! I wish sometimes I knew more.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes?” cried Paula. “Always!” she added + passionately. “It's a dreadful business to me. To be suddenly + snatched out of the light and the warmth, away from the touch of warm + fingers and the sight of dear faces! Ah, I dread it! I loathe the thought + of it. I hate it!” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” mused Barry, “somehow I cannot forget that + out there somewhere there is One, kindly, genial, true,—like my dad. + How good he has been to me—my dad, I mean, and that Other, too, has + been good. Somehow I think of them together. Yes, I am grateful to Him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God, you mean,” said Paula, a little impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to God. He saved me to-day. 'Saved,' I say. It is + a queer way to speak, after all. What I really ought to say is that God + thought it best that I should camp 'round here for a bit longer + before moving in nearer.” + </p> + <p> + “Nearer?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, into the nearer circle. Life moves 'round a centre, in + outer and inner circles. This is the outer circle. Nearer in there, it is + kindlier, with better light and clearer vision. 'We shall know even + as we are known.'” Barry mused on, as if communing with + himself. + </p> + <p> + “But when you move in,” said Paula, and there was no mistaking + the earnestness of her tone, “you break touch with those you love + here.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” answered Barry quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes you do. You are out of all this,—all this,” she + swept her hand at the world around her, “this good old world, all + your joy and happiness, all you love. Oh, that's the worst of it; + you give up your love. I hate it!” she concluded with vehemence + sudden and fierce, as she shook her fist towards the stars. + </p> + <p> + “Give up your love?” said Barry. “Not I! Not one good, + honest affection do I mean to give up, nor shall I.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense! Don't be religious. Just be honest,” said + Paula, in a low, intense voice. “Let me speak to you. Suppose I—I + love a man with all my soul and body—and body, mind you, and he goes + out, or goes in, as you say. No matter, he goes out of my life. I lose + him, he is not here. I cannot feel and respond to his love. I cannot feel + his strong arms about me. My God!” Her voice came with increasing + vehemence. “I want his arms. I want him as he is. I want his body—I + cannot love a ghost. No! no!” she added in a low, hopeless voice. + “When he goes out I lose him, and lose him as mine forever. Oh, what + do I care for your spirit love! The old Greeks were right. They are shades—shades, + mere shades beyond the river. I don't want a shade. I want a man, a + strong, warm-hearted, brave man. Yes, a good man, a man with a soul. But a + MAN, not a SOUL. My God!” she moaned, “how terrible it all is! + And it came so near to us to-day. But I should not be saying this to you, + played out as you are. I am going to bed. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand and gripped his in warm, strong, muscular fingers. + “Thank God, yes God, if you like, you are still—still in this + outer circle,”—she broke into a laugh, but there was little + mirth in her laughter—“this good old outer circle, yet awhile.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Barry simply but very earnestly, “thank God. + It is a good world. But with all my soul I believe there is a better, and + all that is best in love and life we shall take with us. Good-night,” + he added, “and thank you, at least for the will and the attempt to + save my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Sleep well,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” he replied, “but I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + His doubts, it turned out, were justified, for soon after midnight Mr. + Howland was aroused by Harry Hobbs in a terror of excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Will you come to Mr. Dunbar, sir?” he cried. “I think + he is dying.” + </p> + <p> + “Dying?” Mr. Howland was out of his cot immediately and at + Barry's side. He found him fighting for breath, his eyes starting + from his head, a look of infinite distress on his face. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy, what is it? Hobbs says you are dying.” + </p> + <p> + “That con-con-founded—fool—shouldn't have—called + you. I forbade—him,” gasped Barry. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear boy, what is the matter? Are you in pain?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,—it's—nothing—only an old—friend + come back—for a call,—a brief one—let us—hope. It's + only asthma. Looks bad—feels worse—but really—not at all + dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + “What can be done, my boy?” asked Mr. Howland, greatly + relieved, as are most laymen, when the trouble can be named. It is upon + the terror inspired by the unknown that the medical profession lives. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Harry—to make—a hot drink,” said Barry, but + Harry had already forestalled the request, and appeared with a steaming + bowl. “This will—help. Now—go to—bed, Mr. Howland. + Do, please.—You distress—me by remaining—there. Harry + will—look after me. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Next morning Barry appeared at breakfast a little washed out in + appearance, but quite bright and announcing himself fit for anything. + </p> + <p> + The incident, however, was a determining factor in changing the party's + plans. Already they were behind their time schedule, to Mr. Cornwall Brand's + disgust. The party was too large and too heavily encumbered with + impedimenta for swift travel. Besides, as Paula said, “Why rush? Are + we not doing the Peace River Country? We are out for a good time and we + are having it.” Paula was not interested in mines and oil. She did + not announce just what special interest was hers. She was “having a + good time” and that was reason enough for leisurely travel. In + consequence their provisions had run low. + </p> + <p> + It was decided to send forward a scouting party to the Hudson's Bay + Post some thirty miles further on to restock their commissariat. + Accordingly Knight and Fielding were despatched on this mission, the rest + of the party remaining in camp. + </p> + <p> + “A lazy day or two in camp is what we all need,” said Mr. + Howland. “I confess I am quite used up myself, and therefore I know + you must all feel much the same.” + </p> + <p> + On the fourth day the scouting party appeared. + </p> + <p> + “There's war!” cried Knight as he touched land. He flung + out a bundle of papers for Mr. Howland. + </p> + <p> + “War!” The word came back in tones as varied as those who + uttered it. + </p> + <p> + “War!” said Mr. Howland. “Between whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Every one, pretty much,” said Knight. “Germany, France, + Russia, Austria, Servia, Belgium, and Britain.” + </p> + <p> + “Britain!” said Barry and Duff at the same moment. + </p> + <p> + “Britain,” answered Knight solemnly. + </p> + <p> + The men stood stock still, looking at each other with awed faces. + </p> + <p> + “War!” again said Barry. “With Germany!” He turned + abruptly away from the group and said, “I am going.” + </p> + <p> + “Going! Going where?” said Mr. Howland. + </p> + <p> + “To the war,” said Barry quietly. + </p> + <p> + “To the war! You? A clergyman?” said Mr. Howland. + </p> + <p> + “You? You going?” cried Paula. At the pain in her voice her + father and Brand turned and looked at her. Disturbed by what he saw, her + father began an excited appeal to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear sir, it would surely be most unusual for a man like + you to go to war,” he began, and for quite ten minutes he proceeded + to set forth in fluent and excited speech a number of reasons why the idea + of Barry's going to war was absurd and preposterous to him. It must + be confessed that Barry was the only one of the men who appeared to give + much heed to him. They seemed to be dazed by the stupendous fact that had + been announced to them, and to be adjusting themselves to that fact. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his lengthy and excited speech Brand took up the + discourse. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you don't think of going immediately,” he + said. “We have this expedition in hand.” + </p> + <p> + The men made no reply. Indeed, they hardly seemed to hear him. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say,” continued Brand with a touch of + indignation in his voice, addressing Duff, the recognised leader of the + party, “that you would break your engagement with this party, Mr. + Duff?” + </p> + <p> + Duff glanced at him, then looked away in silence, studying the horizon. + The world was to him and to them all a new world within the last few + minutes. + </p> + <p> + His silence appeared to enrage Brand. He turned to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you approve of this? Do you + consider it right and fair that these men should break their engagement + with us? We have gone to great expense, we have extremely important + interests at stake in this exploration.” + </p> + <p> + Barry stood looking at him in silence, as if trying to take in exactly + what he meant, then in a low and awed tone he said: + </p> + <p> + “It is war! War with Germany!” + </p> + <p> + “We cannot help that,” cried Brand. “What difference can + this war make to you here a hundred miles from civilisation? These men are + pledged to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Their first pledge is to their country, sir,” said Barry + gravely. + </p> + <p> + “But why should you, a Canadian, take part in this war?” + argued Mr. Howland. “Surely this is England's war.” + </p> + <p> + Then Barry appeared to awake as from a dream. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is England's war, it is Britain's war, and when + Britain is at war my country is at war, and when my country is at war I + ought to be there.” + </p> + <p> + “God in heaven!” shouted Duff, striking him on the back, + “you have said it! My country is at war, and I must be there. As God + hears me, I am off to-day—now.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, too!” said Knight with a shout. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going with you, sir,” said little Harry Hobbs, + ranging himself beside Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Count me in,” said Tom Fielding quietly. “I have a wife + and three kids, but—” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” gasped Duff. “My wife.” His face went + white. He had not yet fully adjusted himself to the fact of war. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” said Mr. Howland, “you married men won't + be called upon. You must be reasonable. For instance you, Mr. Duff, cannot + leave your wife.” + </p> + <p> + But Duff had recovered himself. + </p> + <p> + “My wife, sir? My wife would despise me if I stayed up here. Sir, my + wife will buckle on my belt and spurs and send me off to the war,” + cried Duff in a voice that shook as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + With a single stride Barry was at his side, offering both his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God for men like you! And in my soul I believe the Empire has + millions of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Does your Empire demand that you desert those you have pledged + yourself to?” enquired Brand in a sneering tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Cornwall!” exclaimed Paula, “how can you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Brand,” said Mr. Howland, “that is unworthy of + you.” + </p> + <p> + “We will see you into safety, sir,” said Duff, swinging round + upon Brand, “either to the Hudson's Bay Company's post, + where you can get Indians, or back to Edmonton, but not one step further + on this expedition do I go.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Knight. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Fielding. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Harry Hobbs. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, sir,” said Mr. Howland, turning to + Barry. “I apologise to you, sir, to all of you Canadians. I am + ashamed to confess that I did not at first get the full meaning of this + terrific thing that has befallen your Empire. Were it the U.S.A. that was + in a war of this kind, hell itself would not keep me from going to her + aid. Nor you either, Brand. Yes, you are right. Go to your war. God go + with you.” + </p> + <p> + He shook hands solemnly with them one by one. “I only wish to God + that my country were with you, too, in this thing,” he said when he + had performed this function. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” cried Paula, “do you think for one minute that + Uncle Sam won't be in this? You put it down,” she said, + swinging 'round upon Barry, “where it will jump at you some + day: We will be with you in this scrap for all we are worth.” + </p> + <p> + “And now for the march,” said Barry, who seemed almost to + assume command. Then removing his hat and lifting high his hand, he said + in a voice thrilling with solemn reverence, “God grant victory to + the right! God save the king!” + </p> + <p> + Instinctively the men took off their hats and stood with bared and bent + heads, as if sharing in a solemn ritual. They stood with millions upon + millions of their kin in the old mother lands, and scattered wide upon the + seas, stood with many millions more of peoples and nations, pledging to + this same cause of right, life and love and all they held dear, and with + hearts open to that all-searching eye, praying that same prayer, “God + grant victory to the right. Amen and amen. We ask no other.” + </p> + <p> + Then they faced to their hundred miles' trek en route to the war. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + THE MEN OF THE NORTH + </h3> + <p> + “Fifty miles—not too bad, boy, not too bad for a one day's + go. We'll camp right here at the portage. How is it, Knight?” + </p> + <p> + “Good place, Duff, right on that point. Good wood, good landing. + Besides there's a deuce of a portage beyond, which we can do after + supper to-night. How do you feel, Barry?” asked Knight. “Hard + day, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Feeling fit, a little tired, of course, but good for another ten + miles,” answered Barry. + </p> + <p> + “That's the stuff,” replied Knight, looking at him + keenly, “but, see here, you must ease up on the carrying. You haven't + quite got over that ducking of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm fit enough,” answered Barry, rather more curtly + than his wont. + </p> + <p> + They brought the canoes up to the landing, and with the speed of long + practice unloaded them, and drew them upon the shore. + </p> + <p> + Knight approached Duff, and, pointing toward Barry, said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “I guess we'll have to ease him up a bit. That fight, you + know, took it out of him, and he always jumps for the biggest pack. We'd + better hold him back to-morrow a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't hold back any one,” said Duff, with an oath. + “We've got to make it to-morrow night. There's the devil + of a trip before us. That big marsh portage is a heartbreaker, and there + must be a dozen or fifteen of them awaiting us, and we're going to + get through—at least, I am.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Knight, with a quick flash of temper. + “I'll stay with you, only I thought we might ease him a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm telling you, we're going to get through,” + said Duff, with another oath. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't tell me, Duff,” said Knight. “Keep + your shirt on.” + </p> + <p> + “On or off, wet or dry, sink or swim, we're going to make that + train to-morrow, Knight. That's all about it.” + </p> + <p> + Then Knight let himself go. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Duff. Do you want to go on to-night? If you do, hell and + blazes, say the word and I'm with you.” + </p> + <p> + His face was white as he spoke. He seized a tump-line, swung the pack upon + his head, and set off across the portage. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, boys,” he yelled. “We're going through + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hold up, Knight!” said Duff. “What the hell's + eating you? We'll grub first anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Knight. “The next rapid is a bad bit of + water, and if we're going through to-night, I want that bit behind + me, before it gets too dark. So come along!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, cut it out, Knight,” said Duff, in a gruff but + conciliatory tone. “We'll camp right here.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all the same to me,” said Knight, flinging his + pack down. “When you want to go on, say the word. You won't + have to ask me twice.” + </p> + <p> + Duff looked over the six feet of bone and sinew and muscle of the young + rancher, made as if to answer, paused a moment, changed his mind, and said + more quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Don't be an ass, Knight. I'm not trying to hang your + shirt on a tree.” + </p> + <p> + “You know damned well you can't,” said Knight, who was + still white with passion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come off,” replied Duff. “Anyway, I don't see + what young Dunbar is to you. We must get through to-morrow night. The + overseas contingent is camping at Valcartier, according to these papers + and whatever happens I am going with that contingent.” + </p> + <p> + Knight made no reply. He was a little ashamed of his temper. But during + the past two days he had chafed under the rasp of Duff's tongue and + his overbearing manner. He resented too his total disregard of Barry's + weariness, for in spite of his sheer grit, the pace was wearing the boy + down. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to reach the railroad by six to-morrow,” said Duff, + renewing the conversation, and anxious to appease his comrade. “There's + a late train, but if we catch the six we shall make home in good time. + Hello, what's this coming?” + </p> + <p> + At his words they all turned and looked in the direction in which he + pointed. + </p> + <p> + Down a stream, which at this point came tumbling into theirs in a + dangerous looking rapid, came a canoe with a man in the centre guiding it + as only an expert could. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! He can't make that drop,” said Knight, walking + down toward the landing. + </p> + <p> + They all stood watching the canoe which, at the moment, hung poised upon + the brink of the rapid like a bird for flight. Even as Knight spoke the + canoe entered the first smooth pitch at the top. Two long, swallow-like + sweeps, then she plunged into the foam, to appear a moment later fighting + her way through the mass of crowding, crested waves, which, like + white-fanged wolves upon a doe, seemed to be hurling themselves upon her, + intent upon bearing her down to destruction. + </p> + <p> + “By the living, jumping Jemima!” said Fielding, in an + awe-stricken tone, “she's gone!” + </p> + <p> + “She's through!” cried Knight. + </p> + <p> + “Great Jehoshaphat!” said Fielding. “He's a bird!” + </p> + <p> + With a flip or two of his paddle, the stranger shot his canoe across the + stream, and floated quietly to the landing. + </p> + <p> + Barry ran down to meet him. + </p> + <p> + “I say, that was beautifully done,” he cried, taking the nose + of the canoe while the man stepped ashore and stood a moment looking back + at the water. + </p> + <p> + “A leetle more to the left would have been better, I think. She took + some water,” he remarked in a slow voice, as if to himself. + </p> + <p> + He was a strange-looking creature. He might have stepped out of one of + Fenimore Cooper's novels. Indeed, as Barry's eyes travelled up + and down his long, bony, stooping, slouching figure, his mind leaped at + once to the Pathfinder. + </p> + <p> + “Come far?” asked Duff, approaching the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Quite a bit,” he answered, in a quiet, courteous voice, + pausing a moment in his work. + </p> + <p> + “Going out?” enquired Duff. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” he said. “Going up the country first to The + Post.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, we have just come down from there,” said Duff. “We + started yesterday morning,” he added, evidently hoping to surprise + the man. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered in a quiet tone of approval. “Nice + little run! Nice little run! Bit of a hurry, I guess,” he ventured + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “You bet your life, we just are. This damned war makes a man feel + like as if the devil was after him,” said Duff. + </p> + <p> + “War!” The man looked blankly at him. “Who's + fightin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, haven't you heard? It's been going on for a month. + We heard only three days ago as we were going further up the country. It + knocked our plans endways, and here we are chasing ourselves to get out.” + </p> + <p> + “War!” said the man again. “Who's fightin'? + Uncle Sam after them Mexicans?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Mexicans, hell!” exclaimed Duff. “Germany and + Britain.” + </p> + <p> + “Britain!” The slouching shoulders lost their droop. “Britain!” + he said, straightening himself up. “What's she been doin' + to Germany?” + </p> + <p> + “What's Germany been doing to her, and to Belgium, and to + Servia, and to France?” answered Duff, in a wrathful voice. “She's + been raising hell all around. You haven't seen the papers, eh? I + have them all here.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger seemed dazed by the news. He made no reply, but getting out + his frying-pan and tea-pail, his only utensils, he set about preparing his + evening meal. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Duff, “won't you eat with us? We're + just about ready. We'll be glad to have you.” + </p> + <p> + The man hesitated a perceptible moment. In the wilds men do not always + accept invitations to eat. Food is sometimes worth more than its weight in + gold. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I will, if you've lots of stuff,” he said at + length. + </p> + <p> + “We've lots of grub, and we expect to be home by tomorrow + night anyway, if things go all right. You are very welcome.” + </p> + <p> + The man laid down his frying-pan and tea-pail, and walked with Duff toward + his camp. + </p> + <p> + “Are you goin'?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Going?” + </p> + <p> + “To the war. Guess some of our Canadian boys will be goin' + likely, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Going,” cried Duff. “You bet your life I'm going. + But, come on. We'll talk as we eat. And we can't stay long, + either.” + </p> + <p> + Duff introduced the party. + </p> + <p> + “My name's McCuaig,” said the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Scotch, I guess?” enquired Duff. + </p> + <p> + “My father came out with The Company. I was born up north. Never + been much out, but I read the papers,” he added quickly, as if to + correct any misapprehension as to his knowledge of the world and its + affairs. “My father always got the Times and the Spectator, and I've + continued the habit.” + </p> + <p> + “Any one who reads the Times and the Spectator,” said Barry, + “can claim to be a fairly well-read man. My father takes the + Spectator, too.” + </p> + <p> + As they sat down to supper, he noticed that McCuaig took off his old grey + felt and crossed himself before beginning toast. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of courtesy, Barry had always been asked to say grace before + meals while with the Howland party. This custom, however, had been + discontinued upon this trip. They had no time for meals. They had “just + grabbed their grub and run,” as Harry Hobbs said. + </p> + <p> + While they ate, Duff kept a full tide of conversation going in regard to + the causes of the war and its progress, as reported in the papers. Barry + noticed that McCuaig's comments, though few, revealed a unique + knowledge of European political affairs during the last quarter of a + century. He noticed too that his manners at the table were those of a + gentleman. + </p> + <p> + After supper they packed their stuff over the long portage, leaving their + tent and sleeping gear, with their food, however, to be taken in the + morning. For a long time they sat over the fire, Barry reading, for + McCuaig's benefit, the newspaper accounts of the Belgian atrocities, + the story of the smashing drive of the German hosts, and the retreat of + the British army from Mons. + </p> + <p> + “What,” exclaimed McCuaig, “the British soldiers goin' + back! Runnin' away from them Germans!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the Germans are only about ten to one, not only in men but in + guns, and in this war it's guns that count. Guns can wipe out an + army of heroes as easily as an army of cowards,” said Duff. + </p> + <p> + “And them women and children,” said McCuaig. “Are they + killing them still?” + </p> + <p> + “You're just right, they are,” replied Duff, “and + will till we stop them.” + </p> + <p> + McCuaig's eyes were glowing with a deep inner light. They were + wonderful eyes, quick, darting, straight-looking and fearless, the eyes of + a man who owes his life to his vigilance and his courage. + </p> + <p> + Before turning in for the night, Barry went to the river's edge, and + stood looking up at the stars holding their steadfast watch over the + turbulent and tossing waters below. + </p> + <p> + “Quiet, ain't they?” said a voice at his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you startled me, Mr. McCuaig; I never heard you step.” + </p> + <p> + McCuaig laughed his quiet laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Got to move quietly in this country,” he said, “if you + are going to keep alive.” + </p> + <p> + A moment or so he stood by Barry's side, looking up with him at the + stars. + </p> + <p> + “No fuss, up there,” he said, interpreting Barry's mood + and attitude. “Not like that there pitchin', tossin', + threatenin' water.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Barry, “but though they look quiet, I suppose + if we could really see, there is a most terrific whirling of millions of + stars up there, going at the rate of thousands of miles a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Millions of 'em, and all whirlin' about,” said + McCuaig in an awe-stricken voice. “It's a wonder they don't + hit.” + </p> + <p> + “They don't hit because they each keep their own orbit,” + said Barry, “and they obey the laws of their existence.” + </p> + <p> + “Orbut,” enquired McCuaig. “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “The trail that each star follows,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said McCuaig, “each one keeps its own trail, + its own orbut, and so there's peace up there. And I guess there'd + be peace down here if folks did the same thing. It's when a man gets + out of his own orbut and into another fellow's that the scrap + begins. I guess that's where Germany's got wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Something like that,” replied Barry. + </p> + <p> + “And sometimes,” continued McCuaig, his eyes upon the stars, + “when a little one comes up against a big one, he gets busted, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Barry nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And a big one, when he comes up against a bigger one gets pretty + badly jarred, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “That's what's goin' to happen to Germany,” + said McCuaig. + </p> + <p> + “Germany's a very powerful nation,” said Barry. “The + most powerful military nation in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said McCuaig. “Bigger than Britain?” + </p> + <p> + “Britain has two or three hundred thousand men in her army; Germany + has seven millions or more, with seventy millions of people behind them, + organised for war. Of course, Britain has her navy, but then Germany has + the next biggest in the world. Oh, it's going to be a terrific war.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said McCuaig, putting his hand on Barry's + shoulder. “You don't think it will bother us any to lick her?” + </p> + <p> + “It will be the most terrible of all Britain's wars,” + replied Barry. “It will take every ounce of Britain's + strength.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't tell me!” exclaimed McCuaig, as if struck by + an entirely new idea. “Say, are you really anxious, young man?” + </p> + <p> + “I am terribly anxious,” replied Barry. “I know Germany + a little. I spent a year there. She is a mighty nation, and she is ready + for war.” + </p> + <p> + “She is, eh!” replied McCuaig thoughtfully. He wandered off to + the fire without further word, where, rolling himself in his blanket and + scorning the place in the tent offered him by Duff, he made himself + comfortable for the night. + </p> + <p> + At the break of day Duff was awakened by the smell of something frying. + Over the fire bent McCuaig, busy preparing a breakfast of tea, bacon and + bannocks, together with thick slices of fat pork. + </p> + <p> + Breakfast was eaten in haste. The day's work was before them, and + there was no time for talk. In a very few minutes they stood ready for + their trip across the portage. + </p> + <p> + With them stood McCuaig. His blanket roll containing his grub, with + frying-pan and tea-pail attached, lay at his feet; his rifle beside it. + </p> + <p> + For a moment or two he stood looking back up the stream by which, last + night, he had come. Then he began tying his paddles to the canoe thwarts + in preparation for packing it across the portage. + </p> + <p> + As he was tying on the second paddle, Duff's eye fell on him. + </p> + <p> + “What's up, McCuaig?” he said. “Aren't you + going up to the Post?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I guess I ain't goin' up no more,” replied + McCuaig slowly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? You aren't going back home?” + </p> + <p> + “No. My old shack will do without me for a while, I guess.—Say,” + he continued, facing around upon Duff and looking him squarely in the + face, “this young chap says”—putting his hand upon Barry's + shoulder—“Britain is going to have a hell of a time licking + Germany back into her own orbut. Them papers said last night that Canada + was going in strong. Do you think she could use a fellow like me?” + </p> + <p> + A silence fell upon the group of men. + </p> + <p> + “What! Do you mean it, McCuaig?” said Duff at length. + </p> + <p> + The man turned his thin, eagle face toward the speaker, a light in his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, ain't you goin'? Ain't every one goin' + that can? If a fellow stood on one side while his country was fightin', + where would he live when it's all over? He read out of the papers + that them Germans were shootin' women and children. So—” + his face began to work, “am I goin' to stand by and ask some + one else to make 'em quit? No, by God!” + </p> + <p> + The men stood watching his face, curiously twisted and quivering. Then + without a word Duff seized his pack, and swung into the trail, every man + following him in his order. Without pausing, except for a brief half hour + at noon, and another later in the day for eating, they pressed the trail, + running what rapids they could and portaging the others, until in the + early evening they saw, far away, a dirty blur on the skyline. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” yelled Fielding. “Good old firebus, waiting + for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody run ahead and hold her,” said Duff. + </p> + <p> + Barry flung his pack down and started away. + </p> + <p> + “Come back here, Barry,” cried Knight. “You're not + fit. You're all in.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, too,” said McCuaig. “I guess I'll + go.” + </p> + <p> + And off he set with the long, shuffling, tireless trot with which, for a + hundred years, the “runners of the woods” have packed their + loads and tracked their game in the wilds of northwestern Canada. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + BARRICADES AND BAYONETS + </h3> + <p> + The city of Edmonton was in an uproar, its streets thronged with excited + men, ranchers and cowboys from the ranches, lumberjacks from the foothill + camps, men from the mines, trappers with lean, hard faces, in weird garb, + from the north. + </p> + <p> + The news from the front was ominous. Belgium was a smoking waste. Her + skies were black with the burning of her towns, villages and homesteads, + her soil red with the blood of her old men, her women and children. The + French armies, driven back in rout from the Belgian frontier, were being + pounded to death by the German hordes. Fortresses hitherto considered + impregnable were tumbling like ninepins before the terrible smashing of + Austrian and German sixteen-inch guns. Already von Kluck with his four + hundred thousand of conquering warriors was at the gates of Paris. + </p> + <p> + Most ominous of all, the British army, that gallant, little sacrificial + army, of a scant seventy-five thousand men, holding like a bulldog to the + flank of von Bulow's mighty army, fifty times as strong, threatened + by von Kluck on the left flank and by von Housen on the right, was slowing + down the German advance, but was itself being slowly ground into the + bloody dust of the northern and eastern roads of Northern and Eastern + France. + </p> + <p> + Black days these were for the men of British blood. Was the world to see + something new in war? Were Germans to overcome men of the race of Nelson, + and Wellington and Colin Campbell? + </p> + <p> + At home, hundreds of thousands were battering at the recruiting offices. + In the Dominions of the Empire overseas it was the same. In Canada a + hundred thousand men were demanding a place in the first Canadian + contingent of thirty-five thousand, now almost ready to sail. General Sam + at Ottawa was being snowed under by entreating, insistent, cajoling, + threatening telegrams. Already northern Alberta had sent two thousand men. + The rumour in Edmonton ran that there were only a few places left to be + filled in the north Alberta quota. For these few places hundreds of men + were fighting in the streets. + </p> + <p> + Alighting from their train, Duff and his men stood amazed, aghast, gazing + upon the scene before them. Duff climbed a wagon wheel and surveyed the + crowd packing the street in front of the bulletin boards. + </p> + <p> + “No use, this way, boys. We'll have to go around. Come on.” + </p> + <p> + They went on. Up side streets and lanes, through back yards and shops they + went until at length they emerged within a hundred yards of the recruiting + office. + </p> + <p> + Duff called his men about him. + </p> + <p> + “Boys, we'll have to bluff them,” he said. “You're + a party of recruits that Col. Kavanagh expects. You've been sent + for. I'm bringing you in under orders. Look as much like soldiers as + you can, and bore in like hell. Come on!” + </p> + <p> + They began to bore. At once there was an uproar, punctuated with + vociferous and varied profanity. + </p> + <p> + Duff proved himself an effective leader. + </p> + <p> + “Here, let me pass,” he shouted into the backs of men's + heads. “I'm on duty here. I must get through to Colonel + Kavanagh. Keep up there, men; keep your line! Stand back, please! Make + way!” + </p> + <p> + His huge bulk, distorted face and his loud and authoritative voice + startled men into temporary submission, and before they could recover + themselves he and his little company of hard-boring men were through. + </p> + <p> + Twenty-five yards from the recruiting office a side rush of the crowd + caught them. + </p> + <p> + “They've smashed the barricades,” a boy from a telegraph + pole called out. + </p> + <p> + Duff and his men fought to hold their places, but they became conscious of + a steady pressure backwards. + </p> + <p> + “What's doing now, boy?” shouted Duff to the urchin + clinging to the telegraph pole. + </p> + <p> + “The fusileers—they are sticking their bayonets into them.” + </p> + <p> + Before the line of bayonets the crowd retreated slowly, but Duff and his + company held their ground, allowing the crowd to ebb past them, until they + found themselves against the line of bayonets. + </p> + <p> + “Let me through here, sergeant, with my party,” said Duff. + “I'm under orders of Colonel Kavanagh.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant, an old British army man, looked them over. + </p> + <p> + “Have you an order, sir—a written order, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Duff. “I haven't, but the colonel + expects us. He is waiting for me now.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, sir,” replied the sergeant, “my orders are to + let no one through without a written pass.” + </p> + <p> + Duff argued, stormed, threatened, swore; but to no purpose. The N. C. O. + knew his job. + </p> + <p> + “Send a note in,” suggested Barry in Duff's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Good idea,” replied Duff, and wrote hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Here, take this through to your colonel,” he said, passing + the note to the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately Colonel Kavanagh came out and greeted Duff warmly. + </p> + <p> + “Where in this wide creation have you been, Duff?” he + exclaimed. “I've wanted you terribly.” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am now, then,” answered Duff. “Six of us. We're + going with you.” + </p> + <p> + “It can't be done,” said the colonel. “I have only + twenty places left; every one promised ten times over.” + </p> + <p> + “That makes it easy, Kavanagh. You can give six of them to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Duff, it simply can't be done. You know I'd give it to + you if I could. I've wires from Ottawa backing up a hundred + applicants, actually ordering me to put them on. No! It's no use,” + continued the colonel, holding up his hand. “Look here, I'll + give you a pointer. We have got word to-day that there's to be a + second contingent. Neil Fraser is out there in your district, Wapiti, + raising a company of two hundred and fifty men. We have stripped that + country bare already, so he's up against it. He wants Wapiti men, he + says. They are no better than any other, but he thinks they are. You get + out there to-night, Duff, and get in on that thing. You will get a + commission, too. Now hike! Hike! Go! Honest to God, Duff, I want you with + my battalion, and if I can work it afterwards, I'll get you + exchanged, but your only chance now is Wapiti. Go, for God's sake, + go quick!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say, boys?” asked Duff, wheeling upon his men. + </p> + <p> + “I say, go!” said Knight. + </p> + <p> + In this decision they all agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Go it is,” said Duff. “Right about turn. Good luck, + Kavanagh, damn you. I see you have got a good sergeant there.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? McDowell? None better. You couldn't beat him, eh?” + said the colonel with a grin. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant stood at attention, with a wooden face. + </p> + <p> + “He's the kind of man they want in the front lines,” + said Duff. “The devil himself couldn't break through where he + is.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I have him. Good luck. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + Throughout the night they marched, now and then receiving a lift from a + ranch wagon, and in the grey of the morning, weary, hungry, but resolute + for a place in the Wapiti company, they made the village. + </p> + <p> + Early as it was, Barry found his father astir, with breakfast in + readiness. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, boy!” cried his father running to him with + outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, dad!” answered Barry. His father threw a searching + glance over his son's face as he shook his hand warmly. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word, Barry, until you eat. Not a word. Go get ready for your + bath. I'll have it for you in a minute. No, not one word. Quick. + March. That is the only word these days. As you eat I'll give you + the news.” + </p> + <p> + Resolutely he refused to talk until he saw his son begin upon his + breakfast. Then he poured forth a stream of news. The whole country was + aflame with war enthusiasm. Alberta had offered half a million bushels of + oats for the imperial army, and a thousand horses or more. The Calgary + district had recruited two thousand men, the Edmonton district as many + more. All over Canada, from Vancouver to Halifax, it was the same. + </p> + <p> + From the Wapiti district twenty-six ranchers, furnishing their own horses, + had already gone. Ewen Innes was in Edmonton. His brother Malcolm was in + uniform, too, and his young brother Jim was keen to enlist. Neil Fraser + was busy raising a company of Wapiti men. Young Pickles and McCann had + joined up as buglers. + </p> + <p> + And so the stream flowed, Barry listening with grave face but making no + response. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm glad you're back, my boy. I'm glad you're + back,” said his father, clapping him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. They were having each his own + thoughts, and for the first time in their life together, they kept their + thoughts to themselves. + </p> + <p> + “You're going to your office, Dad,” said Barry, when + they had cleared away, and set the house in order. + </p> + <p> + “No, the office is closed, and will be for some time, I imagine. I'm + busy with Neil Fraser. I'm acting paymaster, quartermaster, + recruiting sergeant, and half a dozen other things.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go down with you,” said Barry, as his father rose + to go. + </p> + <p> + His father came back to him, put his hands on his shoulders, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Barry, I want you to go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, dad. I'm all right. I'm going downtown with + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” said his father, “we have hard times before us, + and you must be fit. I ask you to go to bed and sleep there this forenoon. + You're half asleep now. This afternoon we shall face up to our job.” + </p> + <p> + His father's voice was quietly authoritative and Barry yielded. + </p> + <p> + “All right, dad. I'll do as you say, and this afternoon—well, + we'll see.” + </p> + <p> + At the noonday meal they were conscious of a mutual restraint. For the + first time in their lives they were not opening to each other their + innermost souls. The experience was as distressing as it was unusual. The + father, as if in dread of silence, was obviously exerting himself to keep + a stream of talk flowing. Barry was listening with a face very grave and + very unlike the bright and buoyant face he usually carried. They avoided + each other's eyes, and paid little heed to their food. + </p> + <p> + At length Barry pushed back his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Will you excuse me, dad,” he said. “I think I shall + step out a moment into the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, Barry,” said his father, in obvious relief. “You + are fagged out, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, dad. I am a bit played out.” + </p> + <p> + “And take it easy this afternoon, Barry. To-night you will tell me + about your trip, and—and—we'll have a talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Good old dad!” said Barry. “You do understand a chap. + See you later, then,” he called back as he passed through the door. + </p> + <p> + His father sat gazing before him for some moments with a deep shadow on + his face. + </p> + <p> + “There is something wrong with that boy,” he said to himself. + “I wish I knew what it was.” + </p> + <p> + He set his house in order, moving heavily as if a sudden weight of years + had fallen upon his shoulders, and took his way slowly down the street. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what it is,” he mused, refusing to give form to a + horrible thought that hovered like a spectre about the windows of his + soul. + </p> + <p> + The first glance at his son's face at the time of the evening meal + made his heart sing within him. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right again! He's all right!” he said to + himself jubilantly. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, dad,” cried Barry, as his father entered the room. + “Supper's just ready. How do you feel, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Better, my boy—first rate, I mean. I'm properly hungry. + You're rested, I can see.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right, dad! I'm all right!” cried Barry, + in his old cheery way. “Dad, I want to apologise to you. I wasn't + myself to-day, but now I'm all right again. Dad, I've joined + up. I'm a soldier now,” he said with a smile on his face, but + with anxious eyes turned on his father. + </p> + <p> + “Joined up!” echoed his father. “Barry, you have + enlisted! Thank God, my boy. I feared—I thought—No, damned if + I did!” he added, with such an unusual burst of passion that Barry + could only gaze at him with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, my boy,” he said, coming forward with + outstretched hand. “For a moment I confess I thought—” + Again he paused, apparently unable to continue. + </p> + <p> + “You thought, dad,” cried Barry, “and—forgive me, + dad—I thought too. I ought to have known you better.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, you, my son.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands with each other in an ecstasy of jubilation. + </p> + <p> + “My God, I'm glad that's through,” said the older + man. “We were both fools, Barry, but thank God that horror is past. + Now tell me all about everything—your trip, your plans. Let's + have a good talk as we always do.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on then, dad,” cried Barry. “Let's have an + eat first. By Jove, I feel a thousand years younger. I go to the M. O. + to-morrow for an examination.” + </p> + <p> + “He is quite unusually severe in his interpretation of the + regulations, I understand,” said his father. “He is turning + men down right and left. He knows, of course, that there are plenty to + choose from. But there is no fear of your fitness, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said Barry, with a gay laugh. + </p> + <p> + Never had they spent a happier evening together. True, the spectre of war + would thrust itself upon them, but they faced it as men—with a full + appreciation of its solemn reality, but without fear, and with a quiet + determination to make whatever sacrifice might be demanded of them. The + perfect understanding that had always marked their intercourse with each + other was restored. The intolerable burden of mutual uncertainty in regard + to each other's attitude toward the war was lifted. All shadows that + lay between them were gone. Nothing else really mattered. + </p> + <p> + The day following, Barry received a rude shock. The M. O., after an + examination, to his amazement and dismay, pronounced him physically unfit + for service. + </p> + <p> + “And why, pray?” cried his father indignantly, when Barry + announced the astounding report. “Is the man a fool? I understood + that he was strict. But you! unfit! It is preposterous. Unfit! how?” + </p> + <p> + “Heart murmur,” said Barry. “Sets it down to asthma. You + remember I told you I had a rotten attack after my experience last week in + the river. He suggested that I apply for a position in an ambulance corps, + and he is giving me a letter to Colonel Sidleigh at Edmonton. I am going + to-morrow to Edmonton to see Sidleigh, and besides I have some church + business to attend to. I must call upon my superintendent. You remember I + made an application to him for another mission field.” + </p> + <p> + He found Colonel Sidleigh courteously willing to accept his application, + the answer to which, he was informed, he might expect in a fortnight; and + so went with a comparatively light heart to his interview with his + superintendent. + </p> + <p> + The interview, however, turned out not entirely as he had expected. He + went with an idea of surrendering his appointment. His superintendent made + him an offer of another and greater. + </p> + <p> + “So they turned you down,” said the superintendent. “Well, + I consider it most providential. You have applied for a position on the + ambulance corps. As fine as is that service, and as splendid as are its + possibilities, I offer you something much finer, and I will even say much + more important to our army and to our cause. We are in need of men for the + Chaplain Service, and for this service we demand the picked men of our + church. The appointments that have been made already are some of them most + unsuitable, some, I regret to say, scandalous. Let me tell you, sir, of an + experience in Winnipeg only last week. It was, my fortune to fall in with + the commanding officer of a Saskatchewan unit. I found him in a rage + against the church and all its officials. His chaplain had become so + hilarious at the mess that he was quite unable to carry on.” + </p> + <p> + “Hilarious?” inquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Hilarious, sir. Yes, plain drunk. Think of it. Think of the crime! + the shame of it! A man charged with the responsibility of the souls of + these men going to war—possibly to their death—drunk, in their + presence! A man standing for God and the great eternal verities, + incapacitated before them! I took the matter up with Ottawa, and I have + this satisfaction at least, that I believe that no such appointment will + ever be made again. That chaplain, I may say too, has been dismissed. I + have here, sir, a mission field suitable to your ability and experience. I + shall not offer it to you. I am offering you the position of chaplain in + one of our Alberta battalions.” + </p> + <p> + Barry stood before him, dumb with dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I want to go to the war,” he said at length, + “but I am sure, sir, I am not the man for the position you offer me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the superintendent, “I have taken the + liberty of sending in your name. Time was an element. Appointments were + being rapidly made, and I was extremely anxious that you should go with + this battalion. I confess to a selfish interest. My own boy, Duncan, has + enlisted in that unit, and many of our finest young men with him. I + assumed the responsibility of asking for your appointment. I must urge you + solemnly to consider the matter before you decline.” + </p> + <p> + Eloquently Barry pleaded his unfitness, instancing his failure as a + preacher in his last field. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a preacher,” he protested. “I am not a 'mixer.' + They all say so. I shall be impossible as a chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” said the superintendent, a note of sternness in + his voice, “you know not what transformations in character this war + will work. Would I were twenty years younger,” he added + passionately, “twenty years sounder. Think of the opportunity to + stand for God among your men, to point them the way of duty, and fit them + for it, to bring them comfort, when they need comfort sorely, to bring + them peace, when they most need peace.” + </p> + <p> + Barry came away from the interview more disturbed than he had ever been in + his life. After he had returned to his hotel, a message from his + superintendent recalled him. + </p> + <p> + “I have a bit of work to do,” he said, “in which I need + your help. I wish you to join me in a visitation of some of the military + camps in this district. We start this evening.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for it but to obey his superintendent's orders. + The two weeks' experience with his chief gave Barry a new view and a + new estimate of the chaplain's work. As he came into closer touch + with camp life and its conditions, he began to see how great was the + soldier's need of such moral and spiritual support as a chaplain + might be able to render. He was exposed to subtle and powerful + temptations. He was deprived of the wonted restraints imposed by + convention, by environment, by family ties. The reactions from the + exhaustion of physical training, from the monotonous routine of military + discipline, from loneliness and homesickness were such as to call for that + warm, sympathetic, brotherly aid, and for the uplifting spiritual + inspiration that it is a chaplain's privilege to offer. But in + proportion as the service took on a nobler and loftier aspect, was Barry + conscious to a corresponding degree of his own unfitness for the work. + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the city, he found no definite information awaiting + him in regard to a place in the ambulance corps. He returned home in an + unhappy and uncertain frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + But under the drive of war, events were moving rapidly in Barry's + life. He arrived late in the afternoon, and proceeding to the military + H.Q., he found neither his father nor Captain Neil Fraser in the office. + </p> + <p> + “Gone out for the afternoon, sir,” was the word from the + orderly in charge. + </p> + <p> + Wandering about the village, he saw in a field at its outskirts, a squad + of recruits doing military evolutions and physical drill. As he drew near + he was arrested by the short, snappy tones of the N. C. O. in charge. + </p> + <p> + “That chap knows his job,” he said to himself, “and + looks like his job, too,” he added, as his eyes rested upon the + neat, upright, soldier-like figure. + </p> + <p> + Captain Neil he found observing the drill from a distance. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” he called out to Barry, as the + latter came within hailing distance. “What do you think of my + sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” replied Barry. “Where did you get him?” + </p> + <p> + “What? Look at him!” + </p> + <p> + “I am. Pretty natty sergeant he makes, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's go out there, and I'll introduce him.” + </p> + <p> + As they crossed the parade ground, the sergeant dropped his military tone + and proceeded to explain in his ordinary voice some details in connection + with the drill. Barry, catching the sound of his voice, stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean it, Captain Neil! Not dad, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody else,” said Captain Neil. “Wait a minute. Wait + and let's watch him at his work.” + </p> + <p> + For some time they stood observing the work of the new sergeant. Barry was + filled with amazement and delight. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of him?” inquired Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + But Barry made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “My company sergeant major got drunk,” continued Captain Neil. + “I had no one to take the drill. I asked your father to take it. He + nearly swept us off our feet. In consequence, there he stands, my company + sergeant major, and let me tell you, he will be the regimental sergeant + major before many weeks have passed, or I'm a German.” + </p> + <p> + “But his age,” inquired Barry, still in a maze of + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right. You don't want them too young. I + assured the authorities that he was of proper military age, telling them, + at the same time, that I must have him. He's a wonder, and the men + just adore him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder at that,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + Together they moved over to the squad. The sergeant, observing his + officer, called his men smartly to attention, and greeted the captain with + a very snappy salute. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant major, let me introduce you to my friend, Mr. Barry + Dunbar,” said Captain Neil with a grin. + </p> + <p> + “I say, dad,” said Barry, still unable to associate his father + with this N. C. O. in uniform who stood before him. “I say, dad, + where did you get all that military stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very rusty, my boy, very rusty! I hope to brush up, + though. The men are improving, I think, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure of it,” said Captain Neil. “How is that + wild man from Athabasca doing?” + </p> + <p> + “He is finding it hard work, sir, I'm afraid. He finds it + difficult to connect up this drill business with the business of war. He + wants to go right off and kill Germans. But he is making an effort to put + up with me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, with him, eh, sergeant major? But turn them loose. They + have done enough for to-day, and I know your son wants to take you off + with him, and get you to explain how you go into the army.” + </p> + <p> + The explanation came as they were walking home together. + </p> + <p> + “You see, boy, I felt keenly your disappointment in being rejected + from the fighting forces of the country. I felt too that our family ought + to be represented in the fighting line, so when Captain Fraser found + himself in need of a drill sergeant, I could hardly refuse. I would have + liked to have consulted you, my boy, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, dad; you did perfectly right. It was just fine of you. + I'm as proud as Punch. I only wish I could go with you. I'd + like to be in your squad. But never mind, I've two jobs open to me + now, and I sorely need your advice.” + </p> + <p> + Together they talked over the superintendent's offer of the position + of chaplain. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see myself a chaplain, dad. The position calls for an + older man, a man of wider experience. Many of these men would be almost + twice my age. Now the superintendent himself would be the man for the job. + You ought to see him at his work with the soldiers. I really can't + think I'm fit.” + </p> + <p> + In this opinion his father rather concurred. + </p> + <p> + “An older man would be better, Barry—a man of more experience + would be of more service, and, yet I don't know. One thing I am sure + of, if you accept the position, I believe you will fill it worthily. After + all, in every department, this war is a young man's job.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Barry. “If I went as chaplain, it + would be in your unit, dad, and that would be altogether glorious.” + </p> + <p> + “I do hope so. But we must not allow that, however, to influence our + decision,” replied his father. + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know!” hurriedly agreed Barry. “I trust I + would not be unduly influenced by personal considerations.” + </p> + <p> + This hope, however, was rudely dashed by an unexpected call for a draft of + recruits from Captain Neil's company that came through from Colonel + Kavanagh to replace a draft suddenly dispatched to make up to strength + another western regiment. Attached to the call there was a specific + request, which amounted to a demand for the sergeant major, for whose + special qualifications as physical and military instructor there was + apparently serious need in Colonel Kavanagh's regiment. + </p> + <p> + With great reluctance, and with the expenditure of considerable profanity, + Captain Neil Fraser dispatched his draft and agreed to the surrender of + his sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + The change came as a shock to both Barry and his father. For some days + they had indulged the hope that they would both be attached to the same + military unit, and unconsciously this had been weighing with Barry in his + consideration of his probable appointment as chaplain. + </p> + <p> + The disappointment of their hope was the more bitter when it was announced + that Colonel Kavanagh's battalion was warned for immediate service + overseas, and the further announcement that in all probability the new + battalion, to which the Wapiti company would be attached, might not be + dispatched until some time in the spring. + </p> + <p> + “But you may catch us up in England, Barry,” said his father, + when Barry was deploring their ill luck. “No one knows what our + movements will be. I do wish, however, that your position were definitely + settled.” + </p> + <p> + The decision in this matter came quickly, and was, without his will or + desire, materially hastened by Barry himself. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Kavanagh's battalion being under orders to depart within ten + days, a final Church Parade was ordered, at which only soldiers and their + kin were permitted to be present. The preacher for the day falling ill + from an overweight of war work, and Barry being in the city with nothing + to do, the duty of preaching at this Parade Service was suddenly thrust + upon him. + </p> + <p> + To his own amazement and to that of his father, Barry accepted without any + fear or hesitation this duty which in other circumstances would have + overwhelmed him with dismay. But to Barry the occasion was of such + surpassing magnitude and importance that all personal considerations were + obliterated. + </p> + <p> + The war, with its horrors, its losses, its overwhelming sacrifice, its + vast and eternal issues, was the single fact that filled his mind. It was + this that delivered him from that nervous self-consciousness, the preacher's + curse, that paralyses the mental activities, chills the passions, and + cloggs the imagination, so that his sermon becomes a lifeless repetition + of words, previously prepared, correct, even beautiful, it may be in form, + logical in argument, sound in philosophy, but dead, dull and impotent, + bereft of the fire that kindles the powers of the soul, the emotion that + urges to action, the imagination that lures to high endeavour. + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye + present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which + is your reasonable service.” + </p> + <p> + The voice, clear, vibrant, melodious, arrested with its first word the + eyes and hearts of his hearers, and so held them to the end. With the + earnest voice there was the fascination of a face alight with a noble + beauty, eyes glowing as with lambent flame. + </p> + <p> + A second time he read the appealing words, then paused and allowed his + eyes to wander quietly over the congregation. They represented to him in + that hour the manhood and womanhood of his country. Sincerely, with no + attempt at rhetoric and with no employment of any of its tricks, he began + his sermon. + </p> + <p> + “This war,” he said, “is a conflict of ideals eternally + opposed. Our ambitious and ruthless enemy has made the issue and has + determined the method of settlement. It is a war of souls, but the method + of settlement is not that of reason but that of force—a force that + finds expression through your bodies. Therefore the appeal of the Apostle + Paul, this old-world hero, to the men of his time reaches down to us in + this day, and at this crisis of the world's history. Offer your + bodies—these living bodies—these sacred bodies—offer + them in sacrifice to God.” + </p> + <p> + There was little discussion of the causes of the war. What need? They knew + that this war was neither of their desiring nor of their making. There was + no attempt to incite hatred or revenge. There was little reference to the + horrors of war, to its griefs, its dreadful agonies, its irreparable + losses. + </p> + <p> + From the first word he lifted his audience to the high plane of sacrament + and sacrifice. They were called upon to offer upon the altar of the world's + freedom all that they held dear in life—yea, life itself! It was the + ancient sacrifice that the noblest of the race had always been called upon + to make. In giving themselves to this cause they were giving themselves to + their country. They were offering themselves to God. In simple diction, + and in clear flowing speech, the sermon proceeded without pause or + stumbling to the end. The preacher closed with an appeal to the soldiers + present to make this sacrifice of theirs at once worthy and complete. + These bodies of theirs were sacred and were devoted to this cause. It was + their duty to keep them clean and fit. + </p> + <p> + For a few brief moments, he turned to the others present at the service—the + fathers, mothers, wives and sweethearts of the soldiers, and reminded them + in tones thrilling with tenderness and sympathy that though not privileged + to share in the soldiers' service in the front lines, none the less + might they share in this sacrifice, by patient endurance of the separation + and loss, by a cheerful submission to trial, and by continual remembrance + in prayer to Almighty God of the sacred cause and its defenders they might + help to bring this cause to victory. + </p> + <p> + In the brief prayer that followed the sermon, in words tender, simple, + heart-moving, he led the people in solemn dedication of themselves, soul + and body, to their country, to their cause, to their God. + </p> + <p> + The effect of the sermon and prayer was overpowering. There were no tears, + but men walked out with heads more erect, because of the exaltation of + spirit which was theirs. And women, fearful of the coming hour of parting, + felt their hearts grow strong within them with the thought that they were + voluntarily sending their men away. Upon the whole congregation lay a new + and solemn sense of duty, a new and uplifting sense of privilege in making + the sacrifice of all that they counted precious for this holy cause. + </p> + <p> + It was the sermon that brought the decision in the matter of Barry's + appointment. