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

When the Columbia arrived at Nagasaki, Captain Ponsberry learned that the war had begun and that to get to Port Arthur – a Russian stronghold in Manchuria – was out of the question. While he was awaiting orders Gilbert Pennington appeared on the scene. Gilbert had had great difficulties in getting away from Port Arthur, having been suspected by the Russian officials of being a spy. He wished to know at once if the ship's cargo was safe.

"As safe as when we left home," had been Captain Ponsberry's reply.

"Good!" answered the young agent, and then he wished to know if anything had been done about selling the goods. Captain Ponsberry replied that he had been ordered to do nothing until he received word from Gilbert. This suited the young representative; and the upshot of the matter was that the cargo, instead of going to a Russian port, was sold to the Japanese Government at a price considerably above the ordinary market value.

Gilbert Pennington was enthusiastic about joining the Japanese army for a campaign in Manchuria and he imparted a large share of this enthusiasm to Ben Russell. As a result both enlisted and became captains in a special command, under a Major Okopa, who could speak very good English. The part of the army to which they were assigned landed at Chinampo, in Korea, and in the second volume of this series, called "Under the Mikado's Flag," I related the particulars of the crossing of the Yalu River and of the many skirmishes and battles leading up to the terrific ten-days' contest before Liao Yang. During these fights Ben and Gilbert did their full duty as officers, and when the Russians retreated to the North both were well content to take a much-needed rest. But additional struggles were still in store for them, as will be learned in the pages which follow.

At first Larry Russell had been inclined to follow his brother and his friend Gilbert into the Japanese army. But Captain Ponsberry did not wish to lose his services as a second mate, and when it was decided that the Columbia should make a quick run to Manila and back, for another cargo for the Japanese Government, he made up his mind to stick to the ship.

The run to Manila from Nagasaki was made without special incident, and, once at the main seaport of the Philippines, Captain Ponsberry lost no time in getting on board the cargo the Richmond Importing Company had ready for him. The cargo was a valuable one and it was calculated that if rightly sold it would yield the company a profit of five or six thousand dollars.

"You have got to take care and not run into any Russian warship," said the agent of the company at Manila. "If you do you may have a whole lot of trouble in explaining matters to the Russian commander's satisfaction. I see by the reports that the Russians have already held up several English and South American ships."

"I shall keep a sharp lookout for 'em," was Captain Ponsberry's reply.

"And another thing, Captain," went on the agent, in a lower tone; "you want to watch your crew."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't like the looks of two or three of them. For all you know they may be more than willing to expose you – if you fall in with the Russians. Can you trust your first and second mates?"

"I can! They are as honest as myself."

"Then caution them to keep an eye on the hands. One of those fellows looks like a Russian to me – the chap with the heavy black beard."

"You mean Semmel. He says he is a Pole and that he hates the Russians."

"Humph! Well, I saw him talking to a lot of Russians night before last. And when they passed a Jap the whole crowd jeered at the little brown man."

"Semmel, too?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall watch him," answered Captain Ponsberry, decidedly.

"Do, but don't let him know it. Some of these foreign sailors are ugly when they find out they are being suspected."

"Trust me to manage him," returned the commander of the Columbia ; and there the talk on the subject came to an end.

Larry found Captain Ponsberry working over a chart on the cabin table, laying out the course of the ship. The commander of the Columbia was a bluff, hearty individual and he and the young second mate thought a great deal of each other.

"Well, what is it?" asked the captain, looking up quickly.

"I came to report that a storm is coming up from the west," answered Larry.

"Humph! I was afraid we'd catch it sooner or later. Is it close up yet?"

"It's coming up pretty fast."

Captain Ponsberry said no more, but threw down his parallel rulers and his pencil. Catching up his cap, he mounted to the deck, and the young second mate followed at his heels. The captain gave a long look to the westward and then a gaze around the remainder of the horizon.

"Tell Cal Vincent to call all hands to shorten sail!" he called out to Larry. "Tell 'em to tumble up quick, too – thet storm ain't none too far off for comfort!"

Larry passed the word to Cal Vincent, who was the boatswain of the Columbia , and soon the whistle piped up shrilly, and those who were below or in the forecastle, came on deck in a hurry. Already the wind was freshening, ruffling up the whitecaps in all directions. The sky, that had been so blue a short while before, became leaden, and the depths of the ocean took on a somber hue. The barometer indicated a great and immediate change.

"Lay aloft there, men!" cried Captain Ponsberry. "Our sails are mostly new and we don't want them ripped up if we can help it. Skip along there, Peterson!" The latter words to a big sailor who was moving across the deck at a snail's pace.

The sailor addressed, scowled. It was not his watch on deck and he hated to have his midday nap disturbed.

"Got a nail in ma boot," he said.

"Well, haul it out – after the sails are trimmed," returned the captain, and then turned to another hand: "Semmel, what's the matter with you?" This to the suspicious-looking sailor with the heavy black beard.

"Nodding," grumbled Semmel, and turned away sulkily.

"Then get a move on, or we may lose a stick as well as a sail," and there followed a perfect volley of orders in a tone that none of the sailors misunderstood. Up to the yards they crawled like so many monkeys, and soon the creaking of halyard blocks was heard, as the topsails came down. The jib and flying jib were also taken in, and a little later the main-course and the mizzen-course.

"Reckon we can stand the fore-course for a little while longer," said Captain Ponsberry to Tom Grandon. "What do you think?"

"We can, unless it comes quicker nor it is coming now," returned the first mate.

"Well, keep an eye on the wind and reef her as soon as it begins to look nasty," said Captain Ponsberry, and returned to the cabin, to finish his nautical calculations.

The Columbia had left the last of the Philippines behind and was headed north through the China Sea toward the lower extremity of Formosa. She was not as new a ship as when Larry had first boarded her at Honolulu, for since that time she had seen half a dozen years of hard service. But Captain Ponsberry was a careful man and believed in making repairs as soon as they were needed, so there was small danger of her opening her seams or going to pieces even in the stiffest of blows. She leaked a little – the best of ships do that – but a short pumping every morning kept the water at the bottom of the well.

As second mate, it was Larry's duty to see that everything on the deck was "ship-shape," and this was especially necessary when a storm was coming up. He made a tour of the ship, his keen eyes taking in every detail.

As it happened, an hour before he had set the sailor Semmel to work stowing away some odds and ends of rope. He had supposed that this task was long since finished, but now he found the ropes scattered about as before.