Just before we arrived at our rendezvous that night, our high-pressure cylinder developed a bad crack, possibly through some unsuspected flaw in the casting; and as there were no means of repairing it, except temporarily, where we were, and as in the meantime the boat was useless, I received orders to have the crack patched-up as far as possible, and then to proceed to Sasebo, to have a new cylinder fitted. This mishap involved an absence of the Kasanumi from our rendezvous for ten days; but, as events proved, it did not matter in the least; for the Admiral, doubtless for good and sufficient reasons, now permitted a period of inaction to occur, during which nothing happened beyond the usual watching of Port Arthur harbour. I availed myself of the opportunity thus afforded to have my little ship docked, scraped, and repainted; while my engineer took his engines entirely to pieces, subjected them to a thorough overhaul, and replaced a few brasses and other matters that were showing signs of wear. He also overhauled the boilers, and fitted quite a number of new tubes; so that when at length the boat left the dry dock she was in first-class condition, and ready for any service that could be reasonably asked of her.

I found awaiting me at the post office quite a nice little batch of most cheering and encouraging letters from my friends, the Gordons, to which I duly replied at considerable length, giving them—and especially Ronald—full particulars of my adventures up to date; and the receipt of their letters made me feel that while a man had such staunch friends as they had proved to be, the world was not such a bad place, after all.

We got back to our rendezvous at the Elliot Islands on the afternoon of 9th April, the little Kasanumi looking as smart and spick-and-span as a new pin, her hull, funnels, mast, guns—everything, in fact, except her deck—painted that peculiar tint of medium smoky-grey which experience had proved to render her almost invisible, even in daylight, and absolutely so at night; and the moment that our anchor was down I proceeded aboard the flagship to report myself, and also to deliver mails for the fleet and dispatches for the Admiral, which I had brought with me.

There did not seem to be very much doing at the rendezvous when I arrived, beyond the rebunkering of such craft as needed it; but I noticed a rather smart-looking steamer of about four thousand tons, fitted as a mine-layer, with lighters on both sides of her, out of which a number of very business-like-looking mines were being hoisted.

But when I got aboard the Mikasa, and was shown into the Admiral's cabin, I found the little gentleman up to his eyes in business, as usual. He dropped his work, however, when I was announced, and, rising from his chair, greeted me in the most hearty and friendly manner; then, bidding me be seated, he asked me how I had spent my time at Sasebo. He expressed the utmost satisfaction with everything that I had done; and presently, when the orderly brought in a bundle of letters and papers from the mail which I had brought, he opened the latter and, selecting from it a particular sheet—the Tokio Asahi, I believe it was—opened it, glanced eagerly at a particular column, and then, with a smile and a pointing finger, handed the sheet to me. It had been opened at the page containing naval intelligence; and glancing at it, I perceived, to my amazement and delight, that I had been gazetted to the rank of Captain, "as from 27th March, in recognition of conspicuous gallantry in connection with the second attempt to close Port Arthur harbour." The two other surviving skippers had also been similarly promoted.

I scarcely knew how to find words eloquent enough to thank Togo for his generous recognition of my services, such as they were; but he would not listen to a word of thanks, insisting that I had honestly earned the promotion, and thoroughly deserved it.

"And now," he concluded, "I am going to give you a further opportunity to distinguish yourself. I have in hand some work, the successful execution of which demands a man who can be depended upon to keep his head and his nerve under the most trying conditions, such as those which existed when you took those soundings and measurements, under, fire, the other day; indeed it was that piece of daring which caused me to select you for the work. You may perhaps have observed a steamer shipping mines—You did? Yes, I thought you would. Well, that steamer is the Koryu Maru, a very smart boat, steaming twenty-two knots, which I have had fitted as a mine-layer. The Russians have passed to and fro over our mine-field off Port Arthur, and have had full opportunity to learn that our mines are so harmless that they may be regarded as negligible, so, now, I propose to teach them a new lesson. The mines which the Koryu is shipping are not harmless; on the contrary, they are exceedingly formidable affairs, containing charges ranging from one hundred to two hundred pounds of Shimose explosive, and they are arranged to automatically adjust themselves to varying depths of water. The ship which strikes one of them will be done for! Having told you so much, you will readily understand that they are ticklish affairs to handle, particularly when it comes to laying them; hence my choice of you, Captain Swinburne, to supervise and execute the task. I shall be glad if you will go aboard, at your earliest convenience, and make yourself thoroughly acquainted with the mode of handling them, which is essentially different from that of handling the mines to which you have been accustomed."

I thanked the Admiral for this fresh manifestation of his trust in me, and took my leave, pausing only for a few minutes, on my way to the gangway, to exchange greetings with some of the officers of the ship, and reply to their congratulations upon my promotion, the news of which had already got abroad. Then I went down the side, got into my boat, and was pulled across to the Koryu, where I found the delicate operation of shipping and stowing the mines in brisk progress. I introduced myself to the officer in charge, who at once proceeded to explain to me the structure and mechanism of the class of mines being dealt with; thus enabling me to understand the danger to be guarded against while handling them; after which he conducted me to my cabin, perched high on the boat deck; and I immediately took possession, sending my boat back to the Kasanumi with a note for young Hiraoka, requesting him to take charge during my absence, and another to my steward, instructing him to send me across such things as I immediately needed. The change was greatly the better for me; for whereas my quarters aboard the Kasanumi were cramped and of Spartan simplicity, the captain's cabin of the Koryu was a spacious and almost luxurious affair, handsomely and comfortably furnished, with all the accommodation that a reasonable man could wish for.

Two days later our fleet weighed and proceeded to sea, leaving the Koryu at anchor, with our fourth and fifth destroyer flotillas and fourteenth torpedo-boat flotilla—twelve craft in all—to protect her. My orders were to proceed to sea in time to reach Port Arthur roadstead at midnight of the 12th, sow the harbour approach with mines according to a certain plan, and then retire, with the assurance that, if attacked, there would be a force of ample strength lying in wait to protect me.

One part of my duty—after laying the mines—was to endeavour to entice the Russian fleet to come out in pursuit of me. Experience had taught us that, for some reason with which we were unacquainted, the Russian ships invariably followed a certain course when leaving the harbour, while, when returning, they as invariably followed another; my instructions, therefore, were to sow my mines over the area by which the ships returned to port, while leaving free that area traversed by them when coming out; the reason of course being, that as many ships as possible should be enticed to come out, in the hope that many of them would be destroyed upon their return.

The night of the 12th was a wretched one in some respects for our purpose. The weather was thick; a strong breeze was blowing from the southward, kicking up a nasty sea; it was bitterly cold; and a thin drizzle of fine snow made the thick atmosphere still thicker; so that it was impossible to see farther than a ship's length in any direction. I foresaw, therefore, that I had a very difficult task before me, not only in getting the little torpedo-boats across in the heavy sea, but in depositing the mines in the right place after we should arrive.

To spare the torpedo-boats as much as possible while making the passage against a heavy head sea, I decided to proceed at a speed of ten knots; and we accordingly got under way at five o'clock in the evening, leaving ourselves an hour in hand to cover any delay which we might meet with. I had very carefully studied the tides and the current charts during the afternoon, taken careful note of the strength of the wind, and, taking these matters into consideration, had worked out a course that, unless some of the conditions changed, should take me to the exact spot I wished to reach, at eleven o'clock.

Punctual to the moment we started, "in line ahead," each vessel towing a fog buoy behind her to serve as a guide to the next astern, and these buoys I had at the last moment caused to be coated with luminous paint, to make them visible in the intense darkness.

All went well with us; the destroyers rode the seas like gulls, while, at the moderate speed of ten knots, the torpedo-boats were not only able to keep station perfectly but also avoided washing their crews overboard. At ten-thirty I made the prearranged signal, and my escort hove-to, leaving me to finish my journey and carry out my perilous task alone.

I knew exactly where I was—or rather, where I ought to be—for I had kept a careful reckoning of our progress from the moment of starting, and, unless something had gone wrong, we were then exactly two miles south-east of the Pinnacle Rock lighthouse. But it was necessary to make sure, otherwise I might lay my mines in the wrong place, and all my labour would be useless; I accordingly shaped a course for the lighthouse and cautiously stood in, with a leadsman stationed at each extremity of the overhanging navigating bridge. These took continuous casts of the lead and reported the result to me through my "Number 1," who stood outside my cabin and called to me through an open window, while I stood at the table, with the chart spread open before me, pricking off our position minute after minute, and comparing the leadsmen's results with those shown on the chart, the two agreeing accurately.

