“The Germans already had begun shooting, the French quickly retaliating.  The former were in larger numbers than the French captain had believed them to be.  Lucien was still up the tree, peering out, his eyes large and frightened.  Bullets were clipping the foliage all about him.  He did not realize this at first, but finally, when he did, he slid down the tree in a hurry and hid behind it.

“Scouts were hastening back to the rear with messages from the captain, who had sent for assistance, seeing that the German force was too large for him to hold off indefinitely.

“Night came on and the firing died down.  There had been very few losses.  During the night a large detachment of French troops joined the captain’s force and early on the following morning the battle was resumed with great fury.  Lucien had slept in a tree all night.  His captain told him to go back home, but this the boy, for some reason of his own, did not care to do.

“Early in the day the Germans, who also had entrenched themselves, came over the top and drove the French back, taking some prisoners and killing many.  Lucien, who was hiding up in a tree, found himself between the lines, high and dry, as it were.  He made himself as small as possible up there and gazed wonderingly at the furious battle that was being fought beneath him.  Late in the forenoon the French drove the Prussians back.  The boy took advantage of the opportunity to get down from the tree and get behind his own lines.  It was observed, however, that he kept always within reach of a tree.

“Men were falling out there on the field.  Plucking up courage, Lucien went out with some stretcher bearers and helped gather up the wounded, but there were not enough of the stretcher bearers to properly care for the wounded; even stretchers were scarce.  In the excitement of the work Lucien forgot his fears.  The lad was resourceful and, recognizing the necessity for getting the wounded from the field, began to cast about for some means of solving this problem.

“‘Ah!  A wheelbarrow.  The very thing,’ he cried.  The wheelbarrow belonged to the farmhouse near the field, from which the occupants had run away when the troops came.  Lucien quickly possessed himself of the barrow and proudly marched out on the field pushing the barrow ahead of him.  By tipping it up on one side he was able to roll a wounded man in, not very gently, but he loaded his man in just the same and, red of face, pushed the vehicle ahead of him and back to the first-aid dressing station, where he slid his passenger to the ground, leaving him for the surgeons to attend to and then trotted back to the field.

“Artillery had been brought up by both sides and shells were bursting overhead, though none had fallen near the little Frenchman.

“Lucien picked up a wounded man near the edge of the battlefield and began wheeling the victim down the road.  The going was better there and he was enabled to make more rapid progress.  Pausing for a rest he eyed his passenger suspiciously.