Part 12

Every now and then the leader paused to get his bearings, and altered his direction to right or left with little hesitation. At one point, when they came to a beaten track, he motioned to the others to remain where they were, and went ahead alone. In a few minutes he returned, and the silent march was resumed. The course led from the river-bed over country that became more and more hilly, and Bob was almost dropping with fatigue when, after walking rapidly for some eight or nine miles as he guessed, they came almost suddenly upon a high wall. Skirting the wall, they reached a gate, giving access to a courtyard. The gate was locked; the two Chinamen assisted Bob to climb it; a dog barked, but was instantly silenced by a sharp exclamation from one of the men mounting immediately behind Bob. Before them stood a low farmhouse, with still lower structures adjoining, which Bob found later were pig-styes and cow-byres not very different from similar appurtenances of farms at home. One of the Chinamen tapped twice at a window-frame latticed and filled with paper; there was no reply; he rapped again, twice, but slightly louder. In a moment a glimmer appeared within; a movement was heard; the frame was drawn aside, and against the dim light of a small bowl-lamp the form of a Chinaman was outlined. The moment he distinguished the features of the man who had tapped, he closed his fists, pressed them together against his chest, and bowed almost to the ground.

The three entered; the movable window-frame was replaced. Then one of the Chinamen turned suddenly to Bob, held out his hand, and with a smile and a bow said in careful clear-cut tones:

"I am glad to meet you again, Mr. Fawcett."

Bob stared at him in amazement. He recognized him now as the younger of the two Chinamen who had rescued him from the drunken students in Sasebo, who knew no English, and whom subsequently he had seen in the streets of Seoul. But though this was what he saw, the voice, the accent, the manner, reminded him of another person, not a Chinaman, but the Samurai who had been his host in Nikko. Grasping the outstretched hand, he said, with a gasp of amazement:

"Kobo!"

"Rokuro Kobo San," corrected the voice of Taru.

"Pardon me, sir; you will understand that I am--"

"A little taken aback, Mr. Fawcett? Yes, I understand. But you must be very tired and very hungry. You will permit my friend here to give you some food, and provide you with a jacket, then we can talk more at our ease."

In a few moments Bob, clad in a new silk jacket, was resting his weary limbs on a wadded quilt unrolled on the floor, eating with a good appetite and without enquiry the dishes placed before him. Kobo shared his meal, at the same time entering into explanations.

"You have no doubt guessed," he said, "that both myself and my servant Taru are on secret service. Our Japanese system is very elaborate. It has been most carefully organized since the Chinese war. No quarter of Manchuria has not been surveyed by our agents; many of the inhabitants are in sympathy with us, many of them are in our pay."

Bob glanced at their host.

"No," said Kobo, smiling, "he is not a Chinaman; he is a Japanese, like myself."

"But he has a pigtail!"

"So have I! Mine, however, was assumed a few weeks ago, its hold is precarious; our host's is natural, it was grown for the purpose. We have seen this war coming for ten years; and two or three suffice for the growth of a pigtail, if one sets about cultivating it in earnest. Our friend, with hundreds more, was sent over to settle in this country; some have cultivated the pigtail and become good Chinamen, others with equal success have devoted themselves to the topknot and are passable Koreans."

"Your motto is 'thorough'," said Bob admiringly.

"Yes, even to the loss of our heads. You see now why I was unable to recognize you in Sasebo and Seoul, though I half believed that in Seoul at any rate you recognized me. I could say nothing. There are Russian spies also in all parts of the country, and a single incautious sign might have compromised me and led to my discovery and suicide."

"Suicide!"

"Of course. Any Japanese would kill himself rather than do harm to his country's cause."

"Evidently one might never know when one is meeting a Japanese. May I ask--is Mr. Helping-to-decide a Japanese?"

"No, no," returned Kobo, laughing outright. "He is a real Korean; he means to help, but he never can decide. Now I want you to tell me how you met him; indeed, to give me a full account of what has happened to you. I have a reason for asking."

Bob rapidly sketched an outline of his adventures since he left Japan.

