AT MADAGASCAR
_December 28th._--Since early this morning I have been visiting ships.
Here is a description of life in a torpedo-boat,--crowded, dirty, hot,
and always rolling; the decks littered with various things, the crew
sleeping in every corner. Dogs are crowded together, and in several
boats there are monkeys. There is nowhere to walk. The crew--good,
resolute, bold, and crafty--are crowded with the officers, but do not
inconvenience them.
I called on the _Borodino_ and went into the wardroom and captain's
cabin. During the last voyage they got up theatricals for the amusement
of the crew. They were very successful. The clowns especially excelled;
they say they were as good as professionals.
The sun here scorches one severely. I descended from the _Kamchatka_,
sat on the wooden thwart of the cutter, and jumped up quickly--I had
burnt myself.
_December 29th._--To-day from 12.30 I was on shore with the captain,
buying wood. We were at a German factory, and I asked the Germans to
send a letter when opportunity offered. I think they may be depended on.
Letter No. 74 was sent by collier to Port Said, where the mail will be
handed over to the Consul, and he will dispatch them to the staff, who
will forward them to the addresses--a lengthy procedure. A steamer has
arrived with provisions (the _Esperanza_).
On shore I saw a negro suffering from the so-called elephantiasis. His
legs were swollen, and were as thick as wooden posts. The disease only
attacks negroes and Malays.
I wonder what telegrams the admiral has received? A French torpedo-boat
brought some service telegrams, as well as private ones, from Mayung
(Mojanga). The former are, of course, in cipher. They are deciphering
them now.
My servant has just come to ask me to change his Russian money for
French money. I gave him five francs. There is very little foreign
money in the fleet, and great trouble in changing Russian. No decision
as to the fate of our fleet has been received from Petersburg. They are
silent--perhaps they are consulting.
Three officers have been discharged from the fleet: an ensign who went
mad, a lieutenant through illness, and the paymaster of the _Aurora_.
A court of inquiry has been appointed to survey the transports _Malay_
and _Kniaz Gortchakoff_, which are being sent to Russia. I am one of
the members. I wanted to go ashore to-morrow, but shall not be able,
owing to this inquiry. It is very trying, having to remain waiting the
decision of the fate of the fleet from Petersburg.
_December 30th._--I was unable to finish my letter yesterday, as I
was sent to the _Borodino_. I went there at twelve, midnight. An
unfortunate accident occurred. Two sailors went into the wing passage
and were suffocated, although the manhole was open. The closeness in
these passages is frightful--there is little air, and poisonous gases
accumulate. The sailors, in my opinion, became weak, could not lift
themselves up the ladder, fell, struck their heads on something, and
were suffocated. They wanted to make a post-mortem on the deceased, but
did not do so.
I passed the night in the _Borodino_, in the admiral's dining-cabin
on a sofa. At six I got up, having slept for two or three hours. They
provided me with a mat and a pillow. It was fearfully hot and stuffy,
although the doors and ports were open. The heat is unbearable. You are
always wet with perspiration. Yesterday I saw a case of sickness from
the heat. A writer was taken ill at night, though it was cooler then
than in the day.
A sailor in the _Suvaroff_ was also nearly suffocated in the wing
passage. Sunstrokes are frequent. I called this morning at the
_Suvaroff_, and was immediately sent on board the _Malay_ for the
inquiry. While there I was twice sent for by the admiral. He wrote a
severe order about the death of the two sailors in the _Borodino_.
He ordered me to add to this order some technical details. Taking
advantage of this, I toned the order down as much as I could in sending
it to be printed.
At four o'clock the dead sailors from the _Borodino_ were buried. The
admiral was present at the requiem service. Their bodies were taken in
a boat to the torpedo-boat _Bravy_. She took them further out to sea
and committed them to the deep. It was a sad ceremony. When the cutter
shoved off from the _Borodino_ with the bodies, they fired guns; the
band played the funeral march, "Kol Slaven." The officers and crews of
all the ships stood at "attention."
Phew! how stuffy! I can scarcely write. In the _Borodino_ I saw that
the officers, to escape the heat, slept on deck among the coal, like
the crew, undressed and dirty. The beds of the officers are only
distinguished from those of the crew by being mats. When I first saw
this sleeping company I could hardly believe my eyes.
