The North Pacific

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Willis Boyd Allen. The North Pacific

PREFACE

CHAPTER I. THE TRIAL OF THE "RETVIZAN."

CHAPTER II "MAN OVERBOARD!"

CHAPTER III. SEALED ORDERS

CHAPTER IV. UNCLE SAM'S PACKING

CHAPTER V. OTO'S STRANGE VISIT

CHAPTER VI. A SCRAP IN MALTA

CHAPTER VII. O-HANA-SAN'S PARTY

CHAPTER VIII. A BATCH OF LETTERS

CHAPTER IX. AT THE CZAR'S COMMAND

CHAPTER X. THE FIRST BLOW

CHAPTER XI. IN THE MIKADO'S CAPITAL

CHAPTER XII. BETWEEN TWO FIRES

CHAPTER XIII. WYNNIE MAKES A BLUNDER

CHAPTER XIV. THE ATTACK OF THE "OCTOPUS"

CHAPTER XV. UNDER THE RED CROSS

CHAPTER XVI. THE LAST TRAIN FROM PORT ARTHUR

CHAPTER XVII. DICK SCUPP'S ADVENTURE

CHAPTER XVIII. OSHIMA GOES A-FISHING

CHAPTER XIX. AMONG THE CLOUDS

CHAPTER XX. THE DOGGER BANK AFFAIR

CHAPTER XXI. THE FALL OF PORT ARTHUR

CHAPTER XXII. ON BOARD THE "KUSHIRO."

CHAPTER XXIII. TRAPPED IN MANCHURIA

CHAPTER XXIV. THE LITTLE FATHER

CHAPTER XXV. LARKIN RETIRES FROM BUSINESS

CHAPTER XXVI "THE DESTINY OF AN EMPIRE."

CHAPTER XXVII. ORDERED HOME

Отрывок из книги

It was a clear, cool afternoon in early September, 1901. In the country the tawny hillsides were warmed to gold by the glow of the autumn sun, while here and there a maple lifted its crimson torch as if the forest were kindling where the rays were the hottest. Brown, golden, and scarlet leaves floated slowly downward to the ground; flocks of dark-winged birds drifted across the sky or flitted silently through the shadows of the deep wood; the call of the harvester to his straining team sounded across the fields for a moment – then all was still again. But for the creak of a waggon, the distant bark of a dog, the fitful whisper and rustle of the wind in the boughs overhead, the whirring chatter of a squirrel, the world seemed lost in a day-dream of peace.

Only a few miles away the air was rent by a clamour of discordant sound. Ponderous hammers beat upon plates of iron and brass; machinery rumbled and shrieked and hissed at its work; a thousand men, labouring as if for their lives, pulled, pushed, lifted, pounded, shouted orders, warnings, replies above the din that beat upon the ear like a blacksmith's blows upon an anvil. From the tall chimneys poured endless volumes of black smoke that were reflected in the blue waters of the river and mimicked by innumerable puffs of steam. The place was like a volcano in the first stages of eruption. A vast upheaval seemed imminent. Yet the countless toilers worked securely and swiftly, fashioning that dread floating citadel of modern warfare, the Battleship.

.....

Sure enough, a small, white-aproned figure came daintily picking his way down into the jarring, clanging, oily engine-room. He seemed a bit troubled to find two of its occupants regarding him intently, as he stepped upon the iron floor.

"Mist' Johnson no here?" he asked innocently, gazing around him.

.....