FIGHTING ALONG THE PEI-HO
“Give it to ’em hot-like, boys! Show ’em what American regulars can do!”
“Make every round tell. We haven’t any ammunition to waste.”
“The colonel expects us to give a good account of ourselves. Don’t
disappoint him.”
So the cries ran on, while the regulars were advancing. But, as they
drew closer to the enemy, a strange silence fell; for all realized that
what was before them was no child’s play.
The Boxers facing the American troops numbered at least a thousand, the
others having pursued the Russians at the embankment. They were well
armed; and a second volley from their first rank brought down two of
the Americans, both seriously wounded. The Celestials were making a
tremendous din, and the combined noise was deafening, while the wild
waving of banners was well calculated to destroy a marksman’s aim.
But the command was again to go forward, coupled with the order to
fire at will; and soon Gilbert found himself almost face to face with
a crowd of Celestials. He fired his pistol, and saw his man tumble
backward; and then, as if by magic, four or five of the Boxers hurled
themselves at him.
The fury of that onslaught cannot be described. The young lieutenant
had been in several hand-to-hand encounters in Luzon; but no attack
by Filipinos could equal this frenzied rush by fanatics, who thought
by annihilating the “foreign devils” they would gain for themselves a
superior place in the Hereafter.
“_Cheri-chi-chi!_” was the battle-cry, as it sounded in Gilbert’s ears.
“Kill! kill! kill!” was the word the Boxers used the most, repeated in
several dialects.
[Illustration: THE YELLOW MAN WAS ON THE POINT OF BLAZING AWAY AT
GILBERT’S EAR.]
Gilbert felt that he must fight as he had never fought before. His
sword was in one hand and his pistol in the other. Crack! crack! went
the smaller weapon; and then the larger was thrust forward, to find the
shoulder of a Celestial beside him. The yellow man, his eyes almost
staring from his head with excitement, was on the point of blazing
away at Gilbert’s ear with his gun, when a bullet from the rear rank of
the Americans killed him on the spot. Then the young lieutenant leaped
over a dead body before him, hurling a little Asiatic flat, and reached
a breathing-spot, where he might catch his second wind.
The Boxers had been carefully trained in their peculiar military
tactics; but the average Chinaman loses his head easily, and soon the
officers of the Celestials could no longer control them. Some continued
to advance, while the majority retreated, and the din became even
greater than before.
“Form a square!” was the command from Major Morris, as soon as he
realized that the Boxers were bewildered and running around on all
sides. The order was quickly obeyed, and then each of the four
companies composing the sides of the hollow square was ordered to
advance. They fired as rapidly as their guns permitted, and in less
than ten minutes the Celestials were all in retreat.
In the mean time another pitched battle had been going on at the
embankment, and here honors were about equally divided between the
Chinese and the Russians. The latter had been fighting hard the day
before; and the heat had all but exhausted them, for each man was
heavily equipped.
As one division of the Celestials was fleeing from the Americans, they,
or at least a larger portion of them, plumped straight into the others
near the embankment, utterly demoralizing them. “The Americans are
coming! They number thousands!” was the cry, in Chinese; and then began
a retreat such as Gilbert had never before seen, the Boxers tumbling
over each other in their haste, tearing their flowing uniforms,
throwing down guns and swords, and all the while waving their beloved
banners and shrieking as if to arouse the dead.
The Russians saw the turn of affairs, and were quick to take advantage
of the move. In a twinkling they leaped over the embankment, and
poured a hot fire into the retreating enemy. Soon they were beside the
Americans, and then they did all in their power to outstrip them. The
only time a Russian soldier would pause was when he saw some wounded
Chinaman trying to escape, when the wretched fellow would immediately
be despatched with a bayonet.
“That’s too much for me,” cried Gilbert, as he watched one of these
performances. “Those poor fellows are out of the fight. Why not leave
them alone?”
“I’m afraid you’ll see worse than that before we get through,” answered
Captain Banner. “Some foreign soldiers are pretty brutal, I can tell
you that; and even some of our own men can’t be held back at times.”
There was no time to say more, for all were after the Boxers on the
double-quick. Gradually the Celestials separated into three parties. At
this the Russians followed one, the Americans another, while the third
party escaped in the direction of Shan-Hai-Kwan, a town to the north of
Tongku.
