The North Pacific

"Very true," said the lieutenant-commander, smiling. "I'm glad it was no worse. And Oto, Oshima, no more shore leave for you, while the Neva is in port!"

Liddon proved to be right in his conjecture. The police, arriving just too late to witness the affray, and seeing that trouble had arisen between sailors of different nationalities, hardly went through the form of pursuing the participants, and let the whole matter drop; such squabbles being common in every large seaport where war-ships lie in the stream and their crews have liberty ashore.

The Neva sailed for the Baltic two days later, and within a week Rexdale received orders from the Department to proceed eastward. Then came a succession of wonderfully beautiful days and nights on the blue Mediterranean, the Osprey tossing the foam from her stem in showers of sparkling silver, and startling the flying fish that flashed from wave to wave, until the low, tawny shores of Africa came in sight.

"To think that I'm actually gazing upon Egypt!" exclaimed Bob Starr, as he stood on the bridge one fair July morning. "Those are really the 'sands of the desert,' and that scraggy-looking feather-duster is a palm!"

Small vessels with great ruddy lateen sails hovered about the war-ship as she advanced. A shark's black, sickle-like fin drifted carelessly astern while the fierce fish, all alert below the surface, watched for prey.

Now Damietta was reached, and Port Said. The Osprey, awaiting her turn, meekly entered the Canal in the rear of a big Dutch merchant steamer. There was little for the officers or men to do, and they clustered at the rails, and on the quarter-deck, gazing out over the marshes and plains of Egypt – the crew blankly, for the most part; the more highly educated graduates of Annapolis with thoughts of the great, dim Past to which this storied land of the Pharaohs bore silent witness. Here Abraham wandered, from Ur of the Chaldees; across those sands marched the hordes of Rameses II., going up against the Syrians.

Now and then the ship halted in basins cut for the purpose, like railroad sidings, to allow northbound vessels to pass. Nearly every ship was flying the Union Jack, for three-quarters of all the tonnage that passes through the Canal belongs to Great Britain. Next in order of frequency came the French, Dutch, and Germans.

"Sure, it's hungry I am for the Stars and Stripes," said Pat, gazing gloomily at a broad German ensign at Ismalia, half-way across the Isthmus. "I'm tired o' jumpin' lions and two-headed aigles and rid crosses!"

Onward again. Here a little village of mud-huts, with its clump of "feather-dusters," as Bob persisted in calling the palms; there a caravan plodding along the marshes against the sky-line. Flocks of water-fowl faring gracefully over the broad pools gave place to yellow sands, and the sands again to clear green water and sighing reeds.

At last the good ship Osprey emerged from the narrow, lonely, sluggish stream into the sparkling waters of the Indian Ocean.

CHAPTER VII.

O-HANA-SAN'S PARTY

O-Hana-San was to give a party. She announced the fact with pride to her schoolmates, who, with the frankness peculiar to childhood, eagerly demanded invitations. Had they been older, they would have called on the lady who was to entertain, and, after flattering her and making their personal regard for her as prominent as possible, would have brought the conversation round to the party, in order to show that they knew all about it and of course should expect an invitation. Being little girls, they just said, one and all, "Oh, do ask me to come, Hana!"

Miss Blossom (for that is the English equivalent for her name) considered.

"I can only invite twelve," she finally announced. "Twelve girls," she concluded, with a sigh; "no boys."

"Why not?" demanded one of the larger boys, pushing forward. "You must ask me, anyway, Hana!"

O-Hana-San shook her head. "It is not permitted," she said. "I cannot invite you, Oto Owari. Only girls – no boys."

It was after school-hours. The children had been summoned to their tasks by a drum-beat, and at noon they had marched out of the schoolhouse, in orderly fashion, the boys in one division, girls in another. Once beyond the school limits, the two divisions became mixed. O-Hana-San was only nine years old, and Oto, being fifteen (this was about a dozen years before the building of the Retvizan and the cruise of the Osprey) considered that he did her great honour in applying for an invitation to her party. He scowled, at her refusal, and turned away abruptly.

"Come, Oshima," said he, to a comrade a little younger than himself, "let's go down to the shore." When Oto was disturbed in his mind he always wanted to "go down to the shore."

