Part 15

Recalling seven of the scouts outside, leaving three still to keep a vigilant look-out for signs of the advancing enemy, he leant on the breastwork, and peered out into the darkness, wondering whether anything had been left undone. As he looked at the few yards of snow-covered ground still visible before him, an idea suddenly flashed across his mind. Calling up Ah-Sam, he sent him to bring his four spades from the cart. Removing a small boulder at one extremity of the barricade, he borrowed a spear, went outside to a distance of ten paces, and with the spear drew a line across the mouth of the gully parallel with the barrier. Four feet beyond this line he drew another parallel with it, then returned within the defences. In a few minutes Ah-Sam came back with the spades, and Bob was astonished to see that he was accompanied by Ethel.

"I have brought you some tea," she said; "it will refresh you. Auntie is very anxious to know what you are doing. I could hardly persuade her not to come and see."

"It is very good of you. Please go back, Miss--" He paused. Mrs. Pottle had omitted to mention her niece's surname. He saw a faint smile in Ethel's face.

"Auntie never stands much on ceremony," she said, "and she has taken you quite for granted. My father's name is Charteris."

"Do, please, go back. The Russians may be upon us at any moment, and you will be in danger. Tell Mrs. Pottle that we are doing our best. Ah-Sam, go back with Miss Charteris, and remain with the ladies."

"My no likee go that-side," protested Ah-Sam. "My velly good fighty man; my no tinkee--"

"Come, Ah-Sam!" said Ethel.

Ah-Sam looked from one to the other, then without another word, but with a very downcast countenance, he walked behind the girl up the hill.

Bob had no difficulty in making the Chunchuse leader understand by signs that he required the services of four spademen. These were at once forthcoming--four strapping fellows, who soon showed by the way they handled their implements that before they became brigands they were husbandmen. He set them to dig a trench between the parallel lines he had drawn, placing one man at each end, and the other two back to back in the centre, with orders to work towards their comrades at the fastest rate of which they were capable. After five minutes he relieved them by another squad, and while these were working it struck him that if the Russians attacked suddenly, and the diggers tried to scramble over the barrier, they would come directly in the line of fire and either lose their lives or cause the loss of precious time to the firing party. He therefore removed a small rock at each end, and when he sent out the next relieving squad he gave them express orders to make for the barrier, each man for the gap nearest him, if the alarm were given. The men worked so energetically that in a short time a trench four feet broad and two deep stretched across the entrance to the gully. The men were then withdrawn. They joined their comrades in disposing of the scanty rations at command. All being now in readiness to meet an attack, the scouts also were recalled, and Bob, feeling that he had done all that he could, sat down to rest and await the event.

The time dragged slowly on. The whole band maintained almost absolute silence; no sound was to be heard save the rush of the stream. Waiting in the dark, all his senses on the alert, Bob wondered whether the enemy had drawn off. It was unlike them so to do; the Russians were implacable where Manchurian brigands not on their side were concerned. The existence of these armed bands within their lines was at all times a serious menace. The whole population, save for parties of hired desperadoes, was hostile to the Russian cause. If in the coming conflict with the hosts of Japan the Russians were beaten, the news would rapidly spread through the country, and each isolated band of Chunchuses would become the nucleus to which thousands would flock, harassing the retreating army, and threatening a catastrophe like that which befell Napoleon's grand army in its retreat from Moscow. It was therefore most unlikely that the little force of which Bob now found himself the virtual commander would be left unmolested. The Russian captain had much to gain with his superiors by extirpating the band.

Bob was turning things over in his mind, when suddenly Ah-Sam made his reappearance. This was somewhat surprising. The average Chinaman has no stomach for a fight; he will die at his post if need be, but as a rule he shows no dissatisfaction at being ordered to the rear. Bob had expected that Ah-Sam would be more than glad to have the opportunity of remaining in safety with the ladies.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "I ordered you to remain above."

