CHAPTER XXThe Battle of MoukdenReservations—The Cupboard—Perfidious—"The Little More"—Winter Quarters—More Perfidy—Russians Concentrating—Captured Maxims—A Missing Messenger—The Battle Ground—Nogi dashes North—Hemmed In—Nogi cuts the Railway—The North Road—A Carnival of Blood"You have sold us completely, Ivan Ivanovitch," said Borisoff as they walked back towards the inn. "I suppose that rascally guide of ours led us into this trap.""All's fair in war, you know. He is Wang Shih, Ah Lum's principal lieutenant.""He deserves to be hanged!" growled the captain. "So do you, Mr. Brown.""We seldom get our deserts, Captain. But I think Lieutenant Borisoff had better make a round of the houses and tell your men of the surrender. I will send word to our man outside bidding him keep his Chunchuses in hand for the present. In a few minutes I will rejoin you at the inn."As the lieutenant visited house after house he recognized how hopeless resistance would have been. At the given signal every dwelling would have been rushed, and before the Cossacks could have realized what was happening they must have fallen to a man. The crestfallen troops were paraded and disarmed in the street; then by the light of flares the convoy was got ready, and an hour and a half later it set off from the village up the hillside, escorted by the Chunchuses, to join Ah Lum some fifteen miles away. Jack stood at the door of the inn beside Captain Kargopol as the convoy and prisoners filed past. Nearly a hundred pack-mules heavily laden with ammunition, winter clothing, and provisions, and a hundred and fifty Cossacks, formed the prize of his ingenuity.Several mules and their loads were left behind for the benefit of the villagers who had assisted in the plot."You had better hide them," said Jack to the headman. "There is a large Cossack force only ten miles away: they may be down upon you at any moment."He learnt later that hardly were the last of the ponies and their loads secured in caves and hollows among the hills when, shortly after dawn, a squadron of Cossacks galloped up—the advance guard of the twelve hundred men whom Captain Kargopol was to have joined with his convoy. The commander was furious when he heard the news, told him with much sympathy by the headman, who reserved none of the details save only the participation of the villagers. Finding the track followed by the Chunchuses, the commander sent a galloper back with the news and himself pushed on in pursuit. But after three hours' hard riding his squadron was effectually checked by a handful of men in a defile, and by the time he had received sufficient support to force the pass the convoy had reached Ah Lum's encampment, and nothing but a battle could recover it.During the northward march Jack rode between Captain Kargopol and Lieutenant Borisoff. They were eager for the promised explanation of his partnership with brigands. Jack had already made up his mind to be chary of details. He would give no hostages to fortune in the shape of information that might be used against him later; nor would he say anything about the friends whose assistance had been so valuable to him. Of Gabriele Walewska and the missionary, of Herr Schwab and the compradore's brother, he therefore said never a word. The gist of his explanation was that, being uncertain and suspicious in regard to his father's fate, he had resolved to stay in the country, and found that he could only do so safely in disguise. This being penetrated by Sowinski's acuteness, he had perforce taken refuge with Ah Lum, one of whose lieutenants was an old friend of his."That rascally guide of ours, I suppose," said Borisoff. "Well, it happens that I can give you a little information——""About my father?'"No, I know nothing about him. A few weeks ago a curious thing happened to that fellow Sowinski, a man I loathe. Kuropatkin received a telegram from Petersburg asking for particulars of the charges brought against your father, and for information as to his whereabouts. Your Foreign Office had apparently been making enquiries. Kuropatkin knew nothing about it, of course; after some delay he discovered that Bekovitch had dealt with the matter. Bekovitch produced a number of letters found in your father's office conclusively showing that he had been in treasonable correspondence with the Japanese——""That's a lie!" said Jack."Well, there were the letters," said Borisoff with a shrug. "Kuropatkin asked if there was any independent evidence. Bekovitch at once sent Sinetsky for Sowinski. He couldn't find the man, and though he left an urgent message he didn't turn up. So he went to his house again early next morning. There was nobody about, the door was wide open, and he walked in. The house was empty, but he thought he heard a strange rustling in a big press in the dining-room; Sowinski had appropriated your house, by the way. He opened the door, and there was the Pole, gagged, tied hand and foot, and nearly dead from exhaustion. Sinetsky cut him loose; the poor wretch couldn't speak for half an hour, his tongue was so much swollen. He'd been tied up by a Chinese servant, it appeared, though the job must have taken more than one man.""Yes—I was the other.""You!" The officers laughed heartily. "You're a perfect demon of ingenuity, Ivan Ivanovitch. Why didn't he say it was you?""He had his reasons, I suppose. What happened then?""He went to Kuropatkin and swore to all manner of things against your father. The information was telegraphed to Petersburg, and that's all I know about it.""But where is my father?""I don't know. Bekovitch didn't know, or professed he didn't. I fancy he had taken care not to know, in case any unpleasant questions were asked.""But someone must know. Confound it, Lieutenant, is the whole Staft a conspiracy of silence?""It appears that Bekovitch sent your father to Kriloff, and Kriloff is dead. I suppose enquiries were made, but so far as I know nothing has come to light.""I never heard of such villainy!" said Jack, his indignation getting the better of him. "I had always believed the Russian officer was a gentleman.""Oh, come now!" said Captain Kargopol, "you English haven't a monopoly of the virtues. You can't throw stones, after the dirty trick your government has played us.""What do you mean?""You haven't heard? I forgot: I suppose your Ah Lum doesn't subscribe to theManchurian Army Gazette. The Baltic Fleet was attacked by British torpedo-boats in the North Sea; Admiral Rozhdestvenski very properly fired and sank one or two. Some trawlers got in the way and were rather knocked about: unfortunately a few men were killed, and your canting press of course set up a howl and clamoured for war. But it's we who are the injured party: you may be the ally of Japan, but that's no excuse for an unprovoked attack on our fleet.""Really, Captain, pardon me, but the story's absurd. When did this torpedo attack take place?""At night, of course; you don't suppose they'd dare to attack battleships in broad daylight.""Then depend upon it there was a mistake. Someone was scared by the sight of a trawler. It's ridiculous to suppose that our government sent torpedo-boats on such a silly errand as that.""Well, they might have hired Scandinavian boats, to save their face."Jack repressed a smile. It was evidently of no use to argue with the captain."Time will show," he said. "By the way, Mr. Wang," he added, seeing the Chunchuse a few paces away, "what did you do with Hu Hang?""I am very sorry, sir," said Wang Shih with a look of sincere penitence. "It was quite a mistake—I was excited, and I squeezed too hard.""You strangled him?""Yes. It is a pity—a great waste. I fear the chief will be angry. Hu was a strong man—he would have lasted for days.""Oh!"Understanding what he meant, Jack thought it just as well. He doubted whether his influence with Ah Lum and the band would have been enough to preserve the informer from the most gruesome and lingering tortures Chinese inventiveness could devise."And what became of Ch'u Tan?""He stabbed himself.""Anticipating a worse fate," Jack explained to the officers."We are aware of our good fortune in falling into your hands, Ivan Ivanovitch," said Borisoff gravely; "and if, when we are rescued, I can do anything——""Thanks, Lieutenant! I don't owe much to the Russians," he added bitterly, "my father less. When he is righted I shall hope perhaps to pick up my old friendships again."Towards the close of the day the convoy reached Ah Lum's mountain fastness. The chief's little eyes gleamed when he saw the great haul made by his son's tutor."You are bold enough to stroke a tiger's beard," he said. "Where there is musk, there will of course be perfume."The supplies captured were very welcome. Ah Lum had found it necessary to lie low, to avoid the forces on the hunt for him. But after a few days he learnt that the troops from the Korean frontier had been recalled, and the only Russian column now in the mountains was nearly a hundred miles away. He could therefore afford to live on his gains for a time.The band settled down to a period of quiet camp life. The Cossacks were distributed over the settlement and carefully guarded. Jack proceeded with the education of Ah Fu, and the further training of his men. There was considerable competition among the Chunchuses for enrolment in his corps; he was looked upon as lucky, a special favourite of heaven. For himself, he regarded his position differently. Harassed with anxiety as to his father's fate; among uncongenial surroundings; an exile, without anyone to confide in as a friend; he felt anything but lucky. As week after week passed he grew terribly weary of his life; winter had settled down upon the hills; the snow lay inches thick, and even the warm clothing captured from the Cossacks—the fur caps, thick gray overcoats, felt-lined boots, ear gloves, and what not—proved but insufficient protection against the intense cold. He volunteered for what active work was going; but there was little, and he did not covet the command of any of the parties that went out from time to time to replenish the larder. Ah Lum was punctilious in giving receipts for the supplies he requisitioned from the country people, but Jack felt that they were little likely to be paid for: it was a mere form at the best. And the villagers could ill afford the contributions demanded, though after all they were better off than their countrymen living in the main current of the war. To all except the few merchants and contractors, who made huge profits by supplying the rival armies, the war had brought blank ruin.Occasionally news of the progress of the war filtered through the country. Jack learnt that Admiral Alexeieff, after continual wrangling with Kuropatkin, had been recalled; that the combatants had gone into winter quarters on opposite sides of the Sha-ho, both Russians and Japanese living in dug-outs, called by the Russianszemliankas; that Port Arthur was still holding out, though from Chinese reports it seemed inevitable that the end must soon come; that fresh troops were continually arriving from Europe. One day a dirty copy of theManchurian Army Gazettewas brought into the camp; the Chinese are always loth to destroy anything written or printed. The most interesting item of news it held for Jack, and one on which he had a battle-royal of argument with the Russian officers, was the statement that theOcean, a British battleship on the China station, had been sold to the Japanese, and would appear in the next naval fight as theYushima, which the Russians declared had been sunk by a mine while blockading Port Arthur. Captain Kargopol stoutly maintained that this was another instance of British perfidy, and came very near to losing his temper when Jack refused to take the report seriously, and bantered him on his anti-British prejudice.At last, one bright cold January day a Chinaman came in with the news that Port Arthur had fallen. Jack could not but sympathize with the captive officers. Personally they were the best of comrades; their distrust of England did not alloy the cordiality of their relations with Jack; and their air of hopeless dejection was distressing to one who bore neither to them nor to their nation any enduring ill-will.A few days afterwards Ah Lum learnt that the Russian column which had been watching him had suddenly decamped. The inference was obvious. The fall of the great fortress had released a large number of Japanese