Read Held by Chinese Brigands Page 10


  CHAPTER X--HOW FRANK WAS IN LUCK'S WAY

  Frank found the village without any difficulty. Although it was thenalmost midnight, there were lights in the majority of houses, andseveral shops were open. The Chinese are a singular race. One of thefirst things that strikes a visitor to that remarkable country is thefact that the inhabitants never appear to go to bed. No people in theworld work harder by day, and no people in the world are more inclinedto talk, laugh, quarrel and gamble throughout the night, into the smallhours of the morning.

  Frank marched boldly into a barber's shop, where he expressed a desireto have the forepart of his head shaven. The barber could scarcecontain his astonishment when he observed that his patron had nopigtail. He was vastly curious with regard to the matter, askingseveral questions as he sharpened his big Chinese razor--which wassomething after the shape and about the size of the business-end of aDutch hoe. Frank informed the man that he had been robbed, and no doubtthe fellow presumed that the robbers had cut off their victim's queue.

  The boy rightly supposed that he could talk quite frankly about his ownaffairs in a village which was populated almost exclusively by honestmen who worked in the tea-gardens. But what most surprised him, and atthe same time afforded him the greatest possible satisfaction, was thatno one in the barber's shop appeared to notice the fact that he was aEuropean.

  Now a Chinaman can suffer no greater disgrace than the loss of hispigtail. Viewed historically, this is a strange circumstance. Themediaeval Chinese did not wear pigtails. It was the Manchu race, whoconquered the Chinese in the fifteenth century, who grew their hair longand plaited it in the well-known manner. The Manchus were horsemen ofwhom it might be said that they almost worshipped their horses, and thequeue was originally grown in imitation of a horse's tail. For the samereason the Manchu warriors adopted those wide coat-sleeves, which evento this day are called "horseshoe sleeves." It was mainly by means oftheir excellent cavalry that the Tartar warriors were able to overcomethe Chinese foot-soldiers.

  A conquering race invariably enforces certain obligations andrestrictions upon the vanquished, and one of the first Manchurianimperial edicts issued was to the effect that all Chinese should adoptthe pigtail as a symbol of their submission to the dominant people. Inthe course of a few centuries what was originally a token of defeatbecame a source of national prejudice and pride. The Chinaman of thenineteenth century was as loth to part with his pigtail as hisforefather had been to adopt it.

  The barber sympathised with Frank. Moreover, his sympathy took apractical turn. He undertook for a few copper cash to supply the boywith a new pigtail, and also to attach it to his head in such a manneras would make it appear to be natural. All this, however, took time,and it was past one o'clock in the morning when Frank Armitage left thevillage and continued on his way, downhill, through tea-gardens and thericefields, following the narrow path which, he had been told, wouldconduct him to the river.

  What the name of the river was he had not been able to ascertain.Everybody he asked told him a different name. That is usually the casein China. One man will say a village is called the Village of the Wufamily; another will say it is the Village of the Chin family; and athird will be equally certain that it is called One-Tree Village. Andwhen you get there, you will find it is called Bad-Weather Village, orthe Village of Starving Dogs. Knowing this, Frank did not botherhimself about the name of the river. Provided he came to it, he wouldbe satisfied, since the water of that river must eventually find its wayinto the main stream which flowed past Wu-chau to Canton, and thence tothe great estuary, at the mouth of which was the island of Hong-Kong.

  He reached the river at about midday. By then the heat in the valleywas excessive, and the boy thoroughly exhausted. He had been travellingday and night for several days. With the exception of the almost regalbanquet he had enjoyed at the house of the tea-grower, he had hadinsufficient nourishment. There had been few nights when he had hadmore than three or four hours' sleep. He felt quite unable to progressfarther on foot.

  He therefore hailed a fisherman whom he observed approaching down thestream in a small _sampan_, or river-boat. The man--so soon as heunderstood that a bargain was afoot--drew in to the bank and undertookfor an exceedingly small sum of money to take Frank down-stream to acertain large town to which he himself was going. Frank got into theboat, and lying down beneath the matted awning that sheltered the sternpart from the fierce rays of the sun, he was soon fast asleep. Whilsthe slept, he covered several miles of his journey. The fisherman hadhoisted a sail, and the wind being from the north, and the strength ofthe current great, the boat travelled at a considerable velocity.

  When the boy awoke, refreshed from his sleep, he found to his surprisethat the sun had set. Darkness was spreading rapidly, and a thick whitemist clung to the river-valley. The atmosphere, however, wasexceedingly close and humid, and the air was alive with myriads ofmosquitoes and gnats.

  Frank asked the fisherman where they were, and the man replied, withOriental vagueness:

  "We come soon to Kwang-Chin," said he. "That is the end of my journey!"

  "And where is Kwang-Chin?" asked Frank.

  "Very nice town," replied the man, evading the question. "Plentycooked-dog shops. Little Kwang-Chin dogs are very good to eat, betterthan little Canton dogs."

  Frank knew the uselessness of trying to get anything definite out of thefisherman. He therefore lay back in a comfortable attitude, and gavehimself up to thoughts of the perilous situation in which he had left MrWaldron and his uncle.

  He wondered how far Men-Ching had progressed upon his journey to thecoast. So far as he could guess, the rascal should be already inCanton. At the same time, though he did not know where the town ofKwang-Chin was, he believed that he himself could not be far from thegreat capital of Southern China. Canton was but a few hours by riversteamboat from Hong-Kong. The boy had therefore completed the greaterpart of his journey.

