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158 THE SIEGE OF PORT ARTHUR
exciting to watch this part of the advance, as man
after man started out on this short race where the
stakes were life and death. It kept us breathless,
spell-bound—with something of the old-time lust
of blood, which we thought ages of civilization had
obliterated, stirring somewhere down in the deep
abysses of our souls ;
something akin to the feel-
ings with which the Romans watched a gladiator
fight in the arena. As the men dashed across
the open space, bullets flew thick about their ears,
and we could see small puffs of dust spring up
where the bullets struck the ground all around
them.
The first three men reached their goal safely.
The fourth, an officer, brandishing his sword
they always will brandish their swords, these
fellows —set out, not in a straight line like his
predecessors, but running zigzag-wise, probably
to make the aim more difficult to the Russians ;
but this proved fatal ;
it made his stay in the
perilous zone so many seconds longer. He was
struck by a bullet, and, if not killed on the spot,
he certainly was a dead man a few moments later ;
for Russian bullets were flying thick about the
place where he fell, until there could be no doubt
about his fate. But the race, of course, went on
unheedingly, and though several men shared the
lot of the officer, the percentage who lost their
stake in the race was comparatively small, and the
force assembling in the ravine rapidly grew in
numbers until at least two companies were drawn
up there.
By about 6.30 in the afternoon the whole attack-
ing force was across the danger zone and safely
drawn up in the ravines, but no assault was
attempted until long after dark. Down behind
these bulky, massive hills no searchlight could
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