ON THE MARCH
The Japanese soldiers felt sure that both Gilbert and Ben had been
crushed by the final sinking of the big tree, and they were much
astonished to behold Ben crawling forth a minute later, dragging his
chum with him.
“Are you hurt?” demanded the Japanese captain, as he ran up, for the
danger from the monarch of the forest was now over.
“Only a few scratches,” was Ben’s answer.
“And your friend?”
“I—I—reckon I am all right,” gasped Gilbert, struggling to his feet.
“But I don’t want to get quite so close to the lightning again.”
“No, nor I,” answered the captain, who had been just in front of Ben.
After this the whole party lost no time in making their way to
the shelter of the rocks. At the best the protection here was not
very good, but it was better than nothing, and nobody thought of
complaining.
For fully an hour and a half the rain continued to come down in
torrents until everybody was soaked to the skin. As it was warm, this
was no great inconvenience so long as they kept out of the fierce wind
which was blowing.
“It looks to me as if this storm was going to last all night,” said
Ben, and his surmise proved correct. For a while the wind let up a
little, but at midnight it came as hard as ever, with another burst of
lightning that kept everybody from going to sleep. Making a fire was
out of the question, and the soldiers, including the officers, had to
eat their rations cold.
“There is no fun in being a soldier in such weather as this,”
observed Gilbert, as he and Ben crouched under the shelter of a small
overhanging rock. “It knocks the glory sky high.”
“Well, we’ve got to take the fat with the lean, as the saying goes,
Gilbert. War was never meant to be a parlor play.”
“I wish our command would advance. I’m tired of lying around this
vicinity.”
“So am I. But I reckon General Kuroki won’t advance until he gets
support from the other armies in the field. He can’t face the whole of
General Kuropatkin’s force alone.”
Towards daybreak the storm began to subside, and by sunrise only a few
scattering drops came down, while the wind died out entirely. The
soldiers scurried around to get the driest wood they could find, and
lost no time in preparing a hot breakfast, which was more than welcomed
by all.
“You may say what you please, but a soldier can’t fight very well on an
empty stomach,” came from Ben, while drinking his coffee.
“Sometimes soldiers fight better that way, Ben,” said Gilbert, with a
faint smile. “We’ve done it, and more than once, too. But I didn’t like
it.”
“What’s the next move, I wonder?”
“I fancy we had best get back into the lines where we belong.”
“I agree with you.”
The Japanese officer consulted with them, and not long after this they
were traveling along a trail which took them directly into camp.
As soon as word reached headquarters that a number of Russians were in
that vicinity, a strong detachment was sent forth to round them up.
This brought on a fierce engagement, in which half a dozen were killed
or seriously wounded on either side.
The young Americans were glad to take a rest after their numerous
adventures. The army moved forward from day to day, but, strange to
say, the Russians kept their distance, falling back from one point
to another. The fighting was now largely in the neighborhood of Port
Arthur and Dalny, and consequently the command that had crossed the
Yalu so bravely had little to do.
Towards the middle of July the three Japanese armies were located in
something like a great semicircle a hundred and fifty miles in length,
with General Kuroki on the right flank, General Oku on the left, and
General Nodzu occupying the center. It was Oku who had done the most
fighting around Port Arthur. Now his army was divided, a portion
remaining behind to besiege the city, and the rest traveling northward,
along the line of the railroad. General Nodzu had landed at Taku-Shan,
some miles below the mouth of the Yalu, and so far had defeated the
Russians at Siu-Yen, compelling them to fall back in the direction of
the railroad and An-Ping.
“This looks to me as if the Russians were going to concentrate at
either Hai-Cheng or at Liao-Yang, on the railroad,” said Gilbert, when
the news was brought in.
“More than likely it will be Liao-Yang,” answered Ben. “I’ve been told
that the Russians have been fortifying that town for a long while, and
have great quantities of supplies stored there.”
What Ben said about Liao-Yang was true. The Russians were doing all in
their power to make it a great stronghold, and had stored there immense
amounts of supplies.
