As we rapidly neared the enemy I made them out to be two destroyers, evidently escorting the third craft, which was a single-funnelled steamer of apparently about eighteen hundred tons. She sat deep in the water, as though loaded to her full capacity, but she was much too small for a transport, and for the life of me I could not imagine what her character might be. But there could be no doubt whatever concerning the destroyers; they were self-evident Russians, for they were four-funnelled, the funnels arranged in pairs, which was distinctly characteristic of a certain class of Russian destroyer.
Neither side wasted any time upon useless preliminaries; but it was the Russians who opened the ball by both craft firing, almost simultaneously, every gun they could bring to bear upon us. But their aim was nothing to boast of, for although we heard the shells screaming all about us, we remained untouched. Twice they fired upon us before I would give the word to our gun-layers, and both times ineffectively; then I gave the order to commence firing; and no sooner had the words passed my lips than our 12-pounder spoke, and a moment later there occurred two distinct explosions aboard the nearest Russian boat, which instantly became enveloped in a great cloud of steam. Apparently that first shot of ours had struck and exploded one of her boilers, for almost immediately she slackened speed and began to drop astern. This mishap, however, did not seem to in the least discourage her consort, which, putting on full speed, now dashed at us in the most determined and gallant manner, firing as she came, and receiving our fire in return. And then, for some ten minutes, we found ourselves engaged in a regular ding-dong fight, we and our antagonist closing to a distance of less than two hundred yards, and hammering away at each other as fast as the guns could be served.
But it very soon became apparent that our fellows were much the better and cooler gunners of the two; for whereas the Russians seemed to ram in their charges and let fly on the instant that their guns were loaded, our men waited, watching the roll both of their own ship and that of the enemy, and firing at her waterline as she rolled away from us, with the result that within the first five minutes of the fight a lucky shot from our 12-pounder sent a shell through her upturned bilge a foot or so below her normal waterline, blowing a hole through her thin plating that admitted a tremendous inrush of water every time that she rolled toward us. Her crew at once got out a collision mat and made the most desperate efforts to get it over and stop the leak; but our 6-pound quick-firers peppered them so severely that, after struggling manfully for two or three minutes, they were obliged to let the mat go, and lost it. Then they launched a torpedo at us, which missed us by inches only, whereupon I ordered our men to cease fire, and hailed the Russian to ask if she would surrender. But, not a bit of it; their reply, as translated to me by Hiraoka, who was an excellent Russian linguist, was, that they knew how to die, but not how to surrender; and the reply was accompanied by another salvo from every one of their guns that would bear. And this, too, at a moment when it became only too apparent that the boat was rapidly sinking. Since, therefore, it was evident that they were resolved to fight to the last, there was nothing for it but to open fire upon them afresh, much as I regretted it, as they obstinately persisted in keeping up a fire upon us.
The end, however, was nearer than even I thought, for we had fired but a few more shots at our opponent when there occurred a terrific explosion aboard her, instantly followed by several others, her deck opened up like the lid of a box, a great sheet of flame leapt up from her interior; and, seeming to break in two, the dismembered hull rapidly disappeared, the bow and stern portions rearing themselves out of water for a few seconds ere they plunged to the bottom, leaving nothing to show where the boat had been, save a great cloud of acrid smoke and steam, a few fragments of wreckage, and some half a dozen men struggling in the water.
Of course we instantly stopped our engines and launched a boat; but we only found and saved three men out of the boat’s total complement of forty-seven. We learned that the name of the lost destroyer was the Beztraschni, and that all of her officers had perished with her.
We now had leisure to attend to the other two craft, which were by this time some three miles astern, having apparently stopped their engines to await at a safe distance the course of events. Swinging round, we headed for them at full speed, with all guns loaded, and a torpedo in each tube, ready to open fire as soon as we got within effective range. As we drew nearer, however, it became evident that there was something very seriously wrong with the destroyer which we had first fired upon, and which had dropped astern, disabled, for there were boats in the water about her, seemingly passing between her and the other craft, boats going to her with only two or three hands in them, and leaving her loaded. By the time that we had arrived within a mile of her we could see that the destroyer was in a sinking condition; and a minute later we lost sight of her altogether: she had gone down.
The boats were still in the water alongside the surviving craft, and men were climbing up her side from them as we arrived within some thirty fathoms of her and hailed, demanding her surrender. A reply instantly came from her to the effect that she surrendered; whereupon I dispatched Hiraoka on board, in charge of an armed boat’s crew; and some ten minutes later the youngster hailed, informing me that our prize was named the Vashka, of seventeen hundred and sixty tons register, originally a cargo steamer, but now adapted for mine-laying; and that she was from Dalny, bound for Kinchau Bay for the purpose of sowing the bay with mines, in anticipation of the probability that some of our ships would be sent to participate in the attack upon the isthmus. He added the information that the vessel, hoping to escape the notice of Japan’s warships by taking a roundabout route, had been escorted by two destroyers only, the Beztraschni and the Storozhevoi, the latter of which we had seen go down a few minutes before as a result of injuries inflicted upon her by our 12-pounder, the shell from which had not only blown a great rent in her bottom, as it burst, but the fragments of which had pierced two of her boilers.
