We struck straight east at last, in the hope of finding woods.  Through the mist we saw something ahead of us which when we came nearer proved to be a hill.  Hoping it might be wooded on the top, we made for it with all haste.  When we reached the top we found no woods, but an old cellar or an excavation of a building.  It was seven or eight feet deep, and the bottom was covered with rubbish.  Into it we went, glad of any sort of shelter.

When daylight came, we looked cautiously over the edge, and saw we were near a village; also we saw that about two hundred yards away there was a good thick wood, but it was too late now to think of changing our position.  There was a potato patch on the face of the hill, with evidence of recent digging.  About eight o’clock we heard voices.  Women were digging the potatoes.

Our feet were very sore that day, on account of the rain and of our not being able to keep our boots off enough each day, but we lay perfectly lifeless and did not even speak, for fear of attracting the attention of the potato-diggers.  We wished it would rain and drive the potato-diggers in.  But about nine o’clock a worse danger threatened us.  We heard firing, and could hear commands given to soldiers.  Soon it dawned on us that they were searching the wood for us.

The hours dragged on.  We were cramped and sore of feet, hungry, and nervous from lack of sleep, but managed to remain absolutely motionless.

About three o’clock a five-year-old boy belonging to the potato-digging party, strolled up to the top of the hill.  Bromley saw him first, and signed to me.  He loitered around the top of the cellar a few minutes, threw some stones and dirt down, and then wandered away.  There was nothing to indicate that he had seen us.

But in a few moments a woman and little girl came.  The woman looked straight at us, and made away at full speed.  We knew she had seen us.  Then we heard the soldiers coming, shouting.  It was not a pleasant time to think of.

When they surrounded the place, we stood up, and surrendered.

There was nothing else to do.

CHAPTER IX

Caught!

At first it seemed as if there were a platoon of soldiers:  they were everywhere I looked, and there were more coming!  They were, for the most part, young fellows from the training camp at Aschaffenburg, and it was not every day they got a chance to catch a couple of prisoners.  So it was done with a flourish!

The Captain instructed us to put up our hands, and two of the soldiers searched us.  They were welcome to my map, because already I was thinking of making another, but I did not like to see my compass go—­I kept wondering how I would ever get another.

There was no hostility in their attitude toward us, either from the soldiers or the civilians.  The potato-diggers, mostly women, went straight back to their work as if they had done their share and now some one else could “carry on.”  Prisoners or no prisoners, the potatoes had to be dug.