“It must be a bridge they’re building,” said Josh presently, “because just then I saw a light move along, as if held by some one who was running.”
Sounds began to reach them at the same time, which were very significant. On the whole Jack realized that there could no longer be the slightest doubt about the fact that the Austrians were pushing out a pontoon bridge with all the haste they could throw into the undertaking.
Already they seemed to be much more than half-way across the river, having, no doubt, selected a place where it was not unusually wide. And what were the Serbs doing all this while? Had they been caught napping, so that when the dawn broke the enemy would have secured a firm footing on the southern bank of the disputed river and could move the balance of his forces across at his leisure?
It looked that way, though Jack doubted it very much. From what he had read and heard of the people of the smaller kingdom he believed they were too smart not to see through the device of the enemy. He rather fancied they were in force somewhere in the darkness shrouding the southern bank, and that just when the Austrians were congratulating themselves on having met with splendid success something was scheduled to happen calculated to give the invaders a surprise.
Jack realized that it was folly for them to continue down the river. If the pontoon bridge had already reached a point three-quarters of the way across, the workers on it would quickly discover the oncoming motorboat. Indeed, the chances were the craft must bump up against one of the pontoons and could get no further.
This would be bad enough, but Jack fancied there was something ten times more dreadful awaiting them if they reached the swaying structure. Should the waiting Serbs conclude the time had come to put an end to this bridge building, a hurricane of shot and shell would be hurled across the scanty water separating them from the shore, and few there would be who could escape the rain of missiles.
That was no place for neutrals, Jack decided. The only thing that remained for them to do was to make speedily for the shore. To accomplish this desired end it would be necessary for them to start up the engine at once, though Jack meant to keep the muffler in place and cut out all the noise he could, not wishing to draw attention to that quarter.
That was where the benefit of preparedness came in handy. It took him but three seconds to accomplish what he wanted to do. Following the cranking there came a series of explosions that were not very loud, and immediately the boat started off at a lively clip.
Every one waited with more or less nervousness to see if anything happened, but not a shot was fired. Those at work on the swinging bridge were in too feverish a condition of making haste to bother about a few spluttering sounds like that; while the concealed Serbs, if there were really any such near by, did not want to disclose the fact of their presence in the vicinity by doing anything prematurely.
Jack immediately swung the boat around and headed up-stream again. He fancied they were a little too close to the pontoon bridge-builders for safety if anything did happen, as he fully expected would be the case.
When he had gone a short distance he headed for the southern shore, meaning to come to the land and stay there until something was decided, one way or the other.
“Slow up, Jack!” exclaimed Josh, who was shading his eyes with his hand, though more from habit than because he thought it aided him in seeing. “We’re close to the bank now.”
Cutting off the power, Jack allowed the boat to glide forward. George had taken up the push-pole, and with this he proceeded to help things along. So they presently came into shallow water and ran aground close to the shore, which stood out above them against the gray sky, there being something of a small bluff.
So far everything had worked well. Jack felt they had reason to be more than satisfied with the progress made. Here they could remain in secret and await coming events. If the bridge were finished, and the Austrians commenced passing over, the boys would have to make some new plans looking to the future. Everything depended on the next half hour.
The furious hammering up on the distant heights across the river still continued, and Serbian guns answered every shot, so that it might not appear they were either lacking in ammunition or courage.
There was a stir in the middle of the boat. Jack could easily guess that the two passengers were aware of the fact that they could easily spring over the side and find their feet pressing their native soil. Now was the time for them to go ashore. They could either flee to the interior or else risk everything in entering the capital after the bombardment had ceased once more, in search of the mother, who had been last heard from there.
The boy gripped each one of them by the hand. What he said they could not understand, though it was easy to guess the meaning of his warm words of thanks. They had each one of them to kiss the little girl, for Josh boldly started it and no one wished to be left out.
After that the Serbian lad jumped over the side, standing in water up to his ankles, and lifted his sister to dry ground. The four motorboat chums saw them no more, but they would always remember the incident with pleasure.
After the two had gone Jack breathed more easily. He felt that he could face the future, no matter what it had in store for them, with a better spirit, now that the pretty little girl had been removed from danger in their company. Besides, it must always be a source of satisfaction to himself and mates to remember that they had been enabled to prove of more or less assistance to those who were in deep trouble, with no way out of the difficulty save by the help of the American lads.
“I wonder now if the Serbs are asleep at the switch while all this thing is going on below here?” George said, after a little more time had passed, and they could hear the working human beavers on the pontoon bridge more plainly than ever.
“Don’t you believe it,” Josh told him. “Look up and see what a splendid ambush this little bluff would make. Well, take my word for it, down below there Serbs are crouching in bunches, waiting with their machine guns until just when it seems the bridge is going to be joined with the shore. Then you’ll hear something drop!”
“My stars!” muttered Buster, “I wouldn’t want to be one of those poor fellows at work with those pontoons, not for all the gold in King Solomon’s mine I wouldn’t. They won’t have a ghost of a show, I’m afraid.”
“But we’re far enough away from the place not to be in danger—how about that, Jack?” George went on to say in a cautious tone.
“Only a random shot could come this way, if the Austrians on the other shore start things going. I don’t believe they will, because they’ll be afraid of hitting their own men.”
“This is exciting, all right,” ventured Josh.
“Well, better all keep still again,” Jack remarked; “we might attract some attention, you know, and that’s the last thing we want to do right now. If the bridge is destroyed we can wait a while until things cool off, and then try our luck again, dropping down with the current.”
They kept as well behind the side of the boat as possible, acting on Jack’s advice, though the thin shell could hardly serve as a means of protection in case a projectile of any sort came that way.
Once more the minutes dragged fearfully, though their suspense was hardly of the same personal nature as before. It seemed to Buster that there was a mine to be exploded out there on the river, and that those soldiers who were working feverishly to complete the bridge must be directly over it. Any second now they might expect to hear a dreadful crash, and catch the shouts of those who were in range of the firing, as well as the rending of the boats under the rain of missiles.
