Under the Mikado's flag

What Ben said was true. A battery of six guns was moving swiftly along the road which led to the bridge of the stream before them. The battery was so close that they could plainly hear the shouts of the drivers, as they urged their horses along the highway in the direction of the fatal spot.

“Come, there is no time to lose here!” shouted Gilbert, and put spurs to his horse. Ben followed, and away they went side by side to the very end of the bridge.

Would it be safe to cross this structure? Each asked himself that question, and then turned an anxious look upon his companion.

“Better not try it,” said Ben.

“Let us ford the river—if we can,” returned Gilbert, and turned his horse from the bridge to a trail that led to the water’s edge.

Usually the stream was of small importance, but the recent rains had greatly swollen the rush of water. In they dashed and went down, first to their steeds’ knees and then to their bodies. The horses were used to this sort of thing, however, and did not hesitate or lose their footing.

The battery was thundering along not over two hundred feet from the end of the bridge, when Gilbert and Ben confronted the foremost driver.

“Back! back!” shouted both, in their loudest tones, and Gilbert added, as the driver still kept on: “Back! for your life!”

He swung around, and reaching down, caught one of the leading battery horses by the head. He continued to shout, and just before the bridge was reached the leading gun was halted, and the others also came to a standstill.

“What does this mean?” demanded the captain of artillery, as he dashed up on horseback.

“Don’t go on the bridge,” answered Gilbert, saluting, while Ben did the same.

“Why not?”

“I have every reason to believe that the Russians have placed a mine under it.”

At these words there was much astonishment, and Gilbert and Ben had to tell all they knew. Mined bridges are not new, and before long an examination of the structure was made and some dynamite and powder located, along with an electric battery and wire, set to explode the mine the moment an extra heavy weight should pass onto the bridge.

“Captain, you have done us a great service,” said the commander of the artillery to Gilbert. “I shall not forget this and shall report it to the general.” But the report was never sent in, for the reason that two days later the captain of artillery was killed, along with nearly half of the men composing his battery.

From the captain Gilbert and Ben learned where to find the command to which they belonged. In the meantime, Casey and Stummer joined the others—walking over the bridge when it was safe to do so—and the four went forward as before.

“Dot vos a great ding to do—safe dot pattery,” remarked Stummer. “Dot vos a fedder mit your cab in, cabtain.”

“Oh, I did no more than my duty,” said Gilbert modestly. And then he insisted upon changing the subject.

When the camp was gained late that evening many were astonished to hear what both Gilbert and Ben had to tell. They reported in full, and told of the movements of the enemy so far as they knew them.

“It was a daring thing to escape from that prison,” said one of their superior officers. “Had they caught sight of you, they would surely have shot you down.”

“We knew the risk we were running,” answered Ben. “We don’t want another such experience.”

In the camp they found a number of letters awaiting them. Ben had two from home—one from his brother Walter, and one from his Uncle Job Dowling. Both said that matters were running smoothly, and that Walter was doing remarkably well in his new business. They were surprised that Ben had gone into the army with Gilbert, but wished him well. They added that so fair they had not heard from Larry since he had left Nagasaki on the Columbia.

Gilbert’s principal letter was from the Richmond Importing Company. In this he was complimented on having made such a good bargain with the Japanese authorities for the Columbia’s cargo, and for having sent the schooner to Manila for another cargo. He was also advised to keep his eyes open for Ivan Snokoff, and bring that rascal to justice if it could possibly be done.

“As if I hadn’t done my best to run him down,” said Gilbert, after reading the letter to his chum.

“I suppose they do not realize the difficulties in the way,” answered Ben. “But, somehow, I feel it in my bones that you’ll run across Snokoff some day, and before this war is over, too.”

“It doesn’t seem possible, Ben. He’ll be sure to keep away from any Japanese advance.”

Both Gilbert and Ben were glad to rest for several days after returning to camp. The men of their companies were delighted to have them back, and each insisted upon coming up and shaking hands.

During those days of idleness Gilbert was surprised one day to receive a visit from Jiru Siko.

“Come to war las’ week,” explained the little brown man. “All wife an’ children in Nagasaki now. Going to fight Russians all time, show ’em what Jiru Siko can do—not afraid of them, no!”

“Good for you, Siko!” laughed Gilbert. “I hope you come out of the campaign a general.” Then he asked about the O-Taka and her captain, and learned that the vessel was now being used to transport soldiers and stores along the Korean coast.

