KOBO (continued 5)

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.

Bob asked whether Sing-Cheng was ready to fulfil his promise to escort the party across the Yalu. The man professed his eagerness to do so, if the honourable foreign gentleman would lend him his continued assistance. He himself felt that he was in a dangerous predicament. If he went westward he would run the risk of falling in with the Russians; if eastward, he would almost certainly meet Chang-Wo. Northward the way was blocked by high hills. The only possible course lay to the south, and that led direct to the Russian positions on the Yalu. But he knew of a difficult and little-used path over the mountains by which they might travel. It would bring them out at a point where the river might be forded, and where such Russian troops as might be in the neighbourhood would probably be merely small detached forces engaged in watching the fords and passes. Bob enquired whether the man was sure of the way. The man replied that he knew every step of it.

"Then we will chance it," said Bob. "Ah-Sam, tell him to get his men in order, ready to start the moment there is light enough to see the way. I will go and prepare the ladies."

Mrs. Pottle almost flung her arms round Bob's neck when he appeared.

"My dear boy," she exclaimed, "we have been in a terrible state of alarm about you. What have you been doing?"

Bob gave her a brief account of the rushing of the enemy's camp—successful even beyond his highest hopes.

"Why, there!" said the lady at the conclusion of his story. "I told you, Ethel, that Mr. Fawcett would prove equal to the occasion. Mr. Fawcett, you are lost as an engineer, you ought to be a soldier. When we get within reach of the telegraph, I shall wire a full account of you to my paper, and I guess there'll be a competition for your services in some capacity or other in my country."

"Auntie, Mr. Fawcett must be very tired," said Ethel. "Is there any tea left?"

"Of course. Dear me, how thoughtless! Mr. Fawcett, you shall have a cup of tea in five minutes."

"And you will explain to us what is to be done next, won't you?" added Ethel.

At the first streak of dawn a long cavalcade stole out of the gully. The brigand chief led the way, mounted on a strong Korean pony. Behind him came half his men; then the ladies, for whom side-saddles had been improvised; after them the remainder of the force, all on horse-back. Sufficient provisions had been found in the Russian camp to give them all the good meal so much needed. Bob rode at one time ahead with the chief, at another with the ladies, who were in high spirits now that the tension of the last few days was relaxed. He was with them as they rode past the scene of the midnight sally, and endeavoured to distract their attention from the terrible evidences of the fray.

Sing-Cheng led the party across the crest of the hill on which the Russians had first posted themselves, and struck off in a direction approximately south-west. As they rode, a chain of mountains came into view in the distance, the foot-hills beginning about three miles off. The cavalcade made towards a dip in these hills, and after covering several miles of rising ground, approached what appeared to be an almost perpendicular wall of rock. Not till they came within a few yards of it did the strangers see a possibility of penetrating the apparent obstruction. Taking his course unerringly, the chief led them in single file along a narrow giddy footpath zigzagging up the face of the cliff. The horses had much ado to keep their footing, but they were used to the mountains and carried the whole party up without mishap. At the worst of the road Bob and Ah-Sam both dismounted and led the ladies' horses; the former guessed from Mrs. Pottle's look of terror as she rounded awkward corners and skirted sheer precipices, that her passion for travel would be cooled for many a day.

After half an hour's difficult climb the fugitives reached a height whence they obtained a distant prospect of the late battle-ground, spread like a map in the bright sunlight behind them. Then they turned a bend in the path, and the scene was shut from their view. The chief still led on among rugged hills, with no sign of habitation. At one time they were at the bottom of a ravine; an hour later they were toilsomely scaling the steep face of a cliff, which from the base appeared impossible to climb. The horses were fresh when they started, and plodded along steadily. Except for short intervals for food and rest the march was continued uninterruptedly till dusk, and then Bob and Sing-Cheng selected a strong position for camping—a spot sheltered from the wind, that blew colder towards night. Sentries were placed around the camp, but the hours of darkness passed without alarm. There was as yet no sign of pursuit.

Next morning the march was resumed, and continued through similar inhospitable country until about three o'clock in the afternoon. Then, just as the riders were climbing what appeared to be the highest peak they had yet met with, the chief came to a sudden halt, sprang from his horse, and made signs for the rest of the party to follow his example. He said a few words rapidly to his men; then, beckoning Bob and Ah-Sam to accompany him, went forward cautiously on foot towards the skyline just above.

As they gained the crest, a fine panorama opened before them. At a distance which Bob roughly guessed at five miles, they saw a broad river crossing the plain from east to west, at one point broadening into the semblance of a lake dotted with islands. Hills of varying height shut off stretches of the river at intervals. On the other side the chief pointed out a cluster of dwellings just discernible amid a light ground haze.

"Wiju," he said.

Bob looked at the town with interest, remembering his unpleasant associations with the place. Below, to the left, between the spectators and the river, which it shut from their view, was a steep eminence which the chief called Hushan.

"He callum Tiger Hill," explained Ah-Sam.

"What is that?" asked Bob, pointing to a smaller river on their right, winding among the hills and disappearing behind Tiger Hill in the direction of the Yalu.

"Ai-ho," said the chief.

