Stratemeyer Edward
At the Fall of Port Arthur: or, A Young American in the Japanese Navy

CHAPTER XII
TAKEN AS A PRIZE OF WAR

Slowly but surely the small boat came closer to the schooner. She rode the long swells of the Pacific with full grace, and Larry could not help but admire the long, sturdy strokes of the jackies, as they bent to their task.

"I don't know but that they can handle a small boat as well as our own jackies," said Larry.

"Why shouldn't they? Russian naval training ought to be first-class," answered Tom Grandon. "They have been at it longer than Uncle Sam."

"True, but that doesn't always count. Spain had been at it longer than we had, too, but when it came to war we beat her in double-quick order."

As the small boat came closer they saw that the jackies were mostly men of middle age. But the coxswain was younger and so was the naval officer, who was gazing rather anxiously toward the schooner, as if wondering what the result of his mission would be.

"Wonder if that chap can talk English?" queried the first mate. "If he can't the old man will be up a tree, for none of us can talk Russian."

"I reckon Peterson and Semmel can talk it," answered Larry. "But we don't want either of those rascals to open his mouth."

At last the small boat came up alongside of the Columbia. It was no easy matter to catch the rope ladder without getting bumped, but it was successfully accomplished, and then the Russian officer lost no time in coming on board. He at once saluted, and Captain Ponsberry and his mates did the same, and the sailors in the background did likewise.

"What ship is this?" asked the Russian naval officer, after a few necessary formalities were at an end.

"The American schooner Columbia," answered Captain Ponsberry.

"Would you mind telling me for what port you are bound?" went on the naval officer, who could speak fairly good English.

"We are bound for San Francisco, with a stopover at Nagasaki."

"Ah! What sort of a cargo are you carrying to Nagasaki?"

"One belonging to the firm for which the Columbia is in commission."

"The name of the firm, please?"

"The Richmond Importing Company."

"Ah!" said the naval officer again, and looked slightly displeased. As it happened he had a brother in the army at Port Arthur, and had heard of the doings of Gilbert Pennington at that place, and of how the young American had accused certain Russians of trying to cheat the company he represented.

"What warship do you come from?" demanded Captain Ponsberry, feeling that he had an equal right to ask questions.

"The auxiliary cruiser, Pocastra, of the Russian navy," answered the naval officer, politely.

"And where are you bound?" went on Captain Ponsberry, bluntly.

"That, sir, is a question only our commander, Captain Titorsky, can answer."

"It's queer you are steaming around in Japanese waters."

"Perhaps so." The Russian naval officer smiled in a knowing way. "Captain Ponsberry, I am sorry, but I think I shall have to inspect your papers."

Captain Ponsberry drew himself up, resolved to put on as bold a front as possible.

"This is an American ship, sir."

"Granted, but I have my orders," returned the naval officer, coldly.

"If I refuse to let you inspect the papers?"

The young Russian officer shrugged his shoulders.

"We shall be under the painful necessity of compelling you to show them."

"You threaten me – an American captain!"

"There is no help for it – I am simply obeying orders. We inspect all ships that we find in this vicinity."

"Do you know I can make you pay dearly for this outrage?"

"You cannot call it an outrage. You are in Japanese waters, Japan and Russia are at war. You knew that before you came into these waters. Am I to see the papers or not?"

The commander of the Columbia knew that the Russian naval officer spoke the truth. Yet he made one more effort.

"Very well; I will show my papers, but I shall insist upon you signing a paper that your ship held us up."

"You can send the paper to my ship for such a signature from my captain," said the Russian, evasively.

By this time four of the jackies of the small boat had come on board. All were armed and they lined up at the rail, close to the rope ladder. They were good-natured sailors and grinned broadly at the hands on the Columbia. Not one could speak a word of English, so conversation with them was impossible.

Captain Ponsberry led the way to the cabin of the Columbia and the young Russian officer followed. Getting out such papers as had been prepared for the occasion, the master of the schooner passed them over.

"These are correct so far as they go," said the Russian, after an examination lasting ten minutes had been made. "But – " he paused. "You have no further papers?"

"Those are my papers, sir," answered Captain Ponsberry, briefly.

"Then I will look at a specified list of your cargo."

"I haven't such a list," was the answer, which was true, as the list had been burnt up just a short while before.

At this statement the young Russian frowned. "Every ship carries such a list."

"Still, I haven't any."