What an unfortunate day it has been for the _Ural_! In the morning a
sailor had a sunstroke, and in the evening two officers, an ensign
and a lieutenant, were struck by the traveller of the Temperley,[5]
which had carried away. The ensign was killed on the spot--his chest
was crushed and his spine broken. There is still hope of saving the
lieutenant. He received a blow on the head, and fell down unconscious;
it may be he will pull through. It is a strange thing about this
lieutenant. He is a Black Sea officer, and has only just come to the
_Ural_. He was sent from the Black Sea at half an hour's notice to this
cruiser. You see many officers in the fleet, but his Black Sea cap (all
white with a peak) attracted the eye. He was on board the _Suvaroff_ an
hour before the accident. They induced him to remain; he was late for
his watch; but all the same, to his misfortune, he went to his ship.
When he came on board us he met some comrades, told them a lot about
the Black Sea fleet, abused it and its personnel. I was sitting near
and was an involuntary listener. His stories interested me. Abusing the
personnel, he related how three of his comrades with whom he lived made
an end of their lives. "See," he said, "I lived with four comrades,
and three of them have put an end to their lives, and something of the
same kind will happen to me." He said this about an hour before the
accident. For a few minutes before his departure I talked to him, and
he told me how he had come to the _Ural_.
There is a great talk in the wardroom now about the _Suvaroff_ being
forbidden communication with the shore, because a sailor was absent and
they made no attempt to find him. In every ship you must look out for
animals--parrots, monkeys, oxen, chicken, geese, chameleons, frogs,
pigs, and dogs; in a word, every sort is collected together. In one of
the ships they brought a snake in the hay for the cattle. It bit an
engineer in the breast, which swelled tremendously. They feared he
would die. Now he is all right; the swelling has subsided.
It is late; I must go and try to sleep. Haven't slept much for the last
two nights.
_December 31st._--There has been a great deal of talk about the sending
of money to Russia for the crew. It cannot be managed. New Year's Eve
is on us, but the days are so much alike that no one ever thought about
it up to the present time. The sailor who had sunstroke died, and after
death the temperature of his body was 43° R.
I had scarcely finished my letter when I had to go in the cutter to the
_Ural_. The _Ural_ is one of the steamers bought from the Germans. She
is very well finished. In the saloons are paintings, gilt and carved
decorations. She is very big.
I went below, and the requiem service began. I shall not forget it
soon. Here were joined luxury and poverty, elegance and squalor. The
church is the former first-class saloon, now the wardroom, turned into
a shrine. Eight large fans made a peculiar noise in quick time. A crowd
of officers were there, dressed in white. The choir sang almost a gay
chant--badly, but in tune; the priest helped them. During the pauses
the dull noise of the fans was clearly heard. There were sentries on
both sides of the coffin, which rested on a rude table, not covered
with anything. It was more like a box than coffin, and had been made
roughly out of pine boards, badly painted. The wood showed through the
paint in streaks. During the service they sewed the coffin up in white
calico. They could not find a whole piece, so added scraps. The wreaths
were composed of fresh flowers.
A sad spectacle. Apparently the ensign was not killed by the traveller,
but by the Temperley itself. After the service the coffin was lowered
into the boat by the very Temperley that wrought the accident. A
steam cutter towed the boat to the shore, and was followed by a long
line of boats, filled with the funeral party. When the coffin was
being lowered, they fired a gun, and all ships put their ensigns at
half-mast. The crews stood at "attention," and the band played the
funeral march.
Two bands awaited the procession on shore; they had accompanied the
other dead man. This was the sailor (from the same _Ural_) who died
from sunstroke. At the cemetery the funeral service was read, the
coffins lowered into the graves, and the escort fired three volleys.
Simple crosses were erected, and then all dispersed. They left behind
two Russians to lie in their graves, far from their fatherland, among
strangers, under simple white crosses with a crooked and uneven
superscription roughly carved on them. Little did they think that fate
would send them death far from Russia in a strange country, in the
midst of luxurious though foreign nature! Little did they think that
they would lie side by side--that both would be buried in the same
hour. Indeed, one cannot escape fate.
Another sailor has gone mad in the _Orel_.
But enough of this....
_January 1st._--I left the wardroom at four o'clock. Many remained and
occupied themselves in drinking. I returned on board the _Suvaroff_
yesterday, in the _Borodino's_ boat.
The population of Nosi Be is a mixed one. You may meet negroes, Malays,
Jews, Indians, and a few Europeans. Horses are scarce, and you travel
in litters borne on the shoulders of men.
There are numerous breeds of monkeys, parrots, lizards, crocodiles, etc.
