BANZAI!

[Illustration: "That's the Japanese _Satsuma_, Togo's _Satsuma_!"]

BANZAI!

BY

PARABELLUM

LEIPZIGTHEODOR WEICHER, PUBLISHER

NEW YORKTHE BAKER & TAYLOR CO. , SALES AGENTS33 EAST 17TH STREET (UNION SQUARE)

COPYRIGHT, 1908, BYTHEODOR WEICHER

COPYRIGHT, 1908, BYTHE BAKER & TAYLOR CO. _All rights reserved_

ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL, LONDON

Published, January, 1909

THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK

CONTENTS

 PAGE

FOREWORD vii

INTRODUCTION ix

CHAPTERI. --IN MANILA 1

II. --ON THE HIGH SEAS 34

III. --HOW IT BEGAN 49

IV. --ECHOES IN NEW YORK 61

V. --FATHER AND SON 69

VI. --A NIGHT IN NEW YORK 77

VII. --THE RED SUN OVER THE GOLDEN GATE 96

VIII. --IN THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH 105

IX. ---A FORTY-EIGHT-HOUR BALANCE 121

X. --ADMIRAL PERRY'S FATE 142

XI. --CAPTAIN WINSTANLEY 171

XII. --ARE YOU WINSTANLEY? 185

XIII. --THE REVENGE FOR PORTSMOUTH 192

XIV. --ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WHIRLPOOL 206

XV. --A RAY OF LIGHT 211

XVI. --THROUGH FIRE AND SMOKE 217

XVII. --WHAT HAPPENED AT CORPUS CHRISTI 228

XVIII. --THE BATTLE OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS 243

XIX. --THE ASSAULT ON HILGARD 272

XX. ---A FRIEND IN NEED 286

XXI. --DARK SHADOWS 295

XXII. --REMEMBER HILGARD 306

XXIII. --IN THE WHITE HOUSE 312

FOREWORD

Every American familiar with the modern international political horizonmust have experienced a feeling of solid satisfaction at the news that aformidable American fleet was to be dispatched to the waters of thePacific, and the cruise of our warships has been followed with intenseinterest by every loyal citizen of our Republic. The reasons thatrendered the long and dramatic voyage of our fleet most opportune areidentical with the motives that actuated the publication of thistranslation from the German of a work which exhibits a remarkable graspof facts coupled with a marvelously vivid power of description. It is nosecret that our ships were sent to the Pacific to minimize the danger ofa conflict with our great commercial rival in the Far East, if not toavert it altogether, and _Banzai_! it seems to me, should perform asimilar mission. The graphic recital, I take it, is not intended toincite a feeling of animosity between two nations which have everyreason to maintain friendly relations, but rather to call the attentionof the American people to the present woeful lack of preparedness, andat the same time to assist in developing a spirit of sound patriotismthat prefers silent action to blatant braggadocio. That the PacificOcean may become, in truth, the Peaceful Ocean, and never resoundto the clash of American arms, is the devout wish of one whobelieves--implicitly--with Moltke in the old proverb, _Si vis pacem, para bellum_--If you wish for Peace, prepare for War. 

P. 

INTRODUCTION

As usual, it had begun quite harmlessly and inconspicuously. It is notmy business to tell how it all came to pass, how the way was prepared. That may be left to the spinners of yarns and to those on the trail ofthe sources of history. I shall leave it to them to ascertain when theidea that there must be a conflict, and that the fruit must be pluckedbefore it had time to ripen, first took root in the minds of theJapanese people. 

We Americans realize now that we had been living for years like one whohas a presentiment that something dreadful is hanging over him whichwill suddenly descend upon his head, and who carries this feeling ofdread about with him with an uneasy conscience, trying to drown it inthe tumult and restlessness of daily life. We realize the situation now, because we know where we should have fixed our gaze and understand thetask to the accomplishment of which we should have bent our energies, but we went about like sleep-walkers and refused to see what thousandsof others knew, what thousands saw in astonishment and concern at ourheedlessness. 

We might easily have peeped through the curtain that hid the future fromus, for it had plenty of holes, but we passed them by unnoticed. And, nevertheless, there were many who did peep through. Some, while readingtheir paper, let it fall into their lap and stared into space, lettingtheir thoughts wander far away to a spot whence the subdued clash ofarms and tumult of war reached their soul like the mysterious roll androar of the breakers. Others were struck by a chance word overheard inthe rush of the street, which they would remember until it was drivenout by the strenuous struggle that each day brought with it. But theword itself had not died; it continued to live in the foundation of theconsciousness where our burning thoughts cannot enter, and sometimes inthe night it would be born afresh in the shape of wild squadrons ofcavalry galloping across the short grass of the prairie with noiselesshoofs. The thunder of cannon could be heard in the air long before theguns were loaded. 

I saw no more than others, and when the grim horrors of the future firstbreathed coldly upon me I, too, soon forgot it. It happened at SanFrancisco in the spring of 1907. We were standing before a bar, and fromoutside came the sounds of an uproar in the street. Two men were beingthrown out of a Japanese restaurant across the way, and the Japaneseproprietor, who was standing in the doorway, kicked the hat of one ofthem across the pavement so that it rolled over the street like afootball. 

"Well, what do you think of that, " cried my friend, Arthur Wilcox, "theJap is attacking the white men. "

I held him back by the arm, for a tall Irish policeman had alreadyseized the Jap, who protested loudly and would not submit to arrest. Thepoliceman took good hold of him, but before he knew it he lay like a logon the pavement, the Japanese dwarf apparently having thrown him withoutthe least trouble. A wild brawl followed. Half an hour later only a fewpolicemen, taking notes, were walking about in the Japanese restaurant, which had been completely demolished by a frenzied mob. We remained atthe bar for some time afterwards engaged in earnest conversation. 

"Our grandchildren, " said Arthur, "will have to answer for that littleaffair and fight it out some day or other. "

"Not our grandchildren, but we ourselves, " I answered, not knowing inthe least why I said it. 

"We ourselves?" said Wilcox, laughing at me, "not much; look at me, lookat yourself, look at our people, and then look at those dwarfs. "

"The Russians said the same thing: Look at the dwarfs. "

They all laughed at me and presently I joined in the laugh, but I couldnot forget the Irishman as he lay in the grip of the Jap. And quitesuddenly I remembered something which I had almost forgotten. Ithappened at Heidelberg, during my student days in Germany; a professorwas telling us how, after the inglorious retreat of the Prussian armyfrom Valmy, the officers, with young Goethe in their midst, were sittinground the camp fires discussing the reasons for the defeat. When theyasked Goethe what he thought about it, he answered, as though giftedwith second sight: "At this spot and at this moment a new epoch in theworld's history will begin, and you will all be able to say that youwere present. " And in imagination I could see the red glow of thebivouac fires and the officers of Frederick the Great's famous army, whocould not understand how anyone could have fled before the raggedrecruits of the Revolution. And near them I saw a man of higher caliberstanding on tiptoe to look through the dark curtain into the future. 

At the time I soon forgot all these things; I forgot the apparentlyinsignificant street affray and the icy breath of premonition whichswept over me then, and not until the disaster had occurred did it againenter my mind. But then when the swords were clashing I realized, forthe first time, that all the incidents we had observed on the dustyhighway of History, and passed by with indifference, had been sure signsof the coming catastrophe. 

PARABELLUM

BANZAI!

_Chapter I_

IN MANILA

"For God's sake, do leave me in peace with your damned yellow monkeys!"cried Colonel Webster, banging his fist on the table so hard that thewhisky and soda glasses jumped up in a fright, then came down againirritably and wagged their heads disapprovingly, so that theamber-colored fluid spilled over the edge and lay on the table in littlepearly puddles. 

"As you like, colonel. I shall give up arguing with you, " returnedLieutenant Commander Harryman curtly. "You won't allow yourself to bewarned. "

"Warned--that's not the question. But this desire of yours to scentJapanese intrigues everywhere, to figure out all politics by theJapanese common denominator, and to see a Japanese spy in every coolieis becoming a positive mania. No, I can't agree with you there, " addedWebster, who seemed to regret the passionate outburst into which histemperament had betrayed him. 

"Really not?" asked Harryman, turning in his comfortable wicker chairtoward Webster and looking at him half encouragingly with twinklingeyes. 

Such discussions were not at all unusual in the Club at Manila, for theypresented the only antidote to the leaden, soul-killing tedium of thedull monotony of garrison duty. Since the new insurrection on Mindanaoand in the whole southern portion of the archipelago, the question as tothe actual causes of the uprising, or rather the secret authors thereof, continually gave rise to heated discussions. And when both parties, ofwhich one ascribed everything to Japanese intrigue and the other foundan explanation in elementary causes, began to liven up, the debate wasapt to wax pretty warm. If these discussions did nothing else, they atleast produced a sort of mental excitement after the heat of the daywhich wore out body and mind alike, not even cooling down towardevening. 

The Chinese boy, passing quickly and quietly between the chairs, removedthe traces of the Webster thunderbolt and placed fresh bottles of sodawater on the table, whereupon the officers carefully prepared newdrinks. 

"He's a spy, too, I suppose?" asked Webster of Harryman, pointing withhis thumb over his shoulder at the disappearing boy. 

"Of course. Did you ever imagine him to be anything else?"

Webster shrugged his shoulders. A dull silence ensued, during which theytried to recover the lost threads of their thoughts in the drowsytwilight. Harryman irritably chewed the ends of his mustache. The smokefrom two dozen shag pipes settled like streaks of mist in the sultry airof the tropical night, which came in at the open windows. Lazily andwith long pauses, conversation was kept up at the separate tables. Thesilence was only broken by the creaking of the wicker chairs and thegurgling and splashing of the soda water, when one of the officers, after having put it off as long as possible, at last found sufficientenergy to refill his glass. Motionless as seals on the sandhills in theheat of midday, the officers lolled in their chairs, waiting for themoment when they could turn in with some show of decency. 

"It's awful!" groaned Colonel McCabe. "This damned hole is enough tomake one childish. I shall go crazy soon. " And then he cracked hisstanding joke of the evening: "My daily morning prayer is: 'Let it soonbe evening, O God; the morrow will come of itself. '" The jest wasgreeted with a dutiful grunt of approval from the occupants of thevarious chairs. 

Lieutenant Parrington, officer in command of the little gunboat_Mindoro_, which had been captured from the Spaniards some years ago andsince the departure of the cruiser squadron for Mindanao been put incommission as substitute guardship in the harbor of Manila, entered theroom and dropped into a chair near Harryman; whereupon the Chinese boy, almost inaudible in his broad felt shoes, suddenly appeared beside himand set down the bottle with the pain expeller of the tropics beforehim. 

"Any cable news, Parrington?" asked Colonel McCabe from the other table. 

"Not a word, " yawned Parrington; "everything is still smashed. We mightjust as well be sitting under the receiver of an air pump. "

Harryman noticed that the boy stared at Parrington for a moment as ifstartled; but he instantly resumed his Mongolian expression of absoluteinnocence, and with his customary grin slipped sinuously through thedoor. 

Harryman experienced an unpleasant feeling of momentary discomfort, but, not being able to locate his ideas clearly, he irritably gave up theattempt to arrive at a solution of this instinctive sensation, mumblingto himself: "This tropical hell is enough to set one crazy. "

"No news of the fleet, either?" began Colonel McCabe again. 

"Positively nothing, either by wire or wireless. It seems as though therest of the world had sunk into a bottomless pit. Not a single word hasreached us from the outer world for six days. "

"Do you believe in the seaquake?" struck in Harryman mockingly. 

"Why not?" returned the colonel. 

Harryman jumped up, walked over to the window with long strides, threwout the end of his cigarette and lighted a new one. In the bright lightof the flaming match one could see the commander's features twitchingironically; he was on the warpath again. 

"All the same, it's a queer state of affairs. Our home cable snapsbetween Guam and here, the Hong-Kong cable won't work, and even ourisland wire has been put out of commission; it must have been a prettyviolent catastrophe--" came from another table. 

"--All the more violent considering the fact that we noticed nothing ofit on land, " said Harryman, thoughtfully blowing out a cloud of smokeand swinging himself up backward on the window-sill. 

"Exactly, " rang out a voice; "but how do you account for that?"

"Account for it!" cried Colonel Webster, in a thundering voice. "Ourcomrade of the illustrious navy of the United States of America has onlyone explanation for everything: his Japanese logarithms, by means ofwhich he figures out everything. Now we shall hear that this seaquakecan be traced to Japanese villainy, probably brought about by Japanesedivers, or even submarine boats. " And the colonel began to laughheartily. 

Harryman ignored this attempt to resume their recent dispute, and withhead thrown back continued to blow clouds of smoke nervously into theair. 

"But seriously, Harryman, " began the colonel again, "can you give anyexplanation?"

"No, " answered Harryman curtly; "but perhaps you will remember who wasthe first to furnish an explanation of the breakdown of the cable. Itwas the captain of the Japanese _Kanga Maru_, which has been anchoredsince Tuesday beside the _Monadnock_, which I have the honor tocommand. "

"But, my good Harryman, you have hallucinations, " interrupted thecolonel. "The Japanese captain gave the latest Hong-Kong papers to theHarbor Bureau, and was quite astonished to hear that our cable did notwork----"

"When he was going to send a cablegram to Hong-Kong, " added Harrymansharply. 

"To announce his arrival at Manila, " remarked Colonel Webster dryly. 

"And the Hong-Kong papers had already published descriptions of thedestruction caused by the seaquake, of the tidal waves, and theaccidents to ships, " came from another quarter. 

"The news being of especial interest to this archipelago, where we havethe misfortune to be and where we noticed nothing of the whole affair, "returned Harryman. 

"You don't mean to imply, " broke in the colonel, "that the news of thiscatastrophe is a pure invention--an invention of the English papers inHong-Kong?"

"Don't know, I'm sure, " said Harryman. "Hong-Kong papers are nocriterion for me. " And then he added quietly: "Yes, man is great, andthe newspaper is his prophet. "

"But you can't dispute the fact that a seaquake may have taken place, when you consider the striking results as shown by the cableinterruptions which we have been experiencing for the last six days, "began Webster again. 

"Have we really?" said Harryman. "Are you quite sure of it? So far theonly authority we have for this supposed seaquake is a Japanesecaptain--whom, by the way, I am having sharply watched--and a bundle ofworthless Hong-Kong newspapers. And as for the rest of myhallucinations"--he jumped down from the window-sill and, going up toWebster, held out a sheet of paper toward him--"I'm in the habit ofusing other sources of information than the English-Japanesefingerposts. "

Webster glanced at the paper and then looked at Harryman questioningly. 

"What is it? Do you understand it?"

"Yes, " snapped Harryman. "These little pictures portray our war ofextermination against the red man. They are terribly exaggerated anddistorted, which was not at all necessary, by the way, for the events ofthat war do not add to the fame of our nation. Up here, " explainedHarryman, while several officers, among them the colonel, stepped up tothe table, "you see the story of the infected blankets from the feverhospitals which were sent to the Indians; here the butchery of an Indiantribe; here, for comparison, the fight on the summit of the volcano ofIlo-Ilo, where the Tagala were finally driven into the open crater; andhere, at the end, the practical application for the Tagala: 'As theAmericans have destroyed the red man, so will you slowly perish underthe American rule. They have hurled your countrymen into the chasm ofthe volcano. This crater will devour you all if you do not turn thoseweapons which were once broken by Spanish bondage against yourdeliverers of 1898, who have since become your oppressors. '"

"Where did you get the scrawl?" asked the colonel excitedly. 

"Do you want me to procure hundreds, thousands like it for you?"returned Harryman coolly. 

The colonel pressed down the ashes in his pipe with his thumb, and askedindifferently: "You understand Japanese?"

"Tagala also, " supplemented Harryman simply. 

"And you mean to say that thousands----?"

"Millions of these pictures, with Japanese and Malayan text, are beingcirculated in the Philippines, " said Harryman positively. 

"Under our eyes?" asked a lieutenant naïvely. 

"Under our eyes, " replied Harryman, smiling, "our eyes which carelesslyoverlook such things. "

Colonel Webster rose and offered Harryman his hand. "I have misjudgedyou, " he said heartily. "I belong to your party from now on. "

"It isn't a question of party, " answered Harryman warmly, "or ratherthere will soon be only the one party. "

"Do you think, " asked Colonel McCabe, "that the supposed Japanese planof attack on the Philippines, published at the beginning of the year inthe _North China Daily News_, was authentic?"

"That question cannot be answered unless you know who gave the documentto the Shanghai paper, and what object he had in doing so, " repliedHarryman. 

"How do you mean?"

"Well, " continued Harryman, "only two possibilities can exist: thedocument was either genuine or false. If genuine, then it was anindiscretion on the part of a Japanese who betrayed his country to anEnglish paper--an English paper which no sooner gets possession of thisimportant document than it immediately proceeds to publish its contents, thereby getting its ally into a nice pickle. You will at once observehere three improbabilities: treason, indiscretion, and, finally, Englandin the act of tripping her ally. These actions would be incompatible, inthe first place, with the almost hysterical sense of patriotism of theJapanese; in the second, with their absolute silence and secrecy, and, in the third place, with the behavior of our English cousin since hismarriage to Madame Chrysanthemum----"

"The document was therefore not genuine?" asked the colonel. 

"Think it over. What was it that the supposed plan of attack set forth?A Japanese invasion of Manila with the fleet and a landing force ofeighty thousand men, and then, following the example of Cuba, aninsurrection of the natives, which would gradually exhaust our troops, while the Japanese would calmly settle matters at sea, Roschestwenski'stracks being regarded as a sufficient scare for our admirals. "

"That would no doubt be the best course to pursue in an endeavor topocket the Philippines, " answered the colonel thoughtfully; "and theplan would be aided by the widespread and growing opposition at home tokeeping the archipelago and putting more and more millions into theAsiatic branch business. "

"Quite so, " continued Harryman quickly, "if Japan wanted nothing elsebut the Philippines. "

"What on earth does she want in addition?" asked Webster. 

"The _mastery of the Pacific_, " said Harryman in a decided voice. 

"Commercial mastery?" asked Parrington, "or----"

"No; political, too, and with solid foundations, " answered Harryman. 

Colonel McCabe had sat down again, and was studying the pamphlet, Parrington picked at the label on his whisky bottle, and the othersremained silent, but buried in thought. In the next room a clock struckten with a hurried, tinkling sound which seemed to break up the uneasysilence into so many small pieces. 

"And if it was not genuine?" began Colonel McCabe again, hoarsely. Hecleared his throat and repeated the question in a low tone of voice:"And if it was not genuine?"

Harryman shrugged his shoulders. 

"Then it would be a trap for us to have us secure our information fromthe wrong quarter, " said the colonel, answering his own question. 

"A trap into which we are rushing at full speed, " continued Webster, laying stress on each word, though his thoughts seemed to be far inadvance of what he was saying. 

Harryman nodded and twisted his mustache. 

"What did you say?" asked Parrington, jumping up and looking fromWebster to Harryman, neither of whom, however, volunteered a reply. "Weare stumbling into a trap?"

"Two regiments, " said Webster, more to himself than to the others. Andthen, turning to Harryman, he asked briskly: "When are the transportsexpected to arrive?"

"The steamers with two regiments on board left 'Frisco on April 10th, therefore--he counted the days on his fingers--they should be here bynow. "

"No, they were to go straight to Mindanao, " said Parrington. 

"Straight to Mindanao?" Colonel McCabe meditated silently. Then, asthough waking up suddenly, he went on: "And the cable has not beenworking for six days----"

"Exactly, " interrupted Parrington, "we have known nothing, either ofthe fleet or of anything else, for the last six days. "

"Harryman, " said Colonel McCabe seriously, "do you think there isdanger? If it is all a trap, it would be the most stupid thing that wecould do to send our transports unprotected-- But that's all nonsense!This heat positively dries up your thoughts. No, no, it's impossible;they're hallucinations bred by the fermented vapors of this God-forsakencountry!" He pressed the electric button, and the boy appeared at thedoor behind him. "Some soda, Pailung!"

"Parrington, are you coming? I ordered my boat for ten o'clock, " saidHarryman. 

"As early as this, Harryman?" remonstrated Webster. "You'll be on boardyour boat quite soon enough, or do you want to keep a night watch alsoon your Japanese of the-- What sort of a Maru was it?" he broke off, because Colonel McCabe pointed angrily at the approaching boy. 

"Oh, nonsense!" growled Webster ill-humoredly. "A creature like thatdoesn't see or hear a thing. "

The colonel glared at Webster, and then noisily mixed his drink. 

Harryman and Parrington walked along the quay in silence, their stepsresounding loudly in the stillness of the night. On the other side ofthe street fleeting shadows showed at the lighted windows of severalharbor dens, over the entrance to which hung murky lamps and from whichloud voices issued, proving that all was still in full swing there. There were only a few more steps to the spot where the yellow circle oflight from the lanterns rendered the white uniforms of the sailors inthe two boats visible. Parrington stood still. "Harryman, " he said, repeating his former question, "do you believe there is danger----"

"I don't know, I really don't know, " said Harryman nervously. Then, seizing Parrington's hands, he continued hurriedly, but in a low voice:"For days I have been living as if in a trance. It is as if I were lyingin the delirium of fever; my head burns and my thoughts always return tothe same spot, boring and burrowing; I feel as though a horrible eyewere fixed on me from whose glance I cannot escape. I feel that I may atany moment awake from the trance, and that the awakening will be stillmore dreadful. "

"You're feverish, Harryman; you're ill, and you'll infect others. Youmust take some quinine. " With these words Parrington climbed into hisgig, the sailors gave way with the oars, and the boat rushed through thewater and disappeared into the darkness, where the bow oarsman wassilhouetted against the pale yellow light of the boat's lantern like astrange phantom. 

Harryman looked musingly after the boat of the _Mindoro_ for a fewminutes, and murmured: "He certainly has no fever which quinine will notcure. " Then he got into his own boat, which also soon disappeared intothe sultry summer night, while the dark water splashed and gurgledagainst the planks. The high quay wall, with its row of yellow and whitelights, remained behind, and gradually sank down to the water line. Theyrowed past the side of a huge English steamer, which sent back thesplash of the oars in a strange hollow echo, and then across to the_Monadnock_. 

Harryman could not sleep, and joined the officer on duty on the bridge, where the slight breeze which came from the mountains afforded a littlecoolness. 

 * * * * *

On board the _Mindoro_ Parrington had found orders to take the reliefguard for the wireless telegraph station to Mariveles the next morning. At six o'clock the little gunboat had taken the men on board, and wasnow steering across the blue Bay of Manila toward the little rockyisland of Corregidor, which had recently been strongly fortified, andwhich lies like a block of stone between gigantic mountain wings in thevery middle of the entrance to the Bay of Manila. Under a gray sail, which served as a slight protection from the sun, the soldiers squattedsullenly on their kits. Some were asleep, others stared over the railinginto the blue, transparent water that rippled away in long waves beforethe bow of the little vessel. From the open skylight of the engine roomsounded the sharp beat of the engine, and the smell of hot oil spreadover the deck, making the burning heat even more unbearable. Parringtonstood on the bridge and through his glass examined the steep cliffs atthe entrance to the bay, and the bizarre forms of the little volcanicislands. 

Except for a few fishing boats with their brown sails, not a ship was tobe seen on the whole expanse of the water. The gunboat now turned intothe northern entrance, and the long, glistening guns in thefortifications of Corregidor became visible. Up above, on the batterieshewn in the rocks, not a living soul could be seen, but below, on thelittle platform where the signal-post stood near the northern battery, an armed sentry marched up and down. Parrington called out to thesignalman near him: "Send this signal across to Corregidor: 'We aregoing to relieve the wireless telegraph detachment at Mariveles, andshall call at Corregidor on our way back. '" The Corregidor batteryanswered the signal, and informed Parrington that Colonel Prettymanexpected him for lunch later on. Slowly the _Mindoro_ crept along thecoast to the rocky Bay of Mariveles, where, before the few neglectedhouses of the place, the guard of the wireless telegraph station, whichstood on the heights of Sierra de Mariveles, was awaiting the arrival ofthe gunboat. 

The _Mindoro_ was made fast to the pier. The exchange of men took placequickly, and the relief guard piled their kits on two mule-carts, inwhich they were to be carried up the steep hillside to the top, where afew flat, white houses showed the position of the wireless station, thehigh post of which, with its numerous wires, stood out alone against theblue sky. The relieved men, who plainly showed their delight at gettingaway from this God-forsaken, tedious outpost, made themselvescomfortable in the shade afforded by the sail, and began to chat withthe crew of the _Mindoro_ about the commonplaces of military service. Ashrill screech from the whistle of the _Mindoro_ resounded from themountain side as a farewell greeting to the little troop that wasclimbing slowly upward, followed by the baggage-carts. The _Mindoro_cast off from the pier, and, having rounded the neck of land on whichMariveles stood, was just on the point of starting in the direction ofCorregidor, when the signalman on the bridge called Parrington'sattention to a black steamer which was apparently steaming at full speedfrom the sea toward the entrance to the Bay of Manila. 

"A ship at last, " said Parrington. "Let's wait and see what sort of acraft it is. "

While the _Mindoro_ reduced her speed noticeably, Parrington lookedacross at the strange vessel through his glasses. The ship had alsoattracted the attention of the crew, who began to conjecture excitedlyas to the nationality of the visitor, for during the past week a strangevessel had become a rather unusual sight in Manila. The wirelessdetachment said that they had seen the steamer two hours ago from thehill. 

Parrington put down his glass and said: "About four thousand tons, butshe has no flag. We can soon remedy that. " And turning to the signalmanhe added: "Ask her to show her colors. " At the same time he pulled therope of the whistle in order to attract the stranger's attention. 

In a few seconds the German colors appeared at the stern of theapproaching steamer, and the signal flag, which at the same time wasquickly hoisted at the foretopmast, proclaimed the ship to be the Germansteamer _Danzig_, hailing from Hong-Kong. Immediately afterwards a boatwas lowered from the _Danzig_ and the steamer stopped; then the whitecutter put to sea and headed straight for the _Mindoro_. 

"It is certainly kind of them to send us a boat, " said Parrington. "Iwonder what they want, anyhow. " He gave orders to stop the boat and toclear the gangway, and then, watching the German cutter with interest, awaited its arrival. Ten minutes later the commander of the _Danzig_stepped on the bridge of the _Mindoro_, introduced himself to hercommander, and asked for a pilot to take him through the mines in theroads. 

Parrington regarded him with astonishment. "Mines, my dear sir, mines?There are no mines here. "

The German stared at Parrington unbelievingly. "You have no mines?"

"No, " said Parrington. "It is not our custom to blockade our harborswith mines except in time of war. "

"In time of war?" said the German, who did not appear to comprehendParrington's answer. "But you are at war. "

"We, at war?" returned Parrington, utterly disconcerted. "And with whom, if I may be allowed to ask?"

"It seems to me that the matter is too serious to be a subject forjesting, " answered the German sharply. 

At this moment loud voices were heard from the after-deck of the_Mindoro_, the crew of which were swearing with great gusto. Parringtonhurried to the railing and looked over angrily. A hot dispute was goingon between the crew of the German cutter and the American sailors, butonly the oft-repeated words "damned Japs" could be distinguished. Heturned again to the German officer, and looked at him hesitatingly. Thelatter, apparently in a bad temper, looked out to sea, whistling softlyto himself. 

Parrington walked toward him and, seizing his hand, said: "It's clearthat we don't understand each other. What's up?"

"I am here to inform you, " answered the German sharply and decisively, "that the steamer _Danzig_ ran the blockade last night, and that itscaptain politely requests you to give him a pilot through the mines, inorder that we may reach the harbor of Manila. "

"You have run the blockade?" shouted Parrington, in a state of thegreatest excitement. "You have run the blockade, man? What the deuce doyou mean?"

"I mean, " answered the German coolly, "that the Government of the UnitedStates of America--a fact, by the way, of which you, as commander of oneof her war vessels, ought to be aware--has been at war with Japan forthe last week, and that a steamer which has succeeded in running theenemy's blockade and which carries contraband goods for Manila surelyhas the right to ask to be guided through the mines. "

Parrington felt for the railing behind him and leaned against it forsupport. His face became ashen pale, and he seemed so utterly nonplussedat the German officer's statement that the latter, gradually beginningto comprehend the extraordinary situation, continued his explanation. 

"Yes, " he repeated, "for six days your country has been at war withJapan, and it was only natural we should suppose that you, as one ofthose most nearly concerned, would be aware of this fact. "

Parrington, regaining his self-control, said: "Then the cabledisturbances--" He stopped, then continued disjointedly: "But this isterrible; this is a surprise such as we-- I beg your pardon, " he went onin a firm voice to the German, "I am sure I need not assure you thatyour communication has taken me completely by surprise. Not a soul inManila has any idea of all this. The cable disturbances of the last sixdays were explained to us by a Japanese steamer as being the result of avolcanic outbreak, and since then, through the interruption of allconnections, we have been completely shut off from the outside world. IfJapan, in defiance of all international law, has declared war, we herein Manila have noticed nothing of it, except, perhaps, for the entireabsence, during the last few days, of the regular steamers and, indeed, of all trading ships, a circumstance that appeared to some of us rathersuspicious. But excuse me, we must act at once. Please remain on board. "

The _Mindoro's_ whistle emitted three shrill screeches, while thegunboat steamed at full speed toward Corregidor. 

Parrington went into his cabin, opened his desk, and searched through itwith nervous haste. "At last!" He seized the war-signal code and ranupstairs to the bridge, shouting to the signalman: "Signal toCorregidor: 'War-signal code, important communication. '" Then hehimself, hastily turning over the leaves of the book, called out thesignals and had them hoisted. Then he shouted to the man at the helm:"Tell them not to spare the engines. "

Parrington stood in feverish expectation on the bridge, his handsclinched round the hot iron bars of the breastwork and his eyesmeasuring the rapidly diminishing distance between the _Mindoro_ andthe landing place of Corregidor. As the _Mindoro_ turned into thenorthern passage between Corregidor and the mainland, the chain ofmountains, looking like banks of clouds, which surrounded Manila, becamevisible in the far distance across the blue, apparently boundlesssurface of the Bay, while the town itself, wrapped in the white mistthat veiled the horizon, remained invisible. At this moment Parringtonobserved a dark cloud of smoke in the direction of the harbor of Manilasuddenly detaching itself from below and sailing upward like a fumaroleabove the summit of a volcano, where it dispersed in bizarre shapesresembling ragged balls of cotton. Almost immediately a dull report likea distant thunderclap boomed across the water. 

"Can that be another of their devilish tricks?" asked Parrington of theGerman, drawing his attention to the rising cloud, the edges of whichglistened white as snow in the bright sunshine. 

"Possibly, " was the laconic answer. 

The wharf of Corregidor was in a state of confused hubbub. Theartillerymen stood shoulder to shoulder, awaiting the arrival of the_Mindoro_. Suddenly an officer forced his way through the crowd, and, standing on the very edge of the wharf, called out to the rapidlyapproaching _Mindoro_: "Parrington, what's all this about?"

"It's true, every word of it, " roared the latter through the megaphone. "The Japanese are attacking us, and the German steamer over there is thefirst to bring us news of it. War broke out six days ago. "

The _Mindoro_ stopped and threw a line, which was caught by many willinghands and made fast to the landing place. 

"Here's my witness, " shouted Parrington across to Colonel Prettyman, "the commander of the German steamer _Danzig_. "

"I'll join you on board, " answered Prettyman. "I've just despatched thenews to Manila by wireless. Of course they won't believe it there. "

"Then you've done a very stupid thing, " cried Parrington, horrified. "Look there, " he added, pointing to the cloud above the harbor ofManila; "that has most certainly cost our friend Harryman, of the_Monadnock_, his life. His presentiments did not deceive him after all!"

"Cost Harryman, on board the _Monadnock_, his life?" asked Prettyman inastonishment. 

"I'm afraid so, " answered Parrington. "The Japanese steamer whichbrought us the news of the famous seaquake has been anchored beside himfor four days. When you sent your wireless message to Manila, theJapanese must have intercepted it, for they have a wireless apparatus onboard--I noticed it only this morning. "

The _Mindoro_ now lay fast beside the wharf, and Colonel Prettymanhurried across the gangway to the gunboat and went straight toParrington's cabin, where the two shut themselves up with the Germanofficer. 

A few minutes later an excited orderly rushed on board and demanded tosee the colonel at once; he was let into the cabin, and it was foundthat he had brought a confirmation of Parrington's suspicions, for awireless message from Manila informed them that the _Monadnock_ had beendestroyed in the roads of Manila through some inexplicable explosion. 

Parrington sprang from his chair and cried to the colonel: "Won't you atleast pay those cursed Japs back by sending the message, 'We suspectthat the Japanese steamer anchored beside the _Monadnock_ has blown herup by means of a torpedo?' Otherwise it is just possible that they willbe naïve enough in Manila to let the scoundrel get out of the harbor. No, no, " he shouted, interrupting himself, "we can't wait for that; wemust get to work ourselves at once. Colonel, you go ashore, and I'llsteam toward Manila and cut off the rogue's escape. And you"--turning tothe German--"you can return to your ship and enter the bay; there areno"--here his voice broke--"no mines here. "

Then he rushed up on the bridge again. The hawsers were cast off infeverish haste, and the _Mindoro_ once more steamed out into the bay atthe fastest speed of which the old craft was capable. Parrington hadregained his self-command in face of the new task that the events justdescribed, which followed so rapidly upon one another's heels, laid outfor him. An expression of fierce joy came over his features when, looking through his glass an hour later, he discovered the _Kanga Maru_holding a straight course for Corregidor. 

As calmly as if it were only a question of everyday maneuvers, Parrington gave his orders. The artillerymen stood on either side of thesmall guns, and everything was made ready for action. 

The distance between the two ships slowly diminished. 

"Yes, it is the Japanese steamer, " said Parrington to himself. "And nowto avenge Harryman! There'll be no sentimentality; we'll shoot themdown like pirates! No signal, no warning--nothing, nothing!" hemurmured. 

"Stand by with the forward gun, " he called down from the bridge to themen standing at the little 12 pounder on the foredeck of the _Mindoro_. The _Mindoro_ turned a little to starboard, so as to get at thebroadside of the Japanese, and thus be able to fire on him with both theforward and after guns. 

"Five hundred yards! Aim at the engine room! Number one gun, fire!" Theshot boomed across the sunny, blue expanse of water, driving a whitepuff of smoke before it. The shell disappeared in the waves about onehundred yards ahead of the Japanese steamer. The next shot struck theship, leaving in her side a black hole with jagged edges just above thewaterline. 

"Splendid!" cried Parrington. "Keep that up and we'll have the villainin ten shots. "

Quickly the 12 pounder was reloaded; the gunners stood quietly besidetheir gun, and shot after shot was fired at the Japanese ship, of whichfive or six hit her right at the waterline. The stern gun of the_Mindoro_ devoted itself in the meantime to destroying things on theenemy's deck. Gaping holes appeared everywhere in the ship's side, andthe funnels received several enormous rents, out of which brown smokepoured forth. In a quarter of an hour the deck resembled the primevalchaos, being covered with bent and broken iron rods, iron plates riddledwith shot, and woodwork torn to splinters. Suddenly clouds of whitesteam burst out from all the holes in the ship's sides, from theskylights, and from the remnants of the funnels; the deck in the middleof the steamer rose slowly, and the exploding boilers tossed broken bitsof engines and deck apparatus high up into the air. The _Kanga Maru_listed to port and disappeared in the waves, over which a few stragglingAmerican shots swept. 

"Cease firing!" commanded Parrington. Then the _Mindoro_ came about andagain steered straight for Manila. The act of retribution had beenaccomplished; the treacherous murder of the crew of the _Monadnock_ hadbeen avenged. 

When the _Mindoro_ arrived at the harbor of Manila, the town was in atremendous state of excitement. The drums were beating the alarm in thestreets. The spot where only that morning the _Monadnock_ had lain inidle calm was empty. 

 * * * * *

The explosion of the _Monadnock_ had at first been regarded as anaccident. In spite of its being the dinner hour, a number of boatsappeared in the roads, all making toward the scene of the accident, where a broad, thick veil of smoke crept slowly over the surface of thewater. As no one knew what new horrors might be hidden in this cloud, none of the boats dared go nearer. Only two white naval cuttersbelonging to the gunboats lying in the harbor glided into the mist, driven forward by strong arms; and they actually succeeded in saving afew of the crew. 

One of the rescued men told the following story: About two minutes afterthe _Monadnock_ had received a wireless message, which, however, wasnever deciphered, a dull concussion was felt throughout the ship, followed almost immediately by another one. On the starboard side of the_Monadnock_ two white, bubbling, hissing columns of water had shot up, which completely flooded the low deck; then a third explosion, possiblycaused by a mine striking the ammunition room and setting it off, practically tore the ship asunder. There could be no doubt that thesetorpedoes came from the Japanese steamer anchored beside the_Monadnock_, for the _Kanga Maru_ had suddenly slipped her anchor andhurried off as fast as she could. It was now remembered that theJapanese ship had had steam up constantly for the last few days, ostensibly because they were daily expecting their cargo in lighters, from which they intended to load without delay. It was therefore prettycertain that the _Kanga Maru_ had entered the harbor merely for thepurpose of destroying the _Monadnock_, the only monitor in Manila. Torpedo tubes had probably been built in the Japanese merchant steamerunder water, and this made it possible to blow up the _Monadnock_ themoment there was the least suspicion that the Americans in Manila wereaware of the fact that war had broken out. Thus the wireless messagefrom Corregidor had indeed sealed the fate of the _Monadnock_. The_Kanga Maru_ had launched her torpedoes, and then tried to escape. Themeeting with the _Mindoro_ the Japanese had not reckoned with, for theyhad counted on getting away during the confusion which the destructionof the _Monadnock_ would naturally cause in Manila. 

As a result of these occurrences the few ships in the roads of Manilasoon stopped loading and discharging; most of the steamers weighedanchor, and, as soon as they could get up steam, went farther out intothe roads, for a rumor had spread that the _Kanga Maru_ had laid mines. The report turned out to be entirely unfounded, but it succeeded incausing a regular panic on some of the ships. From the town came thenoise of the beating of drums and the shrill call to arms to alarm thegarrison; one could see the quays being cleared by detachments ofsoldiers, and sentries were posted before all the public buildings. 

American troops hurried on the double-quick through the streets of theEuropean quarter, and the sight of the soldiers furnished the firstelement of reassurance to the white population, whose excitement hadbeen tremendous ever since the alarm of the garrison. The old Spanishbatteries, or rather what was still left of them, were occupied byartillerymen, while one battalion went on sentry duty on the ramparts ofthe section of the town called _Intra muros_, and five other battalionsleft the town at once in order to help garrison the redoubts and fortsin the line of defense on the land side. 

The town of Manila and the arsenal at Cavite, where measures for defensewere also taken, thus gave no cause for apprehension; but, on the otherhand, it was noticeable that the natives showed signs of insubordinationtoward the American military authorities, and that they did not attemptto conceal the fact that they had been better informed as to thepolitical situation than the Americans. These were the first indicationsas to how the land lay, and gradually it began to be remembered thatsimilar observations had been made within the last few days: forexample, a number of revolutionary flags had had to be removed in thetown. 

The Americans were in a very precarious position, and at the council ofwar held by the governor in the afternoon it was decided that should theFilipinos show the slightest signs of insurrection, the whole militarystrength would be concentrated to defend Manila, Cavite, and the singlerailway running north, while all the other garrisons were to bewithdrawn and the rest of the archipelago left to its own devices. Inthis way the Americans might at least hope, with some chance of success, to remain masters of Manila and vicinity. The island was, of course, proclaimed to be in a state of siege, and a strong military patrol wasput in charge of the night watch. 

A serious encounter took place in the afternoon before the Governmentbuilding. As soon as it became known that proclamation of martial lawhad been made the population streamed in great crowds toward theGovernment buildings; and when the American flag was suddenly hauleddown--it has never been ascertained by whom--and the Catipunàn flag, formerly the standard of the rebels--the tri-color with the sun in atriangular field--appeared in its place, a moment of wild enthusiasmensued, so wild that it required an American company with fixed bayonetsto clear the square of the fanatics. The sudden appearance of this hugeCatipunàn flag seemed mysterious enough, but the next few days were todemonstrate clearly how carefully the rebellion among the natives hadbeen prepared. 

When the officers of the garrison assembled at the customary place onthe evening of the same day, they were depressed and uneasy, as men whofind themselves confronted by an invisible enemy. There was no longerany difference of opinion as to the danger that threatened from theMongolians, and those officers who had been exonerated from the chargeof being too suspicious by the rapid developments of the last few hourswere considerate enough not to make their less far-sighted comrades feelthat they had undervalued their adversaries. No one had expected acatastrophe to occur quite so suddenly, and the uncertainty as to whatwas going on elsewhere had a paralyzing effect on all decisions. Whatone could do in the way of defense had been or was being done, but therewere absolutely no indications as to the side from which the enemy mightbe expected. 

The chief cause for anxiety at the moment was furnished by the questionwhether the squadron which had started for Mindanao was already aware ofthe outbreak of war. In any case, it was necessary to warn both it andthe transports expected from San Francisco before they arrived atMindanao. The only ships available for this purpose were the few littlegunboats taken from the Spaniards in 1898; these had been made fit forservice in all haste to be used in the harbor when the cruiser squadronleft. Although they left much to be desired in the way of speed--ahandicap of six days could, however, hardly have been made up even bythe swiftest turbine--there was nevertheless a fair chance that theseinsignificant-looking little vessels, which could hardly bedistinguished from the merchant type, might be able to slip past theJapanese blockading ships, which were probably cruising outside ofManila. This, however, would only be possible in case the Japanese hadthus far ignored the squadron near Mindanao as they had Manila, for thepurpose of concentrating their strength somewhere else. But where? Atany rate, it was worth while taking even such a faint chance of beingable to warn the squadron, for the destruction of the _Monadnock_ couldhave had no other reason than to prevent communications between Manilaand the squadron. The enemy had evidently not given a thought to therickety little gunboats. Or could it be that all was already at an endout at Mindanao? At all events, the attempt had to be made. 

Two gunboats coaled and slipped out of the harbor the same evening, heading in a southeasterly direction among the little islands straightthrough the archipelago in order to reach the eastern coast of Mindanaoand there intercept the transport steamers, and eventually accompanythem to Manila. Neither of these vessels was ever heard from again; itis supposed that they went down after bravely defending themselvesagainst a Japanese cruiser. Their mission had meanwhile been rendereduseless, for the five mail-steamers had encountered the Japanesetorpedo-boats east of Mindanao three days before, and upon theirindignant refusal to haul down their flags and surrender, had been sunkby several torpedoes. Only a few members of the crew had been fished upby the Japanese. 

As a reward for his decisive action in destroying the _Kanga Maru_, thecommander of the _Mindoro_ was ordered to try, with the assistance ofthree other gunboats, to locate the commander of the cruiser squadronsomewhere in the neighborhood of Mindanao, probably to the southwest ofthat island, in order to notify him of the outbreak of the war and tohand him the order to return to Manila. 

The gunboats started on their voyage at dawn. In order to conceal thereal reason for the expedition from the natives, it was openly declaredthat they were only going to do sentry duty at the entrance to the Bayof Manila. Each of the four vessels had been provided with a wirelessapparatus, which, however, was not to be installed until the ships wereunder way, so that the four commanders might always be in touch with oneanother, and with the cruiser squadron as well, even should the latterbe some distance away. 

The next morning the gunboats found themselves in the Strait of Mindoro. They must have passed the enemy's line of blockade unnoticed, under thecover of darkness. At all events, they had seen nothing of the Japanese, and concluded that the blockade before Manila must be pretty slack. Onleaving the Strait of Mindoro, the gunboats, proceeding abreast at smalldistances from one another, sighted a steamer--apparently anEnglishman--crossing their course. They tried to signal to it, but nosooner did the English vessel observe this, than she began to increaseher speed. It became clear at once that she was faster than thegunboats, and unless, therefore, the latter wished to engage in auseless chase, the hope of receiving news from the English captain hadto be abandoned. So the gunboats continued on their course--the onlyships to be seen on the wide expanse of inland sea. 

In the afternoon a white steamer, going in the opposite direction, wassighted. Opinions clashed as to whether it was a warship or amerchant-vessel. In order to make certain the commander of the _Mindoro_ordered a turn to starboard, whereupon it was discovered that thestrange ship was an ocean-steamer of about three thousand tons, whosenationality could not be distinguished at that distance. Still it mightbe an auxiliary cruiser from the Japanese merchant service. Thecommander of the _Mindoro_ therefore ordered his vessels to clear foraction. 

The actions of the strange steamer were followed with eager attention, and it was seen that she continued her direct northward course. When shewas about five hundred yards to port of the _Mindoro_, the latterrequested the stranger to show her flag, whereupon the English flagappeared at the stern. Eager for battle, the Americans had hoped shewould turn out to be a Japanese ship, for which, being four against one, they would have been more than a match; the English colors thereforeproduced universal disappointment. Suddenly one of the officers of the_Mindoro_ drew Parrington's attention to the fact that the whole buildof the strange steamer characterized her as one of the ships of the"Nippon Yusen Kaisha" with which he had become acquainted during hisservice at Shanghai; he begged Parrington not to be deceived by theEnglish flag. The latter at once ordered a blank shot to be fired forthe purpose of stopping the strange vessel, but when the latter calmlycontinued on her course, a ball was sent after her from the bow of the_Mindoro_, the shell splashing into the water just ahead of the steamer. The stranger now appeared to stop, but it was only to make a sharp turnto starboard, whereupon he tried to escape at full speed. At the sametime the English flag disappeared from the stern, and was replaced bythe red sun banner of Nippon. 

Parrington at once opened fire on the hostile ship, and in a few minutesthe latter had to pay heavily for her carelessness. Her commander hadevidently reckoned upon the fact that the Americans were not yet awareof the outbreak of war, and had hoped to pass the gunboats under coverof a neutral flag. It also seemed unlikely that four little gunboatsshould have run the blockade before Manila; it was far more natural tosuppose that these ships, still ignorant of the true state of affairs, were bound on some expedition in connection with the rising of thenatives. The firing had scarcely lasted ten minutes before the Japaneseauxiliary cruiser, which had answered with a few shots from two lightguns cleverly concealed behind the deck-house near the stern of theboat, sank stern first. It was at any rate a slight victory whichgreatly raised the spirits of the crews of the gunboats. 

Within the next few hours the Americans caught up with a few Malayansailing ships, to which they paid no attention; later on a little blackfreight steamer, apparently on the way from Borneo to Manila, came insight. The little vessel worked its way heavily through the water, tossed about by the ever increasing swell. About three o'clock thestrange ship was near enough for its flag--that of Holland--to berecognized. Signals were made asking her to bring to, whereupon anofficer from the _Mindoro_ was pulled over to her in a gig. Half an hourlater he left the _Rotterdam_, and the latter turned and steamed away inthe direction from which she had come. The American officer had informedthe captain of the _Rotterdam_ of the blockade of Manila, and the latterhad at once abandoned the idea of touching at that port. 

The news which he had to impart gave cause for considerable anxiety. The_Rotterdam_ came from the harbor of Labuan, where pretty definite newshad been received concerning a battle between some Japanese ships andthe American cruiser squadron stationed at Mindanao. It was reportedthat the battle had taken place about five days ago, immediately afterwar had been declared, that the American ships had fallen a prey to thesuperior forces of the enemy, and that the entire American squadron hadbeen destroyed. 

At all events, it was quite clear that the squadron no longer needed tobe informed of the outbreak of hostilities, so Parrington decided tocarry out his orders and return to Manila with his four ships. As theflotilla toward evening, just before sunset, was again passing throughthe Strait of Mindoro, the last gunboat reported that a big white ship, apparently a war vessel, had been sighted coming from the southeast, andthat it was heading for the flotilla at full speed. It was soon possibleto distinguish a white steamer, standing high out of the water, whosefighting tops left no room for doubt as to its warlike character. It wassoon ascertained that the steamer was making about fifteen knots, andthat escape was therefore impossible. 

Parrington ordered his gunboats to form in a line and to get up fullsteam, as it was just possible that they might be able to elude theenemy under cover of darkness, although there was still a whole hour tothat time. 

Slowly the hull of the hostile ship rose above the horizon, and when shewas still at a distance of about four thousand yards there was a flashat her bows, and the thunder of a shot boomed across the waters, echoedfaintly from the mountains of Mindoro. 

"They're too far away, " said Parrington, as the enemy's shell splashedinto the waves far ahead of the line of gunboats. A second shot followeda few minutes later, and whizzed between the _Mindoro_ and her neighbor, throwing up white sprays of water whose drops, in the rays of thesetting sun, fell back into the sea like golden mist. And now came shotafter shot, while the Americans were unable to answer with their smallguns at that great distance. 

Suddenly a shell swept the whole length of the _Mindoro's_ deck, on theport side, tearing up the planks of the foredeck as it burst. Thingswere getting serious! Slowly the sun sank in the west, turning the skyinto one huge red flame, streaked with yellow lights and deep greenpatches. The clouds, which looked like spots of black velvet floatingabove the semicircle of the sun, had jagged edges of gleaming white andunearthly ruby red. Fiery red, yellow, and green reflections playedtremblingly over the water, while in the east the deep blue shadows ofnight slowly overspread the sky. 

The whole formed a picture of rare coloring: the four little Americanships, pushing forward with all the strength of their puffing enginesand throwing up a white line of foam before them with their sharp bows;on the bridges the weather-beaten forms of their commanders, and besidethe dull-brown gun muzzles the gun crews, waiting impatiently for themoment when the decreasing distance would at last allow them to usetheir weapons; far away in the blue shadows of the departing day, like aspirit of the sea, the white steamer, from whose sides pouredunceasingly the yellow flashes from the mouths of the cannon. Severalshots had caused a good deal of damage among the rigging of thegunboats. The _Callao_ had only half a funnel left, from whichgray-brown smoke and red sparks poured forth. 

Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and the _Callao_ listed to port. Asix-inch shell had hit her squarely in the stern, passing through themiddle of the ship, and exploded in the upper part of the engine-room. The little gunboat was eliminated from the contest before it could firea single shot, and now it lay broadside to the enemy, and utterly at thelatter's mercy. In a few minutes the _Callao_ sank, her flags waving. Almost directly afterwards another boat shared her fate. The other twogunboats continued on their course, the quickly descending darknessmaking them a more difficult target for the enemy. Suddenly a lanternsignal informed the commander of the _Mindoro_ that the third ship hadbecome disabled through some damage to the engines. Parrington at onceordered the gunboat to be run ashore on the island of Mindoro and blownup during the night. Then he was compelled to leave the last of hiscomrades to its fate. His wireless apparatus had felt disturbances, evidently caused by the enemy's warning to the ships blockading Manila, so that his chances of entering the harbor unmolested appearedexceedingly slim. 

The Japanese cruiser ceased firing as it grew darker, but curiouslyenough had made no use whatever of her searchlights. Only the flyingsparks from her funnel enabled the _Mindoro_ to follow the course of thehostile vessel, which soon passed the gunboat. Either the enemy thoughtthat all four American ships had been destroyed or else they didn'tthink it worth while to worry about a disabled little gunboat. At allevents, this carelessness or mistake on the part of the enemy proved thesalvation of the _Mindoro_. During the night she struck a northwesterlycourse, so as to try to gain an entrance to the Bay of Manila from thenorth at daybreak, depending on the batteries of Corregidor to assisther in the attempt. Once during the night the _Mindoro_ almost collidedwith one of the enemy's blockading ships, which was traveling withshaded lights, but she passed by unnoticed and gained an entrance at thenorth of the bay at dawn, while the batteries on the high, rockyterraces of Corregidor, with their long-range guns, kept the enemy at adistance. It was now ascertained that the Japanese blockading fleetconsisted only of ships belonging to the merchant service, armed with afew guns, and of the old, unprotected cruiser _Takatshio_, which had hadthe encounter with the gunboats. The bold expedition of the latter hadcleared up the situation in so far that it was now pretty certain thatthe entire American cruiser squadron had been destroyed or disabled, andthat Manila was therefore entirely cut off from the sea. 

The batteries at Corregidor now expected an attack from the enemy'sships, but none came. The Japanese contented themselves with anextraordinarily slack blockade--so much so that at times one couldscarcely distinguish the outlines of the ships on the horizon. As allcommerce had stopped and only a few gunboats comprised the entire navalstrength of Manila, Japan could well afford to regard this mockery of ablockade as perfectly sufficient. Day by day the Americans stood attheir guns, day by day they expected the appearance of a hostile ship;but the horizon remained undisturbed and an uncanny silence lay over thetown and harbor. Of what use were the best of guns, and what was thegood of possessing heroic courage and a burning desire for battle, ifthe enemy did not put in an appearance? And he never did. 

When Parrington appeared at the Club on the evening after his scoutingexpedition he was hailed as a hero, and the officers stayed together along time discussing the naval engagement. In the early hours of themorning he accompanied his friend, Colonel Hawkins of the TwelfthInfantry Regiment, through the quiet streets of the northern suburbs ofManila to the latter's barracks. As they reached the gate they saw, standing before it in the pale light of dawn, a mule cart, on which layan enormous barrel. The colonel called the sentry, and learned that thecart had been standing before the gate since the preceding evening. Thecolonel went into the guard-room while Parrington remained in thestreet. He was suddenly struck by a label affixed to the cask, whichcontained the words, "From Colonel Pemberton to his friend ColonelHawkins. " Parrington followed the colonel into the guard-room and drewhis attention to the scrap of paper. Hawkins ordered some soldiers totake the barrel down from the car and break open one end of it. Thecolonel had strong nerves, and was apt to boast of them to the novicesin the colonial service, but what he saw now was too much even for suchan old veteran. He stepped back and seized the wall for support, whilehis eyes grew moist. 

In the cask lay the corpse of his friend Colonel Pemberton, formerlycommander of the military station of San José, with his skull smashedin. The Filipinos had surprised the station of San José and slaughteredthe whole garrison after a short battle. Pemberton's corpse--his lovefor whisky was well known--they had put into a cask and driven to theinfantry barracks at Manila. Parrington, deeply touched, pressed hiscomrade's hand. The insurrection of the Filipinos! In Manila the bellsof the Dominican church of _Intra muros_ rang out their monotonous callto early mass. 

_Chapter II_

ON THE HIGH SEAS

The _Tacoma_ was expected to arrive at Yokohama early the next morning;the gong had already sounded, calling the passengers to the farewellmeal in the dining-saloon, which looked quite festive with its coloredflags and lanterns. 

There was a deafening noise of voices in the handsome room, which wasbeginning to be overpoweringly hot in spite of the ever-revolvingelectric fans. As the sea was quite smooth, there was scarcely an emptyplace at the tables. A spirit of parting and farewell pervaded theconversation; the passengers were assembled for the last time, for onthe morrow the merry party, which chance had brought together for twoweeks, would be scattered to the four winds. Naturally the conversationturned upon the country whose celebrated wonders they were to behold onthe following day. The old globe-trotters and several merchants who hadsettled in East Asia were besieged with questions, occasionally verynaïve ones, about Japan and the best way for foreigners to get alongthere. With calm superiority they paraded their knowledge, and eagerladies made note on the backs of their menus of all the hotels, temples, and mountains recommended to them. Some groups were making arrangementsfor joint excursions in the Island Kingdom of Tenno; others discussedquestions of finance and commerce, each one trying to impress hiscompanions by a display of superior knowledge. 

