ON BOARD THE "KUSHIRO."
After the fall of Port Arthur came a lull in the operations of both
sides, at sea and on land. The Russians were still busy entrenching
themselves in and south of Mukden, the ancient Manchurian capital. Here
Kouropatkin had made his stand after the disastrous defeat at Liaoyang.
Immensely strong works were thrown up, the defensive front made
apparently impregnable, and St. Petersburg breathed more freely,
although various indications of internal disorders gave the court
concern.
Oyama's men, meanwhile, prepared themselves as best they might for a
winter campaign. They burrowed in the hillsides and lived in dug-outs
and shanties almost within pistol shot of the Russian outposts. Supplies
of food and heavy clothing reached the army by the Yalu River and from
Newchwang over the railway to Liaoyang, whence they were forwarded in
waggons to the front. Oshima shared a small mud hut with two other line
officers. His men cheerily cooked their rations of rice over little
fires in front of their dug-outs. The scene would have resembled Valley
Forge, but that the troops were well clothed and under absolute
discipline.
On October 2nd, Kouropatkin had issued a proclamation declaring that the
period of retreats was over. "The army is now strong enough to advance
and compel the Japanese to do our will." This was the last effort to
relieve Port Arthur--a "forlorn hope" indeed. A battle ensued, the
carnage and desperate valour of which even exceeded those of Liaoyang.
The Russian losses alone were nearly seventy thousand, killed and
wounded. After ten days of terrific fighting they were forced back to
the Hun River, where they held their own and settled down for the
winter, with the Japanese facing them.
The Baltic fleet, under Vice-Admiral Rojestvensky, after the Dogger Bank
affair, resumed its voyage southward. It rounded the Cape of Good Hope
safely and proceeded to Nossi Bé, a port at the northern end of
Madagascar, where it was welcomed by the French with as much cordiality
as they dared to show their natural allies, without open breach of
neutrality. Here the vice-admiral spent many weeks, cleaning,
provisioning, and coaling his ships and drilling his crews.
A second squadron of ships, meanwhile, started from the Baltic for the
East, by way of the Mediterranean and the Suez Canal, followed by still
a third division. No one, outside the inner circle of the Russian
Admiralty and War Office, knew where these three squadrons were to
unite. Their port of destination, after the capture of Port Arthur,
could, of course, be no other than Vladivostock, where two powerful
cruisers, disabled by Togo in August, had been repaired, and, with a few
smaller craft, still formed the nucleus of a fleet.
Commander Oto Owari had hastened at once to Tokio, on his unexpected
return from the North Sea, where his strategic attack upon the Baltic
ships had so signally failed. He was acquitted of blame, by a court of
enquiry, and was at once given the command of the torpedo-boat destroyer
_Kushiro_, then fitting for service in the Sasebo docks.
At this time O-Hana-San was a nurse in the military hospital at
Hiroshima. She knew of Oto's appointment and, if the truth be told,
dreaded the time when the _Kushiro_ should be put in commission. One day
early in March she wrote to her old playmate that she and another nurse
were to have a few days' leave of absence, and that one of the hospital
surgeons, with his wife, was to take them on an excursion to Sasebo to
see the navy yard--a privilege not often accorded, save to those in the
service. Oto was delighted with the prospect of seeing Miss Blossom,
and replied at once, inviting the whole party to inspect the _Kushiro_
and lunch with him on board; an invitation which was immediately
accepted.
It was a bright, cool day when the little nurses, wearing the scarlet
cross on their arms, traversed a great paved square in the navy yard
under escort of the good surgeon and his wife (also a nurse), and
enquired where the _Kushiro_ was lying. The marine who had been
questioned pointed out the three black funnels of the destroyer, and the
commander himself met the visitors at the gang-plank. The greetings
between himself and Hana were full of courtesy and entirely free from
any display of sentiment. When the two pairs of dark eyes met for an
instant, however, Miss Blossom dropped hers immediately and her cheeks
showed a warmer brown than usual. Oto led the way to his cabin and at
once offered refreshments to his guests. It was a cosy little place,
with its bunk, wardrobe, writing-table and book-case, and a tiny
connecting bathroom about four feet square.
The party now went on deck and to their amazement found that the boat
was moving swiftly through the harbour toward the sea.
"It is a little surprise I planned for you," explained the gallant
commander. "We were to make a short trial cruise of eighteen or twenty
miles at about this time, and as the water is smooth to-day I thought
you would enjoy the excursion."
It is needless to say that after the first sensation of fear the guests
were delighted, and even the timid nurses soon stood on the
quarter-deck, surveying the scene and drinking in the cool sea-breeze
with quiet happiness.
On a platform just in front of them was a six-pounder rifle, fairly
dazzling their eyes, so beautifully was it polished. Behind them was a
screen, sheltering the "after steering position."
Farther forward were the great "nostrils" of the boat, the
torpedo-tubes, and alongside them was a hatch which led to the chief
petty-officers' mess-room--a very small apartment, clean and shining
with constant scrubbing. No one can appreciate neatness better than a
hospital nurse, and Hana and her friends were loud in their praises of
the condition of these hidden niches in the vessel.
