Part 13

So that day passed. On the next, Ah-Sam thought that they had probably by this time turned the Russian positions on the Yalu, and might safely take a southerly course. The country was very wild; the hills were higher and more precipitous than those in the district already traversed. But there were signs of spring. The snow was thawing in the valleys and the less exposed parts of the hills, and the ice of the streams they crossed was rotten, the cart often crashing through. But these being shallow hill rivulets, no harm was done; the only inconveniences were the having sometimes to cut a way to the opposite bank, and the strain on the mules in drawing the heavy cart over the rocky beds and up the rugged slopes. It was easier to make progress at early morning or late at night, for then the snow was still crisp and the ice still solid.

About mid-day they were slowly following the valley of a stream somewhat broader than those hitherto encountered, hoping that it would bring them out some distance up the Yalu about the neighbourhood of Sukuchen. As they proceeded, they came almost unawares upon a remarkable cleft in the hills to their right--a wild and rocky gorge, strewn with irregular masses of rock small and large, and narrowing as it led upwards to a sparse clump of trees at the top. Even in broad daylight it formed a dark forbidding gully, the hills rising sheer precipices on either side, showing masses of granite too steep even to give lodgment to the snow. From a point high up, a thin waterfall plunged over the crags and wormed its way down among the boulders. The travellers stopped for a few moments to observe the scene. Suddenly Ah-Sam pointed upwards: on a ledge of rock almost at the summit, near a narrow fissure, he had descried the form of a bear motionless on its haunches. Following the Chinaman's outstretched finger, Bob at last made out the distant form. For a moment the instinct of the British sportsman prompted him to attempt to stalk the animal, but even as he looked it suddenly disappeared, and he remembered then that as a menial Korean he would have cut an absurd and outrageous figure in pursuit of a bear.

He was still regretting the impossibility of obtaining the skin, when he was startled by the sound of a high-pitched voice coming from some spot ahead of them. The valley here rounded a prominent bluff; no human form was to be seen. Before he had quite collected himself he heard the voice again; it was a woman's voice, speaking in accents of distress, or at least excited remonstrance, and he fancied that it had a very British ring. Springing from the cart, and bidding Ah-Sam follow him quickly, he hurried on ahead, turned the bend, and saw before him, hastening up the slope, five persons, two of them little more than a hundred yards away, the other three at a somewhat greater distance. He was amazed to see that two of the five were ladies, in European costume. The nearer was a young lady, tall, in a costume of grey tweed; her right wrist was in the grasp of a native. The farther was a lady of maturer years, equally tall, very stout, wearing a heavy sealskin jacket, her bonnet awry, her arms pinioned by two natives who were urging her along. The captors were obviously Manchus; they wore the pigtails, the wide-brimmed hats, cotton blouses and loose pantaloons common to the country.

It was from the elder lady that the cries had proceeded and were still proceeding. They were not cries of fear or appeals for mercy, but rather outpourings of wrath and indignation. Her head was being shaken vigorously from side to side, threatening to dislodge her already disordered head-gear. She was evidently not merely protesting, but resisting with all her might, and as she dwarfed the men in both height and breadth, she was giving them no little trouble. The younger lady was causing no such commotion. She was walking quietly by her captor's side, unresisting, saying nothing, accepting the situation resignedly.

Bob took in these details in a few seconds. Then, without counting the odds, he rushed forward, fumbling in the slit of his wadded pantaloons for the pistol he carried there. In the soft snow his footfall made no sound that was not smothered by the unceasing denunciation of the stout lady, and the Manchus were too much occupied with their captives to be alive to the presence of strangers. Bob noticed that the man leading the younger lady held in his right hand a musket or rifle. Making rapidly up on him, Bob stooped just as the Manchu at last heard his tread and was turning, snatched the weapon from his grasp, thrust it between his legs and tripped him up. Then without waiting he dashed on, came within a few feet of the Manchus by the time they had contrived to face round, the lady still struggling between them, and pointing his pistol full at the head of one of them, shouted in English:

"Hands up!"