"Yes," said Kobo, when his story was ended. "Of course I learnt from Yamaguchi in Yongampo that you were with him. I heard of the fight on the shore; I did not know you had so thoughtfully come to Yamaguchi's assistance; in fact, I followed you as a Cossack despatch-rider until you killed your first tiger--"

"You knew that!" exclaimed Bob in surprise. He had said nothing about that incident.

"Yes, I came in at the death; that is to say, I was present when Mr. Helping-to-decide came upon the scene, and having satisfied myself that the man I had been following was not a Russian, I resumed my journey northward. I was proceeding to Feng-huang-cheng when I heard that you had fallen into the hands of Chang-Wo--an old enemy of mine, as you know--and had been sentenced to death. I came back at once to Antung. Fortunately the baker who contracts for the Russians' ammunition-bread in Antung is a Japanese agent. He discovered the place of your imprisonment, and bribed one of the Siberian guards--an easy matter, I assure you--to see that a special loaf was delivered to you. The rest you know; and let me say, you did your part much more rapidly than I had supposed possible."

"It was really extremely good of you to--"

"Not at all, not at all," interrupted Kobo; "it was my duty--in the circumstances."

"In what circumstances?"

"They had sentenced you to death. You will understand my position. If I had been perfectly sure that, with the prospect of death before you, you would have acted as you did--refused to give them any information,--it would have been my duty to go straight to my destination."

"I should have been shot?"

"Undoubtedly. Personal considerations are immaterial. Only reasons of state can override reasons of state. Another time--let us hope it will never occur--I need not trouble; I can go on my way--now that I know you are to be trusted."

This gave Bob something to think about. It was a view that had not struck him till then. He could not but recognize that it was strictly logical. One life was of no account compared with the vast national issues at stake. Kobo could allow nothing to delay him but the public service. Logical as it was, however, Bob had somewhat of a shock when it was brought so nearly home to him that Japan, if not the world at large, was governed by logic; and though he had a passing pang at the thought that Kobo, after a few days' knowledge of him, was not convinced of his trustworthiness, his soreness was a good deal relieved when he remembered that but for Kobo's caution he would now be lying in a Russian grave.

"Now, Mr. Fawcett," said Kobo after a pause, "you no doubt feel the need of a good sleep. But I will ask you to wait a little longer, while we discuss your future movements. It will soon be daylight, and I must then be gone; I must continue the journey you have twice unwittingly interrupted. You cannot, of course, accompany me. I do not wish to carry you into danger, nor can I endanger my mission by being encumbered with you. On the other hand, you cannot remain here, for Chinese houses, as you see, are not built for secrecy, and you would certainly be discovered ere long by the Russians. It will be best for you to make another attempt to reach our lines. You must go alone; I would willingly lend you my servant Taru, but that I myself require him. But our host here has a Chinese servant who is familiar with the country; he will act as your guide."

"Does he speak English?" asked Bob.

"Yes, pidgin English; indeed, he considers himself an accomplished linguist. As to your route, it will be dangerous to attempt to cross the Yalu anywhere between Antung and the sea. The Russians will naturally be on the alert, the more so because of the recent appearance of destroyers off the coast. All the fords between Antung and Wiju will be narrowly watched. When they discover the sampan they will probably connect it with your escape, and suspect that you have taken the shortest way to our lines. Your best course will be to go northward and make a circuit as soon as it is safe to do so."

"But will there not be a danger of meeting Russians northward also? I can't pass for a native, unluckily."

"Not as you now appear, but we can alter that. I think your guide had better travel as a carter; you will go as his man. Our host will dye your hair and stain your face and dress you as a Korean."

"But I shall never be able to manage the topknot."

"True, but that will not be necessary. Being unmarried, I presume--"

"Certainly."

