"Come on!"
The two lads hurried from the hut. As they emerged, a troop of Belgian
cavalry swept past them, on the way to the front. The boys followed as
rapidly as possible in its wake. Presently they came to a small hill.
Climbing to the top, they found they could command a good view of the
advancing German columns, which they could see in the distance, and which
were even now almost close enough to grapple hand-to-hand with the
horsemen swooping down on them.
All along the German front the Belgian cavalry hurled itself upon the
advancing foe. They met with a crash, and horses and riders went down in
heaps. For a moment the Germans gave way. For a moment they recoiled, and
then they sprang forward again.
The charge of the Belgian cavalry was magnificent, but it was in vain.
The German forces pressed onward, and the cavalry was forced back,
cutting and slashing as it slowly retreated. Under a withering fire, that
suddenly broke out all along the German front, the horsemen fell by
hundreds. It was more than flesh and blood could stand. A retreat was
sounded, and the cavalry fell back upon its support. But, even as they
drew off, there burst from the German front the sharp roar of the
mitrailleuse. The German maxims had opened fire. The Belgians fell faster
than before.
And now the Germans were ordered to charge. Squadron upon squadron raced
over the open ground in a mad dash toward the Belgian line; and as they
charged, the rapid-fire guns of the great forts poured forth their
answer.
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