CHAPTER XIWar-Look-SeeSchwab is Shocked—Snapshots—The Coming Battle—To Liao-yang—Schwab's Opportunity—Carpe Diem—Suobensius—Shimose—Last Wishes—Stackelberg—Something Accomplished—Rhapsody—Two-Piece PonyThat night Jack shared a tiny room with Hi Lo. The boy had become accustomed to see his master in Chinese dress, but the situation was entirely changed now that he had to regard him as an equal and address him as Sin Foo. Jack impressed on the little fellow that everything depended on his caution—Jack's own safety, and the prosecution of his quest; and Hi Lo showed a quite painful anxiety to behave with discretion and yet with naturalness.Next day Schwab spent several hours in explaining to Jack, not too lucidly, the working of the camera; the development of the negatives he reserved for himself. Then he prepared to sally forth to make a few experiments. An American correspondent, standing with his hands in his pockets at the door of the little Chinese hotel, observed Jack as he passed."Hello, Schwab!" he shouted. "Caught a Tartar at last, eh?""Yes, Mr. Vanzant—if zat is not a shoke. Zis man is not afraid—he gif sign of modicum of intelligence; I zink he vill do.""I guess he will do for your camera; well, so long!"Walking out of the city, Schwab set Jack to take photographs of a few prominent objects—the Temple of Earth beyond the eastern gate, the Tomb of Wen-Hsiang, the statesman who rose from being a table-boy to the highest official appointments, Dr. Christie's Hospital, where the little Scots doctor had dispensed the blessings of Western surgery and medicine to thousands of grateful patients. Schwab was delighted with Sin Foo's rapid progress; it amazed him."Truly I zink ze Manchu is not such a fool as he look," he said."My plenty muchee glad masta likee Sin Fool," said Jack gravely."Ach! You do so vell zat to-morrow ve go to take var pictures. Zere vill soon be a great battle; ze Russians shall at last do goot business."In the afternoon they went up to the railway-station to see if seats could be booked in next morning's train, Jack carrying the camera in case anything of interest should offer. The station was crowded. For many days troops had been passing towards the south; the platform was now thronged with soldiers, surgeons, nurses, camp-followers. Schwab was amazed, his German sense of discipline was shocked, to see colonels walking arm in arm with lieutenants; still more when he noticed a placard stuck up in the buffet, signed by General Sakharoff, threatening with dire punishment any officer who should presume to criticise his superiors or their conduct of the operations. He was disgusted also to observe, in a siding, a superb dining-room car in which a company of officers and ladies were eating and drinking with a light-hearted gaiety that ill matched the occasion, if the rumours of the stupendous battle approaching were well founded."You, Sin Foo," said Schwab, "I tell you zis; zat is not var. Zat is not ze vay ve Gairmans shall behave ourselves ven ve go to invade England; zen you vill see var zatisvar. You understan'?"Seeing little probability of obtaining a seat in the train, Schwab decided to return to the hotel and journey south on ponies.As they left the station a number of Russian soldiers who had just marched in were lying dead-beat in a sort of trench parallel with a siding. A troop train was being slowly made up, doubtless to convey these and other men southward to the front. Schwab stood contemplating them for a moment. Then he turned to Jack."Boy, upfix ze camera; ve vill take schnapshot of zese men.""Allo lightee, masta," replied Jack, wondering at the German's choice of a subject. He was to be enlightened on that point later.It was late in the day by the time they reached the city. Passing along the principal street, they saw a crowd of natives hurrying down a side alley uttering piercing shouts. Jack noticed that two or three of them had buckets suspended from the ends of a long bamboo pole carried on the shoulder."My tinkey house hab catchee fia.""A gonflagration in Moukden! Zat vill be ver' interesting to ze abonnenten of my baber. Ve vill take it on ze hop."Schwab led the way, his tall bulky form making a path through the crowd. A pawn-shop was ablaze. The roof had already fallen in. Siberian infantrymen were trying to keep order in the crowd—hundreds of Chinamen yelling, jostling each other, going hither and thither with their buckets, splashing through the mud. Many of them were laughing uproariously; to the Chinaman a fire is purely a spectacle, to be enjoyed without any disturbing sympathy for the victims, whose efforts to save themselves and their goods are greeted as the most enjoyable farce. Some of the crowd were waving bright-coloured flags; in the glare from the burning house it was like a scene from a country fair. Here and there Chinamen were squirting feeble and futile jets of water on the house from tiny copper pumps, like the syringes used at home for watering flowers. An old mandarin in yellow silk forced his way through the press, paying no heed to the fire, anxious only to get home without soiling his white socks. But the throng was becoming unwieldy; there was danger of the whole quarter being set ablaze; and at last a Russian captain came up with a squad of men at the request of the Chinese Viceroy himself, and set about clearing the street in a business-like way. For a few minutes the confusion seemed redoubled; the Chinamen scampered this way and that as the Russians came at the double along the street. This moment was seized by Schwab, who evidently had a keen eye for a tableau. At his bidding Jack took a snap-shot of the strange scene—a scene that would have been appropriate to the stage of a comic opera. Then he returned with his employer to the Green Dragon. The correspondents there—French, Italian, English, and American—were in the bustle of preparation for moving out next day to Liao-yang, where a big battle was expected to take place.Jack, it must be confessed, was considerably excited at the prospect of seeing something at close quarters of this terrible war, which had brought forth so many surprises for the world. Hitherto he had seen nothing but its fringe; and of the many contradictory rumours he had heard he was not disposed to believe too much. The Russian officers with whom he had talked were divided into two classes: the partisans of Alexeieff and those of Kuropatkin. The majority pinned their faith to Kuropatkin. If he had been left alone, they said, the war would have followed an entirely different course. He would have waited patiently at Harbin until his army had been raised to overwhelming strength; then he would have taken the offensive and driven the Japanese into the sea. But his strategy had been dictated either by Alexeieff or from St. Petersburg. Worse than that, he had not been able to devote his whole energies to the proper work of a commander-in-chief. That in itself was a stupendous task for one man, afflicted with a poor staff. But the general had been compelled to attend to details of commissariat, hospital arrangements, the supply of clothes, the preparation of maps. His was a harassing struggle against corruption, incompetence, and drunkenness. Once, alighting at a railway-station to make an inspection, he found the platform strewn with intoxicated officers. With a burst of anger, unusual in a man habitually patient and calm, he ordered the wretched men to be sent on by the first train to the front.What had been the course of the war since that memorable May day when the invading army crossed the Yalu? General Kuroki's brilliant dash was followed by several weeks of what to the outside world seemed comparative inaction. But during that period both sides were straining every nerve: the Russians to hurry forward reinforcements and complete the great fortified positions along the railway; the Japanese to perfect the arrangements for the three great armies which were, first, to cut off Port Arthur, and then to move northwards against the main Russian forces concentrating in the neighbourhood of Liao-yang. General Stackelberg having failed at Wa-fang-ho in his forlorn hope against the army investing Port Arthur, the northward movement of the Japanese was slowly resumed, the Russian right being steadily driven back along the railway with occasional half-hearted attempts to stem the Japanese advance. Meanwhile General Kuroki on the east had forced the mountain passes at Motien-ling, and General Nodzu, in command of the centre, was preparing for the attack on the Russian position at To-ma-shan that resulted in the evacuation of Hai-cheng. The beginning of August found the three Japanese armies relentlessly driving the Russian forces towards the fortified positions south of Liao-yang which General Kuropatkin had prepared as the scene of his first serious attempt to roll back the tide of invasion.It was a warm, dry morning, the 29th of August, when Schwab, Jack, and Hi Lo, mounted on hardy ponies, hit the Green Dragon for their forty miles ride to Liao-yang.Just before they reached the gate, Jack had an exceedingly uncomfortable moment when he noticed his father's enemy Sowinski hurrying in the opposite direction in a Pekin cart. The Pole passed without recognizing the tall figure in Chinese dress, though he gave a nod to Schwab. Jack knew that to the European all Chinamen look pretty much alike; but he did not wish to come to too close quarters with the Pole, and was glad that for a time at any rate he would run no risk of being recognized in the streets.The rains had ceased some days before; the wind was beginning to dry the mud which in the wet season renders all traffic impossible. The other correspondents had already gone to the front, and when our riders left the mud walls of Moukden behind them they saw nobody on the road except a regiment of Cossacks marching off behind their band, and a number of Greek camp-followers going south in the hope of reaping some profit from the battle.As they approached Liao-yang they heard the dull boom of guns in the distance. For several days the three Japanese armies under Generals Kuroki, Oku, and Nodzu had been marching through mountain passes and the valleys opening upon the Tai-tse-ho, and the Russians had been falling back on the circular line of defences which for three months they had been strengthening. As he heard the thunderous reverberations, Schwab exulted."So!" he exclaimed, "I haf vaited long time. At last my obbortunity haf