Under Fire For Servia

"And there is another point. Austria has been making ready. She can strike quickly. Russia is slow. It will be two months before she makes herself felt, even if she declares war at once. For two months Austria can devote herself almost entirely to us. And the odds in her favor are so great that anything might happen in that time, if we had not prepared for her. As it is, there is almost nothing of Austria's plans and preparations that we do not know."

While Steve talked they were walking through what seemed almost like a tunnel. Now he flashed his light, looked about, and dropped his voice.

"Now we must begin to be careful," he said. "We are getting near the light. This is like a rabbit's warren, but soon we shall be in the open. Sure as we are that the Austrians know nothing of this place, we never take chances."

"We must be a long way from the cellar we first went into," said Dick. "Even if we've circled around, and here where there are no stars, I can't tell about that. We've walked a long distance, I should say."

"You're right," said Steve, with a low and discreet chuckle. "Oh, this is a fine tunnel! Do you know what we did a few minutes ago? We walked right under a police station!"

The tunnel seemed to dip now, and then to rise again. And in a few moments cold air was blowing on their faces; cold, that is, by comparison with the heat of the subterranean workings in which they had been buried. Then they came out, stooping, and passing through a well designed covering of shrubs and bushes, on the sandy beach of the river. Dick gasped a little at that, and at seeing that they had evidently got out of the town altogether. Before him now lay the lights of Belgrade, but he noticed one thing at once. The lights had shrunk; there were fewer than there had been the night before.

Steve had gone ahead now, scouting to see if the coast were clear, but he returned in a moment, jubilant.

"All safe!" he said. "I knew it would be, of course, but there is no need to take chances. Now we're all right so far. But we've got quite a walk before us yet. We'll still be very cautious."

"Which way?" asked Dick.

"West, along the bank of the Save here. Look, do you see that monitor there? If her searchlight swings this way, drop down. She might not pay any attention, but we don't want to be noticed at all, and it's better to be on the safe side."

"Why are there so few lights in Belgrade?" asked Dick. "I know it's late, but other nights, when I've looked over, it was much brighter."

"I'm not sure," said Steve, looking anxious. "You see, it's hours since I've had any news. The war may have come already, Dick. I hope not, because I should feel that we were more sure of getting across before the declaration. Still we have a good chance, even if it has begun."

Three times, as they walked along the river bank, Steve made a long detour inland.

"The Austrians have patrols along the river," he said. "But they don't take that sort of work very seriously. They are trusting the monitors and their searchlights. You see, their lights are swinging pretty steadily, and they cover the whole river and the Servian shore."

"And don't they think that there's likely to be danger on this side?"

"They're right, too, of course. Spies, yes. But we couldn't threaten them very seriously in any way that would make it necessary for them to be very careful here."

"I wish we knew what was going on, don't you? Doesn't it seem funny to be right in the middle of something that's going to make history and to think that people thousands of miles away really know more about it than we do?"

"Yes. But soon we'll know all there is to be known. When we're once over the river, then we can ask questions and get true answers, which is more than people in Semlin have been doing lately. Yes, I'm just as anxious for some news as you are. I rather wish now that I'd gone out while we were waiting for it to be late enough to start. But I suppose it was better that I didn't. You'd have been helpless there if anything had happened to keep me from coming back," remarked Stepan.

"If you'd been caught, you mean?"

"Ye – es, I suppose that's what I mean. Although really I don't think there was ever any great danger of that. When I got a job from Hallo, it was sure that no one suspected me, because he's so busy with government contracts that he had to be careful. I'm supposed to be a Hungarian, from Buda-Pesth. And it isn't as if I'd been trying to find out things in a general way. All I had to do was to pick up the information that it was so easy to get in Hallo's place. There were all sorts of things to be learned there, and a lot was made easy for me because Hallo and others didn't think, I suppose, that I would know what certain papers and estimates meant."

"How did you know enough to be able to do all that sort of thing, Steve?"