Beyond the Ai-ho, between that river and the Yalu, was a town which, though it appeared larger than Wiju, Bob judged to be somewhat smaller in reality, for it lay much nearer to his point of observation.

"Kiu-lien-cheng," explained the chief, in answer to Bob's mute question. Bob remembered that this place had played an important part in the China war. It was, moreover, the scene of Kobo's exploit, when his company had the honour of being first in the town. Beyond Kiu-lien-cheng on the river, but shut from sight by intervening hills, lay Antung, a place of bitter memories to Bob. Looking towards Wiju he could see small black moving bodies, which were no doubt companies or regiments moving about the town; and beyond it, he descried a long line of carts filing towards it from the north. He scanned the whole landscape with interest and care. The first great operation in the Japanese land campaign must obviously be the crossing of the Yalu; it would probably take place within the next few weeks, with the beginning of spring. Where would the decisive action be fought? If the Japanese army attempted to effect a crossing anywhere in the country outspread beneath him, they would have indeed a hard nut to crack. The rugged country to the north of the Yalu seemed to offer ideal conditions for defence, and Bob was convinced that the Russian engineers would have taken full advantage of the natural features.

"A very strong position, Mr. Fawcett."

The words so exactly corresponded with his unspoken thought that for a moment he was scarcely aware that they had been uttered by another. Then he turned with a start, saw that Ah-Sam and the chief had their rifles up and their fingers already at the triggers, and, following their upward gaze, noticed the figure of a short, sturdy Chinaman between two rocks above his head. Even as he looked Ah-Sam dropped his rifle and said something to Sing-Cheng, and with a second glance Bob understood. He went forward eagerly with outstretched hand.

"Kobo San! You don't know how glad I am to see you," he said warmly. "Are you all right? How in the world did you escape?"

"I will tell you," replied Kobo. "But, pardon me, I am terribly hungry. Have you a little rice to spare?"

"Ah-Sam," said Bob, "run back and ask Mrs. Pottle to prepare a meal for a friend of mine. You shall have something in five minutes. Upon my word, Kobo San, I am glad to see you. I hoped you had got away safely, but the uncertainty—"

"You seem to know of my capture."

"Ah! The tables are turned this time. I am only sorry you didn't give me the chance to rescue you. But come, let me take you to the ladies. They will be delighted to see you."

"Pardon me, did you say Mrs. Pottle?"

"Yes; do you know her?"

"She is at present the subject of diplomatic correspondence between the United States and Japan," said Kobo, with a smile. "She is the widow of Mr. Isidore G. Pottle, I presume; I knew him."

"How strange! But come, you must be famished."

Kobo walked slowly down the incline. Bob noticed that he limped.

"Are you hurt, sir?" he asked.

"A slight touch in one foot."

"A sprain, perhaps. This is very rough walking."

"No, it was a Manchu bullet."

"Good heavens! You must be in terrible pain. Let me help you."

"It is nothing—a scratch."

But Bob knew from the manner in which he set his foot upon the ground that the hurt was not so insignificant as Kobo would have him believe. Fortunately a few yards' walk brought them to the spot where the rest of the party had halted.

"Mrs. Pottle, let me introduce a friend of mine—Rokuro Kobo San."

Kobo bowed, and Mrs. Pottle, throwing a hasty glance over his costume, jumped to a conclusion, and said cordially:

"Very muchee gladee meetee you, sir."

"I am indeed honoured, madam," returned Kobo, bowing again ceremoniously with impassive face. Bob and Ethel had instinctively turned aside to conceal their amusement; and Mrs. Pottle, with a surprised and startled glance at the supposed Chinaman, began haltingly:

"I beg your pardon—but—"

"I am a Japanese, madam. I think I once met your esteemed husband, Mr. Isidore G. Pottle."

"Well!"

Mrs. Pottle was too much amazed for further words. To cover her embarrassment; she ordered Ah-Sam with a flourish of her umbrella to bring the food he had been preparing, and Kobo fell to with avidity, explaining that he had eaten nothing for nearly two days. When he had satisfied his hunger, explanations were exchanged. Kobo's story, told in his quiet unemotional way, made a strong impression upon the ladies, Mrs. Pottle frequently exclaiming, "It's wonderful! It's wonderful!"

At Liao-yang, he explained, he had made a discovery that promised to be of great importance to his government. It was worth risking something to convey the news with all speed to General Kuroki, and he decided to take the shortest cut, the main road through Feng-huang-cheng, Kiu-lien-cheng, and Wiju, frequented though it was, trusting in his disguise as a Chinese merchant to escape detection. To guard against accident, he had sent his man Taru with an oral message by way of Yongampo, hoping that in any case he would succeed in crossing the Yalu near its mouth.

