Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War

by Herbert Strang

The conversation dragged on for some time longer, turning upon the great struggle then in progress between Russia and Japan. Bob was thoroughly tired when at length the voices ceased, the evil-smelling lamps were put out, and the guests sought their several couches. He was burning with eagerness to learn from Ah-Sam what he had discovered; but it was too dangerous to attempt to talk to him in the inn, and he had perforce to wait until the morning.

Early next morning they purchased as large a stock of provisions as they could carry in their wicker-baskets, and set off towards the hill of which the landlord had spoken. Bob felt that the eyes of the people in the inn were upon them as they left. The late-comer of the previous evening stood at the door watching them with his furtive eyes. Ah-Sam, in obedience to a cautious whisper of Bob's, had made particular enquiries regarding the road to their alleged destination. The nearest village of any consequence, he had learnt, was about twenty miles distant, on the far slope of a range of high hills just visible against the morning sky. Towards this, then, the three took their course, in a direction that would lead some four miles outside the forbidden district of the Mountain Tiger. The country was rolling and sparsely wooded, becoming more and more broken as it approached the hills that stretched across the horizon from south-west to north-east.

When they were fairly away from the inn, Bob whispered to Ah-Sam that on no account must he or the chief look behind. Presently the path led them through a clump of trees, and Bob seized the opportunity to look back, from behind a trunk, along the path towards the inn. He was just in time to see, about a third of a mile away, the figure of a man scuttling along in their wake. Even in the distance Bob was almost sure that he recognized the beetle-browed guest who had so persistently addressed him in the inn. Again impressing upon his two companions the importance of not looking back, he set a steady but not hurried pace, and now that he was well out of earshot, got from Ah-Sam a full account of what he had learnt in the inn. They tramped on for two hours before resting on the slope of a low hill, which from the Chinaman's general description appeared to be the hill from whose summit Chang-Wo's fort could be seen. But, in order to avoid the appearance of curiosity, Bob called a halt some distance down the slope rather than at the top. Then pursuing their way after a short rest, still careful to show no suspicion of being followed, they gained the crest of the hill, and saw a wide expanse of country spread out before them. They did not pause now, but Bob, taking his observations as he walked, noted in the far distance to the left a bright spot against the dark background of a hill. It gradually defined itself as an extensive building perched on a precipitous spur. The intervening country was bare; and at two or three spots upon it he descried small moving patches, which he surmised to be bodies of horsemen. One of these patches, from its size consisting of from twenty to thirty riders, was much nearer than the others, and apparently heading in his direction. It was still very far away, and since it was not coming from the direction of the inn he hoped that the horsemen were not concerned with him. He would have liked to hurry his pace, but recognized that he would thus awaken the suspicion of the man behind, who, as he had perceived by a hasty glance some time before, was still following.

The situation was clearly somewhat awkward. If the horsemen were indeed coming on the track of the party of three, Bob suspected that they would not be satisfied with explanations, but would arrest them and carry them to the fortress for examination by Chang-Wo himself. In that case nothing could save them, for Bob at any rate must be instantly recognized. If they were not actually on his track, they might be set upon it by the Manchu coming up behind. It was important, at any rate, to know whether they were working in concert with that dogged pursuer, and Bob decided that his best course was to dodge the latter until this point could be cleared up.

What could be done? There was no time for making experiments; if the attempt at eluding the Manchu did not succeed at once, it would fail miserably and entirely. Bob looked anxiously around. For some distance the path had led over loose, rocky ground, alternating with small copses of hill trees where the rainfall had washed the soil into hollows. The copse nearest to the spot on which he now stood was a ragged clump of stunted pines, which in the late Manchurian spring had scarcely begun to show signs of new growth. In any case it would prove an insecure place of hiding, for it would be instantly searched by his pursuers. But half a mile farther on he spied a narrow watercourse zigzagging almost at right angles to the track. It was a mountain stream which had been so swollen by the frost and rains that it had cut a bed some feet deep in the face of the hill. Except where it crossed the path it was concealed by the shelving bank.

As Bob's eyes fell upon it, a sudden idea struck him. Hurrying his pace, he led the way towards it, and found that on the other side was a stretch of damp, mossy ground, leading up to an irregular group of rocks somewhat to the left of the path. These rocks were the lower fringe of a vast extent of broken country—a country of large boulders separated by narrow, tortuous fissures. Without telling his companions what was in his mind, he waded through the stream, the water of which was still icy cold, and stepped on to the wet, oozing ground. The two Chinamen followed him; the footsteps of the three left deep prints in the moss, filled instantly by water. They gained the rocks beyond; then Bob, instead of pursuing the same course, which would have been among the inhospitable boulders, turned sharp to the left, and describing a rough semicircle came back to the stream.

His followers tramped along behind him, saying never a word, wondering what his purpose was, and confident that this doubling on their track was not without some important end in view. Along the bed of the stream, the water rising almost to his knees, he made his way as rapidly as possible, crossed his former path, and continued his march for some hundred and fifty yards beyond, till he came to a spot where the bank on the right was low, scarcely above the level of the water. There he left the stream, and wading through a small swamp, bore continually to the right until he arrived almost at the path again, more than a hundred yards from the stream. He had thus made a complete circuit, and come to a point where the hillside rose steeply above the path and was strewn with several fallen trees uprooted or overthrown by the previous autumn's storms. Creeping forward with great caution under cover of the prostrate trunks and of the few standing trees which the elements had spared, the little party came to a spot almost immediately over the path, but completely screened from the sight of anyone below. There they lay in cold silence and waited.

Hardly more than two minutes passed when they heard the rapid shuffle of footsteps upon the stony path, and the hard breathing of a man. Peering cautiously over, Bob saw that it was their Manchu pursuer. He was moving with swiftness on his clogs, seeming uneasy at having lost sight of the party. He did not look up; indeed, he would never have suspected the hiding-place above him, for no one could have reached it directly from the path without being seen by him. Panting and perspiring, he had only just passed the concealed party, when Bob heard the clink of approaching hoofs, and a few moments later a group of riders dashed over the crest of a hillock some distance on the other side of the path and bore down immediately on the Manchu, who stopped, wheeled round, and stood waiting.

With a thrill of uneasiness Bob saw that the foremost of the horsemen was Chang-Wo himself. Sing-Cheng also recognized his old enemy; Bob heard him pant, and for a moment feared lest an incautious exclamation should betray him. But Ah-Sam was on the watch; he laid his hand on the chief's arm, and the man restrained his pent-up rage.

Chang-Wo rode up to the Manchu and eagerly questioned him. Bob was, of course, unable to follow their brief conversation, but from their gestures and demeanour—the man pointing along the path ahead, his leader's face gleaming with malignant satisfaction—he divined what its purport was. With a grunt of approval Chang-Wo rode on; his troop followed him. Bob counted sixteen horsemen. Then the Manchu, his features relaxing in the relief of a task accomplished, sat down contentedly beside the path, untied his wallet, and brought out a handful of dried fish, which he proceeded to devour.