"You will not require a topknot, which is the monopoly of the married men. Your hair is sufficiently long for you to pass as a bachelor, which, you will take care to remember, is an inferior and ignominious condition. As a further precaution, you had better pretend to be dumb whenever you encounter people. Your guide should, I think, set off with his cart in the morning towards Tang-shan until he finds an opportunity of crossing the main road. In order not to attract attention you follow at night, and do not join the cart until it has crossed. If a strange Korean were seen leaving this house it might arouse suspicion, and the fact might be reported by spies to the Russians. Your further course must be determined as circumstances dictate, and may safely be left to your guide. I think all is arranged, then; it only remains to introduce the Chinese boy to you."

Kobo said a few words to their host, who called in a loud tone. In a few moments a stout little Chinaman appeared, salaaming as he entered the room. His round hairless face was impassive, his slanting eyes looked intelligent, and he kow-towed profoundly when Kobo briefly introduced him.

"This, Mr. Fawcett, is Ah-Sam. Ah-Sam, Mr. Fawcett is an Englishman; he does not speak Chinese; you will be able to turn your knowledge of his language to account."

"My speakee Yinkelis first-chop so-fashion," said the Chinaman, giving Bob some qualms as to the possibility of using this dialect of English as a means of communication.

Kobo then proceeded to explain to Ah-Sam in his own language the scheme of action he had arranged. The Chinese listened gravely, nodding his head from time to time. When his instructions were concluded, he went off silently to prepare for his journey. Kobo then gave Bob detailed particulars of the road he was to follow on the next evening, and finally bade him farewell.

"I hope I shall see you again," said Bob after warmly thanking him once more for his rescue.

"I hope so. We cannot tell. Good-bye!"

Bob slept for many hours. When he awoke he had to undergo a long process of disguising at the hands of his host, from which he emerged completely transformed in complexion, appearance, and dress. His hair from light-brown had become black, his cheeks sallow. He wore the Korean national costume--huge cotton trousers padded with cotton wool, tied round his waist with a long tasselled ribbon; a short bell-shaped coat, also padded, with long sleeves; padded socks, in which the ends of the trousers were tucked; and paper shoes, fastened to the feet like sandals. These last were much more durable than they appeared. He wore no hat, but as it was cold, and there was a prospect of snow, he was provided with a large umbrella on a bamboo frame that fitted the head, so that in case of need he might carry some means of protection.

At nightfall he left the house with his host, who offered to accompany him until he overtook the cart. Both were mounted on small Korean ponies. After three or four hours' riding over snow-covered hills they struck the high-road, and leaving this at an angle in a north-easterly direction, they ascended into another low chain of hills, and in about two hours reached a small village. Here, as the Japanese host had anticipated, they found Ah-Sam awaiting them in an inn. The Japanese then took his leave, and Bob was left to his new guide.

The aspect of the inn was not very inviting. Bob's nose as he entered was assailed by the strong smell of pork and vegetables stewing in two huge cauldrons, one on each side of the door. The place consisted of one room, about forty feet long, with a low platform called a k'ang running the whole length of the wall, covered with dirty matting, sheep-skin coats, pedlars' packs, and miscellaneous frippery, with a score of rough labourers and carters lolling on them, eating, drinking, and smoking a very pungent tobacco. The k'ang, Bob found, covered the heating apparatus of the place, and was, in fact, a kind of flue. The middle of the room was occupied by what appeared to be a rough altar, but which turned out to be a kitchen-range--an oblong brick structure about three feet high, hollow in the centre, with an arched covering pierced with holes, above which various cooking pots were placed during the evening.

As Bob entered, Ah-Sam came from his perch at the end of the k'ang nearest the door, putting his finger to his lips. Bob suddenly remembered that he was to feign dumbness. He therefore made no reply to the remarks addressed to him, presumably in Korean, by the boy, but submissively accepted a bowl of soup, the mere odour of which was nauseating. He went through the forms of eating, but soon gave it up, and making a virtue of necessity, settled himself to sleep at the cleanest part of the k'ang, picked out for him by Ah-Sam.

