“Ah!” exclaimed the owner of those eyes, “at last the illustrious Captain is himself again. Are you suffering very acutely, noble sir?”
“Suffering?” I whispered. “Rather! I ache as if I had been beaten to a jelly, and I am as thirsty as a—as a limekiln. Can you by any chance get me something to drink? A bucketful will do to start with.”
“A bucketful!” she murmured, looking anxiously down at me as she laid her long, slender, pointed fingers upon the pulse of my left hand where it rested outside the coverlet. “But no,” she continued, evidently speaking to herself, “his pulse is almost normal, and there is no trace of fever. A bucketful! Oh, these English!”
She shook her head, as though giving up some problem that she found too difficult for solution, and shuffled off, with the curious gait peculiar to Japanese women, without saying another word to me. She approached the other two nurses, at the far end of the ward, and said something which caused them both to turn and stare in my direction. Then the senior of the party, accompanied by the girl whom I had so tremendously astonished, came up to my bedside, looked at me, felt my pulse, and shuffled away again, presently returning with one of those cups with a spout, from which one can drink while in a recumbent position. She placed the point of the spout between my lips, and the next moment I was aware that I was imbibing some delicious broth. But the cup! It was only about the size of an ordinary breakfast cup, and its contents were gone before I could well taste them. I asked for more, and got a second cupful; and then, as I was asking for still more, the Medical Staff of the hospital entered the ward, and the whole crowd turned with one accord and grouped itself around my bed.
The Chief, a keen, clever-looking little fellow, whose age it was impossible to guess at since he was clean shaven, turned to the nurse who was feeding me, and sharply demanded what it was that she was administering. She explained, adding in all seriousness the information that I had demanded a bucketful, whereupon he turned and regarded me with upraised eyebrows, and laid his fingers upon my wrist.
“So you are suffering from extreme thirst, Captain, eh?” he demanded.
I nodded emphatically.
“Ah!” he said, “yes; that was only to be expected. Well—” He turned to the head nurse and gave her certain instructions in so low a tone of voice that I could not catch what he said. Then, drawing a notebook from his pocket, he very carefully and with much consideration wrote what I imagined to be a prescription, tore out the leaf, and handed it to the nurse, with instructions to have it made up. Then, turning again to me, he inquired how I felt. I described my symptoms as well as I could, wondering all the while how it was that I was only able to speak in the merest whisper.
The members of the staff, including the Head himself, could not have listened with more rapt attention, had I been communicating to them some item of intelligence of the most tremendous import; and when I had finished, the Head drew away from my bed to the far end of the room, where for some minutes he appeared to be delivering a lecture to the members of his staff, who had followed him. Then, the lecture being finished, they all came back to the side of my bed, and one of the nurses having carefully folded back the covering as low as my waist, the Head proceeded to deftly loosen the fastenings of an enormous bandage which I now discovered enveloped my chest. This done, I was very tenderly raised to a sitting posture—an operation which gave me excruciating pain, by the way—and the endless turns of the bandage were deftly unwound, one of the nurses seating herself upon the bed and supporting me meanwhile. When at length the bandage was removed, several broad strips of dressing were disclosed, which, upon removal, revealed a ghastly great jagged wound stretching right across my chest, the edges of which had been very neatly drawn together by a number of stitches. Then, for the first time, I remembered the violent blow on the chest which I had received when the bows of the Kasanumi were destroyed. The wound was intently examined by the entire staff, pronounced to be healing most satisfactorily, and then, after being thoroughly sponged with warm water, was re-dressed, and a fresh bandage applied. Meanwhile, I had made the discovery that my head also was enveloped in bandages, and when I asked why, was informed that I had received a scalp wound, which, however, was of no serious consequence. When this also had been re-dressed, the entire operation occupying the best part of half an hour, I felt considerably easier, although much exhausted. While the wound in my chest was being dressed, I had seized the opportunity to look round the ward, and saw that several of the beds were occupied, one of the patients, who appeared to be suffering from a broken arm, being a man whom I appeared to know. As I sat staring at him he turned his head and our eyes met, whereupon, to my amazement, up went his uninjured hand to the salute.
