easy job of it as far as Port Arthur was concerned. The weather,
though so bitterly cold, was far from stormy, yet the difficulty of
rowing was increased naturally when we got out into the heavier waters
of the sea. So unpromising in fact did our situation look, that I
began to reflect whether it would not be better to stay about the
mouth of the harbour, and allow ourselves to be taken by some Japanese
ship, than wander off I knew not where, probably in the end to perish
of starvation. Luck decided the point. We had painfully made a couple
of miles from the estuary of the harbour, when we came upon a large
junk stranded on a sand-bank. There were no lights showing on board
her; in the obscurity we could see nobody; yet she did not look like a
wreck, and at first we did not know what to make of it. After a
consultation, it was decided to fire a shot from the rifle and see
what it would lead to. No sooner had the report rung out, than there
was a bustle and stir on the vessel's decks, which appeared suddenly
to swarm with men, and became illuminated by lanterns. I told Chung to
hail. He did so, and a voice replied in Chinese. We drew close
abreast, and my companions held a parley with those on board. Our
situation explained we were permitted to ascend. The junk was full of
men. She had got into her present predicament in escaping, and they
were waiting for the morning flood tide to float her off. Two or three
junks, we were told, had struck torpedoes in leaving the harbour and
been blown in pieces, and many others had fallen into the clutches of
the enemy. Those on board, besides her usual crew, were chiefly
soldiers. With the profound deference paid to rank by the Orientals,
the chief cabin was at once given up to the mandarin, who insisted on
my sharing it with him. He and Chung gave a most glowing account of me
to those on board, to whom, in my remarkable accoutrement, I was an
object of legitimate curiosity.