13th June: Locusts and honey

"The buzz?"

Pye laughed and broke of another of the branches, but with it rather than wave, he playfully tapped it at Friedrich's shoulder and neck. "Don't warn them you daft man! We're light infantry, not lumbersome, loud, line!"

"Oh!" Freddie giggled, batted at the branches and skipped out of reach.

"But we want to make them afraid. Do you not think redcoats do that?"

He struck an attitude very similar to that of Colonel Simmerson, but then obviously though this inadequate, because next he contorted his face horribly while trying to achieve the proud look and characteristic nose of General Wellesly.

Pye held his hands at his belly laughing at the two displays." Intimidating right so!" He managed through hiccups of laughter. He shook his head and tried to do similar now than Friedrich wondering if he could strike the resemblance any better. From the distance the pair both looked like two posh beings, with brooms far up where their backs would be made to be nice and stiff. "I order you bees to surrender or we shall have to flog you silly!" The tone of his voice was as that of a commanding officer, his gaze attempting to be just as threatening and serious.


"Think if we fired at 'em.. they'd get scared and run?.." He asked when his gaze paused at the rifle.

Freddie was literally doubled over with laughter: "If ... you ... can ... say ... it ... in French ... perhaps", he gasped. "I am ... not good ... enough ... to shoot ... bees."

"I can say... ..not much." He shook his head. "Lets try ter hit'em eh? If we knock their hive off' of there." He indicated the tree." They won't know wot' hit them. And ...would they fly away when that was down?" He chuckled relaxing his pose and his tone of voice was again quite normal. "You should be an officer, so you should." He commended with a chuckle. "Be wearin' their clothes nobody would know you was not one!"

"And I would command you around." Freddie was still gasping for air, but managed to calm down enough for coherent speech again. "But you would just take the uniform of the general and auch no man would know."

Then he sobbered, remembering what he knew about bees.

"At home they take ... hives to other places and the bees come with it. And", he added thoughtful, "we would shoot at the honey."

"I'd disobey you!...an' when .."He laughed and shook his head. It was a silly thought on both accounts, but for that very reason it was amusing too.

"Auch.....is .i think that is also." He tilted his head a bit to the side and then nodded. "You are right. Do not want to loose our honey." He glanced at the branches. "Lets advance on our enemy, shall we." He indicated the bees with a green. "In pairs, n' as if it were real French there."

Freddie half-crouched, helt his branches to the barrel of his rifles, brought it to bear in the direction of the hive, then made ready to guard Pye's advance.

He pointed with his chin, slightly hindered by the leaves of the small bush he was trying to carry along: "You go first!"

Pye advanced, keeping close to the ground, and picking path quite well so as not to make sound, or step on a branch that might snap under his weight. He also seemed to have picked his path closest to the bushes, larger rocks and any other low vegetation. This had made his coat catch briefly on some thorns, but then let up again.

He settled down on one knee, his rifle brought forth to rest atop a bolder that concealed him fairly well. It was his turn to try not to laugh, but to concentrate on his surroundings and on not being seen by the bees until it was too late for them.

As soon as Pye was ready, Freddie started to slip through the bushes. The branches held to his rifle proved an unexpectedly strong impediment. They quickly became heavy, impairing his aim, and while to have them in front was preferable to dragging them behind in terms of sound, it also meant that he had to pick his way very carefully and without seeing too much.

The resulting movement was rather ungainly for Freddie's standards, but he managed to pass Pye without any mishap and to get to a small hollow only a few feet short of the clearing on which the bees could already be heard busily humming. He nearly let the branches slip when he tried to take station there, but with some shifting managed to settle them without too much noise, converting them into a rather nice additional cover for himself.

Pye waited quietly and then as he saw Friedrich settle he moved ahead again. He passed Friedrich then went in a slight arch so that he would have come to the tree but with still some small cover given. The heel was small perhaps, but it was still steep enough that it took some effort to climb it. His felt some of the stones under his foot give way, and quickly adjusted his step, so that he would not have followed suit after it.

He settled into his next stop and then turned towards Friedrich, if briefly. It was time that they start a small fire together, which would smoke out the bees. He had stopped before the direct view of the land behind the hill would have exposed itself to him.

As soon as Pye had taken up his position, Freddie moved forward again. Since Pye had decreed that they would give their best, he did just that, running through the practiced motions of the light infantry's cascading advance. But no-one was more surprised than he was when, immediately after he passed some steps besides Pye and entered the clearing, he heard the hollow report of a musket.

