"Well, there must be a reason for it, Steve," answered Luke.
There was a reason for it. Admiral Togo had just received word that certain ships of the Port Arthur squadron were going to make an attempt to break out of the harbor, either that night or the next day. Consequently theShohirikawas needed further down the coast, and steamed away in that direction as rapidly as her somewhat limited supply of coal permitted.
"I don't think the navy will ever find its way into Port Arthur harbor," said Larry, later on, after studying a map of that locality. "There are too many forts on the hills outside of the town. They could smash our ships to smithereens if we got too close."
"Trust Admiral Togo to know what he is doing," answered Steve Colton. "He won't go too close. At the same time he ain't going to let the Russian ships get away any more than Schley and Sampson let Admiral Cervera get away from Santiago Harbor in Cuba."
"It's the army that will make Port Arthur a hot place to live in," came from Bob Stanford. "They can entrench and thus gain a little ground day by day, and as soon as they win some high point, like say 203-Meter Hill, it will be all up with General Stoessel, mark my words."
The night to follow proved to be misty, and so cold that the majority of the sailors were glad to don their heavy peajackets. Fearing that the enemy would try to take advantage of the weather, Admiral Togo turned on all the searchlights his fleet possessed, and these were flashed in all directions.
"False alarm," said Luke, after midnight had sounded out on the ship's bell. "Reckon the Russians don't dare to come out."
But the old Yankee tar was mistaken. The enemy were on the alert, and at three o'clock, when the mist was extra heavy, the movement to steal out of Port Arthur harbor was begun, two torpedo destroyers taking the lead, and several cruisers following. This brought on a heavy sea-fight lasting far into the next day, and one which came close to cost Larry his life.
For several days poor Ben remained a prisoner aboard of the small steamer. During that time only two men came near him—an under officer and the sailor who supplied him with food and water. Neither would answer his questions, so he could not learn where he was being taken or what was to be done with him.
One evening there was a slight commotion on the deck, and the course of the steamer was changed. Then came a blowing of steam whistles lasting several minutes. Finally the steamer came to a standstill.
"You are to leave this vessel at once," said the under officer, as he opened the door of the young captain's temporary prison. "Come, we have no time to spare."
"Where am I to go?" questioned Ben.
"You will soon learn. Hurry!"
There was no help for it, and soon Ben was on deck. He was made to enter a small boat and was thus transferred to another steamer—one which had formerly been in the East Indian trade but which was now acting as a Russian supply boat.
"What a dirty craft!" was his mental comment, after having been thrust into a pen which was little better than a horse stall. The supply boat was loaded to its fullest capacity, so quarters for all on board were limited.
Two days passed and he received food which was scarcely fit to eat. When he protested he wasthreatenedwith a flogging. The air was foul and he began to fear that he would become sick.
"I won't be able to stand this much longer," he thought, dismally. "If they want to kill me why don't they do it at once and have done with it?"
On the following morning a surprise awaited him. He heard two Russian officers pause in front of his pen and one said to the other:
"Here is the prisoner, Captain Barusky."
"Is it the fellow named Russell?" was the question from Captain Barusky, the rascal who had aided Ivan Snokoff to make so much trouble for Gilbert Pennington.
"The same."
"They did not capture his friend?"
"No—in the struggle he slipped away."
"I am sorry for that. We wanted Pennington more than we did this fellow. But I am glad we got at least one of them. As I understand it they work hand-in-glove with each other;" and then the two Russian officers passed on.
Like a flash Ben realized the truth of the situation. His taking off had been a trap set by Snokoff and this Captain Barusky, who had hired the Chunchuses to help work out their plot. He was now in the hands of the enemy in more ways than one.
"They won't treat me as an ordinary prisoner," he reasoned. "This Captain Barusky will make it as hard as possible for me—more especially so as Gilbert managed to escape his clutches. Well, I am glad Gilbert got away."
Resolved to "take the bull by the horns," Ben asked the prison guard if he might speak to Captain Barusky.
"I will see about it," answered the sailor, and went off to find out. On his return he stated that the captain would visit the pen some time during the day.
The Russian officer came late in the afternoon, when nobody else was near the pen. There was a sarcastic look on his face when he gazed at the young captain.
"So you want to talk to me," he said, abruptly.
"I do, Captain Barusky. I want to know why this plot was laid against me."
"I know of no plot. You are an American in the employ of the Japanese Government as a spy. Russia captures all the Japanese spies she can."
"I am no spy."
The Russian shrugged his shoulders. "That is what your friend, Captain Pennington, once told me, too. Yet as soon as he got out of Port Arthur he was made a captain in the Mikado's army."
"He applied for the position because the Russians had mistreated him and because he loves active service."
"Have it as you please, Russell; both of you are spies, and you will have to suffer as one."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Since you seem so anxious to know, I will tell you, for I do not think you will be able to take the news to the Japanese. This boat is carrying supplies to Port Arthur."
"Port Arthur!"
"That is what I said. When we arrive there you will be placed in one of the strongest of our prisons at the port. Do you not admire the prospect?"
"Well, if you take me to Port Arthur, perhaps I shan't be a prisoner long," replied Ben, resolved to put on as bold a front as possible.
"And why not?" demanded Captain Barusky, curiously.
"Because our army and our navy are bound to capture the place."
"Bah! The Japanese will never take Port Arthur. It is absurd to think of it."
"It may not come right away—but it will come sooner or later."
"Never! But if it should, you will not be there to enjoy our downfall. Remember that spies are tried, and if found guilty they are taken out and shot."
"You cannot prove that I am a spy."
"That remains to be seen."
"If you bring me before the court I'll have something to say about your underhanded work with Ivan Snokoff. I can prove that he is a swindler and that you are his accomplice."
"Ha! you threaten me!" roared Captain Barusky, in a rage. "Have a care! I come from a most respectable family and I have great influence."
"Nevertheless, I think those who are higher in authority than yourself will listen to my story. The Russian army officers are as a rule gentlemen and strictly honest."
"Which means to say that I am not a gentleman and not honest!" bellowed Captain Barusky. "That, for your opinion!" And reaching out he gave Ben a ringing box on the ear.
It was the last straw. With no fresh air and no food fit to eat, the young captain was desperate, and leaping forward he struck at the Russian captain's nose. His fist went true, and as Barusky staggered back against the pen door the blood spurted from his nasal organ.
"Don't you dare to hit me again!" panted Ben, standing before the Russian with both hands clenched. "Don't you dare—or you'll get the worst of it!"
His manner made Captain Barusky cower back, and he glared at Ben with the ferocity of a wild beast. Then he called to the guard.