Here and there politics formed the subject of conversation; one lady inparticular, the wife of a Baltimore merchant, sitting opposite thesecretary of a small European legation who was on his way to Pekin totake up his duties there, plied him with questions and did her levelbest to get at the secrets of international politics. The secretary, whohad no wonderful secrets to disclose, had recourse to the ordinarypolitical topics of the day, and entertained his fair listener with adiscussion of the problems that would arise in case of hostilitiesbetween America and Japan. "Of course, " he declared, vaunting hisdiplomatic knowledge, "in case of war the Japanese would first surpriseManila and try to effect a landing, and in this they would very likelybe successful. It is true that Manila with her strong defenses is prettywell protected against a sudden raid, and the Japanese gunners wouldhave no easy task in an encounter with the American coast batteries. Even though Manila may not turn out to be a second Port Arthur, theAmericans should experience no difficulty in repelling all Japaneseattacks for at least six months; meanwhile America could sendreinforcements to Manila under the protection of her fleet, and thenthere would probably be a decisive battle somewhere in the Malayanarchipelago between the Japanese and American fleets, the results ofwhich----"

"I thought, " interrupted a wealthy young lady from Chicago, "I thoughtwe had some ships in the Philippines. " The diplomat waved his handdeprecatingly, and smiled knowingly at this interruption. He was masterof the situation and well qualified to cast the horoscope of thefuture--and so he was left in possession of the field. 

The lady opposite him was, however, not yet satisfied; with the newwisdom just obtained she now besieged the German major sitting besideher, who was on his way to Kiao-chau via San Francisco. He had not beenpaying much attention to the conversation, but the subject broached tohim for discussion was such a familiar one, that he was at once postedwhen his neighbor asked him his opinion as to the outcome of such a war. 

Nevertheless it was an awkward question, and the German, out ofconsideration for his environment on board the American steamer, did notallow himself to be drawn out of his usual reserve. He simply inquiredwhat basis they had for the supposition that, in case of war, Japanwould occupy herself exclusively with the Philippines. 

The secretary of legation had gradually descended from the clouds ofdiplomatic self-conceit to the level of the ordinary mortal and, overhearing the major's question through the confusion of voices andclatter of plates, shook his head disapprovingly and asked the major:"Don't you think it's likely that Japan will try first of all to getpossession of the prize she has been longing for ever since the Peace ofParis?"

"I know as little as anyone else not in diplomatic circles what theplans and hopes of the Japanese Government are, but I do think there isnot the slightest prospect of an outbreak of hostilities in the nearfuture; there is, accordingly, not much sense in trying to imagine whatmight happen in case of a war, " answered the German coolly. 

"There are only two possibilities, " said the English merchant fromShanghai, one of the chief stockholders of the line, who sat next to thecaptain. "According to my experience"--and here he paused in order todraw the attention of his listeners to this experience--"according to myexperience, " he repeated, "there are only two possibilities. Japan isoverpeopled and is compelled to send her surplus population out of thecountry. The Manchuria experiment turned cut to be a failure, for theteeming Chinese population leaves no room now for more Japaneseemigrants and small tradesmen than there were before the war withRussia; besides, there was no capital at hand for large enterprises. Japan requires a strong foothold for her emigrants where"--and here hethrew an encouraging glance at the captain--"she can keep her peopletogether economically and politically, as in Hawaii. The emigration tothe States has for years been severely restricted by law. "

"And at the same time they are pouring into our country in droves by wayof the Mexican frontier, " mumbled the American colonel, who was on hisway back to his post, from his seat beside the captain. 

"That leaves only the islands of the Pacific, the Philippines, andperhaps Australia, " continued the Shanghai merchant undisturbed. "In anysuch endeavors Japan would of course have to reckon with the States andwith England. The other possibility, that of providing employment andsupport for the ever-increasing population within the borders of theirown country, would be to organize large Japanese manufacturinginterests. Many efforts have already been made in this direction, but, owing to the enormous sums swallowed up by the army and navy, therequisite capital seems to be lacking. "

"In my opinion, " interposed the captain at this juncture, "there is athird possibility--namely, to render additional land available for thecultivation of crops. As you are all no doubt aware, not more than onethird of Japan is under cultivation; the second third, consisting ofstone deserts among the mountains, must of necessity be excluded, butthe remaining third, properly cultivated, would provide a livelihoodfor millions of Japanese peasants. But right here we encounter apeculiar Japanese trait; they are dead set on the growth of rice, andwhere, in the higher districts, no rice will grow, they refuse to engagein agriculture altogether and prefer to leave the land idle. If theywould grow wheat, corn, and grass in such sections, Japan would not onlybecome independent of other countries with respect to her importation ofprovisions, but, as I said before, it would also provide for thesettlement of millions of Japanese peasants; and, furthermore, we shouldthen get some decent bread to eat in Japan. "

This conception of the Japanese problem seemed to open new vistas to thesecretary of legation. He listened attentively to the captain's wordsand threw inquiring glances toward the Shanghai merchant. The latter, however, was completely absorbed in the dissection of a fish, whosenumerous bones continually presented fresh anatomical riddles. In hisstead the thread of the conversation was taken up by Dr. Morris, ofBrighton, an unusually cadaverous-looking individual, who sometimesmaintained absolute silence for days at a time, and who was supposed topossess Japanese bronzes of untold value and to be on his way toHokkaido to complete his collection. 

"You must not believe everything you see in the papers, " he said. "Ifthe Japanese were only better farmers, nobody in Japan need go hungry;there is no question of her being overpeopled, and this mania foremigration is nothing but a disease, a fashion, of which the governmentat Tokio, to be sure, makes very good use for political purposes. Whoever speaks in all seriousness of Japan's being overpeopled is merelyquoting newspaper editorials, and is not acquainted with the conditionsof the country. "

Dr. Morris had scarcely said as much as this during the whole of histwo weeks' stay on board the _Tacoma_. It is true that he had got toknow Japan very thoroughly during his many years' sojourn in theinterior in search of old bronzes, and he knew what he was talkingabout. His views, however, were not in accord with those current at themoment, and consequently, although his words were listened toattentively, they did not produce much effect. 

The conversation continued along the same lines, and the possibility ofa war again came up for discussion. The German officer was the only oneto whom they could put military questions, and it was no light task forhim to find satisfactory answers. He could only repeat again and againthat such a war would offer such endless possibilities of attack anddefense, that it was absolutely impossible to forecast the probablecourse of events. The Shanghai merchant conversed with the captain in alow tone of voice about the system of Japanese spies in America, andrelated a few anecdotes of his experiences in China in this connection. 

"But one can distinguish between a Jap and a Chinaman at a glance, "interrupted the son of a New York multi-millionaire sitting oppositehim. "I could never understand why the Japanese spies are so overrated. "

"If you can tell one from the other, you are more observant than theordinary mortal, " remarked the Englishman dryly. "I can't for one, andif you'll look me up in Shanghai, I'll give myself the pleasure ofputting you to the test. I'll invite a party of Chinamen and ask you topick out from among them a Japanese naval officer who has been inShanghai for a year and a half on a secret, I had better say, aperfectly open mission. "

"You'll lose your bet, " said the captain to the New Yorker, "for I'velost a similar wager under the same circumstances. "

"But the Japanese don't wear pigtails, " said the New Yorker, somewhatabashed. 

"Those Japanese do wear pigtails, " said the Englishman with a grin. 

"What's up?" said the captain, looking involuntarily towards theentrance to the dining-saloon. "What's up? We're only going at halfspeed. "

The dull throbbing of the engine had indeed stopped, and any one whonoticed the vibration of the ship could tell that the propeller wasrevolving only slightly. 

The captain got up quietly to go on deck, but as he was making his wayout between the long rows of chairs, he met one of the crew, whowhispered to him that the first mate begged him to come on the bridge. 

"We're not moving, " said some one near the center of the table. "Wecan't have arrived this soon. "

"Perhaps we have met a disabled ship, " said a young French girl; "thatwould be awfully interesting. "

The captain remained away, while the dinner continued to be served. Suddenly all conversation was stopped by the dull howl of the steamwhistle, and when two more calls followed the first, an old globetrotter thought he had discovered the reason for the ship's slowingdown, and declared with certainty: "This is the third time on my way toJapan that we have run into a fog just before entering the harbor; thelast time it made us a day and a half late. I tell you it was no joke tosit in that gray mist with nothing to do but wait for the fog tolift----" and then he narrated a few anecdotes about that particularvoyage, which at once introduced the subject of fog at his table, asubject that was greedily pounced upon by all. London fog and other fogswere discussed, and no one noticed that the ship had come to a full stopand was gradually beginning to pitch heavily, a motion that soon hadthe effect of causing several of the ladies to abandon the conversationand play nervously with their coffee-spoons, as the nightmare ofseasickness forced itself every moment more disagreeably on theirmemories. 

A few of the men got up and went on deck. A merchant from San Franciscocame down and told his wife that a strange ship not far from the_Tacoma_ had its searchlights turned on her. No reason for thisextraordinary proceeding could be given, as the officers seemed to knowas little about it as the passengers. 

The fourth officer, whose place was at the head of one of the longtables, now appeared in the dining-saloon, and was at once besieged withquestions from all sides. In a loud voice he announced that the captainwished him to say that there was no cause for alarm. A strange ship hadits searchlights turned on the _Tacoma_, probably a man-of-war that hadsome communication to make. The captain begged the passengers not toallow themselves to be disturbed in their dinner. The next course wasserved immediately afterwards, the reason for the interruption was soonforgotten, and conversation continued as before. 

"But we're not moving yet, " said a young woman about ten minutes laterto her husband, with whom she was taking a honeymoon trip round theworld, "we're not moving yet. "

The fourth officer gave an evasive answer in order to reassure hisneighbor, but, as a matter of fact, the ship had not yet got under wayagain. To complicate the situation, another member of the crew came inat this moment and whispered something to the officer, who at oncehurried on deck. 

It was a positive relief to him to escape from the smell of food and theloud voices into the fresh air. It seemed like another world on deck. The stars twinkled in the silent sky, and the soft night air refreshedthe nerves that had been exhausted by the heat of the day. The fourthofficer mounted quickly to the bridge and reported to the captain. 

The latter gave him the following brief order: "Mr. Warren, I shall askyou to see that the passengers are not unnecessarily alarmed; let theband play a few pieces, and see that the dinner proceeds quietly. Make ashort speech in my stead, tell the passengers what a pleasant time wehave all had on this voyage, and say a few words of farewell to them forme. We've been signaled by a Japanese warship, " he continued, "and askedto stop and wait for a Japanese boat. I haven't the slightest idea whatthe fellows want, but we must obey orders; the matter will no doubt besettled in a few minutes as soon as the boat has arrived. "

The officer disappeared, and the captain, standing by the port yardarmon the bridge, waited anxiously for the cutter which was approaching atfull speed. The gangway had already been lowered. The cutter, afterdescribing a sharp curve, came alongside, and two marines armed withrifles immediately jumped on the gangway. 

"Halloo, " said the captain, "a double guard! I wonder what that means?"

The Japanese officer got out of the cutter and came up the gangway, followed by four more soldiers, two of whom were posted at the upperentrance to the gangway. The other two followed the officer to thebridge. A seventh man got out of the boat and carried a square box onthe bridge, while finally two soldiers brought a long heavy object upthe gangway and set it down against the wall of the cabin in the stern. 

The Japanese officer ordered the two marines to take up their stand atthe foot of the steps leading to the bridge, and with a wave of his handordered the third to station himself with his square box at the portrailing. At the same time he gave him an order in Japanese, and therattling noise which followed made it clear that the apparatus was alantern which was signaling across to the man-of-war. 

"This is carrying the joke a little too far. What does it all mean?"cried the captain of the _Tacoma_, starting to pull the man with thelantern back from the railing. But the Japanese officer laid his handfirmly on his right arm and said in a decisive tone: "Captain, in thename of the Japanese Government I declare the American steamer _Tacoma_a lawful prize and her whole crew prisoners of war. "

The captain shook off the grasp of the Japanese, and stepping back apace shouted: "You must be crazy; we have nothing to do with theJapanese naval maneuvers, and I shall have to ask you not to carry yourmaneuver game too far. If you must have naval maneuvers, please practiceon your own merchant vessels and leave neutral ships alone. "

The Japanese saluted and said: "I am very sorry, captain, to have tocorrect your impression that this is part of our maneuvers. Japan is atwar with the United States of America, and every merchantman flying theAmerican flag is from now on a lawful prize. "

The captain, a strapping fellow, seized the little Japanese, and pushedhim toward the railing, evidently with the intention of throwing theimpertinent fellow overboard. But in the same instant he noticed twoJapanese rifles pointed at him, whereupon he let his arms drop with anoath and stared at the two Japanese marines in utter astonishment. Thelantern signal continued to rattle behind him, and suddenly the paleblue searchlight from the man-of-war was thrown on the bridge of the_Tacoma_, lighting up the strange scene as if by moonlight. At the sametime the shot from a gun boomed across the quiet surface of the water. Things really seemed to be getting serious. 

From below, through the open skylights of the dining-saloon came thecheers of the passengers for the captain at the close of the fourthofficer's speech, and the band at once struck up the "Star SpangledBanner. " Everybody seemed to be cheerful and happy in the dining-saloon, and one and all seemed to have forgotten that the _Tacoma_ was notmoving. 

And while from below the inspiring strains of the "Star Spangled Banner"passed out into the night, twenty Japanese marines came alongside in asecond cutter and, climbing up the gangway, occupied all the entrancesleading from below to the deck--a double guard with loaded guns beingstationed at each door. 

"I must ask you, " said the Japanese officer to the captain, "to continueto direct the ship's course under my supervision. You will take the_Tacoma_, according to your original plans, into the harbor of Yokohama;there the passengers will leave the ship, without any explanations beingoffered, and you and the crew will be prisoners of the JapaneseGovernment. The prize-court will decide what is to be done with yourcargo. The baggage of the passengers, the captain, and the crew will, ofcourse, remain in their possession. There are now twenty of our marineson board the _Tacoma_, but in case you should imagine that they would beunable to command the situation in the event of any resistance beingoffered by you or your crew, I consider it advisable to inform you thatfor the last ten minutes there has been a powerful bomb in the stern ofthe _Tacoma_, guarded by two men, who have orders to turn on the currentand blow up your ship at the first signs of serious resistance. It isentirely to the advantage of the passengers in your care to bow to theinevitable and avoid all insubordination--_à la guerre comme à laguerre_. "

The Japanese saluted and continued: "You will remain in command on thebridge for the next four hours, when you will be relieved by the firstmate. Meanwhile the latter can acquaint the passengers with the alteredcircumstances. " And, waving his hand toward the first mate, who hadlistened in silent rage, he added: "Please, sir!"

The officer addressed looked inquiringly across to the captain, whohesitated a moment and then said in suppressed emotion: "Hardy, go downand tell the passengers that the _Tacoma_, through an unheard-of, treacherous surprise, has fallen into the hands of a Japanese cruiser, but that the passengers, on whose account we are obliged to submit tothis treatment, need not be startled, for they and all their possessionswill be landed safely at Yokohama to-morrow morning. "

Hardy's soles seemed positively to stick to the steps as he went down, and he was almost overcome by the warm air at the entrance to thedining-saloon, where the noise of boisterous laughter and livelyconversation greeted him. 

"Halloo, when are we going on?" he was asked from all sides. 

Mr. Hardy shook his head silently and went to the captain's place. 

"We must drink your health, " called several, holding their glassestowards him. "Where's the captain?"

Hardy was silent, but remained standing and the words seemed to chokehim. 

"Be quiet! Listen! Mr. Hardy is going to speak----"

"It's high time we heard something from the captain, " called out a stoutGerman brewer from Milwaukee over the heads of the others. "Threecheers for Mr. Hardy!" came from one corner of the room. "Three cheersfor Mr. Hardy!" shouted the passengers on the other side, and all joinedin the chorus: "For he is a jolly good fellow. " "Do let Mr. Hardyspeak, " said the Secretary of Legation, turning to the passengersreprovingly. 

"Silence!" came from the other side. The hum of voices ceased graduallyand silence ensued. 

"First give Mr. Hardy something to drink!" said some one, while anotherpassenger laughed out loud. 

Hardy wiped the perspiration from his brow with the captain's napkin, which the latter had left on his plate. 

"Shocking!" said an English lady quite distinctly; "seamen haven't anymanners. "

Hardy had not yet found words, but finally began in a low, stammeringvoice: "The captain wishes me to tell you that the _Tacoma_ has justbeen captured by a Japanese cruiser. The United States of America aresaid to be at war with Japan. There is a Japanese guard on board, whichhas occupied all the companionways. The captain requests the passengersto submit quietly to the inevitable. You will all be landed safely atYokohama early to-morrow and--" Hardy tried to continue, but the wordswould not come and he sank back exhausted into his chair. 

"Three cheers for the captain!" came the ringing shout from one of theend tables, to be repeated in different parts of the room. The Germanbrewer shook with laughter and exclaimed: "That's a splendid joke of thecaptain's; he ought to have a medal for it. "

"Stop your nonsense, " said some one to the brewer. 

"No, but really, that's a famous joke, " persisted the latter. "I'venever enjoyed myself so much on a trip before. "

"Be quiet, man; it's a serious matter. "

"Ha! ha! You've been taken in, too, have you?" was the answer, accompanied by a roar of laughter. 

An American jumped up, crying: "I'm going to get my revolver; I guess wecan handle those chaps, " and several others joined in with "Yes, yes, we'll get our revolvers and chuck the yellow monkeys overboard!"

At this point the German major jumped up from his seat and called out tothe excited company in a sharp tone of command: "Really, gentlemen, theaffair is serious; it's not a joke, as some of you gentlemen seem tothink; you may take my word for it that it is no laughing matter. "

Hardy still sat silent in his chair. The Englishman from Shanghaioverwhelmed him with questions and even the Secretary of Legationemerged from his diplomatic reserve. 

The six men who had gone to get their revolvers now returned to thedining-saloon with their spirits considerably damped, and one of themcalled out: "It's not a joke at all; the Japanese are stationed up therewith loaded rifles. "

Some of the ladies screamed hysterically and asked complete strangers totake them to their cabins. All of the passengers had jumped up fromtheir chairs, and a number were busily engaged looking after thoseladies who had shown sufficient discretion to withdraw at once from thegeneral excitement by the simple expedient of fainting. In the meantimeHardy had regained control of himself and of the situation, and standingbehind his chair as though he were on the captain's bridge declaredsimply and decisively: "On the captain's behalf I must beg thepassengers not to attempt any resistance. Your life and safety areguaranteed by the word of the captain and the bearing of our crew, whohave also been forced to submit to the inevitable. I beg you all toremain here and to await the further orders of the captain. There is nodanger so long as no resistance is offered; we are in the hands of theJapanese navy, and must accustom ourselves to the alteredcircumstances. "

It was long after midnight before all grew quiet on board the _Tacoma_;the passengers were busy packing their trunks, and it was quite latebefore the cabin lights were extinguished on both sides of the ship, which continued her voyage quietly and majestically in the direction ofYokohama. The deck, generally a scene of cheerful life and gaiety untila late hour, was empty, and only the subdued steps of the Japanesemarines echoed through the still night. 

Twice more the searchlights were thrown on the _Tacoma_, but aclattering answer from the signal lantern at once conveyed theinformation that all was in order, whereupon the glaring ball of lightdisappeared silently, and there was nothing on the whole expanse of darkwater to indicate that invisible eyes were on the lookout for every shipwhose keel was ploughing the deep. 

The _Tacoma_ arrived at Yokohama the next morning, the passengers weresent ashore, and the steamer herself was added as an auxiliary cruiserto the Japanese fleet. 

_Chapter III_

HOW IT BEGAN

Ding-ding-ding-ding--Ding-ding-ding-ding--went the bell of the railwaytelegraph--Ding-ding-ding-ding----

Tom Gardner looked up from his work and leaned his ax against the wallof the low tin-roofed shanty which represented both his home and thestation Swallowtown on the Oregon Railway. "Nine o'clock already, " hemumbled, and refilling his pipe from a greasy paper-bag, he lighted itand puffed out clouds of bluish smoke into the clear air of the hot Maymorning. Then he looked at the position of the sun and verified the factthat his nickel watch had stopped again. The shaky little house hunglike a chance knot in an endless wire in the middle of the glitteringdouble row of rails that stretched from east to west across the floweryprairie. It looked like a ridiculous freak in the midst of the widedesert, for nowhere, so far as the eye could reach, was it possible todiscover a plausible excuse for the washed-out inscription "Swallowtown"on the old box-lid which was nailed up over the door. Only a broad bandof golden-yellow flowers crossing the tracks not far from the shanty anddisappearing in the distance in both directions showed where heavycart-wheels and horses' hoofs had torn up the ground. 

By following this curious yellow track, which testified to the existenceof human intercourse even in the great lonely prairie, in a southerlydirection, one could notice about a mile from the station a slightrising of the ground covered with low shrubs and a tangled mass ofthistles and creepers: This was Swallowtown No. 1, the spot where onceupon a time a dozen people or more, thrown together by chance, hadfounded a homestead, but whose traces had been utterly obliteratedsince. The little waves of the great national migration to this virginsoil had after a few years washed everything away and had carried theinhabitants of the huts with them on their backs several miles farthersouth, where by another mere chance they had located on the banks of theriver. The only permanent sign of this ebb and flow was the tin-roofedshanty near the tracks of the Oregon Railway, and the proud name ofSwallowtown, fast disappearing under the ravages of storm and rain, onthe box-lid over Tom Gardner's door. 

Tom Gardner regarded his morning's work complacently. With the aid ofhis ax he had transformed the tree-stump that had lain behind thestation for years into a hitching-post, which he was going to set up forthe farmers, so that they could tie their horses to it when they came tothe station. Tom had had enough of fastening the iron ring into theouter wall of his shanty, for it had been torn out four times by theshying of the wild horses harnessed to the vehicles sent fromSwallowtown to meet passengers. And the day before yesterday BobCratchit's horses had added insult to injury by running off with a boardout of the back wall. Tom was sick and tired of it; the day before hehad temporarily stopped up the hole with a tin advertisement, whichnotified the inhabitants of Swallowtown who wanted to take the trainthat Millner's pills were the best remedy for indigestion. Tom decidedto set up his post at midday. 

He stopped work for the present in order to be ready for station-dutywhen the express from Pendleton passed through in half an hour. Fromforce of habit and half unconsciously, he glanced along the yellow roadrunning south, wondering whether in spite of its being Sunday theremight not be some traveler from Swallowtown coming to catch the localtrain which stopped at the station an hour later. He shaded his eyeswith his right hand and after a careful search did discover a cart withtwo persons in it approaching slowly over the waving expanse of theflower-bedecked prairie. Tom muttered something to himself and traipsedthrough the station house, being joined as usual by his dog, who hadbeen sleeping outside in the sun. Then he walked a little way along thetracks and finally turned back to his dwelling, the trampled-downflowers and grass before the entrance being the only signs that the footof man ever disturbed its solitary peace. The dog now seemed suddenly tobecome aware of the rapidly approaching cart and barked in thatdirection. Tom sent him into the house and shut the door behind him, whereupon the dog grew frantic. The cart approached almost noiselesslyover the flowery carpet, but soon the creaking and squeaking of theleather harness and the snorting of the horses became clearly audible. 

"Halloo, Tom!" called out one of the men. 

"Halloo, Winston!" was the answer; "where are you off to?"

"Going over to Pendleton. "

"You're early; the express hasn't passed yet, " answered Tom. 

Winston jumped down from the cart, swung a sack over his shoulder, andstepped toward the shanty. 

"Who's that with you?" asked Tom, pointing with his thumb over his rightshoulder. 

"Nelly's brother-in-law, Bill Parker, " said the other shortly. 

Nelly's brother-in-law was in the act of turning the cart round to driveback to Swallowtown when Tom, making a megaphone of his hands, shoutedacross: "Won't the gentleman do me the honor of having a drink on me?"

"All right, " rang out the answer, and Nelly's brother-in-law drove thehorses to the rear of the station. 

"Yes, the ring's gone, " said Tom. "Bob Cratchit's horses walked off withit yesterday. You can hunt for it out there somewhere if you want to. "

Bill jumped down and fastened the horses with a rope which he tied toTom's old tree-stump. 

"Come on, fellows!" said Tom, going toward the house. Scarcely had heopened the door when his dog rushed madly past him out into the open, barking with all his might at something about a hundred yards behind thestation. 

"I guess he's found a gopher, " said Tom, and then the three entered thehut, and Tom, taking a half-empty whisky bottle out of a cupboard, poured some into a cup without a handle, a shaving-cup, and an old tincup. 

"The express ought to pass in about ten minutes, " said Tom, and thenbegan the usual chat about the commonplaces of farm life, about thecrops, and the price of cattle, while hunting anecdotes followed. Nowand then Tom listened through the open door for sounds of the express, which was long overdue, till suddenly the back door was slammed shut bythe wind. 

It was Bill Parker's turn to treat, and he then told of how he had soldhis foals at a good profit, and Bob launched out into all sorts of vaguehints as to a big deal that he expected to pull off at Pendleton thenext day. Bill kept an eye on his two horses, which he could just seethrough the window in the rear wall of the shanty. 

"Don't let them run away from you, " warned Tom; "horses as fresh asthose generally skip off when the express passes by. "

"Nothing like that!" said Bill Parker, glancing again through the openwindow, "but they are unusually restless just the same. "

. .. "He was willing to give twenty dollars, was he?" asked Tom, resumingthe former conversation. 

But Bill gave no answer and continued to stare out of the window. 

"Here's how, gentlemen!" cried Tom encouragingly, touching Bill's tincup with his shaving-cup. 

"Excuse me a minute, " answered the latter; "I want to look after my--"He had got up and was moving toward the door, but stopped halfway, staring fixedly at the open window with a glassy expression in his eyes. The other two regarded him with unfeigned astonishment, but when theyfollowed the direction of his glance, they also started with fright asthey looked through the window. 

Yes, it was the same window as before, and beyond it stood the same teamof stamping, snorting horses before the same cart; but on the ledge ofthe window there rested two objects like black, bristling hedgehogs, andunder their prickly skins glistened two pairs of hostile eyes, andslowly and cautiously two gun-barrels were pushed over the ledge of thewindow into the room. At the same moment the door-knob moved, the doorwas pushed open, and in the blinding sunlight which suddenly poured intothe room appeared two more men in khaki clothes and also armed withguns. "Hands up, gentlemen!" cried one of them threateningly. 

The three obeyed the order mechanically, Tom unconsciously holding uphis shaving-cup as well, so that the good whisky flowed down his arminto his coat. He looked utterly foolish. Bill was the first torecover, and inquired with apparent nonchalance: "What are you gentlemenafter?" In the meantime he had noticed that the two men at the door woresoldiers' caps with broad peaks, and he construed this as a new holduptrick. 

The men outside were conversing in an unintelligible lingo, and theirleader, who was armed only with a Browning pistol, looked into the hutand asked: "Which of you gentlemen is the station-master?" Tom loweredhis shaving-cup and took a step forward, whereupon he was at once haltedby the sharp command: "Hands up!"

But this one step toward the door had enabled Tom to see that there wereat least a dozen of these brown fellows standing behind the wall of hisshanty. At the same time he saw his dog slinking about outside with histail between his legs and choking over something. He called the dog, andthe poor creature crept along the ground toward him, evidently makingvain attempts to bark. 

"The damned gang, " growled Tom to himself; "they have evidently giventhe poor beast something to eat which prevents his barking. "

The man with the Browning pistol now turned to Tom and said: "Has theexpress passed yet?"

"No. "

"No? I thought it was due at 9. 30. " The highwayman looked at his watch. "Past ten already, " he said to himself. "And when is the local trainfrom Umatilla expected?"

"It ought to be here at 10. 30. "

"The express goes through without stopping, doesn't it?" began the otheragain. "Good! Now you go out as if nothing had happened and let theexpress pass! The other two will remain here in the meantime and my menwill see that they don't stir. One move and you can arrange your funeralfor to-morrow. "

The two bristly-headed chaps at the window remained motionless, andfollowed the proceedings with a broad grin. The two men from Swallowtownwere compelled to stand with uplifted hands against the wall oppositethe window, so that the gun-barrels on the window-sill were pointingstraight at them. Winston had had sufficient time to study the twohighwaymen at the window and it gradually dawned upon him what sort ofrobbers they were; in a low tone of voice he said to Tom: "They'reJaps. "

The man with the Browning overheard the remark; he turned around quicklyand repeated in a determined voice: "If you move you'll die on thespot. "

Then he allowed Tom to leave the station, and showed him how two of hismen opened the shutters of the windows that looked out on the tracks andcut two oblong holes in them down on the side, through which they stuckthe barrels of their guns. Then Bill's cart was pushed forward, so thatonly the horses were hidden by the station. One of the men held thehorses to prevent their running away when the train came, and two armedmen climbed into the cart and kneeled ready to shoot, concealingthemselves from the railroad side behind two large bags of corn. Thereupon the leader told Tom once more that he was to stand in front ofthe station as usual when the train approached. If he attempted to makeany sign which might cause the train to stop, or if he merely opened hismouth, not only he, but also the occupants of the train, would have topay for it with their lives. 

Ding--ding--ding--ding went the railway telegraph, ding--ding--ding--ding. The man with the Browning consulted hisnote-book and asked Tom: "What signal is that? Where is the expressnow?"

Tom did not answer. 

"Go out on the platform!" commanded the other. With a hasty glance alongthe tracks, Tom assured himself that the spot back there, where the twotracks, which glittered like silver in the sun, crossed, was stillempty. So there was still a little more time to think. Then he began tostroll slowly up and down. Fifteen steps forward, fifteen back, eighteenforward, twenty back. Suppose he ran to meet the train----

"Halloo! Where are you going?" shouted the leader to him. "Don't youdare go five steps beyond the station house!"

Fifteen steps forward, fifteen back. And suppose now that he did jumpacross and run along the tracks? What would it matter--he, one amongmillions, without wife or child? Yes, he would warn the engineer; and ifthey shot at him, perhaps the people on the train also had revolvers. The express must come soon--it must be nearly half past ten. Mechanically, he read the name Swallowtown on the old box-lid. 

Not a sound from the interior of the station. Would they hit him or misshim when the train came? He examined the rickety old shutters. Yes, there was a white incision in the wood near the bottom, and above it thetin was bent back almost imperceptibly, while below it there was asmall, blackish-brown ring. On the other side there was another littlehole, and here the tin was bent back rather more, showing a secondsmall, blackish-brown ring. And suppose he did call out as the trainrushed by? He would call out!--A burst of flame from the twoblackish-brown rings--If he could only first explain everything to theengineer--then they could shoot all they wanted to. 

Horrid to be wounded in the back! Long ago at school there had oftenbeen talk about wounds in the back and in the chest--the former weredisgraceful, because they were a sign of running away. But this was notrunning away--this was an effort to save others. 

Were the rails vibrating? Four steps more, then a quiet turn, one lookinto the air, one far away over the prairie. He knew that the eyesbehind the dark-brown rings were following his every movement. Now alongthe tracks--is there anything coming way back there? No, not yet. Hewalked past the station, then along the tracks again, and looked to theleft across the prairie. 

Now his glance rested on the cart. It stood perfectly still. Sureenough, there, between the sacks, was another one of those bristlyheads! Where on earth had the fellows come from, and what in the worlddid they want? Winston had said they were Japs. 

Could this be war? Nonsense! How could the fellows have come so faracross country? A short time ago some one had said that a troop of Japshad been seen far away, down in Nevada, but that they had alldisappeared in the mountains. That was two months ago. Could these bethe same?

But it couldn't be a war. War begins at the borders of a country, notright in the middle. It is true that the Japanese immigrants were allsaid to be drilled soldiers. Had they brought arms along? Thesecertainly had!

Now the turn again. Ah! there was the train at last. Far away along thetracks a black square rose and quite slowly became wider and higher. Good God! if the next ten minutes were only over--if one could only wipesuch a span as this out of one's life! Only ten minutes older! If onecould only look back on those ten minutes from the other side! But no;one must go through the horror, second by second, taste every moment ofit. What would happen to the two inside? This didn't matter much afterall--they couldn't, in any case, overpower the others without weapons. Athousand yards more perhaps and then the train would be there! And thena thousand yards more, and he would either be nothing but an unconsciousmass of flesh and bones, or----

Now the rails were reverberating--from far away he heard the rumble ofthe approaching mass of iron and steel. And now, very low but distinct, the ringing of the bell could be distinguished--gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang-- He threw a hasty glance at the two blackish-brown rings;four steps further and he could again see the cart. The next time----

"Stand straight in front of the station and let the train pass!" soundedclose behind him. He obeyed mechanically. 

"Nearer to the house--right against the wall!" He obeyed. 

All his muscles tightened. If he could now take a leap forward andmanage to get hold of something--a railing or something--as the trainrushed by, then they could shoot as much as they liked. A rumbling androaring noise reached his ears, and he could hear the increasing thunderof the wheels on the rails, the noise of the bell--gang, gang, gang--growing more and more distinct. The engine, with its long row ofclattering cars behind, assumed gigantic dimensions before his wide-openeyes. 

Not a sound came from the house; now the rails trembled; now he heardthe hissing of the steam and the rattle of the rods; he saw the littlecurls of steam playing above the dome of the boiler. Like a black wall, the express came nearer, rushing, rumbling, hammering along the tracks. Yes, he would jump now--now that the engine was almost in front of him!The rush of air almost took his breath away. Now!

The engineer popped his head out of the little cab-window. Now! Tom bentdouble, and, with one tremendous leap he was across the narrow platformin front of his shanty, and flew like a ball against the line of rushingcars, of railings and steps and wheels. He felt his hand touchingsomething--nothing but flat, smooth surfaces. At last! He had caughthold of something! With a tremendous swing, Tom's body was torn to theleft, and his back banged against something. Something in his bodyseemed to give way. As in a dream, he heard two shots ring out above thefearful noise of the roaring train. 

Too late! Tom was clinging to a railing between two cars and beingdragged relentlessly along. He was almost unconscious, but could hearthe wheels squeaking under the pressure of the brakes as he was hurledto and fro. But his hand held fast as in a vise. The wheels scraped, squeaked, and groaned. The train began to slow down! He had won! Thetrain stood still. 

Tom's body fell on the rail between two cars, almost lifeless; he hearda lot of steps all about him; people spoke to him and asked himquestions. But his jaws were shut as if paralyzed; he couldn't speak aword. He felt the neck of a bottle being pushed between his lips, andthe liquid running down his throat. It was something strong andinvigorating, and he drank greedily. And then he suddenly shouted outloud, so that all the people stepped back horrified: "The station hasbeen attacked by Japs. "

Excited questions poured in from all sides. "Where from? What for?" Tomonly cried: "Save the two others; they're shut up in the station!" Morepeople collected round him. "Quick, quick!" he cried. "Run the trainback and try to save them!"

Tom was lifted into a car and stretched out on a soft end-seat. Some ofthe passengers stood round him with their revolvers: "Tell us where itis! Tell us where they are!" Slowly the train moved back, slowly thetelegraph poles slipped past the windows in the opposite direction. 

Now they were there, and Tom heard wild cries on the platform. Then adoor was pulled open and some one asked: "Where are the robbers?" Tomwas lifted out, for his right shin-bone had been smashed and he couldn'tstand. A stretcher was improvised, and he was carried out. Dozens ofpeople were standing round the station. The wagon was gone, and so werethe horses. Where to? The wide, deserted prairie gave no answer. A greatmany footprints in the sand showed at least that Tom had spoken thetruth. He pointed out the holes made in the shutters by the bandits, andtold the whole story a dozen times, until at last he fainted away again. When he came to half an hour later it all seemed like a horribledream--like a scene from a robber's tale. He found himself in acomfortable Pullman car on the way to Umatilla, where he had to tell hisstory all over again, in order that the fairly hopeless pursuit of thehighwaymen might be begun from there. 

_Chapter IV_

ECHOES IN NEW YORK

 WALLA WALLA, May 7. 

 "This morning, at ten o'clock, the station Swallowtown, on the Oregon line, was surprised by bandits. They captured the station in order to hold up the express train to Umatilla. The plot was frustrated by the decisive action of the station official, who jumped on the passing train and warned the passengers. Unfortunately, the robbers succeeded in escaping, but the Umatilla police have started in pursuit. The majority of the bandits are said to have been Japanese. "

In these words the attack on Swallowtown was wired to New York, and whenJohn Halifax went to the office of the _New York Daily Telegraph_ atmidnight, to work up the telegrams which had come in during Sunday forthe morning paper, his chief drew his attention in particular to theremark at the end of the message, and asked him to make some referencein his article to the dangers of the Japanese immigration, which seemedto be going on unhindered over the Mexican and Canadian frontiers. JohnHalifax would have preferred to comment editorially on the necessity ofnight rest for newspaper men, but settled down in smothered wrath towrite up the highwaymen who had committed the double crime ofdesecrating the Sabbath and robbing the train. 

But scarcely had he begun his article under the large headlines"Japanese Bandits--A Danger no longer Confined to the Frontier, butStalking about in the Heart of the Country, "--he was just on the pointof setting off Tom's brave deed against the rascality of the bandits, when another package of telegrams was laid on the table. He was going topush them irritably aside when his glance fell on the top telegram, which began with the words, "This morning at ten o'clock the station atConnell, Wash. , was attacked by robbers, who----"

"Hm!" said John Halifax, "there seems to be some connection here, forthey probably meant to hold up the express at Connell, too. " He turnedover a few more telegrams; the next message began: "This morning ateleven o'clock--" and the two following ones: "This morning at twelveo'clock--" They all reported the holding up of trains, which had inalmost every instance been successful. John Halifax got up, and with thebundle of telegrams went over to the map hanging on the wall and markedwith a pencil the places where the various attacks had taken place. Theresult was an irregular line through the State of Washington runningfrom north to south, along which the train robbers, apparently workingin unison, had begun their operations at the same time. Nowhere had itbeen possible to capture them. 

John Halifax threw his article into the waste basket and began againwith the headlines, "A Gang of Train-Robbers at Work in Washington, " andthen gave a list of the places where the gang had held up the trains. Hewrote a spirited article, which closed with a warning to the police inWashington and Oregon to put an end to this state of affairs as soon aspossible, and if necessary to call upon the militia for aid in catchingthe bandits. While Halifax was writing, the news was communicated fromthe electric bulletin-board to the people hurrying through the streetsat that late hour. 

John Halifax read the whole story through once more with considerablesatisfaction, and was pleased to think that the _New York DailyTelegraph_ would treat its readers Monday morning to a thoroughlysensational bit of news. When he had finished, it struck him that allthese attacks had been directed against trains running from west toeast, and that the train held up at Swallowtown was the only one goingin the opposite direction. He intended in conclusion to add a suggestiveremark about this fact, but it slipped out of his mind somehow, and, yawning loudly, he threw his article as it was into the box near hiswriting table, touched a button, and saw the result of his laborsswallowed noiselessly by a small lift. Then the author yawned again, and, going over to his chief, reported that he had finished, wished hima gruff "good morning, " and started on his way home. 

As he left the newspaper offices he observed the same sight that had methis eyes night after night for many years--a crowd of people standing onthe opposite side of the street, with their heads thrown back, staringup at the white board upon which, in enormous letters, appeared thestory of how Tom, with his bold leap, had saved the train. The lastsentence, explaining that the robbers had been recognized as Japanese, elicited vigorous curses against the "damned Japs. "

High up in the air the apparatus noiselessly and untiringly flashedforth one message after the other in big, black letters on the whiteground--telling of one train attack after another. But of that livingmachine in the far West, working with clocklike regularity and slowlyadding one link after the other to the chain, that machine which at thisvery moment had already separated three of the States by an impenetrablewall from the others and had thus blotted out three of the stars on theblue field of the Union flag--of that uncanny machine neither JohnHalifax nor the people loitering opposite the newspaper building inorder to take a last sensation home with them, had the remotest idea. Not till the next morning was the meaning of these first flaming signsto be made clear. 

 * * * * *

At ten o'clock the telephone bell rang noisily beside John Halifax'sbed. He seized the receiver and swore under his breath on learning thatimportant telegrams required his presence at the office. "There isn'tany reason why Harry Springley shouldn't go on with those oldtrain-robbers, " he grumbled; "I don't see what they want of me, but Isuppose the stupid fellow doesn't know what to do, as usual. "

An hour later, when he entered the editorial rooms of the _New YorkDaily Telegraph_, he found his colleagues in a great state ofexcitement. Judging by the loud talk going on in the conference room, heconcluded at once that something out of the common must have happened. The editor-in-chief quickly explained to him that an hour ago the news, already disseminated through an "extra, " had arrived, that not only wereall messages from the Pacific coast, especially from San Francisco, heldup, but the Canadian wire had furnished the news that a foreign strangesquadron had been observed on Sunday at Port Townsend, and that it hadcontinued its voyage through Puget Sound toward Seattle. In addition thenews came from Walla Walla that since Sunday noon all telegraphiccommunication between Seattle, Tacoma, and Portland had been broken off. Attempts to reach Seattle and Tacoma over the Canadian wire had alsoproved vain while, on the other hand, the report came from Ogden thatno trains from the west, from the direction of San Francisco, hadarrived since Sunday noon, and that the noon express had been attackedthis side of Reno by bandits, some of whom had been distinctlyrecognized as Japanese. 

John Halifax recalled the first message of the evening before, in whichthere was a mention of the Japanese. He quickly put the separate newsitems together, and, after having glanced hurriedly at the messages inthe extra, turned to the managing editor and in a low voice, whichsounded strange and hard even to himself, said: "I believe this meanswar!"

The latter slapped him on the back in his brusque fashion, crying: "JohnHalifax, we're not making war on Japan. "

"But they're making war on us, " answered Halifax. 

"Do you mean to imply that the Japanese are surprising us?" asked theeditor, staring at Halifax. 

"Exactly, and it makes no difference whether you believe it or not, " wasthe reply. 

"The Japanese fleet is lying off the Pacific coast, there's no doubtabout that, " remarked a reporter. 

"And, what's more, they're right in our country, " said Halifax, lookingup. 

"Who? The fleet?" inquired Harry Springley in a lame effort to be funny. 

"No, the enemy, " answered Halifax coldly; "the so-called bandits, " headded sarcastically. 

"But if you really mean it, " began the editor again, "then it must be agigantic plot. If you think that the bandits--the Japanese----" he said, correcting himself. 

"The Japanese outposts, " interposed Halifax. 

"Well, yes, the Japanese outposts, if you wish; if they have succeededin destroying all railway connections with the West, then the enemy isno longer off our coast, but----"

A stenographer now rushed into the room with a new message. The editorglanced over it and then handed it to Halifax, who took the paper inboth hands, and, while all listened attentively, read aloud thefollowing telegram from Denver:

"According to uncertain dispatches, Sunday's attacks on trains were notmade by gangs of robbers, but by detachments of Japanese troops, whohave suddenly and in the most incomprehensible manner sprung up all overthe country. Not only have single stations on the Union Pacific linebeen seized, but whole towns have been occupied by hostile regiments, the inhabitants having been taken so completely by surprise, that noresistance could be offered. The rumor of a battle between the Japaneseships and the coast defences at San Francisco has gained considerablecurrency. The concerted attacks on the various trans-continental lineshave cut off the western States entirely from telegraphic communicationand in addition interrupted all railway traffic. "

The telegram shook in John Halifax's hands; he ran his fingers throughhis hair and looked at the editor, who could only repeat the wordsspoken by Halifax a few minutes before: "Gentlemen, I fear this meanswar. "

Halifax collected the telegrams and went silently into his room, wherehe dropped into the chair before his desk, and sat staring in front ofhim with his head, full of confused thoughts, resting on his hands. "This means war, " he repeated softly. Mechanically he took up his penwith the intention of putting his thoughts on paper, but not a line, nota word could he produce under the stress of these whirling sensations. Unable to construct a single sentence, he drew circles and meaninglessfigures on the white paper, scribbled insignificant words, only to crossthem out immediately afterwards, and repeated again and again: "Thismeans war. "

Outside in the halls people hurried past; some one seized the door-knob, so he got up and locked himself in. Then he sat down again. The fresh, mild air blew in through the wide open windows, and the dull roar of theimmense crowds in the street, now swelling and now retreating, floatedup to him. His thoughts flew to the far West, and everywhere he couldsee the eager, industrious Asiatics pouring like a yellow flood over hiscountry. He saw Togo's gray ships, with the sun-banner of Nippon, ploughing the waves of the Pacific; he saw the tremendous many-huedpicture of a great international struggle; he saw regiments rush uponeach other and clash on the vast prairies; he saw bayonets flashing inthe sun; and he saw glittering troops of cavalry galloping over thebleak plains. High up in the air, over the two great opposing hosts, hesaw the white smoke of bursting shells. He saw this gigantic drama of aracial war, which caused the very axis of the earth to quiver, unraveledbefore his eyes, and with ardent enthusiasm he seized his pen, at lastmaster of himself once more. 

Suddenly his mood of exaltation vanished; it seemed as though the sunhad been extinguished, and cold, dark shadows fell across the brilliantpicture of his imagination, subduing its colors with an ashy light. Hebegan slowly to realize that this did not only mean war, but that it washis war, his country's war--a bitter struggle for which they were butpoorly prepared. At this thought he shivered, and the man who hadweathered many a storm laid his head down on both arms and criedbitterly. The mental shock had been too great, and it was in vain thatthey knocked at and shook his door. It was some time before JohnHalifax recovered his self-possession. Then he lifted his head bravelyand proudly, and going to the door with a firm step, gave directions tothe staff with the calmness of a veteran general. 

_Chapter V_

FATHER AND SON

Mr. Horace Hanbury paced restlessly up and down his study, and presentlystopped before a huge map on the wall and carefully traced the longlines of the trans-continental railroads across the Rocky Mountains. "Will Harriman sell? No, he'll buy, of course he'll buy; he'd be anidiot if he didn't. Of course he'll buy, and Gould and Stillman willbuy, too. Well, there'll be a fine tussle in Wall Street to-day. " Thushe soliloquized, puffing thoughtfully at his short pipe. Then he pickedup the heap of narrow tape on his desk containing the latest news fromthe West, and read the reports once more as the paper slipped throughhis fingers. 

"This fiendish plot of the yellow curs seems to be a pretty clever one, "he murmured; "they've simply cut off all railway connections. I can'thelp admiring the fellows--they've learned a lot since 1904. " He threwhimself into his comfortable Morris chair, and after having carefullystudied the Stock Exchange quotations of Saturday, went once more to themap on the wall, and marked several spots with a blue pencil; these heconnected by means of a long line which cut off the Pacific States ofWashington, Oregon, and California, and large districts of Nevada andArizona from all communication with points to the East. He then lookedat his watch and pressed one of the electric buttons on his desk. 

The door opened noiselessly, and an East Indian, dressed in the brightcostume of his native country, entered, and, crossing his arms, made adeep bow. "When Mr. Gerald Hanbury returns, tell him I want to see himimmediately. " The Indian disappeared, and Mr. Hanbury sat down on hisdesk, folded his hands under his knees, and swung his feet to and fro, puffing out the smoke of his pipe from between his teeth. "If only theboy won't spoil everything with his ridiculous altruistic ideas-- Ah, Gerald, there you are!"

"Did you send for me, father?"

"Sit down, my boy, " said the old gentleman, pointing to a chair; but hehimself remained sitting on the desk. 

The son was the very image of his father--the same slender, muscularfigure, the same piercing eyes, the same energetic mouth. "Well, father, what do you think of it?"

"Think of it? What do _you_ think of it?"

"Isn't it awful, this sudden attack on our country? Isn't it awful theway we have been taken by surprise? Think of it, three of our States inthe enemy's hands!"

"We'll soon get them back, don't worry about that, " said the oldgentleman calmly. 

"Have you read the orders for mobilization?"

"I haven't read them, and don't intend to. "

"Colonel Smiles told me just now that it will not be possible todispatch our troops to the West in less than three weeks. Fortunatelythere are about a dozen ships of the Pacific fleet off the west coast, and they will be able to attack the Japanese in the rear. "

"If there's still time, " supplemented his father. "Anyhow, we can leavethese matters to others. It's none of our business; they can attend toall that at Washington. War is purely and simply a question of financesso far as the United States is concerned, and it's as plain as day thatwe can hold out ten times longer than those yellow monkeys. That themoney will be forthcoming goes without saying; Congress will do all thatis needed in that direction, and the subscriptions for the war-loan willshow that we are fully prepared along that line. So let us drop thatsubject. The question is, what shall we do? What do you propose doingwith our factory during the war?"

"Go on working, of course, father. "

"Go on working--that is to say, produce surplus stock. If we go onworking we shall have goods on our hands which no one will buy, and becompelled to store them. Ironclads, cannon, powder, uniforms, guns, these are the things for which there is a demand now; whisky, too, willbe bought and bread will be baked, and the meat trust will make moneyhand over fist; but do you suppose the United States Government is goingto buy our pianos to play tunes to the soldiers?"

"But what about our workmen?" interposed Gerald. 

"Yes, our workmen, " said the old gentleman, jumping energetically offthe desk and standing before his son with his legs wide apart and hishands in his pockets: "Our workmen--that brings us to your favoritesubject, to which you devote your entire time and interest!" Hetransferred his pipe into the right-hand corner of his mouth andcontinued: "I intend to dismiss our workmen, my boy, and shut up shop;we couldn't earn a cent more even if we kept the machines going. Besides, our Government needs soldiers now, not workmen. Let your dearworkmen shoulder their guns and march to the West. When I was your age, and starting in with one hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket, no oneoffered me pensions for sickness and old age or insurance againstnon-employment or whatever this new-fangled nonsense is called. Weought to increase the energy of the people, instead of stuffing pillowsfor them. A man who has anything in him will make his way even in thesetimes. "

"Father!" The young man jumped up from his chair and faced his fatherwith all the idealistic enthusiasm of youth. 

"Keep your seat, my boy, subjects of this nature can be better discussedsitting. "

"No, father, I can't keep still. This question concerns four thousandworkmen and their families. "

"Three thousand of whom I shall dismiss at noon to-day, " interrupted theold gentleman decisively. 

"What! You don't mean to say you'll send three thousand workmen, quiet, industrious, faithful, reliable workmen, begging to-day? Why, father!That would be perfectly barbarous, that would be a crime againsthumanity! The people have stuck by us in days of prosperity, and nowwhen our sales may perhaps, " he emphasized the last word, "may perhapsbe diminished, you will stop the wheels and shut down the factory?"

"Look here, my son, I'm not a socialists' meeting. Such sentiments maysound very nice from the platform, but there's no need of your tryingyour speeches on me. The question at issue is, shall we suffer theconsequences or shall they, and I don't mind telling you that I preferthe latter. Do you suppose that I've worked hard all my life and wornmyself out for the express purpose of turning our factory into aworkingmen's home? No, my boy, I can't support you in your littlehobby. "

"But, father, capital and labor----"

"O, cut out those silly phrases, " interrupted the old gentlemanirritably, "Karl Marx and Henry George and all your other stand-bys maybe all right in your library, and help to decorate your bookshelves, butI prefer to settle our practical problems on the basis of my experienceand not of your books. As manager and proprietor of our plant I want totell you that when the whistle blows at noon to-day I shall notify ourworkingmen that in consequence of the totally unforeseen breaking out ofhostilities--here I shall insert a few words about the sacred duty ofpatriotism and of defending one's country--we are unwillingly forced todismiss three thousand of our workmen. We'll pay wages for, let's say, afortnight longer, but then good-by to the men; we'll shut up shop, andthe thousand men that are left can finish the standing orders and anynew ones that may come in. And if no new ones turn up, then theremaining workingmen will be dismissed at once. In the meantime I'llsubscribe one hundred thousand dollars to the war-loan, and then engagepassage on a Lloyd steamer, the most expensive cabins with everypossible luxury, for your mother, your two sisters, myself, and I hopefor you, too, and we'll be off to old Europe. Shall we make it theRiviera? We've been there before, and, besides, it's a little too hotthere now--let's say Norway or Switzerland. In my humble opinion we hadbetter watch developments from a distance, and, as I said, I earnestlyhope that my only son and heir will join our party, unless he shouldprefer to remain here and become a lieutenant in our glorious army anddraw his sword against the enemy? This is my final decision and the lastword I have to say on the subject, unless you think that some friend ofours in the financial world may have a better suggestion to offer. "

"I should never have thought, father, that you could be so hard-heartedand unfeeling, that you could be capable of ruining the lives ofthousands with one stroke of your pen. Your attitude towards therelations between employer and employee is absolutely incomprehensibleto me; the socialistic conscience----"

"Listen, my boy, " said the old gentleman, going over to his son andlaying his hand gently on his shoulder: "I've always allowed you anabsolutely free hand in your schemes, and you know we've always tried tomeet our employees more than half way in all their wishes, but now it'sa question of who's to suffer--we or they? In times of peace there maybe some excuse for these nice socialistic ideas: they give a man acertain standing and bring him into the public eye. There's a good man, they say; he understands the demands of the times. But there's a limitto everything. One man rides one hobby, and some one else another. Onekeeps a racing-stable, another sports a steam-yacht, and still anotherswears by polo or cricket, but these things must not be carried toexcess. The minute the owner of the racing-stable turns jockey, heceases to be a business man, and the same is true of the man who keeps aracing-yacht and spends all of his time at the start, and, after all issaid and done, it's our business we want to live on. You've selected theworkingman as your favorite sport, and that also has its limits. If wesquander our hard-earned millions on socialistic improvements now, we'llhave to begin over again in about two years' time. I doubt whether Ishould have sufficient genius left to discover a new piano-hammer, and Ientertain still more serious doubts as to your ability to invent apanacea that will render the whole world happy and make you richerinstead of poorer. _Ergo_, we'll shut up shop. In Hoboken we'll singYankee Doodle and as we pass the Statue of Liberty The Star SpangledBanner, in token of farewell, and then off we go! If things turn outbetter than we anticipate, we can come back, but this is my last wordfor the present: At noon the following notice will be posted at all theentrances and in all the rooms of our factory: 'Three thousand workmenare herewith dismissed; wages will be paid for a fortnight longer, whenthe factory will be closed indefinitely. ' By the way, are you going tothe Stock Exchange to-day?"

"I'm not in a mood for the Stock Exchange, father. If that is your lastword, then my last word is: I am your partner----"

"So much the worse, " said the father. 

"--and therefore have a right to dispose as I please of my interest inthe business. I therefore demand the immediate payment of so much of myinheritance as will be required to pay the wages of the workmen you'vedismissed for at least another year, with the exception of the singlemen who enter the army. "

"No, my boy, we won't do anything of the sort. Don't forget that I'mrunning this business. According to the contract made when you came ofage, you may demand a million dollars upon severing your connection withthe firm. This sum will be at your disposal at the bank to-day at noon, but not a cent more. What you do with it is a matter of completeindifference to me, but let me remind you that ordinarily when a manthrows money out of the window, he at least likes to hear it drop. "

"That surely cannot be your last word, father, otherwise we must part. "

"All right, my boy, let's part till dinner-time. I hope to find you in amore sensible frame of mind when the family assembles this evening. I'vetold you what will be done in the factory in the meantime, and as forour trip, we'll discuss that to-night with your mother. Now leave me, Imust get ready for Wall Street. "

The door closed noiselessly after Mr. Hanbury, Junior. "The scamp, " saidthe father to himself, "I can't help admiring him. Thirty years ago Ientertained just such ideas, but what has become of them!" He thought amoment, passed his hand over his forehead, then jumped up quickly andexclaimed: "Now to work!" He pressed a button on the desk, his secretaryentered, and the conversation that ensued dealt exclusively with comingevents in Wall Street. 