“Who is that man?” I demanded. “I seem to recognise his face.”
“You do?” remarked the Chief. “Ah! no wonder. He is one of the survivors of the disaster by which you so nearly lost your honourable life. He was one of the crew of the Kasanumi.”
“One of the crew of the Kasanumi!” I repeated. “Of course; I remember now. How come he and I to be here?”
“You were both, with the rest of the crew of your ship, rescued by the Akatsuki, which ship was happily at hand when the disaster occurred,” replied the Chief.
“Ah, yes, the disaster!” I remarked. “Yes, I am beginning to remember all about it now. What was the nature of the disaster, doctor? Was that ever ascertained?”
“According to your friend, Captain Ito, who brought you here, there is no doubt that your ship struck a mine,” was the reply. “Of course she went down, though not so quickly but that the entire crew were saved, together with most of their personal effects. There was time, indeed, to save most, if not all, of your belongings, Captain, and they are now here, awaiting your convalescence.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And, pray, when did the disaster occur?”
“Just a week ago, last night,” was the reply.
“A week ago!” I exclaimed in consternation. “Then, have I lain here all that time, unconscious?”
“You certainly have,” replied the Chief. “Now, however, that you are happily conscious once more, we must do our utmost to keep you so, and to assist your recovery. Therefore, no more conversation, if you please, until I give you permission. What you now have to do is to remain perfectly quiet and free from all excitement, pleasurable or otherwise. Rest, sleep, take such food and such medicines as I shall order for you, and recover strength as rapidly as possible. Then, when you are sufficiently well to receive visitors, I will permit a few of the many who are now eager to see you, to do so. No, not another word!”
And therewith the little fellow and his staff turned away and proceeded to overhaul the rest of the patients.
The nurse whom I had at first seen upon recovering consciousness appeared to have been specially told off to look after me, for upon the departure of the staff she came and knelt by my bedside, as is their fashion, instead of sitting.
She was just within the range of my vision, as I lay, and I suppose I must have stared at her pretty intently for some time, for presently I saw her colour rising, which at once brought me to my bearings. Thinking to put her at her ease, I said to her:
“Nurse, what is your name?”
She coloured still more, and after regarding me steadfastly for a moment, answered:
“My contemptible and insignificant name, illustrious Captain, is Peach-blossom.”
“Peach-blossom!” I repeated. “And a very appropriate name, too, by Jove! See here, Peach-blossom. The Chief Surgeon seems to have forgotten that I said I was thirsty. Do you think you could find me something to drink? Two or three tumblers of cold water, now, eh? I have an idea that they would taste particularly good.”
“I will speak to the Chief, noble Captain, and if he consents I will honourably let you have it,” she replied.
The Chief evidently consented, and a few minutes later I was quenching my thirst with the most delicious draught I had ever tasted. It was only pure, c
old water, but as I slowly imbibed it I told myself that at last I really understood the full meaning of the term, “nectar.”
Well, there is no need for me to dwell at length upon my sojourn in the hospital. I was given to understand that I was making a splendid recovery, yet although I was brought back to the Elliot Islands and admitted to the hospital on the morning of 20th June, it was not until nearly three weeks had passed that I was permitted to receive visitors, the first of whom was that fine fellow Ito, to whom I owed my life.
I shall not readily forget the little chap’s delight when, upon entering the ward, he discovered me sitting up in bed, reading, propped up by cushions and a bed-rest. He sprang forward, his eyes fairly snapping with pleasure and excitement, and seizing my welcoming hand, shook it with such energy that good little Peach-Blossom felt constrained to spring hastily to her feet and rescue me from his too strenuous demonstrations of joy. At her vigorous remonstrances, however, he dropped my hand as though it had burnt him and, sinking into a chair by my bedside, proceeded to apologise with almost abject contrition, and would not be comforted until I had assured him, not quite truthfully, I am afraid, that he had not hurt me. Then, in answer to my questions, he proceeded to tell me what he knew of the matter.