"My savvy, massa. My velly muchee aflaid largo piecee woman. She say my come back chop-chop bottom-side; massa want gib orders allo piecee Chunchuses; no can do supposey China-boy no this-side helpum talkee. Littee piecee missy say all-same; my no can stay topside no longer, galaw!"

Bob already knew Mrs. Pottle well enough not to be surprised at her taking a different view from his own. The fact that Ethel Charteris had acquiesced in her aunt's command to Ah-Sam to return showed that she was in no fear; and reassured on this score, Bob reflected that certainly Ah-Sam would be very useful, even indispensable, to him.

"Very well," he said, "keep close at hand, and we'll see what sort of a fighting man you are when the time comes."

Bob turned his back on the gully, and once more looked earnestly into the darkness. He therefore did not see the look of gleeful satisfaction on the quaint face of his henchman, nor hear the chuckle he uttered as he sat down to wait beside his master.

*CHAPTER XVI*

*Hemmed In*

The Deadly Breach--Yinkelis-fashion--Chang-Wo is Surprised--Short Commons--Enfiladed--On the Ledge--The Ammunition Question--Chang-Wo Disappears--Footsteps

The minutes passed. The air grew colder. Only the dim flickering of the stars threw a faint light over the scene. One or two of the men had fallen asleep; the rest waited, some stolidly, some restlessly, for the expected encounter. Bob remained at the breastwork, intently watching.

At length one of the men who had been out as scouts whispered hurriedly to the leader; he had heard a slight sound from the distance. The sleepers were roused; every man stood to arms; all were on the instant doubly alert. After the first rustle there was an extraordinary stillness; the watchers seemed scarcely to breathe. Bob heard nothing, but in a moment the scout whispered again. The Russians were coming! Through Ah-Sam the message was passed from the chief to Bob. Ten minutes passed in tense and breathless expectancy, then there came a sound which every man behind the barrier heard. It was the clash of wood against steel; one of the enemy had stumbled and clumsily allowed his weapon to strike that of a comrade. No other sound followed. The enemy were evidently advancing with extreme caution, hoping, as Bob conjectured, either to surprise the Chunchuses, or at any rate to approach sufficiently close unseen to carry the defences with a rush.

In a whisper Bob bade Ah-Sam repeat a caution he had already impressed upon the chief. Not a man should fire until the word was given. The reserve were to withhold their fire altogether until the enemy had reached the wall, or until their comrades had reloaded. Another period of waiting, shorter; then the crisp footfalls of a body of men creeping over the freezing ground were distinctly heard. Suddenly, about thirty yards away, a dark mass of figures came into view; there was a low word of command, and the whole body of Russians and Manchus sprang forward with a yell in which every dialect was represented from the Danube to the Yalu.

Would the obedience of the bandits be equal to the strain of waiting for the word? Bob had hardly time to wonder, for the enemy had swept over the first twenty yards dividing them from the rocky breastwork; behind it, all was silent. Then as if by magic the mass seemed to melt away; the attacking party had, as Bob expected, failed to see the shallow trench; the first line stepping into it fell headlong, the second tripped over them, and next moment the majority of the men were floundering affrighted on the snow-covered ground. Then Bob gave the word. The muskets roared, and bullets fell thick into the midst of the struggling heap immediately under the muzzles of the defenders' weapons. An awful cry ascended from the heaving mass. It was impossible to distinguish what was going on, for the men upon the ground were a tangled medley, some trying to regain their feet and flee from the spot, others writhing with wounds, too badly hit to rise, a few pressing madly forward to the breastwork, which they strove to scale. Then the reserve opened fire; the clamour was redoubled, and the survivors turned their backs, and, jumping or scrambling over their fallen comrades, fled amazedly away into the darkness.

