March 31st.—Arrived at Kamranh. We are lying with engines stopped.

Steamboats and torpedo-boats have gone to reconnoitre and take soundings. Coaling is just beginning. As we approached this morning there was a fog. Suddenly it lifted, and between the fleet and the shore a steamer was seen. Seeing the fleet, she went full speed, hoping to escape. The Jemchug, Isumrud, and Svietlana were sent to examine her. They overtook her, questioned her, and let her go without examination.

How many steamers were allowed to go in this way! I am firmly convinced that many of them were carrying goods and provisions to Japan. We allowed them to go after merely questioning them, and not even setting foot on their decks. What sort of a fool would admit that he was taking a cargo to Japan? Steamers should be searched, and not questioned. We have let this one go. Why did she run if there was nothing contraband on board?

The Japanese would have acted differently. They would not have parted from them with answers only. Everything drops into our hands, and we neglect it. How the Japanese and their friends must jeer at us! And they are right.

It is hot here. At Vladivostok it is cold. When we arrive there the sharp change of temperature will hardly be conducive to health. There will probably be much catarrh, and even here at Kamranh it is easy to go down with the local fever. A cold wind comes from the hills.

The colliers should arrive soon, bringing the old mails. I count on receiving letters from December 13th to January 21st.

Where has that respected institution called the Naval General Staff sent our letters now? Probably they are pigeon-holed in Petersburg. We have not yet entered the bay, but are lying near it. In the depths of my heart flutters a hope that the Orel brings your answering telegram. The last one was a month and half ago.

We shall evidently receive nothing from Kamranh, neither provisions nor stores. It is beginning to be doubtful if we shall be able to send a mail. It is supposed that our stay here will not be long. We shall take in coal and stores, and move on.

The distance from here to Vladivostok as the crow flies, i.e. in a straight line, is little more than 3,000 versts. Of course, our journey will be considerably longer. I reckon that if nothing happens we can do it in fifteen days. Trying days they will be. Perhaps the course we choose will be round about, in which case we shall toss on the sea a long time.

11 p.m.—The transports and some of the torpedo-boats have entered the bay; the other torpedo-boats and warships will remain at sea, cruising round Kamranh with lights. Probably we shall go into the bay to-morrow. There are signs that we shall wait here for the third fleet. If you could but imagine what is going on! If it were possible for me to tell you all about it, you would be amazed. Should I live, I will tell you afterwards. No, there is no use our fighting. Things have come to such a pass that I can only wring my hands and feel assured that no one can escape his fate, for this is the only possible assurance.

The weather has begun to grow cooler. The engines and boilers of all the ships are worn, especially the boilers. It is not surprising, considering that for thirty days we have not let go an anchor. Everything has its limits.

April 1st.—Kamranh Bay. We have only just begun to enter the bay, having spent thirty days at sea.

The hospital-ship Orel has not returned, nor have the colliers come. Have they fallen into the hands of the Japanese?

When our warships approached close to Kamranh, fishermen were seen in their boats; but for some reason not one of them came near us.

In the morning a little bird, apparently an exhausted canary, was caught on deck.

Last night was cooler. I woke up dry this morning. Such a thing has not happened to me for a very long time.

One cannot help wondering if it is wise, losing so much time at Kamranh. All the preparations Japan made for meeting us at the Sunda Straits can be transferred to another spot. They will have time to construct everything afresh. Their device at Sunda Strait having failed, it will be more advantageous for them to meet our fleet nearer their own shores, where they could at once repair their damages and where they have many bases.

All this compels me to think that we are hardly likely to meet them before passing Formosa. Of course, if we remain long at this place, circumstances may alter, and afford the Japanese the possibility of attacking us in the bay itself, and of mining it. In that case Kamranh will be an actual trap. It seems to me that the Japanese consider us more crafty than we really are. On the contrary, we are very simple. I say "simple" in order not to use a stronger term.

