The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

"I put it that way," explained the latter, "because the Tacoma agent knows me, while he doesn't know Robert Hinckley; and, as we are going on together to-morrow, it won't make any difference which of us receives the bag."

A third despatch was sent to the Tacoma agent of the steamship company, notifying him that unforeseen circumstances prevented Mr. Robert Hinckley from sailing on the Oriental, requesting him to hold over a trunk marked Hinckley and bearing Nagasaki check 907, and asking him to meet the following day's Coast Limited at the Tacoma station, with money to refund the price of the forfeited ticket.

"I don't know whether or not he will do that," said Captain Astley; "but perhaps he will, seeing that he is pretty well acquainted with me. At any rate, it is worth trying for. You may send the replies to these messages up to the X Hotel," he added, turning to the operator.

"But I am not staying at the X Hotel," objected Rob, remembering how very elegant and expensive that establishment had looked when he passed it a half-hour before. "I can't afford it."

"Not as my guest?" asked the army man.

"I don't see how you can think of doing so much for me," blurted out Rob. "I never heard of any one being so kind to a perfect stranger."

"My dear lad, I once was a boy myself, and continually getting into scrapes, from which kind people, as often as not entire strangers, helped me out. So you see I now am only repaying a small portion of the debt I owe to those who were good to me. Besides, I am fond of boys, especially of boys who behave themselves as gentlemen, and am delighted at the prospect of having one as a travelling companion, even for a short time. So don't you fret any more over the incurring of obligations; also, never hesitate to accept whatever good thing is offered you in this life, for the bad you'll have to accept, whether or no."

"All right, sir," replied Rob, smiling happily, as he now could well afford to do. "I will gratefully accept all the kindness you offer, and pass it along to some other fellow, whenever I find one in a trouble out of which I can help him."

"Good!" laughed the captain. "And now that we understand each other, let's go up to the hotel for breakfast."

Owing to the efforts of this Heaven-sent friend, Rob's troubles, that had seemed so overwhelming, melted away like frost before the warm breath of a cloudless sun. While they were at breakfast, a message was received from the train conductor that Robert Hinckley, accidentally left behind at Helena, had paid full first-class fare through to Tacoma, and on the strength of this the Helena agent provided our lad with a ticket to that point. The Pullman man wired from Spokane that Rob's baggage was in his keeping, and would be handed over at Tacoma according to instructions. They did not hear from the steamship agent; but on the following day, when our travellers reached Tacoma, after crossing the coast range by aid of the superb Stampede Tunnel, and having been whirled down the western slope, through the magnificent fir forests of Washington, they found that gentleman awaiting them at the station. Here, also, they found Rob's trunk and his suit-case.

The steamship agent explained that, while he could exchange an unused ticket for one good by the next ship of the same line, he was not allowed to refund money already paid for passage. "However," he added, turning to Rob with a smile at the latter's clouding face, "owing to the fact that I was notified in time, I was able to sell your room to a gentleman who, finding all first-class accommodation engaged, had taken second-class passage rather than wait for another steamer. He, of course, was glad to pay the difference in price, and so I am able to refund half the cost of your ticket, if you feel that you cannot wait for our next ship."

Rob hesitated, while he made a rapid mental calculation.

"Take it," advised Captain Astley, "and come with me to Vancouver Barracks. There, at least, we can save you a hotel bill while you are waiting for another steamer."

So our lad accepted the money, surrendered his steamship-ticket, purchased another to Portland, Oregon, rechecked his trunk to the same point, and a few minutes later found himself, still in company with his army friend, speeding to the southward on the same train that had brought them to the coast.

His first act, after they were again under way, was to refund the money expended in his behalf for telegrams and hotel expenses in Helena. Much to his relief, Captain Astley accepted this without demur, it being one of that officer's pet theories that no gentleman will place another under a pecuniary obligation against his wish, even to the extent of a five-cent car-fare.

In the mean time the latter had learned all that was worth knowing of Rob's history, of course including his recent experiences in connection with Chinese Jo. When he discovered that his young companion could talk Chinese, he said:

"I wish we were to be together long enough for you to teach me, as I believe the time is not far distant when a knowledge of that language will prove a most valuable addition to an army officer's mental equipment."

