There was a Japanese captain, Michiari, who had long hoped for the invasion. He had prayed often to the gods that he might have opportunity to fight the Mongols. He had written his prayers on paper, and, burning them, had solemnly swallowed the ashes. He was now overjoyed at the prospect of a combat. Sallying out from behind the breastwork, he defied the enemy to fight.
Shortly after, the filled two boats with brave fellows and pushed out, apparently unarmed, to the fleet. “He is mad,” cried the spectators on the shore. “How bold,” said the man on the fleet, “for two little boats to attack a thousand great ships! Surely he is coming to surrender himself.” Supposing this to be his object, they refrained from shooting.
When within a few oars lengths, the Japanese flinging out ropes with grappling-hooks, leaped on the Tartar junk. The bows and spears of the latter were no match for the two-handled razor-like swords of the Japanese. The issue, though for a while doubtful, was a swift and complete victory for the men who were fighting for their native land. Burning the junk, the surviving victors left before the surrounding ships could cut them off. Among the captured was one of the highest officers in the Mongol fleet.
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From General Nelson A. Miles
Thrilling Stories of The Russian-Japanese War, 1904