In the struggle near the wood the Americans had left the vicinity of
the railroad; but now the Boxers they were after ran for the road-bed
and came out at a spot between that and the Pei-Ho. They appeared to
know the marshland perfectly, and soon the larger portion of them
disappeared among the tall reeds.
Gilbert’s company ran as far as possible into the marshland, and were
then ordered to halt by Captain Banner. Soon after this Major Morris
ordered the entire battalion back to the road-bed of the railroad, and
fighting for the time being came to an end.
The respite was a welcome for the men, for the hot sun had caused them
great suffering. A hasty meal was had, and a constant watch was kept
for the Boxers; but they did not reappear, and just before nightfall
the battalion pushed on once more in the direction of Tien-Tsin.
“Phew! but that was hot while it lasted!” exclaimed Gilbert, as he sank
on a hillock to rest. “We pitched right in from the word go!”
“So we did,” answered Captain Banner. “I wonder what became of that
Russian detachment?”
“They are on the other side of the tracks somewhere. Hark! You can hear
the firing. But what is that booming to the south?”
“That’s a storm,” put in another officer. “We are going to catch it
heavily, mark my words.”
The officer was right. A quarter of an hour later the first drops began
to fall, and in less than an hour the downpour became a perfect deluge.
Close beside the railroad some of the soldiers had found a quantity of
driftwood, and of this they proceeded to make shelters to keep off the
water.
It looked as if the battalion was in for a bad night of it, but how
bad no one yet knew. Darkness had scarcely settled down when a staff
officer dashed up on a horse covered with foam.
“Is that Major Morris’s command?” came to the picket from out of the
gloom and the rain.
“Yes.”
“Tell him I have a message from the colonel.”
Word was passed, and the major went out to meet the messenger.
“You must proceed to Tien-Tsin without delay, Major Morris,” said
the staff officer. “The foreign section is suffering an extra heavy
bombardment. A force of Japanese and French will soon be along this
way, and orders are for you to attach yourself to that body.”
“I will do all I can, Captain Drake,” answered the major. And, knowing
the staff officer well, he continued, “What does this mean, anyway?”
“It means that the Old Harry is to pay at Tien-Tsin. All told, the
Allies have but twelve thousand men there; while the attacking force
is said to number twenty to thirty thousand, and is being constantly
increased. The Chinese regulars have joined the Boxers.”
“And how many men have we on the road?”
“The Allies had four thousand; but some extra Japanese and German
troops have just arrived, and they are to be pushed forward to-night,
if possible. But I must be going. If I am not mistaken, here come the
Japanese and French I mentioned now.”
A steady tramping through the rain and darkness could be heard, and
soon came a cry from the picket line. The major rode forward to
investigate in person, and soon found himself confronted by a Japanese
officer of a rank equal to his own. The Japanese officer was uniformed
most gorgeously, and rode a black steed that the major easily saw was a
thoroughbred.
“Yes, we shall march straight to Tien-Tsin,” said the Japanese, in
excellent English. “I was told of your command, and shall be pleased to
have your company. I shall keep to the right of the railroad so long
as the enemy remains under cover. The French are going to keep to the
left.”
“Then we will continue close to the river,” answered Major Morris; and,
saluting, he rode off. Necessary orders were at once issued; and again
Gilbert found himself on the march.
The forward movement continued until long after midnight, when,
too tired out to go another step, the battalion was stopped by the
commander. The French detachment, consisting of six hundred men,
likewise halted. But the Japanese would not stop, and went off with
their steady, tripping step, in a manner to astonish everybody.
“By Jove, I believe they could march for a week without stopping,” was
Captain Banner’s comment. “They seem to be all bone and muscle.”
“And they live on little but rice, too,” added Gilbert. “It certainly
is wonderful what they can endure.”
The Frenchmen were glad enough to have the Americans at hand, and the
two camps were pitched side by side. The foreigners were from the south
of France, and were mostly the sons of farmers or grape-growers.
“We are bound to meet all kinds of people here,” said Gilbert. He was
much interested in the Frenchmen, and was sorry he could not converse
with them. Here and there a conversation was held, but it was soon
discovered that the supply of French on one side and of English on the
other was decidedly limited.
Gilbert had become accustomed to sleeping on the battlefield; and,
seeking the most sheltered spot he could find, he was soon in the land
of dreams. He slept until daybreak, and was just turning over for
another nap when one of the sergeants aroused him.
“Up quick, lieutenant!” was the cry. “The Chinese are coming along the
river. We are in for another scrap, sure, and a big one!”