come. Zis are business. ZeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonienshall haf fine bictures taken egsbress by a Gairman viz native assistance on ze sbot. Famos!"Liao-yang is a walled city lying on the direct road from Moukden to Newchang and Port Arthur, and even more picturesquely situated than the capital. Three miles north of the city flows the Tai-tse-ho, taking a northerly course by the north-east corner of the walls. The railway passes at some distance to the west, making an acute angle with the western end of the city. Southward the ground rises gradually. Here the Russians had prepared their defences; the crests of the hills were scored with several lines of trenches, the result of three months' diligent spade-work.Schwab and his two companions, entering the city from the north, found themselves in the midst of great bustle and activity. The streets were thronged with soldiers; long lines of transport wagons were arriving; and the merchants, native and foreign, were plying a brisk trade. Schwab had some difficulty in finding a lodging; the hotel, kept by a Greek, was full; but he at length secured a small cottage near the wall at an exorbitant rental. It was evening when they arrived; Hi Lo prepared a supper consisting of tinned sausages and biscuit brought from Moukden, and pears purchased from a local fruiterer. The booming of artillery had ceased, but the city was full of noise, and Jack was amazed at the careless light-hearted mood in which the soldiers, officers and men, were preparing for the struggle.Before seeking repose on his frowsy k'ang that night, Herr Schwab went out to prospect for a spot on which to place his camera next day. He returned in a state of exaltation."Zere shall be colossal combat," he said. "I haf shtood on ze blatform by ze reservoir, and zere I converse viz high Russian officer, his gloves vite as snow. No more shall zere be evacuation, he tell me; ze fight shall now be to ze death. Boy, ve shall see shtubendous zinks. You are afraid?"[image]Map of Battle of Liao-Yang, Aug-Sept. 1904. Map of Battle of Moukden."My no aflaid this-time, masta; allo-same my tinkey no hab look-see bobbely yet; what-time guns makee big bang-lo, that-time masta talkee 'bout Sin Foo he belongey aflaid.""Vell, you muss screw your gourage to ze shticky place, for vizout doubt ve shall be in ze midst of schrapnells. It insbires me: I breeze deep. I zink of my ancestor Hildebrand Suobensius, a great fighter, a Landsknecht, in ze Middle Age. Vun say zat I am ver' like."Herr Schwab struck his chest, and continued:"It is in ze blood. Zerefore vake me early in ze morning; ve shall be early out to secure a goot blace."But there was no need for Sin Foo to wake his master. Before day had fully broken, Herr Schwab was shocked from his sleep by the boom of heavy guns—the opening of a cannonade that broke the paper windows and set the crockery rattling. Springing up, he bade Hi Lo saddle the two ponies, and, stuffing some biscuits into his pocket, set off with Jack and the camera, leaving Hi Lo to guard the house.He led the way to the north-west of the town, past the reservoir and the brick-built government offices near the railway-station, which was already crowded with officers scanning the horizon through their binoculars. On the previous night he had marked a solitary hill, known as the Shu-shan, some distance south-west of the city, as an ideal place for a general view of the battle-field. An old Korean signal-tower crowned its summit; it was approached on two sides by easy slopes, but on the north was precipitous, its rocky face cut by ravines dark with overhanging clumps of firs. At the western base a battery of artillery was posted.Arriving at the hill, Schwab saw that it was impossible to ride up its northern face, while to ascend on either side would be to court death from the Japanese shells. But in his zeal on behalf of theIllustrirte Vaterlandhe was determined to gain the summit. Hitching the pony's reins to a tree, he bade Jack follow him up the steep acclivity nearer the road, warning him to be very careful of the camera. After a stiff climb they, panting, reached the top. Just as they appeared there was a prolonged whistle followed by a sharp crack; the new-comers were assailed with loud shouts; several hands seized upon Schwab and forced him into a trench cut in front of the tower, and rough Russian voices informed the puffing German that he had narrowly escaped a shrapnel. He did not understand what they said; but Jack, who had slipped into the trench behind him, whispered:"My tinkey this plenty nasty place. Japanese he shoot too stlaight."Herr Schwab mopped his face with a red bandanna and glanced somewhat nervously around. But the shock wore off, and finding himself to all seeming well protected, his courage soared into antiquity."My ancestor, Hildebrand Suobensius——" he began.There was a shriek above him; another shell had burst but a few yards away. He dropped flat in the trench. Twisting his neck until one side of its fleshiness was creased with deep furrows, he said:"Tell me, boy, do you see any more shells goming?"Jack peeped cautiously over."My no look-see no mo'e, masta. He come long-long chop-chop all-same."Schwab slowly rose to his knees, again mopping his brow."Zis is most terrible. Never did I zink zat var vas such a business! Gnädiger Himmel! vy haf I gome? Boy, I haf a bresentiment." His voice sank on a tragic note. "I feel it here." He laid his hand on the lower buttons of his ample waistcoat. "I, Hildebrand Schwab, shall vizout doubt be killed." He wrung the bandanna out. "Listen, boy, gif notice: ven I am killed you shall send all my goots to Schlagintwert Gompany in Düsseldorf, all egzept ze letter to Schneiders Sohne, vich gontain order for vun dozen trouser stretchers for General Belinski; zat you shall bost. And listen, boy:"—here his voice sank to a confidential whisper—"in my writing-desk zere is a visp of my hair tied up viz bink ribbon, and a boem, a boem of lov; zese you vill send to ze Frau Jane Bottle, at ze address on ze envelope, and you vill register ze packett. Yes—and insure it—you shall insure it for hundert dollars."Herr Schwab sighed deeply, at the same time keeping an eye on the direction whence the last shell had come.Another shrapnel burst a few yards in his rear. He groaned, lamenting bitterly. The men of Stackelberg's 1st Siberian Infantry paid no attention to him; in the trench they were secure. General Stackelberg himself was at the other end, grimly peering through his glasses over the epaulement.Suddenly the projectiles ceased to pass over them. Jack ventured to raise his head and scan the surrounding country. Before him stretched a plain dotted with villages, the fields covered with the waving green stalks of kow-liang. On the crests beyond, some two miles away, lay the batteries of the Japanese; their infantry was swarming in the intervening level, but concealed by the kow-liang. To the left, separated from the Shu-shan hill by the An-shan-chan road, was an irregular line of lower heights, stretching as far as the eye could reach and out of sight. Here were posted the main forces of the Russian infantry, ensconced in cunningly devised trenches. In every gap between the rocky hills batteries were placed, concealed by every possible device. To the west of Shu-shan the Russian cavalry, with a portion of the 1st Siberian Army Corps, was stationed to protect the railway and the right flank. Behind, between the hills and the town, large forces of infantry were held in reserve, with the hospital tents and field ambulances. Temporary lines of rail had been laid from the station to the rear of the hills, and on these trolleys containing ammunition were pushed along by men.Jack explained as much of the position as he could see to Schwab, who, in the security of the trench, took diligent notes, for reproduction in theIllustrirte Vaterlandas first-hand evidence."But tell me, boy, do you see General Kuroki? I do not lov General Kuroki; he ill-use me, he gif me vat zey call beans, ven I vas in Korea last year. Is he in sight?""My no can look-see one piecee Japanese. Allo hidee inside kowliang.""So! I make a note of zat. All ze Japanese hide. Ver' goot."Jack now became aware that General Stackelberg was standing erect at the end of the trench, fully exposed to the Japanese gunnery. The general, in hooded cloak, wearing white gloves, spick and span as if on parade, was calmly sweeping the plain with his glass, issuing orders, dictating telegrams, slowly, deliberately. Shells again began to fly around; but Stackelberg, summoned to the telephone installed behind the tower, walked erect towards the spot heedless of a shrapnel that burst within a few yards of him, bespattering his clothes with black dust. Jack felt a thrill of admiration; the general was giving the lie to the slanderers who said that at Wa-fang-ho he had skulked in his carriage.Now the sharp crackle of musketry was mingled with the shrieking of the shells. Long lines of Japanese were threading their way through the fields, endeavouring to turn the Russian right. Stackelberg marked the movement; he gave an order; the Russians in the trenches sprang to their feet and ran down the slope to reinforce the threatened position. Rain began to fall, and Schwab raised his head from the trench."Ach! it rains. Vill it shtop ze battle, zink you?""My no tinkey so," said Jack. "Japanese, he fetchee plenty big guns; he come this-side chop-chop.""Ach, ich Unglücklicher!" Schwab hastily dropped back into safety. "Nefer shall I leave ze Vaterland again. But I shall not return; Düsseldorf shall zee me no more; no; I haf a bresentiment; I feel it here."Jack, following the movement of his employer's hand, made a suggestion."P'laps masta he belongey hungly; p'laps he want-chee chow-chow." He offered him a biscuit.Schwab shook his head dismally."No, no; I haf no abbedide.""My eat he."Nibbling the biscuit, Jack, in a lull of the firing, ventured to leave the trench. A moment later he called to Schwab."My hab catchee one-piecee pictul. Japanese lunning long-side kowliang; littee littee black t'ings inside gleen stalks.""Gott sei dank! I shall not die vizout agomblishing somezink for ze Vaterland. Ach! zere is anozer!"There was a gentle sound overhead, like the cry of a wounded bird. An aide-de-camp crossing the hill-top fell with a groan. A bearer-party marked with the Red Cross appeared from behind the tower and swiftly bore him out of sight.Schwab