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that, Colonel Kavanagh?” asked Captain + Neil Fraser, who came in for the service. + </p> + <p> + “A very fine sermon! A very notable sermon!” said the colonel. + “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “He is my own minister,” said Captain Neil, “and he gave + me, to-day, the surprise of my life. I didn't know it was in him. I + understand there is a chance of his being our chaplain. He is Sergeant + Dunbar's son.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to Heaven we could take him with us! What about it, Fraser? + We've got the father, why not the son, too? They'd both like + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, Colonel, for Heaven's sake, have a heart. I hated to + surrender my company sergeant major. I don't think I ought to be + asked to surrender our chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Fraser, so be it. But you have got a wonderful chaplain + in that boy. What a face! What a voice! And that's the kind of a + spirit we want in our men.” + </p> + <p> + That very afternoon, Captain Neil went straight away to Colonel Leighton, + the officer commanding the new regiment to which Captain Neil's + company belonged. To the colonel he gave an enthusiastic report of the + sermon, with Colonel Kavanagh's judgment thereon. + </p> + <p> + “I would suggest, sir, that you wire Ottawa on the matter,” he + urged. “If Colonel Kavanagh thought he had a chance, he would not + hesitate. We really ought to get this fixed. I assure you he's a + find.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to it, then, Fraser. I'm rather interested to see your + earnest desire for a chaplain. The Lord knows you need one! Go up to + Headquarters and use my name. Say what you like.” + </p> + <p> + Thus it came that the following day Barry was informed by wire of his + appointment as chaplain of the new regiment of Alberta rangers. + </p> + <p> + “It's at least a relief to have the matter settled,” + said his father, to whom Barry brought his wire. “Barry, I'm + glad of the opportunity to tell you that since yesterday, my mind has + undergone considerable change. I am not sure but that you have found your + place and your work in the war.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dad,” answered Barry, “I wasn't responsible + for that sermon yesterday. The war was very near and very real to me. + Those boys were looking up at me, and you were there, dad. You drew that + sermon stuff out of me.” + </p> + <p> + “If once, why not again? At any rate, it greatly rejoiced me to know + that it was there in you. I don't say I was proud of you, my boy. I + was proud of you, but that is not the word that I should like to use. I + was profoundly grateful that I was privileged to hear a sermon like that + from a son of mine. Now, Barry,” continued his father, “this + is our last day together for some months, perhaps forever,” he added + in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, daddy, don't,” cried Barry, “I can't + bear to think of that to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Barry, but why not? It is really far better that we + should face all the possibilities. But now that we have this day—and + what a perfect day it is—for our last day together, what shall we do + with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I know, dad—I think you would wish that we take our ride into + the foothills to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “It was in my mind, my boy. I hesitated to suggest it. So let us go.” + </p> + <p> + It was one of those rare November days that only Alberta knows, mellow + with the warm sun, and yet with a nip in it that suggested the coming + frost, without a ripple of the wind that almost constantly sweeps the + Alberta ranges. In the blue sky hung motionless, like white ships at sea, + bits of cloud. The long grass, brown, yellow and green in a hundred + shades, lay like a carpet over the rolling hills and wide spreading + valleys, reaching up on every side to the horizon, except toward the west, + where it faded into the blue of the foothills at the bases of the mighty + Rockies. + </p> + <p> + Up the long trail, resilient to their horses' feet, they cantered + where the going was good, or picked their way with slow and careful tread + where the rocky ridges jutted through the black soil. + </p> + <p> + They made no effort to repulse the thought that this was their last day + together, nor did they seek to banish the fact of the war. With calm + courage and hope they faced the facts of their environment, seeking to aid + each other in readjusting their lives to those facts. They were resolutely + cheerful. The day was not to be spoiled with tears and lamentations. + Already each in his own place and time had made his sacrifice of a + comradeship that was far dearer than life. The agony of that hour, each + had borne in silence and alone. No shadow should fall across this sunny + day. + </p> + <p> + By the side of the grave, in its little palisaded enclosure, they + lingered, the father recalling the days of his earlier manhood, which had + been brightened by a love whose fragrance he had cherished and shared with + his son through their years together, Barry listening with reverent + attention and tender sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “I had always planned that I too should be laid here, Barry,” + said his father, as they prepared to take their departure, “but do + you know, boy, this war has made many changes in me and this is one. It + seems to me a very little thing where my body lies, if it be offered, as + you were saying so beautifully yesterday, in sacrifice to our cause.” + </p> + <p> + Barry could only nod his head in reply. He was deeply moved. + </p> + <p> + “You are young, Barry,” said his father, noting his emotion, + “and life is very dear to you, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dad, no! Not life,” said Barry brokenly. “Not life, + only you, dad. I just want you, and, oh dad!” continued the boy, + losing hold of himself and making no effort to check or hide the tears + that ran down his face, “if one of us is to go in this war,—as + is likely enough,—I only want that the other should be there at the + time. It would be—terribly—lonely—dad—to go out + myself—without you. Or to have you go out—alone.—We have + always been together—and you have been—so very good to me, + dad. I can't help this, dad,—I try—but I am not strong + enough—I'm not holding back from the sacrifice, dad,” + hurrying his words,—“No, no, not that, but perhaps you + understand.” + </p> + <p> + For answer, his father put both his arms around his son, drew his head + down to his breast, as if he had been a child. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, laddie,” he said, patting him on the shoulder, + “I know, I know! Oh God, how I know. We have lived together very + closely, without a shadow ever between us, and my prayer, since this war + began, has been that in death, if it had to be, we might be together, and, + Barry, somehow I believe God will give us that.” + </p> + <p> + “Good old dad, good old boy! What a brick you are! I couldn't + help that, dad. Forgive me for being a baby, and spoiling the day—” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you, boy,” still with his arms around his son, + “Barry, I love you for it. You've never brought me one sorrow + nor will you. To-day and every day I thank God for you, my son.” + </p> + <p> + They rode back through the evening toward the camp. By the time they + arrived there, the sun had sunk behind the mountains, and the quiet stars + were riding serenely above the broken, floating clouds, and in their + hearts was peace. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + A QUESTION OF NERVE + </h3> + <p> + “Gentlemen, may I introduce Captain Dunbar, your sky-pilot, padre, + chaplain, anything you like? They say he's a devil of a good + preacher. The Lord knows you need one.” + </p> + <p> + So Barry's commanding officer introduced him to the mess. + </p> + <p> + He bowed in different directions to the group of officers who, in the + ante-room of the mess, were having a pre-prandial cocktail. Barry found a + place near the foot of the table and for a few minutes sat silent, getting + his bearings. + </p> + <p> + Some of the officers were known to him. He had met the commanding officer, + Colonel Leighton, a typical, burly Englishman, the owner of an Alberta + horse ranch, who, well to do to begin with, had made money during his five + years in the country. He had the reputation of being a sporting man, of + easy morality, fond of his glass and of good living. He owed his present + position, partly to political influence, and partly to his previous + military experience in the South African war. His popularity with his + officers was due largely to his easy discipline, and to the absence of + that rigidity of manner which is supposed to go with high military + command, and which civilians are wont to find so irksome. + </p> + <p> + Barry had also met Major Bustead, the Senior Major of the Battalion, and + President of the mess, an eastern Canadian, with no military experience + whatever, but with abounding energy and ambition; the close friend and + boon companion of Colonel Leighton, he naturally had become his second in + command. Barry was especially delighted to observe Major Bayne, whom he + had not seen since his first meeting with him some months ago on the Red + Pine Trail. Captain Neil Fraser and Lieutenant Stewart Duff were the only + officers about the table whom he recognised, except that, among the junior + lieutenants, he caught the face of young Duncan Cameron, the oldest son of + his superintendent, and a fine, clean-looking young fellow he appeared. + </p> + <p> + Altogether Barry was strongly attracted by the clean, strong faces about + him. He would surely soon find good friends among them, and he only hoped + he might be able to be of some service to them. + </p> + <p> + The young fellow on his right introduced himself as Captain Hopeton. He + was a young English public school boy, who, though a failure as a rancher, + had proved an immense success in the social circles of the city. Because + of this, and also of his family connections “at home,” he had + been appointed to a Civil Service position. A rather bored manner and a + supercilious air spoiled what would otherwise have been a handsome and + attractive face. + </p> + <p> + After a single remark about the “beastly bore” of military + duty, Hopeton ignored Barry, giving such attention as he had to spare from + his dinner to a man across the table, with whom, apparently, he had shared + some rather exciting social experiences in the city. + </p> + <p> + For the first half hour of the meal, the conversation was of the most + trivial nature, and was to Barry supremely uninteresting. “Shop talk” + was strictly taboo, and also all reference to the war. The thin stream of + conversation that trickled from lip to lip ran the gamut of sport, spiced + somewhat highly with society scandal which, even in that little city, + appeared to flourish. + </p> + <p> + To Barry it was as if he were in a strange land and among people of a + strange tongue. Of sport, as understood by these young chaps, he knew + little, and of scandal he was entirely innocent; so much so that many of + the references that excited the most merriment were to him utterly + obscure. After some attempts to introduce topics of conversation which he + thought might be of mutual interest, but which had fallen quite flat, + Barry gave up, and sat silent with a desolating sense of loneliness + growing upon his spirit. + </p> + <p> + “After the port,” when smoking was permitted, he was offered a + cigarette by Hopeton, and surprised that young man mightily by saying that + he never smoked. This surprise, it is to be feared, deepened into disgust + when, a few moments later, he declined a drink from Hopeton's whisky + bottle, which a servant brought him. + </p> + <p> + Liquors were not provided at the mess, but officers were permitted to + order what they desired. + </p> + <p> + As the bottles circulated, tongues were loosened. There was nothing foul + in the talk, but more and more profanity, with frequent apology to the + chaplain, began to decorate the conversation. Conscious of a deepening + disgust with his environment, and of an overwhelming sense of isolation, + Barry cast vainly about for a means of escape. Of military etiquette he + was ignorant; hence he could only wait in deepening disgust for the O. C. + to give the signal to rise. How long he could have endured is doubtful, + but release came in a startling, and, to most of the members of the mess, + a truly horrifying manner. + </p> + <p> + In one of those strange silences that fall upon even the noisiest of + companies, Colonel Leighton, under the influence of a somewhat liberal + indulgence in his whisky bottle, began the relation of a tale of very + doubtful flavour. In the midst of the laughter that followed the tale, + Barry rose to his feet, his face white and his eyes aflame, and in a voice + vibrating with passion, said: + </p> + <p> + “May I be excused, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly,” said the colonel pleasantly, adding after a + moment's hesitation, “is there anything wrong, Dunbar? Are you + ill?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” Barry's voice had the resonant quality of a + cello string. “I mean, yes, sir,” he corrected. “I am + ill. The atmosphere surrounding such a tale is nauseating to me.” + </p> + <p> + In the horrified silence that followed his remark, he walked out from the + room. Upon his ears, as he stood in the ante-room, trembling with the + violence of his passion, a burst of laughter fell. A sudden wrath like a + hot flame swept his body. He wheeled in his tracks, tore open the door, + and with head high and face set, strode to his place at the table and sat + down. + </p> + <p> + Astonishment beyond all words held the company in tense stillness. From + Barry's face they looked toward the colonel, who, too dumfounded for + speech or action, sat gazing at his chaplain. Then from the end of the + table a few places down from Barry, a voice was heard. + </p> + <p> + “Feel better, Dunbar?” The cool, clear voice cut through the + tense silence like the zip of a sword. + </p> + <p> + “I do, thank you, sir,” looking him straight in the eye. + </p> + <p> + “The fresh air, doubtless,” continued the cool voice. “I + always find myself that even a whiff of fresh air is a very effective + antidote for threatening vertigo. I remember once—” continued + the speaker, dropping into a conversational tone, and leaning across the + table slightly toward Barry, “I was in the room with a company of + men—” And the speaker entered upon a long and none too + interesting relation of an experience of his, the point of which no one + grasped, but the effect of which every one welcomed with the profoundest + relief. He was the regimental medical officer, a tall, slight man, with a + keen eye, a pleasant face crowned by a topknot of flaming hair, and with a + little dab of hair of like colour upon his upper lip, which he fondly + cherished, as an important item in his military equipment. + </p> + <p> + “Say, the old doc is a lifesaver, sure enough,” said a young + subaltern, answering to the name of “Sally,” colloquial for + Salford, as he stood amid a circle of officers gathered in the smoking + room a few minutes later. “A lifesaver,” repeated Sally, with + emphasis. “He can have me for his laboratory collection after I'm + through.” + </p> + <p> + “He is one sure singing bird,” said another sub, a stout, + overgrown boy by the name of Booth. “The nerve of him,” added + Booth in admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Nerve!” echoed a young captain, “but what about the + pilot's nerve?” + </p> + <p> + “Sui generis, Train, I should say,” drawled Hopeton. + </p> + <p> + “Suey, who did you say?” inquired Sally. “What's + her second name? But let me tell you I could have fallen on his neck and + burst into tears of gratitude. For me,” continued Sally, glancing + about the room, “I don't hold with that dirt stuff at mess. It + isn't necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Beastly bad form,” said Hopeton, “but, good Lord! Your + Commanding Officer, Sally! There's such a thing as discipline, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “What extraordinary thing is it that Sally knows?” inquired + Major Bustead, who lounged up to the group. + </p> + <p> + “We were discussing the padre's break, Major, which for my + part,” drawled Hopeton, “I consider rotten discipline.” + </p> + <p> + “Discipline!” snorted the major. “By Gad, it was a piece + of the most damnable cheek I have ever heard at a mess table. He ought to + be sent to Coventry. I only hope the O. C. will get him exchanged.” + </p> + <p> + The major made no effort to subdue his voice, which was plainly audible + throughout the room. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, for God's sake,” warned Captain Train, as Barry + entered the door. “Here he is.” + </p> + <p> + But Barry had caught the major's words. For a moment he stood + irresolute; then walked quietly toward the group. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't help hearing you, Major Bustead,” he said, + in a voice pleasant and under perfect control. “I gather you were + referring to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I was, sir,” said the major defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “And why should I be sent to Coventry, or exchanged, may I ask?” + Barry's voice was that of an interested outsider. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” stuttered the Major, “I consider, sir, that—that—you + have been guilty of a piece of damnable impertinence toward your + Commanding Officer. I never heard anything like it in my life. Infernal + cheek, I call it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + While the major was speaking, Barry stood listening with an air of + respectful attention. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder!” he said, after a moment's thought. “If + I thought I had been impertinent, I should at once apologise. But, sir, do + you think it is part of my duty to allow any man, even my Commanding + Officer, to—pardon the disgusting metaphor, it is not so disgusting + as the action complained of—to spit in my soup, and take it without + protest? Do you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I—you—” The major grew very red in the face. + “You need to learn your place in this battalion, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Barry, still preserving his quiet voice and + manner. “I want to learn—I am really anxious to learn it. Do + you mind answering my question?” His tone was that of a man who is + earnestly but quite respectfully seeking information from a superior + officer. + </p> + <p> + “Your question, sir?” stuttered the major, “your—your—question. + Damn your question, and yourself too.” + </p> + <p> + The major turned abruptly away. Barry heard him quite unmoved, stood + looking after him in silence a moment or two, then, shaking his head, with + a puzzled expression on his face, moved slowly away from the group. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my aunt Caroline,” breathed Sally into his friend Hopeton's + ear, resting heavily meanwhile against his shoulder. “What a score! + What a score!” + </p> + <p> + “A bull, begad! a clean bull!” murmured Hopeton, supporting + his friend out of the room as he added, “A little fresh air, as a + preventative of vertigo, as the old doc says, eh, Sally.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, is he just a plain ass, or what?” inquired young + Booth, his eye following Barry down the room. + </p> + <p> + “Ass! A mule, I should say. And one with a good lot of kick in him,” + replied Captain Train. “I don't know that I care for that kind + of an animal, though.” + </p> + <p> + Before many hours had passed, the whole battalion had received with + undiluted joy an account of the incident, for though the Commanding + Officer was popular with his men, to have him called down at his own mess + by one of his own officers was an event too thrilling to give anything but + unalloyed delight to those who had to suffer in silence similar + indignities at the hands of their officers. + </p> + <p> + A notable exception in the battalion, however, was Sergeant Major + McFetteridge, who, because of his military experience, and of his + reputation as a disciplinarian, had been recently transferred to the + battalion. To the sergeant major this act of Barry's was but another + and more flagrant example of his fondness for “buttin' in,” + and the sergeant major let it be known that he strongly condemned the + chaplain for what he declared was an unheard of breach of military + discipline. + </p> + <p> + Of course there were others who openly approved, and who admired the + chaplain's “nerve in standing up to the old man.” In + their opinion he was entirely justified in what he had said. The O. C. had + insulted him, and every officer at the mess, by his off-colour story, but + on the whole the general result of the incident was that Barry's + life became more and more one of isolation from both officers and men. For + this reason and because of a haunting sense of failure the months of + training preceding the battalion's departure for England were for + Barry one long and almost uninterrupted misery. It seemed impossible to + establish any point of contact with either the officers or the men. In + their athletics, in their social gatherings, in their reading, he was + quietly ignored and made to feel that he was in no way necessary. An + impalpable but very real barrier prevented his near approach to those whom + he was so eager to serve. + </p> + <p> + This unexpressed opposition was quickened into active hostility by the + chaplain's uncompromising attitude on the liquor question. By the + army regulations, the battalion canteen was dry, but in spite of this + many, both of the officers and the men, freely indulged in the use of + intoxicating drink. The effect upon discipline was, of course, deplorable, + and in his public addresses as well as private conversation, Barry + constantly denounced these demoralising habits, winning thereby the + violent dislike of those especially affected, and the latent hostility of + the majority of the men who agreed with the sergeant major in resenting + the chaplain's “buttin' in.” + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, with unspeakable joy that Barry learned that the + battalion was warned for overseas service. Any change in his lot would be + an improvement, for he was convinced that he had reached the limit of + wretchedness in the exercise of his duty as chaplain of the battalion. + </p> + <p> + In this conviction, however, he was mistaken. On shipboard, he discovered + that there were still depths of misery which he was called upon to plumb. + Assigned to a miserable stateroom in an uncomfortable part of the ship, he + suffered horribly from seasickness, and for the first half of the voyage + lay foodless and spiritless in his bunk, indifferent to his environment or + to his fate. His sole friend was his batman, Harry Hobbs, but, of course, + he could not confide to Harry the misery of his body, or the deeper misery + of his soul. + </p> + <p> + It was Harry, however, that brought relief, for it was he that called the + M. O. to his officer's bedside. The M. O. was shocked to find the + chaplain in a state of extreme physical weakness, and mental depression. + At once, he gave orders that Barry should be removed to his own stateroom, + which was large and airy and open to the sea breezes. The effect was + immediately apparent, for the change of room, and more especially the + touch of human sympathy, did much to restore Barry to his normal health + and spirits. A friendship sprang up between the M. O. and the chaplain. + With this friendship a new interest came into Barry's life, and with + surprising rapidity he regained both his physical and mental tone. + </p> + <p> + The doctor took him resolutely in hand, pressed him to take his part in + the daily physical drill, induced him to share the daily programme of + sports, and, best of all, discovering a violin on board, insisted on his + taking a place on the musical programme rendered nightly in the salon. As + might be expected, his violin won him friends among all of the music + lovers on board ship, and life for Barry began once more to be bearable. + </p> + <p> + Returning strength, however, recalled him to the performance of his duties + as chaplain, and straightway in the exercise of what he considered his + duty, he came into conflict with no less a personage than the sergeant + major himself. The trouble arose over his batman, Harry Hobbs. + </p> + <p> + Harry was a man who, in his youthful days, had been a diligent patron of + the London music halls, and in consequence had become himself an amateur + entertainer of very considerable ability. His sailor's hornpipes, + Irish jigs, his old English North-country ballads and his coster songs + were an unending joy to his comrades. Their gratitude and admiration took + forms that proved poor Harry's undoing, and besides some of them + took an unholy joy in sending the chaplain's batman to his officer + incapable of service. + </p> + <p> + Barry's indignation and grief were beyond words. He dealt faithfully + with the erring Hobbs, as his minister, as his officer, as chaplain, but + the downward drag of his environment proved too great for his batman's + powers of resistance. Once and again Barry sought the aid of the sergeant + major to rescue Harry from his downward course, but the old sergeant major + was unimpressed with the account of Harry's lapses. + </p> + <p> + “Is your batman unfit for duty, sir?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is, often,” said Barry indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Did you report him, sir?” inquired the sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + “No, I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, I am afraid that until you do your duty I can do + nothing,” answered the sergeant major, with suave respect. + </p> + <p> + “If you did your duty,” Barry was moved to say, “then + Hobbs would not need to be reported. The regulations governing that + canteen should prevent these frequent examples of drunkenness, which are a + disgrace to the battalion.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand, sir,” inquired the sergeant major, with + quiet respect, “that you are accusing me of a failure in duty?” + </p> + <p> + “I am saying that if the regulations were observed my batman and + others would not be so frequently drunk, and the enforcing of these + regulations, I understand, is a part of your duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir,” replied the sergeant major, “perhaps I had + better report myself to the Commanding Officer.” + </p> + <p> + “You can please yourself,” said Barry, shortly, as he turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir,” replied the sergeant major. “I shall + report myself at once.” + </p> + <p> + The day following, the chaplain received an order to appear before the O. + C. in the orderly room. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar, I understand that you are making a charge against + Sergeant Major McFetteridge,” was Colonel Leighton's greeting. + </p> + <p> + “I am making no charge against any one, sir,” replied Barry + quietly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that, Sergeant Major McFetteridge?” + </p> + <p> + In reply, the sergeant major gave a full and fair statement of the passage + between the chaplain and himself the day before. + </p> + <p> + “Is this correct, Captain Dunbar?” asked the O. C. + </p> + <p> + “Substantially correct, sir, except that the sergeant major is here + on his own suggestion, and on no order of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I understand that you withdraw your charge against the + sergeant major.” + </p> + <p> + “I withdraw nothing, sir. I had no intention of laying a charge, and + I have laid no charge against the sergeant major; but at the same time I + have no hesitation in saying that the regulations governing the canteen + are not observed, and, as I understand that the responsibility for + enforcing these regulations is in the sergeant major's hands, in + that sense I consider that he has failed in his duty.” + </p> + <p> + But the sergeant major was too old a soldier to be caught napping. He had + his witnesses ready at hand to testify that the canteen was conducted + according to regulations, and that if the chaplain's batman or any + others took more liquor than they should, neither the corporal in charge + of the canteen nor the sergeant major was to be blamed. + </p> + <p> + “All I can say, sir,” replied Barry, “is that soldiers + are frequently drunk on this ship, and I myself have seen them when the + worse for liquor going into the canteen.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you report these men to their officers or to me, Captain + Dunbar, or did you report the corporal in charge of the canteen?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then sir, do you know that you have been guilty of serious neglect + of duty?” said the colonel sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand, sir, that it is my duty to report to you every man + I see the worse for liquor on this ship?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly,” replied the colonel, emphatically. “Every + breach of discipline must be reported.” + </p> + <p> + “I understood, sir, that an officer had a certain amount of + discretion in a matter of this kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get that notion?” inquired the colonel. “Let + me tell you that you are wrong. Discretionary powers lie solely with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, I am to understand that I must report every man whom I + see the worse for liquor?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And every officer, as well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + The colonel hesitated a moment, fumbled with his papers, and then blurted + out: + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir. And let me say, Captain Dunbar, that an officer, + especially an officer in your position, ought to be very careful in making + a charge against a N. C. O., more particularly the sergeant major of his + battalion. Nothing is more calculated to drag down discipline. The case is + dismissed.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Barry, maintaining his place before the table. + “May I ask one question?” + </p> + <p> + “The case is dismissed, Captain Dunbar. What do you want?” + asked the colonel brusquely. + </p> + <p> + “I want to be quite clear as to my duty, in the future, sir. Do I + understand that if any man or officer is found under the influence of + liquor, anywhere in this ship, and at any hour of the day or night, he is + to be reported at once to the orderly room, even though that officer + should be, say, even the adjutant or yourself?” Barry said, gazing + up at the colonel with a face in which earnestness and candour were + equally blended. + </p> + <p> + The colonel gazed back at him with a face in which rage and perplexity + were equally apparent. For some moments, he was speechless, while the + whole orderly room held its breath. + </p> + <p> + “I mean—that you—you understand—of course,” + stuttered the colonel, “that an officer must use common sense. He + must be damned sure of what he says, in other words,” said the + colonel, rushing his speech. + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,” continued Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to the devil, sir,” roared the colonel. “The + case is dismissed.” + </p> + <p> + Barry saluted and left the room. + </p> + <p> + “Is the man an infernal and condemned fool, or what is the matter + with him?” exclaimed the colonel, turning to his adjutant in a + helpless appeal, while the orderly room struggled with its grins. + </p> + <p> + “The devil only knows,” said Major Bustead. “He beats + me. He is an interfering and impertinent ass, in my opinion, but what else + he is, I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + It is fair to say that the sergeant major bore the chaplain no grudge for + his part in the affair. The whole battalion, however, soon became + possessed of the tale, adorned and expanded to an unrecognisable extent, + and revelled in ecstasy over the discomfort of the C. O. The consensus of + opinion was that on the whole the sergeant major had come off with premier + honours, and as between the “old man” and the “Sky + Pilot,” as Barry was coming to be called, it was about an even + break. As for the Pilot, he remained more than ever a mystery, and on the + whole, the battalion was inclined to leave him alone. + </p> + <p> + The chaplain, however, had partially, at least, achieved his aim, in that + the regulations governing the canteen were more strictly enforced, to the + vast improvement of discipline generally, and to the immense advantage of + Harry Hobbs in particular. + </p> + <p> + Soon after this, another event occurred which aided materially in bringing + about this same result, and which also led to a modification of opinion in + the battalion in regard to their chaplain. + </p> + <p> + To the civilian soldier the punctilio of military etiquette is frequently + not only a bore, but at times takes on the appearance of wilful insult + which no grown man should be expected to tolerate. To the civilian soldier + born and brought up in wide spaces of the far Northwest this is especially + the case. + </p> + <p> + It is not surprising, therefore, that McCuaig, fresh from his thirty-five + years of life in the Athabasca wilds, should find the routine of military + discipline extremely irksome and the niceties of military etiquette as + from a private to an officer not only foolish but degrading both to + officer and man. Under the patient shepherding of Barry's father, he + had endured much without protest or complaint, but, with the advent of + Sergeant Major McFetteridge, with his rigid military discipline and his + strict insistence upon etiquette, McCuaig passed into a new atmosphere. To + the freeborn and freebred recruit from the Athabasca plains, the stiff and + somewhat exaggerated military bearing of the sergeant major was at first a + source of quiet amusement, later of perplexity, and finally of annoyance. + For McFetteridge and his minutiae of military discipline McCuaig held only + contempt. To him, the whole business was a piece of silly nonsense + unworthy of serious men. + </p> + <p> + It was inevitable that the sergeant major should sooner or later discover + this opinion in Private McCuaig, and that he should consider the holding + of this opinion as a tendency toward insubordination. It was also + inevitable that the sergeant major should order a course of special + fatigues calculated to subdue the spirit of the insubordinate private. + </p> + <p> + It took McCuaig some days to discover that in these frequent fatigues and + special duties, he was undergoing punishment, but once made, the discovery + wrought in him a cold and silent rage, which drove him to an undue and + quite unwonted devotion to the canteen, which in turn transformed the + reserved, self-controlled man of the wilds into a demonstrative, + disorderly and quarrelsome “rookie” aching for trouble. + </p> + <p> + Under these circumstances, an outburst was inevitable. Corporal Ferry, in + charge of the canteen, furnished the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “No more for you, McCuaig. You've got more aboard now than you + can carry.” + </p> + <p> + To the injury of being denied another beer was added the insult of + suggesting his inability to carry what he had. This to a man of McCuaig's + experience in every bar and camp and roadhouse from Edmonton to the Arctic + circle, was not to be endured. + </p> + <p> + He leaned over the improvised bar, until his face almost touched the + corporal's. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he ejaculated, but in the single expletive there + darted out such concentrated fury, that the little corporal sprang back as + from a striking snake. + </p> + <p> + “You can't have any more beer, McCuaig,” said the + corporal, from a safe distance. + </p> + <p> + “Watch me, sonny!” replied McCuaig. + </p> + <p> + With a single sweep of his hand, he snatched two bottles from the ledge + behind the corporal's head. Holding one aloft, he knocked the top + off the other, drank its contents slowly and smashed the empty bottle at + the spot where the corporal's head had been; knocked the top off the + second bottle and was proceeding to drink it, in a more or less leisurely + fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Private Timms! Private Mulligan!” shouted Corporal Ferry, + reappearing from beneath the counter. “Arrest that man!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, sonny; give me a chance,” cried McCuaig, in a wild, + high, singsong voice. Lifting his bottle to his lips, he continued to + drink slowly, keeping his eye upon the two privates, who were considering + the best method of carrying out their orders. + </p> + <p> + “There, sonny, fill that up again,” cried McCuaig, + good-naturedly, when he had finished his drink, tossing the second bottle + at the head of the corporal, who, being on the alert, again made a + successful disappearance. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, boys, come on,” said McCuaig, backing toward the + wall, and dropping his hands to his hips. With a curse of disappointment + that he found himself without his usual weapons of defence, McCuaig raised + a shout, sprang into the air, cracked his heels together in a double rap, + and swinging his arms around his head, yelled: + </p> + <p> + “Come on, my boys! I'm hungry, I am! Meat! Meat! Meat!” + </p> + <p> + With each “meat,” his white teeth came together with a snap + like that of a hungry wolf. Such was the beastly ferocity in his face and + posture that both Private Timms and Private Mulligan, themselves men of + more than average strength, paused and looked at the corporal for further + orders. + </p> + <p> + “Arrest that man,” said the corporal again, preserving at the + same time an attitude that revealed a complete readiness for swift + disappearance. “Private McTavish,” he added, calling upon a + tall Highlander who was gazing with admiring eyes upon the raging McCuaig, + “assist Private Timms and Private Mulligan in arresting that man.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you come yourself, sonny?” inquired McCuaig. + With a swift sidestep and a swifter swoop of his long arm, he reached for + the corporal, who once more found safety in swift disappearance. + </p> + <p> + At that instant, the Highlander, seeing his opportunity, flung himself + upon McCuaig, and winding his arms around him, hung to him grimly, crying + out: + </p> + <p> + “Get hold of his legs! Queeck! Will you?” + </p> + <p> + When the sergeant major, attracted by the unwonted uproar, appeared upon + the scene, there was a man on every one of McQuaig's limbs, and + another one astride his stomach. “Heavin' like sawlogs shootin' + a rapid,” as Private Corbin, a lumberjack from the Eau Claire, was + later heard to remark. + </p> + <p> + “What is he like now?” inquired the colonel, after listening + to the sergeant major's report of the Homeric combat. + </p> + <p> + “He is in a compartment in the hold, sir, and raging like one + demented. He very nearly did for Major Bustead, smashing at him with a + scantling that he ripped from the ship's timbers, sir. He still has + the scantling, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him cool off all night,” said the Commanding Officer, + after consultation with the adjutant. + </p> + <p> + Barry, who with difficulty had restrained himself during the sergeant + major's report, slipped from the room, found the M. O., to whom he + detailed the story and dragged him off to visit the raging McCuaig. + </p> + <p> + They found a corporal on guard outside. + </p> + <p> + “I would not open the door, sir. He is really dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rot!” replied the M. O. “Open up the door!” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir,” said the corporal, “it is not safe. At + present, he is clean crazy. He is off his nut entirely.” + </p> + <p> + The M. O. stood listening at the door. From within came moaning sounds as + from a suffering beast. + </p> + <p> + “That man is suffering. Open the door!” ordered the M. O. + peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + The corporal, with great reluctance, unlocked the padlock, shot back the + bolt, and then stood away from the door. + </p> + <p> + “It is the medical officer, McCuaig,” said the doctor, opening + the door slightly. + </p> + <p> + Bang! Crash! came the scantling upon the door jamb, shattering it to + pieces. The whole guard flung themselves against the door, shoved it shut, + and shot the bolt. + </p> + <p> + “I warned you, sir,” said the panting corporal. “Better + leave him until morning. He's a regular devil!” + </p> + <p> + “He is no more a devil than you are, corporal,” said Barry, in + a loud, clear voice. “He is one of the best men in the battalion. + More than that, he is my friend, and if he spends the night there, I spend + it with him.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, and before any one could stop him, Barry shot back the bolt, + opened the door, and with his torchlight flashing before him, stepped + inside. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, McCuaig,” he called, in a quiet, clear voice, “where + are you? It's Dunbar, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He drew the door shut after him. The corporal was for following him, but + the M. O. interposed. + </p> + <p> + “Stop out!” he ordered. “Stay where you are! You have + done enough mischief already.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, he'll kill him!” + </p> + <p> + “This is my case,” said the M. O. sharply. “Fall back + all of you, out of sight!” + </p> + <p> + Together they stood listening in awestruck silence, expecting every moment + to hear sounds of conflict, and cries for help, but all they heard was the + cool, even flow of a quiet voice, and after some minutes had passed, the + sound of moans, mingled with a terrible sobbing. + </p> + <p> + The M. O., moving toward the corporal and his guard, said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Take your men down the passage and keep them there until I call for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” began the corporal. + </p> + <p> + “Will you obey my orders?” said the M. O. “I'm in + command here! Go!” + </p> + <p> + Without further words, the corporal moved his men away. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, the sergeant major, going his rounds, received a rude + shock. In the passage leading to McCuaig's compartment, he met four + men, bearing on a stretcher toward the sick bay a long silent form. + </p> + <p> + “Who have you got there, corporal?” he inquired in a tone of + kindly interest. + </p> + <p> + “McCuaig, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “McCuaig?” roared the sergeant major. “And who—” + </p> + <p> + “Medical officer's orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence there,” said a sharp voice in the rear. “Carry + on, men.” + </p> + <p> + And past the astonished sergeant major, the procession filed with the + medical officer and the chaplain at its tail end. + </p> + <p> + After the sergeant major had made his report to the O. C., as was his + duty, the M. O. was sent for. What took place at that interview was never + divulged to the mess, but it was known that whereas the conversation began + in very loud tones by the Officer Commanding, it ended half an hour later + with the M. O. being shown out of the room by the colonel himself, who was + heard to remark: + </p> + <p> + “A very fine bit of work. Tell him I want to see him when he has a + few minutes, and thank you, doctor, thank you!” + </p> + <p> + “Who does the old man want to see?” inquired Sally, who, with + Hopeton and Booth, happened to be passing. + </p> + <p> + “The chaplain,” snapped the M. O., going on his way. + </p> + <p> + “The chaplain? By Jove, he's a queer one, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The M. O. turned sharply back, and coming very close to Sally, said in a + wrathful voice: + </p> + <p> + “A queer one? Yes, a queer one! But if some of you damned young + idiots that sniff at him had just half his guts, you'd be twice the + men you are.—Shut up, Hopeton! Listen to me—” and in + words of fiery rage that ran close to tears, he recounted his experience + of the last hour. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! Doc, some guts, eh?” said Sally in a low tone, as he + moved away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + SUBMARINES, BULLPUPS, AND OTHER THINGS + </h3> + <p> + A long, weird blast from the fog horn, followed by two short, sharp toots, + recalled Barry from his morning dream. + </p> + <p> + “Fog,” he grumbled, and turned over to re-capture the + enchantment of the Athabasca rapids, and his dancing canoe. + </p> + <p> + Overhead there sounded the trampling of feet. + </p> + <p> + “Submarines, doc,” he shouted and leaped to the floor broad + awake. + </p> + <p> + “What's the row?” murmured the M. O., who was a heavy + sleeper. + </p> + <p> + For answer, Barry ripped the clothes from the doctor's bed. + </p> + <p> + “Submarines, doc,” he shouted again, and buckling on his Sam + Brown, and seizing his lifebelt, he stood ready to go. + </p> + <p> + “What! your boots off, doc?” + </p> + <p> + In the orders of the day before had been an announcement that officers and + men were to sleep fully dressed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the devil!” exclaimed the doctor, hunting through his + bedclothes in desperation. “I can't sleep in my boots. Where's + my tunic? Go on, old fellow, I'll follow you.” + </p> + <p> + Barry held his tunic for him. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are! Wake up, doc! And here's your Sam Brown.” + </p> + <p> + Barry dropped to lace the doctor's boots, while the latter was + buckling on the rest of his equipment. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” cried the doctor, rushing from the room and + leaving his lifebelt behind him. + </p> + <p> + Barry caught up the lifebelt and followed. + </p> + <p> + “Your lifebelt, doc,” he said, as they passed up the companion + way. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm a peach of a soldier,” said the doctor, + struggling into his lifebelt, and swearing deeply the while. + </p> + <p> + “Stop swearing, doc! It's a waste of energy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to hell!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I prefer Heaven, if I must leave this ship, but for the + present, I believe I'm needed here, and so are you, doc. Look there!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor glanced out upon the deck. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! You're right, old man, we are needed and badly. I + say, old chap,” he said, pausing for a moment to turn to Barry, + “you are a dear old thing, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + The deck was a mass of soldiers struggling, swearing, fighting their way + to their various stations. Officers, half dressed and half awake, were + rushing hither and thither, seeking their units, swearing at the men and + shouting meaningless orders. Over all the stentorian voice of the sergeant + major was vainly trying to make itself understood. + </p> + <p> + In the confusion the cry was raised: “We're torpedoed! We're + going down!” + </p> + <p> + There was a great rush for the nearest boats. Men flung discipline to the + winds and began fighting for a chance of their lives. It was a terrific + and humiliating scene. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, over the tumult, was heard a loud, ringing laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say, Duff! Not that way! Not that way!” + </p> + <p> + Again came the ringing laugh. + </p> + <p> + Immediately a silence fell upon the struggling crowd, and for a moment + they stood looking inquiringly at each other. That moment of silence was + seized by the sergeant major. Like a trumpet his sonorous voice rang out + steady and clear. + </p> + <p> + “Fall in, men! Boat quarters! Silence there!” + </p> + <p> + He followed this with sharp, intelligible commands to his N. C. O.'s. + Like magic, order fell upon the turbulent, struggling crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Stand steady, you there!” roared the sergeant major, who + having got control of his men, began to indulge himself in a few telling + and descriptive adjectives. + </p> + <p> + In less than two minutes, the men were standing steady as a rock and the + panic was passed. + </p> + <p> + “Who was it that laughed up there in that stampede?” inquired + the O. C., when the officers were gathered about him in the orderly room. + </p> + <p> + “I think it was the Sky Pilot, sir—the chaplain, sir,” + said Lieutenant Stewart Duff. + </p> + <p> + “Was it you that laughed, Captain Dunbar?” asked the colonel, + turning upon Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I did, sir. I'm sorry if—” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry!” exclaimed the colonel. “Dammit, sir, you saved + the situation for us all. Who told you it was a false alarm?” + </p> + <p> + “No one, sir. I didn't know it was a false alarm. I was + looking at Lieutenant Duff—” He checked himself promptly. + “I mean, sir—well, it seemed a good place to laugh, so I just + let it come.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel's eyes rested with curious inquiry upon the serene face + of the chaplain, with its glowing eyes and candid expression. “A + good place for a laugh? It was a damned good place for a laugh, and + gentlemen, I thank God I have one officer who finds in the face of sudden + danger a good place for a laugh. And now I have something to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + The O. C.'s remarks did not improve the officers' opinion of + themselves, and they slunk out of the room—no other word properly + describes the cowed and shamed appearance of that company of men—they + slunk out of the room. They had failed to play the part of British + officers in the face of sudden peril. + </p> + <p> + In his speech to the men, the C. O. made only a single reference to the + incident, but that reference bit deep. + </p> + <p> + “Men, I am thoroughly ashamed and disappointed. You acted, not like + soldiers, but like a herd of steers. The difference between a herd of + steers and a battalion of soldiers, in the face of sudden danger, is only + this:—the steers break blindly for God knows where, and end piled up + over a cut bank; soldiers stand steady listening for the word of command.” + </p> + <p> + If the O. C. handled the men with a light hand, the sergeant major did + not. His tongue rasped them to the raw. No one knows a soldier as does his + N. C. O., and no N. C. O. is qualified to set forth the soldier's + characteristics with the intimate knowledge and adequate fluency of the + sergeant major. One by one he peeled from their shivering souls the + various layers of their moral cuticle, until they stood, in their own and + in each other's eyes, objects of commiseration. + </p> + <p> + “There's just one thing more I wad like ta say to ye.” + The sergeant major's tendency to Doric was more noticeable in his + moments of deeper feeling, “but it's something for you lads to + give heed ta. When ye were scrammlin' up yonder, like a lot o' + mavericks at a brandin', and yowlin' like a bunch o' + coyotes, there was one man in the regiment who could laugh. There's + lots o' animals that the Almighty made can yowl, but there's + only one can laugh, and that's a mon. For God's sake, men, + when ye're in a tight place, try a laugh.” + </p> + <p> + For some weeks after this event the chaplain was known throughout the + battalion as “the man that can laugh,” and certain it is that + from that day there existed between the M. O. and the chaplain a new bond + of friendship. + </p> + <p> + As the ship advanced deeper into the submarine zone, the sole topic of + thought and of conversation came to be the convoy. Where was that convoy + anyway? While the daylight lasted, a thousand pairs of eyes swept the + horizon, and the intervening spaces of tossing, blue-grey water, for the + sight of a sinister periscope, or for the smudge of a friendly cruiser, + and when night fell, a thousand pairs of ears listened with strained + intentness for the impact of the deadly torpedo or for the signal of the + protecting convoy. + </p> + <p> + While still a day and a night out from land, Barry awoke in the dim light + of a misty morning, and proceeded to the deck for his constitutional. + There he fell in with Captain Neil Fraser and Captain Hopeton pacing up + and down. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Pilot!” said Captain Neil, heartily, between whom + and the chaplain during the last few days a cordial friendship had sprung + up. “We're looking for submarines. This is the place and the + time for Fritz, if he is going to get us at all.” + </p> + <p> + Arm in arm they made the circle of the deck. The mist, lying like a bank + upon the sea, shifted the horizon to within a thousand yards of the ship. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew just what lies behind that bank there,” said + Captain Hopeton, pointing over the bow. + </p> + <p> + For some moments they stood, peering idly into the mist. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, there IS something there,” said Barry, who had a + hawk's eye. + </p> + <p> + “You've got 'em too, eh,” laughed Hopeton. “I've + had 'em for the last forty-eight hours. I've been 'seein' + things' all night.” + </p> + <p> + “But there is,” insisted Barry, pointing over the port bow. + </p> + <p> + “What is it like?” asked Captain Neil, while Hopeton ran for + his glass. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what it's like—exactly like the eye + of an oyster in its pulp. And, by Jove, there's another!” + added Barry excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see anything,” said Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “But I can,” insisted Barry. “Look there, Hopeton!” + </p> + <p> + Hopeton fixed his glass upon the mist, where Barry pointed. + </p> + <p> + “You're right! There is something, and there are two of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Give the Pilot the glass, Hopeton,” said Neil. “He's + got a good eye.” + </p> + <p> + “There are two ships, boys, as I'm a sinner, but what they + are, I don't know,” cried Barry in a voice tense with + excitement. “Here, Neil, take the glass. You know about ships.” + </p> + <p> + Long and earnestly, Captain Neil held the glass in the direction + indicated. + </p> + <p> + “Boys, by all that's holy, they're destroyers,” he + said at length in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + Even as they gazed, the two black dots rapidly took shape, growing out of + the mist into two sea monsters, all head and shoulders, boring through the + seas, each flinging high a huge comb of white spray, and with an + indescribable suggestion of arrogant, resistless power, bearing down upon + the ship at furious speed. + </p> + <p> + “Destroyers!” shouted Captain Neil, in a voice that rang + through the ship. “By gad, destroyers!” + </p> + <p> + There was no question of friend or foe; only Great Britain's navy + rode over those seas immune. + </p> + <p> + Upon every hand the word was caught up and passed along. In a marvellously + short space of time, the rails, the boats, the rigging, all the points of + vantage were thronged with men, roaring, waving, cheering, like mad. + </p> + <p> + With undiminished speed, each enveloped in its cloud of spray, the + destroyers came, one on each side, rushed foaming past, swept in a circle + around the ship and took their stations alongside, riding quietly at half + speed like bulldogs tugging at a leash. + </p> + <p> + “Great heavens, what a sight!” At the croak in Hopeton's + voice, the others turned and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “You've got it too, eh!” said Captain Neil, clearing his + own throat. + </p> + <p> + “I've got something, God knows!” answered Hopeton, + wiping his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I, too,” said Barry, swallowing the proverbial lump. “Those + little—little—” + </p> + <p> + “Bulldogs,” suggested Hopeton. + </p> + <p> + “Bulldog pups,” said Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “That's it,” said Barry. “That's what they + are, little bulldog pups, got me by the throat all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, too, by gad!” said Captain Neil. “I should have + howled out loud in another minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to the boys!” cried Barry. + </p> + <p> + From end to end of the ship rose one continuous roar, “Good old + Navy! Good old John Bull!” while Hopeton, openly abandoning the + traditional reserve and self-control supposed to be a characteristic of + the English public school boy, climbed upon the rail and, hanging by a + stanchion with one hand, and with the other frantically waving his cap + over his head, continued to shout: + </p> + <p> + “England! England! England forever!” + </p> + <p> + Then above the cheering cries was heard the battalion band, and from a + thousand throats in solemn chant there rose the Empire's national + anthem, “God Save the King.” + </p> + <p> + That night they steamed into old Plymouth town, and the following morning + were anchored safe at Devonport dock. Strict orders held the officers and + men on board ship until arrangements for debarkation should be completed, + but to Barry and the doctor, the Commanding Officer gave shore leave for + an hour. + </p> + <p> + “And I would suggest,” he said, “that you go and have a + talk with that old boy walking up and down the dock there. Yarn to him + about Canada, he's wild to know about it.” + </p> + <p> + The old naval officer was indeed “wild to know about Canada,” + so that the greater part of their shore leave was spent in answering his + questions, and eager though he was to explore the old historic town, + before Barry knew it, he was in the full tide of a glowing description of + his own Province of Alberta, extolling its great ranches, its sweeping + valleys, its immense resources. + </p> + <p> + “And to think you are all British out there,” exclaimed the + old salt. + </p> + <p> + “We're all British, of course,” replied Barry, “but + not all from Britain.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know,” said the officer, “but that only makes + it more wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful! Why, why should it be wonderful?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wonderful. Oh, you Canadians,” cried the old salt, + impulsively stretching out his hand to Barry. “You Canadians!” + </p> + <p> + Surprised, Barry glanced at his face. Those hard blue eyes were brimming + with tears; the leatherlike skin was working curiously about the mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, I don't quite understand what you mean,” said + Barry. + </p> + <p> + “No, and you never will. Think of it, rushing three thousand miles—” + </p> + <p> + “Five thousand for some of us,” interrupted Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Fancy that! Rushing five thousand miles in this way, to help old + mother England, and all of your own free will. We didn't ask it of + you. Though, by heaven, we're grateful for it. I find it difficult, + sir, to speak quietly of this.” + </p> + <p> + Not until that moment had Barry caught the British point of view. To him, + as to all Canadians, it had only been a perfectly reasonable and natural + thing that when the Empire was threatened, they should spring into the + fight. They saw nothing heroic in that. They were doing their simple duty. + </p> + <p> + “But think of the wonder of it,” said the naval officer again, + “that Canada should feel in that way its response to the call of the + blood.” + </p> + <p> + The old man's lips were still quivering. + </p> + <p> + “That is true, sir,” said the M. O., joining in the talk, + “but there is something more. Frankly, my opinion is that the + biggest thing, sir, with some of us in Canada, is not that the motherland + was in need of help, though, of course, we all feel that, but that the + freedom of the world is threatened, and that Canada, as one of the free + nations of the world, must do her part in its defence.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine spirit,” said the old gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “This fight,” continued the M. O., “is ours, you see, as + well as yours, and we hate a bully.” + </p> + <p> + The old salt swore a great oath, and said: + </p> + <p> + “You are pups of the old breed, and you run true to type. I'm + glad to know you, gentlemen,” he continued, shaking them warmly by + the hand. + </p> + <p> + After they had gone a few steps he called Barry back to him. + </p> + <p> + “That's my card, sir. I should like you to come to see me in + London sometime when you are on leave.” + </p> + <p> + Barry glanced at the card and read, “Commander Howard Vincent, R. N. + R.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very decent of the old boy,” he said to the Commanding + Officer afterwards, when recounting the interview. “I don't + suppose I'll ever use the card, but I do think he really meant it.” + </p> + <p> + “Meant it,” exclaimed the Commanding Officer. “Why, + Dunbar, I'm an old country man, and I know. Make no mistake. These + people, and especially these naval people, do not throw their cards + loosely about. You will undoubtedly hear from him.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not likely,” replied Barry, “but the old + gentleman is great stuff, all right.” + </p> + <p> + During the long, sunny spring day, their dinky little train whisked them + briskly through the sweet and restful beauty of the English southern + counties. To these men, however, from the wide sunbaked, windswept plains + of western Canada, the English landscape suggested a dainty picture, done + in soft greys and greens, with here and there a vivid splash of colour, + where the rich red soil broke through the green. But its tiny fields set + off with hedges, and lines of trees, its little, clean-swept villages, + with their picturesque church spires, its parks with deer that actually + stood still to look at you, its splendid manor houses, and, at rare + intervals, its turreted castles, gave these men, fresh from the raw, + unmeasured and unmade west, a sense of unreality. To them it seemed a toy + landscape for children to play with, but, as they passed through the big + towns and cities with their tall, clustering chimneys, their crowding + populations, with unmistakable evidences of great wealth, their shipping, + where the harbours bit into the red coast line, there began to waken in + them the thought that this tiny England, so beautifully finished, and so + neatly adorned, was something mightier than they had ever known. + </p> + <p> + In these tiny fields, in these clean swept villages, in these manor + houses, in these castles, in factory and in shipyard, were struck deep the + roots of an England whose greatness they had never yet guessed. + </p> + <p> + The next afternoon brought them to the great military camp at Shorncliffe, + in a misty rain, hungry, for their rations had been exhausted early in the + day, weary from ship and train travel, and eager to get their feet once + again on mother earth. + </p> + <p> + At the little station they were kept waiting in a pouring rain for + something to happen, they knew not what. The R. T. O., a young Imperial + officer, blase with his ten months of war in England, had some occult + reason for delaying their departure. So, while the night grew every moment + wetter and darker, the men sat on their kit-bags or found such shelter as + they could in the tiny station, or in the lee of the “goods trains” + blocking the railroad tracks, growing more indignant and more disgusted + with the British high command, the war in general, and registering with + increasing intensity vows of vengeance against the Kaiser, who, in the + last analysis, they considered responsible for their misery. + </p> + <p> + At length the “brass hat” for whom they had been waiting + appeared upon the scene, not in the slightest degree apologetic, but very + businesslike, and with a highly emphasised military manner. After a little + conversation between the brass hat and their Commanding Officer, the + latter gave the command and off they set in the darkness for their first + route march on English soil. + </p> + <p> + Through muddy roads and lanes, over fields, slushy and sodden, up hill and + down dale, they plodded steadily along. At the rear of the column marched + Barry with the M. O. + </p> + <p> + Long before they reached their destination, their conversation had given + out, the M. O. sucking sullenly at his pipe, the bowl upside down. The + rear end of the column was very frayed and straggling. Why it is that a + perfectly fit company will invariably fray out if placed at the rear of a + marching column, no military expert has quite succeeded in satisfactorily + explaining. + </p> + <p> + As he tramped along in the dark by the side of the road, the M. O. + stumbled over a soldier sitting upon the soggy bank. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” he inquired shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Corporal Thom, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all in, sir. I've been sick all day, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you report sick, then? Can't you get on?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so, sir. Not for a while, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any pain, any nausea?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I'm just all in.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know our route?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I've got the turns down.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, come along then when you can. I'll send back a waggon + later, but don't wait for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Corporal Thom. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Dunbar! We'll send a waggon back for these + stragglers. There will be a good many of them before long.” + </p> + <p> + “You go on, doc. I'll come later,” said Barry. “I'll + catch up to you.” + </p> + <p> + But the M. O., at the various halts, waited in vain for the chaplain to + appear. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the camp, after a long struggle, he succeeded in sending + back an Army Service waggon to bring in the stragglers, but just as the + waggon was about to leave, he heard coming up the road, a party stepping + out briskly to the music of their own whistling. In the rear of the party + marched the chaplain, laden down with one man's rifle and another + man's kit-bag. + </p> + <p> + “They're all here, sir,” said Corporal Thom to the M. + O., with a distinct note of triumph in his voice. “All here, sir,” + he repeated, as he observed the sergeant major standing at the doctor's + side. + </p> + <p> + “Well done, corporal,” said the sergeant major. “You + brought 'em all in? That means that no man has fallen out on our + first march in this country.” + </p> + <p> + The corporal made no reply, but later on, he explained the matter to the + sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + “It's that Sky Pilot of ours, sir,” he said. “Blowed + if he'd let us fall out.” + </p> + <p> + “Kept you marching, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it's his chocolate and his jaw, but more his jaw than his + chocolate. He's got lots of both. I was all in. I'd been sick + all day in the train. Couldn't eat a bite. Well, the first thing, he + gives me a cake of his chocolate. Then he sets himself down in the mud + beside me, and me wishin' all the time he'd go on and leave me + for the waggon to pick up. Then he gives me a cigarette, and then he + begins to talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Talk, what about?” + </p> + <p> + “Damned if I know, but the first thing I knew I was tellin' + him about the broncho bustin',—that's my job, you know—and + how I won out from Nigger Jake in the Calgary Stampede, until I was that + stuck on myself that I said: 'Well, sir, we'd better get a + move on,' and up he gets with my kit-bag on his back. By and by, we + picks up another lame duck and then another, feedin' 'em with + chocolate and slingin' his jaw, and when we was at the limit, he + halts us outside one of them stone shacks and knocks at the door. 'No + soldiers here,' snaps the red-headed angel, shuttin' the door + right in his face. Then he opens the door and steps right in where she + could see him, and starts to talk to her, and us listening out in the + rain. Say! In fifteen minutes we was all standin' up to a feed of + coffee and buns, and then he gets Harry Hobbs whistlin' and singin', + and derned if we couldn't have marched to Berlin. Say! He's a + good one, ain't no quitter, and he won't let nobody else be a + quitter.” + </p> + <p> + And thus it came that with Corporal Thom and his derelicts the chaplain + marched into a new place in the esteem of the men of his battalion, and of + its sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + But of this, of course, Barry had no knowledge. He knew that he had made + some little progress into the confidence of both officers and men in his + battalion. He had made, too, some firm friendships which had relieved, to + a certain extent, the sense of isolation and loneliness that had made his + first months with the battalion so appalling. But there still remained the + sense of failure inasfar as his specific duty as chaplain was concerned. + </p> + <p> + The experiences of the first weeks in England only served to deepen in him + the conviction that his influence on the men against the evils which were + their especial snare was as the wind against the incoming tide, beating in + from the North Sea. He could make a ripple, a certain amount of fussy + noise, but the tide of temptation rolled steadily onward, unchecked in its + flow. + </p> + <p> + The old temptations to profanity, drink and lust, that had haunted the + soldiers' steps at home, were found to be lying in wait for them + here and in aggravated form. True, in the mess and in his presence among + the men there was less profanity than there had been at the first, but it + filled him with a kind of rage to feel that this change was due to no + sense of the evil of the habit, but solely to an unwillingness to give + offence to one whom many of them were coming to regard with respect and + some even with affection. + </p> + <p> + “I hate that,” he said to the M. O., to whom he would + occasionally unburden his soul. “You'd think I was a kind of + policeman over their morals.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wouldn't worry about that,” said the M. O., to + whom the habit of profanity was a very venial sin. “You ought to be + mighty glad that your presence does act as a kind of moral prophylactic. + And it does, I assure you. I confess that since I have come to be + associated with you, I am conscious of a very real, and at times, + distressing limitation of my vocabulary. I may not be more virtuous, but + certainly I am more respectable.” + </p> + <p> + This sentiment, however, brought little comfort to the chaplain. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a policeman,” he protested, “and I am not + going to play policeman to these men. I notice them shut up when I come + around, but I know quite well that they turn themselves loose when I pass + on, and that they feel much more comfortable. I am not and will not be + their policeman.” + </p> + <p> + “What then would you be?” inquired the M. O. + </p> + <p> + Barry pondered this question for some time. + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth,” he said, at length, “I confess, I + don't quite know. I wish I did, doc, on my soul. One thing I do + know, the men are no better here in their morals than they were at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Better? They are worse, by Jove!” exclaimed the M. O. “Look + at the daily crime-sheet! Look at that daily orderly room parade. It's + something fierce, and it's getting worse.” + </p> + <p> + “The wet canteen?” inquired Barry, who had lost prestige with + some in the battalion by reason of the strenuous fight he had made against + its introduction since coming to England. Not that the men cared so much + for their liquor, but they resented the idea that they were denied + privileges enjoyed by other battalions. + </p> + <p> + “The wet canteen?” echoed the doctor. “No, you know I + opposed, as you did, the introduction of the wet canteen, although not + upon the same grounds. I regard it as a perfect nuisance in camp. It is + the centre of every disorder, it is subversive of discipline; it + materially increases my sick parade. But it is not the wet canteen that is + chiefly responsible for the growing crime-sheet and orderly room parade. + It is those damned—I don't apologise—” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't. Say it again!” exclaimed Barry fervently. + </p> + <p> + “Those damned pubs,” continued the M. O., “stuck at + every crossroads in this country. They're the cause of ninety per + cent. of the drunkenness in our army, and more than that, I want to give + you another bit of information that came out at our M. O. conference this + week, namely that these pubs account for ninety per cent. of our tent + hospital cases.” + </p> + <p> + “Ninety per cent., doctor? That's surely high.” + </p> + <p> + “I would have said so, but I am giving you the unanimous verdict of + the twenty-six medical officers at the conference. Cut out the damned beer—and + you know I take my share of it—cut out the beer and ninety per cent. + of the venereal disease goes. With me it is not a question of morality but + of efficiency.” Here the M. O. sprang from his chair and began to + pace the hut. “This is the one thing in this army business that + makes me wild. We come over here to fight—these boys are willing to + fight—and by gad they will fight! They go out for a walk, they have + a few beers together, their inhibitory powers are paralysed, opportunity + comes their way, and they wake up a little later diseased. God in heaven! + I love this dear old England, and I would die for her if need be, but may + God Almighty damn her public houses, and all the infernal and vicious + customs which they nourish.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, doctor, go right on,” said Barry. “I was at + the tent hospital this week for the first time. Ever since, I have been + wanting to say what you have said just now. But what did your M. O. + conference do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “What could we do? The Home Office blocks the way. Well, I've + got that off my stomach, and I feel better,” added the M. O., with a + slight laugh. + </p> + <p> + “But, doc, I want to say this,” said Barry. “I don't + believe that the percentage of men who go in for this sort of thing is + large. I've been making inquiries from our chaplains and they all + agree that we have a mighty fine and clean body of men in our Canadian + army.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are! Of course, it is only a small percentage, a very + small percentage—a much smaller percentage than in our civilian + population at home. But small as it is, it is just that much too many. + Hell and blazes! These men are soldiers. They have left their homes, and + their folks, to fight. Their people—their people are the best in our + land. There's that young Pentland. A finer young chap never threw a + leg over a broncho. He's in that tent hospital to-night. I know his + mother. Three sons she has given. Oh, damn it all,” the doctor's + voice broke at this point. “I can't speak quietly. Their + mothers have given them up, to death, if need be, but not to this rotten, + damnable disease. Look here, Pilot!” The doctor pointed a shaking + and accusing finger at Barry. “You have often spoken against this + thing, but next time you break loose, give them merry hell over it. You + can't make it too hot.” + </p> + <p> + Long Barry sat silent overborne by the fury of the doctor's + passionate indictment. + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up, old chap!” said the doctor, when his wrath had + somewhat subsided. “We'll lick the Kaiser and beat the devil + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “But, doctor, what can I do?” implored Barry. “That's + part of my job, surely. Part of the job of the chaplain service, I mean. + Oh, that is the ghastly tragedy of this work of mine. Somehow I can't + get at it. These evils exist. I can speak against them and make enemies, + but the things go on just as before.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe it, Pilot, not quite as before. Behold how + you have already checked my profanity. Even the old man has pretty much + cut it out at mess. You don't know where they would have been but + for you. Cheer up! Our wings may not be visible but, on the other hand, + there are no signs of horns and hoofs.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, one thing I'll do,” cried Barry, with a sudden + inspiration “We've a meeting of the chaplains' corps + to-morrow. I'll give them your speech.” + </p> + <p> + “Expurgated edition, I hope,” said the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “No, I'll put in every damn I can remember, and, if need be, a + few more.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, I'd like to be there, old boy!” said the doctor, + fervently. + </p> + <p> + Barry was as good as his word. At the meeting of the chaplains' + corps, the time was mainly taken up in routine business, dealing with + arrangements for religious services at the various camps within the area. + </p> + <p> + At the close of the meeting, however, one of the chaplains rose and + announced that he had a matter to bring to the attention of the corps—a + matter of the highest importance, which demanded their immediate and + serious attention, and which they dared not any longer ignore. It was the + matter of venereal disease in our Canadian army. + </p> + <p> + His statistics and illustrative incidents gripped hard the hearts of the + men present. He closed with a demand that steps be taken that day to deal + with the situation. The Canadian people had entrusted them with the care + of their boys' souls. “Their souls,” he cried. “I + say our first duty is to their bodies. I am not saying the percentage is + large. It is not as large as in the civilian population at home. But why + any? We must care for these men's bodies. They fight with their + bodies.” + </p> + <p> + His last sentence struck Barry to the heart. It recalled his own sermon, + spoken in Edmonton to his father's battalion. Immediately he was on + his feet, and without preface or apology, reproduced as far as he was able + the M. O.'s speech of the previous night, and that without + expurgation. + </p> + <p> + There was but little discussion. There was but one opinion. It was + resolved to call a joint meeting of the chaplains and medical officers to + decide upon a course of action. + </p> + <p> + As Barry was leaving the meeting, the senior chaplain, an old Anglican + clergyman, with a saintly face and a smile that set one's tenderest + emotions astir, came to him, and putting his hand affectionately upon his + shoulder, said: + </p> + <p> + “And how is your work going, my dear fellow?” + </p> + <p> + It was to Barry as if his father's hand were upon his shoulder, and + before he was aware he was pouring out the miserable story of his own sad + failure as a chaplain. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy! Poor boy!” the old gentleman kept saying. “I + know how you feel. Just so, just so!” + </p> + <p> + When Barry had finished relieving his heart of the burden that had so long + lain upon it, the old gentleman took him by the hand and said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, remember they are far from home. These boys need + their mothers. They sorely need their mothers! And, my boy, they need God. + And they need you. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + Barry came away with a warm feeling in his heart, and in it a new purpose + and resolve. No longer would he be a policeman to his men. He would try to + forget their faults, and to remember only how sorely they needed their + mothers and their God, and that they needed him, too. + </p> + <p> + He found the camp thrilling with great news, glorious news. The day so + long awaited had come. The battalion was under orders for France. At that + very moment there was an officers' meeting in the orderly room. + </p> + <p> + As Barry entered the room, the O. C. was closing his speech. + </p> + <p> + Barry was immediately conscious of a new tone, a new spirit, in the + colonel's words. He spoke with a new sense of responsibility, and + what more than anything else arrested Barry's attention, with a new + sense of brotherhood toward his officers. + </p> + <p> + “In closing what I have to say, gentlemen, let me make a confession. + I am not satisfied with the battalion, nor with my officers. I am not + satisfied with myself. I remember being indignant at the report sent in by + the inspecting officer concerning this battalion. I thought he was unfair + and unduly severe. I believe I said so. Gentlemen, I was wrong. Since that + time I have seen work in some regiments of the Imperial Service, and + especially, I have seen the work on the front line. I think I know now + what discipline means. Discipline, gentlemen, is the thing that saves an + army from disaster. Some things we must cut out absolutely. Whatever + unfits for service must go. I saw a soldier, a Canadian soldier, shot at + the front for being intoxicated. I pray God, I may never see the like + again. At this point, I wish to express my appreciation of the work of our + chaplain, who I am glad to see has just come in. He has stood for the + right thing among us, and has materially helped in the discipline and + efficiency of this battalion. Gentlemen, you have your orders. Let there + be no failure. Obedience is demanded, not excuses. Gentlemen, carry on!” + </p> + <p> + Barry hurried away to his hut. The words of his colonel had lifted him out + of his despair. He had not then so desperately failed. His colonel had + found something in him to approve. And France was before him! There was + still a chance for service. The boys would need him there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + FRANCE + </h3> + <p> + “France, sunny France!” The tone carried concentrated + bitterness and disgust. “One cursed fraud after another in this war.” + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up!” said Barry. “There's worse to come—perhaps + better. This rain is beastly, but the clouds will pass, and the sun will + shine again, for in spite of the rain this IS 'sunny France.' + There's a little homily for you,” said Barry, “and for + myself as well, for I assure you this combination of mal de mer and sleet + makes one feel rotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything is rotten,” grumbled Duff, gazing gloomily through + the drizzling rain at the rugged outline of wharves that marked the + Boulogne docks. + </p> + <p> + “Look at this,” cried Duff, sweeping his hand toward the deck. + “You would think this stuff was shot out of the blower of a + threshing machine—soldier's baggage, kits, quartermaster's + stores—and this is a military organisation. Good Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant Duff! Is Lieutenant Duff here?” It was the O. C.'s + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Duff, going forward and saluting. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Duff, I wish you to take charge of the Transport for the + present. Lieutenant Bonner is quite useless—helpless, I mean. You + will find Sergeant Mackay a reliable man. Sorry I couldn't give you + longer notice. I think, however, you are the man for the job.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do my best, sir,” said Duff, saluting, as the O. + C. turned away. + </p> + <p> + “What did I tell you, Duff?” said Barry. “You certainly + are in for it, and you have my sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + “Sympathy! Don't you worry about me,” said Duff. “This + is just the kind of thing I like. I haven't run a gang of navvies in + the Crow's Nest Pass for nothing. You watch my smoke. But, one word, + Pilot! When you see me bearing down, full steam ahead, give me room! I'll + make this go or bust something.” Then in a burst of confidence, he + took Barry by the arm, and added in a low voice: “And if I live, + Pilot, I'll be running something in this war bigger than the + Transport of a battalion before I'm done.” + </p> + <p> + Barry let his eyes run over the powerful figure, the rugged, passionate + face, lit up now with gleaming eyes, and said: + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, Duff. Meantime, I'll watch your smoke.” + </p> + <p> + “Do!” replied Duff with superb self-confidence. And it was + worth while during the next hour to watch Duff evolve order out of chaos. + First of all he put into his men and into his sergeant the fear of death. + But he did more than that. He breathed into them something of his own + spirit of invincible determination. He had them springing at his snappy + orders with an eagerness that was in itself the larger half of obedience, + and as they obeyed they became conscious that they were working under the + direction of a brain that had a perfected plan of action, and that held + its details firmly in its grasp. + </p> + <p> + Not only did Duff show himself a master of organisation and control, but + in a critical moment he himself leaped into the breach, and did the thing + that balked his men. Did a heavy transport wagon jamb at the gangway, + holding up the traffic, with a spring, Duff was at the wheel. A heave of + his mighty shoulders, and the wagon went roaring down the gangway. Did a + horse, stupid with terror, from its unusual surroundings, balk, Duff had a + “twitch” on its upper lip, and before it knew what awful thing + had gripped it, the horse was lifted clear out of its tracks, and was on + its way to the dock. + </p> + <p> + Before he had cleared the ship, Duff had a circle of admirers about him, + gazing as if at a circus. + </p> + <p> + “An energetic officer you have there,” said the brass hat + standing beside the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “A new man. This is his first time on the transport,” replied + the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Quite remarkable! Quite remarkable!” exclaimed the brass hat. + “That unloading must have been done in record time, and in spite of + quite unusual conditions.” + </p> + <p> + The boat being clear and the loads made up, Duff approached the Commanding + Officer. + </p> + <p> + “All ready, sir,” he announced. “Shall we move off? I + should like to get a start. The roads will be almost impassable, I'm + afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the route?” asked the Commanding Officer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I have it here.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, go ahead, Duff. A mighty good piece of work you have + done there.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Duff, saluting and turning away. + </p> + <p> + “Move off, there,” he shouted to the leading team. + </p> + <p> + The driver started the team but they slipped, plunged and fell heavily. + Duff was at their heads before any other man could move. + </p> + <p> + “Get hold here, men,” he yelled. “Take hold of that + horse. What are you afraid of?” he cried to a groom who was gingerly + approaching the struggling animal. “Now then, all together!” + </p> + <p> + When he had the team on their feet again, he said to the grooms standing + at their heads, “Jump up on the horses' backs; that will help + the them to hold their footing.” + </p> + <p> + There was some slight hesitation on the part of the grooms. + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” he roared, and striding to the horse nearest him, + he flung himself upon its back. + </p> + <p> + A groom mounted the other, and once more a start was made, but they had + not gone more than a few steps, when the groom's horse fell heavily, + and rolled over on its side, pinning the unfortunate man beneath him. + </p> + <p> + There was a shriek of agony. In an instant Duff was off his horse and at + the head of the fallen animal. + </p> + <p> + “Medical officer here!” he shouted. “Now then, two of + you men. One of you pull out that man while we lift.” + </p> + <p> + The horse's head and shoulders were lifted clear, and the injured + man was pulled out of danger. + </p> + <p> + “Take him out of the way, please, doctor,” said Duff, to the + M. O., who was examining the groom. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant!” + </p> + <p> + His sergeant literally sprang to his side. + </p> + <p> + “Get me a dozen bags,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Bags, sir? I don't know where—” + </p> + <p> + “Bags,” repeated Duff savagely. “Canvas, anything to + wrap around these horses' feet.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant without further words plunged into the darkness, returning + almost immediately with half a dozen bags. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, sergeant; that's the way to move. Now get some more!” + </p> + <p> + Under Duff's directions the bags were tied about the feet of the + horses, thus enabling them to hold their footing, and the transport moved + off in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Returning from the disposing of the injured man, the M. O. found Barry + shivering with the cold, and weak from his recent attack of seasickness. + </p> + <p> + “There will be no end of a sick parade to-morrow morning, and you'll + be one of them,” grumbled the M. O. “If they don't move + them out of here soon they'll take them away in ambulances. There + are a hundred men at this moment fit to go to hospital, but the O. C. won't + hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Doc, they ought to have something hot. The kitchens are left + behind, I understand. Let me have a couple of your men, and let me see + what I can do.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no use, I've tried all the hotels about here. They're + full up.” + </p> + <p> + “No harm trying, doc,” said Barry, and off he went. + </p> + <p> + But he found the hotels full up, as the doctor had said. After much + inquiry, he found his way to the Y. M. C. A. A cheerful but sleepy + secretary, half dead with the fatigue of a heavy day ministering to + soldiers “going up the line,” could offer him no help at all. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that there is no place in this town,” said + Barry desperately, “where a sick man can get a dish of coffee?” + </p> + <p> + “Sick man!” cried the secretary. “Why, certainly! Why + not try the R. A. M. C.? They've a hospital half a mile up the + street. They will certainly help you out. I'll come with you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't,” said Barry. “You go back to bed. + I'll find the place.” + </p> + <p> + Half a mile up the street, as the secretary had said, Barry came upon the + flaring lantern of the R. A. M. C., at the entrance to a huge warehouse, + the gate of which stood wide open. + </p> + <p> + Entering the courtyard, Barry found a group of men about a blazing fire. + </p> + <p> + “May I see the officer in charge?” he asked, approaching the + group. + </p> + <p> + The men glanced at his rank badges. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said a sergeant, clicking his heels smartly. + “Can I do anything for you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Barry, and told him his wants. + </p> + <p> + “We have plenty of biscuits,” said the sergeant, “and + coffee, too. You are welcome to all you can carry, but I don't see + how we can do any more for you. But would you like to see the officer in + charge, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Barry, and together they passed into another + room. + </p> + <p> + But the officer was engaged elsewhere. While they were discussing the + matter, a door opened, and a young girl dressed in the uniform of a V. A. + D. (Voluntary Aid Detachment) appeared. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, sergeant?” she inquired, in a soft but rather + tired voice. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant explained, while she listened with mild interest. Then Barry + took up the tale, and proceeded to dilate upon the wretched condition of + his comrades, out in the icy rain. But his story moved the V. A. D. not at + all. She had seen too much of the real misery and horrors of war. Barry + began to feel discouraged, and indeed a little ashamed of himself. + </p> + <p> + “You see, we have just come over,” he said in an apologetic + tone, “and we don't know much about war yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You are Canadians?” cried the girl, a new interest dawning in + her eyes. As she came into the light, Barry noticed that they were brown, + and that they were very lustrous. + </p> + <p> + “I love the Canadians,” she exclaimed. “My brother was a + liaison artillery officer at Ypres; with them, at the time of the gas, you + know. He liked them immensely.” Her voice was soft and sad. + </p> + <p> + Unconsciously Barry let his eyes fall to the black band on her arm. + </p> + <p> + “He was with the Canadians, too, when he was killed at Armentieres, + three months ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Killed!” exclaimed Barry. “Oh, I am so sorry for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I had two brothers,” she went on, in her gentle even tone. + “One was killed at Landrecies, on the retreat from Mons, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Barry, “I'm afraid I don't know + about it. Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “It was a great fight,” said the girl. “Oh, a splendid + fight!” A ring came into her voice and a little colour into her + cheek. “They tried to rush our men, but they couldn't. My + oldest brother was there in charge of a machine gun section. The machine + guns did wonderful work. The colonel came to tell us about it. He said it + was very fine.” There was no sign of tears in her eyes, nor tremor + in her voice, only tenderness and pride. + </p> + <p> + “And your mother is alone now?” inquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we gave up our house to the government for a hospital. You see, + father was in munitions. He's too old for active service, and mother + is matron in the hospital. She was very unwilling that I should come over + here. She said I was far too young, but of course that's quite + nonsense. So you see, we are all in it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is perfectly amazing,” said Barry. “You British + women are wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes opened a little wider. + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful? Why, what else could we do? But the Canadians! I think + they're wonderful, coming all this way to fight.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see that,” said Barry. “That's what + that old naval boy at Devonport said, but I can't see that it's + anything wonderful that we should fight for our Empire.” + </p> + <p> + “Devonport! A naval officer!” The girl lost her calm. She + became excited. “What was his name?” + </p> + <p> + “I have his card here,” said Barry, taking out his pocket book + and handing her the card. + </p> + <p> + “My uncle!” she cried. “Why, how perfectly splendid!” + offering Barry her hand. “Why, we're really introduced. Then + you're the man that Uncle Howard—” She stopped abruptly, + a flush on her cheek. Then she turned to the N. C. O. “Yes, + sergeant, that will do,” as the man brought half a dozen large + biscuit cans and as many large bottles of prepared coffee. + </p> + <p> + As Barry's eyes fell upon the biscuit cans an idea came to him. + </p> + <p> + “Will these cans hold water?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Then, we're fixed,” cried Barry, in high delight. + “This is perfectly fine.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “We'll dump the biscuits, and boil the coffee in the cans. I + haven't camped on the Athabasca for nothing. Now we're all + right and I suppose we must go.” + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. hesitated a moment, then she took the sergeant to one side, + and entered into earnest and persuasive talk with him. + </p> + <p> + “It's against regulations, miss,” Barry heard him say, + “and besides, you know, we're expecting a hospital train any + minute, and every car will be needed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll take my own car,” she said. “It's + all ready and has the chains on, sergeant, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's quite ready, but you will get me into trouble, + miss.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I'll get you out again. Load those things in, while I + run and change—I'm going to drive you out to your camp,” + she said to Barry as she hurried away. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant shook his head as he looked after her. + </p> + <p> + “She's a thoroughbred, sir,” he said. “We jump + when she asks us for anything. She's a real blooded one; not like + some, sir—like some of them fullrigged ones. They keep 'er + 'oppin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Fullrigged ones?” inquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Them nurses, I mean, sir. They loves to 'awe them—them + young 'Vaddies,' as we call them—V. A. D., you know, + sir. They keeps 'em a 'oppin' proper—scrubbin' + floors, runnin' messages, but Miss Vincent, she mostly drives a car.” + </p> + <p> + While the sergeant was dilating upon the virtues and excellences of the + young V. A. D., his men ran out her car, and packed into it the biscuit + tins and coffee. By the time the sergeant was ready she was back, dressed + in a chauffeur's uniform. + </p> + <p> + Barry had thought her charming in her V. A. D. dress, but in her uniform + she was bewitching. He noticed that her hair clustered in tiny ringlets + about her natty little cap, in quite a maddening way. One vagrant curl + over her ear had a particular fascination for his eyes. He felt it ought + to be tucked in just a shade. He was conscious of an almost irresistible + desire to do the tucking in. What would happen if— + </p> + <p> + “Well, are you ready?” inquired the girl in a quick, + businesslike tone. + </p> + <p> + “What? Oh, yes,” said Barry, recalled to the business of the + moment. + </p> + <p> + During the drive the girl gave her whole attention to her wheel, as indeed + was necessary, for the road was dangerously slippery, and she drove + without lights through the black night. Barry kept up an endless stream of + talk, set going by her command, as she took her place at the wheel. + “Now tell me about Canada. I can listen, but I can't talk.” + </p> + <p> + In the full tide of his most eloquent passages, Barry found himself + growing incoherent at times, for his mind was in a state of oscillation + between the wonderful and lustrous qualities of the brown eyes that he + remembered flashing upon him in the light of the fire, and that maddening + little curl over the girl's ear. + </p> + <p> + In an unbelievably short time, so it seemed to him, they came upon the + rear of a marching column. + </p> + <p> + “These are your men, I fancy,” she said, “and this will + be your camp on the left; I know it well. I've often been here.” + </p> + <p> + She swung the car off the road into an open field, set out with tents, and + brought the car to a stop beside an old ruined factory. + </p> + <p> + “This, I believe, will be the best place for your purpose,” + she said, and sprang from her seat, and ran to the ruin, flashing her + torchlight before her. “Here you are,” she said. “This + will be just the thing.” + </p> + <p> + Barry followed her a few steps down into the long, stone-flagged cellar. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid! This is the very thing,” he cried enthusiastically. + “You are really the most wonderful person.” + </p> + <p> + “Now get your stuff in here,” she ordered. “But what + will you do for wood? There is always water,” she added, “in + some tanks further on. Come, I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + Barry followed her in growing amazement and admiration at her prompt + efficiency. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, there are your tanks,” she said. “As for + wood, I don't know what you will do, but there is a garden paling a + little further on, and, of course—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry about that,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I won't,” with a gay laugh; “I know you + Canadians, you see.” + </p> + <p> + Together they returned to the car. + </p> + <p> + Before she mounted to her seat she turned to Barry, and offered him her + hand and said: “I think it is perfectly ripping that we were + introduced in this way. Though I don't know your name yet,” + she added shyly. + </p> + <p> + “Awfully stupid of me,” said Barry, and he gave her his name, + adding that of the regiment, and his rank. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, then,” she said, climbing into her car, and + starting her engine. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Barry, “I must see you safely back.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a scornful but, as Barry thought, a most delicious little + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! We don't do that sort of thing here, you know. We're + on our own.” + </p> + <p> + A little silence fell between them. + </p> + <p> + “When does your battalion march?” she asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps to-morrow. I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do go then,” she said, with again that little touch of + shyness, “I suppose I won't see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “See you again,” exclaimed Barry, his tone indicating that the + possibility of such a calamity was unthinkable, “why, of course I + shall see you again. I must see you again—I—I—I just + must see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, then,” she said in a soft, hurried voice, + throwing in her clutch. + </p> + <p> + Barry stood listening in the dark to the hum of her engine, growing more + faint every moment. + </p> + <p> + “Some girl, eh?” said a voice. At his side he saw Harry Hobbs. + Barry turned sharply upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, Hobbs, some wood and we will get a fire going and look + lively! And, Hobbs, I believe there's a fence about fifty yards down + there, which you might find useful. Now move. Quick!” Unconsciously + he tried to reproduce, in uttering the last word, Duff's tone and + manner. The effect was evident immediately. + </p> + <p> + Hobbs without further words departed in the darkness. Again Barry stood + listening to the hum of the engine, until he could no longer hear it in + the noise and confusion of the camp, but in his heart Harry's words + made music. + </p> + <p> + “Some girl, eh?” + </p> + <p> + As he stood there in the darkness, hearing that music in his heart, a + voice broke in, swearing hard and deep oaths. It was the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, doc, my boy; come here,” cried Barry. + </p> + <p> + The M. O. approached. He was in a state of rage that rendered coherent + speech impossible. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, quit it, doc. Let me show you something.” + </p> + <p> + He led him into the ruin, where his spoils were cached. + </p> + <p> + “Biscuits, my boy, and coffee. Hold on! Listen! I'm going to + get a fire going here and in twenty minutes there'll be six cans of + fragrant delicious coffee, boiling hot.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how the—” + </p> + <p> + “Doc, don't talk! Listen to me! You round up your sick men, + and bring them quietly over here. I don't know how many I can + supply, but at least, I think, a hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, how the devil—?” + </p> + <p> + “Go on; I haven't time to talk to you. Get busy!” + </p> + <p> + Working by flashlight, the men cut open the tins, dumped the biscuits on a + blanket spread in a corner of the cellar, while Barry made preparations + for a fire. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Hobbs, you punch two holes in these cans, just an inch from + the top.” + </p> + <p> + Soon the fire was blazing cheerily. In its light Barry was searching + through the ruin. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove,” he shouted, “the very thing. Just made for + us.” + </p> + <p> + He pulled out a long steel rod from a heap of rubbish and ran with it to + the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Here, boys, punch a hole in this wall. Now then, for the cans. + String them on this rod.” + </p> + <p> + In twenty minutes the coffee was ready. + </p> + <p> + “How is it?” he inquired anxiously, handing a mess tin full to + one of his men. + </p> + <p> + The boy tasted it. + </p> + <p> + “Like mother made,” he said, with a grin. “Gee, but it's + good.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the doctor appeared at the cellar door. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old chap,” he said, “there will be a riot here + in fifteen minutes. That coffee smells the whole camp.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring 'em along, doc. The sick chaps first. By Jove, here's + the sergeant major himself.” + </p> + <p> + “What's all this?” inquired the sergeant major in his + gruffest voice. “Who's responsible for this fire?” + </p> + <p> + “Coffee, sergeant major?” answered Barry, handing him a tin + full. + </p> + <p> + “But what—?” + </p> + <p> + “Drink it first, sergeant major.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant major took the mess tin and tasted the coffee. + </p> + <p> + “Well, this IS fine,” he declared, “and it's what + the boys want. But this fire is against orders, sir. I ought to have it + put out.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have it put out over my dead body, sergeant major,” + cried the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “And mine,” added Barry. + </p> + <p> + “By gad, we'll chance the zeps, sir,” said the sergeant + major. “This freezin' rain will kill more men than a bomb. + Bring in your men, sir,” he added to the M. O. “But I must see + the O. C.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant major's devotion to military discipline was struggling + hard with his humanity, which, under his rugged exterior, beat warm in his + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Why bother with the O. C.?” said the M. D. + </p> + <p> + “But I must see him,” insisted the sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + He had not far to go to attain his purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! What the devil is this?” exclaimed a loud voice at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “By gad, it's the old man himself,” muttered the M. O. + to Barry. “Now look out for ructions.” + </p> + <p> + In came the O. C., followed by a brass hat. Barry went forward with a + steaming tin of coffee. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry our china hasn't arrived yet, sir,” he said + cheerfully, “but the coffee isn't bad, the boys say.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's you, Dunbar,” said the colonel, peering into + his face, and shaking the rain drops from his coat. “I might have + guessed that you'd be in it. Where there's any trouble,” + he continued, turning to the brass hat at his side, “you may be + quite sure that the Pilot or the M. O. here will be in it. By Jove, this + coffee goes to the right spot. Have a cup, major?” he said as Barry + brought a second tin. + </p> + <p> + “It's against regulations, you know,” said the major, + taking the mess tin gingerly. “Fires are quite forbidden. Air raids, + and that sort of thing, don't you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it all, major,” cried the O. C. “The coffee is + fine, and my men will be a lot better for it. This camp of yours, anyway, + is no place for human beings, and especially for men straight off the + boat. As for me, I'm devilish glad to get this coffee. Give me + another tin, Pilot.” + </p> + <p> + “It's quite irregular,” murmured the major, still + drinking his coffee. “It's quite irregular! But I see the door + is fairly well guarded against light, and perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “I think we'll just carry on,” said the colonel. “If + there is any trouble, I'll assume the responsibility for it. Thank + you, Pilot. Just keep guard on the light here, sergeant major.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. Very good, sir, we will hang up a blanket.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the news had spread throughout the camp, and before many minutes + had passed the cellar was jammed with a crowd of men that reached through + the door and out into the night. The crowd was becoming noisy and there + was danger of confusion. Then the pilot climbed up on a heap of rubbish + and made a little speech. + </p> + <p> + “Men,” he called out, “this coffee is intended first of + all for the sick men in this battalion. Those sick men must first be cared + for. After that we shall distribute the coffee as far as it will go. There + is plenty of water outside, and I think I have plenty of coffee. Sergeant + major, I suggest that you round up these men in some sort of order.” + </p> + <p> + A few sharp words of command from the sergeant major brought order out of + confusion, and for two hours there filed through the cellar a continuous + stream of men, each bringing an empty mess tin, and carrying it away full + of hot and fragrant coffee. + </p> + <p> + By the time the men had been supplied the officers were finished with + their duties, and having got word of the Pilot's coffee stall, came + crowding in. One and all they were vociferous in their praise of the + chaplain, voting him a “good fellow” and a “life-saver” + of the highest order. But it was felt by all that Corporal Thom expressed + the general consensus of opinion to his friend Timms. “That Pilot of + ours,” he declared, “runs a little to the narrow gauge, but in + that last round up he was telling us about last Sunday there won't + be the goat run for him. It's him for the baa baas, sure enough.” + </p> + <p> + And though in the vernacular the corporal's words did not sound + quite reverent, it was agreed that they expressed in an entirely + satisfactory manner the general opinion of the battalion. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, wearied as he was, Barry crawled into his icy blankets, but + with a warmer feeling in his heart than he had known since he joined the + battalion. But before he had gone to sleep, there came into his mind a + thought that brought him up wide awake. He had quite forgotten all about + his duty as chaplain. “What a chance you had there,” insisted + his chaplain's conscience, “for a word that would really + hearten your men. This is their first night in France. To-morrow they + march up to danger and death. What a chance! And you missed it.” + </p> + <p> + Barry was too weary to discuss the matter further, but as he fell asleep + he said to himself, “At any rate, the boys are feeling a lot better,” + and in spite of his sense of failure, that thought brought him no small + comfort. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + THE NEW MESSAGE + </h3> + <p> + “I think,” said Barry, to the M. O., “I really ought to + ride down to the R. A. M. C. hospital, and tell them how the boys enjoyed + the coffee last night.” His face was slightly flushed, but the flush + might have been due to the fact that he had been busily engaged in tying + up the thongs of his bed-roll, an awkward job at times. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing,” agreed the M. O. heartily. “Indeed it's + absolutely essential, and say, old chap, you might tell her how I enjoyed + my coffee. She will be glad to hear about me.” + </p> + <p> + Barry heaved his bed-roll at the doctor and departed. + </p> + <p> + At the R. A. M. C. Hospital the Officer Commanding, to whom he had sent in + his card, gave him a cordial greeting. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to know you, sir. We have quite a lot of your chaps here + now and then, and fine fellows they seem to be. We expect a hospital train + this morning, and I understand there are some Canadians among them. Rather + a bad go a few days ago at St. Eloi. Heavy casualty list. Clearing + stations all crowded, and so they are sending a lot down the line.” + </p> + <p> + “Canadians?” asked Barry, thinking of his father. “You + have not heard what unit, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we only get the numbers and the character of the casualties and + that sort of thing. Well, I must be off. Would you care to look around?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, no. We are also on the march. I simply came to tell you + how very greatly our men appreciated your help last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's perfectly all right. Glad the sergeant had sense + enough to do the right thing.” + </p> + <p> + Barry hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “May I see—ah—the sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + “The sergeant? Why, certainly, but it's not necessary at all.” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant was called and duly thanked. The R. A. M. C. officer was + obviously anxious to be rid of his visitor and to get off to his duty. + </p> + <p> + Still Barry lingered. + </p> + <p> + “There was also a young lady, sir, last night,” he said at + length. + </p> + <p> + “A young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Sister Vincent, sir,” interjected the sergeant. “She + ran them up to the camp in her car, sir. The ambulances and cars were all + under orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Ran you up to the camp, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she ran us up with the biscuits and coffee. It was awfully + kind of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!—Um!—Very good! Very good! Sergeant, call her,” + said the O. C. abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid she'd be asleep now, sir. She was on night + duty, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then,” said Barry, “please don't disturb her. + I wouldn't think of it. If you will be kind enough, sir, to convey + the thanks of the men and of myself to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, surely! Well, I really must be going. Goodbye! Good luck!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to his motor car. “I won't forget, sir,” he + said to Barry. “Oh, I'll be sure to tell her,” he added + with a significant smile. + </p> + <p> + As Barry was mounting his horse, the strains of the battalion band were + heard floating down the street. He drew up his horse beside the entrance + and waited. Down the winding hill they came, tall, lean, hard-looking men, + striding with the free, easy swing of the men of the foothills. Barry felt + his heart fill with pride in his comrades. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove,” he said to himself, “the boys are all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Fine body of men, sir,” said the sergeant, who with his + comrades had gathered about the gateway. + </p> + <p> + “Not too bad, eh, sergeant?” said Barry, with modest pride. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the sergeant in a low voice, “the young lady + is up at the window to your left.” + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant, you're a brick! Thank you,” said Barry. He + turned in his saddle, and saw above him a window filled with smiling + nurses looking down at the marching column, and among them his friend of + the night before. Her face was turned away from him, and her eyes were + upon the column, eagerly searching the ranks of the marching men. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant,” said Barry, “your Commanding Officer is a + very busy man, and has a great many things to occupy his attention. Don't + you think it is quite possible that that message of mine might escape his + memory, and don't you think it would be really more satisfactory if + I could deliver that message in person?” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant tilted his hat over one eye, and scratched his head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, the Commanding Officer does 'ave a lot of things + to think about, and though he doesn't often forget, he might. + Besides, I really think the young lady would like to know just how the + coffee went.” + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant, you are a man of discernment. I'll just wait here + until the battalion passes.” + </p> + <p> + He moved his horse a few steps out from the gateway, and swung him around + so that he stood facing the window. The movement caught the attention of + the V. A. D. in the window. She glanced down, saw him, and, leaning far + out, waved her hand in eager greeting and with a smile of warm + friendliness. + </p> + <p> + He had only time to wave his hand in reply, when the head of the column + drew opposite the gateway, forcing him to turn his back to the window and + stand at salute. + </p> + <p> + The Commanding Officer acknowledged the salute, glanced up at the window, + waved his hand to the group of nurses there gathered, then glanced back at + Barry, with a smile full of meaning, and rode on. + </p> + <p> + After the band had passed the entrance, it ceased playing, and the men, + catching sight of Barry and the smiling group at the window above him, + broke softly into a rather suggestive music hall ditty, at that time + popular with the soldiers: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hello! Hello! Who's your lady friend; + Who's the little blossom by your side; + I saw you, with a girl or two, + Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm surprised at you.” + </pre> + <p> + Down the length of the column the refrain passed, gradually gaining in + strength and volume, until by the time the rear came opposite the + entrance, the men were shouting with wide open throats: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm surprised at you.” + </pre> + <p> + with a growing emphasis and meaning upon every successive “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Barry's face was aflame and his heart hot with furious indignation. + She was not that kind of a girl. She would be humiliated before her + associates. He glanced up at the window but she was gone. The battalion + marched on but Barry still remained, his eyes following the swinging + column, his face still flaming, and his heart hot with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Captain Dunbar!” + </p> + <p> + He swung off his horse, and there smiling at him with warm friendliness + was the little V. A. D. + </p> + <p> + “I'm awfully sorry,” began Barry, thinking of the + impudent song of his comrades. “I mean I'm very glad to see + you. I just ran in to tell you how splendidly the coffee went last night. + There are a hundred fellows marching along there that are fine and fit + just because of your kindness, and I'm here to give you their + thanks.” + </p> + <p> + Barry felt that he was cutting a rather poor figure. His words came + haltingly and stumblingly. The suggestive music hall ditty was still in + his mind. + </p> + <p> + “What a splendid band you have,” she said, “and how + splendidly the men sing.” + </p> + <p> + “Sing!” cried Barry indignantly. “Oh, yes, they do sing + rather well, don't they?” he added, greatly relieved. “I + have only a minute,” he added hurriedly, “but I wanted to see + you again, and I wonder if I may drop you a little note now and then, just + to—well, hang it all—just to keep in touch with you. I don't + want you to quite forget me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I won't forget you,” she said. The brown eyes + looked straight at him. “You see, after all, my uncle knows you so + well. Indeed, he told me about you. You see, we really are friends, in a + way, aren't we?” + </p> + <p> + “We are indeed, and you are awfully good. Goodbye!” + </p> + <p> + “Goodbye,” she said, “and if I leave here soon, I + promise to let you know.” + </p> + <p> + And Barry rode away, his heart in such a turmoil as he had never known. In + his ears lingered the music of that soft voice, and his eyes saw a + bewildering complexity of dancing ringlets and lustrous glances, until he + drew up at the rear of the column and found himself riding once more + beside his friend, the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “Congratulations, old man,” said the doctor. “She's + a blossom, all right. Cheer up; you may find her bending over your white + face some day, holding your hand, or smoothing your brow, in the approved + V. A. D. manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up, doc,” said Barry with quite unusual curtness. + “She's not that kind of a girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, who knows!” said the doctor. “Who knows!” + </p> + <p> + At the railway station, the battalion was halted, awaiting the making up + of their train, the departure of which was delayed by the incoming + hospital train from up the line. They had not long to wait. + </p> + <p> + “Here she is, boys!” called out a soldier. And into the + station slowly rolled that hospital train, with its freight of wounded + men, mutilated, maimed, broken. Its windows were crowded with faces, white + as their swathings, worn, spent, deep-lined, from which looked forth eyes, + indifferent, staring, but undaunted and indomitable. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, with stately movement, as befitted its noble burden, the train + came to rest immediately opposite the battalion. With grave, fascinated, + horror-stricken faces the men of the battalion stood rigid and voiceless + gazing at that deeply moving spectacle. Before their eyes were being + paraded the tragic, pathetic remnants of a gallant regiment, which but a + few weeks before had stood where they now stood, vital with life, tingling + with courage. At their country's bidding they had ascended that Holy + Mount of Sacrifice, to offer upon the altar of the world's freedom + their bodies as a living sacrifice unto God, holy and acceptable. Now, + their offering being made, they were being borne back helpless, bruised, + shattered but unconquered and eternally glorious. + </p> + <p> + Silently the two companies gazed at each other across the intervening + space. Then from the window of the train a soldier thrust a bandaged head + and bandaged arm. + </p> + <p> + “Hello there, Canada!” he cried, waving the arm. Instantly, as + if he had touched a hidden spring, from the battalion's thousand + throats there broke a roar of cheers that seemed to rock the rafters of + the station building. + </p> + <p> + Again, again, and yet again! As if they could never exhaust the burden of + their swelling emotions, they roared forth their cheers, waving caps and + rifles high in the air, while down their cheeks poured, unheeded and + unhindered, a rain of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Canada! Canada! Canada!” they cried. “Oh, you + Canadians! Alberta! Alberta!” + </p> + <p> + Feebly came the answering cheers, awkwardly waved the bandaged hands and + arms. + </p> + <p> + Then the battalion broke ranks and flinging rifles and kitbags to the + ground, they rushed across the tracks, eager to bring their tribute of + pride and love to their brothers from their own country, far across the + sea. + </p> + <p> + “Malcolm! Hello, Malcolm!” cried a voice from a window of the + train, as the noise had somewhat subsided. “Hey, Malcolm, here you + are!” cried a wounded man, raising himself from his cot to the + window. + </p> + <p> + Malcolm Innes turned, scanned the train, then rushed across the tracks to + the window and clung fast to it. + </p> + <p> + It was his brother, Ewen. + </p> + <p> + “Is it yourself, Ewen, and are you hurted bad?” cried the boy, + all unconscious of his breaking voice and falling tears. They clung + together for some little time in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Are you much hurted, Ewen? Tell me the God's truth,” + again said Malcolm. + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said Ewen. “True as death, I'm tellin' + you. My arm is broke, that's all. We had a bad time of it, but, man, + we gave them hell, you bet. Oh, it was great!” + </p> + <p> + Then again the silence fell between them. There seemed to be nothing to + say. + </p> + <p> + “Here, stand back there! You must get back, you know, men!” + </p> + <p> + An N. C. O. of the R. A. M. C. tried to push Malcolm back from the window. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you go to hell,” cried Malcolm fiercely. “It's + my brother I've got.” + </p> + <p> + The N. C. O., widely experienced in these tragic scenes, hesitated a + moment. An officer, coming up behind him, with a single glance took in the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” he said kindly, placing his hand on Malcolm's + arm, “we want to get these poor chaps as soon as possible where they + will be comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + Malcolm sprang back at once, saluting. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he said. “Certainly, sir.” And backing + across the tracks, stood looking across at the window from which his + brother, wearied with his effort, had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the R. A. M. C. were busy with their work. With marvellous + rapidity and speed the train was unloaded of its pathetic freight, the + carrying cases into ambulances and the walking cases into cars and wagons. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Mac,” called a voice as a car was driving off. It + was Ewen again. The wounded man spoke to the driver, who immediately + pulled up and swung over to the platform where Malcolm was standing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, are you sure, Ewen, you are goin' to be all right? Man, + you look awful white.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mac. You bet I will. It's only my arm,” said + Ewen, his brave, bright words in pathetic contrast to his white face. + </p> + <p> + At this point Barry came rushing along. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ewen! My poor fellow!” he cried, throwing his arm about + the wounded man's shoulder. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “My arm, sir,” said the boy, adding some words in a low tone. + “But I'm all right,” he said brightly. “You'll + write my mother, sir, and tell her? You'll know what to say.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I will. You'll be all right, old boy, God bless you! + Good luck, Ewen!” + </p> + <p> + Then leaning over the boy, he added in a low voice, “Remember you + are not all alone. God is with you. You won't forget that!” + </p> + <p> + “I won't, sir. I know it well,” said Ewen earnestly. + </p> + <p> + Most of the stretcher cases had been hurried away. Only a few of the more + seriously wounded remained. As Barry turned away from the car, he saw the + medical officer and sergeant major approaching him. + </p> + <p> + “A terrible business,” said Barry, in a horror-stricken voice. + “Splendid chaps. How plucky they are!” + </p> + <p> + The M. O. made no reply, but coming close to Barry, he put his arm through + his, the sergeant major taking him by the other arm. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Barry, old chap,” said the M. O. in a grave voice, + calling him for the first time by his first name. “There is some one + here that you know well.” + </p> + <p> + “Some one I know,” said Barry, standing still and looking from + one to the other. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir. Some one we all know and greatly respect,” replied + the sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + “Not—not—oh, not my father!” + </p> + <p> + The M. O. nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Bad, doctor? Not dying, doctor?” His face was white even in + spite of his tan. His hands closed about the doctor's arm in a grip + that reached to the bone. + </p> + <p> + “No, not dying, Barry, but in a bad way, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Take me,” muttered Barry, in a dazed way, and they moved + together rapidly across the platform. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, doctor,” said Barry, breathing hard. + </p> + <p> + They stood still, a silent and sympathetic group of soldiers about them. + Barry turned from them, walked a few steps, his clasped hands writhing + before him, then stood with his face uplifted to the sky for a few + moments. + </p> + <p> + “All right, doctor, I'll follow,” he said, coming + quietly back. “Will he know me?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, sir,” said the sergeant major cheerily. “He + was asking for you.” + </p> + <p> + On a stretcher, waiting to be lifted into the ambulance, he found his + father, lying white and still. + </p> + <p> + “Dad!” cried Barry, dropping to his knees beside him. He put + his arms around him on the stretcher, and kissed him on both cheeks and on + the lips. They all drew back from the stretcher and turned their backs + upon the two. + </p> + <p> + “Barry, my boy. Thank the good God! I feared I would not see you. It's + all right now. Everything is all right now. I can't put my arms + around you, boy. I haven't any left.” + </p> + <p> + Barry's shudder shook the stretcher. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, dad, oh, dad!” he whispered, over and over again. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” whispered his father. “We must + not forget we're soldiers. Help me to keep up, boy. I'm not + very strong.” + </p> + <p> + That pitiful word did for Barry what nothing else could do. He lifted his + head, stood up and drew a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, dad,” he said, in a clear, steady voice. “I + mustn't keep you.” + </p> + <p> + He motioned to the bearers. Then suddenly recollecting that his duty would + call him away from his father, he turned to the M. O., an agony of + supplication in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, doctor, must I leave him here?” he asked in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + Just then an orderly came running up to him, and, saluting, said: + </p> + <p> + “Sir, the Commanding Officer says you are to remain behind with your + father—till—till—” + </p> + <p> + “Until you are sent for,” said the M. O. “I will see to + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's the Commanding Officer?” cried Barry, starting + forward. + </p> + <p> + “He has gone off somewheres, sir. He was sorry he couldn't + come himself, but he was called away. He sent that message to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, will you remember to thank the Commanding Officer for me?” + he said briefly, and turned to follow his father into the ambulance, which + he discovered to be in charge of his friend, the sergeant of the R. A. M. + C. + </p> + <p> + At the hospital he was received with every mark of solicitous care. He was + made to feel that he was among friends. + </p> + <p> + “How long, doctor?” he asked, after the doctor had finished + his examination. + </p> + <p> + “Not long, I'm afraid. A few hours, perhaps a day. He will not + suffer though,” said the doctor. “But,” he added, taking + Barry by the arm, “he is very weak, remember, and must not be + excited.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, doctor,” said Barry, quietly. “I won't + worry him.” + </p> + <p> + Through the morning Barry sat by his father's cot, giving him, under + the directions of the nurse, such stimulants as he needed, now and then + speaking a quiet, cheery word. + </p> + <p> + Often his father opened his eyes and smiled at him. + </p> + <p> + “Good to see you there, my boy. That was my only grief. I feared I + might not see you again. Thank the good God that he allowed me to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “He is good, dad, isn't He? Good to me; good to us both.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, He is good,” said his father, and fell asleep. For + almost two hours he slept, a sleep of exhaustion, due to the terrific + strain of the past forty-eight hours, and woke refreshed, calm and strong. + </p> + <p> + “You are a lot better, dad,” said Barry. “I believe you + are going to pull through, eh!” + </p> + <p> + “A lot better, Barry,” said his father, “but, my boy, we + are soldiers, you and I. I shall not be long, but remember, we are + soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, dad. I'll try to play the game.