At daybreak next morning they set off, and Bob had his first experience of riding on a Manchurian cart. It was rather more unpleasant than jolting in a four-wheeler over the cobbles of the Glasgow streets. The framework of the cart, about fifteen feet long by four wide, rested on a huge axle-tree between two wooden wheels whose iron tyres were more than an inch thick. There were no springs. On each side ran a low wooden rail, intended to support so much of the load as overlapped from the body of the cart. There was a small pony in the shafts, and in front of it six mules three abreast, attached by long hempen ropes to iron hooks in the framework. The mules had neither bit nor bridle; they were guided wholly by the driver's voice and whip, the latter twelve feet long in the handle, with a thong of equal length, and so heavy that both hands were required to wield it. Ah-Sam sat on the front of the cart, and gave Bob a place behind, where he helped to balance the vehicle on its two wheels. The cart was but lightly loaded; it contained a few empty sacks, some fodder for the animals, a supply of food, and a couple of spades. Beneath the framework, cunningly hidden between the wheels, there were two rifles and a good stock of ammunition.

Bob had had no little difficulty in remembering that he was dumb. After their meal in the inn that morning Ah-Sam had roughly ordered him to make himself useful and help to harness the mules, pouring out upon him a torrent of Chinese which Bob judged from its tone to be highly abusive. He went submissively enough to work, but being new to the job fumbled a good deal, and was several times on the point of asking how this or that was to be done. But he always caught himself up in time, turning what he intended to say into such inarticulate grunts as even a dumb man can utter. When, however, the inn and the village were left behind, and no human being was in sight, he thought it safe to throw off his restraint, and ventured to address a question to Ah-Sam in the front of the cart. He found the Chinaman's pidgin English at first rather difficult to understand, but after half an hour's conversation had gained sufficient familiarity with the idiom to get a fair idea of the man's meaning. He learnt that the talk in the inn had been of two matters: first, the great entrenchments which the Russians were making around Antung and Kiu-lien-cheng; and secondly, the annihilation of a Cossack detachment by a band of Chunchuses, the bandits of the country, some distance away in the hills.

"Russians belongey allo muchee mad," said Ah-Sam. "He say catchee killum allo piecee Chunchuses, galaw!"

Bob was about to ask for particulars of the Chunchuses, when, from round a corner, appeared a native driving a laden ox. Ah-Sam instantly put his finger to his lips, reminding Bob of his dumbness. When the native appeared, Ah-Sam stopped for a talk. This occupied some time; then the teamsters parted and went on their several ways. The route followed by Ah-Sam was rather a foot-path than a cart-track; and but for the snow, which filled the ruts and formed a fairly hard and even roadway, it would have been impassable for wheeled traffic. As it was, the progress of the cart was very slow and toilsome.

About mid-day they came to a dip in the hills where Ah-Sam decided to halt, take a meal, and feed his team. This done he remounted to his place, Bob sprang on to the tail of the cart, and the slow journey was resumed. But they had barely begun the ascent of the upward slope when from the left, across the snowy waste, a troop of horsemen were seen galloping rapidly towards them. The riders soon defined themselves by the bright yellow of their uniforms as a sotnia of Cossacks. Ah-Sam at first affected not to notice them, stolidly driving on; but turning his head at length in response to their loud shouts, he drew rein, muttered a warning to Bob and an order to run to the head of the team, and sprang from his perch in time to make half a dozen rapid kow-tows before the Cossacks reached him. He continued his obeisances as the captain of the troop roughly addressed him in Chinese, but suddenly stood erect and began to expostulate in voluble yet obsequious tones when, in response to an order, two of the Cossacks dismounted and approached the cart with drawn swords, evidently with the intention of cutting the traces. Bob, holding the head of one of the mules which was plunging excitedly, of course understood not a word of the colloquy; if he had known Chinese he would have heard the captain curtly inform Ah-Sam that the mules were required for the Russian service, and Ah-Sam's protest that they were already engaged in that service. He had just delivered, he said, a load of millet and forage stuffs to the honourable contractor to the honourable governor of Antung, and was on his way back to a farm at Kuan-tien to fetch another load. If the honourable captain took his mules, he would be unable to fulfil his commission. The roads, as the honourable captain saw, were so bad that with his team, small enough as it was, he was already behind time. He needed more mules, not less; he had begged the honourable contractor to give him three more, but none were to be found. His strong and capable assistant had been taken away to work in the Russian trenches, and he had been forced to hire at the last moment a big, loutish, dumb fool of a Korean, who could do nothing but eat, and who at this moment, as the honourable captain saw, was an absolutely useless, incapable, soft-muscled--

