Chapter XVI Fire Panic
Sentry-go—Beneath the Wall—An Old Friend—Thirst—A Way Out—Three Shots—The Signal—The Reply—A Countryside in Flames—At Full Gallop—Alarms—Stampede—Chow-chow
At the most, the distance Jack had to traverse was but a short mile, yet so slow was his progress that nearly two hours had elapsed before, from the vantage-ground of a hillock a few feet above the surrounding fields, he caught a dim glimpse in the starlight of the farm buildings looming a short distance in front of him. His intent ears had already caught the measured tread of a sentry just ahead; stealing along for another few yards he could now see his head and shoulders and the end of a carbine projecting above the high grass. Jack stopped and watched. The sentry’s beat seemed to be about thirty yards; to his right Jack could hear the hum of several low voices, no doubt from a picket. He had taken the precaution of approaching the farm at the point farthest from the main gate. The Chunchuses, if they made a sally, would not leave their horses behind, for on foot they would be at the mercy of their enemy. Since they could not leap their steeds over the wall, they were bound to issue from the gate if at all; the exit, therefore, was sure to be closely guarded, though no doubt there were sentries all round the farm.
To the left of the sentry Jack had first seen there was another, whose beat met that of his comrade. Jack could barely discern him in the darkness, but he fancied that the man, on reaching the nearer end of his beat, awaited the arrival of the other before turning. That would evidently be the best point at which to attempt the passage to the farm; and the best time would be a second or two after they had turned their backs upon one another, when any slight noise Jack might make would almost certainly be attributed by each man to his comrade. Jack went down on hands and knees and crawled very slowly to within a few paces of the meeting-place. Then he lay still, hoping that he had not miscalculated and that there was no danger beyond. He listened intently; on both sides he heard the men approaching; to the left the sound was fainter; the beats were evidently of unequal length. One man came to a halt; in a few seconds he was joined by the other; they exchanged a remark in a low tone, then separated and tramped in opposite directions. Instantly Jack glided across their trail, and, still on hands and knees, crept towards the farm, which he distinguished as a blacker patch against the sky perhaps a hundred yards away.
He soon found that between him and the wall lay a stretch of almost bare ground, no doubt made by the traffic around the farm. How was he to cross this? He might be seen by both Cossacks and Chunchuses, and if seen he would be the target for perhaps scores of rifles.
All was still within the farm; from the distance came faint sounds—voices from the Russian camp; behind he heard the tramp of sentries. Flat on the ground, already cold with the autumn night frost, he eagerly scanned the prospect for some cover by favour of which he could creep across to the wall. His heart gave a jump as he noticed, a few feet to his right, what appeared to be a ditch running from the wall across the bare patch and into the fields. Crawling noiselessly to it, he found that it was a shallow cutting, intended, as he judged by the smell, to carry off the drainage from the courtyard. There was no help for it; he sidled into the channel, luckily dry, and wormed his way along it until he came to within a few feet of the wall. As he expected, the drain passed through a hole in the wall, sufficiently deep for a man to crawl through.
But the wall gave him pause. He dared not creep through; he would be taken for an enemy and shot. He must seek a means of communicating with the garrison without drawing their fire. He crawled to the hole, hesitated for a moment, then, making a bell of his hands, sent through the shallow tunnel a low hiss, loud enough to awaken attention; soft enough, he hoped, not to create alarm. Breathlessly he waited; there was no response. Again he hissed; this time somewhat louder. There was a quick footstep within; then silence. A third time; he heard a foot strike against the wall, and next moment became conscious that someone was looking down at him over the wall. He lifted his head.
“I am a friend,” he said in deliberate clear-cut Chinese. “I have news for your captain.”
The man uttered an exclamation under his breath; then bade him remain perfectly still or he would shoot him. In a low tone he summoned a comrade and sent him for the commander. Jack heard a little bustle within, not loud enough to catch the attention of the sentries. A few minutes later a second voice spoke from the top of the wall.
“Come through.”
Jack wriggled through the narrow opening. Only his head projected within the wall when he was told to stop.
“Who are you?”
“Mr. Wang, is that you?”
“Ch’hoy! It is Mr. Chack Blown. Rise, sir!”
