The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

"I say, Jo Lee," called out a husky voice from this new feature of the giant image, "I think it was a mean trick to go off and leave me shut up in that beastly place. I mighty near smothered in there, and I don't suppose I ever would have got out if an earthquake or something hadn't happened. It almost shook down the whole house, and it knocked the roof off as it was, nearly burying me in falling plaster besides."

"It isn't a house," explained Jo, laughing hysterically in spite of his habitual Chinese self-control. "It's the image of a god. Don't you remember crawling into it last night? I don't know how its head happened to tumble off, but I expect you did it yourself. And now you have managed to give it a new one, a hundred times more useful but not half so good looking. I never in all my life saw anything so funny, and if you only could see yourself, you'd laugh, too."

"Maybe I would," replied Rob, with a tone of injured dignity; "but if you were as battered and choked as I am, you wouldn't laugh – I know that much. Of course, I remember now all about this thing being a god, only I was so confused when I woke up that I forgot all about where I was. I only knew that there had been an explosion of some kind, and that I should smother if I didn't get out. I could see a little light up above and tried to climb to it by some ropes that I found dangling. Two of them gave way slowly, while a third was so rotten that it gave way mighty sudden. Then came the earthquake and an avalanche of mud that nearly buried me; but I managed somehow to climb on top of it, and here I am. Now I want to get down and out, for I don't like the place."

"All right. Drop down inside, and I will open the door."

Accepting this advice, Rob withdrew the head that had looked so absurdly small on top of that great image, and in another minute slid out of the open doorway far below, in company with a quantity of débris.

"Whew!" he gasped. "That was a sure enough dust-bath. Now let us get outside and into an atmosphere that isn't quite so thick with mud."

"Wouldn't you rather remain in here and live than go out and meet a certain death?" asked Jo, quietly.

"Of course; but, even so, we can't always stay shut up in this old rat-trap."

"No, but it will be safer to leave at night, and also we have much to do before we shall be ready."

"Have we?" asked Rob. "What, for instance?"

"It is my plan that you should travel as a priest under a vow of silence, until we reach Hankow, while I go as your servant. If it is agreed, then must your head be shaved in priestly fashion, your skin must be stained a darker color, and we must obtain garments suitable."

"That's all right, so far as the priest business is concerned, if you think I can act the character; but you are way off when you talk about going to Hankow, for I am not bound in that direction. You see, I have just come from there and am on my way to Pekin."

"But the road to Pekin is filled with danger."

"So is the road to Hankow. I ought to know, for I have come over it, and I am certain, from the posters I saw displayed in every town, that Ho-nan is a Boxer province by this time. Besides, Hankow is twice as far away as Pekin."

"It is reported that all foreigners in Pekin have been killed."

"Including members of the legations?"

"So it is said."

"Well, then, the report can't be true. In the first place, the foreign ministers would have called in troops of their own countries for protection upon the first intimation of danger. In the second place, to kill a foreign minister is to declare war against that minister's country; and I don't believe that even the Chinese government is so foolish as to declare war against the whole world. At the same time, if there is to be any fighting I want to be where I can see it, or at least know about it, which is another reason for going to Pekin. Besides, I must go there, for it is in Pekin that I am to get news of my mother and father. Only think, I don't even know for certain if they are alive. If you didn't know that about your family, wouldn't you want to go where you could find out?"

Jo admitted that he would.

"By-the-way," continued Rob, "speaking of families, I thought you had a wife. Where is she? Are you going to take her with us to Pekin? Wasn't she awfully glad to see you when you got back from America?"

For the second time that day the young Chinese laughed. "Yes," he replied, "I have a wife. I think she is in Canton, for that is where my father left her when he came north. No, I am not going to take her to Pekin. No, she was not glad to see me when I came back from America, for she has not yet seen me."

"If I had only known your wife was in Canton, and where to find her, I should have called," said Rob, soberly.

The idea thus presented was so absurd that Jo laughed again as at a good joke, for in China no man ever calls on the wife of another.