At length we reached a point beyond which it would be dangerous to go, and I ordered the engines to be stopped and reversed, at the same time stepping out on to the bridge, to ascertain if anything could be seen. But it was as thick as a hedge, the lighthouse lantern was unlighted, and there was not even a gleam from the searchlight on the cliffs above to enable us to verify our position. True, the roar of breakers close at hand told us we were not far from the shore; but that was all we had to guide us; there was nothing for it, therefore, but to go ahead and do the best we could.

There is no need for me to enter into a detailed and technical description of the operation of laying mines; I will therefore merely state that, despite the adverse conditions, we succeeded in accomplishing our task and withdrawing without mishap. But we were not a moment too soon, for the light of dawn was filtering through the haze as we dropped our last mine and moved cautiously away from the completed field.

The next thing was to find our escort, which we had left two miles out at sea. We were groping our way slowly seaward through the fog, keeping a sharp lookout for the destroyers, when all in a moment the mist lifted, and we sighted them about half a mile distant. And at the same instant, some four miles away to the north-east, appeared a squadron of five destroyers, which we at once identified as our second destroyer flotilla. And yet—no that could scarcely be right, for our "second" consisted of only four boats, while yonder were five—with—yes—a sixth close inshore. I turned to get my binoculars out of the case, in order to investigate a little more closely, and even as I did so the five destroyers became suddenly enveloped in a wreathing cloud of powder smoke, while the sharp, angry bark of quick-fire guns broke the morning silence. The five destroyers were unquestionably engaged in a fight among themselves. The firing continued quite briskly for about five minutes; then there pealed out a sharp, violent explosion, a great cloud of smoke shot into the air; the firing abruptly ceased; and the smoke cleared away just in time to show that one of the destroyers—the craft which we had been unable to identify—was sinking, a shattered, shapeless wreck.

At this moment a cry from my "Number 1" distracted my attention from the interesting little drama which I was eagerly watching, and, turning toward the harbour's mouth, in response to his pointing finger, I saw a big, four-funnelled, two-masted cruiser, which I instantly recognised as the Bayan, coming foaming out of harbour, evidently intent upon driving off our destroyers, which were now busily launching their boats to save the crew of the destroyer, which had by this time foundered. I was in the very act of issuing an order for one of our Hotchkisses to be fired, to warn the destroyers, when the Bayan opened fire upon them with her light guns, and they were obliged to retreat, double-quick.

Of course the Bayan was no match for them in the matter of speed, so after covering the retreat of the second destroyer, which was creeping along close inshore, and pausing to pick up the survivors of the sunken destroyer, the cruiser turned her attention—and her guns—upon us. But we were out of range of her light guns, and for some unknown reason she did not open fire upon us with her heavy weapons, we therefore quickened up to about her own speed, or a trifle less, hoping we might be able to entice her out to where we knew our own cruiser squadron was waiting to cover our retreat. Unfortunately for the success of my scheme, Admiral Dewa, who commanded the squadron, no sooner heard the firing than he put on speed and rushed to our rescue, emerging from the mist and becoming visible while still some three miles away. The instant that they were clear of the fog bank, and could see what was happening, the squadron opened fire upon the Bayan with their heavy guns, when that ship was in turn compelled to up helm and beat a hurried retreat, to my intense disgust; for I felt confident that if our cruisers had only lain doggo in the fog bank, I could have cajoled the Russian ship into following me so far out to sea that her retreat could have been cut off, and we should have nabbed her. As it was, the Diana and Novik came rushing out to her rescue; whereupon Dewa, who by this time recognised the mistake he had made, turned and retired, apparently in a panic, for great clouds of smoke were presently seen to be pouring from the funnels of all his ships. But before ten minutes were over it became perfectly evident that the Admiral was "playing foxy," for despite the clouds of smoke, his ships were barely holding their own, if indeed they were doing as much as that. Naturally, we in the Koryu at once took our cue from the Admiral, and stoked up for all we were worth, using as much small coal as we could scrape together, in order to increase the volume of smoke pouring from our funnel, while we allowed the Novik to gain upon us a trifle from time to time, and then, by an apparently desperate effort, drew away from her again. And this time it really looked as though our ruse was going to prove successful, for the three Russian cruisers continued to chase us with the utmost pertinacity and determination.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE PETROPAVLOSK LURED TO HER DOOM.

The explanation of the Russian cruisers' pertinacity was soon made plain to Admiral Dewa by a wireless message which he picked up, addressed to the captain of the Novik, which, decoded, ran thus: "Keep in touch with enemy but do not attack until I join you. Two battleships and Askold following to support you. Signed Makarov."

Of course I did not know anything about this until afterward, the Koryu not being fitted with a wireless installation; but Dewa at once made a code signal to me instructing me to continue my present tactics; and while this was being done his wireless operators were busily engaged in transmitting a code message to Admiral Togo, who was at that moment lurking, enveloped in mist, some thirty miles away, near the Miao-tao Islands, with his whole battle squadron and the new cruisers Nisshin and Kasuga.

Makarov, however, was evidently ignorant of that fact; the atmosphere in the neighbourhood of Port Arthur was now quite clear, and to the lookouts on the highest points about the fortress no Japanese ships were visible, save the cruiser squadron, which was undoubtedly in full retreat from the pursuing Russian ships, which it was perfectly evident they were afraid of. It was the moment and the opportunity for which the Russian Admiral had long been pining, the moment when a weak Japanese force, entirely unsupported, lay at his mercy, and now he would smash them!

Accordingly, he hurried aboard the Petrofiavlosk and signalled the Poltava and Askold—both of which, like the flagship, had steam up— to weigh at once and proceed to sea. This was done, with marvellous smartness, considering that the craft were Russian, and presently out they came, their funnels belching immense volumes of black smoke and the water leaping and foaming about their bows as they pounded after us at their utmost speed, which, after all, was only about fourteen knots.

Meanwhile, Dewa, who was bringing up the rear in the Asama,—by the speed of which ship the rest of the squadron regulated theirs,—was very cleverly allowing the Russians to slowly overtake him, while the Russians were straining every nerve to do so, stoking up furiously and wasting their coal in the most reckless manner.

Then came an order from the Admiral to me to increase speed and pass ahead of the squadron, out of harm's way, as he was about to open fire upon the Russians. Of course there was nothing for it but to obey, which I did forthwith; but when I had got about a mile ahead, I gradually slowed down again; if there was any fun toward, I was not going to miss it. Besides, it was just possible that I might be of use, for, following the Russian battleships and cruisers, there was now coming up, hand over hand, a crowd of destroyers, against which the Koryu's Hotchkisses might be brought into play.

Admiral Dewa only allowed me just bare time to get ahead of his squadron, when he made the signal to open fire upon the pursuers with our cruisers' 8-inch turret guns; and the signal, which had been awaited with the utmost impatience, was promptly responded to with a steady and deadly deliberate fire upon the Bayan, which was leading the Russian line. Before her officers had time to realise what was happening, shells were hurtling all about her and raining against her bows and upon her deck, punishing her so severely that they had to stop her engines and allow the rest of the fleet to pass ahead. The Russian fleet, which had thus far been coming on in line ahead, now hurriedly formed line abreast, the two battleships opening fire upon our cruisers with their 12-inch guns. Luckily for us, although the water was smooth the Russian aim was bad, and their shells flew over and on either side of us, but none hit us. Then Dewa, who was far too good a tactician to pit his cruisers against battleships, gave the order to increase speed, and we ran out of range, undamaged.

But only just out of range; for we wanted to draw the Russian ships so far away from Port Arthur that Admiral Togo might have a chance to come up, slip in between them and the fortress, cut off their retreat, and force them to fight. And without a doubt we should have been successful, had not the capricious weather played us a scurvy trick at a critical moment when the Russians were some eighteen miles off the land in a south-easterly direction from Port Arthur. For it was at this moment that the fog, which had hitherto hidden Togo's approaching fleet, suddenly cleared, revealing to the Russian lookouts on the Liau-ti-shan heights, the Japanese warships, racing up from the south-west.

The approach of the Japanese was instantly frantically signalled to the wireless station, which in turn wirelessed the alarming intelligence to the Russian Admiral. A few moments' study of the chart revealed to Makarov the precariousness of his situation. If he turned and retreated at once, he might possibly escape by the skin of his teeth and get back into harbour before Togo's ships could get up to cut him off, and he did not hesitate a moment. Up went the signal to retire, over went the Russians' helms, and away they scuttled back toward their lair, even faster than they came out, while our cruisers, keenly on the watch for some such movement, also wheeled sharply in pursuit, keeping up a steady fire upon the Bayan and the Novik, the rearmost ships in the Russian line. Naturally, the Koryu turned when our cruisers did, following them up at full speed until we were close in their rear, while Dewa was far too busy attending to the pursuit to spare any attention to me and my doings.

