'Port Arthur will soon be cut off, and then captured. No Chinaman who has in any way assisted the Russians to defend the place will be given quarter.'

All the labour of fortifying and arming the Fortress fell upon the 7th East Siberian Rifle Division, under General Kondratenko, and upon the reserve battalions. The work done by these simple, rough Russians was the work of Titans, and only those who watched them delving, shoving, and hauling on the slopes of those rocky hills for months can appreciate what the labour was.

General Stössel, hanging 'twixt heaven and earth, daily expecting orders to leave for the corps he commanded, now 'sat very tight.' All to whom Arthur and the honour and glory of Russia were dear were delighted, for they were convinced that in the hands of Smirnoff and Kondratenko the place would be transformed into a veritable inaccessible stronghold, if not too late. The Commandant held long and constant consultations with the officer in command of the fleet, at which combined operations were worked out, in case the enemy should land. Liao-tieh-shan was rapidly and energetically fortified. Canet guns were got into position, new telephone-lines were constructed, and the finishing touches were put to the mine defences. Arrangements were also made for high-angle fire over this hill, in case the Japanese fleet should attempt to repeat their tactics of March 10, and the guns in the coast batteries were mounted so as to allow of all-round traverse, and greater angle of elevation, and others were borrowed from the navy. The gunboats Otvajny and Giliak were stationed in the narrows as look-outs, and the cruisers issued at night by turns into the outer roads for the same purpose. Work went right merrily, confidence increased, and every one grew calmer.


[CHAPTER V]

STÖSSEL STAYS

Early on the morning of March 22 the enemy's fleet, in three divisions, consisting of six battleships, six armoured cruisers, and six second and third class cruisers, slowly approached us from different directions. At 7 a.m. our cruiser squadron, led by the Askold, flying the flag of the officer in command, slipped out into the outer Roads. In rear of them steamed the battleships. The enemy moved towards Liao-tieh-shan, and at 9.30 opened fire with their 12-inchers, which at measured intervals thundered forth one after another. First a bright yellow spurt of flame tinged with red, a little cloud of smoke, then the boom of a gun, followed by the horrid groan of the shell hurtling through the air, and the final crack of the burst.

From the top of Quail Hill the whole scene was clearly visible—the Fortress, the sea, and the ships. That day the Japs again fired 208 shells, the majority of which fell in the narrows, in the western basin, on Liao-tieh-shan, or in its vicinity; but their shooting was bad. We replied by indirect fire, and also enfilade fire from our ships, lying in the outer Roads. By 11 o'clock we got in several hits, and the enemy moved off, and, in spite of their superiority in numbers, did not attempt to prolong the battle. A good instance of the disregard shown by the army to these naval bombardments occurred that day. When the gun-fire ceased the rattle of musketry was heard from the direction of Pigeon Bay, and on the Commandant telephoning to ascertain what it was, it turned out that a company commander was merely putting his men through musketry.

The rest of that day we heard the names of Smirnoff and Makharoff on all sides, but never a word of Stössel.