All bemired and dishevelled, Jack sprang to his feet. The Chinaman kowtowed, uttering an incoherent welcome; then led the way to the farmhouse.
“That’s the most ticklish half-hour I ever spent in my life,” said Jack, when he was seated opposite to Wang Shih on the k’ang in the living-room. “And I’m pretty hungry. I’ve had nothing but rice-cakes and monkey-nuts since morning. Have you got anything to eat?”
“Plenty, sir; it is water we are in straits for. I will get you something.”
In a few minutes a hot dish of boiled chicken and rice, with a couple of clean chop-sticks, lay before Jack. He ate the meal with keen relish, while Wang Shih at his request gave a rapid narrative of the events that had led to his present predicament. With a small force he was beating up recruits in the district when he suddenly came upon a troop of Cossacks outnumbering him by two to one. Knowing the country so well, he could easily have got away, but unluckily he was sighted by a second troop, which cut across his line of retreat so rapidly that he had only time to throw himself and his handful of men into the farm before the two hostile bands united and closed upon him. He had kept them off for three days; there was food enough to last another week, but his ammunition was running short, and, worst of all, the water supply had almost given out. His men had been put upon the smallest possible allowance, but in spite of their care and self-denial there was barely enough left to last for another twenty-four hours, and the horses were already suffering terribly. He had been hoping that Ah Lum would send a force to relieve him; but the chief was moving northward when he last saw him, and he doubted whether the man he had sent could reach him in time. In default of relief, his only course when the water failed would be to make a sortie by night; but the odds against him were so heavy that very few of his men could possibly escape.
“That is why I am here,” said Jack. “I was on my way to join Mr. Ah—the reason I will tell you presently—when I heard of your plight, in the village yonder. I came to see for myself how you were placed; your danger had not been exaggerated; and I was on the point of going off in despair when I had a sudden idea; it was suggested by something I saw in the enemy’s camp. I think there is a bare chance of escape if you will act on my plan.”
There was a look of mingled eagerness and anxiety on Wang Shih’s face as he begged Jack to tell him what he had in mind.
“I am not alone,” continued Jack. “I came up with a guide given me by Mr. Ah’s agent Me Hong in Moukden, and Hi Lo, our compradore’s son, you remember. They are waiting on the hill less than a mile away. When I was looking out over the country I saw the Russians light fires for cooking their supper, and at first wondered why their kitchen was so far away from the farm. But I saw the reason. As you know, there’s a strong north-easter blowing; the smoke from their fires floated this way, towards the farm. They had been prudent in selecting a spot away from the fields, for a spark in the long grass might start a blaze, and, spreading through the kowliang, it would destroy their cover and make them easy targets for your marksmen. What would happen if the grass chanced to burn in the night, eh?”
The Chinaman’s expression changed; his chest heaved.
“We have tried to fire the grass more than once, but they always stamped it out. Go on, sir,” he said.
“Well, you see, if a match were put to the grass to windward of the farm, in several places, and if the wind held, the flames would sweep upon the Russians in a very few minutes. Their horses would stampede; the men would be so startled that probably they would be quite unable to think of anything but their own safety; and while they were scattered and disorganized, you could sally out of the gate and get so good a start that, even if they caught their horses, you would be out of harm’s way before they could pursue.”
“But the flames would set fire to the farm. We should be burnt alive; our horses would be frightened too, and we could never get them to face the fire and smoke.”
“I had thought of that. The thatch will probably catch fire; but the open space outside the wall will prevent the flames from actually touching the wall, and that will serve as a partial protection. Then you can blindfold the horses so that they don’t see the glare; they’ll have to risk suffocation by the smoke, but the men can avoid that by lying flat on their faces and holding wet rags to their mouths. If I’m right, the crops will burn very quickly and not smoulder; you must, of course, wait until the fire has swept by the farm; but then dash out without losing a minute. I think you can rely on the Russians getting a terrible fright, and that will be your opportunity.”
“But how is the fire to be lighted at the right place, and how are we to know when it will be done?”