It was at this juncture that the Russian destroyers made a gallant effort to check our pursuit by distracting our attention from their big craft to themselves. Believing that they held an important advantage over us in point of speed, they boldly slowed down, dropped astern, and, in two divisions, made a determined demonstration on our two flanks, repeatedly threatening to make a dash, close in, and use the torpedo.

There was one exceptionally audacious craft, the pertinacity of which caused me to take particular notice of her, and keep a specially watchful eye upon her, because I speedily came to the conclusion that she was doing more than merely demonstrate, she was bent upon mischief. She was making a dead set at the Asama, our most valuable ship, getting right to windward of her, and pouring dense volumes of black smoke from her four funnels, so forming a screen for herself, under cover of which she was evidently trying to edge in to within effective torpedo range. Of course the Asama and one or two of the other cruisers opened fire upon her with their light guns, but we, who had crept up to windward, saw that the smoke screen was serving its purpose admirably, and that although the projectiles were falling all round her, she was not being hit. It occurred to me that now was the time when we in the Koryu might be able to render a little useful service, our own destroyers having been unfortunately ordered to return to their rendezvous, some time before, and were now out of sight. Accordingly I gave orders for the gunners to stand by their Hotchkisses, and rang for full speed, also calling down to the engineer for the very last ounce of steam he could get out of his boilers.

Like an arrow shot from a bow, the Koryu started forward and, edging well out to windward of the destroyer, opened a brisk fire upon her with our Hotchkisses, aiming at her deck tubes, round which I had seen some men busily clustering. And it was well that I did so, for the Russians were in the very act of launching a torpedo at the moment; indeed they actually did launch it, but by one of those extraordinary flukes that sometimes happen, and are so difficult to describe convincingly, one of our shots struck the weapon at the instant that it issued from the tube, wrecking its propeller and rudder and sending it to the bottom.

Evidently the destroyer's crew had been so completely absorbed in their attempt upon the Asama that they had been oblivious to our approach; but now, seeing us bearing menacingly down upon her, her skipper suddenly shifted his helm and would fain have beaten a retreat. As it happened, however, we had by this time drawn up abreast and were between him and his friends, so he evidently came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to fight his way out; accordingly he made a dash to cut out across our bows, at the same time turning his whole battery of guns upon us. I instantly ordered my men to leave their guns and get away aft, out of the way of the shot, dismissing the quartermaster also, and taking the wheel in his stead.

At such short range, his shots could not possibly miss, and in less than a minute our bows and fore deck showed a very pretty "general average," a 6-pound shell blowing a hole through our plating and wrecking the topgallant forecastle, while several 4-pound projectiles pierced our funnel, blew away our fore topmast, and knocked one corner of the wheelhouse to smithereens. But I did not care; the purpose which I had in mind was fully worth all the damage and more, and I knew now that unless I personally was hit and disabled, I should be able to accomplish it. For I meant to give that impudent destroyer the stem, to run her down and sink her, knowing that our stout bows would shear through her thin plating as though it were paper. And the Koryu had the speed to do it, the destroyer having lost much of her speed by the barnacles and weed on her bottom, which she exposed at every roll.

Evidently the Russian did not realise my purpose until it was too late; he seemed to think I was a fool who was giving him a chance to inflict a deadly raking upon me as he crossed my bows; and it was not until I suddenly shifted my helm, rendering a collision inevitable, that what was going to happen dawned upon him. Then there arose a sudden outcry as the crew forsook their guns and made a mad dash at the two small boats slung to the davits, there was a frantic jangling of bells down in the destroyer's engine-room, an officer on her bridge snatched a revolver from his belt and snapped off five shots at me in as many seconds—none of which took effect—and then we were upon her. With scarcely any perceptible shock we struck her fair and square amidships, right in the wake of where I judged her boiler-room would be; there was a horrible crackling and rending of wood and iron as our stem sheared into and through her deck, a clamour of yells from the crew as they fought with each other in their mad haste to lower the boats, and the destroyer heeled over until she was almost on her beam-ends, a volleying succession of deep, heavy booms, accompanied by a tremendous outburst of steam, proclaimed that her boilers had burst, and at the same instant she seemed to crumple up and break completely in two, her bow-half sweeping along our port side, while her stern-half drove past to starboard, the crew, unable to get the boats afloat, leaping desperately overboard. A moment before striking the craft, I had rung down an order to the engine-room to stop the engines, and shouted for my crew to stand by with ropes' ends; and now several of these were hove, by means of which we managed to drag three Russians up on to our deck; and then we backed astern and fished up eight more, all of whom we marched below and locked up securely. The other poor fellows, including the captain of the boat, must have gone down with her, for we saw nothing more of them. But we had taught the destroyers a lesson, for thenceforth they kept their distance.

Examining into our own condition, we discovered that our injuries arising out of the collision amounted to about as much paint scraped off as might be replaced by the contents of a 10-pound tin, while all other damage was so high above the waterline as to make it of no practical account. And we had not a man injured; so I considered that we had emerged from the encounter very cheaply.

It was just half-past nine o'clock, by my watch, when, bursting through the curtains of haze, our battle fleet hove in sight in the south-west quarter, with flags flying, the water leaping and foaming about their cutwaters, and a fine "white feather" of steam playing on the top of their waste-pipes, indicating that the stokers were maintaining a full head of steam in the boilers. But—Japanese luck again—they were just too late; for at that moment the Russian fleet entered the protective zone of their shore batteries and, with a very poor attempt at bravado, slowed down to a speed of about six knots, while the Sevastopol, Pobieda, and Peresviet came steaming out to meet them. They had managed to escape by the skin of their teeth; and now, in accordance with the instructions given to the Admiral not to risk his ships by pitting them against the shore batteries, we also were obliged to slow up, and finally to stop our engines. As a matter of fact, the time had come for us to retire; but evidently everybody was curious to see what would be the result of my mine-laying operations of the preceding night, and by common consent we all lay-to.

We had not long to wait. We saw some signalling going on between the flagship and the three craft that had come out to meet the fleet; saw the trio fall into line in rear of the retreating fleet; and then, while our glasses were glued to our eyes as we watched the procession of great ships sweeping majestically toward the harbour's mouth—from which they were then little more than a mile distant—we suddenly beheld a tremendous flash of fire envelop the bows of the Petropavlosk, the flagship, which was leading the way into the harbour. The flash was accompanied by the upheaval of a gigantic cone of water and an outburst of thick yellow smoke which at once told us that one of our mines had got in its deadly work. Instantly a great exultant roar of "Banzai Nippon!" burst forth from the throats of the eagerly watching Japanese, but it was as instantly checked when they began to realise the full magnitude of the disaster that had befallen their enemy. For even before the sound of the shattering explosion reached our ears we saw her fore topmast fall, saw long tongues of flame leap up from her decks, saw her-two funnels whirl over and fall, one after the other, while her bridge, pilot-house, and foremast soared high into the air; and so tremendous was the force of the explosion that actually one of her 6-inch gun turrets was torn bodily from its strong fastenings and hurled some twenty feet aloft, to crash downward again upon the hapless ship's deck, while a great burst of flame, probably due to the explosion of her boilers, shot up where her two funnels had stood a moment before. A series of heavy explosions followed, seeming to indicate the explosion of her magazines, and then the doomed ship became enveloped in a thick haze of green smoke, in the midst of which played great streams of fire. Through that terrible green haze we were just able to see that she had taken a heavy list to starboard; then her bows dipped, her stern rose until her two propellers were lifted out of the water, a great mushroom-shaped pillar of smoke shot up from her, and—she was gone! And all this had happened in the short space of two minutes, during which shells from our battleships were falling thick and fast about the Russian ships, which had stopped their engines when the explosion occurred, while some of them lowered boats, in the hope of being able to render assistance to the unfortunate flagship.

With the disappearance of the flagship, the Russian fleet resumed its way toward the harbour, the Pobieda now being at the head of the line. But scarcely had she started her engines when an enormous pillar of flame, water, and smoke enveloped her amidships. She, too, had come into contact with one of our mines, but, fortunately for her, with much less disastrous results than those attending the destruction of the Petropavlosk. She instantly listed, showing that she was severely damaged, but beyond that nothing further happened, so far as we could see, except that the second explosion appeared to have created a perfect panic among the Russians, who immediately opened a terrific fire with every gun, big or small, apparently at random, for we could see the shots throwing up great jets of foam in the water all round them. Later, we learned that when the second explosion occurred, some one aboard one of the ships yelled that the fleet was surrounded by Japanese submarines, discharging torpedoes; hence the frantic firing at the water. Of course the assertion was groundless, since, as a matter of fact, the Japanese had no submarines; but it is not very surprising that, with two disasters, one following so closely upon the heels of the other, the Russians should jump to the conclusion that they had been attacked by submarines; for it must be remembered that we had carefully educated them into the belief that our mines were quite harmless.