troops, and Kuropatkin was concentrating against the forward movement now to be expected. This information had considerable importance for Ah Lum. He had been canvassing the desirability of moving towards Kirin, leaving only a small force in the hills to watch the Russians. Their sudden retreat, however, caused him to change his plan. He resolved to follow them. There was more chance of safety for him if he kept to the hills within a few marches of the combatant armies than if he was completely isolated and likely to be cut off by several mobile columns operating against him. It was hardly likely that the Russians would now spare any troops from the fighting line to interfere with him. He was only a mosquito after all, though his sting had more than once proved extremely irritating. His only concern was to be near enough without being too near. In the last resort he could go over to the Japanese; but he disliked the Japanese only less than the Russians, and preferred to keep aloof. It would be time enough to approach the Japanese when they were well on the road to Harbin and the area of his possible operations became more restricted.The camp was therefore struck. By easy marches the band came to within eighty miles of Moukden. Then, having made complete arrangements for the approach of any Russian force to be signalled to him from point to point, Ah Lum encamped and awaited a favourable opportunity of cutting across the Russian line of communications.To none was the change of scene more welcome than to Jack. He had been worrying for some time past at the absence of news from the compradore; that he had sent no message made Jack fear that the man had returned to Moukden and been made to suffer by Sowinski or General Bekovitch for his young master's escape. Growing more and more restless, disappointed also that no news of his father had been gleaned by any of Ah Lum's agents in different parts of the country, he at last made up his mind to venture once more into Moukden. It was necessary to ask leave of Ah Lum; and Jack, in his present state of mind, was not disposed to be fobbed off with maxims and proverbs.As he expected, the chief looked very solemn and endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose."It is like a blind fowl picking at random after worms," he said. "It is like attempting to carry an olive on the pate of a priest. You have already had a very narrow escape. You may not be so fortunate next time.""I must insist, Mr. Ah," said Jack. "Anything is better than suspense.""I will send a man for you. A wise man never does himself what he can employ another to do for him.""Yes; but if one will not enter a tiger's lair, how can he obtain her whelps?"He cited the proverb with the utmost gravity. Ah Lum was taken aback. Were his own maxims to be turned against him? He pondered for a moment."All things are according to heaven," he said with a resigned air. "Still, I will send a man with you; let him go before you into Moukden; then you must act as you think best on receipt of information. To die or to live is according to fate."When it became known in the camp that Jack, or Sin Foo as he was there known, was about to leave, many of the Chunchuses were eager to accompany him. He found his popularity, and the extraordinary belief in his luck, rather embarrassing. He thanked these willing volunteers, but declined their company: Hi Lo and the man selected by Ah Lum were to be his only attendants.Soon after dark on a bitter February night Jack, with his two companions, rode up to the farm of Wang Shih's people, some fifteen miles from Moukden. They were overjoyed to see him, and to hear news of their son and brother. Old Mr. Wang, when he learnt that his son was now Ah Lum's chief lieutenant, rubbed his hands with delight and foretold that he would die a mandarin. It would not be the first time in the history of China that a successful brigand had been bought back to the cause of law and order by the bribe of high official rank. Mrs. Wang was garrulous about a second visit paid them about Christmas-time by Monsieur Brin, who had consoled himself for his failures as a war correspondent by studying Chinese social arrangements at first hand. The simple folk readily agreed to put Jack up for a few days; it would have been impossible to find more comfortable quarters during his period of waiting.Next morning Ah Lum's man went into Moukden. By mid-day he had returned. The compradore had never been seen in the city since he left for Harbin on the morning of Jack's departure. But the Chunchuse agent Me Hong had learnt one trifling fact about Mr. Brown; he was surprised that his chief was still in ignorance of it. The English merchant had been seen and recognized among a gang of convicts at Kuan-cheng-tzü. Me Hong had sent off the news at once by a messenger to Ah Lum; the runner had vanished. He had not returned to Moukden; certainly he had never reached the Chunchuse camp. Sowinski was still in the city; so, the messenger believed, was the "Toitsche war-look-see man"; but there were so many of the fraternity living in Moukden that he was not sure that his information on that point was correct.He brought other news. Another great battle was evidently impending. The Japanese had for weeks been steadily pushing forward. They had cut the railway-line south of Moukden; two regiments of their cavalry had crept round the Russian left, and had been seen within a few miles of Harbin; and it was reported among the Chinese that Generals Nogi and Oku were preparing a great turning movement on the right. The city was full to overflowing with refugees; many were streaming northward; the Russo-Chinese bank had packed up its chests and decamped; and the Chinese viceroy was in a terrible state of anxiety for the safety of the palace and the ancient tombs of the Manchu emperors.This news almost tempted Jack to venture again within the city. But on second thoughts he decided to run no risks of meeting Sowinski. The imminence of another great battle, however, perhaps to prove the decisive battle of the war, created a keen longing to witness the scene; and next day, taking leave of his kind hosts, he set off with Hi Lo for a little village lying between the Moukden railway-station and Sin-min-ting. Hi Lo had relatives there with whom they could safely stay.The battle-ground was in essentials a repetition of that of Liao-yang, though on a much larger scale. The Russians had thrown up an immense line of entrenchments extending in a rough semicircle from Sin-min-ting on the north-west of the city to Ping-ling on the east, with Moukden as the centre. Comprising a range of low hills for the greater part of its course, the position was naturally strong, and it had been fortified for months with all the devices known to the military engineer—pits, abattis, barbed-wire entanglements, forts of solid masonry bristling with huge guns. Snow lay upon the ground, frozen so hard that the passage of cavalry across it raised clouds of white dust. The plain to the west and south of the city was one vast whiteness: yet that peaceful scene was the arena on which three-quarters of a million of men were preparing to spill their blood in blind obedience to duty—to contend with desperate earnestness in one of the decisive battles of the world.The Russian right wing was composed of the Second Manchurian Army under General Kaulbars, resting on an arc between Sin-min-ting and Moukden. The centre, south of the city, was held by General Bilderling with the Third Army; the left, thrown out as far south-east as Tsin-khe-chen, was entrusted to General Linievitch and the First Army. It was here that the first attack was made. On February 19 General Kawawura threw his right flank detachment against the Russian works, and, after a fight prolonged over five days, drove the Russians back towards Fa-ling. Meanwhile General Kuroki moved forward upon Kao-tu-ling, and succeeded in forcing his way northward, and General Nodzu, from his position on the Sha-ho, opened a furious bombardment on the exact centre of the Russian lines. By these movements General Kuropatkin was led to expect that the brunt of the fighting would fall upon his centre and left; in reality they were designed to hold his attention while more formidable operations were developed on his right.It was on the last day of February that General Oku's army deployed between the Sha-ho and the Hun-ho, and General Nogi started with incredible rapidity on his northward march. By the time General Kuropatkin became aware of the danger threatening his communications on the right, Nogi had made such progress and so skilfully disposed his forces that to crush him was out of the question; all that Kaulbars could do was to fall back towards Moukden and oppose as stubborn a resistance as possible. The assaults of Kuroki and Nodzu on the centre were so fierce and persistent that Kuropatkin had no troops to spare for the reinforcement of his jeopardized right flank. Doggedly, intrepidly, the indomitable Japanese pressed home their attack. The Russians clung heroically to their positions, and rolled back charge after charge; but still the enemy returned, seeming to gain in vigour and enthusiasm after each repulse. They charged with bayonets, with grenades, with shovels and picks; sometimes, when they penetrated the Russian entrenchments, flinging down their weapons and going to it with their fists. The trenches were filled with corpses; the frozen ground all around was dyed red with blood; there was no respite day or night; men fell, their places were filled, and foe met foe over the bodies of the slain.For ten days the issue was in doubt. Then, on March 5, Kuroki was across the Sha-ho; Nogi had swept through Sin-min-ting towards the railway; Marshal Oyama's huge army was flinging its octopus tentacles around the Russian position, vast as it was. Kuropatkin, most unfortunate of generals, on March 8 found it necessary to withdraw his centre and left behind the line of the Hun-ho, and collect every unit that could be spared by Kaulbars and Bilderling to stem the advance of Oku and Nogi.Meanwhile the Russian left had opposed a bold front to Kuroki and Kawawura. Unable to make a successful offensive movement, Linievitch stubbornly retreated in good order beyond the Hun-ho, and entrenched himself in a new position there. But around Moukden the plight of the Russian army was becoming desperate. As the terrible enemy crept on towards the city from all sides save the north-east, the Russian troops, packed into a constantly diminishing space, and exposed to a converging fire, fell in thousands. More than once the Russians attempted to break through. The gallant Kuropatkin in person led a terrific attack on Oku at the head of sixty-five battalions, and his splendid men fought with such courage and determination that for a while it seemed the Japanese advance must be checked. But at this critical moment, when the Russians were at least holding their own on the right centre and left, and Oyama was concentrating to hurl them back, an event had taken place at the left centre that proved to be Fortune's cast of the die. Early on the morning of March 9, Kuropatkin received the news that Kuroki had driven a wedge between Bilderling and Linievitch. Those generals in falling back on the Hun-ho had temporarily lost touch: and the Japanese general, who had never made a mistake throughout the war, was quick to seize this opportunity of breaking the enemy's line. On the same day Nogi got across the railway between Moukden and Tieling; nothing but instant retreat could save the Second and Third Russian armies from annihilation or capture; and at nightfall on that fifteenth day of the battle the order to retreat was given.Next day at ten in the morning the Japanese entered the city, and with their entrance burst the bubble of Russian domination in Manchuria. Scattered parties of Russians fought on for several days in the neighbouring villages; but with Nogi astride of the main line of retreat and every northern road, the Russians were forced to abandon everything and take to the hills. Two days afterwards the Japanese had chased their enemy full thirty miles to the north; Kuropatkin's great army, broken, routed, had well-nigh ceased to be.Jack is never likely to forget that terrible fortnight. During the first few days he witnessed nothing of the fighting; he heard the reverberations of the guns, and