CHAPTER XIII
THE LANDING AT TONGKU
"Stummer has knocked his man out! My, but that was a dandy blow!"
"The Dutchman ought to go into the prize ring. He would make his fortune at it."
"He has finished his first man. Now let the second come on, if he dares."
So the cries continued; for there is nothing that so delights the heart of a sailor or a soldier as a "scrap," either on land or at sea. Among sailors especially, boxing is a constant pastime; and the "best man" is always considered something of a leader.
The crowd looked to Nuggy Polk to continue the fight; but that young man had no desire to do so, for he could plainly see that his chum had suffered heavy punishment.
"You have killed him!" he said in a shaking voice. "Somebody run for a doctor."
"Oh, he'll come around all right," put in one of the sailors. "Carl rapped him a bit hard, that's all. So you ain't up against it, are you?" he added dryly.
"He's afraid," came from a voice in the rear of the crowd. "He's one of the sports that fights with his mouth only."
At this instant the crowd was compelled to part, as the lieutenant-colonel of the regiment pushed his way to the front. His quick eye turned from Nickerson to Carl, and he faced the German soldier sternly.
"What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"He called me a Dutch idiot, und he vos hit me here," answered Carl, as he saluted, and then pointed to his breast.
"It's not so," interposed Nuggy. "He started a quarrel, and he has nearly killed my friend."
"He vos hit me first," insisted Carl.
"It's false. He knocked Mr. Nickerson down before he said a word."
"I vos slip on der steps, und I rolled into him," explained Carl. "Den he calls me names, und hits me so hard as he can. Of he vos act like a chentlemans, I vos abologise for rollin' into him. But he calls me an idiot und a klown, und I vos no stand dot from anypody." And the German soldier shook his head determinedly.
"That's the truth of it," came from a corporal standing near. "I saw and overheard the whole transaction, colonel."
By this time Jerry was coming to his senses. He blinked his eyes, and, sitting up, stared around him.
"Keep off!" he muttered. "Don't hit me again!"
"You're all right now," said the lieutenant-colonel. "I am sorry to see you having a row with one of our men, though."
"He started the row," answered Nickerson, bound to save himself from trouble, if possible.
"It isn't so," came from several in the crowd. "He struck the first blow, just as Stummer says."
"But he knocked me down first, and he did it on purpose."
"Dot ain't so. I vos coming der stairs town, ven I slip, because der poat vos so unsteady," explained Carl; and then he went into the details of the encounter from start to finish. Several times Jerry Nickerson tried to interrupt him, but the lieutenant-colonel would not allow it. Carl's story was corroborated by several others besides the corporal who had first spoken up.
"It seems you are to blame," said the lieutenant-colonel, after listening to Nickerson's lame recital. "In the future I think you had better leave our soldiers alone. And now I want this crowd to disperse," he concluded, with a wave of his hand.
The soldiers sauntered off, alone and in pairs; and Carl went with them. Nickerson said nothing more, but his black looks bode the German regular no good.
"He'll down ye if he can," said Dan Casey to Carl, on hearing of the affair. "Ye want to be afther watchin' him as a hen turkey watches a hawk."
"I vos keep mine eye skvare on him," answered Carl.
But this was hardly necessary, at least for the next few days; for, as the storm increased, both Nickerson and Nuggy Polk became violently seasick, and had to keep to their state-room, both moaning and groaning in a fashion that was truly pitiable. Nickerson laid his sickness to the violent handling received from Stummer, but Nuggy had no such excuse.
The sight that greeted our soldiers when the transport dropped anchor off Taku was truly an inspiring one. At Nagasaki they had seen many vessels of various nationalities; but never before had they witnessed such a collection of noble-looking warships, each cleared for action and each flying the flag of the nation to which it belonged as well as its own naval ensign. Here were armored cruisers, battleships, ironclads, torpedo boats, and despatch steamers innumerable; while still closer to the various landings lay transports, coal, and supply vessels, all busy loading or unloading, and many teeming with soldiers.
"What a collection!" said Gilbert, as he and Captain Banner surveyed the scene through a fieldglass. "Just look at those Japanese soldiers. I don't believe one of them is over five feet six inches in height."
"No, but I understand they make good fighters," answered the captain. "The Frenchmen, unloading next to them, are not much larger."
