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The North Pacific

_A Story of the Russo-Japanese War_

_By_
Willis Boyd Allen
Author of "Navy Blue" and "Cleared for Action"

[Illustration]

_New York_

E. P. Dutton & Company
31 West Twenty-third Street
1905


TO MY FRIEND

COMMANDER WILLIAM H. H. SOUTHERLAND, U. S. N.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED


[Illustration: "MAN OVERBOARD!"]


COPYRIGHT, 1905
BY
E. P. DUTTON & CO.

Published, September, 1905

The Knickerbocker Press, New York




PREFACE.


As in the preparation of _Navy Blue_ and _Cleared for Action_, the
author has taken great pains to verify the main facts of the present
story, so far as they are concerned with the incidents of the great
struggle still in progress between the empires of the East and the West.
He acknowledges most gratefully the assistance received from the office
of the Secretary of the Navy, from ex-Secretary John D. Long, and from
Commander W. H. H. Southerland, now commanding the U. S. Cruiser
_Cleveland_, Commander Austin M. Knight, President of the Board on Naval
Ordnance, and Chief Engineer Edward Farmer, retired.

W. B. A.

BOSTON, June, 1905.




CONTENTS

CHAPTER                                    PAGE
    I. THE TRIAL OF THE "RETVIZAN"            1

   II. MAN OVERBOARD!                        16

  III. SEALED ORDERS                         29

   IV. UNCLE SAM'S PACKING                   43

    V. OTO'S STRANGE VISIT                   53

   VI. A SCRAP IN MALTA                      67

  VII. O-HANA-SAN'S PARTY                    84

 VIII. A BATCH OF LETTERS                    93

   IX. AT THE CZAR'S COMMAND                102

    X. THE FIRST BLOW                       114

   XI. IN THE MIKADO'S CAPITAL              125

  XII. BETWEEN TWO FIRES                    137

 XIII. WYNNIE MAKES A BLUNDER               146

  XIV. THE ATTACK OF THE "OCTOPUS"          156

   XV. UNDER THE RED CROSS                  165

  XVI. THE LAST TRAIN FROM PORT ARTHUR      175

 XVII. DICK SCUPP'S ADVENTURE               184

XVIII. OSHIMA GOES A-FISHING                202

  XIX. AMONG THE CLOUDS                     218

   XX. THE DOGGER BANK AFFAIR               235

  XXI. THE FALL OF PORT ARTHUR              248

 XXII. ON BOARD THE "KUSHIRO"               260

XXIII. TRAPPED IN MANCHURIA                 274

 XXIV. THE LITTLE FATHER                    286

  XXV. LARKIN RETIRES FROM BUSINESS         297

 XXVI. "THE DESTINY OF AN EMPIRE"           308

XXVII. ORDERED HOME                         319




ILLUSTRATIONS

                                         PAGE
"MAN OVERBOARD!"            _Frontispiece_ 24

"OTO CLIMBED THE RAIL LIKE A MONKEY"       64

IN STRANGE WATERS                          82

PICKED UP BY THE SEARCHLIGHT              119

THE SINKING OF THE "PETROPAVLOVSK"        164

THE END OF THE TRAITOR                    231

ON THE DOGGER BANK                        244

THE OSAKA BABIES                          253




THE NORTH PACIFIC.




CHAPTER I.

THE TRIAL OF THE "RETVIZAN."


It was a clear, cool afternoon in early September, 1901. In the country
the tawny hillsides were warmed to gold by the glow of the autumn sun,
while here and there a maple lifted its crimson torch as if the forest
were kindling where the rays were the hottest. Brown, golden, and
scarlet leaves floated slowly downward to the ground; flocks of
dark-winged birds drifted across the sky or flitted silently through the
shadows of the deep wood; the call of the harvester to his straining
team sounded across the fields for a moment--then all was still again.
But for the creak of a waggon, the distant bark of a dog, the fitful
whisper and rustle of the wind in the boughs overhead, the whirring
chatter of a squirrel, the world seemed lost in a day-dream of peace.

Only a few miles away the air was rent by a clamour of discordant
sound. Ponderous hammers beat upon plates of iron and brass; machinery
rumbled and shrieked and hissed at its work; a thousand men, labouring
as if for their lives, pulled, pushed, lifted, pounded, shouted orders,
warnings, replies above the din that beat upon the ear like a
blacksmith's blows upon an anvil. From the tall chimneys poured endless
volumes of black smoke that were reflected in the blue waters of the
river and mimicked by innumerable puffs of steam. The place was like a
volcano in the first stages of eruption. A vast upheaval seemed
imminent. Yet the countless toilers worked securely and swiftly,
fashioning that dread floating citadel of modern warfare, the
Battleship.

On this same afternoon, at the outer gate of the Cramp Shipbuilding
Works, two strangers applied for admission, presenting to the watchman a
properly accredited pass. They were young men, under the average
stature, dark-skinned, and almost notably quiet in appearance and
manner. Although their dress was that of the American gentleman, a very
slight accent in their speech, their jet-black hair, and a trifling
obliquity in their eyes, would have at once betrayed their nationality
to a careful observer. He would have known that they were of a people
famous for their shrewdness, their gentle manners, their bravery, their
quick perceptions, and their profound patience and tireless resolution
in accomplishing their ends--the "Yankees of the Orient"--the Japanese.

The watchman glanced at them carelessly, rather impressed by the
visitors' immaculate attire--both wore silk hats and black coats of
correct Broadway cut--and asked if they wanted an attendant to show them
about the works. They said, "No, thank you. We shall remain but short
time. We can find our ways"; and, bowing, passed into the yard.

Their curiosity seemed very slight, as to the buildings and machinery.
With light, quick steps they passed through one or two of the most
important shops, then turned to the river-side, and halted beside the
huge ship that was on the stocks, almost ready for launching. Here for
the first time their whole expression became alert, their eyes keen and
flashing. Nobody paid much attention to them as they passed along the
walk, scrutinising, it would seem, every individual bolt and plate.

"A couple o' <DW55>s!" remarked one workman to another, nodding over his
shoulder as he carried his end of a heavy steel bar.

At the gangway the visitors met their first obstacle. A man in undress
uniform, with a full beard and stern countenance, waved them back. "No
admittance to the deck," he said briefly.

The two Japanese bowed blandly, and spoke a few words together in soft
undertones and gutterals, as incomprehensible to a Western ear as the
language of the Ojibways. Then they bowed again, smiled and said "Thank
you, sir," and moved away. The Russian officer watched them sharply
until they disappeared around the bows of the vessel, muttering to
himself under his bushy moustache.

Once out of sight the languor and mild indifference of the strangers
vanished. They spoke swiftly, with excited, but graceful gestures. Then
one of them pointed to the snowy curve of the battleship's prow, above
their heads. There, gleaming in the sunset light, sh