  They arrived at Kwang-Chin in the small hours of the morning, and Frankcould not persuade the fisherman to take him any farther. He wastherefore obliged to go ashore and attempt to find a lodging for whatremained of the night.

  This was no easy matter, for the town appeared to consist of nothing butopium dens. It was an old walled city, the ramparts and gateways ofwhich must have been built centuries before, in the days when China washarassed and ravaged by continual internecine wars. Frank, who did notfeel capable of travelling farther that night, decided to wait tillmorning, when he might be able to find another fisherman who wouldconsent to take him down-stream, probably as far as the main river, ifnot to Canton itself. In the meantime, he realised that he could donothing better than snatch a few hours' additional rest, recognising thefact that he would still be called upon to undergo considerablehardships and dangers.

  He therefore plucked up courage, and entered the first opium den he cameto, in the doorway of which he had observed a light. He found himselfin an establishment similar in all respects to that which has alreadybeen described as nourishing in the slums of Canton under theproprietorship of Ah Wu. This place, however, was very much dirtier,and--with the exception of Cheong-Chau's brigands--Frank had never seena more villainous collection of men than the habitues of the place, whowere sprawled in all manner of attitudes upon the various couches. Andthen he was astounded, and at the same time considerably alarmed, toobserve that several of these coolies were wearing scarlet coats,similar in all respects to those worn by the bandits. But, once inside,he could not very well beat a hasty retreat. He summoned to his aid allhis presence of mind and addressed himself to the proprietor, avenerable-looking man with gold-rimmed spectacles and a whitegoat's-beard.

  "I desire, for a few hours," said the boy, speaking in his bestidiomatic Cantonese, "a couch upon which to sleep. I am a poor man," headded, "but I will pay you to the best of my ability."

  "You will not smoke opium?" asked the host, opening his eyes insurprise.

  "I have not t
he habit," said Frank.

  The proprietor adjusted his spectacles upon the very tip of his nose andregarded the boy from over the top of the glasses.

  "How very remarkable!" he observed. "Every man, however, can pleasehimself. You may certainly sleep here. My charge is forty _cash_."

  Now forty cash is the equivalent of two-pence, and this does not appearto the European mind to be an exorbitant charge for a night's lodging.But Frank Armitage knew the Chinese character. He had a part to act,and he knew how to act it. He remembered that a Chinaman loves abargain.

  "I will give you thirty cash," said he.

  The old man pointed to the couch. "It is an excellent bed," said he."The hangings are of silk, and I guarantee that the mattress is freefrom vermin. I will let you have it for thirty-eight cash."

  "I offer you thirty-two," said Frank. "Remember, I require it for a fewhours only."

  "In that case," said the landlord, "we will say thirty-six."

  "I will give you thirty-four."

  "Good!" cried the landlord. "We will call it thirty-five and have donewith the matter."

  Thereupon Frank counted out thirty-five of the little copper coins whichthe tea-grower had given him and which he carried upon a string slungaround his neck like a necklace. Indeed each _cash_ has a little squarehole in the middle of it for this purpose.

  Having settled his account, the boy took off his coat, for the heat ofthe room was intense and the atmosphere foul with the mingled odour ofparaffin oil, opium smoke and Chinese garlic He arranged the pillow,then stretched himself at full length upon the couch. A group of threeor four men at the other end of the room were talking loudly, and it wasthe constant sound of their voices that made it difficult for the boy tofall asleep.

  He was dozing off, and in that blissful state which lies midway betweenslumber and consciousness, when he was startled by a remark that came tohis ears very distinctly from the other end of the room.

  "They tell me that Cheong-Chau has returned to the mountains."

  The answer was a chuckle.

  "Cheong-Chau is never idle," came the reply. "Rumour has it that thereare fine fish in his net. Do you know that Men-Ching passed throughhere late yesterday afternoon?"

  "Indeed! And where was he going?"

  "He did not say."

  "Some secret business," said the other. "Men-Ching is no more than thecoolie of Cheong-Chau. He does all the dirty work. He runs theerrands."

  It was here that the voice of a third man joined in the conversation.

  "I know where Men-Ching was going," said he. "I made it my business tofind out. He goes to Canton to the opium den of Ah Wu, which lies nearthe Mohammedan Mosque. He did not leave this place till nearly teno'clock to-night, after having smoked several pipes of opium. He is agreat smoker, Men-Ching. He went down the river on a _wupan_ that wastaking a cargo of rice to Canton. The _wupan_ calls at Sanshui, to takeon board certain chests of tea."

  The man who had spoken first laughed loudly.

  "You know everything, Hsien-Lu," said he. "You are always prying intoother people's affairs. For myself, though I wear the scarlet coat, Ithink it well to give Cheong-Chau as wide a berth as possible. He willhave his head cut off some day. That is beyond all doubt. And on thatoccasion I should prefer not to accompany him. And now, good-night. Idesire to sleep. The opium has made me drowsy."

  After that there was silence. Frank gave them about ten minutes inwhich to prepare themselves for slumber. Then he got up from his couch,put on his coat and, unobserved, left the opium den.

  Outside he took in a deep breath of the fresh night air, then hurried inthe direction of the river. He realised that fortune had played in aremarkable manner into his hands. Men-Ching was but a few hours infront of him. He intended, if possible, to overtake the man and possesshimself of the letters. He might be able to do this by stealth if hecould not succeed by force. He could, at any rate, make sure that theletters reached their destination, since the lives of both his uncle andMr Waldron depended upon their delivery into the hands of the Governorof Hong-Kong.