smokeless coal, sailing in open order for safety against collisions, and without showing any lights. The Russian vessel with the torpedo-boats being disappointed in finding what she wanted at sea, proceeded to the usual place of anchorage of the Turkish squadron off Soulina mouth. Finding the weather bad, the commander thought that it was best not to attack; but it appears that one of the torpedo-boats, in disobedience of orders, made a dash at the Turkish squadron. This particular boat was armed with the Pole torpedo. The officer in command made a gallant charge at the first Turkish vessel he could discern through the darkness. As he approached her, he found that something all of a sudden stopped his way; and he saw several black objects approaching him. Nothing daunted, he struggled to get alongside the vessel under her bows. Finding that he could not succeed in getting quite close, he, in despair, discharged his torpedo, but without doing any harm whatever to the Turkish ship at which he directed it. Scarcely had he done so when (as he described his own sensations afterwards) he found himself in the water without knowing by what process he had got there, or how in the world it had all happened, – the real facts being that the black objects he saw were the guard-boats, which were being drawn closer and closer to him by the ropes that connected them together, which ropes fouling his screw had been the cause of the disaster. His boat was capsized and went to the bottom, whither he would have gone too if he had not been fished out by the crew of one of the Turkish guard-boats and taken prisoner. The greater part of his crew were drowned. The name of this daring young officer was Putskin; and his cool courage was very amusing, for when brought before the commanding officer of the Turkish squadron in a half-drowned condition, he could only exclaim, in excellent English, "Why the devil didn't I blow up that ship!"
He was asked if he had any idea as to what stopped him, and it was suggested to him that a rope between the guard-boats might have fouled his screw.
"Something of that sort must have happened," he answered. "But why the devil didn't I blow up that ship!"
The poor fellow seemed to have no thought regarding the sad plight he was in: he only grieved for not having succeeded in carrying out his object.
He explained to me that the other torpedo-boats which started with him were all armed with the Whitehead torpedo, but that it was impossible to use it in bad weather. The Pole torpedo might have done the deed he was so anxious to perform, and with it he might have succeed in "blowing up that ship." He was too plucky a fellow to be allowed to go back to the enemy, so we kept him a prisoner till the conclusion of the war; and I only hope that, for its own sake, the Russian Admiralty did not lose sight of such a dashing and determined officer.
While writing on incidents of the war, I will mention another interesting occurrence. A Turkish ironclad was lying off Soukoum Kali. That place being an open roadstead, she was very much exposed, and an excellent object for torpedo attack. A fast Russian cruiser was always hovering about, but the cordon of guard-boats connected by ropes prevented her torpedo-boat from making any attempt. This torpedo-boat was armed with