The town where he lived was on the west coast of one of the northern provinces of Nippon, the principal island of the group comprising the Japanese Empire. Oto was the son of one of the leading men of the place. He was a bright, earnest boy, and often, after he had been listening to the talk of his elders, he would gaze across the sea toward that mysterious country Korea, which he had heard his father say was "a dagger, aimed at the heart of Japan." He longed to fight for the Empire, which he adored with all the passionate worship of the true Japanese. He was an adept at seamanship, in a small way, before he was fourteen; perfectly at home in the water or on it; and possessed with an ardent ambition to join the navy which his country was then building up in wonderful new ways, taught by the pale-faced folk of the other hemisphere. His father could give him but little hope of attaining his wishes, for he could not let the lad serve as a common sailor, nor could he afford to give him the higher education necessary for an officer.

Oto's boon companion since childhood was Oshima, the son of a rich family who occupied a handsome villa on the outskirts of the town. Oshima's grandfather had been one of the famous Samurai, who carried two swords. When the edict had gone forth suppressing the order, or depriving it of its essential characteristics, he had joined a band of Samurai who refused to obey the imperial command, and in a fight which followed he had lost his life. Oshima's father was a peaceful man who cared little for war, but the boy himself had inherited his grandfather's love of battle, and made up his mind to enter the army. The two boys talked with each other of their plans and hopes, often and earnestly.

By the time the lads had reached the rocky shore just north of the village, they had forgotten all about little Blossom and her party. O-Hana-San was a great favourite with Oto, it is true, but when once the topic of the navy was raised, all other thoughts fled to the winds.

"Let us swim," said Oshima at length, when several prospective battles had been fought out, on sea and land. "I'm as warm as if I had been marching from Fusan to Seoul – where I shall march some day."

"Go you and swim if you want to," replied Oto. "I have a plan here to work out, for manœuvring a battle-ship in the face of the enemy, with the tide setting out from land, and – "

"Oh, bother your tides!" laughed Oshima. "Here goes for a dip into them. I'll come out in ten minutes."

He was soon in the water at a good distance from shore, gamboling like a porpoise, swimming on his back, treading, and performing all sorts of antics.

Oto had drawn a piece of paper from his pocket and was absorbed in tracing a diagram of a sea-fight. After a while he glanced up carelessly; then he sprang to his feet with a wild cry.

"Come in! come in, Oshima! Quick! There's a shark after you!"

At first Oshima did not understand; but he saw the other's gesture, and looked over his shoulder. There, not a hundred yards away, was the dreaded black fin, glistening in the afternoon sun, drifting rapidly toward him like the sail of a child's toy-boat.

The swimmer struck out for the shore with all his might. He was in a little bay, and Oto, springing down headlong over the rocks, perceived that his friend was a little nearer the southern point of land than the central beach from which he had started.

"Make for the point – the point!" he shrieked, gesticulating wildly.

Oshima veered to the right, and the black fin followed. Oto plunged into the sea and swam straight toward the shark. There was no more shouting now; only two dark heads bobbing in the waves, and the little black sail dancing toward them.

Oshima now began to beat the water with his hands, making a tremendous splashing. The great fish, startled by the commotion, paused, and the ugly fin seemed irresolute. Oshima was now swimming more slowly. Younger than Oto, and far less robust, he was becoming exhausted. Every moment he expected to feel the clutch of those terrible jaws. He struck out madly, but made little progress.

The shark, meanwhile, made up his mind. The new morsel was coming directly toward him, while the first seemed in a fair way of escaping to shallow water if not to the land itself. The monster, with a twist of his tail, turned again and made for Oto, though not very rapidly, for the splashing made the fish wary.

At last the critical moment came. Oto had heard an old pearl-fisher tell of many a battle with the man-eating sharks of the Pacific. As the huge creature began to turn, to seize his prey, the black fin disappeared. Quick as a flash Oto doubled himself in the water and dived. A moment later a red stain dyed the surface of the sea. The boy had drawn a sharp dagger from his belt and stabbed upward as his assailant passed over him.

