The army was under the command of Marshal Oyama. The general who had released me was General Yamaji, a rather sleepy-looking man, wearing a moustache and long goatee upon a rather fat face; his hair was thick and long, and his ears appeared to me very long and big. He wore medals and stars, one in the centre of his chest; he had a profusion of lace in curling cords, so to speak, upon his sleeves, epaulets and shoulder-knots. The marshal, when I saw him, was decked with stars—quite a galaxy. He had rather a humorous face, and it was quite devoid of hair. Some of the other officers appeared as well set up and "groomed" as British officers, their short hair, shaven cheeks, and trim moustaches, all aiding the resemblance, with bright keen expression and smartness of manner.
While making these observations, which I have recorded as they occurred to me, I lost no opportunity to escape to the sea, but though I was permitted to wander about, and even assisted in my searches, I found no opening for retreat. There were correspondents of European, and even Japanese, newspapers and illustrated periodicals, but though they were most polite and sympathetic, none of them assisted me in the way I desired. Whether they credited my narrative or not one cannot say, but they—perhaps wisely—did not seem actually anxious to get me away by stratagem. On the other hand, they were not unkind.
On that memorable 7th November the guns of the Japanese warships were heard outside, and speculation was rife. The troops had already advanced to Talien Bay, where forts protect the peninsula of the "Regent's Sword," as the narrow isthmus is called. If the invaders captured these forts, the road to Port Arthur would be open, and Shing-Ching would be at the mercy of the Japanese. They did not hesitate to advance against these strongholds. Three detachments marched bravely on, supported by artillery and cavalry, and I followed as a spectator, well in the rear, but not out of range.
The troops advanced full of determination, and were received with an equally decided fire—for a short time. The assailants took no notice of these rounds, but, dropping a few of their number, rushed on; I, surprised at myself, followed, keeping under shelter as much as possible from fragments of soaring shells, which were few and far between. The troops reached the forts, and with a volley mounted to the walls, protected by their artillery. Then came a pause, then a distant cheer, renewed again and again. The Japanese flag was waving over the forts, and the Chinese, pursued by bullets and shell-fire, were running away as fast as their feet could carry them. The fugitives had quitted their guns—in many cases undischarged—and were "cutting away" to Port Arthur, their flying forms looking as unlike soldiers as possible to European eyes, their heads being bound up as with silk handkerchiefs—perhaps to keep the pigtail out of harm's way, for I noticed this head-dress was almost general with Chinese.
The Talien forts were thus captured, to my extreme surprise. I climbed up the hill and reached one of them afterwards; and while seeking a way to the seaside, considerating which path I had best pursue to escape to the outlying fleet in the bay, a friendly hand was placed upon my shoulder firmly, and held me. I turned suddenly, startled by the sudden arrest. Five Japanese soldiers had come upon me, bringing two unfortunate Chinese prisoners. They bound me in silence, and led me away, making no reply even by gesture to my complaints.
CHAPTER XV
AN ADVENTURE ON THE HILLS—THE VALLEY OF
THE SHADOW OF DEATH—TALIEN-WAN
For a while I was passive. Then, realising the danger of this new situation, I made violent efforts to escape my captors. A prod of a sword-bayonet was the only reply, and the sharp steel point caused a cry of pain to escape me. What had I done? I looked at the men who had captured me. They did not appear to be regular soldiers. They were armed indeed, but they lacked the uniform, the gaiters, and the knapsacks, so heavy to be borne, which the Japanese regular infantry wear. Where were the white-crowned caps or the white bands of the regiments I had seen? nor was the grenade-star of the engineers visible. Then I guessed that these men were camp-followers—coolies—robbers, perhaps, who had got out of hand and intended to kill or torture the Chinese. Finding me in the fort, and a stranger, they had seized me too. No one amid all the hurrying soldiers took any notice of my escort save to glance at us. The spectacle of Chinese prisoners was too common then.
"The Japanese never kill their prisoners." These soothing words came into my mind as the party of camp-followers descended the hill—not in the direction of the camp which I had quitted, but in that of the seaside. As we advanced I could see the warships shelling the villages along the coast, punishing the innocent natives. My captors also saw them, and gesticulated savagely. Then the idea struck me that I was in the power of banditti! Men who made war equally upon both sides, and in Japanese garb or in Chinese dress plundered or murdered all alike. The two Chinese, my companions in misfortune, wore buttons on their hats. They were perhaps mandarin officers. The buttons seemed to me to be of glass or crystal, and the men were perhaps of moderately high rank. The coral button is the highest token, and descends to blue and lapis-lazuli, to crystal and gilt buttons.