flattened himself as much as his rotund form permitted against the floor of the trench. The cannonade was resumed with redoubled fury. The din was incessant; shells whistling and shrieking; musketry crackling; the Russian batteries in their emplacements thundering as they replied to the Japanese.Whole ranks of the Japanese were mowed down in the fields; still they pressed on. They were attempting to turn the Russian right. Reinforcements were hurried to the threatened regiments; battery answered battery; the ground trembled under the repeated shocks. The attack was repulsed, and long blood-stained tracks marked the path of the bearers as they conveyed thousands of wounded to the rear. Stackelberg had held his own.Dusk was falling, the rain ceased, and a steaming mist rose over the ground. There was a lull in the firing. Jack stood upon the epaulement. To the left he saw a village in flames."My hab catchee nuzza velly good pictul, masta," he said."Goot boy! Zink you it is now safe for me to shtand opp?""My tinkey so. He fightey man tinkee hab plenty nuff."Schwab got up slowly on his knees, peered over the edge of the trench, then stood upon his feet. He was beginning to regain his spirits."So! Famos!" he exclaimed. "I see all ze whole fielt of battle; I see burning villages, black fielts, hundert or tousand dead men. Zis is var. Vat a—vat a"—Herr Schwab was at a loss for words—"vat a zink is var!" He threw out his chest and snuffed the smoke-laden breeze. "But I muss go and describe ze battle for my journal, illusdraded viz photographs taken by a Gairman sobjeck on ze sbot. My ancestor Hildebrand——"They were turning to walk down the hill; a belated shrapnel shell burst within a few yards of them, peppering the ground in all directions. A splinter shaved off an inch or two of the leather cover of the camera. Schwab cut short his reminiscence by dropping flat upon the rain-soaked ground. When he arose, a pitiable object, after a short period of self-communing, without further words he hastened towards the path.Another shell crashed upon the rocks to the left, hurling a lofty fir-tree into the ravine."Ach! gome alonk, gome alonk! Ve shall be killed. Let us go to find our bonies."Scrambling down to the spot where they had left the animals, Schwab uttered a woeful cry; they had disappeared. A Siberian infantryman was passing; him the German interrogated. But the Russian shook his head; he knew no German. Jack ventured to question him in broken Russian."Yes, I did see two ponies. A Chinaman led them. That was long ago.""He say-lo China boy hab catchee two-piecee pony, wailo long-time."Schwab lifted up his voice in bitter lamentation. It was growing dark; the ground had been made a miry swamp by the rain; there was no alternative but to tramp back through it to Liao-yang. They reached the mandarin road. Their feet sank ankle-deep in mud; at every step they almost left their boots behind. Long stretches of the road were under water. Carts were passing drawn by long teams of mules. Schwab tried to bargain for a seat, but the drivers refused to listen to him; their loads were wounded men, who at every jolt uttered heart-rending moans. Jack suggested that they should leave the road and cut across the fields to the railway; they would find the embankment easier walking. This they did, pursued, as it seemed, by the whistling bullets of the Japanese. At length, unharmed, untouched, they reached the northern gate, and, entering, made their way all bemired, weary and famished, to the cottage where Hi Lo awaited them.CHAPTER XIIThe Retreat from Liao-yangRifle and Bayonet—Kuroki—Schwab's Strategic Movement—The Moukden Road—At Yentai—One of the Wounded—Pawns in the Game—Our Friends the Enemy—Story and Song—Schwab SmokesNext day dawned bright and clear. The fusillade had continued almost throughout the night, and the Japanese had made repeated assaults on the Russian trenches in the centre, only to be driven back every time with enormous slaughter. The first day's battle had no decisive result; the Japanese had failed to dislodge the Russians from any part of their line of defences. Jack was eager to go out again; his excitement had been kindled by what little he had been able to see of the opposing movements; after the first tremors, the shriek of shells and whistling of bullets had left him unmoved, and he was all afire to witness the continuation of the great struggle. But Schwab absolutely refused to budge."It vas not a bresentiment," he said. "It vas a bileattack. Zose shells, zeir schmell vas vorse zan Schwefelwasserstoffgas—I forget ze English name, but ze schmell is ze same; it is a schmell of eggs suberannuated. I suffer egstremely. Besides, zey haf shtole my bonies. And vat do I discover? I discover a damage in ze ubber egstremity of ze camera. Vy you tell me nozink about zis? I discover it, I say. Who done zat? Vy you bermit it? It is not business: it annoy me egstremely. I lose many dollars ven I shall gome to sell ze photographabbaratus. My gustomers vill now see it is not new. Venever I zink of it I suffer bile. I go not again to zis battle, no more does ze camera; I vait for ze next. I vill stay and cure ze bileattack. You shall see ze battle; I vill take notes ven you return."Jack had no intention of running unnecessary risks in order that Schwab might make "copy" out of his experiences. But he made his way towards the railway-station, expecting to obtain from the embankment as good a view as was possible without venturing again on the shell-swept hills. His choice was fortunate, for it happened that the closest fighting of the day took place west of the railway. General Oku had made up his mind to force this, the weakest spot in the Russian position. While, therefore, General Nodzu in the centre was repeating the first day's bombardment, the Russian right, throughout the day, was the scene of as terrible a series of infantry attacks as the world's history has known. Time after time the Japanese advanced to storm the trenches; time after time they were mowed down by the pitiless bullets of the enemy; but again and again they returned to the charge, recking nothing of death or wounds, thinking it a privilege indeed to end their lives in their country's cause. On both sides the bayonet did its fell work; at one point a trench was captured by a company of Japanese, but their ammunition was spent, they were unsupported, and their plight being perceived from a Russian trench a hundred yards distant, they were bayoneted to a man. As the hot day wore on, the Russians were driven back against the railway embankment; streams of wounded, their cries of agony mingled with the horrid sounds of war, flowed incessantly towards Liao-yang; and when sunset put an end to the firing, the bearer-parties went about their awful work on the battle-field.Except for the slight impression made on the right, the Russian position was intact. The Siberian regiments had held their own with splendid tenacity, and were almost recompensed for their terrible sufferings by the message of thanks from General Kuropatkin, who had witnessed their heroic resistance from his train beyond the railway-station. Jack started to return to Schwab with the impression that the force of the Japanese attack was broken, and that on the morrow the Russians would take the offensive. The day closed with a terrible rain-storm that turned the fields and roads into a quagmire. The streets of the city were thronged; soldiers, Chinamen, camp-followers, pedlars improving the occasion, all jostling one another in noisy confusion.Standing at the door of his cottage, Schwab hailed an American correspondent who was passing just as Jack appeared."Is ze battle finished gomblete?" asked Schwab eagerly."Yes; the Russians have won. It is their first victory. I am on my way to telegraph the news to New York—if I can get a wire.""Zen I vill write my account of ze closing scenes," said Schwab to Jack. "To-morrow, if ze sun shine, you can take more pictures of ze Japanese defeat."But half an hour later the American looked into the house on his way back to his own quarters."I was mistaken, Schwab," he said; "it is not a victory after all.""Eh?" said Schwab, looking up from his papers."The Russians are leaving their positions; evacuation has begun.""Himmel! Vat is ze meaning of zat?""Kuroki has crossed the Tai-tse-ho, and is threatening our communications. You had better clear out."Schwab might well be amazed. During the desperate and persistent attacks on the Russian right and centre, General Kuroki had crept steadily round their left, and forced a passage at a ford twenty-five miles east of the town. The news, as conveyed to Kuropatkin, was that the Japanese general had four divisions; he had, in truth, only two; and, misled by the exaggeration, Kuropatkin had felt it necessary to detach some of the seasoned Siberian regiments from Stackelberg's command in order to reinforce the less trustworthy European corps whom Kuroki was attacking. But the American was mistaken in speaking of evacuation. The commander-in-chief had only decided to abandon his advanced position, which had always been too widely extended for effective defence, and to withdraw his forces to the inner entrenchments, forming a large arc almost encircling the town, and resting at each end on the river.Overpowered by the terrors of "war that was real war", Schwab was goaded into feverish activity by the news of the withdrawal. His own pony was gone; so was Jack's; but Hi Lo's remained, and this the German ordered to be instantly prepared for himself. Whether the interest of the Schlagintwert Company or the safety of his own rotund skin was the more important consideration did not appear; but it is certain that, within half an hour after receiving the news of Kuropatkin's order, Schwab was riding as fast as the congested traffic would allow towards the north. He carried the precious camera and the negatives with him, leaving the tripod with Jack."You muss shift for yourself," said he at the moment of leaving. "You and Hi Lo muss gome on behind. I muss go qvick; it is a matter of business. Vun bony vill not carry zree, and if I do not arrive in Moukden before ze Russians zere vill be no money left to bay your vages. Take most egstreme care of ze dribod."Jack was not ill pleased to see the back of his employer. In other circumstances he might have been amusing; as it was, he was a trial of patience."I think we will wait till morning," said Jack to Hi Lo. "I am not sure all