There was no more battle. The shark had enough of Oto and fled for the depths of the ocean while his victor, watching sharply for his late foe, made his way ashore as swiftly as possible. He found Oshima stretched upon the sand, uninjured but almost unconscious from fright and exhaustion.

It was this incident, the self-forgetful valour of his son's friend, saving the former's life at the peril of his own, that led Oshima's father, a few days afterward, to make the offer that changed the boy's whole life. He proposed to the elder Owari to send Oto at his own expense to any naval school in the world, and educate him for the Japanese navy. Oto chose the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, as we have seen, and graduated with honour, resigning only to accept a post under his own Emperor.

Oshima meanwhile pursued his studies at the Military Institute in Yokohama, and received in due time his appointment as sub-lieutenant in the Japanese army. Entrusted with an important secret mission a few years later the two comrades went to America, performed their duties faithfully, and, in pursuance of direct orders from high authority, concealed their identity by returning as cabin stewards; the men of the Osprey little dreaming that the meek, gentle "boys" whom they ordered to and fro on menial errands were officers, older and of higher rank than themselves, in the Imperial Army and Navy of Japan.

Thus the party of little O-Hana-San led to important results; for had not Oto applied to her for an invitation, and gone off to the shore sulking because of her refusal, Oshima would not have had his eventful swim, the shark would not have been disappointed in a meal, Oshima's father would not have felt the impulse of gratitude which influenced him to bestow a naval education upon his neighbour's son; in short the Retvizan's plans would never have been laid before the naval secret service authorities of Tokio, nor, in all likelihood, would Dave Rexdale have been so well served, in the absence of his two faithful Japanese stewards, on the outward cruise of the Osprey!

As for O-Hana-San, she had her party, and a gay one it was, as gaiety was reckoned in those parts. The little hostess duly sent out her invitations, and received her guests with all formality. Her dark, glossy hair was drawn back, raised in front, and gathered into a double loop, in which a scarlet bit of scarf was coquettishly twisted. She wore a blue flowered silk kimono, with sleeves touching the ground; a blue girdle lined with scarlet; and a fold of the scarlet scarf lay between her neck and the kimono. On her little feet were white tabi, socks of cotton cloth, with a separate place for the great toe (which was a very small one, nevertheless), so as to allow the scarlet-covered thongs of the finely lacquered clogs, which she wore while she stood on the steps to receive her guests and afterward removed, to pass between it and the smaller toes. All the other diminutive ladies were dressed in the same style, and, truth to say, looked like a company of rather expensive little dolls.

Well, when they were all assembled, she and her graceful mother, squatting before each, presented tea and sweetmeats on lacquer trays; and then they played at quiet and polite little games until dusk, when the party broke up, and O-Hara-San (Spring), O-Yuki-San (Snow), O-Kiku-San (Chrysanthemum), and the rest bobbed nice little bows and said, quite after the fashion of their elders, that "they had had such a nice time," and went home.

In the years that followed, O-Hana-San, the Blossom and the prettiest girl in the town, had but little chance to invite Oto to her parties, nor could the gallant young Japanese take her to the Academy hops; but he wrote to her constantly, and now, as the Osprey cut the waters of the Indian Ocean with her snowy stem, he thought of the dark-eyed Blossom in the far-off little village of Nippon; and, as he tripped to and from the pantry, and returned with delicacies for the cabin table, balancing himself gracefully against the rolling and pitching of the vessel, wondered how soon he should stand before her on the quarter-deck of his own ship, clad in the brilliant uniform of his rank. As for Oshima, he had been waiting eleven years for a good chance to give his life for Oto!

CHAPTER VIII.

A BATCH OF LETTERS

[Dick Scupp to his Mother.]"On board the 'Osprey.'"December 20, 1903.

"Dear Mother:

"I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am well and hope you are the same. We left Manila two weeks ago and came to this place, which is Chefoo. It sounds like a sneeze, doesn't it? It is a Chinese port on Shantung Peninsula, pretty nearly opposite Port Arthur, which as you know is occupied by the Russians. I wish I could be home next Friday, which is Christmas. Tell Katy to think of me and I will bring home something in my box for her. I am sorry to say I have lost that pair of stockings you knit for me. I forgot and left them on the deck instead of putting them in my bag and Jimmy Legs got them when he came round, and popped them into the lucky-bag. I might have gone up to the mast the next day and claimed them, but a lot of us were going ashore (it was when we were at Shanghai) and I didn't want my liberty stopped, so I let them go, and Sam Bolles bought them at the auction afterward for nineteen cents. That is all I have to say at present.

