They landed, dashing through the shallow
puddles and flinging the water in great showers on every side. As each
landed it wheeled into line and was pegged down. Behind them was a line
of cannons, the Serbian engineers were hard at work, smashing off their
sighting apparatus, destroying the breech blocks, and jagging the lining
with cold chisels. Some of the cannon were Turkish. All the morning,
through the noise of the town, the shouting of the bullock drivers, the
pant of the motor cars, and the steady tap, tap of the engineers'
mallets, came the faint booming of the battle at Mladnovatch, not
fifteen miles away.
After lunch we went again to the cafe. Again it was full, and we were
forced to wait for a table. Just as we sat down a woman with a drawn,
anxious face came up to us, clutched Jo by the arm and said eagerly--
"Is it true that you are going to Montenegro?"
"Yes," answered Jo. "If we can get there."
"Could you give me only a little advice, madame? You see we do not know
what to do.
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