“I left instructions with my guide. If he hears three rifle-shots in succession at noon to-morrow he is to creep down with Hi Lo at dusk and choose two spots about half a mile apart, just beyond where the Cossacks’ horses are picketed. They will set fire to the grass where it is thickest, then run towards each other and fire it in two other places, and make their way as rapidly as possible back to the copse where our ponies are. The only risk is that they may be discovered before they can complete their work; but it’s to their own interest to be careful, and I think I can trust Hi Lo, at any rate, to outwit any Russian.”
Wang Shih was convinced. Greatly impressed by the care with which Jack had thought out the details of the stratagem, he smiled and rubbed his hands together with gleeful satisfaction. Suddenly he checked these signs of pleasure; he rose from the seat, pressed his closed fists to his breast, and bent over until his brow all but touched the ground.
“I thank you, sir,” he said. “I am grateful; Mr. Ah will be grateful; you have risked your life for us, and we Chinamen never forget a benefit.”
“You saved me from death, Mr. Wang; look at it as an acknowledgment if you like. Besides, we are not out of the wood yet; the farm may be stormed to-morrow before the time for trying our little plan.”
The Chinaman scoffed; he had held the Russians off for three days, and it was not to be supposed that, with an additional motive for a stout resistance, his men would fail at the last.
“But what if the wind drops? We require the wind to make the blaze a short and merry one.”
“No, no, sir. At this time of year the wind when it sets from the north-east blows for weeks at a time——”
“Bringing snow as often as not. A snow-storm would spoil it all.”
Wang Shih’s face fell; he looked so much distressed that Jack laughed.
“I was only imagining the worst, Mr. Wang. The sky is clear and the air as dry as a bone. Barring an accident, or some very sudden and unlikely change in the weather, there will be a pretty bonfire to-morrow night.”
“Shall I tell the men to-night, sir?”
“On no account. Let them sleep. The place is carefully watched, of course?”
“Yes. Six men are on duty for two hours at a time; the watches are carefully arranged.”
“That’s all right, then. Now I’m pretty tired; this k’ang is very warm and cosy, and if you don’t mind I’ll coil myself up on it and go to sleep. Don’t wake me unless anything happens.”
Jack slept like a top till ten next morning. It was bright and clear, and he was delighted to find that the wind had increased in force. Wang Shih had been self-restrained enough to withhold the details of Jack’s plan from his men, curious as they were to learn what had brought the Englishman into their midst at such risk to himself. They had merely been told that there was a prospect of escape. At noon the three shots arranged as a signal were fired by Wang Shih himself. The Russians took no notice of them. Hidden by the kowliang they were content to wait, knowing that the water supply must ere long fail. In the afternoon the men were informed of the scheme and given their instructions. They became voluble as they discussed the plan among themselves. There is a bed-rock of stoicism in the Chinese character; these brigands were not given to a facile display of emotion; they showed little surprise, little pleasure, but talked over the approaching event almost dispassionately, as if it had been an academic problem. They prepared material for blindfolding the horses, and rags to steep in the last inch of turbid water in the tank; then the most of them settled down to beguile the remaining hours with fan-tan.
Jack could not achieve such composure of mind. He gave no outward sign of his feelings; but as the hours passed and the time drew near for the execution of his plan he began to feel restless and impatient. He was amused at himself, remembering how his father had been wont to poke fun at him for this very characteristic. “It’s only in the Arabian Nights that an acorn becomes an oak in a moment,” Mr. Brown once said. But though he could smile at himself he did not become less impatient as the day wore on. As the sun crept round towards the west, and sank over the purple hills, he looked anxiously from a secure corner of the wall towards the spot whence he expected the flames to spring. The twilight thickened; there was no sign. All at once he thought he saw an object moving down the opposite hillside. Surely the guide could not be so arrantly stupid as to approach in full view of the camp! In a few moments Jack’s anxiety was relieved, and at the same time increased, when he found that the moving object was a Cossack slowly riding towards the farm. He was a messenger, perhaps; probably his approach had delayed the execution of the scheme; Jack could only hope that this would not be frustrated entirely. The rider came nearer and nearer; he might discover the man and the boy lurking in the long grass, for he was approaching the very spot that Jack had pointed out as an excellent place for the first match to be struck. An intervening hillock now hid the Cossack from view; Jack waited; it was growing darker; would the expected flame never spring up? The minutes passed, lingeringly; all was quiet; nothing could be heard but the rustle and clash of the grass and stalks as the wind struck their tops together.