is over yet. In any case the Japanese won't come into the city in the dark; the firing has stopped; and we shall see our way better by daylight."So they stretched themselves on the k'ang and slept until the dawn. When they arose it was obvious that Schwab's flight was premature. True, the roads northward were crowded with fugitives, but they were in the main natives; the Russians held their positions; and Jack saw a fine regiment marching, not northward, but southward, in the direction of the enemy, singing the Russian national anthem with a spirit that little betokened a failing cause. But Jack felt that Schwab would expect his two servants to follow him; he would be helpless without them. The exodus from the city was already so great that it seemed best to go northwards by the pontoon bridge while it was possible. He therefore started on his way back to Moukden. Hi Lo had managed to secure a mule—Jack did not enquire how; and on this, with the boy trudging by his side, Jack crossed the river by the pontoon and gained the mandarin road.He found himself in a scene of terrible confusion. The road was blocked with vehicles of all descriptions,—droshkies, Pekin carts, ammunition wagons, country carts with their unwieldy teams; and crowds of camp-followers and Chinese tradesmen. Drivers were shouting, soldiers cursing, women shrieking. Chinamen staggered along with poles over their shoulders, a basket slung at each end containing a child barely awake, but laughing with glee at what seemed to its innocence a novel and pleasing adventure. Women passed, bent under heavy bundles containing their household gear; carts were heaped with bits of furniture, ambulance wagons with wounded and dead; here was a soldier leading a little donkey with a battered drum upon its back, there a farmer whose clumsy cart was filled with cackling ducks and squealing pigs. Now an axle would break, and the contents of the wagon were scattered over the ground; now the wheels of one cart would become locked with those of another, and the tangled teams plunged and kicked in the mud. Then the uproar became still more furious; riders, careless of what damage they might do, pressed their horses through the throng in haste to make good their escape from the terrible shells whose coming was announced from afar. The Japanese had begun to bombard the station.Jack saw that he had little chance of making his way through the crush. Calling to Hi Lo, he turned aside into a field of kowliang, already trampled, and rode on over the ruined crop. In the distance, on the left, he caught sight of train after train steaming northwards. Behind, dense clouds of smoke obscured the city: the Russian quarter of Liao-yang was in flames. Ever and anon a detonation shook the air, and by and by the whistle of bullets was heard; the Japanese had occupied the Shu-shan hill, and with their terrible long-range weapons were firing into the Russian settlement.The fourteen miles from Liao-yang to Yentai took Jack six hours. It was evening when he arrived—too late to go farther; and he put up for the night in a ruined hut. Russians were massed in the town, and covered the slopes towards the mines. The Russian left wing had been driven back in this direction, and it was to reinforce the hard-pressed troops here that Kuropatkin had withdrawn Stackelberg with his Siberians. But it was too late. Next day Kuroki flung his divisions upon the Russian entrenchments. At a critical moment General Orloff, professor in a Russian military college, attacked, contrary to his instructions. The Japanese hidden in the kowliang awaited the onset, then poured in a terrible fire, which threw the first regiment, composed of raw recruits, into confusion. They broke and fled; the regiment behind, prevented by the high stalks from seeing what had happened, opened fire upon their own comrades; a third was led into the same fatal error; and the entire left wing, bewildered, disorganized, sought safety in flight. Yentai was filled with the Russian wounded; surgeons, with coats off and shirt sleeves tucked up, went about their work in the open streets; the air was filled with the screams and groans of men in agony.Jack hurried through the town, and came again into the open country. A mile north of the town he overtook a bearded veteran crawling painfully along; he was wounded in the chest. He looked with haggard, covetous eyes on Jack's mule; his face was drawn and white; sweat was streaming from his brow. Jack stopped and sprang to the ground."Get on my mule," he said in Russian. "Hi Lo, help me to lift him up."The man broke into sobbing exclamations of thanks. Supported by Jack on one side, by Hi Lo on the other, he rode on during the rest of that hot day. At dusk they entered a straggling village, and Jack was thinking of looking for a shelter for the night when a rough voice from a cottage cried:"Ach, Strogoff! come here, comrade.""Nu, Chapkin," said the wounded man. "I am wounded, old friend."Jack led the mule to the door, and helped to carry the man into the cottage. It had been appropriated by a group of Russian soldiers who had become separated from their regiment. They received their wounded comrade with rough expressions of sympathy; and, learning from him of the Chinaman's kindness in lending his mule, they invited Jack and Hi Lo to stay with them. Jack was nothing loth. He shared his few remaining biscuits with the men, and sent Hi Lo out to buy some fruit if possible.The boy returned with some pears and peaches, which formed a welcome addition to their black bread and cakes of buckwheat.Sitting on the k'ang, Jack was an interested listener to the soldiers' talk. He did not understand all they said; they were simple moujiks, whose broad dialect was not easy to follow; but he picked up a good deal of their conversation.Strogoff had to relate how he had received his wound. His story was long in the telling, punctuated by many an "Ach!" "Och!" "Eka!" "Nu!" from his comrades."Ach!" he concluded, "the Japanese are fine fellows, but they are too little to use the bayonet. A bigger man would have made a better job of it, and I should be dead now.""Da! But you'd rather be alive, Strogoff?""How can I tell, Kedril? Will the doctors be able to mend my wound?""Not if they're such fools as the generals," grunted Kedril, a big, shaggy rifleman who had lost an arm."True, there are some fools among them. But better be a fool than a knave, like the commissaries. Why, half the biscuits served out to us to-day were full of maggots, and my boots—look at them!—are made of paper. Do you think the Little Father knows how we are cheated?""No, no; the Emperor does not know, Almazoff. He would not suffer these evils if he knew them. Nu! he cannot be everywhere, like the Lord God.""Things will be better some day. We've done our part, little pigeon. But the Emperor would not like it if he knew what lies they have told us. Why, they said the Japanese were dirty little men like monkeys; but they're cleaner than you and me, Strogoff.""And they said they walked with their heads downwards.""No, Chapkin, that's the English. They say the English walk upright in their own country, but when they go to another place of theirs called Australia they turn upside down and walk on their heads.""That can't be true, because Australia belongs to Germany. It's a part of America, I believe.""Nu! America belongs to England, so I dare say I was right after all. Anyway, the Japanese walk on their feet like us, and they fight well. I wonder what made them so angry with us?""I don't know. What do we get angry about when we're at home? Perhaps the Little Father called the Emperor of Japan a sheep; if you called me a sheep I should fight you; but emperors can't fight; of course not, for they've no one to give them orders except the Lord God, and He couldn't give orders to both at once.""But if they quarrel, why should they make us fight in thousands? It would be much better if his excellency the general and the Japanese marshal took off their coats and fought, just they two. That would be a fight worth seeing, eh, comrades?—a fight after the old style, before they did everything by machinery.""Da! It wouldn't matter so much if they made each other's nose bleed, instead of us shooting at the little Japanese and them shooting at us. Why, think of the thousands of widows there must be in Little Russia—da! and in Japan too, for I expect they have a kind of marriage there.""True, we haven't any quarrel with the little men; and they're not very angry either. When I was wounded in the bayonet charge, and lay on the ground, a Japanese came up and gave me a cigarette; ach! the sun was hot, and I was fanning myself with my cap, and he made me take a little paper fan he had. Here it is: I shall give it to my little Anna, dushenka! when I get home again.""Ach! shall we ever get home again? Look at the thousands of versts we are away; and we've got to stay till we beat the Japanese! Sing us your song, Chapkin—you know, the one that always makes me cry."The big veteran addressed took a sip from his half-empty flask of vodka, and began, in a fine baritone every note of which was charged with pathos—"No more my eyes will see the landWhere I was born.I suffer at my lord's command;My limbs are torn.Upon my roof the owl will moan;The pigeon for her mate will yearn;My heart with grief is broken down:No, never more shall I return!"The simple words brought tears to the eyes of all those rough soldiers. Kedril grunted and growled."Don't make us more sad. Almazoff, you're the only fellow among us who can read: read us something out of your English book; the piece about the great fight in heaven; that's the stuff for a soldier."Almazoff took from his pocket a dirty dog-eared paper-covered book, and turned over the leaves. Having found the place, he began, in a slow sonorous chant—
CHAPTER XI
War-Look-See
Schwab is Shocked—Snapshots—The Coming Battle—To Liao-yang—Schwab's Opportunity—Carpe Diem—Suobensius—Shimose—Last Wishes—Stackelberg—Something Accomplished—Rhapsody—Two-Piece Pony
That night Jack shared a tiny room with Hi Lo. The boy had become accustomed to see his master in Chinese dress, but the situation was entirely changed now that he had to regard him as an equal and address him as Sin Foo. Jack impressed on the little fellow that everything depended on his caution—Jack's own safety, and the prosecution of his quest; and Hi Lo showed a quite painful anxiety to behave with discretion and yet with naturalness.