Nearer still the Austrian bridge builders were coming. They had been well trained in their business, those army engineers, and worked methodically, even while laboring under a tremendous strain both of body and mind.
Jack, chancing to come in contact with Buster, found the other shivering as if he had the ague. He knew that it was due to agitation consequent upon excitement. Doubtless the beads of perspiration were rolling down Buster’s cheeks at the same time, even though the night air was rather chilly now instead of being warm.
Jack was glad he had been wise enough to come back up the river some little distance before reaching land. If the Austrian batteries turned some of their guns on that shore later, the boys would stand less chance of being hit when the mighty shells exploded along the bluff.
“Oh! I wish it was all over with!” groaned Josh, upon whom the dreadful suspense was telling terribly.
Hardly had he said this than the very atmosphere about them seemed to be rent with a tremendous explosion. A gun had been fired not far away, for the fire blazed forth from the little bluff almost over their heads. There was heard a dreadful rending of planks and boats, accompanied by shouts and shrieks.
This was the opening gun.
Almost immediately there leaped from the shore below the boys what looked like a long zigzag line of fire. Accompanying it came the discordant grinding of numerous machine guns, sending a constant stream of missiles out there upon the swaying pontoon bridge.
The darkness was for the time being dispelled, and the boys saw with staring eyes such a vivid picture as comes seldom in the lives of any one not a soldier. It fascinated even while appalling them by its horrible reality.
The constant flashing of the rapid-fire guns dazzled their eyes, but at the same time they could see the strange low bridge built upon the aligned pontoons. It had been hastily but fairly well constructed, considering that the workmen had to handle their tools in almost utter darkness. Instinct and long practice had to take the place of eyesight.
They were swarming like bees all over the structure even then, some carrying planks and others hurrying back for new burdens. Just on the down-river side the boys could catch glimpses of many who seemed to be pushing other pontoons out, by holding on to the part of the bridge already finished. These they expected to use in filling the remaining gap between the present terminus of the bridge and the intended anchorage on the bank.
Alas! they were never given the opportunity to carry out their well-laid plans. That hurricane of lead and iron was sweeping everything before it. Men were going down by dozens; some plunged from the bridge into the river, seeking to take the chances of being drowned to the certainty of death in that hailstorm of deadly messengers.
Every conceivable manner of outcry could be heard. Men shrieked, and shouted, and probably swore in their own language. They were sprawled out all over the shuddering bridge, some crawling, others perfectly still. It seemed to be a regular shambles the wide-awake Serbs had made of that promising pontoon bridge. Instead of being “asleep at the switch,” as one of the boys had hinted, it seemed that they had set a sly trap, and simply bided their time, waiting until the enemy had almost completed his work before setting out to demolish it.
Again the boys heard that larger gun somewhere close by give tongue. As they continued to stare as though spellbound they saw that this time the gunner had planned to smash the bridge half-way across. True had been his aim, for the missile cut a passage completely through the pontoons, leaving a gap some four feet or more wide there.
Josh gave vent to a cry; he could no longer suppress the emotion that seemed to be overpowering him. Unless he did something, or said something, he would begin to believe it must all be a horrible nightmare.
“Look, oh! look!” was what he exclaimed shrilly, forgetting all need of caution, for the guns were still grinding forth with that weird strain that, once heard, could never be forgotten; “they’ve smashed the bridge over there with that shell! This half of it is beginning to break up and float away with the current. It’s all going to pieces, I tell you!”
They could see that Josh had not overestimated the terrible damage that had been wrought by that cleverly aimed shell. Deprived of its supports, the near end of the line of pontoons had already yielded to the drag of the current and was beginning to pass down-stream. As it went it also commenced to break into smaller sections. Here a boat sank, having been pierced by some of the numerous bits of flying metal. Again others broke away and floated off by themselves, often with dead or living freight.
The whole surface of the water seemed to be dotted with innumerable fragments of what only three minutes before had been a splendid specimen of engineering skill. The Serbs had waited until just the right time to strike their blow. They had made it felt, too, for the Austrian losses must have been terribly severe. More than that even, the injury to the morale of the dual kingdom’s troops must have counted for a whole lot, while renewed confidence would be the portion of the defenders of the southern bank.
It was almost like a strange dream to some of the boys. Buster, who had gazed at the wonderful spectacle with distended eyes, might have been noticed to pinch himself violently on the leg, as though hardly able to believe that he was really awake and looking at such a picture of war’s horrors.
The firing had mostly stopped by now, only that big gun sent another shell over, and succeeded in cutting another third of the pontoons loose, to be carried down-stream in a state approaching chaos.
Once again did darkness fall like a merciful curtain upon the scene. The boys were glad to have its horrors shut out from their sight. Never so long as they lived would they be likely to forget that smashing of the pontoon bridge.
“Was it real, and did we see that bridge knocked into flinders?” asked Buster, when the terrific racket had in the main died out and it was possible for them to exchange comments or ask each others’ advice.
“As genuine as anything that ever crossed our path,” replied Josh. “Ugh! wasn’t it fierce, though, to see those poor Austrians crawling like ants all over the old thing when it began to break up? Some of them were badly wounded, too. I tell you, we’ll be seeing that sight many a time when we wake up from a bad dream.”
“But what are we going to do now, fellows?” George wanted to know.
“The way is clear again,” suggested Josh, helplessly.
“And will be right along to-night, unless those Austrian engineers try to shove out another lot of their pontoons, to be smashed into kindling wood,” George said.
“There they begin firing again!” exclaimed Buster, in a fresh tremor; “oh! I wonder what’s in the wind now.”
“It’s all from over the river on the Austrian side, you notice,” Jack remarked, after the crash of a shell had been heard not a sixth of a mile below them and apparently close to the bluff that marked the river’s edge.
“They’re as mad as hops over the smart way the Serbs knocked their bridge down, seems like,” suggested Buster.