It was evident that we had made a capture of considerable importance, I therefore proceeded on board the prize, with an armed reinforcement, and after going carefully into the matter with Hiraoka, arranged with him to take the Vashka to the Elliots, in charge of a prize crew, there to act according to the Admiral’s orders.
This matter arranged, I returned to the Kasanumi, and we resumed our voyage while the prize headed away south-west, on her way round to the Elliot Islands. We now had leisure to look into the extent of our own injuries. These, it proved, were by no means so serious as might have been expected, having regard to the fierceness and closeness of the fight. Our casualties amounted to two killed and five wounded, one of them seriously; while the top of the aftermost of our midship pair of funnels had been blown away, the rail of the navigating bridge smashed and doubled up in a most astonishing way, the pilot-house roof torn off, our topsides pierced in no less than five places, and a very pretty general average made of my cabin, in which a shell had evidently burst. Luckily, none of these injuries seriously affected the craft’s safety, while most of them could be at least temporarily patched-up in a few hours; also, very luckily, all the navigating instruments, the chronometer, my sextant, the nautical almanac, and my book of logarithmic and other tables had almost miraculously escaped all injury.
We steamed into Kinchau Bay, with all lights out, about an hour later than I had arranged for, but still in sufficient time for the work which lay before me; and when we arrived off the cove where I had previously landed, our largest boat was lowered, the buoys or rafts which I had caused to be prepared were placed in her, each having attached to it a very light chain of just sufficient length to securely moor it with the aid of a good grapnel; and, accompanied by two men, I then jumped in, and we pulled ashore, while the Kasanumi turned tail and steamed off to sea again at full speed, so as to be out of sight from the shore before dawn.
Arrived in the cove, we secured our boat, and then settled down as comfortably as was possible to await the dawn. It came
at last, and, as I had expected, there very shortly afterwards arrived some forty Manchurian fishermen from a little village, about half a mile distant. At first they were somewhat alarmed to find the cove, and their boats, apparently in possession of Japanese men-o’-war’s-men; but I had taken the precaution to ensure that one of my men should be capable of playing the part of interpreter; and before long I was able not only to reassure them but also, by a judicious admixture of cajolery and threats, to secure their assistance in the completion of my scheme. Money appeals to the Manchurian fisherman just as powerfully as it does to most other people, more powerfully than it does to many, for he sees so little of it; consequently when I intimated that I was prepared to pay the magnificent sum of ten yen for a few hours’ use of one of their boats, with a crew of four men, the whole crowd came tumbling over one another in their eagerness to secure the prize. I chose the boat most suitable for my purpose, transferred my rafts and gear to her, leaving our own boat in charge of a man who undertook to guard her with his life for the sum of one yen; and then, in company with the other boats, which were going fishing in the bay, we shoved off and pulled out of the cove. By a stroke of the greatest good fortune, the day was beautifully fine and clear, so that I was able without the slightest difficulty to get every one of my bearings with the most absolute accuracy, and to place my several buoys on the prearranged spots with perfect precision. The work was successfully and most satisfactorily accomplished shortly before noon; and now all that remained to be done was to affix the different coloured flags to the buoys. But that part would have to be deferred until our ships should actually come into action; otherwise our sharp-sighted enemies might prematurely catch sight of them, and, guessing their purpose, destroy them.
Chapter Thirteen.
I GO ASHORE.
An hour before midnight, launching our own boat, my crew and I pushed out of the cove into Kinchau Bay, in readiness to board the Kasanumi immediately upon her arrival from the offing.
Toward the close of the afternoon the weather had undergone a change, becoming overcast and hazy, with a drizzling rain.
The wind, too, had shifted, and, as we pushed out of the cove, was blowing fresh from the westward, knocking up a short, choppy sea that threatened soon to become dangerous to such a small boat as ours. Luckily for us, however, Hiraoka was a bit ahead of time that night, the barometer having warned him that bad weather was brewing, with the result that in little more than half an hour after leaving the cove we made out the dark form of the destroyer, hove-to and waiting for us, within fifty fathoms of our boat. And now it was that I had practical experience of the value of a suitable colouring as an aid to concealment; for although the Kasanumi had been where we found her for a full quarter of an hour, and although we had been keeping a sharp lookout for her, she remained invisible until we were close aboard of her, thanks to the peculiar shade of grey with which I had caused her to be painted. We scrambled aboard gladly enough, hoisted the boat to the davits, and at once started back for our rendezvous at the Elliot group, where we arrived without adventure shortly after sunrise on the following morning.
