We were hard at work upon the boom again when, during the afternoon of the following day, our battle fleet returned from Pi-tse-wo, after covering the landing of General Oku’s army. The fleet steamed in between the islands and Cape Terminal on the mainland, toward which we were running the boom; and my friend Ijichi, the skipper of the Mikasa, told me, with a laugh, that when the little Admiral first saw the boom and made out what it was, he could hardly credit his eyes. He had been under the impression that I was still in hospital, and would probably not be able to get to work for a week or more. Yet there I was, as large as life, in a picket boat, with my head still swathed in a bandage, superintending operations, and clearly recognisable with the assistance of a pair of binoculars. And when at the close of the day I went aboard the flagship to report myself, Togo did not hesitate to let me understand how intensely gratified he was at the progress which we had made.
Meanwhile, I was fast progressing toward complete recovery; and on the day following the return of the fleet to the Elliots, the bandage was removed from my head, and I was pronounced to be practically all right once more. And, to add to my gratification, a destroyer arrived from Sasebo, bringing mails for the fleet, among which were no less than three delightful letters from my friends the Gordons, at home, and two, equally delightful, from my Sasebo friends, Mr Boyd and his wife. Those from the Gordons were full of congratulations; for I gathered from them that a long and circumstantial account of our second attempt to seal up Port Arthur harbour had appeared in the home newspapers, in which somewhat conspicuous mention was made of my doings, and my friends were delighted to learn that I was “so successfully maintaining the finest traditions of the British Navy,” as they were kindly pleased to put it. My chum, Ronald, was particularly chirpy about it, expressing in no measured terms the wish that he could have been with me, while he informed me that, notwithstanding the painful circumstances under which I had left the Terrible—and the British Navy—the officers of that ship, with only one or two exceptions, had expressed their gratification, while several of them, whom he named, had desired him to convey to me their congratulations and good wishes.
During the next day or two excellent progress was made with the construction of the long boom; and then came a spell of bad weather which, although it did not hinder the putting together of the sections of the boom, in the smooth water of the anchorage, rendered it impossible for us to tow them out and splice them to the portion already in position. But although the bad weather greatly delayed us in this way, we did not altogether regret it, for the heavy sea kicked up by the gales afforded a splendid test of that portion of the boom already in place, and we were greatly gratified, as we steamed out day after day to examine it, to find that it had not been damaged or displaced in the smallest degree.
It was toward the end of the third week of May that the Admiral signalled me to proceed on board the flagship. It was late in the afternoon of a thoroughly wretched day; the wind had been blowing hard from the south’ard for the past three or four days, with almost incessant rain, and there was a very heavy sea running between the islands and the main. I had just returned from my second inspection of the boom that day, and I naturally thought that the signal indicated a desire on the part of the Admiral to question me in relation to the stability of the structure. And when I entered his cabin, and he greeted me with the question:
“Well, Captain Swinburne, how is the boom standing the sea, out yonder?” I was confirmed in my opinion. But I presently found that I was mistaken; for when I had told him all that there was to tell about the boom, and he had expressed his satisfaction, he said:
“By the way, it is Commander Tsuchiya who has been your chief assistant in this work, is it not?”
I replied in the affirmative.
“And I suppose he understands the whole business pretty well by this time, eh?” the Admiral continued.
“Every bit as well as I do, sir,” I answered, seeming to scent other work for myself at no great distance.
“That is good,” commented Togo. “Do you think he would be capable of completing the work without further assistance from you?”
“Undoubtedly he would, sir,” I replied. “Indeed, I think it right to say that, after the first day, Commander Tsuchiya required no help or suggestion of any kind from me at all. He seemed to perfectly understand the principle of the boom’s construction, almost from the very beginning; and after the first day’s work upon it he took the entire supervision into his own hands, leaving me nothing whatever to do but merely to look on and satisfy myself by personal observation that the work was being properly done.”
“Which it was, I presume?” remarked the Admiral.
“Which it certainly was, sir,” I replied.
“Good!” said Togo. “That being the case, you are free for another service. How would you like the chance to get a little fighting ashore, by way of a change?”
“Jove!” I exclaimed, “that would be splendid, sir. Are you going to land a naval brigade anywhere?”
“Well—no,” answered the Admiral, “hardly that, I think; at least, that is not my present intention, although circumstances may possibly render it desirable, eventually. The matter stands thus,”—turning to the table where a map of the Liaotung peninsula lay unfolded upon it.
“This,”—pointing to a certain spot on the map—“is where General Oku landed, the other day, with his army. And this,”—pointing to another spot—“is where he is now. His object of course is to march south and lay siege to Port Arthur. But at this point, some two and a half miles south of Kinchau, which, as I suppose you know, is a Chinese walled city, the isthmus is only about two miles wide; and in and about the city the Russians have established themselves in force, prepared, apparently, to dispute Oku’s passage of the isthmus to the last man.
“This mountain, so prominently marked on the map, is Mount Sampson. It is more than two thousand feet in height and, as you will readily understand, dominates the entire district. Upon this mountain the Russians very strongly established themselves, scarping the heights and constructing formidable breastworks behind which to shelter themselves. Of course it was necessary for our troops to take this mountain, since, until that could be done, to pass the isthmus would be impossible. I am glad to learn that the mountain is now in our hands.
“But here, just to the south of Kinchau, is another range of hills, known as the Nanshan Heights. They form a sort of backbone to the isthmus, and occupy almost its entire width, their crests completely commanding the narrow strip of low ground on either side. On these heights, too, the Russians have very strongly established themselves; so that although Mount Sampson is in our hands, the isthmus remains impassable. The unfortunate fact, so far as we are concerned, is that General Oku has no heavy artillery with him, otherwise he would be able to shell the Nanshan Heights from Mount Sampson, and drive the Russians out. But he has only field and mountain guns, of a range insufficient for that purpose; therefore he has requisitioned help from me, and I propose to send some craft round to Kinchau Bay, to shell the Russian positions from the sea.”
“Kinchau Bay, sir?” I interrupted. “Pardon me, but the water in Kinchau Bay is so shallow, according to the chart, that I am afraid any of our craft capable of carrying guns heavy enough to be of service would have very great difficulty in approaching the land near enough to be of any real use. Why not Hand Bay, sir, on the eastern side of the isthmus?”
“For the very good reason, my dear fellow, that not only is Hand Bay mined, but it would also be impossible for us to clear it, the bay being completely commanded by works which our craft could not face for five minutes. No, it must be Kinchau Bay; there is nothing else for it,” answered the Admiral.