Chapter VIII: Part 8

While he was wondering what to do for the best, his eye lit on the fissure in the rock above which had attracted his attention when he first came along the road. Was it deep enough, he wondered, to afford protection to the two ladies? At the mouth it was exposed to the enfilading fire of the Russians, but if it extended for any considerable distance into the rock, it might form a place of refuge. He resolved to explore it. It could only be approached by the shelf of rock that abutted on the mountain stream, and this for the greater part of its length was sheltered from the enemy. But there was a strip of some twenty yards lying in the interval between two shelving rocks, and this was quite open. It would be a case of running the gauntlet. He looked round in final search of another way; there was none; he must himself take the risk.

But it was necessary first to ensure the safety of his little force during his absence. He therefore withdrew the greater part from the wall at the mouth of the gorge, leaving only a dozen men, who were protected from the fire of the Russians on the heights by a projecting spur of the hill. These being the best marksmen could probably hold the enemy in check for a time, but Bob ordered them to withdraw behind the upper barricade if the Russians, realizing the weakness of the defending force, should at last attempt a rush. Meanwhile the men he had withdrawn were set to construct with boulders a small fort high up the gorge just under the waterfall; this would form excellent vantage ground in case the Russians occupied the lower portion of the gully.

These arrangements having been made, Bob left the ladies in charge of Ah-Sam and started on his hazardous expedition. Knowing that the fissure, if of any considerable depth, must be quite dark, he took with him a torch improvised out of a piece of sacking smeared with mule fat, and a box of matches. He climbed over the intervening rocks, turned a corner, reached the ledge, and walked along until he came to the exposed portion, where he halted for a moment. Then, springing forward like a sprinter, he dashed over the narrow shelf at the imminent risk of stumbling and falling to the rocky bed of the stream fifty feet below. He was seen by the Russians on the hill, and in the few seconds he took to complete the passage he heard a patter of bullets on the rocks, and one or two even followed him as he gained the opening and plunged in. But he had escaped unhurt, and safe in the fissure he paused to take breath and to light his torch, reflecting that he would run double danger in coming out, for the Russians would doubtless be on the watch for him.

Making his way into the cleft, he found that it was broader than he had expected. After about twenty yards it took a sudden curve to the left, and then widened into a jagged irregular passage some four yards in breadth, and of varying height. At one moment, torch in hand, he had to stoop to avoid a sharp edge of rock; a little later the passage was at least twenty feet high. He had penetrated as nearly as he could judge for about fifty yards, when his steps were arrested by the faint sounds of firing behind him, and he hurried back. As he approached the opening the sound became so loud and continuous that he felt sure a stiff fight was in progress. Keeping close to the less-exposed wall of the cleft at its mouth, he saw from his elevated position that the Russians were at last making the long-expected attack. From the hill a hot fire was being brought to bear upon the mouth of the gully, while a number of the enemy were just emerging from round the hillside to the right, being protected from the fire of the dozen Chunchuses by the boulders. They were making for the right extremity of the barrier, a point which it was impossible to defend because of the direct and rapid firing from the hill.

Clearly the twelve men gallantly holding their own at the mouth of the gully were in danger of being cut off. Bob only took a second or two to recognize the urgency of the case; then, springing on to the ledge at the mouth of the cleft, he rushed along it at breakneck speed, and owed his safety to his quick movements, for before the Russians caught sight of him, occupied as they were with keeping down the fire from the barrier beneath, he had covered several yards, and the snap shots they then took flew wide of the mark. Arriving at the corner, he shouted to Ah-Sam below an order to recall the men from the breastwork. The command was instantly given, and the brigands, running like cats from rock to rock, scrambled up the gully and flung themselves pell-mell through a small gap left for them in the barricade above, one or two of them being hit by Russian bullets. The advancing enemy at once occupied the far side of the abandoned breastwork, and opened fire on the upper defences; but when a few attempted to cross and move up the gully the fire of the Chunchuses proved too hot for them, and they hastily retreated.

Except that the defenders were now driven into a more confined space, the general situation had from the Russian point of view improved but little. The Russians dared not press forward up the gorge, for it had been so thoroughly cleared of boulders for the construction of the barricades that it was almost wholly devoid of cover for an attacking force. The double entrenchments above were even stronger than the breastwork below, and could only be carried at a terrible cost.

By this time Bob had clambered down among his men. Unpleasant news was in waiting for him. Through Ah-Sam the brigand leader informed him that the men's ammunition was running short; they had only an average of five rounds a man remaining. This was an irremediable misfortune. Only one course was possible. All the available ammunition was collected and distributed, principally among the twenty best shots in the band. Ten of these men were stationed at the barricade by the carts, and ten in the fort recently constructed higher up the gully. The remainder of the garrison were given one round apiece, and this was only to be used on an emergency. They were to make no attempt to reply to the fire of the Russians. Bob stationed himself by the cart where Chang-Wo was still bound, and fired a shot at intervals whenever an incautious member of the attacking force presumed on the general silence of the besieged and emerged from cover. More than once his shots took effect, and as a result the enemy became more cautious, keeping well behind the shelter of the rocks, and settling themselves to establish a strict blockade.

