“Yes, we shall march straight to Tien-Tsin,” said the Japanese, in excellent English. “I was told of your command, and shall be pleased to have your company. I shall keep to the right of the railroad so long as the enemy remains under cover. The French are going to keep to the left.”
“Then we will continue close to the river,” answered Major Morris; and, saluting, he rode off. Necessary orders were at once issued; and again Gilbert found himself on the march.
The forward movement continued until long after midnight, when, too tired out to go another step, the battalion was stopped by the commander. The French detachment, consisting of six hundred men, likewise halted. But the Japanese would not stop, and went off with their steady, tripping step, in a manner to astonish everybody.
“By Jove, I believe they could march for a week without stopping,” was Captain Banner’s comment. “They seem to be all bone and muscle.”
“And they live on little but rice, too,” added Gilbert. “It certainly is wonderful what they can endure.”
The Frenchmen were glad enough to have the Americans at hand, and the two camps were pitched side by side. The foreigners were from the south of France, and were mostly the sons of farmers or grape-growers.
“We are bound to meet all kinds of people here,” said Gilbert. He was much interested in the Frenchmen, and was sorry he could not converse with them. Here and there a conversation was held, but it was soon discovered that the supply of French on one side and of English on the other was decidedly limited.
Gilbert had become accustomed to sleeping on the battlefield; and, seeking the most sheltered spot he could find, he was soon in the land of dreams. He slept until daybreak, and was just turning over for another nap when one of the sergeants aroused him.
“Up quick, lieutenant!” was the cry. “The Chinese are coming along the river. We are in for another scrap, sure, and a big one!”