CHAPTER III✦

A SURPRISE AND A REVELATION

Helmar had not proceeded more than fifty yards when his worst fears were realized. He had dodged his way along the tortuous footpath until, nearing an open space, he saw ahead of him his companions surrounded by a small group of dusky, evil-looking men.

"Gipsies!" he exclaimed, and counted six of them, all armed with heavy sticks, and with knives stuck in their belts. Their voices were raised to a high pitch, and, jabbering in infuriated tones, they flourished their weapons in the faces of their two prisoners.

Helmar stood gazing at them for a few seconds. Suddenly he saw one of the men, judging by his size the leader, step up to Mark and make as though to search him. The instant his hand touched him, Mark's fist shot out like lightning, and striking the fellow on the point of the chin, felled him to the ground.

This was the signal for a general melee. George caught a glimpse of steel as the men closed on their victims, then without waiting for anything further, he gave one ringing cheer, and bounding into the open, brandished his club aloft as he dashed into the struggling mob.

The suddenness of his attack for an instant paralyzed the would-be murderers, and ere they had time to recover, he was laying about him with all the power at his command. In a moment two men fell, and as their heavy sticks slipped from their hands, Mark and Charlie seized them and ranged themselves at Helmar's side.

The fight now waxed furious, the odds were heavily against the adventurers, and the issue looked doubtful. The noise had brought another man on the scene, and Helmar saw that to save themselves he must resort to strategy.

Singling out one man, he attacked him with such agility and force that he gradually beat him back from the rest. The new-comer seeing this, went to the fellow's assistance and endeavoured to stab our hero from behind. George, however, was not to be caught napping. Redoubling his exertions and by constantly dodging he kept his adversaries in front of him, until, at last, he succeeded in dealing the man a terrible blow on his shoulder.

Down he went with a crash, and the other, fearing a similar fate, fled precipitately into the bush. Helmar now turned to see how his companions fared.

The odds here were three to two, and his friends were keeping the men at bay. Without a moment's hesitation, George rushed into the fray, and, setting to work with a will, quickly stretched one of the gipsies out, whereupon the others beat a hasty retreat.

"Quick, boys, make for the river before they come on again! They haven't done with us yet! Follow me!" And he led the way into the path by which he had come.

Mark and Charlie needed no second bidding, but followed as swiftly as their legs could carry them. They were not a moment too soon, for as they disappeared into the bush, the brigands, further reinforced, again appeared on the scene.

It now became a question as to whether they could reach the boat in time to get it into the water before the enemy were upon them. Helmar calculated this as he sped along, and quickly realized that the task would be hopeless. Calling to his friends, he told them to run on and launch the boat, and he would join them as soon as it was accomplished.

"But," said Charlie, "you cannot face them single-handed. Let Mark go to the boat, and I will remain with you."

"No, no, run on for your lives and mine. When the boat is launched, keep her a few yards out from the bank and wait for me. Hurry up; here they come."

Thus exhorted, Mark and Osterberg ran on without further demur, and Helmar followed them until he reached the edge of the camping-ground. Here he seized the bough from which he had broken his club, and flung it across the pathway, and stood waiting the approach of the brigands.

In a moment the leader came up, and, seeing the resolute Helmar awaiting him on the other side of the barrier, he paused. It was only momentary, however, and as the rest of the gipsies joined him, the whole party, now six in number, rushed at the solitary defender.

In that momentary pause, however, Helmar had heard the crunching sound of the boat sliding into the water, followed by the welcome shout of "all right" from his friends. He intended to hold the men at bay for just a few moments longer, so as to give his companions time to get well into the stream. The charge of the gipsies in a body was evidently intended to overwhelm him by numbers. As the leader made an attempt to get over the bough, Helmar swung his heavy club at him, and the fellow fell back. Then, seeing another clear his obstruction to his right, and not having time to defend himself from his attack, he flung his trusty weapon at him and, turning, ran towards the river. Without pausing to see if he was pursued, he plunged headlong into the river, and struck out from the shore.

Everything had worked beautifully. As he came to the surface and looked round, he saw the boat at a safe distance from the shore, and he swam quickly towards it. Reaching it his companions quickly hauled him aboard, and, looking towards the bank, he saw the brigands standing at the water's edge wildly gesticulating and shouting execrations at the top of their voices.

"They seem pretty wild," ventured Osterberg, as the boat quickly widened the distance from the shore, "you just came in the nick of time, George; I believe they intended killing us."

"Yes, you fellows should have waited, instead of rushing off as you did to see who they were. Confound it, I've lost my coat, to say nothing of cooking utensils; however, it's all over now. We've had a lucky escape; I hope it'll be a lesson."

They quickly set sail, and decided to keep on their way all that night rather than risk such another encounter. Mark said little about it, except to bemoan the fact that they would in future have to sleep in the boat, a proceeding which had become particularly distasteful to him.

After this the journey went on without incident. They passed the cataracts in safety and on to Belgrade, at which point they encountered a series of rapids. The river here was shut in by lofty hills on either side, and was strewn with rocky shoals of limestone, crystalline, and granite, so that the greatest care had to be observed in navigating them. After many anxious hours, the last of these was passed and they began to near their journey's end.

Altogether they had been a month in their little craft, and the monotony of it all, in spite of the beautiful scenery and picturesque country through which they passed, was beginning to tell on the voyagers. They were becoming irritable and pettish. Mark Arden had on several occasions made himself particularly disagreeable--airing his views as to the wanton waste of time which their journey had been, in no very measured terms.

"What did you expect?" asked George, on one of these occasions. "Did you think we were going for a picnic? Or did you think some one would pull us along? It's no use complaining now. Look at it in a philosophical light. See what a splendid experience it is for us! It will harden us for what may be in front of us."

"But it's such a dreary journey, no change, no variety, no amusement," grumbled Mark.

"I'll admit it's a bit of a grind," chimed in Charlie. "But what change and variety is got out of it falls to you. You have your own way about provisions, and what is more, you always have the pleasant journey into the villages to obtain them. Besides which, you frequently have the distinction of entertaining the company," he went on, in a jocular way. "For instance, I think it was as good as a play to see you yesterday with your rod, trying to catch our breakfast. If I hadn't been on the look-out, you'd have had George by the eye instead of the fish by the gills."

"You shall try your hand at it to-morrow, and we'll see what a figure you'll cut," he said almost irritably.

George got a little annoyed at this, and did not hesitate to show it.

"I'm sure," he said, "we've given you all the best of it. The whole fact of the matter is, you are discontented already and ought to be back at the University, where you can get everything done for you. I'll tell you what it is, if you are going to make any more fuss, you'd better leave us and go back. I'm sick of it."

"You needn't get in a huff," Mark replied, half apologetically; "a fellow couldn't help feeling the dreariness of this journey. There's nothing but this constant sitting in a boat and drifting down the river."

"Well, what more do you want?" said Charlie. "I'm sure I don't mind. This is a sort of paradise to what we shall probably have to go through."

"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Helmar suddenly; "we are all a bit tired of the river. The next decent town we come to we'll get out and take the train on to Varna. How'll that do?"

His proposal was met with delight by both of his companions, and the surly Mark even cheered up. The thought of getting away from the boat overjoyed him, and he grumbled no more.

Their journey, however, was to end sooner than they expected. They were fast nearing a big town when the wind, which was blowing very hard, suddenly changed its direction. As they rounded a bend in the river, it came down with a rush, and before they could throw their sail over to the other tack the boat capsized, and all three were struggling in the water.