"From your loving son,"Richard."[From Oto Owari to O-Hana-San.]Translated"Sasebo, January 2, 1904.

"The exalted letter which you augustly condescended to send me on the 13th day of the 10th moon filled me with great felicity, to know that you are in ever-increasing august robustness, as you were tormented with light fever when I worshipped your eyebrow1 a short time before. I do not know where I shall go next. I see Oshima almost daily at the barracks. A new ship is fitting out at the docks, the Fujiyama, and it may be that I shall have an appointment to her, or it may be that I shall have to go under the water. You will understand later. I am now awaiting orders. Although the war-cloud in the west is dark, the people in Tokio celebrated New Year's Day with rejoicing and festivity, as usual. The houses and shops, Oshima told me, were covered with fruits and flowers, and the streets decorated with flags and lanterns. Many bands of men marched through the city singing old war-songs of the Samurai. All the fairs were crowded. Pray condescend to take august care of your exalted health. I knock my head against the floor.

"Remembrance and respectful veneration.

"Oto.

"To O-Hana-San."

[Hallie to Lieut. Com. David Rexdale, U. S. N.]Extracts"Boston, November 15, 1903.

"Dear Dave:

"You can't tell how anxious I am to hear from you. Your last letter, mailed at Suez, was a very short one. You told me you had a despatch from Washington ordering you to Shanghai instead of Hongkong, and I ought to have received a letter from that city; but I haven't and I'm worried about you. If it didn't cost so much I would cable instead of writing. Do write to me at once. If anything should happen to you2…

"In September I had a little visit with the Holmes. Norman has been detached from the Brooklyn Yard and appointed to the Vulture, which probably will join the Asiatic squadron this winter or in the early spring. Our old friend Tickerson has received his commission as lieutenant (first grade) and his wife writes me gleefully on the increase of pay as well as glory. Do you remember when you introduced me to her, at Annapolis? They say 'Girlie' is just as proud of her as he was in the old days, when the other cadets (all but you, of course, Dave!) used to envy him as he walked down 'Lover's' with her.

"You would be interested in the football situation this fall, if you were here. O, if only…

"Well, as I was about to say, Harvard is of course straining every nerve to get into condition for Yale. The game comes off in about ten days, and I'm going over to Cambridge to see it. Who do you suppose is going to take me? Why, dear old Uncle Richard, who happens to be spending a few weeks East, on business. Little Hallie Holmes is the dearest baby in the world. Wasn't it lovely in Anemone to insist on naming her for me? Aunt Letitia is tremendously interested in two things – anti-vivisection and the Russo-Japanese trouble. She has attended several hearings at the State House, and at one of them she spoke her mind out so forcibly that old Jed, bless his heart, made a great racket pounding on the floor and set everybody applauding. He had sneaked in without Aunt's knowing it, and on reaching home was heard to express a strong desire to 'keelhaul them doctors.' He takes great delight in his lofty 'cabin' and regularly goes out 'on deck' at the top of the house every night, to have a last smoke and a 'look at the weather,' like Captain Cuttle, before turning in. Aunt Letitia reads every scrap she can find in the papers about Russia and Japan, and so, for that matter, do I. Sometimes my sympathies are with one nation and sometimes with the other. Of course Japan is ever so much the smaller of the two, and her people are so quick and bright that nearly everybody takes their side and hopes that if there is a war she will win. But then Russia sometimes seems to me less like a bear than a great Newfoundland dog, and, as somebody has said, it's fairly pathetic to see how she has been trying all these years to get to the water; that is, to the open ocean, where she can have a navy, big and well trained, like other nations. Her ships in the Baltic seem like boats in a tub. Anyway I do hope and pray that there won't be any war, after all. Surely we humans know enough, have got evolutionised enough, in this twentieth century, to settle a dispute without fighting like savages.