“That’s where your head’s level, Buster!” exclaimed Josh; “if they can’t have the game go their own way they won’t play in the Serbs’ back-yard. So now they’re meaning to shell the river bank over here.”
“What for?” asked the fat chum wonderingly. “They can’t see a single one of the Serbs’ batteries, or even a man for that matter.”
“But they’ve located the different spots where that hot fire came from, and are hoping to get a few of the enemy guns with their big shells,” continued Josh, who could always be depended on to do the explaining when he grasped a subject himself.
“Well, then, I do hope they won’t drop a shell over this way and give us a bad scare,” said Buster.
“That’s a fact; that gun by which the bridge was cut to pieces did get in its work from near by here!” added George uneasily.
“I heard men talking and horses whinnying between the bursts of firing,” said Jack; “so I reckon they cleared out just as soon as their work was done. That’s the case, too, all along the line, the batteries and their supporting columns falling back to new positions so as to avoid the bombardment they know mighty well is going to come.”
Sitting there in the boat, they watched the fitful flashes of fire on the ridge far back from the river. It was much more thrilling than any storm they had ever seen; and then would come the crash as each enormous shell exploded on the southern side of the hotly contested stream that served as the border between the hostile countries.
Once there was a frightful detonation not far away from where the boys huddled aboard the little motorboat. The Austrian gunners had commenced to send missiles toward the spot from which the Serb gun had barked. Doubtless a terrible hole had been knocked in the bluff, a cavity that looked like a crater resulting from the explosion.
Every one of them had felt the shock attending the bursting of the high explosive shell, though luckily none of the fragments chanced to scatter in their direction.
“Oh! that was an awful crack!” groaned Buster, as though his heart might have tried to jump into his throat and partly choke him. “I do hope they won’t give us an encore. A hundred feet further this way and our name would have been Dennis.”
“Huh!” grumbled George, “better say it would be Mud, because we’d have gone into the river with tons of the earth here.”
“Listen! The Serbs are replying now!” said Jack.
“And that gun sounded exactly like the one that knocked the bridge to bits,” added Josh.
“Let’s hope, then, the fellows across on the hills there recognize its bark!” George exclaimed with considerable fervor, “and realize that it isn’t around this region any longer. Then they won’t bother wasting any more of their ammunition in bombarding this place.”
Apparently this was just what happened, for that shell was not followed by others, much to the relief of the boys. Buster in his heart even forgave the Austrians all they had done to nearly frighten him to death because of their forbearance now.
“No use wasting your good stuff any more, Mr. Austrian General,” he announced, “because the bully little Serbs have been too smart for you. They shot their bolt and then changed partners, just like you might do in dancing the Lancers. So call it off and settle down again.”
The firing still kept up, however.
“They’ve got oceans of ammunition up there,” remarked George, “and have been just aching to expend some of it, which is why they keep on whanging away when they haven’t any more chance to hit anything than you’d meet with in finding a needle in a haystack.”
“But they won’t try to keep it up all night long, I hope?” Buster observed.
“Not much danger of that,” Jack told him, knowing the other was fretting.
“I wonder if the boy and his kid sister will manage to get into Belgrade, and also find their mother alive?” Josh went on to say, showing that even in the midst of all that horrible confusion he could let his thoughts stray to the pair whom they had so generously assisted in their great trouble.
“We’ll hope so, anyway,” George added, for he, too, had been greatly drawn to the winsome little lassie with the bright eyes, now able to see as well as any one.
“I can see lights moving across the river and low down,” announced the keen-eyed Josh just then, and his words gave Buster a thrill.
“My stars! I wonder if those stubborn Austrians are meaning to tackle the job again and try a second bridge? They may have a new lot of pontoons, you know, and want to use them. Some people never can take a hint, it seems, and that one from the Serbs was as strong as anything could be. ‘No trespass’ was the sign they nailed to that bridge when they scattered it over the water.”
“‘Keep off the grass,’ you’d better say, Buster,” corrected Josh whimsically.
“I hardly think they’re reckless enough to make another attempt at this place to-night,” Jack told them. “When they get ready to try again it will be in a locality further removed from Belgrade. They can always hope to catch the Serbs off their guard, you know.”
“But then what are those lights moving around over there for?” demanded Buster.
“You can see others further down the river in the bargain,” Josh explained. “In my humble opinion they’re looking up their wounded, and trying to pick up any who managed to swim ashore below.”
“You notice that the Serbs are not interfering with them at all,” Jack continued, “which goes to show they believe just as Josh here said, and that it’s the Red Cross corps working along the river bank.”
“I guess the Serbs feel satisfied with what they’ve done to-night,” was George’s comment. “Not only have they smashed the bridge of the Austrians, but must have killed and wounded hundreds of the enemy. All this with little loss to themselves. It’s going to make them feel their oats, let me tell you.”
“Still Austria is so powerful that sooner or later a force three times as big as the Serbian army can be thrown across the Danube to invade the country. When it does come to that, though,” added Josh, “I give you my word for it, they’ll fight like tigers.”
“You notice that the firing is dying down again, don’t you?” asked Jack.
Only an occasional shot still sounded. When it did come the deep grumbling echoes rumbled back and forth between the opposing heights until they died away in softer cadence in the distance.
“How will we go from here, Jack?” questioned George. “Will it be safe to start up the engine while we’re so close by?”
“I was studying that very thing, George,” replied the other, “and had about made up my mind that it would be much better for us to repeat what we did before.”
“That means push out with the pole, and let the boat float on the current, eh, Jack?”
“After we get a mile or two further down the river we can think of using a little power and increasing our speed. But this is dangerous ground, you know,” was what the skipper went on to say.
Buster knew that the time was coming, and very soon now, when they would again be on the move. He was glad of it, and yet at the same time viewed the approaching change of base with fresh anxiety. So many perils seemed to yawn in front of them, and all with ominous aspect.