Yells of exultation and defiance burst from the throats of the defenders, now at last able to give vent to the feelings pent up during hours of silent waiting. The leader was eager to spring across the breastwork and slaughter the wounded wretches, whose groans were heard as the tumult subsided. Bob hauled him back by main force, and ordered him to send out a few scouts to discover whether the Cossacks were within striking distance. Learning soon that the enemy had all retreated beyond the hill, he posted five men at intervals about four hundred yards out to keep watch, and proceeded to attend to the wounded. Among the defenders only one man had been hurt by the bayonet of a gallant Russian, who had come right up to the wall and fallen dead beneath a Chunchuse bullet. But in and around the trench there were twenty-eight prone forms, and of these Bob soon saw that eleven had keen killed outright. They were partly Russians, partly Manchus. As Bob went along the trench, carefully examining the survivors in turn, he came upon one lying on his right side, and groaning. He turned the man over, and started--even in the dim light he fancied he recognized his features. Thrilling with expectancy he went to the man's other side and stooped to him. Yes, the right ear was gone; it was without doubt the Manchu, Chang-Wo! Bob rose, and calling to Ah-Sam, bade him carry the wounded man within the barricade; he himself followed, wondering at the strange fate which had connected him with the Manchu ever since his arrival in Japan. He was perplexed as to what could be done for the rest of the injured, whose moans gave him many a pang. He was in no position to deal with them--he had no surgical appliances, no food; yet he could not leave them to perish miserably. What could he do? A thought struck him. Why not deliver them to their own friends? It might be difficult; neither party could trust the other; but he was determined that it should be attempted, even though the Russians regarded it as a trap.

With Ah-Sam's assistance he explained the matter to the leader of the Chunchuses, whose name, he learnt, was Sing-Cheng. The man was wholly at a loss to understand Bob's object. He had acquiesced unwillingly in the order not to butcher the wounded, partly because he knew they would probably die of themselves if left. But that they should actually be given up, living, to their comrades, seemed to him a foolish proposal. Why had they been shot if the effects of the bullets were to be disregarded?

It was no time to explain. Bob, indeed, felt that it might be a difficult task to reconcile such opposites in a Chunchuse mind. He merely asked Ah-Sam to say that it was his wish, and that he had a good reason for it. A colloquy ensued between Ah-Sam and Sing-Cheng. Then the former turned to Bob and said:

"He say velly well, massa, but no can tinkey so-fashion. He say massa plenty good fightee man. Can makee place velly stlong, shoot allo lightee. He tinkey one piecee Yinkelis topside man. He no savvy what-for massa helpee spoilum Roshians. Ch'hoy! He do what massa say this-time."

"Very well," said Bob.

It was necessary to send a message to the Cossack commander. He could not entrust a verbal message to a Chunchuse; he could not dispense at present with Ah-Sam. He must write his proposal, and he had neither paper nor pencil.

"No doubt Mrs. Pottle will have both," he said to himself.

Leaving instructions with the Chunchuses to keep a strict look-out, he hurried up the gully. The ladies must have been alarmed by the firing, and he could fulfil his errand and reassure them at the same time. He spoke to them before he reached the inner barricade, and, when he arrived, found them standing within the line of boulders, ready to meet him. Even Mrs. Pottle was subdued; the terrors of the past half-hour had shaken her. He noticed that she grasped her umbrella.

"Oh, Mr. Fawcett!" she exclaimed; "what has happened?"

"We have beaten off the Russians--once," Bob replied quietly.

"You are not hurt?" said Ethel, leaning towards him, her face very pale.

"No; only one of our party is injured--very slightly. Don't be alarmed. I don't think we shall be troubled any more to-night. I came to borrow some writing materials. Some of the enemy are badly wounded, and I want to send a message to their officer asking him to carry them away."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you! Auntie, a leaf from your block-book. Here is a pencil."

Mrs. Pottle tore a leaf from the book in which she had noted down her impressions of travel in the East, and gave it to Bob.

"Come back soon, Mr. Fawcett," she said. "I am very nervous. That horrid shooting keeps throbbing in my head."

Promising to return if possible, Bob hastened down to the breastwork, and on a boulder, by the light of matches struck for him by Ah-Sam, he wrote in French to the Russian officer. Explaining that he was unable to tend the wounded, he suggested that six men at a time should be sent unarmed to carry them off; he would guarantee their safety. Meanwhile he held one of the wounded men as a hostage.