Provided with unexceptionable papers, he himself had journeyed without interference until he had come some distance beyond Feng-huang-cheng. Then, however, he was overtaken by a party of two Cossacks and three Manchus, who stopped him and put him through a close interrogation. One of the Manchus caught him by the pigtail, and, being, dissatisfied with his replies, gave that ornament a vicious tug. It came away in his hand. The Manchu's suspicions were redoubled, though it is not unusual for a Chinaman whose locks are scanty to wear a false pigtail. Kobo was made prisoner, and carried with the party, who struck off eastward from the high-road into the hills. From scraps of their conversation he gathered that they had been sent to bring help to a Russian force, he could not tell how large, which was bent on routing out a band of Chunchuses entrenched in a mountain fastness, but that they had been unsuccessful in their errand, the Russians being unable to spare troops for the purpose. The men discussed among themselves the result of their failure. Clearly it would be necessary for the chief of the Manchus to send for men from his own head-quarters three marches away, a course which for some reason or other they supposed he would be reluctant to adopt. But Chang-Wo, as they named him, had sworn to exterminate this particular gang of bandits; they had for long been a thorn in his side; and he had now additional reasons for his venomous hatred of them, for they had captured him and held him a prisoner until he escaped by slipping his bonds and killing a sentry.

Kobo was brought into the Russian and Manchu camp and carried before the officer. Chang-Wo happened to be with them. He instantly recognized the Japanese he had so good reason for hating, and demanded that he should be put to the torture. But on being asked for his reasons, he had shown by his own admissions, reluctant as they were, that the prisoner was too important a man to be summarily dealt with; his vindictive wishes had been overruled by the Cossack captain, who resolved to carry the Japanese to Feng-huang-cheng as soon as the Chunchuses were disposed of. In his eagerness to wreak vengeance on his old enemy, Chang-Wo resolved to fetch reinforcements from his stronghold and hasten the final discomfiture of the Chunchuses, and set out the same day.

"But how did you escape?" asked Bob. "I saw you tied to a tree."

"We had an agent in the Manchu camp," replied Kobo quietly. "He cut my ropes after dark, and I slipped away. There was a commotion immediately afterwards; but it was dark, no one could find me."

Bob remembered the dead Manchu whom he had stumbled upon outside the Russian camp. Evidently this was Kobo's agent. He had met his death through rescuing Kobo; and Kobo spoke coldly of a commotion!

After his escape, Kobo had pushed on eastward during the night, and at dawn was several miles from the scene. He continued his journey until mid-day, and then had the ill-luck to be sighted by a band of Manchus—the men whom Chang-Wo himself was bringing towards the Russian camp. Instantly the whole band of four hundred were at his heels. For three hours they chased him among the hills. Being mounted, sometimes they had the advantage, at others their horses were only an encumbrance. But Kobo was faint with hunger and fatigue. They gained on him slowly but surely. The nature of the country did not give him an opportunity of eluding them. More than once they could easily have shot him, and that they did not do so indicated that Chang-Wo had ordered that he should be taken alive, reserving for him, doubtless, a slower and more horrible death. At last he was almost run down; Chang-Wo and half a dozen men were but a short distance behind him, leading their horses up a rocky path too steep and rugged for them to ride. Kobo knew that as soon as they were able to remount he must be overtaken; capture seemed inevitable. He looked round anxiously, almost despairingly, for a means of escape. On the far side of the ravine he was skirting he saw a rocky ledge jutting out, approaching within a short distance of the path he was travelling, then receding again. The sight was as a ray of hope. To leap across the chasm involved a terrible risk; the descent between ledge and ledge was a sheer hundred feet, and if he missed his footing he must be dashed to pieces. In a moment he took his resolution. Collecting his remaining strength he jumped. His feet lighted on the projecting ledge. For an instant he swayed, and his life hung in the balance—an inch forward, an inch backward, would mean life or death. The crisis was but momentary. He stumbled forward, he was safe.

Meanwhile the pursuers were hastening up the opposite path. They came to the spot whence Kobo had made his desperate leap; and though Chang-Wo stormed and cursed, not one of them would face the risk. To reach their quarry in any other way would involve a long detour, meanwhile he every moment increased his distance from them. Then Chang-Wo raised his rifle and fired. His shot struck Kobo in the foot.

At this point of the story Ethel rose quietly and slipped away.

In spite of the wound, Kobo had tramped on until dusk. He had had no food, he had travelled almost without rest for a whole day and night, yet he could not afford to delay. Until he reached the Japanese head-quarters he would be in constant danger; and it was a matter of the most urgent necessity that he should give to General Kuroki the information he had gained. He rested for a few hours, cold, hungry, in increasing pain. He bandaged his injured foot as well as he could, then with morning light set off again.

"I count myself fortunate that I met you, Mr. Fawcett," he said. "You can perhaps assist me with a horse. I must press on, there is so much risk that my servant Taru will fail to get through."

There was no complaint—no further reference to his wound. He showed no curiosity as to how Bob had known of his capture, nor as to the strange company in which he found him. His mind was entirely possessed by anxiety lest the news should not reach his general.

Unnoticed by Bob, Ethel had now returned, carrying a tin can belonging to Ah-Sam filled with water. She said a few words to Mrs. Pottle, and that lady at once came forward.

"Now, sir, will you allow me to attend to your foot? You cannot go on like that. Kindly take off your shoe."