saw crowds of natives hastening from the villages in the line of the Japanese advance, bearing with them everything portable that could be saved from the impending ruin. At night, standing on the broken mud wall, he beheld in the far distance a dull glow in the sky that told of houses burning, and thought of the untold misery inflicted upon a peaceable and industrious people by the greed of rival governments. But as the tide of battle rolled northward, and the roar of the guns grew louder, other evidences of the terrific struggle came within his ken. Ever and anon a train would rumble northward along the line, with wagon-loads of wounded. The darkness of the nights was now illuminated with bursting star-shells, and the red flare of burning villages nearer at hand. One morning, in the twilight before dawn, he saw an immense column of smoke rise over the Russian settlement by the station. It was in flames. Venturing out with Hi Lo, he soon came upon stragglers from the army, and by and by upon a huge block of horse and foot and artillery, field-telegraph wagons, mess carts, ambulances—all in inextricable confusion, jammed in their frantic efforts to escape. Trains rolled along, crowded to the roofs of the carriages, even to the engine itself, with soldiers; carts lay overturned, broken, wheelless, on the roads and fields; the air was loaded with the acrid fumes from piles of blazing goods, clothing, and forage, burnt to prevent their falling into the hands of the conquerors.The retreat from Liao-yang had been orderly and not uncheerful; the retreat from Moukden was an orgy of riot and misery. There was no order in the ranks: the officers made no efforts—made, they would have been in vain—to check the insubordination of their men. Some as they fled had looted the sutlers' carts and roamed at large, defenceless, intoxicated, singing wild songs, dropping to the ground, to be frozen stiff in a few minutes. Others tramped along, moody, taciturn, mad, going blindly they knew not whither, they knew not why. Here a horse's head could be seen above the crowd, its eyes bloodshot and haggard, its nostrils dilated. There a horse fell; the throng thickened around it; harsh voices were raised in imprecation; then the movement recommenced, and nothing was heard but the tramping of feet and the crunching of wheels. Wounded men dropped and froze in their blood; others staggered this way and that, having lost all power to govern their limbs; and still in the distance artillery boomed, flames crackled, and the smoke of burning homesteads rose into the sky.Sick at heart, Jack returned to the village. That evening the Japanese entered it, bringing with them a number of Russian prisoners and wounded, these having been carefully tended by the Japanese ambulance corps. Jack lent what assistance he could in finding cottages where the more seriously injured could remain. "Strange," he thought, "that war, which brings out the worst in men, should bring out also all that is best."CHAPTER XXIAh Lum at BaySchwab again Retreats—A Business Friend—Reinstated—A Little Light—Ah Lum Threatened—A Thousand Roubles Reward—The Lessening Circle—A Mountain Tiger—Mirage—Ah Lum's Lament—A Cossack CloakIt was not merely curiosity that had held Jack within the area of fighting. He clung with a sort of superstition to the belief that his father's fate was inwoven with the fate of the Russian army. He had a conviction, perfectly illogical, that a victory for Japan would favour his quest. There was so much truth in this idea as that amid the disorders of a Russian retreat he might hope to pass undetected in his disguise. The Russians would be too busy to look closely into the bona-fides of a mere Chinaman, one of thousands who would be swept northwards on the tide. He could easily keep out of sight of the few who might recognize him.He thus had a purely personal interest in the result of the battle. Convinced that the compradore must have remained with his brother in Harbin, he had resolved to go north and learn from the man's own lips the issue of his enquiries. When the victorious army had rolled by, he set off with Hi Lo in its wake.One day, a few miles north of Tieling, he was riding slowly along, contrasting his present position with the different circumstances under which he had made the retreat from Liao-yang, with Mr. Schwab's precious tripod in his care, when, a little ahead of him, he caught sight of a solitary figure trudging wearily along. It needed but one glance at the broad back. The tired pedestrian was Schwab himself—and he was carrying the camera.Jack's lips twitched. To this had come the descendant of the great Hildebrand Suobensius, the itinerant representative of Germany's imperial might! There was matter for amusement in the reflection, and for sympathy too: Schwab's patriotism was genuine; his little vanities were harmless enough; and whatever else might be said of him, he was devoted to the interests of the Schlagintwert company. Jack resolved to make himself known to the correspondent, who could have no interest in betraying him to the Russians. Cantering up behind, he heard Schwab sighing and muttering under his breath."Excellenz," he said, "my Sin Foo——"At the first word Schwab swung round with an alacrity that betokened as much pleasure as surprise."Ach!" he said, "I know you; you are imbostor. I am delighted. I abologize.""That's very good of you, Herr Schwab, but I don't know why.""Vy! Vy, for my vant of gombrehension, my zickness of shkull. But you did bretend; zat you muss gonfess; and I did bay you your vages, so!"Jack smiled."I've nothing to complain of," he said. "To you I was a Chinese servant, and I never want a better master.""Say you so? I vill shake hands viz you. Zere vas talk about you in Moukden; vy truly, zey gratulate me for because I haf, zey say, a so clever servant. Ach, mein freund! you see me; I am sad, I am broken; no longer am I vat I haf been."Schwab proceeded to tell a pitiful story. He had started on the retreat in company with Sowinski, with whom he had arranged a great deal of business against the termination of the war. One night they had taken refuge in a Chinese hovel. Schwab had carefully put the satchel containing his papers and money under his head. In the night he had heard and felt a movement, and, springing up in the dark, seized and held an arm. The arm was wrenched away, then Sowinski's voice asked whether he had heard anything."'Yes, certainly,' I said, 'I zink zere is a zief. 'Shtrike a light!' I cry. Zere shtrikes a light; I look for my zinks; siehe da! eferyzink is gone. Against ze door had I blaced a big kettle, for to gif notice if anyvun intrude. Zere it is, in ze same sbot. I say: 'Sowinski, you are vun big scoundrel; gif me my money!' Zen he burst into fearful bassion; he bresent me a bistol and demand instant abology. For myself, I am berfeckly cool. I egsblain I am business man; certainly it is not my business to fight, ven ze ozer man hold a revolver. I abologize; Sowinski say he is satisfied; but zen he say I had cast asbersion on his honour; no longer could he travel in my gompany; he demand me to get out. Vat could I? Ze bistol muzzle vas at my head. It is gombulsion. I vat you call clear out, viz my photographabbaratus. But my trouble only begins. My mafoo, vere is he? Vizout doubt he has abbrobriated my bony. Zere am I, zen, viz no babers, no money, no bony, nozink in ze vide vorld but my camera. I cannot send a message to zeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonien: vere is ze money to gome from? Ze Kaiser,—alas! he is in Berlin. I zink vat is var gorresbondence for a kind of business? I try to sell my camera; no vun buys. Ze Russian soldier is good comrade, ver' fine fellow; for zree days I eat nozink but vat he gif me. But ze officers—ach! ven I egsblain to zem, zey are all too busy to listen; zey tell me, abbly Colonel Egoroff. But Colonel Egoroff, vere is he? Nobody know. Nobody know vere nobody is. All is gonfusion and upside-down. I never see nozink so unbusinesslike novere."As he told his story Schwab trudged along beside Jack's pony. Jack did not interrupt him; the man's relief in finding someone to lend him a sympathizing ear was so obvious."You have had an uncommonly hard time," he said. "I'm very sorry. What do you think of doing?""Zink! I zink nozink. My brain is no more vat it vas. All I can do, you see it; I valk and valk; I beg my bread, vich is Russian biscuit. Nefer shall I see ze Vaterland no more. Hildebrand Schwab is gome to an end.""Cheer up! What do you say to taking me on as your servant again?""Zat is unkind, to mock at me.""Believe me, nothing is further from my thoughts. I mean it. There will be some risk for you and for me, but it's worth chancing. Let me explain my plan."Jack saw in Schwab's plight a means of advancing his own quest, and at the same time doing a good turn to the unfortunate representative of theIllustrirte Vaterland, for whom, in spite of certain unlovely characteristics, he had a real liking. As servant of a European, far from any place where he was likely to be recognized, Jack thought he would probably reach Harbin more quickly than as a masterless Chinese fugitive. He proposed that they should make for the railway. The nearest point was Erh-shih-li-pu, the junction of the Kirin branch with the main line. It was not unlikely that if Schwab told his story there the officials would give him a passage to Harbin. The German eagerly accepted the proposal. Jack insisted on his mounting the pony; it was necessary, he explained, to keep up appearances, but his firmness on the point was really due to the quite obvious fact that Schwab was completely worn out. At the first village both Jack and Hi Lo made a few alterations in their dress, so as to look as little like Schwab's former servants as possible; and without more than the expected difficulties and delays, the three at length reached Erh-shih-li-pu. Luckily at the station Schwab was recognized by a Russian officer, a member of Stackelberg's staff, who had once dined with the foreign correspondents at the Green Dragon in Moukden. On hearing the German's troubles he readily agreed to give him a pass to Harbin for himself and his servants, and would not allow the fares to be paid; Jack had previously pressed upon Schwab some of his rouble notes. Thus on a bright March day, when the frozen ground was sparkling in the sunshine, the three travellers arrived in Harbin. Schwab was lucky in obtaining quarters in the Oriental Hotel; Jack made his way at once with Hi Lo to the house of his uncle, the grain merchant, and there, as he had expected, found Hi An. The two brothers were delighted to see their visitors, and there was a touching scene of welcome between Hi Lo and his father.For Jack there was but one crumb of information. Hi Feng, as he had promised, had set on foot such enquiries as seemed safe, especially along the railway line. About a fortnight after Jack left Harbin in the horse-box, a customer of Hi Feng came in with the news that he had seen a man answering to the description of Mr. Brown among a batch of prisoners at Imien-po on the Harbin-Vladivostok section. The train was apparently bound for Vladivostok, but it had remained for twenty-four hours on a siding, and the man's business had not allowed him to wait to see what became of it. Hi Feng had himself travelled to the place; the train had of course by that time departed; and the Chinese of the neighbourhood could give him no information about it; one train was to them like another, and delays at this siding were of constant occurrence.Jack shuddered to think what his father's sufferings must have been during the protracted journey. His blood boiled when he saw Russian officers in the streets; his rage against Bekovitch poisoned his former good-will towards them. He fumed under his utter helplessness; he could do nothing. To some extent the information received narrowed the area of search. The fact of the train having been seen at Imien-po showed that the prisoners had been taken either to Eastern Siberia or to Sakhalin. Whichever it might be, Mr. Brown would be equally unable to communicate with his son, and his removal from Manchuria seemed to destroy all chance of help from the Chinese. To them Siberia and Sakhalin are foreign lands; and if Siberia was remote, Sakhalin was inaccessible. Being wholly a penal settlement, there was little chance of getting