Kitabı oku: «At the Fall of Port Arthur: or, A Young American in the Japanese Navy», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XXIX
FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER

"Where is this going to end?"

It was Ben who asked himself the question, as he walked up and down the narrow cell in which he had been confined in the prison at Port Arthur.

What had been written to Gilbert in the letter from Pekin had been substantially correct. Ben had aided Ken Gow in numerous ways, and for this the Chinaman had been extremely grateful and had promised to do all he could for the young captain should he manage to escape from the blockaded seaport. Then Ken Gow had disappeared one night, and that was the last Ben saw of him.

Three days later a guard entered the prison and announced that the prisoners were to be transferred to other quarters. With his hands bound behind him, Ben was marched forth through a side street of Port Arthur, where stood an old building which had formerly been used as a market. Cells had been built in this structure, and into one of these he was thrust, the guard sarcastically telling him to make himself as comfortable as possible.

The young captain was sick in both body and mind and fast reaching that point where one becomes desperate and fit for any deed of daring. More than once he was tempted to throw himself on the guard in an endeavor to overpower the fellow and escape. But he realized that if caught at this he would be immediately shot down.

Day after day passed, and from outside the prisoner heard the dull booming of cannon. Occasionally a shell would explode close to the prison, causing a wild yell of alarm and a general rush by those outside. There were flags over the prisons and over the hospitals, showing what manner of places they were, but, as said before, the Japanese were at a loss to see what they were firing at, so many shots and shells went where they were not intended. These mishaps were what caused the report to circulate that the Mikado's men were not fighting according to the rules of modern warfare, but were doing their best to shatter the hospitals in which lay their own and the Russian wounded.

It was a cold, raw day, with a touch of snow in the air, and Ben felt one of his desperate moods coming over him. His hands and feet were free and he peered forth from the one narrow window that the cell contained. All he could see beyond was a courtyard, surrounded by a stone wall.

"I wish I was out there – I'd get over that wall somehow!" he muttered to himself.

The cell window was not over fifteen or sixteen inches wide and twice that in height. The bars were of iron, but set in wooden frames but a few inches in thickness.

"A fellow might smash out those bars with the bench end," he thought. "But after that what? I reckon the guard in the courtyard would shoot me on sight. I might try it at night."

Still in a desperate mood, Ben picked up the bench, a solid affair several feet long. He made an imaginary lunge at the window bars with it.

"I'll wager I could knock them out with one blow. They – "

Ben got no further, for at the moment a fearful explosion sounded somewhere overhead. The explosion was followed by a crash and a wild yell of alarm. A Japanese shell had struck the top of the building, tearing away fully a quarter of the roof and sending the bricks and timbers flying in all directions.

"Now is my chance!" he muttered, and without stopping to think twice he rammed the window bars as hard as he could with the bench. A second and third blow followed, and down went the irons, carrying a portion of the window frame with them. Then through the opening leaped the young captain. As he landed in the courtyard, he picked up a small log of wood lying handy.

A glance around told him that the guard was nowhere in sight, the Russian having run to the other side of the building to note the damage done by the shell. Log in hand, Ben leaped quickly across the courtyard and placed the bit of wood up against the wall. This gave him a footing, and in a twinkling he was on top of the wall.

But though he acted quickly a guard from the prison building saw him and ran forth gun in hand.

"Halt!" came the command, in Russian, and then, raising his weapon, the guard fired at Ben.

The bullet whistled over the young captain's head, and without looking back to see who had fired it, he dropped on the other side of the wall. Then he sprinted up the street and around a corner.

Ben knew not where to go, but his one thought was to put distance between himself and the prison, and he hurried on and on, until he came to a barn which stood open. Into this he darted, to find the building empty of occupants.

The Japanese had begun a general bombardment of Port Arthur and shot and shells were flying in all directions. This being the case, the majority of the troops and the inhabitants were out of sight, – hid away in cellars and dugouts. Nobody paid any attention to him and he was thus given ample time in which to think matters over and decide upon his next movement.

