Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun

should be first-rate shots, and as cool as cucumbers; for, hit or miss, I do not suppose we shall be afforded a chance to discharge more than the two torpedoes already in our tubes; therefore they must both hit. Now, are you a good shot with the torpedo?”

Ito solemnly assured me that there was not a better torpedo shot than himself in the whole Japanese fleet.

“And is your nerve all right? I mean, are you perfectly cool?” I demanded.

“As cool as the honourable cucumber,” he asserted. “Feel my unworthy hand.”

I could not help laughing. Here was the inevitable “honourable” being dragged in again. I seized his hand and held it loosely in mine for a few seconds. It was firm and steady as a rock.

“Good!” I said. “You will do, Ito. Go down and work the tubes, my boy, and see that you excel yourself to- night. And, Ito, if you love me, do not, for heaven’s sake, forget to withdraw the honourable safety pin from the honourable fan before you honourably fire the honourable torpedo, or you will make no honourable hits this honourable night. Do you honourably take me?”

There! I had fired off my little joke on Ito; illustrated to him, I fondly thought, the absurdity of indiscriminately dragging in the word “honourable” in and out of season. How would he take it, I wondered.

“The august captain may honourably rely upon his unworthy lieutenant to do his honourable best,” he gravely answered; and the next moment was “honourably” descending the bridge ladder to the deck. My miserable attempt at jocularity had absolutely missed fire; the dear, innocent fellow had accepted my speech as uttered in all seriousness.

It was at this moment that I first caught the loom of the Russian ships, showing up a deeper black against the black shadow of the frowning cliffs away to starboard; and a second or two later a long, brilliant beam of intensely white light shot out from one of the black shapes and slowly swept hither and thither, now striking the heaving surface of the black water, and anon vividly illumining one of her sisters. Our orders had been not to discharge at a higher range than five hundred metres.

Slowly, the beam swept round toward us until it halted and rested steadily upon a great lump of a craft that towered out of the water like a castle, almost immediately between itself and us. Luckily, the dazzling light itself was hidden from our eyes by the bulk of the ship upon which it rested, but it invested her with a sort of halo of radiance against which she stood out black and grim, a perfect silhouette. She was a big craft, evidently a battleship, with a lofty superstructure, three big funnels cased half-way up, a long overhanging bridge, and two stout military masts with fighting tops, and two yards across each. She was just within range, and, seizing a megaphone, I was in the act of raising it to my lips to order Ito to let fly at her, when I saw a long, silvery shape flash out from our after-deck, and a few seconds later a great cone of water leaped into the air and fell like a deluge upon the great ship, which seemed to lift half out of the water, as though hove up by a giant. A heavy boom followed, and I had the extreme gratification of knowing that the little Kasanumi’s first Whitehead had got home.

The explosion was quickly followed by several others; and in the midst of them a sudden transformation took place. The pitchy darkness gave way to the glare of a perfect network of searchlight beams streaming out from ship after ship and from the cliffs above, sweeping here, there, and everywhere, lighting up the fleet, the cliffs, the channel leading to the harbour, the lighthouse, everything, in fact, except our destroyers, which they all seemed to miss in the most miraculous way. Excited shouts came pealing across the water to us from the decks of the various ships, boatswains’ whistles shrilled, order after order was hoarsely bellowed, and with a rattling crash of gun-fire a perfect tempest of projectiles was sent hurtling out to sea from the now thoroughly awakened and panic-stricken Russians, not a solitary shot of which came anywhere near us; for the enemy seemed to have not the slightest idea of our actual whereabouts. And then, to add to the turmoil and confusion, the forts on the cliffs above opened fire with their heavy guns, and we heard the shells go muttering angrily far overhead, as the gunners ashore also fired into the offing.

The fleet as a whole now lay broad on our starboard beam, and we in the Kasanumi were crossing the bows of a two-funnelled battleship which, from her position as the outermost ship of the fleet, I knew must be the Tzarevich, when, out of the tail of my eye, so to speak, I again caught the flash of one of our Whiteheads as it leapt outward and plunged into the sea. Breathlessly I awaited the result, and presently, to my delight, I saw that our second torpedo had got home!