Going farther forward and looking down another hatch they saw the ship's
cook in his galley, hard at work preparing dinner. Here also was a
dynamo for supplying electricity for the search-light, which was placed
between the engine-room hatches on deck.
"How many men are there on board, Captain?" asked the surgeon.
"Our complement is fifty-two," replied Oto.
"How can they ever find room to sleep!" exclaimed Hana.
"Well, there's not much room to spare," laughed the commander, who
seemed very happy. "Some sling their hammocks and others sleep on the
lockers. We shall seldom take a long cruise, like those of the larger
ships. Here is a collapsible boat," he added. "We have two, you see, one
each side. They are hoisted out by that derrick on the mast, and if we
had to abandon ship they would take seventeen men each, as well as
provisions and water."
"What is this deck covered with, sir?"
"A kind of linoleum. It is found to answer our purpose much better than
wood, and is used also in regular torpedo boats. Here, by the way, are
our two six-pounder guns: these and the twelve-pounder up there
constitute our bow fire, to be used when we are in chase of an enemy."
O-Hana-San shuddered, but said nothing.
"How large is this ship?" enquired the medical man, who was bent on
acquiring statistics.
"About two hundred feet long, and twenty feet beam. She draws about six.
Here is our conning-tower, with half-inch steel armour on it. We can
steer from here, and in bad weather we have to, as one would be washed
off the bridge."
The diminutive Japanese ladies peered inside. There was just room for
two people to stand up, in the tower, and it was fitted with a compass,
steering-wheel, telegraph to the engine-room, and voice-pipes to the
torpedo tubes and various other parts of the ship.
"Only half an inch thick?" queried the surgeon, examining the armour
plates. "How thick, then, is the ship's side?"
"Oh," said Oto, with a smile, "about an eighth of an inch. It's just as
good as a foot, unless a shell strikes it. Will you step down here?" he
added, leading the way to a lower deck.
The surgeon and the ladies tiptoed daintily down the short ladder, and
found themselves in a long, low-ceiled room, with a table running along
the centre, fore-and-aft, and two rows of lockers along the sides.
"This is the mess-deck of the sailors--the 'Jackies,' Americans call
them," explained the commander, who of course, like every one else on
board, spoke only in Japanese. "We are now under the turtle-backed
forecastle-deck, you see."
A few men were down here, one stitching canvas, another mending his
clothes, one writing a letter, and one stretched out, fast asleep.
"About twenty men live down here," added Oto. "These are their hammocks,
and that is the capstan engine." He pointed above his head as he spoke.
"There are storerooms under our feet," he continued, "where we keep the
explosive war-heads for the torpedoes. We have two eighteen-inch
torpedoes carried, without the heads, in the tubes themselves. Now,
shall we go up to the fore-bridge?"
The surgeon, who had gazed with something of dismay at the deck which
concealed such terrible munitions, mounted the ladder with alacrity,
followed by his wife and her friends.
All five now stood beside the great twelve-pounder. The _Kushiro_ was
well out of the harbour and standing directly toward the Chinese coast.
To the north-east the mountains of Korea could be dimly discerned, like
blue shadows on the horizon. The ship was moving so smoothly through the
water that it seemed impossible that she was slipping along at the rate
of nearly twenty-four knots an hour, as the quartermaster stated, in
reply to a question from Oto. The only indication of her speed was the
fountain of spray rising at the sharp, straight stern, and sparkling
with rainbow hues in the flashing sunshine.
At this moment a petty officer approached the commander, touched his
cap, and said something which the others did not hear. Oto caught up a
pair of binoculars and peered intently through them at a low line of
smoke ahead and a little to the north of the _Kushiro's_ course. After
a moment he put down the glasses.
"Port half a point" he said quietly.
"Port half a point, sir," repeated the quartermaster.
After a minute, "Steady!"
"Steady, sir."
"I think it is an American war-ship," remarked Oto pleasantly, turning
to his guests. "We shall run down near her, that you may see how the
foreigner looks. I--I am quite familiar with the American ships myself."
The commander and O-Hana-San exchanged a swift glance of understanding,
but no further allusion was made to Oto Owari's former experience, of
which the little Red-Cross nurse was well aware.
"Ah," exclaimed the surgeon, drawing a long breath of delight as he
looked out over the sparkling waters of the Yellow Sea, "I could almost
wish to change places with you, Captain! This is delicious, after the
atmosphere of the hospital, the sound of groans, the odour of
antiseptics and anæsthetics! I do not wonder that you chose the navy for
your calling."
"Well, well," said Oto, with his gentle laugh, "it does seem pleasant
now, especially [here he bowed gracefully] in such exalted society. But
come out on a cold, wet night in January, when a heavy sea is running,
and you have to hang on to the rails of the twelve-pounder, here, to
prevent yourself being carried off your feet; when the waves come
pouring over the turtle-back and flood the upper deck; when you're
soaked to the skin, and shivering, and thinking of--of [he glanced at
Blossom] thousands on shore, snug and warm and fast asleep; when the
blinding spray and sleet are lashing your face like whipcord, so you can
hardly open your eyes to see the lights of the vessel you are watching
ahead; and when everything down below in the wardroom is sliding about
on the deck--well, I think a comfortable, dry room in the hospital would
seem rather more attractive than the bridge of the _Kushiro_!"
