Kitabı oku: «At the Fall of Port Arthur: or, A Young American in the Japanese Navy», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XXVI
BEN MEETS CAPTAIN BARUSKY

For several days poor Ben remained a prisoner aboard of the small steamer. During that time only two men came near him – an under officer and the sailor who supplied him with food and water. Neither would answer his questions, so he could not learn where he was being taken or what was to be done with him.

One evening there was a slight commotion on the deck, and the course of the steamer was changed. Then came a blowing of steam whistles lasting several minutes. Finally the steamer came to a standstill.

"You are to leave this vessel at once," said the under officer, as he opened the door of the young captain's temporary prison. "Come, we have no time to spare."

"Where am I to go?" questioned Ben.

"You will soon learn. Hurry!"

There was no help for it, and soon Ben was on deck. He was made to enter a small boat and was thus transferred to another steamer – one which had formerly been in the East Indian trade but which was now acting as a Russian supply boat.

"What a dirty craft!" was his mental comment, after having been thrust into a pen which was little better than a horse stall. The supply boat was loaded to its fullest capacity, so quarters for all on board were limited.

Two days passed and he received food which was scarcely fit to eat. When he protested he was threatened with a flogging. The air was foul and he began to fear that he would become sick.

"I won't be able to stand this much longer," he thought, dismally. "If they want to kill me why don't they do it at once and have done with it?"

On the following morning a surprise awaited him. He heard two Russian officers pause in front of his pen and one said to the other:

"Here is the prisoner, Captain Barusky."

"Is it the fellow named Russell?" was the question from Captain Barusky, the rascal who had aided Ivan Snokoff to make so much trouble for Gilbert Pennington.

"The same."

"They did not capture his friend?"

"No – in the struggle he slipped away."

"I am sorry for that. We wanted Pennington more than we did this fellow. But I am glad we got at least one of them. As I understand it they work hand-in-glove with each other;" and then the two Russian officers passed on.

Like a flash Ben realized the truth of the situation. His taking off had been a trap set by Snokoff and this Captain Barusky, who had hired the Chunchuses to help work out their plot. He was now in the hands of the enemy in more ways than one.

"They won't treat me as an ordinary prisoner," he reasoned. "This Captain Barusky will make it as hard as possible for me – more especially so as Gilbert managed to escape his clutches. Well, I am glad Gilbert got away."

Resolved to "take the bull by the horns," Ben asked the prison guard if he might speak to Captain Barusky.

"I will see about it," answered the sailor, and went off to find out. On his return he stated that the captain would visit the pen some time during the day.

The Russian officer came late in the afternoon, when nobody else was near the pen. There was a sarcastic look on his face when he gazed at the young captain.

"So you want to talk to me," he said, abruptly.

"I do, Captain Barusky. I want to know why this plot was laid against me."

"I know of no plot. You are an American in the employ of the Japanese Government as a spy. Russia captures all the Japanese spies she can."

"I am no spy."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders. "That is what your friend, Captain Pennington, once told me, too. Yet as soon as he got out of Port Arthur he was made a captain in the Mikado's army."

"He applied for the position because the Russians had mistreated him and because he loves active service."

"Have it as you please, Russell; both of you are spies, and you will have to suffer as one."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Since you seem so anxious to know, I will tell you, for I do not think you will be able to take the news to the Japanese. This boat is carrying supplies to Port Arthur."

"Port Arthur!"

"That is what I said. When we arrive there you will be placed in one of the strongest of our prisons at the port. Do you not admire the prospect?"

"Well, if you take me to Port Arthur, perhaps I shan't be a prisoner long," replied Ben, resolved to put on as bold a front as possible.

"And why not?" demanded Captain Barusky, curiously.

"Because our army and our navy are bound to capture the place."

"Bah! The Japanese will never take Port Arthur. It is absurd to think of it."

"It may not come right away – but it will come sooner or later."

"Never! But if it should, you will not be there to enjoy our downfall. Remember that spies are tried, and if found guilty they are taken out and shot."

"You cannot prove that I am a spy."

"That remains to be seen."

"If you bring me before the court I'll have something to say about your underhanded work with Ivan Snokoff. I can prove that he is a swindler and that you are his accomplice."

"Ha! you threaten me!" roared Captain Barusky, in a rage. "Have a care! I come from a most respectable family and I have great influence."

"Nevertheless, I think those who are higher in authority than yourself will listen to my story. The Russian army officers are as a rule gentlemen and strictly honest."

"Which means to say that I am not a gentleman and not honest!" bellowed Captain Barusky. "That, for your opinion!" And reaching out he gave Ben a ringing box on the ear.

