There was no time to investigate. Already the head of the column was in sight, and General Nogi and his Staff had taken their places to witness the march of the victorious army. For nearly two hours there passed before us a procession of sturdy men in long khaki coats, with bayoneted rifles over their shoulders. A German drill sergeant would have wrung his hands in despair. Even General Nogi was driven to use language that sounded expressive to foreign ears. Truth compels me to state that the Japanese look not well on parade. They are for use, not for show. Yet the sternest of martinets could not have withheld his admiration. They were soldiers every inch of them, and have proved it on many a bloody field. If they stepped high, if their faces flushed, if a proud and disdainful look came into their eyes as they glanced toward their great leader--who will find fault with their alignment and the regulated order of their march? I have seen the soldiers of many nations, yet none have impressed me more than these men who are worst of all on parade. And the flags--the regimental flags. There was a romance of war hidden in the folds of every one of them that swept proudly past before uncovered heads. Some looked as if they had just been broken to the breeze; others were mere rags clinging to bare poles. I would that I could tell you the story of each scar--how many brave men died in defending them, and how again and again they were snatched from dead hands to flout defiance in the face of the enemy. [Illustration: General Nogi enters Port Arthur.] [Illustration: Breech of Japanese Siege Gun, Port Arthur.]