After passing the Chinese ships, and firing like demons until the ship actually quivered on the glassy water, we all—I mean the first four vessels—left the enemy on the starboard quarter, and turned to port. We had passed thus along in front of, and to the starboard side of, the Chinese, and now, in response to signals, rounded back, starboarding the helm, and came behind the advancing Chinese, having driven the small vessels away to the north.
Then the conflict began again for us, while the main squadron were attacking in front. I could perceive that some of our ships were getting badly hurt. One of the Japanese vessels came through the Chinese line most bravely, but came out shattered and in flames. Her bulwarks were smashed, and her deck shambles enveloped in fire, as she had met two Chinese dragons, veritable monsters, iron-cased.
Then we came in behind the main squadron, as the Chinese swept on and round to starboard to cut off our stragglers, and the main line of our ships came on on their quarters and gave them none. The "Rising Suns," their rayed naval ensigns, blowing out in the draught—for there was little wind—advanced with deadly intent, the flags floating proudly amid the smoke and flames.
Close came the fire, and still closer, as the Japanese "circled" in two divisions, and in opposite directions, around the Chinese ships. Shells crashed and shot thundered, bullets whizzed and sang in all directions, and over all the flame-streaked smoke of guns and furnaces poured out and hung upon the scene, as if to conceal man's awful passions and fierce conflicts. Through this Gehenna we rushed at great speed, tossing the water upon our sterns and bows, to leave it seething astern jotted with plunging shot.
One Chinese vessel, in particular, I noticed, which was most fearfully punished. We dosed her well, and passing on saw her sinking slowly, certainly, her decks battered and bathed in blood, her dead and wounded left, and her living crew shouting for the aid which never could come, as the ship heeled over and sank helplessly, the cries of the doomed Chinese being audible even above the fearful roar of the opposing guns.
ONE CHINESE VESSEL WAS MOST FEARFULLY PUNISHED
We, the Naniwa's, continued our chase of two Chinese ships for a while longer, and would have destroyed them willingly had not our captain seen a signal of recall. As he had both eyes—and not one blind side—he was compelled by discipline to return to the main squadron. It was then about half-past three p.m. In all these encounters the Naniwa, being last in the line, did not receive any damage, nor did I see a dead or severely injured man.
But when we came near the flagship I learned what war was.