It was the last straw. With no fresh air and no food fit to eat, the young captain was desperate, and leaping forward he struck at the Russian captain's nose. His fist went true, and as Barusky staggered back against the pen door the blood spurted from his nasal organ.

"Don't you dare to hit me again!" panted Ben, standing before the Russian with both hands clenched. "Don't you dare – or you'll get the worst of it!"

His manner made Captain Barusky cower back, and he glared at Ben with the ferocity of a wild beast. Then he called to the guard.

"Run for aid, Petrovitch," he said. "The prisoner has attacked me. He is a beast, and must be chained up."

The man addressed summoned three other sailors and the captain of the ship's guard. All came into the pen and forced Ben into a corner.

"The Yankee dog!" said the captain of the guard. "To dare to strike a Russian officer! Bring the chains at once!"

Chains were brought, and soon Ben was bound hands and feet, with links that weighed several pounds. Then a large staple was driven into one of the uprights of the pen and he was fastened to this with a padlock.

"Now place him on half-rations," said Captain Barusky. "It is the only way to tame him." And then he hurried away to bathe his nose, which was swelling rapidly.

If Ben had been miserable before he was doubly so now. The chains were cumbersome and cut into his flesh, and being fastened to the upright he could scarcely move a foot either way. To add to his misery the front of the pen was boarded over, so that what little light had been admitted to his prison was cut off.

In this wretched condition he passed a full week. In that time Captain Barusky came to peep in at him three times, and on each occasion tried to say something to make him still more dispirited. The food was so bad he could not eat and the air often made his head ache as if it would crack open.

"If this is a sample of Russian prison life it's a wonder all the prisoners don't go mad," he reasoned. "A few months of this would surely kill me."

At the end of the week Ben heard firing at a distance. The supply boat was now trying to steal into Port Arthur and had been discovered by a Japanese patrol boat. The craft was struck twice and the prisoner below heard a wild commotion on the deck, as one of the funnels was carried away. But darkness favored the Russians, and inside of two hours the supply boat passed into Port Arthur harbor without sustaining further damage. She was then directed to a proper anchorage by the harbor master; and on the following day the transfer of her cargo to the storehouses on shore was begun.

For several days longer Ben was kept on the boat. Then, one wet and cold morning, he was liberated and told to march on deck. From the vessel he was taken to a big stone building which was being used as one of the garrison quarters. Here he was given a scant hearing in the presence of Captain Barusky, who appeared against him.

"We have no time to investigate your case at present, Captain Russell," said the officer who conducted the examination. "But from reports I should surmise that you are a dangerous young man. You must remain a prisoner." And then the young captain was taken away. Later on, he was marched a distance of half a mile and blindfolded. When the bandage was removed from his eyes, he found himself in an old stone building, dirty and neglected. He was taken to a small room, having a grated window, and thrust inside. Six other prisoners were put into the apartment with him, one man with a hacking cough, dreadful to hear. The door was closed and barred; and all were left to take care of themselves as best they could.

CHAPTER XXVII
A FIERCE BATTLE AT SEA

Larry was taking a nap when the call came to clear the ship for action. It had been discovered that the Russian fleet was trying to escape from Port Arthur harbor, and the news was flashed from vessel to vessel of Admiral Togo's fleet, and all were ordered to prevent the movement at any cost.

"Now I reckon we are in fer it!" ejaculated Luke, as he and the youth rushed over to their gun. "Larry, it's in my mind we have some tall work cut out fer us this trip!"

"Let it come – I am in just the humor for fighting!" cried Larry. "I hope we can smash them just as we smashed the Spanish ships in Manila Bay."

Sailors and gunners were hurrying in all directions, and orders were coming in rapid succession. At first the Russian ships had turned in one direction, now they were turning in another, and, later still, they separated. A distant firing could already be heard, but where it came from those on the Shohirika could not tell.

So far no ships of the enemy could be seen with the naked eye. The lookouts kept a close watch, and the flashlights continued to play all over the bosom of the rolling sea.

It was almost daylight when a distant explosion was heard. A Russian torpedo boat had run into a mine and was so badly damaged that she sank inside of ten minutes, carrying a large part of her crew with her.

This disaster proved a warning to the other Russian ships and they proceeded on their courses with added caution. The Japanese warships were equally on the alert, yet, just as the sun came up, one brushed against a mine and received such damage that she was practically put out of the contest.

"There is one of the enemy's ships!" was the cry, as the mist swept away as if by magic and the sun came out strongly. "Now is our chance. Banzai!"