Next day Schwab spent several hours in explaining to Jack, not too lucidly, the working of the camera; the development of the negatives he reserved for himself. Then he prepared to sally forth to make a few experiments. An American correspondent, standing with his hands in his pockets at the door of the little Chinese hotel, observed Jack as he passed.
"Hello, Schwab!" he shouted. "Caught a Tartar at last, eh?"
"Yes, Mr. Vanzant—if zat is not a shoke. Zis man is not afraid—he gif sign of modicum of intelligence; I zink he vill do."
"I guess he will do for your camera; well, so long!"
Walking out of the city, Schwab set Jack to take photographs of a few prominent objects—the Temple of Earth beyond the eastern gate, the Tomb of Wen-Hsiang, the statesman who rose from being a table-boy to the highest official appointments, Dr. Christie's Hospital, where the little Scots doctor had dispensed the blessings of Western surgery and medicine to thousands of grateful patients. Schwab was delighted with Sin Foo's rapid progress; it amazed him.
"Truly I zink ze Manchu is not such a fool as he look," he said.
"My plenty muchee glad masta likee Sin Fool," said Jack gravely.
"Ach! You do so vell zat to-morrow ve go to take var pictures. Zere vill soon be a great battle; ze Russians shall at last do goot business."
In the afternoon they went up to the railway-station to see if seats could be booked in next morning's train, Jack carrying the camera in case anything of interest should offer. The station was crowded. For many days troops had been passing towards the south; the platform was now thronged with soldiers, surgeons, nurses, camp-followers. Schwab was amazed, his German sense of discipline was shocked, to see colonels walking arm in arm with lieutenants; still more when he noticed a placard stuck up in the buffet, signed by General Sakharoff, threatening with dire punishment any officer who should presume to criticise his superiors or their conduct of the operations. He was disgusted also to observe, in a siding, a superb dining-room car in which a company of officers and ladies were eating and drinking with a light-hearted gaiety that ill matched the occasion, if the rumours of the stupendous battle approaching were well founded.
"You, Sin Foo," said Schwab, "I tell you zis; zat is not var. Zat is not ze vay ve Gairmans shall behave ourselves ven ve go to invade England; zen you vill see var zatisvar. You understan'?"
Seeing little probability of obtaining a seat in the train, Schwab decided to return to the hotel and journey south on ponies.
As they left the station a number of Russian soldiers who had just marched in were lying dead-beat in a sort of trench parallel with a siding. A troop train was being slowly made up, doubtless to convey these and other men southward to the front. Schwab stood contemplating them for a moment. Then he turned to Jack.
"Boy, upfix ze camera; ve vill take schnapshot of zese men."
"Allo lightee, masta," replied Jack, wondering at the German's choice of a subject. He was to be enlightened on that point later.
It was late in the day by the time they reached the city. Passing along the principal street, they saw a crowd of natives hurrying down a side alley uttering piercing shouts. Jack noticed that two or three of them had buckets suspended from the ends of a long bamboo pole carried on the shoulder.
"My tinkey house hab catchee fia."
"A gonflagration in Moukden! Zat vill be ver' interesting to ze abonnenten of my baber. Ve vill take it on ze hop."
Schwab led the way, his tall bulky form making a path through the crowd. A pawn-shop was ablaze. The roof had already fallen in. Siberian infantrymen were trying to keep order in the crowd—hundreds of Chinamen yelling, jostling each other, going hither and thither with their buckets, splashing through the mud. Many of them were laughing uproariously; to the Chinaman a fire is purely a spectacle, to be enjoyed without any disturbing sympathy for the victims, whose efforts to save themselves and their goods are greeted as the most enjoyable farce. Some of the crowd were waving bright-coloured flags; in the glare from the burning house it was like a scene from a country fair. Here and there Chinamen were squirting feeble and futile jets of water on the house from tiny copper pumps, like the syringes used at home for watering flowers. An old mandarin in yellow silk forced his way through the press, paying no heed to the fire, anxious only to get home without soiling his white socks. But the throng was becoming unwieldy; there was danger of the whole quarter being set ablaze; and at last a Russian captain came up with a squad of men at the request of the Chinese Viceroy himself, and set about clearing the street in a business-like way. For a few minutes the confusion seemed redoubled; the Chinamen scampered this way and that as the Russians came at the double along the street. This moment was seized by Schwab, who evidently had a keen eye for a tableau. At his bidding Jack took a snap-shot of the strange scene—a scene that would have been appropriate to the stage of a comic opera. Then he returned with his employer to the Green Dragon. The correspondents there—French, Italian, English, and American—were in the bustle of preparation for moving out next day to Liao-yang, where a big battle was expected to take place.
Jack, it must be confessed, was considerably excited at the prospect of seeing something at close quarters of this terrible war, which had brought forth so many surprises for the world. Hitherto he had seen nothing but its fringe; and of the many contradictory rumours he had heard he was not disposed to believe too much. The Russian officers with whom he had talked were divided into two classes: the partisans of Alexeieff and those of Kuropatkin. The majority pinned their faith to Kuropatkin. If he had been left alone, they said, the war would have followed an entirely different course. He would have waited patiently at Harbin until his army had been raised to overwhelming strength; then he would have taken the offensive and driven the Japanese into the sea. But his strategy had been dictated either by Alexeieff or from St. Petersburg. Worse than that, he had not been able to devote his whole energies to the proper work of a commander-in-chief. That in itself was a stupendous task for one man, afflicted with a poor staff. But the general had been compelled to attend to details of commissariat, hospital arrangements, the supply of clothes, the preparation of maps. His was a harassing struggle against corruption, incompetence, and drunkenness. Once, alighting at a railway-station to make an inspection, he found the platform strewn with intoxicated officers. With a burst of anger, unusual in a man habitually patient and calm, he ordered the wretched men to be sent on by the first train to the front.
What had been the course of the war since that memorable May day when the invading army crossed the Yalu? General Kuroki's brilliant dash was followed by several weeks of what to the outside world seemed comparative inaction. But during that period both sides were straining every nerve: the Russians to hurry forward reinforcements and complete the great fortified positions along the railway; the Japanese to perfect the arrangements for the three great armies which were, first, to cut off Port Arthur, and then to move northwards against the main Russian forces concentrating in the neighbourhood of Liao-yang. General Stackelberg having failed at Wa-fang-ho in his forlorn hope against the army investing Port Arthur, the northward movement of the Japanese was slowly resumed, the Russian right being steadily driven back along the railway with occasional half-hearted attempts to stem the Japanese advance. Meanwhile General Kuroki on the east had forced the mountain passes at Motien-ling, and General Nodzu, in command of the centre, was preparing for the attack on the Russian position at To-ma-shan that resulted in the evacuation of Hai-cheng. The beginning of August found the three Japanese armies relentlessly driving the Russian forces towards the fortified positions south of Liao-yang which General Kuropatkin had prepared as the scene of his first serious attempt to roll back the tide of invasion.
It was a warm, dry morning, the 29th of August, when Schwab, Jack, and Hi Lo, mounted on hardy ponies, hit the Green Dragon for their forty miles ride to Liao-yang.
Just before they reached the gate, Jack had an exceedingly uncomfortable moment when he noticed his father's enemy Sowinski hurrying in the opposite direction in a Pekin cart. The Pole passed without recognizing the tall figure in Chinese dress, though he gave a nod to Schwab. Jack knew that to the European all Chinamen look pretty much alike; but he did not wish to come to too close quarters with the Pole, and was glad that for a time at any rate he would run no risk of being recognized in the streets.
The rains had ceased some days before; the wind was beginning to dry the mud which in the wet season renders all traffic impossible. The other correspondents had already gone to the front, and when our riders left the mud walls of Moukden behind them they saw nobody on the road except a regiment of Cossacks marching off behind their band, and a number of Greek camp-followers going south in the hope of reaping some profit from the battle.
As they approached Liao-yang they heard the dull boom of guns in the distance. For several days the three Japanese armies under Generals Kuroki, Oku, and Nodzu had been marching through mountain passes and the valleys opening upon the Tai-tse-ho, and the Russians had been falling back on the circular line of defences which for three months they had been strengthening. As he heard the thunderous reverberations, Schwab exulted.
"So!" he exclaimed, "I haf vaited long time. At last my obbortunity haf come. Zis are business. ZeIllustrirte Vaterland und Colonienshall haf fine bictures taken egsbress by a Gairman viz native assistance on ze sbot. Famos!"
Liao-yang is a walled city lying on the direct road from Moukden to Newchang and Port Arthur, and even more picturesquely situated than the capital. Three miles north of the city flows the Tai-tse-ho, taking a northerly course by the north-east corner of the walls. The railway passes at some distance to the west, making an acute angle with the western end of the city. Southward the ground rises gradually. Here the Russians had prepared their defences; the crests of the hills were scored with several lines of trenches, the result of three months' diligent spade-work.