We have just anchored. The approaching colliers can be seen in the distance. The shores of the bay are hilly, in some places covered with growth; in others there is grey stone or sand. The sand is a curious colour; sometimes it is quite white, and sometimes yellow.

I have to go away in the steamboat. During the night, two torpedo-boats went to examine a passing steamer, and the Blestyastchy managed to tear the Bezuprechny's side. The sea is not wide enough for two Russian torpedo-boats! They must be repaired. In the Bezuprechny the rudder is out of order, and one engine does not work.

Officers who went into the bay in torpedo-boats yesterday state that at Kamranh there are post and telegraph offices, plenty of provisions, and that a railway is being constructed to Saigon.

A telegram was received here yesterday that the third fleet had left Jibutil. Hava's agency states that a great fight occurred between our fleet and the Japanese, near the island of Borneo. Such false news will only cause uneasiness in Russia.

Three weeks ago two Japanese cruisers arrived here, but two torpedo-boats were sent from Saigon demanding them to leave the bay. They went. Perhaps they will tell us to go away from here, and evidently it is supposed that we shall remain here a long time.

The external appearance of the bay and its entrances compare with Port Arthur. I hope it will not actually become a second Port Arthur.

They are just bringing the mail from the collier.

April 2nd.—Yesterday the admirals and captains of all ships were sent for on board the Suvaroff. There was a council of war.

The collier only brought from Diego Suarez letters which were addressed to Madagascar. For some ships there were no letters, and for others only two or three each. There was much swearing over it.

The hospital-ship Orel is approaching and brings news. Yesterday about 3 p.m. I went to the Bezuprechny. The work there seemed enormous. They wanted a fortnight to do it in. I undertook to do it in forty-eight hours, and I think I shall succeed. I went to bed at four—slept in the Kamchatka in the captain's deck cabin. I made myself very dirty. In the torpedo-boats I always take care to wear some one else's white tunic when I have to crawl about.

I fed in the Kamchatka. They feed there better than in the Suvaroff. A Chinese cook has been engaged from Singapore for the admiral's table; perhaps the Orel is bringing him here.

The workmen in the Kamchatka are without tobacco, and pay ten copecks for a cigarette. How is this? Tobacco was sent them from the Suvaroff. I got on board with difficulty, as there was no boat.

At sunset I shall go to the torpedo-boat, and spend the night there. They sent off a mail while I was away. I was sorry I could not send a letter. When I leave the Suvaroff again I shall leave this one, and hope that it will be sent somehow.

How carelessly they deal with the post! It was decided that the Gortchakoff (transport) should go to Russia from Nosi Be. They sent the mail in her and many sailors' letters. The Gortchakoff came with us, all the correspondence is in her, and the senders think that the letters have already been received at home. It is very annoying. Several letters contained money.

The Orel took the invalid officer to Saigon, in order that he might go back to Russia.

When we were passing through the straits of Malacca a sailor of the Alexander disappeared, with his hammock. They thought he wanted to desert the ship, and had thrown himself overboard, taking with him his hammock, which was covered with cork and floats. When the Bezuprechny received her injury a servant thought she was sinking, and waking all the officers, he put a life-belt into their hands.

There is a goat in that torpedo-boat. They brought her from Nosi Be. During the thirty days' passage she fed only on paper, did not eat hay, and even now refuses it. They nurse her like a baby. All the visiting-cards have been eaten by her. To-day she has been taken for a run on shore.

A boatswain and a sailor were buried to-day. They were killed by a derrick in the Irtish. In almost every port there are victims of accidents in the fleet.

I saw some natives—Annamese. They are of the Malay type, yellow and rather repulsive. They approached the Kamchatka and Bezuprechny, offering to sell various rubbish. The tobacco was quickly bought up, and they paid very dearly for it.

Will the Orel bring me an answer to my telegram? How delighted I should be if I received it!