Thus the day passed. At the approach of night, Bob for the first time informed Mrs. Pottle of the place of safety he had found for her and her niece. The strain of the siege was beginning to tell on the elder lady, who quite meekly accepted Bob's proposal, and prepared to climb with him to the cleft. He was as much pleased as surprised to find that Ethel became cooler and more self-possessed as her aunt grew more nervous. When she learnt of the new habitation in the heart of the rock she was eager to visit it; clearly the romance of the situation appealed to her more strongly than the danger.

Bob did not care to risk lighting his torch. It was therefore a task of no little difficulty for him and Ah-Sam to conduct the ladies along the narrow ledge to the mouth of the cleft. But the passage was successfully made, and Mrs. Pottle, panting for breath, heaved a sigh of relief when she found herself seated on the sacks placed by Ah-Sam within the entrance. Then Bob lit his torch, and by its light the ladies saw the rugged sides and roof of their new abode.

"You must leave me the torch, Mr. Fawcett," said Mrs. Pottle. "I cannot be left in this gloomy place in the dark."

"I will give you the materials for one," said Bob, "but it will be unwise to keep a light constantly burning. The Russians would see it from their hill, and I don't want them to frighten you by firing shots into the cleft."

"But in the morning," said Ethel, "we shall want to communicate with you. Will it not be dangerous for you to come and see us if the opening is exposed to the Russians' fire?"

"We will guard against that," said Bob. "Ah-Sam and I will pile up some boulders at the opening, and at the edge of that shelf of rock, and then we shall be pretty safe. And for your own security here I have brought a pistol; use it on the least provocation. Either I or Ah-Sam will be near at hand; when we are not on guard at the barricade we shall get a little sleep in a recess round the corner, just before the ledge begins; we shall hear you if you call."

"Well, Mr. Fawcett," said Mrs. Pottle, "I guess you're a real nice boy, and if we get out of this alive I don't know how I shall be able to show my gratitude. Anyhow, your name shall be known throughout the United States, from Texas to Oregon. Ethel, will you take the pistol or shall I?"

"You have your umbrella, aunt," replied Ethel with a sly look at Bob.

Leaving the ladies to settle the point between themselves, he returned to the edge of the gully, and succeeded in obtaining a few hours' sleep. He was awakened by the voice of Ah-Sam addressing him urgently.

"Topside piecee Manchu no belongey no more this-side," said the Chinaman. "Hab gone wailo other-side, galaw!"

"Gone?"

"Lun wailo chop-chop, massa; my no can find he."

"How did that happen? What was the sentry doing?"

"One piecee man gone dead."

Bob hurried to the cart, and found that it was indeed as Ah-Sam had said: Chang-Wo had escaped. The cords that had bound him to the cart lay loose; they were uncut. On the ground beside them lay the dead body of one of the Chunchuses; he had been stabbed to the heart. No one could give any information of the escape. The sentry had been changed at intervals according to Bob's instructions; no sound had been heard during the night; the Manchu had somehow managed to free himself from his bonds and stolen away in silence. Bob was vexed, even more at the slackness of the guard than at the disappearance of Chang-Wo, and he did not fail to point the moral in a serious talk with Sing-Cheng, who for his part was almost beside himself with rage. Nothing could be done, the Manchu was gone. Bob wondered whether their paths would ever cross again.

That day also passed, and still the Russians had made no sign. Bob chafed at their inactivity. Apparently they were determined to starve the garrison out. They might have been waiting for reinforcements, and the fact that none had arrived seemed a proof that the general advance of the Japanese army towards the Yalu had given the Russian staff other matters to think about. How long could the defenders hold out? The pony and one mule had already been eaten; there was no food for the other two mules, and they must soon be killed to appease the men's hunger. For the ladies there still remained a quantity of grain that might be eked out with great economy for two or three days, but the supply of fuel was failing. Ah-Sam had hitherto found scattered billets of wood in the shape of branches fallen from the trees high up the cliff and inaccessible from below. There was still the cart, and it was evident that ere long that must be broken up.

That night Bob took a spell of duty at the lower barricade, leaving just before three o'clock in the morning to snatch a rest before dawn. He had just dropped off to sleep when he was startled to wakefulness by the sound of a shot. His resting-place, as usual, was the end of the ledge leading to the ladies' bower, as Ethel had called it, and the sound seemed so close to him that he knew at once it must have proceeded from Mrs. Pottle's pistol. Hurrying along the ledge as quickly as possible in the darkness, his footsteps were heard by the ladies, and Mrs. Pottle cried out to him to come to their assistance. The mouth of the cleft was in pitch darkness, the night being cloudy; but Bob struck a match, and saw Mrs. Pottle standing with her face to the interior, holding the pistol in her right hand, and with her left pushing Ethel behind her ample form.

