Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War

by Herbert Strang

Bob had already been initiated into the intricacies of 'go', the Japanese equivalent of chess. He played, and took a beating with a sang-froid that the self-contained Japanese themselves could not excel.

Now the Mikasa altered her course and steamed N.N.E., passing outside the Mackau Islands, and thence across the Yellow Sea to the Shantung promontory. Early on the afternoon of the next day the fleet had come within six hours' easy steaming of Port Arthur. It was bitterly cold, but the sea was smooth and the air clear, and Bob, who had borrowed a telescope, often swept the horizon in eager search of any sign of Russians, expecting that they would be scouring the Yellow Sea to get the earliest possible intimation of a Japanese attack. No war-ship was to be seen; only a few Japanese junks were sighted beating up against a brisk south wind, making for Kiauchau or the Yang-tze ports.

Suddenly, at a signal from the flagship, the squadron slowed down until the vessels had only steering-way; and the order was given to clear for action. With wonderful celerity the men moved hither and thither, stowing away wooden bulk-heads, mess-tables, benches, and other inflammable articles of furniture, to avoid the risk of a conflagration on board as the result of bursting shells. The decks were drenched with water and sanded; some of the seamen filled the boats from their hoses; some stacked coal around the bases of the funnels; others hung canvas screens round the Maxims and the smaller quick-firers. Ammunition hoists were rigged, the guns were cast loose, and hammocks were heaped around the conning-tower to protect this vital centre from flying splinters. Below decks the torpedo crews were busily overhauling the tubes, while the gunnery staff were preparing fuses and seeing that shells were collected in readiness for hoisting.

Watching these preparations, careful not to get in the way, Bob wished with all his heart that he could have taken an active part instead of being a spectator merely. If, as seemed probable, a night attack was in question, there would be little scope for the range-finder, and in any case he himself would not be required unless the instrument failed, which from his examination he thought unlikely. But the circumstances in which he found himself were so novel, that even though he could do nothing, the anticipation of what he might see warmed his blood and filled him with excitement.

Dusk fell; once more the vessels went ahead, steaming at half-speed. "We shall be within fighting range of Port Arthur before midnight," said Yamaguchi confidentially to Bob. The orderly confusion of the preceding hours had now given place to a quietude which was even more impressive. The Mikasa seemed to be pervaded by a tense expectancy, officers and men stood in silent watchfulness, and when they spoke it was in low tones, and disconnectedly. Admiral Togo stood with Captain Igichi and the navigating officer on the conning-tower, whose top had been removed; and Bob felt that every man on board had unbounded confidence in his cause, his admiral, and himself.

The vessels showed no lights. In the growing moonlight they glided along like monstrous ghosts. Only the phosphorescent gleam of the huge waves thrown up by their bows gave indication that these were no unsubstantial fabrics, but huge bulks of metal forcing their way, by favour of the toil and sweat of self-sacrificing engineers and stokers far below decks, against the resistance of the mighty element.

As the fleet drew moment by moment nearer to the great port, the strain became intense. Conversation had entirely ceased; the deep silence was scarcely broken, it seemed, by the hollow throb of the engines. All eyes were strained to pierce the distance, to catch sight of the enemy that now, surely, could not be far away, and the first intimation of whose proximity might be the explosion of a torpedo hurling the vessel and every soul on board to destruction. Suddenly, on the port quarter, appeared the lights of four vessels steaming in the same direction as the fleet towards Port Arthur, the gleam from whose lighthouse had for some time been distinctly visible. A ruse was being practised on the Russians. The vessels were Japanese torpedo-boats, making direct for the harbour, in the expectation of being taken for scouting vessels of the Russian fleet. Would the trick succeed? The Mikasa glided on.

It was now past ten o'clock, and in the distance the heights above Port Arthur appeared a black ridge against the faintly moonlit sky, throwing deep shadows on the waters of the harbour. Between the Mikasa and the roadstead several small black spots could be seen dotting the surface of the sea. The four torpedo-boats crept gradually closer; they came unsuspected upon the outermost vessel of the Russian fleet. Suddenly the sounds of three muffled explosions, at intervals of a few seconds, vibrated through the air. Bob held his breath; this was the beginning of things: what had happened? In a moment, from the far distance, came the rattle of machine-guns, followed by the deeper boom of quick-firers, growing in volume until it seemed as if the whole armament of the Russian fleet was engaged. On board the Mikasa there was the clang of a bell. The vessel slowed down, then stopped; the other battle-ships followed her example; and as search-lights flashed from the Russian vessels and the forts, cutting brilliant white cones through the lesser radiance of the moon, Bob caught a glimpse for the fraction of a second of the low hull of a Japanese torpedo-boat speeding forward to discharge its deadly missile. Hard by was the vast bulk of a cruiser, and stretched in a long line in the roads lay a dozen other war-ships of varying sizes, from the huge Petropavlovsk, instantly recognizable by her monstrous form, to the few Russian torpedo-boats which alone seemed to be alert.

After a time the firing almost ceased; but the flashlights continued to make wild gyrations, and every now and then there was a renewed rattle of machine-guns from the Russian ships. Not a shot was fired from the Japanese fleet. In advance of the battle-ships the cruisers had steamed forward to support the torpedo-boats; but the general bombardment which Bob expected had not begun.

He was beginning to think that all was over, and wondering what had actually taken place, when a dull explosion broke the silence, followed by two other shocks. Immediately the Russian search-lights swept round towards the harbour, and the forms of the vessels were silhouetted against the illumination.