upon the bosom of the sunlit, shot-torn sea, the one with her rudder and
propeller blown away by a torpedo that had all but sent her to the
bottom, the other with her engines badly broken down, the result of
Chinese officials having stolen and disposed of many parts, which had
had to be roughly replaced at the last moment. They were both fighting
fiercely, however, like tough old wolves at bay, and, although hemmed in
by several Japanese cruisers, were as yet giving back almost as good as
they got. The game was up for them, though, as they were quite unable
to manoeuvre, and only the thickness of their armour and the light
calibre of the guns of the ships opposed to them had prevented them from
going down long before. Frequently, too, Frobisher noticed, there were
long pauses between the discharges of the _Yen-fu's_ and the
_Tung-yen's_ great guns, as well as those of others of the Chinese
ships; and he made a shrewd guess that these were the occasions when the
faulty, charcoal-filled cartridges failed to explode. The _Shan-si_,
with Captain James in command, was practically the only entirely
undamaged ship still possessed by the Chinese--not because she had not
been in the thickest of the fight, for she had, but just through one of
those curious chances of warfare which are constantly occurring. She
was doing sovereign service, rushing here, there, and everywhere,
planting her shells coolly and accurately, and sweeping the Japanese
decks with rifle and machine-gun fire; and many were the attempts made
by the enemy's destroyers to torpedo her and put her safely out of
harm's way. But, thanks to her captain's skill and his personal care of
everything pertaining to his ship, neither was she badly hit, nor did
her machinery break down at a critical moment; and she went her
relentless way, dealing death and destruction about her unchecked.

The _Yung-chau_ and _Kau-ling_ were being engaged by the _Hiroshima,
Naniwa_ (a ship afterwards celebrated in the Russo-Japanese war), and
the _Okinoshima_--each of which was much larger than either of the
Chinese ships--and were getting a terrible punishing. Although still
moving, and more or less under control, they were leaking steam and
smoke from every crevice and opening, and ominous spirals of smoke were
filtering up through the _Yung-chau's_ decks. She had been set on fire
close to her bunkers by a Japanese shell, and, almost in less time than
it takes to write it, was a