The loss of the Petropavlosk was a terrible misfortune for the Russians, for she was one of their most formidable ships; being armed with four 12-inch guns of the most recent design, mounted in pairs in her two big turrets; with, as a secondary battery, twelve 6-inch quick-fire guns, eight of which were mounted in pairs in four small turrets placed, two on either beam, behind 5-inch steel armour, while the other four were in casemates similarly protected. She had six torpedo tubes, and we conjectured that she probably had a torpedo in each tube which exploded at the time of the disaster.

As for the Pobieda, our spies were able to ascertain that the mine which damaged her had breached three of her big compartments and some smaller ones, so that it was only with the utmost difficulty she was got into harbour and beached in time to save her. Also one set of her Belleville boilers was so severely damaged as to be rendered useless. Consequently she, too, was put out of action for a considerable period.

Thus, at one fell swoop, the Russian fleet was reduced in strength by two battleships. But their worst loss was their Admiral; for it is indisputable that Makarov was the most able, energetic, and enterprising naval leader they possessed.

Two days later, more mines were laid in Port Arthur roadstead, and another attempt was made to entice the Russian fleet to come out and fight us; but the attempt was a failure. As a matter of fact, it afterwards transpired that, upon receipt of the report announcing the loss of the Petropavlosk and the damage to the Pobieda, the authorities at Petersburg had telegraphed orders to the effect that the Port Arthur fleet was on no account whatever to leave the harbour until the arrival of Admiral Skrydloff, Makarov's successor.

Failing in this, Admiral Togo dispatched the cruisers Nisshin and Kasuga to Pigeon Bay, to make a high-angle fire attack upon the fortress and the ships in the harbour. I was not engaged in either of these attempts, the Admiral considering that I had well earned and was deserving of a few days' rest. Besides, he very properly wished to give some of his other officers a chance to distinguish themselves. But I understood that, with the exception of silencing a new battery which the Russians had built commanding the bay, the bombardment was not attended with any very important results.

On the following day our little Admiral, whom some have named the Japanese Nelson, dispatched a squadron of ten cruisers, accompanied by a torpedo flotilla, to attempt to bring the Vladivostock squadron to battle. This squadron was accompanied by a cargo steamer named the Kinshiu Maru, loaded with coal and spare stores for the use of the squadron while away from its base; and the expedition was placed under the command of Vice-Admiral Kamimura, with the cruiser Idzumi as his flagship. I had now had a little rest, and as there seemed to be no immediate prospect of serious fighting at Port Arthur, I volunteered for the expedition, and was temporarily attached to the Idzumi as a supernumerary.

We left our base among the Elliot Islands on the 16th of April; and after an uneventful cruise of a week's duration arrived at the port of Gensan, on the eastern coast of Korea, about two-thirds of the distance from the Elliots to Vladivostock.

There was a Japanese consul at this place, and upon our arrival off the port he and the Commandant came off in a steam launch and, boarding the Idzumi, requested an interview with the Admiral, which was at once granted, and the pair were conducted to Kamimura's cabin, where they remained for the best part of an hour. At the close of the interview the visitors entered their steam launch and returned to the shore. Some ten minutes later, Kamimura sent for me; and when I entered the cabin I found him poring over a chart of the east coast of Korea. He welcomed me with the usual elaborate courtesy of the Japanese in their intercourse with each other as well as with strangers, and invited me to approach the table.

"I am particularly glad that it is my good fortune to have the pleasure of your honourable company, Captain Swinburne," he began; "for an occasion has just arisen upon which I think your services may prove of the utmost value. You see this little place—Iwon—on the chart. The two honourable gentlemen who have just visited me—the Commandant of Gensan and our Japanese consul stationed here—inform me that rumours have reached their ears of certain suspicious occurrences at Iwon which seem to point to the possibility that the Russian Government may be contemplating the dispatch of a large body of troops to Vladivostock by rail, their embarkation there for Iwon, at which spot they may land, march across Korea, and take our troops at Port Arthur in the rear. To tell you the truth, I have not much faith in the idea, the only point in its favour being that such a movement would be wholly unanticipated by us. But in view of the information which I have just received, it is my bounden duty to investigate the matter; and I therefore propose to dispatch the Kinshiu Maru on a reconnoitring expedition to Iwon, to ascertain what foundation, if any, there may be for the suspicion. As of course you are aware, she carries a small detachment of troops, who may be very useful, should any opposition be met with. These troops will, of course, be commanded by their own officers, while Captain Yago will continue to command the ship. But, being a merchant seaman, he has had no experience of landing troops; and that is where your services will prove of value, especially should any resistance be offered. I therefore want you to change over temporarily to the Kinshiu, still as a supernumerary, but with my authority for you to take charge of and superintend the landing and subsequent embarkation arrangements. I am afraid this will mean a certain amount of disappointment for you, since as soon as you have started I shall proceed in search of the Vladivostock fleet. But you must endeavour to console yourself with the reflection that I may not find them, or be able to entice them to come out and fight me."

It was true, I certainly did feel a bit disappointed, for I most earnestly desired to see what it was like to be engaged in a regular pitched battle, even though it were only between a couple of hostile squadrons; but I was where I was, to lend a hand where required, not to pick and choose what I would or would not do; in any case I was not going to make occasion for it to be said that an Englishman had unwillingly accepted any duty offered to him; therefore with as much cheerfulness as I could muster, I expressed my perfect readiness to do my best; whereupon Kamimura gave me my written instructions and dismissed me to pack up such few of my belongings as I thought I might need. However, as I had only brought a very limited kit aboard the Idzumi, I decided to take everything, since it would all go into a small portmanteau.

Meanwhile, the skipper of the Kinshiu had been signalled to have a cabin prepared for me, and for him and Captain Honda, the officer in command of the troops, to repair on board the Idzumi to receive their instructions. They of course came at once, had a short interview with the Admiral, and we all left together, Honda doing the honours of the ship, welcoming me on board the transport, and introducing his fellow-officers, all of whom seemed very jolly fellows, with but one desire, namely, to get to grips with the Russians.

We left Gensan that afternoon, escorted by the 11th torpedo-boat flotilla under the command of Commander Takebe; the cruisers weighing at the same time and heading east, in the hope of seeing or hearing something of the Russians.

Unfortunately for us, we had not been under way a couple of hours before we ran into a dense fog which delayed our progress to such an extent that we did not reach Iwon until the morning of the 25th. We found there a long, roughly constructed wooden jetty running far enough out from the shore to give a depth of about six feet alongside its head, at low water, which greatly facilitated our landing; and, ashore, we discovered certain artfully concealed field-works of such a character that, armed with a few heavy guns, they might have pretty effectually covered a landing, unless interfered with by a very powerful force. But our visit was evidently quite unexpected, for we only found a small body of Russian troops—about a hundred or so, with a squadron of Cossacks— in possession; and a few shells from our torpedo-boats sent them to the right-about in double-quick time. We destroyed the earthworks, and the jetty, as a precautionary measure, and, having reconnoitred the country for several miles in every direction without discovering anything very alarming, returned to the ship the same night, without casualties of any kind.

It was now about six o'clock in the evening. During the greater part of the day the weather had been beautifully fine; but toward three o'clock in the afternoon a heavy bank of dark, slate-coloured cloud had gathered in the eastern quarter of the sky, so quickly rising and spreading that, by five o'clock, the entire firmament had become obscured, the wind dropped to a dead calm, the light dwindled to a murky, unnatural kind of twilight, there were a few flickerings of sheet lightning, low down on the horizon, occasionally accompanied by a low muttering of distant thunder, and the mercury was dropping with rather ominous rapidity.

I confess that, for my own part, I felt a bit puzzled; I did not quite know what to make of the weather indications. It might be that nothing worse than a violent thunderstorm was brewing; but against this theory there was to be set the sudden and ominous decline of the barometric pressure. We had fulfilled our task, and were preparing to get under way, when Takebe, who was in command of the torpedo flotilla, came aboard to consult with our skipper as to the advisability of going to sea, in the face of such threatening conditions.

Unfortunately, our escort was composed entirely of torpedo-boats; and although they were staunch enough little craft of their kind, they were nothing like such good sea boats as our destroyers. The latter were, under able management, capable of riding out practically any weather, but with the torpedo-boats it was rather a different story. Some of those that we had with us were small and rather ancient, their engines were not to be too implicitly relied upon, and their boilers were nearly worn-out; indeed, they would never have been detailed for the service, had it been thought that there would be any likelihood of real righting. If by any chance they should happen to be caught at sea in anything like a heavy gale, and anything should go wrong with either their engines or their boilers, the probability was that they would founder, taking all hands with them.