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the word, Barry. We must play the game, and by God's + grace we will, you and I—our last game together.” + </p> + <p> + Through the afternoon they talked, between intervals of sleep, resolved + each to help the other in playing to the end, in the manner of British + soldiers, that last, great game. + </p> + <p> + They talked, of course, of home and their happy days together, going far + back into the earlier years of struggle on the ranch. + </p> + <p> + “Hard days, Barry, they were, but your mother never failed me. + Wonderful courage she had, and if we were all right, you and I, Barry, she + was always happy. Do you remember her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dad, quite well. I remember her smiling always.” + </p> + <p> + “Smiling, my God! Smiling through those days. Yes, that's the + way she played the game, and that's the only way, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dad,” said Barry, and his smile was brighter than ever, + but his knuckles showed white where he gripped the chair. + </p> + <p> + The nurse came and went, wondering at their bright faces and their cheery + voices. They kept their minds upon the old happy days. They recalled their + canoe trips, their hunting experiences, dwelling mostly upon the humorous + incidents, playing the game. Of the war they spoke little; not at all of + what was to be after—the past, the golden, happy past, rich in love + and in comradeship, that was their one theme. + </p> + <p> + As night fell, the father grew weary, and his periods of sleep grew + longer, but ever as he woke he found his son's face smiling down + upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Good boy, Barry,” he said once, with an understanding look + and an answering smile. “Don't try too hard, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, dad. I assure you it's all right. You + know it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know, my boy,” he said, and fell asleep again. + </p> + <p> + As the midnight hour drew on, Barry's head, from sheer weariness, + sunk upon his breast. In his sleep he became aware of some one near him. + He sat up, dazed and stupid from his exhaustion and his grief, and found a + nurse at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Take this,” she said softly. “You will need it.” + She set a tray at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you, no!” he said. “I can't eat. I can't + touch anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You need it,” said the nurse. “You must take it, for + his sake, you know. He will need you.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice aroused him. He glanced at her face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + It was the little V. A. D. + </p> + <p> + “Don't rise,” she said, putting her hand on his + shoulder, and pointing to his father. “Drink this first.” She + handed him an eggnog. “Now take your tea.” There was a quiet + authority about her that compelled obedience. He ate in silence while she + stood beside him. He was too weary and too sick at heart to talk, but he + gradually became aware that the overpowering sense of loneliness that had + been with him all day was gone. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his slight meal, he whispered to her: + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could thank you, but I can't. I did need it. You + have helped me greatly.” + </p> + <p> + “You are better now,” she said softly. “It's very, + very hard for you, so far from home, and from all your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no one else,” said Barry simply. “We have no + one but just ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + At this point his father opened his eyes bright and very wide-awake. + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. began to gather up the tea things. Barry put out his hand and + touched her arm. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, this is your night nurse. She was very kind to me last night, + and again to-night. This is Miss Vincent.” + </p> + <p> + The brightness of the V. A. D.'s smile outshone his own. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a real nurse,” she said. “I'm only + a V. A. D., you know. They use me to wash the floors and dishes, and for + all sorts of odd jobs. To-night they are shorthanded, and have put me on + this duty.” + </p> + <p> + While she was speaking, she continued to smile, a smile of radiant cheer + and courage. + </p> + <p> + The wounded man listened gravely to her, his eyes searching her face, her + eyes, her very soul, it seemed to her. In spite of her experience and her + self-control, she felt her face flushing under his searching gaze. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said at length, “I am glad to meet you. + You are a good and brave girl, I know.” His eyes fell upon the black + band upon her arm. “I see you are wearing the badge of heroism. My + dear, pardon me, you have the same look—Barry, she has your dear + mother's look, not so beautiful—you will forgive me, my dear—but + the same look. She thinks of others and she has courage to suffer. My + dear, I cannot take your hands in mine,”—he glanced with a + pathetic smile at his bandaged arms, but with a swift movement of + indescribable grace the girl stooped and kissed him on the forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” he said, turning to his son, “that was a fine + courtesy. I count it an honour to have known you, Miss Vincent.” + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment or two, his searching eyes still upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “You will befriend my boy, after—after—” + </p> + <p> + “I will try my best, sir,” said the girl, the colour deepening + in her cheeks the while. “Good night, sir,” she said. “I + shall be near at hand if I am wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” said his father, after the girl had gone, “that + is a very charming and a very superior young lady, one you will be glad to + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dad, I am sure she is,” said Barry, and then he told his + father of the events of the previous night. + </p> + <p> + For some moments after he had finished his father lay with his eyes shut, + and quite still, and Barry, thinking he slept, sat watching, his eyes + intent upon the face he loved best in all the world. + </p> + <p> + But his father was not asleep. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Barry,” he said, “she is like your dear mother, + and now,” he added hurriedly, “I hope you will not think I am + taking a liberty—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dad, I implore you!” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Barry, I would like to speak to you about your work.” + </p> + <p> + Barry shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not much good, dad,” he said, “but I'm + not going to quit,” he added quickly, noting a shadow on his father's + face. + </p> + <p> + “Barry, I'm going to say something to you which I do hope will + not hurt you. I know the common soldier better than you do, boy. Our + Canadian soldiers do not like to be rebuked, criticised or even watched + too closely. Forgive me this, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dad, please tell me all that is in your heart!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Barry. They don't like the chaplain to be a censor + over their words.” + </p> + <p> + “I loathe it,” said Barry passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, they are good chaps in their hearts. They swear and all + that, but that is merely a habit or a mere expression of high emotion. You + ought to hear them as they 'go over.' Barry, let all that pass + and remember that these boys are giving their lives—their lives, + Barry, for right, for conscience, and ultimately, though it may be + unconsciously, for God. Barry, a man that is giving his life for God may + say what he likes. Don't be too hard on them, but recall to mind, + Barry, that when they go up the line they feel terribly lonely and + terribly afraid, and that is a truly awful experience.” + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment or two, and then lowered his voice and continued: + “Barry, you won't be ashamed of me. I was terribly afraid, + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Barry choked back a convulsive sob. + </p> + <p> + “You, dad, you!” He laughed scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't run, Barry, thank God! But the boys—my boys—they + are only lads, many of them—lonely and afraid—and they must go + on. They must go on. Oh, Barry, in that hour they need some one to go with + them. They need God.” + </p> + <p> + His son was listening with his heart in his eyes. He was getting a new + view of the soldier and of the soldier's needs. + </p> + <p> + “Unhappily,” continued his father, “God is at best a + shadowy being, to many of them a stranger, to some a terror. Barry,” + he said, “they need some one to tell them the truth about God. It's + not fair to God, you know.” Here again his father paused and then + said very humbly: “I think I may say, Barry, I know God now, as I + did not before. And you helped me, boy, to know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dad,” cried Barry, passionately. “Not I! I don't + know Him at all!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you how you helped me, Barry. Before I went up the last + time, I wanted—” + </p> + <p> + He paused abruptly, his face working and his lip quivering. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, my boy. I'm a little weak.” + </p> + <p> + A few moments of silence and then he continued quietly: + </p> + <p> + “I wanted you, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + The boy's hands were writhing under his knees, but his face and eyes + were quite steady. + </p> + <p> + “I was terribly lonely. I thought of that strange, dear bond that + held us together, and then like a flash out of the sky came those great + words: 'Like as a father pitieth his children,' and oh, boy, + boy! It came to me then that as I feel toward my boy God feels toward me. + Barry, listen—” His voice fell to a whisper. “I am God's + son, as you are mine. There was no more fear, and I was not nearly so + lonely. Tell the boys—tell the boys the truth about God.” + </p> + <p> + He lay a long time silent, with his eyes closed, and as Barry watched he + saw two tears fall down the white cheeks. It was to him a terrible sight. + Never, not even at his mother's grave, had he seen his father's + tears. It was more than he could endure. He put his face down beside his + father's on the pillow. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, I understand,” he whispered. “I know now what God + is like. He is like you, dad. He gave himself for us, as you, dad, have + given yourself all these years for me.” + </p> + <p> + He was sobbing, but very quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, dad; I'm not crying. I'm just thinking + about God and you. Oh, dad, you are both wonderful! Wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “Barry, my boy, tell them. Don't worry yourself about them. + Just tell them about God. He is responsible for them, not you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will, dad; I promise you I will. I've been all wrong, + but I'll tell them. I'll tell them.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, my boy,” said his father, with a deep sigh. + “Now I'm tired. Say 'Our Father.'” + </p> + <p> + Together they whispered those greatest of words in human speech, those + words that have bound heaven to earth in yearning and in hope for these + two thousand years. + </p> + <p> + “Don't move, Barry,” whispered his father. “I like + you there.” + </p> + <p> + With their faces thus together they fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + Barry was awakened by his father's voice, clear and strong. + </p> + <p> + “Are you there, Barry?” it said. + </p> + <p> + “Here, dad, right here!” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy. Good boy. You won't leave me, Barry. I mean you don't + need to go?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dad, I'll never leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy,” again murmured his father softly. “Always a + good boy, always, always—” + </p> + <p> + He was breathing heavily, long deep breaths. + </p> + <p> + “Lift me up, Barry,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Barry sat on the bed, put his arm around his father's shoulders, and + lifted him up. + </p> + <p> + “That's better—hold me closer, Barry—You won't + hurt me—Oh, it's good—to feel—your arms—strong + arms—Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “You made them strong, dad,” said Barry, in a clear, steady + voice. + </p> + <p> + The father nestled his head upon his son's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” he said in the low tone of one giving a confidence, + “don't ever forget—to thank God—for these eighteen + years—together—You saved me—from despair—eighteen + years ago—when she went away—you know—and you have been—all + the world to me—my son—” + </p> + <p> + “And you to me, dad,” said his son in the same steady tone. + </p> + <p> + “I've tried all my life—to make you know—how I + love you—but somehow I couldn't—” + </p> + <p> + “But I knew, dad,” said Barry. “All my life I have + known.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” asked his father. “I—wonder—I don't + think—you quite know—Ah—my boy—my boy—You + don't—know—you—can't. Barry,” he said, + “I think—I'm going out—I'm going—out—no, + in—your word—my boy—in—eh—Barry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dad,” said his son. “Going in. The inner circle, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + “The—inner—circle—” echoed his father. + “Warmth—light—love—Now—I think—I'll + sleep—Good night—Barry—Oh—my boy,—you—don't + quite—know—Kiss me—Barry—” + </p> + <p> + Barry kissed him on the lips. + </p> + <p> + “So—Good—night—” + </p> + <p> + A deep breath he took; another—Barry waited for the next, but there + was not another. + </p> + <p> + He laid his father down and looked into his quiet face, touched even now + with the noble stateliness of death. He put his arms about the + unresponsive form, and his face to the cheek still warm. + </p> + <p> + “Dad, oh, dad,” he whispered. “Do you know—do you + know—Oh, God, tell him how I love him. Tell him! Tell him! I never + could.” + </p> + <p> + The little V. A. D. came softly and stood looking from a distance. Then + coming to the bedside, she laid her hand upon the head and then the heart + of the dead man. Then she drew back, and beckoning to an orderly, they + placed a screen about the cot. She let her eyes rest for a moment or two + upon the kneeling boy, then went softly away. + </p> + <p> + Death was to her an all too familiar thing. She had often seen it unmoved, + but to-night, as she walked away, the brown eyes could not hold their + tears. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + A MAN OF GOD + </h3> + <p> + Barry was standing beside his father's grave, in a little plot in + the Boulogne cemetery set apart for British officers. They had, one by + one, gone away and left him until, alone, he stood looking down on the + simple wooden cross on which were recorded the name, age, and unit of the + soldier with the date of his death, and underneath the simple legend, + eloquent of heroic sacrifice, “Died of wounds received in action.” + </p> + <p> + Throughout the simple, beautiful burial service he had not been acutely + conscious of grief. Even now he wondered that he could shed no tears. + Rather did an exultant emotion fill his soul as he looked around upon the + little British plot, with its rows of crosses, and he was chiefly + conscious of a solemn, tender pride that he was permitted to share that + glorious offering which his Empire was making for the saving of the world. + But, in this moment, as he stood there alone close to his father's + grave, and surrounded by those examples of high courage and devotion, he + became aware of a mighty change wrought in him during these last three + days. He had experienced a veritable emancipation of soul. He was as if he + had been born anew. + </p> + <p> + The old sense of failure in his work, the feeling of unfitness for it, and + the old dread of it, had been lifted out of his soul, and not only was he + a new man, but he felt himself to be charged with a new mission, because + he had a new message for his men. No longer did he conceive himself as a + moral policeman or religious censor, whose main duty it was to stand in + judgment over the faults and sins of the men of his battalion. No more + would the burden of his message be a stern denunciation of these faults + and sins. Standing there to-day, he could only wonder at his former + blindness and stupidity and pride. + </p> + <p> + “Who am I,” he said in bitter self-humiliation, “that I + should judge my comrades? How little I knew myself.” + </p> + <p> + “A man of God,” his superintendent had said in his last letter + to him. Yes, truly a man of God! A MAN not God! A MAN not to sit in God's + place in judgment upon his fellow sinners, but to show them God, their + Father. + </p> + <p> + Barry thought of the frequent rebukes he had administered to the officers + and men for what he considered to be their sins. He groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + “God will forgive me, I know,” he said. “But will they?” + </p> + <p> + He tried to recall what the burden of his message to his battalion had + been during these past months, but to him there came no clear and distinct + memory of aught but warnings and denunciations, with reference to what he + judged to be faulty in their conduct. To-day it seemed to him both sad and + terrible. + </p> + <p> + How had he so failed and so misconceived the Master's plain + teaching? He moved among sinners all His days, not with denunciations in + His heart or voice, but only with pity and love. + </p> + <p> + “Be not anxious,” He had said. “Consider the birds of + the air. Not one of them falleth to the ground without your Father. How + much more precious are you than the birds.” + </p> + <p> + What a message for men going up to face the terrors and perils of the + front line. “Be not anxious!” + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid,” his father had said to him. That to him was + inconceivable. That that gallant spirit should know terror seemed to him + impossible. Yet even he had said, “I was afraid.” And for the + loneliness, what a message he now had. In their loneliness men cried out + for the presence of a friend, and the Master had said: + </p> + <p> + “When ye pray, pray to your Father. Your Father knoweth. When ye + pray, say, 'Our Father'!” And he had missed all this. + What a mess he had made of his work! How sadly misread his Master's + teaching and misinterpreted his Master's spirit! + </p> + <p> + Barry looked down upon the grave at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “But you knew, dad, you knew!” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + For the first time since he had become a chaplain, he thought of his work + with gratitude and eagerness. He longed to see his men again. He had + something to tell them. It was this: that God to them was like their + fathers, their mothers, their brothers, their friends; only infinitely + more loving, and without their faults. + </p> + <p> + With his head high and his feet light upon the earth, he returned to the + R. A. M. C. Hospital, where he found Harry Hobbs, with his handbag and a + letter from his O. C. + </p> + <p> + “Take a few days off,” said the O. C. “We all sympathise + with you. We miss you and shall be glad to see you, but take a few days + now for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Barry was greatly touched, but he had only one desire now, and that was to + return to his unit. His batman brought him also an order from the + Assistant Director of Chaplain Service bidding him report at the earliest + moment. + </p> + <p> + At Headquarters he learned that the A. D. C. S. had been in Boulogne, but + had gone to Etaples, some thirty or forty miles distant, to visit the + large hospitals there. He determined that to-morrow he would go to Etaples + and report, after which he would proceed to his battalion. + </p> + <p> + That evening, he visited the men in the hospital, coming upon many + Canadians whose joy in seeing a chaplain from their own country touched + Barry to the heart. He took their messages which he promised to transmit + to their folks at home, and left with them something of the serene and + exultant peace that filled his own soul. + </p> + <p> + From Ewen Innes and others of the Wapiti draft, he learned something of + his father's work and place in their battalion. Soldiers are not + eloquent in speech, but mostly in silence. Their words halted when they + came to speak of their sergeant major's soldierly qualities,—for + his father had become the sergeant major of the battalion—his + patience, his skill, his courage. + </p> + <p> + “He knew his job, sir,” said one of them. “He was always + onto it.” + </p> + <p> + “It was his care of his men that we thought most of,” said + Ewen, who continued to relate incidents that had come under his own + observation of this characteristic, tears the while flowing down his + cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “He never thought of himself, sir. It was our comfort first. He was + far more than our sergeant major. He watched us like a father; that's + what he did.” + </p> + <p> + As Barry listened to the soldiers telling of his father in broken words, + and with flowing tears, he almost wondered at them for their tears and + wondered at himself that he had none. Tears seemed to be so much out of + place in telling such a tale as that. + </p> + <p> + The train for Etaples leaving at an unearthly hour in the morning, Barry + went to take farewell of the V. A. D. the night before. + </p> + <p> + “That is an awfully early hour,” she said, “and, oh, + such a wretched train.” There was in her voice an almost maternal + solicitude for his comfort. + </p> + <p> + “That's nothing,” said Barry. “When I see you here + at your unending work, it makes me feel more and more like a slacker.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait for me here a moment,” she said, and hurried away to + return shortly in such a glow of excitement as even her wonted calm and + self-restraint could not quite hide. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to drive you to Etaples to-morrow in my car. I know + the matron and some of the nurses in the American hospital there.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean it,” said Barry, “but are you sure + it's not a terrible bore for you? I am much afraid that I have been + a nuisance to you, and you have been so very, very good to me.” + </p> + <p> + “A bore!” she cried, and the brown eyes were wide open in + surprise. “A bore, and you a Canadian! Why, you are one of my + brothers' friends, and besides you seem to me a friend of our + family. My uncle Howard, you know, told me all about you. Besides,” + she added in a voice of great gentleness, “you remember, I promised.” + </p> + <p> + Barry caught her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could tell you all I feel about it, but somehow I can't + get the words.” + </p> + <p> + She allowed her hand to remain in his for a moment or two; then + withdrawing it, said hurriedly, with a slight colour showing in her + cheeks: + </p> + <p> + “I think I understand.” Then changing her tone abruptly, and + dropping into the business-like manner of a V. A. D., she said, “So, + we'll go to-morrow. It will be a splendid run, if the day is fine. + We had better start by nine o'clock to give us a long day.” + Then, as if forgetting she was a V. A. D., she added with a little catch + in her voice, “Oh, I shall love it!” + </p> + <p> + The day proved to be fine,—one of those golden days of spring that + have given to the land its name of “sunny France.” It was a + day for life and youth and hope. A day on which war seemed more than ever + a cruel outrage upon humanity. But across the sunniest days, across the + shining face of France, and across their spirits, too, the war cast its + black shadow. They both, however, seemed to have resolved that for that + day at least they would turn their eyes from that shadow and let them rest + only where the sun was shining. + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. with her mind intent upon her wheel could only contribute, as + her share in the conversation, descriptive and somewhat desultory comments + upon points of interest along the way. Barry, because it harmonised with + his mood, talked about his father and all their years together but ever + without obtrusion of his grief. The experiences of the past three days, + which they had shared, seemed to have established between them a sense of + mutual confidence and comradeship such as in ordinary circumstances would + have demanded years of companionship to effect. This sense of sympathy and + of perfect understanding on the part of the girl at his side, together + with the fascinating charm of her beauty, and her sweetness, was to Barry's + stricken heart like a healing balm to an aching wound. + </p> + <p> + They were in sight of Etaples before Barry imagined they could have made + more than half the journey. + </p> + <p> + “Etaples, so soon! It cannot be!” + </p> + <p> + “But it is,” said the girl, throwing a bright smile at him, + “and that's the hospital, on the hill yonder, where the flag + is flying.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” exclaimed Barry, “that's the American flag! + What's the American flag doing there?” + </p> + <p> + “It's flying over an American hospital,” said the V. A. + D. “I think it's such a beautiful flag. In the breeze, it + seems to me the most beautiful of all the flags. The stripes seem to flow + out from the stars. Of course,” she added hurriedly, “the + Union Jack with all its historic meaning and its mingled crosses, is + splendidly glorious and is more decorative, but I always think, when I see + those floating stripes, that the Americans have the most beautiful flag.” + </p> + <p> + “I admit,” said Barry, “it's a beautiful flag, but—well, + I'm a Britisher, I suppose, and see it with British eyes. But why is + that flag flying here in France? How do the authorities allow that? It's + a neutral flag—awfully neutral, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand they have permission from the French authorities to + fly that flag over every American institution in France. And you know,” + continued the girl with rising enthusiasm, “if they are neutral, + they have immensely helped us, too, haven't they?—in munitions + and that sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true enough,” agreed Barry, “and it's + all the more wonderful when you think of the millions of Germans that they + have in their country. I heard a very fine thing, not long ago, from a + friend of mine. A Pittsburgh oil man about to close a deal, with a + traveller, with millions in it, suddenly discovered that his oil was to go + to the Germans. At once the deal was off, and, though the price was + considerably raised, there was, in his own words, 'Nothing 'doing!' + 'No stuff of mine,' he said, 'shall go to help an enemy + of the Anglo-Saxon race.' That's the way I believe the real + Americans feel.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a wonderful hospital,” said the V. A. D. “Whenever + I see it, I somehow feel my heart grow warm to the American people for the + splendid way in which they have helped poor France, for, you know, in the + first months of the war, the French hospitals were perfectly ghastly.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know!” cried Barry. “And the Canadians, too, + have chipped in a bit. We have a Canadian hospital in Paris, for the + French, and others are being organised.” + </p> + <p> + They turned in at the gate and found themselves in a beautiful quadrangle, + set out with grass plots and flowers and cement walks. The building + itself, an ancient royal palace, had been enlarged by means of + sun-parlours and porches which gave it an air of wonderful cheeriness and + brightness. + </p> + <p> + “I will run in and see if any of my friends are about,” said + the V. A. D. “Wait here for me. Unless you care to come in,” + she added. + </p> + <p> + “No, I will wait here. I don't just feel like meeting + strangers but, if there are Canadians in the hospital, I should like to + see them. And perhaps you can discover where my chief can be found, if you + don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had she passed within the door, when another car came swiftly to + the gate and drew up a little in front of Barry's. A girl leaped + from the wheel and with a spring in her step, which spoke of a bounding + vitality, ran up the steps. + </p> + <p> + What thought caught her it is difficult to say, but on the topmost step + she spun around and looked straight into Barry's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Paula!” he shouted, and was out of the car and at the foot of + the steps, with hand outstretched, when, with a single touch of her foot + to the steps, she was at him, with both hands reaching for his. + </p> + <p> + “Barry, oh, Barry! It can't be you!” she panted. Her + face went red, then white, then red again. “Oh, it's better + than a drink to see you. Whence, how, why, whither? Oh, never mind + answering,” she went on. “It's enough to see you.” + </p> + <p> + A step behind her diverted her attention from Barry. Barry ran up the + steps, and taking the V. A. D. by the hand, led her down. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to meet a friend of mine,” he said and introduced + Paula. + </p> + <p> + Paula's eyes, keen as a knife-point, were upon the V. A. D.'s + face. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to know you,” she said frankly, offering her + hand. “Principally,” she added, with a little laugh, “because + you know Barry.” + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. bowed with the slight reserve characteristic of her, and took + Paula's hand. + </p> + <p> + “I, too, am pleased,” she said, “to meet a friend of + Captain Dunbar.” Then she added with increased cordiality, “and + I'm glad to meet an American in France. I know your matron, and some + of the nurses.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” cried Paula. “Now, then, you'll both of + you take lunch with me.” + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. demurred. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you will,” cried Paula. “Oh, Barry, I'm + just ready to die from seeing you again. Come along!” she cried, + impulsively, catching the V. A. D. by the arm. “Come along and park + your buzzwagon here beside mine.” + </p> + <p> + She ran to her car, sprang in and whirled it into place before the V. A. + D. had hers well started. + </p> + <p> + Barry waited where they had left him. The sudden appearing of Paula had + stirred within him depths of feeling that almost overpowered him. His mind + was far away in Athabasca, once more he was seeing the dark pool, the + swiftly flowing water, the campfire, and his father bending over it. His + heart was quivering as if a hand had been rudely thrust into a raw wound + in it. + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. held Paula a few moments beside her car, speaking quickly and + earnestly. When they rejoined Barry, Paula's eyes were soft with + unshed tears, and her voice was very gentle. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Barry,” she said. “Miss Vincent just told me. + Oh, what terrible changes this war brings to us all. We see so many sad + things here every day. It's terribly sad for you, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is sad, Paula, and it is going to be lonely. You have + brought back to me that bright day on the Athabasca. But,” he added + earnestly, “after all, in this war everything personal is so small. + Besides, he was so splendid, you know, and the boys told me he played the + game up there right to the end. So I'm not going to shame him; at + least, I'm trying not to.” + </p> + <p> + But bright as was Barry's smile, Paula caught the quivering of his + lips, and turned quickly away from him. + </p> + <p> + After a moment or two of silence, she cried, with her old impulsiveness, + “Now you will both lunch with me. I'm the quartermaster of + this outfit, and have a small parlour of my own. We shall have a lovely, + cosy time, just Miss Vincent, you and myself together.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” replied the V. A. D., “I have just arranged with + the matron to lunch with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rubbish! I'll cut that out, all right. What's the + use of being quartermaster if I can't arrange a lunch party to suit + myself?” + </p> + <p> + Still the V. A. D. demurred. With her, breaking an engagement for lunch + was a serious affair—was indeed taking a liberty which no English + girl would think of doing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's nonsense!” cried Paula. “I'll + make it perfectly all right. Look here,” she cried, wheeling upon + the V. A. D., “you Britishers are so terribly correct. I'll + show you a little shirtsleeve diplomacy. Besides, if you don't come + in on this you can have the matron, and I'll take Barry,” she + said with a threatening smile. “Watch me!” she added, as she + ran away. + </p> + <p> + “What a splendid girl!” said the V. A. D. “And that + captivating American way she has. Perfectly ripping, I call it. I do hope + we shall be friends.” + </p> + <p> + In a short time Paula came rushing back into the room, announcing + triumphantly that arrangements had been made according to her programme, + with the matron in hearty accord. + </p> + <p> + “And she sends her love,” she said to the V. A. D. “She + would not have you on any account miss this party. She is desperately + grieved that she cannot accept my invitation to join us. Of course, I knew + the old dear couldn't. And we are to meet her afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + The little lunch party was, on the whole, a success. To the conversation + Paula contributed the larger part, Barry doing his best to second her. But + in spite of his heroic efforts, his mind would escape him, far away to the + sunny Athabasca plains, and the gleaming river and the smooth slipping + canoe, and then with swift transition to the little British plot in the + cemetery at Boulogne. + </p> + <p> + At such times, Paula, reading his face, would momentarily falter in her + gay talk, only to begin again with renewed vivacity. On one topic, + however, she had no difficulty in holding Barry's attention. It was + when she told of the organising and despatching of the American Red Cross + units to France, and more especially of her own unit, organised and + financed by her father. + </p> + <p> + “I am awfully sorry he is not here to-day. He would have loved to + have seen you again, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “And I to have seen him,” said Barry. “He is a big man, + and it is fine of him to do this thing. It's just like the big, + generous-hearted Americans—they are so unstinted in their + sympathies, and they back them up for all they are worth.” + </p> + <p> + “And how efficient they are,” added the V. A. D. in warm + admiration. “This hospital, you know,” turning to Barry, + “is perfectly wonderful. Its equipment! Its appliances! I have often + heard our O. C. speak in the most rapturous envy of the Etaples American + Red Cross unit.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should not it be?” cried Paula. “It's a + question of money after all. We are not at war. We put in a few little + hospitals here in France. We have more money thrown at us than we can use. + And you talk about efficiency,” she added, turning to the V. A. D. + “Good Lord! My pater has just come back from London, where he was + rubbering around with lords and dukes and things in a disgustingly + un-American way I told him, and now he raves from morning until night over + the efficiency of the British. He's been allowed to see some of + their munition works, you know. I simply had to declaim the American + Declaration of Independence to him three times a day to revive his + drooping Democratic sentiments, and I had to sew Old Glory on to his + pajamas so that he might dream proper American dreams. No, to tell you the + truth,” here Paula's voice took a deeper note, “every + last American of us here in France is hot with humiliation and rage at his + country's attitude,—monkeying with those baby-killing, + woman-raping devils.” + </p> + <p> + As she ended, her voice shook with passion, her cheeks were pale, and in + her eyes shone two bright tears. Impulsively the V. A. D. rose from her + place, ran around to Paula, and putting her arm around her neck, said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do thank you, and I love you for your words,” while + Barry stood at attention, as if in the presence of his superior officer. + “I salute you,” he said with grave earnestness. “You + worthily represent your brave and generous people.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, darn it all!” cried Paula, brushing away her tears. + “I'm a fool, but you don't know how we Americans feel—real + Americans, I mean, not the yellow hyphenated breed.” + </p> + <p> + After lunch, Barry went to look up his chief, the assistant director of + chaplain service, while Paula took charge of the V. A. D., saying: + </p> + <p> + “Run away, Barry, and see your Brass Hat. I'll show Miss + Vincent how a quartermaster's department of a real hospital should + be run.” + </p> + <p> + His hour with the A. D. C. S. was a most stimulating experience for Barry. + He found himself at once in touch with not an official thinking in terms + of military regulations and etiquette, but a soldier and a man. For the A. + D. C. S. was both. Through all the terrible days at Ypres, where the + Canadians, in that welter of gas and fire and blood, had won their + imperishable fame as fighting men, he had been with them, sharing their + dangers and ministering to their wants with his brother officers of the + fighting line. Physically an unimpressive figure, small and slight, yet he + seemed charged with concentrated energy waiting release. + </p> + <p> + As Barry listened to his words coming forth in snappy, jerking phrases, he + was fascinated by the bulldog jaw and piercing eyes of the little man. In + brief, comprehensive, vigorous sentences, he set forth his ideals for the + chaplain service in the Canadian army. + </p> + <p> + “Three things,” he said, “I tell my men, should mark the + Canadian chaplain service. The first, Unity—unity among themselves, + unity with the other departments of the army. Two words describe our + chaplains—Christian and Canadians. I am an Anglican myself, but on + this side of the channel there are no Anglican, no Presbyterian, no + Methodist chaplains, only Christian and Canadian chaplains. I have had to + fight for this with high officials both in the army and in the church. I + have won out, and while I'm here this will be maintained. The second + thing is Spirituality. The Chaplain must be a Christian man, living in + touch with the Divine—alive toward God. Third, Humanity. He must be + 'touched with the feeling of our infirmity,' sharing the + experiences of the men, getting to know their feelings, their fears, their + loneliness, their misery, their anxieties, and God knows they have their + anxieties for themselves and for their folks at home.” + </p> + <p> + As Barry listened, he heard again his father's voice. “They + need you. They are afraid. They are lonely. They need God.” + </p> + <p> + “And remember,” said the A. D. C. S., as he rose to close the + interview, “that I am at your back. If you have any difficulty, let + me know. If you are wrong, I promise to tell you. If you are right, I'll + back you up. Now, let us go and look over the hospital. There are some of + our fellows there. If you feel like saying anything in the convalescent + ward, all right, but don't let it worry you.” + </p> + <p> + As they went through the wards, Barry could not but notice how the faces + of the patients brightened as his chief approached, and how their eyes + followed him after he had passed. + </p> + <p> + They moved slowly through those long corridors, sanctified by the + sufferings and griefs and hidden tears of homesick and homelonging men, to + many of whom it seemed that the best of life was past. + </p> + <p> + When they had gone the length of the convalescent ward, the A. D. C. S. + turned and, after getting permission of the medical superintendent, + briefly introduced Barry to the wounded men, as “a man from the wild + and woolly Canadian west, on his way up the line, and therefore competent + to tell us about the war, and especially when it will end.” + </p> + <p> + Beside them stood a piano, and on it lay a violin in its open case. Barry + took up the violin, fingered its strings in an absent-minded way, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “I don't know anything about the war, men, but I do know when + it will end, and that is when we lick those Huns good and plenty, as our + American friends would say,” bowing to the doctor at his side. + “I'm an awfully poor speaker, boys,” he continued in a + confidential tone, “but I can make this thing talk a bit.” + </p> + <p> + Without further preface he began to play. He had not held a violin in his + hands since he had played with his father at home. Unconsciously his + fingers wandered into the familiar notes of Handel's Largo. He found + the violin to possess an exceptionally rich and pure quality of tone. + </p> + <p> + As he began to play, a door opened behind them, admitting Paula, the V. A. + D. and two or three young doctors, who took their places in the corner + about the piano. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know this?” whispered Paula to the V. A. D., as she + caught the strains of the Largo. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I used to play it with my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to it, then,” said Paula. + </p> + <p> + But the V. A. D. hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Go on! Look at the boys, and look at his face.” + </p> + <p> + The V. A. D. glanced about the room at the lines of pale and patient + faces, which, in spite of the marks of pain, were so pathetically and + resolutely bright. Then she glanced at Barry's face. He had + forgotten all about his surroundings, and his face was illumined with the + light from those hidden lamps that burn deep in the soul of genius, a + light enriched and warmed by the glow of a heart in sympathy with its + kind. + </p> + <p> + In obedience to Paula's command and a little push upon her shoulder, + the V. A. D. sat down at the piano and touched the notes softly, feeling + for the key, then fell in with the violin. + </p> + <p> + At the first note, Barry turned sharply about and as she found her key and + began to follow, he stepped back to her side. Immediately, from his + instrument, there seemed to flow a richer, fuller stream of melody. From + the solemn and stately harmonies of the Largo, he passed to those old + familiar airs, that never die and never lose their power over the human + heart—“Annie Laurie” and “Ben Bolt,” and + thence to a rollicking French chanson, which rather bowled over his + accompanist, but only for the first time though, for she had the rare gift + of improvisation, and sympathetic accompaniment. + </p> + <p> + Then with a full arm bowing, he swept them into the fiercely majestic + strains of the “Marseillaise,” bringing the blue-coated + orderlies about the door, and such patients as could stand, and the group + about the piano to rigid attention. From the “Marseillaise” it + was easy to pass into the noble simplicity of his own national song, + “Oh, Canada!” where again his accompanist was quite able to + follow, and thence to the Empire's National Anthem, which had for a + hundred years or more lifted to their feet British soldiers and sailors + the world over. + </p> + <p> + As he drew his bow over the last chord, Paula stepped to his side, and + whispered in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Where's America in this thing?” + </p> + <p> + Without an instant's break in the music, he dropped into a whimsical + and really humorous rendering of “Yankee Doodle.” Quickly the + V. A. D. moved from the stool, caught Paula and thrust her into the vacant + place. Then together the violin and piano rattled into a fantastic and + brilliant variation of that famous and trifling air. Again, with a sudden + change of mood, Barry swung into that old song of the homesick plantation + negro, “The Suwanee River”—a simple enough air, but + under the manipulations of a master lending itself to an interpretation of + the deep and tender emotions which in that room and in that company of + French, British, Canadian, American folk were throbbing in a common + longing for the old home and the “old folks at home.” Before + he had played the air once through, the grey-haired American doctor was + openly wiping his eyes, and his colleagues looking away from each other, + ashamed of the tears that did them only honour. + </p> + <p> + Paula's flushed face and flashing eyes were eloquent of her deep + emotion, while at her side the V. A. D. stood quiet, controlled, but with + a glow of tender feeling shining in her face and in her soft brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + Not long did Barry linger amid those deeps of emotion, but straightening + his figure to its full height, and throwing up his head, he, in full + octaves, played the opening bars of what has come to be known as America's + national anthem, “The Star Spangled Banner.” + </p> + <p> + Instantly the A. D. C. S., the orderlies about the door, the wounded + French, British and Canadian soldiers that could stand, sprang to + attention and so remained while the violin, with its piano accompaniment, + throbbed forth the sonorous chords. With the last bar, Barry dropped his + bow to his side, but held the violin still at his chin. Not one of that + company moved, but stood with their eyes fastened upon his face. After a + moment's pause, he quietly lifted his bow again, and on the silence, + still throbbing to the strains of that triumphant martial air, there stole + out pure, sweet, as from some ethereal source, the long drawn, trembling + notes of that old sacred melody, which, sounding over men and women in + their hours of terror and anguish and despair, has lifted them to peace + and comfort and hope—“Nearer, My God, to Thee.” + </p> + <p> + The tension which had held the company was relaxed, the wounded men sank + to their seats, the A. D. C. S. removed his hat, which, according to + military regulations, he had worn to this moment. On all sides, heads + dropped in an attitude of reverence, and so continued until Barry had + drawn the last deep, vibrating note to a close. + </p> + <p> + When he had laid his violin in its case, the old American doctor came + forward, with his hand extended. + </p> + <p> + “Let me, as an American and a Christian, thank you, sir,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + One by one the group of Americans came to shake hands with him, the last + being Paula, who held his hand a moment and said softly: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Barry. I believe all that stuff now. I have learned it + here.” + </p> + <p> + The last of all to come was the V. A. D. Shyly, with a smile radiant + through her tears, she offered her hand, saying: “Thank you! He + would have liked that, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar, where's your own violin?” The abrupt + tone of the A. D. C. S. startled them all. + </p> + <p> + “At home, sir. I didn't think a chaplain would need one.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose violin in this?” asked the A. D. C. S. in his brusque + manner. + </p> + <p> + “I rather think this is mine,” said one of the doctors. + </p> + <p> + “Will you sell it? I'll buy it from you, at any price you say. + I want it for him.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't buy it, colonel,” said the doctor. “It's + his now. I never knew it had all that heart stuff in it.” + </p> + <p> + He took up the violin, and handed it to Barry. But Barry drew back in + astonishment. Then the old doctor came forward. + </p> + <p> + “No, Travis,” he said, “we'll do better than that. + What did your fiddle cost?” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred and fifty dollars, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Travis, this company of Americans, representing their country here + in France, as a token of their sympathy with the allies and their sacred + cause, and of gratitude to you, sir,” bowing to Barry, “will + buy this instrument and present it to this young man, on condition that he + repeat in similar circumstances the service he has rendered this + afternoon. Am I right?” he asked, looking about him. + </p> + <p> + “You bet you are! Right you are!” said the doctors. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, doctor, you are a dear old thing!” exclaimed Paula. + </p> + <p> + Barry stood holding the instrument in his hand, unable to find his voice. + The A. D. C. S. came to his aid. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of my chaplain, and in the name of thousands of + Canadian soldiers to whom I promise you he will bring the blessing that he + has brought us this afternoon, I thank you for this very beautiful and + very characteristic American act.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the old doctor, “I don't know how you + folks feel, but I feel as if I had been to church.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” said the A. D. C. S. to Barry, in his military + tone, “I am organising a company of musicians who will go through + our camps and help the boys as you have helped us to-day. I would like you + to be one of them. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” exclaimed Barry hastily, laying the violin upon the + piano and standing back from it, “don't make that an order, + sir. I want to stay with my men.” + </p> + <p> + His face was quivering with deep emotion. The A. D. C. S. looked into the + quivering face. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Dunbar,” he said, with a little laugh, and putting + his hand on Barry's shoulder. “I guess you are all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Some boy! What?” said the American doctor. “Here I + think you had better take your fiddle along,” handing Barry the + violin. “It doesn't belong to any one in this bunch.” + </p> + <p> + The burst of laughter that followed, all out of proportion to the humour + of the remark, revealed the tensity of the strain through which they had + passed. + </p> + <p> + Through the little town of Etaples they drove together in almost complete + silence, until they had emerged into the country, lying spread out about + them in all the tender beauty of the soft spring evening. As the car moved + through the sweet silence of the open fields, the V. A. D. said softly: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Dunbar, I—” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Barry,” he said gently. + </p> + <p> + A quick flush came into the beautiful face and a soft light to the brown + eyes, as she answered: + </p> + <p> + “And mine is Phyllis.” Then she hurried to add, “I was + going to say that you helped me this afternoon as nothing has since my + dear brothers went.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Phyllis. What you have been to me through all these + days, I wish I could tell, but I can't find words.” + </p> + <p> + Then they rode together in silence that was more eloquent than any words + of theirs could be. At length Barry burst forth enthusiastically: + </p> + <p> + “Those Americans! What a beautiful and gracious act of kindness that + was to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” replied Phyllis, with answering enthusiasm, “aren't + they fine! That was perfectly ripping of them.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + INTENSIVE TRAINING + </h3> + <p> + Barry's return to the battalion was like a coming home. In the mess + there was no demonstration of sympathy with him in his loss, but the + officers took occasion to drop in casually with an interesting bit of + news, seeking to express, more or less awkwardly, by their presence what + they found it impossible to express in actual words. + </p> + <p> + It was to Barry an experience as new as it was delightful. Hitherto, as + far as any real fellowship was concerned he had lived a life of + comparative isolation among his fellow officers, and while they were + careful to preserve the conventions and courtesies imposed by their mutual + relations, he had ever been made to feel that in that circle he was an + outsider. + </p> + <p> + Among the officers who came to call upon him, none surprised him more than + did Major Bayne. While that officer had always been careful to maintain an + attitude toward him, at once correct and civil, there had never been any + approach to friendliness. As a matter of fact, Major Bayne was too + entirely occupied with his own interests to have either the leisure or the + inclination for anything but a casual concern for the chaplain and his + affairs. That was not to be wondered at. Life in the army, notwithstanding + all its loyalties and its fine unselfishnesses, is, in some of its phases, + a brutally self-centred form of existence. Its routine consists in the + continual performance of “duties” under an authority ruthless + in its exactions and relentless in its penalties. Only after months of + experience of its iron rigidity does the civilian, accustomed as he is to + self-determination, with a somewhat easygoing regard for the conventions + of his community, arrive at the state of mind in which unconsciously and + as a matter of second nature he estimates the quality of the most trivial + act by its relation to the standard set by the Military High Command. Like + a spectre does that solemn, impalpable, often perfectly unreasonable + omniscient and omnipotent entity lurk in the shadow ready to reach out a + clutching hand, and for some infraction of regulations, wilful or + inadvertent, hale the luckless and shivering defaulter to judgment. It + therefore behooves a man to take heed to himself and to his ways, for, + with the best intention, he may discover that he has been guilty of an + infraction, not of a regulation found in K. R. & O., with which he has + painfully made himself familiar and which he has diligently exercised + himself to observe, but of one of those seventeen hundred and sixty-nine + “instructions” and “informations” which from time + to time have appeared in those sacred writings known as Army, Divisional, + Brigade, or Battalion Orders. + </p> + <p> + In consequence, an officer with a conscience toward his duty, or an + ambition for promotion, gives himself so completely to the business of + “watching his step” that only by a definite exercise of his + altruistic faculties can he indulge himself in the commendable civilian + luxury of caring for his neighbour. + </p> + <p> + And so it came about that Major Bayne, possessing in a large measure the + quality of “canniness” characteristic of his race—a + quality which for the benefit of the uninitiated Saxon it may be necessary + to define as being a judicious blending of shrewdness and caution,—and + being as well, again after the manner of his race, ambitious for his own + advancement, and, furthermore, being a man of conscience, had been so + entirely engrossed in the absorbing business of “watching his step” + that he had paid slight heed to the affairs of any other officer, and + least of all to those of the chaplain, whose functions in the battalion he + had regarded, it must be confessed, as more or less formal, if not merely + decorative. + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of all this, in the major the biggest thing was his heart, + which, however, true to his race type again, he kept stored in the deepest + recesses of his system. To “touch” the major's “heart” + was an operation of more than ordinary difficulty. It was that very thing, + however, which the letter to the battalion Commanding Officer from the A. + D. C. S. had achieved. The effect of this letter upon the members of the + mess, and most especially upon the junior major in regard to their + relation to their chaplain, was revolutionary. Hence the major's + visit to Barry upon the evening of his return. + </p> + <p> + It was with an unusually cordial handshake that he greeted the chaplain. + </p> + <p> + “We are glad to have you back with us, Captain Dunbar,” he + said. “We missed you, and we have discovered that we need you. + Things have been moving while you were away. This battalion is undergoing + a transformation. The O. C. is tightening down the screws of discipline. + He sees, and we all are beginning to see, that we are up against a + different proposition from what we had imagined, and right here, Captain + Dunbar, I want to say for myself, and I believe for the rest of the boys, + that we have not given you a square deal.” + </p> + <p> + His attitude and his words astounded Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that, major,” he said, in a voice husky with + emotion. “Don't say that. I have been all wrong. I am not + going to talk about it, but I am awfully glad to get a second chance.” + </p> + <p> + “If you need a second chance, Pilot,” said the major, for the + first time using the friendly western sobriquet, “believe me, you'll + get it.” + </p> + <p> + The major sat down, pulled out his pipe, and began to impart some + interesting bits of news. + </p> + <p> + “Things are moving rather swiftly with us these days. There are many + changes taking place. Duff has gone permanently to the transport, and is + in the way for a captaincy. Hopeton has gone for a machine gun course. + Sally is to be company commander in his place. Booth takes charge of the + bombers. Your friend, Sergeant Knight, is slated for a commission. He is + doing awfully well with the signallers, and, by the way, there is + something I want to show you to-morrow, something quite unique and + remarkable, our new instructor in bayonet fighting. Do you know we were + rather stuck on our bayonet fighting, but he has made the boys feel that + they didn't know anything about bayonet fighting, or, for that + matter, about anything else. I think you will enjoy him. The boys are all + up on their toes. There is nothing like the scream of a live shell 'coming + in' to speed up the training.” + </p> + <p> + When the major had departed, he left Barry in a maze of wonder and + gratitude. That the battalion were glad to have him back, that all the old + feeling of latent hostility of which he had been conscious was gone, and + that they felt that they really needed him stirred in his heart a profound + sense of humility and gratitude. + </p> + <p> + Late as it was he felt he must go out for a stroll about the camp just to + see the men and give them greeting. + </p> + <p> + Wherever he went he was greeted with a new respect and a new cordiality. + It was as if he had passed through some mystic initiation ceremony and had + been admitted into a magic circle of comradeship with the common soldier, + than which no privilege is more dearly coveted by the officers, from the + colonel himself to the youngest sub, and which is indeed, in the last + analysis, the sine qua non of effective leadership. + </p> + <p> + As Barry was passing the sergeants' mess-room the door opened and + there came out Sergeant Major McFetteridge himself, with two others of the + mess. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, sergeant major,” said Barry quietly passing on + his way. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, sir,” said the sergeant major with his usual + stiff salute. “Oh, it's you, sir,” he cried as the light + fell upon Barry's face. “We're glad to see you back, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sergeant major,” replied Barry, offering his hand, + “and I'm glad to be back with you all again.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. I assure you we're glad to have you. Won't + you come in, sir? The boys will all want to see you,” and so saying + the sergeant major threw wide open the door. + </p> + <p> + Nowhere is class privilege more appreciated and more jealously guarded + than in the sergeants' mess. It is the most enclusive of all + military circles. Realising this, Barry was glad to accept the invitation. + The hut was filled with sergeants in easy deshabille, smoking, lounging, + playing various games. + </p> + <p> + “The chaplain, boys,” announced the sergeant major, and + instantly every man was on his feet, and at attention. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, boys,” said the sergeant major. “The + chaplain has just dropped in for a minute for a friendly call, and we want + you to feel, sir,” he added, for the sergeant major loved a little + ceremonial, “that we respectfully sympathise with you in your loss, + and that we consider ourselves honoured by your presence here tonight.” + </p> + <p> + Barry was so deeply touched by the unexpected warmth of their welcome, and + by the reference to his recent sorrow, that he could not trust himself to + speak. Without a word he passed around the group, shaking hands with each + man in turn. By the time he had finished the round, he had his voice in + control, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant major, this is very kind of you. I thank you for this + welcome, and I am grateful for your sympathy.” He hesitated a moment + or two; then, as if he heard his father's voice, “Tell them! + Tell them! They don't know Him,” he added: “And, + sergeant major, if you will allow me, I have something I want to say to + all the men when I get a chance. I cannot say it all to-night to the + sergeants, but this much I would like to say: That since I saw you, I + believe I have got a new idea of my work in the battalion. I got it from a + sergeant major whose men told me that he was a fine soldier and a brave + man, and more than that, that he was 'like a father to them.' + That, sergeant major, was my own father. From him I learned that my job + was not to jump on men for their faults, but to help men to know God, who + is our Father in Heaven, and, men, I think if I can do this, I shall count + myself happy, for He is worth knowing, and we all need Him.” + </p> + <p> + His words gripped them hard. Then he added, “Before I say 'good + night,' may I have the privilege of leading you to Him in words that + you have all learned at your mother's knee?” Then simply he + spoke the words of that immortal prayer, the men joining in low and + reverent voices. + </p> + <p> + After the prayer, he quietly said, “Good night!” and was + passing out of the hut. He had not got to the door, however, when the + sergeant major's voice arrested him. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, on behalf of the sergeants, I thank you for coming in and I + thank you for your words. You have done us all good.” + </p> + <p> + The following morning, a sergeant from a neighbouring battalion, visiting + the transport lines, and observing Barry passing along with Major Bayne on + the battalion parade ground, took occasion to remark: + </p> + <p> + “That is your padre, ain't it? He checks you fellows up rather + short, don't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is our padre, or Pilot, as we like to call him,” + was Sergeant Mackay's answer, “but I want to tell you that he + can just check us up until our heads touch the crupper, and it's + nobody's damned business but our own.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you needn't get so blasted hot over it. I ain't + said nothing against your padre that I haven't heard from your own + fellows.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, sergeant. That was before we got to the + war. I'm not huntin' for any trouble with anybody, but if any + one wants to start up anything with any one, sergeant, in this battalion, + he knows how to do it.” + </p> + <p> + And this came to be recognised as an article in the creed of the sergeant's + mess. + </p> + <p> + The bayonet-fighting squad were engaged in some preliminary drill of the + more ordinary kind when Major Bayne and the chaplain arrived on the + ground. + </p> + <p> + “We'll just watch the little beggar a while from here and go + up later,” said the major. + </p> + <p> + As Barry watched the drill sergeant on his job, it seemed to him that he + had never seen a soldier work before. In figure, in pose, in action there + was a perfection about him that awakened at once admiration and envy. + Below the average height, yet not insignificant, erect, without + exaggeration, precise in movement without angularity, swift in action + without haste, he was indeed a joy to behold. + </p> + <p> + “Now, did you ever see anything like that?” enquired the + major, after their eyes had followed the evolutions of the drill sergeant + for a time. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Barry, “nor do I hope to again. He is a—I + was going to say dream, but he's no dream. He's much too wide + awake for that. He's a poem; that's what he is.” + </p> + <p> + Back and forth, about and around, stepped the little drill sergeant, a + finished example of precise, graceful movement. He was explaining in clean + cut, and evidently memorised speech the details of the movements he wished + executed, but through his more formal and memorised vocabulary his native + cockney would occasionally erupt, adding vastly to the pungency and + picturesqueness of his speech. + </p> + <p> + “He knows we are here all right,” said the major, “but + he would not let on if it were King George himself. I'll bet you a + month's pay, though, that we can't get one foot beyond what he + considers the saluting point before he comes to attention, and as for his + salute, there is nothing like it in the whole Canadian army. Talk about a + poem, his salute has Shakespeare faded. Now he's going to move them + off. Watch and listen!” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-a-ou-w!” came the long-drawn cry, fiercely threatening, + representing in English speech the word “squad.” Then followed + an expletive, “Yun!” which for explosive quality made a rifle + crack seem a drawl, and which appeared to release in the men a hidden + spring drawn to its utmost tension. The slack and sagging line leaped into + a rigid unit, of breathless, motionless humanity. + </p> + <p> + “Aw-e-ou-aw!” a prolonged vocalisation, expressive of an + infinite and gentle pity, and interpreted to the initiated ear to mean + “As you were!” released the rigid line to its former sagging + state. + </p> + <p> + “N-a-w then,” said the voice in a semi-undertone, slow and + tense, “this ain't no arter dinner bloomin' siester. A + little snap—ple—ease!” The last word in a sharply rising + inflection, tightening up the spring again for the explosive “Ye-a-ou-w—yun!” + (Squad attention.) “Aw-e-ou-r—yun!!! Aw-e-ou-r—yun!!!” + </p> + <p> + Without warning came the commands, repeating “As you were!” + “Attention!” He walked up and down before the rigid line, + looking them over and remarking casually, + </p> + <p> + “Might be a little worse,” adding as an afterthought, “per-haps!” + After which, with a sharp right turn, and a quick march, he himself + leading with a step of clean-cut, easy grace, he moved them to the + bayonet-fighting ground. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” breathed Barry. “Did you ever imagine + anything like that?” + </p> + <p> + “The result of ten years in the regular army,” said the major. + </p> + <p> + “It's almost worth it,” answered Barry. + </p> + <p> + Arriving at the bayonet-fighting ground, the little sergeant major put the + squad through their manual as if they had been recruits, to a running + comment of biting pleasantries. After bringing them to attention, he + walked slowly down the line, then back again, and remarked after due + deliberation: + </p> + <p> + “I have seen worse—not often—” Then, in a tone of + resignation, he gave the order: + </p> + <p> + “Stan-a-yeh!!!” + </p> + <p> + The men “stood at ease,” and then “stood easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” said the major, “we'll steal in on + him, if we can.” They moved forward toward the little sergeant + major, who remained studying the opposite horizon in calm abstraction + until their toes had reached a certain line, when, like the crack of a + whip, there came once more the long-drawn cry with its explosive + termination: + </p> + <p> + “Ye-a-ou-w!—Yun!!!” with the result that the line was + again thrown into instantaneous, breathless and motionless rigidity. + </p> + <p> + Toward the advancing officers the sergeant major threw himself into a + salute with one smooth, unbroken movement of indescribable grace and + finish. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, sergeant major,” said Major Bayne. “Captain + Dunbar, this is Sergeant Major Hackett.” + </p> + <p> + Again came the salute, with a barely perceptible diminution of snap, as + befitted a less formal occasion. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant major,” said Barry, “I would give a great deal + to be able to do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's that, sir?” enquired the sergeant major. + </p> + <p> + “That salute of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite easy wen you knaow 'ow!” permitting himself a + slight smile. + </p> + <p> + “You are doing some bayonet-fighting, I see, sergeant major,” + said Major Bayne. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, goin' to do a bit, sir,” replied the sergeant + major. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, carry on!” + </p> + <p> + And the sergeant major “carried on,” putting into his work and + into his every movement and utterance an unbelievable amount of + concentrated and even vicious energy. + </p> + <p> + On the bayonet-fighting ground, the first line of the enemy was + represented by sacks stuffed with straw, hung upon a frame, the second by + stuffed sacks deposited on the parapet of a trench. In bayonet-fighting + the three points demanding special emphasis are the “guarding” + of the enemy's attack, a swift bayonet thrust and an equally swift + recovery, each operation, whether in case of a living enemy or in the + stuffed effigy, being attended with considerable difficulty. Barry was + much interested in the psychological element introduced into the exercises + by the drill master. + </p> + <p> + “You must halways keep in mind that the henemy is before you. It's + important that you should visualise your foe. The henemy is hever before + you. Anything be-ind a British soldier won't trouble anybody, and + you are to remember that hit's either you or 'im.” + </p> + <p> + In moments of rapid action the sergeant major evidently had difficulty + with his aspirates. + </p> + <p> + “The suspended sacks before you represent the henemy. You are to + treat 'em so.” + </p> + <p> + Having got his line within striking distance of the swinging sacks, the + exercise was directed by two commands, “On guard!” and “Point!” + the first of which was supposed to knock off the enemy's thrust, and + the second to drive the bayonet home into his vitals, after which, without + command, there must be a swift recovery. + </p> + <p> + “Naw then, Hn-gah!—Pint!!!” + </p> + <p> + For some moments, in response to these orders, the squad practised “guarding” + and “pointing,” not, however, to the complete satisfaction of + the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, then, number five, stick it hinto 'im. Ye ain't + 'andin' a lidy an unbreller!” + </p> + <p> + Another attempt by number five being still suggestive of the amenities + proper to a social function, the sergeant major stepped up to the + overgentle soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, then,” he said, “hobserve! There's my + henemy. See 'is hugly mug. Hn-gah! Pint!!!” + </p> + <p> + At the words of command, the sergeant major threw himself into his guard + and attacked with such appalling ferocity as must have paralysed an + ordinary foe, sending his bayonet clean through to his guard, and + recovering it with a clean, swift movement. + </p> + <p> + Having secured a fairly satisfactory thrust, the sergeant major devoted + his attention to the recovery of the bayonet. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch it hout!” he cried fiercely. “There's + another man comin'. Fetch it hout! Ye may fetch 'is spinial + column with it. No matter, 'e won't need it.” + </p> + <p> + The final act in this gruesome drama was the attack upon the second line + represented by the sacks lying upon the parapet of the trench beyond. The + completed action thus included the guard, thrust, recovery, the leap + forward past the swinging line of sacks, and a second thrust at the figure + prone upon the parapet, with a second recovery of the weapon, this second + recovery being effected by stamping the foot upon the transfixed effigy, + and jerking back the bayonet with a violent upward movement. + </p> + <p> + This last recovery appeared to cause number five again some difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, number five, put a little aight (hate) into it. Stamp + your bleedin' 'obnyles (hobnails) on his fice, and fetch it + hout! This wye!” As he took the rifle from number five, the sergeant + major's face seemed to be transformed into a living embodiment of + envenomed hate, his attack, thrust, recovery, gathering in intensity until + with unimaginable fury he leaped upon the prostrate figure, drove his + bayonet through to the hilt, stamped his hobnails upon the transfixed + enemy, jerked his weapon out, and stood quivering, ready for any foe that + dared to approach. The savage ferocity of his face, the fierce energy in + his every movement, culminating in that last vicious leap and stamp, + altogether constituted such a dramatic and realistic representation of + actual fighting that the whole line burst into a very unsoldierly but very + hearty applause, which, however, the sergeant major immediately and + sternly checked. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” enquired the major. “Isn't + he a scream?” + </p> + <p> + “He is perfectly magnificent,” said Barry, “and, after + all, he is right in his psychology. There is no possibility of training + men to fight, without putting the 'aight into it!'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + A TOUCH OF WAR + </h3> + <p> + The period of intensive training was drawing to a close. The finishing + touches in the various departments that had come to be considered + necessary in modern warfare had been given. With the “putting on the + lacquer” the fighting spirit of the men had been sharpened to its + keenest edge. They were all waiting impatiently for the order to “go + up.” The motives underlying that ardour of spirit varied with the + temperament, disposition and education of the soldier. There were those + who were eager to “go up” to prove themselves in that deadly + struggle where their fellow Canadians had already won their right to stand + as comrades in arms with the most famous fighting battalions of the + British army. Others, again, there were in whose heart burned a deep + passion to get into grips with those hellish fiends whose cruelties, + practised upon defenceless women and children in that very district where + they were camped, and upon wounded Canadians, had stirred Canada from + Vancouver to Halifax with a desire for revenge. + </p> + <p> + But, with the great majority there was little of the desire either for + military glory or for revenge. Their country had laid upon them a duty for + the discharge of which they had been preparing themselves for many months, + and that duty they were ready to perform. More than that, they were eager + to get at it and get done with it, no matter at what cost. With all this, + too, there was an underlying curiosity as to what the thing would be like + “up there.” Far down below all their feelings there lay an + unanswered interrogation which no man dared to put to his comrade, and + which indeed few men put to themselves. That interrogation was: “How + shall I stand up under the test?” + </p> + <p> + The camp was overrun with rumours from returning battalions of the + appalling horrors of the front line. Ever since that fateful 22nd of + April, 1915, that day of tragedy and of glory for the Canadian army, and + for the Canadian people, the Ypres salient, the point of honour on the + western front from Dixmude to Verdun, had been given into the keeping of + the Canadian army. During those long and terrible months, in the face of a + continued bombardment and of successive counter-attacks, with the line + growing thinner, week by week, hacked up by woefully inadequate artillery, + the Canadian army had held on with the grim tenacity of death itself. + There was nothing that they could do but hold on. To push the salient + deeper into the enemy lines would only emphasise the difficulty and danger + of their position. The role assigned them was that of simply holding + steady with what ultimate objective in view no one seemed to know. + </p> + <p> + Week by week, and month after month, the Canadian battalions had moved up + into the salient, had done their “tours,” building up their + obliterated parapets, digging out their choked-up water-courses, revetting + their crumbling trenches, and rebuilding their flimsy dugouts, and then + returning to their reserve lines, always leaving behind them in hastily + dug graves over the parados of their trenches, or in the little improvised + cemeteries by Hooge, or Maple Copse or Hill 60, a few more of their + comrades, and ever sending down the line their maimed and broken to be + refitted for war or discharged again to civilian life. It was altogether a + ghastly business, a kind of warfare calling for an endurance of the finest + temper and a courage of the highest quality. + </p> + <p> + From this grim and endless test of endurance, the Canadians had discovered + a form of relief known as a “trench raid,” a special + development of trench warfare which later came to be adopted by their + comrades of the French and British armies. It was a form of sport, grim + enough, deadly enough, greatly enjoyed by the Canadian soldiers; and the + battalion which had successfully pulled off a trench raid always returned + to its lines in a state of high exaltation. They had been able to give + Fritz a little of what they had been receiving during these weary months. + </p> + <p> + While the battalion waited with ever-growing impatience for the order that + would send them “up the line,” a group of officers was + gathered in the senior major's hut for the purpose of studying in + detail some photographs, secured by our aircraft, of the enemy trenches + immediately opposite their own sector of the front line. They had finished + their study, and were engaged in the diverting and pleasant exercise of + ragging each other. The particular subject of that discussion was their + various sprinting abilities, and the comparative usefulness of various + kinds of funk-holes as a protection against “J.J.s” (Jack + Johnsons), “whizzbangs,” or the uncertain and wobbling “minniewafers.” + </p> + <p> + Seldom had Barry found occasion to call upon Major Bustead, with whom he + had been unable to establish anything more than purely formal relations. A + message, however, from the orderly room to Lieutenant Cameron, which he + undertook to deliver, brought him to the senior major's hut. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, padre,” said the major, who of late had become more + genial, “and tell us the best kind of a funk-hole for a 'minniewafer.'” + </p> + <p> + “The deepest and the closest for me, major, I should say,” + said Barry, “from what I have heard of those uncertain and wobbling + beasts.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that chaplains do not accompany their battalions to + the front line, but stay back at the casualty clearing stations,” + suggested the major. “Wise old birds, they are, too.” The + major had an unpleasant laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they go where they are ordered, sir,” replied + Barry, “but if you will excuse me, I have here a chit for Lieutenant + Cameron, sir, which has just come in,” and Barry handed Cameron his + message. + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow me, sir?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, go on, read it,” said the major. + </p> + <p> + Cameron read the message, and on his face there appeared a grave and + anxious look. + </p> + <p> + “It's from the casualty clearing station, sir. One of our + chaps from Edmonton is there dangerously wounded, and wants to see me. I'd + like to go, sir, if I might.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly. I'll make it all right with the O. C. Get a + horse from the transport. Which casualty clearing station is it?” + </p> + <p> + Cameron looked at his message. + </p> + <p> + “Menin Mill, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Menin Mill! By gad, I thought it was Brandthoek, but Menin Mill, + good Lord, that's a different proposition. That's way beyond + Ypres, you know. Right up on the line. You can't take a horse there. + Do you think you ought to go up at all?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should like to go, sir,” replied Cameron. “I + know the chap well. Went to school and college with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said the major, “you had better hurry up and + attach yourself to one of the transports going in. You will barely be in + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Cameron, and left the room. + </p> + <p> + Barry went out with him. “Who is it, Cameron?” he said. + “Do I know him?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir, whether you do or not. It's young + McPherson of Edmonton, an awfully decent chap, and my very best friend.” + </p> + <p> + “May I go up with you, Duncan? I know Colonel Tait and Captain + Gregg, who are at the Mill, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I would be awfully glad if you would, but I hardly liked to ask + you. It hasn't the reputation of being a very healthy place, I hear.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Cameron. I'm going up,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + Upon enquiry they found that they were too late for the transports, and + again the question arose as to whether, in view of the major's + order, they should make the attempt by themselves. + </p> + <p> + “It was not really an order, I think, sir,” said Cameron. + “It was more in the way of a suggestion. I think I'll go. The + note said, 'dangerously wounded,' and he sent for me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Barry, “we'll go on, and we'll + almost certainly pick up some one who will be able to direct us to the + Mill.” + </p> + <p> + Their road, which took them to Vlammertinghe, led through level fields, + lying waste and desolate with rank, overgrowing weeds. As they approached + that historic village, they saw on every hand the cruel marks of war. On + either side of the road were roofless and shattered cottages, grown around + with nettles and briars. Among these ruins, as they found on a later day, + were the old garden flowers, pansies and daisies, bravely trying to hold + their own. Among the rank weeds was to be seen the half-hidden debris of + broken farm gear. Here and there stood the ruins of what had been a + thrifty homestead, with its stone-flagged courtyard, around which + clustered its stables. Now nettles and briars grew around the broken walls + and shattered, staring windows. At rare intervals, a great house appeared, + with pretentious gateway, and grass-grown drive winding up between stately + and mutilated trees. Over the whole countryside hung a melancholy and + weird desolation, cottages, homesteads, fields, the very trees crying + aloud to high heaven for pity and vengeance. + </p> + <p> + At Vlammertinghe, itself, the church tower still stood whole, but the + church itself was wrecked, as were most of the village shops and + dwellings. In the village was to be seen no living thing except some + soldiers, who in the broken cellars were making their bivouacs. The + village stood deserted of its inhabitants, ever since the terrific + onslaught of the Huns, on the 22nd of April, 1915, which had driven them + forth from their homes, a panic-stricken, terror-hunted crowd of old men, + women and little babes, while over them broke, with a continuous and + appalling roar, a pitiless rain of shells. + </p> + <p> + At the cross-roads stood a mounted officer, directing the traffic, which + here tended to congestion. As they entered the village, the sentry halted + them to enquire as to their bona fides. Having satisfied him, they + enquired their way to the Menin Mill. + </p> + <p> + “Menin!” The rising inflection of the sentry's voice + expressed a mild surprise. “The old Mill! Are you going there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Barry, answering his inflection. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, you know, it's rather a bad road. Warm bit of + country up there, but—” He shrugged his shoulders in quite a + French manner as if to say it was no business of his. “If you are + going to Menin, you keep this road straight through past Wipers past the + Cloth Hall, out by the Menin Gate. A hot place, that, sir. Then straight + on, taking the right incline for about a mile and a half. You will see a + big cemetery on your left. The Mill stands near a big school on your + right. But why not drop into the dressing station, here, sir, right here + in this old mill, which stands at the cross-roads? You may catch an + ambulance going straight up to the Mill.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” said Barry. “We'll do that + very thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Good luck, sir,” said the sentry, saluting. + </p> + <p> + They found an ambulance about to start, and asked for a lift. + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” said the driver, “but you'd + better step in and ask the officer.” + </p> + <p> + They passed into a large and high-vaulted stone building, which in peace + days had been a mill. The old-fashioned, massive machinery was still + standing intact. Obtaining permission from the officer, they took their + places beside the driver of the ambulance, and were soon on their way. + </p> + <p> + It was already growing dark, but, although the surface of the stone pave + was frequently broken with shell-holes, the ambulance, dodging round the + holes, rushed without pause along at a high rate of speed. + </p> + <p> + “You don't use your lights?” asked Barry. + </p> + <p> + “No, not lately, sir,” said the driver. “That's + the newest order,” he added in a tone of disgust. + </p> + <p> + The road lay between double rows of once noble trees, centuries old, with + the first delicate green of spring softening their bare outlines. Now, + splintered, twisted, broken, their wounds showing white in the darkening + light through the delicate green, they stood silently eloquent of the + terrific force of the H. E. shell. + </p> + <p> + As they went speeding along the shell-marked road they came upon a huge + trunk of a mighty elm, broken clear from its stump, lying partially cross + their track, which soldiers were already busy clearing away. Without an + instant's pause, the driver wheeled his car off the 'pave', + crashed through the broken treetops, and continued on his way. + </p> + <p> + Barry looked upon the huge trunk with amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Did a single shell break that tree off like that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” was the reply, “and all these you see along + here. It's the great transport road for our front line, and the + boches shell it regularly. Here comes one now,” he added, casually. + </p> + <p> + There was a soft woolly “whoof” far away, a high, thin whine, + as from a vicious insect overhead, with every fractional second coming + nearer and yet nearer, ever deepening in tone, ever increasing in volume, + until, like an express train, with an overwhelming sense of speed and + power, and with an appalling roar, it crashed upon them. In the field on + their left, there leaped fifty yards into the air a huge mass of earth and + smoke. Then a stunning detonation. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly Barry and Cameron both crouched down in the car, but the driver + held his wheel, without the apparent quiver of a muscle. + </p> + <p> + “There'll be three more, presently, I guess,” he said, + putting on full speed. + </p> + <p> + His guess proved right. Again that distant woolly “whoof,” the + long-drawn whine, deepening to a scream, the appalling roar and crash, and + a second shell fell in the road behind them. + </p> + <p> + “Two,” said the driver coolly. “There will be a couple + more.” + </p> + <p> + Again and yet again, each time the terror growing deeper in their souls, + came the two other shells, but they fell far behind. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Fritzie,” remonstrated the driver, “that's + rotten bad work. You'll have to do better than that.” + </p> + <p> + Again and again, in groups of four, the shells came roaring in, but the + car had passed out of that particular zone of danger, and sped safely on + its way. + </p> + <p> + “Do you have this sort of thing every night?” enquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” cheerfully replied the driver. “Fritzie makes + a lot better practice than that, at times. Do you see this?” He put + his finger upon a triangular hole a few inches above his head. “I + got that last week. We don't mind so much going up, but it's + rather annoying when you're bringing down your load of wounded.” + </p> + <p> + As they approached Ypres, the road became more and more congested, until + at length they had to thread their way between two continuous streams of + traffic up and down, consisting of marching battalions, transports, + artillery wagons, ambulances, with now and then a motor or a big gun. + </p> + <p> + About a mile from the city, they came to a large red brick building, with + pretentious towers and surrounded by a high brick wall. + </p> + <p> + “An asylum,” explained the driver. “Now used as a + dressing station. We'll just run in for orders.” + </p> + <p> + At what seemed to Barry reckless speed, he whirled in between the brick + posts, and turned into a courtyard, on one side of which he parked his + ambulance. + </p> + <p> + “Better come inside, sir,” said the driver. “They + sometimes throw a few in here, seeing it's a hospital.” + </p> + <p> + They passed down the wide stairs, the centre of which had been converted + into a gangway for the passage of wheeled stretchers, into a large + basement, with concrete floors and massive pillars, lit by flaring + gasjets. Along the sides of the outer room were rows of wounded soldiers, + their bandaged heads and arms no whiter than their faces, a patient and + pathetic group, waiting without complaint for an ambulance to carry them + down the line. + </p> + <p> + In an inner and operating room, Barry found two or three medical officers, + with assistants and orderlies, intent upon their work. While waiting there + for their driver, they heard overhead again that ominous and terrifying + whine, this time, however, not long drawn, but coming in with terrific + speed, and ending with a sharp and shattering crash. Again and again and + again, with hardly a second between, there came the shells. It seemed to + Barry as if every crash was fair upon the roof of the building, but no man + either of the medical attendants or of the waiting wounded paid the + slightest heed. + </p> + <p> + At length there came a crash that seemed to break within the very room in + which they were gathered. The lights flickered, some of them went out, + there was a sound as if a tower had crashed down upon the roof. Dust and + smoke filled the room. + </p> + <p> + “Light up that gas,” said the Officer Commanding. An orderly + sprang to obey. The gasjets were once more lighted and the work went on. + </p> + <p> + “Rather near, wasn't that one?” asked Barry of a wounded + man at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied casually, “they got a piece that time,” + and again he sunk into apathetic silence. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments the driver had obtained his orders and was ready to set + forth. + </p> + <p> + “Better wait a bit,” said the sergeant at the door, “until + their Evening Hate is over.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” said the driver. “I guess + Fritz is pretty well through. They are rather crowded there at the mill, + and I guess we'll go on.” + </p> + <p> + In his heart, Barry earnestly hoped that the sergeant would interpose with + a more definite command, but, inasmuch as the bombardment had apparently + ceased, and as if it were all in a day's work, the driver, buttoning + up his coat, said: + </p> + <p> + “We'll go, sir, if you are ready.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes' run brought them to the gate of the ruined city. As + the car felt its way through the ghostly town, Barry was only vaguely + conscious in the darkness of its ghostly skeletonlike ruins. Fifteen + minutes brought them to the Menin gate. + </p> + <p> + “Sounds rather hot out there,” remarked the driver. “Well, + Fritzie, I guess we won't join your party this time. We prefer to + wait, if you don't mind, really.” + </p> + <p> + He ran the car into the lee of the ramparts, by the side of the gateway, + waited there half an hour or so, until the “Evening Hate” was + past; then onward again to the Menin Mill. + </p> + <p> + They lifted the blanket covering the sandbagged entrance, passed through a + dark corridor and came into a cellar, lit by lanterns, swinging from the + roof, and by candles everywhere upon ledges or upon improvised + candlesticks. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had they come into the light, than Barry saw across the room his + friend, Dr. Gregg, his coat off, and his shirtsleeves rolled to his + elbows. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Dunbar,” said the doctor, coming forward. “I + guess I won't shake hands just now. Sit down. Won't you have a + cup of coffee? Jim,” turning to an orderly, “give Captain + Dunbar a cup of coffee.” + </p> + <p> + Barry presented Cameron to his friend, and together they sat down and + waited. When the doctor was through with his patient, he came and sat down + with them. + </p> + <p> + “We came up to see a young chap named McPherson. I think you sent a + note down about him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “McPherson,” said the doctor. “I don't remember, + but I will see.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to a desk and turning over the pages of a record, apparently + found the name, and returned to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say that McPherson died this afternoon,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “Dead,” said Barry. He turned to Cameron. “I'm + awfully sorry, Duncan.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there anybody with him?” he enquired of the doctor. + “He was Lieutenant Cameron's very close friend, and college + companion.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, awfully sorry,” replied the doctor. “Yes, I think + Captain Winter, the chaplain of the —th, was with him at the last. + He's not here just now. I can tell you where to get him. To-morrow + is his day here.” + </p> + <p> + “Is—is—is his body still here?” enquired Cameron, + after a few moments' silence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's in the next room. Do you want to see it? He was + pretty badly smashed up, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I should like to see him,” said Cameron. “I + know his people, you see, and I would like to tell them that I saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right,” said the doctor. He called an orderly. + </p> + <p> + “Come this way, sir,” said the orderly. + </p> + <p> + Together they followed the orderly into the next room, apparently a + storehouse for grain. There lying upon the floor they saw three silent + shapes, wrapped in grey blankets. + </p> + <p> + “This is Mcpherson, sir,” said the orderly, looking at the + card attached to the blanket. + </p> + <p> + He stooped, drew down the blanket from the face and stepped back. In civil + life, both Barry and Cameron had seen the faces of the dead, but only in + the coffin, after having been prepared for burial by those whose office it + is to soften by their art death's grim austerities. + </p> + <p> + Cameron gave one swift glance at the shapeless, bloody mass, out of which + stared up at him wide-open glassy eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God, my God!” he gasped, gripping Barry by the arm, + and staggering back as if he had received a blow. He turned to the door as + if to make his escape, but Barry, himself white and shaken, held him + firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, old boy,” he said. “Steady, Duncan!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let me go! Let me get out of here!” + </p> + <p> + “Duncan, there are a lot of wounded chaps out there.” + </p> + <p> + The boy—he was only nineteen—was halted at the word, stood + motionless and then muttered: + </p> + <p> + “You are right, sir. I was forgetting.” + </p> + <p> + “And, Duncan, remember,” said Barry, in a quiet and solemn + voice, “there's more than that to McPherson. That fine young + chap whom you knew and loved is not that poor and battered piece of clay. + Your friend has escaped from death and all its horrors.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I know,” whispered Cameron, still shaking. “We'll + go out now, sir. I'll be all right. I assure you I'm all + right.” + </p> + <p> + They passed out into the dressing-room again, where the wounded were + continuing to arrive. Cameron was for departing at once, but Barry held + him back, unwilling that the lad should be driven away beaten and unnerved + by what he had seen. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Duncan, let's see some of these boys. We can perhaps + cheer them up a bit. They need it badly enough, God knows.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” muttered Cameron, sitting down upon a bench in + the shadow. They waited there till Dr. Gregg came along. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Dunbar, you are looking seedy. Feeling rotten, eh?” + said the doctor, eying him critically for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm all right,” said Barry. “The truth is, I've + just been in there with young Cameron. Rather a ghastly sight. Cameron's + badly knocked up. Can you do anything for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing,” said the doctor cheerfully. “Stay right + there where you are. I'll bring you something in a moment or two. + Now sit right there, do you hear? Don't move.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments he returned, bringing hot coffee for them both. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he said in a cheerful matter-of-fact voice, “drink + that.” + </p> + <p> + Barry gulped it down, Cameron taking his more slowly, and with evident + distaste. The doctor continued to converse with them in tones of cheerful + and, as Barry thought, of almost careless indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I must leave you,” said the doctor. “I see there's + a case of shell shock. We didn't know how to handle that for a + while. The British R. A. M. C. for some months declined to recognise it as + requiring treatment at all. You might care to look at this chap. Poor + devil!” + </p> + <p> + Barry had been looking at the man ever since he had come into the room, + supported by two of his comrades. He was indeed an object of pity. Of + splendid physique, six feet and powerfully built, with the fine + intelligent face of an educated man, he stood there white, twitching in + every muscle, in a state of complete nerve-collapse. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Tait, who had been observing him keenly ever since his entering + the room, now approached him, greeted him with a cheerful “Hello!” + took him by the hand and felt his pulse. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, old chap? Feeling a little better than you were, aren't + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—doc—tor. Rather—rotten—though—Be + all right—to-morrow—” + </p> + <p> + “Sure you will! Still a little rest won't do you any harm. We'll + send you down for a couple of weeks, and then you will be fit enough to + have another go at the boche.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he turned him over to an assistant, and went on with his work. + At this point Cameron, from whose eyes the look of horror had not yet + faded, leaned over to Barry and whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Let's get out of this. For Heaven's sake, this thing is + getting me.” He glanced at Barry. “What, are you ill, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Ill,” answered Barry between his clenched teeth. “Ill? + No, why should I be ill? Look at these boys. I see myself ill. By Jove!” + he added under his breath, “here's another shell shock. Sit + down, Cameron!” His voice took on a sterner tone. “Sit down. + Don't be an ass!” + </p> + <p> + Once more Colonel Tait took in hand the shell-shock man. This second was a + stretcher case. The man was very violent, requiring two men to hold him on + his stretcher. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let him go! Let him go!” said Colonel Tait. “What's + wrong with you?” he said to the man. “Have you any wounds?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” chattered the man miserably. “Shell—shock,—sir. + Buried—twice—by a shell. Oh! Ah!” + </p> + <p> + The colonel had a few moments' conversation with Gregg, who came + over to where Barry was sitting and said: + </p> + <p> + “I say, Dunbar, watch this case. You will see some fun.” + </p> + <p> + “Fun,” echoed Barry, shaken and indignant. “Not much fun + for that poor chap.” + </p> + <p> + “Stand up,” said the colonel sharply. + </p> + <p> + The man stood up without much apparent difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the colonel. “Shell shock. Bad case, too.” + His voice was kind and sympathetic. He gripped the man by the arm and ran + his hand down his spine until he came to the small of his back. + </p> + <p> + “Pain there, eh?” he said, giving the man a poke. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! Ouw! Doctor. Awful.” + </p> + <p> + “Thought so,” said the doctor. “Bad case! Poor chap! A + curious feeling in the legs, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The man nodded vigorously, still twitching violently and making animal + moanings. + </p> + <p> + Still pursuing his investigations and continuing to sympathise with his + patient, the doctor enquired as to other symptoms, to all of which the + patient promptly confessed. When the examination was completed, the doctor + gave his man a hearty slap on the back and said: + </p> + <p> + “You're all right, my boy. Go treat yourself to a cup of + cocoa, and a good, thick slice of bread and raspberry jam—raspberry, + remember—and to-morrow you can report to your battalion medical + officer.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed the man. “Doctor, I can't go up + again. I'm not fit to go up.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you can, my boy. You'll be in good fighting trim + to-morrow. You'll see! You'll see! Come back here some day, + perhaps, with a V. C.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the man began to swear violently. + </p> + <p> + “Here, none of that,” said the doctor sharply, “or up + you go to-night.” + </p> + <p> + A grin ran around the dressing station, in which none joined more heartily + than the first shell-shock man, waiting to be conveyed down the line. + </p> + <p> + “They don't get by the old man often, nowadays,” was Dr. + Gregg's comment. + </p> + <p> + “You don't often get cases like this, though, do you?” + enquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Not often. We have passed through this dressing station some + thousands of cases, and we may have had eight or ten malingerers. But this + is not all sham. There is a strong mixture of hysteria and suggestion with + the sham. A chap with a highly organised temperament gets buried by a + shell. That is a terrific nerve shock. He sees two or three chaps blown to + bits. Another nerve shock. Now he has heard about shell shock as a result + of a similar experience. Immediately the suggestion begins to work and the + man discovers in himself the well known symptoms of genuine shell shock, + and, begad! I don't wonder. What we have just given him is part of + the treatment for hysteria—a little nerve tonic. A good sleep may + put him all right by to-morrow morning. The chances are, however, that the + O. C. will send him down for a few days' rest and change. If so, the + chap will be as happy as a clam. The boys will rag him half to death down + there, so that he will be keen to get back again, and the chances are may + get his V. C. Oh, we all get scared stiff,” laughed Gregg. “We + are none of us proud about here. That hero stuff that you read about in + the home papers, we don't know much about. We just 'carry on'.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Gregg! That's all right, but to just 'carry on' + in this business, it seems to me, calls for some pretty fine hero stuff.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we don't call it so,” said Gregg. “Now I'll + see about your ambulance. I believe there's one about ready to go. I + think I can find a place for you and your friend, and it will save you a + long walk.” + </p> + <p> + They came away from the old mill with mingled feelings. Barry had to a + certain extent recovered from his shock, and had himself somewhat firmly + in hand. Cameron was still silent and obviously shaken. + </p> + <p> + It was grey dawn when they arrived at the camp, physically weary, + nervously exhausted, and sick at heart. Barry wakened Hobbs, who greeted + them with the news that the battalion was under orders to go up that + night. By his own state Barry was able to gauge that of his friend + Cameron. The experiences of the last ten hours had been like nothing in + his previous life. The desolation wrought by war upon the face of the + country, upon the bodies of men, upon their souls, had sickened and + unnerved him; and this he remembered was an experience of only a brief ten + hours. He was conscious of a profound self-distrust and humiliation, as he + thought of those other men, those medical officers, with their orderlies, + the ambulance drivers, those wounded soldiers. How could they endure this + horror, day in and day out, for weeks and for months? In a few hours he + would have to meet his fellow officers and the men. They could not fail to + read in his face all this that he carried in his heart. + </p> + <p> + By his grey, haggard face he knew that the same horror and fear had gone + deep into his friend's soul. There came to him the sudden thought + that Cameron, too, must meet his fellow officers, and must endure their + searching chaff, and that he would reveal himself to his undoing; for no + man can ever live down in his battalion the whisper that he is a “quitter.” + That very night Cameron would be forced to lead up his platoon into the + front line, and must lead them step by step over that same Vlammertinghe + road, where the transports were nightly shelled. In the presence of any + danger soever, he must not falter. When the shells would begin to fall, he + knew well how the eyes of his men would turn to their leader and search + his very soul to see of what quality he was. Far better a man should die + than falter. He had not failed to notice the startled look in Cameron's + eyes when Hobbs blurted out his news. Some way must be found for the + bracing up of the nerve, the steadying of the courage of his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Come in with me, Cameron,” he said, standing at the door of + his hut. “I'm dead beat and so are you. We'll have + coffee and some grub, and then sleep for a couple of hours until reveille.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron hesitated. The thing he most longed for at that moment was to be + alone. + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” insisted Barry. “Hobbs will have a fire + going, and hot coffee in ten minutes. Come on, old chap. I want you to.” + </p> + <p> + He threw his arm around Cameron's shoulder and dragged him in. The + boy dropped onto Barry's cot, and, as he was, boots and coat on, was + asleep before the coffee was ready. His boyish face, with its haggard + look, struck pity to Barry's heart, and recalled his father's + words, “These boys need their mothers.” If ever a lad needed + his mother, it was young Cameron, and just in that hour. + </p> + <p> + He woke the boy up, gave him his coffee, had Hobbs remove his boots, made + him undress and covered him up in his blankets. Then, taking his own + coffee, he lay down on Hobbs' bed. + </p> + <p> + “Harry,” he said, “give us every minute of sleep you + can. Wake us just one-half hour before reveille with coffee and everything + else good you can rustle, and, Harry, waken me before Mr. Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + When he lay down to sleep he made an amazing discovery—that his own + horror and fear and self-distrust had entirely passed away. He felt + himself quite prepared to “carry on.” How had this thing come + to pass? His physical recuperation by means of coffee and food? This + doubtless in part, but only in part. In his concern for his friend he had + forgotten himself, and in forgetting himself he had forgotten his fear. It + was an amazing discovery. + </p> + <p> + “Thank the good God,” he said. “He never forgets a + fellow, and I won't forget that.” + </p> + <p> + He woke to find Hobbs at his side, with coffee, toast and bacon, and on + the floor beside his cot his tub awaiting him—the tub being a rubber + receptacle exactly eighteen inches in diameter. + </p> + <p> + He hurried through his dressing, and his breakfast, all the while Cameron + lying like a dead man, and with almost a dead man's face. + </p> + <p> + Barry hated to waken him, but reveille was but a bare thirty minutes off, + and he had an experiment to work upon his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the coffee, Harry. Not the bacon, yet,” he ordered. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cameron, old boy! Wake up.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron rolled over with a groan and opened his eyes, still dull and heavy + with sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are. Pipe this down your tunnel and look lively, too. You + have got thirty minutes—twenty-five, really—to reveille, and + you have your toilet to perform—shave, massage, manicure and all the + rest—so go to it. Here's your tub. You can't get into + it, but soap yourself over, and Hobbs will sluice you with a pail or two + outside.” + </p> + <p> + “Why all this Spartan stuff? It's awfully cold. I think I'll + content myself with a nose rub this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Get out of bed, and be quick about it,” commanded Barry, + “unless you'd rather take your tub where you are.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he jerked the clothes clear off the cot, threatening Cameron + with the tub. Cameron sprang up, stripped, soaped himself over, groaning + and shivering the while; then stood outside in the open, while Hobbs + administered the order of the bath, and after a vigorous rub, came in + glowing. + </p> + <p> + “By jingo! That's bully! It's a pity a fellow can't + always feel just how bully it is before he takes it.” + </p> + <p> + “Na-a-w then! a little snap!” ordered Barry, in attempted + imitation of the inimitable Sergeant Major Hackett. “A little speed, + ple-ease! That's better. I've seen worse—not often!” + </p> + <p> + And so he rattled on through Cameron's dressing and shaving + operations. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, 'Obbs, a little Delmonico 'ere. Shove this + bacon against your fice, Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + “What about yours, sir?” said Cameron, as he sat down to the + luxuries which somehow Hobbs had “rustled.” + </p> + <p> + “Had it, you slacker.” Then with a swift change of voice and + manner he added: “Listen to me, Cameron. I'm going to have my + prayers. You won't bother me any, and if you don't mind I'll + do them out loud. Don't you stop eating, though. Hobbs, stop your + wandering around there and sit down and listen.” Barry took his + Bible. + </p> + <p> + “Cameron,” he said, “one comfort in reading the Bible to + a chap with a father like yours is that you know all about the thing + already—context, historical references and theological teaching—therefore, + no need of comment. Also you have a good imagination to see things. Turn + on the juice while I read. Hobbs, you waken up, too.” + </p> + <p> + Then he began to read the vivid words which picture as in miniature + etchings the life stories of the heroes of Faith who in their day held + their generation steady and pointed the way to duty and victory. As he + read his face became alight, his dark eyes glowed, his voice thrilled + under the noble passion of the words he read. Then he came to this stately + peroration: + </p> + <p> + “And what shall I more say? For the time would fail me to tell of + Gideon,” and so on through the list of heroes, “Who through + faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped + the mouths of lions, (of whom the world was not worthy). Wherefore seeing + we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay + aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us + run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the + author and finisher of our faith, who, for the joy that was set before + him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right + hand of the throne of God.” + </p> + <p> + Both reader and hearers were swept along upon the tide of dramatic + passion. They were themselves a part of the great and eternal conflict + there pictured; they, too, were called upon to endure the cross. + </p> + <p> + Cameron had forgotten his breakfast, and with his kindling eyes fastened + upon the reader's face, was listening to the noble music of the + thrilling words. + </p> + <p> + Barry closed his book and laid it down. + </p> + <p> + “Great, eh! Wonderful company! All the finest and the best of the + war's heroes are in it. Now, then, prayer—” He dropped + on his knees, Cameron and Hobbs following his example. + </p> + <p> + It was a prayer chiefly of thanksgiving for those who in their day and in + the face of anguish and terror and death had kept the faith; of + thanksgiving, too, for all who in this present day of sacrifice in the + home land and of sacrifice upon the field of battle were keeping that same + faith for the Empire and for this same sacred cause of humanity. The + prayer closed with a simple petition that they in the battalion might be + found worthy of a humble place in that great company. + </p> + <p> + As they were repeating together the prayer “Our Father,” the + notes of the reveille sounded shrilly over the camp. + </p> + <p> + “Go out, Hobbs, for a minute,” said Barry after they had risen + from their prayer. He knew well that Cameron would want a few minutes with + him alone. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said the boy, and his voice was quiet and steady, + “I'm not going to try to thank you, but I believe I can + 'carry on' now.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you can,” said Barry, gripping his hand. “You + bet you can! It's the point of view after all, old man, isn't + it? For ourselves it doesn't matter, but we have got to think of the + boys, and we have got to stay with the game.” + </p> + <p> + Eighteen hours later the relief was completed, and the battalion was in + its place in the line, all but the sentries asleep in their flimsy dugouts + and behind their rotten parapets. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, Barry, who was sleeping with the M. O. in the regimental + aid post, was wakened from a dead sleep by the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “There's something doing out there,” he said. “Listen!” + </p> + <p> + There was a quick succession of sharp explosions. + </p> + <p> + “Bombs!” said the M. O. + </p> + <p> + The explosions were followed by the rat-tat-tat—tat-tat—tat-tat-tat + of the machine guns. Instantly they were both on their feet and out in the + trench. + </p> + <p> + “I guess Fritzie is trying to put something over on us, being our + first night,” said the M. O. “I'll get my boys out.” + </p> + <p> + He ran to the adjoining dugout, where his corporal and stretcher bearers + were sleeping, roused them and sent them up the trench. There was the + sound of subdued voices and of quick marching feet along the communication + trench a few yards away. They stood together listening for a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going,” said Barry, hurrying off in the direction + of the sound. “Come on.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar,” called the M. O. sharply, “my place is + here, and I think this is where you will be most useful as well. They will + bring the wounded to us right here.” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes all was still again, except for the machine guns, which + still kept up their incessant tattoo. + </p> + <p> + The M. O. was correct in his forecast. In a few minutes down the + communication trench came a wounded man walking, jubilant in spite of his + wounds. + </p> + <p> + “Fritzie tried to put one over on us,” he exclaimed, while the + doctor was dabbing with iodine and tying up his wounded arm, “but I + think he's got another guess coming. You ought to have seen our + officer,” he added. “The first one in the bunch to be 'at + 'em.' With a bayonet, too, mind you. Grabbed one from a + private as he ran past, and bombs bursting like hell all around. Beg + pardon, sir,” he added, turning to Barry. “He's some + kid, poor chap. He's got his, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” asked the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant Cameron, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Cameron!” cried Barry. “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “They are carrying the stretcher cases right down to the dressing + station, I hear,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going, doc,” said Barry, and was off at a run. + </p> + <p> + At the casualty clearing station there was no excitement, the doctors and + orderlies “carrying on” as usual, receiving the wounded, + dressing their wounds, sending them down with the smoothness and despatch + characteristic of their department. + </p> + <p> + “Cameron?” said the doctor in answer to Barry's + question. “Why certainly, I'll show you.” And he led him + to Cameron's cot. + </p> + <p> + “Well, old chap,” said the doctor cheerily, “we're + going to send you down in a minute or two. Now don't talk.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron's eyes welcomed Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Dear old boy,” said Barry, dropping on his knees beside him. + “I'm awfully sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” whispered Cameron. “They—never—knew.—You'll + write dad—and tell him—I kept—” The voice trailed + off into silence. The morphia was doing its merciful work. + </p> + <p> + “Kept the faith,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” whispered Cameron with a smile, faint but exultant. + </p> + <p> + “Good old boy,” whispered Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I—kept—I kept—” + </p> + <p> + The bearers came to carry out the stretcher. + </p> + <p> + “Will he recover?” whispered Barry to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Recover? Surest thing you know,” said the doctor in a loud + cheery voice. “We can't spare this kind of stuff, you know.” + </p> + <p> + And again Barry leaned over the stretcher and said, patting Cameron on the + shoulder: + </p> + <p> + “Good old boy. You make us proud of you. You kept the faith.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THINNING RANKS + </h3> + <p> + “Three months in that hell-hole of the salient have made their mark + on this battalion,” said Transport Sergeant Mackay. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there's quite a lot of these round the first line and + back about here,” replied the pioneer sergeant, who was putting the + finishing touches upon some crosses, that were to be sent up the line that + night. + </p> + <p> + “That's so, Fatty. Whose is that cross you are finishing?” + </p> + <p> + “That's Lieutenant Salford's, a fine young officer he + was, too. Always had a smile. The deeper the mud the more Sally smiled. + And this here is Lieutenant Booth's. There's a chap now that + picked up wonderful. Two months ago everybody thought he was a big soft + slob, and those bombers say that he was all, right. And here's the + M. O.'s. Poor old doc! There was a man, now, if there ever was one. + He wasn't afraid of nothing. He would go walking about with a smile + when a bombardment was on, and in that last big show the other day, they + say him and the chaplain—there's another peach—they + 'carried on' wonderful. I wasn't around there at the + time, but the boys at the dressing station told me that them two worked + back and forward getting out the wounded, I think they had about thirty + injured up at that time, as if it was a kind of er summer shower that was + falling, let alone H. E.'s and whizzbangs, and then after they got + the last man out, the M. O. went in with some stretcher bearers, just + lookin' around before he left, and a shell came and got 'em + all, and they say it was about the last shell that was throwed. And that's + where poor Harry Hobbs got his, too. The Pilot went out just a minute + before, and when he came back that's what he saw. They say he was + terrible cut up over the M. O. Funny thing, the M. O.'s face was + just as quiet as if he had gone to sleep, but the rest of the boys, well + you could hardly get 'em together, and the Pilot walkin' up + and down there lookin' like a lost man. We buried 'em right + there by Maple Copse. I want to tell you, sergeant, that that's the + hardest job I ever done in this war. The Pilot, he broke right down in the + middle of the service. It must have been hard for him. I've been + with him now at every funeral and he stands up to his work like a man. He + takes it kind of cheery almost, but when we was puttin' down the M. + O. and poor Harry, the Pilot just couldn't appear to stand it. I + cried like a baby, and you ought to have seen the crowd, the O. C. and the + adjutant and the pioneers, and they are all pretty hardened up by this + time. They have done enough plantin' anyhow. They just all went to + pieces. The shells was goin' overhead among the trees, something + awful, but nobody minded more than if they had been pea-shooters. First + time I ever seen the Pilot break, and I have been with him ever since the + first one we buried, and that was big Jim Berry. A sniper got him. You don't + remember? I guess you don't see much or get much of the news back + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Back here!” exclaimed Sergeant Mackay. “What do you + mean, 'back here'? Don't I have to go up every night + with the transport, and through that barridge, too. This aint no 'safety + first' job.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, sergeant. I'm not sayin' you ain't at + war. Believe me, I'd rather be up front than to go up round Hell + Fire Corner and come back by the Menin Gate every night like you fellows. + I ain't sayin' nothing about that, but you don't see + things that I see, and you don't get the news same as I do. Now, + about Jim Berry, you know, he was goin' to do some snipin' in + place of McCuaig, who went to the machine gun company.” + </p> + <p> + “McCuaig, in the machine gun company! I never heard that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's what I'm sayin',” said + Sergeant Matthews, “you don't get some of the chances to get + news down here, same as me. You see, when we're sewin' up the + boys and fixin' 'em up like, and when we're fixin' + up the graves and puttin' on the crosses, you get kind of thinkin' + about things, and kind of lonesome, and so the boys keep telling the news + to cheer themselves up, and that's how I heard about McCuaig. You + see, McCuaig was snipin' the first tour, and he's a killer, + you bet, and he had only cut three natches in his rifle. The boys say he + had got four of the Huns, but he had only put down three natches on his + rifle to be sure, and after he seen the machine gun work, stoppin' a + raid, he comes to the officer, and says he, givin' him his rifle: + 'Say, this is all right for sport, but it ain't good enough + for killin' these devils. I'd like to get on to your gang, if + I can,' and they put him right onto the machine gun. Say, he's + sleepin' with that Lewis gun ever since. Just pets it like a baby. + What was I tellin' you? Oh, yes, about McCuaig and Jim Berry. Well, + he took McCuaig's place snipin' and a good sniper he was too. + He used to hunt, you know, up in the mountains with Jim Knight every fall. + Well, he started out snipin' the day after McCuaig quit, and McCuaig + gave him his rifle too, and took him up to the 'hide.' Well, + big Jim was always a careless cuss, you know. He gets his eye on the hole, + sightin' his rifle, and McCuaig was watchin' through one of + them new things—” + </p> + <p> + “Perry's scope.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it, Paris cope. Them French is mighty smart + fellows, you bet. When along walks a Hun. 'There he comes!' + sings out McCuaig. 'Didn't see him until he got past,' + says Jim, pretty mad, because Jim hated to show that he'd got + 'buck fever,' or something, and waited for the next. 'Here + he comes!' says McCuaig, again. 'Bang!' goes Jim. + 'I've got him,' he shouts, hoppin' up to get a + good look, when McCuaig grabs him and jerks him down, swearin' + somethin' awful, and tellin' him he wasn't shootin' + no mountain goats. 'Oh shaw!' says Jim. 'They can't + get me.' 'You keep your head down, Jim,' said McCuaig. + That's the very last words he said to him, just as he was leavin' + him. He wasn't down the next day when bang! goes Jim's rifle, + and again up he jumps to see what he'd got, when ping! goes a Boche + bullet right through his head. You know McCuaig was real mad, and he stood + quiet at that hole for three hours. Then he got Corporal Thom to shove up + a hat on a rifle, when ping! comes the bullet and bang! goes Jim's + rifle. 'Guess he won't shoot no more, unless there's + shootin' in hell,' says he, and makes another natch. Say, the + boys all felt bad about Jim and so did the Pilot. Well, we had to plant + him that night, as we was goin' out next day. It was out beyond the + Loop. You don't know where that is, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I do,” asserted Mackay indignantly. “I've + been all around that front line. What are you givin' us!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you have, eh! Well, I wouldn't unless I had to, you bet. + It's no place for a man with a waist line like mine. Well, as I was + sayin', that cemetery was right out in the open, right under + observation, and exposed to machine guns, snipers, whizbangs, all the hull + bloody lot of 'em. Wasn't no place for a cemetery anyway, I + say. I'm not after any bomb proof job but a cemetery should be—” + </p> + <p> + “Should be a quiet and retired spot,” suggested one of the + transport boys. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What's the use of getting livin' men shot up when + they're buryin' dead men, I want to know. Not saying anything + about the officers that's always round, and the chaplain. I say a + cemetery should be somewhere out of sight, like Maple Copse; now, there's + a good place, except that the roots make it hard diggin'. Up against + a railway bank like that down at Zillebeck, by the Railway Dugouts, there's + a lovely place.” + </p> + <p> + “How would the Ramparts do, sergeant?” enquired another + transport lad. + </p> + <p> + “Ramparts? You mean at Ypres? Yes,” said the sergeant, with a + grin, “but I'd hate to turn out the Brigade Headquarters + Staff.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, sergeant.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I was sayin', that's no place for a cemetery + up there beyond the Loop, but I didn't know so much about it then, + you bet. That's where we had to bury Jim. It was a awful black + night, and of course, just as we got out to the trench to go 'overland' + to the cemetery, them flares started up something awful. I don't + know what they was lookin' for, but when they went up, I want to + tell you, I felt about the size of a tree, and I wisht I was one. Well, + Jim, you know, was pretty heavy, an awful heavy carry he was for the boys. + I was tryin' to hurry 'em along, but that Pilot, he heads the + procession, and on he goes at a funeral march pace. Now I believe in doin' + things right. I've heard of some pioneers that hurries their job. I + don't believe in that, but when you are going across the open on a + dark night, with them flares going up, I say between flares is a good time + to get a move on, but, no, that there Pilot, he just goes that pace and no + more. I want to tell you the boys was nervous and the officers too. The O. + C. and Major Bustead was there. I could see the major fussin' to get + on. Well, we got Jim down all right, and just as the Pilot got started, + darned if they didn't open up the biggest kind of a machine gun + chorus you ever heard.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do, sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Well, I started huggin' mud and saying all the good words + I could think of. Even the O. C. got down on his knees, and the major, he + near got into the grave, but that darned Pilot stood up there getting + taller every minute, and goin' on with his prayer, and the boys + sayin' 'Amen!' that loud and emphatic that I thought he'd + take the hint and cut out somethin', but cut out nothin'! + Seemed as if his memory was workin' over time, the way he kept a + fetchin' up things that he could a easily forgot, and when he comes + to the benediction, the whizbangs begin to come. Up goes his hand, the way + they do. I thought to myself that that was a kind of unnecessary display. + I looks up and there he was, more like a tree than ever. In fact, I says + to myself—it's queer how you think things at times like that—darned + if they won't think the darned fool is a tree, for nothin' but + a darned tree would stand up in the flare light and look so much like a + tree anyhow. I guess that's what saved him. He never moved until he + was done, and then didn't he stay with us pioneers after the rest + had gone until we filled up. Say, he's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet he's all right,” said Sergeant Mackay, “and + he's gettin' in his work with the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, 'gettin' in his work'?” + enquired the pioneer sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, you know,” said Sergeant Mackay awkwardly, “he's + makin' 'em think a lot different about things. I know he has + 'em tied up all right in their language.” And this was as near + to a confession of faith as the sergeant cared to go. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can see a difference myself up the line,” said the + pioneer sergeant. “The boys used to get out of his way. He used to + jump on 'em something fierce. You remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh-uh!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they just love to have him drop in now and they tell him + things. I saw Corporal Thom the other night showin' him his girl's + picture, and the Pilot thought she was a fine girl too, and got her + address down, and said he was going to write her and tell her what a fine + chap the corporal was, and you ought to see Corporal Thom swell up until + he 'most bust his tunic.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know the corporal's dippy about the Pilot,” said + Sergeant Mackay. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the officers, too,” said the pioneer sergeant. + “There's Captain Duff. Well, you know what a holy terror he + is.” + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” said Sergeant Mackay stoutly. “He + was my chief for about a month here, and he was the first one to get this + transport licked into shape, you bet.