Chapter X: Part 10

Kobo might still advise, but evidently the whole weight of the active defence was now to fall on Bob. He went out to take stock of the situation. He found that twelve of his men had been killed outright, and twice as many wounded. Doubtless the Manchus had suffered far more heavily, but their losses were unimportant, so greatly did they outnumber the garrison. Another assault, pressed with anything like the determination of the last, must drive the defenders from the wall into the temple and the dwelling-houses, all flimsy wooden buildings useless as fortresses against a greatly superior enemy. Yet Bob felt sure that another attack would be made. Chang-Wo could not afford to wait. The Japanese advanced-guard must be drawing ever nearer, and might come up at any moment. The assault might not be made during the night--the Manchus had painful experience of the perils of darkness--but it must certainly be expected at dawn. With scarcely more than half his force left, Bob felt that the wall must be abandoned. Was it possible in morning light to do anything that would materially strengthen his position?

Perplexed and almost despondent, he went back to the abbot's house to consult Kobo. As he entered, it happened that the light from a small oil-lamp was reflected in his face from the polished brass of the gramophone. With its wide bell-shaped mouth projecting upwards it bore a certain resemblance to a mortar. Bob was not surprised that the abbot had mistaken it for a piece of ordnance, and he caught himself idly wishing that it were indeed a heavy gun of some kind. Kobo saw his look, and with a smile gave voice to Bob's unuttered thought.

"Unfortunately, it only discharges words," he said.

Bob stood stock-still. An idea had struck him--an idea that, even as his intelligence seized on it, amused him by its whimsicality. Why not? Before now, in the history of the world, a speech had proved more effective than the heaviest artillery. Kobo and the ladies watched with curiosity the changing expressions on his face.

"Where is the abbot?" he cried.

"My lun chop-chop find he," said Ah-Sam. It was some time before he returned; he had found the venerable man prostrate before the high altar in the temple, intoning with constant genuflection a formula of which even he had no notion of the meaning--the mystic words Na-mu-Ami Tabul, handed down through generations from the time when Buddhism was a spiritual power. Ah-Sam had not dared to interrupt; he knew that the abbot would not heed an interruption. Only when his prayers were finished did the old man rise and accompany Ah-Sam, and Bob saw that his eyes still bore the rapt, far-away look of devotion. A few questions and answers passed; then Bob sent for Sing-Cheng and several of his men, and asked them whether they had ever seen an instrument like the one before them. They looked solemnly at the gramophone. Not one gave an affirmative answer.

"Do they think Chang-Wo or any of his men has seen such a thing?" he asked.

"He say no ting likum belongey this-side no tim'," interpreted Ah-Sam.

"Ask him whether one of his men has a fine loud voice and can curse well."

"He say one piecee man hab got velly big loud sing-song; he one tim' bonze, hab got sack cos he velly bad bonze, makee plenty too much bobbely in joss-house. He can do swear first-chop: topside galaw!"

"The very man!" exclaimed Bob, unconscious of the broad smile with which Kobo was now regarding him, or of the look of mystification on the faces of the ladies. He got the chief to send for the whilom Buddhist priest who had been expelled from his monastery. While waiting for the man to appear he examined the gramophone; saw that it was in order and ready for use; and found, as the abbot's reply to his questions had led him to expect, that there were several spare cylinders for taking records. As he moved about, too intent on his proceedings to notice anything around him, a light dawned on Mrs. Pottle.

"Well, I never!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. "The boy's a right-down genius, Ethel; I told you so."

Ethel put her fingers to her lips, as the messenger returned, accompanied by a bullet-headed scowling individual whom Bob had already remarked as one of the most determined of his fighters. The man looked somewhat suspicious of the company, still more when Ah-Sam explained why he had been sent for. He had never been asked to curse professionally before. But he brightened, up when he at last understood that his powers of denunciation were to be employed against the enemy. He was touched on a point of personal pride, and declared that his curses had no match in all Manchuria. Bob invited him to curse the Manchus as loudly and venomously as he was able, and the bonze was soon launched on a full tide of invective which, though in a strange tongue, Bob felt to be quite overpowering. Ah-Sam explained to him afterwards that every one of the enemy had been signalized by a special curse, embracing not only himself but his ancestors for a thousand years. The man wound himself up to such a pitch of frenzy that he was quite oblivious of the fact that he was yelling, by Bob's careful manipulation, full into the brazen mouth of the gramophone, whose whirring was wholly smothered by his virulent bellow. Kobo was silently laughing; the ladies tried not to look shocked; Ah-Sam nodded his head and beamed approval, though he was as ignorant as the man himself of the true inwardness of the situation. The capacity of the cylinder was exhausted long before the unfrocked bonze; he was streaming with perspiration when he at length drew his lurid declamation to a close. And he went away a happy man when Bob thanked him fervently, assuring him that such terrible cursing would no doubt avail where all else had failed.

After an interval, Bob took the gramophone to the remotest corner of the settlement, where, shutting himself up in a disused house, he tested the instrument under a covering of blankets. Satisfying himself that the latest record was effective, he got Ah-Sam to carry the machine into the open space in front of the gate. He formed a connection between it and the abbot's house by leading a thread of strong silk from it beneath small rocks into the courtyard. Having proved that the connection was complete, he sat down to wait for the onslaught of the Manchus, which he expected to take place as soon as morning dawned.