Schwab and his two companions, entering the city from the north, found themselves in the midst of great bustle and activity. The streets were thronged with soldiers; long lines of transport wagons were arriving; and the merchants, native and foreign, were plying a brisk trade. Schwab had some difficulty in finding a lodging; the hotel, kept by a Greek, was full; but he at length secured a small cottage near the wall at an exorbitant rental. It was evening when they arrived; Hi Lo prepared a supper consisting of tinned sausages and biscuit brought from Moukden, and pears purchased from a local fruiterer. The booming of artillery had ceased, but the city was full of noise, and Jack was amazed at the careless light-hearted mood in which the soldiers, officers and men, were preparing for the struggle.
Before seeking repose on his frowsy k'ang that night, Herr Schwab went out to prospect for a spot on which to place his camera next day. He returned in a state of exaltation.
"Zere shall be colossal combat," he said. "I haf shtood on ze blatform by ze reservoir, and zere I converse viz high Russian officer, his gloves vite as snow. No more shall zere be evacuation, he tell me; ze fight shall now be to ze death. Boy, ve shall see shtubendous zinks. You are afraid?"
[image]Map of Battle of Liao-Yang, Aug-Sept. 1904. Map of Battle of Moukden.
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Map of Battle of Liao-Yang, Aug-Sept. 1904. Map of Battle of Moukden.
"My no aflaid this-time, masta; allo-same my tinkey no hab look-see bobbely yet; what-time guns makee big bang-lo, that-time masta talkee 'bout Sin Foo he belongey aflaid."
"Vell, you muss screw your gourage to ze shticky place, for vizout doubt ve shall be in ze midst of schrapnells. It insbires me: I breeze deep. I zink of my ancestor Hildebrand Suobensius, a great fighter, a Landsknecht, in ze Middle Age. Vun say zat I am ver' like."
Herr Schwab struck his chest, and continued:
"It is in ze blood. Zerefore vake me early in ze morning; ve shall be early out to secure a goot blace."
But there was no need for Sin Foo to wake his master. Before day had fully broken, Herr Schwab was shocked from his sleep by the boom of heavy guns—the opening of a cannonade that broke the paper windows and set the crockery rattling. Springing up, he bade Hi Lo saddle the two ponies, and, stuffing some biscuits into his pocket, set off with Jack and the camera, leaving Hi Lo to guard the house.
He led the way to the north-west of the town, past the reservoir and the brick-built government offices near the railway-station, which was already crowded with officers scanning the horizon through their binoculars. On the previous night he had marked a solitary hill, known as the Shu-shan, some distance south-west of the city, as an ideal place for a general view of the battle-field. An old Korean signal-tower crowned its summit; it was approached on two sides by easy slopes, but on the north was precipitous, its rocky face cut by ravines dark with overhanging clumps of firs. At the western base a battery of artillery was posted.
Arriving at the hill, Schwab saw that it was impossible to ride up its northern face, while to ascend on either side would be to court death from the Japanese shells. But in his zeal on behalf of theIllustrirte Vaterlandhe was determined to gain the summit. Hitching the pony's reins to a tree, he bade Jack follow him up the steep acclivity nearer the road, warning him to be very careful of the camera. After a stiff climb they, panting, reached the top. Just as they appeared there was a prolonged whistle followed by a sharp crack; the new-comers were assailed with loud shouts; several hands seized upon Schwab and forced him into a trench cut in front of the tower, and rough Russian voices informed the puffing German that he had narrowly escaped a shrapnel. He did not understand what they said; but Jack, who had slipped into the trench behind him, whispered:
"My tinkey this plenty nasty place. Japanese he shoot too stlaight."
Herr Schwab mopped his face with a red bandanna and glanced somewhat nervously around. But the shock wore off, and finding himself to all seeming well protected, his courage soared into antiquity.
"My ancestor, Hildebrand Suobensius——" he began.
There was a shriek above him; another shell had burst but a few yards away. He dropped flat in the trench. Twisting his neck until one side of its fleshiness was creased with deep furrows, he said:
"Tell me, boy, do you see any more shells goming?"
Jack peeped cautiously over.
"My no look-see no mo'e, masta. He come long-long chop-chop all-same."
Schwab slowly rose to his knees, again mopping his brow.
"Zis is most terrible. Never did I zink zat var vas such a business! Gnädiger Himmel! vy haf I gome? Boy, I haf a bresentiment." His voice sank on a tragic note. "I feel it here." He laid his hand on the lower buttons of his ample waistcoat. "I, Hildebrand Schwab, shall vizout doubt be killed." He wrung the bandanna out. "Listen, boy, gif notice: ven I am killed you shall send all my goots to Schlagintwert Gompany in Düsseldorf, all egzept ze letter to Schneiders Sohne, vich gontain order for vun dozen trouser stretchers for General Belinski; zat you shall bost. And listen, boy:"—here his voice sank to a confidential whisper—"in my writing-desk zere is a visp of my hair tied up viz bink ribbon, and a boem, a boem of lov; zese you vill send to ze Frau Jane Bottle, at ze address on ze envelope, and you vill register ze packett. Yes—and insure it—you shall insure it for hundert dollars."
Herr Schwab sighed deeply, at the same time keeping an eye on the direction whence the last shell had come.
Another shrapnel burst a few yards in his rear. He groaned, lamenting bitterly. The men of Stackelberg's 1st Siberian Infantry paid no attention to him; in the trench they were secure. General Stackelberg himself was at the other end, grimly peering through his glasses over the epaulement.
Suddenly the projectiles ceased to pass over them. Jack ventured to raise his head and scan the surrounding country. Before him stretched a plain dotted with villages, the fields covered with the waving green stalks of kow-liang. On the crests beyond, some two miles away, lay the batteries of the Japanese; their infantry was swarming in the intervening level, but concealed by the kow-liang. To the left, separated from the Shu-shan hill by the An-shan-chan road, was an irregular line of lower heights, stretching as far as the eye could reach and out of sight. Here were posted the main forces of the Russian infantry, ensconced in cunningly devised trenches. In every gap between the rocky hills batteries were placed, concealed by every possible device. To the west of Shu-shan the Russian cavalry, with a portion of the 1st Siberian Army Corps, was stationed to protect the railway and the right flank. Behind, between the hills and the town, large forces of infantry were held in reserve, with the hospital tents and field ambulances. Temporary lines of rail had been laid from the station to the rear of the hills, and on these trolleys containing ammunition were pushed along by men.
Jack explained as much of the position as he could see to Schwab, who, in the security of the trench, took diligent notes, for reproduction in theIllustrirte Vaterlandas first-hand evidence.
"But tell me, boy, do you see General Kuroki? I do not lov General Kuroki; he ill-use me, he gif me vat zey call beans, ven I vas in Korea last year. Is he in sight?"
"My no can look-see one piecee Japanese. Allo hidee inside kowliang."
"So! I make a note of zat. All ze Japanese hide. Ver' goot."
Jack now became aware that General Stackelberg was standing erect at the end of the trench, fully exposed to the Japanese gunnery. The general, in hooded cloak, wearing white gloves, spick and span as if on parade, was calmly sweeping the plain with his glass, issuing orders, dictating telegrams, slowly, deliberately. Shells again began to fly around; but Stackelberg, summoned to the telephone installed behind the tower, walked erect towards the spot heedless of a shrapnel that burst within a few yards of him, bespattering his clothes with black dust. Jack felt a thrill of admiration; the general was giving the lie to the slanderers who said that at Wa-fang-ho he had skulked in his carriage.
Now the sharp crackle of musketry was mingled with the shrieking of the shells. Long lines of Japanese were threading their way through the fields, endeavouring to turn the Russian right. Stackelberg marked the movement; he gave an order; the Russians in the trenches sprang to their feet and ran down the slope to reinforce the threatened position. Rain began to fall, and Schwab raised his head from the trench.
"Ach! it rains. Vill it shtop ze battle, zink you?"
"My no tinkey so," said Jack. "Japanese, he fetchee plenty big guns; he come this-side chop-chop."
"Ach, ich Unglücklicher!" Schwab hastily dropped back into safety. "Nefer shall I leave ze Vaterland again. But I shall not return; Düsseldorf shall zee me no more; no; I haf a bresentiment; I feel it here."
Jack, following the movement of his employer's hand, made a suggestion.
"P'laps masta he belongey hungly; p'laps he want-chee chow-chow." He offered him a biscuit.
Schwab shook his head dismally.
"No, no; I haf no abbedide."
"My eat he."
Nibbling the biscuit, Jack, in a lull of the firing, ventured to leave the trench. A moment later he called to Schwab.
"My hab catchee one-piecee pictul. Japanese lunning long-side kowliang; littee littee black t'ings inside gleen stalks."
"Gott sei dank! I shall not die vizout agomblishing somezink for ze Vaterland. Ach! zere is anozer!"
There was a gentle sound overhead, like the cry of a wounded bird. An aide-de-camp crossing the hill-top fell with a groan. A bearer-party marked with the Red Cross appeared from behind the tower and swiftly bore him out of sight.