We are coaling in the Suvaroff. Everywhere there is dirt and nastiness; they are heaping up coal in the wardroom and in the officers' cabins.

1 a.m.—Received your telegram. Many thanks.

April 3rd.—Transport Kamchatka, Kamranh Bay.

At last I can write. I have not been in the Suvaroff since yesterday. All the time I was either in the Bezuprechny or on board the Kamchatka, where I am now writing to you. I obtained paper, went into the deck-house, and am scribbling. Horrible! Whole flocks of cockroaches are running about.

The German steamer Dagmar weighed anchor yesterday to go to Saigon. She was stopped and given a mail from the staff. I took advantage of this, and gave my letters to be sent to her.

I am not satisfied with the work in the Bezuprechny. I counted on finishing it to-day, and have not succeeded. The sea and the swell hindered it. Her rudder is repaired, and they are now repairing the breach.

Yesterday a French cruiser came to Kamranh with an admiral. Salutes were exchanged. The admirals paid each other visits. To-day the cruiser left.

11 p.m.—Battleship Kniaz Suvaroff.

I had scarcely succeeded in writing the last page when a letter from the Suvaroff came for me. I found the ship horribly dirty. Everywhere there was coal-dust as thick as your finger. It hangs in the air like a fog. I do not know where or how to sleep. It is hot and dusty in the cabin. Last night I dozed, sitting on the Kamchatka's deck in a chair (a canvas one like those used in datchas[15]). I woke up at six o'clock in the morning.

These last days I have been feeding in the Bezuprechny, or sometimes in the Kamchatka. They feed better everywhere than in the Suvaroff. It has been awkward about provisions up to now. Everything has been bought up on shore. Literally nothing remains. Eggs are sold at twenty-eight copecks a-piece (about 7d.). In the morning they were selling ox-meat for nearly a gold piece.

Altogether there are four Europeans living on shore, and forty Malays. It is almost a desert. There are only five or six houses. The engineers who are constructing the railway live on the opposite side of the bay.

There is a telegraph and post-office here. A Chinese receives the correspondence, and does it very slowly. From twelve to six yesterday he only took ten telegrams and twelve letters from two men. Twelve men were unable to hand in anything. A Chinese clerk is not a quick worker.

There is splendid sport here—elephants, tigers, monkeys, etc.

A clerk from the Donskoi was buried on shore to-day. Admiral Folkersham has had a stroke, but the doctors say it is very slight and not dangerous. Do you remember I told you a sailor threw himself and his hammock into the straits of Malacca? A steamer picked him up, took him to Singapore, handed him over to the Russian consul, who sent him to Saigon, and from there he was sent to the fleet. He declares that he fell overboard accidentally.

When the hospital-ship Orel approached Saigon she was met by a cutter and a steamer of GÜnsburg's, which had come to co-operate with her. The public were not allowed on board the Orel. In the evening, papers came out announcing that the Japanese had been defeated by our fleet, that the Orel was full of wounded, whose groans were audible, although no one was allowed on board, etc. Such lies can only agitate people in Russia. The Japanese, of whom there are many in Saigon, were so offended that next day they did not leave their houses.

I was afraid I should not have been able to write to you to-day. It would have been the first time. Even on the day of the storm off the Cape of Good Hope, on December 8th, I managed to write a few words.

April 4th.—It was arranged by signal that all engineer-constructors should assemble to meet me. After having spoken to them, I set out for the Nachimoff. I lunched there and drank two wineglasses of vodky, two tumblers of beer, and a little claret. It so happened that it would have been difficult to refuse them.

In the Nachimoff all the partitions of the officers' cabins have been broken down (so that there should not be a fire). The furniture and the sleeping-bunks have been taken away. The mattresses lie on the floor.

All the ships have prepared for battle, and present a strange appearance. Everywhere there are defences made out of chains, torpedo-nets, coal, hawsers, sailors' hammocks, etc.—anything that comes to hand. The ships have nothing in common with what one is accustomed to see.