No one thought of going to sleep that night. Mrs. Pottle wrote diligently in her note-book, and Bob, without neglecting any precautions for the guarding of the camp, found several opportunities of conversation with Ethel. In a far corner of the large hall Kobo spent several hours in writing alone. By and by he folded the paper, and beckoned Bob to his side.

"I hope much from your device, Mr. Fawcett," he said. "It is a clever idea of yours--to turn the superstitions of these people to account. I think you will succeed. But you must use your success without me. I am so useless that I should only be an encumbrance to you. But my information must not be lost; I have therefore written it down here, and I give you this paper, and entreat you, when you get away, to deliver it as speedily as possible to our general."

"But what will become of you?"

"I shall remain here. Perhaps Chang-Wo will not trouble about me after you are gone. If he finds me--well, I shall then kill myself, as many of my ancestors did; but my life belongs to my country, and while there is any chance of living to do service, I shall not take the extreme step."

"But the Manchus will torture you if they catch you."

"That is likely enough. It is the fortune of war."

"I cannot agree to it," said Bob flatly. "I will not take your despatch unless you make an effort to escape with us. In any case I cannot leave the rest of the wounded to fall into Chang-Wo's hands, and you, Kobo San--no, I certainly shall not go without you."

Kobo endeavoured to induce Bob to change his mind, but finding him obdurate, he at length unwillingly consented to share the fortunes of the rest of the party. As it was now drawing towards dawn, Bob had the horses saddled in readiness to seize the moment when the gramophone should have done its work, and one of the animals was specially fitted up for Kobo, with a rest for the wounded leg. Then he went the round of the defences, giving the men instructions how they were to act.

At the wall, as dawn stole over the sky, stood Bob anxiously waiting. It was still half dark when he saw the enemy cautiously approach. They had conceived too great a respect for the defenders to attempt to take the position at a rush; for they were unaware how much the garrison had been reduced in the combat of the previous night. They took every advantage of cover, flitting in the half light from tree to tree and clump to clump until they had come within a few yards of the walls. Then they halted, puzzled apparently by the strange stillness and the seeming desertion of the position. Bob himself was hidden by an angle of the wall; not a man of the garrison was to be seen. For all the Manchus knew, the defenders might be crowding under shelter of the wall. Bob saw a man climb a tall birch from which the greater part of the settlement could be seen. Discovering from his perch no sign of the Chunchuses, the Manchu shouted excitedly to his comrades, and they rushed forward all along the line. The central body at once came upon the gramophone, which stood lifting its great brazen mouth towards the rising sun. From his secret nook Bob saw them recoil; they evidently took it to be a gun of some kind. Then, finding that nothing happened, and no doubt reflecting that a gun needs a man to fire it, some of the bolder among them approached the instrument cautiously and walked round it, keeping at a safe distance. The rest were now hidden by the wall, under which they crouched until they should receive the command to burst into the courtyard.

Bob felt that the moment had come. He pulled the silken cord, and saw the Manchus nearest the instrument start and look round in apprehension. They heard the preliminary whirring. Then, though the mouth was pointing away from him, Bob could hear in the still morning air the first few words of the bonze's speech. The Manchus stood as if spellbound; one or two edged towards the trees. What was this incredible thing? They looked in alarm at one another; no man but themselves was in sight; it must be from the seeming gun that this voice proceeded, calling down upon them and their ancestors the most terrible defilements and atrocities. This strange monster must be in league with the devils against them. The blatant voice from the gramophone rose louder and louder; curse rolled upon curse, shaming Ernulfus for ever; the passionate tones rose higher and higher towards the peroration, till they became a shriek. The Manchus did not wait for the end. With one accord they bolted under cover; anathema remorselessly pursued them through the trees, over the rocks; and before the bell emitted its final howl the scared enemy had rushed pell-mell down the hill, round the bend, and out of sight.

*CHAPTER XX*

*Herr Schwab Gomblains*

Heavy Odds--War and Commerce--Dead Sea Fruit--A Handicap--Kuroki--Mrs. Pottle is Indiscreet--A Parting

The moment the last of the Manchus disappeared round the bend, Bob gave the order to mount. He knew that though for the moment scared out of their wits by the mysterious voice, they would soon recover when they found it was after all a voice and nothing more. Further, he was disturbed by the absence of Chang-Wo. That redoubtable warrior had not been among the discomfited throng; he had not come within hearing of the anathema; it was scarcely likely that he would relinquish his purpose for an unknown cause. Bob therefore got his little party into order. Mrs. Pottle with her niece and Ah-Sam led the way down the hill, accompanied by half a dozen of the best of the Chunchuses, all mounted on the fastest horses. They went down on the opposite side from that taken by the Manchus, and Bob gave orders to Ah-Sam to conduct them with all possible speed in the direction of Ping-yang. Mrs. Pottle pleaded to be allowed to ride with the main body, but Bob explained that the presence of ladies would prove a source of weakness to him, and that they might do good service by pushing on and sending, if possible, a Japanese force to the relief of the others. Bob had wished also to entrust Kobo's despatch to Ah-Sam for delivery to the Japanese general, but Kobo replied that though the Chinaman had proved a loyal and devoted servant, he preferred that Bob himself should retain the message.

"It is to your courage, presence of mind, and resource that the safety of the party is due," he said, "and I know that if anyone can carry the message through, it will be you. One word only: if you should be wounded, pass the despatch to someone else. If that is not possible, destroy it, for though I wrote in Japanese characters the Russians would no doubt get someone to read them, and it is of vital importance that they should know nothing of what I have written. I still hope to see the general myself and give him my news; but I am very weak, and I fear that I may not be able to keep up with you."