Mrs. Pottle's manner was not to be denied. In a few minutes she had deftly bandaged the wounded foot, winning a very courtly speech of thanks. Then Kobo was given one of the led horses, and the whole party moved forward, taking care to avoid the risk of being seen on the skyline. As they rode, Bob gave Kobo an account of his experiences since they had parted at the hut some ten days before, and Mrs. Pottle found an opportunity not only to praise Bob's skill and resourcefulness, but also to enquire into the circumstances in which Kobo San had met her late husband, Mr. Isidore G. Pottle.

The course of the party was now due east, parallel with the Yalu. Sing-Cheng was anxious to strike the river at a ford known to him, several miles above Wiju. It was not likely to be held in strength by the Russians unless the Japanese were close up to the river, which seemed improbable. It might be guarded by a small detachment; in that case the whole party must be prepared to make a rush and take their chance. In the evening they met two Manchu peasants, whom they eagerly questioned in the hope of obtaining definite information; but nothing could be got from them. Kobo suggested that as a precaution it would be advisable to keep these peasants with them. Accordingly they were forced to accompany the party during the rest of their march.

At dark they encamped in the hills within about two miles of the ford. No fire was lighted, and the utmost silence was enjoined. Bob did what he could for the comfort of the ladies, who showed wonderful pluck and spirit under the long strain they were enduring. Double guards were posted to provide against the chance of surprise during the night. The repose of the camp was undisturbed. Nevertheless Bob was very anxious. He walked restlessly around the camp, listening, peering, reflecting. Kobo insisted on taking his share of duty, allowing Bob to snatch a little sleep. He too was restless, and appeared frequently to strain his ears in the attitude of closest attention. Mrs. Pottle and Ethel slept soundly through the night—for the first time, they said, since their flight from Mukden. The knowledge that Korea was now so near at hand had given them renewed hope of at length reaching safety, and, great as was their confidence in Bob, they seemed to have gained additional assurance from the presence of Kobo, whom Ethel in particular looked at with admiration and awe.

During those hours of darkness, in a depression of the hills little more than a mile away, lay Chang-Wo, with four hundred of his Manchu braves. Only the accident of a convenient camping-ground had led him to halt just in time to miss discovering the fugitives' camp. Even now an incautious shout, a flicker of light, an accidental shot sounding in the still air of these mountain solitudes, would bring him down upon his quarry like a beast of prey. Neither Bob nor Kobo so much as suspected the proximity of this ruthless foe; yet his presence was reflected in their strange uneasiness.

In the dark hours before dawn, Bob and Kobo discussed the situation with the brigand chief. All were agreed that if the ford was to be rushed it must be as soon as day broke. About an hour before sunrise, therefore, the camp was roused in complete silence, and the party moved cautiously towards the Yalu. The same order of march was observed as had held since their departure from the gully, except that Bob and Ah-Sam now rode in front with Sing-Cheng, leaving the ladies in Kobo's care. For half an hour they marched on; then Bob, whose anxiety increased as they drew nearer to the river, suggested that two or three should go forward on foot in advance of the rest, to make sure that the coast was clear. On second thoughts he decided to go himself in company with Ah-Sam and the chief. He informed Kobo of his intention. The Japanese at once assented, and said that he would halt the party until Bob returned.

The three then stole forward. The sky to their left was just faintly alit with the dawn when they heard the rush of water before them. Following the track which the chief knew well, they came at length to the river, at a point about half a mile below the ford. There was not yet light enough to reconnoitre farther without danger; they therefore took shelter behind a clump of bush and waited for a few minutes. Then they went forward again, with still greater caution, all their faculties alert.

Almost immediately an alarming surprise broke upon them. A few yards beneath them they saw a Russian outpost. A little farther on, encamped near the bank of the river, was a large Russian force, consisting chiefly of cavalry, but including several infantry regiments, and a still larger force occupied the farther bank. Nothing but the fact that the Russians feared no enemy behind them had saved Bob's party from falling into their hands. Even now it was only too clear that the fugitives' case was desperate. It was hopeless to attempt the ford. With some thousands of Russians on each side of the river, scouting parties would doubtless be out in all directions. The presence of Russians in such force seemed to indicate that they were being driven across the Yalu by the advance of the Japanese, so that it would be impossible to get over the river lower down. On the high road through Wiju, moreover, the main body of the Russian army was probably in full retreat. Russians would be swarming in all directions. What was to be done? The chief looked at Bob with dismay. Had they come so far only to be captured after all?

"Let us go back to the others," said Bob quietly.

Kobo received the bad news with the calmness that characterized him. He put a few sharp questions to Sing-Cheng, then turning to Bob said:

"There is another ford, he says, higher up the river. He knows the path to it. It is difficult, more precipitous even than the one by which we have come. But we must take the risk. I advise, however, that the ladies should go forward under escort, and claim the protection of the Russians. Among so large a force they would enjoy a security that could not be expected in the case of the small party with Chang-Wo's band."

Bob looked round. The ladies were at a little distance. Both showed signs of the hardships they had recently endured. Mrs. Pottle was thinner; her cheeks were lined and careworn; the aggressiveness of her attitude had quite disappeared. Her niece was not so much altered; but Bob had noticed with anxiety the growing paleness of her fair cheeks, the strained look in her eyes. He went up to the two, and in a few words explained the difficulties of the situation, concluding with the recommendation that they should follow Kobo's advice. For a few moments Mrs. Pottle wavered; she looked at Ethel with a tremulousness all the more pathetic because so foreign to her.