"Run for aid, Petrovitch," he said. "The prisoner has attacked me. He is a beast, and must be chained up."
The man addressed summoned three other sailors and the captain of the ship's guard. All came into the pen and forced Ben into a corner.
"The Yankee dog!" said the captain of the guard. "To dare to strike a Russian officer! Bring the chains at once!"
Chains were brought, and soon Ben was bound hands and feet, with links that weighed several pounds. Then a large staple was driven into one of the uprights of the pen and he was fastened to this with a padlock.
"Now place him on half-rations," said Captain Barusky. "It is the only way to tame him." And then he hurried away to bathe his nose, which was swelling rapidly.
If Ben had been miserable before he was doubly so now. The chains were cumbersome and cut into his flesh, and being fastened to the upright he could scarcely move a foot either way. To add to his misery the front of the pen was boarded over, so that what little light had been admitted to his prison was cut off.
In this wretched condition he passed a full week. In that time Captain Barusky came to peep in at him three times, and on each occasion tried to say something to make him still more dispirited. The food was so bad he could not eat and the air often made his head ache as if it would crack open.
"If this is a sample of Russian prison life it's a wonder all the prisoners don't go mad," he reasoned. "A few months of this would surely kill me."
At the end of the week Ben heard firing at a distance. The supply boat was now trying to steal into Port Arthur and had been discovered by a Japanese patrol boat. The craft was struck twice and the prisoner below heard a wild commotion on the deck, as one of the funnels was carried away. But darkness favored the Russians, and inside of two hours the supply boat passed into Port Arthur harbor without sustaining further damage. She was then directed to a proper anchorage by the harbor master; and on the following day the transfer of her cargo to the storehouses on shore was begun.
For several days longer Ben was kept on the boat. Then, one wet and cold morning, he was liberated and told to march on deck. From the vessel he was taken to a big stone building which was being used as one of the garrison quarters. Here he was given a scant hearing in the presence of Captain Barusky, who appeared against him.
"We have no time to investigate your case at present, Captain Russell," said the officer who conducted the examination. "But from reports I should surmise that you are a dangerous young man. You must remain a prisoner." And then the young captain was taken away. Later on, he was marched a distance of half a mile and blindfolded. When the bandage was removed from his eyes, he found himself in an old stone building, dirty and neglected. He was taken to a small room, having a grated window, and thrust inside. Six other prisoners were put into the apartment with him, one man with a hacking cough, dreadful to hear. The door was closed and barred; and all were left to take care of themselves as best they could.
Larry was taking a nap when the call came to clear the ship for action. It had been discovered that the Russian fleet was trying to escape from Port Arthur harbor, and the news was flashed from vessel to vessel of Admiral Togo's fleet, and all were ordered to prevent the movement at any cost.
"Now I reckon we are in fer it!" ejaculated Luke, as he and the youth rushed over to their gun. "Larry, it's in my mind we have some tall work cut out fer us this trip!"
"Let it come—I am in just the humor for fighting!" cried Larry. "I hope we can smash them just as we smashed the Spanish ships in Manila Bay."
Sailors and gunners were hurrying in all directions, and orders were coming in rapid succession. At first the Russian ships had turned in one direction, now they were turning in another, and, later still, they separated. A distant firing could already be heard, but where it came from those on theShohirikacould not tell.
So far no ships of the enemy could be seen with the naked eye. The lookouts kept a close watch, and the flashlights continued to play all over the bosom of the rolling sea.
It was almost daylight when a distant explosion was heard. A Russian torpedo boat had run into a mine and was so badly damaged that she sank inside of ten minutes, carrying a large part of her crew with her.
This disaster proved a warning to the other Russian ships and they proceeded on their courses with added caution. The Japanese warships were equally on the alert, yet, just as the sun came up, one brushed against a mine and received such damage that she was practically put out of the contest.
"There is one of the enemy's ships!" was the cry, as the mist swept away as if by magic and the sun came out strongly. "Now is our chance.Banzai!"
"And there is another ship!" came a moment later, "and one of our own pounding her as if she was a witch!"
Guns were now booming over the water constantly, and from the forts on shore came shots and shells in rapid succession. Soon theShohirikawas in the midst of the battle, and then Luke and Larry worked over the gun as never before, doing their full share towards disabling the ship that was trying to escape up the Manchurian coast.
For over an hour the running fire kept up. Neither ship dared to put on full speed, for fear of running into a mine. Solid shot was hurled in all directions, and theShohirikareceived one below the water line which for the moment looked as if it might sink the craft. But the ship's carpenter and his crew got at the leak immediately, driving in a wedge which quickly stopped the flow of water.
It was hard, exhausting work between decks, and at the end of an hour Larry felt he must have some fresh air. Both he and Luke applied for permission to go on deck, and this permission was readily granted, for the guns on their side of the warship were not then in use.
On the deck of theShohirikathey could see what this battle really meant. Dirt and debris were to be seen in many places, and half a dozen sailors and marines had been killed or wounded. Everybody was bathed in perspiration and grime, and some of those who worked the big guns were panting like dogs after a chase.
"It's work, that's what it is," said Luke, running the perspiration from his begrimed forehead with his finger. "Ain't no child's play about it!"
"And dangerous work at that," added Larry. He gave a look toward the enemy's ships. "I declare, Luke, I believe they are running back to Port Arthur harbor!"
"I think the same, lad," responded the Yankee gunner. "Reckon they are findin' it is goin' to cost too much to get away. As soon as they get away from them land batteries we can pound 'em for keeps and they know it."
"And get away from the mines. That's the worst with fighting around here—you don't know how soon you'll hit a mine and be blown up."
"Oh, I reckon our captain is watching out fer them pesky things."
Larry was interested in watching the sharpshooters and range-finders in the tops, and he walked across the deck to get a better look at them. Luke followed, and as he did so, one of the nearest of the Russian ships sent out a roaring broadside at theShohirikawhich raked her fore and aft and sent another hole through her side, but this time above the water line where it did scant damage.
"Gee Christopher!" began Luke, when he chanced to glance upward. "Larry, look out!" he screamed. "The top's coming down on ye!"
Luke was right. One of the shots from the enemy had struck the foremast, above the fighting top, and it was crashing down, carrying a portion of the ship's flag with it. One end struck the gun turret, and then the wreckage hit Larry on the shoulder, hurling him on his back.
The foremast was heavy and had it struck the youth before landing on the turret and the surrounding works it might have killed the young gunner's mate on the spot. As it was, Larry lay like a log where he had fallen and when Luke raised him up the old tar found him unconscious.
"If he ain't got his shoulder broke then I miss my guess," muttered the Yankee gunner. "Larry! Larry! Can't ye speak to me?"
