Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War

by Herbert Strang

"I will tell you all about it—but here come my scouts," replied Bob. "What have they discovered?"

He learnt that they had seen nothing of the enemy, save for half a dozen whom they had noticed riding away to the south-west.

"Possibly to bring assistance," he thought, though on reflection that seemed hardly the quarter in which help could be obtained. He sought out Kobo, who was resting in one of the other houses, and asked his opinion.

"No doubt they have been sent by Chang-Wo to be on the look-out against the approach of a Japanese force. It is clear to me that Chang-Wo will not retire without an attempt to reduce the monastery, especially as he knows that I am here."

"But you think it would be possible to fetch water?"

"Certainly, if it can be done very quietly."

Bob at once went off to make the necessary arrangements. He first sent a number of the Chunchuses down the hillside to a clump of trees on the right, some distance below the wall, to cover the water-carriers and take the Manchus in flank in the event of a sudden assault. Then, under guidance of one of the monks, he himself with twenty men stole out to the left. He stationed the men at equal distances apart down the slope, then started six buckets along the line. As these were filled they were passed up from hand to hand, and returned in the same way when empty to be filled again. Within the walls the monks received the full buckets as they arrived, and emptied them into a large tank behind the temple. The work was done as quickly and quietly as possible, but every now and then one of the men as he moved up the slope to the man above him struck the edge of his bucket against a rock, causing a sound that could hardly escape attentive ears. Such accidents could not be avoided, but at last they occurred so frequently as the men grew tired that Bob thought it time to make good a retreat. Just as he was giving the order, there was an outburst of yells from lower down the slope, and some hundreds of Manchus on foot came surging upwards. Seizing the muskets that lay ready to their hands Bob's men made a break for the wall, the enemy only a few yards behind them. From the Chunchuses in the clump of trees there was a sharp discharge of musketry, but it was ineffectual to check the rush, which had evidently been prepared with some skill, or the movement could scarcely have been unobserved by Bob's scouts.

It was now nearly dark, and as the men of Bob's party scrambled in hot haste over the wall they were in imminent danger of being shot down by the excited garrison in mistake for Manchus. Bob was glad that he had been able to leave in command so cool and experienced a warrior as Kobo. As he vaulted over the low wall, pursued by a Manchu, he heard Kobo's clear voice, incisive amid the tumult, addressing the Chunchuses in their own tongue. Not a man of them fired his piece: it was clear that Kobo had ordered them to await his command. At last, just as Bob, unrecognized in the darkness, had followed the last of his men across the wall, he heard Kobo give a sharp order. There was a rush of Chunchuses to the wall; they had stood some paces back in order to allow their comrades room to get across. Muskets and rifles flashed all along the line; and the cries of wounded men mingled with shouts of rage and defiance as the whole mass of the enemy swarmed up to the low breastwork.

There was no time for the defenders to reload; the fading light barely allowed man to see man; snatching up their long spears they stood resolute to meet their foes. Seventeen of the men who went out with Bob had returned in safety. For a few moments they were too breathless after their scramble to take a hand in the fight; but with Ah-Sam's help Bob collected them into a compact body and held them as a reserve. He succeeded but just in time. Scarcely thirty yards away a mass of yelling figures, led by a tall man armed with a bayonet, swept through a gap in the wall. Others followed; the space beyond was choked with advancing forms. With the instinct of seasoned warriors the Manchus felt that at this point the defence was weak. Pointing to the furious crowd, Bob, having learnt the word from Ah-Sam, ordered his men to fire. There was a burst of flame; every shot told in the dense throng; and while they were at a momentary recoil Bob led his men headlong into the thick of the mêlée. He could never afterwards recall any details of the ensuing fight. He only remembered Kobo limping at his side, the grunts of the combatants, the reek of gunpowder, an occasional sigh or groan as a man dropped to the ground, felled by the stock of a musket or transfixed by a spear. But it was his charge that turned the scale in the quarter where the attack was fiercest. Suddenly the pressure relaxed; a tremor of panic seemed to pulse through the enemy's ranks; and a moment later the space in front of the wall was clear of the enemy.

He was almost inclined to rub his eyes, so sudden was the change. He looked round for Kobo, but could not see him. His first feeling was one of relief for the sake of the two ladies whose fortunes had been so strangely linked with his own. But he could scarcely hope even now that all danger from Chang-Wo and his ruffians was past. The accounts he had had of that warrior gave him little expectation that even a third or fourth rebuff would turn him from his purpose of vengeance. In the silence that followed the repulse—a silence unbroken even by cheers from the victors, for the men were exhausted—he wondered whether another attack was immediately to be feared. He looked again for Kobo, but in vain. Then he called up the chief and Ah-Sam, and told them to place pickets down the hill to watch the enemy. The rest of the men he bade to tend the wounded, among whom he feared that Kobo would be found. It was now quite dark, but he hesitated to use torches, lest they should draw the fire of the enemy and facilitate another assault. After some minutes an exclamation from Ah-Sam announced that Kobo was found. He was pinned to the ground beneath a huge Manchu. Bob had him carefully lifted and carried to the abbot's house, where the ladies, who had awaited the issue of the fight in nervous dread, were only too glad to find relief for their emotions in active tendance. Kobo, unconscious from a blow on the head, was placed in their hands. Under their care he soon came round, but found himself unable to rise. The wound in his foot had reopened through his recent exertions; it was clear that he suffered great pain, but he was smiling when he said to Mrs. Pottle: