Nor were the samurai late in coming, for discipline had been their life's teaching and they knew no such thing as failure. They lined up, the left and right divisions in double rank on either side of the roadway, their front resting on the inner gate and their rear stretching through the outer gate afar into the city beyond. The soft, light uniforms of the swordsmen wound round their waists and fell on one side well down toward the ground. At the other side hung their black sheaths and polished hilts, while their bared arms and quick eyes told of their great skill at the business of war. The spearsmen with their brown breasts and short skirts, resting lightly upon their spear handles, lined up at the rear on either side, their spear points glistening away and beyond the reach of human eyes. These were men of muscle, and their bared limbs bespoke a wonderful endurance. All together, Tetsutaisho might be proud and Hitotsubashi enthused with the splendid army of their valorous defenders. The sun peeped out from behind a passing cloud, and its rays dazzled and reflected from a hundred thousand bright sides as the long lines broke and faced about in double file and their commander stepped forward to greet them. Bowing low to his shogun he arose and leaned forward from the battlement. He spoke in a clear, ringing voice, his words being echoed and handed on from man to man, squad to squad, and host to host to the last one in line: "Comrades and samurai: Our shogun has been assailed, and your commander's honour is at stake. Do you follow me?" The answer came thundering back: "Until death!" There was not a dissenting voice, and even Daikomitsu marvelled at their unison of purpose and offered not a breath of protest. The shogun mounted his war chair, and Tetsutaisho marched out at the head of the heart and flower of feudalistic Japan. The war god had whispered sweetly the glories of victory, and Hitotsubashi had listened. He drank of the poisoned waters, and became drunk with desire. He had again changed his mind, and Daikomitsu's counsel was of no avail; he must go, and his friends suffer the consequences of his folly. They marched out of the city and on toward the enemy, nothing of importance interrupting their progress until they had reached Fushima, not far distant from Kyoto. Here the gates were closed against them, and Tetsutaisho met face to face his older rival, Shibusawa. CHAPTER XXXVI BATTLE OF FUSHIMA Shibusawa, the young daimyo, was there with a goodly share of the forces of Kanazawa intrenched behind formidable walls, and the voice of the cannon warned Tetsutaisho of the former's determination to stand, even at the cost of defeat.