Scarcely three minutes after the ladies and their escort had disappeared down the hill the main body followed. A dozen unwounded men rode in advance; then came the wounded with Kobo; then a few men bringing up the rear to give warning of pursuit. Nothing was seen of the enemy as the band moved downwards and struck off to the south in the track of the ladies. The necessity of sparing the wounded caused the pace to be very slow, scarcely more than four miles an hour; but as hour after hour passed, and still no enemy appeared, Bob began to think that the scare had been so effectual that the Manchus had utterly lost heart.

Suddenly there reached his ears a shout of alarm, followed by several rapid shots, and he saw his advanced guard galloping back upon the main body. A quarter of a mile behind them, round the brow of the hill, came Chang-Wo dashing along at the head of a hundred yelling Manchus. They must have made a circuit with the intention of heading off the fugitives. To evade them was impossible; only one course was open, and the odds were all in favour of the enemy. Bob had scarcely forty men left, but spurring his horse towards the Manchus, he waved the spear he had caught up at the moment of departure, and called on the chief and all the unwounded men to follow him. So great was the confidence with which he had inspired them that they obeyed instantly. Uttering strange guttural cries little resembling a British cheer, they set their horses to the gallop. There was no attempt to secure a regular formation, but in this respect the enemy had no advantage; they came, each man for himself, a scattered group. The ground was rough and strewn with stones, but the riders on either side gave no heed to the horses' footsteps; they had eyes only for each other. In a few seconds the two parties met in the shock of battle. Bob, slightly in advance of his men, rode straight for Chang-Wo, whose head, he noticed, was bandaged; he had been wounded in the fight at the monastery. The Manchu carried a long Chinese sword, with which he parried the thrust of Bob's spear; but before he in his turn could make an offensive stroke, Bob was past him, and, shortening his weapon, had driven it through the Manchu immediately behind. At the same moment he heard a great shouting in front of him, and even as he wondered whether this portended a reinforcement of the enemy, he felt a stinging blow upon the head, staggered, lost grip of the reins, and, falling upon his horse's neck, was thrown violently to the ground.

"It is an outrage! I, Hildebrand Schwab, say it. It vill be a casus belli, sure as a gun, between Gairmany and Japan. Vizout doubt I vill send a telegram to our kaiser, who is in Berlin. I let you know I am a beaceable Gairman sobjeck; notvithstanding vich I am arrested, my liberty is in constraint, my dignity--the dignity of a Gairman sobjeck--is alltopieces. It is, I say it, monstrous; it is onbearable; it is a zink zat I nefer, nefer oferlook!"

Bob was gradually aroused to full consciousness by Herr Schwab's loud voice in bitter complaint. A soft, polite, bored Japanese voice replied:

"The hon'ble correspondent must know that hon'ble correspondents are not allowed beyond Ping-yang. It is plainly written in the instructions issued by his excellency the general for the guidance of hon'ble correspondents, and I regret to say that the hon'ble correspondent has only himself to blame."

"Instructions! You say instructions! Donnerwetter noch einmal! Vat are ze instructions? Ze instructions are to do nozink, see nozink, say nozink. Vat is zat for a kind of var gorresbondence? I rebresent ze _Duesseldoerfer Tageblatt_. I am instructed to agombany ze Japanese field-army. Zey are my instructions--nozink else!"

"I regret I cannot allow the hon'ble correspondent to proceed."

"Vell zen, I brotest; I emphatically brotest. All ze same, I ask you to agombany me backwards to ze next village. Business are business. Zere I make vun deal viz a nice Korean gentleman vat give me order for gomblete set _Brockhaus Encyglobaedia_. But zere vas ozer zinks: I ask you agombany me back till I gomblete my business."

"I regret it is impossible. I must return as rapidly as possible to Chong-ju. The hon'ble correspondent will kindly excuse me."

The Japanese officer turned away, leaving Schwab to retrace his steps in sullen and indignant rage. Bob was amused. A moment later the Japanese came into the hut where he was lying, and finding him awake and conscious, asked how he felt.

"Pretty shaky. I am glad to find myself in Japanese hands. Tell me, did Miss Charteris--did the ladies get in safely?"

"Yes. Two ladies rode into my camp this morning with a Chinese attendant, and told me that an English gentleman was hard pressed by a gang of Manchus. I sent the ladies on to Chong-ju, and rode out to assist you. Fortunately I came up at the critical moment. You had apparently just been knocked off your horse. The Manchus did not wait to receive us. You have had a very nasty knock, hon'ble sir."

"And Kobo--"

"Kobo San! What do you mean?"

"Did you not find him?" Bob started up anxiously. "He was with us. He was wounded. Surely you helped him to escape?"

"I am very sorry, sir. I heard that a wounded Chinaman belonging to your party was missing--presumably captured by the Manchus. I had no idea that he was a Japanese disguised, still less that he was Kobo San."

"The ladies said nothing of him?"

"Nothing. They were exhausted with hard riding, and much agitated. They mentioned no name but your own."

Bob lay back in mute hopelessness. Kobo had fallen into the hands of his enemy! Something must be done to save him. Bob dared not think of the nameless tortures he might suffer at the cruel hands of Chang-Wo.

"How long ago did this happen?" he asked.

"Six hours ago. It is now five o'clock."

"Can't you do something to help him? You know him--how valuable he is to your country. Surely something can be done."