CHAPTER XX

ROB MAKES A STARTLING DISCOVERY

Finding Rob determined to go to Pekin, Jo yielded, though with many misgivings, and at once began preparations for their dangerous journey. Thanks to the general terror inspired by the fall of the rain-god's head, the lads were secure from interruption so long as they remained in the temple. Having thought over his plan the evening before, Jo had brought with him from the city a number of things necessary to carrying it out. Among them were shears and a razor, with which he removed every trace of hair from Rob's head, after the fashion of the lamas or priests of Buddha. Then his whole body, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, was tinted yellow with a dye that would have to wear off, since it never could be washed away. He was further disguised in priestly robes of yellow, and, worst of all, was finally obliged to give up his cherished boots in favor of sandals, which of all forms of foot-wear he most despised. For head-covering he was given a priest's huge straw hat, as large as a small umbrella.

As neither of the lads was sufficiently expert in "making up" features to change Rob's wide-open eyes into oblique slits, he submitted to the wearing of big, round, shell-rimmed, smoked-glass spectacles, found among the temple properties. Another thing there obtained was an inscribed iron tablet that had hung upon the breast of the rain-god, and to carry this to Pekin was to be the ostensible reason for their journey in that direction. Also the silence with which Rob was to conceal his ignorance of the northern dialect was to be explained as being imposed by a vow not to speak a word, even in prayer, until he had safely deposited that holy tablet in the great Pekin temple of the rain-god. The only bit of property formerly belonging to him that he was allowed to retain was his revolver, which, together with a belt full of cartridges, was concealed beneath his robe.

As their changed plan was to carry them in the very direction Jo had announced his intention of taking before leaving the city, he decided to maintain his character as an officer of imperial troops, escorting the priest, rather than to assume that of a servant, as he at first had proposed. Thus he would be able to ride horseback, carry weapons in plain sight, and disburse money for many comforts that a priest's servant could not obtain.

With these preparations completed, our lads waited impatiently for darkness, and no sooner had it descended than they set forth, exercising great caution in leaving the temple grove, but after that travelling as briskly as Jo could walk. The latter insisted that Rob, being unused to sandals, should ride his pony, while he proceeded on foot until they could beg, borrow, steal, or buy another.

They had gone but a few li, or Chinese miles, each of which equals about one-third of an English mile, when they heard the steady beat of a horse's hoofs, accompanied by a grinding noise as of machinery. After listening until he located the sound as coming from a field at one side of the road, Jo crept softly in that direction. He quickly discovered a horse, attached to a long, wooden beam, travelling in a monotonous circle, and thus lifting an endless chain of earthen jars full of water from a deep well. Each, as it came to the surface, emptied itself into an irrigating ditch, and then went down to be refilled. All this was simple enough, and did not particularly interest Jo, for he had seen hundreds of just such irrigating plants in operation all over the great plain. Heretofore, however, a prominent feature of the outfit had been the man or boy who, armed with a bamboo whip, had kept the horse awake and at work; but here no human figure was to be distinguished. At the same time, there was a sound of blows, delivered at regular intervals, each of which inspired the horse to fresh exertion. Finally, becoming convinced that, in spite of the blows, there was no person in the vicinity, Jo went closer to determine their origin. At the machine he found working a scheme so practical, simple, and ingenious as to arouse his admiration – a section of stiff but springy bamboo, and a stout cord fixed on the beam to which the horse was attached. That was all. Three revolutions of the beam wound up the cord and sprung back the bamboo. At the beginning of the fourth revolution the cord suddenly was slackened, and the liberated bamboo struck the horse a blow across the hind quarters. Nor did these blows always descend at the same point of the circle or at regular intervals, since their frequency depended upon the speed of the horse, who, being blindfolded, was thus made to believe that he was at the mercy of some constantly alert though invisible person.

