CONSTANTINOPLE AT LAST--CONCLUSION
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.
Transcriber’s Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
--Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
--The name of the Irish lad, known alternatively as Jimmy and Andy,
has been retained as in the original.
--The name of the fat lad, known alternatively as Nick/Buster and
Bumpus, has been retained as in the original.
End of Project Gutenberg's Motor Boat Boys Down the Danube, by Louis Arundel