O-HANA-SAN'S PARTY.
O-Hana-San was to give a party. She announced the fact with pride to her
schoolmates, who, with the frankness peculiar to childhood, eagerly
demanded invitations. Had they been older, they would have called on the
lady who was to entertain, and, after flattering her and making their
personal regard for her as prominent as possible, would have brought the
conversation round to the party, in order to show that they knew all
about it and of course should expect an invitation. Being little girls,
they just said, one and all, "Oh, do ask me to come, Hana!"
Miss Blossom (for that is the English equivalent for her name)
considered.
"I can only invite twelve," she finally announced. "Twelve girls," she
concluded, with a sigh; "no boys."
"Why not?" demanded one of the larger boys, pushing forward. "You must
ask me, anyway, Hana!"
O-Hana-San shook her head. "It is not permitted," she said. "I cannot
invite you, Oto Owari. Only girls--no boys."
It was after school-hours. The children had been summoned to their tasks
by a drum-beat, and at noon they had marched out of the schoolhouse, in
orderly fashion, the boys in one division, girls in another. Once beyond
the school limits, the two divisions became mixed. O-Hana-San was only
nine years old, and Oto, being fifteen (this was about a dozen years
before the building of the _Retvizan_ and the cruise of the _Osprey_)
considered that he did her great honour in applying for an invitation to
her party. He scowled, at her refusal, and turned away abruptly.
"Come, Oshima," said he, to a comrade a little younger than himself,
"let's go down to the shore." When Oto was disturbed in his mind he
always wanted to "go down to the shore."
The town where he lived was on the west coast of one of the northern
provinces of Nippon, the principal island of the group comprising the
Japanese Empire. Oto was the son of one of the leading men of the place.
He was a bright, earnest boy, and often, after he had been listening to
the talk of his elders, he would gaze across the sea toward that
mysterious country Korea, which he had heard his father say was "a
dagger, aimed at the heart of Japan." He longed to fight for the
Empire, which he adored with all the passionate worship of the true
Japanese. He was an adept at seamanship, in a small way, before he was
fourteen; perfectly at home in the water or on it; and possessed with an
ardent ambition to join the navy which his country was then building up
in wonderful new ways, taught by the pale-faced folk of the other
hemisphere. His father could give him but little hope of attaining his
wishes, for he could not let the lad serve as a common sailor, nor could
he afford to give him the higher education necessary for an officer.
Oto's boon companion since childhood was Oshima, the son of a rich
family who occupied a handsome villa on the outskirts of the town.
Oshima's grandfather had been one of the famous _Samurai_, who carried
two swords. When the edict had gone forth suppressing the order, or
depriving it of its essential characteristics, he had joined a band of
Samurai who refused to obey the imperial command, and in a fight which
followed he had lost his life. Oshima's father was a peaceful man who
cared little for war, but the boy himself had inherited his
grandfather's love of battle, and made up his mind to enter the army.
The two boys talked with each other of their plans and hopes, often and
earnestly.
By the time the lads had reached the rocky shore just north of the
village, they had forgotten all about little Blossom and her party.
O-Hana-San was a great favourite with Oto, it is true, but when once the
topic of the navy was raised, all other thoughts fled to the winds.
"Let us swim," said Oshima at length, when several prospective battles
had been fought out, on sea and land. "I'm as warm as if I had been
marching from Fusan to Seoul--where I shall march some day."
"Go you and swim if you want to," replied Oto. "I have a plan here to
work out, for manoeuvring a battle-ship in the face of the enemy, with
the tide setting out from land, and----"
"Oh, bother your tides!" laughed Oshima. "Here goes for a dip into them.
I'll come out in ten minutes."
He was soon in the water at a good distance from shore, gamboling like a
porpoise, swimming on his back, treading, and performing all sorts of
antics.
Oto had drawn a piece of paper from his pocket and was absorbed in
tracing a diagram of a sea-fight. After a while he glanced up
carelessly; then he sprang to his feet with a wild cry.
"Come in! come in, Oshima! Quick! There's a shark after you!"
At first Oshima did not understand; but he saw the other's gesture, and
looked over his shoulder. There, not a hundred yards away, was the
dreaded black fin, glistening in the afternoon sun, drifting rapidly
toward him like the sail of a child's toy-boat.
The swimmer struck out for the shore with all his might. He was in a
little bay, and Oto, springing down headlong over the rocks, perceived
that his friend was a little nearer the southern point of land than the
central beach from which he had started.
"Make for the point--the point!" he shrieked, gesticulating wildly.
Oshima veered to the right, and the black fin followed. Oto plunged into
the sea and swam straight toward the shark. There was no more shouting
now; only two dark heads bobbing in the waves, and the little black sail
dancing toward them.