"Auntie," said Ethel, "I think we ought to remain with Mr. Fawcett. I am sure we shall get through. We are nearly there. What a pity to give up at the last!"

"Yes," returned the elder lady emphatically, "you are right. It is good of you, Mr. Fawcett, but we cannot hear of it. We won't be bundled over to the Russians. We are ready to go with you: when will you start?"

CHAPTER XIX

Sound and Fury

Across the Yalu—Kobo gives Counsel—A Monastery—A Buddhist Settlement—Big Bobbely—An Attack at Dusk—A Pyrrhic Victory—Boanerges—A Despatch—"A Terrible Curse"

In a few minutes the whole party set off to retrace their steps, riding for a short distance over their tracks, then striking off in a new direction under the leadership of Sing-Cheng. But the difficulties of the march were even greater than the man had indicated. At almost every step the party were confronted by a new danger. The path was so rugged that riding was impossible. All had to dismount and lead their horses. A single false step might carry horse and pedestrian over the edge of a precipice and dash them to pieces hundreds of feet below. Bob thought his hair would have turned white with the anxiety of watching over the ladies, guiding them at every turn, diverting their attention whenever the path led over more than usually dizzy eminences. They struggled on with heroic determination; and Bob spared them the knowledge that before the day was out two of the Chunchuses in the long line had missed their footing and fallen headlong to their death.

Struggling on painfully, the party covered nearly twenty miles that day, encamping at nightfall on the north bank of the river. The chief was eager to cross by the ford at once, but Bob was unwilling to risk the dangers of a crossing in the darkness, and without having assured himself that the Russians were not here also. Before it was light he stole down with Sing-Cheng to reconnoitre. There was no sign of the enemy; and at daybreak the whole party started with unutterable gladness to complete, as they hoped, the last stage of their journey.

Before they reached the river one of the Manchu peasants who had been captured, seizing a favourable moment, felled the man in charge of him and scrambled down an almost perpendicular declivity. A dozen shots followed him before Bob could interfere to stop the fusillade. The sound of the shots echoed and re-echoed over the hills; they must be heard by any Russians who happened to be in the neighbourhood, and if heard they would certainly bring the enemy upon the track. For several miles Bob turned at intervals anxiously to look back; there was no sign of pursuit. But, unknown to him, ten minutes after the unfortunate incident a Manchu had galloped up to the spot where the firing had taken place, and there, hidden behind a rock, had watched the disappearing tail of the procession. His fierce eyes lit up as he looked. In a few moments he was galloping back. The Manchu was Chang-Wo.

The cavalcade crossed the river. It was a question of the direction they should take. There were probably Russians between them and the Japanese lines, it would therefore be well for them to strike south-east in order to give the enemy as wide a berth as possible. Bob pointed out that this would probably cause the loss of a day; but Kobo replied that he would rather lose one day, or even two, than run the risk of his information never reaching General Kuroki. Bob noticed that the safety of himself or of the party never entered into Kobo's calculations. With him it was merely a weighing of advantages, with the sole consideration how best his news might be delivered.

On the south side of the Yalu the fugitives saw on all hands traces of the Russian occupation. Almost every village had been sacked and burned; the country was for the most part deserted; the few Koreans who were seen wandering in disconsolate helplessness about the sites of their ruined homes scuttled away in terror when Bob's cavalcade approached. They were evidently afraid lest the party should be a band of raiders come to capture and destroy the little that the Russians had left.

No precaution was neglected to save the party from coming upon the enemy unawares. Pickets and supports were thrown out in front and rear, and the pace was regulated by the careful reconnoitring of the advance guard. The march continued for six or seven hours, and then was interrupted by a short halt to rest and feed the horses. About one o'clock, shortly after they had started again, one of the men in advance galloped back with the news that he had seen a force of Cossacks crossing the line of march from east to west about a mile ahead. Word was at once given to halt again, in order to allow this body time to pass out of sight. Bob, accompanied by Sing-Cheng and Ah-Sam, went forward, and, taking his stand behind a rock so that he could not be seen, looked out, and saw the troop of horsemen, plainly Cossacks by their yellow facings, winding among the hills, apparently striking across from Chen-seng, as the chief explained, higher up the river, to Wiju. In a quarter of an hour they would have disappeared, and it would be safe for the fugitives to continue their advance.

Bob was just returning with this good news to his party, when he was met by a messenger hastening to tell him that a large force of cavalry had been seen coming up behind, and were at the present moment no more than two miles away. He put his horse to a gallop, debating within himself, as he rode, what to do in face of this new emergency. For a moment he felt oppressed by a sense of despair. The events of the past fortnight had put a great strain upon him, and the present dilemma, coming at a time when he had hoped that all was safe, was almost overmastering. But collecting his thoughts he tried to look the situation squarely in the face. If he pressed on, he ran the risk of bringing upon him the Cossacks whom he had just seen out of harm's way. If he hesitated, he must assuredly be overtaken by the cavalry behind, which in all likelihood would turn out to be Chang-Wo's band. There was danger either way. He had not made up his mind how to choose between the two alternatives when he reached the rest of his party.