Finally they reached Portland, where, before the train had stopped, an orderly was in the car saluting and handing his captain an official envelope.

"By Jove!" exclaimed the latter, as he tore it open and glanced rapidly over its contents; "here's a hot shot from a masked battery, and perhaps it may mean that you and I can – But never mind now. We'll talk it over in quarters this evening. Orderly, get these traps out; look after Mr. Hinckley's trunk, and see that it is sent over to the barracks with the rest of the luggage. You wait in the ambulance, Hinckley, while I get the men started, and I'll rejoin you within a few minutes. Great Scott! but this, surely, is great news!"

CHAPTER XII

FROM THE GOLDEN GATE TO THE PEARL RIVER

"I wonder what that despatch can be about," thought Rob, as he sat in the comfortable ambulance which, drawn by two big army mules and with its curtains rolled up, was used as a carriage by the officers of the post. "He was as excited as though war had been declared against somebody or other; but I haven't heard that we are likely to go to war with any one. Perhaps it's Indians, though, and, if so, there's sure to be something about it in the paper."

Thus thinking, Rob beckoned to a passing newsboy and bought a copy of the Oregonian. Diligently as he searched its columns, he could not find a word about Indians. Nor were there any war rumors, and he was more than ever puzzled, until his eye lighted on the heading:

"Battery Z ordered to the Philippines."

Yes, that was it, and Rob began to feel very lonely as he read the brief announcement to the effect that Battery Z was to leave Vancouver Barracks at once for San Francisco, where the transport Logan was already waiting to take it on board.

"That knocks my chance of spending a week, or even part of one, at the barracks," he said to himself, "and I did want to so much. I don't suppose I ought to go over, even for a night, because Captain Astley will be too busy to bother with me. It looks as if he had already forgotten me, for I must have waited here an hour, and I shouldn't blame him if he had."

Just here Rob's sombre reflections were interrupted by the cheery voice of Captain Astley, who sprang into the ambulance from the opposite side and ordered that it move on.

"Hello, Hinckley!" he cried. "I beg your pardon for leaving you so long, but I have been rushed breathless by most unexpected orders that have completely upset all previously arranged plans."

"Then you really are going to Manila?" asked Rob.

"How did you know? Oh! it's already in the paper, is it? Yes, and we've got to move out of here in a hurry – to-morrow, if we can, or the next day at the latest. So I've been arranging about trains and a lot of things that had to be looked after on this side of the river. But, before I forget to mention it, how would you like to go along with us?"

"I!" cried Rob, too surprised to answer the question.

"Yes, you. I wired to the Presidio for permission to take with me Robert Hinckley, our Chinese instructor, and it is granted, provided he pays his own mess bills. They will come to something less than two dollars per day during the voyage from San Francisco to Manila. From there it is only a couple of days' run over to Hong-Kong; and by going with us you can beat that Tacoma ship by at least a week. Besides, you won't have any fare to pay between here and San Francisco. What do you think? Is it a go, and may we count on you as a fellow-passenger aboard the good old Logan?"

"I should say you could!" cried Rob, even more excited than the captain himself. "I never heard of such a piece of undeserved good-luck. Of course, I'll go with you, and feel everlastingly obliged to you for the chance, besides. Only, I don't know how I ever can repay such kindness."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the other. "I thought we finally had settled that question away back in Montana. But here we are, and for the next few days you'll have enough to do to knock all thoughts of gratitude out of your head, for I am going to appoint you my A. D. C. Perhaps you don't know what that is, so I'll tell you. An A. D. C. is a chap who, in active service like the present, has to work twenty-five hours out of the twenty-four, and gets no thanks for anything he does. Do you want the job?"

"Yes," replied Rob, happily, "and I'd take it if it were twice as hard."

So our lad joined the army, and for the next two days, from early morning until late at night, he was about as busy as a boy well could be – helping the captain pack, writing his letters, running hither and thither with orders, and doing whatever was given him to do, with a cheerful promptness that won for him the good-will of all hands.

