While Gilbert was having his own troubles in Port Arthur the differences between Russia and Japan were speedily reaching the acute stage.

Long before, by the Anglo-Japanese treaty, Russia had promised to evacuate Manchuria. But this, as we have already seen, had not been done, and, instead the Russians had begun to flock to northern Korea, where a certain company obtained mining possessions and even began to construct fortifications.

These advances meant, to Japan, but one thing—the occupation, eventually, by Russia of the whole of Manchuria and Korea. This would become a constant menace to Japan, and protests were at once made at St. Petersburg, calling for a friendly settlement between the two interested nations and China and Korea.

The outcome was thoroughly unsatisfactory to Japan. Russia contended that so far as Manchuria was concerned she would treat only with China, and that Japan must keep out of the muddle. Regarding Korea she was willing to allow Japan to operate, commercially, in the south, so long as Russia was left alone in the north.

The discussion grew hotter and hotter, but Russia would not budge in the least from the stand first taken, and during the delay did all in her power to put her army and navy on a war footing. Perhaps the Russian authorities thought to catch the sons of Nippon napping; if so, they were sadly mistaken, as events soon after proved.

Negotiations were broken off on February 7, 1904. The Japanese minister left St. Petersburg, being called home by the Japanese Cabinet sitting at Tokio. The war was on.

The news was flashed around the world, and reached Port Arthur the next day after Gilbert had made his arrangements with the German hotel keeper. The city was in a greater excitement than ever, and on every corner large crowds collected, to talk over the situation.

If the Russians had been hard on the Japanese in the city before they were doubly so now, and some of the poorer Japanese hardly knew what to do. They were hounded from one spot to another, and, in some instances, made to leave behind them all they possessed.

“This is what I call mean,” said Gilbert to the hotel keeper. “The least the Russians could do would be to let them take their things and depart in peace.”

“Say noddings,” whispered the German, putting his finger beside his nose. “Say noddings, or you vos git into droubles ofer your head alreatty!” And after that Gilbert was more particular as to what he said in public. But his kindness to the Japanese had already been observed, and he was pointed out as one who had no sympathy with the Russian cause.

“If this thing keeps on, the best I can do is to get out of Port Arthur,” the young American told himself. And then he thought again of the Columbia, and wondered how those on board were faring.

Gilbert had gone to bed about ten o’clock and was sleeping soundly, when of a sudden he awoke and sat bolt upright.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded, half aloud, thinking somebody had given him a shaking.

Scarcely had the words left his lips than he heard a distant explosion. Then he realized that it had been a similar sound which had aroused him.

“Something is wrong, that is certain,” he mused. “That sounded like a small powder magazine going up. Can it be that the war has really begun?”

While he was meditating another explosion rent the midnight air—this time louder than ever. Waiting no longer, he sprang out on the floor of his room, and donned his clothing as rapidly as possible. He heard many folks walking through the hotel, and footsteps could also be heard on the street, hurrying in various directions.

“What does this mean?” he asked, as soon as he was outside.

Nobody could tell, just then. But all said the explosions had come from the direction of the harbor, and hither, by common consent, the majority of the citizens flocked.

With the crowd went Gilbert, and from one of the wharves made out the searchlights of several Russian ships of war. Several shots had in the meanwhile been fired, but now all became as quiet as before.

“Those explosions meant something, that is certain,” said Gilbert to the hotel keeper.

“Vell, you haf been a soldier, you should know,” was the reply. “Maype dem ships vos fightin’, hey?”

“Perhaps, or a magazine at one of the forts blew up.”

The first blow in this great contest had been struck, and it had proved telling in the extreme. As soon as the war was a certainty, Admiral Togo of the Japanese navy left Sasebo with a squadron of sixteen vessels and some torpedo boats, and steamed directly for Port Arthur. The vicinity of the port was gained on the afternoon of February 8 and at once orders went forth to torpedo every Russian warship that showed itself.

Among the Russian ships in the port at the time were the cruiser Pallada, and the two battleships, Czarevitch and Retvizan. The battleships were the pride of the Czar’s navy, each being about thirteen thousand tons displacement, and each having a broadside fire of thirty-five hundred pounds.

The plans of the Japanese were kept carefully concealed from the enemy, and before the Russians could realize that anything was wrong that night, the three ships mentioned were torpedoed,—the torpedoes tearing great holes in their sides and bottoms.