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not saying anything against Captain Duff, but he was a + roughneck, you know well enough, and I guess he hadn't much use for + the Pilot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know all about that,” said Sergeant Mackay. “The + Pilot used to go up with us on the transport. It was awful hard on Captain + Duff, handlin' the column and the mules and all the rest, to hold in + when the Pilot was along. The captain, he had to come round now and then + to the rear. There he would have a lovely time for a few minutes, with the + Pilot safe up in front. But the Pilot calmed him down all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and there's that young Captain Fraser,” said the + pioneer sergeant, with a note of enthusiasm in his monotonous voice. + “There a soldier. He just loved fightin'. I remember the night + he got his wound. It was on a raid of course. If there was a raid on, + Captain Neil was sure to be there. He just about got his arm blown off, + but they say he's goin' to be all right. I was at the + regimental aid post when they fetched him in. Oh, he was a dirty mess, + face all cut up, and his arm hangin', and not a word out of him + until the Pilot comes along. Then he begins to chirp up and the Pilot + starts jollyin' him along one minute and sayin' Psalms to him + the next minute, and little prayers, and the boys around listenin', + sometimes grinnin' and sometimes all choked up, but I'm awful + glad Captain Neil is comin' round all right.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the pioneer sergeant had his crosses finished. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, as he set the crosses against the wall, + “there's three of the finest officers we ever had in this + battalion. You take 'em up to-night when you go, sergeant.” + </p> + <p> + “We're not going up to-night. The boys are coming out this + evening,” replied Sergeant Mackay. + </p> + <p> + “No? Is that so? I never heard that. Guess I'll have to go up + with some other outfit. Comin' out this evening? Well, it's + time they were. They've had one hell all the time, I hear, this + tour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Sergeant Mackay, “and the highlanders + are sending up their band to meet them and play them out. I call that a + mighty fine thing to do. You know our own band had to go up with water and + rations last night, and they can't get out until to-night. So the + Highlanders' band—” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty good band, too, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Best pipe band in the army,” said Sergeant Mackay with + enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a pipe band!” exclaimed the pioneer sergeant in a + disappointed tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a pipe band, what else?” enquired Sergeant Mackay + truculently. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't they send up their real band, when they're + doin' it, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “What!” shouted Sergeant Mackay. “I'll tell you. + For the same reason that they don't make you O. C. in this + battalion, you damned fat lobster! There now, you've started me + swearin' again, and I was quittin' it.” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Mackay's wrath at the slur cast upon the pipe band, the + only band, in his opinion, worthy of any real man's attention, was + intensified by his lapse into his habit of profanity, which, out of + deference to the Pilot, he for some weeks had been earnestly striving to + hold in check. + </p> + <p> + “Oh well, Scotty, don't spoil your record for me. I guess a + pipe band is all right for them that likes that kind of music. For me, I + can't ever tell when they quit tunin' up and begin to play.” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Mackay looked at him with darkening face, evidently uncertain as + to what course he should adopt—whether to “turn himself loose” + upon this benighted Englishman or to abandon him to his deserved condition + of fatuous ignorance. He decided upon the latter course. In portentous + silence he turned his back upon Fatty Matthews and walked the whole length + of the line to get a mule back over the rope. It took him some little time + for the mule had his own mind about the manoeuvre and the sergeant was + unwontedly deliberate and gentle with him. Then, the manoeuver executed, + he walked slowly back to the pioneer sergeant and in restrained and + carefully chosen speech addressed him. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Fatty, I'm askin' you, don't you ever + say things like that outside of these lines, for the sake of the regiment, + you know. I'd really hate the other battalions to know we had got + such—” He halted himself abruptly and then proceeded more + quietly, “A man as you in this battalion. My God, Fatty, they'd + think your brains had run down into your pants. I know they haven't, + because I know you haven't any.” He took a fresh breath, and + continued his address in a tone of patient remonstrance. “Why, man, + don't you know that wherever the British Army has gone, its Highland + regiments have cleared the way; and that when the pipes get playin' + the devil himself couldn't hold them back?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder,” said Fatty innocently. “They + make a man feel like fightin' all right.” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Mackay scanned his face narrowly, uncertain as to whether he + should credit the pioneer sergeant with intelligence sufficient to produce + a sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “What I mean is,” exclaimed Fatty, seeking to appease the + wrathful transport sergeant, “when you hear them pipes, you get so + stirred up, you know, that you just feel like kullin' somebody.” + </p> + <p> + This apparently did not improve matters with Sergeant Mackay. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, darn it, you know what I mean!” + </p> + <p> + “No, Fatty,” said the sergeant solemnly. “I don't + know what you mean, but I'll suggest this to you, Fatty. You go down + to that Pete mule, down there at the end of the line and talk to him. I + guess he'll understand you. I'm busy just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see what you're so hot about,” said the + pioneer sergeant in an aggravated voice, “but I'm going to see + the boys come in anyway.” + </p> + <p> + When the distant sound of the pipes coming from the direction of the front + line was heard in camp, men of the various transport lines and base units + lined up to watch the battalion come in. For the rumour had run that they + had had a bad go, that they had beaten back no less than three rather + formidable raids of the enemy and had been badly cut up. More than that, + by reason of the lack of reinforcements, they had had to do a double tour, + so that they were returning from an experience of thirteen days, in what + was indeed the veritable mouth of hell. + </p> + <p> + “I guess they are all pretty well all in,” said Sergeant + Matthews, who, standing with his pioneers, had been carefully avoided by + his friend Sergeant Mackay. That enthusiastic Scot had for the time being + abandoned his transport, and was fraternising with the transport men of + the Highlanders, with whom he was sure he would feel himself in more + complete accord. + </p> + <p> + “Here they come, boys,” said a Scot, as the sound of the pipes + grew louder. “There's a drummer for ye. Listen 'til that + double roll, wull ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, Danny, the boys will be shovin' out their chests and + hitchin' their hips about something awful.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye may say that, Hec. Will ye look at young Angus on the big drum, + man, but he has got the gr-rand style on him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, boys, they are the la-ads,” said Sergeant Mackay, + yielding to the influence of his environment and casually dropping into + the cadence of the Highlanders about him, which, during his ten years in + the west, his tongue had well-nigh lost. “It's a very fine + thing, your pipers are doing, playing our boys out in this way, and we won't + be forgetting that in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Why for no?” enquired Hec, in surprise. “It's the + Highlanders themselves that love a bonny fighter.” + </p> + <p> + Down the road, between lines of silent men, came the pipers with waving + kilts and flying tartans, swinging along in their long swaying stride, + young Angus doing wonders on the big drum, with his whirling sticks, and + every piper blowing his loudest, and marching his proudest. Behind them + came the men of the battalion marching at attention, their colonel at + their head, grave of face and steady. Behind the colonel marched Major + Bayne, in place of the senior major, whom illness had prevented from + accompanying the battalion on this last tour, no longer rotund and cheery + as was his wont, but with face grey, serious and deep lined. After him at + the head of A Company marched Captain Duff, his rugged, heavy face looking + thinner and longer than its wont but even fiercer than ever. With eyes + that looked straight before then, heedless of the line of silent + onlookers, the men marched on, something in their set, haggard faces + forbidding applause. At the rear of the column marched the chaplain alone, + and every one knew that he had left up in the Salient behind him his + friend and comrade, the M. O., whose place in all other marching had been + at his right hand. All knew too how during this last go, in the face of + death in its most terrifying form, they had carried out their wounded + comrades one by one until all were brought to safety. And all knew too, + how the chaplain carried with him that day a sore and lonely heart for the + loss of one who was more to him than batman, and who had become his loyal + and devoted friend. The chaplain's face was gaunt and thin, with + hollow cheeks, but for all that, it wore a look of serene detachment. + </p> + <p> + “Say, he looks awful tough,” said a voice in Sergeant Mackay's + ear. + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Mackay turned sharply around upon Fatty Matthews. + </p> + <p> + “Tough! Tough!” he exclaimed, with a choke in his voice. + “You're a damned liar, that's what you are. He looks + fine. He looks fine,” he added again furiously. “He looks as + if hell itself couldn't scare him.” + </p> + <p> + In the sergeant's eyes strange lights were glistening. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you're right, sergeant,” said Fatty Matthews + humbly. “You're right, and that's where he's been, + too, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + Bravely and gallantly, with the historic and immortal “Cock o' + the North” shrilling out on the evening air, the pipers played them + on to the battalion parade ground, where they halted, silent still and + with that strange air of detached indifference still upon them. They had + been through hell. Nothing else could surprise them. All else, indeed, + seemed paltry. + </p> + <p> + Briefly, but with heart-reaching words, the colonel thanked the pipers for + what he called “an act of fine and brotherly courtesy.” Then + turning to his men, he spoke a few words before dismissal. + </p> + <p> + “Men, you have passed through a long and hard time of testing. You + have not failed. I am not going to praise you, but I want you to know that + I am proud of you. Proud to be your commanding officer. I know that + whatever is before us, you will show the same spirit of endurance and + courage. + </p> + <p> + “We have lost this time twenty-nine men, eleven of them killed, and + with these three very brave and very gallant officers, among them our + medical officer, a very great loss to this battalion. These men did their + duty to the last. We loved them. We shall miss them, but to-day we are + proud of them. Let us give three cheers for our gallant dead.” + </p> + <p> + With no joyous outburst, but with a note of fierce, strained + determination, came the cheers. In spite of all he could do, Barry could + not prevent a shudder as he heard the men about him cheering for those + whom he had so recently seen lying, some of them sorely mutilated, in + their grey blankets. + </p> + <p> + “Now, men,” concluded the O. C., “we must 'carry + on.' You will have a couple of hours in which to clean up and have + supper, and then we shall have to-night a cinema show, to which I hope you + will all come, and which I hope you will all greatly enjoy.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel's little speeches, as a rule, elicited appreciative + cheers, but this afternoon there was only a grave silence. After + dismissal, the men went to their huts and were soon busy giving themselves + a “high mark scrub” preliminary to the hot bath and “jungle + hunt” in which they would indulge themselves to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + As Barry was moving off the parade ground, the junior major caught up to + him, and took him by the arm and said: + </p> + <p> + “I have sent around my batman to your hut. He will look after you + until I can pick out a man from the new draft. We all know how you feel + about Hobbs, old man.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, major,” said Barry quietly. “I appreciate + that.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be around to-night,” continued the major. + </p> + <p> + “No, I think not. I have a lot of things to do. All those letters to + write.” Barry shuddered as he spoke. For nothing in all his + ministerial experience was to him a more exhausting and heartbreaking task + than the writing of these letters to the relatives and friends of his dead + comrades. + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better come,” said the major earnestly. + “I know the O. C. would like it, and the boys would like it too.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” said Barry. “Then I'll be + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Good man,” said Major Bayne, patting him on the shoulder. + “That's the stuff we like in this battalion.” + </p> + <p> + Barry found his hut in order, his things out for airing, his tub ready, + and supper in preparation. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Monroe,” he said to Major Bayne's batman, as he + passed into his hut. + </p> + <p> + As he entered his hut and closed the door, for the first time there swept + over his soul an appalling and desolating sense of loneliness. It was his + first moment of quiet, his first leisure to think of himself for almost + two weeks. With the loss of his batman there had been snapped the last + link with that old home life of his, now so remote but all the dearer for + that. It came to him that while he remained a soldier, this was to be his + continual experience. Upon his return from every tour new gaps would stare + at him. Up in the lines they did not so terribly obtrude themselves, but + back here in rest billets they thrust themselves upon him like hideous + mutilations upon a well loved face. He could hardly force himself to + remove his muddy, filthy clothes. He would gladly have laid himself down + upon his cot just as he was, and given himself up to the luxury of his + grief and loneliness, until sleep should come, but his life as a soldier + had taught him something. These months of discipline, and especially these + last months of companionship with his battalion through the terrible + experiences of war, had wrought into the very fibre of his life a sense of + unity with and responsibility for his comrades. His every emotion of loss, + of grief, of heart-sickness carried with it the immediate suggestion and + remembrance that his comrades too were passing through a like experience, + and this was his salvation. Weary, sick, desolate as he felt himself in + this hour, he remembered that many of his comrades were as he, weary, and + sick and desolate. He wondered how the major's batman felt. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monroe,” he said with an attempt at a voice of cheer, + “pretty tough go this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, very tough,” said Monroe. “I lost my chum + this time,” he added after a few moments' silence. + </p> + <p> + “Poor chap,” said Barry. “I'm awfully sorry for + you. It's hard to leave a friend up there.” + </p> + <p> + “It is that, sir,” replied Monroe, and then he added hurriedly + but with hesitation, “and if you will pardon me, sir, we all know it's + awful tough for you. The boys all feel for you, sir, believe me.” + </p> + <p> + The unexpected touch of sympathy was too much for Barry's + self-control. A rush of warm tears came to his eyes and choked his voice. + For some minutes he busied himself with his undressing, but Monroe + continued speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, the Wapiti bunch is getting pretty small. Corporal Thom + was with me—” + </p> + <p> + “Corporal Thom!” cried Barry. “Was Corporal Thom your + chum?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, for six years we was on the Bar U. M. together. We was + awful close friends. He was a good chum.” + </p> + <p> + “Corporal Thom!” exclaimed Barry again; “he was your + chum! He was a great friend of mine too. You have indeed suffered a great + loss.” + </p> + <p> + “He thought a lot of you, sir,” said Monroe. “He has + often talked to me about you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what a splendid death!” cried Barry. “Perfectly + glorious!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't hear, sir,” said Monroe; “I came down + three days ago, and only heard that a bomb got him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, splendid,” said Barry. “Nothing finer in the war. + Let me tell you about it. There was an enemy raid coming up. The corporal + had got wind of it and called his men out. They rushed into the front line + bay. Just as they got there, eight or ten of them, a live bomb fell + hissing among them. They all rushed to one end of the bay, but the + corporal kicked the bomb to the other end, and then threw himself on top + of it. He was blown to pieces, but no one else was hurt.” + </p> + <p> + During the recital of this tale, Monroe stood looking at Barry and when he + had finished his eyes were shining with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir, he was a man, sir,” he said at length. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you have said it, Monroe. He was a man, just a common man, but + uncommonly like God, for He did the same thing. He gave Himself for us.” + </p> + <p> + Monroe turned away to his work in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Monroe,” said Barry, calling him back, “look here, lad, + it would not be right for us to grieve too much for Corporal Thom. We + ought to be thankful for him and proud of him, should we not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I know, sir, but,” he added while his lip trembled, + “you hate to lose your chum.” + </p> + <p> + Only under compulsion of his conscience did Barry go to the cinema show + that night, which in this camp was run under the chaplain service and by a + chaplain. He knew what the thing would be like. His whole soul shrunk from + the silly, melodramatic films which he knew would constitute the programme + as from a nauseating dose of medicine. The billboard announced a double + header, a trite and, especially to Canadians, a ridiculous representation + of the experiences of John Bull and his wife and pretty daughter as + immigrants to the Canadian Northwest, which was to be followed by the + immortal Charlie Chaplin. + </p> + <p> + The cinema hut was jammed—the whole battalion, now much reduced in + numbers, officers and men being present, and with them the men of the base + units and transports of other battalions. It was in some senses an unusual + gathering. There was an entire absence of the wonted chaff and uproarious + horseplay; instead a grave and almost bored air rested upon the men's + faces. The appalling experiences of the past thirteen days seemed to dwarf + all other things in comparison. They had been in the presence of the Big + Thing; all else seemed petty; they had been looking into death's + cold eyes; after that other sights seemed trivial. Many of them carried + sore hearts for their comrades with whom they had at other times + foregathered in just such circumstances as these, but nevermore again. + </p> + <p> + It was the custom in the battalion, as the officers came into such + gatherings as this, to receive them with a ripple of applause, but + to-night there was silence. Barry arrived late. When he appeared there + fell upon the men a hush, and then as he moved toward the front seats + reserved for the officers, the men began to rise until the whole battalion + was standing silent and motionless, and so remained until he had found a + seat. It was Major Bayne who called his attention to this unusual + demonstration, which was reserved only for great occasions and for nothing + less than a battalion commander. + </p> + <p> + “They are saluting you, Pilot,” said Major Bayne in a whisper, + himself standing with the other officers. + </p> + <p> + Barry quickly lifted his eyes, saw the men standing, with all eyes + directed toward him, slowly looked over the rows of faces, smiled a bright + but slightly wavering smile, turned and saluted the Commanding Officer, + and sat down all trembling and shaken by this most touching tribute of + sympathy and affection. + </p> + <p> + The show began with some pictures of great allied leaders which excited a + mild interest and drew some perfunctory applause. Then came the tragic + comedy of John Bull's experiences as an immigrant, when just as the + interest began to deepen, the machine blew up, and the pictures were off + for the night. + </p> + <p> + Ordinarily such a contretemps would have been by no means fatal to the + evening's enjoyment, for in the battalion there was no lack of + musical and other talent, and an impromptu entertainment was easily + possible. Ordinarily, too, in such an emergency there would at once have + arisen a demand for the chaplain, who had come to be recognised as a great + standby in times of need such as this. To-night, however, everything + seemed changed. The mild suggestion of one of the men that the chaplain + should take the piano was promptly discouraged by the dissenting growls of + the others present. They knew well how their chaplain was feeling. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” asked Major Bayne of Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Get Coleman to the piano. He is a perfect wizard,” suggested + Barry, indicating a young lieutenant who had come to the battalion with + the recent draft, and who had done some accompaniments for Barry's + violin playing. + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Coleman, on being called for, went to the piano, and began to + play. He was indeed a wizard as Barry had said, with a genius for ragtime + and popular music hall ditties, and possessed also of the further gift of + improvisation that made his services invaluable on just such an occasion + as this. + </p> + <p> + From one popular air to another he wandered, each executed with greater + brilliance than the last, but he failed to excite anything more than a + mild interest and approval. The old songs which on other occasions had + been wont to let loose the song birds of the battalion seemed to have lost + their power. It was not gloom, but a settled and immovable apathy which + apparently nothing could break. + </p> + <p> + “This is going awfully slow,” said Major Bayne to Barry. + “I wish something could be done.” + </p> + <p> + “The boys are tired out,” answered Barry, himself weary and + sick of the performance and longing more than anything else for solitude + and his cot. + </p> + <p> + The Commanding Officer came over and sat beside them. He was obviously + worried and uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like this,” he said to the major. “Coleman + is doing his best, and is doing mighty well, but there is no heart in the + boys, and it isn't entirely due to physical weakness. I wish we + could start something that would wake them up before they leave. They + would sleep much better.” + </p> + <p> + “The Pilot here can do it,” said Major Bayne in an undertone, + “but I rather hate to ask him for he is pretty much all in.” + </p> + <p> + They sat a little while longer listening to the men's half hearted + drawling of “The Tulip and the Rose.” + </p> + <p> + “This won't do,” said the O. C. abruptly. “Get + Dunbar over here.” + </p> + <p> + “Dunbar,” said the O. C. when Barry had come to him. “This + thing is as dull as ditchwater. I want to get the boys started up a bit. + They are hopelessly dull. Look at their eyes. Do you know what they are + seeing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Barry, “they are seeing what they have + been looking at for the last thirteen days.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Dunbar, and that's what I want them to forget. + Now I know you don't feel very fit, and I hate to ask you, but I + believe you can do something for the men with that violin of yours. What + do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already sent a man for it,” said Major Bayne. “I + knew he'd do it, and his violin lies there under the piano.” + </p> + <p> + Without announcement or preface Barry walked straight to the stage where + Coleman, having miserably failed to strike fire with “The Tulip and + the Rose,” was grinding out, with great diligence and conscientious + energy, “Irish Eyes.” Barry picked up his violin from the + floor, mounted the stage, laid his violin on the piano, then he took his + place behind the pianist and, bending over him, reached down, caught him + under the legs and while still in full tide of his performance, lifted him + squarely off the stool and deposited him upon a chair at one side of the + stage. Then, ignoring the amazed look upon Coleman's face, he + proceeded gravely to tune his violin to the piano. The act itself, the + cool neatness with which it was performed, the astonished face of the + outraged pianist, all together created a situation excessively funny. The + effect upon the audience was first one of surprise, then of unalloyed + delight. Immediately every man in the hall was wide awake, and as the + humour of the situation grew upon them, they began to cheer in quite a + lively manner. + </p> + <p> + When Barry put his violin to his chin they cheered again, for often had he + bewitched them with the magic of his instrument. + </p> + <p> + Before he began to play, he glanced over his shoulder at the discomfited + Coleman and remarked in an undertone, perfectly audible throughout the + hall, “Now we'll have some music.” + </p> + <p> + Again the audience went off in a perfect storm of delighted cheers, which + were renewed from time to time as Barry would turn looking with a grave + face upon the still amazed Coleman, not yet quite recovered from his first + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + When quiet was finally restored, Barry began to play. For his opening + number he made a daring choice. It was the intricate but altogether + tuneful Ballade and Polonaise by Vieuxtemps. Throughout the somewhat + lengthy number he held his audience fixed under the mastery of his art. It + was a triumph immediate and complete. When he had finished the last + brilliant movement of the Polonaise, the men burst again into enthusiastic + cheering, moved not only by the music but more by the spirit of their + chaplain, which they could not fail to understand and appreciate. + </p> + <p> + He had already achieved what the O. C. had desired, but he was not yet + done with them. Having finished his classical selection, which he was + quite well aware Coleman could not touch, he turned to the latter and + gravely motioned him to the piano stool. Coleman hesitated, not knowing + quite what would be demanded of him. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Coleman, be a sport,” shouted a young officer, the + audience joining once more in encouraging cheers. + </p> + <p> + Still Coleman hesitated. One never knew just what vagary the chaplain + might put on. Failing to move him by imploring gesture, Barry finally + approached him, and with elaborate, courteous formality, offered him his + hand, and finally conducted him to the piano stool. Again the delighted + audience went into a roar of cheers. + </p> + <p> + From that moment, and for a full hour, Barry had them at his will, now + listening spellbound to some simple old heart song, now beating hand and + foot to a reel, now roaring to the limit of their lung power some old and + well-loved popular air. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't he a bird?” said the major to the Commanding + Officer. + </p> + <p> + “He's fine,” assented the Commanding Officer with a + great sigh. “I can't tell you what a burden he has lifted from + me. It's worth a week's rest to the men, and, poor chaps, they + need it.” Lowering his voice, he leaned over to the major and said, + “We may be going up again to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow night, colonel!” exclaimed the major, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word, but I have exceedingly grave news. The front line is + driven in. One of the battalions holding is completely wiped out.” + </p> + <p> + “Wiped out? Good God, and where are the enemy?” + </p> + <p> + “As far as I can hear, although I haven't the particulars, + they have broken through from Hooge to Hill 60, are through Sanctuary + Wood, and down to Maple Copse. Two relief battalions have gone up and are + holding. The chances are we shall have to go to back them up to-morrow + evening. It's hard on the boys, for they have come through a long + and bitter experience, but not a word of this, major, to any one. We shall + let them have their rest to-night. That's why I was so anxious about + this entertainment. That's why I am particularly grateful to that + Pilot of ours. He is a wonder, and by the look of him he is about all in. + He is staying magnificently with the game. And now, major, I am going to + do something that will please him immensely. At least I think it will.” + </p> + <p> + At a pause in the music, the O. C. arose and moved toward the stage. Barry + at once stepped back to the rear. Standing before the men, the O. C. spoke + briefly: + </p> + <p> + “I wish to thank in your name, men, our chaplain, and his assistant, + Mr. Coleman, for the very delightful evening they have given us. I know + how you feel by the way I feel myself. I need say no more, and now, seeing + that we have missed our parade service for the last two Sundays, and as I + should not like the chaplain to become rusty in his duty, I'm going + to ask him to bring our very pleasant evening to a close with a little + service such as he himself would suggest.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly were the words out of his mouth, when Barry took up his violin and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Boys, did you have a good time to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; you bet we had, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, if you had, sing this,” and recited for them the + first verses of the old hymn, + </p> + <p> + “Abide with me, fast falls the even tide.” + </p> + <p> + When they had sung the first verse, he said again: + </p> + <p> + “Now sing these words,” and once more he recited the stirring + verse: + </p> + <p> + “I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless.” + </p> + <p> + When they had finished the verse, he said to them + </p> + <p> + “Shall we have another?” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, sir!” they said. “Sure thing!” “Finish + it up!” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Barry, “sing these words”: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I need Thy presence every passing hour, + What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power.” + </pre> + <p> + Then when he had finished the verse, he dropped the violin and, moving to + the edge of the platform, said, in a voice vibrant with emotion: + </p> + <p> + “Don't sing these words, but say them as I play them for you.” + </p> + <p> + He then recited the moving words with which the old hymn closes: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; + Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies; + Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee, + In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.” + </pre> + <p> + “I want every one of you to say the words to himself as I play them.” + </p> + <p> + In long-drawn, tremulous notes he voiced the beautiful plea for aid in the + hour of man's supreme need, which finds expression in the first two + lines. Then, with his bow gripping the strings in a great sweeping + crescendo, he poured forth in full strong chords the triumphant faith with + which the hymn closes. + </p> + <p> + He laid his violin on the piano, stood quite a few moments looking upon + them, then said: + </p> + <p> + “Men, listen to these great words. They might have been written for + us, and for these days;” and he recited to them the words of the + Hebrew psalm, eloquent of courage in the face of a crumbling world: + </p> + <p> + “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. + </p> + <p> + Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the + mountains be carried into the midst of the sea. + </p> + <p> + Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake + with the swelling thereof. Selah. + </p> + <p> + There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the + holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High. + </p> + <p> + God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved. God shall help her and + that right early. + </p> + <p> + The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved; he uttered his voice, the + earth melted. + </p> + <p> + The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah. + </p> + <p> + Come, behold the words of the Lord, what desolations he hath made in the + earth. + </p> + <p> + He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, + and cutteth the spear in sunder: he burneth the chariot in the fire. + </p> + <p> + Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the heathen, I + will be exalted in the earth. + </p> + <p> + The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” + </p> + <p> + Then they followed him in the General Confession, and the Lord's + prayer. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar,” said the O. C., offering him his hand, + “you have done for us to-night a greater thing than you know just + now. You will understand better tomorrow. With all my heart I thank you on + the men's behalf and on my own behalf, for I assure you I needed it + as much as they did. I want to assure you, too, sir, that I received + to-night the thing I needed.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Barry simply, too weary to utter + another word, and staggered out, half dead with exhaustion. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, as he was leisurely undressing, and drinking the cup + of cocoa which Monroe had prepared for him, a message summoned him to the + orderly room. There he found Colonel Leighton with Major Bayne and the + company commanders. + </p> + <p> + “I have a communication here for you, Captain Dunbar,” said + the O. C., “from your D. A. C. S.,” and he passed him a little + slip. + </p> + <p> + It was the announcement of his “leave.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of that?” said the O. C. “How + does that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said Barry, uncertainty and hesitation in his + voice, “I'd like the leave, all right, but can I conveniently + be spared just now?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly,” said the O. C., “and, what's + more, I want you to go to-night. Can you get ready?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so, sir,” said Barry, wearily. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! listen to him,” said the O. C. “He hates to + leave us, doesn't he?” And they all laughed. “Now, + Dunbar,” he said, “no more posing. You catch the leave train + to-night at Poperinghe. As a matter of fact, I think it starts somewhere + about twelve.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Barry. “I think I can catch it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then good luck!” said the O. C., rising from his chair. + “Every one of us here would like to be in your place, but since it + isn't himself, every man is glad that it should be you.” + </p> + <p> + Still Barry hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I really hate to leave you, sir, just now,” he said. “I + mean that,” he added with a little nervous laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come on, Dunbar,” said the O. C. in a voice whose + gruffness might signify almost any emotion, but with a touch upon his + shoulder that Barry knew meant comradeship. “Say good-bye to the + boys here, and get out.” + </p> + <p> + They had just finished the plan for the campaign of the next night, and + every man in that little company knew that for him this might be his last + “Good-bye” to the chaplain. It only added to the depth of + their feeling that they knew that of all this Barry was unconscious. But, + whether it was that unconsciously he had gathered something of the real + significance of the situation, or whether it was that he himself had + reached the limit of emotional control, as he passed from man to man, + shaking hands in farewell, his lips refused to utter a single word, but in + his eyes were unshed tears that spoke for him. + </p> + <p> + Major Bayne followed him to the door, and outside: + </p> + <p> + “Take my horse and Monroe with you, and good-bye, old man. All sorts + of good luck. Remember that we all feel to-night that you are really one + of us, and that we are better men because we have known you. Goodbye.” + </p> + <p> + Again Barry was conscious of that strange suggestion, almost of impending + calamity. + </p> + <p> + “I hate to go, major,” he said. “I believe I'll + wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” said the major impatiently. “Take your leave + when you get your chance, and have a good time. You have earned it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE PASSING OF McCUAIG + </h3> + <p> + At Poperinghe the leave train was waiting in the station, and a little + company of officers and men were having their papers examined preparatory + to their securing transportation. Some of the officers were from his own + brigade and were known to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “A big push on at the front, I hear,” said one of them to a + friend. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, major,” said his friend. “They have been having a + perfect hell of a time.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, your men are going in to-morrow, I understand,” + said the major, turning to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so, major,” replied Barry. “We have + just come out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, I had it from fairly good authority that they were going + in to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + Barry hunted up Monroe, whom he found talking to a signaller of the + battalion. + </p> + <p> + “Did you boys hear anything about the battalion going up to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the signaller promptly. “We had it over + the wires. They are going in, all right, to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + Monroe kicked the signaller on the ankle. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear anything about it, Monroe?” enquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I don't believe these rumours at all. They are + always flying about.” + </p> + <p> + “But you say you got it over the wires?” said Barry to the + signaller. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. That is, sir, of course, we get a lot of messages. + Perhaps I'm mixed up,” said the signaller in very evident + confusion. + </p> + <p> + “And you haven't heard anything, Monroe?” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, not a thing, and I think I would have heard if there had + been any truth in it.” + </p> + <p> + Something in the childlike expression of innocence upon Monroe's + face wakened Barry's suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Monroe,” he said, “don't lie to me. + Now, I'm talking to you as your chaplain. Tell me the truth. Have + you heard of the battalion going in to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + Under Barry's eye Monroe began to squirm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I did hear a rumour of that kind.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” said Barry, turning upon the signaller, “tell + me the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, it's just as I said. We had it over the wires. The + battalion is going in.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, get my stuff, Monroe,” said Barry, quietly. + “I'm going back.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear me? Get my stuff; I'm not going out to-night.” + Barry's tone admitted no further talk, and Monroe, swearing deeply + at his friend the signaller and at his own stupidity, and especially at + his own “lack of nerve to see his lie through,” hunted out + Barry's baggage and stood ready for his officer to return. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Dunbar,” said the major, as he saw Barry about to + mount his horse. “What's up? Forgotten something? You'll + surely miss your train.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going,” said Barry briefly, getting himself + settled in his saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Not going!” exclaimed the major. “What do you mean? I + thought you were on leave.” + </p> + <p> + “Changed my mind,” said Barry cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old man,” said the major, “there may be nothing + in what I told you about the push. Anyway, you know we cannot postpone our + leave until all the fighting is over.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” replied Barry. “There are + lots of you combatant chaps in a battalion, but there is only one + chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it all,” cried the major, “take your leave. + Well,” seeing that Barry paid no heed to his advice, “the best + of luck, old man,” he said, offering his hand. “I guess you're + all right after all.” + </p> + <p> + The exhilaration that had sustained Barry during the evening suddenly + fled, leaving him flat in spirit and limp in body. What he wanted most of + all was sleep, and morning was not so far away. He rode back to his hut, + and, bidding Monroe let him sleep all day, he tumbled into bed and knew + nothing until late in the afternoon. Monroe, too, had slept in, and, after + rising, had been busy about the hut, so that he had no further information + as to the battalion's movements. The chaplain's hut was some + distance from Headquarters and from the battalion camp. Hence it came that + while Barry was writing hard at his letters throughout the remainder of + the afternoon, he was quite unaware of what was taking place. Monroe, + however, returned about six o'clock to say that the battalion had + been “standing to” all afternoon, but that the general feeling + was that there would be no advance until late at night. + </p> + <p> + Glad of the opportunity to catch up with his correspondence, Barry paid + little heed to the passing of time. His last letter was to the V. A. D., + in which he poured out the bitterness of his disappointment that he was + not even now on his way to Boulogne and to her, and expressing the hope + that after this “show” was over, he would be granted leave, + upon which happy event he would with all speed proceed to her. She had + been speaking of a trip to England. Would it not be a very wise and proper + proceeding that she should make her leave to synchronise with his? Now he + must be off, and so with love to her, and with the hope that they might + see London together— + </p> + <p> + Just then Monroe came with the startling news that the battalion had + “moved up” hours ago. + </p> + <p> + “Which road?” enquired Barry, springing to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know, sir,” replied Monroe, who had evidently his + own opinion about matters. “But I met a padre,” he continued, + “who told me that there was a stream of wounded passing through the + Brandhoek Clearing Station. He said they were very short-handed there, + sir,” and Monroe regarded his officer with anxious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I hate to take you up there, Monroe,” said Barry with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right, sir,” said Monroe, hastily, + “but I guess we'll have to hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember, Monroe, that your major and you would have sent me out + of this, but you know well enough that there's only one place for me + to-night, and the question is, where is the battalion—Ypres + Barracks, Chateau Beige, Zillebeck, or where?” + </p> + <p> + “I enquired at the transports, sir,” said Monroe, “and + no one appeared to know. They moved out quietly and left no word behind.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, we'll go up to Chateau Belge, and if they are not + there, we'll make a shot at Zillebeck,” said Barry. “We'll + go right away. We don't need a lot of truck this trip.” + </p> + <p> + It was a long and tiresome march, but Barry found himself remarkably fit, + and already under the exhilaration of what was before him. At the Chateau + Belge they found no word of their battalion, but they were informed that + the shelling on the Kruisstraat road had been bad all afternoon, and was + still going on. The Boches were paying particular attention indeed to the + crossroads. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Barry. “We'll go up and have a + look at it, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + A hundred yards further up the road they were held up by a sudden burst of + H. E. shells, which fell in near proximity to the crossroads before them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll just wait here a few minutes until we can time + these things,” said Barry, sitting down by the roadside. + </p> + <p> + As they were waiting there, three soldiers passed them at quick march. + </p> + <p> + “Better wait, boys,” called Barry; “they are dropping + quite a few shells at the crossroads.” + </p> + <p> + “We are runners, sir,” said one of them. “I guess we'll + just take a chance, thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, boys, if you think best,” replied Barry. “Good + luck!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” they said, and set off at a smart pace. + </p> + <p> + While Barry sat listening to the sound of their footsteps upon the + pavement, there came that terrific whine, followed by an appalling crash, + as a H. E. shell landed full upon the road. Barry sprang to his feet. + Three other shells followed in quick succession, then there came the sound + of hurrying feet and a man appeared, bleeding horribly and gasping. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God! My God! They are gone! They are gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said Barry. “Now, where's your wound?” + </p> + <p> + “My arm, sir,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + Barry cut off the blood-soaked sleeve, ripped open his first aid dressing, + and bound the wound up tightly. Then he put a tourniquet upon the arm + above the wound. + </p> + <p> + “The other boys killed, you say?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, blown to pieces. Oh, my God!” he groaned, + shuddering. “My chum's whole head was blown off, and the other + has his belly all torn up.” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here, old man,” said Barry, “you lie down here + where you are, and keep perfectly still,” for the man was throwing + himself about, more from shock than from pain. “We'll get you + to the dressing station in a few minutes. Monroe, run and get the + stretcher bearers, and I'll go and see how things are up yonder.” + </p> + <p> + He threw his coat over the wounded man, and set off at a run toward the + crossroads. He found matters as the man had said, the two bodies lying in + a dark patch of bloodsoaked dust, one with head quite blown off, and the + other with abdomen horribly torn. + </p> + <p> + He hurried back to the wounded man, who had recovered somewhat from his + shock and was now lying on his side quietly moaning. Barry got from him + the names and units of the men who had been killed. + </p> + <p> + “I will drop a note to your mother, too, my boy,” he said, + “and tell her about your wound.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” said the boy quickly—he was only a boy after + all—“don't tell her—at least, tell her I'm + all right. I'll be all right, won't I?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing,” said Barry, “don't you fear. I won't + alarm her, and I'll tell her what good stuff you are, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. Thank you, sir,” said the boy quietly. + </p> + <p> + “And I'll tell her, too, that you are not worrying a bit, and + that you know that you are in the keeping of your Heavenly Father. How is + that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the boy in a low voice. “I will be glad + to have you tell her that. She taught me all that, sir. Poor mother, she'll + worry though, I know,” he added with a little catch in his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Now you brace up,” said Barry firmly. “You have got off + mighty well. You have got a nice little blighty there, and you are going + to be all right. I'll give your mother the best report about you, so + that she won't worry.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you,” said the boy, with fervent gratitude, “that + will be fine. And you are right,” he added, a note of resolution + coming into his voice. “I got off mighty well, and it's only + my left arm, thank goodness. I'll brace up, sir, never fear,” + he added between his teeth, choking back a groan. + </p> + <p> + Barry accompanied the stretcher-bearer back to the chateau and gave the + man over into the care of the C. A. M. C. + </p> + <p> + “Can you put a squad on to digging a grave?” he inquired of + the officer in charge. “If so, though I'm in an awful hurry, I'll + stay to bury those poor chaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, we can,” said the officer. “We'll do + the very best we can to hurry it.” + </p> + <p> + In about an hour and a half Barry was on his way again. He dodged the + shelling at the crossroads, and following a track across the open fields, + arrived at the Zillebeck Bund without adventure. + </p> + <p> + Here to his relief he found the battalion. He made his way at once to + Headquarters, and walked in upon a meeting of officers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm—” exclaimed Colonel Leighton, checking + himself hard, “who have we here! What in hell are you doing here, + Pilot? I thought you would be safely in old Blighty by this time,” + he added, shaking him warmly by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you couldn't work that game on me, colonel,” said + Barry cheerily, going round the group of men, who gave him an eager + welcome. “You thought you had shipped me off, just as the fun was + starting, but I got on to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be darned,” said Major Bayne. “How did + you find out?” + </p> + <p> + Barry told him, adding, “You will have to train your man to lie more + cheerfully.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what comes of a man's environment,” said + the major, disgustedly. “I was always too truthful, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said Barry, turning to the colonel. “I'm + awfully glad to find you here. I was afraid I'd lost you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” said the colonel, “you have all got + your orders. Does any one want to ask a question? Well, then, it's + pretty simple after all. Two companies advance as far as Maple Copse, and + gradually work up until they feel the enemy, then put in a block and hold + against attack, at all costs. The other two companies are to follow up in + support at Zillebeck Village. Later on, when our reserves come up, and + when our guns return—I hear they are pushing them up rapidly—we + are promised a go at those devils. Meantime we have got to hold on, but I + expect the battalion will be pulled out very shortly.” + </p> + <p> + The flickering candles lit up the faces of the men crowding the dugout. + They were elaborately careless and jolly, but their eyes belied their + faces. Under the careless air there was a tense and stern look of + expectation. They were all sportsmen, and had all experienced the anxious + nervous thrill of the moments preceding a big contest. Once the ball was + off, their nervousness would go, and they would be cool and wary, playing + the game for all they had in them. + </p> + <p> + “Now, gentlemen,” said the colonel, as they prepared to leave + the dugout, “before I let you go, there is one thing I want to say. + It's a tradition of the British army that any soldier or officer who + has lost his unit marches toward the sound of the guns. I am proud + to-night that we have an example of that old tradition here. We left our + chaplain behind, and he didn't know where his battalion had gone, + but he moved toward the sound of the guns. That is what I would expect + from any of you, gentlemen, but it's none the less gratifying to + find one's expectations realised.” + </p> + <p> + Only his flaming face revealed Barry's emotion as the colonel was + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, gentlemen, carry on, and the best of luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Barry, “what about a little prayer?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” said the colonel heartily, while round the room there + ran a murmur of approval. + </p> + <p> + Barry pulled out his little Bible and read, not one of the “fighting + psalms” but the tenderly exquisite words of the Shepherd's + song. His voice was clear, steady and ringing with cheery confidence. His + prayer was in the spirit of the psalm, breathing high courage and calm + trust, even in the presence of the ultimate issue. + </p> + <p> + In a single sentence he commended his comrades to the keeping of the + Eternal God of Truth and Justice and Mercy, asking that they might be + found steadfast in their hour of testing and worthy of their country and + their cause. + </p> + <p> + Together they joined in the Lord's prayer; then lifting over them + his hands, he closed the little service with that ancient and beautiful + formula of blessing, which for two thousand years has sent men out from + the Holy Place of Meeting to face with hearts resolved whatever life might + hold for them. + </p> + <p> + One by one, as they passed out the officers shook hands with Barry, + thanking him for the service, and expressing their delight that he was + with them again. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to do with you, Pilot?” inquired the + colonel. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I'd stick around with the boys,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the colonel, gravely, “of course, there's + no use of your going up to the attack. You would only be in the way. You + would be an embarrassment to the officers. That reminds me, there was a + call from Menin Mill for you this afternoon. They are having an awful rush + there. Our own R. A. P. will be in Zillebeck Village, and our Headquarters + will be there.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go there, sir, if you agree,” said Barry, and + after some discussion the matter was so arranged. + </p> + <p> + In a ruined cellar in the village of Zillebeck, a mile and a half further + in, the R. A. P. was established and there carried on during the desperate + fighting of the next three days. Through this post a continuous stream of + wounded passed, the stretcher cases all night, the walking cases all day + and all night. In spite of its scenes of horror and suffering the R. A. P. + was a cheery spot. The new M. O. was strange to his front line business, + but he was of the right stuff, cool, quick with his fingers, and + undisturbed by the crashing of bursting shells. The stretcher bearers and + even the wounded maintained an air of resolute cheeriness, that helped to + make bearable what otherwise would have been a nightmare of unspeakable + horror. Attached to the R. A. P. was an outer building wherein the wounded + men were laid after treatment. Thither in a pause of his work, Barry would + run to administer drinks, ease the strain of an awkward position, speak a + word of cheer, say a prayer, or sing snatches of a hymn or psalm. There + was little leisure for reflection, nor if there had been would he have + indulged in reflection, knowing well that only thus could he maintain his + self-control and “carry on.” + </p> + <p> + With each wounded man there came news of the progress of the fighting. The + boys were holding splendidly, indeed were gradually eating into the enemy + front. They brought weird stories of his comrades, incidents pathetic, + humorous, heroic, according to the temperament of the narrator. But from + more than one source came tales of Knight's machine gun section to + which McCuaig was attached. Knight himself had been killed soon after + entering the line, and about his men conflicting tales were told: they + were holding a strong point, they were blown up, they had shifted their + position, they were wiped out, they were still “carrying on.” + McCuaig was the hero of every tale. He was having the time of his life. He + had gone quite mad. He was for going “out and over” alone. + </p> + <p> + The first authentic account came with young Pickles, now a runner, who + made his way hobbling to Headquarters with a message from A Company, and + who reported that he had fallen in with McCuaig by the way, and by him had + been commandeered to carry ammunition, under threat of instant death. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you see McCuaig first, Pickles?” Barry inquired, + anxious to learn the truth about his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Way up Lover's Walk,” said young Pickles, who was in + high spirits, “under a pile of brush and trees. I though it was a + wildcat, or something moving and snarling—the light was kind of dim—and + when I went up there was McCuaig. He was alone. Two or three men were + lying near him, dead, I guess, and he was swearing, and talking to himself + something fierce. I was scart stiff when he called me to him. I went over, + and he says to me, 'Say, youngster,' just like that, 'you + know where this walk used to drop down into the trench? Well, there's + a lot of machine gun ammunition over there, all fixed up and ready. You go + and bring it up here.' I tried to get out of it, sayin' I was + bringing a 'hurry up' message down, but he turns his machine + gun on me, and says, 'Young man, it's only a couple of hundred + yards down there, and fairly good cover. They can't see you. Go and + bring that stuff here. If you don't I'll blow you to hell just + where you stand.' You bet I promised. I got that ammunition so + quick. Oh, of course, he's crazy, all right,” said young + Pickles, “but he is fighting like hell. I beg pardon, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, I'm going after him,” said Barry. “He + will stay there until he bleeds to death. He is my oldest friend.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, padre, if you say so,” said the M. O., “but + it's a nasty job. I should not care for it.” + </p> + <p> + Barry knew the area thoroughly. He got from young Pickles an exact + description of the location of the spot where McCuaig had last been seen, + and with the returning stretcher bearers set off for the wood, which was + about a thousand yards further on. + </p> + <p> + The communication trench leading up to the wood, which had been + constructed with such care and of which the Canadians were so proud, had + been blown up from end to end by the systematic and thorough bombardment + of the three days before. The little party, therefore, were forced to make + their way overland by the light of the star shells. + </p> + <p> + They reached the wood in safety. Barry looked about him in utter + bewilderment. Every familiar feature of the landscape was utterly blotted + out. The beautiful ambrosial wood itself, of heavy trees and thick + tinder-brush, was a mat of tangled trunks, above which stood splintered + stubs. Not a tree, not a branch, hardly a green leaf was left. Under that + mat of fallen trunks were A and C Companies, somewhere, holding, blocking, + feeling up toward the Hun. + </p> + <p> + The shells were whining overhead, going out and coming in, but mostly + coming in. None, however, were falling on the wood because here friend and + foe were lying almost within bayonet length of each other. Only an + occasional burst from a machine gun broke the silence that hung over this + place of desolation and death. + </p> + <p> + “That's the company Headquarters,” said the stretcher + bearer, pointing to what looked like a bear den, under some fallen trees. + Barry pushed aside the blanket and poking his head in, found Duff and a + young lieutenant working at a table by the light of a guttering candle. + </p> + <p> + “For the love of God, Pilot,” exclaimed Duff, springing up and + gripping Barry's hand, “it's good to see you, but what + are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “I came up for McCuaig,” said Barry, after a warm greeting to + both. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, say, that's good. We have got him as far as the next + dugout here, the old bear. I've been trying to get him out for half + a day. There's a soldier for you! He's been potting Boches + with his blessed machine gun, scouting from one hole to another for the + last two days, and he's got a nasty wound. I'm awfully glad + you have come.” + </p> + <p> + “How are things going, Duff?” + </p> + <p> + “We have got the ——s so that they can't move a + foot, and we'll hold them, unless they bring up a lot of reserves.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! Duff, you boys are wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Duff, brushing aside the compliment, “did + young Pickles get through? That young devil is the limit. You'd have + thought he was hunting coyotes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he got through. Got a blighty though, I guess. It was he that + told me about McCuaig.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Pilot, old man,” said Duff, taking him by the arm, + “get out! Get out! Don't waste time. There may be a break any + minute. Get out of here.” + </p> + <p> + Duff was evidently in a fever of anxiety. “You had no right to come + up here anyway; though, by Jove, I'm glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the fuss, Duff?” said Barry. “Am I in any + more danger than you? I say,” he continued, with tense enthusiasm, + “do you realise, Duff, that as long as Canada lasts they will talk + of what you are doing up here these days?” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, Pilot, get out,” said Duff crossly. + “You make me nervous. Besides, you have got to get that wounded man + out, you know. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + He hustled Barry out and over to the neighbouring dugout, where they found + McCuaig with his beloved machine gun still at his side. The wounded man + was very pale, but extremely cheerful, smoking a cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to see you, sir,” he said quietly, reaching + out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good old man,” said Barry, gripping his hand hard, “but + you are a blamed old fool, you know.” + </p> + <p> + McCuaig made no reply, but there was a happy light on his face. Under Duff's + compelling urging they got the wounded man on a stretcher and started on + their long and painful carry. + </p> + <p> + “Now, boys,” warned Duff, “you are all right up here, + except for machine guns, but don't take any chances further out. + That's where the danger is. When the shells come, don't rush + things. Take your time. Now, good-bye, Pilot, it's worth a lot to + have seen you anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, old man,” said Barry, smiling at him. “You're + the stuff. Good luck, old man. God keep you.” + </p> + <p> + Duff nodded, and waved him away. The return trip was made in comparative + quiet. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, doctor?” said Barry, after the M. O. had + completed his examination. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we'll pull him through all right,” said the M. O. + “When did you get this, McCuaig?” he continued, touching a + small wound over the kidney. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno, rightly. Guess I got it when we was blown up, yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn't you come in at once?” inquired the M. + O. indignantly. + </p> + <p> + McCuaig looked at him in mild surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why, they was all blown up, and there wasn't anybody to run + the gun.” + </p> + <p> + The M. O. examined the wound more closely and shook his head at Barry. + </p> + <p> + “We won't touch that now. We'll just bandage it up. Are + you feeling pretty comfortable?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” said McCuaig with cheerful satisfaction. “We + held them up, I guess. They thought they was going to walk right over us. + They was comin' with their packs on their backs. But the boys + changed their minds for them, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + A reminiscent smile lingered upon the long, eaglelike face. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later Barry found a minute to run into the adjoining room + where the wounded lay. + </p> + <p> + “Anything you want, McCuaig?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “A drink, if you ain't too busy, but I hate to take your time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you go to thunder,” said Barry. “Take my time! What + am I for? Any pain, Mac?