"What has happened?" asked Bob anxiously.

"I have shot something. Take care; there may be another, there may be hundreds. I will fire again. Listen! do you hear footsteps?"

All three held their breath. There was not a sound. Bob picked up and lit the torch, and advanced in front of the ladies, throwing a faint illumination on the irregular roof and walls. Nothing was to be seen.

"Perhaps it was a bird," said Bob.

"Not at all, Mr. Fawcett. It was a man, I know it was. I was lying awake, thinking, and listening to dear Ethel's breathing, when I heard a footstep. I jumped up; I heard it distinctly; then a sort of grunt, like a man clearing his throat; then I saw a pair of eyes shining--"

"Oh, Aunt Jane, how could you in the dark?"

"My dear, I did; and to prove it, when I fired the pistol the eyes disappeared, and you woke up, and you yourself heard footsteps, several footsteps, going quickly away into the interior."

"I did seem to hear footsteps," said Ethel, "but I was so scared that--Oh, Mr. Fawcett, I don't like this dark place. We don't know who may be in it."

"But I went a good way through it before I brought you here, and saw nothing."

"Depend upon it, there's another entrance," declared Mrs. Pottle, "and the Russians were coming to attack us this way. If I had not been awake we should all have been murdered. I think I frightened them, I know I did; but they will come back. Mr. Fawcett, you must bring up your men and drive the villains out at the other end."

"It is extraordinary. I cannot think that is the explanation. Russians would not have run away at one pistol-shot. I must go into the interior and explore. Ah-Sam, go and bring me another torch."

The Chinaman had followed in Bob's footsteps. He soon returned from the encampment with a torch, which he lit at Bob's order.

"You will stay here with the torch till I return," said Bob.

"No can do," declared Ah-Sam. "My walkee behind-side massa, look-see iniside. Supposey massa catchee Rosha man; ch'hoy! what for China-boy stop wailo? One piecee man catchee you, he killum--sartin."

"Nonsense. You must guard the ladies. Do not follow me unless I call you. I will be as quick as I can," he added to the ladies.

Then taking one torch in his left hand and a pistol in his right, he advanced cautiously into the cleft, leaving the ladies standing with joined hands.

*CHAPTER XVII*

*A Night Reconnaissance*

A Council of War--Looking West--Light--The Face of the Cliff--Scouting--A Question of Navigation

Bob had not walked many yards along the rough floor when he heard a slight sound ahead. Thrusting his torch well forward, he advanced with great caution, feeling some anxiety now he had the evidence of his own ears that Mrs. Pottle had not been dreaming. If by any chance one of the enemy had found his way to the cleft, Bob felt that he himself would be at a great disadvantage, being seen while the other was unseen. "But I am in for it now," he reflected; "it would be as dangerous to retire as to advance." He was so intent upon watching the space in front of him that he stumbled more than once over the rocky, uneven floor of the cavern. At every few yards he stopped to peer more carefully, and to listen; always he saw nothing, always heard the sound of a light footfall ahead. Fearing that his quarry would escape him he hurried his pace; there was a corresponding acceleration in front; he hurried still more, so did the other; until Bob, his uneasiness now banished by set determination, was pushing forward at the utmost speed the rough ground permitted.

Now he heard the sound of heavy breathing, and a scurrying noise as of more than one person in full flight. Stumbling, falling, scrambling on, Bob dashed in pursuit; he must know at all costs what this new peril might be. At length, at a point where the roof shelved downwards, he caught a glimpse of a dark form not many yards in advance; it was immediately lost in shadow, then again it was discovered by the torch. He did not venture yet to fire, but sprang forward to reduce the distance between himself and the hurrying form. He was gaining on it; its pace appeared to be slackening; he called on it to stop, or he would fire. Suddenly the form disappeared, sinking as if into the floor. Bob took a couple of steps, and then started back with a thrill of terror. He felt wind upon his cheek; the torch flared more brightly. He had emerged from the cleft; beneath him yawned a vast empty blackness. He was on the brink of an abyss. At that moment he heard from below a heavy thud, and started back from the edge with a sudden feeling of faintness. Then he became aware that his torch could be seen from far around, and flinging it upon the ground he stamped out the flame.

Recovering from his momentary vertigo, he crawled cautiously to the brink of the precipice. There was nothing to be seen, save where a thin streak of still unmelted snow in a crevice a few yards below made a grayish patch on the black. He rose, picked up the torch, relit it when he had retraced his steps for several yards into the cavern, and made his way back to the other end.

"Well?" exclaimed both the ladies in a breath, as they saw him in a circle of light some time before he reached them.

"We have been so much alarmed about you." added Mrs. Pottle. Ethel gave a sigh of relief.

"There was something, or somebody," said Bob quietly.

"A Russian?"

"I don't know. Whoever he was, he is gone. He fell over a precipice at the far end."

"Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Ethel. "Mr. Fawcett, you are quite pale. Did you--is there--"

"Don't be alarmed," said Bob. "I have been right through the cavern now. It is open at the other end; and to make sure that you are not startled again, Ah-Sam and I will build a barricade across the cavern, so that it will be impossible for anyone to reach you from the rear. When it is light I will explore again, and find out who the intruder was."

"I hope you killed him outright," said Mrs. Pottle.

"I could not fire. He was gone before I knew, and--"

"And you nearly followed him! Oh!" Ethel covered her face with her hands.

"You are pale, Mr. Fawcett," said Mrs. Pottle. "What would I give for a little brandy! I really cannot allow you to risk your life any more. I should never forgive myself if I led you into any harm. As soon as it is light, I will give myself up to the Russians; I will indeed, I am quite resolved; this cannot go on any longer. I see how selfish I was; but for us women you could have got away."

Mrs. Pottle's declaration had on Bob the effect of a tonic. He smiled as he saw the lady grasp her unfailing stand-by--her umbrella.

"I don't think it would have been so easy," he said. "I hope you will give me another chance. We have got on up to the present better than I dared to hope; we need not talk of surrender just yet."

"Besides, auntie," said Ethel, "you wouldn't go when Mr. Fawcett gave you the choice, and it isn't fair now that--"

"There now, that'll do. I am outvoted. I will stay as long as there is any tea, but when all the tea is gone I shall take that as a warning from Providence, and then, Mr. Fawcett, I shall give myself up, and plead with the Russians for your life."

With Ah-Sam's assistance Bob collected the loose rocks within the cleft and made a rough barrier across the narrowest part of the cavern. Then he returned to his post and slept, leaving the Chinaman on guard.

After a distasteful breakfast of mule's flesh and tea, Bob again made his way through the cavern. Counting his paces, he found that it was about one hundred and fifty yards in length. Just before the farther opening it narrowed considerably, so that there was little more than room for two men to pass through abreast. At the mouth it emerged on the side of a sheer hill-face nearly two hundred feet above the ground. Standing just within the cleft, Bob was to a large extent sheltered from view from the open by a jagged spur jutting out from the cliff, a piece of rock that had apparently offered greater resistance to denudation than the surrounding surface. He approached the edge of the precipice, and throwing himself on his face, peered over.

The first object that caught his eye, wedged in between two rocks near the foot of the precipice, was the body of a large brown bear. It was almost with a gasp of relief that Bob realized that the object of his chase was not a human being. In a flash he remembered the bear which he had seen squatting at the side of the gully when he passed the entrance a few days before.

"What an ass I was not to remember it!" he thought.

Then he blamed himself for allowing the ladies to take up their quarters in the cleft; before he had thoroughly explored it. The bear had evidently used it for his winter's sleeping-place, and had been alarmed at the disturbance of his domain. He now lay stone dead, having fallen sheer for about sixty feet and then rebounded from a slope on to the rocks beneath.

Looking up, Bob saw that the weather-carved cliff stretched for at least three hundred feet above him. On his left he observed that the hill-face bent round; beyond its outline he saw an extent of undulating country bounded by snow-capped hills. He wondered what was round the corner; the mouth of the gully must of course be in that direction, and not far away. He remembered that the general trend of the cavern had been towards the left; it must form one side of an irregular triangle, of which the gully and the hill-face were the other sides.

What bearing would this discovery have on the situation in which he and his strange allies found themselves? He had barely asked himself the question when he saw a Cossack in the distance, riding at speed as if directly towards him. Coming from the west, he had probably brought news or orders to the leader of the Russian besiegers. Bob watched the rider draw nearer and nearer, and then pass from his sight to the left behind the jagged rock. Then he turned and retraced his steps through the cavern, thinking deeply as he went.

Nothing happened to break the monotony of that weary day. The Chunchuses, pent up in their narrow quarters, became restless and irritable, and Bob feared lest they should quarrel among themselves. They resented the short rations on which they were kept, and looked hungrily on the one remaining mule, which, poor beast, seemed so wretched in its mute famished condition that Bob ordered it to be shot. More than once, as he pondered over things, he wondered whether it might be possible for the garrison to slip away through the passage he had discovered, but always he had to reject the idea as impracticable. Even if they succeeded in descending the precipitous cliff in safety, they could not hope to get clear away; for the Russians would soon discover their absence from the gully, they would be pursued, and the enemy, being mounted, must infallibly run them down. Nothing was to be gained by such a hazardous attempt; there seemed no alternative but to wait on.

The position was one of great strain and responsibility for a youth whose powers of endurance and of organization had never yet been put to so severe a test. But it is in circumstances of difficulty and danger that a man shows of what stuff he is made, and the manner in which Bob braced himself to his task won a good deal of admiration from the ladies. Though his sunken eyes and lined face showed how severely he was being tried, he was always cheery, always hopeful, keeping his anxieties to himself, and ever ready with plausible reasons why his companions should not despair. Mrs. Pottle sang his praises all day long to Ethel, and Ethel listened and said little.