"In that case, I shall have to order an inspection of the cargo."

"Sir, you are going too far!" said Captain Ponsberry, sternly, yet he knew he had no right to expect anything else.

"If I am going too far, I am able to take the consequences," returned the Russian, who was acting strictly under orders.

"Very well, sir; you can look the cargo over," answered Captain Ponsberry. "But I shall hold Russia accountable for the outrage."

The Russian naval officer bowed and hastened up to the deck. He spoke in his native tongue to one of the jackies who carried several small flags under his arm. At once the Jackie began to wig-wag to the warship for further instructions.

"Search the ship," came back the order, and in a few minutes more another small boat left the side of the Pocastra, containing an officer and a crew of eight.

"We are in for it now, that is certain," observed Larry. "They are not going to let us go until they are sure we are O. K."

The second boat was soon alongside of the schooner, and the officer in charge and four men came up on the deck and joined the other Russians already there. An earnest conversation was held between the two officers.

"We'll take a general look at the cargo," said the one who had just arrived. "It will not do to go too far – in case we find everything as it should be. We want no trouble with the Yankee government."

Captain Ponsberry was asked to have the mizzen hatch opened, and this work was done by Luke Striker and several others. Then two of the Russian sailors were sent below, and one of the officers went along.

In the meantime, Peterson, unknown to anybody on board, had slipped off to the brig. Here he found Ostag Semmel in solitary confinement.

"Semmel, a Russian warship is close at hand," he said, hurriedly. "An officer and some men have just boarded us."

"Release me, Peterson!" returned the Russian sailor. "Release me and I will show Captain Ponsberry what I can do!"

"You will not get me into trouble?" questioned Peterson, anxiously.

"No. Quick – I am sure we can make money out of this."

With an iron bar, Peterson pried off the lock which had been put on the door of the brig, and drew back the bolt. Then Semmel came out of his prison, with his hands linked together.

As he was making his way to the stern deck Larry caught sight of him.

"Stop!" he called out, in alarm, realizing what Semmel might do. "Stop, Semmel!" and he ran to capture the rascal.

"Get out da vay!" roared the Russian and aimed a blow at Larry's head. But the young second mate dodged and then caught the Russian by the legs, hurling him flat on his breast. But now Peterson came behind and gave Larry a vicious kick in the side, which made the youth let go his hold.

"What's the row there?" called out Captain Ponsberry, and looked much disturbed to see the escaped prisoner. "Put him back where he came from!"

"Help!" yelled Semmel, in Russian. "Help, in the name of the Czar! I am a Russian subject! This ship is in the employ of the Japanese Government!"

"He speaks the truth!" called out Peterson, also in Russian. "Help us and protect us and we will prove it!" And he ran forward to where the Russian officer on deck was standing.

"You are Russians?" asked the officer, quickly.

"We are."

"Then I shall certainly assist you." He raised his voice. "Let that man go!" And he pointed at Semmel, now surrounded by Larry, Luke, and Cal Vincent.

The latter words were uttered in English, so all of our friends understood them. The two sailors looked inquiringly at the young second mate.

"He is nothing but a mutineer," said Larry. "We locked him up for it. He ought to have been strung up on the yardarm," he added, bitterly.

By this time Captain Ponsberry was on the scene, and those who had gone below were summoned on deck once more. The captain glared at Semmel, who lost no time in shrinking behind the Russian officers for protection.

"I can prove the cargo on this ship belongs to the Japanese Government," said Ostag Semmel. "My friend can prove it, too," he added, pointing to Peterson. "It is true we tried to seize the ship – to take her to Vladivostok, or some other Russian port, as a prize."

"This is assuredly interesting," said the leading Russian officer. "Tell me your tale in full."

Despite Captain Ponsberry's protests Semmel told his story in his own way, and Peterson corroborated it in every detail. Then Shamhaven, thinking to curry favor, came forward.

"They tell the strict truth," he said. "I worked with them. We did what we could for the benefit of the Russian Government. Every bit of cargo on this ship belongs to the Japanese Government and was to be taken ashore at Nagasaki. The last cargo of the Columbia was also sold at Nagasaki to the Japanese Government."

"When was this?"

"About two months ago."

More questions were put to Semmel, Peterson, and Shamhaven, and at last the Russian naval officer turned grimly to Captain Ponsberry.

"I have heard their story, and it will be unnecessary to make an inspection of your cargo, since they have told me of what it consists. In the name of Russia I claim this ship as a prize of war, and you and your crew must consider yourselves prisoners."