It was these considerations that were weighing upon Commander Takebe's mind when he came aboard the Kinshiu to consult with Captain Yagi; and it was evident from his first words that he was all in favour of adopting the prudent course, and staying where we were until it could be seen how matters were going to turn out. But Yagi and he looked at things with different eyes. In the first place, Yagi did not believe that the portents indicated anything more serious than, at worst, a sharp thunderstorm, while at the same time his instructions from Kamimura were that the reconnaissance was to be executed with the utmost dispatch, and that, this done, he was to immediately return to Gensan, so that he might be on the spot in the event of the cruisers needing to re-bunker. And in any case, should it come on to blow, as Commander Takebe seemed to fear, he had no apprehensions concerning the Kinshiu; she was a good sturdy little ship, and would weather out the worst that was at all likely to happen.

The two discussed the matter together for quite half an hour, occasionally referring to me for my opinion; but both of them were considerably older than I, and had had a much more varied experience than myself of the somewhat peculiar weather conditions of the Sea of Japan; I therefore said as little as possible, and did not attempt to offer a word of advice to either of them. Finally, the matter ended by each of them having his own way—that is to say, Yagi decided to leave for Gensan forthwith, unescorted, taking such trifling risk as there might be—which, they both agreed, amounted practically to none at all— while Takebe determined to study the safety of his command by remaining where he was and awaiting developments. Accordingly, as soon as the Commander had gone, the order was given to get the anchor; and about seven o'clock we steamed out to sea.



CHAPTER NINE.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE KINSHIU MARU.

By the time that we were fairly out at sea, it was pitch dark, not a star to be seen, and to add still further to the obscurity, a light mist gathered, as it so often does in the Japan Sea, so that by eight o'clock it was only with the utmost difficulty that we were able to discern a small junk which we had in tow, and which had been employed by us to facilitate the landing of the troops. The weather still continued overcast, and the play of sheet lightning gradually grew more vivid and frequent; but there was no wind, and not much sea; and as time went on I began to think, with Yagi, that Takebe's apprehensions had been groundless, and that we were in for nothing worse than, may be, a thunderstorm, after all.

I spent a couple of hours in the saloon that night, watching the infantry officers, of whom there were six, playing some wonderful game of cards, of which I could make nothing, and then strolled up on the bridge to see what the weather was like, and to have a yarn with Yagi, before turning in for the night. It was still hazy and very overcast, but there was not a breath of air save the draught created by the motion of the ship, and there was a very beautiful display of sheet lightning, almost continuous, which lighted up the clouds, the mist, and the sea in the most marvellous manner.

The ship was then heading south-east, with all her lights burning brightly, as in duty bound, and I was sitting astride a camp-stool, with my shoulders resting against the port rail of the bridge, while Yagi, also occupying a camp-stool, sat facing me. He was spinning some yarn— a sort of Japanese fairy tale, it seemed to be—about a geisha, while I was staring contemplatively into the darkness over the starboard bow, watching the wonderful play of the lightning, when suddenly, as a flash lighted up the gloom, I thought I caught a momentary glimpse of three or four dark shapes, about a mile away, broad on the starboard bow. If I had really seen those shapes, they could only be ships, and they were showing no lights; I therefore ruthlessly cut into the skipper's yarn by directing his attention to the point where the momentary vision had revealed itself.

"What is that you say?" he exclaimed. "Ships without lights? Then it must be our Admiral, still hunting for the Vladivostock squadron. Well, we have not seen them, and we had better tell him so, and at the same time inquire whether he has any fresh orders for us. Mr Uchida,"—to the chief officer,—"our squadron is away out there, somewhere on the starboard bow. Have the goodness to honourably make our night signal, as I wish to speak the Admiral."

Uchida hurried away and, the signal lanterns being always kept ready for immediate use, in less than a minute they were hoisted. Meanwhile there had been no further lightning flashes to illuminate the darkness, and I rose to my feet, for we were still steaming ahead at full speed, and I had a feeling that we must be drawing pretty close to the strangers. As I did so, our signal was answered by the imperative order: "Stop immediately!" And at the same instant a brilliant and protracted flicker of sheet lightning revealed four large ships, not more than three cables' lengths distant. The leading ship was a big lump of a four-funnelled cruiser, the funnels coloured white, with black tops, and she carried three masts. The second craft was very similar in general appearance to the first, also having four white, black-topped funnels, and three masts. The third was a two-masted, three-funnelled ship; while the fourth was of distinctly ancient appearance, being of the period when sails were as much used as steam. She had two funnels, and was barque-rigged, with royal yards across, but she was now under steam, with all her canvas furled. We had no such ships in our fleet, while I instantly identified the barque-rigged craft as the Russian cruiser Rurik, of the Vladivostock squadron! That squadron, then, for which Admiral Kamimura was especially hunting, was actually at sea, and we had fallen in with it!

There was not the least doubt about it. In every wardroom and gunroom of every Japanese warship there was an album containing a beautiful, complete set of photographs of every ship in the Russian navy, each ship being pictured from at least four different points of view; and it was a part of every officer's duty to study these photographs until he had acquired the ability to identify at sight any Russian warship he might chance to encounter. Thus, in the leading ship of the squadron in sight, a moment's reflection enabled me to recognise the Rossia, with, astern of her, the Gromoboi, then the Bogatyr, and finally the Rurik.

"Jove!" I exclaimed. "We've done it now, with a vengeance, Yagi. Those four ships comprise the Russian Vladivostock squadron; and we are right under their guns! Stop her, man, for heaven's sake. It is the only thing you can do. If you don't, the beggars will sink us out of hand."

"They will probably do that in any case," growled Yagi, as he laid his hand on the engine-room telegraph and rang down an order to stop the engines. "But, as you honourably say, Captain, it is the only thing to be done, although it means the interior of a Russian prison for all hands of us."

As the Kinshiu's engines stopped, the Rossia turned her searchlights upon us, brought her guns to bear, and lowered two boats, the crews of which we could see were armed to the teeth. And at the same moment two destroyers loomed up out of the darkness, one of which stationed herself on our port bow, while the other placed herself upon our starboard quarter, each of them with their tubes and guns manned. Evidently, the Russians did not mean to leave us the smallest loophole for escape.

The six Japanese infantry officers, noting the stoppage of our engines, came rushing up on deck to learn what was the matter; and upon hearing that the strange ships which had stopped us were Russian warships, hurried away below again, presumably, I thought, to give orders of some sort to the troops under their command.

The Rossia, with the way she had on her, had by this time closed to within about twenty-five fathoms of us; and at this juncture an officer on her bridge hailed, ordering our skipper to send a boat.

"Good!" ejaculated Yagi. "We will do so. But we will not go aboard the Rossia. Oh, no. We will slip away in the darkness and make for the land. And you will honourably accompany us, will you not, Captain? A Russian prison has no attractions for you, eh?"

"You are right, my friend, it has not," I answered; "for which reason I must decline to accompany you. Because you will never get away, Yagi. How can you, with those searchlights turned full upon us, and those destroyers where they are?"

"Nevertheless, I shall try," answered the skipper; and he turned away to bellow an order to the crew to clear away and lower the port lifeboat, the port side being shielded from the glare of the searchlights. Then I heard him order the chief officer to superintend the lowering of the boat, and at the same time to smuggle an extra breaker of water and a bag or two of biscuits into her.

Then he turned again to me. "If you will not come with us, what will you honourably do, my friend?" he demanded.

"Oh," said I, "I shall join the infantry officers below, and see what they are going to do." And without further parley, I ran down the ladder and made my way below to the saloon, where I found the six officers sitting at the table, looking very pale and grave.

"Well, gentlemen," I cried, "here we are, in a nice little Russian trap. What do you propose to do?"

"We thought at first of performing hari-kari," said one of them. "But Captain Nagai, with whom you were discussing the subject of hari-kari, only the night before last, appears to have come round to your way of thinking that it is better to live for the Emperor than to die for him. He argues—as you did—that a dead man can do nothing for his Emperor, whereas a living man may be able to do many things; in which statement there is truth. Therefore we propose to surrender to the Russians, in the honourable hope that we may be able to effect our escape, sooner or later, and return to fight for Nippon. What do you honourably propose to do, Captain?"

"Oh," said I, "to surrender seems the most sensible thing to do, and doubtless I shall do it—eventually. Meanwhile, however, I think I will toddle up on deck again, and see how Yagi and the ship's crew are getting on. They are going to try to slip away in the ship's lifeboat, you know?"