"That was a nasty one," came from one of the officers of the deck. "Better carry him below." And then the officer gave orders to remove the wreckage and hoist the flag once more.
With the unconscious youth in his arms, Luke hurried below and to the sick bay of the warship. Here the surgeon got to work immediately and examined Larry thoroughly.
"No bones broken," he announced. "But the bruise is severe and he is suffering from shock. He will soon come to his senses."
Luke had to return to his gun, for duty is duty in the navy, regardless of what is happening around one. It was true, the Russian warships were now doing their best to sneak back into Port Arthur harbor and Admiral Togo wanted to do all the damage possible before the forts made it impossible to follow them further. All of the warships' guns were worked to their utmost, and when the Russian vessels did get back they were so badly crippled that they were of small consequence for future fighting until undergoing repairs.
When Larry opened his eyes again he found himself lying on a clean white cot in the ship's hospital with an attendant standing over him bathing his face.
"Oh!" he murmured and stared around him. "Oh, my shoulder! That was a fearful crack I got!"
The attendant did not understand, but smiled blandly and continued to bathe his face and also his head. Soon the full realization of what had happened came to the young gunner's mate. Then he asked about Luke.
The fighting was at an end and presently Luke came to him, to find Larry sitting up in a chair.
"I feel stiff and sore all over, Luke," said the youth. "It was just as if a house came down on me."
"Thank fortune you wasn't killed, or didn't have your bones broken," returned the Yankee gunner.
"I am thankful. Were you hurt?"
"Not in the least."
"What about the fight?"
"The Russians have sneaked back into the harbor like a lot of whipped dogs."
"What is our ship doing?"
"Putting up the coast. I don't know where we are going," answered Luke.
Larry remained in the ship's hospital for three days and then resumed his duties as before. His shoulder still felt stiff and sore and lifting anything was a good deal of labor. But Luke favored him, so he got along very well.
A week passed and theShohirikaremained at sea, moving in a wide circle, on the lookout for Russian warships or supply boats. But none were encountered, and then the cruiser was ordered to escort a transport filled with soldiers bound for the front.
The transport landed at a point some miles north of Dalny and the troops went ashore without delay. They were bound for the railroad, and were to participate in the advance upon Port Arthur from that point.
As the warship remained in the harbor several days, both Luke and Larry were allowed a short run on shore. They enjoyed this trip very much, until, much to their surprise, they learned that Major Okopa's command was in the vicinity. Then they hunted this up, to learn the sad news from Gilbert that Ben was missing.
"Missing!" ejaculated Larry, in horror. "Taken by Chunchuses! Oh, Gilbert, this is dreadful!"
"Well, I don't know as you feel any worse than I do, Larry," answered Gilbert. "It makes me wild to think of it."
"But couldn't you find any trace of him at all?"
"Not the slightest, although I think he was carried off in a boat."
"But why should the Chinese brigands make him a prisoner?"
"I'm sure I don't know, excepting to hold him for a ransom. But if they intended to do that it is likely we should have heard from them before this."
The matter was discussed as long as Larry and Luke could remain on shore. But nothing came of it, and with a heavy heart the young gunner's mate returned to his place on the warship.
After the fruitless effort to escape from Port Arthur harbor the Russian warships "bottled up" there remained where they were for a long time to come. Occasionally one or another attempted to run the blockade, but results were usually disastrous, and at last the risk became so great nothing more was done in that direction. The Japanese continued to put down mines and sank several boats loaded with stone in or near the winding channel, and this made getting in as hard as getting out—thus putting a stop to the arrival of more supply boats, such as brought Ben to the seaport.
In the meantime the campaign on land was pushed forward with increased activity. The headquarters of the Japanese army investing Port Arthur was not far from the railroad, but the lines stretched many miles to the east and the west. Troops were hurried both from Japan and from the divisions near Liao-Yang, and heavy siege guns were mounted on every available hilltop. The Japanese were, at the start, at a great disadvantage—they could not see the enemy at which they were firing. Hills and mountains cut them off from every view of the port. But they kept hammering away, day after day, week after week, and month after month, gaining steadily, throwing up new intrenchments, digging new tunnels, and hauling their heavy guns forward to more advantageous positions. The labor was body racking and the sacrifice of life enormous. But the Mikado's soldiers did not appear to care. They had set out to capture Port Arthur and they were going to do it.
For the foot-soldiers and for the cavalry there was at the start but little to do in the way of fighting. Most of the time was spent in digging trenches and tunnels, and in keeping out of the way of shells that whistled and screamed in all directions—shells weighing hundreds of pounds, which, when they struck, tore up the ground for yards around and smashed the rocks as if the latter were passing through a quartz crusher. Such is war of modern times, when carried on at a distance of miles.
But as the months went by, and Japanese and Russians came closer to each other, hand-to-hand conflicts became numerous. The Russians contested every foot of the ground, fighting with a courage that was truly heroic, and sacrificing themselves freely for the Czar and the country they loved. The hand-to-hand conflicts became bloody in the extreme, thousands upon thousands being slaughtered between the rising and the setting of the sun.
From the seacoast the command to which Gilbert was attached moved to a small place called Fugi Klan. Here they went into camp for several weeks and while there were joined by a number of other commands, including that containing those old soldiers of fortune, Dan Casey and Carl Stummer, who had served with Gilbert and Ben in Cuba and in the Philippines.
"Py chiminy, of it ton't done mine heart goot to see you, cabtain!" exclaimed Carl Stummer, rushing up and giving Gilbert a handshake. "How you peen, annavay?"
"First rate, Stummer. And how are you, Casey?"
"Sure an' it's meself is as foine as a fiddle," answered the Irishman, with a broad grin on his freckled face. "It's a great war, ain't it now? Both soides is fightin' like a pair o' Kilkenny cats, so they are! An' where is me ould friend, Captain Russell?"
"He was captured by Chunchuses."
"No!" came from both Stummer and Casey, and then they poured in a volley of questions which were bewildering. Gilbert answered them as best he could.
"Dot's der vorst ding vot I hear yet alretty!" said Carl Stummer, with a sad shake of his head. "I vish I got dem Chunchusers—or vot you call dem—here. I fix 'em, eh, Tan?"
Dan Casey nodded vigorously. "Sure an' we'd be after puttin' a ball through ivery mother's son of 'em, so we would! Poor Ben Russell! I loiked him loike a brother!" And the honest Irish sharp-shooter heaved a long sigh.
Both Casey and Stummer had been having easy times of it for several weeks, but now they were called upon to go forth with pick and shovel, to do their share of work in digging intrenchments. This was not so nice, but they went at the labor without a murmur.