_Chapter VI_

A NIGHT IN NEW YORK

The _New York Daily Telegraph_ had already issued several regulareditions and a number of extras, without really having conveyed muchdefinite information, for the dispatches consisted for the most part ofrumors that arose like distant lightning on the western horizon, and itwas quite impossible to ascertain just where. A dark bank of clouds layover the Pacific States, completely shutting in the territory that hadbeen cut off from all communication, both by wire and rail. The naturalsupposition was, that the Japanese outposts were stationed at the pointsjust beyond which to the east telegraphic communication had not yet beeninterrupted, but the messages that were constantly pouring in fromplaces along this border-line revealed clearly that these outposts werecontinually pushing further eastwards. A serious battle didn't seem tohave occurred anywhere. The utter surprise caused by the suddenappearance of the Japanese troops, who seemed to spring up out of theground, had from the very beginning destroyed every chance of successfulresistance. 

Shortly after the first vague rumors of battles said to have been foughtat San Francisco, Port Townsend, and Seattle, had arisen, even thesesources of information ran dry. The question from where all the hostiletroops had come, remained as much of a riddle as ever. That was a matterof indifference after all; the chief consideration was to adoptmeasures of defense as speedily as possible. 

But the War Department worked slowly, and the news received fromheadquarters at Washington consisted only of the declaration that theregulars were going to be sent to the West immediately, that thePresident had already called out the reserves, and that Congress wouldmeet on May eleventh to discuss means for placing the militia on awar-footing and for creating an army of volunteers. The regular army!Three States with their regiments and their coast-defenses had to bededucted at the very start. What had become of them? Had they been ableto hold their own between the enemy and the coast? What had happened tothe Philippines and to Hawaii? Where was the fleet? None of thesequestions could be answered, simply because all telegraphic connectionwas cut off. The strength of the enemy was an absolutely unknownquantity, unless one cared to rely on the figures found in the ordinarymilitary statistics, which had probably been doctored by the Japanese. Was this the Japanese army at all? Was it an invading force? Could sucha force have pushed so far to the East in such a short space of timeafter landing? The press could find no satisfactory answer to thesequestions, and therefore contented itself with estimating the number ofAmerican soldiers available after subtracting the three coast States. The newspapers also indulged in rather awkward calculations as to whenand how the troops could best be dispatched to the invaded territory. But this optimism did not last long and it convinced nobody. 

Another serious question was, how would the masses behave upon thebreaking-out of this sudden danger, and what attitude would be assumedby the foreign elements of the population. It was most important tohave some inkling as to how the Germans, the Irish, the Scandinavians, the Italians and the various people of Slavonic nationality would actwhen called upon to defend their new country. It was of courseabsolutely certain that the two great political parties--the Republicansand the Democrats--would work together harmoniously under the stress ofa common danger. 

Francis Robertson, the well-known reporter of the _New York DailyTelegraph_--called the Flying Fish on account of his streamingcoat-tails--had been on the go all day. He had scarcely finisheddictating the shorthand notes made on his last tour of inspection, tothe typewriter, when he received orders--it was at seven o'clock in theevening--to make another trip through the streets and to visit theheadquarters of the various national and political societies. First hewent to a restaurant a few doors away, and in five minutes succeeded inmaking way with a steak that had apparently been manufactured out of thehide of a hippopotamus. Then he jumped into a taxicab and directed thechauffeur at the corner of Twenty-ninth Street to drive as quickly aspossible through the crowd down Broadway. But it was impossible for thechauffeur on account of the mob to move at more than a snail's pace, andthe cab finally came to a dead stop at Madison Square, which was packedwith excited people. Robertson left the cab and hurled himself boldlyinto the seething mass of humanity, but soon discovered that if hewished to make any progress at all he would have to allow himself to becarried forward by the slowly moving crowd. At the corner ofTwenty-second Street he managed to disentangle himself and hurriedthrough the block, only to find a new crowd on Fourth Avenue. 

He intended to cross Fourth Avenue and then push on to Third Avenue, inorder to reach Tammany Hall by that route, but he was doomed todisappointment, for the human stream simply carried him down FourthAvenue as far as Union Square, where it ceased moving for a time. Presently it got under way again, proceeding even more slowly thanbefore, and Robertson soon found himself in the middle of the square, being suddenly pushed against the basin of the fountain upon which heclimbed for the double purpose of regaining his breath and of lookingaround to see if it were possible to make his way through to TammanyHall. In vain! His eyes were greeted by an interminable sea of heads andhats, which did not offer the slightest chance of his being able to slipthrough. The trees, the statues and the fountain in the square appearedto be buried to a height of two yards in a black flood. He lookedlongingly across Sixteenth Street over to Third Avenue, but nowherecould he find an opening. 

He felt like a ship-wrecked mariner cast ashore on a desert island. Thesullen roar of the crowd echoed against the buildings enclosing thesquare like the dull boom of the surf. Over on Third Avenue the yellowlights of the elevated cars crossed the dark opening of Sixteenth Streetat regular intervals, and recalled to Robertson a piece of scenery at afair, where a lighted train ran continually between the mouths of twotunnels in the mountains. He pulled out his note-book and by the lightof the electric arc-lamp made a note of the observation. 

Then he jumped down from the ledge where he had taken refuge and oncemore joined the human stream. The latter, as if animated by a commonpurpose, was moving downtown, and if Robertson's neighbors were properlyposted, it was headed for the Chinese quarter. It was evident that theyintended to vent their fury for the present on these allies of theJapanese. This longing for revenge, this elementary hatred of the yellowrace kept the crowd in Union Square in motion and shoved everyonewithout discrimination towards Broadway and Fourth Avenue. The squareresembled a huge machine, which by means of some hidden automatic powerforced tens of thousands of unresisting bodies into the narrow channels. The crowd rolled on unceasingly. Here and there a hat flew off into theair, came down again, bobbed up and down once or twice, and thencontinued its journey somewhere else on the surface. It was fortunatethat those who had become insensible from the dreadful noise and thefoul, dusty air were unable to fall down; they were simply held up bythe close pressure of their neighbors and were carried along until a fewblocks farther on they regained consciousness. Nevertheless a few felland disappeared in the stream without leaving a trace behind them. Nopen could describe their terrible fate; they must have been relentlesslyground to pieces like stones on the rocky bed of a glacier. 

Above this roaring stream of human beings there swept unceasingly, inshort blasts like a tearing whirlwind, the hoarse cry of a people'spassion: "Down with the yellow race! Down with the Japanese! Threecheers for the Stars and Stripes!" The passionate cry of a crowdthirsting for revenge rose again and again, as if from a giant's lungs, until the cheers and yells of "down" turned into a wild, deafening, inarticulate howl which was echoed and re-echoed a thousand times by thetall buildings on both sides of the avenue. Now and then an electricstreet-car, to which clung hundreds of people, towered like a strandedvessel above the waving mass of heads and hats. 

Robertson decided to give up the idea of reaching Tammany Hall and todrift with the crowd to the Chinese quarter. At Astor Place a branch ofthe human stream carried him to the Bowery, where he found himself onthe edge of the crowd and was scraped roughly along the fronts ofseveral houses. He stood this for another block, but determined toescape at the next corner into a side street. Before he could reach it, however, he was crushed violently against the wall of a house and turnedround three or four times by the advancing throng; during this maneuverhis right coat-tail got caught on something and before he knew it, hehad left the coat-tail behind. At last he reached the corner and clungtightly to a railing with his right hand, but the next moment he flewlike a cork from a champagne-bottle into the quiet darkness of FifthStreet, bumping violently against several men who had been similarlyejected from the current and who pushed him roughly aside. 

Robertson was bursting with rage, for just before he had been propelledinto Fifth Street, he had caught a glimpse of the grinning face of BobTraddles, of the _Tribune_, his worst competitor, only a few feet away. The latter showed clearly how delighted he was at this involuntarydiscomfiture of his rival in the mad race for the latest sensationalnews. Robertson attempted for a while to get back into the current, butall of his efforts proved futile. Then he tried at least to find outwhat the people intended to do, and in spite of the contradictoryinformation he received, he was pretty well convinced that they werereally going to make an attack on the inhabitants of the Chinesequarter. Although hopelessly separated from Tammany Hall by thecountercurrent of the human stream, he at last succeeded in reaching theEighth Street station of the Second Avenue Elevated, where he took anuptown train to Forty-second Street. Then he walked over to Third Avenueand took a downtown train, which was crowded to suffocation, as far asGrand Street, for the purpose of reaching the Chinese quarter from theuptown side. The trip had consumed fully two hours. At the crossing ofGrand and Mott Streets he found the entrance to the latter barred by aline of policemen standing three deep. He showed his badge to a sergeantand received permission to pass. 

The dead silence of Mott Street seemed almost uncanny after the noisyroar of the mob, the echoes of which still rang in his ears. Thebasements of the houses were all barricaded with shutters or boards, thedoors were locked, and there was scarcely a light to be seen in thewindows of the upper stories. A person paying his first visit to thisbusy, bustling ant-hill of yore would, if he had not been reminded bythe peculiar penetrating smell of the yellow race of their proximity, scarcely have believed that he was really in the notorious Chinesequarter of New York. 

The policeman who acted as Robertson's guide told him that they hadknown all about the movements and intentions of the mob long before ithad reached the police headquarters, by way of the Bowery and ElmStreet, and begun to force its way from the Bowery through some of theside streets into the Chinese quarter. Fearing that the latter would beset on fire, the chief of police had given orders to protect it from theirresponsible mob by barricading the streets with all the availablemembers of the force. In this attempt, however, they had been onlypartially successful. It was out of the question for six hundred men tohold out against tens of thousands; the enormous pressure from the rearhad hurled the front rows like driftwood against the thin chain ofpolicemen, which, after a stubborn resistance, had simply been brokenthrough at several spots. 

A hand-to-hand fight had ensued and shots were soon fired on both sides, so that the police had to content themselves with an effort to check theworst excesses. Then, too, the spirit of patriotism was just as rampantin the breasts of the police as it was in the breasts of those who urgedon the mob. As it was impossible to catch hold of the treacherousinvaders themselves, their natural allies should at least not escapeunscathed. The Chinese were of course prepared for such an attack. Thehowling, raging mob found barricaded doors and windows wherever theywent, and even when they did succeed, after considerable labor, inbreaking these down, it was usually only to find that the birds hadflown, that the occupants had made their escape in time. Whereverresistance had been offered by the Chinese, the mob had gone beyond allbounds in its frenzy. 

"Several hundred Chinamen must have been killed, " said the policeman, "and it would be best for the papers to hush up what went on inside thehouses. " Robertson and his companion stopped near a lamp-post, and theformer hurriedly made some shorthand notes of all the information he hadreceived. 

"Look, " said the policeman, "Judge Lynch has done his work well, " and hepointed with his club to a lamp-post on the other side of the streetfrom which two dark bodies were hanging. "Simply hanged 'em, " he addedlaconically. 

As the policeman would not allow him to enter any of the houses because, as he said, it meant certain death, Robertson decided to go to thenearest telephone pay-station in order to 'phone his story to the paper. The policeman went with him as far as the police-station. By theuncertain light of the street-lamps they stumbled along the pavement, which was often almost entirely hidden by heaps of rubbish and regularmountains of refuse. They saw several more bodies suspended fromlamp-posts, and the blood on the pavement before many of the mutilatedhouses testified eloquently to the manner in which the mob had wreakedits vengeance on the sons of the Celestial Kingdom. Ambulance officerswere carrying away the wounded and dead on stretchers, and afterRobertson had stayed a little while at the police-station and receivedinformation as to the number of people killed thus far, he walked in thedirection of Broadway, having found the entrance to the Subway closed. 

At Broadway he again came upon a chain of police, and learned that thetroops had been called out and that a battalion was marching upBroadway. 

Robertson plunged once more into the seething human whirlpool, but madelittle progress. For about fifteen minutes he stood, unable to move, near a highly excited individual, who, with a bloody handkerchief tiedaround his head and with wild gesticulations was reciting hisexperiences during the storming of a Chinese house. This was his man. Amomentary lull in the roar around him gave him a chance of gettingcloser to him and screaming into his ear: "I'll give you two dollars ifyou'll step into the nearest hallway with me and tell me that story!"

The man stared at him in astonishment but when Robertson added, "It'sfor the _New York Daily Telegraph_, " he was posted at once. They madetheir way with considerable difficulty to the edge of the crowd andmanaged to squeeze into a wide doorway full of people, whose attention, however, was not directed to the doings on Broadway, but rather to ameeting that was being held in a large rear room. Robertson managed tofind an unoccupied chair in a neighboring room, which was packed to thedoor, and sitting astride it, proceeded to use the back of the chair asa rest for his note-book. The story turned out to be somewhatdisjointed, for every time a push from the crowd sent the man flyingagainst the hard wall, he uttered a long series of oaths. 

"For Heaven's sake, " said Robertson, "quit your swearing! Make a hole inthe wall behind you and hustle with your story!"

"This'll mean at least a column in the _Telegraph_, " mused Robertson asthe story neared its end. But he was already listening with one ear towhat was going on in the big room, whence the sharp, clear tones of aspeaker could be heard through the suffocating tobacco fumes. Over theheads of the attentive crowd hung a few gas-lamps, the globes of whichlooked like large oranges. Robertson gave his Mott Street hero thepromised two dollar bill and then made his way to the rear room. Standing in the doorway, he could clearly distinguish the words of thespeaker, who was apparently protesting in the name of some workmenagainst a large manufacturer who had at noon dismissed three thousand ofthem. 

The orator, who was standing on a table in the rear of the room, lookedlike a swaying shadow through the smoke, but his loud appeal completelyfilled the room, and the soul-stirring pictures he drew of the misery ofthe workmen, who had been turned out on the streets at the word of themillionaire manufacturer, caused his hearers' cheeks to burn withexcitement. 

"--and therefore, " concluded the speaker, "we will not submit to theabsolutely selfish action of Mr. Hanbury. As leader of our Union I askyou all to return to work at the factory to-morrow at the usual hour, and we will then assert our right to employment by simply continuing ourwork and ignoring our dismissal. Of course the simplest and mostconvenient thing for Mr. Hanbury is to shut down his plant and skip withhis millions to the other side. But we demand that the factory be keptrunning, and if our wages aren't paid, we'll find means for gettingthem. Our country cannot fight the enemy even with a thousandmillionaires. When the American people take the field to fight for themaintenance of American society and the American state, they have aright to demand that the families they are compelled to leave at homeshall at least be suitably cared for. Again I say: We'll keep Mr. Hanbury's factory open. "

The air shook with thunderous applause, and a firm determination lightedup hundreds of faces, wrinkled and scarred from work and worry. And whowould have dared oppose these men when animated by a single thought anda common purpose? Again and again enthusiastic shouts filled the room, and the speaker was assured that not a man present would fail to be onhand the next morning. 

Leaning against the door-post, Robertson made notes of this occurrencealso and then looked round in a vain endeavor to find a means of escapefrom the suffocating atmosphere. While doing so his glance fell on thespot where only a few moments before he had observed the swaying shadowof the speaker. The latter's place had been taken by another, who wasmaking a frantic but vain effort to secure quiet and attention. With hisarms waving in the air he looked through the murky atmosphere for allthe world like a quickly turning wind-mill. 

Gradually the applause ceased, while everybody in the room, Robertsonincluded, was startled by the announcement of the chairman that Mr. Hanbury was most anxious to address the assemblage. A moment ofastonished silence and then Bedlam broke loose. "What, Mr. Hanbury wantsto speak?" "Not the old one, the young one!" "He must be mad. What doeshe want here?" "Three cheers for Mr. Hanbury!" "Down with him! We don'twant him here, we can manage our own affairs!" "Let him speak!" "Threecheers for Mr. Hanbury!" "Be quiet, damn you, why don't you shut up?"These and other similarly emphatic shouts reached Robertson's ears. Hehunted for his last pencil in his vest-pocket, and when he looked upagain, he saw through the cloud of smoke a tall, refined person standingon the table. 

"We don't want to be discharged! Don't let our wives starve!" the voicesbegan again, and it was some time before it became possible for thespeaker to make himself heard. 

"Is that really Mr. Hanbury?" Robertson asked one of his neighbors. 

"Yes, the son. "

"It seems incredible! He's taking his life in his hands. "

Gerald Hanbury's first words were lost in the uproar, but gradually thecrowd began to listen. He spoke only a few sentences, and theseRobertson took down in shorthand:

"--The demand just made by your speaker, and supported by all present, that my father's factory should not be shut down in these turbulenttimes, was made by myself this very morning, the moment I heard the newsof the base attack on our country. I don't want any credit for havingpresented the matter to my father in most vigorous fashion, and I regretto say I have accomplished nothing thus far. But the same reasons whichyou have just heard from the lips of Mr. Bright have guided me. I, too, should consider it a crime against the free American people, if wemanufacturers were to desert them in this hour of national danger. I amnot going to make a long speech; I have come here simply to tell youthat I shall go straight to my father from here and offer him the wholeof my fortune from which to pay you your wages so long as the war lasts, and not only those employed in the factory, but also the families ofthose who may enter the army to defend their homes and their country. "

Such an outburst of passionate enthusiasm, such wild expressions of joyas greeted this speech Robertson had never witnessed. The crowd screamedand yelled itself hoarse, hats were thrown into the air, and pandemoniumreigned supreme. Mr. Hanbury was seized by dozens of strong arms as hejumped down from the table and was carried through the room over theheads of the crowd. After he had made the rounds of the hall severaltimes and shaken hundreds of rough hands, the group of workmensurrounding the foreman on whose shoulders young Hanbury was enthronedmarched to the entrance, while the whole assembly joined in a marchingsong. 

By pure chance Robertson found himself near this group as they came to ahalt before the door, just in time to save Mr. Hanbury from having hisskull smashed against the top. So they let him slide down to the ground, and then the whole crowd made a rush for the Broadway entrance. Such ajam ensued here, that another meeting was held on the spot, which, however, consisted chiefly in cheers for Mr. Hanbury. 

Suddenly some one shouted: "We'll go with Mr. Hanbury to his father!"Inch by inch they moved towards Broadway, whence a terrific roar andwild shouts greeted the ears of the closely packed mass at the entrance. 

Robertson was standing close to Mr. Hanbury, whose face shone with happyexcitement. Just as they reached the entrance to the street, the crowdoutside suddenly started to run north in mad haste. 

"This is the proudest day of my life as an American citizen!" saidRobertson to Hanbury. Hardly had he finished the sentence, when acrashing sound like thunder rent the air and resounded down the wholelength of Broadway, as if the latter were a cañon surrounded byprecipitous walls of rock. 

"They're firing on the people, " burst from thousands of lips in thewildest indignation. 

Some one shouted: "Pull out your revolvers!" and in response red sparksflashed here and there in the crowd and the rattle of shots greeted thetroops marching up Broadway. The mob seemed to be made up largely ofRussians. 

Just in front of Robertson and Gerald Hanbury a young woman, who hadbeen wounded by a stray shot, lay on the pavement screaming with painand tossing her arms wildly about. 

"Three cheers for Mr. Hanbury!" came the loud cry once more from theentrance. At this instant a big workman, apparently drunk, and dressedonly in shirt and trousers, stepped in front of the door, and swingingthe spoke of a large wheel in his right hand shouted: "Where's Mr. Hanbury?" And some one shouted as in reply: "The blackguard has turnedthree thousand workmen out on the streets to-day so that he can gotraveling with his millions. " The workman yelled once more: "Where isMr. Hanbury?" Gerald moved forward a step and, looking the questionerstraight in the eye, said: "I'm Mr. Hanbury, what do you want?"

The workman glared at him with wild, bloodshot eyes and cried in afierce rage: "That's what I want, " and quick as a flash the heavy spokedescended on Hanbury's head. The terrific blow felled Gerald to theground, and he sank without uttering a sound beside the body of thewounded woman lying at his feet. 

Robertson flew at the drunken brute as he prepared for a second blow, but some of the other laborers had already torn his weapon out of hishand, and, as if in answer to this base murder, the troops discharged afresh volley only a hundred yards away, which was again received withshots from dozens of revolvers. 

Robertson felt a stinging pain in his left arm and, in a sudden accessof weakness, he leaned for support against the doorway. His senses lefthim for a moment, and when he came to, he saw a company of soldierspassing the spot where he stood. The next instant the butt-end of amusket pushed him backwards into the doorway. 

"This is madness!" he cried. "You're firing on the people. "

"Because the people are murdering and plundering downtown!" answered anofficer. Gradually the tumult calmed down. Another company passed byRobertson, who had sat down on the step before the door. He examined hisarm and found that he was uninjured; a stone splinter must have struckhis left elbow, for the violent pain soon disappeared. The mob wasquickly lost to view up Broadway, while some ambulance surgeons appearedon the other side of the street. Robertson called over to them and toldthem Mr. Hanbury had been murdered, whereupon they crossed the street atonce. 

Gerald Hanbury's corpse was lifted on a stretcher. 

"How terrible, they've broken in his skull, " said one of the surgeons, and taking a gray shawl from the shoulders of the charwoman who waswrithing with agony, he threw it over the upper part of Gerald's body. 

"Where shall we take it?" asked one of the surgeons. 

"To Mr. Hanbury's house, two blocks north, " directed Robertson, andgoing up to one of the surgeons he added: "I'll take your place at thestretcher, for you can make yourself useful elsewhere. "

"How about her?" asked one of the ambulance attendants, pointing to thewoman on the ground. 

"I'm afraid we can't do much for her, " replied one of the surgeons, "sheseems to be near death's door. "

Then the men lifted their burden and slowly the sad procession walked upBroadway, which was now almost deserted. 

A few shots could still be heard from the direction of Union Square; tothe left the sky was fiery red while clouds of smoke traveled over thehigh buildings on Broadway, shutting out the light of the stars. Robertson looked back. The street lay dark and still. Suddenly far awayin the middle of the street two glaring white lights appeared and abovethem flared and waved the smoky flames of the petroleum torches, whilegongs and sirens announced the approach of the fire-engines. And nowthey thundered past, the glaring lights from the acetylene lamps infront of the fire-engines lighting up the whole pavement. Streams oflight and rushing black shadows played up and down the walls of thebuildings. Next came the rattling hook and ladder wagons and thehosecarts, the light from the torches dancing in red and yellow stripeson the helmets of the firemen. And then another puffing, snortingengine, with hundreds of sparks and thick smoke pouring out of its widefunnel, hiding the vehicle behind it in dark clouds. They're here onemoment, and gone the next, only to make way for another hook and ladder, which sways and rattles past. The clanging of the gongs and the yells ofthe sirens grow fainter and fainter, and finally, through the clouds ofsparks and smoke the whole weird cavalcade was seen to disappear into aside-street. Little bits of smoldering wood and pieces of red-hot coalremained lying on the street and burned with quivering, quick littleflames. 

As they walked on the man next to Robertson told him why the troops hadbeen compelled to interfere. The excited mob which had tasted blood, asit were, in the Chinese quarter and become more and more frantic, hadcontinued plundering in some of the downtown streets without anydiscrimination--simply yielding to an uncontrollable desire fordestruction. As a result a regular battle ensued between this mob, whichconsisted chiefly of Russian and Italian rabble, on one hand, and Irishworkingmen who were defending their homes, on the other. The Russiancontingent seemed to consist largely of the riff-raff which had foundsuch a ready refuge in New York during the Russian Revolution, and someof these undesirable citizens now had recourse to dynamite. Some of thebombs caused great loss of life among the Irish people living in thatpart of town, and several policemen had also been killed in theperformance of their duty. It was at this point that the authoritiesdeemed it advisable to call out the troops, with whose arrival affairsimmediately began to take on a different turn. 

The soldiers did not hesitate to use their bayonets against the rabble. At several corners they encountered barricades, but they hesitatedresorting to their firearms until several bombs were thrown among thetroops while they were storming a barricade defended by RussianTerrorists. That was the last straw. With several volleys the soldiersdrove the gang of foreign looters up Broadway, where a volley dischargednear the spot where Gerald Hanbury had been murdered, dispersed the lastcompact mass of plunderers. 

In the meantime the men had reached Mr. Hanbury's house and Robertsonrang the bell. Not until they had rung loudly several times did thebutler appear, and then only to announce gruffly that there was no oneat home. A policeman ordered him to open the door at once, so that Mr. Hanbury's dead body might be brought in. 

"But Mr. Hanbury is at home, you can't possibly have his dead bodythere!"

"Tell Mr. Hanbury right away!" interrupted the policeman. "It's youngMr. Hanbury, and he's been murdered. Open the door, do you hear!"

Silently the heavy bronze door turned on its hinges and, with thepoliceman in the lead, the men were ushered into the high marbleentrance-hall of the Hanbury palace. They carried the stretcher on whichlay the murdered body of the son of the house up the broad staircase, the thick carpets deadening the sound of their steps. At the top of thestairs they lowered their burden and waited in silence. Doors opened andshut in the distance; from one of them a bright stream of light fell onthe shining onyx pillars and on the gilt frames of the paintings, whichin the light from strange swinging lamps looked like huge black patches. Then the light from the door disappeared, a bell rang somewhere andfigures hurried to and fro. A fantastically dressed East Indian nextappeared and made signs to the ambulance-men to carry the stretcher intoa room which, in its fabulous, Oriental splendor represented one of themost beautiful of the Indian mosques. The men carried their burdencarefully into the middle of the room and then set it down and looked atone another in embarrassment. The policeman assumed a dignified postureand cleared his throat. Suddenly the heavy gold-embroidered curtainbefore one of the doors was pushed aside by a brown hand and fell backin heavy folds; an old white-haired man stood for a moment in thedoorway and then advanced towards the officer with a firm step. 

The latter cleared his throat again and then began in a dry andbusiness-like tone to give his report of Gerald Hanbury's murder, ending with the words "--and these gentlemen picked him up and broughthim here. "

"I thank you, gentlemen, " said the old man, and taking out hispocket-book he handed each of them, including Robertson, a twenty-dollarbill. Then he sat down wearily on the edge of the stretcher and restedhis head in his hands. He seemed to be oblivious of his surroundings. The men stood round for a few moments not knowing what to do, untilfinally the policeman led the ambulance-men and Robertson to the door, which opened automatically. 

As the Indian closed the door behind them the officer said to Robertson:"This is like the last act in a Third Avenue melodrama. "

"Life has a liking for such plays, " answered Robertson. As they left theHanbury mansion the clock of Grace Church struck midnight. Robertsonglanced down Broadway once more and saw that the long thoroughfare wasalmost deserted; only here and there the bluish-white light from theelectric lamps shone on the bayonets of the sentinels patrolling up anddown at long intervals. Then he repaired to the _Daily Telegraph_offices to dictate his notes, so that the huge rolls of printed papermight announce to the world to-morrow that the first victims of theterrible war had fallen on the streets of New York. 

The factory of Horace Hanbury & Son was not shut down. 

_Chapter VII_

THE RED SUN OVER THE GOLDEN GATE

Too-oo-ot, bellowed the whistle of a big steamer that was proceedinggingerly through the fog which enveloped the broad Bay of San Franciscoearly on the morning of May seventh. The soft, white mist crept throughthe Golden Gate among the masts and funnels of the ships made fast tothe docks, enveloped the yellow flame of the lanterns on the foremast ina misty veil, descended from the rigging again, and threatened toextinguish the long series of lights along the endless row of docks. Theglistening bands of light on the Oakland shore tried their best topierce the fog, but became fainter and fainter in the damp, penetrating, constantly moving masses of mist. Even the bright eye on Angel Islandwas shut out at last. Too-oo-ot, again sounded the sullen cry of warningfrom the steamer in the Golden Gate--Too-oo-ot. And then from Tiburonopposite the shrill whistle of the ferry-boat was heard announcing itsdeparture to the passengers on the early train from San Rafael. Theflickering misty atmosphere seemed like a boundless aquarium, anaquarium in which gigantic prehistoric, fabulous creatures stretchedtheir limbs and glared at one another with fiery eyes. Trembling beamsof light hovered between the dancing lights on and between the ships, rising and falling like transparent bars when the shivering sentries ondeck moved their lanterns, and threw into relief now some dripping bitsof rigging, and again the black outline of a deck-house as the sailorhurried below for a drink to refresh his torpid spirits. 

The cold wind blew the damp fog into Market Street, forced it uphill andthen let it roll down again, filling every street with its graysubstance. 

Too-oo-ot, came the whistle from the Golden Gate again and further offstill another whistle could be heard. Over in Tiburon the ferry-boat hadcalmed down, as it found itself unable to budge in the fog. One afterthe other, the tower-clocks struck half-past four, the strokes soundingloud and unnatural in the fog. From Telegraph Hill at the northern endof San Francisco a splendid view could be obtained of this undulatingsea of mist. A few of the isolated houses situated in the higher partsof the town looked like islands floating on the ever-moving glossy graybillows, while the top stories of several sky-scrapers rose up here andthere like solemn black cliffs. A faint light in the east heralded theapproach of day. Too-oo-ot, sounded the whistle of the approachingsteamer once again; then its voice broke and died out in a discordantsob, which was drowned in the nervous gang, gang, gang of the ship'sbell. The steamer had been obliged to anchor on account of the fog. Too-oo-ot, came from the other steamer further out. Then life in the baycame to a stand-still: nothing could be done till the sun rose andbrought warmth in its train. 

"This damned fog, " said Tom Hallock, a telegraph boy, to his colleague, Johnny Kirkby, as he jumped off his bicycle in front of the Post Office, "this damned fog is enough to make one choke. "

Johnny muttered some unintelligible words, for he was still half asleep;the effect of last night's eighteen drinks had not yet quite worn off. "You can't see the nearest lamp-post, " he blurted out after a while. "Inearly ran into a company of infantry just now that suddenly popped upin front of me out of the fog. What's going on this morning, anyhow?What are they marching out to Golden Gate for?"

"Oh, you jay, " said Tom, "naval maneuvers, of course! Are you blind?Haven't you read the _Evening Standard_? There are to be naval maneuversthis morning, and Admiral Perry is going to attack San Francisco. "

"This war-game is a crazy scheme, " grumbled Johnny. They both left theirbicycles downstairs in a room in the Post Office and then went up totheir quarters on the first story. 

"Naval maneuvers?" began Johnny again. "I really don't know anythingabout them. It was in last night's _Evening Standard_. It said that theorders had been changed quite unexpectedly, and that the maneuvers wouldtake place outside the bay to-day. "

"It looks as though we'd have a long wait before daylight appears, " saidTom impatiently, pointing out of the windows, while Johnny tackled thedilapidated tea-kettle in an effort to make himself an early morningdrink. Tom stamped up and down the room to warm himself, remarking:"Thank the Lord it's Sunday and there isn't much going on, otherwisewe'd all get sick chasing around with telegrams in this beastly fog. "

Boom! The roar of a distant cannon suddenly made the windows rattle;boom again! It sounded as though it came from the Fort. "There you are, "said Tom, "there's your naval maneuvers. Perry won't stand any nonsense. He's not afraid of the fog; in fact, it gives him a fine chance for anattack. "

Johnny didn't answer, for he had meanwhile dozed off. As soon as he hadwith considerable trouble got his tea-kettle into working order, he hadfallen fast asleep, and now began to snore with his nose pressed flaton the table, as if he meant to saw it through before his tea was ready. 

Tom shrugged his shoulders in disgust, and said: "Those blamed drinks. "

Another boom! from outside. The door opened behind Tom and a telegraphofficial looked in. "One, two, " he counted, "two are there, " and then heclosed the door again. 

Downstairs in the street a motor-cycle hurried past puffing andrattling, the rider's figure looking like a gigantic elusive shadowthrough the fog. 

Tom started to walk up and down again as the clock in the hall struck aquarter to five. A bell rung in the next room. Steps were heard comingup the stairs and a colleague of the other two came in, swearing at thefog. He passed Johnny, poured out some of the latter's tea for himselfand drank it, meanwhile looking at the sleeper inquiringly. 

"It's the drinks, " said Tom, grinning. 

"H'm, " growled the other. Another motor-cycle went by on the streetbelow, and then another. 

Later on a group of ten motor-cycles rode past. 

"Did you see that, Harry?" asked Tom, who was standing at the window. 

"What?"

"Didn't they have guns?"

"They probably have something to do with the naval maneuvers. "

At this moment another group of ten men passed, and there was no doubtof the fact that they carried guns. 

"I guess it is the naval maneuvers, " asserted Tom. 

Boom! came the sound of another shot. 

"That's queer, " said Tom. "What do you suppose it is?" He opened thewindow and listened. "Do you hear it?" he asked Harry, who admittedthat he could also hear a rattling, scraping noise as though drums werebeing beaten far away or as though a handful of peas had been thrownagainst a pane of glass. 

Tom leaned further out of the window in time to see a bicycle rider stopin front of the Post Office, take a big sheet of paper, moisten it witha large brush, and stick it on the wall near the entrance; then he rodeoff. Tom shut the window, for the fog seemed to be getting thicker andthicker, and now, in the pale light of approaching dawn, it was almostimpossible to recognize the yellow spots of light on the lamp-posts. Bythis time Johnny had awakened and they all had some tea together. 

They were interrupted by a fourth messenger boy, who entered the room atthis moment and exclaimed:

"That's a great scheme of Admiral Perry's, and the fog seems to havehelped him a lot. What do you think? He has surprised San Francisco. There's a notice posted downstairs stating that the Japanese have takenpossession of San Francisco and that the Japanese military governor ofSan Francisco asks the citizens to remain quiet or the city will bebombarded from the harbor by the Japanese fleet. "

"Perry is a great fellow, there's no use trying to fool with him, " saidTom. "San Francisco surprised by the Japs--that's a mighty fine scheme. "

Outside some one was tearing up the stairs two at a time, doors bangednoisily, and several bells rang. "Somebody's in a h--- of a hurry, " saidHarry; "we'll have something to do in a minute. "

A telegraph operator hurriedly opened the door and with great beads ofperspiration rolling down his face, shouted at the top of his lungs:"Boys, the Japanese have surprised San Francisco. "

A roar of laughter greeted this piece of information. 

"Stung!" cried Harry. "Stung! Perry is the Jap. "

"Perry?" inquired the newcomer, staring at the other four. "Who'sPerry?"

"Don't you know, Mr. Allen, that there are naval maneuvers going onto-day and that Admiral Perry is to surprise San Francisco with thefleet?"

"But there are notices at all the street-corners saying that theJapanese governor of San Francisco begs the citizens----"

"Yes, that's where the joke comes in. Perry is going to attack the townas a Jap--that's his scheme. "

"You haven't had enough sleep, " cried Tom. "If all the Japs looked likeAdmiral Perry, then----"

Tom broke off short and dropped his tea-cup on the floor, staringblankly at the door as if he saw a ghost. Just behind Mr. Allen stood aJap, with a friendly grin on his face, but a Jap all the same, mostcertainly and without the slightest doubt a Jap. He looked around thebare office and said in fluent English: "I must ask you to remain inthis room for the present. " With these words he raised his revolver andkept a sharp eye on the five occupants. 

Johnny jumped up and felt instinctively for the revolver in his hippocket, but in a flash the muzzle of the Jap's gun was pointed straightat him and mechanically he obeyed the order "Hands up!"

"Hand that thing over here, " said the Jap; "you might take it into yourhead to use it, " and he took Johnny's revolver and put it in his pocket. Several Japanese soldiers passed by outside. Mr. Allen sank down on achair; not one of them could make head or tail of the situation. 

They were kept waiting for half an hour. Down below in the street, wherethe wagons were beginning to rattle over the pavement, could be heardthe steady march of bodies of soldiers, frequently interrupted by thenoise of motor-cycles. There could no longer be any doubt--the affairwas getting serious. 

The lamps were extinguished and the gray light of dawn filled the roomsas the head Postmaster made his rounds, guarded by a Japanese officer. 

The official was perspiring profusely from sheer nervousness. He beggedthe employees to keep calm, and assured them that it was no joke, butthat San Francisco was really in the hands of the Japanese. It was theduty of the employees and the citizens, he said, to refrain from allresistance, so that a worse misfortune--a bombardment, he added in awhisper--might not befall the city. 

The men were obliged to give up any weapons they had in theirpossession, and these were collected by the Japanese. At seven o'clock, when these details had been attended to, and the few telegraphinstruments which were kept in commission were being used by Japaneseoperators--all the others had been rendered useless by the removal ofsome parts of the mechanism--one of the regular operators asked to beallowed to speak to the Postmaster. Permission having been granted bythe Japanese guard, he told his chief, in a low voice, that the momentthe Japanese soldiers had taken possession of the telegraph room he hadhurriedly dispatched a message to Sacramento, telling them that SanFrancisco had been surprised by the Japanese fleet and that the wholecity was occupied by Japanese troops. 

"I thank you in the name of our poor country, " said the Postmaster, shaking the operator's hand, "I thank you with all my heart; you havedone a brave deed. "

Just at the time when the operator sent off his telegram to Sacramento, a little, yellow, narrow-eyed fellow, lying in a ditch many milesinland, far to the east of San Francisco, connected his Morse apparatuswith the San Francisco-Sacramento telegraph-wire, and intercepted thefollowing message: "Chief of Police, Sacramento. --San Francisco attackedby Japanese fleet this morning; whole city in hands of Japanese army. Resistance impossible, as attack took place in thick fog before dawn. Help imperative. "

The little yellow man smiled contentedly, tore off the strip, and handedit to the officer standing near him. The latter drew a deep breath andsaid: "Thank Heaven, that's settled. "

At the time of the occupation of the Post Office building, the Japaneseoutposts had already spun their fine, almost invisible silver threadsaround all the telegraph-wires far inland and thus cut off alltelegraphic communication with the east. The telegram just quotedtherefore served only to tell the Japanese outposts of the overwhelmingsuccess of the Japanese arms at the Golden Gate. 

But how had all this been accomplished? The enemy could not possiblyhave depended on the fog from the outset. Nevertheless an unusualbarometrical depression had brought in its train several days ofdisagreeable, stormy weather. The Japanese had been fully prepared for abattle with the San Francisco forts and with the few warships stationedin the harbor. The fact that they found such a strong ally in the fogwas beyond all their hopes and strategical calculations. 

When the sun sank in the waves of the Pacific on the sixth of May, everyJapanese had his orders for the next few hours, and the five thousandmen whose part it was to attend to the work to be accomplished in SanFrancisco on the morning of the seventh, disappeared silently into thesubterranean caves and cellars of the Chinese quarter, to fetch theirweapons and be ready for action soon after midnight. 

_Chapter VIII_

IN THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH

It was thought that the earthquake had done away forever with theunderground labyrinth of the Chinese quarter--those thousands of pensinhabited by creatures that shunned the light of day, those mole-holeswhich served as headquarters for a subterranean agitation, themysterious methods of which have never been revealed to the eye of thewhite man. When had the old Chinatown been laid out; when had thosehidden warehouses, those opium dens and hiding-places of the Mongolianproletariat been erected, those dens in which all manner of criminalscelebrated their indescribable orgies and which silently hid all theseevil-doers from the far-reaching arm of the police? When had the newChinatown sprung up? When had the new quarter been provided with anendless network of subterranean passages, so that soon all was just asit had been before the earthquake? No one had paid any attention tothese things. The Mongolian secret societies never paused for a momentin their invisible conspiracy against the ruling whites, and succeededin creating a new underground world, over which the street trafficrolled on obliviously. 

A narrow cellar entrance and greasy, slippery steps led into Hung Wapu'sstore, behind which there was a chop-house, which in turn led into anopium-den. The rooms behind the latter, from which daylight was foreverexcluded, were reserved for still worse things. No policeman would everhave succeeded in raiding these dens of iniquity; he would have foundnothing but empty rooms or bunks filled with snoring Chinese; theabominable stench would soon have driven him out again, but if, by anychance, he had attempted to penetrate further and to explore the wallsfor the purpose of discovering hidden openings, the only result wouldhave been a story in the next day's papers about a "missing" policeman. 

Hung Wapu, whose plump face, with its enormous spectacles, resembledthat of an old fat boarding-house keeper, was standing at the entranceto his cellar-shop late on the evening of May sixth. A disgusting odorand the murmur of many voices reached the street from the cellar. Thepoliceman had just made his rounds, and Hung Wapu looked after him witha cunning grin as his heavy steps died away in the distance. 

The coast was clear for two hours. Hung Wapu went in and locked thedoor, above which a green paper-lantern swung gently to and fro in thesoft night wind. Hung Wapu passed through the store to the chop-house, where several dozen Chinese were squatting on the ground dining onunmentionable Chinese delicacies, which consisted of anything andeverything soft enough to be chewed. No one watching the vacantexpression of these people would have dreamed for a moment that anythingwas wrong; no one observing these chattering, shouting sons of theCelestial Kingdom would have guessed that anything out of the ordinarywas on foot. They kept on eating, and did not even look up when severalJaps stole, one by one, through their midst and disappeared through adoor at the back. The Japs apparently attracted no attention whatsoever, but a keen observer would have noticed that Hung Wapu placed a littlesaki-bowl on a low table for every Japanese visitor that had entered hisshop. 

The Japs all went through a side-door of the opium-den into a largeroom, where they took off their outer clothing and put on uniformsinstead. Then they lay down to sleep either on the mats on the floor oron the bundles of clothing which were stacked on the floor along thewalls of the room. 

Hung Wapu now accompanied one of his Chinese guests up the cellar-stepsto the street, and sitting down on the top step began to chat in a lowvoice with his apparently half-intoxicated countryman. At the same timehe polished about two dozen little saki-bowls with an old rag, afterwards arranging them in long rows on the pavement. 

The animated traffic in the narrow alley gradually died down. One by onemost of the gas-lamps closed their tired eyes, and only the greenpaper-lantern above Hung Wapu's door continued to swing to and fro inthe night-wind, while similar spots of colored light were visible infront of a few of the neighboring houses. Far away a clock struck thehour of midnight, and somewhere else, high up in the air, a bell rangout twelve strokes with a metallic sound. A cool current of air comingfrom the harbor swept through the hot, ill-smelling alley. 

Hung Wapu went on whispering with his companion, and all the time hecontinued to polish his little saki-bowls. After a while the visitorfell asleep against the door-post and snored with all his might. Mistyshadows began to fall slowly and the lights of the street lamps took ona red glow. Suddenly the figure of a drunken man appeared a littledistance away; he was carefully feeling his way along the houses, but assoon as he came in sight of Hung Wapu's cellar, he suddenly seemed tosober up for a minute and made directly for it. "Saki!" he stammered, planting himself in front of Hung Wapu, whereupon the latter made asign. The drunken man, a Japanese, whose face looked ghastly pale in thegreen light from the lantern, stared stupidly at the saki-bowls, whichHung Wapu was trying to shield from the tottering wretch with his arm. 

"Twenty-eight bowls, " he stammered to himself, "twenty-eightsaki-bowls----"

At this moment the sleeping Chinaman awoke and looked at the drunken manwith a silly laugh. 

"Yes, twenty-eight saki-bowls; it's all right--twenty-eight saki-bowls, "repeated the drunken Jap, and reeled on along the houses. 

Hung Wapu seemed to have ended his day's work with the polishing of thetwenty-eight saki-bowls; he piled them up in a heap and disappeared withthem into his cellar, followed with extraordinary agility by the Chinesesleeper. He hurried through the chop-house, the occupants of which wereall fast asleep on their straw mats, passed through the opium-den, andthen, in the third room, divested himself of his Chinese coat. Thesilk-cap with the pigtail attached was flung into a corner, and then, dressed in a khaki uniform, he seated himself at a table and studied amap of the city of San Francisco, making notes in a small book by thelight of a smoky oil lamp. 

The drunken Jap, who had apparently had doubts about entering HungWapu's chop-house, tottered on down the quiet street and made foranother paper-lantern, which hung above another cellar door about tenhouses farther on. 

Here too, curiously enough, he found the Chinese landlord sitting on thetop step. He wanted to push him aside and stumble down the steps, butthe Chinaman stopped him. 

"How much?" stuttered the drunken man. 

"How much?" answered the Chinaman. "How much money will the greatstranger pay for a meal for his illustrious stomach in Si Wafang'smiserable hut? Forty kasch, forty kasch the noble son of the Rising Sunmust pay for a shabby meal in Si Wafang's wretched hut. "

"Forty kasch? I'll bring the forty kasch, most noble Si Wafang. 'I won'tgo home till morning, till daylight does appear, '" bawled the tipsy man, and staggered on down the street, whereupon this landlord alsodisappeared in his cellar, after extinguishing the paper lantern overthe doorway. 

A death-like stillness reigned in the street, and no one imagined thatthe rats were assembling, that the underground passages were full ofthem, and that it only needed a sign to bring the swarming masses to thesurface. 

A cold breeze from the sea swept through the deserted streets and amisty veil enveloped the yellow light of the gas-lamps. The lanternshanging in front of the Chinese cellars were extinguished one by one, and everyone apparently turned in. The fog became thicker and thicker, and covered the pavement with moisture. 

Suddenly the door of Hung Wapu's cellar squeaked; it was openedcautiously and a low clatter came up from below. Thirty dark forms creptslowly up the steps, one after the other, and without a word they begantheir march. Ten houses farther on a similar detachment poured out ofthe other Chinese cellar and joined their ranks. 

The gas-lamps shed a dull, yellowish-red light on the gun-barrels of theJapanese company, which was marching down to the docks. 

Two thousand steps farther on it had become a battalion, which marchedrapidly in the direction of the barracks of the Fifth Regiment ofregulars in the old Presidio. At the next corner the leader of thebattalion unobtrusively saluted a man in uniform who stepped suddenlyout of a doorway. A few Japanese words were exchanged in a low tone. 

"This is an unexpected ally, " said the Japanese colonel, holding out hishand in the dense fog. 

Four o'clock struck from the tower of the Union Ferry Depot, and outfrom the sea, from the Golden Gate, came the bellowing voice of asteamer's whistle. The two officers looked at each other and smiled, andthe troops continued their march. 

"Halloo!" shouted a roundsman to a policeman who had been leaningagainst a lamp-post half asleep. "Halloo, Tom, wake up! Who are thosefellows over there; where the deuce are they going?"

Tom opened his eyes, and up on the hill, a few blocks away, he couldfaintly distinguish through the thick fog the outline of a group ofrapidly moving soldiers. "I guess they are some of our boys taking partin the naval maneuver. You know, Perry's going to attack us to-day. "

"Well, I didn't know that, " replied the roundsman. "They're great boys, all right; up and about at four in the morning. " Just then the angrybellow from a steamer's whistle came across the water and abruptly endedthis early morning conversation. 

"I suppose that's Perry now, " said Tom. "Well, he can't do much in thisbeastly fog, anyway. "

"So long, Tom, " answered the roundsman curtly as he slowly proceeded toresume his interrupted rounds. 

An advance guard of a few men had been sent ahead. They found the sentryat the barrack-gates fast asleep. When he awoke it was to discoverhimself surrounded by a dozen men. He stared at them, still heavy withsleep, and then reached mechanically for his gun; it was gone. He triedto pull himself together, felt something cold pressed against his righttemple, and saw the barrel of a Browning pistol in the hand of the manin front of him. 

"Hands up!" came the command in a low tone, and a few seconds later hewas bound and gagged. As he lay on the ground, he saw a whole battalionof foreign soldiers half in the court-yard before the barracks, andvague thoughts of naval maneuvers and surprises, of Admiral Perry andthe Japs went through his mind, till all at once the notion "Japs"caused him to sit up mentally--weren't these men real Japanese? And ifso, what did it all mean?

In the meantime double guards had occupied all the men's quarters, inwhich Uncle Sam's soldiers began gradually to wake up. The guns andammunition had long ago passed into the hands of the Japs, and when atlast the reveille from a Japanese bugle woke up the garrison completely, there was nothing to be done but to grind their teeth with rage andsubmit to the inevitable. They had to form in line in the court-yard ateight o'clock, and then, disarmed and escorted by Japanese troops, theyhad to board the ferry-boats and cross over to Angel Island, while thecannon on Fort Point (Winfield Scott) thundered out the last notes ofAmerican resistance in San Francisco. 

 * * * * *

When, shortly after midnight, the guard had been relieved for the lasttime, and only a few sleepy soldiers remained in the sentry-boxes of thecoast batteries of San Francisco, the enemy lay in ambush behind thecoast-line, ready, to the last man, to rise at a given signal and renderthe unsuspecting American troops _hors de combat_ in their sleep. Andthus, before the sentinels had any idea what was going on, they weredisarmed and gagged. Not a single cry or shot was heard to warn thesleeping soldiers. They awoke to find themselves confronted by Japanesebayonets and gun-barrels, and resistance was utterly useless, for theenemy, who seemed to be remarkably well posted, had already takenpossession of the ammunition and arms. 

And where, all this time, was Admiral Perry with his fleet? Nowhere. TheJapanese had made no mistake in relying on the traditional love ofsensation of the American press. The telegram sent on May sixth from LosAngeles to the San Francisco _Evening Standard_ was nothing but aJapanese trick. It notified the _Standard_ that Admiral Perry intendedduring the naval maneuvers (which were actually to take place within thenext fortnight) to gain an entrance through the Golden Gate, and theJapanese felt certain that the editor would not make inquiries at thelast moment as to the veracity of this report, which was not at all inaccord with previous arrangements, but would print it as it was, moreespecially as it was signed by their usual correspondent. 

Thus the Japanese had reason to hope that no immediate suspicions wouldbe aroused by the appearance of warships in the Bay of San Francisco. And so it turned out. The five Japanese armored cruisers and the torpedoflotilla, which were to surprise and destroy the naval station and thedocks, were able to cross the entire bay under cover of the fog withoutbeing recognized and to occupy the docks and the arsenal. Fourmortar-boats threatened Point Bonita and Lime Point, till they bothsurrendered. 

What could the two cruisers _New York_ and _Brooklyn_, lying in dock forrepairs, do without a single ball-cartridge on board? What was the goodof the deck guards using up their cartridges before the red flag ofNippon was hoisted above the Stars and Stripes?

It is true there was a fight at one spot--out at Winfield Scott. Although the fog proved of great assistance to the Japanese in a hundredcases, the stipulated signal for attack, that is, the whistle of theJapanese auxiliary cruiser _Pelung Maru_, for example, being taken for afog-signal, nevertheless an annoying surprise awaited the enemyelsewhere. 

A steamer headed towards the Golden Gate in the wake of the _PelungMaru_ heard the roar of the sealions, and as this showed how near theywere to the cliffs, the vessel dropped anchor and instead of blowing itswhistle ordered the ship's bell to be rung. This was heard by the_Pelung Maru_ a short distance ahead and interpreted as a sign thatsomething had occurred to disturb the plan of attack. A steamlaunch wastherefore sent out to look for the anchored ship. 

The latter was the German steamer _Siegismund_, whose captain, standingon the bridge, suddenly saw a dripping little launch approaching withits flag trailing behind it in the water. And just as in every cleverlyarranged plan one stupid oversight is apt to occur so it happened now. The launch carried the Japanese flag and the lieutenant at the helmcalled to the _Siegismund_ in Japanese. As they were directly before theguns of the American batteries, the German captain didn't know what tomake of it. He couldn't imagine what the launch from a Japanese warshipcould be doing here at dawn before the Golden Gate fortifications, andthinking that the fact would be likely to be of interest to thecommander of the fort, he sent him the following wireless message: "Havejust met launch of a Japanese warship off Seal-Rocks; what does itmean?"

This information alarmed the garrison at Winfield Scott, and the men atonce received orders to man the guns. Then they waited breathlessly tosee what would happen next. 

An inquiry sent by wireless to the other stations remained unanswered, because these were already in the hands of the Japanese, whose operatorswere not quick-witted enough to send back a reassuring answer. As thecommander of the fort received no answer, he became suspicious, andthese suspicions were soon justified when a number of soldiers werediscovered trying to force their way into the narrow land entrance ofthe fort. A few shots fired during the first bayonet assault and thebullets landing within the fort showed that it was a serious matter. Besides, a puff of wind dispersed the fog for a few seconds just then, and the shadowy silhouettes of several large ships became visible. Without a moment's hesitation the commander of Winfield Scott orderedthe men to open fire on them from the heavy guns. These were the shotsthat had been heard at the San Francisco Post Office and Tom was quiteright in thinking that he heard the rattle of musketry directlyafterwards. 

But with the small stock of ammunition doled out to the coast defensesin times of peace--there were plenty of blank cartridges for salutes--itwas impossible to hold Winfield Scott. The fort sent out a few dozenshells into the fog pretty blindly, and, as a matter of fact, they hitnothing. Then began the hopeless battle between the garrison and theJapanese machine-guns, and although the shots from the latter werepowerless to affect the walls and the armor-plating, still they workedhavoc among the men. And the ammunition of the Americans disappearedeven more quickly than their men, so that when at ten o'clock twoJapanese regiments undertook to capture the fort by storm, the lastdefender fell with practically the last cartridge. Then the Rising Sunof Dai Nippon was substituted on the flagstaff of Winfield Scott forthe Stars and Stripes. 

In the city itself small Japanese guards were posted at the railwaystation, the Post Office and the telegraph offices, at the City Hall andat most of the public buildings, and as early as this, on the morning ofMay seventh, troops for the march eastward were being landed at the pierat Oakland. A standing garrison of only five thousand men was left inSan Francisco, and these at once occupied the coast-batteries andprepared them for defense. The same thing was of course done with thedocks and the naval station, with Oakland and all the other townssituated on the bay. 

The sudden appearance of the enemy had in every case had a positivelyparalyzing effect. Among the inhabitants of the coast the terriblefeeling prevailed everywhere that this was the end, that nothing couldbe done against an enemy whose soldiers crept out of every hole andcranny, and even when a few courageous men did unite for the purpose ofdefending their homes, they found no followers. It is a pity that othersdid not show the resolute courage of a Mexican fisherman's wife, whoreached the harbor of San Francisco with a good catch early on Mondaymorning and made fast to the pier close to a Japanese destroyer. Almostimmediately a Japanese petty officer came on board and demanded thecatch for the use of the Japanese army. The woman, a coarse beauty witha fine mustache, planted herself in front of the Jap and shouted: "What, you shrimp, you want our fish, do you?" and seizing a good-sized silverfish lying on the deck, she boxed the astonished warrior's ears rightand left till he fell over backwards into the water and swam quicklyback to the destroyer, snorting like a seal, amidst the laughter of thebystanders. 

The question naturally suggests itself at this point: Why didn't apeople as determined as the Americans rise like one man and, armingthemselves with revolvers and pistols and if it came to the worst withsuch primitive weapons as knives and spokes, attack the various smallJapanese garrisons and free their country from this flood of swarmingyellow ants? The white handbills posted up at every street cornerfurnished the answer to the question. 

The municipal authorities were made responsible to the Japanese militarygovernor, who was clever enough to leave the entire American municipaladministration unaltered, even down to the smallest detail. Even thelocal police remained in office. The whole civil life went on as before, and only the machine-guns in front of the Japanese guard-houses situatedat the various centers of traffic showed who was now ruler in the land. All the officials and the whole city administration were bound by amarvelously clever and effective system. 

