But
soothing as it was, the battle lacked what is called the human
interest. There may have been men behind the guns, but as they were
also behind Camel Hill and Saddle Mountain, eight miles away, our
eyes, like those of Mr. Samuel Weller, "being only eyes," were not
able to discover them.
Our teachers, the three Japanese officers who were detailed to tell
us about things we were not allowed to see, gazed at the scene of
carnage with well-simulated horror. Their expressions of countenance
showed that should any one move the battle eight miles nearer, they
were prepared to sell their lives dearly. When they found that none
of us were looking at them or their battle, they were hurt. The
reason no one was looking at them was because most of us had gone to
sleep. The rest, with a bitter experience of Japanese promises, had
doubted there would be a battle, and had prepared themselves with
newspapers. And so, while eight miles away the preliminary battle to
Liao-Yang was making history, we were lying on the grass reading two
months' old news of the St. Louis Convention.
The sight greatly disturbed our teachers.
"You complain," they said, "because you are not allowed to see
anything, and now, when we show you a battle, you will not look."
Lewis, of the Herald, eagerly seized his glasses and followed the
track of the Siberian railway as it disappeared into the pass.
