feint of a mock attack
was aimed at Antung--and the enemy rose to the bait. One week in advance
the command was given that at daybreak on the first of May the attack
should develop. At many points, shifting currents had altered the
channel and wiped out former possible fords. Pontoons and bridges had to
be built on the spot--anchors even must be forged from scrap-iron--yet
at the precise moment designated in the orders, the Mikado's forces
struck their blow. But wait just a moment, Tom."

General Prince opened a drawer and took out a magazine.

"Let me read you what one correspondent writes: 'At ten-thirty on the
morning of April thirtieth, the duel of the opposing heights began, with
roaring skies and smoking hills. The slopes north of Chinlien-Cheng were
generously timbered that morning. Night found them shrapnel-torn and
naked of verdure.

"'To visualize the field, one must picture a tawny river, island-dotted
and sweeping through a broken country which lifts gradually to the
Manchurian ridges. Behind Tiger Hill and Conical Hill, quiet and chill
in the morning mists, lay the Czar's Third Army.

"'Then were the judgments loosened.' The attack is on now, and the thin
brown lines are moving forward--slowly at first, as they approach the
shallows of the river beyond the bridges and the islands. Those wreaths
of smoke are Zassolich's welcome--from studiously emplaced pieces
raking the challengers--but the challengers are closing their gaps and
gaining momentum--carrying their wounded with them, as they wade
forward. There are those, of course, whom it is impossible to
assist--those who stumble in the shallow water to be snuffed out,
candle-fashion.'"

The General paused to readjust his glasses, and Colonel Wallifarro mused
with eyes fixed on the violet spirals of smoke twisting up from his
cigar end. "Our friend would seem to be playing a man's game, after his
long hermitage."

Prince took up the magazine again.

"'The farther shore is reached under a withering fire. Annihilation
threatens the yellow men--they waver--then comes the order to charge.
For an instant the brown lines shiver and hang hesitant under the sting
of the death-hail--but after that moment they leap forward and sweep
upward. Their momentum gathers to an irresistible onrush, and under it
the defence breaks down. The noises that have raved from earth to
heaven, from horizon to horizon, are dropping from crescendo to
diminuendo. The field pieces