O-Hana-San shook her head. "It is not permitted," she said. "I cannot invite you, Oto Owari. Only girls—no boys."
It was after school-hours. The children had been summoned to their tasks by a drum-beat, and at noon they had marched out of the schoolhouse, in orderly fashion, the boys in one division, girls in another. Once beyond the school limits, the two divisions became mixed. O-Hana-San was only nine years old, and Oto, being fifteen (this was about a dozen years before the building of the Retvizan and the cruise of the Osprey) considered that he did her great honour in applying for an invitation to her party. He scowled, at her refusal, and turned away abruptly.
"Come, Oshima," said he, to a comrade a little younger than himself, "let's go down to the shore." When Oto was disturbed in his mind he always wanted to "go down to the shore."
The town where he lived was on the west coast of one of the northern provinces of Nippon, the principal island of the group comprising the Japanese Empire. Oto was the son of one of the leading men of the place. He was a bright, earnest boy, and often, after he had been listening to the talk of his elders, he would gaze across the sea toward that mysterious country Korea, which he had heard his father say was "a dagger, aimed at the heart of Japan." He longed to fight for the Empire, which he adored with all the passionate worship of the true Japanese. He was an adept at seamanship, in a small way, before he was fourteen; perfectly at home in the water or on it; and possessed with an ardent ambition to join the navy which his country was then building up in wonderful new ways, taught by the pale-faced folk of the other hemisphere. His father could give him but little hope of attaining his wishes, for he could not let the lad serve as a common sailor, nor could he afford to give him the higher education necessary for an officer.
Oto's boon companion since childhood was Oshima, the son of a rich family who occupied a handsome villa on the outskirts of the town. Oshima's grandfather had been one of the famous Samurai, who carried two swords. When the edict had gone forth suppressing the order, or depriving it of its essential characteristics, he had joined a band of Samurai who refused to obey the imperial command, and in a fight which followed he had lost his life. Oshima's father was a peaceful man who cared little for war, but the boy himself had inherited his grandfather's love of battle, and made up his mind to enter the army. The two boys talked with each other of their plans and hopes, often and earnestly.
By the time the lads had reached the rocky shore just north of the village, they had forgotten all about little Blossom and her party. O-Hana-San was a great favourite with Oto, it is true, but when once the topic of the navy was raised, all other thoughts fled to the winds.
"Let us swim," said Oshima at length, when several prospective battles had been fought out, on sea and land. "I'm as warm as if I had been marching from Fusan to Seoul—where I shall march some day."
"Go you and swim if you want to," replied Oto. "I have a plan here to work out, for manœuvring a battle-ship in the face of the enemy, with the tide setting out from land, and——"
"Oh, bother your tides!" laughed Oshima. "Here goes for a dip into them. I'll come out in ten minutes."
He was soon in the water at a good distance from shore, gamboling like a porpoise, swimming on his back, treading, and performing all sorts of antics.