He knew well enough that the tortoise did not often overtake the hare.
Hares were cunning little animals, riot able to fight and almost wholly
dependent upon speed for survival in the battle of life. Hence, they
never went to sleep, and in only a single instance recorded in history
had a tortoise won a footrace from a hare. Yet an old proverb, even if
based upon a solitary exception, is wonderfully consoling, and John was
able to use it now as comfort.
After he had passed the fortifications and was well behind the German
interior lines, travel became easier. The Germans, considering their
army a wall before them, were less suspicious and the interruptions were
few. John, moreover, was a cheerful peasant. He had a fair voice, and he
sang German hymns and war songs in a mellow baritone as he strode along.
The road was really not so bad, after that long and hideous life in
filthy trenches. The heat of Sahara would be autumn coolness after a
return from Hades, and now John enjoyed the contrast.
There were many tracks of automobiles in the light snow and hail that
covered the road, and one broader than the rest John felt sure was made
by the great limousine of Auersperg. It was like a trail to lead him on,
and he was a trailer who could not be shaken off.
Rejoicing in his new possession of German--thankful now that he had
studied it so hard--although he spoke it with a strong accent of
Lorraine, John saluted such German soldiers as he passed and wished them
good day.
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