"Well, there were a lot of things I didn't understand, myself. But I didn't have to. I just copied down everything I saw that seemed to have anything to do with military matters in any way, and sent everything I got to the general staff at home. They knew the meaning of everything, you see. It wasn't any one thing, perhaps; it was what I and a lot of others who were at work over here were able to report that counted. They could put one thing with another, and, altogether, it was worth something. I don't know how much. But I do know, for instance, that Hallo has sent supplies of various sorts to particular places. There's a regular arsenal on the Austrian side, near Schabatz, and there are big depots of supplies at a lot of places along the Drina."

"Oh, I understand better now. Hallo is supplying food and things that the soldiers will need?"

"Food, and shoes, mostly. He's the biggest contractor for those, but he is handling about everything. Medical supplies, uniforms, horseshoes, saddles, and a tremendous lot of petrol – gasoline. And he's making a big profit, too. He's one of several big army contractors who have been eager for this war, and have had a lot to do with bringing it on, because they hoped to grow richer out of their contracts. War meant big profits."

"Men like that ought to have to do some of the fighting themselves, I think! But they never do. They stay behind, and let others do the work. I've heard about that sort of thing at home in America. And some of them didn't even behave honestly. They sold bad beef for the soldiers, and rotten leather, and shoddy cloth for uniforms."

Steve chuckled.

"I'll tell you something about Hallo," he said. "But remember not to tell anyone else, even if you get a chance, until the time comes. He's doing something like that, too. He thinks he's been very clever, and that there's no chance for anyone to find him out. But I've got the proof, and perhaps there'll be a chance for you to use what I know to make him do what's right for your mother, Dick. As it is, you see, I wouldn't give him away, because it's good for us to have the Austrians badly equipped. Hello, we're getting near our ferry! Do you see that blasted tree there – the one that was struck by lightning?"

"Yes," said Dick, peering through the darkness.

"Well, just below that there ought to be a boat and a man with it. We'll soon know if we can row or if we'll have to swim for it. It's a long swim, and I'm not anxious to go that way."

But the boat was there, and beside it a Servian who greeted Steve happily, and looked at Dick appraisingly.

"He is with me," said Steve. "Jump in, Dick! Hurry, Mischa!"

In a moment they were out in the stream. And then things began to happen. There was a sputtering of fire from the bank they had left, and Mischa, the ferryman, staggered and collapsed. A bullet had reached him! The oars fell into the water, and they were adrift.

CHAPTER VI

ACROSS THE SAVE

The fact that they lost their oars was what saved them. For now, its attention evidently attracted by the sudden outburst of firing, the nearest monitor sent its searchlight flashing down upon them, and the little boat, with its helpless burden, was plainly visible from the shore. With a quick and ready wit, the two scouts leaped to their feet, at the risk of upsetting the boat, and waved their hands, in token of their helplessness. They were seen at once, and there was a sharp cry from the shore, and an order to cease firing.

"We're in luck," said Steve, quietly, as he sat down again in the boat. "That's an Austrian officer. If he had been Hungarian, he wouldn't have stopped firing just because he saw we were helpless. But he must have come lately from Vienna. He hasn't had time to get the border hatred of us into his system yet."

Dick already knew that there was particularly bad and bitter blood between Servians and Hungarians, but he made no comment. By this time he was heart and soul with Servia in the war that must have begun, but this was partly because of his swiftly formed friendship for Steve Dushan, and partly because Servia seemed to be the under dog. Yet he knew that there were probably two sides to the question, and even the way Mike Hallo had behaved had not filled him with a prejudice against the whole Hungarian nation.

Now that the immediate danger was over, there was time for them to look to the wounded ferryman. Dick thought he was dead. He had never seen a man shot before, but when he turned the man's body over, Steve laughed, not callously, but happily.

"Good for old Mischa!" he said. "I thought a man who fought at Kumanovo and helped to storm Adrianople after the Bulgarians yelled for help wouldn't go out so easily! See? It's only a scratch! The bullet grazed his head. Dip your handkerchief in the water, and we'll have him all right in no time."

The cold water, as a matter of fact, did revive Mischa almost at once, and he sat up, rueful at the loss of his oars. When he was told that a bullet had grazed his scalp and stunned him, he actually grinned.