"Sure an' we might as well git into practice," observed Casey, as he started in with vigor. "Whin the war's over an' we git back to the States, it may be ourselves as will be workin' fer the corporation in New York or ilsewhere!"
"Yah, udder puttin' town railroad dracks alretty in der Vest," answered Carl Stummer. "Dot is," he added, "of I ton't got money enough to puy a farm."
"'Tis a stock farm I'm wantin'," came from Casey. "Wid horses galore. There's money for ye, Carl!" And he went to work with added vigor—as if he expected to turn up the stock farm from the soil beneath him.
To Gilbert, even though he occasionally saw Stummer and Casey, the days were very lonely. He missed Ben greatly, and each day wondered if he would ever see his old war chum again. Major Okopa saw this and did what he could to cheer up the young officer.
"He may turn up before you realize it," said the major. "I don't think he was killed."
"If he is alive, it is very strange that we do not hear from him."
Two days later came a batch of letters into camp, written, or rather painted, for the most part, on thin Japanese paper. Among the communications were two for Gilbert, one from Captain Ponsberry concerning theColumbiaand her cargo, and the other from a stranger in Pekin, China.
"Who can be writing to me from Pekin, China?" mused the young captain, and began to read the communication with interest. It was from a Chinese merchant, and ran in part as follows:
"You will be mystified to receive this from an utter stranger, but I deem it my duty, kind sir, to send this word to you.
"Know, then, that one Ken Gow, a servant of my family, was in Port Arthur up to sixteen days ago—first a servant in an American family there, and next a prisoner in the vilest prison man ever saw, guarded by dogs of Russians unworthy to be used as door mats. Ken Gow is a faithful man, the flower of all my help.
"It is needless to explain to you why my servant was thus ill-treated. But you must know that when in prison he met your great friend Captain Benjamin Russell, and it was the captain who saved Ken Gow from many hard blows from the other prisoners, who wanted not a Chinaman amongst them.
"Ken Gow was grateful, even as I am grateful, and he promised to get word to you of this matter if the Russians granted him his liberty. Finding no fault in my servant he was, after a time, liberated, and watching his chance, left Port Arthur and came home.
"Kind sir, he is grateful to Captain Russell and would do much for him if he could. Yet his most is to send this letter to you, telling you that Captain Russell is alive and held in a Port Arthur prison as a spy. One Russian hates him—his name, Captain Barusky,—and it would appear that this Russian is also your enemy, so beware of him.
"I can tell no more. Ken Gow is sick from his treatment at the hands of the Russian dogs. Accept this miserable assurance of my eternal friendship, and esteem for one I know must be high and illustrious."
"Cheng Mo."
Gilbert read the letter several times and showed it to Major Okopa. It was written in true Chinese style, with a big Chinese seal attached, and was, beyond all doubt, genuine.
"I can't understand one thing," said the young captain. "How did Ben get to Port Arthur?"
"It may be that this Captain Barusky had him taken there, Captain Pennington."
"I thought Captain Barusky was at Mukden."
"The Russians have been taking in some troops at Port Arthur on the sly. Despite Admiral Togo's efforts, some supply boats and transports have passed his ships."
"If Barusky is there he will do what he can to make Ben miserable. He is down on both of us—for he knows we are down on him and Ivan Snokoff."
"Do you think Snokoff could have anything to do with this?"
"I'm sure I don't know. Anything is possible. Snokoff would be glad to make trouble for Ben—since he helped me to make him settle up at Liao-Yang. Those Chunchuses tried to capture both of us."
The matter was talked over for half an hour, but brought forth no satisfaction. To Gilbert's mind, being held by the Russians as a spy was as bad as being in the hands of the Chinese brigands.
"I wish we could get into Port Arthur at once," he said, finally. "I shouldn't like anything better than to capture this Captain Barusky and liberate Ben."
"We are bound to get into the port sooner or later," answered Major Okopa. "They are bringing up more siege guns every day. If the Russians won't give up we'll batter the whole town down over their heads."
"Which will be a bad thing for Ben," rejoined Gilbert. "I don't want him killed in the attempt to rescue him."
"Where is this going to end?"
It was Ben who asked himself the question, as he walked up and down the narrow cell in which he had been confined in the prison at Port Arthur.
What had been written to Gilbert in the letter from Pekin had been substantially correct. Ben had aided Ken Gow in numerous ways, and for this the Chinaman had been extremely grateful and had promised to do all he could for the young captain should he manage to escape from the blockaded seaport. Then Ken Gow had disappeared one night, and that was the last Ben saw of him.
Three days later a guard entered the prison and announced that the prisoners were to be transferred to other quarters. With his hands bound behind him, Ben was marched forth through a side street of Port Arthur, where stood an old building which had formerly been used as a market. Cells had been built in this structure, and into one of these he was thrust, the guard sarcastically telling him to make himself as comfortable as possible.
The young captain was sick in both body and mind and fast reaching that point where one becomes desperate and fit for any deed of daring. More than once he was tempted to throw himself on the guard in an endeavor to overpower the fellow and escape. But he realized that if caught at this he would be immediately shot down.
Day after day passed, and from outside the prisoner heard the dull booming of cannon. Occasionally a shell would explode close to the prison, causing a wild yell of alarm and a general rush by those outside. There were flags over the prisons and over the hospitals, showing what manner of places they were, but, as said before, the Japanese were at a loss to see what they were firing at, so many shots and shells went where they were not intended. These mishaps were what caused the report to circulate that the Mikado's men were not fighting according to the rules of modern warfare, but were doing their best to shatter the hospitals in which lay their own and the Russian wounded.
It was a cold, raw day, with a touch of snow in the air, and Ben felt one of his desperate moods coming over him. His hands and feet were free and he peered forth from the one narrow window that the cell contained. All he could see beyond was a courtyard, surrounded by a stone wall.
"I wish I was out there—I'd get over that wall somehow!" he muttered to himself.
The cell window was not over fifteen or sixteen inches wide and twice that in height. The bars were of iron, but set in wooden frames but a few inches in thickness.
"A fellow might smash out those bars with the bench end," he thought. "But after that what? I reckon the guard in the courtyard would shoot me on sight. I might try it at night."
Still in a desperate mood, Ben picked up the bench, a solid affair several feet long. He made an imaginary lunge at the window bars with it.
"I'll wager I could knock them out with one blow. They——"
Ben got no further, for at the moment a fearful explosion sounded somewhere overhead. The explosion was followed by a crash and a wild yell of alarm. A Japanese shell had struck the top of the building, tearing away fully a quarter of the roof and sending the bricks and timbers flying in all directions.