The very sight of a Korean with a pistol in his hand was enough to throw a Manchu bandit off his balance. The Koreans are a soft, inert, unwarlike race; even their soldiers are never known to fight; and yet here was a Korean, without a topknot and therefore of no social account, actually pointing a pistol and uttering a menace which sounded all the fiercer because it was in a language never heard in these parts from Korean lips before. Bob did not give the bandits time to recover from their amazement. Rushing up to them he sent one spinning over with a right-hander, and wrested the weapon from the other. The large and indignant lady being now released, struck this man smartly over the head with her umbrella, and then, marched down the hill to meet the younger lady, who was coming rapidly towards her with an air of mingled astonishment and relief. Behind came Ah-Sam, who had left his team at the foot of the slope, and was driving before him, in cowed amazement, the Manchu who had held the girl. For a moment it seemed as if the three Manchus, trusting in their numerical superiority, were inclined to retaliate, but there was something in Bob's manner that warned them in time, and they slunk away, muttering curses Manchurian but unmistakable. As they did so, the elder lady stood watching them with menace in her mien, her left hand clasping the hand of the girl now by her side, her right retaining a determined grip of her umbrella. Bob meanwhile walked slowly down the hill towards her. He was a little out of breath, and a great deal astonished. His lips twitched with amusement at the sight of the elder lady, so large, and so unconscious of her disarray, like a ruffled hen in her attitude. The girl seemed partly to share his feeling, for he detected a slight twinkle in her dark eyes as they met his. When the Manchus were out of sight, the elder lady's features relaxed, and becoming aware that the stranger to whose intervention she owed her release was within arm's length, she turned to him and said quickly:

"You speakee English?"

"Yes, madam."

Before Bob could explain himself further, the lady, with a capacious sigh of relief, said:

"That's a comfort, Ethel. Now I guess we shall find a track out of this horrid country." Then, in the pidgin English of literature, she added, addressing Bob: "You plenty muchee goodee Chinee boy. Me givee you heapee thankee--plenty muchee cashee. You belongee this country?"

"No, madam----"

Again his explanation was forestalled.

"Me wantee go Seoulee. You savvy Seoulee?"

"Yes, madam. I--"

"You takee us rightee there--can do?"

During this interrupted monologue the younger lady had shown signs of increasing embarrassment. With flushed checks she half interposed between her companion and Bob, touched the lady's arm, and said quickly:

"Auntie, don't you see?--you are making a mistake; this gentleman is not a--"

"Is not what?" said the lady, putting up her eye-glass, and adding with some asperity: "Then what is he?"

"Let me introduce myself," said Bob, bowing. "My name is Fawcett--an Englishman, at your service."

The lady put up her eyeglass and stared with unfeigned amazement, exclaiming under her breath:

"A Britisher! Well, of all the extraordinary--You will excuse my surprise, Mr.--Fawcett, I think you said? The circumstances are so remarkable. I fear I owe you an apology, but really--" she turned to her companion and began to tie her bonnet-strings--"it just beats anything."

Here Ah-Sam, who had been hovering restlessly in the background, came up and said:

"No tim' belongey this-side, massa. Plenty Chunchu man come this-side chop-chop, makee big bobbely, supposey catchee, he killum allo piecee massa, two-piecee girley, Ah-Sam all-same."

"What does the man say?" asked the lady, staring at the Chinaman as at some strange animal.

"He says that we must not remain here. The men, Chunchuses apparently, threatened to return, and if they do--well, we shall all be in a very awkward fix. Perhaps if you would let me know who these people are--"

"Why certainly. My niece and I are doing Asia. We got as far as Mukden, and there the Russians tried to stop us--said it would not be safe, war was expected. I told them it was all nonsense. They insisted; I persisted. They set a guard over us--free citizens of the United States. Intolerable! We slipped away; naturally;--bribery, of course; very disgusting, but the only way. We struck east for Gensan; got among the hills. Our Chinese guide lost his way, or pretended to, and we were snapped up by a party of brigands, who figured that we spelt dollars, and have kept us with them ever since."

"Then you are Mrs.--Mrs. Isidore--?"

Bob hesitated, endeavouring to recall a name that for the moment eluded him.

"I guess you're on the right track," replied the lady with a look of surprise. "Pottle--Mrs. Isidore G. Pottle; though it beats me how you happened on my name."