When, a little later, I went aboard the flagship to report myself and the result of my expedition to the Admiral, I learned that I had only got back just in the nick of time, for at last a communication had been received from General Oku, announcing that his preparations were now complete, and the squadron detached to assist him was under orders to leave for Kinchau Bay that very night. This squadron consisted of the Tsukushi, a light cruiser, armed with two 10-inch and four 47-inch guns, and the old ironclad Hei-yen, once belonging to the Chinese navy, but captured by the Japanese at the first battle of the Yalu. She mounted one 10-inch Krupp which had formed part of her original armament, and two 6-inch modern guns. Also the Akagi, another survivor of the Yalu battle, armed with four 47-inch guns; and the Chokai, carrying one 8-2-inch and one 47-inch gun. These were the craft destined to bombard the Nanshan Heights from the sea while the Japanese infantry and artillery attacked them from the land side; and they were the only craft we had at the time at all suitable for the purpose, while even they were incapable of rendering such efficient help as might have been desired, the fact being that the shallow waters of Kinchau Bay compelled them to keep at so great a distance from the shore that they could only use their guns at extreme ranges. Accompanying these four ships was a flotilla consisting of ten torpedo-boats under my command, their duty being to lend a hand generally in any manner that might be required.
There was just comfortable time for us to re-bunker the Kasanumi before six o’clock, at which hour we got under way, the expedition as a whole being under the command of Rear-Admiral Misamichi, who knew the locality well, having carefully reconnoitred the whole of the western coast of the peninsula a week or two earlier. I had by this time completed all my calculations, laid down upon the chart the positions of my series of buoys, and indicated in figures the exact measurements in yards from the lines which they marked to a number of points ashore, and a copy of this chart had been handed to each captain; they were therefore now in a position to steam in and open fire forthwith, with the absolute certainty of landing their shots upon the spots aimed at.
We were rather a slow-going lot, our speed of course being regulated by that of the slowest craft of the bunch, which happened to be the old Hei-yen; and our progress was further impeded by the circumstance that, upon rounding Liao-ti-shan promontory we ran into a westerly breeze and sea that flung our torpedo-boats about like corks and necessitated our slowing down to a speed of about eight knots; in consequence of which it was late the next night when we arrived and came to an anchor well out in deep water.
And now arose a little difficulty. We started to communicate by wireless to General Oku the fact of our arrival in the bay, by code of course; but such was the Russian keenness and activity that the moment their own wireless picked up our message,—as, of course, it was bound to do,—finding that it was in a code which they could not decipher, they immediately proceeded to “mix” it so effectually that the reading of it became impossible. The first word or two, however, reached Oku, and he at once, shrewdly surmising that the message was from us, proceeded to signal us by searchlight, using an adaptation of the Morse Code. The conversation thus carried on was a lengthy one, occupying more than an hour, when it suddenly ceased, and almost immediately afterward the Admiral signalled me to proceed on board the flagship. This was much more easily said than done, for by this time it was blowing a moderate gale, and the sea was running so heavily that it was as much as my boat could do to live in it, while as for getting alongside the cruiser, that was quite out of the question, and they were obliged to hoist me aboard in a standing bowline at the end of a whip.
Upon being shown into Admiral Misamichi’s cabin, I found its occupant somewhat ruefully contemplating the rather voluminous communication from the shore which he had just received. He welcomed me with much cordiality, and then passed the document over to me.
“Be so good as to read that, Captain,” he said, “and then kindly tell me what you make of it. It purports to be General Oku’s instructions for to-morrow; but so dense is my stupidity that I am compelled to confess my inability to understand it.”
I read the communication carefully through from beginning to end three times, and was then obliged to admit that I had only been able to glean a very hazy, imperfect notion of what the General required. I gathered that he desired the squadron to concentrate its fire from time to time upon certain points, as directed by signal; but the mischief of it was that we out there in the bay had no means of identifying the points named by the General; in other words, he gave them designations of which we were completely ignorant. We produced the chart of the place, likewise the map, and studied them both intently, with Oku’s message beside us, and finally came to the conclusion that it was incomprehensible. Then the Admiral sent for the captains of the other ships, and they had a shot at it, with a similar result.
At lengt
h I said:
“It appears to me, sir, that there is but one thing to be done, namely, for me to go ashore, find General Oku, explain to him our difficulty, and get him to mark on the map the several points mentioned here,”—touching the dispatch. “As you are aware, I have already been ashore here; I spent a whole day among the hills, reconnoitring the ground and making observations. I therefore know the country well, including our own and the enemy’s positions; and probably half an hour’s conversation with the General will enable me to identify the points mentioned in this dispatch with some of those already marked upon my chart. Thus, for example, this point, the position of which we are wholly unable to identify, may be the position which I have marked 1, or 3, or 7, or, in fact, anything; but it must be one or other of those which I have numbered, for I numbered every one of them.”
“Yes, yes,” agreed the Admiral, “that is all quite comprehensible; and, if you could only get ashore, the matter could very soon be adjusted. But how are you going to get ashore; and—still more difficult—how are you going to get off again? From what I know of this bay, I am prepared to say that there is a surf breaking on the beach at this moment which no boat of ours could pass through and live. Listen to the wind, how it howls through our rigging!”
True! that was a point which had entirely escaped me, in my eagerness. How was I to get ashore? Or rather, how was I to get off again? I was pretty confident of my ability to get ashore, for surf-swimming was a favourite pastime of mine; but as to getting off again—well, I doubted whether even my strength was equal to the task of struggling out through the long lines of surf which I knew must now be thundering in upon Kinchau beach.
Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun Page 19