Oshima now began to beat the water with his hands, making a tremendous
splashing. The great fish, startled by the commotion, paused, and the
ugly fin seemed irresolute. Oshima was now swimming more slowly. Younger
than Oto, and far less robust, he was becoming exhausted. Every moment
he expected to feel the clutch of those terrible jaws. He struck out
madly, but made little progress.
The shark, meanwhile, made up his mind. The new morsel was coming
directly toward him, while the first seemed in a fair way of escaping to
shallow water if not to the land itself. The monster, with a twist of
his tail, turned again and made for Oto, though not very rapidly, for
the splashing made the fish wary.
At last the critical moment came. Oto had heard an old pearl-fisher tell
of many a battle with the man-eating sharks of the Pacific. As the huge
creature began to turn, to seize his prey, the black fin disappeared.
Quick as a flash Oto doubled himself in the water and dived. A moment
later a red stain dyed the surface of the sea. The boy had drawn a sharp
dagger from his belt and stabbed upward as his assailant passed over
him.
There was no more battle. The shark had enough of Oto and fled for the
depths of the ocean while his victor, watching sharply for his late foe,
made his way ashore as swiftly as possible. He found Oshima stretched
upon the sand, uninjured but almost unconscious from fright and
exhaustion.
It was this incident, the self-forgetful valour of his son's friend,
saving the former's life at the peril of his own, that led Oshima's
father, a few days afterward, to make the offer that changed the boy's
whole life. He proposed to the elder Owari to send Oto at his own
expense to any naval school in the world, and educate him for the
Japanese navy. Oto chose the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis,
as we have seen, and graduated with honour, resigning only to accept a
post under his own Emperor.
Oshima meanwhile pursued his studies at the Military Institute in
Yokohama, and received in due time his appointment as sub-lieutenant in
the Japanese army. Entrusted with an important secret mission a few
years later the two comrades went to America, performed their duties
faithfully, and, in pursuance of direct orders from high authority,
concealed their identity by returning as cabin stewards; the men of the
_Osprey_ little dreaming that the meek, gentle "boys" whom they ordered
to and fro on menial errands were officers, older and of higher rank
than themselves, in the Imperial Army and Navy of Japan.
Thus the party of little O-Hana-San led to important results; for had
not Oto applied to her for an invitation, and gone off to the shore
sulking because of her refusal, Oshima would not have had his eventful
swim, the shark would not have been disappointed in a meal, Oshima's
father would not have felt the impulse of gratitude which influenced him
to bestow a naval education upon his neighbour's son; in short the
_Retvizan's_ plans would never have been laid before the naval secret
service authorities of Tokio, nor, in all likelihood, would Dave Rexdale
have been so well served, in the absence of his two faithful Japanese
stewards, on the outward cruise of the _Osprey_!
As for O-Hana-San, she had her party, and a gay one it was, as gaiety
was reckoned in those parts. The little hostess duly sent out her
invitations, and received her guests with all formality. Her dark,
glossy hair was drawn back, raised in front, and gathered into a double
loop, in which a scarlet bit of scarf was coquettishly twisted. She wore
a blue flowered silk kimono, with sleeves touching the ground; a blue
girdle lined with scarlet; and a fold of the scarlet scarf lay between
her neck and the kimono. On her little feet were white _tabi_, socks of
cotton cloth, with a separate place for the great toe (which was a very
small one, nevertheless), so as to allow the scarlet-covered thongs of
the finely lacquered clogs, which she wore while she stood on the steps
to receive her guests and afterward removed, to pass between it and the
smaller toes. All the other diminutive ladies were dressed in the same
style, and, truth to say, looked like a company of rather expensive
little dolls.
Well, when they were all assembled, she and her graceful mother,
squatting before each, presented tea and sweetmeats on lacquer trays;
and then they played at quiet and polite little games until dusk, when
the party broke up, and O-Hara-San (Spring), O-Yuki-San (Snow),
O-Kiku-San (Chrysanthemum), and the rest bobbed nice little bows and
said, quite after the fashion of their elders, that "they had had _such_
a nice time," and went home.
In the years that followed, O-Hana-San, the Blossom and the prettiest
girl in the town, had but little chance to invite Oto to her parties,
nor could the gallant young Japanese take her to the Academy hops; but
he wrote to her constantly, and now, as the _Osprey_ cut the waters of
the Indian Ocean with her snowy stem, he thought of the dark-eyed
Blossom in the far-off little village of Nippon; and, as he tripped to
and from the pantry, and returned with delicacies for the cabin table,
balancing himself gracefully against the rolling and pitching of the
vessel, wondered how soon he should stand before her on the quarter-deck
of his own ship, clad in the brilliant uniform of his rank. As for
Oshima, he had been waiting eleven years for a good chance to give his
life for Oto!