"And there is another ship!" came a moment later, "and one of our own pounding her as if she was a witch!"

Guns were now booming over the water constantly, and from the forts on shore came shots and shells in rapid succession. Soon the Shohirika was in the midst of the battle, and then Luke and Larry worked over the gun as never before, doing their full share towards disabling the ship that was trying to escape up the Manchurian coast.

For over an hour the running fire kept up. Neither ship dared to put on full speed, for fear of running into a mine. Solid shot was hurled in all directions, and the Shohirika received one below the water line which for the moment looked as if it might sink the craft. But the ship's carpenter and his crew got at the leak immediately, driving in a wedge which quickly stopped the flow of water.

It was hard, exhausting work between decks, and at the end of an hour Larry felt he must have some fresh air. Both he and Luke applied for permission to go on deck, and this permission was readily granted, for the guns on their side of the warship were not then in use.

On the deck of the Shohirika they could see what this battle really meant. Dirt and debris were to be seen in many places, and half a dozen sailors and marines had been killed or wounded. Everybody was bathed in perspiration and grime, and some of those who worked the big guns were panting like dogs after a chase.

"It's work, that's what it is," said Luke, running the perspiration from his begrimed forehead with his finger. "Ain't no child's play about it!"

"And dangerous work at that," added Larry. He gave a look toward the enemy's ships. "I declare, Luke, I believe they are running back to Port Arthur harbor!"

"I think the same, lad," responded the Yankee gunner. "Reckon they are findin' it is goin' to cost too much to get away. As soon as they get away from them land batteries we can pound 'em for keeps and they know it."

"And get away from the mines. That's the worst with fighting around here – you don't know how soon you'll hit a mine and be blown up."

"Oh, I reckon our captain is watching out fer them pesky things."

Larry was interested in watching the sharpshooters and range-finders in the tops, and he walked across the deck to get a better look at them. Luke followed, and as he did so, one of the nearest of the Russian ships sent out a roaring broadside at the Shohirika which raked her fore and aft and sent another hole through her side, but this time above the water line where it did scant damage.

"Gee Christopher!" began Luke, when he chanced to glance upward. "Larry, look out!" he screamed. "The top's coming down on ye!"

Luke was right. One of the shots from the enemy had struck the foremast, above the fighting top, and it was crashing down, carrying a portion of the ship's flag with it. One end struck the gun turret, and then the wreckage hit Larry on the shoulder, hurling him on his back.

The foremast was heavy and had it struck the youth before landing on the turret and the surrounding works it might have killed the young gunner's mate on the spot. As it was, Larry lay like a log where he had fallen and when Luke raised him up the old tar found him unconscious.

"If he ain't got his shoulder broke then I miss my guess," muttered the Yankee gunner. "Larry! Larry! Can't ye speak to me?"

"That was a nasty one," came from one of the officers of the deck. "Better carry him below." And then the officer gave orders to remove the wreckage and hoist the flag once more.

With the unconscious youth in his arms, Luke hurried below and to the sick bay of the warship. Here the surgeon got to work immediately and examined Larry thoroughly.

"No bones broken," he announced. "But the bruise is severe and he is suffering from shock. He will soon come to his senses."

Luke had to return to his gun, for duty is duty in the navy, regardless of what is happening around one. It was true, the Russian warships were now doing their best to sneak back into Port Arthur harbor and Admiral Togo wanted to do all the damage possible before the forts made it impossible to follow them further. All of the warships' guns were worked to their utmost, and when the Russian vessels did get back they were so badly crippled that they were of small consequence for future fighting until undergoing repairs.

When Larry opened his eyes again he found himself lying on a clean white cot in the ship's hospital with an attendant standing over him bathing his face.

"Oh!" he murmured and stared around him. "Oh, my shoulder! That was a fearful crack I got!"

The attendant did not understand, but smiled blandly and continued to bathe his face and also his head. Soon the full realization of what had happened came to the young gunner's mate. Then he asked about Luke.

The fighting was at an end and presently Luke came to him, to find Larry sitting up in a chair.

"I feel stiff and sore all over, Luke," said the youth. "It was just as if a house came down on me."

"Thank fortune you wasn't killed, or didn't have your bones broken," returned the Yankee gunner.

"I am thankful. Were you hurt?"

"Not in the least."

"What about the fight?"

"The Russians have sneaked back into the harbor like a lot of whipped dogs."

"What is our ship doing?"

"Putting up the coast. I don't know where we are going," answered Luke.