Cattle are plentiful; the oxen have humps, and immense horns. Yesterday
a scene occurred with the oxen! When the funeral procession came up to
the cart, to which oxen were harnessed, the band was playing. The oxen
were frightened and ran wild. One tore himself away from the yoke and
charged the firing-party following the coffin, with lowered horns. A
catastrophe was narrowly averted. They soon succeeded in driving him
away. The other struggled for a long while in the yoke, and at last got
free.
Chosen officers are going from each ship to all the others with
congratulations. It is evident that they will return to their ships
late, and not quite themselves. They are treated generously, and
offence is taken if they drink too little.
A torpedo-boat has arrived from Mojanga with telegrams; some are cipher
telegrams from Petersburg--they have not yet read them. There is news
that the _Oleg_ passed through the Suez Canal on the 31st. If that is
so, she may arrive here on the 22nd inst.
Am just going round the ships.
_January 2nd._--The _Kuban_ has arrived. To-morrow I may go on board
her. I have journeyed somewhat to-day. After lunch I went to the
_Aurora_, _Nachimoff_, _Jemchug_, _Sissoi_, and _Voronej_. The latter
belongs to the volunteer fleet. On board her I procured a thousand
cigarettes for ten roubles. I was much pleased with this. In going
on board the _Aurora_ I lost the top of my helmet. It acted as a
ventilator, and cannot be replaced. I must go about without it.
Several of us, I among the number, have prickly heat. It is not very
disquieting, but at the same time does not afford any pleasure. In the
_Jemchug_, where I have not been since Libau, they did not recognise
me. I am so changed in face, owing to my beard.
We remain here, and know nothing of when and where we are going.
Probably we shall wait for the _Oleg_, _Isumrud_, and torpedo-boats.
Persistent rumours are floating about that the fleet will return.
Letters have been received from Sevastopol with very bad news. It is
said that the sailors there have mutinied and created much trouble.
They say there are serious disorders in Petersburg.
To-day I should have gone to some ships, but could not, as all the
boats were away for the exercise of landing parties. Finished my work,
"Notes on Ships of the _Borodino_ Type." Handed them into the office to
be typewritten. If it is true that we leave on the 6th or 7th, I shall
hardly be able to send them to Petersburg. Can it be that we shall not
wait for the _Oleg_ and other ships coming with her? That would be
idiotic! To stay quietly and strengthen the fleet does not interfere
with the cruisers and torpedo-boats.
_January 3rd._--What a day it has been! I scarcely got through
lunch when, at two o'clock, I went to the _Donskoi_, from there to
the _Borodino_, and then to the _Ural_. Have only just returned to
the _Suvaroff_, having had nothing to eat anywhere, and now only
bread-and-butter. It is a good thing I fortified myself with chocolate.
The _Ural_ is the former steamer _Queen Maria Theresa_. She ran between
Hamburg and America.
There are a lot of sick in the fleet; two belong to the staff, the flag
engineer and the flag intendant. The senior auditor is sick, but is
doing his duty. It is the fault of this climate.
_January 4th._--I have been to the _Kuban_, which was formerly a German
passenger steamer and ran across the Atlantic Ocean. She has all the
conveniences of life, is roomy and luxurious, but as a warship the
_Kuban_, like the other purchased ships, is useless. She has few guns;
their calibre is small, and there is no armoured protection. All is
wood.
More animals have made their appearance in the ship. They have brought
a hare, a porcupine, and a dog off from the shore. Wherever you look
now you see birds, beasts, or vermin. On deck oxen are standing ready
to be slaughtered for meat, to say nothing of fowls, geese, and ducks.
In the cabins are monkeys, parrots, and chameleons.
Having scratched you a letter, I went to put it with some postcards
into the box. At the post-office were crowds of people, hurrying to
post letters to catch the outgoing steamer. I scarcely waited to buy
stamps for the postcards. As stamps would stick together while being
kept, those having greater values are not covered with gum. This is
very inconvenient, as you have not always gum at hand. I had to buy
some gum-arabic in a shop. Indians are the principal shopkeepers here.
Boys in the street call out simple words of Russian, and frequently
repeat them. Profiting by the arrival of the fleet, everything is
dreadfully dear. They have never before done such a roaring trade.
One of the places here has a high-sounding name--"Parisian Café." The
landlord of this café says that after the departure of the fleet he
will close it and go to Paris. He will never earn more than now.