Reflexes and surprise made him flatten himself in the grass and looking for the nearest cover even before he had time to realize that the shot had sounded rather distant. Dropping all branches and adjusting his grip on his rifle, he cast a quick look over his shoulder. Had Pye heard something as well or had the sound been just a figment of his overactive imagination?

Pye tensed. He saw Friedrich react accordingly confirming that the sound he had heard was not only in his head, but that there was an actual shot fired. It was distant however.

Pye nodded sharply, aknowledging to the lad that he had heard it as well. The game was suddenly at an end, and the lad moved off to crouch beside Friedrich. "Musket.. heard it?" Though that was in no need to be asked, the two boys had both done so. "..s' far." He made a motion with his hand to indicate what he meant if the German lad might not have understood. "We could investigate..." But, if it was too far it was perhaps better that they return, take the honey as quick as they could and then slink back. But what if it was the French and they were heading their way, and nobody would notice them until they were far too close for comfort?

Freddie nodded and crawled forward until he could just see over the top of the hill. Squinting his eyes in a vain attempt to discern something in the blur that always clouded his horizons, he tried to think this through: If someone was shooting a musket, it was more than likely that either the shooting or the shot-at side was their own people. If they were in trouble, then the boys needed to help them.

If they did, however, and somebody saw them ... Freddie's already scarred back clenched with just the thought. But perhaps everything was alright and their side was winning? They were better than the French, weren't they?

Having reached that wishful conclusion, he whispered to Pye:

"I think we must go find out. When they are good, we can go and no officers see us. If not ...", he shrugged fatalistically, "then we are very good and safe all and perhaps ... Can you see something?"

"We will go." Pye agreed. He knew that they were in a place they both ought not to be, and that it was solely the desire to get honey that brought them here. The buzzing was rather insistant above their heads and he glanced up as few bees buzzed past, busily searching for flowers around them.

"If they need help, they won't have time to wait for us to get back and try convincing the people to follow us on a wild chase we should know nothin' about." He glanced at the boy. "How much gunpowder do you have ?"

He gazed at the direction where he noticed some movement. Slight, but it was there. He could not yet discern whose the uniforms were, but they were further away from their own camp. "There's several of them. Lets go!"

Their game had suddenly turned deadly serious. Freddie felt the now familiar battle tension gripping him, problems outside their immediate concern fading from his mind. The constant grin was still fixed on his face, but it had turned rather hard-nosed. With Freddie's acting talents, much of it might have been an act or an imitation of more experienced soldiers, but suddenly the young, slightly silly puppy transformed into a battle-hardened soldier years older.

Freddie felt for his horn and pouch. Although he didn't have the full complement of ammunition riflemen were supposed to carry in battle, it felt reassuringly heavy. Two quick checks assured him that his sword bayonet sat easily in its sheath and his knife was fixed securely in his right boot.

It took a moment to find the word he wanted, but then he whispered:

"Twenty shot, I think, and a little cartridges. Bayonet and knife. Enough. How does it look with you?"

Pye had not been given as generous a supply. But it would do. He glanced at his injured fingers and prayed that they had healed enough by now that when they were next needed they would not fail him. To reassure the lad more than himself he murmured. "Enough to get them running..whatever's left of them."

He was more of a greenhorn in the ways of the riflemen than Friedrich but he tried to have that fact hidden. He just needed to remember that he was no longer a redcoat and therefor standing up right and proceeding in a line in the present situation would only get him noticed and killed. Perhaps going more according to the ways of his younger street life, would suit the situation just perfect, and ofcourse what he had been taught by Cotton and the other riflemen.

"Keep that sword bayonet clasped to your side." Not something he needed saying, but he knew it was just an accident ready to happen with it dangling about their feet. And, it could make noise , clanking against their sides or rock. "We're going to try getting close enough to them to know what's going on.." He paused. "And have a clear shot. ...how good is your aim?" That would determine the distance that they could stop at, before they were able to fire.

Freddie was already plotting a course through the landscape that would make the best of what cover was there. Having grown up in the country and gotten into mischief there now proved to be a big advantage.

He indicated a thin line of trees and shrubs, probably shading a small rivulet. "If we follow this, we have cover, but it is flat. When we are close, we must go up there and hide in that bushes." He indicated another small hill much closer to the supposed enemy, hoping that the green lumps there were indeed bushes.

Then he shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face. He couldn't hold of that shameful confession any longer.
"Not good. You shoot, I load." Hoping that it would save at least some of his standing with his friend, he added: "I am quick at that."