From the barn Ben moved to the building next door – which was a sort of dwelling and storehouse combined. Here, from the wide open doorway, he gazed at the scene of destruction before him. It was full of horror and made him shiver.

"War is certainly a terrible thing," he thought. He saw some people running for their lives, and beheld one man go down struck in the back by a shell. Then he turned away to shut out the sight.

In one room of the warehouse he found an old overcoat and a slouch hat, and lost no time in donning these, both as a disguise and to keep himself warm. Then he hunted around for something to eat, but could not find a mouthful.

"I might have known there would be no food squandered," he told himself. "Didn't they say at the prison that they were slaughtering the horses just for the meat, and that butter and eggs were worth their weight in gold? I'll be lucky to get bread and soup – especially as I haven't a dollar with which to pay for a meal."

Ben was about to leave the warehouse when he saw a file of Russian soldiers approaching. With the soldiers were two officers, and as they came closer he recognized one as Captain Barusky.

"It was a bad thing to let that American escape," said the captain to the other officer. "If you catch sight of him, shoot him on the spot."

"Which we shall do with pleasure," was the ready answer; and then officers and soldiers passed on.

"I've got to keep out of sight, that's all there is to that," reasoned Ben, grimly. "If they catch me again it's all up with me. I wonder if it would be possible to get out of Port Arthur? Gilbert got out, but things weren't half so closely guarded as they are now."

Ben waited until nightfall before leaving the warehouse. Then, keeping a constant lookout for Russian soldiers, he sneaked along one street after another. Where to go he did not know, but he realized that he must have something to eat or he would starve.

Presently he came to a small garden in the center of which was a neat-looking residence. On the doorplate was the name Nathan Chase.

"Nathan Chase!" Ben cried, half aloud. "I wonder if that can be the gentleman Gilbert knew? If it is perhaps he will aid me."

At first the young captain thought to ring the doorbell, but fearful of meeting the wrong person he resolved to investigate in a more private manner. The side windows of the residence were curtained, but the curtains were only partly down. Going to one of the windows he peered inside.

In a neatly furnished sitting room sat a young lady and a Russian soldier. They were arguing about something – money matters as far as Ben could make out. The young lady did not wish to give the soldier the money and he insisted upon having it. While Ben gazed at the scene, the Russian soldier leaped up, grasped the young lady by the shoulders and shook her roughly.

"Don't!" screamed the young lady, in English. "Let me go!"

"I want the money!" answered the soldier, in his native tongue. He was a Cossack and of brutal features.

The young lady was pretty and she was helpless, and this combination was more than the young captain could resist. Regardless of consequences, he shoved up the window and leaped inside the apartment.

"Keep your hands off of that young lady!" he cried, and catching the Cossack by the shoulder he threw him backward. "Don't you know how to treat a lady when you meet her, you big brute?"

The Cossack was startled, first because he had not expected the interruption and secondly because he had no business to be in the mansion. He gave one look at Ben and then rushed out into the hallway and left the premises with all possible speed.

As soon as the Cossack was gone the young lady and Ben stared at each other. She started to speak, but stopped suddenly.

"Excuse me for coming in as I did, but I thought it was necessary," said the young captain. "I guess that fellow had no business here."

"You are right, sir. Papa is away, and he wanted me to give him money. He must have known I was alone in the house."

"Are you Miss Chase?"

"I am. But you have the advantage of me."

"I know it. I am Captain Benjamin Russell. Perhaps you know an old friend of mine, Gilbert Pennington. He knows your father, I believe."

"Oh, yes, I have met Captain Pennington. They tell me he is now in the Japanese army."

"He is." Ben paused and looked at the young lady keenly. "Miss Chase, can I trust you?" he asked, abruptly.

"What do you mean?"

"I will tell you," and in a few brief words he related his story, to which Grace Chase listened with close attention.

"You were lucky to escape from that prison!" she cried, when he had finished. "To be sure I will assist you as far as I can. Papa is away on business, but I expect him back in two or three hours. We haven't much on hand to eat, but such as there is you are welcome to."

"I'm hungry enough to eat anything," said Ben, with a little smile.

"Then come with me to the dining room, Captain Russell, and I will prepare supper."

