In the Yellow Sea

by Henry Frith

"Perhaps he might. He would not refuse a volunteer; and you could steer the boat I suppose? Shall I ask the lieutenant?"

"Please," I replied. "Anything will be better than loafing here!"

"We shall not 'loaf' as you call it. The admiral has signalled us to be ready to support the attack, and no hammocks will be slung to-night."

"All right," I said; "the sooner the better! Where are we making for now?"

"For the western entrance. The main and second squad are guarding the eastern. That island with a fort upon it may give us a hint presently."

We continued to steam slowly to and fro all the morning. The roar of the engagement increased every minute, and all hands became excited. It was like a cat watching a mouse in a cage. We were so many cats prowling about the cage in which numerous Chinese "mice" were calmly seated watching us, while the dogs of war inland were worrying the dogs ashore. We could do nothing at our end, though it was pleasant to see the No. 3 and No. 4 squads had begun to throw shells at "long bowls" in the direction of the eastern batteries to support the land attack.

It was aggravating to see the big Chinese "mice" steaming inside the harbour, followed by some small craft—like micelets—between the islands, and assisting the forts, yet never venturing out into the gulf. But as the day wore into late afternoon a great white smoke arose on shore, and a fearful explosion rang the knell of the fort; with telescopes we could see the Chinese running away.

The admiral at this time signalled our No. 1 fleet to join him, and we went back to the long line, spreading ourselves all across the harbour outside. Then an order went out to try the boom that night, and the Chinese began to find our range from the islands, whence they began "pilling" us at frequent intervals, with the setting sun behind them, which interfered with the Japanese accuracy of fire. We managed to creep in to the east side and keep up the watch. Tomi was right; there was no hammocks slung. The men lay around the guns on mats.

That night was cold, and when I rose, shivering, I was glad to get warm clothing. As the day passed the snow and sleet came heavily down, and at last the storm hid everything. The wind and sea rose, and the thermometer and barometer fell fast. The ships were then fully exposed to the fearful storm on a lee shore; the thermometer was below freezing, and all chance of reducing Wei-hai-Wei more distant than ever! The climax for us came when the admiral, with three squadrons, retreated to the shelter of Yengching Bay, leaving us—the first squad—on guard in the snow and storm.

Yet not a single murmur arose from the ships which continued to watch the harbour, though the chances of the escape of the Chinese in such weather, and in such a gale, were infinitesimal. So the last day of January and the first of February passed in fearful discomfort, and without any opportunity of distinction, though all the other Japanese ships were in shelter, and thus left the Chinese to their own devices. When the cat is away the mice will play, and this proverb was fitly illustrated in this case, for on the 1st of February Admiral Ting destroyed all the guns in the western forts.