From the post-office I went to this café. They persuaded me to play
vint (Russian whist). Close by were a lot of officers playing macao.
They play very high (during our stay at Nosi Be one officer succeeded
in losing more than £400--_i.e._ 4000 roubles). I did not sit down
to play macao; but just trifled with it, lost sixty francs, and then
went to the quay. It was time--just six o'clock--and the boat was due
to shove off. By seven I was on board, having been on shore less than
four hours. On going into my cabin I learnt some news. We leave on the
7th. The post was sent by Günsburg. Whether we leave Madagascar on the
7th, or are only going to change our anchorage, I do not know. Either
is possible.
_January 5th._--I went on shore to-day. There was a large crowd around
the post-office, all Russians. Some were posting letters, others buying
stamps. I thought I would go into a café to get a drink. I asked for a
bottle of soda-water with ice, and squeezed a grenadine into it. For
this they charged four francs.
I left the café and went to the cemetery, where the Russians and other
Europeans were buried, and sat there awhile. It is a poor place, all
overgrown. The memorial crosses are the only white spots. Everything
is sunk, hidden by the tropical growth. It is almost a forest. Many
birds flutter about in the trees--some remarkably pretty, with rich
plumage of all colours. I saw a colibri there (the smallest bird in
the world). I used to think they were considerably smaller than they
actually are.
From the cemetery I returned to the post-office. My companion lost
all hope of posting his letter, so many were waiting their turn. I
persuaded him to remain, and we managed to do our business there. We
went to the quay, but the boat was not there. We had to wait, so, being
tormented by thirst, we went to the café. I drank a bottle of lemonade,
and my companion a bottle of beer, and it cost four francs. A bottle of
champagne costs forty francs--_i.e._ about fifteen roubles.
In every corner of the café officers from the fleet are sitting at
tables and playing cards, vint and macao. At three tables macao was
being played for heavy stakes. French officers from the torpedo gunboat
looked on in astonishment. I did not play.
Several men obtained riding-horses and mules--tired, broken, and
lean beasts. A large number of officers from the _Borodino_ walked
through a virgin forest, forcing their way through the lianas. They
made themselves very dirty. Two officers from the _Suvaroff_ went out
shooting, but bagged nothing. At seven o'clock I returned on board,
fairly tired, having walked nearly all day.
_January 6th._--Although I was tired, I went to bed last night at
twelve. It rained all night. This cooled our hot sides, which do not
generally grow cool during the night.
Now there are constant rain squalls. There was mass, prayers, and the
blessing of the water to-day. The priest made a procession to sprinkle
the ensign and the jack.[6] There was chicken pie for lunch, but a very
inferior one. The French torpedo-boat again brought official telegrams.
They have not yet been deciphered: perhaps they contain something
interesting.
_January 7th._--Yesterday a steam cutter from the _Donskoi_ went
aground. They got her off to-day.
A native came and complained that a boat from the fleet had sunk his
catamaran (native boat), in which was a case of champagne, a case of
rum, and a box of lemons. He was probably indemnified.
I had just sat down to write when I was required to go on board the
_Jemchug_. Just returned.
The ladies' committee of the "Society to help the Wounded" sent the
admiral the ikon of St. George "the Victorious," and fifty small
crosses for the officers and crew. I received a cross and hung it to a
chain with my own. It is very pretty, and made of mother-of-pearl.
The rainy season, which should have begun a fortnight ago, was late. It
has now begun--another pleasure for us.
Many of the wardroom tumblers are broken. They cannot be bought here.
Jam-pots are used instead.
It is difficult to imagine how the local traders live. They have raised
all prices considerably, and continue to raise them.
The provision-ship _Esperanza_ will no longer accompany the fleet. I
wanted to go ashore at 6 a.m. to-morrow with some one, to explore the
interior of the island; but it is impossible. An inquiry is to be held
in the _Malay_ to survey the coal left in her. I have to take a part in
this inquiry.
Again there are rumours that the fleet will leave here on the 11th.
I think this is only supposition. The French mail-steamer leaves for
Europe on the 9th. Perhaps this letter will be the last that will go in
her. There will then be a break in my letters. Steamers do not often
call here--only once or twice a month.
Some chameleons were brought on board, and have now spread all over
the ship. They are harmless; but to me, at all events, they are
repulsive. Some fellows take them in their hands and allow them to
crawl over their heads and faces.
