In the night the two German aeroplanists were buried without military honours.  The Serbs said that they were assassins and deserved nothing.  Still, Kragujevatz is an arsenal.

October 6th.  Another aeroplane scare; town emptied itself once more.  Dr. MacLaren and I rushed off to the anti-aircraft guns, hoping to get some photos; but nothing occurred.  Got the Rudnik car running by taking Mr. McBlack’s useless car to pieces.  In the evening two sisters went to Uskub.  One of the sisters went to get her bag, and I took what I thought to be a short cut to help her.  I passed between the tents, and was striding along, when—­Plop!  I found myself swimming in a deep tank of water.  The sister heard me fall, and ran back to the camp crying out—­

“Help, help!  The stranger is drowning in the bath-water sewage tank.”

I clambered out, and hastily fled to my tent, where kindly souls brought me an indiarubber bath and hot water.  I also got some refugee pyjamas, in which I wandered about for the rest of the evening.  My clothes were taken to the kitchen and hung over the big stove.

October 7th.  Went to the arsenal in borrowed refugee clothes miles too large.  Worried the car till it worked.  At lunch clothes dry.  Got away by three, Hardinge coming with us.  Night came on before we got home.  Our car is a beastly nuisance in the dark, the lamps, electric and worked from the magneto, only giving light when going at full speed, which is impossible on these roads.  I was just boasting to Harding that I had never run into anything except the owl, when I hit a cow.  Figures appeared cursing from the darkness; we cursed back for allowing the animal to stray; other figures appeared cursing on our side.  The motor was pushed back, the cow got up and walked off, and on we went.  Found Jo on night shift.  Got some supper, fixed up a bed for Hardinge, and so self to bed.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVI

LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE

Up till now Vrntze was undisturbed by the war; the fine ladies were walking the streets much as usual, and were bringing pressure upon Gaschitch, the commandant, to make us close one of our hospitals, so that it might be reopened as a lodging-house.  The chemist and Jan had an amusing conversation about the uncle of Nicholas I. It seems he was a great poet.

“Sir,” said the chemist, earnestly, “I can assure you that he was one of the greatest poets that ever has lived.  Were Serbian a language as universally spoken as is English, he would stand beside Shakespeare in the world’s estimation, if not before.  The depth of his philosophy, sir, it is astounding and so deep.  There are passages in his poetry which I have studied for weeks on end and never yet been able to understand.”

The true explanation is that the great poet translated an old work of German philosophy into Serbian, and very likely did not understand all the original himself.