"Banzai!" cried one of the officers. "I hope they will honourably succeed. But, having decided to surrender, I think the safest place is down here. Doubtless we shall soon see you again."

"Y-e-s,—possibly," I replied. "But I shall not surrender until the last moment; so, if you do not see me again, you may conclude that I have found some means of effecting my escape, and have seized them."

Saying which, I shook hands with them all round, and returned to the deck. During my brief visit to the saloon, Yagi and his men had got their boat into the water, and were now pulling boldly for the Rossia; but I noticed that directly they passed out of the area of radiance cast by the searchlight, they shifted their helm sharply and, crossing the cruiser's bows, were evidently endeavouring to slip past her in the gloom of her own shadow.

Then, suddenly, an idea occurred to me. The Kinshiu Maru had in tow a small junk, or lighter, which we had used to facilitate the landing of the soldiers at Iwon. Where was she now?

Crouching low under the cover of the bulwarks, to avoid being seen by those aboard the Rossia, I slipped aft and, cautiously peering over the taffrail, saw that she had drifted right in under the Kinshiu's counter, where she was momentarily threatening to bilge herself against the steamer's iron rudder, as the two craft ground against each other on the swell. The forward half of her lay in the deep shadow of the Kinchiu's stern—a shadow rendered still deeper and more opaque by the vivid brilliance of the searchlight beam that covered the stern-half of her, and it immediately occurred to me that if I could but climb down into her, unobserved, and cut her adrift, I might possibly contrive to avoid entering a Russian prison after all.

No sooner thought of than done; the moment was propitious, the towing hawser lay under my hand, and in another moment I was down upon her tiny forecastle, hacking away at the grass rope with my pocket-knife. The blade was keen, as a sailor's knife should always be, and with a few vigorous slashes the hawser was severed and I was adrift. Then, taking advantage of the heave of the two craft, I managed to move the junk until she lay entirely in the shadow cast by the Kinshiu's hull.

At this juncture I heard the gruff voices of Russians overhead, on the transport's deck, and, thinking discretion the better part of valour under the circumstances, dropped off the junk's short fore deck into her shallow hold and there concealed myself, lest any inquisitive Russian should peer over the bulwarks, catch sight of me, and order me up on deck again. I don't know whether it occurred to any of the enemy to look over the side, but I do not think so; at all events, if they did, nobody took the trouble to come down and search the junk; and in a few minutes the voices ceased; I took it that the visitors had gone below to search the ship. If they had, what would happen to them, with over a hundred armed Japanese soldiers down there?

I had not long to wait for an answer to this question. About two minutes of silence succeeded to the sudden cessation of the Russians' voices on deck, and then the muffled crack of a pistol-shot rang out from the Kinshiu's interior, instantly followed by a shout of "Banzai Nippon!" and the crack of several rifles; there arose a sudden outburst of yells and execrations in Russian, a stampede of many feet along the deck, the sounds of a scuffling hand-to-hand fight, a volley of orders from the Russian officer in command of the boarding party, a hoarse hail from one of the warships, and then the rattle and splash of oars hastily thrown out. Evidently, the Japanese soldiers had given the intruders a warm reception.

The hurried departure of the boarding party was quickly followed by a rolling volley of rifle-fire from the Kinshiu, apparently directed upon the retreating boats, for I heard cries and groans which seemed to proceed from them. Then, from the Rossia came the sudden, snapping bark of her quick-firers and machine-guns, and a storm of missiles crashed through the transport's thin bulwarks or flew whining overhead, intermingled with shrieks, groans, and excited shouts from the Japanese soldiers, who had evidently resolved to die fighting, rather than surrender. The sounds awakened the fighting instinct within me; I felt that, let happen what would, I must be among those gallant fellows, doing my share of the work; and I nipped out from under the junk's short deck, intent upon climbing aboard the Kinshiu again. And then I found that during the short period of my seclusion, the junk had parted company, and was now a good twenty feet distant from the transport. True, I might jump overboard and swim the intervening space, and I was actually poising myself for the dive when the question flashed into my brain: How was I to get aboard, how climb the vessel's smooth iron side. There were no ropes hanging overboard, save the severed towing hawser, and I had cut through that so high up that even when the steamer's stern dipped, the end did not reach within a couple of feet of the water. I recognised that whether I would or not, I must now stay where I was, for return to the steamer was impossible. And while I stood there on the junk's short fore deck, watching the scene with fascinated eyes, that awful, unequal duel went on between the Japanese rifles and the Rossia's machine-guns; the soldiers frenziedly yelling "Banzai Nippon!" between each volley, while the Russian gunners plied their pieces in grim silence. The Kinshiu's deck, I knew, must be by this time a veritable shambles, for the Russian cruiser lay close aboard, and her machine-guns could sweep the transport's decks from stem to stern; moreover, the rapid and ominous slackening of the rifle-fire testified eloquently to the frightful carnage that was proceeding. The cries of "Banzai Nippon!" were no longer thundered forth in a defiant roar, but were raised by a few voices only, which were almost drowned by the dreadful shrieks and moans of the wounded and dying.

Then, suddenly, there occurred a frightful explosion, the Kinshiu Maru was hove up on a mountain of foaming water which belched forth fire and smoke, the air became suddenly full of flying splinters and wreckage, a heavy fragment of which smote me full upon the forehead and knocked me back into the junk's hold, and as my senses left me I was dimly conscious of a wailing cry, pealing out across the water, of "Sayonara!" (Farewell for ever). It was the last good-bye to Emperor, country, and all who were nearest and dearest to them of that heroic little band of Japanese infantry-men who preferred to die fighting gloriously, rather than win inglorious safety by surrender. The Russians had made an end of the affair by torpedoing the transport, and she must have sunk within a very few minutes.

When I recovered my senses it was broad daylight. For a few moments I knew not where I was, or what had happened to me, but I was conscious of the most splitting headache from which I had ever suffered in my life. The next thing that dawned upon me was that I was lying in the bottom of a small craft of some sort, which was rolling and plunging most atrociously on a short, choppy sea, that I was chilled to the very marrow, and that water was washing about and over me with every motion of the boat. I was wet to the skin and, although shivering with cold, my blood scorched my veins as though it were liquid fire.

I sat up, staring vaguely about me, and then became aware of a curious stiff feeling in the skin of my face. Putting my hands to my head, to still the throbbing smart of it, I found that my hair was all clogged with some sticky kind of liquid which, upon looking at my hands, I found to be blood, evidently my own. This at once explained the curious stiff feeling of my face; it was probably caused by dry caked blood. But, to make sure, I sprang open the case of my watch—the polished surface serving well enough for a mirror—and gravely studied my reflected image. I must have presented a ghastly sight, for my whole face was a mask of blood, out of which my eyes glared feverishly. Then, as I continued to stare at the interior of my watch-case, wondering what it all meant, my memory of the events of the preceding night—I knew it must be the preceding night, because my watch was still going—all came back to me, and I understood where I was.

Scrambling giddily to my feet, I looked about me and saw a bucket rolling to and fro on the junk's bottom-boards. The sight suggested an idea to me and, taking the bucket and the end of a small line which I bent on to the handle, I somehow managed to hoist myself up on to the small foredeck and, lying prone—for I dared not as yet trust myself to stand—I lowered the bucket, and drew it up again, full of clean, sparkling salt-water. Into this I plunged my head, keeping it immersed as long as my breath would allow, meanwhile removing the blood from my face and hair as well as I could. The contact of the cold salt-water made my lacerated forehead and scalp smart most atrociously, yet it relieved my headache and greatly refreshed me. Then, stripping off my wet shirt, I tore a long strip from it and, thoroughly saturating it in the clean salt-water, bound up my wound as best I could, after which I felt distinctly better.

Then, sitting on the little deck, I looked about me to see if I could discover any traces of last night's horror; but there was a moderate breeze blowing, and I instantly recognised that the junk must have drifted several miles from the spot where the disaster had occurred. There was nothing to be seen, no, not so much as a solitary scrap of wreckage, within the radius of a mile, beyond which everything was blotted out by a curtain of haze.

By this time I had pretty completely recovered my senses, and was able to fully realise my situation. I was wet, cold, feverish, and horribly thirsty, and was the sole occupant of a small, leaky junk of about twenty-five tons, without masts or sails, these having been removed in order the better to fit her for the duty of carrying troops. She had a pair of sweeps aboard, it is true; but they were so ponderous that each demanded the strength of four men to work it; they were therefore quite useless to me, even had I known precisely where I was, which I did not. All I knew was that I was some fifty miles, or thereabout, to the southward and eastward of Iwon; but I might as well have been five hundred miles from the place, for all the means I had of returning to it, or even of making a shot at Gensan. The fact was that I was adrift in a hulk; and the utmost that I could do was to keep her afloat, if possible, and patiently wait for something to come along and take me off her.