"So that is what it feels like to be shot!" he said. "Good! Now I shan't be afraid the next time there is going to be a battle, as I was at Kumanovo. What next?"

"I think everyone is wondering about that," said Dick, with a grin. "They don't seem to want to come out after us, and we certainly can't row ashore without oars, even if we wanted to. And I suppose if she's cleared for action, that monitor isn't carrying so many boats that she'll want to send one for us."

"I wish her searchlight would break down!" said Steve, venomously. "Then our fellows on the other side might help us. Mischa, I've got to get over if we can do it. It's very important for me to report what I discovered during the day. Has war been declared yet?"

"It has not been formally declared," said Mischa. "But the King and all the government have gone all the way back to Nish, and most of the troops have marched away to the west, toward Schabatz and Losnitza. There is only a small garrison left in Belgrade."

"To Nish, eh?" said Steve, frowning a little. "That was not the plan of which I heard. The withdrawal was to be only to Kragujevac. They must mean to draw the Austrians on. But I am sorry. I hoped for an invasion."

Suddenly to the east there was a dull roar. The three in the boat stared at one another, and at the same moment there came a wild outburst of cheering from the soldiers on the Austrian bank of the river.

"What is that?" asked Dick. As he spoke the sound was repeated.

"Cannon," said Mischa.

"Yes, cannon!" repeated Steve, his face lighted up. "The first gun of the war! Who knows how many echoes that shot will have? They said that in your country a shot was fired once that was heard around the world. I believe that this is just such a shot, Dick!"

"Where is the firing?"

"It must be from one of the Austrian batteries near Semlin. They are bombarding the city of Belgrade, I suppose."

And then there was a deafening roar, a sound far greater than the firing of even the heaviest guns of modern warfare would make, and to the east, toward the Danube, there was a great flash of fire. Instantly the searchlight swung away from them and pointed in the opposite direction, and as the beams of light were concentrated on the spot where the flash had been, the three observers in the boat saw a strange and wonderful sight. The lights played full on the great steel railway bridge across the Save, and in their white glare they could see the beams collapsing, the piers melting away, while the whole central span of the bridge collapsed in utter ruin, leaving a gap where the river now flowed unbridged.

"Yes, the war has come!" said Steve impressively. "That was to be our first act – the destruction of the bridge. They will not send their troops into Servia so easily as that!"

"P – ss – t!"

A sharp hiss came to their ears, seemingly from the water. And not only seemingly. Looking down, they saw the upturned face of a swimmer. Mischa hailed him joyfully.

"Peter!" he said.

"Take this rope. We saw what had happened," said the swimmer, "and so I swam out, and waited until their accursed searchlight was not playing on you. We will draw you ashore. If they fire, lie low in the boat, and they will never hit you. But you are safe now unless the searchlight comes back again. They can never see you in this darkness."

"Good man, Peter!" said Steve, his voice hushed. "Swim back, now. We have the rope. It is better for you not to come into the boat now."

Peter did not answer, but turned at once and began cutting the water with long, powerful strokes. Nevertheless, though he made good progress, he disturbed the water very little, and he had not gone more than a few yards before it was almost impossible for even those in the boat to see him. Only a faint rippling of the water behind him marked his trail.

"That was good work," said Dick, admiringly. "We'll get ashore safely yet, Steve! And a minute ago it certainly didn't seem possible."

There was a tug at the rope a moment later. The searchlights were still turned downstream, and now there was a brisk cannonading from the Semlin batteries. There had been no more explosions. It was plain, as, indeed, they had already been able to see, that the Servian sappers who had mined the railway bridge had done their work well.

"Down in the boat now!" said Dushan. "They are drawing on the rope, and they'll begin pulling us along in a moment. I'm going to try to keep her as she is, but it may be hard if they pull too fast. If they will keep their searchlight away for just five minutes, we shall be all right."

"You'd better make that rope fast to something in the boat instead of just holding on to it," said Dick. "If you don't, you might lose your hold. Remember how Mischa lost his oars."

"That's a good idea, Dick. I didn't think of it. Here, it's looped around one of the thwarts now. That ought to hold it all right, if they do hit me."