into or out of its ports undetected.Jack remained for several weeks with Hi Feng, hoping against hope. Herr Schwab was still at the Oriental Hotel. Exposure to cold, lack of sufficient food, and his mental anxieties had broken down the German's robust health, and for a fortnight he lay at death's door. Monsieur Brin happened to be at the same hotel; he had missed every fight, solely through his own restlessness, which sent him backwards and forwards from place to place—never the time and the place and the correspondent together. He was a good-hearted fellow, and, finding a German lying ill and not too carefully tended, he constituted himself sick nurse, and devoted himself to his self-imposed duties with unusual constancy. He had his reward in the patient's convalescence. As soon as Schwab was able to sit up and take a little nourishment, Brin undertook to prove to him that the Kaiser in Berlin was the Man of Sin, and for a good fortnight he had much the better of the argument.One day Hi Feng learnt that a great effort was at last being made against Ah Lum. He had already been defeated by a large force of Cossacks, and driven from the neighbourhood of Kirin north-eastwards towards the Harbin-Vladivostok railway. Strong columns were hard upon his heels in pursuit. Through his position as forage contractor to the Russians, Hi Feng already knew that a large body of Cossacks was shortly to leave Harbin for a place half-way between that town and Vladivostok. Putting the two pieces of news together, and making discreet enquiries, he found that it was intended to make a sudden dash upon Ah Lum's line of retreat and dispose of him once for all. The evacuation of Moukden and the narrowing of the area of country open to the Russians in Manchuria had made the presence of a strong guerrilla force within their lines insupportable. Ah Lum must be rooted out.Hi Feng was to deliver a large quantity of forage within ten days; it was pretty safe to infer that the expedition would start from Harbin soon afterwards. Jack felt that Ah Lum must be warned at once. Furthermore, he was much disposed to rejoin the Chunchuses. Without overrating his abilities, he knew that he had been able to do something for them, and what he had learnt about his father's treatment did not make him more friendly to the Russians or less inclined to do what he could to thwart them. If he had seen any chance of reaching or communicating with his father he might have taken a different view: having left Ah Lum with that purpose there would be no call for him to abandon his quest. But it was now clear that his enquiries must be pursued through Russian agents. He therefore decided to rejoin Ah Lum. At the same time he would let it be known that a reward of 1000 roubles should be paid to anyone giving him certain information of his father's whereabouts. This offer, judiciously circulated through Chinese channels among the officials of the railway, might bring definite news.There was another consideration. Among the Chunchuses, so long as Ah Lum held his own, Jack would be out of reach of the Russian authorities. If he remained in Harbin, or any other Russian centre, the news of his offer would at once put his enemies on his track. While he was in Ah Lum's camp Hi Feng or his brother the compradore could easily communicate with him if they received any information.Once more, then, he set out to join Ah Lum, Hi Lo accompanying him. He travelled in the guise of a Chinese farmer. Each took two ponies, and they pushed on with great rapidity, riding the animals alternately. By means of the secret signs used by Ah Lum, Jack soon got upon the chief's track. Making a wide detour to avoid the Russian columns now steadily driving Ah Lum towards the point whence the Harbin force was to complete his encirclement, he came upon the Chunchuses from the east, and early one morning rode into the brigand camp.His arrival was regarded as a favourable omen. It was likened by Ah Lum to the delightfulness of rain after long drought. Sin Foo was lucky; Fortune would now surely smile. The Chunchuses were, in fact, in a somewhat critical position. The camp, only one day old, was pitched in a valley of the Chang-ling hills some twenty miles above the Kan-hu lake—an extensive sheet of water nearly thirty miles long and of varying breadth. Fifty miles to the north lay the nearest point on the railway, about 150 miles from Harbin and twice as far from Vladivostok, the line threading a tortuous path among the hills. A considerable Russian force sent out from Kirin was known to be at Wo-ke-chan to the south-west; from this place a winter track led over the hills to the head of the La-lin-ho valley, within striking distance of Ah Lum's camp. Another column, at O-mu-so to the south, commanded the upper valley of the Mu-tan-chiang, and while cutting off access to Ah Lum's old quarters on the upper Sungari, threatened his left flank by the high-road to Ninguta. At that place, some eighty miles from O-mu-so, a third column covered the passes into the Lao-ling mountains on the east. The bandits were thus in a ring-fence. Only the north was open, and Jack's news confirmed the wary chief's suspicions that the apparent gap in the north had been left with the sole object of tempting him into the neighbourhood of the railway, on which an overwhelming force was held in readiness.The confirmation of his suspicions roused the chief from the dejection into which the gradual tightening of the coils had thrown him. From an attitude almost of despair he now rose to a spirit of sullen determination. The Russians were gradually closing around him; they would drive him to bay."The tiger comes to eat the fly," he said. "Wah! he may prove a wooden tiger. The Russians shall see what it is to draw a badger. I own, honoured sir, I thought once of disbanding my force. But on reflection I have come to another mind. The very villagers who have been most willing to help me would probably turn against me retreating, and sell me to the Russians. He who advances may fight, but he who retreats must take care of himself. It is better to die fighting. Adversity is necessary to the development of men's virtues. I will choose a strong position and await the flood. It will not be long in coming. The Russians, I doubt not, when their arrangements along the railway are complete, will advance at the same time from east, west, and south, driving me against the spears of the Cossacks hiding behind the railway to the north. I have only 600 men left. There has been much fighting since you left, honoured sir; my men are exhausted with constant marching and insufficient food. It is not easy to stop the fire when water is at a distance."Jack found that the Russian prisoners were no longer with the Chunchuses. Ah Lum had been glad to exchange them against as many of his band captured during the recent fight. But for this exchange his force would have been even smaller than it was. He was hopelessly outnumbered by the Russians, each of whose columns was about 1200 strong. Their horses were in good condition; and the work of chasing the Chunchuses having devolved on one only of the columns at a time, the Cossacks were not so much worn out as their quarry, who had been kept moving constantly.Ah Lum and Jack discussed the situation in great detail. There seemed indeed no way out. To fight or to disband: those were the alternatives, each fraught with peril if not disaster. Another fight would probably be the last, for the Russians would hardly make a serious attack until they had the wily brigand who had given them so much trouble completely surrounded. With perhaps 5000 men engaged on one side and only 600 on the other there was but one result to be expected.If the gap to the north had really been a gap—if the Russians had been as stupid as they wished Ah Lum to believe—there would still have been a chance. The chief explained that far to the north, in the high hills above the lower valley of the Mu-tan-chiang, he might hope to elude pursuit for an indefinite period. It was a wild, mountainous, almost uninhabited country, in which the only difficulty would be that of subsistence, not of hiding. But a Chunchuse can live on much less than a Cossack, little though the latter requires. If only Ah Lum could have gained those hills, he could have shown a clean pair of heels to his pursuers.Regrets, however, were useless. "It is no good climbing a tree to hunt for fish." The appearance of the Chunchuses within twenty miles of the railway would be the signal for a simultaneous movement of squadron upon squadron of Cossacks from east and west, while the three columns now closing upon them would seize the opportunity of occupying the passes in their rear, hemming them within a small circle where they would soon be annihilated."No," said Ah Lum, "I can only eat my three meals in the day and look forward to sleeping at night. It is impossible to stand on two ships at once. I shall stay here, occupy the approaches on each side, and fight to the last gasp. Death has no terror for me. I can eat my rice looking towards heaven. My only trouble is my son, my only son Ah Fu. If I die, he will die; who then will do honour to my bones? True, I shall be remembered; as the scream of the eagle is heard when she has passed over, so a man's name remains after his death. But my cooking-range will go to a stranger; the ancestral tablets of my family will be broken; there will be none to sacrifice to my manes. And the boy: why should he be cut off? The growth of a mulberry-tree corresponds with its early bent. Ah Fu is a good boy, as you know, honoured sir. He is brave; I love him, and have been liberal in punishment, as the sage advises; his intelligence, though but a grain of millet, will in due time grow green to the height of a horse's head. I looked for him to endure the nine days' examination and write verses worthy of high office. Ai! ai!"Through the scholar's pedantries Jack saw the man's heart throbbing. He expressed his sympathy."Wah!" returned Ah Lum. "Calamity comes from heaven. After the pig has been killed it is useless to speak of the price. I have done all I can. The one thing remaining is to meet the inevitable end with dignity. But as for you, honoured sir, you have done enough. I do not ask you to stay. You have your own quest to follow. Let every man sweep the snow from before his own doors, and not heed the frost on his neighbour's tiles.""You are right, chief," said Jack. "But it has not come to that yet. There may be a way out even yet, and you have been so kind to me that I should not think of leaving you while there is any hope at all."Ah Lum's remark about the possibility of evading pursuit if he could reach the farther side of the railway had set Jack thinking. Was there no way out of his strait? Could the Russians, he wondered, be led off the scent, thus gaining time for the band to make a dash across the line? In the privacy of his little hut of kowliang stalks Jack pondered the problem long. But the more he thought, the less feasible the thing appeared. The railway gave the Russians so great a mobility: they could move troops so quickly up and down it, and now that the main armies were for the time quiescent, they had so many men available, that with only 600 Chunchuses there seemed no hope of such a dash being successful. He racked his brains far into the night. As the hours drew on, it became very cold; the north wind struck keenly. Looking around for an additional garment, Jack saw a military cloak, part of the stock of clothing captured from the Cossacks. He put it on, and tramped up and down, thinking and thinking again. The fur-lined cloak warmed him, by and by he became hot with the excitement of an idea. He rolled himself up in the cloak and tried to sleep, but his eyes were still unclosed when the chill dawn stole over the mountains. With racking head he sought an interview with the chief. For some hours they remained in earnest consultation. When the talk was ended Ah Lum rubbed his hands together and said:"If you succeed, honoured friend, we shall certainly escape the net. The task you have set yourself is difficult. It is like feeling after a pin on the bottom of the ocean. But whether you succeed or not, we shall owe you an unfathomable debt of gratitude. Choose what men you need; all will be proud to serve under you."Then, weary but light of heart, Jack returned to his hut and slept.
