“That way, captain,” was the answer, in Japanese, and the soldier pointed with his hand.
“That is what I thought, too. Is it not the direction taken by Captain Russell and his detachment?”
“I should say it was, captain.”
“Then he must have met some of the enemy,” murmured Gilbert, and relapsed into silence.
It was not pleasant for him to think his bosom friend might be in trouble. But as he could just then offer no assistance, he ordered his detachment forward once more, and thus they moved on until the very summit of the mountain was gained. By that time all were tired out and glad to rest.
The night had been clear and the day to follow was equally so. Gilbert had brought with him a strong pair of field glasses, and with these he surveyed the scene spread before him with eagerness and keen interest.
Far to the westward rolled the glistening waters of the Yellow Sea, while equally distant eastward were the lofty peaks which form the backbone of Korea from north to south. Closer was the sparkling river, and at a distance one settlement and another, the walls and towers standing out clearly before the background of houses and huts. To the northwest was Chong-ju, where it was known the Cossacks were in force. In that direction Gilbert looked for a long while.
He had expected to see the encampment under Major Okopa, but the forest hid this from view, and not a single soldier of any nationality was in sight.
“Tell me if you see anything alarming,” said he to Satmo. “I do not.”
The Japanese sharpshooter took the glasses and looked around as his captain had ordered. He shook his head slowly.