Next morning Mrs. Pottle, who had taken charge of Ah-Sam's stock of grain-food, reported that it was coming to an end. The tea would last perhaps for two days, she said; but there was no fuel save what could be got by breaking up Ah-Sam's cart. Mrs. Pottle, in spite of herself, was evidently hankering after something more substantial than rice. She began to drop hints. Mules and oxen were both four-footed, she said; there was a great deal in custom; after all, one couldn't say unless one tried; and so on. Ethel only shuddered. But one mule would not last for ever. What could be done? It seemed to Bob that they must all either starve or submit. More than once during the day he went through the cavern to the farther end, and anxiously scanned the limited horizon--with no defined purpose or expectation of help, for from that direction help could only come to the Russians. He was surprised, indeed, that the enemy had not already been reinforced. The Cossack who had ridden up on the morning of his discovery of the bear had no doubt carried instructions from head-quarters. The only conclusion to be drawn was that the Russians were too fully occupied with the Japanese on the farther bank of the Yalu to spare troops for the purpose of wiping out a band of Chunchuses. The Cossack captain, however, had clearly received orders to keep his quarry cornered, either until he starved them out, or until a further force could be sent to his assistance. Such a force might arrive at any moment.

Even while Bob had the possibility in his mind, he saw, clearly defined on the sky-line on the farther side of the valley, a small band of mounted men approaching at a walking pace. The group was too small to be of any avail as a reinforcement, and Bob was wondering who the new-comers could be, when, as they drew nearer, he noticed among them one man on foot, walking with a strangely awkward gait. Intently watching him, he had in a few moments the explanation of his awkwardness: he had his arms tied behind him. Evidently he was a prisoner--some luckless Japanese scout or spy, perhaps, who had fallen into the hands of a Russian patrol, and was now being marched off for summary trial. Bob compared his own case with that of the Japanese, almost to the advantage of the latter, and watched him with mixed feelings until the edge of the hill hid him from sight.

Glancing down, he saw the dead bear still jammed between the rocks; but there was a change in its appearance. Pieces of its fur had been torn away; apparently it had been mauled by some prowling beast of prey. Bob shuddered as he realized what a fate he had himself escaped--when suddenly a thought came to him. The bear had fallen headlong down the precipice. Was it possible that he himself might make a safe and leisurely descent, and, under cover of night, reconnoitre the Russian position? At the back of his mind there was a dim outline of an idea that brought a flush to his cheeks and a light into his eyes. He turned sharp round, hurried through the cavern, and, stopping only to answer a remark from Mrs. Pottle, sought his faithful Chinaman, Ah-Sam.

During the next hour the two were busily engaged at a secluded part of the gully, making the traces from the mule-cart into a long knotted rope, with three loops at intervals, formed of the collars of the animals. There was not enough to construct a ladder, but Bob hoped the rope would prove long enough to let him down from the mouth of the cavern on to the slope, whence the descent to level ground would be easy. When it was complete, he took the only shaft of the cart which had not been demolished for fuel, returned to the cavern, and, evading Mrs. Pottle's eager questions, went quickly with Ah-Sam to the farther end. At the point where the cleft narrowed just before opening out on the hill-face they placed the shaft across from side to side, and then firmly attached the rope to it.

It was not safe to do anything more in the daylight. During the afternoon Bob at last yielded to Mrs. Pottle's entreaties, and related the story of his adventures up to his meeting with her.

"It just beats anything!" exclaimed the lady at its conclusion. "Why, Ethel, what a story it would make!"

"I don't think of that, auntie."

"Well, why not? My pen is rusting for want of work. What do you think, then?"

"I think it is all very strange, and very wonderful," said the girl with a blush. "And very encouraging to us. Mr. Fawcett has come through so much. And I should just love to see that Japanese gentleman,--Kobo, did you call him?"

At dusk Bob returned with Ah-Sam to the farther end of the cavern and let the loose end of the rope dangle down the cliff-side. It fell short of the top of the slope, the spot from which the hapless bear had rebounded, by a distance of apparently some ten feet. On to level ground the drop would have been easy, but on to the slope it might prove fatal to Bob as to the bear. There being no more rope available, only one thing could be done: the length of rope in the cleft above, some four or five yards, must be reduced. Ah-Sam untied the end and reknotted it to the shaft, using less of the rope; then, carefully examining the fissure, Bob discovered that the shaft was just long enough to be jammed vertically between a depression in the floor and a projection in the roof, about a yard from the mouth. When this had been done, he found that the lower end of the rope just touched the slope beneath.

"Allo velly good, massa," said Ah-Sam with an air of satisfaction.

"Yes. Now may it soon be dark. I am going down; you will remain here, and if you feel a tug on the rope, that means that I am coming back."

"My savvy; my no wailo; no fear!"