He stared out upon the darkened river, though, of course, it was little he could see. Still, to Buster just then it was peopled with enemies of every type, men in boats moving around seeking trouble, and ready to strike hard at the first sign of opposition.
Buster found himself between the two horns of a dilemma; he wanted to get away from there, and at the same time hated to incur fresh perils. As generally happened with him, in the end he decided to put himself entirely in the hands of his three mates and let them settle the matter as they thought fit.
Which was possibly the best thing Buster could have done.
By the time another ten minutes had crept past Jack began to bestir himself.
“Is it time?” asked Buster dubiously.
“The firing seems to have stopped entirely,” he was told, “and if that’s the case, the sooner we’re out of here the better.”
Of course, there would be Serb sentries posted all along the river bank, unseen in the darkness, but ever vigilant to detect and report anything suspicious that might take place. On the other hand, some of the Austrians might have put out in boats stationed below on purpose, meaning to search for wounded men among the floating fragments of the pontoon bridge.
Once Jack put some of his strength into his work and they could feel the boat gliding away from the shoal water where they had been lying quietly for such a length of time.
Buster drew a long breath, and tried to pierce the gloom by which they were surrounded. If there was anything he hated it was that sense of impending evil, with not the slightest chance to ward it off. Still he got a grip on himself, and determined that if the others could stand it he must do the same.
As soon as they were out a short distance from the shore the ever-present current took hold of the boat, and they found that they were beginning to move down the river.
Jack worked hard at his task. He knew it would be to their advantage to get as far away from the bank as possible before passing the places where the Serbs had lain in ambush. There would be less danger of their presence on the water being discovered in that case.
Josh hovered near by. Unable to resist the temptation, he finally took hold of the pole while Jack was pushing, and “leaned on it” in a way to render considerable assistance.
Everything seemed to be working in a satisfactory manner so far as making good progress went. If it kept up for a few minutes more Jack believed they would have achieved their end.
A single shot coming from further down the river on the northern bank gave him some little cause for uneasiness lest the fierce bombardment break out again. It proved to be a false alarm, since nothing followed, the Serbs never even taking the trouble to respond to the invitation. They had taken up new positions, and apparently were averse to letting the enemy “feel them out.”
Now they must have reached the place where the swaying bridge made of heavy planks laid upon successive pontoon boats had a short while before been in the process of completion.
It gave the boys a queer sensation to remember this. Over the spot which they were now passing had swept that hurricane of missiles, mowing down the engineers engaged in bridge building as though they might be wheat falling before the reaper.
All was clear now, not a sign of the recent dreadful engagement being visible. Further down the river doubtless there would be met with fragments of the wrecked bridge. Jack knew that later on they would have to keep on the lookout for all such obstacles to a safe passage; but there would be little or no danger up to the time they started the engine and increased their pace.
About that time, when all of them felt exceedingly nervous over the possibility of being fired upon, possibly Buster may not have been the only one of the little party who called himself a fool for having accepted this risk.
It was too late now for vain regrets, however; they had made their beds and must lie in them.
“Well, we’re past that awful place, anyway,” whispered Buster presently; and no doubt, while the others did not echo his words, they felt just about as the stout chum did.
“Do you know,” Josh was saying cautiously, “the way that bridge went to pieces made me think of a house of cards when you blow at it.”
“Please don’t talk any more just now,” asked Jack; “we’re still too close to the bank, and you might be heard.”
“Correct!” said Josh, which in his vernacular was as much as asking Jack to excuse his break.
After they had floated along for some time, and Jack figured that they must by then have covered all of two miles, he decided it would be safe to start the engine. Of course, this could not be done without more or less popping and similar noise, try the best he was able; but Jack figured that the Serbs would not open fire for several good and sufficient reasons.
In the first place, they knew they had nothing to fear from one small launch, no matter if it were an enemy craft. Then again, as the Austrian Red Cross was undoubtedly searching for victims of that fusillade, there was a chance that this might be one of their units pursuing a mission of mercy.
Accordingly Jack started things up.
The engine responded readily to treatment, much to the satisfaction of Buster, who had been entertaining serious fears. The motor had proved tricky on one other occasion, he remembered, and on this account he wondered what they would ever do should it go back on them again.
They were now in the war zone, and it would hardly be possible to get repairs made and secure permission to continue down the Danube on their cruise.
Of course, Jack did not think to put on a full head of power; that would hardly have been wise while they were apt to come upon floating remnants of the bridge at any time.
“Josh, you can help me now if you want to,” he presently told the other.
“Give your orders, then, Commodore.”
“Crawl up forward, and keep as close a watch on the water as you can,” Jack told him. “I mean directly in front of us, because it might get us in trouble if we ran smack into one of those pontoons out here in the middle of the river.”
“I get your meaning, all right,” responded Josh, starting to carry the plan out. “I’ll call myself the lookout man, and signal you to back her in case I see any sign of trouble ahead.”
“Give a sharp whistle, and I’ll know what that means,” the skipper told him.
So Josh crept past Jack and sprawled there in the extreme bow. He possessed good eyesight, and was likely to discover any floating object long before they were in danger of striking the same.
Buster, too, strained his eyes in order to try and supplement the good work; but George contented himself with lolling there in a comfortable position. What was the use, he doubtless figured, of everybody getting excited? If later on Josh wanted some one to “spell” him George would be quite willing to assume the responsibility; but he did not mean to wear out his eyes when not on duty. And no doubt George was quite right.
Things were going on so well that every one felt much encouraged. Buster was even trying to figure on what sort of speed they were making, and where they would arrive if able to keep on at this pace all through that night.
“Jack said it was about a hundred miles down to the Iron Gate,” he told himself, “where the river makes a turn and starts to divide Serbia from Rumania. Wonder if we could make half of that between now and morning, and what would we do through the day? I must ask Jack first chance I get if he thinks it would be safe for us to keep on down the river by daylight, with soldiers guarding every mile of the banks and ordering us to come ashore and explain who we are.”
