It would have been well for Russia had the authorities at Port Arthur inculcated the counsel given long ago by General Nogi, the man who was to carry the Sun-flag into their very midst. In that general’s opinion “the brilliant and faithful performances of a soldier on the battlefield are nothing but the blossoms and fruit of the work and training performed day by day in times of peace. The man whose life is in disorder during the days of peace would have a difficult task if he attempted to perform successfully and correctly the duties of a true soldier in the tumult of the battlefield.” Russia is represented conventionally in pictorial art as a bear, but the figure of an ostrich would be more appropriate, for, like Russia, that has wings but cannot soar, only run, and like the ostrich Russia thinks by hiding danger from its sight it thereby secures safety. By the end of the first week in February 1904 the relations between Russia and Japan were so strained that the official representatives of both countries left their posts. An act so indicative of danger as this has always been held to be, ought to have been received in Port Arthur either with gladness or with consternation. It was accepted by the officials with indifference: the public knew nothing until the Japanese came. Elsewhere such news would of itself be sufficient to cancel all private engagements made by members of the fighting services, but at Port Arthur so slight a matter would not warrant even the postponement of a social function. Monday, February 7, was the name-day of the Port Admiral’s wife and daughter. The invitations were out, the reception was given. Officers of all grades flocked to the residence from the forts and the ships. Those who had to make but a duty call, for the most part concluded the day by visiting some place of amusement. More intimate friends stayed to the reception. The social life of the port continued without a moment’s intermission. Midnight came, and shortly after midnight the foe attacked. Even then Port Arthur was slow to exert itself. It did not realize the danger that threatened. Some naval officers on shore said, and believed, that the firing in the roadstead was because of ‘naval manœuvres.’ Harbour, forts and town, for an hour or more, were absolutely at the mercy of the enemy, but the enemy did not know. The Russians had ignored sign after sign: the withdrawal of Ministers, the flight of the Japanese, the presence of the Japanese consul directing their embarkation, even the firing of their own guns against the invading enemy seemed insufficient to notify some officers that a state of war existed. _That_ was just what could not be believed. The foreign residents knew. At the sound of the first shot one woman jumped into a two-horse carriage and drove from the New Town right down to the beach, a distance of four miles, to make sure that the war she had been so long expecting had at last really commenced. CHAPTER IV War