Pye looked at Friedrich. Were they both hindered? The lad said he was not a good shot, and Pye was having trouble with his fingers. What a pair of misfits they made! He wished they had a third in the company now. It would make it easier on both of them. But realising that such a thought could discourage his friend he gave him a confident smile.

"Don't worry. We'll make them run yet." And after a moment he nodded, having studied the indicated trail. They'd follow it and see how close they could get to the enemy. He started forward. They could still walk and talk now, without being heard and that made some good time for planning, while moving towards their target. The bees were forgotten for now. A pity, honey would have been delicious. Still, they could return the same way and then maybe..

"We'll start of the way you suggested. I fire, you load. But when we get closer, you fire too. Understood?" He glanced at his friend. "The one who gets t' most of them.... gets a snared rabbit. Deal?" If it was a competition, maybe the boy would have his mind more on that, than whether he could miss or not.

The corners of Freddie's mouth lifted. If they were close enough, there was a decent change that he would at least see better what he was aiming at, and probably a high rate of fire could compensate for lack of precision.

For a short moment Freddie actually hoped that there might be lots of French, because that would better his chances. But of course these thoughts were suicidal, so Freddie quickly pushed them back. The small question whether the losser would be able to produce a rabbit followed suit, and Freddie held out his hand.

"Yes, einverstanden ... deal!"

Then he nimbly scuttled down the slope and took up a position behind a large bolder to cover Pye's descend.

Pye grinned, giving the hive one last glance before his expression hardened, and his concentration was all on the struggle happening up ahead of them. When he moved he was rather quiet, picking his way well even now, though part of it might as well have been his previous experience rather than want of doing so.

He passed Friedrich and cut down along side the line of low shrub. Some of the vegetation seemed eager to catch onto the bottom of his trousers, and a sharp jerk was needed to free it but for the most part he was able to avoid the danger of being entangled and had - low as he was - only a few small scrapes to tell the tale.

He found a good shelter, a thick log of a tree, leaning to the side with its weigh, held above ground merely by a large boulder that remained wedged under it. He peered into the direction that they were going again. Already he could make out some of the silhuettes better. Captain Vickery would be livid if he heard of where they were!

Though unknown to either, Freddie echoed the last thought. He waited until Pye had disentangled himself and found a good cover, then began his own advance. When he passed Pye, he realized that they were really working well together. Although verbal communication was still difficult and exhausting, they seemed to think along the same lines when this communication wasn't possible.

Just how good this rapport was, however, was very sonn put to the test: Working his way cautiously and low-crouched around a patch of brambles, Freddie suddenly lost his footing. The slippery grass growing on the rivulet's steep bank sagged away under him as the undercut side crumpled under his weight. Twisting like an eel, he managed to keep rifle and powder clear of mud and water, but the lower part of his body landed in the cold stream.

Freddie immideatly froze, his only movement now his hand cocking the rifle, and silently cursed. He had possibly just killed them both.

The boy disappeared all of a sudden Pye's first thought was, that they had waded into an ambush and Friedrich was just the first victim of it. Stiffening and kneeling closer to the ground he watched, listened and waited. But other than the splash he could not have heard anything else.

He debated his choices for a moment. He would not leave the lad here, and he was not going to turn tail. He shifted his hold from his rifle to his bayonet sword.

Quietly he began to crawl towards the area where he had last seen Friedrich, his eyes stealing glances off in the direction where they had seen people as well. When he came to the steep bank he saw the dip, where Friedrich lost his footing, and then spotted the boy, waist deep in the cold stream. He let out a deep breath of relief.

"You alright?" He called in hushed whisper to the lad below. "Come out 'fore they come investigatin'." He added, he reached out with his hand, judging the distance to the other rifleman.

When a figure, only silouetted against the sun overhead, suddenly bent over the edge, Freddie nearly pulled the trigger. Only instinct stilled Freddie's finger at the last moment, before he recalled that no enemy could get here that soon. Then he echoed Pye's sigh of relief. He wasn't used to someone else looking out for him

Handing up his rifle, he scramble up the muddy slope on all four. Only when he was safely on dry ground and in possion of his rifle again did he whisper:

"Yes. Thank you!"

Ready to cover his friend's back, he motioned him to continue ahead.

"Be careful, a'right." Pye whispered handing Friedrich's rifle back to him. He turned about then and advanced, careful not to walk too close to the bank, seeing that the earth there was ready to crumble and give, should another foot place weight against it.

He ducked around another of the bushes, slid past and over the rocks, to halt at the next tree. He peered past it, at the figures below. A few shots were heard, yet none fired in their direction. For now.