Bob then explained that he had learnt of Mrs. Pottle's disappearance from the columns of a San Francisco paper at Tokio. But he cut explanations short, looking anxiously in the direction in which the brigands had disappeared, and parried the questions which he saw Mrs. Pottle was eager to put, by asking for information as to the strength and position of the band. The three men he had seen belonged to a gang of some sixty or seventy, whose last camp was about a mile distant from that spot. Mrs. Pottle was uncertain of the exact number, for it differed from day to day, and that morning the whole band had ridden away with the exception of the three in whose hands Bob had found the ladies, and a few left to guard the camp. Such absences were common. They lasted sometimes only a few hours, sometimes for several days. The brigands were all mounted, and when the camp was changed the ladies were always sent on foot in advance, since nothing on earth would induce Mrs. Pottle to ride pillion on a wild horse behind a wild man. The brigands had done them no harm; they were well fed with atrocious food. Mrs. Pottle said she thought there could be nothing worse than a Russian hotel till she met the Chunchuses. Their Chinese guide had decamped with everything they possessed, including Mrs. Pottle's purse, though she still had her cheque-book, note-book, and umbrella.

"I am not alarmed for myself," said Mrs. Pottle in conclusion; "I am an old traveller, tough, seasoned. But dear Ethel--this is her first tour, and though the poor child bears up well, I am terribly afraid these hardships will ruin her constitution, and then I shall not be able to look her poppa in the face."

"Auntie, I am quite well," said the younger lady, who indeed looked, as Bob thought, the picture of health, with her fresh cheeks and bright eyes. "I am only afraid that your nerves will break down."

"Nerves! I never had any. But Mr.--Fawcett, I think?--what are we to do?--Well, of all the--a Britisher, and in Korean dress!..."

Bob asked the ladies to walk down the hill while he took a look round. He really wanted a few minutes to think over the situation alone. He was beset by perplexities. Difficult as his own position was, it was doubly difficult now that he had someone else to think of. It was most embarrassing--to have to act as squire of dames in such a clumsy, ridiculous costume. Mrs. Pottle's state of mind, he could see, was unmixed amazement; but her niece evidently had a sense of humour. "If she wasn't so confoundedly pretty!--", and then Bob caught himself up, and bent his mind to the problem before him. If the brigands returned in force, he could hardly hope to escape them. If he did, it might be only to fall among another gang: brigandage is an organized profession in Manchuria. Supposing he escaped all danger on that side, he might encounter Russians, and though he himself might pass unmolested as a dumb Korean in company with a Chinese carter, the presence of two ladies in European dress would awake suspicion and provoke the most dangerous enquiries.

Yet he could not leave the ladies: that was out of the question. He secretly suspected that the portly and strong-minded Mrs. Isidore G. Pottle was capable of brow-beating and scaring any number of Manchus or Russians, but her niece!--He looked again at the trim figure.

"That white tam o' shanter makes her--h'm! ... What in the world are we to do, Ah-Sam?" he asked of the Chinaman, who had remained at his side.

"My no can tinkee. One piecee velly largo woman; he makee plenty bobbely; one piecee littee girley, he too muchee fliten, evelyting makee cly-cly, galaw! Supposey you hab larn fightee pidgin, you no can cham-tow allo velly bad tief-man, all-same."

This speech fell on deaf ears, for in the middle of it Bob caught sight of several horsemen in single file far up the hillside in front. Noticing that his eyes were fixed on some distant object, Ah-Sam turned in that direction also, looked hard for a moment, and then exclaimed:

"Chunchuses! Bimeby allo come this-side. What can do? Catchee killum one-tim'."

Now that danger was actually upon him, Bob prepared instantly to meet it. In a flash he remembered the gully he had passed recently with Ah-Sam, and recognized that it was the nearest, indeed the only, defensible position within reach. It was so narrow that, near its summit, it might be held, he thought, by a few against a host. He at once ordered Ah-Sam to turn the cart and drive it as quickly as possible back to the spot where the waterfall emptied itself into the stream, and then up the steep, rocky gorge. In a few minutes the team was plunging through the broken ice at a great pace. Nothing but a Manchurian cart could have stood the strain. It was flung about at all angles; it cannoned against rocks, now one wheel, now the other disappearing in mud or snow; but it survived every shock, and drawn by its four sturdy beasts with Ah-Sam at their head, it groaned and creaked on its upward course until it reached an abrupt twist in the gorge about three hundred yards from its lower extremity.

