Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun

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 length 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.