The girls smiled at his eloquence, but O-Hana-San looked troubled, and
her slim brown hand shook a little as she turned to accept her old
friend's invitation to inspect the engine-room.
"I'm sorry," said Oto, "that we're going only two hundred and eighty
revolutions now. You should see them at three hundred and fifty, with
forced draft!"
The engine-room was hot and oily, and not even the fascinating sight of
the bright steel rods flashing up and down and the cranks whirring at
the rate of four revolutions a second--a mere mist of metal--could long
detain the party. They were rather glad, it must be confessed, when a
hail from the deck sent the commander flying up the ladder and the rest
could follow, holding their garments carefully aloof from the glistening
metal work.
On their reaching the deck a glorious sight met their gaze. About half a
mile away was a war-ship, white as snow, coming toward them. The
beautiful stars and stripes blew out over her taffrail, and a string of
flags fluttered from her yard-arm. The signalman was just sending up an
answer on the _Kushiro_.
"It is the United States gunboat _Osprey_," said Commander Oto, with
unusual excitement in his voice, and a glow on his olive cheeks. "We
have invited her commander to come on board, and he has graciously
consented to do so, although his ship is of a larger class than mine,
knowing that a Japanese officer is forbidden to leave his ship at sea,
on any pretence, in war time. See, they are lowering a boat!"
The _Kushiro_ had already stopped her engines, and the _Osprey_, which
had slowed down several minutes before, now followed her example. The
two vessels slowly approached each other until they were but a few
hundred yards apart.
A boat was now seen leaving the American, and the destroyer's side was
manned by jackies to receive the visitor with naval honours. In five
minutes the boat was alongside, and Dave Rexdale sprang up the steps to
the deck of the _Kushiro_. Oto was awaiting him, and with a smile that
showed the flash of his dark eyes and white teeth, held out his hand to
the American officer.
"Welcome, sir," he said, in good English. "I am glad to see you again,
and on the deck of my own ship."
Dave stared a moment, then darted forward and wrung the hand of the
elegantly uniformed commander, in whom he recognised his former steward.
"Oto!" he exclaimed.
"Commander Oto Owari, of His Imperial Majesty's Navy," said the
Japanese, returning the other's cordial grasp. "Permit me to present you
to these ladies, who do not speak English, but for whom and yourself I
shall be glad to act as interpreter."
Well, Commander Rexdale made his most gallant speeches to the blushing
little nurses, who in turn murmured their earnest desire to break their
bones and knock their heads abjectly in his august presence.
Introduction to the surgeon and the officers of the ship followed.
"I had my suspicions, when you pointed that gun," laughed Dave, turning
again to Oto. "And when the torpedo-boat carried you off so neatly----"
But here Oto interrupted with a significant glance toward his
subordinates, showing that he did not care to have all the events of
that voyage made public.
With true Japanese hospitality he begged Rexdale to remain and join the
party at luncheon; but Dave could not leave his own ship so long, and
after a few minutes' conversation was obliged to leave. He explained
that the _Osprey_ had been docked at Cavite during the winter; then
detailed to her old station as guardship at Chemulpo, whence she was now
on her way to Shanghai.
"I suppose you heard this morning's news?" he said carelessly, as he
stepped to the gangway.
"What news?" asked Oto, with a keen look.
"Rojestvensky's ships have been sighted, about half-way between Chagos
and Singapore, steaming east at full speed," said Dave, in a lower tone.
"It looks as if he were going to try the Strait of Malacca. Forty-two
vessels reported, including transports and colliers. Good-bye!"
The blue-jackets of the _Kushiro_, at the instigation of her executive,
gave the departing visitors three cheers as the men let fall their oars.
Sam Bolles and Dick Scupp, who happened to be in the boat's crew,
stared, with open mouths, at the Japanese commander, who nodded to them
in a friendly way. A few minutes later the foam gathered under the
_Osprey's_ bows as she bore off toward China, and the _Kushiro_, making
a graceful turn, headed toward Nagasaki, both vessels dipping their
colours in salute.
The news which he had heard affected Oto deeply, but he let no sign of
his emotions appear to diminish his courteous hospitality to his guests.
They dined in the officers' mess-room, the captain's cabin being too
small for the purpose. Everything passed off happily and gaily.
"Going into the harbour, sir," reported a boatswain to the commander, as
the repast was finished.
In a few minutes the _Kushiro_ approached her dock and made a near
landing. Oto bade the visitors farewell. O-Hana-San, drawn by something
in his dark eyes, lingered just a moment, as he took her hand in his
own.
"When you hear from me again," he whispered, "I shall have been in
action. The Russian fleet is close at hand, and we may be ordered south
before morning. Farewell, O-Hana-San!"
"Oto! Oto! _Sayonara!_"