Waiting until all was dark, Bob let himself over the edge, and by aid of the loops, in which he was able to stand upright, thus resting his arms at intervals, he climbed easily down. When he reached the slope he found that the upper portion of it was steeper than it had appeared above, and he was glad the rope was long enough to enable him to steady his steps down the first few feet. Then he dropped to a sitting posture, and moved cautiously on hands and heels to the bottom. So careful was he to avoid making a noise, by displacing a loose stone or striking the rock too heavily with his boots, that it was nearly ten minutes before the descent was completed.

When at last he rose to his feet, he looked around to take his bearings if possible. Fortunately the clouds that had obscured the sky for some nights past were gone; there was no moon, but a faint radiance from the stars, by which he saw that there was nothing to serve as a landmark save the two upright rocks that framed the mangled body of the bear. Carefully noting the position of these in relation to an irregular fissure in which there still lay a drift of snow--all snow on the surrounding hillside being now melted--he turned his back on the steep cliff and skirted round the rugged spur that hid the mouth of the cavern from observers below. This spur, though only a few yards wide at the summit, increased in width as it approached the level until it measured fully fifty yards at the base.

Groping his way slowly among the loose stones and boulders that had fallen from the rocky face of the hill, he struck somewhat to the right, away from the mouth of the gully, knowing that there the enemy would be alert to prevent the besieged from breaking through. His object was to gain the open ground and then to make a circuit of the Russian position.

After a time the less frequency with which he encountered boulders showed that he was passing into the open valley. Suddenly he became aware of a dull glow in the distance on his left. He was unable to see whence it proceeded, but, as it was doubtless due to a camp fire, it was necessary to take double precautions lest his figure should be thrown up in relief against it and thus become visible to the Russians on the hill, if any chanced to be there. Inclining still more to the right, he almost turned his back to the faint light, and took a direction which he calculated would bring him to the extreme left of the hilltop position first held by the enemy. This post, he guessed, was probably left at nightfall and resumed at dawn, but it would be unwise to run the risk of passing between it and the glow he had noticed; he must make his way round it.

Pausing a moment, he scanned the sky above him for a bright star by which to set his course, then set off again, counting his paces. In daylight he had estimated that the summit of the hill was nearly half a mile in a straight line from the mouth of the gully; the distance would be greater over the uneven ground, and still greater from his starting-point. Every now and then he stopped to listen and look round. When he had counted some three hundred paces, the source of the glow at last became visible. On his left there were two fires some distance apart, with a few men moving about them, standing out for a moment black against the glow, then appearing red as they passed to the side, then vanishing altogether. From the position of the fires Bob guessed that they stood just under the hillside on the far side of the gully. There could be no doubt that they marked the site of the enemy's camp; and they were so near the barricade that if the besieged ventured to make a sortie they would not only have to reckon with the force on duty at the mouth of the gully, but also with a flank attack from the main body encamped a few yards away.

In the darkness it was impossible for Bob to tell when he had reached the summit of the hill. But he stopped at intervals to look back, and when he found that first one then the other fire gradually disappeared from sight, he judged that between them and him the brow of the hill intervened. At this point it was necessary to take another star as his guide. Turning now to the left, almost at right angles with his former course, he plodded warily on, skirting the hill not far from the summit, the fires appearing and disappearing with the inequalities of the crest. Though he kept eyes and ears keenly alert for sound or sight of the enemy, he neither heard nor saw any trace of them except at the camp fires. Continuing his course as nearly straight as he could, he came at length opposite the farthermost fire; then he turned again to the left, and moving with still greater caution, he made straight towards it. He was now descending a gradual slope. The fire was burning low; backed by the slope he thought he might venture still nearer; so, dropping on all-fours, he crawled for some distance over the ground, sodden with melted snow, until he stopped at length within some eighty yards of the fire. A little in front of him he heard the gurgling of the stream from the gully running across the face of the two camps. In the dim glow he saw by their dress that the occupants of the camp opposite him were Cossacks; the other camp was clearly that of the Manchus. He threw a glance round the position; a little in advance of him, to the right, he descried a number of dark forms, which he soon concluded were the picketed horses of the enemy. Two sentries were on duty, walking to and fro some forty yards from the outermost row of tents, and meeting about the middle of the exposed face of the camp. Beyond, Bob caught a glimpse of the figure of a Manchu patrolling in the same way opposite his camp. The Manchus' horses were not at the moment in sight, but a sudden replenishment of the fire caused a bright flame to spring up, making Bob lie absolutely motionless and almost hold his breath, at the same time throwing up the figures of the horses tethered just under the hill.

He had now learnt all that was possible about the enemy's position. As soon as the fire had died down again he might retrace his steps. He lay still on his face, waiting, letting his eyes range at random, when suddenly he gave a violent start. A little to the left of the horses, beside a tall bare sapling, stood a man whom he perceived, as he looked more closely, to be bound to the stem. He wore the dress of a Chinaman. The fitful flame from the Manchus' fire cast a lurid light upon the face of the prisoner, and with a feeling of dismay Bob recognized him: it was Kobo!

