Heppner had recovered his self-possession in a moment. He called the four gunners to him, and was himself the first to jump down into the hollow. Vertler, the gun-leader, was close by on his horse, but scarcely seemed able to grasp what had happened. Heppner caught sight of Sickel at once. He lay with his left leg under the Turk's body, and was shielding himself behind the neck of the gelding to avoid being struck by the hoofs of the centre horse, who was kicking furiously.

"Here! Vogt and Truchsess!" commanded Heppner. "We'll pull him out."

They grasped the bombardier under the arms and tried to drag him out from under the horse. But it was not so easy, and at the very moment when they stooped for a second attempt, one of the lead horses made a sudden movement which knocked Vogt down. The gunner got entangled in the drag-ropes and could not get up again.

Eidechse, the centre horse, again began to kick. She had a yawning wound in the b.u.t.tock from which the blood streamed, and she writhed, mad with pain. Lying on her back she turned herself to and fro, and the gleaming iron shoes flashed nearer and nearer to Vogt's head, at last striking him so that his helmet flew off and the blood gushed from beneath his fair, close-cropped hair.

Klitzing saw the increasing peril, and of a sudden flung himself blindly beneath the infuriated, plunging hoofs.

Like lightning it had flashed across his brain how Vogt had once shed his blood for him. Was not this the time to show his grat.i.tude? This was perhaps the object of his existence to save the life of that other, stronger than he. And was not this his lucky day? He felt in him the strength of a giant. Yes, he would stop those terrible hoofs until his friend could get free. And in an ecstasy of confidence he threw himself like a shield between his friend and danger.

The next moment he had received a furious kick in the side. He was hurled to a distance, and fell lifeless to the ground.

Vogt in the meanwhile had freed himself and risen quickly, only to turn faint a moment later. He sat down on the hill-side and supported his aching head in his hands.

Again the sergeant-major swore violently. In despair he looked up for a moment from the terrible medley and noted the gun-leader still staring down into the hollow with vacant eyes.

"You fellow!" he shouted, "it's no time to go to sleep, at any rate!"

With admirable clearness he gave his orders: "Ride as fast as your beast will go, and fetch the doctor and the veterinary surgeon! And ambulance-orderlies as well!" And immediately afterwards he added: "And send the team belonging to gun five here, and report the mess we're in!" For the service must not suffer, and the gun should be brought up to the line of fire as soon as possible.

The corporal galloped away and was soon out of sight.

Heppner now approached the entangled heap of bodies from the other side. He then set himself to extricate the lead horses from the different parts of the harness that trammeled them, and helped them to get up. They appeared to be uninjured, shook themselves and moved restlessly to and fro. He made the lead-driver take them to one side, and then turned to the centre horses. Inoslavsky gave him a helping hand. The near centre horse was uninjured, but Eidechse had a gaping wound in the b.u.t.tock. Wolf had to hold her by the snaffle, and found it difficult to manage her. The near wheeler got up readily; but the Turk, beneath whose body Sickel was writhing in agony, was badly hurt. The near hind fetlock seemed to be crushed. At last the gelding managed to raise himself a little on his fore-legs, and at the same moment Truchsess dragged out the wheel-driver from under the saddle. Sickel made a weak attempt to stand up, but fell back in a swoon.

The sergeant-major wiped the perspiration from his brow. d.a.m.nation!

That had been a bad piece of work! He looked round him: three men and two horses knocked out of time. Well, it might have been even worse.

Klitzing's was the most serious case. The clerk still lay there motionless, and only the blood-stained froth at his mouth, stirring as he breathed, showed there was still life in the motionless body. The sergeant-major went up to the unconscious man and carefully placed his head on the haversack. He had never been able to endure this sickly fellow, but, by Jove, what he had done that day was first-cla.s.s! It was grand! Would he never recover from his swoon? Heppner took a brandy-flask from his saddle-bag, and gently moistened the gunner's forehead with the spirit. He tried to force a drop between his lips, but in vain; there was no sound or movement in response.

The sergeant-major looked impatiently for some sign of the doctor's arrival. The other two wounded men seemed in less serious case. The bombardier regained consciousness as the brandy touched his lips; he took a good mouthful, and answered the sergeant-major's question as to his condition with: "All right, sir. Only my left leg feels a bit queer. I must have given it a wrench."

Vogt even tried to stand up and a.s.sume the regulation att.i.tude in speaking to the sergeant-major but he staggered back again, and said faintly that his head was going round, otherwise there was nothing wrong with him.

From the heights above was now heard the sound of horses' hoofs and the clanking of harness. It was Corporal Vertler with the team belonging to gun five; he announced that a trumpeter had gone to find a doctor, and that the ambulance-orderlies would soon be here.