_January 8th._--Since 4 a.m. there has been such a downpour, difficult
to imagine if you have not seen it. Many men, desiring to wash in fresh
water, took advantage of the rain to go on deck with a piece of soap
and wash themselves.
At this blessed moment I have to go to the inquiry in the _Malay_.
While I was standing at a closed hatchway on deck, waiting for the
captain of the _Malay_, a man was wandering about in white uniform,
barefooted and capless. I paid no attention to him. Suddenly he
approached me and stretched out his hand. I hesitated, thinking he was
a drunken sailor playing a joke. "I knew you very well long ago. I am
Titoff," he said. Then I guessed that this was the mad ensign from the
battleship _Orel_. I shook hands with him, and said that I had not
recognised him because he had grown a beard, although in deed it was
only of two or three days' growth. He began to laugh, asked me if I
feared Death, and had I seen him; and, pointing all round, he said,
"This is all Russia," etc. They were not very pleasant minutes that I
spent in his company. It was sad to see him. He walks about the dirty
deck half undressed. He does what he likes. He may fall overboard, or
fall down a hatchway, or slip from a ladder--no one looks after him. A
melancholy spectacle!
I returned to the _Suvaroff_ from the _Malay_ at twelve o'clock. I was
hot and tired. Now the sun's rays are nearly vertical. I wetted my
head with salt water and put a wet handkerchief in my cap. The leather
of my boots burnt my feet. I found a letter from the captain of the
_Jemchug_ awaiting me. I must go there and to the _Donskoi_. I am tired
of going to the latter; I have to go there nearly every day. I lunched
in my cabin. The orderly who waited on me said, "I have brought you a
beetle."[7] I did not understand at first what he meant. Apparently
it was a block of wood to put under the feet when sitting at the
writing-table.
6 p.m.--Have been to the _Gortchakoff_, _Borodino_, _Donskoi_, and
_Jemchug_. In the latter they are also using jam-pots as tumblers. It
is a wearisome cruise. Officers and men have so many inconveniences and
discomforts to bear.
A fine company are collected in the _Malay_ to go back to Russia--the
sick, prisoners, men dismissed from the service, lunatics, and
drunkards. The captain has already reported that they do not obey
him--abuse and threaten to kill him. Their conduct is defiant, and they
will not submit to any orders. If they do not send a trusty guard he
will always have to carry a loaded revolver, and shoot the first one
who disobeys. In this steamer a strong and firm captain is required in
order to reach a Russian port in safety with such a crew.
A court for trying offences during the voyage was appointed to the
fleet. To-day this court assembled to try a sailor of the _Suvaroff_.
He had abused the chief boatswain, threatened, and disobeyed the orders
of the first lieutenant. He was sentenced to three and a half years in
a disciplinary battalion. Probably he will be sent to Russia in the
_Malay_.
_January 9th._--The foreboding about the _Malay_ is beginning to be
justified. Last night an armed crew had to be sent to arrest the
mutineers. They arrested four of the _Malay's_ hired crew. These have
been divided among the battleships, in order that they may be put in
cells. The most insolent is on board the _Suvaroff_. The appearance of
the armed crew in the _Malay_ produced a great sensation. The rest of
her crew instantly quieted down. They evidently had not expected the
matter to end in this sad way.
After those arrested have done some days in cells, it has been decided
to put them on shore and abandon them to the dictates of fate. To be
in cells on board the _Borodino_ is tolerable, but in the _Suvaroff_,
"God forbid!" The temperature there is fearful, and there is no
ventilation. I do not think that a man could remain there long. Among
the four prisoners one only is the ringleader. It is he who is in the
_Suvaroff_. One of them actually cried. To be cast upon a nearly desert
shore! What will they do? There is no employment for them, and they
lack the means of getting away. Could they join the foreign legion? It
is not here, now that this place is unimportant.
I have not told you what the foreign legion is. The French Government
only enlists foreigners in it. It is stationed in wild places in the
colonies where the population is unsettled. Desperate men, criminals,
escaped convicts, and adventurers serve in it. On entering it they do
not ask for passports, nor do they inquire into antecedents. In it
are to be met representatives of every nation and of every grade of
society. Its ranks consist of common soldiers, aristocrats, officers,
and hawkers. Discipline in the legion is very strict in order to
keep this rabble in submission. There are said to be many Russians in
it. The legion was stationed in Madagascar for a long time, but the
French transferred it to some other place. Now they regret this, and
have brought the legion back, because it required so large a force of
ordinary troops to cope with the natives. The foreign legion alone
could deal with them. I suppose it dealt harshly and savagely with
the natives, killing, robbing them, and burning their villages for
every offence, real or imaginary. Owing to this the settlements were
peaceful, and dared not rise against the French.