It flashed upon him at once: this was the prisoner he had seen among the fresh band of Manchus that morning. Kobo had been captured at last. His doom was sealed--unless he could be rescued. Bob almost sprang up in his excitement. How could he make his presence known to his friend? By his bearing he saw that he was awake. If he could communicate with him perhaps some means of effecting his escape would offer. Kobo had dared much for him--to Kobo he owed his own escape from the spy's fate; how eagerly would he do something in return for Kobo!

He lay watching, thinking, hoping that by some lucky chance he might be enabled to approach the prisoner. He dared not move. The minutes flew by, the fire was sinking; in a few moments it would again be replenished, and his position again be imperilled. He saw not the shadow of an opportunity of assisting Kobo. For the present he must give up the idea. Crawling back slowly and stealthily he reached a point where it would be safe to rise. Then, finding the star by which he had steered his course, he made his way toilsomely, reluctantly, up the hill again.

This time he took a shorter circuit inside his first track, and on the nearer slope of the hill, until he came to a spot which he thought must be opposite the opening of the cleft. But how could he make sure? If he swerved too far to the right and blundered upon the breastwork at the entrance to the gully his life was not worth a moment's purchase, and the safety of his party would be fatally jeopardized. Pausing in his incertitude, he bethought him of the fact that the enemy's watch-fires might be used to determine his rightful course. So long as they were out of sight, obviously he would be in no danger of coming upon the breastwork, though he might find himself perilously near it if he happened to hit the spur at the mouth of the gully. Fetching a wider circuit he abruptly altered his direction, looking anxiously at the fires in the hope that they would by and by be concealed from him by the prominent spur. It was a long time before either disappeared, and more than once he feared lest, after all, he had turned too early to the right. But at length first one, then the other, was hidden from his view, and against the penumbra of their glow the spur stood out dark upon his right. He gave a sigh of relief, and stopped for a moment to wipe the perspiration from his brow.

He steered now towards a point somewhat to the left of the bluff's jagged outline, until he came close beneath it. Then he turned sharp to the left, to find the slope up which he must climb to reach the fissure. For some minutes he stumbled about. The night was darker than ever, but he knew that his general direction was right, for the ground became rougher and the loose stones more numerous. At last, close at hand, he recognized the tall twin rocks imprisoning the bear. Swarming up the steep slope on hands and knees, he came to the top, and stretched out his right hand, moving it from side to side to feel for the dangling rope. He touched it, caught it, gave it a gentle tug. He felt it tighten. Ah-Sam had faithfully remained at his post above. Then with straining muscles he scrambled up; he reached the fissure and Ah-Sam's welcoming hands.

"My tinkey Roshians hab catchee," said the Chinaman.

"Not yet, Ah-Sam. Pull up the rope, then follow me back to the ladies."

Soon darkness and silence brooded upon the rugged hillside. The blinking stars saw nothing; no sound broke the stillness save when at midnight a hungry wolf came padding to the foot of the slope, and snarled as he fixed his fangs in the carcase of the bear.

*CHAPTER XVIII*

*Rushing a Cossack Camp*

Panic--To the Yalu--Hill Paths--Historic Ground--An Introduction--A Man-Hunt--First Aid--Approaching the Ford--Mrs. Pottle Decides

At dead of night, the eyes of a lynx, but none other, might have seen a rope dangling heavily from the mouth of the fissure high up the cliff. If the animal had not been scared away, it would have seen a dark form in cautious silence climbing down the rope--a man, with a rifle slung upon his back. He reached the slope and waited. A few moments afterwards a second man followed, and, guided by the first, arrived at the foot of the slope, interrupting the supper of the half-gorged wolf. The first man returned to the summit, and met a third man descending, whom he stationed half-way down the incline. These movements he repeated until he was able, without descending himself, to pass each new-comer down from hand to hand. When fifty men had thus descended, and were assembled on the level, the first man led them with the same silence and caution among the fallen boulders until they came to open ground. Then he halted, and stationing his companions some three paces apart one from another, took from his pocket a long piece of thin twisted cotton and passed it down the line, each man gripping it with his left hand.

Taking the end of the cotton in his own hand, the leader moved forward, followed by the rest, along a track approximating as closely as possible to that which he had taken some six hours before. Every now and then he gave a slight tug at the line; his followers at once stopped, while he took stock of his surroundings. He came to a spot whence he expected to obtain a view of the enemy's camp. It was almost invisible, for the fires were very low. Skirting the farther side of the hill-crest, the long queue of men at length reached the utmost horn of the crescent track. By the leader the forms of the Russian sentries could be dimly seen pacing to and fro. Counting off ten men from the right of the line, he left the remaining forty in position before the Russian camp, and proceeded with the ten to a point under the hill some distance farther on in their course. Then creeping forward, he waited till the nearest sentry's steps began to recede, then stole on again, still holding the cord, his men still following, until he came within a few yards of the sentry's beat. Just as he reached this spot his foot struck against some obstacle; he staggered, recovered himself with an effort, and stooped to discover what had checked his progress. It was a prostrate body. Instantly he clapped his hand upon the fallen man's mouth, lest he should cry out. Something in the touch suggested a suspicion. He placed his hand over the man's heart; it had ceased to beat.