The torpedoing of the three ships occurred while the Russian fleet, under Admiral Stark, were doing their best to keep the Japanese warships from coming too close to the city. The forts of Port Arthur also opened fire, and it was in this din and confusion that the Japanese torpedo boat destroyers slipped close in and did their deadly work. Soon after this Admiral Togo signaled his fleet to withdraw, which they did, the darkness of the sea speedily swallowing them up.

“Well, the war has opened at last, that is certain,” said Gilbert, after the excitement had somewhat subsided.

His own soldier blood was beginning to be aroused, and he half wished he could get into the fray himself.

“I rather guess Larry Russell would enjoy this,” he mused, remembering how his friend had taken part in the great naval battle of Manila Bay under Admiral Dewey.

Further sleep was out of the question for the ex-lieutenant, and at early dawn he swallowed a light breakfast, and hastened once more to the water front, which was now lined everywhere with people. The excitement was at a fever heat, and it was reported that the Japanese were going to return, to bombard the city.

In his travels around Port Arthur Gilbert had stumbled across an old stone building which, in years gone by, had been used as a sort of storehouse by the Manchu rulers. The building was now practically deserted and he had no difficulty in getting inside. There was small stone tower to the structure, and he ascended this until he reached a point where he could go outside.

The view from this elevated position was an excellent one. In front of him the inner and outer harbor of the port lay spread out as on a map, and having brought with him a good pair of field glasses he could see for miles.

“Hullo, there is certainly something wrong with those ships,” he told himself, and then he saw the Czarevitch and the Retvizan settled near the harbor entrance. The Pallada was not so badly injured; yet her fighting days were practically over, so far as this war was concerned.

The sinking of their ships had stirred the Russian fighting blood as it had not been stirred before, and with the coming of daylight Admiral Stark’s men were more than anxious to fight the Japanese vessels in the open.

The opportunity was not long in arriving. Three Japanese cruisers could be seen in the distance, and about noon the whole fleet of sixteen fighting ships hove into sight. When still three miles away they opened fire on the Russian fleet and on the forts of the harbor.

“Now they are going to have it hot and heavy,” Gilbert told himself and his prediction proved correct—the bombardment lasting over an hour. Being shelled by the Japanese ships, the Port Arthur forts replied as vigorously as they could, thus compelling Admiral Togo’s vessels to keep their distance. In the meantime some of the Russian ships advanced to the attack. These included the Poltava, Novik, Askold, and Diana. All of them proved to be no match for the alert Japanese, and each was so badly damaged it had to return to the harbor as speedily as possible. In this engagement the Japanese lost no ships and less than sixty men killed and wounded. What the losses were to the Russians is not known, but they must have been heavy.

To Gilbert, who had spent so much of his time as a soldier, the scene was a most absorbing one, and with his field glasses to his eyes he took careful note of every movement within sight. The booming of the ships’ cannon came to him distinctly, as well as the roar of the land batteries closer at hand.

Presently some sounds below him reached his ears, and he knew that a number of persons had entered the building and were talking excitedly among themselves. He glanced over the edge of the tower and saw that the courtyard below was filled with Russian soldiers, who had just arrived in Port Arthur, and were going to make the building their temporary quarters.

“I wonder if they’ll try to stop me when I go down,” Gilbert asked himself, and then, hearing more firing from a land battery not far away, he turned his attention once more to the battle. Shot and shell were flying in all directions, and the air of the harbor and the sea beyond hung heavy with black smoke.

Just behind Gilbert was a small point of the tower, built of rough stone. The young American was just wondering if he could mount this and get a still better view, when a strange noise close to his ear caused him to drop his field glasses in a hurry.

“That was a shot as sure as fate!” he muttered. “Perhaps I had better get out of here!”

For a moment he stood undecided, but then his courage returned and he gazed once more at the scene before him. A Japanese cruiser was pounding one of the Russian ships at a lively rate and he was unwilling to miss the exhibition.

Thinking to get a better view from another part of the tower, Gilbert started to walk in that direction. He had scarcely taken two steps when he heard a crash overhead, and in a twinkling a mass of stones and dirt came tumbling down around him. A stray cannon ball had hit the point of the tower, and the missile must have passed within a few feet of the young American’s head.

The stray shot was a most unexpected one, and Gilbert cannot be blamed if he dodged and thought of running away. Some of the stones hit him, and the dirt filled his eyes, but he was not seriously hurt.

“Reckon I had best get out of here,” he told himself, and started to go below, when a voice from the inside of the tower startled him.

“There is somebody up here,” came in Russian. “That American they told us about!”