road in the direction of the Styr River.

They were to cross one of its bridges, as the main army was now doing.
The last of the regiments at Grovno would see that the bridges were
destroyed before the German soldiers could come up to them.

CHAPTER XI

_A Russian Retreat_

For many hours the ambulance wagon in which Nona and Barbara were riding
jogged on, forming one of a procession of similar wagons.

The girls grew cold and cramped. Now and then they tried to move in
order to make their patients more comfortable or at least to give water
to the wounded men. But the wagons were so crowded that the slightest
stirring was well nigh impossible.

Nevertheless, as Barbara Meade had predicted, the long night was one
neither she nor Nona would ever be willing to forget.

At first they rode along, passing the wooden huts of the peasants that
once had lined both sides of the main road leading to the middle bridge
across the river Styr. But many of these shacks had suffered from the
stray shells of the Germans, which, having passed beyond the fortress,
had brought desolation to the country side. These little wooden houses
in many places were mere heaps of burnt-out ashes. Others were half
burned, or else collapsed, as if they had been houses built by children,
who had afterwards kicked them down.

Everywhere, from the little homes that were unhurt, as well as from the
ruined ones, the peasants were fleeing. With the passing of the first
Russian regiment _away_ from Grovno they had guessed what must
inevitably follow.

There were bent-over old women and men carrying packs on their backs
like beasts of burden, and in truth the Russian peasant has been nothing
more for many centuries. The children, who ran along beside them, were
incredibly thin and dirty and hungry.

One member of each little group would carry a lighted pine torch,
pointing the way with fitful shadows. But wherever it was possible they
followed in the wake of the wagons.

At first the night was dark and the American girls could hear their
driver muttering strange Russian imprecations as his horses stumbled
and felt their way along. Finally Barbara presented him with the
electric lamp, which had been Dick Thornton's farewell present to her on
the day of her sailing from New York City. She had used it many times
since then, but never for a queerer purpose.

However, before they reached the river the moon had risen and both Nona
and Barbara we