He despatched the note by a scout, who, venturing about half-way to the Russian position, called aloud for someone to come out and meet him. After some delay a Cossack cautiously approached and received the note. Half an hour elapsed, during which his communication, Bob surmised, had been discussed in the Russian camp; then a Manchu came forward and told the messenger in his own tongue that the terms were accepted. If treachery were practised, the Russians would hang every man caught in the gully. Bob smiled when Ah-Sam translated the message. He knew that, treachery or no treachery, hanging or worse would be the fate of any prisoner; there was no mercy for the Chunchuses.

It took more than an hour to remove the wounded, whom Bob had had carefully carried to a distance of a hundred yards from the breastwork, in order that his defences might not be too closely inspected. When the last had disappeared, Bob went to the spot where his wounded prisoner had been laid. Chang-Wo had now recovered consciousness. He was suffering from a severe scalp wound, which had already been roughly dressed. At Bob's orders Ah-Sam struck a match and held it close to the Manchu's face. He blinked and scowled, then stared at Bob for a moment with a very puzzled expression; he was clearly trying to reconcile the features of the man before him with the Korean dress. Then he glared; a look of rage and chagrin darkened his villainous face. Bob saw that he was recognized. The Manchu attempted to rise, but fell back and groaned. Bob said never a word to him, but giving orders that he should be made as comfortable as possible, he arranged with the chief to keep half the men on duty during the night, while the others rested; and then with Ah-Sam he returned to the ladies in the lonely refuge above.

Mrs. Pottle in his company soon regained her self-confidence, and insisted on a full account of the fight below. Bob told her as much as he thought she should know, and all the time Ethel, like Desdemona, hung upon his words.

"You cannot hoodwink me," exclaimed Mrs. Pottle at the conclusion of the story. "It was you planned it all; I know it was. I have been six weeks with the Chunchuses, and they've no brains. If it had not been for your quickness, Mr. Fawcett, we should have been bound to the Russian cart-wheels by this time."

"Oh no!" returned Bob. "But I must not conceal from you that we are still in a difficult position, Mrs. Pottle, and it is not too late for you still to escape all danger by seeking safety with the Russians."

"I positively refuse; I will not hear of it. I have had enough of the Russians. Besides, what could they do? It appears to me that they've overreached themselves in undertaking to conquer Japan. And mercy me! I don't want to be sent back via Siberia! No, Mr. Fawcett, I'm nearer my country here, and here I shall stay--to the bitter end!"

"But Miss Charteris--"

"She has no wish apart from mine, and of course where I am she must be."

"Well, Mrs. Pottle, you know the position. I will do my best. Now I think you should try to get some sleep. You have had a most exhausting day, and will be quite done up."

"Oh, I couldn't sleep a wink. I should dream. No, I must get the China boy to boil some water; tea will keep us awake. Ethel, my love, you are not sleepy?"

"I think I am, auntie. I think I could sleep now I know that--that--"

"That what? Well, well! Ah-Sam, fetchee cloakees, ruggies, anythingy, from the cartee; missy wantee go sleepy."

But it was Bob who brought all the available wraps from the cart, and made a comfortable couch on the rock for the ladies. After all, it was Mrs. Pottle that fell asleep first. She slept calmly through the night, though she declared when Bob made his appearance that she had scarcely shut her eyes.

The night had passed peacefully. Bob himself had not dared to slumber, for fear lest the attack should be renewed. When morning dawned, he saw the Russians in their old position on the hillock. An occasional shot when one of the garrison exposed himself showed that they were still on the alert, but hour after hour went by and no attack in force was made. Thinking over the situation, Bob could not but conclude that the enemy were either bent on starving him out, or had sent for reinforcements. As nearly as he could judge, their original strength had been some eighty Cossacks and sixty Manchus. At least thirty men must now be subtracted as dead or incapacitated, and as it was likely that many who had escaped after the night attack were more or less badly hit, it was natural that they should hesitate before again approaching the fatal gully.