"There are some soldiers we have never seen before," put in Major Morris, who was also at the rail. "They are Sikhs from India, and belong to the British contingent. How strong and sturdy they look!"
"There go a lot of camels," went on Gilbert. "I suppose the East Indians use those instead of horses."
"Yes; and the Russians use them, too," answered the major. "Yonder, back of the dock, is a long string of oxen with carts. I guess anything goes here, in the way of transportation. The main thing is to get there, and as soon as possible."
The transport was heading slowly for land, and, as the ship drew closer, those on board could make out the outer forts of Taku,—those forts which had been captured at the beginning of the trouble with China. Gilbert had expected to see modern enclosures of heavy stone. He was much disappointed to behold nothing but long, low-lying banks of earth, with here and there an opening, the banks lying on either side of the sluggish Pei-Ho, which looked as muddy and uninviting as any stream he had ever seen. On all the sun blazed down with the fury of a fiery furnace.
Suddenly Gilbert felt his arm grasped by Captain Banner. "No picnic this, lieutenant," came in a low voice. "We're going to be thrown in among all sorts; and we've got to take what comes, and say nothing."
"What gets me is, how is an international army to be commanded, when we can't understand some of the foreigners' talk and they can't understand ours?"
"That's a problem for our superiors to solve. At the start, I guess each nationality will have to move on its own hook. We are here to rescue the Americans who are in danger in Pekin and elsewhere, and that is what we must fight for until further orders from headquarters."
It was not until early the next morning that Gilbert's company went ashore, at Tongku, the majority of the regiment landing at Taku. Some supplies were arriving from Shanghai; and part of these were placed in care of Captain Banner's command, while the rest went on board of the Monocacy, then lying at the Tongku dock.
"She's an old boat," said Captain Banner, referring to the Monocacy. "Her guns date back to 1865, and I understand that she has been laid up in Chinese waters for over fifteen years. Dewey wouldn't take her to Manila when he sailed to wipe out the Spanish fleet. But one of her men told me that she makes a first-class hospital and relief ship."
There was not much to do, excepting to watch where the supplies were placed and to keep tab on them, so that some Italian soldiers in the vicinity would not walk away with the things; and Gilbert took it easy under a big shed built of logs and split bamboo. Presently, much to his astonishment, a Chinaman appeared, wearing the uniform of a British soldier.
"Please you slay where him Cap'n Wilbur land," said the Chinaman, after saluting in true military fashion.
"What's that?" asked Gilbert, who found it hard to understand the Celestial.
"Me lookee for him, Cap'n Wilbur,—Englees officer. You know where him land?"
"The English are landing something down the stream a bit. You may find him there."
"Thlankee, lieutenant." And the Chinaman saluted again.
"Hold on!" cried Gilbert, curiously. "Are you a British soldier?"
"Yees, lieutenant. Me 'list at Wei-Hai-Wei. Many Chinamen 'list lare. Me Chlistian solyer."
"And you are ready to fight your own countrymen?"
"Certee, lieutenant. Da no Chlistians—me Chlistian—me fight alle samee, rescue Chlistians at legations in Pekin." And with a merry nod the Chinaman bobbed away. Gilbert could not help but gaze at him in wonder.
"I don't believe he'll fight his own people, Christian or no Christian," he mused. But for once the young lieutenant was mistaken. When it came to the test, the Chinese troops marching under the Union Jack fought as well as any Celestials in the war.
When leaving the transport, Gilbert had lost sight of Nuggy Polk and Jerry Nickerson; and he felt that it might be many a day before he would again encounter the pair.
"Perhaps we shall never meet again," he thought. "I've got a hard campaign before me; and who knows but that I may lay down my life in the struggle? Somebody is bound to die, and this trip it may be my turn."
From the soldiers who were coming and going Gilbert learned that fighting in and around Tien-Tsin was of daily occurrence. "The Chinks are not beaten yet," said one old marine. "We hold Taku, Tongku, a part of Tien-Tsin, and about fifteen miles of this Tongku-Pekin railway; and that is all we do hold."
"Is the railroad to Pekin in order still?"
"Bless you! no, lieutenant. The Boxers tore up the rails long ago, and threw them into the river. And, worse than that, I've been told that they have cut up the roads, too, so that, if we march on Pekin, we'll do lots of travelling through ditches filled with water and mud."