Meanwhile, daylight had come. The signal: "Stop at once!" was flying at
our foremast. When this demand was not complied with after a reasonable
time, we fired a blind shell, and when this also failed to have the
desired effect, we sent a quick reminder in the form of a couple of
sharp shots after her. The fleeing ship could no longer hope to reach
the neutral waters of Japan. When our shots fell into the water close
beside her, she stopped, turned, and set the Russian colors in all her
topmasts. So, on the very first night after the war had begun, we had
taken our first prize. It was the Russian volunteer steamer _Rjesan_.
In time of peace she had plied as a passenger steamer between Shanghai
and Vladivostok. She was now to be armed with guns and to serve as an
auxiliary cruiser. She was a speedy and very new ship, built in the
German ship yards of Schichau.
In the sea that was running, the _Emden_ and her prize rolled badly.
It was therefore no easy matter to get the cutter, that was to carry
the prize crew from the _Emden_ to the _Rjesan_, into the water. There
was danger that it would be pounded to pieces against the sides of the
ships. However, everything passed off satisfactorily. In a short time
we saw the officer of the prize crew, followed by a number of men, all
armed with pistols, climbing up the gangway ladder. The Russian flag
was hauled down, and in its place the German colors were run up.
As the steamer was one that could serve our own purposes excellently
well--she could be transformed into a very good German auxiliary
cruiser--our commander decided not to destroy her, but instead to
take her to Tsingtao. At a speed of fifteen miles we made our way
southward. Behind us, in our wake, followed the _Rjesan_. A commanding
officer with a prize crew of twelve men remained aboard of her, to make
certain that the service of the ship and the engines, etc., would be
according to our wishes.
* * * * *
From the newspapers, we had learned that the main body of the French
fleet, consisting of the armored cruisers _Montcalm_ and _Dupleix_,
besides a number of torpedo boat destroyers, was lying somewhere off
Vladivostok. With these ships the _Emden_ must not be allowed to come
in contact by daylight. As we were rounding the southern extremity of
Corea, the look-out in the top suddenly sang out, "Seven smoke clouds
in sight astern!" To make quite sure of it, the Commander sent me
aloft. I, too, could distinctly see seven separate columns of smoke,
together with the upper structure of a small vessel, the one nearest to
us, just above the horizon. Upon hearing my report, the commander gave
orders to change our course. We swept a wide circle, and so avoided
the enemy. Without meeting with hindrance of any kind, we arrived at
Tsingtao.
On the way we caught up an interesting wireless message. The Reuter
Agency, so celebrated for its rigid adherence to facts, was sending a
telegram abroad, informing the credulous world that the _Emden_ had
been sunk. How many sympathetic people must have shuddered as they
read,--and so did we, of course!
During the following night, our prize occasioned us some further
trouble. Naturally, her lights, as well as our own, had to be screened.
It was a much easier matter to give orders to that effect, however,
than to see to it that they were carried out. On the steamer were
several women passengers, who, from the outset, were filled with
mortal terror as to what the barbarous Germans would do with them. Most
of them were fat Russian Jewesses. Every few minutes they would turn on
the electric lights in their cabins, so that finally there was nothing
left for the officer of the prize crew to do but to have the electric
light cable in the engine capped....