CHAPTER XX
The Battle of Moukden
Reservations—The Cupboard—Perfidious—"The Little More"—Winter Quarters—More Perfidy—Russians Concentrating—Captured Maxims—A Missing Messenger—The Battle Ground—Nogi dashes North—Hemmed In—Nogi cuts the Railway—The North Road—A Carnival of Blood
"You have sold us completely, Ivan Ivanovitch," said Borisoff as they walked back towards the inn. "I suppose that rascally guide of ours led us into this trap."
"All's fair in war, you know. He is Wang Shih, Ah Lum's principal lieutenant."
"He deserves to be hanged!" growled the captain. "So do you, Mr. Brown."
"We seldom get our deserts, Captain. But I think Lieutenant Borisoff had better make a round of the houses and tell your men of the surrender. I will send word to our man outside bidding him keep his Chunchuses in hand for the present. In a few minutes I will rejoin you at the inn."
As the lieutenant visited house after house he recognized how hopeless resistance would have been. At the given signal every dwelling would have been rushed, and before the Cossacks could have realized what was happening they must have fallen to a man. The crestfallen troops were paraded and disarmed in the street; then by the light of flares the convoy was got ready, and an hour and a half later it set off from the village up the hillside, escorted by the Chunchuses, to join Ah Lum some fifteen miles away. Jack stood at the door of the inn beside Captain Kargopol as the convoy and prisoners filed past. Nearly a hundred pack-mules heavily laden with ammunition, winter clothing, and provisions, and a hundred and fifty Cossacks, formed the prize of his ingenuity.
Several mules and their loads were left behind for the benefit of the villagers who had assisted in the plot.
"You had better hide them," said Jack to the headman. "There is a large Cossack force only ten miles away: they may be down upon you at any moment."
He learnt later that hardly were the last of the ponies and their loads secured in caves and hollows among the hills when, shortly after dawn, a squadron of Cossacks galloped up—the advance guard of the twelve hundred men whom Captain Kargopol was to have joined with his convoy. The commander was furious when he heard the news, told him with much sympathy by the headman, who reserved none of the details save only the participation of the villagers. Finding the track followed by the Chunchuses, the commander sent a galloper back with the news and himself pushed on in pursuit. But after three hours' hard riding his squadron was effectually checked by a handful of men in a defile, and by the time he had received sufficient support to force the pass the convoy had reached Ah Lum's encampment, and nothing but a battle could recover it.
During the northward march Jack rode between Captain Kargopol and Lieutenant Borisoff. They were eager for the promised explanation of his partnership with brigands. Jack had already made up his mind to be chary of details. He would give no hostages to fortune in the shape of information that might be used against him later; nor would he say anything about the friends whose assistance had been so valuable to him. Of Gabriele Walewska and the missionary, of Herr Schwab and the compradore's brother, he therefore said never a word. The gist of his explanation was that, being uncertain and suspicious in regard to his father's fate, he had resolved to stay in the country, and found that he could only do so safely in disguise. This being penetrated by Sowinski's acuteness, he had perforce taken refuge with Ah Lum, one of whose lieutenants was an old friend of his.
"That rascally guide of ours, I suppose," said Borisoff. "Well, it happens that I can give you a little information——"
"About my father?'
"No, I know nothing about him. A few weeks ago a curious thing happened to that fellow Sowinski, a man I loathe. Kuropatkin received a telegram from Petersburg asking for particulars of the charges brought against your father, and for information as to his whereabouts. Your Foreign Office had apparently been making enquiries. Kuropatkin knew nothing about it, of course; after some delay he discovered that Bekovitch had dealt with the matter. Bekovitch produced a number of letters found in your father's office conclusively showing that he had been in treasonable correspondence with the Japanese——"
"That's a lie!" said Jack.
"Well, there were the letters," said Borisoff with a shrug. "Kuropatkin asked if there was any independent evidence. Bekovitch at once sent Sinetsky for Sowinski. He couldn't find the man, and though he left an urgent message he didn't turn up. So he went to his house again early next morning. There was nobody about, the door was wide open, and he walked in. The house was empty, but he thought he heard a strange rustling in a big press in the dining-room; Sowinski had appropriated your house, by the way. He opened the door, and there was the Pole, gagged, tied hand and foot, and nearly dead from exhaustion. Sinetsky cut him loose; the poor wretch couldn't speak for half an hour, his tongue was so much swollen. He'd been tied up by a Chinese servant, it appeared, though the job must have taken more than one man."
"Yes—I was the other."
"You!" The officers laughed heartily. "You're a perfect demon of ingenuity, Ivan Ivanovitch. Why didn't he say it was you?"
"He had his reasons, I suppose. What happened then?"
"He went to Kuropatkin and swore to all manner of things against your father. The information was telegraphed to Petersburg, and that's all I know about it."
"But where is my father?"
"I don't know. Bekovitch didn't know, or professed he didn't. I fancy he had taken care not to know, in case any unpleasant questions were asked."
"But someone must know. Confound it, Lieutenant, is the whole Staft a conspiracy of silence?"
"It appears that Bekovitch sent your father to Kriloff, and Kriloff is dead. I suppose enquiries were made, but so far as I know nothing has come to light."
"I never heard of such villainy!" said Jack, his indignation getting the better of him. "I had always believed the Russian officer was a gentleman."
"Oh, come now!" said Captain Kargopol, "you English haven't a monopoly of the virtues. You can't throw stones, after the dirty trick your government has played us."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't heard? I forgot: I suppose your Ah Lum doesn't subscribe to theManchurian Army Gazette. The Baltic Fleet was attacked by British torpedo-boats in the North Sea; Admiral Rozhdestvenski very properly fired and sank one or two. Some trawlers got in the way and were rather knocked about: unfortunately a few men were killed, and your canting press of course set up a howl and clamoured for war. But it's we who are the injured party: you may be the ally of Japan, but that's no excuse for an unprovoked attack on our fleet."
"Really, Captain, pardon me, but the story's absurd. When did this torpedo attack take place?"
"At night, of course; you don't suppose they'd dare to attack battleships in broad daylight."
"Then depend upon it there was a mistake. Someone was scared by the sight of a trawler. It's ridiculous to suppose that our government sent torpedo-boats on such a silly errand as that."
"Well, they might have hired Scandinavian boats, to save their face."
Jack repressed a smile. It was evidently of no use to argue with the captain.
"Time will show," he said. "By the way, Mr. Wang," he added, seeing the Chunchuse a few paces away, "what did you do with Hu Hang?"
"I am very sorry, sir," said Wang Shih with a look of sincere penitence. "It was quite a mistake—I was excited, and I squeezed too hard."
"You strangled him?"
"Yes. It is a pity—a great waste. I fear the chief will be angry. Hu was a strong man—he would have lasted for days."
"Oh!"
Understanding what he meant, Jack thought it just as well. He doubted whether his influence with Ah Lum and the band would have been enough to preserve the informer from the most gruesome and lingering tortures Chinese inventiveness could devise.
"And what became of Ch'u Tan?"
"He stabbed himself."
"Anticipating a worse fate," Jack explained to the officers.
"We are aware of our good fortune in falling into your hands, Ivan Ivanovitch," said Borisoff gravely; "and if, when we are rescued, I can do anything——"
"Thanks, Lieutenant! I don't owe much to the Russians," he added bitterly, "my father less. When he is righted I shall hope perhaps to pick up my old friendships again."
Towards the close of the day the convoy reached Ah Lum's mountain fastness. The chief's little eyes gleamed when he saw the great haul made by his son's tutor.
"You are bold enough to stroke a tiger's beard," he said. "Where there is musk, there will of course be perfume."
The supplies captured were very welcome. Ah Lum had found it necessary to lie low, to avoid the forces on the hunt for him. But after a few days he learnt that the troops from the Korean frontier had been recalled, and the only Russian column now in the mountains was nearly a hundred miles away. He could therefore afford to live on his gains for a time.
The band settled down to a period of quiet camp life. The Cossacks were distributed over the settlement and carefully guarded. Jack proceeded with the education of Ah Fu, and the further training of his men. There was considerable competition among the Chunchuses for enrolment in his corps; he was looked upon as lucky, a special favourite of heaven. For himself, he regarded his position differently. Harassed with anxiety as to his father's fate; among uncongenial surroundings; an exile, without anyone to confide in as a friend; he felt anything but lucky. As week after week passed he grew terribly weary of his life; winter had settled down upon the hills; the snow lay inches thick, and even the warm clothing captured from the Cossacks—the fur caps, thick gray overcoats, felt-lined boots, ear gloves, and what not—proved but insufficient protection against the intense cold. He volunteered for what active work was going; but there was little, and he did not covet the command of any of the parties that went out from time to time to replenish the larder. Ah Lum was punctilious in giving receipts for the supplies he requisitioned from the country people, but Jack felt that they were little likely to be paid for: it was a mere form at the best. And the villagers could ill afford the contributions demanded, though after all they were better off than their countrymen living in the main current of the war. To all except the few merchants and contractors, who made huge profits by supplying the rival armies, the war had brought blank ruin.
Occasionally news of the progress of the war filtered through the country. Jack learnt that Admiral Alexeieff, after continual wrangling with Kuropatkin, had been recalled; that the combatants had gone into winter quarters on opposite sides of the Sha-ho, both Russians and Japanese living in dug-outs, called by the Russianszemliankas; that Port Arthur was still holding out, though from Chinese reports it seemed inevitable that the end must soon come; that fresh troops were continually arriving from Europe. One day a dirty copy of theManchurian Army Gazettewas brought into the camp; the Chinese are always loth to destroy anything written or printed. The most interesting item of news it held for Jack, and one on which he had a battle-royal of argument with the Russian officers, was the statement that theOcean, a British battleship on the China station, had been sold to the Japanese, and would appear in the next naval fight as theYushima, which the Russians declared had been sunk by a mine while blockading Port Arthur. Captain Kargopol stoutly maintained that this was another instance of British perfidy, and came very near to losing his temper when Jack refused to take the report seriously, and bantered him on his anti-British prejudice.
At last, one bright cold January day a Chinaman came in with the news that Port Arthur had fallen. Jack could not but sympathize with the captive officers. Personally they were the best of comrades; their distrust of England did not alloy the cordiality of their relations with Jack; and their air of hopeless dejection was distressing to one who bore neither to them nor to their nation any enduring ill-will.