_January 10th._--In the wardroom of the _Suvaroff_ there is a piano on
which they play with the help of a pianola. There are very few who play
the piano. To-day a sub-lieutenant came on board from another ship. He
proved to be a splendid musician. For a long time they listened to his
playing. Then they started capering and playing tricks. It was curious
to see officers dancing the cake walk and the Kamarinsky (a Russian
national dance), etc. They dressed up for these dances. They did this
from sheer boredom. This wearisome and monotonous cruise has lasted so
long. On the 16th the fleet will have been kicking their heels here
for a month. No wonder they are silly from stagnation. Here is another
of their amusements--they bait the dogs, and every one eagerly watches,
applauding the fighting curs.
There are many suspicious characters in Madagascar. One appeared at
Nosi Be, speaking Russian. He offered his services as contractor to
supply provisions for the _Suvaroff_ and other ships. This person
roamed about in Tamatave, and now without any apparent cause has come
here. He is very badly dressed and has long hair like a Slav woman.
The mail-steamer left to-night for Europe. From Mayung cipher telegrams
have been received. Perhaps they again tell us nothing useful. The
situation of the fleet is most unsettled. Will it return to Russia,
will it remain somewhere here, or will it go to the East? No one knows.
This uncertainty oppresses me as well as others.
Bad meat is daily thrown overboard in the _Esperanza_. Food for the
sharks is abundant. They have collected in great numbers at Nosi Be.
Nearly all the ships keep oxen on deck. There is even a cow and a calf
on board the _Suvaroff_. They have built them a manger. The crew look
after them with special fondness, feeding them with bread and giving
them names.
It is a curious sight, watching these animals being brought on board.
They come tied up in boats, and are generally hoisted into the ship
by means of a strop (loop of rope) tied under their bodies. For some
reason, on board the _Suvaroff_ they are dragged up by the horns. The
frightened animals, with wild and glaring eyes, struggle violently,
hanging in mid-air. They lie down on deck at first, half crazy, and
then suddenly jump on their feet and toss themselves about. They are
then held and pacified.
It was quite different with the cow. She tore herself loose and
galloped frantically about the deck. All the spectators fled wherever
they could. She charged at the deck-house, where an officer was sitting
writing. He had hardly time to shut and lock the door. Somehow or other
they caught the cow, but her milk supply has ceased, owing to fright,
and the calf is still young. They now feed him on condensed milk. We
wonder if the milk will come back to the cow. We are all interested
in the matter, and discuss it freely. Life on board is so dreary,
dull, and monotonous, that the most paltry trifles, which we would
never dream of talking about on shore, become a ceaseless topic of
conversation. If we only could get quickly out of this mire!
_January 11th._--Heat, stuffiness, damp, dirt--everywhere beastliness,
deadly gloom, uncertainty of the near future, lack of news from the
seat of war, oppress and overwhelm us; but can incompetence reigning
everywhere, laziness, stupidity, ignorance, unwillingness to work,
listlessness, make us cheerful? What goes on here is perfectly
incredible.
There is news that the Hamburg-American liner _Bengal_ sank near the
southern coast of Madagascar, having ripped her bottom on a sunken
rock. She was a large 18,000-ton steamer, and was bringing coal for the
fleet. Her crew were saved.
A deplorably sad and stupid incident occurred in the _Nachimoff_
yesterday. Ships having no bakery on board obtain their bread, when at
anchorage, from other ships or from the shore. They did not trouble
about the matter in the _Nachimoff_. The crew were living on rusks.
Yesterday they demanded fresh bread. The affair spread, and the men
offered passive resistance by not dismissing after prayers, though
ordered to do so. There is now to be an inquiry. At other times and
under other conditions some of the crew would have been distributed
among the other ships, and some would have been shot--there would have
been no other alternative. Now they are trying to hush the matter up.
In spite of this, some will suffer.
One of the _Malay_ prisoners who was in cells in the _Alexander_ has
been sent to the hospital-ship _Orel_, as he fell ill from the hot
temperature in his prison.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] An apparatus for hoisting coal in bags out of colliers into the
ships.
[6] A small flag flown in the bow of the ship when at anchor.
[7] An implement used by washerwomen.