Schwab flattened himself as much as his rotund form permitted against the floor of the trench. The cannonade was resumed with redoubled fury. The din was incessant; shells whistling and shrieking; musketry crackling; the Russian batteries in their emplacements thundering as they replied to the Japanese.
Whole ranks of the Japanese were mowed down in the fields; still they pressed on. They were attempting to turn the Russian right. Reinforcements were hurried to the threatened regiments; battery answered battery; the ground trembled under the repeated shocks. The attack was repulsed, and long blood-stained tracks marked the path of the bearers as they conveyed thousands of wounded to the rear. Stackelberg had held his own.
Dusk was falling, the rain ceased, and a steaming mist rose over the ground. There was a lull in the firing. Jack stood upon the epaulement. To the left he saw a village in flames.
"My hab catchee nuzza velly good pictul, masta," he said.
"Goot boy! Zink you it is now safe for me to shtand opp?"
"My tinkey so. He fightey man tinkee hab plenty nuff."
Schwab got up slowly on his knees, peered over the edge of the trench, then stood upon his feet. He was beginning to regain his spirits.
"So! Famos!" he exclaimed. "I see all ze whole fielt of battle; I see burning villages, black fielts, hundert or tousand dead men. Zis is var. Vat a—vat a"—Herr Schwab was at a loss for words—"vat a zink is var!" He threw out his chest and snuffed the smoke-laden breeze. "But I muss go and describe ze battle for my journal, illusdraded viz photographs taken by a Gairman sobjeck on ze sbot. My ancestor Hildebrand——"
They were turning to walk down the hill; a belated shrapnel shell burst within a few yards of them, peppering the ground in all directions. A splinter shaved off an inch or two of the leather cover of the camera. Schwab cut short his reminiscence by dropping flat upon the rain-soaked ground. When he arose, a pitiable object, after a short period of self-communing, without further words he hastened towards the path.
Another shell crashed upon the rocks to the left, hurling a lofty fir-tree into the ravine.
"Ach! gome alonk, gome alonk! Ve shall be killed. Let us go to find our bonies."
Scrambling down to the spot where they had left the animals, Schwab uttered a woeful cry; they had disappeared. A Siberian infantryman was passing; him the German interrogated. But the Russian shook his head; he knew no German. Jack ventured to question him in broken Russian.
"Yes, I did see two ponies. A Chinaman led them. That was long ago."
"He say-lo China boy hab catchee two-piecee pony, wailo long-time."
Schwab lifted up his voice in bitter lamentation. It was growing dark; the ground had been made a miry swamp by the rain; there was no alternative but to tramp back through it to Liao-yang. They reached the mandarin road. Their feet sank ankle-deep in mud; at every step they almost left their boots behind. Long stretches of the road were under water. Carts were passing drawn by long teams of mules. Schwab tried to bargain for a seat, but the drivers refused to listen to him; their loads were wounded men, who at every jolt uttered heart-rending moans. Jack suggested that they should leave the road and cut across the fields to the railway; they would find the embankment easier walking. This they did, pursued, as it seemed, by the whistling bullets of the Japanese. At length, unharmed, untouched, they reached the northern gate, and, entering, made their way all bemired, weary and famished, to the cottage where Hi Lo awaited them.
CHAPTER XII
The Retreat from Liao-yang
Rifle and Bayonet—Kuroki—Schwab's Strategic Movement—The Moukden Road—At Yentai—One of the Wounded—Pawns in the Game—Our Friends the Enemy—Story and Song—Schwab Smokes
Next day dawned bright and clear. The fusillade had continued almost throughout the night, and the Japanese had made repeated assaults on the Russian trenches in the centre, only to be driven back every time with enormous slaughter. The first day's battle had no decisive result; the Japanese had failed to dislodge the Russians from any part of their line of defences. Jack was eager to go out again; his excitement had been kindled by what little he had been able to see of the opposing movements; after the first tremors, the shriek of shells and whistling of bullets had left him unmoved, and he was all afire to witness the continuation of the great struggle. But Schwab absolutely refused to budge.
"It vas not a bresentiment," he said. "It vas a bileattack. Zose shells, zeir schmell vas vorse zan Schwefelwasserstoffgas—I forget ze English name, but ze schmell is ze same; it is a schmell of eggs suberannuated. I suffer egstremely. Besides, zey haf shtole my bonies. And vat do I discover? I discover a damage in ze ubber egstremity of ze camera. Vy you tell me nozink about zis? I discover it, I say. Who done zat? Vy you bermit it? It is not business: it annoy me egstremely. I lose many dollars ven I shall gome to sell ze photographabbaratus. My gustomers vill now see it is not new. Venever I zink of it I suffer bile. I go not again to zis battle, no more does ze camera; I vait for ze next. I vill stay and cure ze bileattack. You shall see ze battle; I vill take notes ven you return."
Jack had no intention of running unnecessary risks in order that Schwab might make "copy" out of his experiences. But he made his way towards the railway-station, expecting to obtain from the embankment as good a view as was possible without venturing again on the shell-swept hills. His choice was fortunate, for it happened that the closest fighting of the day took place west of the railway. General Oku had made up his mind to force this, the weakest spot in the Russian position. While, therefore, General Nodzu in the centre was repeating the first day's bombardment, the Russian right, throughout the day, was the scene of as terrible a series of infantry attacks as the world's history has known. Time after time the Japanese advanced to storm the trenches; time after time they were mowed down by the pitiless bullets of the enemy; but again and again they returned to the charge, recking nothing of death or wounds, thinking it a privilege indeed to end their lives in their country's cause. On both sides the bayonet did its fell work; at one point a trench was captured by a company of Japanese, but their ammunition was spent, they were unsupported, and their plight being perceived from a Russian trench a hundred yards distant, they were bayoneted to a man. As the hot day wore on, the Russians were driven back against the railway embankment; streams of wounded, their cries of agony mingled with the horrid sounds of war, flowed incessantly towards Liao-yang; and when sunset put an end to the firing, the bearer-parties went about their awful work on the battle-field.
Except for the slight impression made on the right, the Russian position was intact. The Siberian regiments had held their own with splendid tenacity, and were almost recompensed for their terrible sufferings by the message of thanks from General Kuropatkin, who had witnessed their heroic resistance from his train beyond the railway-station. Jack started to return to Schwab with the impression that the force of the Japanese attack was broken, and that on the morrow the Russians would take the offensive. The day closed with a terrible rain-storm that turned the fields and roads into a quagmire. The streets of the city were thronged; soldiers, Chinamen, camp-followers, pedlars improving the occasion, all jostling one another in noisy confusion.
Standing at the door of his cottage, Schwab hailed an American correspondent who was passing just as Jack appeared.
"Is ze battle finished gomblete?" asked Schwab eagerly.
"Yes; the Russians have won. It is their first victory. I am on my way to telegraph the news to New York—if I can get a wire."
"Zen I vill write my account of ze closing scenes," said Schwab to Jack. "To-morrow, if ze sun shine, you can take more pictures of ze Japanese defeat."
But half an hour later the American looked into the house on his way back to his own quarters.
"I was mistaken, Schwab," he said; "it is not a victory after all."
"Eh?" said Schwab, looking up from his papers.
"The Russians are leaving their positions; evacuation has begun."
"Himmel! Vat is ze meaning of zat?"
"Kuroki has crossed the Tai-tse-ho, and is threatening our communications. You had better clear out."
Schwab might well be amazed. During the desperate and persistent attacks on the Russian right and centre, General Kuroki had crept steadily round their left, and forced a passage at a ford twenty-five miles east of the town. The news, as conveyed to Kuropatkin, was that the Japanese general had four divisions; he had, in truth, only two; and, misled by the exaggeration, Kuropatkin had felt it necessary to detach some of the seasoned Siberian regiments from Stackelberg's command in order to reinforce the less trustworthy European corps whom Kuroki was attacking. But the American was mistaken in speaking of evacuation. The commander-in-chief had only decided to abandon his advanced position, which had always been too widely extended for effective defence, and to withdraw his forces to the inner entrenchments, forming a large arc almost encircling the town, and resting at each end on the river.
Overpowered by the terrors of "war that was real war", Schwab was goaded into feverish activity by the news of the withdrawal. His own pony was gone; so was Jack's; but Hi Lo's remained, and this the German ordered to be instantly prepared for himself. Whether the interest of the Schlagintwert Company or the safety of his own rotund skin was the more important consideration did not appear; but it is certain that, within half an hour after receiving the news of Kuropatkin's order, Schwab was riding as fast as the congested traffic would allow towards the north. He carried the precious camera and the negatives with him, leaving the tripod with Jack.
"You muss shift for yourself," said he at the moment of leaving. "You and Hi Lo muss gome on behind. I muss go qvick; it is a matter of business. Vun bony vill not carry zree, and if I do not arrive in Moukden before ze Russians zere vill be no money left to bay your vages. Take most egstreme care of ze dribod."