Larry remained in the ship's hospital for three days and then resumed his duties as before. His shoulder still felt stiff and sore and lifting anything was a good deal of labor. But Luke favored him, so he got along very well.

A week passed and the Shohirika remained at sea, moving in a wide circle, on the lookout for Russian warships or supply boats. But none were encountered, and then the cruiser was ordered to escort a transport filled with soldiers bound for the front.

The transport landed at a point some miles north of Dalny and the troops went ashore without delay. They were bound for the railroad, and were to participate in the advance upon Port Arthur from that point.

As the warship remained in the harbor several days, both Luke and Larry were allowed a short run on shore. They enjoyed this trip very much, until, much to their surprise, they learned that Major Okopa's command was in the vicinity. Then they hunted this up, to learn the sad news from Gilbert that Ben was missing.

"Missing!" ejaculated Larry, in horror. "Taken by Chunchuses! Oh, Gilbert, this is dreadful!"

"Well, I don't know as you feel any worse than I do, Larry," answered Gilbert. "It makes me wild to think of it."

"But couldn't you find any trace of him at all?"

"Not the slightest, although I think he was carried off in a boat."

"But why should the Chinese brigands make him a prisoner?"

"I'm sure I don't know, excepting to hold him for a ransom. But if they intended to do that it is likely we should have heard from them before this."

The matter was discussed as long as Larry and Luke could remain on shore. But nothing came of it, and with a heavy heart the young gunner's mate returned to his place on the warship.

CHAPTER XXVIII
THE SIEGE OF PORT ARTHUR

After the fruitless effort to escape from Port Arthur harbor the Russian warships "bottled up" there remained where they were for a long time to come. Occasionally one or another attempted to run the blockade, but results were usually disastrous, and at last the risk became so great nothing more was done in that direction. The Japanese continued to put down mines and sank several boats loaded with stone in or near the winding channel, and this made getting in as hard as getting out – thus putting a stop to the arrival of more supply boats, such as brought Ben to the seaport.

In the meantime the campaign on land was pushed forward with increased activity. The headquarters of the Japanese army investing Port Arthur was not far from the railroad, but the lines stretched many miles to the east and the west. Troops were hurried both from Japan and from the divisions near Liao-Yang, and heavy siege guns were mounted on every available hilltop. The Japanese were, at the start, at a great disadvantage – they could not see the enemy at which they were firing. Hills and mountains cut them off from every view of the port. But they kept hammering away, day after day, week after week, and month after month, gaining steadily, throwing up new intrenchments, digging new tunnels, and hauling their heavy guns forward to more advantageous positions. The labor was body racking and the sacrifice of life enormous. But the Mikado's soldiers did not appear to care. They had set out to capture Port Arthur and they were going to do it.

For the foot-soldiers and for the cavalry there was at the start but little to do in the way of fighting. Most of the time was spent in digging trenches and tunnels, and in keeping out of the way of shells that whistled and screamed in all directions – shells weighing hundreds of pounds, which, when they struck, tore up the ground for yards around and smashed the rocks as if the latter were passing through a quartz crusher. Such is war of modern times, when carried on at a distance of miles.

But as the months went by, and Japanese and Russians came closer to each other, hand-to-hand conflicts became numerous. The Russians contested every foot of the ground, fighting with a courage that was truly heroic, and sacrificing themselves freely for the Czar and the country they loved. The hand-to-hand conflicts became bloody in the extreme, thousands upon thousands being slaughtered between the rising and the setting of the sun.

From the seacoast the command to which Gilbert was attached moved to a small place called Fugi Klan. Here they went into camp for several weeks and while there were joined by a number of other commands, including that containing those old soldiers of fortune, Dan Casey and Carl Stummer, who had served with Gilbert and Ben in Cuba and in the Philippines.

"Py chiminy, of it ton't done mine heart goot to see you, cabtain!" exclaimed Carl Stummer, rushing up and giving Gilbert a handshake. "How you peen, annavay?"

"First rate, Stummer. And how are you, Casey?"

"Sure an' it's meself is as foine as a fiddle," answered the Irishman, with a broad grin on his freckled face. "It's a great war, ain't it now? Both soides is fightin' like a pair o' Kilkenny cats, so they are! An' where is me ould friend, Captain Russell?"

"He was captured by Chunchuses."

"No!" came from both Stummer and Casey, and then they poured in a volley of questions which were bewildering. Gilbert answered them as best he could.

"Dot's der vorst ding vot I hear yet alretty!" said Carl Stummer, with a sad shake of his head. "I vish I got dem Chunchusers – or vot you call dem – here. I fix 'em, eh, Tan?"