"You haven't any servants now, I suppose?"

"No; every one of them has deserted us."

They entered the dining room, and the young lady asked Ben to close the shutters. While he was doing this she prepared such a meal as the larder of the house afforded. It was not much, but he did not complain, and he thanked her warmly for giving what he felt she could ill afford to set before him.

The meal finished, they sat down to await the coming of Mr. Chase. While doing this Ben related some of his experiences in the army and the young lady told of the horrors of the siege.

"One cannot understand it unless you are in the midst of it," she said. "Papa says business is at a standstill, the hospitals are filled with the sick and the wounded, and we are in constant dread that the next moment will be our last. The suspense is so great that in one or two cases the inhabitants have gone crazy."

"I can well believe that, Miss Chase. During the war in the Philippines I saw – "

Ben paused, as a heavy footstep sounded on the porch of the residence. Other footsteps followed, and then came a loud knock on the door.

"Open here!" demanded a voice in Russian. "Open, in the name of the Czar!"

CHAPTER XXX
A SURPRISE FOR LARRY

As the days passed, the watch upon Port Arthur from the sea became closer and closer. Admiral Togo gave strict orders that no ships should be allowed to enter or come from the harbor under any circumstances, and each commander of a warship was on his mettle, knowing full well that if he was derelict in his duty he would speedily hear from his superior in a manner far from pleasant.

Blockading became something of a monotony to Larry and Luke, and after several weeks had passed both wished something would happen.

"I'd rather put up with a stiff sea fight than this," declared the young gunner's mate.

"Right ye are, lad," replied the old Yankee tar. "Ain't no use o' bein' ready for a tussle if it ain't comin'. As it now is, life in the navy ain't no more excitin' nor life on the old Columbia."

During that time Larry received a letter from Captain Ponsberry, similar in contents to that sent to Gilbert. The Japanese Government had released the cargo of the schooner and then bought the same at a good round price. The ship had also been released, Captain Ponsberry having to pay a nominal sum for this action.

"I think the captain is lucky to get off so easily," said Larry. "I suppose the Japanese Government might have scooped in everything."

"Well, the Japs think it best to remain friendly to the United States," answered Luke, and it is likely that the old sailor was more than half right.

Cold weather had come in earnest and work on deck was far from pleasant. Yet each man on the Shohirika had to do his full duty as before, and, be it said to their credit, not a sailor or marine did any shirking. Gun drills and various exercises were kept up constantly.

One day the warship ran close to a big trading brig bound for Hong-Kong. As was the custom, the brig stopped to allow the commander of the Shohirika to make certain that she was not carrying contrabands of war for Russia or had no intentions of running the blockade.

While this examination was going on, Larry and Luke chanced to come on deck, curious to have a look at the stranger.

"About as big a brig as I ever see in these parts," was the Yankee tar's comment. "She must carry a whopping cargo."

"Yes, and a lot of men to man her," answered Larry. "Think of hoisting and furling such sails as she carries!"

The two vessels had come fairly close to each other, and our friends continued to survey the brig with interest. Then Larry gave a cry.

"Oh, Luke, I wish I had a glass!"

"Why?"

"Unless I am mistaken, there is Shamhaven on the deck of that ship!"

"No!"

Larry pointed with his hand. "Doesn't that look like him?" he continued.

"Keelhaul me, if I don't think you're right, lad. Wait, I'll get a glass an' make certain!"

The old tar knew where he could borrow a glass, and in a minute more he returned, and both took a brief look through the instrument.

"It is Shamhaven!" ejaculated Larry. "And look, there is Peterson coming from the fo'castle!"

"That's so. What ye goin' to do about it?"

"Tell the officer of the deck. They shan't get off with my money if I can help it."

Rushing away, Larry soon acquainted the proper officer with what he had discovered – telling as much about the robbery as seemed necessary. The officer was interested, and, what was even more to the point, liked the young American.

"Do you wish to go to yonder ship and confront the men?" he asked.

"Try me and see!" answered Larry, excitedly. "I mean, yes, sir," he stammered. "And will you let Luke Striker go, too?"

