"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.
CHAPTER XIV
PROGRESS OF THE WAR
An hour after the capture of the Chinese junk one of the officers of the ill-fated craft was thrust into the prison pen with our friends.
He was a small sallow-eyed Celestial rejoicing in the name of Won Lung, and it was soon learned that he could speak a little English, he having once paid a visit to San Francisco.
"All go up spout!" said he, referring to his own ship. "T'ink we safe when Russian gunboat come, den all up spout!"
"Did they sink your ship?" asked Captain Ponsberry.
"No sink – shoot holes, back, front, side – all up spout. No fightee no more den – all up spout!" The latter was his pet phrase and he used it over and over again.
"You were in the Japanese trade?"
"Yes – carry rice. Now Russians got rice, got junk – all Won Lung's money gone up spout!" And the Celestial made an odd little grimace.
"Well, they took my ship, too."
"Big schooner your shipee?"
"Yes."
"Won Lung weep for you – all ship gone up spout, samee like Won Lung's ship gone up spout!"
"Well, we haven't gone up the spout yet," put in Larry, with a laugh. "Let us thank fortune that we are alive and well."
"Dat so – Won Lung lose fliends on junk – six, seven, ten – don't know how many yet," and the Chinese officer shook his head sadly. "Bad war, bad!"
"Can you tell us how the war is going?" asked Tom Grandon. "These Russians say everything is a Russian victory."
"Russians sayee dat?"
"Yes – they pretend to say they have the Japs about beaten."
At this Won Lung screwed up his eyes into mere slits.
"Big lie dat. Japanese win everyt'ing allee timee. Russian warships gone up spout – Russian army run like – like – up spout!"
After that Won Lung told them all he knew. It was hard to understand him, yet they gathered that there had been another sea fight in the vicinity of Port Arthur, in which the Russian navy had come off second best, and that the Japanese army that had landed in Korea had driven the enemy to the northwestward, over the Yalu River, and was now forcing them back upon Liao-Yang.
"If this news about the army is true, Ben and Gilbert must be having a hot time of it," was Larry's comment. "I must say, I am mighty glad they are on the winning side."
"Didn't I tell ye them Russians are a lot o' blowers?" came from Luke. "The truth ain't in 'em half the time."
"Perhaps they do not get the correct news from the front," came from Captain Ponsberry. "The censors may keep the bad news back, for fear of disheartening the rest of the men in the army and navy."
"They tell me the Russians are very strict about sending out news," rejoined Larry.
"It is true, Larry; no country on the globe is stricter. No telegram can be sent without it is inspected, and the newspapers cannot print a single scrap of news, or a single editorial, until after the press censor has passed upon it."
"If that's the case, I don't wonder that some of the people want to be free."
"Russia is more free to-day than she ever was before, and freedom is bound to come sooner or later – that is, I mean, not such freedom as we have in the United States, but such freedom as they have in England and Germany – where, at least, a man can call his soul his own."
"It's a wonder the Russians will fight for their country, if they are so ground down."
"They know nothing better, and besides, they are really patriotic. If the Czar would only treat them a little better, and give them a little more liberty, they would be the most faithful of subjects. But when a man can't do at all as he wants to do, and can't open his mouth about it either, he is apt to grow sullen and ugly."
As day after day went by life on the Russian warship became almost unendurable for Larry and the others. They suffered greatly for the want of fresh air, and at last made a vigorous protest to the captain of the ship, when he happened to be passing the pen. As a result orders were given that they should be allowed three hours on deck each day, one in the morning and two after dinner.
"This is a little like," said Larry, when coming on deck for the first time. "Oh, how good it feels to breathe fresh air once more!" And he filled his lungs to their fullest capacity.
For their daily exercise Larry and Luke were chained together, and the pair inspected with great curiosity as much of the warship as was allowed.
"It's not so very different from some of our own auxiliary cruisers," said Larry. "But, after all, I like ours better."
"That's right, lad; stick up fer your own country every trip."
"Well, what do you say, Luke?"
"I say I'd rather be on one of Uncle Sam's ships than on any other in the world."
While allowed to roam around on deck, Larry often looked eagerly for the Columbia, but the schooner and the Chinese junk were too far off to be distinguished with the naked eye.
"We'd give a good deal to be back on her deck, wouldn't we, Luke?" said he.
"Don't mention it, lad; it makes me sick," grumbled the Yankee tar.
"I wish I knew just what was being done on land, don't you? Perhaps this war will end soon, and then we'll be set free."
"It won't end yet awhile, Larry, mark my words on that," answered Luke.
The old Yankee sailor was right – the war was far from ended, and here it may be well to note briefly what was taking place on the sea between Russia and Japan, while the army of the Mikado was pushing through Manchuria in the direction of Liao-Yang.
The loss of the great battleship Petropavlovsk has already been recorded in "Under the Mikado's Flag." This vessel was sunk by a mine in Port Arthur harbor, April 13, 1904, and carried down with her Admiral Makaroff and about five hundred officers and men. At the same time the battleship Pobieda was also injured by a mine.