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not much. I'm a little sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + Barry turned the flash-light on his face. He was startled to find it grey + and drawn. He brought the M. O., who examined the wounded man's + condition. + </p> + <p> + “No pain, eh, Mac?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said McCuaig cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boy, just lie still,” said the M. O., beckoning + Barry after him. + </p> + <p> + “He is going out,” he said when they reached the dressing + room, “and he's going fast. That wound in the back has been + bleeding a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, doctor, can't anything be done? You know he's got a + remarkable constitution. Can't something be done?” + </p> + <p> + “There are times when a doctor wishes he had some other job,” + said the M. O., “and this is one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, doctor, will you get along without me for a while?” + said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said the M. O., nodding to him. + </p> + <p> + Barry took a candle and went in beside his friend. As he sat there gazing + upon the greying face, the wounded man opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That you, Barry?” he asked with a quiet smile. + </p> + <p> + Barry started. Only in the very first weeks of their acquaintance had + McCuaig called him by his first name, and never during the past months had + he used anything but his rank title. Now all rank distinctions were + obliterated. They were as man to man. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mac, it's me. Do you know what I was thinking about? I + was thinking of the first time I saw you coming down that rapid in your + canoe.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember well, Barry. I often think of it. It's a long time + ago,” said McCuaig in his soft, slow voice. “I've never + been sorry but once that I come, and that time it was my own fault, but I + didn't understand the game.” + </p> + <p> + “You've made a great soldier, Mac. We are all proud of you,” + said Barry, putting his hand upon McCuaig's. McCuaig's long + thin fingers tightened upon Barry's hand. + </p> + <p> + “I think I'm going out,” he said, with his eyes on Barry's + face. “What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + It was the time for truth telling. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mac, old man,” said Barry, putting his head down close to + him to hide from him the rush of tears that came to his eyes, “I'm + afraid you are, and I hate to have you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Barry, you crying for me?” asked McCuaig in a kind of + wonder. “Say, boy, I'm awful glad you feel that way. Somehow I + don't feel quite so lonely now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mac, you are my oldest, my best friend in the battalion, in all + the world,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I just love to hear you say that, boy. Do you know I wanted to + tell you how I felt about that time on the boat, you remember?” + Barry nodded. “Barry, tell me, honest Injun, did I make good as a + soldier?” + </p> + <p> + “The best ever,” said Barry. “They all say so, officers + and men. I heard the colonel say so the other day.” + </p> + <p> + Again the smile came. + </p> + <p> + “Barry, it was you that done that for me. You showed me, and you + done it so nice. I never forgot that, and I always wanted to tell you how + I felt about it. Barry, you done a lot for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mac, don't talk like that,” said Barry, trying to + keep his voice steady. “I did so little and I wanted to do so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, I like to hear you. I'd like to stay a little longer + just to be with you, Barry. I've watched you just like you was my + own boy, and I've been awful proud of you, but I didn't like + to say so.” + </p> + <p> + The uncovering of the great love of this simple, humble hearted man broke + down Barry's self-control. He made no effort to check his falling + tears. + </p> + <p> + “I'm getting—kind of weak, Barry,” whispered + McCuaig. “I guess I won't be long, mebbe.” + </p> + <p> + His words recalled Barry's nerve. + </p> + <p> + “Mac, would you like me to say a prayer?” he asked. “Just + as you feel about it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I would—but I ain't—your religion—you + know—though—I like—awful well—the way—you + talk about—Him.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are R. C., Mac, but after all you know we have just the + one Father in Heaven and the one Saviour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—I know, Barry. It's all the same.” + </p> + <p> + Barry had a sudden inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Wait, Mac, a minute,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He hurried out to the dressing room, seeking a crucifix, but could find + none there. + </p> + <p> + “I'll run across to Headquarters,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Say, there's a machine gun playing that street awful,” + said the M. O.'s sergeant, “to say nothing of whizzbangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” said Barry. “I'll + make a dash for it.” + </p> + <p> + But at Headquarters he was no more successful. He went out into the garden + in the rear of the R. A. P., and returned with two small twigs. The M. O. + bound them together in the form of a cross. Barry took it and hastened to + McCuaig's side. + </p> + <p> + The hurried breathing and sunken cheeks of the wounded man showed that the + end was not far. As Barry knelt beside him, he opened his eyes. There was + a look of distress upon his face, which Barry understood. God was near. + And God was terrible. He wanted his priest. + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” he whispered, “I've not—been a good + man. I haven't been—mean to anybody,—but I used—to + swear—and fight, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Mac, listen to me. We're all the same,” said Barry, in + a quiet, clear voice. “Suppose I'd injured you.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't—Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose I did some real mean thing to you, and then came and + said I was sorry, would you forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “Would I—I'd never think—of anything—you did—to + me, Barry.” + </p> + <p> + “Mac, that's the way your Father in Heaven feels to you. We + have all done wrong, but He says, 'I will blot out all your sins.' + You needn't fear to trust Him, Mac.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess—that's so, Barry—I guess that's—all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's all right. Now I'll say a prayer. Look, Mac!” + </p> + <p> + He held up the little wooden cross before his eyes. A smile of joy and + surprise transfigured the dying face. + </p> + <p> + “I see it!—I see—it!” he whispered, and made a + movement with his lips. Barry laid the cross upon them, and with that + symbol of the Divine love and of the Divine sacrifice pressed to the dying + lips, he prayed in words such as a child might use. + </p> + <p> + For some time after the prayer McCuaig lay with his eyes shut, then with a + sudden accession of strength, he opened them and looking up into Barry's + eyes, said: + </p> + <p> + “Barry, I'm all right now. . . . You helped me again.” + </p> + <p> + The long thin hands, once of such iron strength, began to wander weakly + over the blanket, until touching Barry's they closed upon it, and + held it fast. + </p> + <p> + “I—won't—forget—you—ever—” + he whispered. The nerveless fingers with difficulty lifted Barry's + hand to the cold lips. “Good—bye—Bar—ry—” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, dear old comrade. Good-bye, dear old friend,” said + Barry in a clear quiet voice, gazing through his falling tears straight + into the dying eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Good—night—” The whisper faded into silence. A + quiet smile lay on the white face. The eyes closed, there was a little + tired sigh, and the brave tender spirit passed on to join that noble + company of immortals who abide in the Presence of the Eternal God of Truth + and Love, and “go no more out forever,” because they are akin + to Him. + </p> + <p> + In the sorely tortured graveyard, beside the little shell-wrecked + Zillebeck church, in a hole made by an enemy shell, they laid McCuaig—a + fitting resting place for one who had lived his days in the free wild + spaces of the Canadian west, a fitting tomb for as gallant a soldier as + Canada ever sent forth to war to make the world free. + </p> + <p> + That night the battalion was relieved. Worn, spent, but with spirit + unbroken, they crawled out from under that matted mass of tangled trunks, + sending out their wounded before them, and leaving their buried dead + behind them, to hold with other Canadian dead the line which from St. + Julien, by Hooge, Sanctuary Wood, and Maple Copse, and Mount Sorel, and + Hill 60, and on to St. Eloi, guards the way to Ypres and to the sea. To + Canada every foot of her great domain, from sea to sea, is dear, but while + time shall last Canada will hold dear as her own that bloodsoaked sacred + soil which her dead battalions hold for Honour, Faith and Freedom. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + LONDON LEAVE AND PHYLLIS + </h3> + <p> + The leave train pulled into the Boulogne station exactly twenty-six hours + late. As Barry stepped off the train he was met by the R. T. O., an old + Imperial officer with a brisk and important military manner. + </p> + <p> + “You are the O. C. train, sir?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I am, sir,” replied Barry, saluting. + </p> + <p> + “You have had a hard time, I understand,” said the R. T. O., + drawing him off to one side and speaking in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes sir, we HAVE had a hard time,” replied Barry, “at + least the men have. This is my report, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The R. T. O. took the document, opened it, glanced hurriedly through it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” he said, “ninety-seven casualties, thirteen fatal. + Very bad. Six burned. This is truly terrible.” + </p> + <p> + “There were only two soldiers burned, sir,” replied Barry, + “but it IS terrible, especially when you think that the men were + going on leave and were supposed to have got quit of the danger zone.” + </p> + <p> + “Very, very terrible,” said the officer. “You ran off + the track, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, it was a collision. There must have been gross + carelessness, sir,” said Barry. “I trust there will be an + investigation. I have taken the liberty to suggest that, sir, in my + report.” + </p> + <p> + Barry's voice was stern. + </p> + <p> + “You need have no apprehension on that score, sir,” said the + R. T. O., with his eyes still upon the report. “This is very clear + and concise. I see you make no mention of your own services in connection + with the affair, but others have. I have had a most flattering telegram + from the officer commanding the R. A. M. C., as also from the Divisional + Commander, mentioning your initiative and resourcefulness. I assure you + this will not be forgotten. I understand you are a padre?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied Barry, who was getting rather weary of the + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “All I have to say, then, sir, is that the Canadian army must be + rich in combatant officers for, if you will pardon me, it strikes me that + there is a damned good combatant officer lost in you.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were a better padre,” replied Barry, “I would be + content.” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy you have little ground for complaint on that score,” + said the R. T. O., for the first time smiling at him. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask, sir,” replied Barry, “if my responsibility + ends here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, unless you want to take charge of the boat.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather not, sir, if you please. How long before she + sails?” + </p> + <p> + “About three hours. Have you anything to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to visit the R. A. M. C. hospital. I should also like + to phone the American hospital at Etaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, you can easily do both. I will run you up in my car, if + you care to wait a few moments until I put through some little matters + here. Then if you will be good enough to join me at breakfast, I can drive + you up afterwards to the hospital. This is my car. I think you had better + step in and sit down; you look rather used up.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow me to speak to some of the men first, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly. Do anything you like. There are your men.” + </p> + <p> + As Barry moved along the line of men drawn up on the platform, he was + followed by a rising murmur of admiration, until, as he reached a group of + officers at the end, a little Tommy, an English cockney, lifting high his + rifle, sang out: + </p> + <p> + “Naow then, lads, 'ere's to our O. D,” adding + after the cheers, “'e's a bit ov ol raa-ght, 'e + is!” + </p> + <p> + “Men,” said Barry, “I thank you for your cheers, but I + thank you more for your splendid behaviour night before last. It was + beyond praise. You couldn't save all your comrades, but you would + willingly have given your lives to save them. That's the true spirit + of the Empire. It's the spirit of Humanity. It's the spirit of + God. If I were a combatant officer—” + </p> + <p> + “You'd be a good 'un, sir,” cried a voice. + </p> + <p> + “If I were a combatant officer, I should like to lead men like you + into action.” + </p> + <p> + “We'd follow you to 'ell, sir,” shouted the little + cockney. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope not,” replied Barry. “I'm not going + that way. May I say, in wishing you every good luck, that you are a credit + to your country, and I can say nothing higher. I wish to thank the + officers who so splendidly did their duty and gave such valuable service. + Good luck to you, boys, and give my love to all at home.” + </p> + <p> + Again the men broke into cheers, and Barry, shaking hands with the + officers, turned away toward the car. As he was entering the car, Sergeant + Matthews came over to him. + </p> + <p> + “I want to thank you, sir, for getting me free of the R. A. M. C. up + there. I feel rather bad, but since my wife is waiting to meet me in + London, I was anxious to get through.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sergeant,” replied Barry. “I'll get + you to a hospital in London, when we arrive. You are not feeling too + badly, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “A little shook up, sir,” said the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + At the R. A. M. C. hospital a bitter disappointment awaited him. He found + that the V. A. D. had departed for England, but just where no one seemed + to know. In her last letter to him, received before the last tour in the + trenches, she had mentioned the possibility of a visit to London, and had + promised him further information before her departure, but no further word + had he received. + </p> + <p> + His inquiry at Etaples was equally unproductive of result. Paula and her + father had also gone to England. They had taken the V. A. D. with them, + and their address was unknown. The matron of the hospital believed that + they had planned a motor trip to Scotland, for they had carried Captain + Neil Fraser off with them, and were planning a visit to his home. They + expected to return in about three weeks. + </p> + <p> + By the bitterness of his disappointment, Barry realised how greatly he had + counted on this meeting with his friends. Were it not for the hope of + being able to discover them in England, he would have turned back up the + line, there and then, and found among the only friends he had on this side + of the ocean relief from the intolerable weight of loneliness that was + bearing him down. + </p> + <p> + He walked out to the cemetery, and stood beside his father's grave. + There for the first time it came over him that henceforth he must go all + the way of his life without the sight of that face, without the touch of + that hand on his shoulder, without the cheer of that voice. In floods his + sense of loss swept his soul. It took all his manhood to refrain from + throwing himself prone upon the little mound and yielding to the agony + that flooded his soul, and that wrought in his heart physical pain. By a + resolute act of will, he held himself erect. While he blamed and despised + himself for his weakness, he was unable to shake it off. He did not know + that his mental and emotional state was in large measure a physical + reaction from the prolonged period of exhausting strain, his treble tour + in the trenches, with its unrelieved sense of impending destruction, that + its endless procession of broken, torn bodies, with its nights of + sleepless activity, with its eternal struggle against depression, + consequent upon the loss of his comrades, its eternal striving after + cheeriness and more than all the shock of the train wreck, with its scenes + of horror; all this had combined to reduce his physical powers of + resistance to the point of utter exhaustion. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there in that cemetery with its rows of crosses, silently + eloquent of heroism and of sacrifice, the spirit of the place seemed to + breathe into him new life. As his eyes fell upon the cross bearing his + father's name, he seemed to see again that erect and gallant figure, + instinct with life and courage. There came to him the memory of a scene he + had never forgotten. Again he was with his father in the little home + cottage. How dear it had been to him then! How dear to him, today! Once + more he felt the strong grip of his father's hand and heard his + father's voice: + </p> + <p> + “Good night, boy. We don't know what is before us, defeat, + loss, suffering, that part is not in our hands altogether, but the shame + of the quitter never need and never shall be ours.” + </p> + <p> + Unconsciously as if he were in the presence of a superior officer, he + lifted his hand in salute, and with a sense of renewal of his vital + energies he returned to the boat. + </p> + <p> + During the crossing his mind was chiefly occupied with the problem of + discovering the whereabouts of the V. A. D. or his American friends. He + had never learned her London address, if indeed she had one. He remembered + that she had told him that her home had been turned into a hospital. He + had some slight hope that he might be able to trace her by the aid of her + uncle. + </p> + <p> + Arrived in London, his first duty was to see Sergeant Matthews, whose + injuries in the wreck were apparently more serious than at first supposed, + safely disposed in a hospital ambulance. Thereupon he proceeded to the + Hotel Cecil, and set himself seriously to the solution of his problem. He + was too weary for clear thinking and as the result of long, confused and + very vexing cogitation, he resolved upon a letter to Commander Howard + Vincent, R. N. R. This, after much labour, he succeeded in accomplishing. + Thereafter, much too weary for food, he proceeded to his room, where he + gave himself up to the unimaginable luxury of a bath in a clean tub, and + with an unstinted supply of clean towels, after which riotous indulgence, + he betook himself to bed. As he lay stretched between the smooth clean + sheets, he found it impossible to recall a state of existence when clean + sheets had been a nightly experience. The chief regret of these + semi-unconscious moments preceding slumber was that sleep would rob him of + this delicious sense of physical cleanness and well-being. + </p> + <p> + He was wakened by a knock at his door, followed by a hesitating apology + for intrusion. Rejoicing in the luxury of his surroundings, and in the + altogether satisfying discovery that he might sleep again, he turned over + and once more was lost in profound slumber. A second time he was aroused + by a mild but somewhat anxious inquiry as to his welfare. + </p> + <p> + “I want nothing, only a little more sleep,” and again + luxuriating for a few moments in his clean sheets and his peaceful + environment, he resigned himself to sleep, to waken with a comfortable + sense of pleasant weariness, which gradually passed into a somewhat acute + sense of hunger. + </p> + <p> + He decided, after due consideration, that he would plumb the depths of + bliss, unmeasured and unknown, and have breakfast in bed. He went to the + window and looked out upon the murky light of a London day. He decided + that it was still early morning, and rang for the waiter. He was informed + by that functionary that breakfast was impossible, but that if he desired + he could be supplied with an early dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Dinner!” exclaimed Barry. + </p> + <p> + He looked at his watch, but found that he had neglected to wind it, and + that consequently it had stopped. + </p> + <p> + “What time do you make it, waiter?” + </p> + <p> + “Half after six, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He decided that he would rise for dinner, 'phoned for a paper and + his mail, and lay back between the sheets once more, striving to recapture + that rapturous sense of welfare that had enwrapped him the night before. + Luxuriating in this delightsome exercise, he glanced lazily at the heading + of his paper, and then cried, as the paper boy was leaving the room, + </p> + <p> + “Hello! here, boy! what day is this?” + </p> + <p> + “Friday, sir,” said the boy, gazing at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Friday? Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, Friday, sir. What does the paper say, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, of course. All right.” + </p> + <p> + He had gone to bed on Wednesday night. He knew that because he remembered + the date of his letter to Commander Howard Vincent, R. N. R. He made the + astounding discovery that he had slept just forty-four hours. Then he made + a second discovery and that was that of his precious eight days' + leave, three were already gone. + </p> + <p> + After he had dined he inquired at the desk for his mail, and searched + through the telegrams, but there was nothing for him. + </p> + <p> + Then he betook himself to the streets, aware that the spectre of + loneliness was hard on his trail, and swiftly catching up with him. London + was roaring around him in the dark, like a jungle full of wild beasts, of + whose shapes he could catch now and then horrid glimpses. Among all the + millions in the city, he knew of no living soul to whom he could go for + companionship, nor was there anything in form of amusement that specially + invited him. + </p> + <p> + There was Grand Opera, of course, but from its associations with his + father he knew that that would bring him only acute misery. Gladly would + he have gone to the hospitals, but they would be shut against him at this + hour. He bought an evening paper, and under a shaded lamp studied the + amusement columns. Some of the Revues he knew to be simply tiresome, + others disgusting. None of them appealed to him. Aimlessly he wandered + along the streets, heedless of his direction, conscious now and then of an + additional pang of wretchedness as he caught a glimpse now and then at a + theatre door of young officers passing in with sweet faced girls on their + arms. + </p> + <p> + At length in desperation he followed one such pair, and found himself + listening to Cinderella. Its light and delicate fancy, its sweet pathos, + its gentle humour lured him temporarily from his misery, but often there + came back upon him the bitter memory of his comrades in their horrid + environment of filth, danger and wretchedness. + </p> + <p> + He found some compensation in the thought that these officers beside him + were like himself on leave, and while he envied them, he did not grudge + them their delight in the play, and their obviously greater delight in + their lovely companions beside them, but this again was neutralised by the + bitter recollection of his own hard fate which denied him a like joy. + </p> + <p> + After the play he stood in the entrance hall, observing the crowd, + indulging his sense of ill-usage at the hands of fate as he saw the + officers lingering with many unnecessary touches over the cloaking of + their fair partners, and as he caught the answering glances and smiles + that rewarded their attentions. + </p> + <p> + His eyes followed the manoeuvrings of the painted ladies as they hovered + about the doors, boldly busy with their profession. He understood as never + before the nature of their lure and the overpowering subtlety of the + temptation cast by them over the lonely soldier in London. + </p> + <p> + Close at his side he heard a voice: + </p> + <p> + “How do you like it, boy? Not bad, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Awfully jolly, dad. It's perfectly fine of you.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and saw a grey-haired gentleman, with upright soldierly figure, + and walking with him, arm in arm, a young officer, evidently his son. He + followed them slowly to the door, and eager to share if he might the joy + of their comradeship, he listened to their talk. Then as they disappeared + into the darkness, sick at heart, he passed out of the door, stood a + moment to get his bearings, and sauntered beyond the radius of the subdued + light about the entrance, into the darkness further on. + </p> + <p> + He had gone but a few paces, and was standing beneath a shaded corner + light, meditating the crossing of the roaring street, when he heard behind + him an eager voice crying, + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar! Captain Dunbar!” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly he turned, and saw in the dim light a dainty figure, opera coat + flowing away from gleaming arms and shoulders, a face with its halo of + gold brown hair, with soft brown eyes ashine and eager parted lips, a + vision of fluttering, bewildering loveliness bearing down upon him with + outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “What,” he gasped, “you! Oh, you darling!” + </p> + <p> + He reached for her, gathered her in his arms, drew her toward him, and + before either he or she was aware of what he intended to do, kissed her + parting lips. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how dare you!” she cried, aghast, pushing him back from + her, her face in a red flame. “Oh, I'm so glad. I was afraid I + should lose you.” + </p> + <p> + Barry, appalled at his own temerity, his eyes taking in the sweet beauty + of her lovely face, stood silent, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Well, aren't you going to tell me you are glad to see me?” + she cried, smiling up at him saucily. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis,” he murmured, moving toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Stop,” she said, putting her hands out before her, as if to + hold him off. “Remember where you are. I ought to be very angry, + indeed.” + </p> + <p> + She drew him toward a dark wall. + </p> + <p> + “But you aren't angry, Phyllis. If you only knew how I have + wanted you in this awful place. Oh, I have wanted you.” + </p> + <p> + She saw that he was white and still trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Have you, Barry?” she asked, gently. “Oh, you poor boy. + I know you have been through horrible things. No, Barry, don't. You + awful man,” for his hands were moving toward her again. “You + must remember where you are. Look at all these people staring at us.” + </p> + <p> + “People,” he said, as if in a daze. “What difference do + they make? Oh, Phyllis, you are so wonderfully lovely. I can't + believe it's you, but it is, it is! I know your eyes. Are you glad + to see me?” he asked shyly, his hungry eyes upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry,” she whispered, the warm flush rising again in her + cheeks, “can't you see? Can't you see? But what am I + thinking about? Come and see mamma, and there's another dear friend + and admirer of yours with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Not Paula?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not Paula,” she said, with a subtle change in her voice. + “Come and see!” + </p> + <p> + She took his arm and brought him back to a motor standing at the theatre + entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mamma, I have had such a race,” she cried excitedly, + “and I have captured him. Barry, my mother.” + </p> + <p> + Barry took the offered hand, and gazed earnestly into the sad brown eyes + that searched his in return. + </p> + <p> + “And here's your friend,” said Phyllis. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Pilot,” said a voice from a dark corner of the car. + </p> + <p> + “What, Neil! Oh, you boy,” he cried in an ecstasy, pushing + both hands at him. “You dear old boy. How is the arm, eh? all right?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! doing awfully well,” said Captain Neil. “And you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never so well in all my life,” cried Barry. “Yet, + to think of it, ten minutes ago, or when was it, I was in there a + miserably homesick creature, envious of all the happy people about me, and + now—” + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking, his eyes were on Mrs. Vincent's face, but his + hand was holding fast to her daughter's arm. “Now it's a + lovely old town, and full of dear people.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you putting up?” asked Mrs. Vincent. + </p> + <p> + “The Cecil.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us drive you there then,” she said. + </p> + <p> + During the drive Barry sat silent for the most part, listening to Phyllis + talking excitedly and eagerly beside him, answering at random the + questions which came like rapid fire from them all, but planning meanwhile + how he should prolong these moments of bliss. + </p> + <p> + “How about supper?” he cried, as they arrived in the courtyard + of the hotel. “Come in. I want you to; you see I have so much to ask + and so much to tell Captain Fraser here, and three of my days are gone + already. Besides, I want you to awfully.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vincent looked at his face, which for all its brightness was worn and + deep-lined, and her compassionate motherly heart was stirred. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we'll come. We want to see you and to hear about + your experiences.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, bully!” cried Barry. “I shall always remember how + good you are to me to-night.” + </p> + <p> + He was overflowing with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, this is great, Neil. It's like having a bit of the old + battalion here to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + While waiting for their orders to be filled at the supper table, Captain + Neil turned suddenly to Barry and said, “What's all this about + a train wreck and the gallant O. C. train?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and this rescuing of men from burning cars,” exclaimed + Phyllis. + </p> + <p> + “And knocking out insubordinates.” + </p> + <p> + “And being mentioned in despatches.” + </p> + <p> + “And receiving cheers at the station.” + </p> + <p> + “Now where did you get all that stuff?” inquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Why, all London is ringing with it,” said Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” said Barry; “who's been stuffing you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Phyllis, “we came across your sergeant + to-day in the hospital. Such a funny man.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Fatty Matthews?” asked Barry, turning to Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was Fatty,” said Captain Neil, “and if you had + your rights by his account, you ought to be in command at this moment of + an army corps at the very least. But you were O. C. leave train, were you + not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to my dismay I was made O. C., but I met a chap, Captain + Courtney, a very decent fellow, my adjutant, and made him carry on.” + </p> + <p> + “My word, that was a stroke!” + </p> + <p> + “We had a wreck, a ghastly affair it was, though it might have been + a lot worse. The R. A. M. C. people did magnificently, and the men behaved + awfully well, so that we managed to get through.” + </p> + <p> + “And what about the O. C.?” inquired Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing special. He just saw that the others carried on. Now + tell me about you people. What have you been doing and what are you going + to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'we're here, because we're here,'” + chanted Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “And why didn't you send me word as to your movements?” + said Barry. “What hours of agony you would have spared me!” + </p> + <p> + “But I did,” replied Phyllis. “I sent you our town + address and told you everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Now isn't that rotten!” exclaimed Barry. “Never + mind, I've found you, and now what's the programme?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Captain Neil with great enthusiasm, “we + are all off to Edinburgh to-morrow, where we meet the Howlands, and then + for a motor trip through the Highlands and to my ancestral home.” + </p> + <p> + Barry's face fell. “To-morrow?” he said blankly, with a + quick look at Phyllis. “And you are all going?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” said Mrs. Vincent, “but why should you not join + the party? You need just such a change. It would do you good.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing he will,” cried Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + During the supper they had firmly resolved to taboo the war. They talked + on all manner of subjects, chiefly of the proposed motor trip, but in + spite of the ban their talk would hark back to the trenches. For Captain + Neil must know how his comrades were faring, and how his company was + carrying on, and Barry must tell him of their losses, and all of the great + achievements wrought by the men of their battalion. And Barry because his + own heart was full of all their splendid deeds let himself go. He told how + Sally and Booth had met their last call, of the M. O. and his splendid + work in rescuing the wounded. + </p> + <p> + “No word in all of this of the Pilot, I observe,” interjected + Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he just carried on!” + </p> + <p> + Then he told how at last the M. O. went out, and how on his face there was + only peace. He had to tell of Corporal Thom, and how he gave himself for + his comrades and how Cameron kept the faith, a long list of heroes he had + to enumerate, of whom the world was not worthy, whose deeds are unknown to + fame, but whose names are recorded in the books of God. And then + reverently he told of McCuaig. + </p> + <p> + As Barry talked, his heart was far away from London. He was seeing again + that line of mud bespattered men, patiently plodding up the communication + trench. He was looking upon them sleeping with worn and weary faces, in + rain and mudsoaked boots and puttees, down in their flimsy, dark dugouts. + He was hearing again the heavy “crash” of the trench mortar, + the earth shaking “crumph” of the high explosive, the swift + rush of the whizbang. Before his eyes he saw a steady line of bayonets + behind a crumbling wall, then a quick rush to meet the attack, bomb and + rifle in hand. He saw the illumined face of his dying friend. + </p> + <p> + As he told his tale, his face was glowing, his eyes gleaming as with an + inner fire. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God's Mercy!” he cried, “they are men! They + are men! Only God could make such men.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, only God,” echoed Mrs. Vincent after a long pause. + “They are God's men, and to God they go at last. Truly they + are God's own men.” + </p> + <p> + While Barry was speaking, Phyllis, her hands tightly clasped, was leaning + forward listening with glistening eyes and parted lips. Suddenly she rose, + and went hurriedly to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” said Barry, turning to Mrs. Vincent. “I + should not have talked about these things. It's Neil here that drew + me out. It's his fault.” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes Captain Neil arose and saying, “I'll see + where Phyllis has gone,” went out at the same door. + </p> + <p> + “They are very great friends,” said Mrs. Vincent. “We + are very fond of Captain Fraser. Indeed, he is like one of our family.” + </p> + <p> + “A fine, brave chap he is,” said Barry warmly, but with a + queer chill at his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis has made some very delightful friends in France. Those + Americans at Etaples were very good to her,” and she continued to + chat in her soft, gentle voice, to which Barry gave a courteous hearing + but very casual replies. His heart and his ears were attentive for the + returning footsteps of those who had so abruptly deserted them. While Mrs. + Vincent was talking, an ugly question was thrusting itself upon his + attention, demanding an answer. He could see—any one with eyes could + see—that there was between Phyllis and his friend Captain Neil some + understanding. Just what was between them Barry longed to know. It flashed + upon him that upon the answer to that question his whole future hung, for + if this girl was more than friend to Captain Neil, then the joy of life + had for him been quenched. No motor trip for him to-morrow. He had had + enough heart-wrenching to bear as it was without that. No! If between + these two a closer relation than that of mere friendship existed, his way + was clear. He would return to the trenches to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here you are, dear,” said Mrs. Vincent, as Phyllis and + Captain Neil returned to the room. “You found the air too close, I + fear.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Phyllis with simple sincerity, “it was Barry. + I saw those men, and I could not bear it. I can't bear it now.” + Her lips were still trembling, and her eyes were filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” said Barry, “when you were over there in the + midst of it all, you never once weakened. That's the wonder of it. + You just go on, doing what you must do. You haven't time to reflect, + and it's God's mercy that it is so. Thank God we have our duty + to do no matter what comes. Without that life would be unbearable.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, what about to-morrow?” said Captain Neil briskly, as + Mrs. Vincent rose from the table. “We must settle that. What about + it, Barry?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Do you think I should go? It's your party + and it's already made up.” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite,” said Phyllis, looking shyly at him. “You + belong to the party more than any of us, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what about Paula?” said Barry. “This is her party, + is it not?” + </p> + <p> + Phyllis was silent. + </p> + <p> + “I think, Captain Dunbar,” said Mrs. Vincent, “if you + would like it, you ought to go. You need something of the kind, and you + will fit in admirably with the party, I am quite sure. To-day,” she + added with a little laugh, “I was doubtful as to the propriety of + these young people going off all the way to Edinburgh by themselves, but + you know in these war times we do extraordinary things, but now if you + join them, my scruples will be removed.” + </p> + <p> + “Some chaperon,” whispered Captain Neil audibly to Phyllis. + Then he added briskly, “Well, then, that's settled. To-morrow + at 8:37 we meet at King's Cross, 8:37, remember.” + </p> + <p> + But for Barry the matter was far from settled. + </p> + <p> + “I can't quite make up my mind to-night,” he said. + “I shall be at King's Cross, however, in the morning at any + rate.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Barry,” began Phyllis, protesting, “you must—I + want—” + </p> + <p> + She ceased speaking abruptly, her face flushing and then going suddenly + white. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rot, old man,” said Captain Neil, impatiently, “you + will come. Of course he'll come,” he added to Phyllis. + </p> + <p> + They moved together out of the room, Mrs. Vincent and Captain Neil leading + the way. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry, aren't you going?” said Phyllis in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + “How can I answer that?” he replied, almost in anger. “Do + YOU ask me to go? Do YOU want me to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, we all want you to go,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Is that your answer?” His voice was tense; his face strained. + “If that is all, Phyllis, I must say 'Good-bye' + to-night. Why should I go with you? Why should I stay here in London? + There's nothing for me here. The war is the only place—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry,” she said, her eyes bright with tears, “how + unkindly, how terribly you talk.” Then with a swift change of mood + she turned upon him. “What right have you to talk like that?” + she cried in sudden wrath. “What have I done—what have we done + to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, Phyllis,” he cried desperately. “Oh, let them go + on,” he added impatiently. “For Heaven's sake, is there + no place about here where I can talk to you?” They were both pale + and trembling. “I must talk to you to-night—now—at once.” + He stood between her and the door. “Can't you see I love you? + I love you, do you hear? If you don't love me, why should I live?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry,” said the girl, in a hurried voice. “You + must not talk like this. Come this way. I know this place.” She + hurried out by a side door, down a corridor, and into a small parlour, + with cosy corners, where they were alone. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Phyllis,” said Barry, facing her, with a settled + fierceness in his voice and manner. “I am quite mad, I know, to love + you, but I do. I can't help it any more than breathing. I have no + right to tell you this, perhaps. I am nobody, and I have nothing to offer + any girl. I see that now. Oh, I see that clearly now, but I never thought + of that part of it before. I only loved you. How could I help it? I hardly + knew myself until tonight. But I know now,” he added in a voice of + triumph, the gloom lifting from his face, and the fierce light fading from + his eyes. “Yes, I know now, Phyllis. I love you. I shall always love + you. I love you and I am glad to love you. Nothing can take that from me.” + </p> + <p> + All this time she was standing before him, her face white, her lips + parted, a look of wonder, almost of fear, in the brown eyes, so bravely + holding his, her hands pressed hard upon her bosom, as if to stay its + tumult. + </p> + <p> + “I have no right to say this to you,” said Barry again. + “You belong to a great family. Perhaps you are rich. Great Heavens!” + he groaned. “I never thought of that. You are beautiful. Many men + will love you, great men and rich men will love you. You are so wonderful. + Why, there's Captain Neil, he—” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Neil,” echoed Phyllis, with infinite scorn in her + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, many men.” + </p> + <p> + “Many men,” she repeated, her lips beginning to tremble. + “Oh, Barry, can't you see? You blind boy. There's only + one man for me, Barry, and that's you, just you.” She came + near to him, laid her hands upon his breast, her eyes looking into his. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis,” he said, putting his arms round her, a great wonder + in his voice. “It can't be true! Oh, it can't be true! + Yet your eyes, your dear eyes say so. Phyllis, I do believe you love me.” + </p> + <p> + The little hands slid up around his neck; he drew her close. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis, my dear, dear, love,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + He felt her body suddenly relax, and as she leaned backwards in his arms, + still clinging to him, he bent over her and his lips met hers in a long + kiss. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + A WEDDING JOURNEY + </h3> + <p> + “Just a moment, if you please, Paula. I should like to get down a + few notes of this bit. Oh, what a view! Lake, moor, hills, mountains, + village!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Howland sprang from the car, sketchbook in hand, and ran forward to a + jutting rock that commanded the wide valley, flanked by hills, in whose + bosom lay a loch, shimmering in the morning light. The car drew up on the + brow of a long and gently sloping incline, which the road followed until + it disappeared in a turn at the village at the loch's end. + </p> + <p> + “Get the little church tower in, father, and a bit of the castle. I + can see it from here,” said Paula, standing upon the motor seat. + </p> + <p> + “I shall try this further rock,” said her father. “Ah, + here it is. Do come, all of you, and get this. Oh, what a perfectly + glorious view!” + </p> + <p> + The little group gathered about him in silence, upon a little headland + that overlooked the valley, and feasted upon the beauty that spread itself + out before them, the undulating slope and shimmering loch, the wide moors + and softly rounded hills, the dark green masses of ragged firs, and the + great white Bens in the far distance, and below them, in the midst the + human touch, in a nestling village with its Heaven-pointing spire. + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” said Paula. + </p> + <p> + From across the loch there floated up to them, soft and mellow as an angel's + song, the sound of a bell. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rowland dropped his sketchbook, took off his hat, and stood as if in + worship. The other men followed his example. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Paula, “let's go to church.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said her father, putting up his hand, and so stood for + some moments. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Scotland, Scotland!” he cried, lifting his arms high + above his head, “no wonder your children in exile weep for their + native land.” + </p> + <p> + “And your men fight and die for you,” added Paula, glancing at + Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Captain Neil, turning quickly away. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paula, “we shall go to church here, father.” + </p> + <p> + The church stood against a cluster of ancient firs, in the midst of its + quiet graves, yew shaded here and there. Beside it stood the manse, within + its sweet old garden, protected by a moss covered stone wall. + </p> + <p> + At its gate the minister stood, a dark man with silvering hair, of some + sixty years, but still erect and with a noble, intellectual face. + </p> + <p> + “Let us speak to him,” said Paula, as they left their car. + </p> + <p> + With characteristic reserve, Barry and Neil shrank from greeting a + stranger, but with fine and easy courtesy Mr. Howland bared his head, and + went up to the minister. + </p> + <p> + “We heard your bell's invitation, sir,” he said, “and + we came to worship with you.” + </p> + <p> + A grave smile touched the dark face. + </p> + <p> + “You rightly interpreted its message,” he said. “Let me + repeat its welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “We are Americans, at least my daughter and I are,” said Mr. + Howland, presenting Paula, a frank smile upon her beautiful face, “and + this is her young friend from London, Miss Vincent, and these young + officers are of the Canadian army.” + </p> + <p> + “Canadians!” exclaimed the minister, meeting them with both + hands. “Oh, you are indeed welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all in the war, sir, I would have you know,” added Mr. + Howland. + </p> + <p> + The minister looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Let me explain,” said Barry. “Mr. Rowland and his + daughter are on leave from their own hospital which they have set up in + France. Miss Vincent is from the base hospital in Boulogne.” + </p> + <p> + Like the sun breaking upon the loch in a dull day, a smile broke over the + dark face. He threw the gate wide open. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of my country, in this its dark hour, let me give you + welcome,” and once more he shook them each by the hand. “We + have still half an hour before worship,” he continued. “Pray + do me the honour of entering my manse.” + </p> + <p> + They followed him up the shrubbery-flanked gravel walk to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” he said, going before them into the manse. “Jean! + Jean!” he called. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” came a voice like the sound of a silver bell, and + from another room issued a lady with a face of rare and delicate + loveliness. Her soft, clinging black gown, with a touch of white at her + throat, served to emphasise the sweet purity of her face, but cast over it + a shade of sadness at once poignant and tender. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, this is Mrs. Robertson,” he said simply; “these + friends, Americans and Canadians, are from the war.” + </p> + <p> + At that word she came to greet them, her face illumined by a smile + inexpressibly sweet, but inexpressibly sad. “You are welcome, oh, + very welcome,” she said, in a soft Scotch voice. “Come in and + rest for a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + “Our young friend here, Captain Dunbar, is chaplain of a + distinguished Canadian regiment.” + </p> + <p> + “They are all distinguished,” said the lady. + </p> + <p> + “A chaplain?” said the minister. “My dear sir, we should + be grateful for a message for our people from the front—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, if you would,” added his wife. + </p> + <p> + “But,” protested. Barry, “I want to hear some one else + preach. One gets very tired of one's own preaching, and besides I'm + a very poor preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take that risk, but I will not press you,” said + the minister courteously. + </p> + <p> + “Do, Barry,” said Paula in a low voice, but he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I see you have some soldier friends at the front,” said Mr. + Rowland, pointing to a photograph on the mantel of a young officer in + Highland dress. + </p> + <p> + “Our son, sir,” said the minister quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Our only son,” added his wife quietly. “He was in the + Black Watch.” Her voice, with its peculiar bell-like quality, was + full of pride and tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Phyllis, turning to her with quick tears in her + eyes and holding out her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the lady, “you too? Your brother?” + </p> + <p> + “My two brothers.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child! My dear child!” said the minister's + wife, kissing her. “Your mother was greatly privileged,” she + added gently. + </p> + <p> + It was a deeply moving scene. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Mr. Howland, wiping his eyes, “forgive me, + but you mothers are the wonder of the war.” + </p> + <p> + “There are many of us in this glen, sir,” she replied. “We + cannot give our lives, sir. We can only give what is dearer than our + lives, our dear, dear sons, and, believe me, we don't grudge them.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Mr. Howland, “the whole world honours you + and wonders at you.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Barry, obeying a quick impulse, “I cannot + preach, but may I tell your people something about their boys and how + splendid they are?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the minister. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, would you?” cried his wife. “There are many there + who feel only the loss and the sorrow. You can tell them something of its + splendour.” + </p> + <p> + By this time in the eyes of all the visitors there were tears, but on the + faces of the minister and his wife there was only the serene peace of + those who within the sacred shrine of sacrifice have got a vision of its + eternal glory. + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” said Paula, drawing him aside, “I love you for + this, but do talk about something, or I shall surely cry. These people + break my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Barry, looking at them, “there are no + tears there. They have been all the way through.” + </p> + <p> + “Like people, like priest!” The folk that gathered in the + little church that morning were simple people of the glen, shepherds and + cotters from the countryside, humble villagers. They were women for the + most part, with old men and children. The girls were away at the munition + plants, the young men at the war, fighting or lying under their little + crosses or in their unknown and unmarked graves, on one of Britain's + five battle fronts, or under the tossing waters of the Seven Seas where + Britain's navy rides, guarding the world's freedom. Simple + peasant folk they were, but with that look of grave and thoughtful + steadfastness with which Scotland knows how to stamp her people. + </p> + <p> + The devotions were conducted by the minister with simple sincerity, and + with a prophet's mystic touch and a prophet's vision of things + invisible. + </p> + <p> + Barry made no attempt at a sermon. He yielded himself to the spirit of the + place, the spirit of the manse and its people, whose serene fortitude + under the burden of their sorrow had stirred him to his soul's + depths. Their spirit recalled the spirit of his own father and the spirit + of the men he had known in the trenches. He made a slight reference to the + horrors of the war. He touched lightly upon the soldiers' trials but + he told them tales of their endurance, their patience, their tenderness to + the wounded, their comradeship, their readiness to sacrifice. Before he + closed, he lifted them up to see the worth and splendour of it all and + gave them a vision of the world's regeneration through the eternal + mystery of the cross. + </p> + <p> + They listened with uplifted face, on which rested a quiet wonder, touched + with that light that only falls where sacrifice and sacrament are joined. + There were tears on many faces, but they fell quietly, without bitterness, + without passion, without despair. + </p> + <p> + A woman with a grief worn face waited for him at the foot of the pulpit + stairs, the minister's wife and Phyllis beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Finlayson wishes to speak to you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay! I jist want to say that you had the word for me the day. I + see it better the noo. A'm mair content that ma mon sud be sleepin' + oot yonder.” She held Barry's hand while she spoke, her tears + falling on it, then kissed it and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “And this,” said the minister's wife, “is Mrs. + Murray, who has given three sons, and who has just sent her last son away + this week.” + </p> + <p> + “Three sons,” echoed Barry, gazing at the strong face, beaten + and brown with the winds and suns of fifty years, “and you sent away + your last. Oh, I wonder at you. How could you?” + </p> + <p> + “A cudna haud him back wi' his three brithers lyin' oot + there, and,” she added, with a proud lift of her head, “and + wudna.” + </p> + <p> + It took some minutes for Barry to make his way through to the door. He + wanted to greet them all. He had a feeling that he was there not in his + own person but as a representative standing between two noble companies of + martyrs, those who had gone forth to die, and those who had sent them. + </p> + <p> + “You have done us a great service to-day, sir,” said the + minister in bidding Barry good-bye. + </p> + <p> + “It was a privilege to do it,” said Barry as he shook hands + with the minister and his wife. “I shall tell the men about you and + your people.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dear, is he your man?” asked the minister's + wife as she held Phyllis' hand. + </p> + <p> + “He is,” said Phyllis, glancing at Barry with shy pride. + </p> + <p> + “And he leaves you soon?” + </p> + <p> + “In two days,” replied the girl, with a quick breath. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let him away till you give yourself wholly to him. Why + not to-morrow? It's a mother's word.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I say,” cried Paula impulsively, seeking to + cover the girl's blushing confusion. “Neil,” she added, + turning to him, “I should love to be married in just such a dear + little church as this.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Neil. “I know another just like it, + and I shall show it to you next week.” + </p> + <p> + They wandered down by the loch's side. Passing a boat-renting + establishment, Paula suddenly exclaimed, + </p> + <p> + “My Land of Liberty, look there, Barry!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “A canoe,” she cried, running toward it. “A Canadian + canoe!” + </p> + <p> + “A genuine Peterboro,” he cried, following her. “Where + did you get this?” he inquired, turning to the boatman. + </p> + <p> + “My boy brought it with him from Canada, sir. He is an engineer. I + have his whole outfit in the house—tent, camp things and all. He is + at the war himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry, look at the dear thing. What does it make you think of?” + She glanced at Barry's face and added quickly, “Oh, I know. + Forgive me. I'm a fool!” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Phyllis,” said Barry, drawing her away with him. + “I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall take lunch in half an hour, Barry,” called Mr. + Howland after him. “We're due at Pitlochry, you know, for + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” said Barry. “We'll be on hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if she's got the nerve,” said Paula to Captain + Neil as they stood looking after them. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” said Captain Neil, looking at her. “Would + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Would I,” said Paula, with sudden shyness. “I—but + you are not going away in two days.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank the good Lord,” said Captain Neil, fervently, + “but, Paula, I'll not forget.” + </p> + <p> + At Pitlochry they found their mail awaiting them. + </p> + <p> + “A telegram for you, Barry,” said Paula, who had assumed the + duty of postman. + </p> + <p> + They all paused in examining their mail to watch Barry open his wire. + </p> + <p> + “Guess,” he shouted, holding his telegram high. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, glory, I know!” exclaimed Paula. “Extended leave. + How much?” + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, excellent young maid, how much elder art thou than thy + looks!'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry!” exclaimed Phyllis. “How much?” + </p> + <p> + “Five days, five whole days.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! It's the least they could do. They might have made it + ten,” grumbled Paula. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Howland, may I speak to you a moment?” Barry's look + and voice were eloquent of resolve. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Barry. Immediately?” + </p> + <p> + “If you please, sir.” + </p> + <p> + They retired to a corner, where Barry could be seen with ardent look and + vehement gesture putting his proposition to Mr. Howland, whose face showed + mingled pleasure and perplexity. The others waited patiently for the + conference to end. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Paula, “Barry ought to know by this + time that the pater simply can't make up his mind without me. I know + what they are at.” + </p> + <p> + She moved over to them. + </p> + <p> + “Now, father, of course you will do as Barry wishes,” she + declared. “Oh, I know what he wants. Now listen to me. Just wire + Mrs. Vincent that everything is perfectly all right, that you can + guarantee Barry, and that it's the sensible thing, the only thing to + do under the circumstances. Oh, we'll have it in that dear little + church. Splendid. Perfectly ripping! Eh, Phyllis? Come over here at once. + Now, father, get busy on the wire. Why waste a perfectly good hour in just + talking about it? What do you say, folks? How many say 'Ay'?” + </p> + <p> + Up went Barry's two hands, and with them Neil's and Paula's. + </p> + <p> + “What about you, miss?” asked Paula, turning wrathfully toward + Phyllis. + </p> + <p> + Phyllis walked quietly to Barry's side. + </p> + <p> + “Barry,” she said, giving him her hand, “I have decided + to be married to-morrow. I shall wire mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Barry answered her only with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said Paula, “you Britishers are the limit, + for stolid, unemotional people. Here am I shouting my head off like a + baseball fan, to get this thing put through, and you quietly walk up and + announce that everything's fixed but the band.” + </p> + <p> + The wires to London that afternoon were kept busy, a message going to Mrs. + Vincent from each member of the party, but it was felt that that from + Phyllis to her mother was really all that was necessary. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest Mamma—Barry and I are to be married tomorrow. English + law makes London impossible, as Barry has only five days. I am very happy, + feeling sure you approve. Our dearest, dearest love. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis.” + </p> + <p> + A long wire also went from Barry to Mr. Robertson, the minister of the + little church, where they had spent such a delightful hour that morning, + but this wire Barry showed to no one. + </p> + <p> + The bride's bouquet was from the manse garden, a shower of white + roses, no purer and no sweeter than the bride herself. At the church door, + the party stood shrinking from the moment of parting. At length Paula took + matters in hand. + </p> + <p> + “As usual,” she said, “the heavy work falls to me. Dear + Mrs. Robertson”—to the minister's wife—“goodbye. + I shall always love you and your dear little church.” + </p> + <p> + She put her arms around the minister's wife and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we're going to see them off,” said that lady. + “Lead the way, Captain Dunbar, please,” she added, with a + bright smile, giving him a little push. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Phyllis,” said Barry offering his wife his arm, and + they started off down the street toward the lake. + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me?” said the minister, offering his arm to + Paula, who in mystified silence took it without a word. + </p> + <p> + “May I have the pleasure?” said Mr. Howland, offering his arm + to Mrs. Robertson. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Captain Fraser,” she said gaily, offering him the other + arm. + </p> + <p> + “Just what is happening to me, I don't pretend to know,” + said Paula, “but whatever it is, America is in this thing to the + finish.” + </p> + <p> + Barry stopped at the boathouse landing. There, tied to the dock, floated + the Canadian canoe, laden with tent and camp outfit, and with extra + baskets provided from the manse. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry, how wonderful! How perfectly wonderful!” cried + Paula in an ecstasy of delight. + </p> + <p> + In that farewell there were tears and smiles, but more smiles than tears. + The last to touch their hands was Paula. She managed to draw them apart + from the others, with her eyes glistening with unaccustomed tears. “You + deserve each other. Phyllis,” she whispered, alternately shaking and + kissing her, “there was a day when I would have fought you for him, + until Neil came. Barry, you dear boy, you may kiss me goodbye, and oh, may + you both live forever.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodbye, dear Paula,” cried Phyllis. “You have been so + lovely to me from the very first. I shall never, never forget you.