CHAPTER V 



A PRISONER 



About five o'clock I found I had been led, quite 

 unsuspectingly, into a party of the enemy waiting 

 for me in ambush right on the track. I only 

 remember yells of " Hands up ! " and two men in 

 particular pressing their rifles into my ribs. Too 

 flabbergasted to do anything, I stared at them in 

 a hopeless and stupid sort of manner, while they 

 continued pressing their rifles up against me. It 

 never went into my head, so surprised was I, to 

 drop the rifle which was slung over my right 

 shoulder. 



Presently it dawned on me that the two men, 

 whom alone I seemed really to notice, were not 

 Germans at all, but evidently Dutchmen. " Good 

 God ! " I said, " you don't want to shoot your own 

 men, do you ? I am not a German/' 



At this they started laughing, and one of them 

 asked me, speaking in English, " Don't you think 

 we are Germans then ? " 



" Of course you are not," I said ; "you are Dutch. 

 What are you, Brits' men or who ? " 



This seemed to tickle them more than ever, and 

 then a big man on my right spoke to me, calling 



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