In the proclamations issued by the Japanese military governor the citywas threatened, should the slightest sign of resistance occur, with actsof vengeance that positively took one's breath away. Three Japanesecruisers, with their guns constantly loaded and manned and aimeddirectly at the two cities, lay between Oakland and San Francisco. Theyhad orders to show no mercy and to commence a bombardment at the firstsign of trouble. It did not seem to have occurred to any one thatalthough the bombardment of a town like San Francisco by a few dozenguns might indeed have a bad moral effect, it would nevertheless beimpossible to do much harm. But the Japanese had other trump cards uptheir sleeves. The military governor declared that the moment they werecompelled to use the guns, he would cut off all the available supply ofwater and light, by which means all resistance would be broken downwithin twenty-four hours. For this reason all the gas-works andelectric plants were transformed into little forts and protected bycannon and machine-guns. Tens of thousands might try, in vain, to takethem by storm; the city would remain wrapped in darkness, except, as theJapanese general remarked with a polite smile to the Mayor of SanFrancisco, for the bright light of bursting shells. 

In the same way the municipal waterworks in San Francisco and all theother towns occupied by the Japanese were insured against attack. Notone drop of water would the town receive, and what that meant could bebest explained to the Mayor by his wife. And thus, in spite of theiroften ridiculously small numbers, the Japanese troops were safe fromsurprise, for the awful punishment meted out to the town of Stockton, where a bold and quickly organized band of citizens destroyed theJapanese garrison, consisting only of a single company, was not likelyto be disregarded. The entire population of the Pacific Coast was forcedto submit quietly, though boiling with rage, while at the same time alllistened eagerly for the report of cannon from the American army in theeast. But was there such a thing as an American army? Was there anysense in hoping when months must pass before an American army could takethe field?

 * * * * *

The deception of the _Evening Standard_ by means of the fatal telegramwas preceded by an instructive episode. Indeed, it might well be askedwhether anything that happened in this terrible time could not be tracedback pretty far. In order that the news of the naval maneuvers in the_Evening Standard_ should receive sufficient attention on the criticalday, this paper and consequently the inhabitants of San Francisco hadfor some months past been taught to expect over the signature "OurNaval Correspondent, " amazingly correct accounts of the movements of theAmerican fleet and all matters pertaining to the navy. 

Mr. Alfred Stephenson had hard work to keep his head above water aseditor of the _Los Angeles Advertiser_ at Los Angeles. The struggle forexistence gave him considerable cause for worry, and this was due to thefact that Mrs. Olinda Stephenson wished to cut a figure in society, afigure that was not at all compatible with her husband's income. Mr. Stephenson was therefore often called upon to battle with temptation, but for a long time he successfully withstood all offers the acceptanceof which would have lowered him in his own estimation. The consequencewas that financial discussion had become chronic in the Stephensonhousehold, and, like a Minister of Finance, he was compelled to developconsiderable energy in order to diminish the financial demands of theopposition or render them void by having recourse to passive resistance. This constant worry gradually exhausted Mr. Stephenson, however, and thecheck-book, which, to save his face, he always carried with him, wasnothing more than a piece of useless bluff. 

He could therefore scarcely be blamed for eagerly seizing theopportunity offered him one evening at a bar in Los Angeles, when astranger agreed to furnish him regularly with news from the NavyDepartment for the _Evening Standard_. The affair had, of course, to beconducted with the greatest secrecy. The stranger told Stephenson that aclerk in the Navy Department was willing to send him such news for twohundred dollars per annum. The result was astonishing. The articlessigned "Our Naval Correspondent" soon attracted wide attention, and thelarge fees received from San Francisco quite covered the deficits in theStephenson household. Mrs. Olinda was soon rolling in money and thetiresome financial discussions came to a speedy end. From that time onStephenson regularly received secret communications, which were mailedat Pasadena, and as to the origin of which he himself remained incomplete ignorance. But these same messages enabled the _EveningStandard_ in a brief space of time to establish a national reputationfor its naval news, which was at no time officially contradicted. 

The matter did not, of course, pass unnoticed in Washington, for it soonbecame evident that secret dispatches were being misappropriated. Vigorous efforts were made to discover the guilty person in the NavyDepartment, but they all proved vain for the following reason: Among thewireless stations used for maintaining constant communication betweenthe Navy Department at Washington and the various naval ports and navalstations, and the fleet itself when at sea, was the large station onWilson's Peak near the observatory, whose shining tin-roof can be seenplainly from Los Angeles when the sun strikes it. All messages arrivingthere for transmission to San Diego and Mare Island could be readilyintercepted by the wireless apparatus attached inconspicuously to thehuge wind-wheel on an orange plantation between Pasadena and LosAngeles. The uninitiated would have concluded that the wires hadsomething to do with a lightning-rod. The Japanese proprietor of theplantation had simply to read the messages from the Morse key of hisapparatus and forward what he considered advisable to Mr. Stephenson bymail. A few hours later the _Evening Standard_ was in a position to makea scoop with the dispatches of its infallible naval correspondent. 

Thus Stephenson, without having the slightest suspicion of it, formed awheel in the great chain which prepared the way for the enemy, and sincethe _Evening Standard_ had earned a reputation for publishingabsolutely reliable news in this field, no one for a moment doubted theannouncement of Admiral Perry's attack, although this was the firstspurious message which Stephenson had furnished to his paper. 

_Chapter IX_

A FORTY-EIGHT-HOUR BALANCE

A steamer is lying at the pier taking in cargo. Long-legged cranes aretaking hold of bales and barrels and boxes and lowering them through theship's hatches with a rattle of chains. Wooden cases bound with steelropes and containing heavy machinery are being hoisted slowly from thelorries on the railway tracks; the swaying burden is turning round andround in the air, knocking against the railing with a groaning noise, and tearing off large splinters of wood. The overseer is swearing at themen at the windlass and comparing his papers with the slips of thecustoms officer, the one making a blue check on the bill of lading andthe other taking note of each article on his long list. Suddenly a smallbox comes to light, which has been waiting patiently since yesterdayunder the sheltering tarpaulin. "A box of optical instruments, " says thecustoms officer, making a blue check. "A box of optical instruments, "repeats the overseer, making a mark with his moistened pencil-stump:"Careful!" he adds, as a workman is on the point of tipping the heavybox over. Then the hook of the crane seizes the loop in the steel ropeand with a stuttering rattling sound the wheels of the windlass set towork, the steel wire grips the side of the box tightly, the barrelbeside it is pushed aside, and a wooden case enclosing a piece ofcast-iron machinery is scraped angrily over the slippery cobble-stones. Heave ho, heave ho, chant the men, pushing with all their might. To theaccompaniment of splashing drops of oily water, puffs of steam, groansof the windlass and the yells and curses of the stevedores, the wholeload, including the box of optical instruments, at last disappears inthe hold of the ship. It is placed securely between rolls of cardboardnext to some nice white boxes filled with shining steel goods. But whenthe noise up above has died down, when with the approach of darkness therattling of the chains and the groaning of the windlasses has ceased, when only the slow step of the deck-watch finds an echo--then it can beheard. Inside the box you can hear a gentle but steady tick, tick, tick. The clock-work is wound up and set to the exact second. Tick, tick, tickit goes. When the ship is far out at sea and the passengers are asleepand the watch calls out: "Lights are burning. All's well!" then theworks will have run down, the spring will stop and loosen a littlehammer. Ten kilograms of dynamite suffice. A quarter of an hour laterthere'll be nothing left of the proud steamer but a few boats loadeddown with people and threatening every moment to be engulfed in thewaves. 

Tick, tick, tick, it goes down in the hold; the clock is set. Tick, tick, tick, it goes on unceasingly, till the unknown hour arrives. Noone suspects the true nature of a piece of the cargo which certainlylooked innocent enough. Yet the hour is bound to come sooner or later, but no one knows just when. 

 * * * * *

Nor had the country at large recognized that the hour was at hand. Inthe time that it took the short hand of the clock to complete its roundfour times, our country had completely changed its complexion, and thebalance drawn by the press on Tuesday morning after an interval offorty-eight hours, had a perfectly crushing effect. Of course theappearance of the enemy in the West at once produced a financial panicin New York. On Monday morning the Wall Street stock-quotations of thetrans-continental railroads fell to the lowest possible figure, rendering the shares about as valuable as the paper upon which they wereprinted. Apparently enormous numbers of shares had been thrown on themarket in the first wild panic, but an hour after the opening of theStock Exchange, after billions had changed hands in mad haste, a slightrise set in as a result of wholesale purchases by a single individual. Yet even before this fact had been clearly recognized, the railwaymagnates of the West had bought up all the floating stock withoutexception. They could afford to wait for the millions they would pocketuntil the American army had driven the enemy from the country. 

At the same time selling orders came pouring in from the other side byway of London. The Old World lost no time in trying to get rid of itsAmerican stocks, and the United States were made to realize that in thehour of a political catastrophe every nation has to stand on its ownfeet, and that all the diplomatic notes and the harmlesssentimentalities of foreign states will avail nothing. So it was afterthe terrible night of Port Arthur and so it was now. 

It was of course as yet impossible to figure out in detail how theJapanese had managed to take possession of the Pacific States withintwenty-four hours. But from the dispatches received from all parts ofthe country during the next few days and weeks the following picturecould be drawn. The number of Japanese on American soil was in roundnumbers one hundred thousand. The Japanese had not only establishedthemselves as small tradesmen and shopkeepers in the towns, but had alsosettled everywhere as farmers and fruit-growers; Japanese coolies andMongolian workmen were to be found wherever new buildings were going upas well as on all the railways. The yellow flood was threatening todestroy the very foundations of our domestic economy by forcing down allwage-values. The yellow immigrant who wrested spade and shovel, ax andsaw, from the American workman, who pushed his way into the factory andthe workshop and acted as a heartless strike breaker, was not only foundin the Pacific States but had pushed his way across the Rockies into thevery heart of the eastern section. And scarcely had he settled anywhere, before, with the typical Tsushima grin, he demanded his politicalrights. The individual Jap excited no suspicion and did not becometroublesome, but the Mongolians always managed to distribute theiroutposts on American soil in such a way that the Japanese element neverattracted undue attention in any one particular spot. Nevertheless theywere to be found everywhere. 

We had often been told that every Japanese who landed on the PacificCoast or crossed the Mexican or Canadian borders was a trained soldier. But we had always regarded this fact more as a political curiosity or aJapanese peculiarity than as a warning. We never for a moment realizedthat this whole immigration scheme was regulated by a perfect system, and that every Japanese immigrant had received his military orders andwas in constant touch with the secret military centers at San Francisco, who at stated periods sent out Japanese traders and agents--in realitythey were officers of the general staff, who at the same time madeimportant topographical notes for use in case of war--to control theirmovements. Both the lumber companies in the State of Washington, whichbrought hundreds of Japanese over from Canada, and the railways whichemployed Japanese workmen were equally ignorant of the fact that theyhad taken a Japanese regiment into their employ. 

Thus preparations for the coming war were conducted on a large scaleduring the year 1907, until the ever-increasing flow of Japaneseimmigrants finally led to those conflicts with which we are familiar. Atthe time we regarded it as a triumph of American diplomacy when Japan, in the face of California's threatening attitude, apparently gave inafter a little diplomatic bickering and issued the well-knownproclamation concerning emigration to Hawaii and the Pacific States, atthe same time dissolving several emigration companies at home. 

As a matter of fact Japan had already completed her militarypreparations in our country in times of absolute peace, the soledifficulty experienced being in connection with the concentration of theremaining coolie importations. The Japanese invasion, which ourpoliticians dismissed as possible only in the dim and distant future, was actually completed at the beginning of the year 1908. A Japanesearmy stood prepared and fully armed right in our midst, merely waitinguntil the military and financial conditions at home rendered the attackfeasible. 

When we glance to-day through the newspapers of that period, we cannothelp but smile at allowing ourselves to be persuaded that the Japanesedanger had been removed by the diplomatic retreat in Tokio and theprohibition of emigration to North America. Our papers stated at thetime that Japan had recognized that she had drawn the bow too tight andthat she had yielded because Admiral Evans's fleet had demonstratedconclusively that we were prepared. That only goes to show how little weknew of the Mongolian character!

We had become so accustomed to the large Japanese element in thepopulation of our Western States, that we entirely neglected to controlthe harmless looking individuals. To be sure there wasn't a great dealto be seen on the surface, but it would have been interesting to examinesome of the goods smuggled so regularly across the Mexican and Canadianborders. Why were we content to allow the smuggling to continue withoutinterference, simply because we felt it couldn't be stamped out anyhow?The Japanese did not resort to the hackneyed piano-cases and farmingmachinery; they knew better than to employ such clumsy methods. Thegoods they sent over the line consisted of neat little boxes full ofguns and other weapons which had been taken apart. And when a Japanesefarmer ordered a hay-cart from Canada, it was no pure chance that theremarkably strong wheels of this cart exactly fitted a field-gun. Thebarrel was brought over by a neighbor, who ordered iron columns for hisnew house, inside of which the separate parts of the barrel weresoldered. It was in this way that, in the course of several years, theentire equipment for the Japanese army came quietly and inconspicuouslyacross our borders. 

And then the Japanese are so clever, clever in putting together andmounting their guns, clever in disguising them. Did it ever enteranyone's head that the amiable landlord who cracked so many jokes at theJapanese inn not far from the railroad station at Reno commanded abattalion? Did anyone suppose that the casks of California wine in hiscellar in reality enclosed six machine-guns, and that in the yard behindthe house there was sufficient material to equip an entire company ofartillery inside of two hours, and that plenty of ammunition was storedaway in the attic in boxes and trunks ostensibly left by travelers to beheld until called for? As long as there's sufficient time at disposal, all these things can be imported into the country bit by bit, andwithout ever coming into conflict with the government. 

Things began to stir about the end of April. A great many Japs weretraveling about the country, but there was no reason why thiscircumstance should have attracted special notice in a country like ourswhere so much traveling is constantly done. The enemy were assembling. The people arrived at the various stations and at once disappeared inthe country, bound for the different headquarters in the solitudes ofthe mountains. There each one found his ammunition, his gun and hisuniform exactly as it was described in Japanese characters on the paperwhich he had received on landing, and which had more than once beenofficially revised or supplemented as the result of information receivedfrom chance acquaintances who had paid him a visit. 

Everything worked like a charm; there wasn't a hitch anywhere. No onehad paid any particular attention to the fact, for example, inconnection with the fair to be held in the small town of Irvington onMay eighth, that numerous carts with Japanese farmers had arrived on theSaturday before and that they had brought several dozen horses withthem. And who could object to their putting up at the Japanese innwhich, with its big stables, was specially suited to their purpose. Atfirst the Japanese owner had been laughed at, but later on he wasadmired for his business ability in keeping the horse trade of Irvingtonentirely in his own hands. 

When on the following day during church hours--the Japanese beingheathens--the streets lay deserted in their Sunday calm, the few peoplewho happened to be on Main Street and saw a field battery consisting ofsix guns and six ammunition wagons turn out of the gate next to theJapanese inn thought they had seen an apparition. The battery startedoff at once at a sharp trot and left the town to take up a position outin a field in the suburbs, where a dozen men were already busily at workwith spades and pick-axes digging a trench. 

The police of Irvington were at once notified, a sleepy official at thePost Office was roused out of his slumbers, and a telegram was directedto the nearest military post, but the latter proceeding was useless andno answer was received, since the copper wires were long ago in thecontrol of the enemy. Even if it had got through, the telegraphicwarning would have come too late, for the military post in question, ofwhich half of the troops were, as usual, on leave, had been attacked andcaptured by the Japanese at nine o'clock in the morning. 

A hundred thousand Japanese had established the line of an easternadvance-guard long before the Pacific States had any idea of what wasup. During Sunday, after the capture of San Francisco, the occupation ofSeattle, San Diego and the other fortified towns on the coast, thelanding of the second detachment of the Japanese army began, and byMonday evening the Pacific States were in the grip of no less than onehundred and seventy thousand men. 

 * * * * *

When, on Sunday morning, the Japanese had cut off the railwayconnections, they adopted the plan of allowing all trains going fromeast to west to pass unmolested, so that there was soon quite acollection of engines and cars to be found within the zone bounded bythe Japanese outposts. On the other hand, all the trains runningeastward were held up, some being sent back and others being used forconveying the Japanese troops to advance posts or for bringing thevarious lines of communication into touch with one another. In somecases these trains were also used for pushing boldly much farther east, the enemy thus surprising and overpowering a number of military postsand arsenals in which the guns and ammunition for the militia werestored. 

Only in a very few instances did this gigantic mechanism fail. One ofthese accidents occurred at Swallowtown, where the mistake was made ofattacking the express-train to Umatilla instead of the local train toPendleton. The lateness of the former and the occupation of the stationtoo long before the expected arrival of the latter, and coupled to thisthe heroic deed of the station-master, interfered unexpectedly with theexecution of the plan. The reader will remember that when the expressreturned to Swallowtown, Tom's shanty was empty. The enemy haddisappeared and had taken the two captive farmers with them. The mountedpolice, who had been summoned immediately from Walla Walla, found thetwo men during the afternoon in their wagon, bound hand and foot, in ahollow a few miles to the west of the station. They also discovered atime-table of the Oregon Railway in the wagon, with a note in Japanesecharacters beside the time for the arrival of the local train fromUmatilla. This time-table had evidently been lost by the leader of theparty on his flight. Soon after the police had returned to theSwallowtown station that same evening, a Japanese military train passedthrough, going in the direction of Pendleton. The train was movingslowly and those within opened fire on the policeman, who lost no timein replying. But the odds were too great, and it was all over in a fewminutes. 

By Monday evening the enemy had secured an immense quantity of railwaymaterial, which had simply poured into their arms automatically, andwhich was more than sufficient for their needs. 

The information received from Victoria (British Columbia) that a fleethad been sighted in the Straits of San Juan de Fuca, whence it was saidto have proceeded to Port Townsend and Puget Sound, was quite correct. Acruiser squadron had indeed passed Esquimault and Victoria at dawn onSunday, and a few hours later firing had been heard coming from thedirection of Port Townsend. The British harbor officials had suddenlybecome extremely timid and had not allowed the regular steamer to leavefor Seattle. When, therefore, on Monday morning telegraphic inquiriescame from the American side concerning the foreign warships, which, bythe way, had carried no flag, ambiguous answers could be made withoutarousing suspicion. Considerable excitement prevailed in Victoria onaccount of the innumerable vague rumors of the outbreak of war; thenaval station, however, remained perfectly quiet. On Monday morning acruiser started out in the direction of Port Townsend, and afterexchanging numerous signals with Esquimault, continued on her coursetowards Cape Flattery and the open sea. It will be seen, therefore, thatno particular zeal was shown in endeavoring to get at the bottom of thematter. 

A battle between the Japanese ships and the forts of Port Townsend hadactually taken place. Part of the hostile fleet had escorted thetransport steamers to Puget Sound and had there found the naval depotsand the fortifications, the arsenal and the docks in the hands of theircountrymen, who had also destroyed the second-class battleship _Texas_lying off Port Orchard by firing at her from the coast forts previouslystormed and captured by them. They had surprised Seattle at dawn much inthe same way as San Francisco had been surprised, and they at oncebegan to land troops and unload their war materials. On the other hand, an attempt to surprise Port Townsend with an insufficient force hadfailed. The Americans had had enough sense to prohibit the Japanese fromcoming too near to the newly armed coast defenses, and the better watchwhich the little town had been able to keep over the Asiatics had madeit difficult for them to assemble a sufficiently large fightingcontingent. The work here had to be attended to by the guns, and theenemy had included this factor in their calculations from the beginning. 

How thoroughly informed the Japanese were as to every detail of ourcoast defenses and how well acquainted they were with each separatebattery, with its guns as well as with its ammunition, was clearlydemonstrated by the new weapon brought into the field in connection withthe real attack on the fortifications. Of course Japanese laborers hadbeen employed in erecting the works--they worked for such ridiculouslylow wages, those Japanese engineers disguised as coolies. With the eightmillion two hundred thousand dollars squeezed out of Congress in thespring of 1908--in face of the unholy fear on the part of the nation'srepresentatives of a deficit, it had been impossible to get more--twonew mortar batteries had been built on the rocky heights of PortTownsend. These batteries, themselves inaccessible to all ships' guns, were in a position to pour down a perpendicular fire on hostile decksand could thus make short work of every armored vessel. 

Now the Japanese had already had a very unpleasant experience with thestrong coast fortifications of Port Arthur. In the first place, bombarding of this nature was very injurious to the bores of the ships'guns, and secondly, the results on land were for the most part nominal. Not without reason had Togo tried to get at the shore batteries of PortArthur by indirect fire from Pigeon Bay. But even that, in spite ofcareful observations taken from the water, had little effect. And eventhe strongest man-of-war was helpless against the perpendicular fire ofthe Port Townsend mortar batteries, because it was simply impossible forits guns, with their slight angle of elevation, to reach the fortssituated so high above them. And if the road to Seattle, that importantbase of operations in the North, was not to be perpetually menaced, thenPort Townsend must be put out of commission. 

But for every weapon a counter-weapon is usually invented, and every newdiscovery is apt to be counterbalanced by another. The world has neveryet been overturned by a new triumph of skill in military technics, because it is at once paralyzed by another equally ingenious. And now, at Port Townsend, very much the same thing happened as on March ninth, 1862. In much the same way that the appearance of the _Merrimac_ hadbrought destruction to the wooden fleet until she was herself forced toflee before Ericsson's _Monitor_ at Hampton Roads, so now at PortTownsend on May seventh a new weapon was made to stand the crucial test. Only this time we were not the pathfinders of the new era. 

While the Japanese cruisers, keeping carefully beyond the line of firefrom the forts, sailed on to Seattle, four ships were brought intoaction against the mortar batteries of Port Townsend which appeared toset at defiance all known rules of ship-building, and which, indestructible as they were, threatened to annihilate all existingsystems. They were low vessels which floated on the water like hugetortoises. These mortar-boats, which were destined to astound not onlythe Americans but the whole world, had been constructed in Japaneseshipyards, to which no stranger had ever been admitted. In place of theordinary level-firing guns found on a modern warship, these uncanny graythings carried 17. 7-inch howitzers, a kind of mortar of Japaneseconstruction. There was nothing to be seen above the low deck but ashort heavily protected funnel and four little armored domes whichcontained the sighting telescopes for the guns, the mouths of which layin the arch of the whaleback deck. Four such vessels had also beenconstructed for use at San Francisco, but the quick capture of the fortshad rendered the mortar-boats unnecessary. 

We were constantly being attacked in places where no thought had beengiven to the defense, and the fortifications we did possess were nevershot at from the direction they faced. Our coast defenses wereeverywhere splendidly protected against level-firing guns, which theJapanese, however, unfortunately refrained from using. With theirmortar-boats they attacked our forts in their most vulnerable spot, thatis, from above. With the exception of Winfield Scott, the batteries atPort Townsend were the only ones on our western coast which at onceconstrued the appearance of suspicious-looking ships on May seventh assigns of a Japanese attack, and they immediately opened fire on the fourJapanese cruisers and on the transport steamers. But before this firehad any effect, the hostile fleet changed its course to the North andthe four mortar-boats began their attack. They approached to within twonautical miles and opened fire at once. 

What was the use of our gunners aiming at the flat, gray arches of theseuncanny ocean-tortoises? The heavy shells splashed into the water allaround them, and when one did succeed in hitting one of the boats, itwas simply dashed to pieces against the armor-plate, which was severalfeet thick, or else it glanced off harmlessly like hail dancing off thedomed roof of a pavilion. The only targets were the flames which shotincessantly out of the mouths of the hostile guns like out of afunnel-shaped crater. 

By noon all the armored domes of the Port Townsend batteries had beendestroyed and one gun after another had ceased firing. The horizontalarmor-plates, too, which protected the disappearing gun-carriagesbelonging to the huge guns of the other forts, had not been able towithstand the masses of steel which came down almost perpendicularlyfrom above them. One single well-aimed shot had usually sufficed tocripple the complicated mechanism and once that was injured, it wasimpossible to bring the gun back into position for firing. The concreteroofs of the ammunition rooms and barracks were shot to pieces and thetraverses were reduced to rubbish heaps by the bursting of the numerousshells of the enemy. And all that was finally left round the tatteredStars and Stripes was a little group of heavily wounded gunners, performing their duty to the bitter end, and these heroes were honoredby the enemy by being permitted to keep their arms. They were sent bysteamer from Seattle to the Canadian Naval Station at Esquimault on theseventh of May, and their arrival inspired the populace to stormydemonstrations against the Japanese, this being the first outwardexpression of Canadian sympathy for the United States. The Canadiansfelt that the time had come for all white men to join hands against thecommon danger, and the policy of the Court of St. James soon becameintensely unpopular throughout Canada. What did Canada care about whatwas considered the proper policy in London, when here at their very doornecessity pressed hard on their heels, and the noise of war from acrossthe border sounded a shrill Mene Tekel in the white man's ear?

 * * * * *

There were therefore no less than one hundred and seventy thousandJapanese soldiers on American soil on Tuesday morning, May ninth. In thenorth, the line of outposts ran along the eastern border of the Statesof Washington and Oregon and continued through the southern portion ofIdaho, always keeping several miles to the east of the tracks of theOregon Short Line, which thus formed an excellent line of communicationbehind the enemy's front. At Granger, the junction of the Oregon ShortLine and the Union Pacific, the Japanese reached their easternmostbastion, and here they dug trenches, which were soon fortified by meansof heavy artillery. From here their line ran southward along the WasatchMountains, crossed the great Colorado plateau and then continued alongthe high section of Arizona, reaching the Mexican boundary by way ofFort Bowie. 

Only in the south and in the extreme north did railroads in anyrespectable number lead up to the Japanese front. In the center, however, the roads by way of which an American assault could be made, namely the Union Pacific at Granger, the Denver and Rio Grande at GrandJunction, and further south the Atcheson, Topeka & Santa Fé, approachedthe Japanese positions at right angles, and at these points captiveballoons and several air-ships kept constant watch toward the east, sothat there was no possibility of an American surprise. In the northstrong field fortifications along the border-line of Washington andIdaho furnished sufficient protection, and in the south the sunbakedsandy deserts of New Mexico served the same purpose. Then, too, thealmost unbroken railway connection between the north and the southallowed the enemy to transport his reserves at a moment's notice to anypoint of danger, and the Japs were clever enough not to leave theirunique position to push further eastward. Any advance of large bodiesof troops would have weakened all the manifold advantages of thisposition, and besides the Japanese numbers were not considerable enoughto warrant an unnecessary division of forces. 

And what had we in the way of troops to oppose this hostile invasion?Our regular army consisted, on paper, of sixty thousand men. Fifteenthousand of these had been stationed in the Pacific States, composedprincipally of the garrisons of the coast forts; all of these withoutexception were, by Monday morning, in the hands of the Japanese. This atonce reduced the strength of our regular army to forty-five thousandmen. Of this number eighteen thousand were in the Philippines and, although they were not aware of it, they had to all intents and purposesbeen placed _hors de combat_, both at Mindanao and in the fortificationsof Manila. Besides these the two regiments on the way from San Franciscoto Manila and the garrison of Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands, could be similarly deducted. It will be seen, therefore, that, onlytwenty-five thousand men of our regular army were available, and thesewere scattered over the entire country: some were in the numerousprairie-forts, others on the Atlantic coast, still others in Cuba and inPorto Rico. Thus twenty-five thousand men were pitted against a forcenot only seven times as large, but one that was augmented hourly byhundreds of newcomers. On Monday the President had called out theorganized militia and on the following day he sent a special message toCongress recommending the formation of a volunteer army. The calls toarms were posted in the form of huge placards at all the street-cornersand at the entrances to the speedily organized recruiting-offices. Inthis way it was possible, to be sure, within a few months to raise anarmy equal to that of the enemy so far as mere numbers were concerned, and the American citizen could be relied upon. But where were theleaders, where was the entire organization of the transport, of thecommissariat, of the ambulance corps--we possessed no militarytrain-corps at all--and most important of all, where were the arms tocome from?

The arsenals and ammunition-depots in the Pacific States were in thehands of the enemy, the cannon of our far western field-artillery depotshad aided in forming Japanese batteries, and the Japanese flag waswaving above our heavy coast guns. The terrible truth that we were forthe present absolutely helpless before the enemy had a thoroughlydisheartening effect on all classes of the population as soon as it wasclearly recognized. In impotent rage at this condition of utterhelplessness and in their eagerness to be revenged on the all-powerfulenemy, men hurried to the recruiting-offices in large numbers, and thelists for the volunteer regiments were soon covered with signatures. Thecitizens of the country dropped the plow, stood their tools in thecorner and laid their pens away; the clattering typewriters becamesilent, and in the offices of the sky-scrapers business came to astand-still. Only in the factories where war materials were manufactureddid great activity reign. 

For the present there was at least one dim hope left, namely the fleet. But where was the fleet? After our battle-fleet had crossed the Pacificto Australia and Eastern Asia, it returned to the Atlantic, while asquadron of twelve battleships and four armored cruisers was sent underAdmiral Perry to the west coast and stationed there, with headquartersat San Francisco. To these ships must be added the regular Pacificsquadron and Philippine squadron. The remaining ships of our fleet werein Atlantic waters. 

That was the fatal mistake committed in the year of our Lord 1909. Invain, all in vain, had been the oft-repeated warning that in face of themenacing Japanese danger the United States navy should be kept together, either in the west or in the east. Only when concentrated, only in thecondition in which it was taken through the Straits of Magellan byAdmiral Evans, was our fleet absolutely superior to the Japanese. Everydispersal, every separation of single divisions was bound to provefatal. Article upon article and pamphlet upon pamphlet were writtenanent the splitting-up of our navy! And yet what a multitude of entirelydifferent and mutually exclusive tasks were set her at one and the sametime! Manila was to be protected, Pearl Harbor was to have a navalstation, the Pacific coast was to be protected, and there was to be areserve fleet off the eastern coast. 

And yet it was perfectly clear that any part of the fleet which happenedto be stationed at Manila or Hawaii would be lost to the Americansimmediately on the outbreak of hostilities. But we deluded ourselveswith the idea that Japan would not dare send her ships across thePacific in the face of our little Philippine squadron, whereas not evena large squadron stationed at Manila would have hindered the Japanesefrom attacking us. Even such a squadron they could easily have destroyedwith a detachment of equal strength, without in any way hindering theiradvance against our western shores, while the idea of attempting toprotect an isolated colony with a few ships against a great sea-powerwas perfectly ridiculous. The strong coast fortifications and a divisionof submarines--the two stationed there at the time, however, were reallynot fit for use--would have sufficed for the defense of Manila, andanything beyond that simply meant an unnecessary sacrifice of forceswhich might be far more useful elsewhere. 

After our fleet had been divided between the east and the west, both thePacific fleet and the reserve Atlantic fleet were individually farinferior to the Japanese fleet. The maintenance of a fleet in thePacific as well as of one in the Atlantic was a fatal luxury. It wassuperfluous to keep on tap a whole division of ships in our Atlanticharbors merely posing as maritime ornaments before the eyes of Europe orat the most coming in handy for an imposing demonstration against arefractory South-American Republic. All this could have been done justas well with a few cruisers. English money and Japanese intrigues, it istrue, succeeded in always keeping the Venezuelan wound open, so that wewere constantly obliged to steal furtive glances at that corner of theworld, one that had caused us so much political vexation. Matters hadindeed reached a sorry pass if our political prestige was so shaky, thatit was made to depend on Mr. Castro's valuation of the forces at thedisposal of the United States!

In consideration of the many unforeseen delays that had occurred in thework of digging the Panama Canal, there was only one policy for us toadopt until its completion, and that was to keep our fleet together andeither to concentrate it in the Pacific and thus deter the enemy fromattacking our coasts, regardless of what might be thought of our actionin Tokio, or to keep only a few cruisers in the Pacific, as formerly, and to concentrate the fleet in the Atlantic, so as to be able to attackthe enemy from the rear with the full force of our naval power. Butthese amateur commissioners of the public safety who wished to have animposing squadron on view wherever our flag floated--as if the Stars andStripes were a signal of distress instead of a token ofstrength--condemned our fleet to utter helplessness. In 1908, whenthere was no mistaking the danger, we, the American people, one of therichest and most energetic nations of the world, nevertheless allowedourselves in the course of the debate on the naval appropriations to befrightened by Senator Maine's threat of a deficit of a few dollars inour budget, should the sums that were absolutely needed in case ourfleet was to fulfill the most immediate national tasks be voted. Thiswas the short-sighted policy of a narrow-minded politician who, when acountry's fate is hanging in the balance, complains only of the costs. It was most assuredly a short-sighted policy, and we were compelled topay dearly for it. 

The voyage of our fleet around South America had shown the world thatthe value of a navy is not impaired because a few drunken sailorsoccasionally forget to return to their ship when in port: on thecontrary, foreign critics had been obliged to admit that our navy inpoint of equipment and of crews was second to none. And lo and behold, this remarkable exhibition of power--the only sensible idea evolved byour navy department in years--is followed by the insane dispersal of ourships to so many different stations. 

How foolish had it been, furthermore, to boast as we did about havingkept up communication with Washington by wireless during the whole ofour journey around South America. Had not the experience at Trinidad, where a wireless message intercepted by an English steamer had warnedthe coal-boats that our fleet would arrive a day sooner, taught us alesson? And had not the way in which the Japanese steamer, also providedwith a wireless apparatus, stuck to us so persistently betweenValparaiso and Callao shown us plainly that every new technicaldiscovery has its shady side?

No, we had learned nothing. In Washington they insisted on sending allorders from the Navy Department to the different harbors and navalstations by wireless, yet each of the stations along the whole distancefrom east to west provided possibilities of indiscretion and treacheryand of unofficial interception. Why had we not made wireless telegraphya government monopoly, instead of giving each inhabitant of the UnitedStates the right to erect an apparatus of his own if he so wished? Didit never occur to anybody in Washington that long before the orders ofthe Navy Department had reached Mare Island, Puget Sound and San Diegothey had been read with the greatest ease by hundreds of strangers? Itrequired the success of the enemy to make all this clear to us, when wemight just as well have listened to those who drew conclusions fromobvious facts and recommended caution. 

In spite of all this, the press on Tuesday morning still adhered to thehope that Admiral Perry would attack the enemy from the rear with histwelve battleships of the Pacific squadron, and that, meeting theJapanese at their base of operations, he would cut off all threads ofcommunication between San Francisco and Tokio. It was no longer possibleto warn Perry of his danger, since the wireless stations beyond theRockies were already in the enemy's hands. The American people couldtherefore only trust to luck; but blind chance has never yet saved acountry in its hour of direst need. It can only be saved by the energy, the steady eye and the strong hand of men. All hope centered in AdmiralPerry, in his energy and his courage, but the people became uneasy whenno answer was received to the oft-repeated question: "Where is thePacific fleet?" Yes, where was Admiral Perry?

_Chapter X_

ADMIRAL PERRY'S FATE

The wireless apparatus on board Admiral Perry's flag-ship, the_Connecticut_, rattled and crackled and on the strip of white paperslowly ejected by the Morse machine appeared the words: "Magdalen Bay toCommander-in-chief of Squadron, May 7, 8h. 25. A cruiser and twotorpedo-boats sighted four miles N. W. With course set towards MagdalenBay; uncertain whether friend or foe. Captain Pancoast. "

The man at the instrument tore off the duplicate of the strip and pastedit on the bulletin, touched the button of an electric bell and handedthe message to the signalman who answered the ring. The telephone bellrang directly afterwards and from the bridge came the order: "MagdalenBay to establish immediate connection by wireless with cruiser andtorpedoes; ascertain whether they belong to blue or yellow party. "

The officer ticked off the message at great speed. 

"This looks like bad weather, " he said to himself, while waiting for theanswer. The increased rocking of the ship showed that the sea wasgetting rougher. A black pencil, which had been lying in the cornerbetween the wall and the edge of the table, suddenly came to life andbegan rolling aimlessly about. The officer picked it up and drew a mapof the location of Magdalen Bay as far as he could remember it. "Fourmiles, " he murmured, "they ought to be able to identify the ships atthat distance with the aid of a glass. "

Suddenly the instrument began to buzz and rattle and amidst a dischargeof little electric sparks the strip of white paper began to move outslowly from beneath the letter roller. 

 "Magdalen Bay to Commander-in-chief of Squadron, May 7, 8 h. 53: Approaching cruiser, probably yellow armored cruiser _New York_; does not answer call. Captain Pancoast. "

The officer hadn't had time to get the message ready for the bridge, when the instrument again began to rattle madly:

"Take care of Kxj31mpTwB8d--951SR7--J, " warned the strip in its mutelanguage; then nothing further; complete silence reigned. "What doesthis mean?" said the officer, "this can't be all. "

He knocked on the coherer, then put in a new one: not a sign. He took athird, a fourth, he knocked and shook the instrument, but it remaineddumb. With his Morse-key he asked back:

"Magdalen Bay, repeat message!"

No answer. 

Then he asked: "Did you understand question?"

No answer. 

The signalman was standing beside him, and he handed him the messagewith the order to take it at once to the bridge; then he went to thetelephone and took off the receiver. "This is Sergeant Medlow. I've justreceived from Magdalen Bay the message now on the way to the bridge:'Take care of--' then the connection was cut off. .. . All right, sir. "

Two minutes later an excited lieutenant rushed in crying: "What's thematter with the apparatus?"

"It won't work, sir; it stopped in the middle of a sentence. "

"Take a new coherer!"

"I've tried four. "

They both tapped the coherer, but nothing happened. All questionsremained unanswered, and they seemed to be telegraphing into space. 

"Probably a breakdown, " said the lieutenant naïvely. 

"Yes, sir, probably a breakdown, " repeated Medlow; and then he was aloneonce more. 

 * * * * *

The officer on duty on the bridge of the _Connecticut_ had informedCaptain Farlow, commander of the ship, of the latest messages fromMagdalen Bay, and when he now appeared on the bridge in company withAdmiral Perry, the officer held out the two bulletins. The admiralstudied them thoughtfully and murmured: "_New York_, it's true shebelongs to the yellow fleet, but what brings her to Magdalen Bay?Admiral Crane cannot possibly be so far to the southeast with hissquadron, for the latest news from our outposts led us to believe thathe intended to attack us from the west. "

"But he may be going to surprise Magdalen Bay, Admiral, " said CaptainFarlow. 

"Perhaps, " replied the Admiral, rather sharply, "but will you tell mewhat for? There are only two torpedo-boats at Magdalen Bay, and todestroy a wireless station from which there are no messages to be sentwould be a rather silly thing for an overzealous commander of the yellowfleet to do. And besides we have special orders from Washington to drawMagdalen Bay as little as possible into the maneuvers, so as to avoidall unpleasantness with Mexico and not to attract the attention offoreigners to the importance which the bay would assume in case of war. "

A lieutenant stepped up to Captain Farlow and reported, saluting: "Allattempts to establish connection with Magdalen Bay have failed. "

"Well, let it go, " grumbled Admiral Perry, "Crane seems to have deprivedus of Magdalen Bay, but the commander of the _New York_ will reap a finereprimand from Washington for this. "

With these words Admiral Perry left the bridge, steadying himself byholding on to the railing on both sides of the steps, as the sea wasbecoming rougher every minute. 

The increasing northeast wind tore through the rigging, whistled in thewires, howled through all the openings, screamed its bad temper down thecompanionways, pulled savagely at the gun-covers and caused the longcopper-wires belonging to the wireless apparatus to snap like hugewhips. The bluish-gray waves broke with a hollow sound against the sidesof the six battleships of the _Connecticut_ class, which were runningabreast in a northwesterly direction through the dreary watery wastes ofthe Pacific at the rate of ten knots an hour. 

There was a high sea on. A barometric depression that was quite unusualin these sunny latitudes at that particular time of year had broughtnasty weather in its train. During the night violent rain-storms hadflooded the decks. Now the wind freshened and swept low-hanging cloudsbefore it. The sharp white bow of the _Connecticut_ with the pressure of16, 000 tons of steel behind it plowed its way through the water, throwing up a hissing foaming wave on each side. The wind lashed thewaves on the starboard-side so that they splashed over the forepart ofthe cruiser like a shower of rain, enveloping it in a gray mist. Thethick, black smoke pouring out of the three long funnels was blownobliquely down to the edge of the water and hung there like a thickcloud which shut off the western horizon and made the passage of thesquadron visible a long distance off. The small openings in thecasemates of the armored guns had been closed up long before, becausethe waves had begun to wash over them, and even the turrets on the upperdeck had received a few heavy showers which had flooded their interiors. It was indeed nasty weather. 

Captain Farlow had taken up his stand on the upper conning-tower of the_Connecticut_ the better to examine the horizon with his glass, but athick curtain of rain rendered it almost invisible. 

"Nothing to be seen of our cruisers, " he said to the navigating officerof the squadron, "this is disgusting weather for maneuvers. "

Then he gave the command to telephone across to the two leading cruisers_California_ and _Colorado_ and ask if, on account of the thick weather, they required the assistance of two small cruisers in order to besufficiently protected against the yellow fleet?

The commander of the _California_ answered in the affirmative and askedthat the three destroyers in the van, which had all they could do tomaintain their course in such a heavy sea, and were therefore of littleuse in their present position, be recalled and replaced by two cruisers. 

The admiral recalled the three destroyers by a wireless signal andordered them to take up their position in the rear beside the otherthree destroyers and to assist in protecting the rear of the squadron. At the same time he strengthened his front line by sending the cruisers_Galveston_ and _Chattanooga_, which had formed the port and starboardflank, respectively, to the van. His advance, consisting now of the twolast-named cruisers and the two armored cruisers, proceeded in a flatwedge formation, while the cruiser _Denver_ to starboard and the_Cleveland_ to port, at a distance of three knots from the squadron, established the connection between the van and the rather dubiousrear-guard of destroyers, which could scarcely do much in such weather. 

The _Galveston_ and _Chattanooga_, both pouring forth clouds of smoke, quickly assumed their positions at the head of the line. 

Captain Farlow paced restlessly up and down the bridge in his oilskins. "I suppose this is the last remnant of the spring storms, " he said tohis navigating officer, "but it's a good-sized one. If we didn't have afairly good formation the yellow fleet could play us a nasty trick bytaking us by surprise in such weather. "

"A wireless message from the cruiser _California_, " said a lieutenant, handing it to the captain, who read:

"_Chattanooga_ and _Galveston_ stationed on right and left flanks ofadvance guard; _Denver_ and _Cleveland_ establish connection betweenlatter and squadron. No sign of yellow fleet. "

Just then an orderly appeared and requested Captain Farlow to report toAdmiral Perry. 

The squadron continued on its way. The northeast wind increased, drivingblack scurrying clouds before it which swept across the foaming wavesand suddenly enveloped everything in glimmering darkness. The rainpoured down on the decks in sheets and everything was swimming in asplashing flood. What with the downpour of the rain and the splashing ofthe waves, it was often impossible for the lookouts to see a yard ahead. Added to all this was a disagreeable sticky, humid heat. It was surelymore comfortable below deck. 

 * * * * *

"What do you think of this Magdalen Bay affair?" asked the admiral ofthe captain as the latter entered the admiral's cabin; "it is worryingme considerably. "

"In my opinion, " was the answer, "it's a piece of crass stupidity onthe part of the commander of the _New York_. It is all nonsense to playsuch tricks with a country where we are not particularly welcome guestsat any time, in spite of all the diplomatic courtesies of Porfirio Díaz. The gentlemen over in Tokio have every movement of ours in the baywatched by their many spies, and their diplomatic protests are alwaysready. "

"Certainly, " said the admiral, "certainly, but our maneuvers aresupposed to reflect actual war, and--between ourselves--there's no doubtbut that we should treat Magdalen Bay in time of war just as though itwere American soil. "

"In time of war, yes, " answered the captain eagerly, "but it's foolishto show our hand in a maneuver, in time of peace. Even if we do act asthough Magdalen Bay belonged to us, whereas in reality we have only beenpermitted to use it as a coaling-station and had no right to erect awireless station as we did, it is nevertheless inexcusable to use thatparticular spot for maneuver operations. If it once becomes known inMexico, the diplomats there, who are always dying of ennui, will maketrouble at once, and as we don't suffer from a surplus of good friendsat any time, we ought to avoid every opportunity of giving them adiplomatic lever through maneuver blunders. "

"Then the best plan, " said the admiral in a thoughtful tone, "would beto report the circumstances to Washington at once, and suggest to themthat it would be advisable to represent the attack on Magdalen Bay asthe result of too much zeal on the part of a poorly posted commander andto apologize to Mexico for the mistake. "

"That would certainly be the correct thing to do, " answered Farlow, adding, "for when we do have our reckoning with the yellow. .. . "

Here the telephone bell in the cabin rang madly and Captain Farlowjumped up to answer it; but in his excitement he had forgotten all aboutthe rolling of the ship, and consequently stumbled and slipped along thefloor to the telephone. The admiral could not help smiling, but at oncetransformed the smile into a frown when the door opened to admit anorderly, who was thus also a witness of Captain Farlow's sliding party. The latter picked himself up with a muttered oath and went to thetelephone. 

"What, " he shouted, "what's that, Higgins? You must be crazy, man!Admiral Crane's fleet, the yellow fleet? It's impossible, we've got ourscouts out on all sides!"

Then he turned halfway round to the admiral, saying: "The navigator isseeing ghosts, sir; he reports that Admiral Crane with the yellow fleethas been sighted to windward three knots off!" He hurried towards thedoor and there ran plumb against the orderly, whom he asked sharply:"What are you doing here?"

"The navigator, Lieutenant Higgins, reports that several ships have beensighted to starboard three miles ahead. Lieutenant Higgins thinks. .. . "

"Lieutenant Higgins thinks, of course, that it is Admiral Crane's yellowfleet, " snarled Farlow. 

"Yes, sir, " answered the orderly, "the yellow fleet, " and stared inastonishment at the commander of the _Connecticut_, who, followed byAdmiral Perry, rushed up the stairs. 

"Oh, my oilskins!. .. " With this exclamation the commander reached thetop of the staircase leading to the bridge deck, where a violent rush ofgreenish-gray water from a particularly enormous wave drenched him fromhead to foot. 

"Now, then, Mr. Higgins, " he called, wiping the water from his eyes andmustache, "where is the yellow fleet?"

The navigator was staring out to sea through his glass trying topenetrate the thick veil of rain. The storm howled and showers of foamburst over the decks of the _Connecticut_, the water washing overeverything with a dull roar. 

Captain Farlow had no need to inquire further. That was Admiral Craneand his yellow fleet sure enough!

The silhouettes of six large battleships looking like phantom-shipsrising from the depths of the boiling ocean could be plainly seenthrough the rain and waves about six thousand yards to starboard of the_Connecticut_. 

"Clear ships for action!" commanded the captain. The navigator andanother lieutenant hurried to the telephones and transmitted the order. The flag lieutenant of the squadron rushed to the telephone leading tothe wireless room, and ordered a message forwarded to all of the shipsof the squadron to proceed at full speed. For safety's sake the orderwas repeated by means of flag signals. 

While from the bridge the officers were watching the gray phantoms ofthe strange armored fleet, it continued calmly on its course. Theleading ship threw up great masses of foam like huge explodingfountains, which covered the bow with showers of gray water. 

In a few minutes things began to get lively within the steel body of the_Connecticut_. The sounds of shrill bugle-calls, of the loud ringing ofbells, of excited calls and a hurried running to and fro, came up frombelow. 

In the midst of the water pouring over the deck appeared the sailors intheir white uniforms. They at once removed the gun-coverings, whilepeculiarly shrill commands resounded above the roar of the wind and thewaves. 

Great quantities of thick, black smoke poured from the yellowish brownfunnels, to be immediately seized and broken up by the wind. The reservesignalmen for duty on the bridge as well as the fire-control detail tookup their positions. 

One lieutenant climbed hastily up into the military top of the foremast. Two other officers and a few midshipmen followed him as far as theplatform above the conning-tower, where the instruments connected withthe fire-control were kept. Orderlies came and went with messages. Allthis was the work of a few minutes. Captain Farlow was inwardlydelighted that everything should have gone off so well before theadmiral. Now the other ships reported that they were clear for action. Just as the bright ensigns were being run to the mastheads, the sunbroke through the black clouds for a moment. The six monster shipscontinued on their way in the sunlight like sliding masses of whiteiron, with their long yellowish brown funnels emitting clouds of smokeand their rigid masts pointing upward into the angry sky. The sunshinemade the deck structures sparkle with thousands of glistening drops fora brief moment; then the sun disappeared and the majestic picture wasswallowed up once more by the gray clouds. 

"Shall we go up to the conning-tower?" inquired the flag lieutenant ofthe admiral. 

"Oh, no, we'll stay here, " said the latter, carefully examining theyellow fleet through his glass. "Can you make out which ship the firstone is?" he asked. 

"I think it's the _Iowa_, " said the commander, who was standing nearhim. But the wind tore the words from his lips. 

"What did you say?" screamed back the admiral. 

"_Iowa_, " repeated Farlow. 

"No such thing, the _Iowa_ is much smaller and has only one mast. Theship over there also has an additional turret in the center. "

"No, it's not the _Iowa_, " corroborated the captain, "but two funnels. .. What ship can it be. .. ?"

"Those ships are painted gray, too, not white like ours. It's not theyellow fleet at all, " interrupted the admiral, "it's, it's--my God, whatis it?"

He examined the ships again and saw numerous little flags running up themast of the leading ship, undoubtedly a signal, then the forward turretwith its two enormously long gun-barrels swung slowly over to starboard, the other turrets turned at the same time, and then a tongue of flameshot out of the mouths of both barrels in the forward turret; the windquickly dispersed the cloud of smoke, and three seconds later a shellburst with a fearful noise on the deck of the _Connecticut_ between thebase of the bridge and the first gun-turret, throwing the splintersright on the bridge and tearing off the head of the lieutenant who wasdoing duty at the signal apparatus. The second shell hit the armoredplate right above the openings for the two 12-inch guns in thefore-turret, leaving behind a great hole with jagged edges out of whichburst sheets of flame and clouds of smoke, which were blown away in longstrips by the wind. A heartrending scream from within followed thisexplosion of the cartridges lying in readiness beside the guns. Theforward turret had been put out of action. 

For several seconds everyone on the bridge seemed dazed, while thoughtsraced through their heads with lightning-like rapidity. 

Could it be chance. .. ? Impossible, for in the same moment that the twoshots were fired by the leading ship, the whole fleet opened fire onAdmiral Perry's squadron with shells of all calibers. The admiralseized Farlow's arm and shook it to and fro in a blind rage. 

"Those, " he cried, "those . .. Why, man, those are the Japanese! That'sthe enemy and he has surprised us right in the midst of peace! Now Godgive me a clear head, and let us never forget that we are American men!"He scarcely heard the words of the flag lieutenant who called out tohim: "That's the Japanese _Satsuma_, Togo's _Satsuma_!"

The admiral reached the telephone-board in one bound and yelled down theartillery connection: "Hostile attack!. .. Japanese. We've beensurprised!"

And it was indeed high time, for scarcely had the admiral reached theconning-tower, stumbling over the dead body of a signalman on the way, when a hail-storm of bullets swept the bridge, killing all who were onit. 

As there was no other officer near, Captain Farlow went to the signalinginstrument himself to send the admiral's orders to those below deck. 

The _Connecticut_, which had been without a helmsman for a momentbecause the man at the helm had been killed by a bursting shell that hadliterally forced his body between the spokes of the wheel, was swayingabout like a drunken person owing to the heavy blows of the enemy'sshells. Now she recovered her course and the commander issued his ordersfrom the bridge in a calm and decisive voice. 

We have seen what a paralyzing effect the opening of fire from theJapanese ships had had on the commander and officers of the_Connecticut_ on the bridge, and the reader can imagine the effect itmust have had on the crew--they were dumfounded with terror. Thecrashing of the heavy steel projectiles above deck, the explosion in theforeward gun-turret, and several shots which had passed through theunarmored starboard side of the forepart of the ship in rapidsuccession--they were explosive shells which created fearful havoc andfilled all the rooms with the poisonous gases of the Shimose-powder--allthis, added to the continual ring of the alarm-signals, had completelyrobbed the crew below deck of their senses and of all deliberation. 

At first it was thought to be an accident, and without waiting fororders from above, the fire-extinguishing apparatus was got ready. Butthe bells continued to ring on all sides, and the crashing blows thatshook the ship continually became worse and worse. On top of this camethe perfectly incomprehensible news that, unprepared as they were, theywere confronted by the enemy, by a Japanese fleet. 

All this happened with lightning-like rapidity--so quickly, indeed, thatit was more than human nerves could grasp and at the same time remaincalm and collected. The reverberations of the bursting shells and thedull rumbling crashes against the armored sides of the casemates andturrets produced an infernal noise which completely drowned the humanvoice. Frightful horror was depicted on all faces. It took some time torally from the oppressive, heartrending sensation caused by theknowledge that a peaceful maneuver voyage had suddenly been transformedinto the bloody seriousness of war. It is easy enough to turn a machinefrom right to left in a few seconds with the aid of a lever, but not soa human being. 

The men, to be sure, heard the commands and after a few moments'reflection, grasped the terrible truth, but their limbs failed them. Ithad all come about too quickly, and it was simply impossible to getcontrol of the situation and translate commands into deeds as quickly asthe hostile shots demolished things above deck. Many of the crew stoodaround as though they were rooted to the spot, staring straight in frontof them. Some laughed or cried, others did absolutely senseless things, such as turning the valves of the hot-air pipes or carrying uselessthings from one place to another, until the energetic efforts of theofficers brought them to their senses. 

Someone called for the keys of the ammunition chambers, and then began asearch for the ordnance officer in the passages filled with thepoisonous fumes of the Shimose-powder. But it was all in vain, for helay on the front bridge torn into an unrecognizable mass by the enemy'sshells. 

At last a young lieutenant with the blood pouring down his cheek inbright red streaks, rushed into the captain's cabin, broke open thecloset beside the desk with a bayonet and seized the keys of theammunition rooms. Now down the stairs and through the narrow openings inthe bulkheads, where the thud of the hostile projectiles sounds more andmore hollow, and here, at last, is the door of the shell-chambercontaining the shells for the 8-inch guns in the forward starboardturret. 

Inside the bells rang and rattled, calling in vain for ammunition; butthe guns of the _Connecticut_ still remained silent. 

The petty officer, hurrying on before his three men, now stood at thetelephone. 

"Armor-piercing shells, quickly!" came the urgent order from above. Andwhen the electric lever refused to work, the two sailors raised theshell weighing over two hundredweight in their brawny arms and shoved itinto the frame of the lift, which began to move automatically. 

"Thank God, " said the lieutenant in command of the turret, as the firstshell appeared at the mouth of the dark tube. Into the breech with itand the two cartridges after it. When the lieutenant had taken hisposition at the telescope sight in order to determine the direction anddistance for firing, orders came down from the commander to fire at theenemy's leading ship, the _Satsuma_. The distance was only 2800 yards, so near had the enemy come. And at this ridiculously short distance, contrary to all the rules of naval warfare, the Americans opened fire. 