Just then Buster gave a sudden start, for Josh had whistled sharply. Jack instantly cut off the power and then started to reverse the engine so that their headway might be reduced to next to nothing.
“Steady, Jack; we’re going to come alongside a pontoon that seems to be partly filled with water!” said Josh in a stage whisper.
He leaned still further over the bow, as though bent upon reaching out to fend off from the object that was floating like a derelict upon the bosom of the great river.
“I’ve got it all right, fellows,” Josh continued saying; “and would you believe it, there’s a wounded man in the same! Guess he’d have gone down in less’n ten minutes only for our coming along.”
“What’s that you say, Josh?” asked Buster eagerly, “a wounded man! How do you know but what he’s dead?”
“Because he’s sitting up here,” came the prompt reply.
Jack knew what that meant. They could not leave a poor fellow badly injured to go down with the leaking pontoon.
“We’ve got to get him aboard here, that’s flat!” said George, as though voicing what was passing through the mind of each of his chums just then.
Jack left the wheel and, passing along the side of the boat, leaned over. Yes, there was a man in the sinking pontoon. He did not appear to know whether they would turn out to be friends or foes; but his situation was desperate, and upon seeing several heads appear in view he commenced saying something in a weak voice.
“That’s Magyar, of course,” remarked George; “but the trouble is none of us can translate a word of the same. However, that doesn’t make any difference. Shall we help him over the side, Jack?”
“Three of us can do the business, easy enough,” responded the other.
When the Austrian engineer realized that they meant him to leave his wretched float and clamber into the motorboat, he lost no time in starting to obey; though his actions quickly told them he must be very weak, either through loss of blood or from the shock of his wound.
Once he was deposited in the cabin, Jack sent Josh again to the lookout, and himself started the engine. The man had sunk upon the cushioned seat as though quite content to take things as he found them. He heard these unknown parties speaking in what he must have known was English, and was no doubt much astonished. Just the main thing with him was being rescued from the fate that had been threatening him with a watery grave.
“Jack, he’s pretty badly hurt, I reckon,” suggested George soon afterward.
“Well, something ought to be done for him, that’s certain,” the skipper started to say. “Do you think you could manage it, George? I don’t want to give up the wheel, and Josh is really needed forward there.”
George did not hesitate long. He guessed that it might be anything but a pleasant task, but then George had learned long ago not to shrink because things were not always delightful.
“I’m willing to do the best I can, Jack,” he said quickly.
“I knew you would, George, and there’s not one of us can dress a wound better than you, once you set your mind to the job. Get Buster to help you, George.”
“Sure I will,” spoke up the stout chum, “though I’m not clever at handling sick people, and always shiver at sight of blood. But you’ll need some kind of light to work by, won’t you, George?”
“Wait,” said Jack. “You remember I’ve got that little vest pocket electric torch. I’ve been saving it because I’m afraid the battery will soon run out. But this is just the time to make use of it.”
He thereupon handed Buster the article in question, a small nickeled affair not over three inches in length. When the button was pressed there came a shaft of light that was fairly strong.
“Just the ticket, Jack,” announced George, who was removing his coat with a business-like air that quite tickled Buster, who thought George already seemed to take on a professional look.
They could now see that the man taken from the sinking pontoon was a young Austrian soldier. He had no marks on his uniform to prove him anything save a private, but that made no difference to the boys. They had seen how those engineering corps men had taken their lives in their hands in order to bridge the Danube so that the artillery might be transported across to the other bank, and had also watched them going down by scores when that furious fire burst out from the hidden Serbian trenches. On this account they must honor him as a brave man.
He knew what George was about to do. Perhaps, after all, taking off his coat was the sign that made his intentions clear to one who could not understand English very well.
Buster shut his teeth hard when the light focussed on the man showed that one of his arms was bloody. Still he did not quail, for Buster could do a thing once he put his mind to it.
George set to work. The Austrian soldier understood that he was to help as well as he could, and between them they managed to get the water-soaked coat off. Then the sleeve of his shirt was carefully rolled up, disclosing the wound.
It was enough to make one with a stouter heart than Buster shudder, for the cut was severe, and had bled a great deal. From his pack George took some linen bandages, without which his mother would not have let him leave home. He had other appliances in the bargain, among which was surgeon’s adhesive plaster, with which to keep the ends of bandages in place.
First of all George proceeded to wash the wound, Buster getting him some water from the river in a tin basin they carried. After that he applied the soothing salve that was intended to purify and take away some of the pain that would be sure to follow on the morrow.
Jack glanced in every little while, and saw that George was getting on splendidly, having tied a tourniquet above the wound in order to stop the bleeding. He was now engaged in winding a bandage tightly around the arm in a most professional way.
The man appeared to be very grateful. He said something once in a while, but as none of them could understand a word of Magyar they had to guess at its meaning. Actions speak louder than mere words, however, so they knew that the patient appreciated their efforts in his behalf, and that he was trying to tell them as much.
Finally, to the great relief of Buster, the job was done, and the man had his coat on again, though that left sleeve hung empty at his side.
“And I want to say, George,” remarked Buster, as he shut off the light and handed the little pocket torch back to the owner, “that you did the job up as neat as wax. If ever I have the misfortune to get jabbed by a bullet I want to engage you as the chief surgeon right now. I’d feel myself in good hands, all right.”
Of course, this pleased George very much. It was not so very often that he did anything to call for such fulsome praise; but he knew Buster meant every word he uttered, because Buster was candid and sincere.
“I’m beginning to wonder what will strike us next,” George went on to say. “We are sure neutral in this world war, because one day we hold out a helping hand to a couple of young Serbs in trouble, and right afterwards pick a wounded Austrian out of a sinking pontoon and look after his hurts.”
“Well, that’s the way it goes,” asserted Buster, with a philosophical air. “You never can tell what will happen, and especially when there’s a silly old war on. We may run across others who are clinging to fragments of that bridge until we gather up a boatload.”
