Shortly after casting anchor in the West Port, I lowered a boat to
take Lin Wong ashore. In the dockyard he ascertained that a fast steam
launch was to leave for Tientsin with despatches within two days, and
he arranged to take advantage of her departure to regain that port,
from which, it will be remembered, he had come on board the
_Columbia_. As he seemed well acquainted with Port Arthur, I got him
to take me round, and show me as much of the place as could be seen in
the two or three hours of leisure at my disposal, for the _Columbia_
was to trip her anchor again in the evening.

The general features of Port Arthur, or, to give it its native name,
Lu-Shun-Kou, must be tolerably familiar to all who have followed the
course of the war. A glance at the map shows its position, at the
southern extremity of the Liaotung Peninsula, commanding, with the
formidable forts of Wei-hai-wei on the opposite tongue of land, near
Chefoo, the entrance to the Gulf of Pechili. Although now the
principal arsenal and naval depôt of the Chinese Empire, it is of
quite recent creation, only having come into note since 1881, in which
year it was decided to establish a naval dockyard. Up to then it had
only been used as a harbour for junks employed in the timber trade and
carrying cargoes from the Yalu to ports in the Pechili Gulf, or from
the south to Niuchang and West Chin-chou. Native contractors having
made an extensive bungle of the job, it was entrusted to a French
company, and by them completed. Since then the place has increased,
from an insignificant village of sixty or seventy mud houses and a few
shops, to a town of over a thousand dwellings, as well as two large
theatres, two temples, and a number of banks and inns. The population
at the time of the Japanese incursion was about 5000 or 6000, in
addition to a garrison of about 7000. The port is very spacious and