"2800 yards, to the right beneath the first gun-turret of the_Satsuma_, " called the lieutenant to the two gunners. They took theelevation and then waited for the ship that was rolling to port toregain the level after being lifted up by the waves. Detached cloudshurried across the field of the telescope, but suddenly the sun appearedlike a bright spot above the horizon and dark brown smoke becamevisible. The foremast of the _Satsuma_ with its multicoloredsignal-flags appeared in the field of vision. .. . A final quickcorrection for elevation . .. A slight pressure of the electric trigger. Fire! The gray silhouette of the _Satsuma_, across which quivered theflash from the gun, rose quickly in the round field; then came foaming, plunging waves, and columns of water that rose up as the shells struckthe water. 

The loud reverberation of the shot--the first one fired on the Americanside--acted as a nerve-tonic all round, and all felt as though they hadbeen relieved from an intolerable burden. 

While the right gun was being reloaded and the stinking gases escapingfrom the gun filled the narrow chamber with their fumes, the lieutenantlooked for traces of the effect of the shot. The wind whistled throughthe peep-hole and made his eyes smart. The shot did not seem to havetouched the _Satsuma_ at all. The foam seen in the bow was that producedby the ship's motion. 

"Two hundred and fifty yards over, " came through the telephone, and onthe glass-plate of the distance-register, faintly illuminated by anelectric lamp, appeared the number 2550. 

"2550 yards!" repeated the lieutenant to the captain of the left gun, giving the angle of direction himself. The _Connecticut_ again heavedover to port, and the thunder of cannon rolled over the waves of thePacific. 

"The shell burst at a thousand yards!" called the lieutenant. "Whatmiserable fuses!"

"Bad shot, " came down reproachfully through the telephone, "usepercussion fuses. "

"I am, but they're no good, they won't work, " roared back thelieutenant. Then he went down into the turret and examined the new shellon the lift before it was pushed into the breech. 

"All right, " he said aloud, but added under his breath, suppressing anoath: "We mustn't let the men notice there's anything wrong, for theworld!"

Another shot rang out, and again the shell burst a few hundred yardsfrom the _Connecticut_, sending the water flying in every direction. 

Again came the reproachful voice from above: "Bad shot, take percussionfuses!"

"That's what these are supposed to be, " replied the lieutenant in aterrible state of excitement; "the shells are absolutely useless. "

"Fire at the forepart of the _Satsuma_ with shrapnel, " rang out thecommand from the wall. 

"Shrapnels from below!" ordered the lieutenant, and "shrapnels frombelow" was repeated by the man at the lift into the 'phone leading tothe ammunition chamber. 

But the lift continued to bring up the blue armor-piercing shells; fivetimes more and then it stopped. 

During a momentary pause in the firing on both sides, the buzzing andwhirring of the electric apparatus of the lift could be distinctlyheard. Then the lift appeared once more, this time with a red explosiveshell. 

"Aim at the forepart of the _Satsuma_, 1950 yards!"

The _Connecticut_ rolled over heavily to starboard, the water splashedover the railing, rushing like a torrent between the turrets; then theship heeled over to the other side. The shot rang out. 

"At last, " cried the lieutenant proudly, pointing through the peep-hole. High up in the side of the _Satsuma_, close to the little 12-cm. Quick-firing gun, a piece was seen to be missing when the smoke from thebursting shell had disappeared. 

"Good shot, " came from above; "go on firing with shrapnel!"

The distance-register silently showed the number 1850. Then came adeafening roar from below and the sharp ring of tearing iron. A hostileshell had passed obliquely below the turret into the forepart of the_Connecticut_, and clouds of thick black smoke completely obscured theview through the peep-hole. 

"Four degrees higher!" commanded the lieutenant. 

"Not yet correct, " he grumbled; "three degrees higher still!" He waitedfor the _Connecticut_ to roll to port. 

"What's the matter?"

"Use higher elevation in turrets. The _Connecticut_ has a leak and islisting to starboard, " said the telephone. "Three degrees higher!"ordered the lieutenant. 

A shot from the left barrel. 

"Splendid, " cried the lieutenant; "that was a fine shot! But lower, lower, we're merely shooting their upper plates to bits, " and the gunwent on steadily firing. 

The turrets on the starboard side were hit again and again, the hostileshells bursting perpetually against their armored sides. As if struck byelectric discharges the gunners were continually thrown back from therumbling walls, and they were almost deaf from the fearful din, so thatall commands had to be yelled out at the top of the lungs. 

The raging storm and the rough sea prevented the Americans from using apart of their guns. While the explosive shells from the enemy's heavyintermediate battery were able to demolish everything on deck and topass through the unarmored portions of the sides, working fearful havocin the interior and among the crew, the light American secondary batterywas compelled to keep silence. 

An attempt had been made, to be sure, to bring the 7-inch guns intoaction, but it proved of no avail. The gunners stood ready at theirposts to discharge the shells at the enemy, but it was utterlyimpossible, for no sooner had they taken aim, than they lost it again asthe hostile ships disappeared in the foaming glassy-green waves thatbroke against their sides. The water penetrated with the force of astream from a nozzle through the cracks in the plates and poured intothe casemates till the men were standing up to their knees in water. Atlast the only thing that could be done was to open the doors behind theguns in order to let the water out; but this arrangement had thedisadvantage of allowing a good deal of the water which had run out toreturn in full force and pile up in one corner the next time the shiprolled over, and on account of this perpetual battle with the wavesoutside and the rolling water inside, it was impossible for the men toaim properly or to achieve any results with their shots. It wastherefore deemed best to stop the firing here, and to have the gunnersrelieve the men at the turret-guns, who had suffered greatly from theenemy's fire. The men in charge of the completely demolished small gunson the upper deck had already been assigned to similar duty. 

We therefore had to depend entirely on our 12-inch and 8-inch guns inthe turrets, while the enemy was able to bring into action all hisbroadside guns on the starboard side, which was only little affected bythe storm. And this superiority had been used to such advantage in thefirst eleven minutes of the battle, before the surprised Americans couldreply, that the decks of the latter's ships, especially of the admiral'sflag-ship, were a mass of wreckage even before the first American shothad been fired. The decks were strewn with broken bridges, planks, stanchions and torn rigging, and into the midst of this chaos now fellthe tall funnels and pieces of the steel masts. In most instances thewater continually pouring over the decks put out the fires; but the_Vermont_ was nevertheless burning aft and the angry flames could beseen bursting out of the gaping holes made by the shells. 

Admiral Perry, in company with the commander and staff-officers, watchedthe progress of the battle from the conning-tower. The officers on dutyat the odometers calmly furnished the distance between their ship andthe enemy to the turrets and casemates, and the lieutenant in command ofthe fire-control on the platform above the conning-tower coolly andlaconically reported the results of the shots, at the same time givingthe necessary corrections, which were at once transmitted to the variousturrets by telephone. The rolling of the ships in the heavy seas madeoccasional pauses in the firing absolutely necessary. 

The report that a series of shells belonging to the 8-inch guns in thefront turret had unreliable fuses led to considerable swearing in theconning-tower, but while the officers were still cursing the commissionfor accepting such useless stuff, a still greater cause for anxietybecame apparent. 

Even before the Americans had begun their fire, the Japanese shells hadmade a few enormous holes in the unprotected starboard side of the_Connecticut_, behind the stem and just above the armored belt, andthrough these the water poured in and flooded all the inner chambers. Asthe armored gratings above the hatchways leading below had also beendestroyed or had not yet been closed, several compartments in theforepart of the ship filled with water. The streams of water continuallypouring in through the huge holes rendered it impossible to enter therooms beneath the armored deck or to close the hatchways. The pumpsavailed nothing, but fortunately the adjacent bulkheads proved to bewatertight. Nevertheless the _Connecticut_ buried her nose deep into thesea and thereby offered ever-increasing resistance to the oncomingwaves. Captain Farlow therefore ordered some of the watertightcompartments aft to be filled with water in order to restore the ship'sbalance. Similar conditions were reported from other ships. 

But scarcely had this damage been thus fairly well adjusted, when a newmisfortune was reported. Two Japanese projectiles had struck the shipsimultaneously just below her narrow armor-belt as she heaved over toport, the shells entering the unprotected side just in front of theengine-rooms, and as the adjacent bulkheads could not offer sufficientresistance to the pressure of the inpouring water, they were forced in, and as a result the _Connecticut_ heeled over badly to starboard, makingit necessary to fill some of the port compartments with water, since theguns could not otherwise obtain the required elevation. This caused theship to sink deeper and deeper, until the armor-belt was entirely belowthe standard waterline and the water which had rushed in through themany holes had already reached the passageways above the armored deck. The splashing about in these rushing floods, the continual bursting ofthe enemy's shells, the groans and moans of the wounded, and the vainattempts to get out the collision-mats on the starboardside--precautions that savored of preservation measures while at thesame time causing a great loss of life--all this began to impair thecrew's powers of resistance. 

As the reports from below grew more and more discouraging, CaptainFarlow sent Lieutenant Meade down to examine into the state of thechambers above the armored deck. The latter asked his comrade, Curtis, to take his place at the telephone, but receiving no answer, he lookedaround, and saw poor Curtis with his face torn off by a piece of shellstill bending over his telephone between two dead signalmen. .. . Lieutenant Meade turned away with a shiver, and, calling a midshipman totake his place, he left the conning-tower, which was being struckcontinually by hissing splinters from bursting shells. 

Everywhere below the same picture presented itself--rushing watersplashing high up against the walls in all the passages, through whichambulance transports were making their way with difficulty. In a cornernot far from the staircase leading to the hospital lay a youngmidshipman, Malion by name, pressing both hands against a gaping woundin his abdomen, out of which the viscera protruded, and crying to someone to put him out of his misery with a bullet. What an end to a brightyoung life! Anything but think! One could only press on, for individuallives and human suffering were of small moment here compared with theportentous question whether the steel sides of the ship and the engineswould hold out. 

"Shoot me; deliver me from my torture!" rang out the cry of thelieutenant's dying friend behind him; and there before him, rightagainst the wall, lay the sailor Ralling, that fine chap from Marylandwho was one of the men who had won the gig-race at Newport News; now hestared vacantly into space, his mouth covered with blood and foam. "Shotin the lung!" thought Meade, hurrying on and trying, oh so hard, not tothink!

[Illustration: "It went up in a slanting direction and then, . .. Itsteered straight for the enemy's balloon. .. . "]

The black water gurgled and splashed around his feet as he rushed on, dashing with a hollow sound against one side of the passage when theship heeled over, only to be tossed back in a moment with equal force. 

What was that?--Lieutenant Meade had reached the officers' mess--was itmusic or were his ears playing him a trick? Meade opened the door andthought at first he must be dreaming. There sat his friend and comrade, Lieutenant Besser, at the piano, hammering wildly on the keys. That sameJohnny Besser who, on account of his theological predilections went bythe nickname of "The Reverend, " and who could argue until long aftermidnight over the most profound Biblical problems, that same JohnnyBesser, who was perpetually on the water-wagon. There he sat, bangingaway as hard as he could on the piano! Meade rushed at him angrily andseizing him by the arm cried: "Johnny, what are you doing here? Are youcrazy?"

Johnny took no notice of him whatever, but went on playing and began ina strange uncanny voice to sing the old mariner's song:

 "Tom Brown's mother she likes whisky in her tea, As we go rolling home. Glory, Glory Hallelujah. "

Horror seized Meade, and he tried to pull Johnny away from the piano, but the resistance offered by the poor fellow who had become mentallyderanged from sheer terror was too great, and he had to give up thestruggle. 

From the outside came the din of battle. Meade threw the door of themess shut behind him, shivering with horror. Once more he heard thestrains of "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah, " and then he hurried upstairs. Hekept the condition in which he had found Johnny to himself. 

When Lieutenant Meade got back to the conning-tower to make his report, the two fleets had passed each other in a parallel course. The enemy'sshells had swept the decks of the _Connecticut_ with the force of ahurricane. The gunners from the port side had already been called on tofill up the gaps in the turrets on the starboard side. By this time deadbodies were removed only where they were in the way, and even thewounded were left to lie where they had fallen. 

When large pieces of wood from the burning boats began to be thrown ondeck by the bursting shells, a fresh danger was created, and the attemptwas made to toss them overboard with the aid of the cranes. But thissucceeded only on the port side. The starboard crane was smashed to bitsby a Japanese explosive shell just as it was raising a launch, the sameshot carrying off the third funnel just behind it. When Togo's last shiphad left the _Connecticut_ behind, only one funnel full of gaping holesand half of the mainmast were left standing on the deck of the admiral'sflag-ship, which presented a wild chaos of bent and broken ironwork. Through the ruins of the deck structures rose the flames and thick smokefrom the boilers. 

The Japanese ships seemed to be invulnerable in their vital parts. It istrue that the _Satsuma_ had lost a funnel, and that both masts of the_Kashima_ were broken off, but except for a few holes above thearmor-belt and one or two guns that had been put out of action and thebarrels of which pointed helplessly into the air, the enemy showedlittle sign of damage. Those first eleven minutes, during which theenemy had had things all to himself, had given him an advantage which noamount of bravery or determined energy could counteract. In addition tothis, many of the American telescope-sights began to get out of order, as they bent under the blows of the enemy's shells against the turrets. Thus the aim of the Americans, which owing to the heavy seas and to thesmoke from the Japanese guns blown into their eyes by the wind was poorenough as it was, became more uncertain still. As the enemy passed, several torpedoes had been cleared by the Americans, but the shiningmetal-fish could not keep their course against the oncoming waves, andAdmiral Perry was forced to notify his ships by wireless to desist fromfurther attempts to use them, in order that his own ships might not beendangered by them. 

The enemy, on the contrary, used his torpedoes with better success. Agreat mass of boiling foam rose suddenly beside the _Kansas_, which wasjust heeling to port, and this was followed immediately by sheets offlame and black clouds of smoke which burst from every hole and crevicein the sides and the turrets. The _Kansas_ listed heavily to starboardand then disappeared immediately in the waves. The torpedo must haveexploded in an ammunition chamber. On the burning _Vermont_ thesteering-gear seemed to be out of order. The battleship sheered sharplyto port, thus presenting its stern, which was almost hidden in heavyclouds of smoke, to the enemy, who immediately raked and tore it withshells. The _Minnesota_ was drifting in a helpless condition with herstarboard-railing deep under water, while thick streams of water pouredfrom her bilge-pumps on the port side. She gradually fell behind, whereupon the last ship of the line, the _New Hampshire_, passed her onthe fire side, covering her riddled hull for a moment, but then steamedon to join the only two ships in Admiral Perry's fleet which were stillin fairly good condition, namely the _Connecticut_ and the _Louisiana_. 

When the hostile fleet began to fall slowly back--the battle had been inprogress for barely half an hour--Admiral Perry hoped for a moment thatby swinging his three ships around to starboard he would be able to getto windward of the enemy and thus succeed in bringing his almost intactport artillery into action. But even before he could issue his commands, he saw the six Japanese ironclads turn to port and steam towards theAmericans at full speed, pouring out tremendous clouds of smoke. Misfortunes never come singly; at this moment came the report that theboilers of the _New Hampshire_ had been badly damaged. Unless theadmiral wished to leave the injured ship to her fate, he was now forcedto reduce the speed of the other two ships to six knots. This was thebeginning of the end. 

It was of no use for Admiral Perry to swing his three ships around tostarboard. The enemy, owing to his superior speed, could always keep aparallel course and remain on the starboard side. One turret after theother was put out of action. When the casemate with its three intact7-inch guns could at last be brought into play on the lee-side, it wastoo late. At such close quarters the steel-walls of the casemates andthe mountings were shot to pieces by the enemy's shells. Thefire-control refused to act, the wires and speaking-tubes weredestroyed, and each gun had to depend on itself. The electricinstallation had been put out of commission on the _Louisiana_ by ashell bursting through the armored deck and destroying the dynamos. Asthe gun-turrets could no longer be swung around and the ammunition-liftshad come to a stand-still in consequence, the _Louisiana_ was reduced toa helpless wreck. She sank in the waves at 11. 15, and shortly afterwardsthe _New Hampshire_, which was already listing far to starboard becausethe water had risen above the armored deck, capsized. By 12. 30 the_Connecticut_ was the sole survivor. She continued firing from the12-inch guns in the rear turret and from the two 8-inch starboardturrets. 

At this point a large piece of shell slipped through the peep-hole ofthe conning-tower and smashed its heavy armored dome. The next shotmight prove fatal. Admiral Perry was compelled to leave the spot he hadmaintained so bravely; in a hail of splinters he at last managed toreach the steps leading from the bridge; they were wet with the blood ofthe dead and dying and the last four had been shot away altogether. Theother mode of egress, the armored tube inside the turret, was stopped upwith the bodies of two dead signalmen. The admiral let himself carefullydown by holding on to the bent railing of the steps, and was just intime to catch the blood-covered body of his faithful comrade, CaptainFarlow, who had been struck by a shell as he stood on the lowest step. The admiral leaned the body gently against the side of themilitary-mast, which had been dyed yellow by the deposits of the hostileshells. 

Stepping over smoldering ruins and through passages filled with dead andwounded men, over whose bodies the water splashed and gurgled, theadmiral at last reached his post below the armored deck. 

To this spot were brought the reports from the fire-control stationed atthe rear mast and from the last active stations. It was a mournfulpicture that the admiral received here of the condition of the_Connecticut_. The dull din of battle, the crashing and rumbling of thehostile shells, the suffocating smoke which penetrated even here below, the rhythmic groaning of the engine and the noise of the pumps wereunited here into an uncanny symphony. The ventilators had to be closed, as they sent down biting smoke from the burning deck instead of freshair. The nerves of the officers and crews were in a state of fearfultension; they had reached the point where nothing matters and wheredestruction is looked forward to as a deliverance. 

Who was that beside the admiral who said something about the white flag, to him, the head of the squadron, to the man who had been intrusted withthe honor of the Stars and Stripes? It was only a severely woundedpetty-officer murmuring to himself in the wild delirium of fever. ForGod's sake, anything but that! The admiral turned around sharply andcalled into the tube leading to the stern turret: "Watch over the flag;it must not be struck!"

No one answered--dead iron, dead metal, not a human sound could be heardin that steel tomb. And now some of the electric lights suddenly wentout. "I won't die here in this smoky steel box, " said the admiral tohimself; "I won't drown here like a mouse in a trap. " There was nothingmore to be done down here anyway, for most of the connections had beencut off, and so Admiral Perry turned over the command of the_Connecticut_ to a young lieutenant with the words: "Keep them firing aslong as you can. " Then murmuring softly to himself, "It's of no useanyhow, " he crept through a narrow bulkhead-opening to a stairway andgroped his way up step by step. Suddenly he touched something soft andwarm; it groaned loudly. Heavens! it was a sailor who had dragged hisshattered limbs into this corner. "Poor fellow, " said the admiral, andclimbed up, solitary and alone, to the deck of his lost ship. The dinof battle sounded louder and louder, and at last he reached the deckbeneath the rear bridge. A badly wounded signalman was leaning against abit of railing that had remained standing, staring at the admiral withvacant eyes. "Are the signal-halyards still clear?" asked Perry. "Yes, "answered the man feebly. 

"Then signal at once: Three cheers for the United States!" The littlecolored flags flew up to the yardarm like lightning, and it grew quieton the _Connecticut_. 

The last shell, the last cartridge was shoved into the breech, one moreshot was aimed at the enemy from the heated barrels, and then all wasstill except for the crash of the hostile projectiles, the crackling ofthe flames and the howling of the wind. The other side, too, graduallyceased firing. With the _Satsuma_ and the _Aki_ in the van and the fourother ships following, the enemy's squadron advanced, enveloped in athin veil of smoke. 

High up in the stern of the _Connecticut_ and at her mastheads waved thetattered Stars and Stripes. The few gunners, who had served the guns tothe end, crept out of the turrets and worked their way up over brokensteps. There were fifty-seven of them, all that remained of the proudsquadron. Three cheers for their country came from the parched throatsof these last heroes of the _Connecticut_. "Three cheers for the UnitedStates!" Admiral Perry drew his sword, and "Hurrah" it rang once moreacross the water to the ships sailing under the flag which bore thedevice of a crimson Rising Sun on a white field. There memories of theold days of the Samurai knighthood were aroused, and a signal appearedon the rear top mast of the _Satsuma_, whereupon all six battleshipslowered their flags as a last tribute to a brave enemy. 

Then the _Connecticut_ listed heavily to starboard, and the next wavecould not raise the heavy ship, bleeding from a thousand wounds. It sankand sank, and while Admiral Perry held fast to a bit of railing andwaited with moist eyes for the end, the words of the old "Star-SpangledBanner, " which had been heard more than once in times of storm andperil, rang out from the deck of the _Connecticut_. Then, with her flagwaving to the last, the admiral's flag-ship sank slowly beneath thewaves, leaving a bloody glow behind her. That was the end. 

_Chapter XI_

CAPTAIN WINSTANLEY

Captain Winstanley slowly opened his eyes and stared at the low ceilingof his cabin on the white oil-paint of which the sunbeams, enteringthrough the porthole, were painting numerous circles and quiveringreflections. Slowly he began to collect his thoughts. Could it have beena dream or the raving of delirium? He tried to raise himself on hisnarrow bed, but fell back as he felt a sharp pain. There was no mistakeabout the pain--that was certainly real. What on earth had happened? Heasked himself this question again and again as he watched the thousandsof circles and quivering lines drawn by the light on the ceiling. 

Winstanley stared about him and suddenly started violently. Then it wasall real, a terrible reality? Yes, for there sat his friend Longstreetof the _Nebraska_ with his back against the wall of the cabin, in adripping wet uniform, fast asleep. 

"Longstreet!" he called. 

His friend awoke and stared at him in astonishment. 

"Longstreet, did it all really happen, or have I been dreaming?"

No answer. 

"Longstreet, " he began again more urgently, "tell me, is it all over, can it be true?"

Longstreet nodded, incapable of speech. 

"Our poor, poor country, " whispered Winstanley. 

After a long pause Longstreet suddenly broke the silence by remarking:"The _Nebraska_ went down at about six o'clock. "

"And the _Georgia_ a little earlier, " said Winstanley; "but where arewe? How did I get here?"

"The torpedo boat _Farragut_ fished us up after the battle. We are onboard the hospital ship _Ontario_ with about five hundred othersurvivors. "

"And what has become of the rest of our squadron?" asked Winstanleyapprehensively. Longstreet only shrugged his shoulders. 

Then they both dozed again and listened to the splashing and gurgling ofthe water against the ship's side and to the dull, regular thud of theengine which by degrees began to form words in Winstanley's fever-heatedimagination--meaningless words which seemed to pierce his brain withpainful sharpness: "Oh, won't you come across, " rose and fell the oilymelody, keeping time with the action of the piston-rods of the engine, "Oh, won't you come across, " repeated the walls, and "Oh, won't you comeacross, " clattered the water-bottle over in the wooden rack. Again andagain Winstanley said the words to himself in an everlasting, dullrepetition. 

Longstreet looked at him compassionately, and murmured: "Another attackof fever. " Then he got up, and bending over his comrade, looked out ofthe porthole. 

Water everywhere; nothing but sparkling, glistening water, broad, blue, rolling waves to be seen as far as the eye could reach. Not a sign of aship anywhere. 

"Oh, won't you come across, " repeated Longstreet, listlessly joining inthe rhythm of the engines. Then he stretched himself and sank back onhis chair in a somnolent state, thinking over the experiences of thenight. 

So this was all that was left of the Pacific Fleet--a hospital ship witha few hundred wounded officers and men, all that remained of AdmiralCrane's fleet, which had been attacked with torpedo boats by AdmiralKamimura at three o'clock on the night of May eighth, after Togo haddestroyed Perry's squadron. 

It had been a horrible surprise. The enemy must have intercepted thesignals between the squadron and the scouts, but as the Japanese had notemployed their wireless telegraph at all, none of the Americanreconnoitering cruisers had had its suspicions aroused. Then thewireless apparatus had suddenly got out of order and all furtherintercommunication among the American ships was cut off, while a fewminutes later came the first torpedo explosions, followed by fountainsof foam, the dazzling light of the searchlights and sparks from thefalling shells. The Americans could not reply to the hostile fire untilmuch, much later, and then it was almost over. When the gray light ofdawn spread over the surface of the water, it only lighted up a fewdrifting, sinking wrecks, the irrecognizable ruins of Admiral Crane'sproud squadron, which were soon completely destroyed by the enemy'storpedoes. 

Kamimura had already disappeared beyond the horizon with his ships, notbeing interested in his enemy's remains. 

"Oh, won't you come across, " groaned and wailed the engine quite loudlyas a door to the engine-room was opened. Longstreet jumped up with astart, and then climbed wearily and heavily up the stairs. The entiredeck had been turned into a hospital, and the few doctors were hurryingfrom one patient to another. 

Longstreet went up to a lieutenant in a torn uniform who was leaningagainst the railing with his head between his hands, staring across thewater. "Where are we going, Harry?" asked Longstreet. 

"I don't know; somewhere or other; it doesn't matter much where. "

Longstreet left him and climbed up to the bridge. Here he shook hands insilence with a few comrades and then asked the captain of the _Ontario_where they were going. 

"If possible, to San Francisco, " was the answer. "But I'm afraid theJapanese will be attacking the coast-batteries by this time, and besidesthat chap over there seems to have his eyes on us, " he added, pointingto port. 

Longstreet looked in the direction indicated and saw a gray cruiser withthree high funnels making straight for the _Ontario_. At this moment asignalman delivered a wireless message to the captain: "The cruiseryonder wants to know our name and destination. "

"Signal back: United States hospital ship _Ontario_ making for SanFrancisco, " said the captain. This signal was followed by the dull boomof a shot across the water; but the _Ontario_ continued on her course. 

Then a flash was seen from a forward gun of the cruiser and a shellsplashed into the water about one hundred yards in front of the_Ontario_, bursting with a deafening noise. 

The captain hesitated a second, then he ordered the engines to stop, turned over the command on the bridge to the first officer and wenthimself to the signaling apparatus to send the following message:"United States hospital ship _Ontario_ with five hundred wounded onboard relies on protection of ambulance-flag. "

A quarter of an hour later, the Japanese armored cruiser _Idzumo_stopped close to the _Ontario_ and lowered a cutter, which took severalJapanese officers and two doctors over to the _Ontario_. 

While a Japanese officer of high rank was received by the captain in hiscabin in order to discuss the best method of providing for the wounded, Longstreet went down to Winstanley. 

"Well, old man, how are you?" he asked. 

"Pretty miserable, Longstreet; what's going to become of us?"

Longstreet hesitated, but Winstanley insisted: "Tell me, old chap, tellme the truth. Where are we bound to--what's going to become of us?"

"We're going to San Francisco, " said Longstreet evasively. 

"And the enemy?"

Longstreet remained silent again. 

"But the enemy, Longstreet, where's the enemy? We mustn't fall into hishands!"

"Brace up, Winstanley, " said Longstreet, "we're in the hands of theJapanese now. "

Winstanley started up from his bed, but sank back exhausted by theterrible pain in his right arm which had been badly wounded. 

"No, no, anything but that! I'd rather be thrown overboard than fallinto the hands of the Japanese! It's all over, there's no use strugglingany more!"

"Longstreet, " he cried, with eyes burning with fever, "Longstreet, promise me that you'll throw me overboard rather than give me up to theJapanese!"

"No, Winstanley, no; think of our country, remember that it is in soreneed of men, of men to restore the honor of the Stars and Stripes, ofmen to drive the enemy from the field and conquer them in the end. "

At this moment the door opened and a Japanese lieutenant entered, carrying a small note-book in his hand. 

At sight of him Winstanley shouted: "Longstreet, hand me a weapon ofsome sort; that fellow----"

The Jap saluted and said: "Gentlemen, I am sorry for the circumstanceswhich compel me to ask you to give me your names and ships. Rest assuredthat a wounded enemy may safely rely on Japanese chivalry. If you willfollow the example of all the other officers and give your word of honornot to escape, you will receive all possible care and attention in thehospital at San Francisco without any irksome guard. Will you be so goodas to give me your names?"

"Lieutenant Longstreet of the _Nebraska_. "

"Thank you. "

"Captain Winstanley, commander of the _Georgia_, " added Longstreet forWinstanley. 

"Will you give me your word of honor?"

Longstreet gave his, but Winstanley shook his head and said: "_You cando what you like with me; I refuse to give my word of honor. _"

The Jap shrugged his shoulders and disappeared. 

"Longstreet, nursed in San Francisco, is that what the Jap said? ThenSan Francisco must be in their hands. " At these words the woundedcaptain of the _Georgia_ burst into bitter tears and sobs shook the bodyof the poor man, who in his ravings fancied himself back on board hisship giving orders for the big guns to fire at the enemy. Longstreetheld his friend's hand and stared in silence at the white ceiling uponwhich the sunbeams painted myriads of quivering lines and circles. 

At one o'clock the _Ontario_ came in sight of the Golden Gate, where thewhite banner with its crimson sun was seen to be waving above all thefortifications. 

 * * * * *

While the Japanese were attacking San Francisco early on the morning ofMay seventh, their fleet was stationed off San Diego on the lookout forthe two American maneuvering fleets. The intercepted orders from theNavy Department had informed the enemy that Admiral Perry, with his bluesquadron of six battleships of the _Connecticut_ class, intended toattack San Francisco and the other ports and naval-stations on thePacific, and that the yellow fleet, under command of Admiral Crane, wasto carry out the defense. The latter had drawn up his squadron in frontof San Francisco on May second, and on May fifth Admiral Perry had leftMagdalen Bay. From this time on every report sent by wireless was readby harmless looking Japanese trading-vessels sailing under the Englishflag. 

The first thing to be done on the morning of the seventh was to renderMagdalen Bay useless, in order to prevent all communication with distantships. A trick put the station in the enemy's possession. Here, too, there were several Japanese shopkeepers who did good business with theirstores along the Bay. Early on Sunday morning these busy yellowtradesmen were suddenly transformed into a company of troops who soonoverpowered the weak garrison in charge of the signal-station. TheJapanese cruiser _Yakumo_, approaching from the North, had been paintedwhite like the American cruisers, and this is why she had been taken, asthe reader will remember, for the armored cruiser _New York_, which wasactually lying off San Francisco assigned to Admiral Crane's yellowfleet. The _Yakumo_ was to prevent the two destroyers _Hull_ and_Hopkins_ from escaping from the Bay, and both boats were literally shotto pieces when they made the attempt. This action hopelessly isolatedthe maneuvering fleets. 

By eight o'clock in the morning Togo's squadron, consisting of theflag-ships _Satsuma_, the _Aki_, _Katou_, _Kashimi_, _Mikasa_ and_Akahi_, and forming the backbone of the Japanese battle-fleet, hadsucceeded in locating Admiral Perry's squadron, thanks to interceptedwireless dispatches. The Japanese refrained from using their wirelessapparatus, so as to avoid attracting the attention of the Americansquadron. The unfinished message sent at nine o'clock from Magdalen Baytold Togo that the surprise there had been successful, and a littlelater the order to strengthen the American advance, sent in the sameway, enabled him to ascertain the exact position of both the main groupof cruisers and the scouts and lookout ships. Similarly it was learnedthat the latter were extremely weak, and accordingly Togo detached fourarmored cruisers, the huge new 25-knot _Tokio_ and _Osaka_, and the_Ibuki_ and _Kurama_, to destroy the American van, and this he succeededin accomplishing after a short engagement which took place at the sametime as the attack on Perry's armored ships. 

The _Denver_ and _Chattanooga_ were soon put out of business by a fewshells which entered their unprotected hulls, and the five destroyers, which were unable to use their torpedoes in such a heavy sea, werelikewise soon done for. 

Under cover of a torrent of rain, Togo came in sight of the Americanships when the distance between the two squadrons was only 5, 500 yards. 

At the moment when Admiral Perry's ships emerged out of the rain, Admiral Togo opened the battle by sending the following signal from the_Satsuma_:

"To-day must avenge Kanagawa. As Commodore Perry then knocked with hissword at the gate of Nippon, so will we to-day burst open SanFrancisco's Golden Gate. "[1]

The signal was greeted with enthusiasm and loud cries of "_Banzai_!" onboard all the ships. Then the battle began, and by the time the sun hadreached its zenith, Admiral Perry's squadron had disappeared in thewaves of the Pacific. The first eleven minutes, before the Americanscould bring their guns into action, had determined the outcome of thebattle. The ultimate outcome of the battle had, of course, beenaccelerated by the fact that the first shells had created such fearfulhavoc in the fore-parts of three of the American ships, quantities ofwater pouring in which caused the ships to list and made it necessary tofill the compartments on the opposite side in order to restore theequilibrium. 

Admiral Kamimura was less fortunate at first with the second squadron. He was led astray by the wrong interpretation of a wireless signal anddid not sight Admiral Crane's fleet till towards evening, and then itwas not advisable to begin the attack at once, lest the Americans shouldescape under cover of darkness. Kamimura, therefore, decided to waituntil shortly after midnight, and then to commence operations with hiseight destroyers and apply the finishing touches with his heavy guns. 

Admiral Crane's squadron consisted of six battleships--the three newbattleships _Virginia_, _Nebraska_ and _Georgia_, the two older vessels_Kearsage_ and _Kentucky_, and, lastly, the _Iowa_. Then there were thetwo armored cruisers _St. Louis_ and _Milwaukee_, and the unprotectedcruisers _Tacoma_ and _Des Moines_, which, on account of their speed of16. 5 knots and their lack of any armor, were as useless as cruisers aswere their sister ships in Admiral Perry's squadron. One singlewell-aimed shell would suffice to put them out of action. 

It was a terrible surprise when the Japanese destroyers began the attackunder cover of the night. Not until dawn did the Americans actuallycatch sight of their enemy, and that was when Kamimura left the field ofbattle, which was strewn with sinking American ships, with his sixpractically unharmed battleships headed in a southwesterly direction tojoin Togo's fleet, who had already been informed of the victory. Thework of cleaning up was left to the destroyers, who sank the badlydamaged American ships with their torpedoes. The hospital ship_Ontario_, attached to the yellow fleet, and a torpedo boat fished upthe survivors of this short battle. Then the _Ontario_ started for SanFrancisco, while the leaking _Farragut_ remained behind. 

The Americans had been able to distinguish, with a fair degree ofcertainty, that Kamimura's squadron consisted of the _Shikishima_, thebattleships _Iwami_ (ex _Orel_), the _Sagami_ (ex _Peresvjet_), and_Tumo_ (ex _Pobjeda_), all three old Russian ships, and of the two newarmored cruisers _Ikoma_ and _Tsukuba_. Then there were the two enormousbattleships which were not included in the Japanese Navy List at all, and the two huge cruisers _Yokohama_ and _Shimonoseki_ which, accordingto Japanese reports, were still building, while in reality they had beenfinished and added to the fleet long ago. 

The circumstances connected with these two battleships were ratherpeculiar. The report was spread in 1906 that China was going to build anew fleet and that she had ordered two big battleships from the docks atYokosuka. This rumor was contradicted both at Pekin and at Tokio. TheAmericans and everybody in Europe wondered who was going to pay for theships. The trouble is, we ask altogether too many questions, instead ofinvestigating for ourselves. As a matter of fact, the ships were laiddown in 1908, though everybody outside the walls of the Japaneseshipyard was made to believe that only gunboats were being built. Wehave probably forgotten how, at the time, a German newspaper called ourattention to the fact that not only these two battleships--of theEnglish _Dreadnought_ type--but also the two armored cruisers buildingat Kure ostensibly for China, would probably never sail under the yellowdragon banner, but in case of war, would either be added directly toJapan's fleet or be bought back from China. 

And so it turned out. Just before the outbreak of the war, the SunBanner was hoisted quietly on the two battleships and they were giventhe names of _Nippon_ and _Hokkaido_, respectively; but they wereomitted from the official Japanese Navy List and left out of ourcalculations. How Pekin and Tokio came to terms with regard to these twoships remains one of the many secrets of east Asiatic politics. Thegenerally accepted political belief that China was not financiallystrong enough to build a new fleet and that Japan, supposedly on thevery verge of bankruptcy, could not possibly carry out her _postbellum_programme, was found to have rested on empty phrases employed by thepress on both sides of the ocean merely for the sake of running a story. There has never yet been a time in the history of the world when war wasprevented by a lack of funds. How could Prussia, absolutely devoid ofresources, have carried on the war it did against Napoleon a hundredyears ago, unless this were so?

In the redistribution of our war vessels in the Atlantic and the Pacificafter the return of the fleet from its journey round the world, the NavyDepartment had calculated as follows: Japan had fifteen battleships, sixlarge new ones and nine older ones; in addition she had six large newand eight older armored cruisers. We have one armored cruiser and threecruisers in Manila, and these can take care of at least five Japanesearmored cruisers. Japan therefore has fifteen battleships and ninearmored cruisers left for making an attack. Now if we keep twosquadrons, each consisting of six battleships--the _Texas_ amongthem--off the Pacific coast and add to these the coast-batteries, themines and the submarines, we shall possess a naval force which the enemywill never dare attack. 

Japan, on the other hand, figured as follows: We have two squadrons, each consisting of six battleships, among which there are six that aresuperior to any American fighting ship; these with the nine armoredcruisers and the advantage of a complete surprise, give us such ahandicap that we have nothing to fear. As a reserve, lying off SanFrancisco, are the ironclads _Hizen_ (ex _Retvisan_), _Tango_ (ex_Poltawa_), _Iki_ (ex _Nicolai_), and the armored cruisers _Azuma_, _Idzumo_, _Asama_, _Tokiwa_, and _Yakumo_. Besides these there are thetwo mortar-boat divisions and the cruisers sent to Seattle, while thearmored cruiser _Iwate_ and two destroyers were sent to Magdalen Bay. All that remained in home waters were the fourth squadron, consisting offormer Russian ships, and the cruisers which would soon be relieved atthe Philippines. 

The enemy had figured correctly and we had not. The two battles of theseventh and eighth of May were decided in the first ten minutes, beforewe had fired a single shot. And would the Japanese calculation have beencorrect also if Perry had beaten Togo or Crane Kamimura? Most decidedlyso, for not a single naval harbor or coaling-station, or repairing-dockon the Pacific coast would have been ready to receive Perry or Cranewith their badly damaged squadrons. On the other hand, the remnants ofour fleet would have had all the Japanese battleships, all the armoredcruisers and a large collection of torpedo-boats continually on theirheels, and would thus have been forced to another battle in which, beingentirely without a base of operations, they would without a doubt havesuffered a complete defeat. 

Our mines in the various arsenals and our three submarines at the MareIsland Wharf in San Francisco fell into the enemy's hands like ripeplums. It was quite superfluous for the Japanese to take their steamerfor transporting submarines, which had been built for them in England, to San Francisco. 

Nothing remained to us but the glory that not one of our ships hadsurrendered to the enemy--all had sunk with their flags flying. Afterall, it was one thing to fight against the demoralized fleet of the Czarand quite another to fight against the Stars and Stripes. Ourblue-jackets had saved the honor of the white race in the eyes of theyellow race on the waves of the Pacific, even if they had thus far shownthem only how brave American sailors die. But the loss of more than halfour officers and trained men was even a more severe blow than thesinking of our ships. These could not be replaced at a moment's notice, but months and months of hard work would be required and new squadronsmust be found. But from where were they to come?

Only a single vessel of the Pacific fleet escaped from the battle andthe pursuing Japanese cruisers: this was the torpedo-destroyer _Barry_, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Dayton, who had been in command of thetorpedo flotilla attached to Admiral Perry's squadron. He had attemptedtwice, advancing boldly into the teeth of the gale, to launch a torpedoin the direction of the _Satsuma_, but the sea was too rough and eachtime took the torpedo out of its course. 

The badly damaged destroyer entered the harbor of Buenaventura on thecoast of Colombia on May eleventh, followed closely by the Japanesesteamer _Iwate_, which had been lying off the coast of Panama. Grindinghis teeth with rage, Dayton had to look on while a Colombian officer inragged uniform, plentifully supplied with gilt, who was in the habit ofcommanding his tiny antediluvian gunboat from the door of a harborsaloon, came on board the _Barry_ and ordered the breeches of the gunsand the engine-valves to be removed, at the same time depriving the crewof their arms. The Japanese waiting outside the harbor had categoricallydemanded this action of the government in Bogota. This humiliatingdegradation before all the harbor loafers and criminals, before thecrowds of exulting Chinese and Japanese coolies, who were only toodelighted to see the white man compelled to submit to a handful ofmarines the entire batch of whom were not worth one American sailor, wasfar harder to bear than all the days of battle put together. And evennow, when Admiral Dayton's fame reaches beyond the seas and the name ofJames Dayton is in every sailor's mouth as the savior of his people, yes, even now, he will tell you how at the moment when, outside theStraits of Magellan, he crushed the Japanese cruisers with hiscruiser-squadron, thereby once again restoring the Star Spangled Bannerto its place of honor, the vision of that grinning row of faces exultingin the degradation of a severely damaged American torpedo-boat appearedbefore him. It is only such men as he, men who experienced the horrorsof our downfall to the bitter end, who could lead us to victory--suchmen as Dayton and Winstanley. 

[Footnote 1: Perry, the American commodore, with a fleet of only eightships, forced Japan to sign the agreement of Kanagawa, opening the chiefharbors in Japan to American trading-vessels, in the year 1854. ]

_Chapter XII_

ARE YOU WINSTANLEY?

The bow of the English freighter _Port Elizabeth_ was plowing its waythrough the broad waves of the Pacific on the evening of the fourteenthof September. The captain and the first mate were keeping a sharplookout on the bridge, for they were approaching San Francisco. Thesteamer had taken a cargo of machinery and rails on board at Esquimaultfor San Francisco, as was duly set forth in the ship's papers. InEsquimault, too, the second mate enlisted, though the captain was notparticularly eager to take a man who carried his arm in a sling. Since, however, he could find no one else to take the place of the formersecond mate, who had gone astray in the harbor saloons of Victoria, thecaptain engaged the volunteer, who called himself Henry Wilson, and thusfar he had had no cause to regret his choice, as Wilson turned out to bea quiet, sober man, thoroughly familiar with the waters along thePacific coast. 

Wilson was in the chart-room, carefully examining the entrance to SanFrancisco; suddenly he turned and called through the open door to thecaptain on the bridge: "Captain, we are now eight miles from the GoldenGate; it's a wonder the Japs haven't discovered us yet. "

"I should think they would station their cruisers as far out as this, "answered the captain. 

"After all, why should they?" asked Wilson, "there's nothing more to bedone here, and the allies of our illustrious government can scarcely beasked to show much interest in an English steamer with a harmlesscargo. "

Wilson joined the captain and the first mate on the bridge, and allthree leaned against the railing and tried through their glasses todiscover the fires of the Golden Gate through the darkness; but not agleam of light was to be seen. 

"I don't believe we'll be allowed to enter the harbor at night, " beganthe first mate again, "more especially as our instructions are to reachthe Golden Gate at noon. "

"Yes, but if the engines won't work properly, how the devil can theyexpect us to be punctual!" grumbled the captain. 

"Look, " cried Wilson, pointing to the blinding flash of a searchlight infront of them, "they've got us at last!" A few minutes later thebrilliant bluish white beam of a searchlight was fixed on the _PortElizabeth_. 

"We'll keep right on our course, " said the captain rather hurriedly tothe man at the helm, "they'll soon let us know what they want. Wilson, you might get the ship's papers ready, we'll have visitors in a minute. "

Scarcely had Wilson reached the captain's cabin when a bell rang sharplyin the engine-room, and soon after this the engines began to slow down. When he returned to the bridge, the masts and low funnels of a ship anda thick trailing cloud of smoke could be seen crossing the reflection ofthe searchlight a few hundred yards away from the _Port Elizabeth_. Thena long black torpedo-boat with four low funnels emerged from thedarkness, turned, and took the same course as the freighter. A boat waslowered and four sailors, a pilot and an officer stepped on board the_Port Elizabeth_. 

The captain welcomed the Japanese lieutenant at the gangway and spoke afew words to him in a low tone, whereupon they both went into thecaptain's cabin. The Jap must have been satisfied by his examination ofthe ship's papers, for he returned to the bridge conversing with thecaptain in a most friendly and animated manner. 

"This is my first mate, Hornberg, " said the captain. 

"An Englishman?" asked the Japanese. 

"No, a German. "

"A German?" repeated the Jap slowly. "The Germans are friends of Japan, are they not?" he asked, smiling pleasantly at the first mate, who, however, did not appear to have heard the question and turned away to goto the engine-room telephone. 

"And this is my second mate, Wilson. "

"An Englishman?" asked the Jap again. 

"Yes, an Englishman, " answered Wilson himself. 

The Japanese officer looked at him keenly and said: "I seem to knowyou. "

"It is not impossible, " said Wilson, "I have been navigating Japanesewaters for several years. "

"Indeed?" asked the lieutenant, "may I inquire on which line?"

"On several lines; I know Shanghai, I have been from Hongkong toYokohama in tramp steamers, and once during the Russian war I got toNagasaki--also with a cargo of machinery, " he added after a pause. "Thatwas a dangerous voyage, for the Russians had just sailed fromVladivostock. "

"With a cargo of machinery, " repeated the Japanese officer, adding, "andyou are familiar with these waters also?"

"Fairly so, " said Wilson. 

"Have you any relatives in the American Navy?" asked the Jap sharply. 

"Not that I know of, " answered Wilson, "my family is a large one, and asan Englishman I have relatives in all parts of the world, but none inthe American Navy, so far as I know. "

"Mr. Wilson, you will please take charge of the ship under the directionof the pilot brought along by the lieutenant. Mr. Hornberg's watch isup, " said the captain, and went off with the Jap to his cabin. 

Five minutes later the captain sent for the first mate, who returned tothe bridge almost directly, saying: "Mr. Wilson, I am to take your placeat the helm. The captain would like to see you. "

"Certainly, " answered Wilson curtly. The captain and the Jap weresitting together in the cabin over a glass of whisky. "The lieutenant, "said the captain, "wants to know something about Esquimault; you knowthe harbor there, don't you?"

"Very slightly, " answered Wilson, "I was only there three days. "

"Were there any Japanese ships at Esquimault when you were there?"

"Yes, there was a Japanese cruiser in dock. "

"What was her name?"

Wilson shrugged his shoulders and answered: "I couldn't say, I don'tknow the names of the Japanese ships. "

"Won't you sit down and join us in a glass of whisky?" said the captain. 

"What did you do to your arm?" asked the Japanese. 

"I was thrown against the railing in a storm and broke it on the wayfrom Shanghai to Victoria. "

A long pause ensued which was at last broken by the Jap, who inquired:"Do you know Lieutenant Longstreet of the American Navy?"

"I know no one of that name in the American Navy. "

The Jap scrutinized Wilson's face, but the latter remained perfectlyunconcerned. 

"You told the captain that you've been in San Francisco often, " beganthe Jap again; "on what line were you?"

"On no line, I was at San Francisco for pleasure. "

"When?"

"The last time was two years ago. "

"May I see your papers?"

"Certainly, " said Wilson, getting up to fetch them from his cabin. 

The Japanese studied them closely. 

"Curious, " he said at last, "I could have sworn that I've seen youbefore. "

Then he glanced again at one of the certificates and looking up atWilson suddenly, over the edge of the paper, asked sharply: "Why haveyou two names?"

"I have only one, " returned Wilson. 

"Winstanley and Wilson, " said the Jap with a decided emphasis on bothnames. 

"I'm very sorry, " said Wilson, "but I don't know anyone of the name ofWinstanley, or whatever you called it. The name cannot very well be inmy papers. "

"Then I must be mistaken, " said the Jap peevishly. 

Wilson left the captain's cabin and went up to the bridge, where he drewa deep breath of relief. 

The pilot gave directions for the ship's course, and the torpedo-boatsteamed along on her port side like a shadow. 

"I wonder why we have a wireless apparatus on board?" asked Hornberg. 

"It never occurred to me until you mentioned it. I imagine it's merelyan experiment of the owners, " answered Wilson. Then they both lapsedinto silence and only attended to the pilot's directions for the ship'scourse. 

Wilson presently looked at his watch and remarked: "We must be abouttwo miles from the Golden Gate by this time. "

"It's possible, " said Hornberg, "but as all the ships use shaded lights, it's a difficult thing to determine. "

"Can we enter the harbor by night?" he asked of the Japanese pilot. 

"Yes, sir, whenever you like, under our pilotage you can enter theharbor by day or night. "

"How's that?"

"You'll see directly. "

At this moment the torpedo-boat's siren bellowed sharply three times, and immediately the red lights at the masthead and the side of a steamerabout half a mile off became visible, and the bright flash of hersearchlight was thrown on the _Port Elizabeth_. The pilot sent a shortsignal across, which was immediately answered by the Japanese guardship. 

"Now you'll see the channel, " said the pilot to Wilson, "it's really anAmerican invention, but we were the first to put it to practical use. Wecan't possibly lose our way now. "

"Yes, captain, you'll see something wonderful now, " said the lieutenant, as he came on the bridge with the captain. "You'll open your eyes whenyou see us steering through the mines. "

Suddenly a bright circle of light appeared on the surface of the water, which was reflected from some source of light about ten yards below thesurface. "It's an anchored light-buoy, " explained the lieutenant, "whichforms the end of the electric light cable, and there to the right isanother one. All we have to do now is to keep a straight course betweenthe two rows of lantern-buoys which are connected with the cable, and inthat way we'll be able to steer with perfect safety between the minesinto the harbor of San Francisco. " And indeed, about a hundred yardsahead a second shining circle of light appeared on the water, andfurther on a whole chain of round disks was seen to make a turn to theleft and then disappear in the distance. The same kind of a lineappeared on the right. Half an hour later three bright red reflections, looking like transparent floating balls of light filled with ruby-red, bubbling billows, marked a spot where the helm had to be turned to portin order to bring the ship through a gap in the line of mines. Thus the_Port Elizabeth_ reached San Francisco early in the morning. She did notmake fast at the quay, but at the arsenal on Mare Island, her crew thenbeing given shore leave. When the last man had gone, the _PortElizabeth_, unloaded her cargo of machinery and rails which, in thehands of the Chinese coolies, was transformed into gun-barrels, ammunition and shells in the most marvelous manner. "_Le pavilion couvrela marchandise_, especially under the Union Jack, " said Hornbergsarcastically, as he watched this metamorphosis, but the captain onlylooked at him angrily. 

That was the second time during the war that Captain Winstanley of theUnited States Navy, and late commander of the battleship _Georgia_, sawSan Francisco, whence he had escaped by night from the naval hospitaltwo months before. The Japanese lieutenant was the same who had receivedthe word of honor of the officers on board the hospital ship _Ontario_on May eighth, and to whom Winstanley had refused to give his. Twomonths after his voyage as second mate on board the _Port Elizabeth_, which enabled him to gather information concerning the Japanese measuresfor the defense of San Francisco, Winstanley stood on the bridge of thebattleship _Delaware_ as commander of the second Atlantic squadron. Andfour months later the name of the victor in the naval battle off theGalapagos Islands went the rounds of the world!

_Chapter XIII_

THE REVENGE FOR PORTSMOUTH

The more one examined the complicated machinery of the Japanese plan ofattack, the more one was forced to admire the cleverness and the energyof the Mongolians in preparing for the war, and the more distinctlythese were recognized, the clearer became the wide gulf between theMongolian's and the white man's point of view concerning all thesematters. 

We might have learned a lesson in 1904, if we had not so carelessly andthoughtlessly looked upon the Russo-Japanese war as a mere episode, instead of regarding it as a war whose roots were firmly embedded in theinner life of a nation that had suddenly come to the surface of a rapidpolitical development. The interference of the European powers in thePeace of Shimonoseki in 1895 robbed Japan of nearly all the fruits ofher victory over China. Japan had been forced to vacate the conqueredprovince of Liaotung on the mainland because she was unable to prevailagainst three European powers, who were for once agreed in maintainingthat all Chinese booty belonged to Europe, for they regarded China as abankrupt estate to be divided among her creditors. When, therefore, after the second Peace of Shimonoseki, Japan was compelled to relinquishall her possessions on the mainland and to console herself for hershattered hopes with a few million taels, every Japanese knew that thelost booty would at some time or other be demanded from Russia at thepoint of the sword. With the millions paid by China as war indemnity, Japan procured a new military armament, built an armored fleet andslowly but surely taught the nation to prepare for the hour of revenge. Remember Shimonoseki! That was the secret shibboleth, the free-mason'ssign, which for nine long years kept the thoughts of the Japanese peoplecontinually centered on one object. 

"One country, one people, one God!" were words once emphaticallypronounced by Kaiser Wilhelm. But with the Japanese such high-soundingwords as these are quite unnecessary. In the heart of all, from theTenno to the lowest rickshaw coolie, there exists a jealous nationalconsciousness, as natural as the beating of the heart itself, whichunites the forces of religion, of the political idea and of intellectualculture into one indivisible element, differing in the individual onlyin intensity and in form of expression. When a citizen of Japan leaveshis native land, he nevertheless remains a Japanese from the crown ofhis head to the soles of his feet, and can no more mix with members ofanother nation than a drop of oil can mix with water: a drop of oilpoured on water will remain on its surface as an alien element, and sodoes a Japanese among another people. While the streams of emigrantspassing over the boundaries of Europe into other countries soon adaptthemselves to new conditions and eventually adopt not only the outwardbut also the inward symbols of their environment, until finally theythink and feel like those round about them, the Japanese remains a Japfor all time. The former sometimes retain a sentimental memory of theirformer home, but the Mongolian is never sentimental or romantic. He issober and sensible, with very little imagination, and his whole energy, all his thoughts and endeavors are directed towards the upholding of thenational, intellectual and religious unity of Japan. His country is hisconscience, his faith, his deity. 

Ordinary nations require hundreds and even thousands of years to inspiretheir people with a national consciousness, but this was not necessaryin Japan, for there patriotism is inborn in the people, among whom anact of treason against the fatherland would be impossible because it islooked upon as spiritual suicide. The inner solidarity of the nationalcharacter, the positive assurance of the fulfillment of all nationalduties, and the absolute silence of the people towards strangers--theseare the weapons with which Japan enters the arena, clothed in a rattlingready-made steel armor, the like of which her opponents have yet tomanufacture. The discretion shown by the Japanese press in all questionsrelating to foreign policy is regarded as the fulfillment of a patrioticduty just as much as the joyous self-sacrifice of the soldier on thefield of battle. 

From the moment that Marquis Ito had returned from Portsmouth (in 1905)empty-handed and the Japanese had been sorely disappointed in theirhopes through President Roosevelt's instrumentality in bringing aboutpeace, every Japanese knew whose turn would come next. The Japanesepeople were at first exceedingly angry at the way in which they had beendeprived of their expected indemnity, but the government only allowedthem to let off steam enough to prevent the boilers from bursting. Hereand there, where it could do no harm, they let the excited mob have itsway, but very soon both government and press began their new work ofturning the people's patriotic passions away from the past to preparefor the future control of the Pacific. When in return for theprohibition of Chinese immigration to the United States, China boycottedour goods, and the ensuing panic in Wall Street forced the governmentin Washington to grant large concessions, Japan did not attempt to makeuse of this sharp weapon, for one of their most extensive industries, namely the silk industry, depended upon the export to the United States. Japan continued to place orders in America and treated the Americanimporters with special politeness, even when she saw that the beginningof the boycott gave the gentlemen in Washington a terrible scare, prompting them to collect funds to relieve the famine in China and evenrenouncing all claim to the war indemnity of 1901 to smooth mattersover. But Japan apparently took no notice of all this and continued tobe deferential and polite, even when the growing heaps of unsold goodsin the warehouses at Shanghai made the Americans ready to sacrifice someof their national pride. Since Japan wished to take the enemy bysurprise, she had to be very careful not to arouse suspicionsbeforehand. 