Realising this, I proceeded to overhaul the junk, with a view to ascertaining what were her resources. I remembered that a cask of fresh water had been put aboard her for the use of the troops while landing and embarking; and I soon found this, still more than half-full, snugly stowed away under her foredeck, with a lot of raffle consisting of odds and ends of line of varying sizes, a fragment of fishing-net, a few short lengths of planking, and other utterly useless stuff. I drank dipper after dipper of water, until my raging thirst was quenched, and then stripped off my clothes, wrung them out, and spread them to dry in the wind while I rubbed my body dry with my hands, employing a considerable amount of exertion, in order to restore warmth to my cramped limbs. In this effort I was at length successful; and my next business was to search the other end of the junk, in the vague hope that I might find something in the way of food; but there was none; therefore I had to go hungry. I had a bucket, however, and with this I bailed the hooker practically dry, as much to pass the time and keep myself warm, as for any other reason. Then, having done everything that I could think of, all that remained for me was to wait as patiently as might be for something to come along and rescue me.

My position was by no means an enviable one. I had no food; but, for the moment, that did not greatly matter, since the smart of my wound had made me feverish, and I had no appetite. On the other hand, I suffered from an incessant thirst, which even the copious draughts of water in which I frequently indulged did little to allay. The weather was overcast, and there was a thin mist lying upon the surface of the grey sea which circumscribed my view to a radius of less than a mile, and the air was keenly raw. I recognised that it was necessary to keep myself constantly active, to counteract the effect of the chilly atmosphere, and this I did, bustling about, overhauling the raffle in the junk, and executing a good deal of utterly useless work, which I varied from time to time by taking long spells of watching, in the hope of sighting some craft to which I might signal for assistance. Also I repeatedly bathed my head in sea water, which did a little toward reducing the feeling of feverishness from which I was suffering.

Toward the afternoon the conditions became more favourable. The clouds broke, the sun came out and took the feeling of rawness out of the air, so that I no longer suffered from the cold, and the mist melted away, affording me a clear view to the horizon. But the sea was bare; there was not even so much as a blur of steamer's smoke staining the sky in any direction; and I began to wonder how long it might be before I should be picked up, or whether indeed I should be picked up at all. I knew, of course, that the non-arrival of the Kinshiu at Gensan would give rise to speculation, and that probably a search for her would be instituted along the course which she might be expected to steer, but I was already several miles from that course, and hourly drifting farther from it. The question of importance to me was whether the search would extend over a sufficiently wide area to take me in.

The remainder of that day passed uneventfully for me; I could do nothing beyond what I have already indicated; no craft of any description hove in sight; and toward sunset the pangs of hunger began to manifest themselves. I watched the sea until night closed down; and then, when it became so dark that further watching was useless, I crept in under the fore deck among the raffle and turned in upon such a bed as I had been able to prepare for myself during the day, in anticipation of the possibility that I might be obliged to pass the night aboard the junk.

As might be supposed, under the circumstances, the earlier part of the night at least was full of discomfort for me; but somewhere along in the small hours I dropped off to sleep, and eventually slept soundly, to be awakened by the noise of steam blowing off, close at hand. I started up, listened for a moment to assure myself that the sound was not an illusion, and, satisfied that it was real, scrambled up on the junk's deck, to be greeted with the sight of several ships of war close at hand. A single glance sufficed to assure me that my troubles were at an end; for the ships in sight were those of Admiral Kamimura's squadron, the Idzumi being hove-to at less than a cable's length distant, in the very act of lowering a boat. There were several officers on her bridge, and she was close enough to enable me to see that they were all scrutinising the junk through their glasses; I therefore waved to them, and was waved to in reply. A few minutes later the boat, in charge of a lieutenant, dashed smartly alongside and the officer scrambled nimbly up the junk's low side.

I think he had not recognised me until then, although we knew each other very well. He gazed at me dubiously for a moment, then his hand shot out to grasp mine as he exclaimed:

"Hillo! my dear Swinburne, what does this mean; what are you doing here? And are you all alone?"

I answered his question by informing him, in as few words as possible, of what had happened to the ill-fated Kinshiu Maru, and then we got down into the boat and pulled across to the Idzumi, where Kamimura and his officers were impatiently awaiting us. They gave me the warmest of welcomes, and would not even permit me to tell them my story, the lieutenant who had rescued me assuring them that he had already obtained all the particulars and could tell it as well as I could. I was accordingly at once turned over to the care of the ship's surgeon, and made comfortable in the sick bay, the squadron immediately resuming its cruise.

Now that the tension of looking after myself was relaxed, a reaction set in, with high fever, and for the next four days I was really ill, with frequent intervals of delirium. But there were no complications of any kind, and by the end of the sixth day I was so far recovered as to be able to dress and sit up for an hour or two. Everybody aboard the Idzumi was exceedingly kind to me, as kind indeed as though they had been brothers; and this fraternal feeling of kindly interest was not confined to the Idzumi alone, Kamimura himself informing me, with a smile, that it had become quite a habit for the other ships to signal an inquiry as to my condition, every morning. As the officers of the ship came off watch, they came tiptoeing along to inquire after me; and if I happened to be awake, and the doctor permitted it, they would sit and chat with me for half an hour or so before retiring to their cabins, by which means I gradually acquired all the missing links in the story of the squadron's abortive cruise.

From these conversations I gathered that after the squadron and the Kinshiu parted company off Gensan, while we in the transport headed for Iwon, the squadron proceeded toward Vladivostock, being much delayed by a dense fog, through which it steamed at half-speed, each ship towing a fog buoy as a guide to the ship immediately following, though, even with this assistance, keeping touch was only accomplished with extreme difficulty. Thus they proceeded until, by dead reckoning, they arrived at a point seventy miles south of Vladivostock, when, the weather being much too thick to permit of fighting the enemy, even should the two fleets blunder together, Admiral Kamimura decided to retrace his steps, arriving at Gensan two days later. Here the Japanese consul boarded the Idzumi and imparted to the Admiral the startling information that on the previous day four strange warships, accompanied by a couple of destroyers, had appeared off the port, the warships being later identified as those constituting the Vladivostock squadron. The destroyers had entered the harbour, boarded a small Japanese craft loaded with fish, ordered her crew to get into her boat and go ashore, and had then torpedoed her; the expended torpedo being probably at least as valuable as the ship which it sank! Later on, the Russian cruisers had entered the harbour, but had left again without doing any damage. In reply to an inquiry concerning the Kinshiu Maru, the consul replied that neither she nor her escort had yet returned. This information caused Admiral Kamimura some uneasiness, since there had been time for us to do all that we had been ordered to do, and to get back to Gensan; and the squadron was actually getting its anchors, preparatory to its departure to hunt for the transport, when Commander Takebe with his torpedo-boats arrived. Questioned as to the whereabouts of the Kinshiu, he expressed surprise at her non-arrival, briefly relating particulars of the discussion which had resulted in the transport leaving Iwon, unescorted, while he remained in harbour to see what the weather developments were going to be.

This was enough for Kamimura. Takebe's story, in conjunction with that of the consul at Gensan, convinced the Admiral that something very serious had happened; and he at once gave orders for the torpedo flotilla to proceed along the coast to hunt for news of the transport, while he, with his squadron, started off in chase of the Russians.

It was on the morning following this second departure of the squadron from Gensan, that they sighted the junk from which I was rescued. It is possible that, in his eagerness to overtake the Russians, he might have pushed on without pausing to examine a small, apparently derelict junk, but for the fact that, fortunately for me, two or three of the Idzumi's officers recognised her as the junk which the Kinshiu had taken with her to facilitate the landing operations at Iwon.

After they had taken me off the junk, the Japanese had pushed ahead direct for Vladivostock, in the hope of arriving there before the Russians. But in this hope they were disappointed. Upon their arrival, the Russian cruisers were seen to be already back in harbour; and all that was accomplished was to drive precipitately back into the harbour two Russian destroyers which had the impudence—or the courage—to come out and threaten them; and also to exchange a few shots with the Russian forts.



CHAPTER TEN.

ITO'S YARN.

We arrived at our rendezvous among the Hall Islands on the afternoon of May 3rd, and found the place practically deserted, those who were left behind reporting that Admiral Togo and the fleet had left for Port Arthur, the previous day, for the purpose of making a third attempt to seal up the Russian fleet in the harbour. I was by this time making excellent progress toward recovery, but the Idzumi's surgeon considered that I should do still better in the hospital ashore; I was therefore landed within half an hour of the ship's coming to an anchor, and that evening found me comfortably established in the roomy convalescent ward, in charge of an excellent and assiduous medical and nursing staff. The latter was composed of young Japanese women, than whom, I think it would be impossible to find more gentle, attentive and tender sick-room attendants. I don't know whether they were more than usually kind to me because I happened to be a foreigner who was helping to fight Japan's battles in her hour of need, but it appeared to me that they were vying with each other as to who should do the most for me. Had I been a king, they could not have done more for me than they did.