At the end of that time he found himself in company with a number of officers occupying the rear car of a long troop-train on which was loaded Battery Z – men, horses, guns, and all – headed southward, up the broad Willamette Valley, and starting on their thirty-six-hour run towards the city of the Golden Gate. On the following day they skirted for hours the base of grand old Shasta, one of the mightiest and most beautiful of American mountains. Then they ran down the exquisite valley of the Sacramento, which they first saw as a brook and at last crossed as a mighty river pouring a turbid flood into San Pablo Bay. A little later came San Francisco, with the bustle and anxious excitement of debarking, marching through the city, and re-embarking, this time on the great, white transport that was to bear them away in the track of the setting sun, across seven thousand miles of Pacific waters.

In all this time Rob, while fully intending to write to Hatton concerning his adventures and change of plans, had not found a minute when it seemed possible to do so. Not until the Logan, with her crowded passenger-list, including civil officials, military officers, troops, government school-teachers and other employés, and her vast miscellaneous cargo of live-stock, guns, ammunition, machinery, and stores of every description, had got so far out to sea that the Farallones were only a blur on the horizon behind her did it occur to him that he had neglected his last opportunity for sending back a message until he should reach the distant Hawaiian Islands. Then he sat down and wrote a long letter that he was able to mail eight days later at Honolulu, but which did not reach Hatton until a full month from the date of his departure. In the mean time Mr. Hinckley had cabled to China that Rob would sail by the Oriental from Tacoma on a certain date, and when finally he learned of his nephew's changed plans, it did not seem worth while to cable again, as the lad was already due to arrive at Hong-Kong, and so could tell his own story.

Rob enjoyed every minute of his twenty-four hours' stay in beautiful Honolulu. He was enchanted by its wealth of strange flowers, its tropical foliage, and by the many new fruits that he now tasted for the first time. He drove out to the Pali, the frightful mountain precipice, five miles back from the city, over which, in the old savage days, King Kamehameha I. drove to their deaths an army of his enemies. He experimented with surf-riding on a slender board at Waikiki beach, ate poi, which he didn't like, and enjoyed poha jam. He wanted to climb Diamond Head and to visit the great sugar plantations of Ewa and Waialua; also he would dearly have loved to sail to the island of Hawaii, one hundred and fifty miles away, and gaze upon the mighty volcanoes of Kilauea and Mauna Loa; but there was not time, and all these had to be left for another visit.

The next chance for going ashore came two weeks later, when the Logan stopped for a few hours at the lonely but lovely island of Guam, destined a few years later to become a most important way-station of the American Pacific cable. After Guam came five days more of uneventful sailing, and then Manila Bay, with Corregidor Island standing sentry at its entrance.

"I wonder what Corregidor means?" asked Rob of Captain Astley, as they stood together gazing at this outpost, from which the first warning gun had been fired when Dewey's fleet slipped through the gray of dawn into Manila Bay.

"Some one told me," replied the army man, "that in olden times every Spanish city was governed by a regidor, assisted by councilmen, one from each division, or ward, called corregidors. So if we were to Americanize the name we would call it 'Alderman Island.'"

"Or 'City Father Island,'" laughed Rob.

It was intensely interesting to sail up that broad, mountain-bordered expanse of water, and recall the stirring events of May-day, 1898, when Dewey and his men did the same thing, only with the terrible difference that at any moment they were liable to run into a deadly nest of torpedoes. As they approached the head of the bay they saw Cavité on the right; then the shipping anchored in the roadstead; and then Manila itself lying on both sides of the sluggish Pasig, the old walled city on the right and the more modern town on the left as they faced them.

At Manila, Rob sorrowfully parted with the comrade whom he first had met in far-away Montana, and who ever since had been at once dear friend, guide, instructor, and pupil; for a steamer, on which he promptly engaged passage, left for Hong-Kong the day after the Logan's arrival.