"Never speak of it, but think of it always, " was the watchword given outby the little Jewish lawyer in the president's chair of France, when thelonging for revenge filled the soul of every Frenchman during the slowretreat of the German army after its victorious campaign; "never speakof it, but think of it always, " that was the watchword of the Japanesepeople also, although never expressed in words. It was nine years beforethe bill of exchange issued at Shimonoseki was presented on thatFebruary night in the roads of Port Arthur; for nine years the Japanesehad kept silence and thought about it, had drilled and armed theirsoldiers, built ships and instructed their crews. The world had seen allthis going on, but had no idea of the real reason for these warlikepreparations on a tremendous scale. It was not Japan who had deceivedthe world, for everything went on quite openly, it being impossible tohide an army of over a million men under a bushel basket; but the worldhad deceived itself. When ships are built and cannon cast in other partsof the world, everyone knows for whom they are intended, and shouldanyone be ignorant, he will soon be enlightened by the after-dinnerspeeches of diplomats or indiscreet newspaper articles. The military andnaval plans of the old world are common property, and this politicalindiscretion is characteristic of America as well as of Europe. Instriking contrast thereto are the cool calculation, the silentobservation and the perfect harmony of the peoples of Asia and Africa, all of whom, without exception, are inspired by a deep and undyinghatred of the white race. 

You may live for years among disciples of Mohammed, know all in yourenvironment, penetrate into their thoughts and feelings, and still beutterly incapable of judging when the little spark that occasionallyglows in their eyes in moments of great enthusiasm, will suddenlydevelop into an immense flame, when a force will make its appearance ofthe existence of which you have never dreamed, and which will, without asign of warning, devastate and destroy all around it. But when this doeshappen and the corpses of the slain encumber the streets, when thequiet, peaceful, apparently indolent Moslem who for years has workedfaithfully for you, is transformed in a few hours into a fanatical hero, whom thousands follow like so many sheep, then, at the sight of theburning ruins you will be forced to admit that the white man willforever be excluded from the thoughts and the national sentiment of thefollowers of Islam. 

You walk across a sandy plain in the heat of the midday sun and youreturn the same way the next morning after a rainy night--what hashappened? The ground which yesterday looked so parched and barren is nowcovered with millions of tiny blades. Where has this sudden life comefrom? It was there all the time. There is always latent life beneath thesurface, but it is invisible. And as soon as a fertilizing rain comes, it springs up, and everyone perceives what has been slumbering beneaththe crust. 

In the dense jungles from which the sacred Nile receives its waters, there stands a tent and before it a saddled horse. From the tent stepsforth a man with large glowing eyes, dressed all in white, who isgreeted by his followers with fanatical cries of Allah, Allah! He mountshis steed, the camels rise, and the long caravan swings slowly out ofsight and disappears in the bush. Once more dead silence reigns in theAfrican jungle. Whither are they going? You don't know; you see only arider dressed in a white burnoose, only a few dozen men hailing aprophet, but in the very same moment in which you see only a sheikriding off, millions know that the Caliph, the Blessed of Allah, hasstarted on his journey through the lands whose inhabitants he intends tolead either to victory or to destruction. In the same moment millions ofhearts from Mogador to Cape Guardafui, from Tripoli to the burning saltdeserts of Kalahari, rejoice in the thought that the hour of deliverancehas come for the peoples of Islam. A victorious feeling of buoyant hopearises in the hearts of the Faithful simply because a plain Arabiansheik has started on the road pointed out by Allah. How they happen toknow it and all at the same time, will forever remain a mystery to thewhite man, as much of a mystery as the secret inner life of the yellowraces of Asia. 

"Never speak of it, but think of it always, " had been the watchword, andeverything that had transpired, even the apparently inconsistent andsenseless things, had been ruled by it. The world could not be deceivedabout the things that were plainly visible; all the Japanese had to dowas to make sure that the world would deceive itself as it had doneduring the preparations for Port Arthur. A perfectly equipped army couldbe seen by all on the fields of Nippon, Hokkaido and Kiushiu, and thefleet was surely not hidden from view. It was the world's own fault thatit could not interpret what it saw, that it imagined the little yellowmonkey would never dare attack the clumsy polar-bear. Because thediplomatic quill-drivers would only see what fitted into their schemes, because they were capable only of moving in a circle about their ownideas, they could not understand the thoughts of others, and the fewwarning voices died away unheeded. It was not Japan's fault that theroads at Port Arthur roused the world out of its slumber. What businesshad the world to be asleep?

"Never speak of it, but think of it always"--the adversary must be putto sleep again, he must be lulled into security and his thoughtsdirected towards the points where there was nothing to be seen, where nopreparations were in progress. He must be kept in the dark about thetrue nature of the preparations, and on the other hand put on as manyfalse scents as possible, so that he might not get the faintest idea ofthe real plan. 

This is the reason why all those things were done, why the quarrel overthe admission of Japanese children to the public schools of SanFrancisco was cooked up, why so much national anger was exhibited, whythe Japanese press took up the quarrel like a hungry dog pouncing upon abone, why so much noise was made about it at public meetings that onewould have thought the fate of Japan hung on the result. And then, assoon as Washington began to back down, the dogs were whipped back totheir kennels and the "national anger" died out as soon as Japan had"saved her face. " The Americans were allowed to doze off again, fullypersuaded that the school question was settled once and for all and thatthere was nothing further to fear in that direction. Then, too, Japanapparently yielded in the vexed question of Japanese immigration to theUnited States, but instead of sending the immigrants to San Franciscoand Seattle, as she had done hitherto, they were simply dispatchedacross the Mexican frontier, where it was impossible to exercise controlover such things, for no one could be expected to patrol the sandydeserts of Arizona and New Mexico merely to watch whether a few Japsslipped across the border now and then. It was therefore impossible tokeep track of the number of Japanese who entered the country in thisway, more especially as the official emigration figures issued at Tokiowere purposely inaccurate, so as to confuse the statistics still more. 

"Never speak of it, but think of it always!" That is why a Japanesephotographer was sent to San Diego to photograph the walls of FortRosecrans. He was to get himself arrested. But of course we had to letthe fellow go when he proved that better and more accurate photos thanhe had taken could be purchased in almost any store in San Diego. Theobject of this game was the same as that practiced in Manila, where wewere induced to arrest a spy who was ostentatiously taking photographs. Both of these little maneuvers were intended to persuade us that Japanwas densely ignorant with regard to these forts which as a matter offact would play no rôle at all in her plan of attack; America was to beled to believe that Japan's system of espionage was in its infancy, while in reality the government at Tokio was in possession of the exactdiagram of every fort, was thoroughly familiar with every beam of ourwarships--thanks to the Japanese stewards who had been employed by theNavy Department up to a few years ago--knew the peculiarities of everyone of our commanders and their hobbies in maneuvers, and finally wasinformed down to the smallest detail of our plans of mobilization, andof the location of our war headquarters and of our armories andammunition depots. 

For the same reason the Japanese press, and the English press in EasternAsia which was inspired by Japan, continually drew attention to thePhilippines, as though that archipelago were to be the first point ofattack. For this reason, too, the English-Chinese press published at thebeginning of the year the well-known plans for Japan's offensive navalattack and the transport of two of her army corps to the Philippines. And the ruse proved successful. Just as Russia had been taken completelyby surprise because she would persist in her theory that Japan wouldbegin by marching upon Manchuria, so now the idea that Japan would firsttry to capture the Philippines and Hawaii had become an American and aninternational dogma. The world had allowed itself to be deceived asecond time, and, convinced that the first blow would be struck atManila and Hawaii, they spent their time in figuring out how soon theAmerican fleet would be able to arrive on the scene of action in orderto save the situation in the Far East. 

"Never speak of it, but think of it always!" While Japan wasdisseminating these false notions as to the probable course of a war, the actual preparations for it were being conducted in an entirelydifferent place, and the adversary was induced to concentrate hisstrength at a point where there was no intention of making an attack. The Japanese were overjoyed to observe the strengthening of thePhilippine garrison when the insurrection inspired by Japanese agentsbroke out at Mindanao as well as the concentration of the cruisersquadron off that island, for Manila, the naval base, was thus leftunprotected. With the same malignant joy they noticed how the UnitedStates stationed half of its fleet off the Pacific coast and, relying onher mobile means of defense, provided insufficient garrisons for thecoast-defenses, on the supposition that there would be plenty of time toput the garrisons on a war-footing after the outbreak of hostilities. 

Japan's next move came in March and April, when she quietly withdrew allthe regular troops from the Manchurian garrisons and replaced them withreserve regiments fully able to repulse for a time any attack on thepart of Russia. The meaning of this move was not revealed until weekslater, when it became known that the transport ships from Dalny andGensan, which were supposed to have returned to Japan, were really ontheir way to San Francisco and Seattle with the second detachment of theinvading army. 

After the destruction of the Philippine squadron, the Japanese reducedtheir blockade of the Bay of Manila to a few old cruisers and armedmerchant-steamers, at the same time isolating the American garrisons inthe archipelago, whose fate was soon decided. The blockading ships couldnot of course venture near the heavy guns of the Corregidor batteries, but that was not their task. They had merely to see that Manila had nointercourse with the outside world, and this they did most efficiently. The Japanese ships had at first feared an attack by the two littlesubmarines _Shark_ and _Porpoise_ stationed at Cavite; they learned fromtheir spies on land, however, that the government shipyards at Cavitehad tried in vain to render the little boats seaworthy: they returnedfrom each diving-trial with defective gasoline-engines. And when, weekslater, they at last reached Corregidor, the four Japanese submarinesquickly put an end to them. The strongly fortified city of Manila hadthus become a naval base without a fleet and was accordingly overpoweredfrom the land side. 

As the far too weak garrison of scarcely more than ten thousand men wasinsufficient to defend the extensive line of forts and barricades, theunfinished works at Olongapo on Subig Bay were blown up with dynamiteand vacated, then the railways were abandoned, and finally only Manilaand Cavite were retained. But the repeated attacks of the natives underthe leadership of Japanese officers soon depleted the little garrison, which was entirely cut off from outside assistance and dependentabsolutely on the supplies left in Manila itself. The only article ofwhich they had more than enough was coal; but you can't bake bread withcoal, and so finally, on August twenty-fourth, Manila capitulated. Twenty-eight hundred starving soldiers surrendered their arms while thebalance lay either in the hospitals or on the field of battle. Thus thePhilippines became a Japanese possession with the loss of a single man, Lieutenant Shirawa. All the rest had been accomplished by the Filipinosand by the climate that was so conducive to the propagation ofmosquitoes and scorpions. 

Hawaii's fate had been decided even more quickly than that of thePhilippines. The sixty thousand Japanese inhabitants of the archipelagowere more than enough to put an end to American rule. The half-finishedworks at Pearl Harbor fell at the first assault, while the threedestroyers and the little gunboat were surprised by the enemy. Guam, andPago-Pago on Tutuila, were also captured, quite incidentally. About themiddle of May, a Japanese transport fleet returning from San Franciscoappeared at Honolulu and took forty thousand inhabitants to Seattle, where they formed the reserve corps of the Northern Japanese Army. 

 * * * * *

Japan's rising imperialism, the feeling that the sovereignty of thePacific rightly belonged to the leading power in yellow Asia had, longbefore the storms of war swept across the plains of Manchuria, come intoconflict with the imperialistic policy of the United States, althoughinvisibly at first. Prior to that time the Asiatic races had looked uponthe dominion of the white man as a kind of fate, as an irrevocableuniversal law, but the fall of Port Arthur had shattered this idol onceand for all. And after the days of Mukden and Tsushima had destroyed thebelief in the invincibility of the European arms, the Japanese agentsfound fertile soil everywhere for their seeds of secret politicalagitation. In India, in Siam, and in China also, the people began toprick their ears when it was quite openly declared that after thedestruction of the czar's fleet the Pacific and the lands bordering onit could belong only to the Mongolians. The discovery was made that thewhite man was not invincible. And beside England, only the United Statesremained to be considered--the United States who were still hard at workon their Philippine inheritance and could not make up their mind toestablish their loudly heralded imperialistic policy on a firm footingby providing the necessary armaments. 

Then came the Peace of Portsmouth. Absolutely convinced that his countrywould have to bear the brunt of the next Asiatic thunder-storm, TheodoreRoosevelt gained one of the most momentous victories in the history ofthe world when he removed the payment of a war indemnity from theconditions of peace. And he did this not because he had any particularlove for the Russians, but because he wished to prevent thestrengthening of Japan's financial position until after the completionof the Panama Canal. America did exactly what Germany, Russia and Francehad done at the Peace of Shimonoseki, and we had to be prepared forsimilar results. But how long did it take the American people, who hadhelped to celebrate the victories of Oyama, Nogi and Togo, to recognizethat a day of vengeance for Portsmouth was bound to come. In those dayswe regarded the Manchurian campaign merely as a spectacle and applaudedthe victors. We had no idea that it was only the prelude of the greatdrama of the struggle for the sovereignty of the Pacific. We wantedimperialism, but took no steps to establish it on a firm basis, and itis foolish to dream of imperial dominion when one is afraid to lay thesword in the scales. We might bluff the enemy for the time being bysending our fleet to the Pacific; but we could not keep him deceivedlong as to the weakness of our equipment on land and at sea, especiallyon land. 

The wholesale immigration of Mongolians to our Pacific States and to thewestern shores of South America was clearly understood across the sea. But we looked quietly on while the Japanese overran Chili, Peru andBolivia, all the harbors on the western coast of South America; andwhile the yellow man penetrated there unhindered and the decisive eventsof the future were in process of preparation, we continued to lookanxiously eastward from the platform of the Monroe Doctrine and to keepa sharp lookout on the modest remnants of the European colonial dominionin the Caribbean Sea, as if danger could threaten us from that corner. We seemed to think that the Monroe Doctrine had an eastern exposureonly, and when we were occasionally reminded that it embraced the entirecontinent, we allowed our thoughts to be distracted by the London presswith its talk of the "German danger" in South America, just as thoughany European state would think for a moment of seizing three Brazilianprovinces overnight, as it were. 

We have always tumbled through history as though we were deaf and dumb, regarding those who warned us in time against the Japanese danger asbackward people whose intellects were too weak to grasp the victoriousmarch of Japanese culture. Any one who would not acknowledge theundeniable advance of Japan to be the greatest event of the presentgeneration was stamped by us an enemy of civilization. We recognizedonly two categories of people--Japanophobes and Japanophiles. It neverentered our heads that we might recognize the weighty significance ofJapan's sudden development into a great political power, but at the sametime warn our people most urgently against regarding this developmentmerely as a phase of feuilletonistic culture. Right here lies the basisfor all our political mistakes of the last few years. The revenge forPortsmouth came as such a terrible surprise, because, misled by commonopinion, we believed the enemy to be breaking down under the weight ofhis armor and therefore incapable of conducting a new war and, in thisway undervaluing our adversary, we neglected all necessary preparations. No diplomatic conflict, not the slightest disturbance of our relationswith Japan prepared the way for the great surprise. The world was thericher by one experience--that a war need have no prelude on thediplomatic stage provided enough circumstances have led up to it. 

_Chapter XIV_

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WHIRLPOOL

On the rear deck of a ferry-boat bound for Hoboken on the morning of May12th stood Randolph Taney, with his hands in his pockets, gazingintently at the foaming waters of the Hudson plowed up by the screw. Itwas all over: he had speculated in Wall Street, putting his money onHarriman, and had lost every cent he had. What Harriman could safely dowith a million, Randolph Taney could not do with a quarter of a million. That's why he had lost. Fortunately only his own money. The whole bundleof papers wasn't worth any more than the copy of the _Times_ tossedabout in the swirling water in the wake of the boat. 

Randolph Taney kept on thinking. Just why he was going to Hoboken hereally didn't know, but it made little difference what he did. 

"Halloo, Taney, " called out an acquaintance, "where are you going?"

"I don't know. "

"You don't know? How's that?"

"I'm done for. "

"You're not the only one; Wall Street is a dangerous vortex. "

"But I'm absolutely cleaned out. "

"How so?"

"Do you know what I'm going to do, James Harrison?" asked Taney, withbitter irony in his voice. "I'll apprentice myself to a paperhanger, and learn to paper my rooms with my worthless railway shares. I imagineI can still learn that much. "

"Ah, that's the way the wind blows!" cried the other, whistling softly. 

"What did you think?"

"It was pretty bad, I suppose?"

"Bad? It was hell----"

"Were you in Wall Street on Monday?"

"Yes, and on Tuesday, too. "

"And now you want to learn paperhanging?"

"Yes. "

"Does it have to be that?"

"Can you suggest anything else?"

"Yes. "

"Well?"

Hubert pointed to the button-hole in the lapel of his coat and said: "Doyou see this?"

"What is it?"

"A volunteer button. "

Taney looked with interest at the little white button with the Americanflag, and then said: "Have I got to that point? The last chance, Isuppose?" he added after a pause. 

"Not the last, but the first!"

"How so?"

"At any rate it's better than paperhanging. Look here, Taney, you'llonly worry yourself to death. It would be far more sensible of you totake the bull by the horns and join our ranks. You can at least try toretrieve your fortunes by that means. "

The ferry-boat entered the slip at Hoboken and both men left the boat. 

"Now, Taney, which is it to be, paperhanging or--, " and James Harrisonpointed to the button. 

"I'll come with you, " said Taney indifferently. They went further alongthe docks towards the Governor's Island ferry-boat. 

"I have a friend over there, " said Harrison, "a major in the 8thRegulars; he'll be sure to find room for us, and we may be at the frontin a month's time. "

Taney stuffed his pipe and answered: "In a month? That suits me; I haveno affairs to arrange. "

The two men looked across in silence at Manhattan Island, where thebuildings were piled up in huge terraces. All the color-tones wereaccentuated in the bright clear morning air. The sky-scrapers of theEmpire City, mighty turreted palaces almost reaching into the clouds, stood out like gigantic silhouettes. The dome of the Singer Buildingglistened and glittered in the sun, crowning a region in which strenuouswork was the order of the day, while directly before them stretched thebroad waters of the Hudson with its swarm of hurrying ferry-boats. Further on, between the piers and the low warehouses, could be seen along row of serious-looking ocean-steamers, whose iron lungs emittedlittle clouds of steam as the cranes fed their huge bodies with nicelittle morsels. 

The two men had seen this picture hundreds of times, but were impressedonce again by its grandeur. 

"Taney, " said Harrison, "isn't that the most beautiful city in theworld? I've been around the world twice, but I've never seen anything toequal it. That's our home, and we are going to protect it by shoulderingour guns. Come on, old chap, leave everything else behind and come withme!"

"Yes, I'll come, I certainly shall!" came the quick response. Then theytook the boat to Governor's Island and Taney enlisted. They promised tomake him a lieutenant when the troops took the field. 

When they returned two hours later Randolph Taney also wore the buttonwith the flag in the center: he was a full-fledged volunteer in theUnited States Army. 

On the return trip Taney became communicative, and told the story of theeighth of May, that terrible day in Wall Street when billions meltedaway like butter, when thousands of persons were tossed about in thewhirlpool of the Stock Exchange, when the very foundations of economiclife seemed to be slipping away. He described the wild scenes whendesperate financiers rushed about like madmen, and told how some of themactually lost their reason during the bitter struggle for existence, when not an inch of ground was vacated without resistance. Men foughtfor every projecting rock, every piece of wreckage, every straw, as theymust have fought in the waves of the Flood, and yet one victim afteranother was swallowed by the vortex. In the midst of the mad scrimmageon the floor of the Exchange one excited individual, the general managerof a large railroad--with his hair disheveled and the perspirationstreaming down his face, one of his sleeves ripped out and his collartorn off--suddenly climbed on a platform and began to preach a confusedsermon accompanied by wild gestures; others, whose nerves were utterlyunstrung by the terrible strain, joined in vulgar street-songs. 

Harrison had read about these things in the papers, but his friend'sgraphic description brought it all vividly to mind again and caused himto shudder. He seemed to see all the ruined existences, which themaelstrom in Wall Street had dragged down into the depths, staring athim with haggard faces. He thought of his own simple, plain life ascompared with the neurasthenic existence of the men on the StockExchange, who were now compelled to look on in complete apathy and letthings go as they were. The rich man, whom in the bottom of his hearthe had often envied, was now poorer than the Italian bootblack standingbeside him. 

The ferry-boat now turned sharply aside to make room for the giant_Mauretania_, which was steaming out majestically from its pier into thebroad Hudson River. 

The thrilling notes of the "Star Spangled Banner" had just died away, and a sea of handkerchiefs fluttered over the railings, which werecrowded with passengers waving their last farewells to those leftbehind. Then the ship's band struck up a new tune, and the enormoussteamer plowed through the waves towards the open sea. 

"There go the rats who have deserted the sinking ship, " said RandolphTaney bitterly, "our leading men of finance are said to have offeredfabulous prices for the plainest berths. "

The flight of the homeless had begun. 

_Chapter XV_

A RAY OF LIGHT

Only a small Japanese garrison was left at Seattle after the firsttransports of troops had turned eastward on the seventh and eighth ofMay, and the northern army under Marshal Nogi had, after a fewinsignificant skirmishes with small American detachments, taken up itsposition in, and to the south of, the Blue Mountains. Then, in thebeginning of June, the first transport-ships arrived from Hawaii, bringing the reserve corps for the northern army, with orders to occupythe harbors and coast-towns behind the front and to guard the lines ofcommunication to the East. 

Communication by rail had been stopped everywhere. No American wasallowed to board a train, and only with the greatest difficulty did afew succeed in securing special permission in very urgent cases. Thestations had one and all been turned into little forts, being occupiedby Japanese detachments who at the same time attended to the Japanesepassenger and freight-service. 

In all places occupied by the Japanese the press had been silenced, except for one paper in each town, which was allowed to continue itsexistence because the Japs needed it for the publication of edicts andproclamations issued to the inhabitants, and for the dissemination ofnews from the seat of war, the latter point being considered of greatimportance. This entire absence of news from other than Japanese sourcesgave rise to thousands of rumors, which seemed to circulate morerapidly by word of mouth than the former telegraphic dispatches hadthrough the newspapers. 

On the morning of June eighth the news was spread in Tacoma that thecity would that day receive a Japanese garrison, as severaltransport-steamers had arrived at Seattle. Up to that time only oneJapanese company had been stationed at Tacoma, and they had occupied therailroad station and the gas and electric works and intrenchedthemselves in the new waterworks outside the town. Through some strangetrick of fortune the gun-depot for the arming of the national guardwhich had been removed to Tacoma a year ago and which contained aboutfive thousand 1903 Springfield rifles had escaped the notice of theenemy. The guns had been stored provisionally in the cellars of a largegrain elevator and it had been possible to keep them concealed from theeyes of the Japs, but it was feared that their hiding-place might bebetrayed any day. This danger would of course be greatly increased themoment Tacoma received a stronger garrison. 

Martin Engelmann, a German who had immigrated to the great Northwestsome twenty years ago, owned a pretty little home in the suburbs ofTacoma. The family had just sat down to dinner when the youngest son, who was employed in a large mercantile establishment in the city, entered hurriedly and called out excitedly:

"They're coming, father, they're in the harbor. "

Then he sat down and began to eat his soup in haste. 

"They're coming?" asked old Engelmann in a serious tone of voice, "thenI fear it is too late. "

The old man got up from the table and going over to the window lookedout into the street. Not a living thing was to be seen far and wideexcept a little white poodle gnawing a bone in the middle of thestreet. Engelmann stared attentively at the poodle, buried in thought. 

"How many of them are there?" he asked after a pause. 

"At least a whole battalion, I'm told, " answered the son, finishing hissoup in short order. 

"Then it's all over, of course. Just twenty-four hours too soon, " sighedEngelmann softly as he watched the poodle, who at that moment wasjumping about on the street playing with the gnawed bone. 

Engelmann tried hard to control himself, but he did not dare turn hishead, for he could hear low, suppressed sobbing behind him. Martha, thefaithful companion of his busy life, sat at the table with her faceburied in her hands, the tears rolling uninterruptedly down her cheeks, while her two daughters were trying their best to comfort her. 

Old Engelmann opened the window and listened. 

"Nothing to be heard yet; but they'll have to pass here to get to thewaterworks, " he said. Then he joined his family, and turning to hiswife, said: "Courage, mother! Arthur will do his duty. "

"But if anything should happen to him--" sobbed his wife. 

"Then it will be for his country, and his death and that of his comradeswill give us an example of the sacrifices we must all make until thelast of the yellow race has been driven out. "

The mother went on crying quietly, her handkerchief up to her eyes:"When was it to be? Tell me!" she cried. 

"To-night, " said the father, "and they would surely have beensuccessful, for they could easily have overpowered the few men at thestation and in the town. Listen, there are the Japs!"

From outside came the regular beat of the drums. Bum--bum--bum, bum, bumthey went, and then the shrill squeaking of the fifes could also beheard. 

"Yes, there they are, the deuce take 'em, " said Engelmann. The sound ofthe drums became more and more distinct and presently the sound oftroops marching in step could be clearly distinguished. Then the stepsbecame firmer, and the window-panes began to rattle as the leader of thebattalion appeared on horseback in the middle of the street, followed bythe fife and drum corps, and with the little white poodle barking at hisheels. It was a Japanese battalion of reserves marching in the directionof the new waterworks outside the town. 

"Courage, mother!" comforted the old man. "If they only stay at thewaterworks all may yet be well. "

"Wouldn't it be possible to warn Arthur?" began the mother again. 

"Warn him?" said Engelmann, shrugging his shoulders, "all you have to dois to go to the telegraph office and hand in a telegram to the Japaneseofficial, telling them to remain where they are. "

"But couldn't we make it a go after all?" asked the youngest sonthoughtfully. "The boxes are all ready, and can be packed in half anhour. We have three hundred men and thirty wagons. The latter were to beloaded at eleven o'clock to-night. And then at them with our revolvers!There aren't more than twenty men at the station, " he went on withsparkling eyes. "At eleven o'clock sharp the telegraph-wire to thewaterworks will be cut, also the wires to all the stations; then letthem telegraph all they like. The minute the train arrives, the enginewill be switched to another track and then backed in front of the train. Meanwhile the boxes will be packed in the cars and then we'll be offwith the throttle wide open. At each station a car will be dropped, andwagons will be waiting to receive their loads and get away as fast asthe horses can pull them. Safe hiding-places have been found for all theboxes, and whatever hasn't been captured by to-morrow morning willcertainly never fall into the enemy's hands. "

"Where is the telegraph-wire to the waterworks?" asked the father. 

"That's my job, to cut the wire just before the arrival of the train, "said his son proudly. 

"Richard, " cried the mother in a horrified voice, "are you in it, too?"

"Yes, mother, you didn't suppose I'd stand and look on while Arthur wasrisking his life, did you? What would they think of us on the other sideif we were to hesitate at such a time as this? 'Germans to the front, 'that's our slogan now, and we'll show the people in Washington that theGerman-Americans treat the duties of their new country seriously. "

Old Engelmann laid his hand on his son's shoulder, saying: "Right youare, my boy, and my blessing go with you! So you are to cut thetelegraph-wire?"

"Yes, father. We happen to know where it is. The Japs were of courseclever enough to lay it underground, but we have discovered it under thepaving near Brown & Co. 's store. We dug through to it very carefullyfrom the cellar, and so as to make quite sure in case they should noticeanything out of the way at the waterworks, we attached a Morse apparatusto the wire in the cellar. In case they suspect anything at the worksand begin to telegraph, I'm to work the keys a little so that they won'tknow the wire is cut. In addition we laid a wire to the station lastnight, which will give a loud bell-signal in case any danger threatens. "

The young fellow had talked himself into a state of great excitement, and his two sisters, watching him proudly, began to be infected by hisenthusiasm. 

The shades of night were falling slowly as Richard Engelmann bade atouching farewell to his family and left the house, whistling a livelytune as he walked towards the town. 

_Chapter XVI_

THROUGH FIRE AND SMOKE

A train was always kept in readiness at Centralia on the NorthernPacific Railway, which could get up full steam at a moment's notice incase of necessity. Two Japanese, the engineer and the fireman, weresquatting on the floor of the tender in front of the glistening blackheaps of coal, over which played the red reflections from the furnace. They had just made their tea with hot water from the boiler and eatentheir modest supper. Then the engineer pulled out his pipe and stuffingits little metal bowl with a few crumbs of tobacco, took one or twopuffs at it and said, "Akoki, it is time, " whereupon the stoker seizedhis shovel, dug into the heap of coals and threw the black lumps with asure aim into the open door of the furnace. With a hissing sound thedraft rushed into the glowing fire, and the engine sent out masses ofblack smoke which, mixed with hundreds of tiny sparks, was driven like apillar of fire over the dark row of cars. The engineer climbed down thelittle iron steps and examined the steel rods of his engine withclinking knocks from his hammer. 

Up and down in front of the dark station walked a Japanese sentinel andeach time that he passed beyond the ring of light thrown by the twodimly burning lamps he seemed to be swallowed up in the darkness. Onlytwo little windows at one end of the station were lighted up; theybelonged to the Japanese guard-room and had been walled up so that theywere no wider than loop-holes. The train which inspected this districtregularly between eight and nine o'clock each evening had passed by at8. 30 and proceeded in the direction of Portland. With the exception ofthe non-commissioned officer and the man in charge of the threearc-lamps on the roof that were to light up the surrounding country incase of a night-attack most of the soldiers had gone to sleep, althougha few were engaged in a whispered conversation. 

Suddenly the sergeant sprang up as a muffled cry was heard from theoutside. "The lamps!" he yelled to the man at the electric instrument. The latter pushed the lever, but everything remained pitch dark outside. 

The soldiers were up in a second. The sergeant took a few steps towardsthe door, but before he could reach it, it was torn open from theoutside. 

A determined looking man with a rifle slung over his shoulder appearedin the doorway, and the next moment a dark object flew through the airand was dashed against the wall. A deafening report followed, and thenthe guard-room was filled with yellow light caused by the blindingexplosion, while thick black smoke forced its way out through theloop-holes. Armed men were running up and down in front of the station, and when the man who had thrown the bomb and who was only slightlyinjured but bleeding at the nose and ears from the force of theconcussion, was picked up by them, they were able to assure himtriumphantly that his work had been successful and that the guard-roomhad become a coffin for the small Japanese detachment. 

Stumbling over the dead body of the sentinel lying on the platform, theleader of the attacking party rushed towards the engine, out of thedischarge-valves of which clouds of boiling steam poured forth. With onebound he was up in the cab, where he found the Japanese fireman killedby a blow from an ax. Other dark figures climbed up from the oppositeside bumping into their comrades. 

"Halloo, Dick, I call that a good job!" And then it began to liven upalong the row of cars. Wild looking men with rifles over their shouldersand revolvers in their right hands tore open the carriage doors andrushed quickly through the whole train. 

"Dick, where's Forster?"

"Here, " answered a rough voice. 

"Off to the engine! Into the cars, quick! Are you ready? Is anyonemissing? Arthur! Where's Arthur?"

"Here, Dick!"

"Good work, Arthur, that's what I call good work, " said the leader;"well done, my boys! We're all right so far! Now for the rest of it. "

Fighting Dick distributed his men among the different cars and then heand Forster, formerly an engineer on the Northern Pacific, climbed intothe cab. 

"They've made it easy for us, " said Forster, "they've only just putfresh coal on! We can start at once! And if it isn't my old engine atthat! I only hope we won't have to give her up! The Japs shan't have heragain, anyhow, even if she has to swallow some dynamite and cough alittle to prevent it. "

"We're off, " shouted Fighting Dick, whose fame as a desperado had spreadfar beyond the borders of the State of Washington. With such men asthese we were destined to win back our native land. They were a wildlot, but each of them was a hero: farmers, hunters, workmen from shopand factory, numerous tramps and half-blooded Indian horse-thieves madeup the company. Only a few days ago Fighting Dick's band had had aregular battle in the mountains with a troop of Japanese cavalry, and inthe woods of Tacoma more than one Japanese patrol had never found itsway back to the city. These little encounters were no doubt alsoresponsible for the strengthening of the Japanese garrison at Tacoma. 

The thing to do now was to get the five thousand guns and ammunitioncases out of Tacoma by surprising the enemy. 

Thus far, nothing but the explosion of the bomb at the Centralia stationcould have betrayed the plot. It is true that the distant mountains hadsent the echoes of the detonation far and wide, but a single shot didn'thave much significance at a time like this when our country resoundedwith the thunder of cannon day in day out!

The train rushed through the darkness at full speed. A misplaced switch, a loose rail, might at any moment turn the whole train into a heap ofruins and stop the beating of a hundred brave American hearts. Theheadlight of Forster's engine lighted up the long rows of shining rails, and in the silent woods on both sides of the track, beneath the branchesof the huge trees, lights could be seen here and there in the windows ofthe houses, where the dwellers were anxiously awaiting the return of thetrain from Tacoma! And now a hollow roll of thunder came up from below. 

"The bridges?" asked Fighting Dick. 

"Yes, the bridges, " said Forster, nodding. 

Then a faint light appeared in the distance. The train was nearingTacoma. 

Houses began to spring up more frequently out of the darkness, now tothe right and now to the left; dancing lights popped up and disappeared. Tall, black buildings near the tracks gave out a thundering noise likethe crash of hammers and accompanied the roar of the passing train. Abeam of light is suddenly thrown across the rails, green and redlanterns slip by with the speed of lightning, and then the brakessqueak and the train runs noisily into the dark station. 

A few figures hurry across the platform. Shots ring out from all sides. A mortally-wounded Jap is leaning against a post, breathing heavily. 

The wheels groan beneath the pressure of the brakes and then, with amighty jerk that shakes everybody up, the train comes to a stand-still. Down from the cars! Fighting Dick in the lead, revolver in hand, and theothers right on his heels. They entered the station only to find everyJap dead--the men of Tacoma had done their duty. 

Now the clatter of hoofs was heard out in the street. The heavy wagonswith their heaps of rifles and long tin boxes full of cartridges weredriven up at a mad pace. A wild tumult ensued as the boxes were rushedto the train--two men to a box--and the doors slammed to. Then the emptywagons rattled back through the silent streets. Meanwhile Forster ranhis engine on the turntable, where it was quickly reversed, and in a fewmoments it stood, puffing and snorting, at the other end of the train. 

All this consumed less than half an hour. Suddenly shots rang out in theneighboring streets, but as no detachment of hostile troops appeared, the Americans concluded that they had been fired by a patrol which wascoming from the electric-works to see what the noise at the station wasabout. Several rockets with their blinding magnesium light appeared inthe dark sky and illumined the roofs of the houses. Was it a warningsignal?

All at once the electric gongs near the station which were connectedwith Brown & Co. 's cellar began to ring, a sign that somethingsuspicious had been noticed at the waterworks. Forster was waitingimpatiently in his engine for the signal of departure and could notimagine why Fighting Dick was postponing it so long. He was standing inthe doorway of the station and now called out: "Where is ArthurEngelmann?"

"Not here, " came the answer from the train. 

"Where can he be?"

The name was called out several times, but no one answered. The trainwas ready to start and the men were distributing the boxes carefullyinside the cars, so as to be able to unload them without loss of time attheir respective destinations. And now, at last, Arthur Engelmann camerunning into the station. 

"Hurry up!" called Fighting Dick. 

"No, wait a minute! We'll have to take this fellow along, " criedEngelmann, pointing to a wounded man, who was being carried by twocomrades. 

"Put him down! We'll have to be off! We've got plenty of men, but notenough guns. "

"You must take him!"

"No, we're off!"

"You'll wait, " said Arthur Engelmann, seizing Dick's arm; "it's mybrother. "

"I can't help it, you'll have to leave him behind. "

"Then I'll stay too!"

"Go ahead, if you want to. "

At this moment shrill bugle-calls resounded from one of the nearbystreets. 

"The Japanese!" roared Fighting Dick; "come on, Arthur!"

But Arthur snatched his wounded brother from the two men who werecarrying him and lifted him across his own shoulder, while the others, led by Fighting Dick, rushed past him and jumped on the train. 

Bullets were whizzing past and several had entered the walls of thestation when Fighting Dick's voice gave the command: "Let her go, Forster! Let her go!"

Puffing and snorting, and with the pistons turning the high wheels, which could not get a hold on the slippery rails, at lightning speed, the engine started just as the Japanese soldiers ran into the station, from the windows of which they commenced to fire blindly at thedeparting train. The bullets poured into the rear cars like hail-stones, smashing the wooden walls and window-panes. 

Fighting Dick, standing beside Forster, looked back and saw the stationfull of soldiers. The two Germans must have fallen into their hands, hethought. 

But they must hustle with the train now, for although the telegraphwires had been cut all along the line, they still had light-signals tofear! And even as this thought occurred to him, a glare appeared in thesky in the direction of the waterworks, then went out and appeared againat regular intervals. Those silent signs certainly had some meaning. Perhaps it was a signal to the nearest watch to pull up the rails infront of the approaching train? With his teeth set and his hand on thethrottle, Forster stood in his engine while the fireman kept shovelingcoals into the furnace. 

"Forster, " said Dick suddenly, "what's that in front of us? Heavens, it's burning!"

"The bridges are burning, Fighting Dick!"

"That's just what I thought, the damned yellow monkeys! Never mind, we'll have to go on. Do you think you can get the engine across?"

"The bridges will hold us all right. It would take half a day to burnthe wood through and we'll be there in ten minutes. "

Now fluttering little flames could be seen running along the rails andlicking the blood-red beams of the long wooden bridges, giant monumentsof American extravagance in the use of wood. Clouds of smoke crepttowards the train, hiding the rails from view, and soon the enginerolled into a veritable sea of flames and smoke. Forster screamed tohis companion: "They've poured petroleum over the wood. "

"We'll have to get across, " answered Fighting Dick, "even if we all burnto death. "

Biting smoke and the burning breath of the fiery sea almost suffocatedthe two men. The air was quivering with heat, and all clearly definedlines disappeared as the angry flames now arose on both sides. 

"Press hard against the front, " screamed Forster; "that's the only wayto get a little air, otherwise we'll suffocate. "

The high-pressure steam of the speeding locomotive hissed out of all thevalves, shaking the mighty steel frame with all its force; the heat ofthe flames cracked the windows, and wherever the hand sought support, pieces of skin were left on the red-hot spots. A few shots were firedfrom the outside. 

"One minute more, " yelled Forster, "and we'll be over. "

Fighting Dick collapsed under the influence of the poisonous gases andfainted away on the floor of the cab. And now the flames grew smallerand smaller and gradually became hidden in clouds of smoke. 

"Hurrah!" cried Forster; "there's a clear stretch ahead of us!" Then heleaned out of the cab-window to look at the train behind him and sawthat the last two cars were in flames. He blew the whistle as a signalthat the last car was to be uncoupled and left where it was, for he hadjust noticed a man standing near the track, swinging his bicycle lamphigh above his head. 

"Perhaps they'll be able to unload the car after all, " he said toFighting Dick, who was slowly coming to. But the sound of the explosionof some of the boxes of cartridges in the uncoupled car made it fairlycertain that there wouldn't be much left to unload. 

Five minutes later, after they had passed a dark station, the samesignal was noticed, and another car was uncoupled, and similarly one carafter another was left on the track. The guns and ammunition-boxes wereunloaded as expeditiously as possible and transferred to the wagons thatwere waiting to receive them. The moment they were ready, the horsesgalloped off as fast as they could go and disappeared in the darkness, leaving the burning cars behind as a shining beacon. 

When, on the morning of June ninth, a Japanese military train fromPortland traveled slowly along the line, it came first upon the ruins ofan engine which had been blown up by dynamite, and after that it was asmuch as the Japanese could do to clear away the remnants of the variousruined cars by the end of the day. The bridge, which had been set onfire by a Japanese detachment with the help of several barrels ofpetroleum, was completely burned down. 

But the plot had been successful and Fighting Dick's fame resounded fromone ocean to the other, and proved to the nations across the sea thatthe old energy of the American people had been revived and that the warof extermination against the yellow race had begun, though as yet onlyon a small scale. And the Japanese troops, too, began to appreciate thatthe same irresistible force--a patriotic self-sacrifice that swepteverything before it--which had in one generation raised Japan to theheights of political power, was now being directed against the foreigninvader. 

Half the town had known of the plan for removing the rifles andammunition from Tacoma, but a strong self-control had taken the place ofthe thoughtless garrulousness of former times. Not a sign, not a wordhad betrayed the plot to the enemy; every man controlled his feverishemotion and wore an air of stolid indifference. We had learned a lessonfrom the enemy. 

Fourteen Americans were captured with weapons in hand, and in additionabout twenty-eight badly wounded. The Japanese commander of Tacomaissued a proclamation the following evening that all the prisoners, without exception, would be tried by court-martial in the course of thenext day and condemned to death--the penalty that had been threatened incase of insurrection. The Japanese court-martial arrived in the city onJune ninth with a regiment from Seattle. The Tacoma board of aldermenwere invited to send two of their number to be present at the trial, butthe offer being promptly refused, the Japanese pronounced judgment onthe prisoners alone. As had been expected, they were all condemned todeath by hanging, but at the earnest pleading of the mayor of Tacoma, the sentence was afterwards mitigated to death by shooting. 

Old Martin Engelmann tried in vain to secure permission to see his sonsonce more; his request was brusquely refused. 

In the light of early dawn on June eleventh the condemned men were ledout to the waterworks to be executed, the wounded being conveyed inwagons. Thousands of the inhabitants took part in this funeralprocession--in dead silence. 

Old Engelmann was standing, drawn up to his full height, at the windowof his home, and mutely he caught the farewell glances of his two sonsas they passed by, the one marching in the midst of his comrades, theother lying in the first wagon among the wounded. Frau Martha hadsummoned sufficient courage to stand beside her husband, but the momentthe procession had passed, she burst into bitter tears. Her life wasbereft of all hope and the future stretched out dark and melancholybefore her. 

Suddenly a gentle hand was laid on her white head. "Mother, " said one ofher daughters, "do you hear it? I heard it yesterday. They're singingthe song of Fighting Dick and of our dear boys. No one knows whocomposed it, it seems to have sprung up of itself. They were singing iton the street last night, the song of Arthur Engelmann, who sacrificedhis life for his brother. "

"Yes, " said the father, "it's true, mother, they are singing of ourlads; be brave, mother, and remember that those who are taken from usto-day will live forever in the hearts of the American people. "

And louder and louder rang out the notes of that proud song of thecitizens of Tacoma--the first pæan of victory in those sad days. 

_Chapter XVII_

WHAT HAPPENED AT CORPUS CHRISTI

The attitude of the European press left no room for doubt as to thehonest indignation of the Old World at the treacherous attack on ourcountry. But what good could this scathing denunciation of the Japanesepolicy do us? A newspaper article wouldn't hurt a single Japanesesoldier, and what good could all the resolutions passed at enthusiasticpublic meetings in Germany and France do us, or the daily cablegramsgiving us the assurance of their sympathy and good-will?

These expressions of public opinion did, however, prove that the OldWorld realized at last that the yellow danger was of universal interest, that it was not merely forcing a single country to the wall, casually asit were, but that it was of deep and immediate concern to every Europeannation without exception. They began to look beyond the wisdom of thepulpit orators who preached about the wonderful growth of culture inJapan, and to recognize that if the United States did not succeed inconquering Japan and driving the enemy out of the country, thevictorious Japanese would not hesitate a moment to take the next stepand knock loudly and peremptorily at Europe's door, and this would putan end once and for all to every single European colonial empire. 

But while European authorities on international law were busily paradingtheir paper wisdom, and wondering how a war without a declaration of warand without a diplomatic prelude could fit into the political scheme ofthe world's history, at least one real item of assistance was at hand. 

The American press, it is true, still suffered from the delusion thatour militia--consisting of hundreds of thousands of men--and ourvolunteers would be prepared to take the field in three or four weeks, but the indescribable confusion existing in all the military camps tolda different story. What was needed most were capable officers. The sadexperiences of the Spanish-American campaign were repeated, only on agreatly magnified scale. We possessed splendid material in the matter ofmen and plenty of good-will, but we lacked completely the practicalexperience necessary for adapting the military apparatus of our smallforce of regular soldiers to the requirements of a great national army. We felt that we could with the aid of money and common-sense transform alarge group of able-bodied men accustomed to healthy exercise into aserviceable and even a victorious army, but we made a great mistake. Thecommissariat and sanitary service and especially the militarytrain-corps would have to be created out of nothing. When in June thegovernor of one State reported that his infantry regiment was formed andonly waiting for rifles, uniforms and the necessary military wagons, andwhen another declared that his two regiments of cavalry and sixbatteries were ready to leave for the front as soon as horses, guns, ammunition-carts and harness could be procured, it showed with horribledistinctness how utterly ridiculous our methods of mobilization were. 

The London diplomats went around like whipped curs, for all the earlyenthusiasm for the Japanese alliance disappeared as soon as the Englishmerchants began to have such unpleasant experiences with theunscrupulousness of the Japanese in business matters. As a matter offact the alliance had fulfilled its object as soon as Japan had foughtEngland's war with Russia for her. But the cabinet of St. James adheredto the treaty, because they feared that if they let go of the hawser, aword from Tokio would incite India to revolt. The soil there had foryears been prepared for this very contingency, and London, therefore, turned a deaf ear to the indignation expressed by the rest of the worldat Japan's treacherous violation of peace. 

At last at the end of July the transportation of troops to the Westbegan. But when the police kept a sharp lookout for Japanese or Chinesespies at the stations where the troops were boarding the trains, theywere looking in the wrong place, for the enemy was smart enough not toexpose himself unnecessarily or to send spies who, as Mongolians, wouldat once have fallen victims to the rage of the people if seen anywherenear the camps. 

Besides, such a system of espionage was rendered unnecessary by theAmerican press, which, instead of benefiting by past experience, tookgood care to keep the Japanese well informed concerning the militarymeasures of the government, and even discussed the organization of thearmy and the possibilities of the strategical advance in a way thatseemed particularly reprehensible in the light of the fearful reversesof the last few months. The government warnings were disregardedespecially by the large dailies, who seemed to find it absolutelyimpossible to regard the events of the day in any other light than thatof sensational news to be eagerly competed for. 

This competition for news from the seat of war and from the camps hadfirst to lead to a real catastrophe, before strict discipline could beenforced in this respect. A few patriotic editors, to be sure, refusedto make use of the material offered them; but the cable dispatches sentto Europe, the news forwarded triumphantly as a proof that the Americanswere now in a position "to toss the yellow monkeys into the Pacific, "quite sufficed to enable the Japanese to adopt preventive measures intime. 

While the American Army of the North was advancing on Nogi's forces inthe Blue Mountains, the Army of the South was to attack the Japaneseposition in Arizona by way of Texas. For this purpose the three brigadesstationed in the mountains of New Mexico were to be reënforced by thetroops from Cuba and Porto Rico and the two Florida regiments. All ofthese forces were to be transported to Corpus Christi by water, as itwas hoped in this way to keep the movement concealed from the enemy, inorder that the attack in the South might come as far as possible in thenature of a surprise, and thus prevent the sending of reënforcements tothe North where, at the foot of the Blue Mountains, the main battle wasto be fought. But unfortunately our plan of attack did not remainsecret. Before a single soldier had set foot on the transport shipswhich had been lying for weeks in the harbors of Havana and Tampa, theJapanese news bureaus in Kingston (Jamaica) and Havana had been fullyinformed as to where the blow was to fall, partly by West Indianhalf-breed spies and partly by the obliging American press. One regimentof cavalry had already arrived at Corpus Christi from Tampa on July30th, and the Cuban troops were expected on the following day. 

 * * * * *

Two American naval officers were standing on the small gallery of thewhite light-house situated at the extreme end of the narrow tongue ofland lying before the lagoon of Corpus Christi, gazing through theirglasses at the boundless expanse of blue water glittering with myriadsof spots in the rays of the midday sun. Out in the roads lay seven largefreight steamers whose cargoes of horses and baggage, belonging to the2d Florida Cavalry Regiment, were being transferred to lighters. A smalltug, throwing up two glittering streaks of spray with its broad bow, wastowing three barges through the narrow opening of the lagoon to CorpusChristi, whose docks showed signs of unusual bustle. Short-windedengines were pulling long freight-trains over the tracks that ran alongthe docks, ringing their bells uninterruptedly. From the camps outsidethe town the low murmur of drums and long bugle-calls could be heardthrough the drowsy noon heat. A long gray snake, spotted with the dullglitter of bright metal, wound its way between the white tents: adetachment of troops marching to the station. Beyond the town one couldfollow the silver rails through the green plantations for miles, asplainly as on a map, until they finally disappeared on the horizon. 

Now the whistle of the tug sounded shrilly, blowing scattered flakes ofwhite steam into the air. The quick, clear tolling of church-bells rangover the roofs of the bright houses of the city. It was twelve o'clockand the sun's rays were scorching hot. 

One of the naval officers pulled out his watch to see if it werecorrect, and then said: "Shall we go down and get something to eatfirst, Ben?"

"The steamers from Havana ought really to be in sight by this time, "answered Ben Wood; "they left on the twenty-sixth. "

"Well, yes, on the twenty-sixth. But some of those transport-shipspalmed off on us are the limit and can't even make ten knots an hour. Their rickety engines set the pace for the fleet, and unless the_Olympia_ wishes to abandon the shaky old hulks to their fate, she mustkeep step with them. "

Lieutenant Gibson Spencer swept the horizon once more with hismarine-glass and stopped searchingly at one spot. "If that's not the_Flying Dutchman_, they're ships, " he remarked, "probably our ships. "

The light-house keeper, a slender Mexican, came on the gallery, saying:"Ships are coming over there, sir, " as he pointed in the direction whichSpencer had indicated. Lieutenant Ben Wood stepped to the stationarytelescope in the light-room below the place for the lamps, and startedto adjust the screws, but the heat of the metal, which had becomered-hot beneath the burning rays of the sun, made him start: "Hot hole, "he swore under his breath. 

Lieutenant Spencer conversed a moment with the keeper and then lookedagain through his glass at Corpus Christi, where the tug was just makingfast to the pier. The third barge knocked violently against the piles, so that a whole shower of splinters fell into the water. 

"Gibson, " cried Lieutenant Wood suddenly from his place in thelight-room, his voice sounding muffled on account of the small space, "those are not our ships. "

Spencer looked through the telescope and arrived at the same conclusion. "No, " he said; "we have no ships like that, but they're coming nearerand we'll soon be able to make out what they are!"

"Those ships certainly don't belong to our fleet, " he repeated afteranother long look at the vessels slowly growing larger on the horizon. They had two enormous funnels and only one mast and even the archedroofs of their turrets could now be clearly distinguished. 

"If I didn't know that our English friends owned the only ships of thatcaliber, and that our own are unhappily still in process of equipmentat Newport News, I should say that those were two _Dreadnoughts_. "

"I guess you've had a sunstroke, " rang out the answer. 

"Sunstroke or no sunstroke, those are two _Dreadnoughts_. "

"But where can they come from?"

The three men examined the horizon in silence, till Lieutenant Woodsuddenly broke it by exclaiming: "There, do you see, to the left, justappearing on the horizon, that's our transport fleet--eight--ten ships;the one in front is probably the _Olympia_. "

"Twelve ships, " counted the keeper, "and if I may be allowed to say so, the two in front are battleships. "

"There they are then, " said Ben Wood, "and now we'll get something toeat in a jiffy, for we'll have our work cut out for us in an hour!"

"Where shall we eat?" asked Spencer, "I'll gladly dispense with the grubat Signor Morrosini's to-day. "

"I'll tell you what, " said the other, "we'll go across to one of thetransport-steamers; or, better still, we'll go to the captain of the_Marietta_--we'll be sure to get something decent to eat there. "

"Right you are!" said Spencer, peering down over the edge of therailing. "Our cutter is down there, " he added. 

At the foot of the light-house lay a small, white cutter with its brassappointments glittering in the sunlight. Her crew, consisting of threemen, had crept into the little cabin, while the black stoker was restingon a bench near the boiler. 

"Ho, Dodge!" shouted Spencer, "get up steam. We're going over to thetransport-ships in ten minutes. "

The firemen threw several shovels of coal into the furnace, whereupon acloud of smoke poured out of the funnel straight up along thelight-house. Lieutenant Wood telephoned over to Corpus Christi that thetransports with the troops on board had been sighted and that they wouldprobably arrive in the roads in about two hours. 

"We're going over to one of the transport-ships meanwhile, " he added, "and will await the arrival of the squadron out there. "

While Lieutenant Spencer was climbing down the narrow staircase, Lieutenant Wood once more examined the horizon and suddenly started. Thethunder of a shot boomed across the water. Boom--came the sound ofanother one!

The lieutenant clapped his marine-glasses to his eyes. Yes, there weretwo _Dreadnoughts_ out there, evidently saluting. But why at such adistance?

"Gibson, " he called down the staircase. 

"Come on, Ben!" came the impatient answer from below. 

"I can't, I wish you'd come up again for a minute, I'm sure something'swrong!"

The gun-shots were booming loudly across the water as Lieutenant Spencerreached the gallery, covered with perspiration. 

"I suppose they're saluting, " exclaimed Spencer somewhat uncertainly. 

Ben Wood said nothing, but with a quick jerk turned the telescope to theright and began examining the transport-ships. 

"Heavens, " he shouted, "they mean business. I can see shells splashinginto the water in front of the _Olympia_--no, there in the middle--awayback there, too-- One of the transports listed. What can it mean? Canthey be Japanese?"

Again the roar of guns rolled across the quiet waters. 

"Now the _Olympia_ is beginning to shoot, " cried Ben Wood. "Oh, thatshot struck the turret. Great, that must have done some good work! Butwhat in Heaven's name are we going to do?"

Lieutenant Spencer answered by pushing the light-house keeper, who wasin abject fear, aside, and rushing to the telephone. Trembling withexcitement, he stamped his foot and swore loudly when no notice wastaken of his ring. 

"All asleep over there as usual! Ah, at last!"

"Halloo! what's up?"

"This is the light-house. Notify the commander at Corpus Christi at oncethat the Japanese are in the roads and are attacking the transports. "

Over in Corpus Christi people began to collect on the piers, the bellsstopped ringing, but the sound of bugles could still be heard comingfrom the encampments. 

Now the light-house telephone rang madly and Spencer seized thereceiver. "They are, I tell you. Can't you hear the shots?" he shoutedinto the instrument. "There are two large Japanese ships out in theroads shooting at the _Olympia_ and the transports. Impossible or not, it's a fact!"

Suddenly a thick column of smoke began to ascend from the funnel of thelittle American gunboat _Marietta_, which was lying among the transportsout in the roads. The whistles and bugle-calls could be hearddistinctly, and the crew could be seen on deck busy at the guns. Thesteam-winch rattled and began to haul up the anchor, while the waterwhirled at the stern as the vessel made a turn. Even before the anchorappeared at the surface the gunboat had put to sea with her course settowards the ships on the horizon, which were enveloped in clouds ofblack smoke. 