Dan Casey nodded vigorously. "Sure an' we'd be after puttin' a ball through ivery mother's son of 'em, so we would! Poor Ben Russell! I loiked him loike a brother!" And the honest Irish sharp-shooter heaved a long sigh.

Both Casey and Stummer had been having easy times of it for several weeks, but now they were called upon to go forth with pick and shovel, to do their share of work in digging intrenchments. This was not so nice, but they went at the labor without a murmur.

"Sure an' we might as well git into practice," observed Casey, as he started in with vigor. "Whin the war's over an' we git back to the States, it may be ourselves as will be workin' fer the corporation in New York or ilsewhere!"

"Yah, udder puttin' town railroad dracks alretty in der Vest," answered Carl Stummer. "Dot is," he added, "of I ton't got money enough to puy a farm."

"'Tis a stock farm I'm wantin'," came from Casey. "Wid horses galore. There's money for ye, Carl!" And he went to work with added vigor – as if he expected to turn up the stock farm from the soil beneath him.

To Gilbert, even though he occasionally saw Stummer and Casey, the days were very lonely. He missed Ben greatly, and each day wondered if he would ever see his old war chum again. Major Okopa saw this and did what he could to cheer up the young officer.

"He may turn up before you realize it," said the major. "I don't think he was killed."

"If he is alive, it is very strange that we do not hear from him."

Two days later came a batch of letters into camp, written, or rather painted, for the most part, on thin Japanese paper. Among the communications were two for Gilbert, one from Captain Ponsberry concerning the Columbia and her cargo, and the other from a stranger in Pekin, China.

"Who can be writing to me from Pekin, China?" mused the young captain, and began to read the communication with interest. It was from a Chinese merchant, and ran in part as follows:

"You will be mystified to receive this from an utter stranger, but I deem it my duty, kind sir, to send this word to you.

"Know, then, that one Ken Gow, a servant of my family, was in Port Arthur up to sixteen days ago – first a servant in an American family there, and next a prisoner in the vilest prison man ever saw, guarded by dogs of Russians unworthy to be used as door mats. Ken Gow is a faithful man, the flower of all my help.

"It is needless to explain to you why my servant was thus ill-treated. But you must know that when in prison he met your great friend Captain Benjamin Russell, and it was the captain who saved Ken Gow from many hard blows from the other prisoners, who wanted not a Chinaman amongst them.

"Ken Gow was grateful, even as I am grateful, and he promised to get word to you of this matter if the Russians granted him his liberty. Finding no fault in my servant he was, after a time, liberated, and watching his chance, left Port Arthur and came home.

"Kind sir, he is grateful to Captain Russell and would do much for him if he could. Yet his most is to send this letter to you, telling you that Captain Russell is alive and held in a Port Arthur prison as a spy. One Russian hates him – his name, Captain Barusky, – and it would appear that this Russian is also your enemy, so beware of him.

"I can tell no more. Ken Gow is sick from his treatment at the hands of the Russian dogs. Accept this miserable assurance of my eternal friendship, and esteem for one I know must be high and illustrious."

"Cheng Mo."

Gilbert read the letter several times and showed it to Major Okopa. It was written in true Chinese style, with a big Chinese seal attached, and was, beyond all doubt, genuine.

"I can't understand one thing," said the young captain. "How did Ben get to Port Arthur?"

"It may be that this Captain Barusky had him taken there, Captain Pennington."

"I thought Captain Barusky was at Mukden."

"The Russians have been taking in some troops at Port Arthur on the sly. Despite Admiral Togo's efforts, some supply boats and transports have passed his ships."

"If Barusky is there he will do what he can to make Ben miserable. He is down on both of us – for he knows we are down on him and Ivan Snokoff."

"Do you think Snokoff could have anything to do with this?"

"I'm sure I don't know. Anything is possible. Snokoff would be glad to make trouble for Ben – since he helped me to make him settle up at Liao-Yang. Those Chunchuses tried to capture both of us."

The matter was talked over for half an hour, but brought forth no satisfaction. To Gilbert's mind, being held by the Russians as a spy was as bad as being in the hands of the Chinese brigands.

"I wish we could get into Port Arthur at once," he said, finally. "I shouldn't like anything better than to capture this Captain Barusky and liberate Ben."

"We are bound to get into the port sooner or later," answered Major Okopa. "They are bringing up more siege guns every day. If the Russians won't give up we'll batter the whole town down over their heads."

"Which will be a bad thing for Ben," rejoined Gilbert. "I don't want him killed in the attempt to rescue him."