“Then there’d be nothing else for us to do but run over to the Austrian side of the river and land the whole bunch,” George told him.
Josh meanwhile had kept a good lookout. Several times he sighted other pontoons and floating planks, but as they did not happen to be in the direct way of the motorboat he had not given the warning whistle to cause Jack to stop.
He had watched in every case to ascertain whether there happened to be occupants to these boats, but discovered none. If men had floated away on them when the Serbian gun smashed the bridge, they must either have made their way to the shore and been taken off by search parties or else gone down into the depths.
By degrees, however, these reminders of the dreadful tragedy became fewer and fewer until Josh failed to discover any more of them. From this he decided that, owing to the increased momentum attained for the motorboat by the use of its engine, they had by this time distanced all drifting snags. Still he clung to his post until another ten minutes had elapsed, when he came back to where Jack sat.
“We’ve got beyond all the floaters, Jack,” he remarked, “and anyway my eyes begin to feel the strain. So I thought I’d just drop in and find out what your plan of campaign might be.”
“Do you mean for to-night?” asked the pilot at the wheel.
“Sure thing, Jack. We’re moving right now at a healthy pace, but how long do you mean to keep the same up, I’d like to know?”
Jack took a look aloft. He found that the same conditions prevailed there, with the heavens covered with clouds so that the moon was entirely shrouded from view.
“If things continued like that up there,” he assured Josh, “I’d feel like keeping on the move the whole night long. We’ll have to hide somewhere in the daytime so as to keep from getting into trouble; and perhaps to-morrow night we can cover the balance of the distance separating us from the Iron Gate.”
“But how will you be able to stand it?” demanded Josh, indignantly.
“Oh, I can make up for lost sleep to-morrow, you know; there’ll be really nothing else to do the whole day long but sleep. And if I find myself getting too dopey for any use, why, I can call on George or you to take hold. It’s all right, Josh, and please don’t waste any pity on me. I’m only too glad to be able to cover half that hundred miles before dawn comes on.”
Josh knew better than to dispute Jack when his mind was made up. Besides, that arrangement just suited his own ideas.
George had been listening to this talk, also Buster.
“I don’t call it fair for you to take all the burden on your shoulders, Jack,” expostulated the former; “especially when the rest of us are willing to do our part.”
“Oh, so far as that goes, George,” he was told, “you’re all under orders, you know; but if I get tired I promise to call on you for help.”
Time passed, and the motorboat continued to swing along with the current hour after hour. Jack did not attempt to make great speed. There was no necessity, and such a move would be doubly dangerous, on account of possible snags, and also discovery from the shore.
In spite of their resolve to stay awake, Buster and Josh and George seemed to be enjoying a pretty healthy nap. The wounded stranger also lay very quiet. Jack hoped he was not in too great pain.
It was a long, dreary spell of duty for the boy at the wheel. When finally George did manage to awaken and, sitting up, asked Jack if he meant to let him take a turn, he was considerably astonished to hear the other say:
“I hardly think it would be worth while for me to lie down just now, George, because, you see, the night is nearly gone, and any minute we may have to be turning in to the shore to look for a cove where we can stay during the day.”
Both of them watched closely for an opening. If the Danube was anything like the rivers they were accustomed to in their home land an occasional little bayou was likely to occur, an indentation in the shore line where possibly some creek emptied its waters into the greater stream.
If only they could find some such a friendly harbor it was Jack’s idea to push the motorboat in and remain secreted during the entire day. He had an idea that the region they were now passing through was rather wild and not settled very thickly, which fact was apt to please them considerably.
Josh happened to wake up about this time and wanted to know what was going on. When he was told that morning was not far distant he could hardly believe it until Jack asked him to notice where the moon had gotten far over in the west, for it was possible to locate the heavenly luminary behind the clouds.
“All right, then,” he remarked, after George had informed him what they were bent on doing, “there’s your little crook in the shore just ahead of us.”
“You’ve certainly got the eyes of a cat, Josh,” George told him; “because it is what we’re looking for, as sure as anything.”
Jack was already making use of the setting-pole to urge the motorboat toward the shore. As the current proved very mild close in, he did not have much difficulty in doing this.
They managed to enter the cove, for such it proved to be. As far as they could see in the wretched light it was surrounded by thickets and lush grass.
“Just the sort of place we wanted to run across,” remarked George; “and the celebrated Stormways luck still holds good, it seems.”
They soon had the boat fast to the bank. It was then that Buster sat up and commenced yawning at a terrific rate.
“Here, what’s going on out there?” he asked cautiously. “Have we got fast on a sandbar? Do you want any help pushing off?”
When he crawled out from the cabin he stared around him as though he could not understand it.
“What! gone ashore so soon, after all, Jack?” he remarked reproachfully.
“So soon?” echoed Josh. “Why, do you know it’s nearly morning, boy? All of us just slept like logs and let Jack do the work. I feel like kicking myself, that’s what.”
“Let me do it for you then, Josh?” asked Buster. “It’ll help wake me up good and plenty, you know.”
“Thank you, but I’m capable of doing my own kicking most of the time. But Jack, now that we’ve landed, you get in under the shelter and make yourself comfortable right away. We’ll wake you up later on when we’ve got breakfast ready.”
“That’s right, sure we will,” added Buster vehemently, though he looked disappointed because Josh placed such little confidence in him.
“Of course, I needn’t ask you fellows to look out for our passenger,” remarked Jack. “He seemed to sleep a part of the time, though I heard him groaning once or twice, poor chap. Be sure to cook enough breakfast for an extra boarder when you’re about it, Buster.”
With that Jack consented to lie down. He was asleep before five minutes went by, being fairly well exhausted. When they aroused him two hours later it was long since full day. The clouds, too, were breaking overhead, promising fair weather, a fact that pleased them all very much.