Three elephants have been brought here for sale. It is not likely that any one will purchase them.

The French cruiser has returned, and lies in the bay by the side of our ships. It is known that a steamer will pass Kamranh soon, taking about 280 poods of rice to Japan. The admiral evidently hesitates about stopping her, fearing that he will draw on himself the accusation of making a base of a neutral port for the operations of his cruisers. The captain of the steamer is not averse to giving himself up, and will not hide or fly from pursuit.

Although we are lying at Kamranh, matters stand like this—any moment we may expect an order to weigh anchor. Everything is in readiness for this.

The sailor who threw himself into the straits of Malacca has been brought here. He belongs to the Nachimoff, and not the Alexander, as I told you before. Until the steamer picked him up he kept himself afloat in the water for nearly ten hours. To lighten himself he took everything off, only leaving a piece of neck-cover on his shoulders, so that the sun should not scorch him. He went overboard at night, and they drew him out next day. "It was trying, going on board the steamer," he said. "They all looked at me, and I had nothing on."

We have to go 4,500 versts to Vladivostok. If we do not leave here soon, we shall have dark, moonless nights.

April 5th.—Kamranh Bay. How tired I am to-day! All day long I have been going from ship to ship. They have not made me a dirk in the Borodino, as the officer who promised it is lying ill.

The officers in the Oleg are angry because Admiral Enquist is being transferred to her.

The Aurora's officers went shooting, but only killed a dove. They did not go far from the shore.

April 6th.—All the battleships and the Aurora weighed anchor and went to sea. The rest of the ships remained in the bay.

I smoked my last Russian cigarette.

Some of the transports are going to Saigon, and perhaps will not return.

How news is fabricated! There is a Reuter's telegram (and Reuter publishes the most trustworthy news) that in the fight with the Japanese our fleet lost the torpedo-boats Buiny and Blestyastchy, and two cruisers, the Aurora and the Donskoi. Pleasant for those to read this telegram whose nearest are in these ships. Although the cook has not arrived, the food has improved. Provisions were obtained from a steamer which arrived from Saigon.

There is a Japanese mineral water called "Jansen." A great deal of this water has been brought to the fleet. I tried it, and it was not bad.

The people who sorted the provisions behaved like wild wolves. There were some disgusting scenes. The crew of the Orel broke open a box and got drunk. For some reason a sailor threw himself on the doctor with raised fists, but did not succeed in hitting him. Two officers who happened to be near seized the sailor and nearly killed him. They beat his face into a pulp. It was horrible. The French saw all this, and a nice opinion they will have of the Russians.

A week before the Orel went to Saigon the captain of the Borodino ordered 4,000 eggs, hams, etc., for the crew. The crew in that ship will celebrate Easter like human beings. It will not be so in other ships.

My notebook is finished. This is the second. Can I obtain another? How much is written in these two books!—all the history of our breakages and repairs.

There is neither sight nor sound of the Japanese fleet. Will they let the third fleet join us without a fight? The Gortchakoff, Jupiter, Kieff, and Kitai went to Saigon. Cruisers escorted them. Perhaps these transports will bring us coal. There is some belonging to Russia, but will the French allow us to take it?

There are perpetual forest fires on shore. They are a beautiful sight by night. Europeans say that elephants, tigers, and panthers wander about the shore at night. The beasts feel that they are the owners. They even go up to the houses, out of which it is not safe to venture. The place is quite wild. The engineers who are making the cutting for the railway complain that the elephants cherish enmity against the telegraph-posts, and constantly tear them up. It is an interesting country, but not during such a cruise as ours.

I have not been ashore up to the present, and probably shall not go. How wearisome it all is to me! It sometimes seems that this life on board will never end. A complete apathy comes over me. Time is agonisingly long.

April 7th.—An inquiry began to-day about the sailor who attacked the officer in the Orel. If they look on the matter seriously, he will have to end his earthly existence.