Meanwhile Bob had led the two ladies diagonally across the hillside by a shorter route than that taken by the cart. Mrs. Pottle bravely panted along, making tremendous exertions under her thick sealskin jacket to keep pace with Bob, who assisted her with his arm. Her niece stepped along as lightly as a doe, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her wavy black hair escaping in disorder below her white tam o' shanter.

Gaining a point above the bend at which the cart had just arrived, Bob saw that the stream flowed around a huge granite boulder which had slipped, apparently at no very distant date, from the almost perpendicular cliffs above, blocking up the greater part of the already narrow defile. Here Bob shouted to Ah-Sam to stop and wedge the cart between the boulder and the opposite wall of the ravine. Looking round, he saw, some fifty feet above, to the left of the stream, the cleft near which the bear had been seated. It was visible now as a fault in the rock, a few yards across. The fissure narrowed towards its base, and from it a shelf of rock ran horizontally outwards, meeting the stream at an acute angle about a hundred yards from where Bob stood. Beyond this junction the gorge rapidly narrowed, and became extremely steep. Leaving the ladies to rest, Bob climbed up the rocky bed to explore, and found that after a time further progress was blocked by a perpendicular wall that rose sheer two hundred feet.

Returning, he reassured the ladies with a word, and then took Ah-Sam with him down the gully. The mouth, some thirty yards wide, was jagged and strewn with rocks, and formed so eminently defensible a position that Bob hesitated whether to attempt to hold it or to retire at once to the still more difficult post behind the cart. It would be a hazardous matter to turn his position; before this could be effected he could inflict severe loss on his assailants. But in a few moments he gave up the idea of holding the lower ground. To begin with, he had no desire to come to blows if a fight could be avoided, for, apart from the risk of being overpowered by the Chunchuses, there was the likelihood that the sound of shots would bring the Russians on the scene. They must be in great force no more than twenty or thirty miles away, engaged on the Yalu entrenchments, and firing in the hills would almost certainly be heard by scouting parties. If the Russians came up, the Chunchuses could disperse with their accustomed celerity, but Bob would be unable to save himself unless he were prepared to abandon the ladies who had so strangely fallen under his care. They would no doubt be well treated if entrusted to an officer of rank; but if the Russians happened to be an ordinary troop of Cossacks, Bob doubted whether he might not as well leave the ladies to the Chunchuses as to them. First of all, at any rate, he had the Chunchuses to deal with. He hoped that when they saw how strongly he was posted behind the cart and the boulder they would draw off. In any case, Ah-Sam's forethought had stocked the cart with enough provisions to last through a siege of some days, and in view of that contingency it was wise to do what he could to strengthen his position still further.

The distant specks on the mountain-side had disappeared. Slowly scanning every portion of the horizon, neither Bob nor Ah-Sam saw any sign of life. They retraced their steps towards the boulder, halting now and then to roll down the steep slope such loose rocks as might give cover to an attacking force. The ladies met them as they reached the cart.

"Well, Mr. Fawcett," said Mrs. Pottle, "did you see anything way down there?"

"Nothing. But if those were your friends the brigands, we shall have them upon us in half an hour."

"Oh! what shall we do, then? You had some plan in bringing us here?"

"Yes. Ah-Sam and I are going to fortify ourselves; it is our only chance."

"Good gracious! They have guns, and I've only my umbrella!"

"We have our pistols and a couple of rifles."

"Against a hundred, perhaps. Still, two determined men, behind rocks--could you spare a pistol for me?"

"If necessary, but I hope we sha'n't have to fight. They will probably tire of besieging us here."

"A siege! But, my dear boy, we can't stand a siege without food, and I confess, Mr. Fawcett, I am hungry. Really, I must eat, and I will say this for the brigands: they did give us food, of a sort."