"I regret more than I can say. I would do anything possible for Kobo San, but I must obey orders. I should have pursued the fleeing Manchus had I not been instructed not to advance beyond a certain line. Kobo San will know how to die for Japan."

Bob could say no more. At that moment he almost wished that he could exchange places with Kobo. He knew that Kobo himself would meet his fate with the serenity that characterized his every thought and action; but the knowledge that so brave and heroic a man, when safety was in sight, should have fallen at the eleventh hour into the clutches of his vindictive and merciless enemy, was a bitter disappointment.

The two companies of Japanese infantry who had rescued Bob and his party occupied a small adjacent village that night. Herr Schwab had to submit to the further indignity of being kept under guard. In the morning Bob, who had recovered somewhat from his blow and subsequent fall, asked to be taken to see the implacable correspondent. He found Herr Schwab busily writing.

"No, it is not var gorresbondence," said the German, without looking up, "it is business; so you, Mr. Japanese, vill besokind as leave me in beace."

"And how _is_ business, Mr. Schwab?" asked Bob.

"Vat!" said Schwab, turning with a start; "do I see Mr. Fawcett? It is vonderful, it is incredible! I am glad indeed to meet vat I may viz bermission call a friend. My heart is fery heafy. It is years since I make a so disastrous journey. Vat hafe I done? Nozink. My egsbenses--vere are zey? I do not bay vun shilling in ze bound. My embloyers--zey regard me as colossal humbug. I write letters--yes, dree golumns ze day: 'Imbressions of Japan', 'Views in Korea', 'A Gairman at ze Front'; and zey vire me, four shillings ze vord, 'Gife us var news'. Var news!"

Herr Schwab laughed bitterly.

"Vat can ve know of var news? Zat is vat I ask. Zere vas myself, Mr. Morton, and Monsieur Desjardang, viz ozer gorresbondents--var gorresbondents!"--(Herr Schwab again laughed bitterly)--"at Ping-yang, sixty miles away from ze var. Ze Japanese declare it is great concession ve are allowed so glose--so glose! And ze regulations--potztausend! scarcely dare ve look towards ze nort. It vas heartbreaking--veek after veek pass by; our egsbenses run on."

Bob looked as sympathetic as possible.

"It must have been very rough. Still, you managed to get away apparently."

"Yes, sir. I egsblain to my friends it is onbearable. For myself, if I do not gife ze Japanese ze slip I get ze sack. I offer my friends to agombany me; ve share egsbenses. But Mr. Morton he say somezink about 'blay ze game'; Monsieur Desjardang he talk about ze vord of a Frenchman; but I, Hildebrand Schwab, I retort 'business are business'. So I take off ze vite band vat Japanese red-tape seal on my left arm, and ze same night I am on my vay to ze Yalu. I suffer much hardship, but do I murmur? No; I book seferal orders for Schlagintwert Gombany. But, sir, as you see, I am again in bondage. Vile I am making deal viz Korean excellency, whom I meet on tour of insbection, lo! ve are surbrise by Japanese. Ze order for ze _Conversationslexicon_, I hafe it; but ze order for ze bianola, zat is gombletely gone lost."

Herr Schwab's gloom was depicted in his features, when suddenly an idea seemed to strike him. Laying his hand confidentially on Bob's arm, he said:

"Stay, all is not lost. If you, Mr. Fawcett, can conclude ze transaction, I shall hafe great bleasure to bay you fipercent commission. Ze gentleman is San-Po of ze Imperial Korean Var-office: you vill find him vizout difficulty. Fipercent, Mr. Fawcett!"

Bob had started in surprise at hearing the name of his friend Mr. Helping-to-decide. At the same moment, looking out of the hut, he saw a cavalcade passing the door. At the head rode a high Korean official--a well-remembered figure, with the regulation hat, topknot, and white baggy garments. Mounted on a diminutive pony, his feet almost touched the ground, and his equilibrium was maintained in the customary Korean manner by two sturdy attendants, who supported him on either side. No sooner had Schwab's eyes lighted on this rider than he started forward with an exclamation, saying to Bob:

"Vizout offence you vill permit me to vizdraw my brobosition: egsguse me."

He rushed out in unwieldy haste, wresting from his pocket a capacious note-book as he ran. After him darted a nimble Japanese sentry in full cry. Bob chuckled as he watched the scene. Mr. Helping-to-decide, hearing a guttural hail behind him, half turned upon his saddle (on which Bob recognized the skin of the tiger he had killed), and seeing that he was pursued did not stay to decide why or by whom, but whipped up his pony in haste to escape. Swaying from side to side, he was held up with difficulty by his two supporters, and unsteadily turned a corner, followed within a couple of yards by the lolloping form of Herr Schwab, who in his turn was, but a yard or two ahead of the Japanese.

An hour or two later the whole detachment moved out towards Chong-ju. Bob was provided with a pony, from whose back he saw Schwab trudging disconsolately along in charge of two little Japanese infantrymen. The white band, with his name and the name of his paper in red Japanese characters, was again bound to his left sleeve, labelling him "war correspondent".