"I miss you every day… Write to me as soon as you can…

"Your loving wife,"Hallie."[From Fred Larkin to Lieutenant Staples.]"San Francisco, December 29, 1903.

"My dear Lieutenant:

"'If you get there before I do,Tell them I am coming too!'

"As I expected, the Bulletin doesn't propose to get left on any unpleasantness in the Extreme East, nor even to take its chances in a syndicate. It wants real news, straight from the front, and, naturally, it hits upon Yours Truly to pick it up. I wrote to Rexdale just before leaving Boston, so it is probably no surprise to you that I have crossed the continent and am about to embark for Yokohama. Indeed I may make my bow to you on the quarter-deck of the Osprey before you receive this letter! The papers are full of correspondence and abstracts of diplomatic papers from St. Petersburg and Tokio. The language of these communications between the State Departments of the two countries is bland and meek as the coo of a dove or the baa of a lamb; but mark my words, my boy – there's going to be a war, and a big one. There must be, to justify my going out to report it! Do you remember how a reporter in Havana in 1897 is said to have cabled to the home office of a certain 'yellow' journal not unknown to fame, 'No war here. What shall I do?' And the editor of the newspaper cabled back, 'Stay where you are, and send full reports. I'll provide war.' Well, our venerable and sagacious friend Marquis Ito, together with the amiable but distracted Ruler of all the Russias, will 'provide war' for me to write up, and that before many days. And the little Japs will strike first, see if they don't! Tell Rexdale, please, that I'm on my way. If anything good happens before I see you, 'make a note on,' and give it to me for a Bulletin story.

"Yours ever,"Larkin."[From Lieutenant Commander Rexdale to Hallie.]Extract"Cavite, P. I., December 2, 1903.

" … From Shanghai we were ordered to this port, where we have been lying for nearly a month, doing guard duty. Next Thursday we sail for Chefoo, the Chinese seaport not far from Wei-hai-wei, where Pechili Strait opens into the Yellow Sea. At that station we shall be quite near Korea and Port Arthur, and if there is any trouble we shall be spectators, though almost certainly not participants, so you need not worry when you see by the naval despatches at home that we are on the outskirts of the Debatable Land. It is hard, I've no doubt, for you to realise how the war-fever is growing, out here. I am told that the Japanese have been steadily preparing for this final trial of her strength with Russia for years past. You may be interested in the make-up of the Jap. army. Under the present law all males are subject to conscription at the age of twenty. There is no distinction of class, and there are no exemptions except for physical disabilities, or because the conscript is the sole support of indigent parents, a student in certain schools, or a member of certain branches of civil service.

"The first term of service is between the ages of twenty and twenty-three. Then the soldier enters the first reserve, where he serves between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-six. After that he goes to the second reserve, where his service is between the ages of twenty-six and thirty-one; and then to the general national reserve, which includes all males between the ages of seventeen and forty not already in active service.

" … I was called off, yesterday afternoon, from my writing, and later in the day I learned that there is trouble in Seoul, the capital of Korea. There are lots of Japanese and Russians there, and, with the Korean natives hating all foreigners, there is material for a good deal of disturbance. Several riots have occurred in the streets, and it is said that our minister has cabled to Washington asking for a war-ship at Chemulpo, the port of Seoul. If the Department assents, the talk is that either the Wilmington or the Osprey will be detailed for that duty. I must say I hope it will be our little ship, and so do all our officers. Midshipman Starr puts it very well: 'When I was a boy, I always liked to get right up against the ropes at a fire!' He isn't much more than a boy now, but he's a fine fellow, and I'd trust him to do his part in an emergency…

"Later.– The Vicksburg is the lucky ship, after all. She has sailed for Chemulpo, and a party of marines will be landed and sent up to Seoul to protect our Minister and all other Americans and their interests in the city. The gunboat is commanded by Com. W. A. Marshall, whom you will remember meeting in Washington at the ball three years ago. His ship is about the size of the Osprey, and carries six guns.

"I hear that the Japanese fleet at Nagasaki is removing all superfluous wood-work, filling its bunkers with hard steam coal, and preparing, in general, for business. We sail for Chefoo at 9 A.M. to-morrow…

"Your loving husband,"Dave."

CHAPTER IX.