The officer agreed, and soon another small boat put off from the warship, and Larry and Luke, with the officer, were speedily landed on the deck of the brig.

"You're a fine rascal, to rob me!" cried Larry, rushing up to Shamhaven. "And to rob Captain Ponsberry, too!"

Shamhaven had not expected this encounter, and for the moment he was dumbstruck. He gazed from Larry to Luke as if they were ghosts.

"I – I – who are you, anyway?" he stammered. "I don't know you," he added, striving to regain his composure.

"Yes, you do know me, and you know Luke Striker, too," answered the young gunner's mate.

"What does this mean?" asked the captain of the brig, while a number of others looked on with interest.

"I'll tell you what it means, sir," said Larry, and did so. "He has got to give up my money belt and my money, and give up Captain Ponsberry's money, too."

At this moment Peterson came up and was promptly collared by Luke.

"Stop! Don't you vos touch me!" cried Peterson. "I ain't noddings done, no."

"You helped Shamhaven to rob me," came from Larry.

"No, he done it all alone! I no touch noddings!"

"Oh, shut up!" roared Shamhaven, in disgust. "I never robbed anybody. If you lost your money Peterson must have taken it."

A quarrel ensued between the evildoers, in the midst of which came a cry from the Shohirika.

"An enemy is in sight!"

At once all attention was turned to the warship. Scarcely a minute elapsed when a signal was displayed:

"A battleship, and she is trying to escape up the coast!"

"To the boats!" roared the Japanese officer on the deck of the brig. "To the boats at once! This investigation will have to be postponed. We shall expect you to remain as you are" – the latter words to the captain of the big brig.

"As you will," was the smooth answer.

A rush was made for the two small boats, Larry and Luke being hustled along with the crowd. Soon they put off for the warship, which was already preparing to follow the Russian battleship that had been seen.

"I didn't get my money, after all," grumbled the youth. "But perhaps I'll get it later – if that ship of the enemy doesn't sink us," he added.

As soon as they were on board of the Shohirika again, the cruiser started after the battleship. But the enemy had a good lead, and it was some time before the Japanese warship could command a full head of steam, which meant everything to her. Then, when steam was to be had in plenty, there came a breakdown in the engine room, causing a delay of twenty minutes.

"We'll never catch her, – at least, not to-day," said Luke, and he was right. Darkness found the battleship still three miles away. Half a dozen shots were fired at her, but none took effect. Then night ended the pursuit.

In the morning nothing was to be seen of the enemy and those on the Japanese warship were much depressed, for they had fancied that an encounter might add greatly to their laurels. But shortly before noon the lookout announced the approach of another ship.

"A Russian cruiser!" was the cry.

This was correct – the vessel was the auxiliary cruiser, Pontomuk, formerly a steamer in the Siberian trade. She was manned by a fierce and swarthy-looking body of sailors and marines, and carried a first and second battery of no mean proportions.

"I'll wager we have got some work cut out for us now," said Larry, and he was right. Finding she could not run away from the Shohirika the Russian auxiliary cruiser came steaming up and let drive at close range, – a broadside that raked the Japanese warship from end to end with deadly effect. The Shohirika answered immediately, and both the steering wheel and the rudder were smashed on the enemy's ship.

"Phew! but this is hot work!" panted Larry, as all those around the gun worked like Trojans.

"An' it's going to be hotter!" ejaculated Luke. He sighted the piece with care. "There, Sally Jane, let her go!" And he pressed the electric button. Bang! went the gun with a roar that was deafening. Then the breech was thrown open and the smoke rolled out, filling the air with a smell that made them cough and sneeze. But nobody stopped work. In a trice the gun was cleaned and cooled and another shell pushed into place, and then the firing was repeated.

"She's coming alongside!" was the announcement from on deck. "All hands to repel boarders!"

"A hand-to-hand fight!" cried Larry, and scarcely had the words been uttered when there came a bump that hurled half the sailors flat. Up they sprang, and as order after order was delivered the marines and others ran for their guns and cutlasses, while the officers saw to it that their pistols were ready for use.