CHAPTER XIII
PRISONERS ON THE "POCASTRA"

Captain Ponsberry had feared the result ever since the unexpected appearance of Ostag Semmel, so he was not very much surprised when the Russian naval officer stated that he should consider the Columbia as a war prize and place those on board under arrest as prisoners of war.

"This is a high-handed proceeding," said he, as calmly as possible, although his mind was in a whirl.

"I do not think so," answered the Russian officer. "Do you submit or not?"

"Since it would be useless to fight, we shall have to submit," answered the master of the schooner. "But, remember, I shall hold you and the Russian Government responsible for all you do."

"As you have said that before, there is no use of repeating it, Captain Ponsberry. We will take command of the vessel at once."

"What are we going to do?" whispered Larry to Tom Grandon.

"I don't know – follow the old man, I reckon," answered the first mate.

"We shall place a prize crew on this ship," went on the Russian officer. "These men" – pointing to Semmel, Peterson, and Shamhaven – "can remain on board. The remainder of the crew and the officers, will be transferred to the Pocastra. I will give you a quarter of an hour in which to attend to your luggage. Please take no more along than is necessary."

"This is certainly high-handed!" cried Larry.

"So we've got to go over to that old coal box, eh?" grumbled Luke, when he heard the news. "It's hard luck, Larry."

"You're right, Luke, but it can't be helped."

"What will they do with us?"

"I haven't the least idea."

"Will they take us to Russia?"

"I suppose so – or stow us away in one of those cold and dirty Siberian prisons until we can get Uncle Sam to make them release us."

When it came time to depart from the Columbia Larry was allowed to take only a bundle of clothing along, and Grandon and the common sailors were treated no better. The captain was allowed a trunk and a suit case. In the meantime Semmel was questioned once more, and what he had to tell made the Russians look darkly at our friends.

"He is pumping all sorts of falsehoods into them, I suppose," said Larry to Luke, and he was right. Semmel made it appear that Captain Ponsberry was really an agent of the Japanese Government and that he (Semmel) had done his best to gain possession of the ship wholly for the benefit of his own country.

"If you really did this, it is very worthy of you," said one of the officers. "But we shall have to investigate before we accept your story in full." This was not so encouraging, but with it Ostag Semmel had to be content.

Fearing that a Japanese warship might put in an appearance at any moment, the Russians lost no time in transferring the officers and men of the Columbia to the Pocastra and at the same time a prize crew of two officers and ten men were taken from the warship to the schooner. Then the sails of the Columbia were hoisted and off she set to the eastward, and the warship moved in the same direction.

When placed aboard the Pocastra Captain Ponsberry was treated politely and given a small room of his own. But the mates and the ordinary seamen were not so fortunate. Grandon, Larry, and Luke Striker were hustled off to a prison pen on one deck of the auxiliary cruiser, and the others to another pen below, which was even worse.

"This is certainly hard luck," said Larry, as he threw his bundle into a corner and sat down on an iron bench, while Grandon and Luke did the same. "And after we had almost reached Nagasaki, too!"

"Well, there ain't no use to cry over spilt milk," came from Luke. "We're prisoners o' war, an' I reckon as how we have got to make the best o' it. Ain't the first time we've been in sech a fix."

"That is true, Luke, but it doesn't help the matter any. I guess we have seen the last of the old Columbia."

"I was afraid of this sort of thing happening ever since we left Manila," came from Grandon. "I told the old man to be careful, that – "

"Hush!" whispered Larry. "They may be listening – to make sure that they have caught the right parties."

"True for you, Larry; I won't say another word about that. But it looks dismal, no two ways on't," and the first mate drew a mountainous sigh.

The prison pen into which they had been placed was an iron structure, reaching from floor to ceiling, and was not over ten feet square. It had a solid back and the remaining three sides were built up of stout iron bars, only a couple of inches apart. There was a door which was doubly locked, the key being held by a petty officer who could speak broken English and who rejoiced in the simple name of Rosenvischpoff. For short Luke nicknamed him Rosey and this name stuck to him.

"Doesn't look as if a fellow could break out of here very easily," said Larry, after an inspection of their prison. "This is a regular bank vault."

"Wouldn't do you any good to break out," returned Grandon. "As we are on the ocean, where would you go to?"

"We might hide until the vessel made a landing."