General Kuropatkin, the commander of the Russian army, now had at his
command an army of about one hundred and thirty thousand men. The main
portion was in the vicinity of Liao-Yang, with detachments as far south
as Tashichiano, and as far north as Mukden, all along the all-important
railroad.
Towards the end of July, Field Marshal Oyama, Commander-in-chief of all
Japanese armies, arrived at Dalny, and at once took general charge of
the operation of the war from the Japanese side. A general advance was
ordered, both along the railroad and from the east and southeast, the
object being not so much to drive General Kuropatkin back as to hem him
in, and either annihilate his force, or compel his army to surrender.
The result of those movements brought our young Americans once more
to the front. At one of the mountain passes they got into a fierce
engagement lasting several hours. The losses to both the Russians and
the Japanese were heavy, but luckily both Gilbert and Ben came out of
the contest without serious injury.
Marching through the mountain passes in the hot weather was little
pleasure, and when it rained the roads were sometimes nothing but a
mass of water and mud.
“Bedad, but this is soakin’,” observed Dan Casey, who was now out
of the hospital once more. A fine rain was falling and had been for
several hours.
“How are you feeling, Dan?” questioned Gilbert, who was close by.
“Oh, I’m almost meself again, captain. But I had a close call. It was
good of you to save me as ye did. I’ll not be after forgettin’ it.”
“I was glad to be of service to you. I don’t want to see any of my old
friends go down and out in that fashion.”
“It’s an honor to you to say it. Many an officer would have passed me
by,” answered the Irish sharpshooter feelingly.
The sharpshooters were close to the command to which Gilbert and Ben
belonged. Just ahead was some artillery, doing its best to get through
the mud which seemed to stick to the wheels like so much paste.
“Orders to help the artillery out,” said Gilbert presently, and one
and another soldier took hold as best he could, some pushing and some
hauling on long ropes. Gilbert and Ben were not above doing their
share, the former helping at a wheel and the latter shoving at the back
of a cart. In the meantime Casey and Carl Stummer got to work too, with
a log by which to pry the sunken wheels out of the deepest of the mud.
It was hard, exhausting labor, with little of glory in it, but nobody
complained. The artillery had to get to a certain Chinese village that
night, and take its position on some hills before daybreak.
“This is the seamy side of soldier life,” said Ben, when there came a
chance to talk.
“I dinks me it vos der muddy side, ain’t it?” came from Stummer. “Py
der poots! but I neffer saf vorser mud py der Philippines!” And this
caused a short laugh.
The artillery was attacked by some Russians at eight o’clock on the
following day. A battery opened on the Japanese, and then a body of
Cossack cavalry swept close to the village and up the hillside. But the
Japanese gunners were on the alert, and though one gun was captured it
was quickly retaken. Then the Russians received a cutting cross-fire,
which made them retreat for several miles.
[Illustration: IT WAS HARD, EXHAUSTING LABOR, WITH LITTLE OF GLORY IN
IT.—_Page 238._]
The following day came another skirmish for the infantry, on a side
road where the briers were unusually thick. This was difficult ground
to fight upon, and when the contest came to an end many of the
soldiers found their trousers and leggings in tatters and their shoes
full of holes.
“We’ll certainly look like ragpickers if this keeps on,” observed Ben
that evening as he surveyed what was left of his uniform. “That was a
thorny hill and no mistake.”
“Now you can play needlewoman,” cried Gilbert, with a smile. “Come, get
to work.”
“I’m too lazy and tired, Gilbert. It’s so hot.”
“Then hire one of the boys to do it for you. Some of them are really
expert at sewing.”
“A good idea,” was the reply, and soon Ben had struck a bargain with
a private to have all his clothing mended, and also to have his shirt
washed. Then Gilbert closed a similar contract.
“Wish I could hear from Larry,” said Ben, before turning in for the
night. “I’d like to know where he is, and how the old _Columbia_ is
making out.”
“Let us trust that she has escaped the Russian warships,” answered
Gilbert.
“Yes, I hope that with all my heart. The Russians wouldn’t hesitate a
minute to sink her with all her cargo, if they knew she was carrying
Japanese war material.”