"Ah-Sam has plenty of food--of a sort," said Bob, smiling. "And perhaps, Mrs. Pottle, while we are doing what we can to strengthen the position, you won't mind preparing a meal."

"Of course not. If only I could get a cup of tea!"

"Ah-Sam has tea, and rice, and millet, and a few other things."

"The dear man! But a kettle?"

"He has a pot, and an oil-lamp, anu plenty of matches."

"A treasure! Let us have the things, and I will turn up my sleeves and set to work. There is water in the stream. Ethel, my love, we shall have a cup of tea for the first time in six weeks. Come and help me."

Bob admired Mrs. Pottle's spirit. Leaving the ladies to themselves, he assisted Ah-Sam to unyoke the team and drag them higher up the ravine, where they tethered the animals to the trunks of some overhanging trees, and supplied them with fodder from the cart. Then, with some difficulty, they pushed and rolled some of the smaller boulders in front of the vehicle, arranging them in such a way that loopholes were left between them covering every part of the approach. The position was now such that the little party was effectually concealed from the road below; but Bob knew that their presence could not remain undiscovered, for the cart and the animals had left very distinct traces in the snow and mud.

Everything possible having now been done, Bob went once more to the mouth of the gully to reconnoitre. There was as yet no sign of the brigands. He was still looking out across the hills when Ah-Sam came up, carrying a pot of rice.

"Chow-chow allo leady, massa," he said. "My fetchee chow-chow this-side; ch'hoy! women boilum tings, spoilum tea; China boy no can dlink it; too muchee stlong for China side; no allo plopa; Yinkelis man hab got numpa one tummy; can dlink anyting."

"I'm afraid we do make it too strong. But I'll explain to the ladies; you shall have some made specially weak for you. Stay here and keep watch while I get something to eat, and come back at once if you see any sign of the Chunchuses."

"Allo lightee, massa. My hab catchee plenty chow-chow. No fear!"

Bob returned to the ladies.

"Come, Mr. Fawcett," cried Mrs. Pottle. "I've just finished my fourth cup. Capital tea, even without cream and sugar. But I don't understand your man. I thought Chinamen liked tea, and I gave Ah-Sam a particularly strong cup. He was positively rude--used most sinful language, and actually threw it away. You must be thirsty; now do drink this, and here is some rice--chow, your man called it; I thought that was the Chinese for dog?"

"Yes," said Bob with a twinkle, "or any other form of food."

"Disgusting!" exclaimed Ethel. "Surely it is not true?"

"I'm afraid it is. Fido is quite a standing dish in China."

Mrs. Pottle looked horrified.

"I wonder," she said reflectively, "what that stew was they gave us yesterday?..."

Her speculations were broken in upon by the sight of Ah-Sam running up the gully.

"Massa," he cried, "my look-see plenty piecee Chunchu come this-side chop-chop, galaw!"

*CHAPTER XV*

*Fortifying the Gully*

Stopping a Rush--The Trappers Trapped--Allies--A Manchu Marksman--A Sighting Shot--Building a Barrier--Velly Good Fighty Man--Ah-Sam at the Front

Mrs. Pottle grasped her umbrella as Bob sprang up, leapt over the boulders, and hurried to the mouth of the ravine. In the distance, to the right, he saw a band of mounted men, about sixty in number, easily recognizable by their nondescript dress and long lances as the redoubtable bandits of Manchuria. They disappeared in the bend of the valley. Again they emerged into view, now only a quarter of a mile away, heading straight for the gully over the trail of the cart. Bob hurried back to his place behind the boulders, and took the rifle handed him by Ah-Sam, who retained the other.

"You won't kill them if you can help it, will you?" said Ethel, whose cheeks had become a little pale.

"Nonsense, Ethel," interrupted Mrs. Pottle; "don't be sentimental. I don't wish them any harm, but--"

She did not finish the sentence, for at this moment the horsemen arrived at the mouth of the gully, and halted, evidently in some hesitation, as though fearing a trap. Their leaders spoke together for a few moments; then the whole band dismounted, and, leaving their horses in charge of some of their number, began to climb up the gorge. Bob felt that it was high time to check them.