"Humph, and that would be in some Russian port, so you'd be just as bad off."

"Well, I'm not trying to escape just now. I want to get the lay of the land first, and try to find out what they are going to do with us."

From Rosenvischpoff they learned that the Pocastra was one of a large number of steamers of various Russian lines which had been lately pressed into the service of the national navy. She had been rushed through at one of the Russian navy yards and provided with a battery of four small and four large guns, none, however, over eight inches. She carried a crew of one hundred and eighty men, drafted principally from other warships. She had an advertised speed of twenty knots an hour but rarely made over seventeen or eighteen. She was old and her engines were constantly in need of repair, much to the disgust of Captain Titorsky, her commander.

"Well, Rosey, how goes this war?" asked Luke, pleasantly, as the petty officer came around to give them something to eat.

"Big fight all der dime," answered Rosenvischpoff. "Russians kill all der Japs – sink all der Jap ships, yes!"

"You're winning right along, eh?"

"Yes, Russians win – Japs no do noddings, no!" And the petty officer left the food on the bench and hurried away again.

"Do you believe that?" asked Larry.

"No, I don't," came from Grandon. "He told us that simply to scare us, or else he doesn't know the real truth."

"Exactly what I think."

"These Russians are a lot of blowers," growled Luke. "Just look at Semmel. He was forever tooting his horn, and yet he couldn't do much of anything."

"He got us into trouble," said Larry, quickly.

"That's true, but he had to have this warship with all on board to help him."

The food which had been brought to them consisted of a big bowl of stew, with three spoons, and three chunks of black bread.

"They are going to treat us to the best," said Grandon, sarcastically. He lifted one of the spoons and tasted the stew. "Phew, it's hot enough! Pepper, garlic, and hot water!"

"Does beat all how these fureigners do love their garlic," grumbled Luke. "'Twas the same way with them Spaniards in the Philippines."

"Garlic and grease," added Larry. "And this bread is hard enough to build a wall with," he continued. "However, we have got to eat or go hungry." And he partook of just enough to stay his stomach. Luke and Grandon were not so particular and despite their grumbling managed to make away with all that remained.

They saw nothing of the captain, or of the sailors who had been taken below, and the time hung heavily on their hands. At night they were given three hammocks and these they slung from one side of the prison to the other and rested as well as could be expected. The Russian sailors often came to the pen to gaze at them, but they had been warned not to attempt to converse with the prisoners, so nothing was said.

On the afternoon of the third day aboard of the Pocastra, those in the pen heard a loud shouting on deck, followed by a rush of feet. Larry, who was resting in the corner for the want of something better to do, leaped up.

"Something is doing!" he cried to his companions.

"Here comes Captain Ponsberry," ejaculated Tom Grandon.

He was right, the captain was coming up in company with Rosenvischpoff and two sailors. The Russian petty officer opened the door of the pen and Captain Ponsberry was thrust inside. Then the door was locked as before.

"How are you, boys?" cried the captain, cordially. "All well, I hope."

"We are," answered Grandon. "And you?"

"I'm well enough, but still angry to think that we lost the Columbia."

"So are we angry," said Larry. "But we've got to stand it. What's that noise?"

"They have sighted a Chinese junk, and I reckon they are going to treat her as they did our vessel," answered the captain.

The noise on deck continued, followed by quarter of an hour of silence. Then came a shot, followed by a second and a third.

"Another order to lay-to," said Larry. "Wonder if the Chinamen will give in as we did?"

"They will if they are wise," said Grandon.

But the Chinamen did not believe in surrendering thus easily. They were carrying rice for the Japanese army, and thought that this was known to the enemy. Consequently they did their best to sail away.

Hardly had the craft started on a new course when the Pocastra opened a direct fire upon her. The noise below decks was deafening and fairly shook the iron pen in which our friends were confined.

"Hullo, that sounds like real war!" cried Larry. "They mean business now."

One broadside was followed by another, and the Chinese junk was raked from end to end with such a deadly fire that more than a sixth of the sailors and officers were killed. Then the captain flung a white flag to the breeze in token of surrender.

"We have won!" cried those on the Pocastra, and it was not long before our friends understood. Small boats were put out, and presently half a dozen Chinese officers from the junk were brought on board as prisoners. A fire that had started on the prize ship was put out after some hard work; and then a temporary crew was put on board, and the junk followed in the wake of the old Columbia, with the warship keeping guard over both.