“Good old Ito!” I exclaimed aloud; and, as I spoke, the man himself stood beside me.

“Two hits!” he gasped, almost inarticulate with excitement and delight. “The Kasanumi has done her duty to-night.”

“She has,” I agreed; “and so have you, splendidly, old chap. This means immediate promotion for you, Ito; for you may rest assured that, if we get out of this alive, I will not fail to report to the Admiral what you have done. I don’t see—”

“Ah, but,” he interrupted me, “the real credit of it all belongs to you, not me. For if you had not warned me, I should certainly, in my excitement, have forgotten to withdraw the pins before firing the torpedoes. As it was, I very nearly did so when firing the first, but luckily your warning flashed into my mind at the very instant when I was about to fire. I am afraid that many of our men have forgotten that essential; for although all the torpedoes must be by this time discharged, I do not think that many ships have been hit.”

I had noticed the same thing myself, and was about to say so, but at this moment the Russian ships opened fire with their heavy guns, and conversation, which up to now had been difficult enough, became quite impossible owing to the deafening din. But I observed that the ships and batteries were all firing out to sea, whereas our destroyers were by this time between the fleet and the land, completely absorbed in the deep shadow of the lofty cliffs, so that up to that moment I believed we had remained unseen. Then the Asashio flashed the signal for Number 1 Division to retire at full speed, putting her helm hard a-port as she did so, for by this time we were running parallel with the shore on the west side of the harbour, and a few minutes more would have taken us to the harbour’s mouth, which was now brilliantly illuminated by the rays of some half a dozen searchlights, which it was essential for us to avoid if we wished to escape instant annihilation.

It was at this moment, when I was eagerly taking note of the most distinctive features of the harbour entrance, brought thus prominently into view—with the idea that such knowledge as I might then be able to acquire might prove useful at some future time—that three destroyers, coming out of the harbour at full speed, rushed across the illuminated area and, turning sharp round the Pinnacle Rock, headed almost directly toward us. A single glance sufficed to show that they were Russian craft, for they were of a different model from ours, and their four funnels were arranged differently from ours, being in pairs.

For a moment I believed that they saw and were about to engage us, I therefore laid my hand upon Ito’s arm to attract his attention, pointed to the boats, and then yelled in his ear:

“Russians! Stand by to give them a broadside as they pass.”

Ito nodded comprehendingly, and vanished from my side. A minute later, the leading Russian destroyer came abreast the Asashio, and Captain Matsunaga showed that he was as wideawake as the rest of us, by plumping a 12-pound and three 6-pound shells into her. Then came our turn, and we did the same, each of the four Japanese boats in turn firing all the guns that would bear upon each of the three Russian boats as they came up, without receiving a single shot in return; for, strange as it may seem, the Russians appeared to have no suspicion of our whereabouts until we actually fired upon them.

But perhaps we should have been wiser had we allowed our valour to be tempered with discretion, and refrained from attacking the enemy’s destroyers; for the flashes of our guns, low down near the surface of the water, were instantly observed by a hundred sharp eyes, eagerly seeking the whereabouts of the elusive enemy, and almost immediately every searchlight on ship and shore swept round until it rested full upon us, thereafter inexorably following our every movement, while a perfect tornado of shell and rifle-fire hissed and whined about our ears. But for this, it might have been not very difficult for us to have inflicted further damage upon the battleships and cruisers; but as it was, there was only one thing to be done, namely, to effect our escape with the utmost expedition, if, indeed, escape were still possible; for to remain until fresh torpedoes could be got up on deck and placed in the tubes, would mean our swift and certain destruction before the opportunity came for us to work further mischief. As it was, it was simply miraculous that we were not instantly blown out of the water; for, with a dozen or more searchlights bearing full upon us, we were as plainly visible as though it had been broad daylight; yet, strange to say, not a shot struck any of us, a circumstance which can only be accounted for upon the