"What are we to do, sir?" he asked Kobo, after telling him of the direction in which the Cossacks had disappeared.

"I advise an immediate advance," replied the Japanese, whose serenity always had a bracing effect upon Bob. "If the Cossacks see us, they may mistake us for Manchu allies of theirs. We shall at any rate be a mile and a half farther on our way before they discover us; while if we wait and allow the horsemen behind to overtake us there is bound to be firing, the shots will bring the Cossacks down upon us, and we shall be hemmed in between the two bands. In any case we must make up our minds that both parties may chase us, but the Cossacks at any rate will not carry the pursuit far, knowing as they must do that our army cannot be far away."

The soundness of Kobo's advice was self-evident. The word was at once given, the little party set off at a trot, and in a few minutes had crossed the path of the Cossacks, easily discovered by the trampled slush. Some time elapsed before they came in sight of the rear files of the departing enemy. These had their backs to them, and the horses' hoofs making little sound in the soft earth, the Cossacks rode on in ignorance of the riders behind them. It was soon clear that no immediate danger need be feared ahead. If Bob's party could elude the horsemen in their rear they might yet make good their escape. Every step increased their distance from the Cossacks, whose course they had cut at right angles. As soon as it appeared that there was no risk of being heard, Bob gave the order to gallop, in the hope that if they had not already been sighted by the riders behind, they might either escape their notice altogether or gain a sufficient lead to make pursuit vain.

But it was soon evident that the pursuit had already begun. Riding in the rear of his party, Bob looked back at a point that promised a good view of the country, and saw that the horsemen were urging their steeds at a pace much more rapid than the horses of his own party were capable of. Half an hour later he judged that they were only a mile away; in another half-hour they might overtake him. Already some of his party were beginning to drop behind; he knew what their fate must be if they were overtaken by the enemy, and he rode up beside Kobo to consult him.

"We cannot go on much longer," he said. "Our horses are almost knocked up after their hard work. It seems to me that our only chance is to find some defensible position and make a stand."

"I agree with you, Mr. Fawcett," said Kobo. "To find such a position in this country will not be easy. There are no gullies or defiles, as you see. I have already asked the chief if he knows of any spot that we could hold; he cannot help us. But we won't give up hope."

"No. And look, sir, I believe there is a chance after all."

He pointed eagerly to a rocky spur a little in front of them, somewhat to the right. Following his outstretched forefinger, Kobo saw four white-clad figures standing there, apparently watching the approaching bodies of horse.

"Monks!" he said. "You are right; where there are monks there will certainly be a monastery. Let us hope it is near at hand."

"There it is!" cried Bob; "farther up the hillside, among the trees. I see the roof. We had better make for it."

Kobo assented, and Bob instantly swung round to the right, and began to lead the party down the steep slope which separated the path from the still steeper slope on which the monastery stood. As soon as the monks saw his intention, they turned tail and began to scamper up towards the building. Bob shouted to them, urging his tired horse in advance of his party, scrambling as rapidly as possible over rocks and tangled shrubs, and breasting the opposite hill. The more he shouted the faster ran the monks. If they reached the monastery before him they might shut their outer gates. Urging his horse still more vehemently with whip and voice in an oblique direction to the path taken by the monks, he came to a wall; the gateway was open; he dashed through into the courtyard up to the main door of the temple enclosure just in time to thrust the handle of his whip between the post and the door as the monks were shutting it against him. Bringing his horse sideways to the door, he made the animal push it open, though the monks did all in their power to keep it shut. Other monks from within came to the assistance of their fellows, but by this time Sing-Cheng with some of his men had reached Bob's side; the monks were overwhelmed; Bob pushed his way in, followed by the rest of his party, and the last man had only just come within the wall when the foremost ranks of the enemy came surging up the hillside.

Bob shouted to Ah-Sam to conduct the ladies to a place of safety, then ordered the men to dismount and line the wall that stretched across the neck of the crag. Immediately afterwards he gave the command to fire, and the volley emptied several saddles among the assailants. The leading files halted indecisively, but the next moment a big Manchu, whom Bob recognized even in the distance as Chang-Wo, dashed up the slope on a fine white horse, and with yells of fury called on his men to follow him. They responded with a shout, and galloped forward, discharging their rifles. But the wall was too high for them to jump, approaching, as they did, up a slope, and the movements of their horses on the rough ground spoilt their aim. Bob saw that if his garrison behaved with ordinary steadiness he could defeat any attempt at direct storming, and he knew that since their defence of the gully his men had lost whatever dread they might formerly have had of Chang-Wo and his band. They fired again at the word of command; Chang-Wo himself was powerless to hold his men together; they had all the disadvantages of the position, and turning their horses' heads the survivors dashed down the slope at the imminent risk of breaking their necks. Seeing that nothing could be done, Chang-Wo, raving with baffled rage, followed them, narrowly escaping a bullet from Kobo's rifle. The Japanese, whose wounded foot prevented him from standing with the rest, had dragged himself to the top of the wall when the enemy surged up, and fired at them as calmly as at target practice. But he was so weak that he could scarcely hold his rifle steady, and it was to this physical weakness that Chang-Wo owed his escape.