There is a picture of the surrender of Port Arthur in the French papers. Their contempt for the Russians is growing.

They call us hares. There was one bright side in all this war—the defence of Port Arthur, and now that is besmirched.

The French cruiser is lying at Kamranh, and will remain here as long as our fleet does not leave. It looks as if she were guarding our ships from an attack by the Japanese.

Cursed war! One is ashamed to look a foreigner in the face.

Fifteen months, and not one victory! Rout after rout, and there is nothing but disgrace and humiliation.

There are several officers in the fleet who are preparing to import their wives to Vladivostok. How comparatively near that port lies! We have come a tremendous journey, and only a small bit remains. I wonder if we shall arrive there soon? We are now waiting for the third fleet, and the Japanese are preparing to meet us. No reports about them have reached us. We do not even know where their fleet is. No doubt they know our every movement. It is all horrible. It is annoying when one sees how we do not know how to make use of our strength.

April 8th.—Our auxiliary cruisers returning from escorting the transports to Saigon met a large French steamer. There were many Russians on board her. They were in uniform, and were evidently returning from captivity. They waved their caps and cheered our cruisers.

The French admiral came on board during lunch. The meal was interrupted while he was paying a visit, which was quite unexpected. Has he come in order to request us to go? Yes, it is so. France insists that we leave Kamranh. She is our ally, too. It is proposed that we go back 600 versts and there wait for the third fleet.

It is humiliating to go back and retreat from our final goal. If we were to wait for the third fleet, why did we leave Nosi Be? We only give the Japanese a better chance of preparing themselves. After all, it may happen that we shall go on without waiting. Time has been lost, and our strength has not been augmented. The strength of the Japanese will be concentrated in a smaller sphere of activity, and consequently will be more effective.

In what a horrible situation the second and third fleets are now placed! Where and how shall we effect a junction?

Had it not been for the third fleet, we might have been at Vladivostok a long time ago. What will the third fleet do?

By reckonings it has only passed Colombo. From Petersburg it was ordered to go by the straits of Sunda.

April 9th.—An officer has come from the French cruiser and brought a letter for the admiral. A signal has been made to get up anchor at noon to-morrow. It is still unknown where we are going—to Vladivostok, or to some other bay. I wonder if we shall be able to send letters to-morrow? There is little hope of that, but in any case I shall be ready.

South China Sea.—At one o'clock we weighed anchor and went to sea. The transports and the Almaz remained in the harbour, as they were coaling from German colliers. The fleet will remain near Kamranh till they are ready and can join us. Where we shall steer then is unknown. Of course, we might toss at sea waiting for the third fleet; but coal! coal! The coaling question is the question of life.

Two of our colliers are arrested. One at Singapore and the other at Saigon. (Saigon, too, is French! How this will please you!)

Our mails have been sent to the Tamboff, which, after giving the fleet her load, will go to Saigon. If she does not fall into the hands of the Japanese, the letters will go to Russia.

There is an officer in the fleet who was in the Cesarevitch on the 28th—that is, on the day on which Witgift[16] was killed, and when our ships fled so disgracefully wherever they could. From what he says it is evident that the morale in the ships was bad, and that they were all convinced that they would return to Port Arthur; that the Japanese suffered heavily, and if our ships had held out for half an hour more the enemy's fleet would have run. He related a good deal. Obviously, we might easily have been the victors. The pity was that the spirit of despair reigned. The Cesarevitch hardly suffered at all. Wirenius did much harm to the fleet.

All these disgraceful stories will come to light after the war is over. Many heroes will then be taken down from their pedestals.

If we only had had clever and daring leaders the Port Arthur fleet might easily have destroyed the Japanese. What a number of mistakes we made! How little we valued our strength.

When one recalls it all one cannot account for the fatal errors. We have to pay very dearly for them. What follies they have perpetrated on land! How many young lives have been lost! How much will all this cost Russia!