It appeared that at the moment when the explosion occurred, the Akatsuki was so close to the Kasanumi that the two craft were all but touching each other, although, from the Kasanumi’s bridge, where I was then standing, I could not see the other destroyer. It also appeared that at the moment when I ordered the course of the Kasanumi to be altered, the Akatsuki was close astern of us, and broad on our port quarter, the consequence being that the shifting of our helm carried us so close athwart her bows that she all but touched us when crossing our stern. It was at this moment that the explosion occurred; and Ito, instantly divining what had happened, at once manoeuvred his craft in such a fashion as to lay her alongside the fast-sinking Kasanumi, so that the crew of the latter were able to transfer themselves directly from one ship to the other without using boats. Meanwhile, the helmsman and signalmen on the Kasanumi’s bridge had seen me tossed over the rail by the force of the explosion, and, although themselves severely shaken, had instantly flung themselves down upon the turtle-back, where they found me lying bleeding and insensible. To pick me up and carry me aft was the next thing to be done, for they realised at once that their own ship was sinking, and they did it, transferring my senseless body to the Akatsuki the moment that she got alongside. I was at once taken below and temporarily patched-up, while the crew of the Kasanumi were being transferred, together with such of their belongings as they were able to save, my cabin steward with the utmost devotion concentrating all his efforts upon saving the most valuable of my belongings, regardless of the loss of his own.
It was at first thought that possibly the Kasanumi might be saved, and Ito did his utmost in that direction, working for more than half an hour upon the stricken craft. But the damage was too serious, and despite collision mats and pumps the craft continued to settle until at length, recognising that all efforts were useless, he ordered all hands aboard his own ship, and cast off, the Kasanumi foundering almost before the Akatsuki could back off clear of her.
Ito made no attempt to attack the ships in Port Arthur roads single-handed, but at once shaped a course for the Elliot Islands, running clear of the fog half an hour later. Arrived at our base, he lost no time in having me conveyed ashore to the hospital, where, as already recorded, I lay for a week in a state of alternating delirium and coma before I recovered my senses.
The doctors assured me that I was making a splendid recovery; yet to myself my progress appeared to be horribly slow, and it was certainly not accelerated by the knowledge that while I was lying there helpless, big events were happening which had all the appearance of leading up to still bigger events in the near future. For instance, there was the second sortie of the Russian squadron from Vladivostock, in the middle of June, lasting over a fortnight, during which it inflicted great loss and damage upon the Japanese. It was a most risky thing to do, and must certainly have resulted in disaster had not poor, unhappy Admiral Kamimura been morally chained down, and prevented from taking effective measures against the raiders, by a stringent order that he was to hold the Strait of Korea at all costs. Yet, such is human inconsistency, notwithstanding the above stringent order, which bound the unfortunate admiral hand and foot, and effectually precluded his pursuit of the raiding ships, he was so severely blamed by “the man in the street” for the damage done that a mob actually attacked and wrecked his house! This, of course, was most unjust and cruel treatment of a thoroughly capable and zealous man who, hampered though he was, did all he could to bring the raiders to book, and indeed, but for a sudden change of weather at a critical moment, would probably have brought them to action and given them a severe punishing.
Then, there was the abortive sortie of the Port Arthur fleet, three days after the destruction of the Kasanumi. True, the ships were only at sea for about twenty-four hours, and did nothing, narrowly escaping capture only by Togo’s over-eagerness to engage them, thus discovering himself to the Russians in time to allow the latter to make good their retreat back to Port Arthur; but, all the same, I felt that I was losing much in not being present. To me it seemed that our plucky little Admiral had missed a splendid chance over this last event; for we did the enemy no perceptible damage, and only succeeded in driving him back to his lair. As a matter of fact the only injury sustained by the Russians was that which happened to the battleship Sevastopol, which struck one of our mines as she was returning to Port Arthur anchorage, and was only got into the harbour with the utmost difficulty.