"Now is my chance!" he muttered, and without stopping to think twice he rammed the window bars as hard as he could with the bench. A second and third blow followed, and down went the irons, carrying a portion of the window frame with them. Then through the opening leaped the young captain. As he landed in the courtyard, he picked up a small log of wood lying handy.
A glance around told him that the guard was nowhere in sight, the Russian having run to the other side of the building to note the damage done by the shell. Log in hand, Ben leaped quickly across the courtyard and placed the bit of wood up against the wall. This gave him a footing, and in a twinkling he was on top of the wall.
But though he acted quickly a guard from the prison building saw him and ran forth gun in hand.
"Halt!" came the command, in Russian, and then, raising his weapon, the guard fired at Ben.
The bullet whistled over the young captain's head, and without looking back to see who had fired it, he dropped on the other side of the wall. Then he sprinted up the street and around a corner.
Ben knew not where to go, but his one thought was to put distance between himself and the prison, and he hurried on and on, until he came to a barn which stood open. Into this he darted, to find the building empty of occupants.
The Japanese had begun a general bombardment of Port Arthur and shot and shells were flying in all directions. This being the case, the majority of the troops and the inhabitants were out of sight,—hid away in cellars and dugouts. Nobody paid any attention to him and he was thus given ample time in which to think matters over and decide upon his next movement.
From the barn Ben moved to the building next door—which was a sort of dwelling and storehouse combined. Here, from the wide open doorway, he gazed at the scene of destruction before him. It was full of horror and made him shiver.
"War is certainly a terrible thing," he thought. He saw some people running for their lives, and beheld one man go down struck in the back by a shell. Then he turned away to shut out the sight.
In one room of the warehouse he found an old overcoat and a slouch hat, and lost no time in donning these, both as a disguise and to keep himself warm. Then he hunted around for something to eat, but could not find a mouthful.
"I might have known there would be no food squandered," he told himself. "Didn't they say at the prison that they were slaughtering the horses just for the meat, and that butter and eggs were worth their weight in gold? I'll be lucky to get bread and soup—especially as I haven't a dollar with which to pay for a meal."
Ben was about to leave the warehouse when he saw a file of Russian soldiers approaching. With the soldiers were two officers, and as they came closer he recognized one as Captain Barusky.
"It was a bad thing to let that American escape," said the captain to the other officer. "If you catch sight of him, shoot him on the spot."
"Which we shall do with pleasure," was the ready answer; and then officers and soldiers passed on.
"I've got to keep out of sight, that's all there is to that," reasoned Ben, grimly. "If they catch me again it's all up with me. I wonder if it would be possible to get out of Port Arthur? Gilbert got out, but things weren't half so closely guarded as they are now."
Ben waited until nightfall before leaving the warehouse. Then, keeping a constant lookout for Russian soldiers, he sneaked along one street after another. Where to go he did not know, but he realized that he must have something to eat or he would starve.
Presently he came to a small garden in the center of which was a neat-looking residence. On the doorplate was the name Nathan Chase.
"Nathan Chase!" Ben cried, half aloud. "I wonder if that can be the gentleman Gilbert knew? If it is perhaps he will aid me."
At first the young captain thought to ring the doorbell, but fearful of meeting the wrong person he resolved to investigate in a more private manner. The side windows of the residence were curtained, but the curtains were only partly down. Going to one of the windows he peered inside.
In a neatly furnished sitting room sat a young lady and a Russian soldier. They were arguing about something—money matters as far as Ben could make out. The young lady did not wish to give the soldier the money and he insisted upon having it. While Ben gazed at the scene, the Russian soldier leaped up, grasped the young lady by the shoulders and shook her roughly.
"Don't!" screamed the young lady, in English. "Let me go!"
"I want the money!" answered the soldier, in his native tongue. He was a Cossack and of brutal features.
The young lady was pretty and she was helpless, and this combination was more than the young captain could resist. Regardless of consequences, he shoved up the window and leaped inside the apartment.
"Keep your hands off of that young lady!" he cried, and catching the Cossack by the shoulder he threw him backward. "Don't you know how to treat a lady when you meet her, you big brute?"
The Cossack was startled, first because he had not expected the interruption and secondly because he had no business to be in the mansion. He gave one look at Ben and then rushed out into the hallway and left the premises with all possible speed.
As soon as the Cossack was gone the young lady and Ben stared at each other. She started to speak, but stopped suddenly.
"Excuse me for coming in as I did, but I thought it was necessary," said the young captain. "I guess that fellow had no business here."
"You are right, sir. Papa is away, and he wanted me to give him money. He must have known I was alone in the house."
"Are you Miss Chase?"
"I am. But you have the advantage of me."
"I know it. I am Captain Benjamin Russell. Perhaps you know an old friend of mine, Gilbert Pennington. He knows your father, I believe."
"Oh, yes, I have met Captain Pennington. They tell me he is now in the Japanese army."
"He is." Ben paused and looked at the young lady keenly. "Miss Chase, can I trust you?" he asked, abruptly.
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell you," and in a few brief words he related his story, to which Grace Chase listened with close attention.
"You were lucky to escape from that prison!" she cried, when he had finished. "To be sure I will assist you as far as I can. Papa is away on business, but I expect him back in two or three hours. We haven't much on hand to eat, but such as there is you are welcome to."
"I'm hungry enough to eat anything," said Ben, with a little smile.
"Then come with me to the dining room, Captain Russell, and I will prepare supper."
"You haven't any servants now, I suppose?"
"No; every one of them has deserted us."
They entered the dining room, and the young lady asked Ben to close the shutters. While he was doing this she prepared such a meal as the larder of the house afforded. It was not much, but he did not complain, and he thanked her warmly for giving what he felt she could ill afford to set before him.
The meal finished, they sat down to await the coming of Mr. Chase. While doing this Ben related some of his experiences in the army and the young lady told of the horrors of the siege.
"One cannot understand it unless you are in the midst of it," she said. "Papa says business is at a standstill, the hospitals are filled with the sick and the wounded, and we are in constant dread that the next moment will be our last. The suspense is so great that in one or two cases the inhabitants have gone crazy."
"I can well believe that, Miss Chase. During the war in the Philippines I saw——"
Ben paused, as a heavy footstep sounded on the porch of the residence. Other footsteps followed, and then came a loud knock on the door.
"Open here!" demanded a voice in Russian. "Open, in the name of the Czar!"
As the days passed, the watch upon Port Arthur from the sea became closer and closer. Admiral Togo gave strict orders that no ships should be allowed to enter or come from the harbor under any circumstances, and each commander of a warship was on his mettle, knowing full well that if he was derelict in his duty he would speedily hear from his superior in a manner far from pleasant.
Blockading became something of a monotony to Larry and Luke, and after several weeks had passed both wished something would happen.
"I'd rather put up with a stiff sea fight than this," declared the young gunner's mate.
"Right ye are, lad," replied the old Yankee tar. "Ain't no use o' bein' ready for a tussle if it ain't comin'. As it now is, life in the navy ain't no more excitin' nor life on the oldColumbia."
During that time Larry received a letter from Captain Ponsberry, similar in contents to that sent to Gilbert. The Japanese Government had released the cargo of the schooner and then bought the same at a good round price. The ship had also been released, Captain Ponsberry having to pay a nominal sum for this action.
"I think the captain is lucky to get off so easily," said Larry. "I suppose the Japanese Government might have scooped in everything."
"Well, the Japs think it best to remain friendly to the United States," answered Luke, and it is likely that the old sailor was more than half right.
Cold weather had come in earnest and work on deck was far from pleasant. Yet each man on theShohirikahad to do his full duty as before, and, be it said to their credit, not a sailor or marine did any shirking. Gun drills and various exercises were kept up constantly.
One day the warship ran close to a big trading brig bound for Hong-Kong. As was the custom, the brig stopped to allow the commander of theShohirikato make certain that she was not carrying contrabands of war for Russia or had no intentions of running the blockade.
While this examination was going on, Larry and Luke chanced to come on deck, curious to have a look at the stranger.
"About as big a brig as I ever see in these parts," was the Yankee tar's comment. "She must carry a whopping cargo."
"Yes, and a lot of men to man her," answered Larry. "Think of hoisting and furling such sails as she carries!"
The two vessels had come fairly close to each other, and our friends continued to survey the brig with interest. Then Larry gave a cry.
"Oh, Luke, I wish I had a glass!"
"Why?"
"Unless I am mistaken, there is Shamhaven on the deck of that ship!"
"No!"
Larry pointed with his hand. "Doesn't that look like him?" he continued.
"Keelhaul me, if I don't think you're right, lad. Wait, I'll get a glass an' make certain!"
The old tar knew where he could borrow a glass, and in a minute more he returned, and both took a brief look through the instrument.
"It is Shamhaven!" ejaculated Larry. "And look, there is Peterson coming from the fo'castle!"
"That's so. What ye goin' to do about it?"
"Tell the officer of the deck. They shan't get off with my money if I can help it."
Rushing away, Larry soon acquainted the proper officer with what he had discovered—telling as much about the robbery as seemed necessary. The officer was interested, and, what was even more to the point, liked the young American.
"Do you wish to go to yonder ship and confront the men?" he asked.
"Try me and see!" answered Larry, excitedly. "I mean, yes, sir," he stammered. "And will you let Luke Striker go, too?"
The officer agreed, and soon another small boat put off from the warship, and Larry and Luke, with the officer, were speedily landed on the deck of the brig.
"You're a fine rascal, to rob me!" cried Larry, rushing up to Shamhaven. "And to rob Captain Ponsberry, too!"
Shamhaven had not expected this encounter, and for the moment he was dumbstruck. He gazed from Larry to Luke as if they were ghosts.
"I—I—who are you, anyway?" he stammered. "I don't know you," he added, striving to regain his composure.
"Yes, you do know me, and you know Luke Striker, too," answered the young gunner's mate.
"What does this mean?" asked the captain of the brig, while a number of others looked on with interest.
"I'll tell you what it means, sir," said Larry, and did so. "He has got to give up my money belt and my money, and give up Captain Ponsberry's money, too."
At this moment Peterson came up and was promptly collared by Luke.
"Stop! Don't you vos touch me!" cried Peterson. "I ain't noddings done, no."
"You helped Shamhaven to rob me," came from Larry.
"No, he done it all alone! I no touch noddings!"
"Oh, shut up!" roared Shamhaven, in disgust. "I never robbed anybody. If you lost your money Peterson must have taken it."
A quarrel ensued between the evildoers, in the midst of which came a cry from theShohirika.
"An enemy is in sight!"
At once all attention was turned to the warship. Scarcely a minute elapsed when a signal was displayed:
"A battleship, and she is trying to escape up the coast!"
"To the boats!" roared the Japanese officer on the deck of the brig. "To the boats at once! This investigation will have to be postponed. We shall expect you to remain as you are"—the latter words to the captain of the big brig.
"As you will," was the smooth answer.
A rush was made for the two small boats, Larry and Luke being hustled along with the crowd. Soon they put off for the warship, which was already preparing to follow the Russian battleship that had been seen.
"I didn't get my money, after all," grumbled the youth. "But perhaps I'll get it later—if that ship of the enemy doesn't sink us," he added.
As soon as they were on board of theShohirikaagain, the cruiser started after the battleship. But the enemy had a good lead, and it was some time before the Japanese warship could command a full head of steam, which meant everything to her. Then, when steam was to be had in plenty, there came a breakdown in the engine room, causing a delay of twenty minutes.
"We'll never catch her,—at least, not to-day," said Luke, and he was right. Darkness found the battleship still three miles away. Half a dozen shots were fired at her, but none took effect. Then night ended the pursuit.
In the morning nothing was to be seen of the enemy and those on the Japanese warship were much depressed, for they had fancied that an encounter might add greatly to their laurels. But shortly before noon the lookout announced the approach of another ship.
"A Russian cruiser!" was the cry.
This was correct—the vessel was the auxiliary cruiser,Pontomuk, formerly a steamer in the Siberian trade. She was manned by a fierce and swarthy-looking body of sailors and marines, and carried a first and second battery of no mean proportions.
"I'll wager we have got some work cut out for us now," said Larry, and he was right. Finding she could not run away from theShohirikathe Russian auxiliary cruiser came steaming up and let drive at close range,—a broadside that raked the Japanese warship from end to end with deadly effect. TheShohirikaanswered immediately, and both the steering wheel and the rudder were smashed on the enemy's ship.
"Phew! but this is hot work!" panted Larry, as all those around the gun worked like Trojans.
"An' it's going to be hotter!" ejaculated Luke. He sighted the piece with care. "There, Sally Jane, let her go!" And he pressed the electric button.Bang!went the gun with a roar that was deafening. Then the breech was thrown open and the smoke rolled out, filling the air with a smell that made them cough and sneeze. But nobody stopped work. In a trice the gun was cleaned and cooled and another shell pushed into place, and then the firing was repeated.
"She's coming alongside!" was the announcement from on deck. "All hands to repel boarders!"
"A hand-to-hand fight!" cried Larry, and scarcely had the words been uttered when there came a bump that hurled half the sailors flat. Up they sprang, and as order after order was delivered the marines and others ran for their guns and cutlasses, while the officers saw to it that their pistols were ready for use.
