The new slaughter-house was a fine erection.  The walls were almost finished and the roof was being assembled.  One of the Austrian prisoners had discovered a talent for stone carving, and Miss Dickenson was designing a frieze for the door and on each side.  There was a fine ceremony—­while we had been away—­at the foundation, and Mr. Berry made a speech in Serbian.  The disinfector had also arrived and was soon got into working order.

The news got better.  The Austrians were now driven out of Belgrade with immense slaughter, the whole line of the Danube and of the Save had been reoccupied by the Serbs.  Blease and Jan wondered if it were necessary to go on with the rope handles.  Our first wounded man arrived in the evening, a non-commissioned officer, with a slightly wounded thumb.  He had arrived by train, asked in the town which was the most comfortable hospital, and had walked up.  We represented that we weren’t looking for thumbs, but had to put him up for the night; this meant the whole business of washing, shaving, and disinfecting his clothes.

We heard that the French and English had arrived in Nish, 70,000 men, and that they had been greeted with the wildest enthusiasm; but against that was set the fact that Belgrade after all was not quite clear of Austrians, in fact, they still held half the town, but that the “Swobs” were not getting on at Chabatz.  “Swobs” in Serbian are any of a Germanic country, while in Austria it is a term of opprobrium, meaning “German.”  One of our “Czech” orderlies said to Jo, pathetically—­

“I never thought that I should be called a ‘Swob.’”

Next day came a warning that two hundred wounded, serious cases, were to be expected, so everything and everybody was in a rush.  The bathrooms to be cleaned, disinfecting-room and bags to be got ready, wards cleared as much as was possible.

The wounded did not come, and the next day they did not come.  The chemist said that all the Austrians had been driven back, but that the Bulgars had at last attacked.  Mr. Berry thought the news rather serious, and told us that Gaschitch had said that we must be prepared to move at twenty-four hours’ notice; so back we went to the work on the boxes.  Next day news was brought that the Bulgars had drawn back, and had said that the Serbs had attacked them first, that the Powers had declared war on Bulgaria, and that the Russians had bombarded Varna.

At last we got news that the wounded were really coming.  We hurried into our disinfecting garments—­looking like pantaloons,—­and scissors were served out to all the assistants.  It was dark before the first motor load came.