Chapter Seventeen.
UNEXPECTED PROMOTION.
Among other naval customs which the Japanese had copied from the British, was that of trying by court martial all officers who were so unfortunate as to lose their ships; and on the day when I first received permission from the doctors to take a short turn in the open air, I also received an intimation that my trial for the loss of the Kasanumi would be held, a week from that date, on board the flagship Mikasa, which would then be in harbour.
Of course I was still very much of an invalid, for although the ghastly wound in my chest had so far healed that it no longer needed dressing, I was warned that even very trifling exertion might cause it to burst open again, while I had by no means recovered my former strength. Nevertheless, on the day appointed, I made shift to walk down to the beach, supported by the arm of an orderly, and, with the same assistance, to climb the flagship’s side ladder when I arrived alongside her in the steam launch which had been sent ashore to fetch me.
There is no need for me to describe at length the proceedings of a naval court martial; it has been admirably done by Captain Marryat; and as it was in his day, so it is to-day, in all essentials. Of course the trial was the merest formality, for there could not be the slightest shadow of doubt that the craft had been lost through collision with a mine, while under way in a dense fog, and that it was one of those incidents of war for which nobody but the enemy can be held responsible; and accordingly I was honourably acquitted, and my sword was returned to me amid the congratulations of the Admiral and the officers who had constituted the court.
Five days later I received a visit from Togo himself, who seemed to have conceived rather a liking for me. After making most friendly inquiries as to my health and the progress which I was making toward convalescence, he repeated his congratulations upon my acquittal by the court martial, and then asked me how much longer I thought it would be before I should again be fit for active service. I was happily able to assure him that, unless anything quite unforeseen happened, I hoped to be quite ready for duty in a fortnight, or even less if my services were urgently required, and I remember that I gave the answer with considerable eagerness, for there was a certain subtle something in the tone of the Admiral’s question which somehow suggested that events of importance were in the air.
&n
bsp; “Good!” ejaculated Togo. “That is excellent news, my friend, for if what I hear be true, it would appear that the time is drawing near when I shall be in urgent need of all the assistance which my officers can give me. I will say no more at present—except that I hope you will take the utmost care of yourself, and get quite well again as quickly as possible—for at present my information is too vague to permit me to make a definite statement. Meanwhile,”—putting his hand into his breast pocket and producing a long, official-looking document—“it affords me the utmost pleasure to hand you this, which is your appointment to the command of the Yakumo. It has been my pleasant duty to mention your name in my dispatches, in connection with many services meritoriously rendered, the latest having reference to the very valuable assistance rendered by you prior to and during the battle of Nanshan; and this appointment is the outward token of the authorities’ appreciation of those services. I am looking forward with much interest to the moment when you will take up this new command, for, as you know, the Yakumo is a very fine ship, and under a smart and enterprising captain I shall expect great things of her.”
“And by Jove! sir, you shall not be disappointed if I can help it,” I exclaimed, springing to my feet in a paroxysm of delight and grasping the hand which the Admiral kindly extended to me. “I don’t know how to find words in which to express my profound gratitude to you, sir, for all your kindness to me, from the moment when I presented myself before you, an utter stranger,” I continued huskily; but Togo interrupted me, reaching up and patting my shoulder in a very kind, fatherly way.
“There, there,” he murmured, soothingly, “say no more about it, my dear boy; say no more about it. I want no wordy expressions of gratitude; you should know that by this time. And if you really feel grateful to me for anything I have done for you, you shall show your gratitude in deeds, rather than words, when the strenuous times arrive which I already see looming in the distance.”
Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun Page 25