The steep hill occupied by the enemy rose in front of us almost perpendicularly. Our first line was incessantly exchanging fire with the Russians. As the fighting became harder and harder, the number of the wounded increased in proportion; they were carried to the rear in quick succession. Bloodstained men on stretchers, wounded soldiers walking with difficulty, supporting themselves on rifles—the sight of these unfortunate ones made us fresh men the more eager to avenge them. The struggle became still fiercer. Our artillery tried hard to silence the enemy’s guns; our infantry were clambering up the steep height one after the other—they would stop and shoot, then climb a little and stop again. The whole sky was covered with gray clouds—white and black smoke rose in volumes; shells fell on the ground like a hail-storm. After a short time, our superior artillery effectively silenced three or four of the enemy’s guns. Our infantry came quite close to the enemy, when two mines exploded before them. Our men were enveloped in black smoke and clouds of dust—we feared great damage was done. Strange to tell, however, not one of our men had fallen when the smoke-cloud cleared away. The enemy had wasted a large quantity of precious powder with the mere result of raising a dust! The Russians tried to hinder our pressing on, not only by these exploding mines, but also by repeated volleys from the mountain-top. This latter scheme was carried out so incessantly that we could hardly turn our faces toward the enemy or raise our heads comfortably. On and on, however, we marched without fear or hesitancy. A small company of men at the head of the line would clamber up the rocks and precipices, ready for annihilation; encouraged by their example, larger forces would break in upon the enemy like a flood. Stepping on mine-openings and braving rifle and cannon fire coming from front and side, the extreme danger and difficulty of their attack was beyond description. The enemy resisted desperately; this Heaven-protected steep Kenzan was too important for them to give up. Suddenly a tremendous shout arose throughout our whole line; all the officers, with drawn swords and bloodshot eyes, rushed into the enemy’s forts, shouting and yelling and encouraging their men to follow. A hell-like struggle ensued, in which bayonet clashed against bayonet, fierce shooting was answered by fierce shooting, shouts and yells were mingled with the groans of the wounded and dying. The battle soon became ours, for, in spite of their desperate resistance, the enemy took to their heels, leaving behind them many mementos of their defeat. Banzai was shouted two or three times; joy and congratulation resounded on the heights of Kenzan, which was now virtually ours. The Flag of the Rising Sun was hoisted high at the top of the hill. This stronghold once in our hands, shall we ever give it back to the enemy? [Illustration: Japanese kanji Ch. XII.] COUNTER-ATTACKS ON KENZAN