CHAPTER XXVII.
KI SING.
Leaving Ben and his companion for a time, we go back to record anincident which will prove to have a bearing upon the fortunes ofthose in whom we are interested.
One morning two men, Taylor and O'Reilly, who had been outprospecting, came into camp, conveying between them, very much astwo policemen conduct a prisoner, a terrifled-looking Chinaman,whose eyes, rolling helplessly from one to the other, seemed toindicate that he considered his position a very perilous one.
At that early period in the settlement of California, a few Chinamenhad found their way to the Pacific coast; but the full tide ofimmigration did not set in till a considerable time later, and,therefore, the miners regarded one as a curiosity.
"Who have you got there, O'Reilly?" inquired one of hismining-comrades.
"A yeller haythen!" answered O'Eeilly. "Look at the craythur! Ain'the a beauty jist wid his long pigtail hangin' down his back like amonkey's tail?"
"Where did you find him?"
"He was huntin' for gold, the haythen, jist for all the world as ifhe was as white as you or I."
Mr. Patrick O'Reilly appeared to hold the opinion that gold-huntingshould be confined to the Caucasian race. He looked upon a Chinamanas rather a superior order of monkey, suitable for exhibition in acage, but not to be regarded as possessing the ordinary rights of anadopted American resident. If he could have looked forwardtwenty-five years, and foreseen the extent to which these barbarianswould throng the avenues of employment, he would, no doubt, havebeen equally amazed and disgusted. Indeed, the capture of Ki Singwas made through his influence, as Taylor, a man from Ohio, wasdisposed to let him alone.
Soon a crowd gathered around the terrified Chinaman and his captors,and he was plied with questions, some of a jocular character, by theminers, who were glad of anything that relieved the monotony oftheir ordinary life.
"What's your name?" asked one.
The Chinaman gazed at the questioner vacantly.
"What's your name, you haythen?" repeated O'Reilly, emphasizing theinquiry by a powerful shake.
"My name Ki Sing," answered the Mongolian nervously.
"Where did you come from, old pigtail?"
"My name Ki Sing, not Pigtail," said the Chinaman, not understandingthe meaning of the epithet.
This answer appeared to be regarded by the crowd as either witty orabsurd, for it elicited a roar of laughter.
"Never mind what your name is, old stick in the mud! We'll call youwhatever we please. Where do you come from?"
"Me come from 'Flisco."
It is well known that a Chinaman cannot pronounce the letter r,which in his mouth softens to l, in some cases producing a ludicrouseffect.
"What have you come here for, Cy King, or whatever your name is."
"My name Ki Sing."
"Well, it's a haythen name; anyhow," remarked Mr. Patrick O'Eeilly."Before I'd have such a name, I'd go widout one intirely. Did youhear the gintleman ask you what you came here for?"
"You bling me," answered Ki Sing shrewdly.
There was another laugh.
"That Chinee ain't no fool!" said Dick Roberts.
"What made you leave China?" he asked.
"Me come to Amelica fol gold."
"Hi, ho! That's it, is it? What are you going to do with your goldwhen you find it?"
"Cally it back to China."
"And when you've callied it back, what'll you do then?"
"Me mally wife, have good time and plenty money to buy lice."
Of course, Ki Sing's meaning was plain, but there was a roar oflaughter, to which he listened with mild-eyed wonder, evidentlythinking that the miners who so looked down on him were themselves aset of outside barbarians, to whom the superior civilization ofChina was utterly unknown. It is fortunate that his presumption wasnot suspected by those around him. No one would have resented itmore than Mr. Patrick O'Reilly, whose rank as regards enlightenmentand education certainly was not very high.
"I say, John," said Dick Roberts, "are you fond of rat pie?"
"Lat pie velly good," returned Ki Sing, with a look of appreciation."Melican man like him?"
"Hear the haythen!" said O'Reilly, with an expression of deepdisgust. "He thinks we ate rats and mice, like him. No, old pigtail,we ain't cats. We are good Christians."
"Chlistian! Ma don't know Ghlistian," said the Chinaman.
"Then look at O'Reilly," said Dick Roberts, mischievously. "He's agood solid Christian."
Ki Sing turned his almond eyes upon O'Reilly, who, with his freckledface, wide mouth, broad nose, and stubby beard, was by no means aprepossessing-looking man, and said interrogatively: "He Chlistian?"
"Yes, John. Wouldn't you like to be one?"
Ki Sing shook his head decidedly.
"Me no want to be Chlistian," he answered. "Me velly well now. Mewant to be good Chinaman."
"There's a compliment for you, O'Reilly," said one of the miners."John prefers to be a Chinaman to being like you."
"He's a barbarious haythen, anyhow," said O'Reilly, surveying hisprisoner with unfriendly eyes. "What did he come over to Americafor, anyhow?"
"He probably came over for the same reason that brought you,O'Reilly," said a young man, who spoke for the first time, though hehad been from the outset a disgusted witness of what had takenplace.
"And what's that?" demanded O'Reilly angrily.
"To make a living," answered Richard Dewey quietly.
As this is the first time this young man has been introduced, wewill briefly describe him. He was of medium size, well knit andvigorous, with a broad forehead, blue eyes, and an intelligent andwinning countenance. He might have been suspected of too greatamiability and gentleness, but for a firm expression about themouth, and an indefinable air of manliness, which indicated that itwould not do to go too far with him. There was a point, as all hisfriends knew, where his forbearance gave way and he sternly assertedhis rights. He was not so popular in camp as some, because hedeclined to drink or gamble, and, despite the rough circumstances inwhich he found himself placed, was resolved to preserve hisself-respect.
O'Reilly did not fancy his interference, and demanded, in a surlytone:
"Do you mean to compare me wid this haythen?"
"You are alike in one respect," said Richard Dewey quietly. "Neitherof you were born in this country, but each of you came here toimprove your fortunes."
"And hadn't I the right, I'd like to know?" blustered O'Reilly.
"To be sure you had. This country is free to all who wish to make ahome here."
"Then what are you talkin' about, anyway?"
"You ought to be able to understand without asking. Ki Sing has comehere, and has the same right that you have."
"Do you mane to put me on a livel wid him?"
"In that one respect, I do."
"I want you to understand that Patrick O'Reilly won't take noinsults from you, nor any other man!"
"Hush, O'Reilly!" said Terence O'Gorman, another Irish miner. "Deweyis perfectly right. I came over from Ireland like you, but he hasn'tsaid anything against either of us."
"That is where you are right, O'Gorman," said Richard Deweycordially. "You are a man of sense, and can understand me. My ownfather emigrated from England, and I am not likely to say anythingagainst the class to which he belonged. Now, boys, you have hadenough sport out of the poor Chinaman. I advise you to let him go."
Ki Sing grasped at this suggestion.
"Melican man speak velly good," he said.
"Of course, you think so," sneered O'Reilly. "I say, boys, let's cutoff his pigtail," touching the poor Chinaman's queue.
Ki Sing uttered a cry of dismay as O'Reilly's suggestion was greetedwith favorable shouts by the thoughtless crowd.