The next moment he himself was prone upon the ground, and the ten men with him did as he did, and lay side by side, motionless. The sentry, suspecting nothing, tramped back along his beat, came to the end, wheeled round, and once more receded. Bob rose to a stooping position, and, followed closely by his ten, crept forward across the sentry's track towards the tethered horses. From one there was a whinny, from another a snort as the men approached; otherwise not a sound. The silent ten passed round the animals, coming between them and the hill. Suddenly there sounded a cry, the challenge of a sentry. Instantly Bob fired his pistol and dashed forward towards the smouldering fire, which he stirred with a kick into a bright blaze. A moment later there was a shout, a clamour, a babel from the end of the camp. The firing of the pistol had been the pre-arranged signal for a rush by the forty. It was instantly obeyed. The Russians, half-awake, struggled to their feet, to find one force between them and their horses, and another, a larger shouting band, sweeping upon them in front. In wild confusion and affright they ran this way and that; many made no attempt even to seize their rifles; they broke towards the mouth of the gully, their flying forms making admirable targets in the firelight.

Meanwhile Bob hurried towards the tree to which he had seen Kobo bound, fearing lest some undesigned shot should do him mischief. To his amazement the prisoner was gone. There was no time to speculate upon his disappearance. Without a halt he dashed forward, his ten men following with loud cries in his track across the low shelter-tents, cooking utensils, abandoned rifles and lances, and the various impedimenta of a small camp. The raiders met with almost no resistance, and the Russians, as they fled in panic towards the barricade, swept through the startled Manchu camp and carried its occupants with them. The men stationed on the breastwork at the mouth of the gully stood to arms, bewildered by the sudden outcries and onrush; but when they were suddenly attacked from the rear by the small force of Chunchuses Bob had left in the gully, they also broke and fled with the rest outwards across the low hills, pursued in the darkness by the exultant brigands. At Bob's orders Ah-Sam, the first of his ten, shouted to the Chunchuses to return; nothing was to be gained by pushing the pursuit farther. But the command was vain; only three or four answered to the summons, the rest were intent upon paying off old scores.

Amid the rout the Manchus' horses had stampeded; but the better-trained animals of the Cossacks remained, and over these Bob set a guard. Then he had the camp fires replenished as beacons for his own men, and awaited their return. In twos and threes during the next half-hour they straggled in. They brought no prisoners; but through Ah-Sam Bob learnt that many a Cossack and many a Manchu lay between the camp and the hill. Already Bob had collected some ninety rifles abandoned by the fugitives, and set men to gather what ammunition they could. Scattered as the enemy now were over the face of the country, most of them without arms, all probably without horses, rushing blindly onward in the dark, he felt that little was to be feared from them. His principal danger was lest a reinforcement should be on the way to join them, or lest the news of the surprise or the appearance of the stampeded horses should bring up in hot haste some Russian force in the neighbourhood.

It was imperative that the victors should make good their retreat as soon as possible. They had captured enough horses to mount the whole force, and in the camps had been found a sufficient supply of food to last for several days. Ordering the men, through Ah-Sam, to carry into the gully all that they could lay hands on, and to lead the horses up through gaps in the barricade, Bob went to find Sing-Cheng, to discuss the situation with him.

As he reached the breastwork there was brought to nim a wounded Manchu, who had been discovered hiding behind the rocks. Bob at once set Ah-Sam to question him, enquiring specially about the Chinaman whom he had seen tied to the tree. He learnt that, two days before, Chang-Wo had come into the camp after escaping from the gully, and had a long conversation with the Cossack captain. He had then ridden away eastward. During his absence the Chinaman had been brought in, and as there was reason to believe he was a Japanese spy, he had been tied up until he could be conveyed to head-quarters. The Manchu was amazed to hear that the prisoner had escaped. It was incomprehensible.

When Bob with some difficulty found Sing-Cheng, and asked him what he advised, the man replied that he had no fear of the Russians, but he did fear Chang-Wo. He was a very great man, very powerful, very cunning. A vast number of Manchus were at his beck and call; his fastness lay only two days' march in the hills. It was surprising that he had not already brought his bandits in overwhelming force to storm the gully. Bob suggested as a reason that a large Russian reinforcement was expected. There was little chance of booty if the Chunchuses were overcome, and Chang-Wo would prefer that the Russians should bear the brunt rather than risk losing a considerable number of his own men. The chief admitted that this might be the reason; but he pointed out that Chang-Wo, his own capture rankling in his mind, would have a strong personal interest in the destruction of the garrison of the gully. If he had gone to his headquarters to fetch more men, he might at any moment arrive on the scene, with a force numbering anything from three to five hundred. Clearly no time must be lost in getting beyond his reach.