that was not begun when I left America. A French fleet was in Japanese
waters and might be watching for us. It had two ships, either of them
stronger than the Variag.

As the Danzig disappeared we went below. "I hoped to go home at the
end of this voyage," said the captain as we seated around his table;
"but we must now remain in the Pacific. War has come and may give us
glory or the grave; possibly both."

For an hour we discussed the intelligence and the probabilities of its
truth. As we separated, Captain Lund repeated with emphasis his
opinion that the news was false.

"I do not believe it," said he; "but I must prepare for any
emergency."

In the wardroom the officers were exultant over the prospect of
promotion and prize money. The next day the men were exercised at the
guns, and for the rest of the voyage they could not complain of ennui.
The deck was cleared of all superfluous rubbish, and we were ready for
a battle. The shotted case for the signal books was made ready, and
other little preparations attended to. I seemed carried back to my
days of war, and had vivid recollections of being stormed at with shot
and shell.

From Ohotsk to the mouth of the Amoor is a direct course of about four
hundred miles. A light draught steamer would have made short work of
it, but we drew too much water to enter the northern passage. So we
were forced to sail through La Perouse Straits and up the Gulf of
Tartary to De Castries Bay. The voyage was more than twelve hundred