Under the Mikado's flag

“Well, here we are at Ping-yang and no sight of the Russians yet.”

“That is true, Ben; but from all accounts the enemy are not far distant,” said Gilbert, who was polishing up his sword, which had become dimmed by dampness.

“I see you are getting ready for a fight.”

“We didn’t come such a long distance as this to play. If I’m going to fight, I’d like to get at it. I hate to grow rusty in a camp, doing nothing.”

“I believe most of the fighting is being done by the warships,” went on Ben, who was resting on a heap of straw.

“Well, that is bound to be the case until both the Russian army and our own are in first-class fighting trim. Neither side is going to risk a big battle until then.”

What Ben said about the fights on the sea was true. The Japanese continued to hammer at Port Arthur and at the Russian ships stationed there, and as a result of several engagements a Japanese torpedo destroyer was sunk, and a similar vessel of the Russians blown up by a mine. The losses on both sides were not heavy. But the constant firing made all the residents and troops at Port Arthur very anxious, and many foreigners lost no time in quitting the city. In the meantime the work on the Russian defenses went on as before, and a Russian army began to come down from northern Manchuria to give the city relief should the Japanese endeavor to capture it, a movement begun but a short while later.

Three days after the conversation recorded above Major Okopa came to the quarters of the command in suppressed excitement.

“There is work for us to do at last,” said he, after calling Gilbert, Ben, and his other officers together. “We go on the march at sundown to-day.”

“May I ask where to?” asked Gilbert.

“We are to move northward on the road to An-ju and Chong-ju,” was the answer. “It is reported that the Russians are sending out troops around one of the mountain passes. We are to learn if this is correct, and if so we are to open fire, for the purpose of learning how strong the command really is.”

“That suits me,” cried Gilbert. And Ben echoed the sentiment.

Soon after that the soldiers were set to work packing their belongings. The stores of the commissary department were taken care of by twenty-odd coolies and a score of Korean donkeys and ponies. Many of the stores were in big, square boxes, and it was a queer sight to see a donkey or pony coming along with a big box strapped on each side, and perhaps another on top of him. Behind the animal would trot a coolie, carrying another box, or a big package, on his shoulders.

“Those coolies are no better than slaves,” declared Gilbert.

“That is true,” said Major Okopa. “But they are as faithful as anybody you can imagine.”

It was known for a fact that the Russians had some troops at Chong-ju, so the advance through the mountains had to be made with caution. The Russian command was composed of six squadrons of Cossacks, under General Mischenko,—as daring a set of cavalrymen as ever existed.

“We’ve got to keep our weather eye open for those Cossacks,” said Gilbert, while on the march that evening. “It would be a fine thing if they should surround us and cut off our retreat.”

“It will be our own fault if we allow them to do it,” returned Ben.

The battalion was now perfectly drilled, and each man could shoot fairly well. Because so many of the soldiers had been students the command had been nicknamed the University Corps, and this name clung to it throughout the entire campaign. Among the privates and under-officers not only Gilbert, but also Ben, had made many friends.

No rest was taken until almost daybreak, and then the battalion went into temporary camp between two hills, where a dense wood cut off the view from nearly every side. The spot was practically in the heart of a Korean forest, with a small stream flowing silently at the base of the hills. There had been a footbridge over the stream, but the recent freshet had carried the timbers away.

All were tired out after a tramp of many miles, and glad to rest on any sort of bed that came handy. The place was picketed with care, and then all became quiet.

Gilbert was resting on a bed of boughs he had had a coolie cut for him when, from a distance, he heard a shot, followed by several others in rapid succession. At once he leaped up, and at the same time an alarm sounded throughout the whole camp.

“Something is wrong, that is certain,” came from Ben, and a few minutes later the companies were formed. In the meantime a strong guard plunged into the forest, to learn what the shots meant.

There was an anxious wait, and then it was learned that a body of sixteen Cossacks on horseback had appeared on a ridge overlooking the forest. Unfortunately the Japanese picket in that vicinity had shown himself, and some of the Cossacks had fired on him and he had fired in return. Then of a sudden the Cossacks had disappeared.

It must be confessed that under these circumstances Major Okopa did not know whether to advance or retreat. He waited where he was until night and then made a movement as if to withdraw. This was only, however, a ruse, and at midnight the University Corps went forward at a faster pace than ever.

“We must take some risk, even if we draw on a regular engagement,” said the major to Gilbert.

“Can’t we send spies ahead, major? That might save the battalion from trouble.”

“I’ve thought of doing that towards morning. But I don’t want any detachment to get too far away from our main body.”

“I see. Well, if you send out spies, I hope you’ll let me go with them,” continued the ex-lieutenant of the American regulars.

“Have you ever done such work before?”

“A little.”

“Then perhaps I’ll let you go, since you desire it.”

Another halt was made at three o’clock in the morning. They were now at a point where the road forked, that to the left leading to the mountain pass, and that on the right to one of the mountain tops. The trail was a narrow one, hardly fit for anything but men on foot or horseback.

After a brief discussion it was decided to send out two detachments, one under Gilbert and another under Ben. Gilbert was to take the trail leading to the mountain top and at sunrise get the best view possible of the situation. Ben was to hunt for the Cossacks, but not to engage them unless it could not be helped.

The work just suited Gilbert, and it was not long before he was on the way, accompanied by eight men from his company whom he knew he could trust implicitly.

It was still dark, but the road was a fairly straight one up the hills and not difficult to follow. The detachment went in single file, and each man had his weapon ready for use.

“Do not shoot unless it is necessary,” said Gilbert, and the men under him knew that the American officer meant just what he said. Gilbert never issued an order twice, consequently his men did not look for it.

For fully an hour the detachment climbed one hill and then another. Occasionally they passed the huts of some Koreans, but if the inhabitants were anywhere about they did not show themselves. They knew it would be useless to apply to any of the natives for information, for whatever might be told to them could not be relied upon.

Presently they began the ascent of the mountain proper. Here the trail was more difficult and progress was, consequently slow. There was a cliff to pass, narrow and dangerous, and then a series of rocks around which the trail ran in serpentine fashion.

So far there had been nothing in the way of an alarm, but now, from a great distance, came two shots, followed, after an interval of several minutes, by half a dozen others. Gilbert at once called a halt.

“Satmo, what do you think? where did those shots come from?” he asked of a sharpshooter trudging behind him.

“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.

“I see nothing of any soldiers——” he began, and then gave a start. “Yes! There are some troops, just coming from yonder forest!”

He handed the glasses back to Gilbert, and the young captain gazed in the direction pointed out. The sharpshooter was right, a body of Cossacks numbering at least three hundred had put in an appearance, all riding rapidly, and in the direction where the command under Major Okopa had been left!

“They mean to fight—if they have discovered our force!” thought Gilbert. “I must warn the major of this without delay!”

He took another look and now saw another body of Cossacks approaching but a quarter of a mile behind the second.

“Our force can never fight that body of cavalry!” he muttered. “If we were surrounded, they’d cut us down to a man! We have discovered the enemy with a vengeance!”

He felt that there had been a blunder somewhere, but now was no time to speculate upon this. Major Okopa must be warned, and also Ben, and then the whole of the Japanese detachment must retreat to some point of safety.

But scarcely had this entered his head when he remembered something which caused him fresh alarm. The road the Cossacks were on was the very one Ben and his detachment had traveled. Was it possible the detachment had been surprised and either killed or made prisoners?