On arriving at Chong-ju, which was crowded with Japanese troops, Bob enquired first for Mrs. Pottle and her niece, and learnt that they had already departed under escort for Anju. His next question was for the headquarters of General Kuroki. Learning that these were at Anju, he explained to the officer in command that he had important information for the general, which he had been instructed to deliver personally, and asked to be allowed to proceed at once. The colonel in charge suggested that Bob might give him the information, which he would then forward. He thought Bob looked hardly fit to travel farther on horseback, and there were no carts to spare. But Bob was determined that he would confide Kobo's paper to none but General Kuroki himself, hoping to be able to induce the general to organize a rescue-party on Kobo's behalf. He accordingly rode on with a small escort, and arrived at Anju on the Seoul road late at night, and dead beat.

Fatigued as he was, he at once sent a message to the general asking the favour of an interview. Within half an hour he was in the presence of the commander-in-chief. He felt a little nervous as he looked at the great soldier. General Kuroki was somewhat taller than the average Japanese. His face was deeply bronzed, his hair and moustache gray and bristly. The sternness of his features was relieved by a humorous twinkle in his dark eyes as he glanced at Bob, who felt that the general's undoubted strength of character was combined with tenderness and humanity. He handed him Kobo's small folded paper, and waited while he read it.

"I thank you, Mr. Fawcett," he said at length, refolding the paper and handing it to an aide-de-camp. "Kobo San's intelligence is of the highest importance, and I am greatly in your debt for having brought it to me at such risk. Kobo San does not say why he has not returned. Do you know where he is?"

"I am very sorry to say, sir, that he is a prisoner. He was wounded in crossing the hills, and I very much fear that he is now in the hands of Chang-Wo, the Manchu brigand."

"Indeed! That is deplorable. Tell me, please, all you know. You were, I think, with Lieutenant Yamaguchi in Seoul; I shall be glad to know of the circumstances which have brought you here. Sit down, you look very tired. Perhaps, indeed, you would rather wait till the morning?"

"No, sir, I would rather tell you now."

He proceeded to relate as briefly as possible his experiences from the time he last saw Yamaguchi to the final escape from the Korean monastery. General Kuroki listened without remark, a faint smile crossing his face when he heard of the novel use made of the gramophone.

"You have had a desperately hard time," he said at the conclusion of the story. "I had already heard part of the circumstances from the American ladies who came in some time ago. I can quite understand their warm praise of you. And, let me say, you are to be congratulated on your escape from the Manchu Chang-Wo; he is a desperate villain--an old enemy of Kobo San, as perhaps you know. But now tell me; you came through the mountains north of the Yalu; is the road practicable for guns?"

"It might, I think, with some labour be made practicable for guns for some miles up to the spot where we first struck the Yalu; but I don't think the path we subsequently followed could be so used."

"That path is marked, I think, tentatively on our maps. Look at this; that is the path, is it not?"

"Yes," said Bob, after a glance at the map unrolled before him.

"It would be of the greatest importance to us if it were practicable. Did any of the Chunchuses with whom you have been acting come in with you?"

"Unfortunately no, sir. I learnt that they slipped away immediately after we were relieved by your cavalry."

"They are free lances, and probably thought if they came in they would have to act under our orders, or more probably be disbanded. No doubt they are making their way back by devious paths to their old haunts in Manchuria. It is a pity they have gone. I should have liked to employ some of them as guides."

"May I offer my services, sir?" said Bob instantly. "I couldn't find my way back from here to the hills, but once there I think I could act as guide over the path in question."

"Thank you. I accept your offer at once. I must, of course, wire to Tokio for permission to employ you, as otherwise your duty would be to rejoin the fleet. I will do that at once, and the answer will no doubt come early in the morning. Now, Mr. Fawcett, I will not keep you longer. You need a thorough rest after your trying experiences: that knock on the head will trouble you for some days, I fear; but I hope a good rest will set you up again. My aide-de-camp will provide you with quarters--rough, but the best at my disposal. I shall send for you in the morning."

Only now that the strain was relaxed did Bob realize how desperately tired and worn he was. When he reached the lodging allotted to him, he dropped on to the bed just as he was, and fell fast asleep. It was nearly noon when he awoke. Ah-Sam came to his side, carrying over his arm a suit of clothes.

"My hab catchee tings for massa," he said. "Aflaid massa no can get iniside."

"Well, I can only try," said Bob with a smile. "Get me something to eat, Ah-Sam. Stay, where are the ladies?"

"He in house topside-pidgin man--velly nice. He go Seoul bimeby."

"Oh! Just run and tell them I'm here--"

"Allo savvy. My tellum allo 'bout massa long tim' ago."

"Ask them not to go until I have seen them, then get my breakfast."

"Allo lightee, massa. Littee missy wantchee look-see what--"

"Don't stand talking. Run at once, or they may gone."

"No fear! My savvy littee missy no can wailo 'cept--"

"Go at once!" shouted Bob, and the Chinaman fled.

About an hour later Bob, clad in a Japanese uniform, which left a good deal to be desired about the sleeves and the trousers, was conducted by Ah-Sam to the missionary's house in which the ladies had been hospitably lodged.

"My dear boy, how glad I am to see you!" exclaimed Mrs. Pottle, coming forward with outstretched hands. "We were afraid that you had not escaped from that dreadful brigand. If I had not had Ethel to take care of, I should certainly have ridden back myself--even with nothing but my umbrella that you make fun of."

Bob, from his knowledge of Mrs. Pottle, felt that the fair American was quite equal to that or any other hazardous adventure.

"I am glad indeed there was no occasion," he said. "I wouldn't have you come within fifty miles of that desperate gang."

"That would have been no worse, not a bit, for I haven't slept a wink worrying about you, neither has Ethel; indeed, the dear child has lost all her colour, as you see."

