Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube; or, Four Chums Abroad

“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.

CHAPTER XX

A RESCUE BY THE WAY

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.”

CHAPTER XXI

A HALF-WAY STOP

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.”