A wild, maddening yell came from the deck of the Russian ship, as marines and sailors poured over the side. An answering Banzai issued from the Japanese, and they met the first onslaught with vigor. Then came a fierce tramping over the deck, as the two conflicting parties moved first to one side and then the other.

"We are ordered up!" cried Larry, a few minutes later. "Here is where we have got to fight for it, Luke!"

"Right you are, lad. Do your best, and trust to Heaven for the rest!" was the Yankee tar's reply. And then, cutlasses in hand, both mounted to the deck, to engage in the fiercest hand-to-hand encounter either of them had ever experienced.

CHAPTER XXXI
A CALL TO REPEL BOARDERS

It was a battle royal from the start and for some time neither side had an advantage. Pistol shot was met by pistol shot, and a rifle gun placed on the upper deck of the Russian warship was balanced in execution by a similar gun mounted on the Shohirika. The slaughter created by both weapons was frightful, a dozen or more going down on either side each time a gun was discharged.

When Larry and Luke came out on desk the spectacle was enough to make the blood of the youth run cold, and it was only his previous experience in warfare which rendered him capable of doing what he knew was his duty.

"Charge on them!" came the cry in Japanese. "Kill them, or drive them back to their ship! Banzai!"

"Banzai! Banzai Nippon!" was the yell. "Hurrah for Japan!"

The Japanese had not expected a hand-to-hand fight and the closing in of the enemy aroused them as they had never been aroused before. For the first time Larry saw the sailors and marines awakened to their full fighting fury – a fury in which every Japanese scorns death and thinks that to die is glory for himself, his family, and his emperor. They leaped on the Russians with a ferocity that was appalling, and that first shock sent the Czar's men back to the deck from which they had come.

But the Russians were likewise aroused, and with cheers and yells they came on once more, leaping over the bodies of those who had fallen, and meeting shot with shot and cutlass stroke with cutlass stroke. Officers and men fought side by side, and many went down to a common death.

By instinct Larry and Luke kept close together, with the others from Luke's gun near at hand, and Steve Colton and Bob Stanford not far away. Each used his cutlass as best he could, warding off the blows of the enemy and dealing cuts whenever a chance appeared. Larry was glad that he had learned to use a cutlass so well, and soon found himself the match of almost any Russian who challenged him.

The fighting was now spread over the decks of both vessels, which were hooked together tightly and pounding broadside at every swell of the ocean. To attempt to blow up either ship would have been fatal probably to both – one dragging down the other – so no such attempt was made.

While the fighting was at its height, Larry suddenly found himself face to face with a Russian lieutenant of marines. The fellow had a pistol in his hand, and as Larry raised his cutlass to strike, he dropped the weapon on a level with the youth's head and pulled the trigger.

Had the bullet sped as intended it is likely Larry would have been killed. But just as the trigger fell, Luke, who was at Larry's side, knocked the pistol to one side with his cutlass and the bullet merely grazed Larry's hair. Then Larry leaped forward and gave the Russian lieutenant a thrust in the side which put the fellow out of the fight instantly.

For fully fifteen minutes the battle had now raged and it was growing hotter each instant. All of the available men on each ship were in the fray, and the cries and yells which resounded were deafening.

"We certainly can't keep this fight up much longer!" panted Larry. He had a cut on his left hand and one in the shoulder, but kept on with dogged determination.

"Well, we ain't goin' to surrender!" grunted Luke. "It's fight or die, I guess!" And he leaped forward once more.

Two tall Russians were directly in front of the old Yankee gunner, and both fell upon him with their cutlasses at the same instant. Luke was capable of warding off the weapon of one, but he was no match for the pair, and it speedily looked as if they would surely kill him.

"Back with ye!" he yelled, and swung his cutlass as rapidly as he could, but they crowded him still closer and then one made a thrust at his face and another at his body.

It was at this critical moment that Larry, who had been engaged with somebody else, saw his old war chum's predicament. With a leap he gained Luke's side, and down came his cutlass with a sweeping blow on the wrist of one of the enemy. The Russian dropped his cutlass to the deck and staggered back, his hand almost severed from his arm. Then Luke slashed the other Russian across the cheek, and both of the enemy hurried back behind the other fighters.