Two or three minutes had been enough to decide the fight. The bodies of twenty of Chang-Wo's men and several horses strewed the slope. Except for two men with slight flesh wounds Bob's party had suffered no hurt. Looking at the retreating enemy, Bob thought it unlikely that they would make another attempt on the position for some hours to come. It was now nearly dusk. He left a portion of his band at the wall to be on the watch against the Manchus, who had now disappeared round the base of the hill, then went to assist Kobo into the monastery, and to find out what manner of place it was into which he and his party had thus unceremoniously intruded.

It had evidently been at one time a very extensive settlement. Besides the temple, a large rectangular structure of wood, with a tiled double roof and curved eaves, there were several smaller buildings, the dwelling-places of the abbot and monks; but the majority of these were much dilapidated, only two or three being kept in repair. The temple itself was richly decorated, with an elaborate altar ornamented with beautiful carvings and a lavish display of gilt and colour, and several figures representing various incarnations of Buddha. Everything was spotlessly clean, showing evidence of reverent care on the part of the white-robed monks.

Mrs. Pottle and her niece had been taken to the abbot's house, and when Bob came to them the former was voluble in praise of the tidiness of her surroundings. To find a roof over her head once more was sufficient comfort in itself; but the abbot, as soon as he learnt from Kobo that he had nothing to fear from this strange intrusion, had already shown great attention to his visitors. Bob learnt that the inmates of the monastery at present numbered sixteen, six of whom, however, had gone to a distant town to purchase stores. They had been expected back all day, and it was for them that the monks had been looking when Bob caught sight of them so opportunely. If they arrived now they would find themselves shut out; and the abbot, when he learnt that the leader of the besiegers was none other than Chang-Wo, wrung his hands at the prospective fate of his monks, for the Manchu was well known all over the country, and his name struck terror into all who heard it.

Bob asked to be taken through the settlement. He was anxious to see what possibilities of defence it afforded. Its size was a serious consideration. The stone wall that ran for about ninety yards across the neck of rocks was loose and crumbling, in some places ruinous, having clearly been used as a passage-way instead of the main gate. The spot was fortunately inaccessible from the rear, which was protected by steep rocks; but in front, except for the clear space up which the Manchus had made their futile charge, the hill-face was on both sides dotted with chestnuts, pines, and other trees, together with a tangle of immense ferns and shrubs, affording complete cover to the enemy if they mustered courage for a planned attack.

In the course of his round, Bob learnt a very disconcerting fact. The well on the crag from which the monastery had in old days been supplied with water had failed for several years past. The monks were too poor to dig a new one; too characteristically indolent also, as Bob surmised. They were content to fetch their water as it was required from a mountain stream that ran at the foot of the hill. At present, while their stock of provisions was fairly large, they had only a few gallons of water in their tanks. This news reminded Bob of the horses, who in the excitement of the recent fight had been overlooked. After their long march they were in urgent need of water, and Bob saw that it was necessary to get a supply before the investment became stricter. Questioning the abbot through Ah-Sam, he found that the stream could be approached under cover of the trees, and there was just a chance, if the enemy had retired to some distance round the bend of the hill, that a quiet sortie for water might pass unobserved. He therefore, as a preliminary precaution, sent three men down as scouts to discover what the enemy were about.

While they were gone he returned to the abbot's house, and found that Mrs. Pottle was making merry over the discovery of a gramophone of immense size in one of the apartments. The abbot explained that the instrument had been left in his charge some time before by a high Korean official fleeing southwards before the Russian advance. He knew nothing about its use; indeed, had left it severely alone; it looked to him a good deal like an instrument of war, and was entirely out of place among his peaceful community.

"He tinkum makee velly big bobbely," explained Ah-Sam.

"No doubt," said Bob to Mrs. Pottle with a smile. "He would probably feel somewhat alarmed if he heard some of our popular music-hall songs coming from the bell. I think we might respect his feelings, don't you?"

"Why certainly, Mr. Fawcett. He seems a nice old gentleman, and it would be a pity to shock him. But, my dear boy, what is to become of us? Shall we ever get away from those horrid Manchus? I blame myself now very much for not following your advice and throwing myself on the mercy of the Russians, for without us women hampering you I am sure you could have got away in safety."

"Never fear, we shall get through in time," said Bob. "We have Kobo San with us now, and he is a tower of strength in himself."

"The very look of him gives me courage," added Ethel. "What a brave man he must be! He has never complained once of his wounded foot, and I am sure it must hurt him terribly."

"Yes; I am much interested in him," said Mrs. Pottle. "He is so close, so silent; a strong man, if I am not mistaken. Where did you meet Mr. Kobo?"

"I will tell you all about it—but here come my scouts," replied Bob. "What have they discovered?"

He learnt that they had seen nothing of the enemy, save for half a dozen whom they had noticed riding away to the south-west.

"Possibly to bring assistance," he thought, though on reflection that seemed hardly the quarter in which help could be obtained. He sought out Kobo, who was resting in one of the other houses, and asked his opinion.

