“You infernal scoundrel, I’ll make you suffer for that outrage! Heave-to at once, or I’ll fire into you.”
The boat was sweeping round on a starboard helm, and was now running practically parallel to us, at a distance of about a hundred feet.
“You will fire into me, if I don’t stop, you say? Is Russia at war with my country, then?” hailed Kusumoto.
There was silence for a minute or two aboard the destroyer, during which the two officers on her bridge consulted eagerly together. We could see that her engine-room telegraph stood at “Full speed,” yet, strange to say, she was only just holding her own with us. Then the commander of her again raised his megaphone.
“My instructions are that I am to examine the papers of all foreign vessels passing down the Red Sea,” he shouted; “and I must insist that you heave-to and let me board you.”
“I shall do nothing of the kind,” retorted our skipper. “I do not admit your right to board me, so try it if you dare. I believe you are nothing less than a pirate masquerading as a Russian ship of war; and I shall treat you accordingly if you do not sheer off.”
This defiance was more than enough for the proud and choleric Russian, accustomed to have his every order servilely obeyed. Such unparalleled insolence from a “little yellow-skinned monkey”—as the Russians had already begun to dub the Japanese—and in the presence of his own crew, too! It was unendurable, and must be severely punished. He called an order, and the Russian seamen, who had been standing about the deck, listening half-amused and half-indignant, to the altercation, made a move in the direction of the destroyer’s 4-pounder and her port torpedo deck tube. But our skipper had been expecting and keenly on the watch for such a move, and he now hailed again:
“Destroyer ahoy! Keep away from the tube and the gun, you men! If I see a man attempt to approach either, I will sweep your decks with Maxim fire. Do you hear what I say?”—as half a dozen men continued to slouch toward the tube. “Open fire, there, the starboard Maxim!”
Nakamura was at the gun mentioned, which he was keeping steadily trained upon the tube. At the word, he fired a single shot, and the bullet spattered into a star as it struck the mounting. The Russians halted as if turned to stone, and glanced anxiously at their commander. Kusumoto raised his megaphone and hailed:
“Is that enough, or will you have more? Now, sheer off at once, if you please. If you don’t, I shall fire again; and my next shots—with my Hotchkiss guns—will be at your waterline and your boilers.”