The weather is becoming better. The ships are going very slowly, keeping near Kamranh Bay with lights covered. As usual, I stayed a long while on the bridge. The rainy season will begin here soon, as well as typhoons. How will the smaller vessels, like torpedo-boats, get on?

April 10th.—After lunch I am going to the Tamboff; she is shortly going to Saigon. I shall post this letter by her. One of the staff-officers should have gone to the Tamboff, but they are nearly all lying ill. I myself feel well, thank God!

Yesterday the Oslyabya buried another sailor.

There was mass to-day. It is Palm Sunday. How time has flown! All night the ships remained at sea. The night passed quietly. The Isumrud fouled her screws with a chain. Divers were sent down.

A steamer flying the Norwegian flag passed by. She was examined, but nothing suspicious was found. She was coming from Japan, and not going there.

I took my last letter and gave it to the captain of the Tamboff. I handed him a franc for the stamp, but he was offended and would not take it. I tried to obtain cigarettes, but was unsuccessful. The wardroom wanted to buy vodky from her, but that too was a failure. The Norwegian steamer which we examined this morning gave us the latest papers. They are all English.

The discretion of the English press is extraordinary. They consider Japan their ally, so they purposely say nothing about her fleet. About ours they print all the news they in one way or another possess. It is not the English newspapers alone that act thus. To do them justice, the Japanese carefully conceal everything, and no one ever rightly knows how many ships they have lost. Not only ships, but up to the present no one knows how many troops Japan can place in the field. It was thought about 300,000, and already they have placed nearly a million men.

The foreign press (English and French) puts our losses from the beginning of the war at about 400,000 men. If that is the case, how many are left to Linievitch? A mere trifle, about 200,000. Could anything more disgraceful than this war be imagined?

April 11th.—From time to time merchant vessels pass near the fleet. Our cruisers and torpedo-boats go and examine them. A French steamer came quite close, and a man in her expressed a wish to hand something to the admiral in person. I know now that he only announced the date the third fleet passed Colombo, and said that nothing fresh had happened in Manchuria.

A journey of only twelve or fifteen days separates us from Vladivostok. There it is cold, and here it is hot. Many of us will catch colds.

The crew are dressed badly. They have no boots, and their clothes are worn out and ragged.

The Frenchman brought no news. We received newspapers. From these it is evident that there is a great discussion about Kamranh in France. They fear the Japanese are there.

The news can scarcely be correct that Admiral Nebogatoff's fleet (third fleet) has passed Colombo. Its course is elsewhere.

April 12th.—How people are deceived sometimes! It seemed to a good many in the Suvaroff yesterday that there was a steam cutter between her and the Alexander III. Instantly the fighting lanterns were uncovered, and the rays of the searchlight turned on to the suspicious place. They saw some white breakers and foam. Many are inclined to believe it was a submarine boat, disappearing under water when they began to light up. In confirmation of this supposition they point out that the Jemchug saw something like a periscope (a sort of tube which projects out of the water and allows objects that are above to be seen in the submerged boat).

Last evening I went to the upper deck cabin to breathe the fresh air, lay on the sofa, and went to sleep. At four o'clock I woke and went back to my cabin. I have learnt to make cigarettes fairly well. If paper and tobacco last, I can get on without ready-made ones.

They are beginning to say that in a day or two we shall leave Kamranh for another bay. To do this we shall have to take in coal and provisions, leaving the transports. The Tamboff apparently will not come with us. Letters will not be taken to Saigon.

A war vessel has been manoeuvring in sight of the fleet. Fearing that she is Japanese, the Oleg has been sent to make certain. It is a false alarm. She is probably the French cruiser DÉscartes. There is another steamer coming towards the fleet. The question of going to another bay is settled.

We are going to the bay of Van Fong, which is about one hundred versts north of Kamranh. It is probably a wild and deserted spot.

I am bored and anxious, and long to be home.

[15] A country house or bungalow.