On the following morning, having been assisted to rise and dress by the two nurses whose especial charge I was, and established by them near an open window overlooking the roadstead, I was making play with a particularly appetising breakfast when, glancing out of the window, I saw a big fleet of transports arriving—there were eighty-three in all, for I had the curiosity to count them; and while they were coming to an anchor another fleet appeared, consisting of the warships which had been to Port Arthur to assist in the attempt to seal up the harbour. So interested was I in these arrivals that, in watching them, I allowed my breakfast to go cold, and nothing would satisfy my nurses but that they must get me another breakfast, which they did.

I had scarcely finished my belated meal and been attended to by the surgeon, when the door of the ward was thrown open, and in rushed my former lieutenant, Ito, now captain of the destroyer Akatsuki. He had volunteered for service on the 2nd, it appeared, and upon his return had encountered the Idzumi's Number 1, who had related to Ito my adventure aboard the junk, and the good fellow had straightway come to the hospital to see me "and pay his respects." Also, I shrewdly suspected, to spin me the yarn of his own adventures. But he insisted upon hearing my story first; and when I had told it, in the fewest words possible, he told me his own, which, stripped of his somewhat peculiar modes of expression, ran somewhat as follows:

"Two days ago," he began, "the news reached here that our soldiers had crossed the river Yalu; and thereupon the Admiral made up his mind that the moment had arrived for a further attempt to be made to seal up the Russian fleet in Port Arthur harbour.

"As you are aware, Togo has for some time been quietly making preparations for this attempt, the twelve steamers that have been lying at anchor here having been provided especially for that purpose. You know also that of those twelve, eight have been prepared in the usual manner, by placing heavy charges of gun-cotton in their bottoms, connected with the bridge by electric wires, so that the officer in command might be able to explode the charges and sink his ship at the proper moment, while, on top of these charges, the hull of the ship was converted into a solid rock-like mass by filling her with concrete made of stone, old railway metals and other iron, and cement. Five of the ships were also fitted with searchlights, so that we might not again have to contend with the difficulty of finding the harbour entrance.

"Commander Hayashi, whom I believe you know, was appointed to command the expedition; and volunteers were called for in the usual way. Of course I offered myself; and Togo was good enough to appoint me to the Totomi Maru, a small craft of some nineteen hundred tons, under a splendid fellow named Honda.

"We left here at noon of the 2nd, escorted by the gunboats Akagi and Chokai, the second, third, fourth, and fifth destroyer divisions, and the ninth, tenth, and fourteenth torpedo-boat flotillas.

"When we started, the weather was everything that could be desired; there was no wind, and the water was like glass, while, for a wonder, the air was crystal clear; also there would be a good slice of moon to light us on our way after sunset. But the weather was too fine to last; you know how it is in these seas, my dear chap. Toward sunset the barometer began to fall very rapidly, and about eight o'clock a fresh south-easterly breeze sprang up quite suddenly; it became hazy, the sea got up rapidly, and by six bells in the first watch it was blowing hard, and the weather became so thick that we lost sight of each other. I heard to-day that Hayashi, seeing what was coming, made the signal to postpone the attempt; but we never saw the signal, and went on, rolling and plunging through the short, choppy seas in the most uncomfortable manner.

"It appears that the alarm was first given to the Russians, about two o'clock next morning, by the appearance of what looked like a searchlight, far out at sea, directed full upon the mouth of the harbour. Of course the searchlight on Golden Hill was at once brought into play, and it chanced that as the beam swept the sea, five of our torpedo-boats were sighted, attempting to slip into the harbour. It was a thousand pities that they were prematurely discovered, for their skippers had formed a bold plan to enter the harbour and torpedo every ship they could find, taking their chance of being able to get away afterward. But of course their discovery frustrated that plan, for so hot a fire was opened upon them by three Russian gunboats which were guarding the harbour's mouth, that to have persisted would have meant their destruction. So they were obliged to retire; for the Admiral would not have thanked them for throwing away their boats uselessly.

"Then the searchlight picked up the Mikawa Maru, which was leading three other explosion ships straight for the harbour, and a terrific fire was opened upon her, the Russians evidently recognising her as a merchant ship, and guessing at her business. From Sosa's report it appears that, having seen the flashes of the guns, firing upon our torpedo-boats, he was under the impression that certain of the explosion ships had already entered the harbour and were being fired upon by the Russians; but, as he drew nearer in, his searchlight revealed his mistake, showing him that instead of being one of the last, he was the first to arrive; therefore he called down into the engine-room for every ounce of steam they could give him, and went, full pelt, for the harbour, through a perfect tornado of projectiles, great and small, few of which, however, touched the ship, though they were lashing the sea into spray all round her.

"Without sustaining any serious damage, the Mikawa charged right into the narrow channel at top speed. At this point she came into violent collision with something that afterward proved to be a 'boom,' constructed of stout balks of timber, steel hawsers, and ponderous chain cables, all strongly lashed together and stretched right athwart the channel, from shore to shore. But she was of nearly two thousand tons measurement, and, with the way that she had on her, she went through that boom as though it had been a thread! On she went, until not only the searchlight but also Golden Hill fort was on her starboard quarter, and she had penetrated farther than any other Japanese ship had done since war was declared, when, having reached the point where the channel is narrowest, Sosa, her skipper, swung her athwart the fairway and, amid the cheers of his crew and the deafening explosions of guns and shells, coolly blew her bottom out and sank her, he and his crew just having time to scramble into their two boats as the steamer foundered. Wasn't that fine?"

"Splendid!" I agreed, heartily. "And what became of that fine chap, Sosa, and his crew? Did they manage to escape?"

"Sosa and three men of his boat's crew contrived, although they were all wounded, to pull out to our torpedo-boats, and were picked up," replied Ito. "But the Russians fired upon the other boat and destroyed her and her crew, despite Sosa's desperate efforts to save them.

"The next ship to arrive was the Sakura Maru. She was about a mile and a half ahead of us in the Totomi, and we were able to see everything that happened to her.

"I believe it was her opportune arrival that gave the gallant Sosa and his companions the chance to escape; because of course as soon as the Sakura was seen, the Russian gunners gave all their attention to her.

"It was a grand sight to see her—she was more than a thousand tons bigger than the Mikawa—rushing straight for the harbour's mouth at her utmost speed, with the water foaming about her bows, a thin stream of smoke and sparks issuing from her funnels, her whole hull, spars, rigging, and funnels standing up, a black silhouette, between us and the white beam of the searchlight, with shells exploding all about her, deluging her with foam, but apparently doing her no harm. She stood on, evidently under a full head of steam, for we could see 'the white feather' at the top of her waste-pipes, until she reached the Pinnacle Rock; and there they anchored and sank her. She was manned almost entirely by cadets; and as an illustration of the consummate coolness with which they behaved, let me tell you that when the ship went down, they actually had the presence of mind to take flares aloft with them, which they burnt from the crosstrees, to guide us into the channel!

"Of course the Russians fired upon them, and shot away first one mast and then the other. Then they were called upon to surrender, some of the Russians actually launching boats to take them off the floating wreckage; but the cadets were imbued with the true Samurai spirit, they preferred death to surrender, and they defended themselves with their revolvers from all who approached them, until every Japanese was slain.

"Then came the turn of the Totomi Maru, we being the third ship to arrive. Well, I have not much to say about what we did, or what happened to us; it would be merely a repetition of what I have already described. Like our predecessors, we went in at full speed, struck some floating object two terrific blows just as we entered the channel, swept on, amid a hurricane of shells and bullets shrieking and whining about our ears, until we came to the wreck of the Mikawa, and there Honda— who is about as cool a chap under fire as you are—stopped and reversed his engines, swung the ship athwart the channel, with our bows as close as we could guess to the Mikawa's taffrail, let go two anchors, one ahead and one aft, and calmly sank the craft.

"The Russians kept their searchlight upon us, and peppered us well with rifle-fire, until the Totomi went down; and then they had other fish to honourably fry, as you English say; for the Aikoku Maru was now racing in toward the harbour's mouth, and it was high time for them to attend to her. They turned the searchlight upon her, opened fire upon her with every weapon that would hurl a shot, and presently, when she was within about a thousand yards of the entrance, they fired an observation mine as she passed over it, and down she went, taking her engine-room and stoke-hold crew with her.