"A kind of linoleum. It is found to answer our purpose much better than wood, and is used also in regular torpedo boats. Here, by the way, are our two six-pounder guns: these and the twelve-pounder up there constitute our bow fire, to be used when we are in chase of an enemy."
O-Hana-San shuddered, but said nothing.
"How large is this ship?" enquired the medical man, who was bent on acquiring statistics.
"About two hundred feet long, and twenty feet beam. She draws about six. Here is our conning-tower, with half-inch steel armour on it. We can steer from here, and in bad weather we have to, as one would be washed off the bridge."
The diminutive Japanese ladies peered inside. There was just room for two people to stand up, in the tower, and it was fitted with a compass, steering-wheel, telegraph to the engine-room, and voice-pipes to the torpedo tubes and various other parts of the ship.
"Only half an inch thick?" queried the surgeon, examining the armour plates. "How thick, then, is the ship's side?"
"Oh," said Oto, with a smile, "about an eighth of an inch. It's just as good as a foot, unless a shell strikes it. Will you step down here?" he added, leading the way to a lower deck.
The surgeon and the ladies tiptoed daintily down the short ladder, and found themselves in a long, low-ceiled room, with a table running along the centre, fore-and-aft, and two rows of lockers along the sides.
"This is the mess-deck of the sailors—the 'Jackies,' Americans call them," explained the commander, who of course, like every one else on board, spoke only in Japanese. "We are now under the turtle-backed forecastle-deck, you see."
A few men were down here, one stitching canvas, another mending his clothes, one writing a letter, and one stretched out, fast asleep.