The advance of General Kuroki’s army in the direction of Liao-Yang began August 23. There was a smart skirmish with a small body of Russians who immediately fell back towards An-Ping. After this Field Marshal Oyama ordered a general advance of the three Japanese armies, and it was this advance which brought on the great chain of fights lasting ten days, which are now known as the battle of Liao-Yang—a bloody struggle which has few parallels in history. In this contest over four hundred thousand men were engaged, the battlefield extending over a distance of seventy-five miles, and the killed and wounded numbered fully thirty thousand.

As said before, the Japanese commander not only washed to confront General Kuropatkin in battle, but he wished also to get behind the Russian general and cut him off from a possible retreat northward along the line of the railroad. For this reason, while General Oku and General Nodzu hammered at the Russian front, General Kuroki struck the Russian line in the far east, and did his best to turn the enemy’s flank.

Liao-Yang is on the Tai-tse River, which flows almost east and west. In order to get around the Russian flank it was necessary for General Kuroki to cross the river, as well as cross several smaller streams. All of the hills in that vicinity were in the possession of the Russians and were protected by batteries. There was a strong Russian detachment at An-Ping, and another at Liandiansian.

General Kuroki’s army advanced in three columns, through the valley of the Lan, a small stream flowing into the Tai-tse, and here it was that a hot fight was experienced, in which both Japanese and Russians showed uncommon bravery. The Japanese general wished to separate the two Russian fighting forces, but his plan was only partly successful, and before the third day’s fighting in that vicinity, General Kuropatkin became alarmed at the possibility of having his flank turned, and ordered his troops to fall back, which they did, leaving An-Ping and numerous other places of advantage in the hands of the Japanese.

The first shock of this great battle was felt by Gilbert and Ben the second day after the general advance was begun. The battalion was ordered to help drive a Russian battery from its position on a small hill, and away went the Japanese soldiers on the double-quick, with fixed bayonets. “Banzai! banzai!” was the cry, and the charge was delivered with tremendous fierceness. The Russians answered by pouring in a deadly fire which killed fully a quarter of the companies. But the Japanese did not waver, and went forward once more with louder shouts than ever.

“This is war, if ever there was such a thing!” panted Ben, as he came up beside Gilbert, after the fighting had continued the best part of half an hour. He was dripping from perspiration and so out of breath he could scarcely speak.

“Both sides seem to know how to fight,” was Gilbert’s reply.

“What is the matter with your left hand?”

“I got stuck with a bayonet. But it doesn’t amount to much.”

“Do you think the Russians will retreat?”

“We are ordered to charge until they do, Ben. There is no retreat for our side,” answered the acting major of the battalion.

Again came the shock of battle, and once more a great number of men were mowed down. But now the Russians broke and started to run. Then the battery tried to get away. One gun was overcharged and blown to pieces, and another overturned by the Japanese, while the remainder made good their escape. On the field lay three of the gunners who had died at their post of duty.

When night fell the Japanese had gained an important position to the east of Liao-Yang, and the Russians had been driven back all along the line. As tired as the soldiers were they were forced to fortify the positions they had gained, and the artillery was brought up, so as to be in readiness by daybreak.

It was not yet six o’clock when the contest was renewed, but this was to the south and southwest. For the command under Gilbert there was nothing to do but to march down to the river. Here a crossing was effected during the afternoon. The Russians offered a slight show of resistance, and called additional troops to the front during the night.

The next day the battle broke forth with renewed fury. The batteries on both sides did their utmost to silence each other, while the great plain in front of Liao-Yang, many miles in extent, was filled with the armies of the Czar and the Mikado, fighting with a desperation and valor that could not be excelled. At first the fighting of the infantry was at a distance, but soon the armies drew closer and closer to each other, and then came the shock of steel against steel, while the batteries poured in their awful fire from all sides. It was perfect inferno, and before night fell the plain was strewn with thousands upon thousands of dead and wounded.

“This cannot be kept up—it is beyond human endurance,” said more than one soldier and officer that night, when trying to catch a little rest. But at dawn the contest was renewed, and tired as they were the soldiers upon both sides went at it as bravely as before. But the Russians could not hold their defenses, and alarmed by the movement to cut him off from a possible retreat northward, General Kuropatkin fell back, and the next day ordered his army to evacuate Liao-Yang.