Bob looked at the younger lady, but found that her cheeks were warm with a charming little blush, which deepened as she avoided his glance.

"Oh, Aunt Jane," she said, "you really shouldn't exaggerate--I--"

"There now! I've done it again. I am always putting my foot in it. But all's well that ends well. You're here safe--but dear me, poor boy, you've lost your colour. We shall have to take care of you, I can see that."

"Oh, it's nothing," said Bob; "a rap over the head, that's all. I shall be right in a day or two."

"But you will let us do what we can," said Ethel. "We owe you so much, Mr. Fawcett, and there is so little that we can do."

Bob looked, as he felt, rather uncomfortable. Mrs. Pottle noted the fact.

"Don't go, Mr. Fawcett," she said with a smile. "There, I promise, you sha'n't hear another word of thanks. I knew it: you look quite relieved already."

Bob laughed, and the ladies joined him, while Ah-Sam looked on gravely, in evident wonder at what had caused the merriment.

"Can I do anything to help you on your way?" asked Bob. "I'm afraid I shall soon have to say good-bye."

The ladies looked at him in surprise.

"But are you not going to Seoul?" asked Mrs. Pottle.

"Not yet, I'm sorry to say. I have something yet to do."

"We are not in a hurry. We could quite well wait a day or two."

"It is not a matter of days, unfortunately. It may be weeks or even months."

"You are not going back?" said Ethel, vainly endeavouring to conceal her anxiety. Bob afterwards remembered that there was a tremor in her voice.

"Yes," he said, "I am going north again. General Kuroki thinks I can be of some use to him, and afterwards--well, I have to find my friend Kobo."

"But, Mr. Fawcett, surely that is quixotic," said Mrs. Pottle. "You could not hope to find him. Indeed, poor man! if that villain Chang-Wo has captured him, his life will not be worth a moment's purchase. Think of the risk you would run: it is terrible."

"Yes, indeed," added Ethel earnestly. "Please do not go. Think of--of your friends."

"Believe me, I will run no needless risks, but I must do what I can to find my friend or learn his fate. Remember what I owe to him."

"Yes, we ought not to forget that," said Ethel; "you owe him--what we owe to you."

She turned away. Mrs. Pottle put her arm about her niece's waist.

"Is it to be good-bye, then?" she asked.

Before Bob could reply, Ah-Sam, who had left the room for a few minutes, returned hurriedly.

"One piecee Japanee come fetchee ladies Seoulee side. Hab got horses; wantchee lide wailo chop-chop: topside fightee pidgin."

A few questions asked of Ah-Sam, and Bob explained to Mrs. Pottle that an officer was about to start on military business for Seoul, and the occasion had been seized to provide the American ladies with an escort. He would arrive within a few minutes. Bob despatched Ah-Sam with an answer, then turned to Mrs. Pottle.

"Yes," he said, "it is good-bye."

"But not for long," she replied with forced cheerfulness. "We shall stay, anyhow, two months at Yokohama, and you must come right along as soon as you can."

"Good-bye, Mr. Fawcett," said Ethel, giving him her hand. "We shall pray for your success. Good-bye!"

*CHAPTER XXI*

*The Battle of the Yalu River*

The Impossible--Stage Properties--Outwitted--The Battle Opens--Russians at Bay--Yamaguchi's Experiences

"It is clear, Mr. Fawcett, that you have the bump of locality."

"I am not sure of that, sir. What I remember of these hills is due to the Manchu Chang-Wo. We were continually looking back, expecting to see him on our track."

"At any rate you seem to have brought away a remarkably vivid impression of the country--fortunately for us. This path, bad as it is, has saved us an immensity of labour, and--what is more important--time."

General Inouye pulled up his horse as he spoke, and looked back upon the long line of troops zigzagging up the face of the mountain. The blue uniforms of the Japanese soldiers showed up clearly against the bare ochreous rocks of the hillside, offering a conspicuous mark to the enemy, had the enemy been there to see. But these rugged, precipitous hills had always been regarded as impracticable for troops; the Russians had no fear of attack from this quarter, and had made no attempt to occupy them.

There was an unusually large prospect from the spur overhanging the deep gully on which General Inouye and Bob stood side by side. Above them the road disappeared abruptly round the face of the mountain; below, it wound erratically down the boulder-strewn slope, here and there plunging out of sight in a hollow, to emerge again, it might be hundreds of yards lower down, as a narrow ledge on the face of a perpendicular crag, on which the Japanese troops seemed in the distance like an army of ants on the march.

These were the hills through which Bob and his party had made their perilous journey some weeks earlier. They lay on the left flank of the Russian army drawn up around Kiu-lien-cheng, and on the banks of the Yalu, to hurl back the Japanese when they attempted to set foot in Manchuria. General Sassulitch fondly hoped that these hills would afford a complete protection to his flank: as the event was ordered, it was from them that he sustained his most crushing blow. The Twelfth Division, known to the Japanese as the Sampo Shidan in consequence of its large equipment of mountain-guns, was chosen to make the hazardous passage, and to any troops of less endurance than the Japanese, the task might well have proved impossible; for they were not only required to cross a series of steep mountain ridges, but to do so within a very limited time, and to bring their guns with them. Bob watched the steady progress of the column with many a thrill of admiration, and with pride that he was privileged to bear a small part in this momentous movement. Burdened with its artillery, ammunition, and supplies, the column moved steadily forward; now crawling with infinite pains up almost perpendicular slopes, the willing little soldiers pushing, hauling, at times almost carrying the wretched horses and ponies groaning under guns, gun-carriages, or boxes of shell; then with no less strain staggering, slipping, sliding down the opposite face of the hill, to begin another climb in this unending series of bluffs and chasms.