Breakfast was ready, and the odors gave promise of an appetizing meal. Jack discovered that George had looked again at the arm of the injured Austrian, though not removing the bandage, as everything seemed to be getting along nicely. The man appeared to be rather cheerful. He could say a few words of English, and managed to understand that they were American boys to whom he found himself indebted perhaps for his very life, certainly for the many comforts he was now enjoying.
After they had partaken of breakfast and satisfied their keen appetites, the boys sat around and talked in low tones. Josh, while Buster was getting the meal, had gone ashore and roamed around a little. He reported that so far as he could see the place was quite lonely.
“I discovered the house of a Serb peasant,” he explained. “There are only an old man and woman home, as their boys have been called to the colors to fight. They seem to be well disposed and can speak some English. I told them who we were and what we were doing on the river. I also took pains to speak of the Serbian boy and girl we helped get through the lower part of Austria and landed near Belgrade. They say we are all of fifty miles away from the capital now.”
“I figured we must have covered something like that last night,” said Jack confidently; “and another similar turn would take us to where we would have no need of feeling worried. I was thinking that perhaps we might influence this couple to take our patient off our hands and keep him until he can get across the river again. A couple of dollars would be something worth while to them, you know.”
“We’ll try it, anyhow,” ventured Josh. “Another thing, fellows; I bargained with them to have a chicken killed and dressed for our dinner. If we do have to hold over here, there’s no reason why we should go on half rations.”
As the morning advanced they began to hear the far distant sound of heavy firing again. This, of course, held their attention more or less, for they had come to take a personal interest in the warfare between the would-be invaders and the gallant Serbs, who stood ready to defend their shore from attack.
Not feeling just like lying down again, Jack accompanied Josh over to the humble cabin home of the old peasants. They managed to talk with them, partly through the sign language, by means of which so much can be exchanged between two people neither of whom can speak the other’s tongue.
Jack found that the old people were not at all bitter toward Austrians as citizens, their resentment being only for those in high places, who they believed desired the ultimate annexation of all Serbia in order to link the Teutonic races with Turkey and the East, where Germany believed the star of destiny was drawing her, with the rich booty of India in her eye.
They readily agreed to care for the wounded engineer corps man until such time as he could get across the river again to his own country. Later in the day the boys brought the Austrian to the cabin and saw him installed there. George had made a stout sling for his wounded arm, and on the whole the man felt that these young Americans had treated him splendidly.
So they had again “cleared the decks,” as Josh put it. First the Serb brother and sister, and next the injured bridge-builder who had been swept away in that hurricane of fire when the concealed Serbs smashed the pontoon structure.
All they meant to wait for now was the coming of night. They could eat an early dinner, for Buster had that fowl all cut up and ready for the frying pan. With the coming of darkness after the gloaming they meant to start forth, take the middle of the river, and make as fast time as the conditions warranted.
All of them were glad to see the sun sinking toward the western hills. During the afternoon there had been no vigorous firing in the distance, though once in a while they would catch a faint boom. It was just as though the contestants wanted each other to know they were still watchfully waiting.
No doubt the Austrians would have other plans to try and carry out. Because the first pontoon bridge had been wrecked was no reason they would not exert themselves to effect a crossing. History tells us that in the end they did succeed in transporting an army to Serbia, and for some time pressed the men of the valiant old King Peter back along the valley of the Morava; but once among the hills and wilder country so suited to their style of fighting, the Serbs, with the old king at their head, struck heavy blows that brought consternation upon their enemies. In the end the Austrians were compelled to begin a retreat that savored almost of a rout, so that for months afterwards not a single invader remained on Serbian territory.
Buster had supper ready on time, and it was a royal feast. He had gone ashore to where the obliging Josh had built a splendid cooking fire, and here Buster had an opportunity to spread himself.
By the time supper had been finished and everything cleaned up it was beginning to actually grow dark. Jack was keeping track of the time, and also of the attendant conditions.
“We ought to leave here in ten minutes or so,” he said. “The moon, being some past the full, isn’t to be looked for until about nine o’clock or later to-night. That’s going to give us an hour and more of darkness to make our first run. After that we’ll have to take Hobson’s choice.”
“The moon is going to shine bright enough,” observed Josh; “but as the river is getting pretty wide down here, and we can keep to the middle, it’s small chance of our being seen from ashore. Besides, there are few soldiers around this part of the country, the old man said.”
When the ten minutes mentioned by Jack had passed the word was given, and once more the motorboat began descending the dark waters of the Danube.
That was another night of constant watchfulness. Some one would have to be on duty every minute of the time they were in motion, to handle the wheel and keep the motorboat as near the middle of the big river as possible.
The moon shone brightly at times, and again hid her face behind friendly clouds. But they were at a good distance from either shore, and objects even in the full of the moon are never distinct. A peculiar little haze, too, hung over the water, making things seem very romantic, and helping Jack and his chums wonderfully.
Jack changed his plan of campaign on this second night. He decided to sit out the first hour or two and then resign in favor of George, who in turn might be followed by Josh, though the last mentioned was not as much of a skipper as the occasion called for.
The worst of the danger Jack believed was past. It lay in that quarter where the Austrians had expected to force a passage of the Danube by means of a pontoon bridge, over which, their heavy guns could be taken. There would undoubtedly be more or less peril all along the border, for not a mile but would have its watchers, eager to report any activity on the other side. Still Jack hoped to pass almost unnoticed, if fortune were kind.
This programme then was carried out, George being put in charge of the wheel about ten o’clock, with orders to call the skipper if anything suspicious came to pass. This might consist of any one of a dozen different things; and George felt that his honor was at stake when he took command of the expedition, so it could easily be understood he was wide awake.
Just two hours afterwards Jack sat up. He had been sound asleep all that time, and, considerably to the surprise of the wheelsman, awoke at the very time he said he would.
They sat and chatted in low tones for a long time. Nothing happened to alarm them, and the boat kept constantly descending the widening Danube. At times the shores came closer together as the country assumed a wilder aspect, with mountains bordering the romantic looking stream. Occasionally they could see dim lights on one side or the other, which would indicate that they were passing some village or town.