So impressed was Jo with the ingenuity of this contrivance that he went back to persuade Rob to come and see it. The latter did so, though somewhat unwillingly, not caring to waste time over Chinese inventions just then; but when he had approached close enough to the horse to discern its markings, he exclaimed: "Hello! That's my pony! The very one I was riding yesterday when the rain-dancers got after me. And here he is, being made to work all night by an infernal machine. I never heard of anything so disgusting. Here! whoa, you beast! You have done the tread-mill act long enough, and now we'll put you to a better service."

Thus it happened that the very ingenuity of this inventor of perpetual motion, by which he gained a few hours of sleep, also caused him a heavy loss; for, had he been on hand, Jo would have bought the horse from him at his own price, while Rob would not have appeared on the scene at all.

As no saddle could be found near the tread-mill, Jo was forced to ride bareback until they reached a town where one could be purchased. At this same town they slept a few hours, during which their horses also rested and were liberally fed on beans and chopped bamboo grass. Our young travellers were again on the road by sunrise, and after this they pushed ahead with all speed for the greater part of a week, riding early and late, but taking long rests in the middle of each day.

Although as a priest and an officer of imperial troops they were suffered to pass, without delay, many points at which any other class of travellers would have been detained for rigorous examination, they met with ever-increasing evidences of trouble as they advanced northward. Everywhere they came across dead bodies, ruined buildings, and occasionally whole villages swept by fire. Everywhere people gazed on them with suspicion or fled at their coming. They heard of the great Boxer army gathering near Pekin, and encountered numerous small bodies of armed men hastening to swell its ranks. Also they came into constant contact with prowling bands of starving peasantry. Several times, in order to escape from the latter, our lads joined themselves to one or another of the Boxer companies, and remained with it until the immediate danger was passed. Then, on the plea of urgent haste, they would push ahead.

Finally, when thus travelling with a company who would have hacked them to bits had they discovered their identity, they crossed the Hu-Tho-ho (the river that goes where it pleases) and approached the walled city of Cheng-Ting-Fu. In this city stands a Roman Catholic cathedral, built of stone, and having a massive square tower that looms like a great fortress above the low roofs of the surrounding temples and native dwellings.

In this stronghold were many foreign refugees, priests, nuns, and Belgian engineers who had been engaged on the railway running south from Pekin; also several American missionaries who, wounded and plundered of everything, had gained this asylum barely in time to save their lives.

For more than a month the great gate of Cheng-Ting-Fu had been kept closed to all companies of friends and foes alike, only a little wicket being occasionally opened for the passage in or out of one or two persons at a time. In addition to this precaution, which was taken by the Chinese authorities of the city, the foreign refugees inside the cathedral were compelled to remain hidden behind its stout doors for fear lest their appearance on the streets should excite the local population to acts of violence. On the sandy plain beyond the city wall was a large and ever-changing encampment of Boxers thirsting for foreign blood, undisciplined soldiers, highwaymen, and outlaws of every description.

Upon reaching Cheng-Ting-Fu our lads, wearied by a day of continuous riding, felt that they could go no farther that night. In fact, there was no place for them to go to nearer than the city of Pao-Ting-Fu, a long day's journey away, so bare had this section of country been swept of inhabitants. At the same time, they regarded with dismay the prospect of spending a night amid the horrors and dangers of the lawless outside camp, where robbery and murder were committed unchecked and unpunished at all hours of day and night.

"We must try to get inside the wall," said Jo, in a low tone, "for if we stay out here it is pretty certain that neither of us will live to see another sunrise."

With this they turned their jaded ponies towards the city gate and rode to it, followed at a short distance by a small crowd of pig-tailed cut-throats, who only awaited a favorable opportunity for making a rush upon them. So desperately hungry were these wretches that they joyfully would have killed even a priest and an imperial officer for sake of the meagre food-supply represented by the animals they rode.