A few days afterwards Ah Lum learnt that the Russian column which had been watching him had suddenly decamped. The inference was obvious. The fall of the great fortress had released a large number of Japanese troops, and Kuropatkin was concentrating against the forward movement now to be expected. This information had considerable importance for Ah Lum. He had been canvassing the desirability of moving towards Kirin, leaving only a small force in the hills to watch the Russians. Their sudden retreat, however, caused him to change his plan. He resolved to follow them. There was more chance of safety for him if he kept to the hills within a few marches of the combatant armies than if he was completely isolated and likely to be cut off by several mobile columns operating against him. It was hardly likely that the Russians would now spare any troops from the fighting line to interfere with him. He was only a mosquito after all, though his sting had more than once proved extremely irritating. His only concern was to be near enough without being too near. In the last resort he could go over to the Japanese; but he disliked the Japanese only less than the Russians, and preferred to keep aloof. It would be time enough to approach the Japanese when they were well on the road to Harbin and the area of his possible operations became more restricted.
The camp was therefore struck. By easy marches the band came to within eighty miles of Moukden. Then, having made complete arrangements for the approach of any Russian force to be signalled to him from point to point, Ah Lum encamped and awaited a favourable opportunity of cutting across the Russian line of communications.
To none was the change of scene more welcome than to Jack. He had been worrying for some time past at the absence of news from the compradore; that he had sent no message made Jack fear that the man had returned to Moukden and been made to suffer by Sowinski or General Bekovitch for his young master's escape. Growing more and more restless, disappointed also that no news of his father had been gleaned by any of Ah Lum's agents in different parts of the country, he at last made up his mind to venture once more into Moukden. It was necessary to ask leave of Ah Lum; and Jack, in his present state of mind, was not disposed to be fobbed off with maxims and proverbs.
As he expected, the chief looked very solemn and endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose.
"It is like a blind fowl picking at random after worms," he said. "It is like attempting to carry an olive on the pate of a priest. You have already had a very narrow escape. You may not be so fortunate next time."
"I must insist, Mr. Ah," said Jack. "Anything is better than suspense."
"I will send a man for you. A wise man never does himself what he can employ another to do for him."
"Yes; but if one will not enter a tiger's lair, how can he obtain her whelps?"
He cited the proverb with the utmost gravity. Ah Lum was taken aback. Were his own maxims to be turned against him? He pondered for a moment.
"All things are according to heaven," he said with a resigned air. "Still, I will send a man with you; let him go before you into Moukden; then you must act as you think best on receipt of information. To die or to live is according to fate."
When it became known in the camp that Jack, or Sin Foo as he was there known, was about to leave, many of the Chunchuses were eager to accompany him. He found his popularity, and the extraordinary belief in his luck, rather embarrassing. He thanked these willing volunteers, but declined their company: Hi Lo and the man selected by Ah Lum were to be his only attendants.
Soon after dark on a bitter February night Jack, with his two companions, rode up to the farm of Wang Shih's people, some fifteen miles from Moukden. They were overjoyed to see him, and to hear news of their son and brother. Old Mr. Wang, when he learnt that his son was now Ah Lum's chief lieutenant, rubbed his hands with delight and foretold that he would die a mandarin. It would not be the first time in the history of China that a successful brigand had been bought back to the cause of law and order by the bribe of high official rank. Mrs. Wang was garrulous about a second visit paid them about Christmas-time by Monsieur Brin, who had consoled himself for his failures as a war correspondent by studying Chinese social arrangements at first hand. The simple folk readily agreed to put Jack up for a few days; it would have been impossible to find more comfortable quarters during his period of waiting.
Next morning Ah Lum's man went into Moukden. By mid-day he had returned. The compradore had never been seen in the city since he left for Harbin on the morning of Jack's departure. But the Chunchuse agent Me Hong had learnt one trifling fact about Mr. Brown; he was surprised that his chief was still in ignorance of it. The English merchant had been seen and recognized among a gang of convicts at Kuan-cheng-tzü. Me Hong had sent off the news at once by a messenger to Ah Lum; the runner had vanished. He had not returned to Moukden; certainly he had never reached the Chunchuse camp. Sowinski was still in the city; so, the messenger believed, was the "Toitsche war-look-see man"; but there were so many of the fraternity living in Moukden that he was not sure that his information on that point was correct.
He brought other news. Another great battle was evidently impending. The Japanese had for weeks been steadily pushing forward. They had cut the railway-line south of Moukden; two regiments of their cavalry had crept round the Russian left, and had been seen within a few miles of Harbin; and it was reported among the Chinese that Generals Nogi and Oku were preparing a great turning movement on the right. The city was full to overflowing with refugees; many were streaming northward; the Russo-Chinese bank had packed up its chests and decamped; and the Chinese viceroy was in a terrible state of anxiety for the safety of the palace and the ancient tombs of the Manchu emperors.
This news almost tempted Jack to venture again within the city. But on second thoughts he decided to run no risks of meeting Sowinski. The imminence of another great battle, however, perhaps to prove the decisive battle of the war, created a keen longing to witness the scene; and next day, taking leave of his kind hosts, he set off with Hi Lo for a little village lying between the Moukden railway-station and Sin-min-ting. Hi Lo had relatives there with whom they could safely stay.
The battle-ground was in essentials a repetition of that of Liao-yang, though on a much larger scale. The Russians had thrown up an immense line of entrenchments extending in a rough semicircle from Sin-min-ting on the north-west of the city to Ping-ling on the east, with Moukden as the centre. Comprising a range of low hills for the greater part of its course, the position was naturally strong, and it had been fortified for months with all the devices known to the military engineer—pits, abattis, barbed-wire entanglements, forts of solid masonry bristling with huge guns. Snow lay upon the ground, frozen so hard that the passage of cavalry across it raised clouds of white dust. The plain to the west and south of the city was one vast whiteness: yet that peaceful scene was the arena on which three-quarters of a million of men were preparing to spill their blood in blind obedience to duty—to contend with desperate earnestness in one of the decisive battles of the world.
The Russian right wing was composed of the Second Manchurian Army under General Kaulbars, resting on an arc between Sin-min-ting and Moukden. The centre, south of the city, was held by General Bilderling with the Third Army; the left, thrown out as far south-east as Tsin-khe-chen, was entrusted to General Linievitch and the First Army. It was here that the first attack was made. On February 19 General Kawawura threw his right flank detachment against the Russian works, and, after a fight prolonged over five days, drove the Russians back towards Fa-ling. Meanwhile General Kuroki moved forward upon Kao-tu-ling, and succeeded in forcing his way northward, and General Nodzu, from his position on the Sha-ho, opened a furious bombardment on the exact centre of the Russian lines. By these movements General Kuropatkin was led to expect that the brunt of the fighting would fall upon his centre and left; in reality they were designed to hold his attention while more formidable operations were developed on his right.
It was on the last day of February that General Oku's army deployed between the Sha-ho and the Hun-ho, and General Nogi started with incredible rapidity on his northward march. By the time General Kuropatkin became aware of the danger threatening his communications on the right, Nogi had made such progress and so skilfully disposed his forces that to crush him was out of the question; all that Kaulbars could do was to fall back towards Moukden and oppose as stubborn a resistance as possible. The assaults of Kuroki and Nodzu on the centre were so fierce and persistent that Kuropatkin had no troops to spare for the reinforcement of his jeopardized right flank. Doggedly, intrepidly, the indomitable Japanese pressed home their attack. The Russians clung heroically to their positions, and rolled back charge after charge; but still the enemy returned, seeming to gain in vigour and enthusiasm after each repulse. They charged with bayonets, with grenades, with shovels and picks; sometimes, when they penetrated the Russian entrenchments, flinging down their weapons and going to it with their fists. The trenches were filled with corpses; the frozen ground all around was dyed red with blood; there was no respite day or night; men fell, their places were filled, and foe met foe over the bodies of the slain.
For ten days the issue was in doubt. Then, on March 5, Kuroki was across the Sha-ho; Nogi had swept through Sin-min-ting towards the railway; Marshal Oyama's huge army was flinging its octopus tentacles around the Russian position, vast as it was. Kuropatkin, most unfortunate of generals, on March 8 found it necessary to withdraw his centre and left behind the line of the Hun-ho, and collect every unit that could be spared by Kaulbars and Bilderling to stem the advance of Oku and Nogi.
Meanwhile the Russian left had opposed a bold front to Kuroki and Kawawura. Unable to make a successful offensive movement, Linievitch stubbornly retreated in good order beyond the Hun-ho, and entrenched himself in a new position there. But around Moukden the plight of the Russian army was becoming desperate. As the terrible enemy crept on towards the city from all sides save the north-east, the Russian troops, packed into a constantly diminishing space, and exposed to a converging fire, fell in thousands. More than once the Russians attempted to break through. The gallant Kuropatkin in person led a terrific attack on Oku at the head of sixty-five battalions, and his splendid men fought with such courage and determination that for a while it seemed the Japanese advance must be checked. But at this critical moment, when the Russians were at least holding their own on the right centre and left, and Oyama was concentrating to hurl them back, an event had taken place at the left centre that proved to be Fortune's cast of the die. Early on the morning of March 9, Kuropatkin received the news that Kuroki had driven a wedge between Bilderling and Linievitch. Those generals in falling back on the Hun-ho had temporarily lost touch: and the Japanese general, who had never made a mistake throughout the war, was quick to seize this opportunity of breaking the enemy's line. On the same day Nogi got across the railway between Moukden and Tieling; nothing but instant retreat could save the Second and Third Russian armies from annihilation or capture; and at nightfall on that fifteenth day of the battle the order to retreat was given.
Next day at ten in the morning the Japanese entered the city, and with their entrance burst the bubble of Russian domination in Manchuria. Scattered parties of Russians fought on for several days in the neighbouring villages; but with Nogi astride of the main line of retreat and every northern road, the Russians were forced to abandon everything and take to the hills. Two days afterwards the Japanese had chased their enemy full thirty miles to the north; Kuropatkin's great army, broken, routed, had well-nigh ceased to be.
