Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese WarStrang, Herbert
General
Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War
Strang, Herbert
Russo-Japanese War, 1904-1905 -- Juvenile fiction
Like almost all Korean towns, Wiju stands on a hill; on one side it
overlooks a plain, on the other the river Yalu. Bob was glad enough
when, entering its walls and passing up the long straggling street,
filled with Russian soldiers, he was halted and dismounted at a house
over which a flag was flying. He was prepared by this time for the
worst. Several times on the way explanations on his account had passed
between his escort and enquiring soldiers, and he inferred from their
smiles and gestures that he must look for short shrift. He expected now
to be placed on trial as a spy, or perhaps summarily disposed of without
trial, probably after another attempt to extort information from him.
But after an hour’s detention in the house, during which he was given a
scanty allowance of food, he saw the Manchu Chang-Wo enter and deliver a
message to the officer in charge. He was immediately ordered out and
made to remount; his weary journey was evidently not yet ended. His
Cossack escort grunted their displeasure, and scowled at him with dark
looks, while the Manchu, who again accompanied them, urged them to
hasten their pace and complete their unwelcome task.
They rode smartly down the hill. Presently Bob saw in the dark the
waters of what was no doubt the Yalu before him, banked by rugged bluffs
on the other side. This, then, was the famous boundary river dividing
Korea from Manchuria. On the Korean side the channel was still frozen
over; but the current was deeper and swifter under the Manchurian bank,
where it was hemmed in by a large island occupying a considerable part
of what must be in time of flood the bed of the river. In this part of
the river large blocks of ice were floating down with the stream. Bob
had forborne to put any questions to the Manchu; he would have liked to
ask now what was to be done with him, but on second thoughts he decided
still to hold his tongue. But in the course of the long wearisome ride
he distinguished the name Sassulitch more than once in a grumbling
conversation between his escort and the Manchu, though he was not then
aware that the owner of the name was a general of division.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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