At the gate Jo's demand for admittance was at first received with stout refusal by a guard who gazed carelessly at the travellers from behind a small, heavily barred opening. Fortunately, Jo still had money with him, and a handful of silver, temptingly displayed, finally unclosed the coveted entrance. As the wicket opened, the starving rabble, seeing their prey about to escape them, made their threatened rush; but Jo, leaping to the ground and calling on Rob to get the horses through the gate, held them at bay with his revolver. Only one minute was necessary, for the ponies, as though aware of their danger, scrambled through the narrow wicket like cats. Rob followed close at their heels; Jo, firing one shot over the heads of the crowd for effect, sprang after him, and the gate was slammed shut, not again to be opened that night.

Even now the officer of the guard, who had yielded to a silver influence, dared not give the strangers the freedom of the city; but, under threat of again being thrust outside, compelled their promise to spend the night in a temple to which he would conduct them, without attempting to leave it before morning. Also, they must not hold communication with a soul outside the temple walls, and they must depart from the city at sunrise.

When Jo had given this promise in words, and Rob had assented to it by nodding his priestly head, they were conducted to the temple selected as their lodging under an escort of soldiers detailed to act as their guard during the night. On their way the travellers, thus cautiously welcomed, gazed curiously about them at the sights of the beleaguered city, and especially at the grim walls of the great cathedral uplifted above its houses. Especially was Rob affected by this ecclesiastical fortress, which at that very moment was giving safe shelter to persons of his own race.

As they passed it he stared hard at a row of narrow windows, with the hope of seeing an American face, but none presented itself until the last window was reached. In it was dimly outlined the form of a woman who turned upon the passers-by a face expressive of hopeless weariness. She gave them one listless glance and then stepped from sight, but that fleeting view caused Rob Hinckley to utter a choking exclamation and to reel in his saddle until only a supreme effort saved him from falling. He had seen his mother.

CHAPTER XXI

THE REFUGEES OF CHENG-TING-FU

The malady with which Dr. Mason Hinckley had lain critically ill at Wu-Hsing was of so strange a nature that, directly after the cablegram calling Rob to his supposed death-bed was sent, it took a surprising turn for the better. As he longed for a change of air and scene, and felt that with them a full recovery of health might be effected, he decided to resign his position at Wu-Hsing and, with his wife, travel as far as Nagasaki. There they would meet the steamer on which, as they had been notified by cable from America, Rob was coming to them, and the reunited family would spend together a delightful holiday on the lovely Japanese coast.

So they set forth full of hopeful anticipations, and travelled down the Si-Kiang to Hong-Kong, where they were so fortunate as to find the China on the point of sailing for San Francisco by way of Nagasaki. At Hong-Kong they told an acquaintance who assisted the invalid to a carriage that they were going to Japan to meet an American steamer; but in the confusion of the moment he understood them to say that they were going to America, and so reported to Mr. Bishop, who, in turn, repeated the story to Rob a few weeks later.

In the mean time, the doctor and his wife journeyed to Nagasaki, the former so gaining strength with every mile of the voyage that upon reaching Japan he deemed himself to be practically a well man. Thus they were prepared to give Rob a most joyful surprise; but when, only three days after their own arrival, the Occidental steamed into Nagasaki harbor, they were met by the bitter disappointment of finding that their boy was not on board. From the purser, as well as from the gentleman who had taken Rob's cabin, they learned that somehow he had missed connection and had been left behind. After that the anxious parents waited in Nagasaki a month, boarding every incoming ship from the States, but without finding their boy or hearing a word from him. They had written to Hatton immediately upon their arrival, and finally from there came the cable message, "Rob, transport, Manila."

What could it mean? Why had their boy gone to Manila? Where would he go from there? Where was he now? How in the world did he happen to be on board a transport? Had he enlisted in the army? These and a thousand other equally puzzling questions presented themselves, but no one of them was accompanied by an answer. They had received news of the murder of missionaries at Wu-Hsing. Could Rob have reached there in time to become involved in the trouble? If so, was he alive or dead? They no longer could remain in Japan, but must return to China where news might more readily be obtained. So they sailed for Shanghai, from which place they sent letters of inquiry to Manila, Wu-Hsing, Hong-Kong, and Canton.