"There's nothing for us to do, " said Spencer despairingly, "but standhere helplessly and look on. There isn't a single torpedo-boat, not asingle submarine here! For Heaven's sake, Ben, tell us what's happeningout there!"

"It's awful!" answered Wood; "two of the transport-ships are in flames, two seem to have been sunk, and some of those further back have listedbadly. The _Olympia_ is heading straight for the enemy, but she seems tobe damaged and is burning aft. There are two more cruisers in thebackground, but they are hidden by the smoke from the burning steamers;I can't see them any more. "

"Where on earth have the Japanese ships come from? I thought their wholefleet was stationed in the Pacific. Not one of their ships has ever comearound Cape Horn or through the Straits of Magellan; if they had, ourcruisers off the Argentine coast would have seen them. And besides itwould be utter madness to send just two battleships to the Atlantic. Butwhere else can they have come from?"

"There's no use asking where they come from, " cried Wood excitedly, "thechief point is, they're there!"

He gave up his place at the telescope to his comrade, thought for amoment, and then went to the telephone. 

His orders into town were short and decisive: "Send all the tugs out tosea immediately. Have them hoist the ambulance-flag and try to rescuethe men of the transports. "

"And you, Spencer, " he continued, "take the cutter and hurry over to thetransport-steamers in the roads and have them hoist the Red Cross flagand get to sea as quickly as possible to help in the work of rescue. That's the only thing left for us to do. I'll take command of the_President Cleveland_ and you take charge of the Swedish steamer_Olsen_. And now let's get to work! Signor Alvares can play the rôle ofidle onlooker better than we can. Our place is out there!"

Both officers rushed down the stairs and jumped into the cutter, whichsteamed off at full speed and took them to their ships. 

Three-quarters of an hour later the tug mentioned in the beginning ofthe chapter appeared again at the entrance to the lagoon. Several mencould be seen in the stern holding a large white sheet upon which a manwas painting a large red cross, and when the symbol of human love andassistance was finished, the sheet was hoisted at the flagstaff. Twoother tugs followed the example of the first one. 

But could the enemy have taken the three little tugs for torpedo-boats?It seemed so, for suddenly a shell, which touched the surface of thewater twice, whizzed past and hit the first steamer amidships just belowthe funnel. And while the little vessel was still enveloped by the blacksmoke caused by the bursting of the shell, her bow and stern rose highout of the water and she sank immediately, torn in two. The thunder ofthe shot sounded far over the water and found an echo among the housesat Corpus Christi. 

"Now they're even shooting at the ambulance flag, " roared Ben Wood, whowas rushing about on the deck of the _President Cleveland_ and exhortingthe crew to hoist the anchor as fast as possible so as to get out to thefield of battle. But as the boiler-fires were low, this seemed to takean eternity. 

At last, about three o'clock in the afternoon, they succeeded inreaching a spot where a few hundred men were clinging to the floatingwreckage. The rest had been attended to by the enemy's shots, the seaand the sharks. 

The enemy had wasted only a few shots on the transport-steamers, as asingle well-aimed explosive shell was quite sufficient to entirelydestroy one of the merchant-vessels, and the battle with the _Olympia_had lasted only a very short time, as the distance had evidently beentoo great to enable the American shots to reach the enemy. That was theend of the _Olympia_, Admiral Dewey's flag-ship at Cavite! The twosmaller cruisers had been shot to pieces just as rapidly. 

The results of this unexpected setback were terribly disheartening, since all idea of a flank attack on the Japanese positions in the Southhad to be abandoned. 

 * * * * *

But where had the two _Dreadnoughts_ come from? They had not been seenby a living soul until they had appeared in the roads of Corpus Christi. They had risen from the sea for a few hours, like an incarnation of theghostly rumors of flying squadrons of Japanese cruisers, and they haddisappeared from the field of action just as suddenly as they had come. If it had not been for the cruel reality of the destruction of thetransport fleet, no one would soon have believed in the existence ofthese phantom ships. But the frenzied fear of the inhabitants of thecoast-towns cannot well take the form of iron and steel, and nightmares, no matter how vivid, cannot produce ships whose shells sweep an Americansquadron off the face of the sea. 

It had been known for years that two monster ships of the _Dreadnought_type were being built for Brazil in the English shipyards. No one knewwhere Brazil was going to get the money to pay for the battleships orwhat the Brazilian fleet wanted with such huge ships, but they continuedto be built. It was generally supposed that England was building them asa sort of reserve for her own fleet; but once again was public opinionmistaken. Only those who years before had raised a warning protest andbeen ridiculed for seeing ghosts, proved to be right. They hadprophesied long ago that these ships were not intended for England, butfor her ally, Japan. 

The vessels were finished by the end of June and during the last days ofthe month the Brazilian flag was openly hoisted on board the _San Paulo_and _Minas Geraes_, as they were called, the English shipbuilders havingindignantly refused to sell them to the United States on the plea offeeling bound to observe strict neutrality. The two armored battleshipsstarted on their voyage across the Atlantic with Brazilian crews onboard; but when they arrived at a spot in the wide ocean where nospectators were to be feared, they were met by six transport-steamersconveying the Japanese crews for the two warships, no others than thethousand Japs who had been landed at Rio de Janeiro as coolies for theBrazilian coffee plantations in the summer of 1908. They had beenfollowed in November by four hundred more. 

We were greatly puzzled at the time over this striking exception to theJapanese political programme of concentrating streams of immigrants onour Pacific coasts. Without a word of warning a thousand Japanesecoolies were shipped to Brazil, where they accepted starvation wagesgreatly to the disgust and indignation of the German and Italianworkmen--not to speak of the lazy Brazilians themselves. This isolatedadvance of the Japs into Brazil struck observers as a dissipation ofenergy, but the Government in Tokio continued to carry out its plans, undisturbed by our expressions of astonishment. Silently, but no lesssurely, the diligent hands of the coolies and the industrious spirit ofJapanese merchants in Brazil created funds with which the two warshipswere paid at least in part. The public interpreted it as an act ofcommendable patriotism when, in June, the one thousand four hundred Japsturned their backs on their new home, in order to defend their country'sflag. They left Rio in six transport-steamers. 

Brazil thereupon sold her two battleships to a Greek inn-keeper atSantos, named Petrokakos, and he turned them over to the merchant PietroAlvares Cortes di Mendoza at Bahia. This noble Don was on board one ofthe transport-steamers with the Japanese "volunteers, " and on board thisGlasgow steamer, the _Kirkwall_, the bill of sale was signed on July14th, by the terms of which the "armed steamers" _Kure_ and _Sasebo_passed into the possession of Japan. The Brazilian crews and someEnglish engineers went on board the transports and were landed quietlytwo weeks later at various Brazilian ports. 

These one thousand four hundred Japanese plantation-laborers, traders, artisans, and engineers--in reality they were trained men belonging tothe naval reserve--at once took over the management of the two mightyships, and set out immediately in the direction of the West Indies. AtKingston (Jamaica) a friendly steamer supplied them with the latest newsof the departure of the American transports from Cuba, and the lattermet their fate, as we saw, in the roads of Corpus Christi. 

A terrible panic seized all our cities on the Gulf of Mexico and theAtlantic coast, as the Japanese monsters were heard from, now here, nowthere. For example, several shells exploded suddenly in the middle ofthe night in the harbor of Galveston when not a warship had beenobserved in the neighborhood, and again several Americanmerchant-vessels were sent to the bottom by the mysterious ships, whichbegan constantly to assume more gigantic proportions in the reports ofthe sailors. At last a squadron was dispatched from Newport News toseek and destroy the enemy, whereupon the phantom-ships disappeared assuddenly as they had come. Not until Admiral Dayton ferreted out theJapanese cruisers at the Falkland Islands did our sailors again set eyeson the two battleships. 

_Chapter XVIII_

THE BATTLE OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS

It had been found expedient to send a few militia regiments to the frontin May, and these regiments, together with what still remained of ourregular army, made a brave stand against the Japanese outposts in themountains. Insufficiently trained and poorly fed as they were, theynevertheless accomplished some excellent work under the guidance ofefficient officers; but the continual engagements with the enemy soonthinned their ranks. These regiments got to know what it means to face abrave, trained enemy of over half a million soldiers with a small forceof fifty thousand; they learned what it means to be always in theminority on the field of battle, and thus constant experience on thebattle-field soon transformed these men into splendid soldiers. Especially the rough-riders from the prairies and the mountains, fromwhich the cavalry regiments were largely recruited, and the exceedinglyuseful Indian and half-breed scouts, to whom all the tricks of earlierdays seemed to return instinctively, kept the Japanese outposts busy. Their machine-guns, which were conveyed from place to place on the backsof horses, proved a very handy weapon. But their numbers were few, andalthough this sort of skirmishing might tire the enemy, it could noteffectually break up his strong positions. 

Ever on the track of the enemy, surprising their sentries and bivouacs, rushing upon the unsuspecting Japs like a whirlwind and then pursuingthem across scorching plains and through the dark, rocky defiles of theRockies, always avoiding large detachments and attacking theircommissariat and ammunition columns from the rear, popping up here, there and everywhere on their indefatigable horses and disappearing withthe speed of lightning, this is how those weather-beaten rough-riders intheir torn uniforms kept up the war and stood faithful guard! Bravefellows they were, ever ready to push on vigorously, even when the bloodfrom their torn feet dyed the rocks a deep red! No matter how weary theywere, the sound of the bugle never failed to endow their limbs withrenewed energy, and they could be depended on to the last man to dowhatever was required of them. 

It was on these endless marches, these reckless rides through rockywastes and silent forests--to the accompaniment of the tramp of horses, the creaking of saddles and the rush and roar of rolling stones onlonely mountain-trails--that those strange, weird rhythms and melodiesarose, which lived on long afterwards in the minds and hearts of thepeople. 

By the end of July affairs had reached the stage where it was possiblefor the Northern army, commanded by General MacArthur and consisting ofone hundred and ten thousand men, to start for the Blue Mountains in theeastern part of Oregon, and the Pacific army of almost equal strength toset out for Granger on the Union Pacific Railway. The troops from Cubaand Florida, together with the three brigades stationed at New Mexico, were to have advanced against the extreme right wing of the Japanesearmy, but the grievous disaster at Corpus Christi had completelyfrustrated this plan. 

The German and Irish volunteer regiments were formed into specialbrigades in the Northern and Pacific armies, whereas the other militiaand volunteer regiments were attached to the various divisionspromiscuously. General MacArthur's corps was composed of threedivisions, commanded by Fowler, Longworth and Wood, respectively, eachconsisting of thirty thousand men. To these must be added one German andone Irish brigade of three regiments each, about sixteen thousand menaltogether, so that the Northern army numbered about one hundred and tenthousand men and one hundred and forty guns. 

Wood's division left the encampment near Omaha the last week of July. They went by rail to Monida, where the Oregon Short Line crosses theboundary of Montana and Idaho. The same picture of utter confusion waspresented at all the stops and all the stations on the way. Soldiers ofall arms, exasperated staff-officers, excited station officials, gunswaiting for their horses and horses waiting for their guns, cavalry-menwhose horses had been sent on the wrong train, freight-cars full ofammunition intended for no one knew whom, wagons loaded with campequipment where food was wanted and with canned goods where forage wasneeded, long military trains blocking the line between stations, andengines being switched about aimlessly: perfect chaos reigned, and theshortness of the station platforms only added to the confusion and thewaste of precious time. If it had not been for the Americans' stronglydeveloped sense of humor, which served as an antidote for all the angerand worry, this execrably handled army apparatus must have broken downaltogether. But as it was, everybody made the best of the situation andthanked the Lord that each revolution of the wheels brought the troopsnearer to the enemy. The worst of it was that the trains had to stop atthe stations time and time again in order to allow the empty trainsreturning from the front to pass. 

The 28th Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers, under command of ColonelKatterfeld, had at last, after what seemed to both officers and soldiersan endless journey, reached the foothills of the Rocky Mountains on thetwenty-second of July via the Northern Pacific Railway. A warm meal hadbeen prepared for the regiment at a little station; then the roll wascalled once more and the three long trains transporting the regimentstarted off again. 

Colonel Katterfeld had soon won the affection of his men. He was a thinlittle man with grizzly hair and beard; a soldier of fortune, who had aneventful life behind him, having seen war on three continents. But henever spoke of his experiences. His commands were short and decisive, and each man felt instinctively that he was facing an able officer. Hehad given up his practice as a physician in Milwaukee, and when, at theoutbreak of the war, he had offered his services to the Governor ofWisconsin, the latter was at once convinced that here was a man uponwhom he could rely, and it had not taken Colonel Katterfeld long toestablish the correctness of the Governor's judgment. He succeeded inbeing the first to raise the full complement of men for his regiment inWisconsin, and was therefore the first to leave for the front. The rushfor officers' commissions was tremendous and the staff of officers wastherefore excellent. One day an officer, named Walter Lange, presentedhimself at the recruiting office of the regiment. When the colonel heardthe name, he glanced up from his writing, and looking inquiringly at thenewcomer, asked in an off-hand fashion: "Will you take command of theSeventh Company as captain?"

"Sir?"

"Yes, I know, you were at Elandslaagte and afterwards at Cronstadt, wereyou not?"

"Yes, sir. "

"We need some officers like you who can keep their men together whenunder fire. Do you accept or not?"

"Certainly, but----"

"We'll have no buts. "

And so the two became war-comrades for the second time, Captain Langetaking command of the Seventh Company. 

In thousands of ways the colonel gave proof of his practical experience;above all else he possessed the knack of putting the right people in theright place, and his just praise and blame aroused the ambition ofofficers and men to such an extent, that the 28th Militia Regiment soonbecame conspicuous for its excellence. But no one, not even his comradefrom Elandslaagte, succeeded in getting nearer to the colonel's heart. Colonel Katterfeld was a reticent man, whom no one dared bother withquestions. 

In order to make the best possible use of what little room there was inthe cars, the colonel had ordered two-hour watches to be kept. Half themen slept on the seats and on blankets on the floor, while the otherhalf had to stand until the order, Relieve watch! rang out at the end oftwo hours. 

Captain Lange was standing at the window looking out at the moonlitlandscape through which the train was rushing. Wide valleys, ruggedmountain peaks and steep, rocky bastions flew past. A whistle--a lowrumble in the distance--the sound of approaching wheels--a flash oflight on the track--and then the hot breath of the speeding enginesweeps across the captain's face, as a long row of black cars belongingto an empty train returning from the mountains tears past on its way tothe encampments. 

And then on and on, over bridges and viaducts, where the rolling wheelsawaken echo after echo, on into the narrow ravine, above theforest-crowned edges of which the quiet light of the stars twinkles andgleams in the purple sky of night. 

The captain was thinking of the colonel. He could not remember havingmet him on any of the South African battle-fields, and he had neverheard the name of Katterfeld. And yet he was positive he had seen thosepenetrating blue eyes beneath their bushy brows before. No one who hadonce seen it could ever forget that glance. But he racked his brain invain. He looked at the time and found that the present watch still had awhole hour to run. The soldiers were leaning sleepily against the sidesof the car, and loud snores came from the seats and the floor. Suddenlya rifle fell to the ground with a clatter and several men woke up andswore at the noise. On went the train, and the monotonous melody of therolling wheels gradually lulled the weary thoughts to sleep. 

Captain Lange thought of Elandslaagte again and of Colonel Schiel andDinizulu, the Kafir chief, and of the story the colonel had told, asthey bivouacked round the fire, of the latter's royal anointment withcastor-oil. They had made the fire with the covers of "Mellin's Food"boxes--Mellin's Food--a fine chap, Mellin--Mellin?-- Wasn't that thename of the captain with whom he had once sailed to Baltimore? And DaisyWilford had been on board with her two cats--cats-- My, how he used tochase cats when he was a boy--it was a regular hunt-- No, it hadn't beenhis fault, but Walter Wells'-- But he had been caught and shut up in theattic, where his father gave him a chance to recollect that it is cruelto torment animals--but it really had been Walter's fault, only hewasn't going to tell on him--and then, after he had been alone, he hadknocked his head against the wall in his rage at the injustice of theworld--always--knocked--his--head--against--the--wall--always--knocked----

Bang! went the captain's head against the window-frame and he woke upwith a start and put his hand up to his aching forehead. Where under thesun was he? Ah, of course--there were the soldiers snoring all aroundhim and tossing about in their sleep. He felt dead tired. Had he beenasleep? He looked at the time again--still fifty-five minutes to thenext watch. 

The roaring and clattering of the wheels came to his ears on the freshnight air as he again looked out of the window. The train had justrounded a curve, and the other two trains could be seen coming onbehind. Now they were passing through a gorge between bright rockybanks, which gleamed like snow in the moonlight. Whirling, foamingwaters rushed down the mountain-side to join the dark river far below. Then on into a dark snowshed where the hurrying beat of the revolvingwheels resounded shrilly and produced a meaningless rhythm in histhoughts. Kat--ter--feld, Kat--ter--feld, Kat--ter--feld, came the echofrom the black beams of the shed. Katter--feld, Kat--ter--feld, Kat--ter--feld, came the reply from the other side. Then the rattlingnoise spreads over a wider area. There is a final echo and the beams ofthe shed disappear in the distance, and on they go in the silent nightuntil the sergeant on duty pulls out his watch and awakens the sleeperswith the unwelcome call, Relieve the guard!

Two days later the regiment arrived at Monida, where they had to leavethe train. The line running from there to Baker City was only to be usedfor the transportation of baggage, while the troops had to march therest of the way--about two hundred and fifty miles. While thefield-kitchen wagons were being used for the first time near Monida, the men received new boots, for the two pairs of shoes which each hadreceived in camp had turned out such marvels of American manufacture, that they were absolutely worn out in less than no time. It was thoughtwiser, in consideration of the long marches before the soldiers, to doaway with shoes altogether and to provide strong boots in their stead. The hard leather of which the latter were made gave the soldiers no endof trouble, and the strange foot-gear caused a good deal of grumblingand discomfort. 

It was here that the experience of the old troopers was of value. Theold devices of former campaigns were revived. An old, gray-beardedsergeant, who had been in the Manchurian campaign against the Japanese, advised his comrades to burn a piece of paper in their boots, as the hotair would enable them to slip the boots on much more easily. CaptainLange employed a more drastic method. He made his company march througha brook until the leather had become wet and soft, and as a result hismen suffered least from sore feet on the march. 

During the ten days' march to Baker City, officers and men becamethoroughly acquainted with one another, and the many obstacles they hadhad to overcome in common cemented the regiments into real livingorganisms. And when, on the tenth of August, the different columnsreached Baker City, the Northern Army had firmly established itsmarching ability. The transport-service, too, had got over its firstdifficulties. From the front, where small detachments were continuallyskirmishing with the enemy, came the news that the Japanese hadretreated from Baker City after pulling up the rails. On the evening ofthe eleventh of August the 28th Militia Regiment was bivouacking a fewmiles east of Baker City. The outposts towards the enemy on the otherside of the town were composed of a battalion of Regulars. 

Every stone still burned with the glowing heat of the day, which spreadover the warm ground in trembling waves. The dust raised by the marchingcolumns filled the air like brown smoke. 

The last glimmer of the August day died down on the western horizon in acrimson glow, and a pale gleam of light surrounded the dark silhouettesof the mountains, throwing bluish gray shadows on their sides. Then allthe colors died out and only the stars twinkled in the dark blueheavens. Far away in the mountains the white flashes of signal-lanternscould occasionally be seen, telling of the nearness of the enemy. Colonel Katterfeld had ordered the officers of his regiment to come tohis quarters in a farm-house lying near the road, and a captain ofRegulars was asked to report on the number of skirmishes which had takenplace in the last few days and on the enemy's position. It was learnedthat Marshal Nogi had retreated from Baker City and had withdrawn histroops to the Blue Mountains, taking up his central position at thepoint of the pass crossed by the railroad. It had not been possible toascertain how far the wings of the Japanese army extended to the Northor South. It was certain that the enemy maintained strong lines ofcommunication in both directions, but it was difficult to determine justhow far their lines penetrated into the wooded slopes and valleys. 

 * * * * *

When the guard was relieved at 5 o'clock in the morning, one of thenon-commissioned officers was struck by a curiously-shaped bright cloudthe size of a hand, which hung like a ball over the mountains in thewest in the early morning light. 

"It must be an air-ship!" said some one. 

"It evidently is; it's moving!" said the sergeant, and he at once gaveorders to awaken Captain Lange. 

The captain, who had gone to sleep with the telephone beside him, jumpedup and could not at first make out where the voice came from: "AJapanese air-ship has been sighted over the mountains. " He was up in asecond and looking through his glasses! Sure enough! It was an air-ship!

Its light-colored body hovered above the mountains in the pale-blue skylike a small silver-gray tube. 

"Spread the report at once!" called the captain to the telephoneoperator; and bustle ensued on all sides. 

"What shall we do?" asked a lieutenant. "There's no use in shooting atit; by the time it gets within range we should shoot our own men. "

The air-ship came slowly nearer, and at last it was directly over theAmerican line of outposts. 

"They can see our whole position!" said Captain Lange, "they can see allour arrangements from up there. "

Boom! came the sound of a shot from the right. 

"That probably won't do much good. "

A few hundred yards below the air-ship a little flame burst out. Thesmoke from a shrapnel hung in the air for a moment like a ball ofcotton, and then that, too, disappeared. Boom! it went again. 

"We shall never reach it with shrapnel, " said the lieutenant, "there'sno use trying to beat it except on its own ground. "

"We have some newly constructed shrapnel, " answered the captain, "thebullets of which are connected with spiral wires that tear the envelopeof the balloon. "

Now two shots went off at the same time. 

"Those seem to be the balloon-guns, " said the lieutenant. 

Far below the air-ship hovered the clouds of two shrapnel shots. 

"They're getting our air-ship ready over there, " cried the captain;"that's the only sensible thing to do. " He pointed to a spot far offwhere a large, yellow motor-balloon could be seen hanging in the airlike a large bubble. 

It went up in a slanting direction, and then, after describing severaluncertain curves, steered straight for the enemy's balloon, which alsobegan to rise at once. 

Hundreds of thousands of eyes were following the course of those twolittle yellow dots up in the clear, early morning air, as the mountainedges began to be tipped with pink. The Japanese air-ship had reached aposition a little to one side of that occupied by the 28th Regiment, when a tiny black speck was seen to leave it and to gain in size as itfell with increasing velocity. When it reached the ground a vivid redflame shot up. Tremendous clouds of smoke followed, mixed with darkobjects, and the distant mountains resounded with loud peals of thunderwhich died away amid the angry rumblings in the gorges. 

"That was a big bomb, " said the captain, "and it seems to have doneconsiderable mischief. "

Now a little puff of white smoke issued from the American air-ship andten seconds later an explosive body of some sort burst against a wall ofrock. 

"If they keep on like that they'll only hit our own men, " said thelieutenant. 

"The Jap is ascending, " cried some one, and again all the field-glasseswere directed towards the two ships. 

Now both were seen to rise. 

"The Japs are throwing down everything they've got in the way ofexplosives, " cried the captain. A whole row of black spots came rushingdown and again came the thunder caused by the bursting of several bombsone after the other. 

The Jap went up rapidly and then crossed the path of the Americanballoon about two hundred yards above it. 

Suddenly the yellow envelope of the American air-ship burst into flames, lost its shape and shrunk together, and the ship fell rapidly among thevalleys to the left, looking like the skeleton of an umbrella that hasbeen out in a gale of wind. 

"All over, " said the lieutenant with a sigh. "What a shame! We mightjust as well have done that ourselves. "

High up in the blue ether hovered the Japanese air-ship; then itdescribed a curve to the left, went straight ahead and then seemedsuddenly to be swallowed up in the morning light. But soon it appearedagain as a gray speck against the clear blue sky, and turning to theright once more, got bigger and bigger, came nearer, and finally steeredback straight for the Blue Mountains. And then the thunder of cannon washeard from the right. 

 * * * * *

The assault on Hilgard, the center of the Japanese position in the broadvalley of the Blue Mountains, had failed; two regiments had bled todeath on the wire barricades outside the little town, and then all wasover. It would be necessary to break up the enemy's position by flankmovements from both sides before another attack on their center could beattempted. For two long days the artillery contest waged; thenLongworth's division on our right wing gained a little ground, and whenthe sun sank to rest behind the Blue Mountains on August 14th, we hadreason to be satisfied with our day's work, for we had succeeded, at agreat sacrifice, it is true, in wresting from the enemy severalimportant positions on the sides of the mountains. 

Towards evening six fresh batteries were sent forward to the capturedpositions, whence they were to push on towards the left wing of theJapanese center the next morning. Telephone messages to headquartersfrom the front reported the mountain-pass leading to Walla Walla freefrom the enemy, so that a transport of ammunition could be sent that wayin the evening to replenish the sadly diminished store for the decisivebattle to be fought the next day. 

While the newspapers all over the East were spreading the news of thisfirst victory of the American arms, Lieutenant Esher was commanded byGeneral Longworth to carry the orders for the next day to the officer incharge of the Tenth Brigade, which had taken up its position before themountain-pass on the right wing. For safety's sake General Longworth haddecided to send his orders by word of mouth, only giving instructionsthat the receipt of each message should be reported to headquarters byeach detachment either by field-telegraph or telephone. 

Lieutenant Esher, on his motor-cycle, passed an endless chain ofammunition wagons on his way. For a long time he could make only slowprogress on account of the numerous ambulances and other vehicles whichthe temporary field-hospitals were beginning to send back from thefront; but after a time the road gradually became clear. 

The motor rattled on loudly through the silent night, which wasdisturbed only now and then by the echo of a shot. Here and there alongthe road a sentry challenged the solitary traveler, who gave thepassword and puffed on. 

He had been informed that the quickest way to reach General Lawrencewould be by way of the narrow mountain-path that turned off to the leftof the road, which had now become absolutely impassable again on accountof innumerable transports. It was a dangerous ride, for any moment thebicycle might smash into some unseen obstacle and topple over into theabyss on the right, into which stones and loose earth were continuallyfalling as the cycle pushed them to one side. 

Lieutenant Esher therefore got off his wheel and pushed it along. At theedge of a wood he stopped for a moment to study his map by the light ofan electric pocket-lamp, when he heard a sharp call just above him. Hecould not quite make it out, but gave the password, and two shots rangout simultaneously close to him. --When Lieutenant Esher came to, hefound a Japanese army doctor bending over him. 

He had an uncertain feeling of having been carried over a rocky desert, and when he at last succeeded in collecting his thoughts, he came to theconclusion that he must have strayed from the path and run straight intothe enemy's arms. 

He tried to raise his head to see where he was, but a violent pain inhis shoulder forced him to lie still. The noises all around made itclear to him, however, that he was among Japanese outposts. The doctorexchanged a few words with an officer who had just come up, but theyspoke Japanese and Esher could not understand a word they said. 

"Am I wounded?" he asked of the ambulance soldier beside him. The latterpointed to the doctor, who said, "You will soon be all right again. "

"Where am I wounded?"

"In the right thigh, " answered the doctor, sitting down on a stone nearEsher. The doctor didn't seem to have much work to do. 

The stinging pain in his right shoulder robbed Esher of his senses for amoment, but he soon came to again and remembered his orders toLawrence's brigade. Thank God he had no written message on his person. As it was, the enemy had succeeded in capturing only a brokenmotor-cycle and a wounded, unimportant officer. The division staff wouldsoon discover by telephoning that General Lawrence had not received hisorders and then repeat the message. 

Esher managed to turn his head, and watched the Japanese officer copyingan order by the light of a bicycle lamp. The order had just beendelivered by a mounted messenger, who sat immovable as a statue on hisexhausted and panting steed. 

Suddenly the Japanese cavalryman seemed to grow enormous bats' wings, which spread out until they obscured the whole sky. The ghostly figureresembled a wild creature of fable, born of the weird fancy of a Doré, or an avenging angel of the Apocalypse. Then the rider shrank togetheragain and seemed to be bouncing up and down on the back of his horselike a little grinning monkey. 

The wounded man rubbed his eyes. What was that? Was he awake or had hebeen dreaming?

He asked the ambulance soldier for a drink, and the latter at oncehanded him some water in a tin cup. Now a real Japanese cavalryman wasonce more sitting up there on his horse, while the officer was stillwriting. Then the officer's arm began to grow longer and longer, untilat last he was writing on the sky with a fiery pencil:

"In case there is no Japanese attack on August 15th, the Tenth Brigadeunder General Lawrence is to retain its present positions until theattack of our center----"

Good Lord, what was that? Yes, those were the very words of the messagehe was to have delivered to the Tenth Brigade, and not only were thewords identical, but the hand-writing was the same, for the flamingletters had burnt themselves into his memory stroke for stroke and wordfor word and line for line. 

He tried to get up, but could not. The lieutenant kept on writing, whilethe horseman stood beside him. The horse was brushing off the flies withhis tail. 

Then the awful, maddening thought came to him: This must be thebeginning of wound-fever. If it kept up and he began to get delirious, he might betray his orders for Lawrence's brigade to the enemy. 

And he saw hundreds of Japanese standing around him, all stretchingtheir necks to catch his words, and more and more came from over themountain ridges like a swarm of ants, and they all wanted to hear thesecrets that he was trying to keep in his aching head, while the officerwaved his note-book over him like a fluttering flag. Then the doctorseized him, and arm in arm they hopped to and fro--to and fro--to andfro. 

Yes, he was certainly delirious. Lieutenant Esher thought of his home. He saw his little house on 148th Street. He came home from business, hewalked through the garden, hung up his coat on the rack, opened thedoor, his young wife welcomed him, she nodded to him--Eveline--groanedthe lieutenant, and then his thoughts turned to God. 

Then the writing officer again, the rider on his horse, and the darknight-sky, in which the stars were dancing like silver gnats. Collectinghis whole willpower, he succeeded in getting into a sitting posture, andthe Japanese soldier attending him awoke out of a doze only to find hisrevolver in the American's hands. But it was too late, for a shotresounded at the same moment. Lieutenant Esher had brought his wearybrain to rest; his head toppled over and landed hard on the rockyground. 

Thus died a real hero, and those were hard times when men of stout heartand iron courage were sorely needed. 

 * * * * *

Opposite Hilgard, the center of the enemy's position in the BlueMountains, trenches had been thrown up, and the 28th Militia Regimenthad occupied them in the night of August 13th-14th. The Japanese wereapparently not aware of their presence, as the regiment had taken nopart in the fighting on the fourteenth. On the evening of the same day, the 32d Regiment was pushed forward to the same position, while thesearchlights were playing over the plain and on the mountain sides, anddazzling the eyes of the sentries who were keeping a sharp lookout forthe enemy from various ambushes. And whenever the beam of light landedon dark shadows, which jumped quickly aside, flames shot out on theopposite side and flashes of fire from bursting shrapnel drew tremblingstreaks across the sky and lighted up the immediate neighborhood. 

The wires which connected the headquarters with all the sentries andoutposts vibrated perpetually with the thoughts and commands of a singleindividual, who managed this whole apparatus from a little schoolroom inBaker City far behind the front, allowing himself scarcely a moment formuch-needed night-rest. 

The 28th Regiment had thrown up trenches the height of a man in the hardground opposite the little town of Hilgard on the night of August13th-14th. Now a company of pioneers was busy widening them and buildingstands for the troops where they would be safe from splinters, for itwas highly probable that the assault on Hilgard would be undertakenfrom here on the following evening. The covering for these stands wasmade of thick boards and planks taken from a saw-mill near by, and overthese the dug up earth was spread. The enemy's attention seemed to bedirected elsewhere, for the reflections from the searchlights werecontinually crossing one another over to the right. In this directionmusic could be distinctly heard coming from Longworth's Division--alively march waking the echoes of the night with its clear full tones. 

Music? Those who were swearing at the stupidity of allowing the band toplay in the very face of the enemy, did not know that the troops overthere on their way to quarters had marched over forty miles that day, and that only the inspiring power of music could help the stumbling mento gather their remaining strength and press forward. 

The cheerful melody of the old Scotch song, "Gin a body, meet a body, Comin' thro' the rye, "

rang out in common time across the silent battle-field, fifes squeakingand drums rolling, while the silent searchlights continued flashing inthe dark sky. 

 "Gin a body, meet a body, Comin' thro' the rye. "

Meanwhile the picks and spades were kept going in the trenches of the28th Regiment. The earth and stones flew with a rattle over the top ofthe breastworks, making them stronger and stronger, pioneers andinfantry working side by side in the dark, hollow space. The battalionon guard kept strict watch in the direction of the enemy, continuallyexpecting to see creeping figures suddenly pop up out of the darkness. 

"Didn't you hear something, captain?" asked one of the men on watch. 

"No, where?"

A curious purring sound like the whizzing of a small dynamo becameaudible. 

Some one gave a low whistle, and the pioneers stopped work, and leanedon their spades. All the men listened intently, but no one could makeout whence the strange sound came. 

Suddenly some one spoke quite loudly and another voice replied. Up inthe air--that's where it was! A black shadow swept across the sky. "Anair-ship!" cried one of the men in the trench, and sure enough thewhirring of the screw of a motor balloon could be distinctly heard. Bang--bang--bang, went a few shots into the air. 

"Stop the fire!" called a commanding voice from above. 

"Stop! It is our own balloon!"

"No, it's a Japanese one!"

Bang--bang, it went again. From the rear came the deep bass of a big gunand close by sounded the sharp bang--bang--bang of a little balloon-gunin the second trench. There was a burst of flame up in the air, followedby a hail of metal splinters. "Cut that out. You're shooting at us!"roared Captain Lange across to the battery. 

"Stop firing!" came a quick order from there. A few cannon shots wereheard coming from the rear. 

Suddenly a bright light appeared up in the air and a white magnesiumcluster descended slowly, lighting up all the trenches in a sudden blazewhich made the pioneers look like ghosts peering over the black brink ofthe pits. Then the light went out, and the eyes trying in vain topierce the darkness saw nothing but glittering fiery red circles. TheJapanese batteries on the other side opened fire. The air-ship hadentirely disappeared, and no one knew whether the uncanny night-bird hadbeen friend or foe. 

 * * * * *

The assault on Hilgard was to be begun by the 28th and 32d Volunteers:General MacArthur had originally planned to have the attempt made atdawn on August 15th; but as one brigade of Wood's Division had not yetarrived, he postponed the attack for twenty-four hours, to the sixteenthof August, while the fifteenth was to be taken up with heavy firing onthe enemy's position, which seemed to have been somewhat weakened. Assoon, therefore, as day broke, the Americans opened fire, and all thetime that almost sixty American guns were bombarding Hilgard and sendingshell after shell over the town, and the white flakes of cotton from thebursting shrapnels hovered over the houses and almost obscured the viewof the mountains and the shells tore up the ground, sowing iron seed inthe furrows, the 28th and 32d Volunteers lay in the trenches withoutfiring a single shot. 

The commander of the 16th Brigade, to which the two regiments belonged, was in the first trench during the morning, and, in company with ColonelKatterfeld, inspected the results of the bombardment through histelescope, which had been set up in the trench. A shrapnel had justdestroyed the top of the copper church tower, which the Japanese wereusing as a lookout. 

Although the American shells had already created a great deal of havocin Hilgard, the walls of the houses offered considerable resistance tothe hail of bullets from the shrapnels. The brigadier-general thereforesent orders to the battery stationed behind and to the right of thetrenches to shell the houses on both sides of the street leading intoHilgard. 

"Shell the houses on both sides of the street leading into Hilgard!Shell the houses on both sides of the street leading intoHilgard--Shell--Hilgard, " was the command which was passed along frommouth to mouth through the trenches, until it reached the battery amidthe roar of battle. 

"--Shells--we have no shells--shrapnels--the battery has no shells, onlyshrapnels--" came back the answer after a while. 

"No shells, I might have known it, only those everlasting shrapnels. Howon earth can I shoot a town to pieces with shrapnel!" growled thebrigadier-general, going into the protected stand where the telephonehad been set up. 

"Send two hundred shells immediately by automobile from Union to the 8thBattery Volunteers stationed before Hilgard, " ordered the generalthrough the telephone-- "What, there aren't any shells at Union? Thelast have been forwarded to Longworth's Division?-- But I must have atleast a hundred; have them brought back at once from the right wing-- Noautomobile, either?" It was a wonder that the telephone didn't burstwith righteous indignation at the vigorous curses the brigadier-generalroared into it. 

But unfortunately the statement made at Union, where the field railwaybuilt from Monida for the transport service terminated, was correct. Just as in most European armies, the number of shells provided was outof all proportion to the shrapnel, and the supply of shells wasconsequently low at all times. Besides, most of the ammunition-motorshad been put out of commission early in the game. The advantage ofhigher speed possessed by the automobiles was more than offset by theirgreater conspicuousness the moment they came within range of the enemy'sguns. The clouds of dust which they threw up at once showed the enemy inwhich direction they were going, and as they were obliged to keep to themain road, the Japanese had only to make a target of the highway and doa little figuring to make short work of these modern vehicles. The greatnumber of wrecked motor cars strewn along the road proved ratherconclusively that the horse has not yet outlived its usefulness inmodern warfare. 

The officers, including the generals, had willingly dispensed with sucha dangerous mode of locomotion after the first fatal experiences, forthe staring fiery eyes of the motor betrayed its whereabouts by night, and the clouds of dust betrayed it by day. The moment an auto camepuffing along, the enemy's shots began to fall to the right and left ofit, and it was only natural, therefore, that the horse came into its ownagain, both because the rider was not bound to the main road and becausehe did not offer such a conspicuous target for the enemy's shots. 

Towards noon the Japanese batteries entrenched before Hilgard beganbombarding the 28th Regiment with shrapnel. Colonel Katterfeld thereforeordered half his men to seek protection under the stands. 

The howling and crashing of the bursting shrapnel of course had itseffect on those troops who were here under fire for the first time. Butthe shrapnel bullets rained on the wooden roofs without being able topenetrate them, and after half an hour this fact imbued the men in theirretreats with a certain feeling of security. The enemy soon stopped thisineffective fire from his field-guns, however, and on the basis ofcareful observations made from a captive balloon behind Hilgard, theJapanese began using explosive shells in place of the shrapnel. 

The very first shots produced terrible devastation. The long planks weretossed about like matches in the smoke of the bursting Shimose shells, and the slaughter when one of them landed right in the midst of theclosely packed men in one of these subterranean mole-holes wasabsolutely indescribable. Back into the trenches, therefore! But theenemy had observed this change of position from his balloon, and theshots began to rain unceasingly into the trenches. And so perfect wasthe Japanese marksmanship that the position of the long line of trenchescould easily be recognized by the parallel line of little white cloudsof smoke up above them. There was nothing more to be concealed, andaccordingly Colonel Katterfeld ordered his regiment to open fire onHilgard and on the hostile artillery entrenched before the town. 

Captain Lange lay with his nose pressed against the breastworks, carefully observing the effect of the fire through his field glasses. Although this was not his first campaign, he had nevertheless had sometrouble in ridding himself of that miserable feeling with which everynovice has to contend, the feeling that every single hostile gun andcannon is pointed straight at him. But the moment the first men of hiscompany fell and he was obliged to arrange for the removal of thewounded to the rear, his self-possession returned at once. It was hisbounden duty, moreover, to set an example of cool-headed courage to hismen, so he calmly and with some fuss lighted a cigarette, yet in spiteof the apparent indifference with which he puffed at it, it moved up anddown rather suspiciously between his lips. 

A volunteer by the name of Singley, the war-correspondent of the _NewYork Herald_, worked with much greater equanimity, but then he had beenthrough five battles before he gained permission to join the 7th Companyfor the purpose of making pencil sketches and taking photographs of theincidents of the battle. 

He now arranged a regular rest for his kodak in the breastwork of thetrench and stooped down behind the apparatus, which was directed towardsthe six Japanese guns to the left in front of the houses at Hilgard, theposition of which could only be recognized by the clouds of smoke whichascended after each shot was fired. Just then he heard the order beingpassed along to the 8th battery to give these guns a broadside ofshrapnel, and as it would probably take a few minutes before this ordercould be carried out, Singley pulled out his note-book and glanced overthe entries made during the last hour:

 No. 843. Japanese shell bursts through a plank covering. " 844. Trench manned afresh. " 845. Captain Lange smoking while under fire. " 846. Japanese shrapnels indicate the line of our trenches in the air. 

Then he put his note-book down beside him and crept under his kodakagain, carefully fixing the object-glass on the battery opposite. Nowthen! A streak of solid lightning flashed in front of the second gun, and a black funnel of smoke shot up. Click!

 No. 847. Firing at the Japanese battery before Hilgard. 

Singley exchanged the film for a new one, and then looked about foranother subject for his camera. He took off his cap and peeped carefullyover the edge of the trench. Could he be mistaken? He saw a littleblack speck making straight for the spot where he was. "A shell" rushedthrough his thoughts like a flash, and he threw himself flat on thebottom of the trench. 

With a whirring noise the heavy shell struck the back wall of thetrench. "An explosive shell!" shouted Captain Lange, "everybody down!"

The air shook with a tremendous detonation; sand and stones flew allaround, and the suffocating powder-gas took everybody's breath away; butgradually the soldiers began to recognize one another through the dustand smoke, thankful at finding themselves uninjured. 

"Captain!" called a weak voice from the bottom of the trench, "CaptainLange, I'm wounded. " The captain bent down to assist thewar-correspondent, who was almost buried under a pile of earth. 

"Oh, my legs, " groaned Singley. Two soldiers took hold of him and placedhim with his back against the wall of earth. The lower part of both histhighs had been smashed by pieces from the shell. "Will you please do mea last service?" he asked of Captain Lange. 

"Of course, Singley, what is it?"

"Please take my kodak!"

Singley himself arranged the exposure and handed the camera to thecaptain, saying: "There, it is set at one twentieth of a second. Nowplease take my picture-- Thank you, that's all right! And now you canhave me removed to the hospital!"

Before the men came to fetch him, Singley managed to add to his list:

 No. 848. Our war-correspondent, Singley, mortally wounded by a Japanese shell. Hail Columbia!

Then he closed his book and put it in his breast pocket. Five minuteslater two ambulance men carried him off to have his wounds attended to, and in the evening he was conveyed to the hospital. 

A week later Captain Lange's snapshot of the war-correspondent wasparaded in the _New York Herald_ as the dramatic close of Singley'sjournalistic career. In his way he, too, had been a hero. He died in thehospital at Salubria. 

He could claim the credit of having made the war plain to those at home. Or was that not the war after all? Were the black shadows on thephotographic plate anything more than what is left of a flower after thebotanist has pressed the faded semblance of its former self between theleaves of his collection? Certainly not much more. 

No, that is not war. Just a bursting--silently bursting shell, thescattering of a company--that is not war. 

Thousands of bursting shells, the howls of the whizzing bullets, theconstant nerve-racking crashing and roaring overhead, the deafeningcracking of splitting iron everywhere--that is war. And accompanying itall the hopeless sensation that this will never, never stop, that itwill go on like this forever, until one's thoughts are dulled by someterrible, cruel, incomprehensible, demoralizing force. Those boundingpuffs of smoke everywhere on the ground, rifle shots which have beenaimed too short and every one of which-- That abominable sharp singingas of a swarm of mosquitoes, buzz, buzz, like the buzzing of angryhornets continually knocking their heads against a window-pane. Bang!That hit a stone. Bang! two inches nearer, then--"Aim carefully, fireslowly!" calls the lieutenant in a hoarse, dry voice. You aim carefullyand fire slowly and reload. Buzz-- And then you fume with a fierceuncontrollable rage because you must aim carefully and fire slowly. Andthe whole space in front of the trenches is covered with infantrybullets glittering in the sunlight. Will it ever stop? Never! A day likethat has a hundred hours--two hundred. And if you had been there all byyourself, you would never have dreamed of shooting over the edge of thetrenches--you would most probably have been crouching down in the pit. But as you happen not to be alone, this can't be done. Will the enemy'sammunition never give out? It's awful the way he keeps on shooting. 

And that terrible thirst! Your throat is parched and your teeth feelblunt from grinding the grains of sand which fly into your face wheneveran impudent little puff of smoke jumps up directly in front of you. Sssst. The mosquitoes keep on singing, and the bees buzz perpetually. Those dogs over there, those wretches, those-- Buzz, buzz, buzz--itnever stops, never. Over there to the right somebody cracks a joke andseveral soldiers laugh. "Aim carefully, fire slowly!" sounds the warningvoice of the lieutenant. And it's all done on an empty stomach--aperfectly empty stomach. 

Just as the field-kitchen wagon had arrived this morning, a shell hadexploded in the road and it was all over with the kitchen-wagon. Howlong ago that seemed! And the bees keep on humming. Bang! that hit thesergeant right in the middle of the forehead. Is this never going tostop? Never? You chew sand, you breathe sand, burning dry sand, whichpasses through your intestines like fire. And then that horrible, faint, sickening feeling in the stomach when you feel the ambulance mencreeping up behind to take away another one of your comrades! Howterrible he looks, how he screams! You are quite incensed to think thatanybody can yell like that! What a fool! "Aim carefully, fire slowly, "warns the lieutenant. Bouncing puffs of smoke again! And sand in yourmouth and fire in your intestines. You think continually of water, beautiful, clear, ice-cold water, never-ending streams of water-- Aroaring, howling and crashing overhead, the clatter of splinters, asharp pain in your brain and a horrible feeling in your stomach and allthe time it goes buzz, buzz, buzz--ssst--ssst--buzz, buzz, buzz----

That is war, not the pictures that people see at home, all those luckypeople who have lots of water, who can go where they like and are notforced to stay where the bees keep up a continual buzz, buzz, buzz----

Colonel Katterfeld was kneeling on the ground examining the map ofHilgard and marking several positions with a pencil. He could overhearthe conversation of the soldiers under the board-covering next to hisown. 

"Do you think all this is on account of the Philippines?" asked one. 

"The Philippines? Not much. It would have come sooner or later anyhow. The Japs want the whole Pacific to themselves. We wouldn't be here if itwere only for the Philippines. "

"We wouldn't? It's on account of imperialism, then, is it?"

"Don't talk foolish. We know very well what the Japs want, imperialismor no imperialism. "

"Well, why are the papers always talking so much about imperialism?"

"They write from their own standpoint. Imperialism simply means that wewish to rule wherever the Stars and Stripes are waving. "

The colonel peeped into the adjacent cover. It was Sergeant Benting whowas speaking. 

"Right you are, Benting, " said the colonel, "imperialism is the desirefor power. Imperialism means looking at the world from a great altitude. And the nation which is without it will never inherit the earth. "

Then the colonel gave the order to fire at a house on the right side ofthe street, in which a bursting shrapnel had just effected a breach andout of which a detachment of infantry was seen to run. 

Once again, just before twilight, the battle burst out on both sideswith tremendous fury. The whole valley was hidden in clouds of smoke anddust, and flashes of fire and puffs of smoke flew up from the ground onall sides. Then evening came and, bit by bit, it grew more quiet as onebattery after the other ceased firing. The shrill whistle of an enginecame from the mountain-pass. And now, from far away, the Japanesebugle-call sounded through the silent starry night and was echoed softlyby the mountain-sides, warming the hearts of all who heard it:

[line of music]

_Chapter XIX_

THE ASSAULT ON HILGARD

It was three o'clock in the morning. Only from the left wing of Fowler'sDivision was the booming of cannon occasionally heard. From themountain-pass above came the noise of passing trains, the clash ofcolliding cars and the dull rumble of wheels. On the right all wasstill. 

A low whistle went through all the trenches! And then the regimentsintended for the assault on Hilgard crept slowly and carefully out ofthe long furrows. The front ranks carried mattresses, straw-bags, planksand sacks of earth to bridge the barbed wire barricades in case theyshould not succeed in chopping down the posts to which the wires werefastened. A few American batteries behind La Grande began firing. Theother side continued silent. 

Suddenly two red rockets rose quickly one after the other on the rightnear the mountain, and they were followed directly by two blue ones;they went out noiselessly high up in the air. Was it a signal of friendor foe? The regiments came to a halt for a moment, but nothing furtherhappened, except that the two searchlights beyond Hilgard kept theireyes fixed on the spot where the rockets had ascended. A dog barked inthe town, but was choked off in the middle of a howl. Then death-likestillness reigned in front once more, but several cannon thundered inthe rear and a few isolated shots rang out from the wooded valleys onthe left. 

The front ranks had reached the wire barricades. Suddenly a sharp cryof pain broke the silence and red flames shot forth from the ground, lighting up the posts and the network of wires. Several soldiers wereseen to be caught in the wires, which were apparently charged withelectricity. Now was the time! The pioneers provided with rubber glovesto protect them against the charged wires went at it with a vengeance, and were soon hacking away with their axes. Loud curses and cries ofpain were heard here and there. "Shut up, you cowards!" yelled some onein a subdued voice. The black silhouettes of the men, who were tossinglong boards and bags of earth on top of the wires, stood out sharplyagainst the light of the explosives with which the Americans wereattempting to loosen the supporting posts. 

[Illustration: Diagram of the Battle of Hilgard]

The light of the dancing flames fell on swaying, leaping figures. Shots rang out constantly, millions of sparks flew all around andthrough all the din could be distinguished the short, sharprattatattatt--rrrrr--rattatattatt of the machine-guns, sounding morelike cobble-stones being emptied out of a cart than anything else. 

Hell had meanwhile broken loose on the other side. The attackingregiments were exposed to a perfectly terrific rifle-fire from thehouses and streets of Hilgard, which was accompanied by a destructivecannonade. But on they went! Over the corpses of the slain who hadbreathed their last jammed in among the deadly wires, over the swayingplanks and through the gaps made by the exploding bombs, the battalionsswept on with loud shouts of Hurrah! What mattered it that themachine-guns, which they had brought along, were sometimes draggedthrough furrows of blood! On they went! The field-batteries to the rightand left of the first houses and two of the enemy's machine-guns just infront of the barricade were in the hands of the 28th Regiment, and nowthey advanced against the houses themselves. But it was utterlyimpossible to get a foot further. A whole battalion was sacrificedbefore the high barricade at the entrance to the main street, but stillthey went on! There were no storming-ladders, and after all they werehardly needed, for human pyramids were speedily run up against thewalls, and up these soldiers scrambled, assisted from below, until atlast they were high enough to shoot into the loop-holes. Others aided inthe work with axes and the butt-ends of their guns, and before long theAmericans had gained possession of several houses. All of the enemy'ssearchlights concentrated their glare on the town, so that the fightingwas done in a brilliant light. The white top of the church-tower seemedstrangely near, while reddish-gold reflections played on the torn copperroof. 

But no reënforcements came from the rear, and it was no wonder, for afurious fire from the enemy's artillery and machine-guns swept acrossthe space in front of Hilgard, raining bullets and balls upon thetrenches, out of which new battalions climbed again and again; the shotsplowed up the land into glowing furrows and created an impassablefire-zone between the trenches and the nearest houses of Hilgard, whenceshrieking bugle-calls begged for immediate assistance. If the enemyshould succeed in throwing reënforcements into Hilgard, he would have nodifficulty in dislodging the Americans from the positions they had won. Suddenly an attack from the wooded valley on the left at last broughtrelief. It was the Irish brigade under General O'Brien that came on likea whirlwind, quite unexpectedly, and joined in the fight. 

This attack threw back the advancing Japanese reënforcements. Theregiments could be seen retreating in the pale light of dawn, and thenthey were seen to form in line on the rising ground behind. Betweenthem and the rear of the town lay the Irish sharpshooters, who wentforward by leaps and bounds. But the furious artillery fire from theenemy brought the fighting temporarily to a stand-still. 

Wild confusion reigned on all sides as dawn broke. The 17th JapaneseInfantry Regiment was still battling with the two American regiments forthe possession of the front houses of Hilgard, and the two Japanesebattalions in the rear of the town directed their fire on the compactcolumns of the Third Irish Regiment, which had not yet been formed intoline for shooting. It was a critical moment, and everything dependedupon the rapidity with which the Japanese resistance in Hilgard could beovercome. 

In the houses and on the illuminated streets a furious hand-to-handencounter was going on, the men rushing at one another with bayonets andthe butt-ends of their guns. No effort was made to keep the men orregiments together. Where the weapons had been destroyed or lost in themad scramble, the soldiers fought like gorillas, tearing one another'sflesh with teeth and nails. On all sides houses were on fire, and thefalling beams and walls, the bursting flames, the showers of descendingsparks, and the bursting shrapnels killing friend and foe alike, createdan indescribable jumble. 

At last reënforcements arrived in the shape of a regiment which had lostmore than half its men in passing through the fire-zone in front ofHilgard. 

"Where is Colonel Johnson?"

"Over there, on the other side of the street. "

"A prisoner?" asked some one. 

"I guess not, they're not making prisoners and we aren't either. "

Slowly it grew lighter. 

The Irish in the rear of Hilgard had hard work to maintain theirposition. To dislodge the enemy, it was absolutely necessary to turn hisflank; otherwise there was no chance of advancing further. Each line ofsharpshooters that leaped forward was partially mowed down by theterrible machine-guns. The enemy didn't budge an inch. 

General O'Brien had already dispatched five orderlies to Fowler'sdivision with instructions to attack the enemy from the left, but allfive had been shot down the moment they left their cover. Something hadto be done at once, or the entire brigade would be destroyed. 

Suddenly Corporal Freeman, who had crept up along the ground, appearedbeside the General. 

"Here, sir, " he cried, his face beaming, "here's the connection foryou. " And he shoved a telephone apparatus towards O'Brien. He haddragged the connecting wire behind him through the entire fire-zone. 

"You must be a wizard!" cried the General, and then seizing theinstrument he called: "Throw all the troops you can possibly get hold ofagainst the right wing of the Japanese in front of us! The enemy'sposition is weakened, but we can't attack the ridge in the front fromhere. "

Several minutes passed--minutes pregnant with destruction. The burstingshells thinned the ranks terribly, while the infantry fire continued tosweep along the ground, but worst of all, the ammunition of the Irishregiments was getting low. Several batteries were planted between theruins of the houses in Hilgard, but even then the enemy did not budge. 

Then came a great rush from the left: Cavalry, Indian scouts, regularcavalry, cavalry militia, volunteer regiments, and behind them all themachine-guns and the field-artillery--a perfect avalanche of humanbeings and horses wrapped in thick clouds of smoke from which showers ofsparks descended. 

That was our salvation. A wild shout of joy from the Irishmen rose abovethe din of battle, and after that there was no restraining them. Thefront ranks of the cavalry were mown down like sheaves of corn by thebullets of the enemy's machine-guns; but that made no difference, onthey went, on, ever on! Whole regiments were cut to pieces. Hundreds ofsaddles were emptied, but the riders came on just the same, and evenbefore they had reached the Irish sharpshooters, every man who wore thegreen was headed for the ridge almost without waiting for the word ofcommand!

It was an assault the enemy could not possibly repulse. The Irish andthe cavalry were right among their firing lines; a battery galloped upinto the hostile ranks, crushing dead and wounded beneath its wheels. Bloody shreds of flesh were sticking to the gun-barrels, and torn limbsand even whole bodies were whirled round and round in the spokes of thewheels. 

Shrill bugle-calls resounded. The horses were wheeled around and thebattery unlimbered. A hostile shell suddenly struck the shaft of thegun-carriage, and in a second the horses were a bloody mass of legswildly beating the air and of writhing, groaning bodies. 

