No sooner had she done so, however, than she sighted the torpedo boat Mosquet, which had heard the firing and was coming in at top speed. The Emden immediately opened up on her, thereby causing her to turn around in an endeavor to escape. It was too late. After a running fight of twenty minutes the Mosquet seemed to be hit by three shells simultaneously and sank very rapidly. The German had got a second victim.
It was here that the chivalrous bravery of the Emden's Captain, which has been many times in evidence throughout her meteoric career, was again shown. If the French boats were coming out, every moment was of priceless value to him. Nevertheless, utterly disregarding this, he stopped, lowered boats, and picked up the survivors from the Mosquet before steaming on his way.
The English here now say of him, admiringly, "He played the game."
Meantime, boats of all descriptions had started toward the place where the Russian cruiser had last been seen. The water was covered with débris of all sorts, to which the survivors were clinging. They presented a horrible sight when they were landed on Victoria Pier, which the ambulance corps of the Sikh garrison turned into a temporary hospital. Almost all of them had wounds of one sort or another. Many were covered with them. Their blood-stained and, for the most part, naked bodies were enough to send shivers through even the most cold-blooded person. It was a sight I shall not forget for many a day. Out of a crew of 334 men 142 were picked up wounded. Only 94 were found practically untouched. Ninety-eight were "missing." It is not yet known how many of the crew of the 78 of the Mosquet were rescued by the Emden.
So much of the story I am able to write from personal observation and investigation. Here, however, is an account of what occurred from an officer who saw it all from closer range and more intimate conditions, for he was on the French torpedo boat destroyer Pistolet. I tell his story exactly as he told it to me:
"The Captain of the Pistolet had invited Capt. T. and myself to have a game of bridge whist on board. His ship was lying alongside the Government wharf, just inside the inner harbor. The game proved a most interesting one and time flew by unnoticed. Finally, just before 1 A.M., it came to a close, but, owing to the fact that our going home at that hour of the morning would mean a rikisha ride of over two miles, the Captain stretched a point and invited us to remain on board, which we did. Little did we know what our decision was to mean to us.
"At 5:25 the next morning, just as day was breaking, I was awakened by a deafening crash, followed by two others in rapid succession. Without waiting for more, I pulled my ducks over my pajamas and hurried on deck. Right before us, at the entrance to the inner harbor, lay the Russian cruiser Jemtchug. Steaming toward her at full speed came the German cruiser Emden, her bow guns belching forth vast clouds of smoke, through which the flash of the guns could just be distinguished. She was less than half a mile away. After what seemed to me an interminable delay, the surprised Jemtchug started to reply with her small guns, and the din grew greater and greater.
"As the Emden came on she swerved slightly out of her course and steamed down the far side of the channel, thus bringing her broadside guns to bear on the Jemtchug, which by this time was literally spitting fire. The range now was less than 300 yards, and the execution being done must have been terrible. We noticed, however, that the greater number of the Russian shells were 'carrying over.'
"The Emden now changed her course again, to the right, and disappeared behind a group of several tramp steamers so as to enable her to turn around without unduly exposing herself. While she was doing this the firing diminished greatly, owing to the disinclination on the part of either, I imagine, wantonly to damage harmless merchant vessels. No sooner had she started on her way out of the harbor, however, than the din arose once more.
"Just at this time the French torpedo boat Fronde dropped back from her position alongside us and started in to take part in the mêlée with a machine gun. This caused the Emden to devote part of her time to us, and we were made the objective of a severe machine-gun fire which, owing to our position in the shadow of the pier and of the fact that the light was very poor, did little or no damage. Nevertheless, it was rather disconcerting to hear the rattle of lead on the corrugated iron sheds behind us.