Jack is never likely to forget that terrible fortnight. During the first few days he witnessed nothing of the fighting; he heard the reverberations of the guns, and saw crowds of natives hastening from the villages in the line of the Japanese advance, bearing with them everything portable that could be saved from the impending ruin. At night, standing on the broken mud wall, he beheld in the far distance a dull glow in the sky that told of houses burning, and thought of the untold misery inflicted upon a peaceable and industrious people by the greed of rival governments. But as the tide of battle rolled northward, and the roar of the guns grew louder, other evidences of the terrific struggle came within his ken. Ever and anon a train would rumble northward along the line, with wagon-loads of wounded. The darkness of the nights was now illuminated with bursting star-shells, and the red flare of burning villages nearer at hand. One morning, in the twilight before dawn, he saw an immense column of smoke rise over the Russian settlement by the station. It was in flames. Venturing out with Hi Lo, he soon came upon stragglers from the army, and by and by upon a huge block of horse and foot and artillery, field-telegraph wagons, mess carts, ambulances—all in inextricable confusion, jammed in their frantic efforts to escape. Trains rolled along, crowded to the roofs of the carriages, even to the engine itself, with soldiers; carts lay overturned, broken, wheelless, on the roads and fields; the air was loaded with the acrid fumes from piles of blazing goods, clothing, and forage, burnt to prevent their falling into the hands of the conquerors.
The retreat from Liao-yang had been orderly and not uncheerful; the retreat from Moukden was an orgy of riot and misery. There was no order in the ranks: the officers made no efforts—made, they would have been in vain—to check the insubordination of their men. Some as they fled had looted the sutlers' carts and roamed at large, defenceless, intoxicated, singing wild songs, dropping to the ground, to be frozen stiff in a few minutes. Others tramped along, moody, taciturn, mad, going blindly they knew not whither, they knew not why. Here a horse's head could be seen above the crowd, its eyes bloodshot and haggard, its nostrils dilated. There a horse fell; the throng thickened around it; harsh voices were raised in imprecation; then the movement recommenced, and nothing was heard but the tramping of feet and the crunching of wheels. Wounded men dropped and froze in their blood; others staggered this way and that, having lost all power to govern their limbs; and still in the distance artillery boomed, flames crackled, and the smoke of burning homesteads rose into the sky.
Sick at heart, Jack returned to the village. That evening the Japanese entered it, bringing with them a number of Russian prisoners and wounded, these having been carefully tended by the Japanese ambulance corps. Jack lent what assistance he could in finding cottages where the more seriously injured could remain. "Strange," he thought, "that war, which brings out the worst in men, should bring out also all that is best."
CHAPTER XXI
Ah Lum at Bay
Schwab again Retreats—A Business Friend—Reinstated—A Little Light—Ah Lum Threatened—A Thousand Roubles Reward—The Lessening Circle—A Mountain Tiger—Mirage—Ah Lum's Lament—A Cossack Cloak
It was not merely curiosity that had held Jack within the area of fighting. He clung with a sort of superstition to the belief that his father's fate was inwoven with the fate of the Russian army. He had a conviction, perfectly illogical, that a victory for Japan would favour his quest. There was so much truth in this idea as that amid the disorders of a Russian retreat he might hope to pass undetected in his disguise. The Russians would be too busy to look closely into the bona-fides of a mere Chinaman, one of thousands who would be swept northwards on the tide. He could easily keep out of sight of the few who might recognize him.
He thus had a purely personal interest in the result of the battle. Convinced that the compradore must have remained with his brother in Harbin, he had resolved to go north and learn from the man's own lips the issue of his enquiries. When the victorious army had rolled by, he set off with Hi Lo in its wake.
One day, a few miles north of Tieling, he was riding slowly along, contrasting his present position with the different circumstances under which he had made the retreat from Liao-yang, with Mr. Schwab's precious tripod in his care, when, a little ahead of him, he caught sight of a solitary figure trudging wearily along. It needed but one glance at the broad back. The tired pedestrian was Schwab himself—and he was carrying the camera.
Jack's lips twitched. To this had come the descendant of the great Hildebrand Suobensius, the itinerant representative of Germany's imperial might! There was matter for amusement in the reflection, and for sympathy too: Schwab's patriotism was genuine; his little vanities were harmless enough; and whatever else might be said of him, he was devoted to the interests of the Schlagintwert company. Jack resolved to make himself known to the correspondent, who could have no interest in betraying him to the Russians. Cantering up behind, he heard Schwab sighing and muttering under his breath.
"Excellenz," he said, "my Sin Foo——"
At the first word Schwab swung round with an alacrity that betokened as much pleasure as surprise.
"Ach!" he said, "I know you; you are imbostor. I am delighted. I abologize."
"That's very good of you, Herr Schwab, but I don't know why."
"Vy! Vy, for my vant of gombrehension, my zickness of shkull. But you did bretend; zat you muss gonfess; and I did bay you your vages, so!"
Jack smiled.
"I've nothing to complain of," he said. "To you I was a Chinese servant, and I never want a better master."
"Say you so? I vill shake hands viz you. Zere vas talk about you in Moukden; vy truly, zey gratulate me for because I haf, zey say, a so clever servant. Ach, mein freund! you see me; I am sad, I am broken; no longer am I vat I haf been."
Schwab proceeded to tell a pitiful story. He had started on the retreat in company with Sowinski, with whom he had arranged a great deal of business against the termination of the war. One night they had taken refuge in a Chinese hovel. Schwab had carefully put the satchel containing his papers and money under his head. In the night he had heard and felt a movement, and, springing up in the dark, seized and held an arm. The arm was wrenched away, then Sowinski's voice asked whether he had heard anything.
"'Yes, certainly,' I said, 'I zink zere is a zief. 'Shtrike a light!' I cry. Zere shtrikes a light; I look for my zinks; siehe da! eferyzink is gone. Against ze door had I blaced a big kettle, for to gif notice if anyvun intrude. Zere it is, in ze same sbot. I say: 'Sowinski, you are vun big scoundrel; gif me my money!' Zen he burst into fearful bassion; he bresent me a bistol and demand instant abology. For myself, I am berfeckly cool. I egsblain I am business man; certainly it is not my business to fight, ven ze ozer man hold a revolver. I abologize; Sowinski say he is satisfied; but zen he say I had cast asbersion on his honour; no longer could he travel in my gompany; he demand me to get out. Vat could I? Ze bistol muzzle vas at my head. It is gombulsion. I vat you call clear out, viz my photographabbaratus. But my trouble only begins. My mafoo, vere is he? Vizout doubt he has abbrobriated my bony. Zere am I, zen, viz no babers, no money, no bony, nozink in ze vide vorld but my camera. I cannot send a message to zeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonien: vere is ze money to gome from? Ze Kaiser,—alas! he is in Berlin. I zink vat is var gorresbondence for a kind of business? I try to sell my camera; no vun buys. Ze Russian soldier is good comrade, ver' fine fellow; for zree days I eat nozink but vat he gif me. But ze officers—ach! ven I egsblain to zem, zey are all too busy to listen; zey tell me, abbly Colonel Egoroff. But Colonel Egoroff, vere is he? Nobody know. Nobody know vere nobody is. All is gonfusion and upside-down. I never see nozink so unbusinesslike novere."
As he told his story Schwab trudged along beside Jack's pony. Jack did not interrupt him; the man's relief in finding someone to lend him a sympathizing ear was so obvious.
"You have had an uncommonly hard time," he said. "I'm very sorry. What do you think of doing?"
"Zink! I zink nozink. My brain is no more vat it vas. All I can do, you see it; I valk and valk; I beg my bread, vich is Russian biscuit. Nefer shall I see ze Vaterland no more. Hildebrand Schwab is gome to an end."
"Cheer up! What do you say to taking me on as your servant again?"
"Zat is unkind, to mock at me."
"Believe me, nothing is further from my thoughts. I mean it. There will be some risk for you and for me, but it's worth chancing. Let me explain my plan."
Jack saw in Schwab's plight a means of advancing his own quest, and at the same time doing a good turn to the unfortunate representative of theIllustrirte Vaterland, for whom, in spite of certain unlovely characteristics, he had a real liking. As servant of a European, far from any place where he was likely to be recognized, Jack thought he would probably reach Harbin more quickly than as a masterless Chinese fugitive. He proposed that they should make for the railway. The nearest point was Erh-shih-li-pu, the junction of the Kirin branch with the main line. It was not unlikely that if Schwab told his story there the officials would give him a passage to Harbin. The German eagerly accepted the proposal. Jack insisted on his mounting the pony; it was necessary, he explained, to keep up appearances, but his firmness on the point was really due to the quite obvious fact that Schwab was completely worn out. At the first village both Jack and Hi Lo made a few alterations in their dress, so as to look as little like Schwab's former servants as possible; and without more than the expected difficulties and delays, the three at length reached Erh-shih-li-pu. Luckily at the station Schwab was recognized by a Russian officer, a member of Stackelberg's staff, who had once dined with the foreign correspondents at the Green Dragon in Moukden. On hearing the German's troubles he readily agreed to give him a pass to Harbin for himself and his servants, and would not allow the fares to be paid; Jack had previously pressed upon Schwab some of his rouble notes. Thus on a bright March day, when the frozen ground was sparkling in the sunshine, the three travellers arrived in Harbin. Schwab was lucky in obtaining quarters in the Oriental Hotel; Jack made his way at once with Hi Lo to the house of his uncle, the grain merchant, and there, as he had expected, found Hi An. The two brothers were delighted to see their visitors, and there was a touching scene of welcome between Hi Lo and his father.
For Jack there was but one crumb of information. Hi Feng, as he had promised, had set on foot such enquiries as seemed safe, especially along the railway line. About a fortnight after Jack left Harbin in the horse-box, a customer of Hi Feng came in with the news that he had seen a man answering to the description of Mr. Brown among a batch of prisoners at Imien-po on the Harbin-Vladivostok section. The train was apparently bound for Vladivostok, but it had remained for twenty-four hours on a siding, and the man's business had not allowed him to wait to see what became of it. Hi Feng had himself travelled to the place; the train had of course by that time departed; and the Chinese of the neighbourhood could give him no information about it; one train was to them like another, and delays at this siding were of constant occurrence.
Jack shuddered to think what his father's sufferings must have been during the protracted journey. His blood boiled when he saw Russian officers in the streets; his rage against Bekovitch poisoned his former good-will towards them. He fumed under his utter helplessness; he could do nothing. To some extent the information received narrowed the area of search. The fact of the train having been seen at Imien-po showed that the prisoners had been taken either to Eastern Siberia or to Sakhalin. Whichever it might be, Mr. Brown would be equally unable to communicate with his son, and his removal from Manchuria seemed to destroy all chance of help from the Chinese. To them Siberia and Sakhalin are foreign lands; and if Siberia was remote, Sakhalin was inaccessible. Being wholly a penal settlement, there was little chance of getting into or out of its ports undetected.