Then they all dropped, and in a moment the boat was being drawn along swiftly through the water. It proved impossible to keep her bow on to the Servian shore, but there seemed no reason to fear anything from the Austrians behind them. Yet suddenly a bullet whistled over their heads, following the crack of a rifle.

"Never mind that!" said Dick. "They just want us to know that they're still thinking about us, that's all!"

But the shot had another motive, as they soon guessed. It had been fired in an interval of silence, when there was no firing from the batteries at Semlin – to which, incidentally, the Servians had as yet made no reply from Belgrade – and it was soon apparent that it had been fired to attract the attention of the monitor. In a moment the searchlight came winking back, and instinctively, as the great beam of light swept over them, all crouched lower still in the bottom of the boat. There were quick wits on the Servian side, for the dragging of the rope stopped at once, and their motion with it.

For a moment nothing happened.

"Perhaps they won't notice that we've moved," said Steve, hopefully.

But that was a vain hope. More faintly now, they could hear shouting from the Austrian bank, and then Dick understood as a volley rang out and a hail of bullets swept over them and pattered into the water near by.

"They saw that we had disappeared. That's enough to make them suspicious!" he cried. "Shake that rope! Maybe they'll understand that we want them to pull again."

But that was unnecessary. The pull on the rope had been resumed, and they were moving fast again.

Once more the Austrian rifles spoke, and this time half a dozen bullets pattered against the side of the boat. Some came through, but she was stoutly built, and these had lost most of their force. But the searchlight followed them, and now there was a loud roar near by. This was followed in a moment by a dull explosion that seemed to be within a few feet of them. The boat rocked violently and a shower of spray descended, wetting them all.

"Stay down!" cried Steve. "That's a shell from the monitor!"

"Gee! They're anxious enough to get us, aren't they?" exclaimed Dick. "That was a close call, Steve! But I'll bet it was just a lucky shot! We're too small a target, and we're moving pretty fast! I don't believe they will really hit us."

"Too close to be comfortable," agreed Steve. "It feels funny, doesn't it, being under fire? I never was before."

"And I don't care if I never am again," rejoined Dick. "I'm frightened, and I don't care who knows it!"

"So am I!" admitted Steve, a little tremulously. "And I hoped I wouldn't be! I wanted to be a soldier, but a coward can't be a soldier."

Before Dick, who didn't think that it was cowardly to be afraid, could answer, another shell plumped into the water beyond them, and again showered them with spray, while it set the boat to rocking. But in a way even this danger was a source of safety, for the upheaval of the water had spoiled the aim of the rifleman each time, and though they dared not rise to look, they felt that they must be very near the Servian shore by this time. And then big Mischa laughed aloud.

"You need not be afraid, Stepan Ivanovitch," he said. "You need not be afraid that you are a coward, I mean. I am afraid at first every time I am under fire, and so are most soldiers. Ask your father, now that you have been under fire yourself. It soon wears off, that fear. But the bravest men need not be ashamed to admit they are afraid when the first bullets sing in their ears, or when they hear the shells burst near them!"

Twice more, in a few moments, shells dropped in the water near them. But either luck was with them, or the monitor's target practice was poor, for neither damaged the boat. And now they could hear the encouraging shouts of the Servians from the shore. Then there came an explosion louder than any of the rest, and the boat seemed to go to pieces under them. The water rushed in. Luckily, no one of them was hurt, but all were thrown into the water. They began to swim lustily, striking out blindly for the shore, until Mischa raised his voice in a great laugh, and seized one of them in each arm.

"Here, I'll carry you ashore!" he cried.

They were safe!

CHAPTER VII

THE WOUNDED CAPTAIN

Safe, but only for the moment. The searchlight had been following them, and now it played on them and the Servians, a little party of five or six men, who had dragged them thus to safety.

"Look out! Scatter!" cried one of these, the only one who was in uniform. "They'll try another shell, just to get even, now that you've got away from them."

They scattered at once, flinging themselves to the ground after running a few paces. And, sure enough, a shell struck close to the brink of the water, half burying itself in the sand before it exploded and sent sand and dirt flying all over them. The fire of the riflemen carried across the river, too, from the other bank, but the bullets had little force left after carrying so far.