The march had begun early in the day; it was now late in the afternoon, and Bob more than once saw General Inouye looking anxiously westward. They rounded the shoulder of a steep hill; half a mile or more ahead a small body of cavalry thrown out in advance had halted, evidently in doubt as to their further course.

"To the left," said Bob, answering General Inouye's unspoken question, "across that small spur, and straight up the farther slope."

The general translated the instructions to an aide-de-camp, who clattered down the hill at the imminent risk of his neck.

"You say, Mr. Fawcett, that in another hour we should open up the Ai-ho river?"

"Yes, sir. As far as I remember we sighted the river from the crest of yonder hill." Bob pointed, as he spoke, to a conical hill about two miles ahead, behind which the sun was now setting in a blaze of glory. Within the hour General Inouye and his staff had gained the crest of the hill, and were looking down on the noisy little river hurrying through a narrow valley to join the Yalu some miles below. On the far side of the stream was another range of hills, upon which, as General Inouye was aware, the main Russian force was concentrated. It was against these hills that the Twelfth Division would hurl itself at dawn on the following day.

Approaching the Ai-ho the hills became somewhat less rugged, facilitating the deployment of General Inouye's force along the left bank of the river. The Twelfth Division had arrived in good time at the appointed place; with guns unlimbered for action, it waited only for the word.

"Good-night, Mr. Fawcett," said General Inouye when they separated; "good-night, and thank you. You have rendered us a most valuable service--how valuable the events of to-morrow may show."

Bob spent the night in the bivouac of the staff. Even the prospect of the coming struggle failed to disturb his sleep. He had gone through too many experiences of late not to take full advantage of any chance of rest.

The position of the two armies that lay facing each other through the long summer night was in many respects an extraordinary one. The river Yalu is joined nearly opposite Wiju by the Ai-ho; above and below the confluence its channel is dotted with numerous large islands, between which the stream threads a tortuous and at times impetuous course. At the angle formed by the two rivers is Tiger Hill, a steep bluff jutting far out into the channel. Just below the hill runs the Mandarin road from Seoul to Pekin, passing from Wiju on the south bank, across two sandy islands connected by a ferry, and thence to Kiu-lien-cheng, on the Manchurian side, a short distance to the north of the river.

The Russian front, before the development of General Kuroki's attack, extended from a point opposite Yongampo at the mouth of the Yalu to Sukuchin, some thirty miles up the river, and above Wiju. The main body was massed around Kiu-lien-cheng, the left wing having its outposts on Tiger Hill and the islands in the river above that point, while the right had outposts on the larger islands opposite Wiju. A strong force was held in reserve at Antung.

On his ride up from Wiju Bob had been greatly puzzled by a series of huge screens of brushwood, matting, and stalks placed along or across the roadway. What object, he wondered, could they serve? It was not until he reached the high ground near the Yalu that their purpose became clear to him. He saw then that the heights on the Russian side of the river completely overlooked the lower hills on the Korean bank; in ordinary circumstances every movement could be observed from the Russian lines; the numbers and dispositions of troops, the construction of fortifications and batteries, could all be noted with the aid of strong field-glasses. From the Japanese point of view this was a serious weakness of the position. Secrecy is so essential a condition of the Japanese system of conducting warfare that General Kuroki was led to adopt a novel and somewhat extraordinary method of baffling the curiosity of the enemy. Looking back from a point of vantage near the river, Bob saw a force of blue-coated Japanese infantry marching to the front along the Mandarin road. Suddenly they disappeared behind a leafy screen, and though he watched carefully, expecting to see them emerge again farther along the highway, he was unable to detect any further sign of their presence. The incident recalled a conjuring trick of Mr. Maskelyne; and to the Russians beyond the river it must have been both puzzling and irritating. Thanks to this system of screens they could neither form an estimate of the strength of the Japanese opposed to them, nor make any likely guess as to the probable point of attack. Their position was one of extreme strength; but uncertainty regarding General Kuroki's movements largely discounted the advantages they enjoyed as a defensive force entrenched among rugged hills. Here and there, indeed, General Kuroki allowed them to obtain a hint of his arrangements; they snapped at the bait--with what result is now written in history.

It was nearly ten years since the Japanese Field-marshal Yamagata had forced the passage of the Yalu in the face of a Chinese army supposed to be impregnably entrenched in the positions now held by the Russians. The main crossing had been made opposite Wiju, but the principal movement was greatly assisted by the passage of a column higher up the river at Sukuchin. General Sassulitch must anxiously have asked himself whether the Japanese would or would not repeat this operation. Patriotic self-complacency probably suggested the answer. Was it likely that the Japanese would dare to repeat against a trained and disciplined Russian army the manoeuvre, necessarily hazardous, which they had risked against raw Chinese levies? Emphatically no. And in arriving at this conclusion the Russian general was assisted by an ingenious feint on the part of his opponent. With an openness that should have inspired distrust, General Kuroki collected a large amount of bridging material on the Korean shore at Yongampo and higher up the river opposite Antung, while a strong naval flotilla, comprising torpedo-boats, destroyers, and gun-boats, fought its way some distance up-stream, as though in support of a projected crossing in the lower reaches. To meet the expected attack in this quarter the Russian general kept a large body of troops elaborately entrenched in readiness at Antung, and allowed his attention to be diverted from the point thirty miles higher up, at which the first crossing had been made ten years earlier.