Jack remained for several weeks with Hi Feng, hoping against hope. Herr Schwab was still at the Oriental Hotel. Exposure to cold, lack of sufficient food, and his mental anxieties had broken down the German's robust health, and for a fortnight he lay at death's door. Monsieur Brin happened to be at the same hotel; he had missed every fight, solely through his own restlessness, which sent him backwards and forwards from place to place—never the time and the place and the correspondent together. He was a good-hearted fellow, and, finding a German lying ill and not too carefully tended, he constituted himself sick nurse, and devoted himself to his self-imposed duties with unusual constancy. He had his reward in the patient's convalescence. As soon as Schwab was able to sit up and take a little nourishment, Brin undertook to prove to him that the Kaiser in Berlin was the Man of Sin, and for a good fortnight he had much the better of the argument.
One day Hi Feng learnt that a great effort was at last being made against Ah Lum. He had already been defeated by a large force of Cossacks, and driven from the neighbourhood of Kirin north-eastwards towards the Harbin-Vladivostok railway. Strong columns were hard upon his heels in pursuit. Through his position as forage contractor to the Russians, Hi Feng already knew that a large body of Cossacks was shortly to leave Harbin for a place half-way between that town and Vladivostok. Putting the two pieces of news together, and making discreet enquiries, he found that it was intended to make a sudden dash upon Ah Lum's line of retreat and dispose of him once for all. The evacuation of Moukden and the narrowing of the area of country open to the Russians in Manchuria had made the presence of a strong guerrilla force within their lines insupportable. Ah Lum must be rooted out.
Hi Feng was to deliver a large quantity of forage within ten days; it was pretty safe to infer that the expedition would start from Harbin soon afterwards. Jack felt that Ah Lum must be warned at once. Furthermore, he was much disposed to rejoin the Chunchuses. Without overrating his abilities, he knew that he had been able to do something for them, and what he had learnt about his father's treatment did not make him more friendly to the Russians or less inclined to do what he could to thwart them. If he had seen any chance of reaching or communicating with his father he might have taken a different view: having left Ah Lum with that purpose there would be no call for him to abandon his quest. But it was now clear that his enquiries must be pursued through Russian agents. He therefore decided to rejoin Ah Lum. At the same time he would let it be known that a reward of 1000 roubles should be paid to anyone giving him certain information of his father's whereabouts. This offer, judiciously circulated through Chinese channels among the officials of the railway, might bring definite news.
There was another consideration. Among the Chunchuses, so long as Ah Lum held his own, Jack would be out of reach of the Russian authorities. If he remained in Harbin, or any other Russian centre, the news of his offer would at once put his enemies on his track. While he was in Ah Lum's camp Hi Feng or his brother the compradore could easily communicate with him if they received any information.
Once more, then, he set out to join Ah Lum, Hi Lo accompanying him. He travelled in the guise of a Chinese farmer. Each took two ponies, and they pushed on with great rapidity, riding the animals alternately. By means of the secret signs used by Ah Lum, Jack soon got upon the chief's track. Making a wide detour to avoid the Russian columns now steadily driving Ah Lum towards the point whence the Harbin force was to complete his encirclement, he came upon the Chunchuses from the east, and early one morning rode into the brigand camp.
His arrival was regarded as a favourable omen. It was likened by Ah Lum to the delightfulness of rain after long drought. Sin Foo was lucky; Fortune would now surely smile. The Chunchuses were, in fact, in a somewhat critical position. The camp, only one day old, was pitched in a valley of the Chang-ling hills some twenty miles above the Kan-hu lake—an extensive sheet of water nearly thirty miles long and of varying breadth. Fifty miles to the north lay the nearest point on the railway, about 150 miles from Harbin and twice as far from Vladivostok, the line threading a tortuous path among the hills. A considerable Russian force sent out from Kirin was known to be at Wo-ke-chan to the south-west; from this place a winter track led over the hills to the head of the La-lin-ho valley, within striking distance of Ah Lum's camp. Another column, at O-mu-so to the south, commanded the upper valley of the Mu-tan-chiang, and while cutting off access to Ah Lum's old quarters on the upper Sungari, threatened his left flank by the high-road to Ninguta. At that place, some eighty miles from O-mu-so, a third column covered the passes into the Lao-ling mountains on the east. The bandits were thus in a ring-fence. Only the north was open, and Jack's news confirmed the wary chief's suspicions that the apparent gap in the north had been left with the sole object of tempting him into the neighbourhood of the railway, on which an overwhelming force was held in readiness.
The confirmation of his suspicions roused the chief from the dejection into which the gradual tightening of the coils had thrown him. From an attitude almost of despair he now rose to a spirit of sullen determination. The Russians were gradually closing around him; they would drive him to bay.
"The tiger comes to eat the fly," he said. "Wah! he may prove a wooden tiger. The Russians shall see what it is to draw a badger. I own, honoured sir, I thought once of disbanding my force. But on reflection I have come to another mind. The very villagers who have been most willing to help me would probably turn against me retreating, and sell me to the Russians. He who advances may fight, but he who retreats must take care of himself. It is better to die fighting. Adversity is necessary to the development of men's virtues. I will choose a strong position and await the flood. It will not be long in coming. The Russians, I doubt not, when their arrangements along the railway are complete, will advance at the same time from east, west, and south, driving me against the spears of the Cossacks hiding behind the railway to the north. I have only 600 men left. There has been much fighting since you left, honoured sir; my men are exhausted with constant marching and insufficient food. It is not easy to stop the fire when water is at a distance."
Jack found that the Russian prisoners were no longer with the Chunchuses. Ah Lum had been glad to exchange them against as many of his band captured during the recent fight. But for this exchange his force would have been even smaller than it was. He was hopelessly outnumbered by the Russians, each of whose columns was about 1200 strong. Their horses were in good condition; and the work of chasing the Chunchuses having devolved on one only of the columns at a time, the Cossacks were not so much worn out as their quarry, who had been kept moving constantly.
Ah Lum and Jack discussed the situation in great detail. There seemed indeed no way out. To fight or to disband: those were the alternatives, each fraught with peril if not disaster. Another fight would probably be the last, for the Russians would hardly make a serious attack until they had the wily brigand who had given them so much trouble completely surrounded. With perhaps 5000 men engaged on one side and only 600 on the other there was but one result to be expected.
If the gap to the north had really been a gap—if the Russians had been as stupid as they wished Ah Lum to believe—there would still have been a chance. The chief explained that far to the north, in the high hills above the lower valley of the Mu-tan-chiang, he might hope to elude pursuit for an indefinite period. It was a wild, mountainous, almost uninhabited country, in which the only difficulty would be that of subsistence, not of hiding. But a Chunchuse can live on much less than a Cossack, little though the latter requires. If only Ah Lum could have gained those hills, he could have shown a clean pair of heels to his pursuers.
Regrets, however, were useless. "It is no good climbing a tree to hunt for fish." The appearance of the Chunchuses within twenty miles of the railway would be the signal for a simultaneous movement of squadron upon squadron of Cossacks from east and west, while the three columns now closing upon them would seize the opportunity of occupying the passes in their rear, hemming them within a small circle where they would soon be annihilated.
"No," said Ah Lum, "I can only eat my three meals in the day and look forward to sleeping at night. It is impossible to stand on two ships at once. I shall stay here, occupy the approaches on each side, and fight to the last gasp. Death has no terror for me. I can eat my rice looking towards heaven. My only trouble is my son, my only son Ah Fu. If I die, he will die; who then will do honour to my bones? True, I shall be remembered; as the scream of the eagle is heard when she has passed over, so a man's name remains after his death. But my cooking-range will go to a stranger; the ancestral tablets of my family will be broken; there will be none to sacrifice to my manes. And the boy: why should he be cut off? The growth of a mulberry-tree corresponds with its early bent. Ah Fu is a good boy, as you know, honoured sir. He is brave; I love him, and have been liberal in punishment, as the sage advises; his intelligence, though but a grain of millet, will in due time grow green to the height of a horse's head. I looked for him to endure the nine days' examination and write verses worthy of high office. Ai! ai!"
Through the scholar's pedantries Jack saw the man's heart throbbing. He expressed his sympathy.
"Wah!" returned Ah Lum. "Calamity comes from heaven. After the pig has been killed it is useless to speak of the price. I have done all I can. The one thing remaining is to meet the inevitable end with dignity. But as for you, honoured sir, you have done enough. I do not ask you to stay. You have your own quest to follow. Let every man sweep the snow from before his own doors, and not heed the frost on his neighbour's tiles."
"You are right, chief," said Jack. "But it has not come to that yet. There may be a way out even yet, and you have been so kind to me that I should not think of leaving you while there is any hope at all."
Ah Lum's remark about the possibility of evading pursuit if he could reach the farther side of the railway had set Jack thinking. Was there no way out of his strait? Could the Russians, he wondered, be led off the scent, thus gaining time for the band to make a dash across the line? In the privacy of his little hut of kowliang stalks Jack pondered the problem long. But the more he thought, the less feasible the thing appeared. The railway gave the Russians so great a mobility: they could move troops so quickly up and down it, and now that the main armies were for the time quiescent, they had so many men available, that with only 600 Chunchuses there seemed no hope of such a dash being successful. He racked his brains far into the night. As the hours drew on, it became very cold; the north wind struck keenly. Looking around for an additional garment, Jack saw a military cloak, part of the stock of clothing captured from the Cossacks. He put it on, and tramped up and down, thinking and thinking again. The fur-lined cloak warmed him, by and by he became hot with the excitement of an idea. He rolled himself up in the cloak and tried to sleep, but his eyes were still unclosed when the chill dawn stole over the mountains. With racking head he sought an interview with the chief. For some hours they remained in earnest consultation. When the talk was ended Ah Lum rubbed his hands together and said:
"If you succeed, honoured friend, we shall certainly escape the net. The task you have set yourself is difficult. It is like feeling after a pin on the bottom of the ocean. But whether you succeed or not, we shall owe you an unfathomable debt of gratitude. Choose what men you need; all will be proud to serve under you."
Then, weary but light of heart, Jack returned to his hut and slept.