"Good fer you, Larry!" panted Luke, when he could speak. "They had me about cornered!"

"These fellows certainly know how to put up a stiff fight."

"You're wounded yourself. Better go below."

"No, I'm going to see it out. Why don't you go down yourself?"

"It ain't in me, thet's why," answered the old Yankee gunner.

Again came a fierce onslaught from the Russians. But the Japanese now had another rifle gun in place, and sharpshooters were crowding the fighting tops. The latter picked off the Russian officers, and this created a momentary confusion. Then came a sudden order to unlock the two ships and this was done.

"The Russian ship is going down!" was the yell, and the news proved true. An explosion below decks had torn a hole in the Russian warship's bottom and she began to sink rapidly.

The scene was now indescribable. Both the Russians and the Japanese on the doomed vessel endeavored to reach the deck of the Shohirika. In this struggle the majority of the Russians received the worst of it, and fully fifty of them, including not a few wounded, remained on board when the doomed warship took her final plunge beneath the waters of the sea. Eighteen Japanese were likewise drowned, including two under officers.

"Surrender, or we will drive you over the side!" was the command from the Japanese, and utterly disheartened by the loss of their ship, the Russians threw down their arms; and the fierce and bloody contest was at an end. The common sailors were driven forward and chained together or bound with ropes, and the officers were grouped near the stern, where a formal surrender was made by the captain of the lost ship giving up his sword. This formality over, the Japanese set to work at once, cleaning up the deck and caring for the wounded as well as the hospital accommodations of the Shohirika would permit.

"I never wish to see another fight like that," was Larry's comment, when he had washed up and had his wounds dressed. "It was simply a slaughter!"

"Right you are, lad," answered Luke. "An' I reckon I'm a-goin' to carry the scars o' it down to my grave." The old Yankee gunner had received several severe wounds, and he was glad enough to have Larry swing his hammock for him and lie down to rest.

The battle over, the captain of the Shohirika sailed away, to look for the big brig once more and to report to the flagship of the fleet. But the brig had taken time by the forelock and left for parts unknown.

"I suppose that is the last of Shamhaven and Peterson and my money," said Larry, when this news reached him. "I wish we had met that brig a week ago."

"Oh, it's possible we may see her again," said Luke, cheerfully. "But it gets me that she ran away, unless she had something to run for."

"She must have been carrying some contraband of war, Luke."

"It ain't unlikely, lad. Well, she's gone, an' it ain't no use to cry over spilt milk. When you write to Captain Ponsberry you can tell him ye saw them two rascals an' thet's all the good it did."

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

"Well?"

"I'm thinking that brig was bound for Port Arthur, and she'll slip into that port some dark and misty night."

"It's a risky piece o' business. Either our ships or the mines are likely to blow her up."

"That is true. But the Russians at the port must be getting desperate, and they'll most likely pay any kind of a price for supplies. A captain who ran the blockade successfully could make a fortune," returned Larry.

The young gunner's mate was right in his surmise. The big brig was a Russian vessel in disguise and loaded to her fullest capacity with supplies for the blockaded seaport. She had been fitted out at Vladivostok, but had taken a wide sea course, so as to pretend to have set sail from Nagasaki. Several Russian shipping merchants were interested in the venture, which was a private one, and among the number was Ivan Snokoff. From Captain Barusky, Snokoff had heard that fabulous prices could be obtained for needed commodities at Port Arthur, and he had invested nearly every ruble he possessed in the enterprise. If the vessel succeeded in reaching Port Arthur, Captain Barusky was to undertake the disposal of the goods shipped in Snokoff's name, and then the two were to divide the profits.

The big brig had come close to being wrecked off the coast of Japan and during a gale had run down a fishing smack containing Shamhaven, Peterson, and two Japanese. One Japanese had been drowned, and the three others from the smack had been made to join the crew of the big brig. This was agreeable to Shamhaven and Peterson, who did not wish to remain near Nagasaki or at any place where Captain Ponsberry or Larry would be likely to discover them.