The sergeant-major had now no more time to bestow on the wounded men, who could be left to wait for the doctor. He busied himself with the harnessing of the gun.

Vogt leaned against the slope of the hill, resting his dizzy head in his hands.

The blood trickled through his fingers and dropped upon his knees.

Although he tried to think it all over, he could not understand what had happened to him. The horse had kicked him on the forehead--that much he was able to recollect, and he also clearly remembered that afterwards he had again seen the hoof coming in his direction; but from that moment his memory was a blank.

Sliding and slipping, the hospital-orderly now came hurrying down the hill. He saw that three men were lying there; two of them had their eyes open, but not the third, so he addressed himself to the latter. He gave him ether to smell, tried to administer a stimulant, and moistened his forehead. He unfastened and opened his coat and shirt, and slapped the palms of his hands. All in vain; but at least the poor devil still breathed, though with a gurgling and rattling in his chest.

The orderly then turned to the two others. He gave Vogt a piece of medicated cotton-wool to press on his wound, put the bottle of cordial to his lips and made him drink. Vogt took a good mouthful; the liquid tasted acid and refreshing, and cleared his head wonderfully.

Sickel declined the draught with impatience. "Get away with your slops, you bone-breaker!" he said; "but if you've got any brandy I'll have it."

The hospital-orderly had none. "Well, what's the matter with you, then?" he asked.

"Something's wrong with my pins," answered the driver, and pointed to his leg.

"Is that it?" said the orderly. "You don't seem very bad on the whole.

But what's wrong with this one? I can't get him to come to," and he pointed to the motionless form of Klitzing.

"Perhaps cold water would bring him round," said Sickel. "Down there to the left there must be a stream. You can hear it running."

"Then I'll just go down there," returned the orderly. He laid the bottle of cordial at Vogt's feet and climbed down through the brushwood.

Vogt slowly raised his head and looked about him in surprise. The draught had revived him wonderfully. Where was he? A horse was standing near him bleeding from a gaping wound in the flank. Not far off lay one of his comrades stretched out like a corpse, and pale as death, with eyes closed and blood-stained froth on his lips. Why, it was Klitzing!

He clutched at his forehead, and all at once the curtain that had clouded his memory parted. He realised what had happened after he had seen the hoof coming in the direction of his skull. A dark body had thrown itself between him and the glistening iron--and then the blow had been struck. There had been a terrible, hollow sound, and then--then that body had been hurled into the air.

Suddenly he understood it all: Klitzing had sacrificed himself for him, his friend had saved him from the death-dealing blow of that iron-shod hoof, and there he now lay upon the gra.s.s, pale, unconscious--perhaps dead.

At this moment the unconscious man's eyelids opened at last with difficulty, his dull gaze went searching round, then rested upon Vogt with an expression of boundless devotion. Vogt darted to the clerk's side, threw himself down, and took the pale face between his hands.

"Heinrich!" he cried. "My dear good Heinrich! What have you done for me?"

Bright tears ran down his cheeks, and through his sobs he could only stammer again and again: "Heinrich! my dear good fellow!"

Klitzing tried to speak. His lips moved slightly, but no word came from them. A feeble hand was raised to his friend's shoulder, stroked it languidly, then fell heavily back. Again the eyes closed and remained shut, although Vogt went on earnestly begging and praying: "Heinrich!

Heinrich! Tell me what is the matter! Can't I help you?"

Sickel gazed thoughtfully at the two friends. He remembered the moment of departure, and how gay and merry the two gunners had been together.

Suddenly he turned his head to one side and listened.

"The doctor is coming," he said.

Immediately afterwards the portly a.s.sistant medical-officer, Rademacher, came down into the hollow. "Well, what is the matter here?"

he asked.

He turned first of all to the driver, but Sickel motioned him away; "Excuse me, sir, but there's plenty of time for me. The other man there needs you more."

Rademacher bent down over Klitzing. When he saw the blood-stained froth on the lips his face involuntarily put on a grave expression. He laid his ear to the chest and listened for a long time.

"What happened to the man?" he inquired.

Vogt pointed to Eidechse, who was gazing across at them with dull eyes, and answered: "She kicked him in the chest."

"Badly?"

"Yes, sir. He threw himself between, so that I should not be kicked again."

The fat doctor looked up surprised. This was an unusually touching incident in the rough life of a soldier. He saw the tears in the young man's honest eyes, and he understood.

"Then you were great friends?"

"Yes, sir. And--and--how is he now?"

Rademacher looked hesitatingly down at the mortally wounded man, and answered evasively: "Well--we must wait and see."