He was interrupted by a general hullabaloo among the mules, which, unused to the handling of a European, were kicking and plunging and threatening to involve the whole team in an inextricable tangle. Stretching his arm, Ah-Sam flicked two or three of the mules with his long whip, roundly abused Bob, and, apparently in ungovernable rage, struck him also with the lash, which cut through the wadding of his trousers and caused him to utter a smothered growl, at which the Cossacks laughed with enjoyment.

The mules having been reduced to order, Ah-Sam returned to face the captain, kow-towed again, and repeated his story. The Russian had already countermanded the order to his men, and was clearly hesitating. He was a good-tempered-looking fellow, thought Bob,--a young clean-limbed captain, picturesque in his long silver-ornamented coat and astrakhan cap. Interrupting Ah-Sam's shrill sing-song of protest, he demanded to see the receipts which the muleteer doubtless possessed if his story was true. The Chinaman instantly produced a number of papers from a bag tied beneath his coat, and handed them to the captain, who examined them carefully. They were unmistakably receipts, in proper Chinese form, and recognizing that he might get into hot water with the authorities if he delayed the procuring of the supplies so urgently needed, he at length said that he would be satisfied with three of the mules, and when these had been unyoked, gave the Chinaman permission to proceed.

Before he rode off, however, he asked, as by an afterthought, a question which appeared to be incomprehensible to Ah-Sam, who looked puzzled, then asked a question in return. The captain smiled as he explained to his lieutenant what the Chinaman had said; both laughed heartily; then the word was given, and the troop rode off in the opposite direction to that from which they had come.

Bob had been waiting for an opportunity to tackle Ah-Sam on the matter of the whip. While it was well, no doubt, to keep up their character as master and man, he had a suspicion that the Chinaman had laid on with unnecessary vigour, perhaps to experiment on the quality of the foreigner he was escorting. When, therefore, the Cossacks were safely out of earshot, Bob went forward and sat beside Ah-Sam.

"What was the Russian laughing at?" he said.

"Ch'hoy! He say, hab my see one piecee Yinkelis man what lun wailo? My say, what likee Yinkelis man my savvy tiger, bear, monkey, hairy Ainu; Yinkelis man belongey likum he?"

"Oh! And I suppose you hit me with the whip to make it quite clear that I was not an Englishman. You hit me like this, you know."

Bob suddenly rose, took the Chinaman's whip, and gave him a smart cut. Ah-Sam yelled.

"He hurtee velly muchee," he said, rubbing the place.

"Yes, I know. If we meet any more Russians, perhaps you can prove I am not the runaway Englishman without using your whip."

"My no hit massa no mo'e; my member plenty too muchee, no fear!"

*CHAPTER XIV*

*Mrs. Isidore G. Pottle*

Fair Captives--Pidgin--Among the Chunchuses--Seeking Cover--A Breathing Space--A Picnic

The travellers pursued their journey without incident through the rest of the day. Occasionally they met a native with whom Ah-Sam exchanged a few words, and in these conversations he learnt that the Russians were in great strength between them and the river, and had impressed hundreds of Manchurians to work on the fortifications. This forced labour was by no means to their taste, and many of the inhabitants were therefore in hiding, so that the travellers need not be surprised at the comparatively deserted condition of the country through which they passed. From this information it was clear that to turn southwards would be dangerous as yet. Ah-Sam accordingly drove on in an easterly direction, making long detours to avoid climbing the hills, which became higher and higher as they advanced. They spent the night in a solitary inn, smaller than the first, and fortunately less crowded. Early on the following morning they pushed on again. Ah-Sam told Bob that they were now passing beyond the region which he knew intimately. He had only a general knowledge of the country, and must trust to passing wayfarers to keep him in the right way.