But the gun was in position. And now out with the ammunition! Bang! wentthe first shot, which had been in the barrel, and then everybody lent ahand; an Indian scout, bleeding at the shoulder, and an engineer helpedpass the shells, while a mortally wounded gunner shoved the cartridgeinto the barrel. 

"Aim up there to the left, near the two detached pine-trees, six hundredyards, " roared a lieutenant, whose blood-covered shirt could be seenbeneath his open uniform. 

"The two pines to the left, " answered the gunner, lying across thebracket-trail. Bang! off went the shot, and a line of Japanesesharpshooters rose like a flock of quail. 

More cannon, more machine-guns, more ammunition-carts rushed up in madhaste; the batteries kept up a continual fire. 

The battle moved on farther to the front. The houses of Hilgard were allin flames; only the white top of the church-tower still projected abovethe ruins. On the right of the town one column after another marchedpast to the strains of regimental music. 

An orderly galloped past, and some one called out to him: "How arethings in front?" "Fine, fine, we're winning!" came the answer, whichwas greeted with jubilant cheers. Gradually the enemy's shots becamescarcer as the battle advanced up the slopes. 

Engineers were hard at work getting the streets of Hilgard cleared so asto save the troops the detour round the outside of the town. The burninghouses were blown up with dynamite, and a temporary hospital wasestablished near the city, to which the wounded were brought from allparts of the battle-field. 

By noon Hilgard was sufficiently cleared to allow the 36th MilitiaRegiment (Nebraska) to pass through. On both sides of the streets weresmoking ruins filled with dead and dying and charred remains. The stepsof the battalion sounded strangely hollow as the first company turnedinto the square where the white church still stood almost intact in themidst of the ruins. A wounded soldier was calling loudly for water. 

What was that? Were the bells tolling? The soldiers involuntarilysoftened their step when they heard it. Yes, the bells were tolling, slowly at first and low, but then the peals rang out louder and louderuntil a great volume of sound burst through the little windows in thewhite church-spire. Ding--dong, ding--dong----

The flag-bearer of the first company lowered his flag and the soldiersmarched past in silence. The captain rode over to the entrance to thetower and looked in. A little boy, about ten years old, was tugging andstraining at the heavy bell-ropes. There seemed to be a number ofwounded soldiers in the church, as loud groans could be heard throughthe half-open door. 

The captain looked about him in astonishment. Near a post he saw twoJapanese, presenting a fearful spectacle in the convulsions of death. Close to them lay an American foot-soldier, writhing with pain from abayonet-wound in the abdomen; and over in the farther corner he coulddistinguish a woman, dressed in black, lying on a ragged mattress. Ding--dong, ding--dong, rang the bells up above, but the noise of battledid not penetrate here. 

"What are you doing, sonny?" asked the captain. 

"I'm ringing the bells for mother, " said the little fellow. 

"For mother?"

"General, " called a weak voice from the corner, "please let the boyalone. I want to hear our bells just once more before I die. "

"What's the matter, are you wounded?" asked the captain. 

"I feel that I'm dying, " was the answer; "a bullet has entered my lung;I think it's the lung. "

"I'll send you a doctor, " said the captain, "although we----"

"Don't bother, general; it wouldn't do any good. "

"How did you get here?"

"My husband, " came the answer in a weak voice, "is lying across thestreet in our burning home. He was the minister here in Hilgard. Theselast days have been fearful, general; you have no idea how fearful. First they shot my husband, and then our little Elly was killed by apiece of shell when I was running across the street to the church withher and the boy. " She paused a moment, and then continued with growingagitation: "It's enough to make one lose faith in the wisdom of the Lordto see this butchery--all the heartrending sorrow that's created in theworld when men begin to murder one another like this. You don't realizeit in the midst of the battle, but here-- And as God has seen fit tospare His church in the battle, I asked the boy to ring the bells oncemore, for I thought it might be a comfort to some of those dying outthere to hear a voice from above proclaiming peace after these awfuldays. Let him keep on ringing, general, won't you?"

"Can I help you in any way?" asked the captain. 

"No, only I should like some water. "

The captain knelt down by the side of the poor, deserted woman andhanded her his flask. 

She drank greedily, and then thanked him and began to sob softly. "Whatwill become of my boy? My poor husband----"

"My good woman, " said the captain, forcing himself to speak bluntly, "it's not a question of this boy, or of a single individual who hasfallen in battle, but rather of a great people which has just defeatedthe enemy. The widows and orphans will be taken care of by thesurvivors, now that the Lord has given us the victory. Those who arelying outside the town and those here have surrendered their lives fortheir country, and the country will not forget them. "

Ding--dong, ding--dong, went the bells as the captain left the church, deeply affected. Ding--dong, ding--dong. Thousands out on thebattle-field in the throes of death, and the many unfortunates lyingwith broken limbs in the burning houses and watching the flamescreeping towards them, heard that last call from on high, like a callfrom God, Who seemed to have turned away from our people. 

And then evening came, the evening of the sixteenth of August, which isrecorded with bloody letters on the pages of our country's history. Soonall the reserves were engaged in battle. Our splendid regiments couldnot be checked, so eager were they to push forward, and they succeededin storming one of the enemy's positions after the other along themountain-side. At last the enemy began to retreat, and the thunder ofthe cannon was again and again drowned in the frenzied cheers. GeneralMacArthur was continually receiving at his headquarters reports of freshvictories in the front and on both wings. 

The telegraph wires had long ago spread the glad tidings over the lengthand breadth of the land. Great joy reigned in every town, the Stars andStripes waved proudly from all the houses, and the people's hearts werefluttering with exultation. 

General MacArthur, whose headquarters were located near Hilgard, waswaiting for news of Fowler's Division, which had orders to advance onthe pass through the valleys on the left wing. They were to try andoutflank the enemy's right wing, but word was sent that they had metwith unexpected resistance. It appeared, therefore, that the enemy hadnot yet begun to retreat at that point. 

On the other hand, things were going better in the center. But what wasthe good of this reckless advance, of this bold rush, which builtbridges of human bodies across the enemy's trenches and formed livingladders composed of whole companies before the enemy's earthworks--whatwas the good of all this heroic courage in the face of Marshal Nogi'srelentless calculations? He was overjoyed to see regiment afterregiment storm towards him, while from his tent he gave directions forthe sharp tongs of the Japanese flanks to close in the rear of GeneralMacArthur's army. 

About seven o'clock in the evening the surprising news came from theright wing that the batteries which had begun firing on the enemy'slines retreating along the railway line were suddenly being shelled fromthe rear, and begged for reënforcements. But there were no reservesleft; the last battalion, the last man had been pushed to the front! Howdid the enemy manage to outflank us?

Imploringly, eagerly, the telephone begged for reënforcements, forbatteries, for machine-guns, for ammunition. The transport section ofthe army service corps had been exhausted long ago, and all theammunition we had was in front, while a wide chasm yawned between thefighting troops and the depots far away in the blue distance. GeneralMacArthur had nothing left to send. 

And now from Indian Valley came the request for more machine-guns, butthere wasn't one left. General MacArthur telegraphed to Union, theterminus of the field-railway, but the answer came that no assistancecould be given for several hours, as the roadbed had first to berepaired. From Toll Gate, too, came stormy demands for moreammunition--all in vain. 

And then, at eight o'clock, when the sun had sunk like a ball of fire inthe west, and the Blue Mountains, above which hovered puffs of smokefrom the bursting shrapnel, were bathed in the golden evening light andthe valley became gradually veiled in darkness, the crushing news camefrom Baker City that large, compact bodies of Japanese troops had beenseen on the stretch of broken-down railroad near Sumpter. Soonafterwards Union reported the interruption of railway communicationwith the rear and an attack with machine-guns by Japanese dismountedcavalry, while Wood's division in the front continued to report thecapture of Japanese positions. 

With relentless accuracy the arms of the gigantic tongs with which Nogithreatened to surround the entire Army of the North began to close. TheAmerican troops attacking both flanks had not noticed the Japanesereserves, which had been held concealed in the depressions and shallowvalleys under cover of the woods. Two miles more to the right and left, and our cavalry would have come upon the steel teeth of the huge tongs, but there was the rub: they hadn't gone far enough. 

About ten o'clock in the evening Baker City, which was in flames, wasstormed by the Japanese, Indian Valley having already fallen into theirhands. The attack in front, high up in the mountains, began to waver, then to stop; a few captured positions had to be abandoned, and down inthe valley near La Grande, whence the field-hospitals were being removedto the rear, the ambulances and Red Cross transports encountered thetroops streaming back from Baker City. One retreating force caught upwith the other, and then night came--that terrible night of destruction. Again the cannon thundered across the valley, again the machine-gunsjoined in the tumult, while the infantry fire surged to and fro. 

You may be able to urge an exhausted or famished troop on to a finalassault, you may even gain the victory with their last vestige ofenergy, their last bit of strength, provided you can inspire them withsufficient enthusiasm; but it is impossible to save a lost cause withtroops who have been hunted up and down for twenty-four hours and whosenerves are positively blunt from the strain of the prolonged battle. 

The exhausted regiments went back, back into the basin of the BlueMountains, into a flaming pit that hid death and destruction in itsmidst. The headquarters, too, had to be moved back. General MacArthurlost his way in the darkness, and, accompanied by a single officer, rodeacross the bloody battle-field right through the enemy's line of fire. 

He soon ran across a cavalry brigade belonging to Longworth's division, and at once placed himself at its head and led an onslaught on aJapanese regiment. A wild _mêlée_ ensued in the darkness, and, althoughonly a few hundred riders remained in their saddles, the attack hadcleared the atmosphere and the wavering battalions gained new courage. 

General MacArthur ordered a retreat by way of Union, employing Wood'sdivision, which was slowly making its way back to Hilgard, to cover theretreat. Regiment after regiment threatened to become disbanded, andonly the determined action of the officers prevented a general rout. Thedecimated regiments of Wood's division stood like a wall before theruins of Hilgard; they formed a rock against which the enemy's troopsdashed themselves in vain. In this way Fowler's and Longworth'sdivisions succeeded in making a fair retreat, especially as the enemy'sstrength was beginning to become exhausted. The uncertainty of a nightattack, when the fighting is done with bandaged eyes, as it were, and itbecomes impossible to control the effect of one's own firing, contributed also towards weakening the Japanese attacks. The thin linesof hostile troops from Baker City and from the north, which hadthreatened to surround our army, were pierced by the determined assaultsof the American regiments; and although our entire transport service andnumerous guns remained in possession of the enemy, our retreat by way ofUnion was open. 

At dawn on the seventeenth of August the remains of Wood's divisionbegan to leave Hilgard, which they had so bravely and stubbornlydefended, the heroes retreating step by step in face of the enemy'sartillery fire. 

General MacArthur stopped just outside of Union and watched theregiments--often consisting only of a single company--pass in silence. He frowned with displeasure when he saw Colonel Smeaton riding alone inthe middle of the road, followed by two foot-soldiers. The colonel wasbleeding from a wound in his forehead. 

General MacArthur gave spurs to his horse and rode towards the colonel, saying: "Colonel, how can you desert your regiment?"

Colonel Smeaton raised himself in his stirrups, saluted, and said: "Ihave the honor to report that only these two, Dan Woodlark and AbrahamBent, are left of my regiment. They are brave men, general, and Iherewith recommend them for promotion. "

The general's eyes grew moist, and, stifling a sigh, he held out hishand to Colonel Smeaton: "Forgive me, " he said simply, "I did not intendto hurt your feelings. "

"Nonsense!" cried the colonel. "We'll begin over again, general, we'llsimply start all over again. As long as we don't lose faith inourselves, nothing is lost. "

Those were significant words spoken that seventeenth day of August. 

_Chapter XX_

A FRIEND IN NEED

The attitude towards the war in Australia was entirely different fromthat of Europe. Everyone realized that this was not an ordinary war, buta war upon which the future of Australia depended. If the Japanesesucceeded in conquering a foot of land in North America, if a singlestar was extinguished on the blue field of the American flag, it wouldmean that the whole continent lying in Asia's shadow would also fall aprey to the yellow race. 

The early reports from the Philippines and from San Francisco, and thecrushing news of the destruction of the Pacific fleet, swept like awhirlwind through the streets of Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Wellingtonand Auckland, and gave rise to tremendous public demonstrations. Business came to a stand-still, for the Australian people had ears onlyfor the far-off thunder of cannon, and their thoughts were occupied withthe future. Huge open-air mass-meetings and innumerable demonstrationsbefore the American consulates bore witness to Australia's honestsympathy. The time had arrived for the fifth continent to establish itspolitical status in the council of nations. 

In Sydney the mob had smashed the windows of the Japanese consulate. Satisfaction was at once categorically demanded from London, where thegovernment trembled at the bare idea of a hostile demonstration againstits ally. The apology was to take the form of a salute to the Japaneseflag on the consulate by a coast battery, etc. But the Australiangovernment refused point blank to do this, and contented itself with asimple declaration of regret; and as there was no other course open tohim, the Japanese Consul had to be satisfied. But in Tokio this affairwas entered on the credit side of the Anglo-Japanese ledger, offsettingthe debt of gratitude for August 10, 1904, when the English fleetconstituted the shifting scenery behind Togo's battleships. 

A great many of the Japanese located in Australia had left the countrybefore the outbreak of the war to join the army of invasion, and thosewho remained behind soon recognized that there was no work for themanywhere on the continent. When they refused to take this hint and makethemselves scarce, Australian fists began to remind them that the periodof Anglo-Mongolian brotherhood was a thing of the past. The last of theJapanese settlers were put aboard an English steamer at Sydney and toldto shift for themselves. The Chinese, too, began to leave the country, and wherever they did not go of their own accord, they were told inpretty plain language that the yellow man's day in Australia was ended. 

Australia, up to this time merely an appendage of the Old World, acolony which had received its blood from the heart of the British Empireand its ideas from the nerve-center in Downing Street, which hadhitherto led a purely dependent existence, now awoke and began todevelop a political life of its own. And this development, born of theoutbreak of Mongolian hostilities, could not be restrained. The time hadpassed when the European nations could say: The world's history iscreated by us, other nations are of no account. 

Once before Australia had taken an active part in politics. That waswhen the Union Jack was threatened, when British regiments were meltingaway before the rifles of a peasant people at Magersfontein, Colenso andGraspan, when Ladysmith was being besieged, and Downing Street trembledfor the safety of the empire. Then, in the hour of dire need, a cry forhelp went out to all the peoples dwelling beneath the Union Jack, whoseflagstaff was being shaken by sturdy peasant hands. And the colonialtroops heard the call and responded nobly. Australian and Canadianheroism was ushered into being on the grassy plains and kopjes of theTransvaal. They may not have been good to look at and their manners werenot those of the drawing-room, but England opened her arms to thosesplendid fellows from the Australian bush and was glad to use them inher hour of need--but afterwards she forgot them. But those days werenot so soon forgotten in Australia; there are too many men still goingaround with one arm or a wooden leg. The gentlemen in Downing Street, however, have short memories, and the debt of thanks they owed thecolonies quickly slipped their minds. 

For the sake of her bales of cotton, her export lists, and her Indianpossessions, the London government threw all the traditions of theBritish world empire overboard and forgot that Old England's problem ofcivilization was the conquest of the world for the Anglo-Saxon race. Forthe sake of her London merchants, Old England betrayed Greater Britain, which in the calculations of the London statesmen was only ageographical conception, while the nations without credulously acceptedthe decisions of English politics as the gospel of British power. 

England offered the hand of fellowship to the Japanese parvenu simplybecause she wanted some one to hold her Russian rival in check. 

What the Manchurian campaign cost England can be figured out exactly, to the pound and shilling. She simply purchased the downfall of Russiawith the loan of a few hundred millions to Japan--an excellent bargain. 

But Sir Charles Dilke was beginning to open the people's eyes. "AnotherJapanese loan, " he cried, "will slip a sharp dagger into the hand of ourgreatest commercial rival. "

England, however, would not listen, and after the war she only drew thebonds of the alliance closer for fear of the Japanese ants who werecreeping secretly into India and whispering into the people's ears thatthe dominion of a few hundred thousand white men over three hundredmillion Indians was based solely on the legend of the superiority of thewhite race, a legend which Mukden and Tsushima had completely nullified. 

After all, London was at liberty to adopt any policy it liked; but inthis particular case the colonies were expected to bear the entirecosts. And this was the gratitude for the aid given in South Africa forcustoms favors extended to English goods at Ottawa, Cape Town, andMelbourne. Deliberately disregarding the warnings of Sir WilfredLaurier, of Seddon, and of Deakin, who clearly recognized the proximityof the danger, the gentlemen in London insisted upon unrestrictedJapanese immigration into the colonies, although Hawaii furnished aneloquent example of how quickly coolie immigrants can transform anAnglo-Saxon colony into a Japanese one. 

In South Africa, too, England was sowing trouble with Mongolian miners, until the Africanders took it upon themselves to rid their country ofthis yellow plague. 

In consideration of the existing alliance with Japan, Downing Streetdemanded of Canada and Australia that the Japanese settlers should begranted equal privileges with the white man. New Zealand's primeminister, Seddon, a resolute man whose greatness is not appreciated inEurope, brought his fist down on the table with a vengeance at the lastColonial Conference in London and appealed to Old England's consciencein the face of the yellow danger. All in vain. Although he persisted inproclaiming New Zealand's right to adhere to her exclusive immigrationlaws, it was several years before Australia and Canada awoke to arealization of the dangers which the influx of Japanese coolies held instore for them, and before they began to prepare for an energeticresistance. 

Then, in August, 1908, came the American fleet. Great was the rejoicingin all the Australian coast towns, and the welcome extended to theAmerican sailors and marines proved to the world that hearts werebeating in unison here in the fear of future catastrophes. Never has thefeeling of the homogeneousness of the white race, of the Anglo-Saxonrace, celebrated such festivals, and when the Australians and Americansshook hands at parting, the former realized that a brother was leavingwith whom they would one day fight side by side--when the crisis cameand the die was cast which was to decide whether the Pacific should beruled by the Anglo-Saxon or the Mongolian race. 

And now the danger that had been regarded as likely to make itself feltdecades hence had become a terrible reality in less than no time. Thejoint Japanese foe was actually on American soil, the American dominionover the Philippines and Hawaii had been swept away at the first onset, and the great brother nation of the United States was struggling for itsexistence as a nation and for the future of the white race. 

What had become of Great Britain's imperialism, of the All-British idea, for the sake of which Australia, Canada, and New Zealand had sent theirsons to South Africa? England, whose grand mission it was to protectthe palladium of Anglo-Saxon dominion, stood aloof in this conflict. 

The cabinet of St. James had sent a warning to Ottawa not to permitCanadian volunteers to enter the United States, and similar instructionshad been forwarded to Melbourne and Wellington. 

But when England, at Japan's instigation, tried to persuade the Europeanpowers to compel Mexico to prevent American volunteer regiments fromcrossing the frontier by concentrating her army opposite El Paso, Germany frustrated this plan by declaring that the acknowledgment of theMonroe Doctrine as a political principle in 1903 rendered it impossiblefor her to meddle in America's political affairs. In spite of thisfailure, the cabinet of St. James continued to play the rôle ofinternational watchman, and employed the influence secured by _ententes_in previous years to carefully prevent other European governments fromviolating the laws of neutrality towards Japan. It was, of course, theworry over India which made the English government, generally veryelastic in its views regarding neutrality, all at once so extremelyvirtuous. 

London felt very uncomfortable when, in July, a Canadian paper publishedan alleged conversation between a Japanese and an English diplomatist. "What will Great Britain do in case of war?" the Japanese is said tohave asked, whereupon he received the ambiguous answer: "Her duty. "Then, with the daring candor assumed by these people when they feel thatthey are masters of the situation, the Japanese had declared: "TheLondon government must bear in mind that the continuation of Britishrule in India depends absolutely on the wishes of Japan; that England, in other words, can support the United States only at the price of anIndian insurrection. "

This conversation, which was published by a curious act of indiscretion, and of course at once denied in London, nevertheless threw a flood oflight on England's political situation. Japan did not directly ask formilitary aid, which, as a matter of fact, she had no right to expectunder the terms of the second Anglo-Japanese agreement, but she diddemand favorable neutrality on the part of Great Britain as the guardianof the mobile forces of the Anglo-Saxon world-empire; in other words, Japan insisted that England should betray her own race for the sake ofIndia. 

This political trick of the Japanese government was the yellow man'srevenge for the half promises with which England had driven Japan intothe conflict with Russia, and then; after the outbreak of the war, hadoffered only meager messages of sympathy instead of furnishing theexpected military assistance. 

England's destiny now hung in the balance; the threads reaching fromOttawa, Cape Town, Melbourne, and Wellington to Downing Street werebecoming severed, not by a sword-cut, but by England's own policy. 

If imperialism should leave no room for a "white" policy, then Australiaand Canada must throw off the burdensome fetters which threatened tohand over the white man under the Union Jack, bound hand and foot, tothe Mongolians. 

It was not easy to come to such a decision, and it was months before itwas finally reached. But one day, towards the end of August, the entireAustralian press advertised for volunteers for the American army. Thousands responded, and no one asked where the large sums of money camefrom with which these men were provided with arms and uniforms. 

A vehement Japanese protest, sent by way of London, only elicited thereply that the Australian government had received no officialnotification of the enlistment of volunteers for the United States, andwas therefore not in a position to interfere in any such movement. 

A feeling of joyous confidence reigned among the volunteers; they weregoing to take the field and fight for their big brother. The racialfeeling, so strong in every white man, had been aroused and couldwithstand any Mongolian attack. By October the first steamers ofvolunteers left for America. As there were no Japanese or Chinese spiesleft, and as the government kept a strict watch on the entire news andtelegraph service, the departure of the steamers remained concealed fromthe enemy. As Japanese ships were cruising in the Straits of Magellan, the route via Suez was chosen, and in due course the steamers arrivedsafely at Hampton Roads. 

Wherever the conscience of the Anglo-Saxon race was not wrapped in balesof cotton and in stock quotations, wherever the feeling of Anglo-Saxonsolidarity still inspired the people, there was a stir. And so theobjections of the London government were not heeded in the colonies. 

Why should the citizen of Canada, of British Columbia, care for DowningStreet's consideration for India, when he was suffering commerciallyfrom the yellow invasion just as much as the citizen of the UnitedStates, and when he realized that he would surely be the next victim ifthe Japanese should be victorious this time?

In this epoch-making hour of the world's history, England had neglectedher bounden duty, because she was indissolubly bound to Japan. By thesame right with which George Washington had once raised the flag, crowdsof men streamed across the frontier from Canada and British Columbia, and by that same right Ottawa now categorically demanded the removal ofthe Japanese ships from the harbor of Esquimault. "They must eitherlower their flag and disarm, or they must leave the harbor!" wrote theCanadian papers, and the Canadian Secretary of State, William Mackenzie, couched the protest which he sent to London in similar terms. It wasrecognized in London that threats were no longer of avail in the face ofthis spontaneous enthusiasm. England had staked much and lost. 

Canadian and Australian regiments were soon found fighting side by sidewith their American brothers. And now at last, with the united good-willof two continents behind us, there was a fair prospect of the earlyrealization of the boastful words uttered by the American press at thebeginning of the war: "We'll drive the yellow monkeys into thePacific. "

_Chapter XXI_

DARK SHADOWS

Autumn had come, and all was serene at the seat of war, except for a fewinsignificant skirmishes. Slowly, far more slowly than the impatience ofour people could stand, the new bodies of troops were prepared foraction, and before we could possibly think of again assuming theoffensive, winter was at the door. 

In the middle of November, three Japanese orderlies, bearing a whiteflag of truce, rode up to our outposts, and a few days later it waslearned from Washington that the enemy had offered to make peace, theterms of which, however, remained a mystery for a short time, until theywere ultimately published in the capital. 

The States of Washington, Oregon, Nevada, and California were to becomeJapanese possessions, but at the same time continue as members of theUnion. They were to have Japanese garrisons and to permit Japaneseimmigration; the strength of the garrisons was to be regulated later. Inthe various State legislatures and in the municipal administration halfthe members were to be Americans and half Japanese. If these terms wereaccepted, Japan would relinquish all claim to further immigration ofJapanese to the other States of the Union. The United States was to payJapan a war-indemnity of two billion dollars, in installments, exclusiveof the sums previously levied in the Pacific States. San Francisco wasto be Japan's naval port on the Pacific coast, and the navy-yard andarsenals located there were to pass into the hands of the Japanese. ThePhilippines, Hawaii and Guam were to be ceded to Japan. 

A universal cry of indignation resounded from the Atlantic to theRockies in answer to these humiliating terms of peace. To acknowledgedefeat and keep the enemy in the country, would be sealing the doom ofAmerican honor with a stroke of the pen. No! anything but that! Let usfight on at any price! At thousands of mass meetings the same cry washeard: Let us fight on until the last enemy has been driven out of thecountry. 

But what is public opinion? Nothing more than the naïve feeling of themasses of yesterday, to-day and perhaps the day after to-morrow. Theterrible sacrifices claimed by the war had not been without effect. Ofcourse there was no hesitation on the part of the old American citizensnor of the German, Scandinavian and Irish settlers--they would allremain faithful to the Star Spangled Banner. But the others, thethousands and hundreds of thousands of Romanic and Slavonic descent, theItalian and Russian proletariat, and the scum of the peoples of AsiaMinor, all these elements, who regarded the United States merely as apromising market for employment and not as a home, were of a differentopinion. 

And these elements of the population now demanded the reëstablishment ofopportunities for profitable employment, insisting upon their rights asnaturalized citizens, which had been so readily accorded them. Scarcelyhad the first storm of indignation passed, when other public meetingsbegan to be held--loud, stormy demonstrations, which usually ended in agrand street row--and to this were added passionate appeals from theSocialist leaders to accept Japan's terms and conclude peace, in orderthat the idle laborer might once more return to work. 

And this feeling spread more and more and gradually became a force inpublic life and in the press, and unfortunately the agitation was notentirely without effect on those elements of the population whoseAmerican citizenship was not yet deeply rooted. However indignant thebetter elements may have felt at first over this cowardly desertion ofthe flag, the continual repetition of such arguments evokedfaint-hearted considerations of the desirability of peace in everwidening circles. 

The fighting of our troops on the plateaus of the Rocky Mountains nolonger formed the chief topic of conversation, but rather the profferedterms of peace, which were discussed before the bars, on the street, atmeetings, and in the family-circle. 

Scarcely a fortnight after the presentation of the Japanese offer ofpeace, two bitterly hostile parties confronted each other in the Union:the one gathered round the country's flag full of determination andenthusiasm, the other was willing to sacrifice the dollar on the altarof Buddha. 

And other forces were also at work. Enthusiastic preachers arose innumerous sects and religious denominations, applying the mysteriousrevelations of the prophet of Patmos--revelations employed in all agesfor the forging of mystic weapons--to the events of the time. In the dimlight of evening meetings they spoke of the "beast with the seven heads"to whom was given power "over all kindreds, tongues and nations, " andfanatical men and women came after months of infinite misery andhopeless woe to look upon the occupant of the White House as theAntichrist. They conceived it their bounden duty to oppose his will, andquite gradually these evening prayer-meetings began to influence ourpeople to such a degree that the Japanese terms were no longer regardedas insulting, and peace without honor was preferred to a continuance ofthe fight to the bitter end. Had God really turned the light of hiscountenance from us?

While the enemy was waiting for an answer to his message, the voices athome became louder and louder in their demands for the conclusion ofpeace and the acceptance of the enemy's terms. The sound common-senseand the buoyant patriotism of those who had their country's interestsclose at heart struggled in vain against the selfish doctrine of thosewho preferred to vegetate peacefully without one brave effort forfreedom. Our whole past history, replete with acts of bravery andself-sacrifice, seemed to be disappearing in the horrors of night. 

And while the socialist agitators were goading on the starving workmeneverywhere to oppose the continuation of the war, while innumerableforces were apparently uniting to retire the God of War, who determinesthe fate of nations on bloody fields, there remained at least onepossibility of clearing the sultry atmosphere: a battle. But how daredwe continue the fight before our armies were absolutely prepared tobegin the attack, how dared we attempt what would no doubt prove thedecisive battle before we were certain of success? The battle of Hilgardfurnished an eloquent reply. The War Department said no, it said no witha heavy heart; weeks must pass, weeks must be borne and overcome, beforewe could assume the offensive once more. 

The Japanese terms of peace were therefore declined. At the seat of warskirmishes continued to take place, the soldiers freezing in their thincoats, while restless activity was shown in all the encampments. 

 * * * * *

Extras were being sold on the streets of Washington, telling of a navalengagement off the Argentine coast. They were eagerly bought and read, but no one believed the news, for we had lost hope and faith. Excitedcrowds had collected in front of the Army and Navy building in the hopeof obtaining more detailed news; but no one could give any information. An automobile suddenly drew up in front of the south side of the longbuilding, before the entrance to the offices of the Committee on ForeignAffairs. 

The Secretary of State, who had not been able to get the President by'phone at the White House but learned that he was somewhere in the navalbarracks, had decided to look him up. Scarcely had he entered his car, before he was surrounded by hundreds of people clamoring forverification of the news from Buenos Ayres. He declared again and againthat he knew nothing more than what he had just read in the extras, butno one believed him. Several policemen cleared the way in front of thepuffing machine, which at last managed to get clear of the crowd, but afew blocks further on the chauffeur was again compelled to stop. 

An immense mob was pouring out of a side street, where they had justsmashed the windows of the offices of a socialist newspaper, which hadsupplemented the Argentine dispatch with spiteful comments under theheadlines: "Another Patriotic Swindle. "

The Secretary of State told the chauffeur to take a different route tothe naval barracks, and this order saved his life, for as he bentforward to speak to the chauffeur, the force of an explosion threw himagainst the front seat. Behind him, on the upper edge of the rear seat, a bomb had exploded with a burst of blinding white light. The secretary, whose coat was torn by some splinters of glass, stood up and showedhimself to the multitude. 

"Murder, murder, " yelled the mob, "down with the assassin. " And thesecretary saw them seize a degenerate-looking wretch and begin poundinghim with their fists. After a little while he was thrown to the ground, but was dragged up again and at last, as the chauffeur was guiding hiscar backwards through the crowd, the secretary heard a man say:

"Thank God, they've strung him up on a lamp-post!"

The mob had administered quick justice. 

Utterly exhausted by this experience, the Secretary of State returned tohis home, where he gave orders that the President should be informed atonce of what had occurred. 

The servant had scarcely left the secretary's study when his wifeentered. She threw her arms passionately around his neck and refused tobe quieted. "It's all right, Edith, I haven't been scratched. "

"But you'll be killed the next time, " she sobbed. 

"It makes but little difference, Edith, whether I die here on thepavement or out yonder on the battle-field: we must all die at our postsif need be. Death may come to us any day here as well as there, but, "and freeing himself from his wife's embrace, he walked to his desk andpointed to a picture of Abraham Lincoln hanging over it, saying, "if Ifall as that man fell, there are hundreds who are ready to step into myshoes without the slightest fuss and with the same solemn sense ofduty. "

A servant entered and announced that the British Ambassador asked to bereceived by the secretary. "One minute, " was the answer, "ask HisExcellency to wait one minute. "

The sound of many voices could be heard outside. The secretary walked tothe window and looked out. 

"Look, " he said to his wife, "there are some people at least who areglad that the bomb failed to accomplish its purpose. " His appearance atthe window was a signal for loud cheers from the people on the street. Holding the hand of his faithful wife in his own, he said: "Edith, Iknow we are on the right road. We can read our destiny only in the starson our banner. There is only one future for the United States, only one, that beneath the Stars and Stripes, and not a single star must bemissing--neither that of Washington, nor that of Oregon, nor that ofCalifornia. We had a hard fight to establish our independence, and theinheritance of our fathers we must ever cherish as sacred andinviolable. The yellow men have won their place in the world by aninexorable sense of national duty, and we can conquer them only if weemploy the same weapons. I know what we have at stake in this war, and Iam quite ready to answer to myself and to our people for each life loston the field of battle. I am only one of many, and if I fall, it will bein the knowledge that I have done my duty. Let the cowardly mob stepover my corpse, it won't matter to me nor to my successor if he willonly hold our drooping flag with a firm hand. The favor of the people ishere to-day and gone to-morrow, and we must not be led astray by it. Theblind creatures who inspired that miserable wretch to hurl the bombregard us, the bearers of responsible posts, with the same feelings asthe lions do their tamer when he enters the cage. If he comes out alive, well and good; if he is torn to pieces it makes no difference, forthere'll be some one else to take his place the next day. It is my dutyto fight against desertion in our own ranks and to shield Americancitizenship against the foreign elements gathered here who have nofatherland, and to whom the Stars and Stripes have no deeper meaningthan a piece of cloth; that is the duty, in the performance of which Ishall live or die. "

Mad cheers from below induced the secretary to open the window, andimmediately the sounds of the "Star Spangled Banner" came floating upfrom thousands of throats. Suddenly his wife touched his arm saying:"James, here's a telegram. "

The secretary turned around and literally tore the telegram out of theservant's hand. He ran his eye over it hurriedly and then drew a deepbreath. And with tears in his eyes at the almost incredible news, hesaid softly to his wife:

"This will deliver us from the dark slough of despair. "

Then he returned to the window, but his emotion made it impossible forhim to speak; he made a sign with his hand and gradually the noise ofthe crowd ceased and all became still. 

"Fellow Citizens, " began the secretary, "I have just this momentreceived--" Loud cheers interrupted him, but quiet was soon restored, and then in a clear voice he read the following dispatch:

 "Bahia Blanca, December 8: The torpedo-destroyer _Paul Jones_ arrived here this morning with the following message from Admiral Dayton: 'On the 4th of December I found the Japanese cruisers _Adzuma_ and _Asama_ and three destroyers coaling in the harbor of Port Stanley (Falkland Islands). I demanded of the British authorities that the Japanese ships be forced to leave the harbor at once, as I should otherwise be obliged to attack them in the harbor on the morning of the following day. On the afternoon of the 4th I opened fire on the Japanese ships four miles outside of Port Stanley. After an hour's fighting all five Japanese ships were sunk. On our side the destroyer _Dale_ was sunk. Total loss, 180 men. Damaged cruiser _Maryland_ sent to Buenos Ayres. Sighted the Japanese cruisers _Idzumo_, _Tokiwa_, _Jakumo_ and four destroyers at the entrance to the Straits of Magellan on the morning of December 6th. Pursued them with entire fleet. Battle with the _Idzumo_ and _Tokiwa_ at noon, in which former was sunk. Battle temporarily suspended on account of appearance of two hostile battleships. Destroyers keeping in touch with the Japanese squadron. '

 DAYTON. "

Perfect silence greeted these words; no one seemed able to believe thenews of this American victory: the first joyful tidings after almostnine months of constant adversity. But then the enthusiasm of the peoplebroke loose in a perfect hurricane that swept everything before it. Inthe rear the crowd began to thin out rapidly, for everybody was anxiousto spread the glad tidings of victory, but their places were soon takenby others pouring in from all sides to hear the telegram read once more. 

And now on the opposite side of 17th Street the American flag suddenlyran up the bare flagstaff on the roof of the Winders Building, unfurlingwith a rustle in the fresh breeze. The secretary pointed up to it, andat once the jubilant crowd joined once more in the air of the "StarSpangled Banner. "

"This is a day, " said the secretary, taking his wife's hand, "which ourcountry will never forget. But now I must get to work and then I'm offto the President. "

As his wife left the room, he rang the bell and asked the servant whoappeared in answer to his summons to show in the British Ambassador. 

The man disappeared noiselessly, and the next moment the ambassadorentered. 

"I must ask Your Excellency's pardon for having kept you waiting, " saidthe secretary, advancing a few steps to meet him. "To what do I owe thehonor of this visit----"

"I have come to reply to the protest lodged against us by the UnitedStates government for permitting the Japanese to use the harbor ofEsquimault as a station for their ships. The British government fullyrecognizes the justice of the protest, and will see to it that in futureonly damages that affect a ship's seaworthiness are repaired atEsquimault, and that no other ships are allowed to enter the harbor. TheBritish government is desirous of observing the strictest neutrality andis determined to employ every means in its power to maintain it. "

"I thank Your Excellency and thoroughly appreciate the efforts of yourgovernment, but regret exceedingly that they are made somewhat late inthe day. I am convinced the English government would not consider itwithin the bounds of strict neutrality for a Japanese squadron to employan English port as its base of operations----"

"Certainly not, " said the ambassador emphatically, "and I am certainsuch a thing has never happened. "

"Indeed?" answered the secretary seriously, "our latest dispatches tella different story. May I ask Your Excellency to glance over thistelegram?"

He handed the telegram from Bahia Blanca to the ambassador, who read itand handed it back. 

The two men regarded each other in silence for a few moments. Then theambassador lowered his eyes, saying, "I have no instructions with regardto this case. It really comes as a great surprise to me, " he added, "avery great surprise, " and then seizing the secretary's hand he shook itheartily, saying: "Allow me to extend my private but most sincerecongratulations on this success of your arms. "

"Thank you, Your Excellency. The United States have learned during thepast few months to distinguish between correct and friendly relationswith other powers. The English government has taken a warm interest inthe military successes of its Japanese ally, as is apparently stipulatedin their agreement. We are sorry to have been obliged to upset some ofEngland's calculations by turning Japanese ships out of an Englishharbor. If we succeed in gaining the upper hand, we may perhaps lookforward to similar favors being shown us by the English government ashave thus far been extended to victorious Japan?"

"That would depend, " said the ambassador rather dubiously, "on theextent to which such friendly relations would interfere with ourconceptions of neutrality. "

At this moment the President was announced and the ambassador took hisleave. 

_Chapter XXII_

REMEMBER HILGARD!

Just as in the war between Russia and Japan, the paper strategists foundcomfort in the thought that the Japanese successes on American soil wereonly temporary and that their victorious career would soon come to anend. The supposition that Japan had no money to carry on the war wassoon seen to lack all real foundation. Thus far the war had cost Japannot even two hundred millions, for it was not Japan, but the PacificStates that had borne the brunt of the expense. Japan had already leviedin the States occupied by her troops a sum larger by far than the totalamount of the indemnity which they had hoped to collect at Portsmouthseveral years before. 

The overwhelming defeat of the Army of the North at Hilgard had takenthe wind out of a great many sails. The terrible catastrophe evensucceeded in stirring up the nations of the Old World, who had beenwatching developments at a safe distance, to a proper realization of theseriousness and proximity of the yellow peril. 

Even England began to edge quietly away from Japan, this change inBritish policy being at once recognized in Tokio when, at Canada'srequest, England refused to allow Japanese ships to continue to use thedocks and coal depots at Esquimault. Later, when after the victories ofthe American fleet off Port Stanley and near the Straits of Magellan, the governor of the Falkland Islands was made the scape-goat andbanished--he had at first intended exposing the cabinet of St. James bypublishing the instructions received from them in July, but finallythought better of it--and when the governors of all the British colonieswere ordered to observe strict neutrality, Japan interpreted this actioncorrectly. But she was prepared for this emergency, and now came theretribution for having fooled the Japanese nation with hopes of apermanent alliance. Japan pressed a button, and Great Britain was madeto realize the danger of playing with the destiny of a nation. 

Apparently without the slightest connection with the war in America, aninsurrection suddenly broke out in Bengal, at the foot of the Himalayasand on the plateaus of Deccan, which threatened to shake the veryfoundations of British sovereignty. It was as much as England could doto dispatch enough troops to India in time to stop the flood frombursting all the dams. At the same time an insurrection broke out inFrench Indo-China, and while England and France were sendingtransport-ships, escorted by cruisers, to the Far East, great upheavalstook place in all parts of Africa. The Europeans had their hands full indozens of different directions: garrisons and naval stations requiredreënforcements, and all had to be on guard constantly in order to avoida surprise. 

These were Japan's last resources for preventing the white races fromcoming to the aid of the United States. 

Remember Hilgard! This was the shibboleth with which Congress passed thebill providing for the creation of a standing militia-army and makingthe military training of every American citizen a national duty. And howwillingly they all responded to their country's call--every one realizedthat the final decision was approaching. 

Remember Hilgard! That was the war-cry, and that was the thought whichtrembled in every heart and proved to the world that when the Americannation once comes to its senses, it is utterly irresistible. 

What did we care for the theories of diplomats about international lawand neutrality; they were swept away like cobwebs. Just as Japan duringthe Russian war had been provided with arms and equipment from the East, because the crippling of the Russian fleet had left the road to theJapanese harbors open and complaints were consequently not to be feared, so German steamers especially now brought to our Atlantic portswar-materials and weapons that had been manufactured in Germany for thenew American armies, since the American factories could not possiblysupply the enormous demand within such a short period. 

Remember Hilgard! were the words which accompanied every command atdrill and in the encampments where our new army was being trained. Theregiments waited impatiently for the moment when they would be ledagainst the enemy, but we dared not again make the mistake of leading anunprepared army against such an experienced foe. Week after week, monthafter month passed, before we could begin our march in the winter snow. 

The Pacific Army, which advanced in January to attack the Japaneseposition on the high plateaus of the Rocky Mountains towards Granger, numbered more than a third of a million. After three days of severefighting, this important stronghold of the Japanese center was capturedand the enemy forced to retreat. 

Great rejoicing rang through the whole land. A complete victory at last!Fourteen Japanese guns were captured by the two Missouri regiments afterfour assaults and with the loss of half their men. The guns were draggedin triumph through the States, and the slightly wounded soldiers on theammunition-carts declared, after the triumphal entry into St. Louis, that the tumultuous embraces and thousands of handclasps from theenthusiastic crowds had used them up more than the three days' battle. 

The capture of Granger had interrupted the communication between theUnion Pacific Railroad and the Oregon Short Line branching off to thenorthwest; but this didn't bother the enemy much, for he simply sent histransports over the line from Pocatello to the South via Ogden, so thatwhen the commander-in-chief of the Pacific Army renewed the attack onthe Japanese positions, he found them stronger than he had anticipated. 

The attack on Fort Bridger began on the second of February, but theenemy's position on the mountain heights remained unshaken. Severalcaptive balloons and two motor air-ships (one of which was destroyed, shortly after its ascent, by hostile shots) brought the information thatthe Japanese artillery and entrenchments on the face of the mountainformed an almost impregnable position. Thus while the people were stillrejoicing over the latest victory, the Pacific Army was in a positionwhere each step forward was sure to be accompanied by a severe loss oflife. 

Six fresh divisions from different encampments arrived on the field ofbattle on the fourth and fifth of February. They received orders toattack the seemingly weak positions of the enemy near Bell's Pass, andthen to cross the snow-covered pass and fall upon the left flank of theJapanese center. All manner of obstacles interfered with the advance, which was at last begun. Whole companies had to be harnessed to theguns; but they pressed forward somehow. The small detachments ofJapanese cavalry defending the pass were compelled to retreat, and thepass itself was taken by a night assault. Frost now set in, and the gunsand baggage wagons were drawn up the mountain paths by means of ropes. The men suffered terribly from the cold, but the knowledge that theywere making progress prevented them from grumbling. 

On the seventh of February, just as Fisher's division, the first ofGeneral Elliott's army to pass Bell's Pass, had reached the valley ofthe Bear River preparatory to marching southward, via Almy and Evanston, in the rear of the Japanese positions, cavalry scouts, who had beenpatrolling downstream as far as Georgetown, reported that large bodiesof hostile troops were approaching from the North. General Elliottordered Fisher's division to continue its advance on Almy, and alsodispatched Hardy's and Livingstone's divisions to the South, whileWilson's division remained behind to guard the pass, and the divisionsof Milton and Stranger were sent to the North to stop the advance of theenemy's reënforcements. Milton's division was to advance along the leftbank of the Bear River and to occupy the passes in the Bear River Range, in order to prevent the enemy from making a diversion via Logan. Mountedengineers destroyed the tracks at several spots in front of and behindLogan. 

It will be seen, therefore, that General Elliott's six divisions wereall stationed in the narrow Bear River Valley between the two hostilearmies: Fisher's, Hardy's and Livingstone's divisions were headed Southto fall upon the left wing of the enemy's main army, commanded byMarshal Oyama; while Milton's and Stranger's divisions were marching tothe North, and came upon the enemy, who was on his way from Pocatello, at Georgetown. General Elliott therefore had to conduct a battle in twodirections: In the South he had to assume the offensive against Oyama'swing as quickly and energetically as possible, whereas at Georgetown hewould be on the defensive. Bell's Pass lay almost exactly between thetwo lines, and there General Elliott had posted only the reserves, consisting of the three weak brigades belonging to Wilson's division. Ifthe Japanese succeeded in gaining a decisive victory at Georgetown, General Elliott's whole army would be in a position of the utmostdanger. 

_Chapter XXIII_

IN THE WHITE HOUSE

On the streets of Washington there was a wild scramble for the extrascontaining the latest news from the front. The people stood for hours infront of the newspaper offices, but definite news was so long in coming, that despair once more seized their hearts and they again becamesceptical of ultimate victory. 

Seven long anxious days of waiting! Were we fighting againstsupernatural forces, which no human heroism could overcome?

A telegraph instrument had been set up next to the President's study inthe White House so that all news from the front might reach him withoutdelay. On a table lay a large map of the battle-field where the fightingwas now going on, and his private secretary had marked the positions ofthe American troops with little wooden blocks and colored flags. 

Suddenly the instrument began to click, a fresh report from the generalstaff of the Pacific Army appeared on the tape:

 "Fort Bridger, Feb. 8, 6 p. M. Our captive balloon reports that the enemy seems to be shifting his troops on the left flank. Two Japanese battalions have abandoned their positions, which were at once occupied by a line of skirmishers from the 86th Regiment supported by two machine-guns. An assault of the second battalion of the 64th Regiment on the Japanese infantry position was repulsed, as the enemy quite unexpectedly brought several masked machine-guns into action. The firing continues, and General Elliott reports that the battle with the hostile forces advancing along the Bear River Valley began at 3 p. M. South of Georgetown. As the enemy has appeared in unexpectedly large numbers, two brigades of Wood's division have been sent from Bell's Pass to the North. 

 MAJOR GENERAL ILLING. "

The private secretary changed the position of several blocks on the map, moving the flags at Bell's Pass and pushing two little blue flags in thedirection of Georgetown. Then he took the report to the President. 

At midnight the report came that the stubborn resistance of the enemy atGeorgetown had made it advisable to send Wilson's last brigade fromBell's Pass to the North. 

"Our last reserves, " said the President, looking at the map; "we'replaying a venturesome game. " Then he glanced at his secretary and sawthat the latter was utterly exhausted. And no wonder, for he hadn'tslept a wink in three nights. "Go and take a nap, Johnson, " said thePresident; "I'll stay up, as I have some work to finish. Take a nap, Johnson, I don't need you just now. "

"What about the instrument, sir?" asked the secretary. 

"I can hear everything in the next room. I'll have no peace anyhow tillit is all over. Besides, the Secretary of War is coming over, so I'llget along all right. "

The President sat down at his desk and affixed his signature to a numberof documents. Half an hour later the Secretary of War was announced. 

"Sit down, Harry, " said the President, pointing to a chair, "I'll beready in five minutes. " And while the President was finishing his work, the Secretary of War settled down in his chair and took up a book. Butthe next moment he laid it down again and took up a paper instead; thenhe took up another one and read a few lines mechanically, stopping everynow and then to stare vacantly over the edge of the paper into space. Atlast he jumped up and began pacing slowly up and down. Then he went intothe telegraph-room, and glanced over the report, a copy of which he hadreceived half an hour ago. Then he examined the various positions on themap, placing some of the blocks more accurately. 

Then a bell rang and steps could be heard in the hall. The door of theadjacent room opened and shut, and he heard the President fold up thedocuments and say: "Take these with you, they are all signed. Tomorrowmorning--oh, I forgot, it's morning now--the ninth of February. "

Then some one went out and closed the door and the President was aloneagain. The next moment he joined the Secretary of War in thetelegraph-room. 

"Harry, " he said in a low voice, "our destiny will be decided within thenext few hours. I sent Johnson off to bed; he needed some sleep. Besides, we want to be alone when the fate of our country is decided. "

The Secretary of War walked up and down the room with his hands in hispockets, puffing away at a cigar. Both men avoided looking at eachother; neither wished the other to see how nervous he was. Both werelistening intently for the sound of the telegraph-bell. 

"A message arrived from Fort Bridger about ten o'clock, " said thePresident after a long pause, "to the effect that our captive balloonsreported a change in the positions of the enemy's left wing. This maymean----"

"Yes, it may mean--" repeated the Secretary of War mechanically. 

Then they both became silent once more, puffing vigorously at theircigars. 

"Suppose it's all in vain again, suppose the enemy--" began theSecretary of War, when he was interrupted by the ringing of the bell inthe next room. 

The message ran:

 "Bell's Pass, Feb. 9, 12. 15 a. M. Milton's division has succeeded in wresting several important positions from the enemy after a night of severe fighting. Unimportant reverses suffered by Stranger's division more than offset with the aid of reënforcements from Bell's Pass. 

 COLONEL TARDITT. "

"If they can only hold Georgetown, " said the Secretary of War, "our lastreserves have gone there now. "

"God grant they may. "

Then they both went back to the study. The President remained standingin front of the portrait of Lincoln hanging on the wall. 

"He went through just such hours as these, " he said quietly, "just suchhours, and perhaps in this very room, when the battle between the_Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_ was being fought at Hampton Roads, and newswas being sent to him hour by hour. Oh, Abraham Lincoln, if you wereonly here to-day to deliver your message over the length and breadth ofour land. "

The Secretary of War looked hard at the President as he answered: "Yes, we have need of men, but we have men, too, some perhaps who are evengreater than Lincoln. "

The President shook his head sadly, saying: "I don't know, we've doneeverything we could, we've done our duty, yet perhaps we might have madeeven greater efforts. I'm so nervous over the outcome of this battle; itseems to me we are facing the enemy without weapons, or at best withvery blunt ones. "

Again the bell rang and the President moved towards the door, butstopped halfway and said: "You better go and see what it is, Harry. "

 "Fort Bridger, Feb. 8, 11. 50 p. M. From Fisher's division the report comes via Bell's Pass that two of his regiments have driven the enemy from their positions with the aid of searchlights, and that they are now in hot pursuit. MAJOR GENERAL ILLING. "

Without saying a word the Secretary of War moved the blocks representingFisher's division further South. Then he remarked quietly: "It doesn'tmake much difference what happens at Georgetown, the decision restsright here now and the next hour may decide it all, " and he put hisfinger on the spot in the mountains occupied by the enemy's left wing. "If an attack on the enemy's front should make a gap----"

He didn't complete the sentence, for the President's hand rested heavilyon his shoulder. "Yes, Harry, " he said, "if--that's what we've beensaying for nine months. If--and our If has always been followed by aBut--the enemy's But. "

He threw himself into a chair and shaded his tired eyes with his hand, while the Secretary of War walked incessantly up and down, puffing on afresh cigar. --

The night was almost over. --The shrill little bell rang again, causingthe President to start violently. Slowly, inch by inch, the white stripof paper was rolled off, and stooping together over the tickinginstrument, the two men watched one letter, one word, one sentence afteranother appear, until at last it was all there:

 "Fort Bridger, Feb. 9, 1. 15 a. M. A returning motor air-ship reports a furious artillery fight in the rear of the enemy's left wing. Have just issued orders for a general attack on the hostile positions on the heights. Cannonade raging all along the line. Reports from Bell's Pass state that enemy is retreating from Georgetown. Twelve of the enemy's guns captured. 

 "MAJOR GENERAL ILLING. "

"Harry!" cried the President, seizing his friend's hand, "suppose thismeans victory!"

"It does, it must, " was the answer. "Look here, " he said, as herearranged the blocks on the map, "the whole pressure of GeneralElliott's three divisions is concentrated on the enemy's left wing. Allthat's necessary is a determined attack----"

"On the entrenchments in the dark?" broke in the President, "when themen are so apt to lose touch with their leaders, when they're shootingat random, when a mere chance may wrest away the victory and give it tothe enemy?"

The Secretary of War shook his head, saying: "The fate of battles restsin the hands of God; we must have faith in our troops. "

He walked around the table with long strides, while the Presidentcompared the positions of the armies on the map with the contents of thelast telegram. 

"Harry, " he said, looking up, "do you remember the speech I made atHarvard years ago on the unity of nations? That was my first speech, andwho would have thought that we should now be sitting together in thisroom? It's strange how it all comes back to me now. Even then, as ayoung man, I was deeply interested in the development of the idea ofGerman national unity as expressed in German poetry; and much that Iread then has become full of meaning for us, too, especially in theselatter days. One of those German songs is ringing in my ears to-night. Oh, if it could only come true, if our brave men over there storming therocky heights could only make it come true--" At this moment thetelegraph-bell again rang sharply:

 "Fort Bridger, Feb. 9, 2. 36 a. M. With enormous losses the brigades of Lennox and Malmberg have stormed the positions occupied by the artillery on the enemy's left wing, and have captured numerous guns. The thunder of cannon coming from the valley can be distinctly heard here on the heights. Fisher's division has signaled that they have successfully driven back the enemy. The Japanese are beginning to retreat all along the line. Our troops----"

The President could read no further, for the words were dancing beforehis eyes. This stern man, whom nothing could bend or break, now hadtears in his eyes as he folded his hands over the telegraph instrument, from which the tape continued to come forth, and said in a deeply movedvoice: "Harry, this hour is greater than the Fourth of July. And now, Harry, I remember it, that song of the German poet; may it become ourprayer of thanksgiving:"

 "From tower to tower let the bells be rung, Throughout our land let our joy be sung! Light every beacon far and near, To show that God hath helped us here! Praise be to God on High!"

Then the President stepped over to the window and pushing aside thecurtains, opened it and looked out into the cold winter morning for along time. 

"Harry, " he called presently, "doesn't it seem as though the bells wereringing? Thus far no one knows the glad tidings but you and I; but verysoon they'll awake to pæans of victory and then our flag will waveproudly once more and we'll have no trouble in winning back the missingstars. "

It was a moment of the highest national exaltation, such as a nationexperiences only once in a hundred years. 

A solitary policeman was patrolling up and down before the White House, and he started violently as he heard a voice above him calling out:

"Run as hard as you can and call out on all the streets: The enemy isdefeated, our troops have conquered, the Japanese army is in fullretreat! Knock at the doors and windows and shout into every home: wehave won, the enemy is retreating. "

The policeman hurried off, leaving big black footprints in the whitesnow, and he could be heard yelling out: "Victory, victory, we've beatenthe Japs!" as he ran. 

People began to collect in the streets and a coachman jumped down fromhis box and ran towards the White House, looking up at its lightedwindows. 

"Leave your carriage here, " shouted the President, "and run as hard asyou can and tell everybody you meet that we have won and that theJapanese are in full retreat! Our country will be free once more!"

Shouts were heard in the distance, and the noise of loud knocking. Andthen the President closed the window and came back into the room. Butwhen the Secretary of War wanted to read the balance of the message, hesaid: "Don't, Harry; I couldn't listen to another word now, but pleaserouse everybody in the house. "

Then bells rang in the halls and people were heard to stir in the rooms. There was a joyous awakening in the quiet capital that ninth day ofFebruary, the day that dispelled the darkness and the gloom. 

That day marked the beginning of the end. _The yellow peril had beenaverted!_