Suddenly, from a spot somewhat to the right of the place where the Cossack had disappeared, a thin spiral of smoke shot up into the indigo sky. Almost simultaneously another appeared, far to the left; in the dark they could scarcely be detected except by eyes so intently looking for them as Jack’s. They grew in volume; other spirals rose between them; fanned by the steady wind they swelled into a bank of smoke, through which Jack’s anxious gaze now discerned tongues of flame.
“Now!” he cried to Wang Shih at his elbow.
The word was given to the men; in a few seconds the horses were blindfolded; and by the time the rags were steeped a vast blaze illuminated the sky; the four fires, spreading with amazing rapidity, were sweeping towards the farm at the rate of a trotting horse. Shouts broke the stillness; amid the crackling of the flames the clatter of metal, the shrill whinnies of terrified horses, then the thunder of hoofs. From the fields men ran helter-skelter, some attempting to catch their horses, others in their confusion rushing towards the open space before the farm, careless whether the rifles of the Chunchuses marked them down. Onward came the dense volume of smoke bellying towards the farm. Jack already felt the heat; above his head red wisps of grass were streaking the sky; one fell upon the thatch, extinct; another followed, dying before it could kindle the straw; the next was larger, burned more brightly; it held; the thatch was alight.
The men were prone upon the ground, pressing wet rags to their mouths. Their horses were snorting, whinnying, straining on their halters; one had broken loose, and was madly dashing round the courtyard when Jack seized it by the broken halter and endeavoured to soothe it. The mud wall beat off the flames; but the smoke enveloped the whole farm in a dense cloud, pungent, spark-laden, becoming every moment more stifling. Jack was forced to earth; he could not breathe; still clutching the halter he crept under the lee of the wall, and there lay fighting for breath. The thatched roof was now ablaze; the fields were a mass of fire; would the smoke never pass and leave a passage for the almost suffocated men?
A red glare lit up the farmyard. The flames had devoured the thatch, and were licking the joists. Jack glanced round the scene, his eyes smarting so keenly that he could scarcely see. The horses were shivering with terror; two or three of the men, braving the smoke, were endeavouring to calm them; the rest of the Chunchuses were still flat on the ground. But to the north-east the smoke was thinning. Jack rose to his feet and looked over the wall. The fields between the farm and the river were black, with here and there a smouldering stalk. On the other side the flames were still raging; there was nothing to check their fury. The passage from the gateway was now open; the ground indeed was very hot; but it would be folly to wait for it to cool. Jack called for Wang Shih.
“Now is the time,” he said.
Wang Shih gave the word; the men sprang to their feet and vaulted into the saddle; the bar across the gate was let down; and then, tearing the bandages from their horses’ eyes, the men dashed out at a furious gallop across the still scorching soil. Jack, mounted on a spare horse, led the way towards the river, making for the bridle path which must have been followed by the Cossack just before the match was struck. For the first half-mile it was a terrible race; sparks and smoke flew up as the horses stirred the smouldering embers; the poor beasts screamed with pain as their unshod hoofs felt the heat; the men breathed stertorously, half-choked by the acrid fumes. Then, in an instant as it seemed, they passed from an inferno into the elysian fields. They had reached the limit of the burnt grass, the keen cold wind struck their faces; men and animals took deep breaths; they were free, and in the pure air again. Floundering through the fresh-ploughed field where the Russians had left their cooking-pots, they came to the river. For one moment they halted to allow men and horses to slake their thirst; then they pushed on, up the northern slope, in the direction of the place where Jack hoped to find Hi Lo and the guide.
On the crest of the slope he reined up for a moment and looked to the left. The sheet of fire was still sweeping on towards a plantation on the south-west side. It seemed that the whole country in that direction must be devastated; nothing could stop the flames but the bare rocky ridge a mile or more away. Faint shouts came from the distance; then a fitful succession of shots scarcely audible through the crackle and roar. Who could be firing? Jack was puzzled to account for the sounds until he guessed that the Cossacks in their headlong flight had flung away their loaded carbines, and that, as the fire swept over them, these were exploded by the heat.