A wild, maddening yell came from the deck of the Russian ship, as marines and sailors poured over the side. An answeringBanzaiissued from the Japanese, and they met the first onslaught with vigor. Then came a fierce tramping over the deck, as the two conflicting parties moved first to one side and then the other.
"We are ordered up!" cried Larry, a few minutes later. "Here is where we have got to fight for it, Luke!"
"Right you are, lad. Do your best, and trust to Heaven for the rest!" was the Yankee tar's reply.Andthen, cutlasses in hand, both mounted to the deck, to engage in the fiercest hand-to-hand encounter either of them had ever experienced.
It was a battle royal from the start and for some time neither side had an advantage. Pistol shot was met by pistol shot, and a rifle gun placed on the upper deck of the Russian warship was balanced in execution by a similar gun mounted on theShohirika. The slaughter created by both weapons was frightful, a dozen or more going down on either side each time a gun was discharged.
When Larry and Luke came out on desk the spectacle was enough to make the blood of the youth run cold, and it was only his previous experience in warfare which rendered him capable of doing what he knew was his duty.
"Charge on them!" came the cry in Japanese. "Kill them, or drive them back to their ship!Banzai!"
"Banzai! Banzai Nippon!" was the yell. "Hurrah for Japan!"
The Japanese had not expected a hand-to-hand fight and the closing in of the enemy aroused them as they had never been aroused before. For the first time Larry saw the sailors and marines awakened to their full fighting fury—a fury in which every Japanese scorns death and thinks that to die is glory for himself, his family, and his emperor. They leaped on the Russians with a ferocity that was appalling, and that first shock sent the Czar's men back to the deck from which they had come.
But the Russians were likewise aroused, and with cheers and yells they came on once more, leaping over the bodies of those who had fallen, and meeting shot with shot and cutlass stroke with cutlass stroke. Officers and men fought side by side, and many went down to a common death.
By instinct Larry and Luke kept close together, with the others from Luke's gun near at hand, and Steve Colton and Bob Stanford not far away. Each used his cutlass as best he could, warding off the blows of the enemy and dealing cuts whenever a chance appeared. Larry was glad that he had learned to use a cutlass so well, and soon found himself the match of almost any Russian who challenged him.
The fighting was now spread over the decks of both vessels, which were hooked together tightly and pounding broadside at every swell of the ocean. To attempt to blow up either ship would have been fatal probably to both—one dragging down the other—so no such attempt was made.
While the fighting was at its height, Larry suddenly found himself face to face with a Russian lieutenant of marines. The fellow had a pistol in his hand, and as Larry raised his cutlass to strike, he dropped the weapon on a level with the youth's head and pulled the trigger.
Had the bullet sped as intended it is likely Larry would have been killed. But just as the trigger fell, Luke, who was at Larry's side, knocked the pistol to one side with his cutlass and the bullet merely grazed Larry's hair. Then Larry leaped forward and gave the Russian lieutenant a thrust in the side which put the fellow out of the fight instantly.
For fully fifteen minutes the battle had now raged and it was growing hotter each instant. All of the available men on each ship were in the fray, and the cries and yells which resounded were deafening.
"We certainly can't keep this fight up much longer!" panted Larry. He had a cut on his left hand and one in the shoulder, but kept on with dogged determination.
"Well, we ain't goin' to surrender!" grunted Luke. "It's fight or die, I guess!" And he leaped forward once more.
Two tall Russians were directly in front of the old Yankee gunner, and both fell upon him with their cutlasses at the same instant. Luke was capable of warding off the weapon of one, but he was no match for the pair, and it speedily looked as if they would surely kill him.
"Back with ye!" he yelled, and swung his cutlass as rapidly as he could, but they crowded him still closer and then one made a thrust at his face and another at his body.
It was at this critical moment that Larry, who had been engaged with somebody else, saw his old war chum's predicament. With a leap he gained Luke's side, and down came his cutlass with a sweeping blow on the wrist of one of the enemy. The Russian dropped his cutlass to the deck and staggered back, his hand almost severed from his arm. Then Luke slashed the other Russian across the cheek, and both of the enemy hurried back behind the other fighters.
"Good fer you, Larry!" panted Luke, when he could speak. "They had me about cornered!"
"These fellows certainly know how to put up a stiff fight."
"You're wounded yourself. Better go below."
"No, I'm going to see it out. Why don't you go down yourself?"
"It ain't in me, thet's why," answered the old Yankee gunner.
Again came a fierce onslaught from the Russians. But the Japanese now had another rifle gun in place, and sharpshooters were crowding the fighting tops. The latter picked off the Russian officers, and this created a momentary confusion. Then came a sudden order to unlock the two ships and this was done.
"The Russian ship is going down!" was the yell, and the news proved true. An explosion below decks had torn a hole in the Russian warship's bottom and she began to sink rapidly.
The scene was now indescribable. Both the Russians and the Japanese on the doomed vessel endeavored to reach the deck of theShohirika. In this struggle the majority of the Russians received the worst of it, and fully fifty of them, including not a few wounded, remained on board when the doomed warship took her final plunge beneath the waters of the sea. Eighteen Japanese were likewise drowned, including two under officers.
"Surrender, or we will drive you over the side!" was the command from the Japanese, and utterly disheartened by the loss of their ship, the Russians threw down their arms; and the fierce and bloody contest was at an end. The common sailors were driven forward and chained together or bound with ropes, and the officers were grouped near the stern, where a formal surrender was made by the captain of the lost ship giving up his sword. This formality over, the Japanese set to work at once, cleaning up the deck and caring for the wounded as well as the hospital accommodations of theShohirikawould permit.
"I never wish to see another fight like that," was Larry's comment, when he had washed up and had his wounds dressed. "It was simply a slaughter!"
"Right you are, lad," answered Luke. "An' I reckon I'm a-goin' to carry the scars o' it down to my grave." The old Yankee gunner had received several severe wounds, and he was glad enough to have Larry swing his hammock for him and lie down to rest.
The battle over, the captain of theShohirikasailed away, to look for the big brig once more and to report to the flagship of the fleet. But the brig had taken time by the forelock and left for parts unknown.
"I suppose that is the last of Shamhaven and Peterson and my money," said Larry, when this news reached him. "I wish we had met that brig a week ago."
"Oh, it's possible we may see her again," said Luke, cheerfully. "But it gets me that she ran away, unless she had something to run for."
"She must have been carrying some contraband of war, Luke."
"It ain't unlikely, lad. Well, she's gone, an' it ain't no use to cry over spilt milk. When you write to Captain Ponsberry you can tell him ye saw them two rascals an' thet's all the good it did."
"Do you know what I'm thinking?"
"Well?"
"I'm thinking that brig was bound for Port Arthur, and she'll slip into that port some dark and misty night."
"It's a risky piece o' business. Either our ships or the mines are likely to blow her up."
"That is true. But the Russians at the port must be getting desperate, and they'll most likely pay any kind of a price for supplies. A captain who ran the blockade successfully could make a fortune," returned Larry.
The young gunner's mate was right in his surmise. The big brig was a Russian vessel in disguise and loaded to her fullest capacity with supplies for the blockaded seaport. She had been fitted out at Vladivostok, but had taken a wide sea course, so as to pretend to have set sail from Nagasaki. Several Russian shipping merchants were interested in the venture, which was a private one, and among the number was Ivan Snokoff. From Captain Barusky, Snokoff had heard that fabulous prices could be obtained for needed commodities at Port Arthur, and he had invested nearly everyrublehe possessed in the enterprise. If the vessel succeeded in reaching Port Arthur, Captain Barusky was to undertake the disposal of the goods shipped in Snokoff's name, and then the two were to divide the profits.
The big brig had come close to being wrecked off the coast of Japan and during a gale had run down a fishing smack containing Shamhaven, Peterson, and two Japanese. One Japanese had been drowned, and the three others from the smack had been made to join the crew of the big brig. This was agreeable to Shamhaven and Peterson, who did not wish to remain near Nagasaki or at any place where Captain Ponsberry or Larry would be likely to discover them.
"Open, in the name of the Czar!"
Such was the command which startled both Ben and Grace Chase, and for the moment each gazed at the other in horror, not knowing what to say or do.
"I must get away from here!" whispered the young captain, but scarcely had he spoken when there came a crash, and the front door of the residence swung in. Then half a dozen Russians poured into the house.
"There he is, as I suspected!" said one, an officer from the prison. "We'll see that you do not escape again," he added to Ben, grimly.
In the midst of the excitement Nathan Chase arrived. But he could do nothing for the young captain, and was glad that he was left to protect his daughter.
"We ought also to take her," said the prison official. "She did wrong to harbor this prisoner." And then, without further ado, Ben was marched back to the place from which he had escaped such a short while before.
After that the time passed dismally enough for the young American. For having run away he was put on the most miserable fare the prison afforded, the food being often so vile he could not touch it. Whenever he attempted to protest he was met with kicks and blows.
"They might as well kill me and be done with it," he thought. "Oh, how I wish the Japs would take the city and give me back my liberty!"
In those days Port Arthur became a most uncomfortable place for all living there. The Japanese army was pressing forward steadily, and army and navy did everything possible to destroy the shipping in the harbor and make the various forts untenable. Shots and shells were hurled into the city at all hours of the day and night, until living there became worse than a nightmare. Among the soldiers scurvy became prevalent, until the hospitals could not accommodate the sick and the dying. Nothing was done to clean up the streets, and the rubbish lay many feet deep over the sidewalks. Practically all of the shops were closed, for they had next to nothing to sell. The main article of food was rice, and to cook this many old buildings had to be razed in order to procure necessary firewood. As winter approached the suffering of the poor became so intense that riots broke out and to maintain order not a few were shot down.
Such was the condition in the city. Outside, to the northward, the fighting went on week after week. So many soldiers were killed upon both sides that to bury the dead became impossible, and thousands were left where they had fallen, to become the prey of vultures, or to putrefy and fill the locality with a stench that was as nauseating as it was deadly! Such are the horrors of modern warfare. The demands for universal peace cannot come any too quickly.
In the advance on Port Arthur, Gilbert did his full share of the fighting. The Japanese were now struggling for the possession of what was known as 203-Meter Hill, a rocky elevation which was not fortified but which was in the direct line of Russian fire. The top of 203-Meter Hill commanded a fine view of Port Arthur and its harbor, and it was this view the Japanese needed, in order to make their shell fire most effective.
The battle for 203-Meter Hill is one which will be long remembered. The Japanese fought with a desperation impossible to describe, and when the hill was captured, General Stoessel sent out nearly all his available men to retake it. But this could not be accomplished, and late in December the Japanese stormed the inner defenses of the Russian chain of forts, killing nearly all of the brave defenders who dared to oppose them. Then tons upon tons of shot and shell were sent into Port Arthur and over the harbor once again, until the locality became little short of an inferno. Nearly all the shipping was destroyed, and so many buildings were set on fire that to stem the conflagration became all but impossible. The end came on New Year's Day, 1905—ten months after the famous siege began. To hold out longer seemed impossible, and to avoid further carnage General Stoessel called a council of war and sent a message to General Nogi offering to capitulate.
"Port Arthur has surrendered!" The news flew from one Japanese regiment to another, and soon the warships were sending the message from vessel to vessel. For once the Japanese showed their real feelings, and "Banzai! Banzai!" rent the air again and again. "Long life to the Mikado! Port Arthur is ours once more!"
"It is a well-earned victory!" cried Larry, when he heard the news.
"Yes, lad, and I trust it brings this bloody war to a close," came from Luke.
"They say General Stoessel blew up the warships remaining in the harbor."
"He couldn't have had many left," returned the old Yankee gunner. "The army and the navy have about battered everything to bits." And in this surmise Luke was correct.
The fall of Port Arthur caused widespread consternation in Russia, while the people of Japan were correspondingly elated. Because of the gallant defense of the place, the Japanese made generous terms with those who had surrendered, much to the satisfaction of the world at large. Many had predicted a universal butchery, but nothing of the sort occurred, and the Russian sick and wounded were given every possible attention.
After the fall of the port Larry was permitted to go ashore some miles above the town, and he managed tolocateGilbert, and then learned for the first time that Ben was a prisoner in the captured place.
"A prisoner!" he ejaculated. "Oh, Gilbert, we must find him and have him released!"
"That is just what I have been thinking, but I don't know exactly how to go at it, Larry."
"There ought to be some way of doing these things. We might interview one of the generals and——Who is that coming this way?"
"Why, it's Ben himself!" cried Gilbert.
"Ben!" screamed Larry, and ran forward to meet his brother. Soon they were in each other's arms, and then Gilbert received an equally warm greeting.
"We were released this morning," said Ben. "I can tell you I was mighty glad of it. I haven't had a meal fit to eat in weeks."
"Well, you shall have the best our larder affords," said Gilbert. "My, but you're a sight for sore eyes!" he continued.
"Don't say a word!" came from Larry. Two tears were glistening in his honest eyes. "It's almost too good to be true!"