General Kuroki had completely taken the measure of his adversary. Having persuaded General Sassulitch to disperse his troops over an unnecessarily large front, he made careful dispositions to ensure a successful passage of the river at Sukuchin, and under cover of a flank attack from this quarter he proposed to pass the main body of his army across the island-strewn channel opposite Wiju. The Twelfth Division, entrusted with the flank movement, had easily driven away a small Russian force stationed on the right bank opposite Sukuchin, thrown a pontoon bridge across the river, and established itself on the right bank almost without opposition. The Russians made no attempt to correct their mistake, so convinced were they that the real danger lay towards the mouth of the river. Besides, were they not sufficiently protected by the chain of impassable ridges that stretched far inland between the Yalu and the Ai-ho? Yet it was across these impassable ridges that the Twelfth Division had orders to make its way, and establish itself on the left bank of the tributary stream in readiness for a general attack on the Russian position. This movement, as we have seen, was duly carried out. It was the eve of May-day.

A fierce artillery duel had meanwhile been fought between the Japanese batteries near Wiju and the Russian positions around Kiu-lien-cheng. In this battle of the giants the Russians were completely outmatched--another triumph of Japanese secrecy and prevision. Unknown to the enemy the Japanese had brought by sea to the Yalu a large number of quick-firers and heavy guns, and, most important of all, several howitzers. To these the Russians could only oppose a limited number of field-pieces. A movement of Japanese infantry towards the crest of the hills on the Korean side drew the fire of the Russian batteries and disclosed their position. They were at once answered by an appalling cannonade from the Japanese batteries. From the islands in the river, from the heights north and south of Wiju, the Japanese rained a murderous fire of shell and shrapnel upon the luckless Russian gunners. There was no escape, for they had not reckoned with the howitzers cunningly placed in pits on the islets beneath, and able to search the whole Russian position with high-angle fire. The hills seemed to wilt under the storm; the earth was riddled, the very rocks were rent with the hail of lead and steel scattered by the bursting charges of the terrible Shimose powder. A thick pall of poisonous smoke hung over the devoted Russian batteries; nothing could live under this shattering bombardment. The Russians stuck to their guns like heroes; never certainly did soldiers deserve better of their country. But gradually their fire slackened, then died away: the gunners lay dead at their posts.

That night the Guards and the Second Division of the Japanese army were passed by two bridges across the river, and took up a position on the right bank, sheltered under the bluffs or in the hollows in the sandy bed of the stream. The Second Division had crossed somewhat below Wiju to an island on the far side of the channel, the Guards immediately opposite Tiger Hill. The Russians were now threatened with a frontal attack by these two divisions--the Second operating direct from the Yalu, the Guards across the mouth of the Ai-ho--while the Twelfth Division, higher up the Ai-ho, was ready to attack them in flank.

Bob was tingling with excitement when he awoke on the auspicious morning of May-day. The air was crisp and keen, but spring had come at last; spring, and with it the dawn of a new era for Japan. General Inouye's camp was early astir; the sturdy little soldiers, in their trim blue uniforms, went about their morning duties with quiet cheerfulness, ready to launch themselves at the word upon the grim hills opposite, where death, they knew, awaited some; glory, they hoped, all.

Too late the Russian general had realized his fatal error in allowing the Twelfth Division to march unopposed across the hills. Too late he had taken such feverish steps as were now possible in the attempt to retrieve it. He had withdrawn in haste a considerable force from Antung to hold the bluffs on the right bank of the Ai-ho, and hurriedly begun to throw up entrenchments. General Inouye smiled when he learnt of these tardy efforts to stay him; plans carefully thought out for years were not likely to be foiled by bustle at the eleventh hour.

Hardly had the sun risen when the battle was begun by a general outburst of artillery fire along the whole of the Japanese lines. There was no response from the enemy; it almost seemed as if the position were already deserted. But soon the order was given to the Japanese infantry to advance to the assault. The three divisions moved forward simultaneously. Bob could not see what the other two were doing, but he watched with tense eagerness as the Twelfth Division dashed down the hillside to the bank of the Ai-ho. A murderous rifle-fire was opened upon them from the Russian trenches. But never a man faltered. Springing on nimbly, some taking what cover the ground afforded, others disdaining precaution, they reached the stream. They plunged in, holding their rifles and pouches above their heads, and forcing their way against the rapid current that swept along breast-high. They had now entered the zone of fire; the surface of the river boiled under the hail of Russian bullets; the turbid waters were red with Japan's best blood; but to Bob, watching intently from the hill above, the sound of their war-song came floating upon the morning breeze--

"Oh! it is easy to cross the Yalu river!"

and, with sublime and happy indifference, they struggled on.

Look: they are gaining the farther bank. At last--it seems an eternity!--the river is crossed. Up, up they scramble, scaling the bluffs in grim silence now. The air rattles with the crack of rifles, throbs with the thud of heavy guns. Men are falling fast, but the survivors are still pressing on, up the murderous heights, ever drawing nearer to the enemy on the crest. Bob, his whole body a-tingle, can bear his inaction no longer. He turns to a senior officer of the staff:

"May I follow them up, sir? I have nothing to do now."

"You had better stay with us," replied the officer with a smile, lowering his field-glass; "still, if you wish--"