With a glow of content at the success of his scheme, Jack hastened on after the brigands, now walking their horses towards the uplands. There was no fear of pursuit; the Russians were far too much demoralized, and their horses were gone, none knew whither. When Jack overtook the band, Wang Shih suggested that they should follow up their advantage and destroy the enemy. But from this Jack dissuaded him; there were probably other detachments of Cossacks in the neighbourhood; it was best to let well alone, and rejoin his chief as soon as possible. Ah Lum might himself be hard pressed by the encircling movement which the Russians had apparently begun. The Chunchuses therefore rode on, still at a walking pace.
The moon was rising, throwing her silvery mantle over the quiet country. Skirting a black clump of trees the riders were startled to hear the distant clatter of a large body of horses galloping towards them. Moment by moment the sound grew louder. Had another troop of the enemy learnt of what had happened and started on their tracks? Wang Shih looked anxiously around; nothing could be seen, but the sound appeared to come from beyond a stretch of rolling country to the left of their line of march. Giving a brief word of command, Wang Shih wheeled his horse towards the copse; and his band following him at a quick trot, they were soon in the cover of the leafless trees, waiting in anxious silence for the appearance of the enemy.
Nearer and nearer came the thud of hundreds of hoofs. Wang Shih ordered his men to maintain absolute silence; he hoped that the enemy, unaware of his proximity, would pass by and give him the opportunity to slip away undetected. A few minutes passed; Jack was wondering why he could not hear the rattle of sword-cases on the horses’ flanks, when on the crest of the low ridge opposite appeared the head of the column, and the earth seemed to shake as score after score of dark forms swept forward towards the path the Chunchuses had so lately left. The brigands had much ado to quiet their ponies, which were pricking their ears and snuffing with distended nostrils in restless excitement. Then, as the moonlight fell upon the advancing mass, every man in the copse heaved a sigh of relief—and something more. Their pursuers were not horsemen, but horses, every one of them riderless—clearly the stampeded horses of the enemy, rushing blindly into the night, the fire panic at their heels.
“We ought to catch them,” said Jack to Wang Shih as they thundered past.
The Chinaman smacked his lips with approval. Such a capture would be a turning of the tables indeed. But how was it to be done? One of his men, knowing in the ways of horses, proposed a plan. The principal thing was to prevent the fugitives from heading back towards the Cossacks. Let the brigands then extend on a wide front and follow; the runagates would keep together, and by and by, when their flight was past, come to a halt. Adopting the suggestion, Wang Shih led his men at a smart trot up the slope. For a long time the beat of the runaways’ hoofs could be heard in the night air—the more clearly because they were to windward. Then the sound gradually died away. Wang Shih was anxious not to outrun them in the darkness; the country was uneven, with patches of timber here and there, and the animals if they stopped in the shelter of the hills might easily be passed. But with the number of men at his command it would not be difficult to find the most of them, at any rate, with the morning light. He pushed on, therefore, until he reached the spot where Hi Lo and the guide were eagerly awaiting Jack’s arrival. There the band off-saddled, and, worn out with fatigue and excitement, the men flung themselves down on the leaf-strewn ground and sought their much-needed rest.
Jack did not fail to bestow warm praise upon the man and the boy who had so faithfully and cleverly carried out their part of the scheme. Hi Lo had been just on the point of striking his match when the Cossack messenger whom Jack had seen came riding behind him. The boy had barely time to slip into the tall kowliang, whence he had watched the unsuspecting horseman ride past.
“You did very well,” said Jack. “Your father will be pleased when I tell him.”
Hi Lo beamed with delight.
“My hab makee velly big fire; my look-see allo-piecee Lusski man belongey velly muchee ’flaid; my walkee long-side chow-chow pots; catchee plenty muchee bellyful, that-time lun wailo.”
Jack laughed, and bade the boy make a pillow of his pony’s saddle and go to sleep.
Next morning the stampeded horses were discovered peacefully cropping the grass in a narrow valley about a mile from the Chunchuses’ bivouac. They allowed themselves to be caught easily; and with the booty of nearly two hundred Transbaikal ponies in excellent condition Wang Shih pursued his march.