After looking at my wound, my chum said, “That arm is right bad; and I don’t like them shivers you are having. If we don’t get into God’s country pretty soon, I reckon we shall have to do something desperate to get that arm fixed.” He covered me over with his coat, and heaped straw on top of that, and then after a while, asked anxiously, “Getting over them shivers?” “Yes,” I replied, “I am getting comfortable and warmer than I have been for a good while. Better take your coat.” “That’s good!” he said with a relieved expression. “Never mind about the coat. I was afraid that them shivers meant something more than cold.” I had dropped into the dreamless sleep of exhaustion when I was awakened by a sharp punch, and the rustling of the straw. Looking up, I saw an old man with a pitchfork in one hand, staring down upon me with eyes big with surprise and inquiry. My chum sprang up with a greeting in German, and was answered in French by the inquiry: “Who are you?” “Un Americain,” I answered quickly. He dropped his hay fork, and held out his arms to embrace me, then called to his wife; and as she spoke German quite well, we soon had an understanding with them. They said that though some of the French people of that country had become Germanized, they still loved “la belle France” and prayed for deliverance from the hated, overbearing Germans. They had conscripted his son and had taken his horse, his crop of potatoes and other food, for their soldiers. From them we learned that there was a heavy force of Germans a few miles away, but that they were constantly falling back before the French and Americans. They said, further, that many of the Boches they had met were discouraged and feared that they could not continue to fight much longer. The old man gave us food to continue our journey, saying: “We are good friends,” and then added ruefully, “_C’est la guerre_.” CHAPTER XXV AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER A few days after this meeting we saw, while hiding in some woods, German artillery moving over near-by roads, and by this inferred that we were near the German lines, and that they were falling back. I was not sick but weak and tired. I lay down to rest and hide, while my chum left me to get some water, and forage for turnips or other food, still unharvested. I had waited for a long time--so it seemed to me--and becoming alarmed I cautiously started out to find him. Just as I had about given him up, he came creeping on his hands and knees through some underbrush saying, “Hist! The German devils are right thick around here; I have been trying to dodge them for an hour. Get down out of sight, chum!” All this was uttered in a hoarse whisper, and with an expression of alarm more ominous of danger than his words. We remained in our hiding place during most of that day, and at night began once more to travel cautiously, with many misgivings, westward, hoping to get through the German lines.