Jack was not ill pleased to see the back of his employer. In other circumstances he might have been amusing; as it was, he was a trial of patience.
"I think we will wait till morning," said Jack to Hi Lo. "I am not sure all is over yet. In any case the Japanese won't come into the city in the dark; the firing has stopped; and we shall see our way better by daylight."
So they stretched themselves on the k'ang and slept until the dawn. When they arose it was obvious that Schwab's flight was premature. True, the roads northward were crowded with fugitives, but they were in the main natives; the Russians held their positions; and Jack saw a fine regiment marching, not northward, but southward, in the direction of the enemy, singing the Russian national anthem with a spirit that little betokened a failing cause. But Jack felt that Schwab would expect his two servants to follow him; he would be helpless without them. The exodus from the city was already so great that it seemed best to go northwards by the pontoon bridge while it was possible. He therefore started on his way back to Moukden. Hi Lo had managed to secure a mule—Jack did not enquire how; and on this, with the boy trudging by his side, Jack crossed the river by the pontoon and gained the mandarin road.
He found himself in a scene of terrible confusion. The road was blocked with vehicles of all descriptions,—droshkies, Pekin carts, ammunition wagons, country carts with their unwieldy teams; and crowds of camp-followers and Chinese tradesmen. Drivers were shouting, soldiers cursing, women shrieking. Chinamen staggered along with poles over their shoulders, a basket slung at each end containing a child barely awake, but laughing with glee at what seemed to its innocence a novel and pleasing adventure. Women passed, bent under heavy bundles containing their household gear; carts were heaped with bits of furniture, ambulance wagons with wounded and dead; here was a soldier leading a little donkey with a battered drum upon its back, there a farmer whose clumsy cart was filled with cackling ducks and squealing pigs. Now an axle would break, and the contents of the wagon were scattered over the ground; now the wheels of one cart would become locked with those of another, and the tangled teams plunged and kicked in the mud. Then the uproar became still more furious; riders, careless of what damage they might do, pressed their horses through the throng in haste to make good their escape from the terrible shells whose coming was announced from afar. The Japanese had begun to bombard the station.
Jack saw that he had little chance of making his way through the crush. Calling to Hi Lo, he turned aside into a field of kowliang, already trampled, and rode on over the ruined crop. In the distance, on the left, he caught sight of train after train steaming northwards. Behind, dense clouds of smoke obscured the city: the Russian quarter of Liao-yang was in flames. Ever and anon a detonation shook the air, and by and by the whistle of bullets was heard; the Japanese had occupied the Shu-shan hill, and with their terrible long-range weapons were firing into the Russian settlement.
The fourteen miles from Liao-yang to Yentai took Jack six hours. It was evening when he arrived—too late to go farther; and he put up for the night in a ruined hut. Russians were massed in the town, and covered the slopes towards the mines. The Russian left wing had been driven back in this direction, and it was to reinforce the hard-pressed troops here that Kuropatkin had withdrawn Stackelberg with his Siberians. But it was too late. Next day Kuroki flung his divisions upon the Russian entrenchments. At a critical moment General Orloff, professor in a Russian military college, attacked, contrary to his instructions. The Japanese hidden in the kowliang awaited the onset, then poured in a terrible fire, which threw the first regiment, composed of raw recruits, into confusion. They broke and fled; the regiment behind, prevented by the high stalks from seeing what had happened, opened fire upon their own comrades; a third was led into the same fatal error; and the entire left wing, bewildered, disorganized, sought safety in flight. Yentai was filled with the Russian wounded; surgeons, with coats off and shirt sleeves tucked up, went about their work in the open streets; the air was filled with the screams and groans of men in agony.
Jack hurried through the town, and came again into the open country. A mile north of the town he overtook a bearded veteran crawling painfully along; he was wounded in the chest. He looked with haggard, covetous eyes on Jack's mule; his face was drawn and white; sweat was streaming from his brow. Jack stopped and sprang to the ground.
"Get on my mule," he said in Russian. "Hi Lo, help me to lift him up."
The man broke into sobbing exclamations of thanks. Supported by Jack on one side, by Hi Lo on the other, he rode on during the rest of that hot day. At dusk they entered a straggling village, and Jack was thinking of looking for a shelter for the night when a rough voice from a cottage cried:
"Ach, Strogoff! come here, comrade."
"Nu, Chapkin," said the wounded man. "I am wounded, old friend."
Jack led the mule to the door, and helped to carry the man into the cottage. It had been appropriated by a group of Russian soldiers who had become separated from their regiment. They received their wounded comrade with rough expressions of sympathy; and, learning from him of the Chinaman's kindness in lending his mule, they invited Jack and Hi Lo to stay with them. Jack was nothing loth. He shared his few remaining biscuits with the men, and sent Hi Lo out to buy some fruit if possible.
The boy returned with some pears and peaches, which formed a welcome addition to their black bread and cakes of buckwheat.
Sitting on the k'ang, Jack was an interested listener to the soldiers' talk. He did not understand all they said; they were simple moujiks, whose broad dialect was not easy to follow; but he picked up a good deal of their conversation.
Strogoff had to relate how he had received his wound. His story was long in the telling, punctuated by many an "Ach!" "Och!" "Eka!" "Nu!" from his comrades.
"Ach!" he concluded, "the Japanese are fine fellows, but they are too little to use the bayonet. A bigger man would have made a better job of it, and I should be dead now."
"Da! But you'd rather be alive, Strogoff?"
"How can I tell, Kedril? Will the doctors be able to mend my wound?"
"Not if they're such fools as the generals," grunted Kedril, a big, shaggy rifleman who had lost an arm.
"True, there are some fools among them. But better be a fool than a knave, like the commissaries. Why, half the biscuits served out to us to-day were full of maggots, and my boots—look at them!—are made of paper. Do you think the Little Father knows how we are cheated?"
"No, no; the Emperor does not know, Almazoff. He would not suffer these evils if he knew them. Nu! he cannot be everywhere, like the Lord God."
"Things will be better some day. We've done our part, little pigeon. But the Emperor would not like it if he knew what lies they have told us. Why, they said the Japanese were dirty little men like monkeys; but they're cleaner than you and me, Strogoff."
"And they said they walked with their heads downwards."
"No, Chapkin, that's the English. They say the English walk upright in their own country, but when they go to another place of theirs called Australia they turn upside down and walk on their heads."
"That can't be true, because Australia belongs to Germany. It's a part of America, I believe."
"Nu! America belongs to England, so I dare say I was right after all. Anyway, the Japanese walk on their feet like us, and they fight well. I wonder what made them so angry with us?"
"I don't know. What do we get angry about when we're at home? Perhaps the Little Father called the Emperor of Japan a sheep; if you called me a sheep I should fight you; but emperors can't fight; of course not, for they've no one to give them orders except the Lord God, and He couldn't give orders to both at once."
"But if they quarrel, why should they make us fight in thousands? It would be much better if his excellency the general and the Japanese marshal took off their coats and fought, just they two. That would be a fight worth seeing, eh, comrades?—a fight after the old style, before they did everything by machinery."
"Da! It wouldn't matter so much if they made each other's nose bleed, instead of us shooting at the little Japanese and them shooting at us. Why, think of the thousands of widows there must be in Little Russia—da! and in Japan too, for I expect they have a kind of marriage there."
"True, we haven't any quarrel with the little men; and they're not very angry either. When I was wounded in the bayonet charge, and lay on the ground, a Japanese came up and gave me a cigarette; ach! the sun was hot, and I was fanning myself with my cap, and he made me take a little paper fan he had. Here it is: I shall give it to my little Anna, dushenka! when I get home again."
"Ach! shall we ever get home again? Look at the thousands of versts we are away; and we've got to stay till we beat the Japanese! Sing us your song, Chapkin—you know, the one that always makes me cry."
The big veteran addressed took a sip from his half-empty flask of vodka, and began, in a fine baritone every note of which was charged with pathos—
"No more my eyes will see the landWhere I was born.I suffer at my lord's command;My limbs are torn.Upon my roof the owl will moan;The pigeon for her mate will yearn;My heart with grief is broken down:No, never more shall I return!"
"No more my eyes will see the landWhere I was born.I suffer at my lord's command;My limbs are torn.Upon my roof the owl will moan;The pigeon for her mate will yearn;My heart with grief is broken down:No, never more shall I return!"
"No more my eyes will see the land
Where I was born.
Where I was born.
I suffer at my lord's command;
My limbs are torn.
My limbs are torn.
Upon my roof the owl will moan;
The pigeon for her mate will yearn;
The pigeon for her mate will yearn;
My heart with grief is broken down:
No, never more shall I return!"
No, never more shall I return!"
The simple words brought tears to the eyes of all those rough soldiers. Kedril grunted and growled.
"Don't make us more sad. Almazoff, you're the only fellow among us who can read: read us something out of your English book; the piece about the great fight in heaven; that's the stuff for a soldier."
Almazoff took from his pocket a dirty dog-eared paper-covered book, and turned over the leaves. Having found the place, he began, in a slow sonorous chant—