"No doubt they have been sent by Chang-Wo to be on the look-out against the approach of a Japanese force. It is clear to me that Chang-Wo will not retire without an attempt to reduce the monastery, especially as he knows that I am here."

"But you think it would be possible to fetch water?"

"Certainly, if it can be done very quietly."

Bob at once went off to make the necessary arrangements. He first sent a number of the Chunchuses down the hillside to a clump of trees on the right, some distance below the wall, to cover the water-carriers and take the Manchus in flank in the event of a sudden assault. Then, under guidance of one of the monks, he himself with twenty men stole out to the left. He stationed the men at equal distances apart down the slope, then started six buckets along the line. As these were filled they were passed up from hand to hand, and returned in the same way when empty to be filled again. Within the walls the monks received the full buckets as they arrived, and emptied them into a large tank behind the temple. The work was done as quickly and quietly as possible, but every now and then one of the men as he moved up the slope to the man above him struck the edge of his bucket against a rock, causing a sound that could hardly escape attentive ears. Such accidents could not be avoided, but at last they occurred so frequently as the men grew tired that Bob thought it time to make good a retreat. Just as he was giving the order, there was an outburst of yells from lower down the slope, and some hundreds of Manchus on foot came surging upwards. Seizing the muskets that lay ready to their hands Bob's men made a break for the wall, the enemy only a few yards behind them. From the Chunchuses in the clump of trees there was a sharp discharge of musketry, but it was ineffectual to check the rush, which had evidently been prepared with some skill, or the movement could scarcely have been unobserved by Bob's scouts.

It was now nearly dark, and as the men of Bob's party scrambled in hot haste over the wall they were in imminent danger of being shot down by the excited garrison in mistake for Manchus. Bob was glad that he had been able to leave in command so cool and experienced a warrior as Kobo. As he vaulted over the low wall, pursued by a Manchu, he heard Kobo's clear voice, incisive amid the tumult, addressing the Chunchuses in their own tongue. Not a man of them fired his piece: it was clear that Kobo had ordered them to await his command. At last, just as Bob, unrecognized in the darkness, had followed the last of his men across the wall, he heard Kobo give a sharp order. There was a rush of Chunchuses to the wall; they had stood some paces back in order to allow their comrades room to get across. Muskets and rifles flashed all along the line; and the cries of wounded men mingled with shouts of rage and defiance as the whole mass of the enemy swarmed up to the low breastwork.

There was no time for the defenders to reload; the fading light barely allowed man to see man; snatching up their long spears they stood resolute to meet their foes. Seventeen of the men who went out with Bob had returned in safety. For a few moments they were too breathless after their scramble to take a hand in the fight; but with Ah-Sam's help Bob collected them into a compact body and held them as a reserve. He succeeded but just in time. Scarcely thirty yards away a mass of yelling figures, led by a tall man armed with a bayonet, swept through a gap in the wall. Others followed; the space beyond was choked with advancing forms. With the instinct of seasoned warriors the Manchus felt that at this point the defence was weak. Pointing to the furious crowd, Bob, having learnt the word from Ah-Sam, ordered his men to fire. There was a burst of flame; every shot told in the dense throng; and while they were at a momentary recoil Bob led his men headlong into the thick of the mêlée. He could never afterwards recall any details of the ensuing fight. He only remembered Kobo limping at his side, the grunts of the combatants, the reek of gunpowder, an occasional sigh or groan as a man dropped to the ground, felled by the stock of a musket or transfixed by a spear. But it was his charge that turned the scale in the quarter where the attack was fiercest. Suddenly the pressure relaxed; a tremor of panic seemed to pulse through the enemy's ranks; and a moment later the space in front of the wall was clear of the enemy.

He was almost inclined to rub his eyes, so sudden was the change. He looked round for Kobo, but could not see him. His first feeling was one of relief for the sake of the two ladies whose fortunes had been so strangely linked with his own. But he could scarcely hope even now that all danger from Chang-Wo and his ruffians was past. The accounts he had had of that warrior gave him little expectation that even a third or fourth rebuff would turn him from his purpose of vengeance. In the silence that followed the repulse—a silence unbroken even by cheers from the victors, for the men were exhausted—he wondered whether another attack was immediately to be feared. He looked again for Kobo, but in vain. Then he called up the chief and Ah-Sam, and told them to place pickets down the hill to watch the enemy. The rest of the men he bade to tend the wounded, among whom he feared that Kobo would be found. It was now quite dark, but he hesitated to use torches, lest they should draw the fire of the enemy and facilitate another assault. After some minutes an exclamation from Ah-Sam announced that Kobo was found. He was pinned to the ground beneath a huge Manchu. Bob had him carefully lifted and carried to the abbot's house, where the ladies, who had awaited the issue of the fight in nervous dread, were only too glad to find relief for their emotions in active tendance. Kobo, unconscious from a blow on the head, was placed in their hands. Under their care he soon came round, but found himself unable to rise. The wound in his foot had reopened through his recent exertions; it was clear that he suffered great pain, but he was smiling when he said to Mrs. Pottle:

"Thank you, dear madam. I am a battered wreck, I fear, put hopelessly out of action."

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?