During the month they had spent together Captain Astley had so assiduously devoted himself to the study of Chinese that now he possessed a fair working knowledge of the Southern or Canton dialect, while every man in the battery, thanks to Rob, could express himself with a certain fluency in pidgin (business) English. All of them were on hand to see their young instructor off, and as the launch that was to carry him to his new steamer backed out from the crowded landing, their farewell cheers reminded him of Hatton, and he felt quite as lonely as he had on that first day of his eventful journey. Now, too, that he no longer had friends and regular duties to divert his mind, and with China only two days' sail away, all his anxiety concerning his parents came back with redoubled force. Would he find himself fatherless? – or would the dear face still be there with its smiling welcome? So impatient was he that the two days between Manila and Hong-Kong seemed as long as any previous two weeks of his journey, and he found himself straining his eyes for a glimpse of the China coast hours before there was any possibility of sighting it.

Finally, a number of high, rock-bound islands came into view. Then the ship, passing through a narrow entrance between two of them, threaded a tortuous, strongly fortified channel that opened into the broad, splendid harbor of Hong-Kong. On the right was the recently acquired British territory and new settlement of Kowloon, with wharves, dry-docks, godowns, and barracks. On the left rose Hong-Kong island, with the fine city of Victoria nestled at the base of a peak eighteen hundred feet high and climbing its wooded slopes. The moment the ship dropped anchor amid a fleet of great merchant steamers and men-of-war flying the flags of all the maritime nations of the world, Rob signalled one of the innumerable sampans, "manned" by Chinese women, that swarmed alongside. He already had learned that a Pearl River steamer would leave for Canton within an hour, and so anxious was he to reach his destination, which still lay some two hundred miles beyond that city, that he was determined to go on by the very first conveyance. For this reason he had his trunk and himself taken by the sampan directly from one steamer to the other, and in a short time, without having gone ashore at Hong-Kong, he found himself again under way, on board the side-wheeled, American-modelled steamer Fatshan, bound for Canton, eighty miles distant.

As Rob sat on deck watching with fascinated interest the queer-looking junks with lofty poops, low prows, and sails of matting, the sampans, Chinese guard-boats, and numberless other quaint craft slipping to and fro over those placid inland waters, with sails outlined against the dark background of the Tai-Mo-Shan Mountains, a stranger sitting near him remarked:

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Rob, promptly. "I don't believe there can be a more fascinating river-scene in all the world."

From this the two easily drifted into conversation; and at length the stranger, who proved to be a business-man from Amoy, said:

"New to this part of the world, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Rob; "it all is new to me now, though I was born here; but my parents took me away nearly fourteen years ago."

"Indeed! May I ask where you were born?"

"Wu Hsing, up on the Si Kiang."

"You don't mean the place where the missionaries were killed the other day?"

"Missionaries killed!" repeated Rob, mechanically, and with blanching cheeks. "How were they killed? How many? What were their names?"

"Killed by a mob of natives, as usual; but the city tao-tai and fifteen of the ringleaders were executed yesterday in Canton, so everything is quiet up there now. Their names? Why, I don't seem to remember; but all who were at the station were killed. Nobody escaped. Of course, none of your friends were there, though, seeing that you moved away so long ago."

"My father and mother were there," groaned poor Rob. And for him the light of life seemed to go out with the setting sun that just then sank from sight in the blood-red waters of the Dragon's Mouth.

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE WORLD'S MOST MARVELLOUS CITY

Stunned by the terrible news he had just heard, Rob sat silent, trying to think of all that it meant to him, while his new acquaintance, shocked at the unexpected result of his chance remark, tried in vain to console him. It might not be so bad as reported, he said, for such things always were exaggerated. Probably, Rob would find that his parents had escaped and were safe in Canton. Perhaps the massacre had extended only to native Christians, as often was the case; or, it was more than likely that the Hinckleys had been warned of the outbreak in time to leave Wu Hsing before it took place.

"They couldn't leave," answered Rob, "for my father was too ill to travel." Then, wishing to be alone with his great sorrow, the lad abruptly rose and went to his state-room, which he did not again leave that night.

