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

“I’ve understood that Austria had a number of these river gunboats down here, and I think they all mount pretty big guns, as well as being armored,” Jack went on to say.

“But what use would they be?” queried George.

“Well, you must know that this eternal Balkan question is forever bobbing up, and within a few years there have been two serious clashes south of Austria. The first was between Bulgaria, Serbia and Greece against Turkey. They knocked the Sultan’s forces out and took a lot of territory away, which they divided. Then Bulgaria got a notion she could lick the other two and seize more territory; but the shoe was on the other foot, because she had to cry for quarter, and lost a good portion of land that had come to her from Turkey. Ever since there has been bad blood between them all, Rumania also.”

“But how does Austria come in with their petty quarrels?” continued George.

“Do you remember the old fable of the lion and the bear fighting over the game they had taken until they were exhausted, and then the sly fox walking off with it? Well, Austria got hold of a monstrous slice of territory in something the same way – Bosnia and Herzegovina. And there’s a big scheme afoot, I believe, for the Teuton allies to take Serbia and unite the German-speaking countries with Turkey.”

“Oh, I remember reading that Germany had eyes for Persia and all that rich Eastern country,” admitted Josh.

“Well, they are figuring on great things out that way,” Jack continued. “As for these river monitors, they are here to threaten little Serbia with. You see, it’s unfortunate that the capital, Belgrade, lies just across from Austrian heights, and always in reach of hostile batteries.”

“Shucks! that was foolish of the Serbians,” said Josh disdainfully, after the manner of one who knew it all. “Long ago they should have moved their capital to Nisch, nearer the middle of the state. Then they could defend it a heap better.”

As they approached closer to the singular craft anchored there near the shore of the river the boys eyed it curiously. They could see many men aboard, doubtless the crew. There was also an officer using a pair of binoculars, for they could catch the gleam of the sunlight on the glasses as he moved his hands.

Without the slightest warning, when they were almost opposite the anchored monitor, there came a puff of smoke and a reverberating boom. The boys saw the water splash high in the air about twenty feet in front of their little boat, showing that it had not been blank shot after all.

Buster was at once in a panic. He really believed that in another moment they might be the target for one of those big guns that could be seen projecting from the movable turret aboard the monitor, and at that close range the result must be the total annihilation of boat and passengers.

CHAPTER XII

NEARING THE SCENE OF WAR

“Pull up, Jack; that’s a plain invitation to hold our horses!” shrilled Josh, being the first one to find his voice.

Jack already knew this. He shut off power and then started to reverse, for the impetus of the craft, not to mention the swift current, was carrying the boat forward at a good pace, and any sign of disobeying that naval summons might cost them dear.

“There, he’s beckoning to us to run over alongside,” said Josh. “Mebbe we’ll be given a chance now to see what one of these same river monitors look like.”

“Huh! like as not we’ll be given a chance to see what a musty old dungeon under some Austrian fortress looks like!”

Of course, it was George who made this last gloomy prediction; but then the others were so accustomed to his ways that no one paid the least attention to him.

Jack was already heading the boat toward the anchored vessel. All of them had a very good chance to observe what a monitor looked like as they approached, and if they failed to accept their opportunity, that was their fault.

Coming up from below, they bumped against the armored side of the bulky war vessel. Buster looked with something of awe at the gaping guns of large caliber that projected from the turret close by.

When Josh, coached by Jack, had tossed a rope to some of the waiting crew of the monitor, they prepared to go aboard. Jack might have limited the number to himself and perhaps Josh, but then he knew the others would always be sorry they had not been given the privilege of saying they had once been aboard a fighting warship while war was on; so he allowed both George and Buster to trip after.

It could be seen that the officer was plainly surprised when he saw them at close quarters. Instead of the local boys whom he might have expected to meet, he now realized that the tiny flag floating from the stern of the motorboat stood for something.

“Who are you, and where do you come from?” he asked in excellent English, doubtless realizing that it was useless to ply them with Magyar.

“We are American boys, sir, as you can see from our flag,” Jack told him. “It is the only one we happen to have along with us.”