Dick, lying face down, his back to the river, and within a few paces of Steve, lifted his head a little, and looked about him. He saw that a little way back from the water's edge the ground began to rise quite sharply, culminating in what was almost a bluff, but was still easily to be climbed. And where the ground began to rise, there was a sturdy growth of bushes and young trees, too, that would afford good shelter. If they could only get so far! It was easy to see. The searchlight from the monitor was playing all over and around them, making the scene weird in the extreme but serving them, in a way, by making their path as clear as it would have been in broad daylight.

Then the searchlight winked out and swung away for a moment. In that instant the man who had given the first order rose and began running toward the shrubbery.

"Come on!" he cried, turning and stopping, while he waved his hands. "The light will be back in a moment!"

They obeyed willingly, and swept up the slope in a wild rush. The searchlight swung back again, and now a shell burst high in the air above them. In a moment there was a curious tearing sound, and then a pitapat on the ground about them. Dick guessed it was shrapnel, though he had, of course, never been under shrapnel fire before. That was not from the monitor, he knew. It meant that the Austrians on the other side must have got a light field piece into action after some delay.

But he was not hit, and in a minute he was at the top of the rise, panting. Steve Dushan came up to him.

"All right, Dick?" he cried. "I didn't have any idea of bringing you into anything as hot as this. You might better have stayed and taken your chance in Semlin! Perhaps your consul could have helped you."

"I don't care! We're all right now," said Dick. He laughed nervously. "I'm not sorry a bit!" he declared. "It's the most exciting thing that ever happened to me! Now that it's all over I – yes, I believe I have enjoyed it!"

"So have I! I mean it, too, Dick! I'm not saying that just to make myself think I'm brave, because I was awfully frightened all the time. But now that it's over, it's something to look back at, isn't it? It isn't everyone who's under fire, after all."

Then they heard Mischa calling.

"Captain!" he cried. "Captain Obrenovitch!"

There was no answer. And suddenly Dick knew that there would be none. His mind recalled something that he had only half grasped as he ran up the hill, with the patter of the bursting shrapnel, with its load of slugs and bullets, nails and pieces of iron, all about him. He had seen a man stumble, the one man in uniform.

"Is Captain Obrenovitch the one who was in uniform?" he asked.

"Yes, Dick. Why? Was he hit? Did you see him go down?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. Here, I'm going to find out!"

Before Steve realized what he was doing, Dick had turned and plunged back in the direction from which he had just come.

"Dick!" cried Stepan. "Where are you going? What are you doing?"

"I'm going after him!" Dick shouted back.

"Wait! That's madness! Let me go with you!"

But if he heard, Dick made no answer. He did hear, but he paid no attention, and scarcely understood the words. All that Dick knew was that he had run away from a man who had been wounded because he had braved death to save his, Dick's, life. He had seen him fall, as he understood now, and he had not stopped to see if he could help! Dick felt a surge of shame. He felt as if he could never respect himself again unless he tried to make atonement now for having run on! It was fantastic, quixotic, absurd perhaps, but it was Dick Warner's way, as anyone who had known him at home in New York would have realized at once!

"I saw him fall. I know just where he is," Dick told himself again and again, as he ran on, stumbling over roots, tripping repeatedly in his hasty descent of the slope that had seemed so hard to climb a few moments before. "It's up to me to find him and make up to him for sticking to that rope!"

That was Dick's thought. He owed his life to this man Obrenovitch, whose very face he would not know if he saw him now. And that life, he felt, would be of no use to him if he kept it at the expense of leaving his debt of gratitude to Obrenovitch unpaid.

The Servian captain had fallen out in the open, and Dick came to him at last. The searchlight was still playing. It lit up the body for a moment, and then winked away again. But Dick had his own pocket flashlight out in a second, and in its light he saw that the captain, if he was not dead, was in a bad way. Like all scouts, Dick knew something of the first aid, and a very hasty glance showed him just what had happened. Obrenovitch lay straight out, and the blood was gushing out from his leg above the knee. One of the great arteries had been cut. In a few minutes he would bleed to death if help did not come to him.