THE SMASHING OF THE PONTOON BRIDGE
“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.