The sounds that reached us were few. Twice a day the bronze bell of the temple summoned us to share our meals with the flies in the squalid courtyard. Now and again the stillness of the night was broken by a rifle shot, and you dreamed of Cossacks and Chinese bandits until you woke to remembrance of the sentries posted on the edge of the wood, along the hill tops, and at the bridge which leads Northward to Liao-yang and Mukden. Or it might be that when you were seated round the camp fire watching the pine branches change into livid tongues of flame, and the pine cones grow into crimson chrysanthemum there came through the darkness a strange and startling melody. At first a faint murmur like the rustling of leaves in the forest, it grew louder and stronger till you heard the deep roar of an army on the march, mingling with the shock of arms and the shout of battle. The Japanese soldiers were singing their war song. Now, since the olden days when men held that the two things worth doing in this world were fighting and love making, poetry has busied itself with war. Our fathers fought and sang of fighting, both in admirable fashion, and many of our songs are instinct with the joy of battle. What poetry stirs the blood like Drayton’s “Agincourt” with the dash and rush of its metre like the charge of a light brigade, or “The battle of the Baltic” with the concerted music of its rolling rhythm, or that lofty, insolent, passionate song of Sir Francis Doyle, “Red Thread of Honour?” The true test of a war song is the power of exciting the combative spirit and judged by that standard, the songs of the Japanese are worthy of a place in the anthology of war. The sentiments, I confess, seem to me political rather than martial--more suited to a leading article than to the battle field. The words in the literal translation have none of the real _Berserkgang_ for which we look in battle poems, and I am driven to the belief that, like the _Marseillaise_, the favourite song of the Japanese owes its power to stir the blood to the remarkable way in which it marries itself to a magnificent tune. General Sir Ian Hamilton has made skilful use of the material in the following rendering, which he was good enough to make at my request:-- Sons of Nippon, down with Russia! Lawless Empire--lay her low Faith and Justice she despises, Russia is our mortal foe. Even kindred foreign nations Hate and scorn the Russian brood: Like a wild insatiate wolf-pack Ravening, they seek their food. Fair Manchuria’s triple province Scarce devoured, ere the band Lick their blood-stained lips and fasten On Korea--hapless land Who, unblushing, urged “for peace sake Render back the Liao-Tung?” Scarce had ink dried on the parchment Than another song was sung. Shameless trampling down the treaty, Grasping countries far and wide, All the world turned against her For her lawlessness and pride.