He thought that the captain looked very much interested, and that his manner became immediately a shade more cordial, which proved that he knew considerable about the country across the ocean.

“But this is a strange place for four American boys to be taking a cruise, you must admit,” he told Jack.

That gave the boy a chance to begin explanations. He went over the same ground as before and told how as members of a motorboat club they had planned to voyage down the Danube, and only learned of war breaking out when on the way.

When he mentioned the matter of passports the officer indicated that he should like to see them, at which once more Jack called upon his chums to produce their papers.

“You will find them all correct, sir,” he assured the other; “and besides, here are some letters from home which we received from our folks. They reached us in Budapest, you can see. I would like you to glance over them so that you may know we are just what we claim to be.”

The officer seemed to be pretty well satisfied after he had examined the passports. At the same time he looked at the boys in an amused fashion.

“Which one of you is George Rollins?” he asked, somewhat to the astonishment of that worthy, who did not know what might be in store for him, honors or captivity.

“That’s my name, sir,” he spoke up, and, to the further surprise of the boys, the Austrian commander thrust out his hand.

“I want to shake hands with you, George,” he said.

“Y-yes, sir,” replied the other, still groping in the dark, and fearing that he might be perilously near the edge of a precipice.

“You wonder why I single you out from your companions,” continued the other, as George accepted his hand and received a cordial squeeze in return. “I’ll have to explain, I suppose. Did you ever hear your mother speak of a cousin who had married an Austrian gentleman many years ago?”

Then George found his tongue.

“Oh, yes, I certainly have heard her speak of her cousin Lucy, and the name of the gentleman she married was – let me see, Stanislaus!”

As George burst out triumphantly with this declaration he found his hand once more shaken and squeezed, while the commander of the monitor beamed upon him.

“Well, I am Captain Stanislaus, and my mother was that same Cousin Lucy you have heard about. So you see, my boy, we are kin. I am very glad to meet you, even under such singular conditions.”

George turned toward his companions. His face was one broad smile. He doubtless had a pretty good sense of his own importance just then.

“I want to introduce my three chums to you, Cousin Stanislaus,” he went on to say with an air of importance. “The one you have been talking with is Jack Stormways, our leader; the stout one is Buster Longfellow, and the other is Josh Purdue, all of them the finest fellows under the sun, and my pards.”

The officer gravely shook hands with each of the boys in turn. He seemed to be duly impressed with the recommendation given by his newly discovered relative.

“See, here is a letter from my mother, sir,” continued George impulsively and with a deep motive back of his actions. “Her name is Alice, and she is first cousin to your mother. How pleased she will be to learn that I ran across you in this remarkable way! And because we are related, as it seems, I hope you will allow us to continue our voyage down the river, for it would be a great disappointment all around if we had to give it up now.”

Jack felt like clapping George on the back when he heard that naive appeal. Evidently George believed in making use of his relatives. What was the use of blood ties if favors could not be obtained through them?

All of them waited anxiously to see what the commander of the monitor might say. Ties of relationship might be all very well, but there was such a thing as duty to the Government to be considered. Of course, he knew very well that nothing was to be feared from these American boys, who would not have any reason for carrying news to the hostile Serbians. Hence it was really only a matter of their taking unnecessary risks in trying to pass the disputed portions of the Danube where opposing batteries might be bombarding each other.

The officer looked from one to another. He saw only appealing glances that undoubtedly must have made him weaken in his first resolve to order the boys back and end their adventurous voyage then and there.

“We are accustomed to looking out for ourselves, believe me, sir,” Jack thought fit to say just then, hoping to be able to influence the commander, who seemed to be what Josh would call “on the fence.”

“All we expect to do,” George went on to say, “is to slip past some night when it happens to be cloudy, and, once by the Iron Gate, the way is clear for us on to the mouth of the Danube. We have spent a heap of money to have this trip, and it would break us all up if we had to quit.”

The officer laughed at that.

“Well,” he went on to say, “I suppose, after all, it is none of my business, and I could allow you to proceed without any risk that you would carry important news of troop movements to the enemy beyond the Danube. It is with regard to your mother, George, I am thinking most of all.”