THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
seemed almost impossible, still the road to Steinmauern was evidently closed to us.
Softly as we had come we crawled back into our sewer and sought safety there, at least for the moment. Fortunately the rain had ceased. The water was, indeed, still high, but it did not rise any more. “Back to our bench,” I whispered to my companions. We crawled again under the railing and found our bit of plank. There we sat close together. Our next council of war had a certain solemnity about it. There were few words, but a good deal of thinking. It was clear, we could not venture into the open. To remain a longer time in the sewer was not to be thought of, because there was the danger that if it rained again we might be drowned. There was therefore nothing to be done but to go back into the town. But how could we go back into the town without falling into the hands of the Prussians? After we had exchanged these thoughts in a whisper, a long pause followed. At last I interrupted the silence, saying, “Let us eat and drink a little; good counsel may come then.” Adam unpacked our provisions, and as we had eaten nothing since breakfast time of the preceding day—midnight was now long past—hunger and thirst were keen. Our bread was, indeed, quite wet, but it tasted good; also the sausages. We remembered, in time, that we must not consume our whole store, for we did not know when and where we should get the next meal. Moreover, we were more troubled by thirst than by hunger, as is always the case under such circumstances. For nearly twelve hours our feet had been in the water, and were therefore as cold as ice. This had driven the blood to our heads. Adam now opened one of the two bottles which he had bought for us, and we discovered that they contained rum instead of wine. Although rum had always been repugnant to me, still I drank like my companions, in eager
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