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodbye, Paula,” said Barry, “dearest of all dear + friends.” + </p> + <p> + She stooped to steady the canoe, while Phyllis stepped to her place in the + bow. + </p> + <p> + “Goodbye to all of you. God love you and keep you all,” said + Barry. + </p> + <p> + He took his paddle and stepped into the canoe, Paula still stooping over + it to keep it steady. + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear Barry,” she whispered, and for the first time her + tears fell. “Goodbye! Goodbye!” + </p> + <p> + Together the little company stood watching them away, Phyllis in the bow, + not paddling, sat with her face toward them, Barry swinging his paddle + with graceful, powerful strokes, until just at a curve of the shore, where + some birches overhung the water, he swung the canoe half round, and with + paddle held Voyageur fashion in salute, they passed out of sight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE PILOT'S LAST PORT + </h3> + <p> + The little Canadian army was done with The Salient. The British tradition + established in the third month of the war, in that first terrific + twenty-two days' fight by Ypres, that that deadly convex should be + no thoroughfare to Calais for the Hun, was passed on with The Salient into + Canadian hands in the early months of 1915. How the little Canadian army + preserved the tradition and barred “the road-hog of Europe” + from the channel coast for seventeen months, let history tell, and at what + cost let the dead declare who lie in unmarked graves which, following the + curving line of trenches from Langemarck through Hooge and Sanctuary Wood + over Observation Ridge to St. Eloi, and the dead under those little + crosses that crowd the cemeteries of The Salient and of the clearing + stations in the rear, and the living as well, who through life will carry + the burden of enfeebled and mutilated bodies. + </p> + <p> + For seventeen months the Canadians in shallow dugouts and behind flimsy + trenches endured the maddening pounding of the Huns' guns, big and + little, without the satisfaction of reprisal, except in raid or + counter-attack, suffering the loss of two-thirds of their entire force, + but still holding. Now at length came the welcome release. They were + ordered to the Somme. Welcome not simply because of escape from an + experience the most trying to which an army could be subjected, but + welcome chiefly because there was a chance of fighting back. + </p> + <p> + They had no illusions about that great battle area of the south, echoes of + whose titanic struggle had reached them, but they longed for a chance to + get back at their foe. Besides, the Somme challenged their fighting + spirit. That glorious assault of the first of July of the allied armies + which flung them upon the scientifically prepared, embattled and + entrenched “German Frontier,” with its fortified villages, its + gun stuffed woods, its massed parks of artillery, and defended by highly + disciplined and superbly organised soldiery, stirred them like a bugle + call. For two years the master war-makers of the world had employed + scientific knowledge, ingenuity and unlimited resources upon the + construction of a system of defence by means of which they hoped to defy + the world, and upon which when completed they displayed the vaunting + challenge, “We are ready for you; come on!” + </p> + <p> + In that great conflict there was no element of surprise. It was a + deliberate testing out of strength, physical and moral. For the first time + in the war the British army stood upon something like even terms in + manpower and in weight of metal, with, however, the immense handicap still + resting upon it that it was the attacking force. The result settled + forever the question of the fighting quality of the races. When the first + day's fight was done, on a battle front of twenty miles the British + armies had smashed a hole seven miles wide, while their gallant allies, + fighting on an eight-mile front, had captured the whole line. In two weeks' + time, the seven-mile hole was widened to ten. Fortified villages, + entrenched redoubts, woods stuffed with guns, great and small, had gone + down before that steady, relentless, crushing advance. The full + significance of the Somme had not dawned as yet upon the world. The + magnitude of the achievement was not yet estimated, but already names + hitherto unknown were flung up flaming into the world's sky in + letters of eternal fire, Ovillers, Mametz Wood, Trones Wood, Langueval, + Mouquet Farm, Deville Wood for the British, with twenty-one thousand + prisoners, and Hardecourt, Dompierre, Becquin-Court, Bussu and Fay for the + French allies, with thirty-one thousand prisoners. + </p> + <p> + On that line of carefully chosen and elaborately fortified defences, the + proudest of Germany's supermen of war had been beaten at their own + game by the civilian soldiers of “effete and luxury loving Britain,” + and the republican armies of “decadent France,” and still the + Homeric fight was raging. Foot by foot, yard by yard, the Hun was fighting + to hold the line which should make good his insolent claim to the hegemony + of the world. Step by step, yard by yard, that line was being torn from + his bloody fingers. Into that sea of fire and blood, the Canadians were to + plunge. They remembered Langemarck and Sanctuary Wood and St. Eloi, and + were not unwilling to make the plunge. They thought of those long months + in The Salient, when the ruthless Hun from his vantage ground of + overwhelming superiority had poured his deadly hail from right flank, left + flank, front and rear, upon them, holding, suffering, dying, day by day, + month by month, and they were grimly jubilant over the chance which the + Somme offered them of evening somewhat the score. + </p> + <p> + “We have something to hand Fritzie,” young Pickles was heard + to remark when he had learned of the quality of the Somme fighting, + “and I hope he'll like it, for he's got to take it.” + </p> + <p> + The battalion ranks, both officers and men, had once more been filled up. + They had a brief fortnight's training in the new open fighting under + barrage and then set off cheerfully for the “Big Game.” Ten + days they marched and countermarched in the back country, keeping clear of + those two mighty streams “up” and “down,” that + flowed between ditches and hedges along the road that led to the great + arena, and catching glimpses and echoes as they marched until, hard, fit, + keen, they joined the “upstream” flowing toward Albert. That + stream was made up of those various and multifarious elements that go to + constitute, equip and maintain a modern army. + </p> + <p> + There were marching battalions, with their mounted officers, bearing names + and insignia famous in the world's wars for two hundred years, and + with them battalions who a few brief months ago were peaceful citizens, + knowing nothing of war. There were transport columns, ammunition columns, + artillery columns, with mounted escorts. There were big guns, on huge + caterpillar trucks, shouldering the lighter traffic to the ditches, and + little guns slipping meekly in their rear. There were motor lorries, + honking and thundering their insistent way through dodging, escaping, + cursing infantry, forty-six miles of them to a single army corps. There + were strings of mules and horses with weirdly shaped burdens on their pack + saddles. There were motor cars bearing “Brass Hats,” gentle + looking individuals, excessively polite, yet somehow getting men to jump + when they spoke, and everywhere ambulances, silent and swift moving, + before whose approach the stream parted in recognition of the right of way + of these messengers of mercy over all the enginery of war. + </p> + <p> + The “down stream” was much the same, with here and there + differences. That stream flowed more swiftly. The battalions marched with + more buoyant tread. They had done their part and without shame. They had + met their foes and seen their backs. The trucks, transport and ammunition + wagons were empty and coming with a rush. Only the ambulances moved more + slowly. Carefully, with watchful avoidance of ruts and holes, which, in + spite of the army of road-mending Huns, broke up the surface of the + pavements these ambulances made their way. They must get through no matter + what was held up. + </p> + <p> + And as they flowed these streams ever and anon broke their banks and + flooded over in little eddies into villages and fields, there to tarry for + a day and a night, only to be caught up again in either one of those + resistless inevitable currents of war. + </p> + <p> + “Look before you, major,” said Barry, who was riding with the + Headquarters Company at the head of the column, as often now at the + invitation of the O. C. + </p> + <p> + The column was slowly climbing a long gentle sloping hill that reached its + apex some two or three miles away. On either side, spread out over the + fields, as far as the eye could reach, were military encampments, in + tents, in huts and in the open. Infantry units, horse lines, motor truck + parks, repair camps for motors and for guns, ammunition dumps with shells + piled high, supply sheds bulging with their canvas-covered contents, Red + Cross huts and marquees, and Y. M. C. A. tents with their cues of waiting + soldiers, getting “eats” and drinks, and comforts of various + kinds. The whole countryside was one mighty encampment packed with + munitions and supplies and thronging with horses, mules and men. + </p> + <p> + “This is war on the 'grand scale,'” said the O. C. + dropping back beside them. “From the top of this hill we can see + Albert and a part of the most famous battle-field of all time. We camp + just outside of Albert on what is known as the 'brick field,' + and in a couple of days more we shall be in it. Well,” he continued, + with a glance over the column following, “the boys never were more + fit.” + </p> + <p> + “And never more keen,” said the major. “They are right + on their toes.” + </p> + <p> + “Major, I expect to meet the divisional commander down here, and I + want you to be there. Captain Dunbar, you know him, I believe. He has + asked especially that you should be there as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I have met the General. To my mind he is an ideal + soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and an ideal officer,” said the O. C. “He knows + his job and he is always fit and keen.” + </p> + <p> + At the top of the hill, a traffic officer, a young lieutenant from the + Imperial forces, diverted the column from the road into a field. + </p> + <p> + “Why is this?” inquired the O. C. + </p> + <p> + “There's the answer, sir,” said the officer coolly. + </p> + <p> + There was a long drawn whine which rapidly grew into a shriek and an H. E. + shell dropped fair in the road, a short distance in front. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see, you have some of these birds down in this country, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, this is their breeding ground,” said the young + lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + Once more came the long whining shriek and the terrific blast of the H. + E., this time closer. + </p> + <p> + “I would not delay, sir, if I were you,” said the young chap + coolly, pulling out his cigarette case. “They get rather ugly at + times.” + </p> + <p> + “What about you?” inquired the O. C. moving off. + </p> + <p> + “Part of my job, sir,” replied the youth, saluting. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good luck, boy,” said the O. C., trotting to the head + of the column. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said the youth, turning to his job again. + </p> + <p> + They rode a hundred yards, when another shell came, there was a terrific + explosion, apparently just at the spot where the young officer had been + standing. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! I'm afraid that's got him,” said the O. + C. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go and see, sir,” said Barry, spurring his horse + back to the spot. + </p> + <p> + “Come back here, Barry,” called the major. “Darn him for + a fool! What's the use of that? That isn't his job,” he + added angrily. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks it is, probably,” said the O. C. + </p> + <p> + Barry found a great hole in the road with the officer's horse lying + disembowelled beside it, kicking in his death agony. There was no sign of + his rider anywhere. Fortunately there was a gap in the column, so that no + one else was near enough to be injured. + </p> + <p> + As Barry stood gazing about, a voice hailed him from the ditch, which was + several feet deep. + </p> + <p> + “I say, sir,” said the voice, “I wouldn't just + stay there. They generally send over four of 'em. That's only + the third. I find this ditch very convenient, though somewhat mucky.” + </p> + <p> + Barry looked at him in astonishment. He was white and shaken, covered with + mud, but trying to get his cigarette case open. + </p> + <p> + “I'd get off, sir, if I were you,” he said, “until + the next one comes. Quick, sir, I hear it now.” + </p> + <p> + Barry needed no second invitation. He flung himself headlong into the + ditch beside the young fellow, but the shell dropped into the field + beyond. + </p> + <p> + “That's as near as I like 'em,” said the young + officer, scraping the mud off his clothes. “My poor, old gee-gee got + it though.” He drew his revolver and shot the wounded animal. + “It's hard on the horses. You see, they can't dodge,” + he added. + </p> + <p> + “I say, my boy,” said Barry, for the lieutenant was only a + boy, “that was a near thing for you. What are you going to do now?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, just carry on,” said the boy. “The relief will be + along in a few hours. Beastly mess, eh?” he continued, but whether + he referred to the disembowelled horse or the state of his own uniform, + Barry could not say. + </p> + <p> + “You are sure you are all right?” said Barry, as he shook + hands with him. “I'm awfully glad you weren't hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I,” said the boy heartily. “Awfully rotten to be + potted out here playing a bally policeman, eh? What? Well, good luck, sir,” + and Barry rode off to join his column with a deep admiration in his heart + for the English school boy who, when war began, was probably a fifth form + lad, in whose life the most dangerous episode would be a ball taken full + off bat at point, or a low tackle on the Rugby field. + </p> + <p> + At Divisional Headquarters, they met the general, who after a conversation + with the O. C. greeted Barry warmly. + </p> + <p> + “So you have gone and done it, young man. Well, I admire your nerve, + and I congratulate you. I happen to know the family very well. As a matter + of fact there is some remote connection, I believe. By the way, I have a + communication from London for you,” he added, drawing Barry to one + side, and giving him a little slip. “I happen to know about it,” + he continued, while Barry was reading his telegram, “and say, if I + can be of any assistance, I shall be very glad. It's a step up, you + see. I have no doubt it can be put through quite easily and quickly, and I + believe the step is coming to you.” + </p> + <p> + Barry stood with his eyes upon the dispatch. It was an offer of a hospital + appointment at the base, and carried with it his majority. + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt the missus will be pleased, eh?” said the + general with a grin. + </p> + <p> + Barry pulled out a letter from his pocket, opened it and handed it to the + general, pointing to a paragraph. The general took it and read, + </p> + <p> + “And Barry, dear, remember that though you have a wife now, your + duty to your country is still your first duty. I would hate that any + thought of me should make it harder for you to carry on.” + </p> + <p> + The general folded up the letter, put it slowly into its envelope, and + handed it back to Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I know her,” he said simply. “I should expect nothing + else from her. You are a lucky dog, but, of course,” he added, with + a swift glance at Barry's face, “some one must take that job.” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy, sir, there are many for it, who are hardly fit for this + work up here,” replied Barry quietly. “I think, sir, I'll + just carry on where I am.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure?” inquired the general. “Don't + you want a day or two to think it over?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure, sir,” said Barry, “I am quite sure + that my wife would approve.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” said the general, “let me handle this + for you, and let me say, sir, that I am proud to have you in my division.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he gripped Barry's hand hard, and turned abruptly away to + the others. + </p> + <p> + They rode to their camp in almost complete silence, except for a grunt or + two from the O. C. who seemed in a grumpy mood. + </p> + <p> + When they arrived at Headquarters, the O. C. drew up his horse and turning + to the major, said, + </p> + <p> + “I don't know just what to do with this Pilot of ours. He is a + fool in some ways.” + </p> + <p> + “A darned fool, sir,” said the major emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued the major, “I am selfish enough to say + that I am damned glad—I won't apologise, Pilot—that he + decided to stay with us. It would have been just a little harder to carry + on if he had left us.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” growled the major, “but, oh, well, we have got to + stick it I guess. The Pilot is a soldier all right.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing further said about the matter, but next day as Barry + walked about the camp, among the men, their eyes followed him as he + passed, and every officer in the mess seemed to discover an errand that + took him to Barry's tent. + </p> + <p> + Two days later the Canadians moved up into the line and took over from the + Australians. They followed the Bapaume Road toward Pozieres, passing + through a country which had seen the heaviest fighting in the war. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said the O. C., drawing aside from the road, and + riding to a slightly rising ground, “is La Boiselle, or at least + where it was, and that I fancy is the famous mine crater. Sixty thousand + pounds of gun cotton blew up that hole.” + </p> + <p> + There was absolutely no sign of the village, the very foundations of the + houses, and the cellars having the appearance of a ploughed field. + </p> + <p> + “That was a desperate fight,” continued the O. C. “It + was here that the Middlesex men made their great charge. Fifty men + reported from the battalion when it was over. In that village they had a + whole division fighting before they were through, Middlesex men, Royal + Scots and Irish, for three days and three nights.” + </p> + <p> + As they rode along, the guns on either side began their evening chorus and + from the far rear came the roaring rush of the H. E.'s like + invisible express trains hurtling through the air. It was music to their + ears, and they rode forward with a new feeling in their hearts, for there + appeared to be almost no reply from the enemy guns. + </p> + <p> + The battalion took to the trenches at the crossing of the Pozieres Road, + and so effective was the counter-battery work that they were able to + settle down into their battle positions without casualties. The R. A. P. + was in a deep German dug-out thirty feet below the surface, with double + entrances and heavily timbered. It had been most elaborately prepared, + planked on sides and floor, and fitted with electric lights. There were + two main rooms, with a connecting corridor, leading to each entrance. They + found an Australian medical officer in charge. + </p> + <p> + “These chaps were regular settlers, weren't they?” said + Barry, after they had exchanged greetings. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, they intended to sty, apparently,” said the + Australian, in his slow drawl. “We found some letters on a wounded + officer indicating their intention to remyn for the durytion, but we + wanted the plyce—couldn't carry on without it in fact. It's + quite a good plyce, too,” he added with a cheerful grin. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's just bully,” said the M. O. “I am only + sorry that we can't promise you as good in The Salient.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear it is rather rotten, eh, sir?” said the Australian. + </p> + <p> + “Not as bad as Gallipoli, though,” said Barry. “By Jove! + You Australian chaps did magnificently down there. Must have been a + perfect hell.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, quite hot for a while, but I fancy you Canydians didn't + have any afternoon tea party in The Sylient, eh? My word, there was some + fighting there. Oh, there it comes,” he added. + </p> + <p> + As he spoke a muffled explosion was heard, and the dug-out rocked, and the + candles flickered. + </p> + <p> + “Can they get you down here?” inquired the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “I fancy a direct hit from a really big H. E. would disturb our + little home, but nothing else would. Of course, a shell in the door wye + would be a bit awkward, you knaow,” replied the Australian. + </p> + <p> + The night, however, passed quietly, and except for a few slightly wounded + walking cases, there was little work to do. The Canadians decided that in + coming to the Somme, they had made a most happy exchange. + </p> + <p> + A quiet day followed the night, but the whole battalion was keyed up with + intense expectation for the attack which they knew was fixed for the night + following. With expectation mingled curiosity. They knew all about + raiding; that was their own specialty, but they were curious as to the new + style of fighting which they knew to be awaiting them, the capturing, + holding and consolidating of a line of enemy trenches. + </p> + <p> + Nightfall brought the opportunity to gratify their curiosity. For two + hours before the attack, their guns put down the barrage to cover the + front line of enemy trenches, and to dispose of his wire. + </p> + <p> + The M. O. and Barry, with the Australian and their whole staff, made their + way to a ridge a few yards distant to see the show. + </p> + <p> + “Great Heaven, what is that?” inquired the M. O., pointing to + what seemed to be a line of flickering watch fires upon the crest of a + neighbouring rising ground. + </p> + <p> + “Guns! Ours,” said the Australian, surprised at the M. O.'s + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Guns! My Lord, guns, Barry,” shouted the M. O. + </p> + <p> + “Guns? And in the open! And on a hill! And wheel to wheel!” + cried Barry. “Thank the good Lord I have lived to see this day. Look + at the boys,” he added in a low tone, to the Australian beside him. + </p> + <p> + They glanced over their shoulders and saw two of the orderlies executing a + fox-trot in the heavy shell-ploughed soil. + </p> + <p> + “What's the row?” inquired the Australian. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear chap,” replied the M. O., “don't you + know we have never seen a gun in action in the open that way. Our guns + operated only from holes and corners, from hedges and cellars. Otherwise + they'd be spotted and knocked out in an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Ow!” said the Australian, “our bird men attended to + that the first dye of the fight. They sye there was a double line of + observation balloons along the lines, ours and theirs up to the 30th of + June. The next morning not a Boche balloon was to be seen. Our plynes put + their eye out in a single afternoon. Since that time, we hold over them in + the air. Ah! There are the heavies coming up now. The full chorus will be + on in half a minute.” + </p> + <p> + A few seconds later, the truth of the Australian's prophecy was + demonstrated. The full chorus was on. For two hours the barrage raged, and + the din was such that they had to shout in each other's ears to be + heard. The hilltops were ringed with darting tongues of red flame as + though belched out by a thousand fabled dragons. It was as if the air + above was filled with millions of invisible demons, whining, moaning, + barking, shrieking in a fury of venomous hate, while at regular intervals + came the express train roar of the twelve, fifteen and sixteen inch guns. + </p> + <p> + “It's almost worth while to have lived through those months in + The Salient,” said Barry, “to get the full enjoyment of this + experience. Well do I remember the day when our O. C. asked for 'retaliation,' + and was told he could have six rounds, I think it was, or eight. Meanwhile + our trenches and dug-cuts were going up in bloody mud.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we might as well go below,” said the Australian. + “They will be coming in presently.” + </p> + <p> + But Barry and the M. O. remained long after the first coming in shells + began to drop around. That barrage so long waited for, and so ardently + desired, was worth some risk. + </p> + <p> + Soon the wounded began to arrive, and throughout the whole night, the M. + O. and his staff were busy at their work. On the arrival of the zero hour, + the barrage lifted. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good luck go with the boys,” said the Australian, + fervently. “They are out and over now. We'll get some of them + presently.” + </p> + <p> + Throughout the night, a stream of walking wounded kept flowing in. + Jubilant, exultant in spite of their pain, they bore with them the joyful + report that they had shifted the Hun from his trenches and his deep + dug-outs, and were still advancing. Singing at the top of their voices, + they came limping in, bloody and muddy, but wild with exultation and joy. + The day long looked for by the Canadians had arrived. They were getting + something of their own back. + </p> + <p> + The next day revealed the full extent of the achievement. The whole + Canadian line had swept forward for over a thousand yards, had captured + strong points, a fortified sunken road, the famous “sugar refinery” + and, overrunning their objective, had captured the village of Courcelette, + as well. It was a gallant little fight, and quite a notable achievement. + </p> + <p> + After two days the battalion was pulled out, having suffered comparatively + slight losses, and more than ready to return when the opportunity should + come. + </p> + <p> + The next three weeks were spent in minor operations, consolidating + positions, repelling counter-attacks, and preparing for the real “big + go,” in which the Canadians were to take their part in the advance + of the whole allied line, after which the battalion was sent into reserve + for a few days' respite. + </p> + <p> + The Canadian line was gradually wearing thin, but the spirit of those who + survived was the spirit of the whole allied line,—the spirit that + claimed victory and was not to be denied. As to the nature of the task + awaiting them, however, they well knew that it was to be a fight in which + the last ounce of resolution and only the last ounce would carry them + through to their objective. + </p> + <p> + The experiences of the allies during the past months had wrought in them a + settled conviction that victory was awaiting them, and a settled + resolution that that victory they would secure at all cost soever. + </p> + <p> + At length the day arrived, a dull October day, overhung with rain clouds + and thick with chill mist. On the parade ground the battalion was drawn up + for the service which always preceded an attack. + </p> + <p> + The operations of the past month had reduced the battalion to about half + its fighting strength. Only some five hundred men, with officers barely + sufficient to direct their movements, looked back at Barry through the + mist as he faced them for the service. + </p> + <p> + “Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation,” + he read. The psalm might have been written for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence: I shall not + be moved. + </p> + <p> + “My soul, wait thou only upon God: for my expectation is from him. + </p> + <p> + “He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defence: I shall not + be moved. + </p> + <p> + “In God is my salvation, and my glory: the rock of my strength, and + my refuge is in God. + </p> + <p> + “Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before + him. God is a refuge for us.” + </p> + <p> + Barry made only a single comment upon the psalm, “Men, nothing can + move God, and nothing can move those whose trust is in God. Remember God + is to be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + The reading was followed by the General Confession, the Absolution and a + brief extemporary prayer, concluding with the Lord's Prayer. As + Barry was mounting his horse a runner brought him an order from his + divisional chief, directing him to report at the casualty clearing station + in Albert for immediate duty. He carried the order to the O. C. + </p> + <p> + “Look at this!” he stormed. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad! Too bad!” said the O. C. “Rotten luck for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, sir,” said Barry, “I have always gone up + with the battalion, and I think—” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy they are getting on to you, Dunbar. You know you have + rather shirked the C. C. S. duty,” said the O. C. with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't there some way out of this? If I got a substitute—” + </p> + <p> + “A soldier obeys orders, Captain Dunbar,” said the O. C. + gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I know, but—” + </p> + <p> + “And he doesn't say 'but',” continued the O. + C. “No, Barry,” he added in a kindly voice, “I have no + responsibility or authority in this. I'd be glad to have you come up + with us. We are going into the 'big thing' this time, I know, + but perhaps it's just as well. You go your way and we'll go + ours. I'd like to say this to you, however, my boy, you have been a + great help to me with the men.” + </p> + <p> + His tone was grave but kind, and it sent to Barry's heart a chill of + foreboding. “Good-bye, Barry,” he added, shaking hands with + him. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, sir. Good luck, sir. May I say, sir,” said Barry, + “that you have helped me immensely with my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you say so, Barry?” said the O. C., a note of surprise in + his voice. “I'm delighted to know that.” + </p> + <p> + “God keep you, sir,” said Barry earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. We are in His keeping, aren't we?” and + turning in his saddle, he gave the order to advance. + </p> + <p> + Barry rode with the column to the very mouth of the communication trench + running to Pozieres, dropping into step with each company commander for a + time, and leaving each with a cheery word of farewell. At the mouth of the + trench, he stood watching the men as they stepped down and out of his + sight, giving them a word of good cheer and good luck as they passed, and + receiving in return answering smiles and greetings. Then with eyes + unseeing, he rode back to camp, heavy of heart, for he knew well that many + of these faces he would see no more. + </p> + <p> + The zero hour was fixed for five a. m. the following morning. As the hour + drew near, Barry at his work in the C. C. S., found in his heart the words + of the psalm, “My soul wait thou only upon God . . . I shall not be + moved.” That wounds and death were awaiting many of them he well + knew, and his prayer was that they might meet the fate appointed them with + unshaken faith and courage. + </p> + <p> + By seven o'clock the wounded began to arrive and an hour later the + C. A. M. C. marquee was filled to overflowing with a cue of wounded men + forming outside in the falling rain. The suffering in their pale and + patient faces stirred in him a poignant sympathy. There was the chaplain + service tent adjoining. He ran to find the chaplain in charge. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said, “may we use your marquee for wounded + men?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing. It will never be used for a better purpose.” + </p> + <p> + Barry returned to the O. C. of the C. C. S. + </p> + <p> + “Why not direct that a part of this stream be sent to the adjoining + tent for registration, and for anti-tetanus hypodermics? These poor chaps + are standing out in the rain, chilled to the bone and ready to drop.” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake do it,” said the O. C. “We are + really up against it here. Can you take that off my hands?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes the congestion at the door of the marquee was relieved + and the wounded men, to their own vast comfort, were bestowed upon the + benches and chairs in the chaplain service tent. But something further was + necessary to their comfort. + </p> + <p> + “Draper,” said Barry to the chaplain in charge of the tent, + “you see these men? They have had nothing to eat since last night. + They have fought a battle, been wounded, and walked out some five miles or + so, since then. It's eight o'clock now. What about it?” + </p> + <p> + “What about it?” exclaimed the chaplain. “You watch me!” + </p> + <p> + He ran to the Y. M. C. A. tent, enlisted the secretary's aid and in + twenty minutes they together had transported to the chaplain service tent + coffee and cocoa urns, and with an organised band of assistants were + supplying the wounded with warming and comforting nourishment. Never had + those splendid services more quickly and effectively justified their place + in the army. + </p> + <p> + With the wounded came rumours, more or less fantastic, of disaster. + Something terrible had befallen the whole Canadian line. It was difficult + to get at the truth. As with all rumours, they contradicted each other and + left the mind in a chaos of perplexity. The battalion had run into wire, + where the machine guns had found it, the battalion was practically wiped + out, it had found cover in a trench and was still holding on, the O. C. + was wounded, the O. C. was killed, and with him every company commander. + </p> + <p> + Again and again, Barry sent men to the signals to learn the truth, but it + was found impossible to get a message through. That an overwhelming + disaster had befallen his battalion was abundantly evident from the + numbers of wounded. With his heart growing numb with pain he struggled + with his work. Gradually, he was forced to accept as true that a large + proportion of the battalion were casualties, that the O. C. was wounded, + possibly dying, that many of the officers had fallen and that the + remainder were still holding a precarious position, and fighting for their + lives. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be moved,” he had read to them last night. The + promise was being fulfilled in the men of his battalion. They could die at + the wire or in the trench, but they could not be moved. While mechanically + carrying on his work, his mind was with the fighting, dying remnant of his + comrades. The O. C. of the C. C. S. passing on his rounds found Barry + carrying on with tears blinding his eyes so that he could hardly see the + figures he was entering in his record. + </p> + <p> + “Your men are having a hell of a time, I hear,” said the O. C. + “I say, boy,” he added, glancing at Barry's haggard + face, “let up for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right, sir,” said Barry, through his teeth. + “Excuse me, really I'm all right. It is a bit difficult to + carry on when you know that your friends are being cut to pieces, but I'm + all right, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, my boy,” said the O. C., “we're up + against it to-day. I'll come for you in a few minutes, and we'll + have a bit to eat.” + </p> + <p> + Barry shook his head. He was too sick to eat, but the O. C. knew better + than he just what he wanted. In a few minutes he returned with an + assistant who took Barry's place. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, boy,” said the O. C. cheerfully. “We have + got to feed the living that we may care for the wounded and dying.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, sir,” said Barry. “I am ashamed of + myself. I'll be fit in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't apologise for one moment,” said the colonel, + “if you felt any less deeply than you do, you'd be something + less than a man. We'll get into touch with the Divisional + Headquarters, and try to get the facts.” + </p> + <p> + He had no sooner reached his private room than his signaller informed him + that Divisional Headquarters had just been trying to get him. It took some + time, however, to get the message through. Meantime, the Colonel was + handling Barry with a wise and skillful touch. He made him eat and eat + heartily, seeking to divert his mind in the meantime from the disaster + that had befallen the battalion to the big issues at stake, and pointing + out with resolute cheerfulness that the calamity that had befallen the + battalion was only a temporary setback. + </p> + <p> + “We're winning, my boy, and we're paying the price,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + At length signals got the D. H. Q. and called the colonel to the phone. + After a few minutes' conversation, the O. C. called Barry. + </p> + <p> + “The general wants to speak to you, padre,” and Barry with an + apprehensive heart went to the phone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that you, Captain Dunbar?” It was the general's + voice and somehow it carried with it an atmosphere of calm and cheerful + confidence. “How are you getting on?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, very well. We are terribly anxious, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “That's natural,” said the general quietly. “We + have had rather a serious reverse. Your whole brigade met with wire, and I + fear they suffered heavily. The men behaved with great steadiness and are + still splendidly holding. We are, of course, making every effort to + relieve them, and with good hope of success.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard of my O. C.?” inquired Barry. + </p> + <p> + “I fear rather bad news, Dunbar. Indeed, I fear he is seriously + wounded. We have sent him straight on to Contay. Your officers have + suffered quite severely.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard what the casualties are, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly,” replied the General. “We shall not know + until evening, but we must be prepared for a heavy loss. By the way, can + you be spared from the casualty clearing station? I hear you are doing + fine work there. If you can run up, I can send my car for you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not, sir, just now. Perhaps later on in the + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me speak to Colonel James,” said the general. + </p> + <p> + The O. C. came to the phone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he said.—“Well, we are short handed + just now.—He is really necessary at the present moment.—Yes, + later on we'll send him up.—Very well, sir.—We are doing + our best.” + </p> + <p> + The calm and confident bearing of his superior officer, made Barry ashamed + of the unnerving emotion from which he had been suffering all morning. He + returned to his work resolved to put aside all personal considerations. + The thing in which they were engaged was vastly more important than the + fate of any individual or of any battalion. Victory was necessary, was + guaranteed, and was demanding its price. That price was being paid, and to + that price every man must make his contribution. + </p> + <p> + Toward night the stream of wounded gradually grew less, and the O. C. sent + Barry, in a returning ambulance, up to the Divisional Headquarters. The + serenity with which the general received him did much to restore Barry's + poise, which had been severely shaken by the strain of the night and day + with the wounded in the casualty clearing station and by the heartracking + agony he had suffered over the loss of his comrades. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Dunbar,” said the general kindly. “Take a seat + for a few minutes. Have a cigar. These you will find are good, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. I will take a cigarette, if I may,” said + Barry, helping himself from a box on the table. + </p> + <p> + He had not been many minutes in the dug-out until he began to catch the + reactions of the place. The spirit was one of controlled but concentrated + energy. It was the spirit of the divisional commander, and it passed from + him to the humblest orderly in the room. There was swiftness of action, + alertness of mind, and with these a complete absence of hurry or + confusion. Runners were continually arriving with urgent messages, phones + insisting upon immediate answer, officers coming in with business of vast + importance, but with no sign of flurry, the work of the Divisional + Headquarters went swiftly and smoothly on. + </p> + <p> + At length there was a pause in the rush of calls upon the general's + attention. + </p> + <p> + “Come in this way,” he said to Barry, and led him to a smaller + room at the back of the dug-out. + </p> + <p> + “Very comfortable quarters these. They seem to have done themselves + quite well, haven't they? It is most convenient, for we certainly + should not have taken pains to construct such elaborate dug-outs as these + we have fallen heir to. Find a seat, Dunbar. I have got the latest + reports.” His voice was very gentle and very kindly. “Yes,” + he continued, “we have had a bad night's work. Uncut wire and + an enfilade from a redoubt which should have been blown up. The casualties + are very heavy.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they?” Barry asked. + </p> + <p> + “Quite heavy, Dunbar, I'm afraid. Only some fifty have + reported so far.” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty!” cried Barry. “Out of five hundred!” + </p> + <p> + “There will doubtless some more drop in,” added the general, + “but we must be prepared for a heavy loss, far heavier, both in + officers and men, than we can afford. The Battalion Headquarters was + terribly wrecked by a succession of direct hits. Only a few of the staff + escaped unhurt. Colonel Leighton was a fine officer. I had a great + admiration, indeed, affection, for him. I know how you felt towards him, + and he to you.” + </p> + <p> + The steadiness in his voice brought quiet, but the kindness in it brought + strength, and comfort. Barry became suddenly aware of the crushing load of + responsibility upon this gentle-voiced man. He was eager to help. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could help you, sir,” he said. “I am sure we + are all ready to do our best.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, Dunbar, and all are needed. Major Duff has gone out + badly injured. The only officers remaining unhurt in the front line are + Major Bayne and Captain Fraser, both of whom are splendidly carrying on. + And you, too, have given great help to-day. Colonel James assures me that + your initiative and resourcefulness were of the greatest service to him. + Oh, by the way, a message came through in a letter the other day, that I + should have sent you, but other things put it out of my mind, I am sorry + to say.” He touched a bell. “You see I had to tell your wife, + Dunbar, of your determination to stay by us,” he added with a smile. + “Get me my private post-bag, please,” he said to the orderly. + He selected a letter from a packet, opened it, and pointed to a page. + Barry recognised the handwriting as his wife's. He read: + </p> + <p> + “I need not assure you it was none of my family's doing to get + that appointment for Barry. I was not surprised that he declined it, but + then you see I know Barry. He is at the place where I would want him to + be.” + </p> + <p> + Barry kept his eyes steadily upon the words until he should be sure of his + voice. His heart was thrilling with pride in the girl who had given + herself to him. As the moments passed, he there and then vowed that by God's + grace, he would not shame her nor belie her trust in him. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” he said quietly, handing the letter back. + </p> + <p> + “Helps a bit, eh, what?” said the general. “We can't + let our women down, can we?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Barry. “Is there nothing I can do?” + His voice was as steady and quiet as the general's. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you, just the C. C. S., I fancy, at present.” + </p> + <p> + At that point the door opened, and the corps commander came in, wearing a + very tired and anxious face. + </p> + <p> + “Bad business, general,” he said, with a single word of + greeting and ignoring Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a very bad business, sir,” said the divisional + commander, and Barry fancied he caught a new note in his voice, a note of + sternness, almost of challenge. + </p> + <p> + “Seems that we missed that wire, eh, along here?” said the + corps commander, putting his finger upon a map which lay on the table. + </p> + <p> + “We must have that patrolled very carefully, you know.” There + was a note of criticism in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the corps commander courteously. “I + wasn't at all sure that the wire was cut, and so reported.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “This strong point should have been removed,” continued the + divisional commander, putting his finger upon a point of junction. “That + I asked to be done, but McDowell seems to have missed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “The enfilade got us from that point, of course.” There was no + mistaking the implication in the general's words. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You reported that, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You will find it in my report, sir. My division has suffered very + heavily from that strong point.” + </p> + <p> + The corps commander turned, and apparently observing Barry for the first + time started and said, + </p> + <p> + “You are—” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, Captain Dunbar,” said the general. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Captain Dunbar,” said the corps commander, obviously + annoyed at his presence at the interview. “I trust Captain Dunbar is + quite—” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Dunbar's reticence,” said the general with + quiet courtesy, “can be entirely trusted. He has just been doing + some fine work at the C. C. S.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes. You are a padre, Dunbar? Oh, I remember to have heard + about you. Very glad, indeed, to meet you, sir. Well, I must be off. We'll + see to that strong point at once, general. Good-night—good-night, + Dunbar.” + </p> + <p> + The general returned from seeing his visitor out. “Of course, we + keep these things to ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” answered Barry. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said the general with a kindly smile, “I have + kept the good news to the last. Your majority is coming through, and here + is a letter which came in my care. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll + leave you to take a bit of a rest. There's a cot, if you want to lie + down. Then we'll have a bite to eat later.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you very much,” said Barry eagerly, taking the + letter. “This is good news, indeed. My letters have been going + astray somehow. I have not had one for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “As long as that,” said the general with uplifted brows. + </p> + <p> + One sentence in his letter made music in Barry's heart. + </p> + <p> + “And oh, my heart's beloved, God has been good to me and to + you, for when the war is over, I hope there will be two of us to welcome + daddy back.” To which sentence Barry in his letter, written in + immediate reply, said, + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, dear heart, God has been good to us, in that he has + given us to each other, and to us both this wonderful new life to carry on + when we are done.” + </p> + <p> + When the general returned, he found Barry with his face on his arms and + dead asleep. + </p> + <p> + “Poor chap,” he said to his batman, “he is done up. Let + him rest a bit.” + </p> + <p> + They gave him an hour, after which they had their bite together. + </p> + <p> + “Now, general,” said Barry, “I should like to run up to + Battalion Headquarters. I might be of use there.” + </p> + <p> + “That's quite all right,” said the general. “You + will be glad to know that that strong point has already been attended to. + You didn't hear the row, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well the relief is going in and your men will soon be out.” + </p> + <p> + When Barry entered the Battalion Headquarters, he found only Major Bayne + and Captain Neil, with a signaller and a couple of runners, completing the + arrangements for the relief. + </p> + <p> + “You! Pilot!” exclaimed the major, as he gripped his hand. + “Now what the devil brought you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't help it, major. Simply had to come. I have been + trying to get you all day,” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Awfully glad to see you, old chap,” said Captain Neil, for + the major was finding difficulty with his speech. + </p> + <p> + “How many left, major?” said Barry. + </p> + <p> + “Five officers and seventy men,” said the major in a husky + voice. “My God, how those boys stuck.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be moved,” quoted Barry. + </p> + <p> + “That's it! That's it!” said the major. “Not + the devil himself, let alone the Huns, could move them back from that + wire. What is it, Sergeant Matthews?” he inquired of the sergeant + who came in at that moment. “Have you completed your work?” + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Matthews was pale, panting and exhausted. “Yes, sir,” + he said, “I think so. I didn't—I didn't—go + quite the full length of the trench. The boys said there was no one up + there.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Sergeant Matthews,” thundered the major, “your + orders were to go to the very end of the trench. You know this battalion + never goes out leaving its wounded behind.” + </p> + <p> + “We had a full load, sir,” said the sergeant, leaning against + the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will have to go back,” said the major, “and + complete the job. Can you carry on?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke Sergeant Matthews swayed along the wall and collapsed onto a + bench. + </p> + <p> + “Give him a shot of rum,” said the major curtly to a runner. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, major. I'll take the party,” said Barry + eagerly. “The sergeant is all in. I've had an hour's + sleep and a feed and I feel quite fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense, the sergeant will be all right soon,” said the + major impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “But, major, I should like to go. The sergeant is played out and I + am perfectly fit. We can't take the risk of leaving wounded men up + there in that trench. Besides, there's little danger now. The strong + point is blown up, so the general told me before I left.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Barry, I won't allow it. I won't take the chance,” + said the major. “My God, man! there are only five officers left. I + have lost every friend I have got in the battalion, except Neil here and + you. I'm damned if I'm going to let you go out over No Man's + Land.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady, now, major,” said Barry. “I'm going to + take a walk to the end of that trench, just in case one of the boys should + be there. Don't say no. It must be done and done carefully.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Barry,” said the major, suddenly yielding. “Better + take the sergeant with you. He knows the way, and I guess he's all + right now.” + </p> + <p> + The major and Captain Neil followed the party up the stairs and out into + the trench. It was a beautiful starry night, and all was quiet now along + the front. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it,” said the major, as he and Captain + Neil stood together watching the party away. “I feel queer about it, + Neil. I tell you I wish I hadn't let him go, but he is so darned + stubborn about what he thinks is his duty.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! Major, he always bucks me up somehow,” said Captain + Neil. + </p> + <p> + “Bucks us all up,” said the major, and he turned to take up + again the heavy burden of responsibility so suddenly and so terribly laid + upon him. The relief had been completed, and the last N. C. O. had just + reported “all clear.” The Headquarters Company, now reduced to + a poor half dozen, were standing ready to move, when the telephone rang. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, doctor,” said the major, answering it. “Oh, my + God! My God! Not that, doctor! Oh, God help us all! I'll be right + down. It's the Pilot, Neil,” he said, turning to his friend. + “Just take charge, will you please. I must run.” + </p> + <p> + Breathless he arrived at the R. A. P. + </p> + <p> + “Any chance, doctor?” he asked of the M. O. who was standing + awaiting him at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Not the very least, major, and he only has a few minutes. He wants + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, may God help me,” said the major standing quite still a + moment or two. “How did he get it?” he asked of a stretcher + bearer. “Do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, we had just picked up the last man. Sergeant Matthews got + a wound in the leg, and we had to carry him. Just as we started, they got + to shelling pretty bad and we dropped into a hole. I looked over my + shoulder and there was the Pilot, the chaplain, sir, I mean, with his body + spread over Sergeant Matthews, to keep off the shrapnel. It was there he + got it.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn Sergeant Matthews,” exclaimed the major, and passed on. + </p> + <p> + Barry was lying on a stretcher, very white and very still, but the smile + with which he welcomed the major was very bright. + </p> + <p> + “Awfully sorry—for you,—old chap,” he whispered. + “Couldn't really—help—it—you know—we—got—them + all—I'm—awfully—glad—to see you—just a + minute—before—before—” + </p> + <p> + The major, by this time, was weeping quietly. + </p> + <p> + “You have—been—a good friend—to me—major—. + We—have had—a good—time—together—. Say—goodbye—to—the + boys—for—me—and——to to—Neil.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Barry, boy,” said the major, brokenly. “It's + hard to have you go. You have helped us all.” + </p> + <p> + Barry fumbled with weak fingers at his breast. The major opened his tunic + thinking that he needed air. + </p> + <p> + “My—my—let-ter—” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + The major took the letter from his breast pocket, and put it in his hand. + Barry held it a moment, then carried it to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Now—that's—all—major,” he whispered. + “Tell—her—I—thank—God—for—her—and—for—the—other. + Major—tell—the boys—that—God—is good—. + Never—to be—afraid—but to—carry on—” + </p> + <p> + It was his last word, and there could be no better. “God is good. + Never be afraid but carry on.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + “CARRY ON” + </h3> + <p> + The next day but one they carried the Pilot to his grave in the little + plot outside the walled cemetery on the outskirts of the city of Albert. + It had been arranged that only a small guard should follow to the grave. + But this plan was changed. Sergeant Mackay, who was the only sergeant left + after consulting “the boys,” came to Major Bayne. + </p> + <p> + “The boys feel bad, sir,” he said, “that they can't + go with the Pilot, excuse me, sir, the chaplain.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they?” said the major. “We want to avoid congestion + in the streets, and besides we don't want to expose the men. They + are still shelling the city, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, sir,” replied the sergeant. “The boys have + heard the shells before, sir. And there's not so many of them that + they will crowd the streets much.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them go, sergeant,” said the major, and Sergeant Mackay + went back with the word to the men. “And I want you to look like + soldiers,” said the sergeant, “for remember we are following a + soldier to his grave.” + </p> + <p> + And look like soldiers they did with every button and bayonet shining, as + they had never shone for battalion inspection. + </p> + <p> + They had passed through an experience which had left them dazed; they had + marched deliberately into the mouth of hell and had come back stunned by + what they had seen and heard, incapable of emotion. So they thought, till + they learned that the Pilot had been killed. Then they knew that grief was + still possible to them. With their grief mingled a kind of inexplicable + wrath at the manner of his death. + </p> + <p> + “If it had been the O. C. now, or any one else but Fatty Matthews,” + said Sergeant Mackay in disgust, expressing the general opinion. “It + is an awful waste.” + </p> + <p> + Under the figure of the Virgin and Child, leaning out in pity and appeal + over the shattered city, through marching battalions “going in” + and “coming out,” the little pitiful remnant made its way, the + band leading, the Brigade and Divisional Headquarters Staffs bringing up + in the rear. The service was brief and simple, a brother chaplain reading + at the major's suggestion the Psalm which Barry had read at his last + Parade Service with the battalion. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of the service, the divisional commander stepped forward + and said, + </p> + <p> + “May I offer the officers and men of this battalion my respectful + sympathy with them in the loss of their chaplain? During these last weeks, + I had come to know him well. Captain Dunbar was a chaplain in his brigade. + He was more. He was a gallant officer, a brave soldier, a loyal-hearted + Canadian. The morale of this division is higher to-day because he has been + with us. He did his duty to his country, to his comrades, to his God. What + more can we ask than this, for ourselves and for our comrades?” + </p> + <p> + Then there was a little pause and Major Bayne began to speak. At first his + voice was husky and tremulous, but as he went on, it gathered strength and + clearness. He reminded them how, when the chaplain came to them first, + they did not understand him, nor treat him quite fairly, but how in these + last months, he had carried the confidence, and the love, of every officer + and man in the battalion. + </p> + <p> + “Were the Commanding Officer here to-day, he would tell, as I have + often heard him tell, how greatly the chaplain had contributed to the + discipline and to the morale of this battalion. He helped us all to be + better soldiers and better men. He never shrank from danger. He never + faltered in duty. He lived to help his comrades and to save a comrade he + gave his life at last.” + </p> + <p> + The major paused, looked round upon the gallant remnant of a once splendid + battalion, his lips quivering, his eyes running over with tears. But he + pulled himself together, and continued with steady voice to the end. + </p> + <p> + “But not to say these things am I speaking to you today. I wish only + to give you this last message from our Sky Pilot. This is the Pilot's + last message: 'Tell the boys that God is good, and when they are + afraid, to trust Him, and “carry on.”' And for myself, + men, I want to say that he was the only man that showed me what God is + like.” + </p> + <p> + In that company of men who had looked steadfastly into the face of death, + there were no eyes without tears, many of them were openly weeping. + </p> + <p> + When the major had finished, the officers present, beginning with the + divisional commander, came and stood at the head of the open grave for a + single moment, then silently saluted and turned away. It was the duty of + Bugler Pat McCann to sound “The Last Post,” but poor Pat was + too overcome with his sobbing at once to perform this last duty. Whereupon + the runner Pickles, standing with rigid, stony face beside his chum, took + the bugle from his hands and there sounded forth that most beautiful and + most poignant of all musical sounds known to British soldiers the world + over, “The Last Post,” ending with that last, high, + long-drawn, heart-piercing note of farewell. + </p> + <p> + Then, because the war was yet to be won, they “carried on,” + the battalion marching away to a merry tune. + </p> + <p> + Beside Barry's grave there still lingered three men, the divisional + commander, Major Bayne, and Captain Neil. + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking of that little girl in London,” said the + divisional commander, and for the first time his voice broke. The others + waited, looking at him. “We will hold back this news for a couple of + days, and I think, major, you ought to go and—” + </p> + <p> + “No, general!—My God, no! Don't ask me!” The major + was profoundly agitated. “Send Neil, here. He knows her well, and + his wife is her great friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, major, I think that will be better,” said the + general in his courteous, gentle voice. “You know her, Captain + Fraser, and you can be better spared.” + </p> + <p> + And so it was arranged. Captain Neil telegraphed Paula to meet him at + Boulogne, and together they made the journey to London, carrying with them + sad and fearful hearts. + </p> + <p> + They found Phyllis in a little flat which her mother had taken. When she + saw them her face went white, and her hands flew to her bosom. Speechless, + and with a great fear in her wide-open brown eyes, she stood looking from + one to the other, waiting for their message. Paula went to her and without + a word put her arms round her, and held her close. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Paula,” she said, putting her gently away from her. + “I know what you have to tell me. Barry is dead. My dear love is + dead!” Her voice was tender, soft and low. “Don't fear + to tell me, Neil,” she said. “See, I am quite steady.” + She put out her hand that he might see that there was no tremour in it. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, darling,” besought Paula, again winding her arms + about her. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, let me stand, Paula dear. See, I am quite strong. Now tell + me about it, Neil—all about it. You were his dear friend, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice, so sweet, so soft, so perfectly controlled, helped Captain Neil + with his task. It seemed an offence that he should intrude any exhibition + of grief or emotion upon the serene calm of this young girl, standing so + straight, so proud, and regarding him with such brave eyes. + </p> + <p> + Then Captain Neil told his tale. He began with the last service upon the + Parade Ground before the battalion moved into action. He told of Barry's + bitter disappointment, and of their relief that he was not allowed to + accompany them to the front line. He told of Barry's long day at the + casualty clearing station, and of his service to the wounded, and of how + good the divisional commander had been to him that night. + </p> + <p> + “It was there he got your letter, Phyllis.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he got my letter. I'm so glad,” whispered the girl, + with a quick breath and a sudden flushing of her pale cheeks. “He + knew! He knew!” + </p> + <p> + “I have his letter in reply here,” said Captain Neil, handing + it to her. + </p> + <p> + She took it in both her hands, kissed it tenderly, as if caressing a + child, and put it in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Please go on,” she said, and Captain Neil took up his tale + again. He told how the major tried to persuade him not to go out after the + wounded that night. + </p> + <p> + “But, of course, he would go,” the girl said with a proud + little smile, at which Captain Neil's self-control quite gave way, + and he could only look at her piteously through his tears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so sorry,” she said gently. “Can't + you go on? I want to hear so much every bit, but if you can't—” + </p> + <p> + At which, Captain Neil gripped himself hard and went on, “and so he + went out, and they searched the trench from end to end. They found one + poor chap, whose leg was badly smashed—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so glad they found him,” whispered Phyllis. + </p> + <p> + “Then Sergeant Matthews got his wound, and the shells began to fall. + They took refuge in a shell hole, and there, while covering Fatty Matthews + from the breaking shrapnel, Barry got his wound.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Neil was forced to pause again in the recital of his story. After + a few minutes, he told of how they carried him to his grave, and laid him + in the cemetery outside the city of Albert. + </p> + <p> + “The boys were all there. There were not many of them left,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “How many?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Seventy only, out of five hundred and four who went over the + parapet two nights before.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, poor, gallant boys! I love them, I love them all!” said + the girl, clasping her hands together. + </p> + <p> + “They were all terribly broken up as they stood about the grave, and + no wonder! No wonder! Then the divisional commander made a little speech, + and then our own major gave them Barry's last message.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” said the girl gently, as Captain Neil paused. + </p> + <p> + “It was this,” said Captain Neil. “'Tell the boys + that God is good, and when they are afraid, to trust Him, and “carry + on.”'” + </p> + <p> + “That was like him,” she said. “That was like Barry! Oh, + Paula,” she cried, turning to her friend. “I'm so happy! + It was a beautiful closing to a beautiful life. He was a beautiful boy, + Paula, wasn't he? His body was beautiful, his soul was beautiful, + his life was beautiful, and the ending, oh, was beautiful. Oh, Paula, God + is good. I am so glad he gave Barry to me, and gave me to him. Oh, I'm + so—happy—so—happy.” Her voice sank into a whisper. + Then after a few moments of silence, with a little piteous cry, she + suddenly broke forth, “But Paula! Paula! he is gone. I shall never + see him again.” + </p> + <p> + Paula held her arms tightly about her, sobbing as if her own heart were + broken, but Phyllis recovered herself quickly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she said softly, as if counselling her own heart. + “I must remember. 'God is good,' he said, and so, Paula, + I must not be afraid. God was good to him. He will be good to me. He will + be good to his child.” Her voice sank again into a whisper. She + stood silent with eyes looking into the far distance. Then, in a clear, + firm voice, she said, “I will not be afraid! God is good! I will + 'carry on.'” + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY PILOT IN NO MAN’S LAND ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 3288-h.htm or 3288-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/3288/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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