With either of the two alternatives, Bob recognized that the prospects of the garrison were anything but good. The food question had confronted them the night before; if the Russians persisted in a blockade they would soon be face to face with starvation. There were so many mouths to feed--the ladies first of all, for whom the supply of rice and millet in the cart might suffice for a few days. There was almost nothing for the brigands, who, in fact, had already skinned and cut up Ah-Sam's pony. Ah-Sam had only sufficient fodder in the cart to last his mules two days, even at the most economical rate, and there was not a vestige of herbage in the neighbourhood.

Bob kept as much as possible out of Mrs. Pottle's reach during that day. She had a most uncomfortable habit of asking pressing questions that he found it impossible to evade. But at nightfall she had an opportunity of making the enquiry on the matter that had troubled her all day--this very matter of food.

"We have done very well," she said. "Ah-Sam's rice is excellent, and his millet cakes passable, though I can't trust him to make the tea. But what have you had, Mr. Fawcett? You have not shared in one of our meals to-day."

"No, I shared with Ah-Sam."

"But what did he have? He refused to take any rice or millet."

"He shared with the Chunchuses."

"Yes, but that's what I don't understand. They had nothing left yesterday: where did they get food to-day?"

Bob hesitated, but knowing that the truth must come out sooner or later, he at last said:

"We had a little beef--horse-beef, in fact; very like the real thing."

Ethel shuddered. Mrs. Pottle gasped, then cried indignantly:

"I am ashamed of you, Mr. Fawcett. I am not thinking of the poor beast. It is a shame to deceive me. You could have had rice: I would have boiled it for you myself."

"But, my dear Mrs. Pottle, we don't know how long we may be cooped up here; and if I used your rice you would be reduced to eating the mules."

Mrs. Pottle looked at him. Her plump cheeks turned a little green. Then with a forced laugh she said:

"Well, by all accounts I've eaten worse. I don't say I relish mules, but if it comes to that--"

"Don't worry, auntie," interposed Ethel. "There is still some rice left. Mr. Fawcett will find a way out of this difficulty, I am sure."

Bob privately wished that he felt anything like the same assurance. Two days passed, during which his anxiety did but deepen. No movement was made by the Russians. This fact only increased his uneasiness, for it was a proof that the worst of the position had yet to be faced. One of the mules had been killed and cut up; Bob found, indeed, that the Chunchuses were almost reckless in their consumption of the flesh, and he had to impress upon Sing-Cheng the necessity of putting them on fixed rations. At best the fare was meagre; the animals were hardy and muscular, but with no superfluous flesh; and what flesh there was was not too wholesome without vegetable food. The men ate their scanty rations without grumbling, but they objected to the feeding of Chang-Wo; in him, indeed, Sing-Cheng had recognized an enemy against whom he bore an old-standing private grudge. He was for killing the Manchu out of hand; he reeled off to Ah-Sam a long and passionate account of the evils he had done. But Bob insisted that the prisoner must be fed exactly as themselves, and kept him bound hand and foot to the cart.

On the third day, shortly after dawn, Bob was disconcerted to find that the enemy had achieved what Sing-Cheng had declared to be impossible. Shots from a point high up the cliff on his left told him that in some way, probably by making a considerable detour, the Russians had gained a position whence they could enfilade his encampment behind the boulder. The new danger to which he was exposed was soon brought home to him. The enemy, themselves for the most part under cover, began to pick off the Chunchuses, while their comrades on the hill in front kept up a hot fire which showed that escape in that direction was impossible. The unfortunate garrison were placed in a desperate plight. If they shifted their ground to avoid the flank attack they exposed themselves to the enemy on the hill. To neither could they make any effective reply. In the first place their arms were ineffective at the range, and secondly, the Russians had all the advantage of cover. Bob himself, with his more accurate rifle, managed to put _hors de combat_ one or two of the enemy who exposed themselves; though he dared not shoot as often as opportunity offered, for his stock of ammunition was small, and it was necessary to husband it.