They must have seen me, for I heard whistles blown and men's cries.

I struck a road, crossed it, and passed a ridge from which I had a view of Bradfield six miles off.

And as I ran I began to reflect that this kind of chase could not last long.
They were bound to round me up in the next half-hour unless I could puzzle them.

But in that bare green place there was no cover, and it looked as if my chances were pretty much those of a hare coursed by a good greyhound on a naked moor.
Suddenly from just in front of me came a familiar sound.

It was the roar of guns--the slam of field-batteries and the boom of small howitzers.