“I have, all about the last war between the Balkan States,” Josh admitted. “And let me tell you right here, if the Austrians and the Germans ever try to invade that little country of born fighters they’ll find they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. The Serbians know every foot of ground, and can lay in ambush on the heights, dropping rocks down on the enemy, and using all sorts of quick-firing guns to cut them down in windrows.”
“If only all these Balkan countries were agreed on a single policy,” said Jack, “they could snap their fingers at the Teuton alliance, for no force could ever be brought to bear against them that would smash their defenses. But petty jealousies keep them apart, and may be their undoing in the end.”
The sun vanished about this time, the clouds having risen far enough to cover his blazing face.
“That feels a heap better,” announced the panting Buster; “and it looks like we mightn’t glimpse old Sol again to-day. For one I’m glad. Sunshine is all very well in winter time, but when it’s hot summer I prefer the shade.”
The others laughed at his odd way of putting it, for Buster often expressed himself in a peculiar fashion. Josh said he “mixed his metaphors,” though Buster was never able to get him to explain what he meant by saying that.
Just then something came stealing to their ears that caused the boys to exchange meaning glances. It was a distant grumbling that died away almost as soon as it reached them, a sort of complaining, reverberating boom that brought a thrill with it.
[CHAPTER XV]
THE BOOMING OF BIG GUNS
“Another storm coming, worse luck!” grumbled George.