Then ensued another month of anxious waiting, during which Dr. Hinckley, now restored to perfect health, received from Pekin a fine offer to become missionary medical director for the province of Shan-Si. It was an offer that he gladly would have accepted but for his uncertainty concerning Rob.

At length came a letter from Canton informing the anxious parents that their boy had been there a month earlier, but almost immediately had joined an expedition that was to traverse the interior from that point to Pekin in the interests of an American railway syndicate.

Again did the puzzled parents ask each other questions concerning the erratic movements of their son that neither could answer. Finally, Dr. Hinckley said:

"It is useless to worry ourselves any more about the boy, since it is evident that he has passed entirely beyond our reach. He is in God's hands, and that there is some good reason for the apparent strangeness of his actions will sooner or later be made plain. Let us be thankful that he is alive and in the same country as ourselves. Also, we now can accept that offer from Pekin, where, as it seems, we are most likely to meet him."

So the bewildered but still hopeful parents took steamer from Shanghai to Tien-Tsin and rail from there to China's capital, at that time a wonderland of mystery to the greater part of the outside world. From Pekin they travelled south to Cheng-Ting-Fu, which then was the extreme terminus of railway construction, and here Dr. Hinckley left his wife, while he should go on by horseback to Tai-Yuan, the capital of Shan-Si, and prepare their new home.

Then, almost without warning, came the terrible Boxer uprising, sweeping over the northern provinces with the fatal speed of a storm-driven prairie-fire. From every direction were heard reports of murder and outrage – some of them simple relations of actual happenings, others gross exaggerations based upon fact, and still others pure inventions, but all equally terrifying to the handful of foreigners within the walls of Cheng-Ting-Fu. A little later refugees, bearing evidence of the terrible sufferings through which they had passed, began to straggle in. Some told of the beheadings and burnings to death in Pao-Ting-Fu on the north, and others of the frightful tragedies enacted in Shan-Si on the west, by orders of the infamous governor, Yu-Hsien, credited with being the originator of the Great Sword Society, and who was the most vindictive hater of foreigners in all China. The Shan-Si refugees reported that one day in Tai-Yuan this monster personally superintended the beheading of forty-five foreigners, men, women, and little children, besides a much larger number of native Christians; and on hearing this, Mrs. Hinckley lost all hope of ever again seeing the husband who had gone to prepare a home for her in that very city. Also, she mourned for her boy, who, if he had carried out his reported intention of traversing the interior provinces to Pekin, must have been overtaken by this same all-devouring storm of wrath.

Although the southern end of the railway as far as Pao-Ting-Fu was kept open by the Chinese for the transportation of their own troops, it was reported that everything north of that point, including the telegraph-line, had been destroyed. Thus Cheng-Ting-Fu, with closed gate and surrounded by enemies, was cut off from all news of the outside world. Only rumors drifted in, and these were of such a nature that the handful of refugees facing an almost certain death in the cathedral believed themselves to be the only foreigners left alive in northern China.

Such was the state of affairs on that evening of early summer when Mrs. Hinckley, hopelessly weary of life, happened to glance from one of the cathedral windows just as a yellow-robed priest was passing along the narrow street. She turned quickly away, for, of all Chinese, the priests had been most active in persecuting foreigners, and she never saw one without thinking that he might be the murderer of either her husband or son.

An hour later the "boy" who brought in her light supper of tea and toast laid something else on the tray beside it, and disappeared without having spoken. For a minute Mrs. Hinckley did not notice the strange object, but finally it caught her eye, and she picked it up. It was a narrow strip about six inches long, cut from the dried leaf of a talipot palm, the material used instead of writing-paper in certain Buddhist temples. Characters traced on the smooth surface with a sharp stylus, afterwards are rubbed with lampblack, which brings them out in bold relief. In the present case, to Mrs. Hinckley's amazement, she found the strip of palm-leaf to be a letter written in English, and beginning, "My own dear mother!"

The poor woman uttered a stifled cry, and a blur so dimmed her eyes that for a moment she could read no more. Then it passed, and she eagerly scanned the following message, written on both sides of the slip: