“They are brave men,” added Kimura, who had bound his leg and was whisking the flies from the mouth of Nakamura. “Yesterday, when we stormed the hill, the Russians made a counter attack. They were led by a young officer who fought like a lion for his whelps. He fell, pierced by many wounds, and was about to hand his sword to Lieutenant Katsura, but our officer motioned to him to put back the weapon and said: ‘No, I cannot take from a Samurai his soul.’ The Russian understood. He was of the Samurai.” “Let us beckon to them to come over,” suggested Tanaka. “They will then know that we have no evil design.” The signal was given, and the eight bearded men came without hesitation. Gravely saluting, they seated themselves on the ground by the side of their friends--the enemy. Of one another’s language they understood not a word. But speech is a habit, and is not to be suppressed merely because it is useless. The men talked, and their voices grew louder and louder, as voices are apt to do when they produce no impression. When your words are simple and clear it is hard to distinguish between ignorance and deafness. After a time the visitors fell back upon signs, but to the Japanese signs are as unintelligible as Sanscrit. Then they began to examine one another’s wounds, and shook their heads over the prostrate body of Nakamura, whose breath came in sharp gasps through bubbles of foam. Kimura put his hand into the pocket of his tunic and drew forth a book. It was a manual of conversation in Russian and Japanese--a collection of formal phrases and stilted sentences, such as no sane lips would ever frame. Yet they served, for presently Kimura and one of the Russians were busily turning over the pages and putting their fingers on words that seemed to embody the wisdom of the ages and the needs of the moment. Before night came these men were comrades, sharing their black bread and rice. Sympathy gave them understanding, and though they spoke in unknown tongues it was established beyond doubt how many had left wives and children to pray for them in distant homes. Tanaka, with much labour and many searches through the manual, asked one of them if he was not glad to be wounded, seeing that he might return to his family and escape the perils of war. But Sato reproached him for suggesting that their Russian comrade was wanting in patriotism and would shelter himself behind a wound.