It was well toward morning when Jack awoke the others. Long before this George, who had been yawning tremendously, decided that it was unnecessary for him to try and sit Jack out. If the skipper were bent on keeping the wheel constantly, what was the need of any one else losing their full quota of sleep? And so George had lain down again, though protesting to the last that he didn’t think it quite fair.
When Jack awoke them it was with a word of caution.
“We’ve got to the Iron Gate, fellows,” was what he told them, “and I thought you would be sorry if you didn’t have a chance to see for yourselves. Besides, there’s more or less danger for us in the next half hour, so I concluded you ought to be on deck. No talking now, please, but watchful waiting.”
They sat there and counted the minutes as the boat passed between what seemed like high bluffs. George could easily understand now why the place was called the Iron Gate. Bulgaria’s nearest border lay only thirty miles away, but the intervening country was so rocky and wild that an army would have a frightful time trying to force its way across the strip, especially when such valiant fighters as the Serbians manned the heights.
Nothing happened, however, and later on Jack calmly announced that they had made the turn in safety upon which so much depended.
Instead of Austria, they now had Rumania on their left, and as that country was at peace with Serbia, there was little occasion for believing the shores would be manned by troops or batteries.
Jack consented to go and lie down as the faint streaks of coming dawn began to appear in the east. He had been under a heavy strain, although his manner was so cheerful that one would never suspect it; and he certainly needed a good long rest.
They did not wake him up for breakfast, acting on his orders. This frugal meal Buster prepared while they were going at full speed down the constantly widening river.
So the morning passed. At noon Jack made his appearance and announced that he felt like a new man again. George, who had been skipper for the time being, refused to resign his post of honor until dinner time had come and gone. Tired of being on board, they found a good retired place and went ashore to prepare this meal, as well as “loaf” for an hour or two in the heat of the day.
Long before night came on they had left turbulent Serbia far behind and found themselves running between Bulgaria and Rumania.
Two days later found them at the bustling Bulgarian river city of Rustchuk, and here they rested for fully twenty-four hours, laying in a few more stores and trying to learn something of the great events that were happening in other parts of Europe.
It was here they heard that the Belgians had stood like a stone wall in front of the Kaiser’s legions, ten times their strength, delaying the advance for days at terrible cost to themselves, so that possibly the German hosts might find their long arranged plan for taking Paris nipped in the bud.
The boys also learned of other great events, beginning with the news that Great Britain was now at war with the Teuton allies, together with word of a Russian advance into East Prussia.
All these things interested them intensely. Being right there on the ground, and having lately actually been in the whirlpool of the war, they could understand and appreciate the tremendous nature of the world-wide struggle much better than any of their friends, who were separated from the theatre of conflict by thousands of miles and could read of battles without a thrill.
The voyage was resumed after a time spent in the Bulgarian city, and presently they found themselves headed almost due north, such are the vagaries of the wonderful blue Danube in its long journey from the northern border of Switzerland all the way to the Black Sea.
They were now in Rumania proper, and four days later arrived at the important city of Galatz. Here they expected to say good-by to the motorboat that had served them so well on their long and eventful trip. Arrangements had been made for turning the same over to a certain dealer, who was instructed to repay Jack the amount of security the boys had been compelled to put up against possible loss of the chartered craft.
Two days later they took passage on a small steamer that was bound for Constantinople. They made the passage of the lower Danube by daylight, so it was possible for them to see every phase of the wonderful river before it was wedded to the famous Black Sea.
It took them the better part of a week to reach their port, for the steamer was what might be called a coasting trader, stopping at numerous towns on the Bulgarian and Rumanian shores for half a day at a time.
Nevertheless the boys enjoyed it immensely, though one night a little storm did come along and give Buster quite a scare. Fortunately, it died down before any damage had been done, though showing them how savage a sea could arise in short order in this inland body of water.
Finally they reached the entrance to the Bosphorus, and found themselves passing along a narrow stretch of water that filled them with delight. It was bordered with green groves, white buildings of rich Turks, occasional fortresses, and in places arose the domes of magnificent mosques, with their accompanying minarets, where at certain hours the meuzzen’s loud call to prayer could be heard, summoning the faithful Mahometans to worship.
Then came Constantinople, where they meant to spend several days before starting for London via Italy.
Here they had the time of their lives, prying into all sorts of strange places, and seeing just how the red-fezzed Turks lived. All of them enjoyed it to the full, and no doubt laid up a treasure of recollections that would haunt them the balance of their lives.
Buster was wild to see the inside of a mosque the first thing, and managed to accomplish it with his mates, though all of them had to remove their shoes and put on ridiculous red slippers without heels, for the sacred interior of the temple would be profaned if shoes were worn.
Josh had gotten it in his head that he would love to see what a harem looked like, and came near getting into serious difficulty in pursuing this fad; but he never reached his goal, and had to give it up.
All the same, the boys looked upon a myriad of strange sights, such as they had read about in books like the Arabian Nights, but never really expected to see with their own eyes.
Jack noticed that there were a great many Germans in Constantinople, and he expressed the opinion that sooner or later he believed Turkey would align herself with the Teuton powers against her old-time friends and backers, Great Britain and France. His prediction was later on fulfilled, as events proved, and eventually Turkey took the mad plunge into war at the behest of her master, Germany, to submit her last slender grip on European territory to the test of the sword.
Here in the wonderful city on the Golden Horn we will say good-by to the four Motorboat Boys. They fully expected to start for Italy in two days, and were now only filling in the time waiting for a certain steamship to arrive that would convey them through the Sea of Marmora, along the historical Dardanelles into the Ægean Sea, and finally to Naples, where they could at their pleasure sail for London and home.
No doubt our adventurous young friends, whose fortunes we have followed with so much pleasure in this and previous volumes, are bound to meet with further stirring experiences, which in due time we shall hope to lay before the reader. Until that time arrives we shall have to drop the curtain and write the words
THE END.