As it was not advisable for the steamer to reach Canton before sunrise, she stopped about ten o'clock and remained at anchor until daybreak, when she again was got under way. An hour later Rob was wakened from a troubled dream of fighting, killing, and burning by such a confusion of yells, splashings, and other strange sounds that he rushed out on deck with the idea that his dream had become a reality. Once in the open he gazed upon a scene unique and unparalleled. The steamer was slowly making her way against the swift current of a turbid river, along the water-front of the most marvellous city in all the world. She was moving amid a vast collection of floating craft, from fine, English-built Chinese war-ships and foreign gun-boats down through junks of all sizes, stern-wheel "kick-boats" propelled by man-power, gorgeous mandarin-boats gay with fluttering flags, house-boats, flower-boats – which are floating palaces in which men of wealth give expensive dinners – silk-boats, rice-boats, and produce-barges from up-river; fishing-boats, duck-boats, long, slender – paddling-canoes known as snake-boats, besides thousands of sampans and slipper-boats, that ply for hire in any capacity, and on which half a million of people are born, live, and die, in many cases without ever setting foot on land.

So poor are these sampan dwellers, and so greatly is the supply of their labor in excess of the demand for it, that they struggle with one another for the chance of making even a single "cash," which is valued at one-tenth of a penny. In the present instance scores of sampans, propelled by sweeps or sculling-oars, were racing towards the Fatshan, their occupants screaming, gesticulating, firing off crackers, and beating gongs to attract the attention of her passengers. All these craft looked exactly alike, and were about twenty-five feet long by eight feet wide. Each had a small, open deck forward, on which a man, standing and facing the bow, rowed with a pair of sweeps. There was an arch-roofed house amidships, and aft of it a covered deck occupied by a woman, who worked a long sculling-oar, by means of which she both steered and propelled the light craft. Not one of these boats was painted, but all were colored alike with pungent smelling Ning-Po varnish.

From every sampan peered round-faced, solemn-eyed children, boys and girls, all wearing pig-tails and dressed alike, and looking alike, except that the smaller boys generally had bladders, squares of cork, or billets of a light wood fastened to their shoulders to keep them afloat in case they fell overboard. The girls were held to be of so much less value that for them life-preservers were not thought of. Whenever these children were more than four or five years old they helped, or attempted to help, their parents with the oars, while those of younger age took care of the babies.

In the rush towards the steamer of these queer-looking and queerly manned craft they were in constant collision, smashing recklessly together, apparently striving to overturn one another, or to push their rivals out of the way. If one succeeded in making fast, others would hold on to her until the single grass-plaited rope would break, and all would be swept astern in the swift current, their crews screaming and shaking fists at one another as they went.

It was bedlam and babel, sea-fights and water-sports, commercial rivalry and insanity, all mixed into one grand helter-skelter of confusion; and yet, so far as the interested spectators could note, no one was drowned, nor even hurt, though, apparently, no one would have cared a snap if every one else had come to serious grief.

The Chinese passengers from the lower deck of the Fatshan swarmed into such sampans as succeeded in making fast, their queer-looking luggage, done up in matting, was pitched after them, and away they went as though each second was too precious to be wasted. Such of the foreign passengers as were tourists or globe-trotters, visiting Canton out of curiosity, were engaging guides to show them the sights of the wonderful city, and arranging for sedan-chairs, in which they were to be borne on the shoulders of coolies through its endless miles of swarming streets.

There are no wheeled vehicles in these granite-paved thoroughfares, and no beasts of burden, for the broadest and most important street of Canton is but eight feet wide, while in most of them a tall man standing in the middle may touch the houses on either side with his extended finger-tips. From these threadlike passages, packed with blue-clad, yellow-visaged humanity, and reeking with filth, open the narrow portals of shops whose contents would dazzle an Aladdin. Each dim doorway is barred against the entrance by a tiny altar, from which ascends, never-endingly, the incense of smouldering joss-sticks; but once the uninviting entrance has been passed, the visitor finds himself in another world.

The interior is scrupulously clean, and its perfumed atmosphere is that of quiet elegance. He is met by smiling attendants clad in silken garments and shod with noiseless felt, who bow profoundly before him, at the same time cordially shaking their own hands in token of welcome. They invite him to be seated in wonderfully carved chairs, lined with silken cushions, and darkly lustrous with the polish of ages. Tiny tables of marvellous inlay are set before him, and from them he is invited to drink of amber-colored tea served in egg-shell porcelain. Afterwards the hidden wealth of the establishment is brought forth, piece by piece, for his inspection, and it is intimated that these things are for sale, though he never is urged to purchase.