Kitabı oku: «In the Yellow Sea», sayfa 4

"Better come on deck, sonny; you'll see no knives there, and may bear a hand for me. I think, somehow, a storm is coming up. Look slippy now," he said, as he went to examine the other "rooms" astern.

I looked as slippy as possible, but "look sleepy" was just then the more correct expression, as I ascended the stairs to the deck. The breezy, somewhat cool, night soon dissipated the feelings of sloth which remained in my eyes, and I was able to grasp the aspects of the surroundings, which were, after all, pleasanter than the revealed dangers of the cabin.

The mate was forward, and I took up my position by the wheel so as to look well ahead and around. There was a low grating astern, on that I stood and cast my eyes over the sails.

The schooner was slipping away north-east, the wind still just a little abaft the beam, and filling all our sails. The Harada was a topsail schooner – that is, she carried small square sails aloft on the foremast, and as I reflected, with a fast-beating heart, upon the very narrow escape I had had below, my glance was fixed upon the topsail, which seemed pulling hard at intervals. Then the wind would slacken again, the cloths would remain at their former tension, and all well.

The sky was beautifully blue-black and clear, and I calculated that we should reach Shanghai in about six days, supposing no bad weather intervened. I felt very happy and comfortable there, in command, nominally, of the vessel, though I wondered why the skipper remained below.

After a while I became convinced that the breeze was increasing, and more than that, in a jerky, uncertain manner which I did not like. We had plenty of sail on the vessel, jib, stayforesail, topsail, fore and aft foresail, and mainsail. I fancied we ought to furl the topsail at anyrate, and I called the captain through the skylight.

Eagan came up smartly, and after a comprehensive look around, said —

"Mr. Julius, just call the hands, will you? Watch will reduce sail," he cried. "Be smart, lads!"

The watch, who had been resting in the "shade" of the bulwarks, at once arose at the summons, and I ran forward to call all hands, but the mate anticipated me and turned the men up.

"Come, Mr. Julius, will you lead the men aloft for me? I must get the mainsail stowed and the jib down."

"Aloft, boys!" I exclaimed, and was in a moment leading the hands up the rigging. "Crikey," it did blow up there then! All of a sudden, as it seemed, the wind increased, and when we attempted to secure the sail it flapped and banged us about so that it was with great difficulty we even commenced to secure it. But the six skilful hands managed it, and by holding on "by our eyelids" and "legs and necks" we got the square topsail secured to the yard in fair style. Luckily the true tempest had not then broken, and we got the yard down.

Then came the struggle. Sail after sail was reduced as fast as possible, and came down rapidly, racing the mercury in the tube which was leaping lower and lower. All hands were on deck except the passengers, and the sea came drifting in foam and spray across the ship. The Harada dashed into the short seas, which rose landward, as if ejected by big hands underneath with no roller-force; but the wind made noise enough in the shrouds and cordage to deafen us, and even the boats slapped and almost danced adrift from the davits, and filled with rain-water.

I thought we would escape easily, but Eagan roared in my ear that this was the beginning. He was right. The furious blast seized the sturdy little ship at one moment, and snapping some ropes like whipcord, sent them flying around our heads and beyond. The schooner dipped and dipped, lower and lower; strake after strake disappeared, until the planks seemed to become lost, and the vessel to be settling beam under. The passengers set up a horrible scream, they were too greatly alarmed to fight, no doubt; and even the best of us thought of the great and solemn inevitable end.

All this time the sea was most terrible, the wind and darkness were awful, the foam simply a white mist around us. The vessel suddenly rose up again, was again depressed, again lifted as the squall subsided; and after four such experiences, each one bringing our masts down to the waves, and the last one smashing the mizzen-topmast short at the cap, we floated more steadily. The wind changed, smote us again on the starboard quarter, after blowing in a circle for a couple of hours, and we rested on a trembling sea, drenched with spray and rain, and dishevelled.

Most fortunately our masts stood the strain, and our ballast did not shift. Had the latter given way we must have been swamped, or we must have cut away the masts. However, we pulled through the cyclone, or "typhoon" as they call it out there, and in seven days we ran into the river at Shanghai not much the worse after all, though with a jury topmast and spliced rigging.

CHAPTER VI
SHANGHAI: ITS IMPRESSIONS – MURDER! – A RESCUE, AND A HAPPY ENCOUNTER

The steamer had proceeded up the coast, threading the Chinese Archipelago in the direction of the southern entrance to the Yang-Tse-Chiang, as English people mis-name it. The Chinese name it Kiang, or Ta Kiang, the former being the "river," the latter the "great river" (Kiang-tsi being the province). The Kiang runs for three thousand miles through North and Southern China, and is available for steamers for a long distance inland. The contrast between the blue ocean and the mud-tinged waters of the river is observable far from land.

To approach Shanghai we were compelled to proceed carefully in our little ship, because the Woosung River, on which the settlement is so well situated, is narrow and shallow in comparison with the Kiang. But when the last corner is turned and the concession comes into view, with its wharfs, brewery, cathedral, trees, fine houses, quays and streets, well supplied with water, gas, electric light, post-offices, telegraphs, and pillar-boxes; police of sorts, from the British "blue-bottle" to the Chinese "copper" in knickerbockers and gaiters, supplemented by the Sikh or Indian guardian of the peace in a blazing turban, who would more quickly disperse any youthful gathering in England by his mere appearance at the corner than the "bobby" of British aspect at home, the visitor is astonished.

The schooner anchored in the stream, and I was greatly surprised by the evidences of wealth which the beautiful houses and the esplanade, the wharfs and shipping, denoted. All these are so different from the ideas which the average and untravelled Britisher has conceived of China, that if he do not visit Hong Kong on the way out, nor stay in San Francisco on the way round, he will be fairly astonished at Shanghai, when he first views the settlements, and its prosperity.

Three concessions line the river, namely, the English, the American, and the French. The two former are united in their Government, and separated by creeks and bridges. The English and American settlements are well kept, clean, and well looked after. The French, which lies by the Chinese outside-settlement, was rather badly kept, and even a British "ricksha" was not permitted to cross the French line. A roadway lined by trees, like a boulevard, runs between the houses and the river, which is embanked, like the Thames in London. The Chinese city of Shanghai is walled and separated from the "foreign devils'" location, it is most truly Chinese, which means a great deal. Woosung is the port.

I was pondering upon my intended movements, when Eagan came amidships to where I was gazing at the crowded river, and asked me what I proposed to do.

"Suppose you'll go ashore and have a spree?" he said.

"Can't I stay where I am?" I asked. "I have not much money, and am ignorant of the place, though I hear there are boarding-houses for sailors."

"Hum – yes," he said doubtfully. "We're going into dock, and I think you'd better go to the hotel. My passengers are landing, and are going to the Japanese hotel in the American section, now. They won't mind you anyhow. The place is cheap and good, I hear. If you stay there to-night you may find the Consulate in the morning, and get a wire perhaps, or letters, or any news possible."

I thought Mr. Eagan wished me away, and I consented to his suggestion at once. He seemed relieved by my assent.

"See, now," he proceeded, "here's cash for you, never mind paying. We're bound to refit, and you'll have twice the fun ashore than you'd have with me in the 'muss.' You've never been up here? Laws! Then go ashore with my passengers. Never mind the want of baggage, it's aboard your ship," he said, winking, "but I'll lend you a change, and a few things till to-morrow."

Under the circumstances I considered that Eagan's plan was best, and besides he did not want me any more than the four passengers, and I did not press the matter further. The skipper gave me some dollars and a quantity of cash, and passed me amid the crowd of chattering coolies who scented passengers and a job. After a struggle, in which Eagan had upset several of the most unfortunate of the coolies, the valise he had filled for me was hoisted by the chosen one of the mob, and borne by him to the Japanese hotel in Honkiew, the "American" settlement, which, with the British and French settlements, are entirely separated from the Chinese city, though the rich Chinese prefer the foreign quarter.

The foreign concession is surrounded by streams and ditch from the rest, and is virtually an island isolated. The river bounds one side, and brooks the others; one crossed bridges and ditches, and finds change and decay! There is an Anglo-Chinese settlement, but all the foreign side is clean, well lighted by lamps and electricity, with fine houses, warehouses, and public buildings. Shanghai is no longer China in the settlements.

In the American settlement my friend Eagan, whom I suspected was an American bred, had indicated the hotel on the Broadway. To this I repaired, and was quickly furnished with a room which in itself was not lavishly supplied in this manner. However, it was clean, and proved comfortable, and I slept, rocked, in imagination, by the heaving sea.

I awoke late, and was engaged in various "extension motions" ere preparing to dress, when my calisthenics were suddenly brought to a conclusion by the sound of a pistol shot. Was this imagination? I hastily attired myself in pyjamas again, but before I had quite finished, another, and another shot rang out in the corridor!

I dashed out, but seeing no one, though inhaling the smoke of the discharges, I ran to the head of the stairs. Three or four others came on the scene immediately, and a number of persons came rushing up from below. I pushed on, and stared in horror at the sight. A dead and bleeding body lay before me!

It was that of Oh Sing, or Kim, the smaller of the two Coreans who had sailed in the Harada.

I started back. Then Lung had been revenged! I began to appreciate the danger I had escaped on board the schooner. Here was the victim, shot dead in the "Japanese" hotel! Truly I had had a most marvellous escape. Lung had evidently intended to assassinate his companion in the berth which I had unwittingly occupied. What had been the object of the murderer? These reflections hurried through my mind like lightning, and the spectators began to compare notes concerning the incident even while carrying the dead man back to his room. As we thus retraced our steps, we managed to put the facts together, and when the doctor arrived he asked me what I had witnessed. My testimony was brief but important, and the Consul's representative arrived during the interview.

The unfortunate Oh Sing had been shot by three bullets, so all the discharges had taken effect. He had been shot through the cheek – the left – and again through the stomach – wounds which tended to prove that the man must have been lying down when attacked, and that the assassin had entered the bedroom. The left cheek being perforated tended to the assumption that the poor victim had been lying on his right side, away from the door, when attacked. He must then have turned, half rising up, and received another bullet in front, and then he had fled. The third ball had penetrated below the shoulder, and had found its billet in a vital part, for the man had died at the end of the corridor, by the stairs down which the man Lung had escaped.

This was a most unfortunate occurrence for the hotel people, and I fancied I knew then why Eagan had been so anxious to get the passengers, including myself, ashore; and why he had kept the Coreans apart when on board. He knew something – and guessed the rest.

Having given my name to the Consul, and been advised to remain in Shanghai for a while, I had breakfast, for which I had little appetite, and sauntered out. My first visit was to the docks to acquaint Eagan with the news, but I ascertained that the Harada had sailed at daybreak, "leaving no address," so I was compelled to retrace my steps.

I was now in a quandary. If the Fêng Shui did not come up soon I might be arrested as an accomplice in the murder, and all day I strolled about within the settlements listening to the strong expressions of disgust for the deed. The murderer must be hanged – that was only justice. The feeling against the Japanese was in a measure increasing, and one knows how racial dislikes are fomented in the Far East. I began to look around me cautiously. I had been already in the witness-box, and some fanatic might think it proper to whet his knife upon my ribs. This opportunity I did not desire to afford him.

But for all my care I, of all people, was drawn into a dispute, and concerning an arrest – or perhaps I should say an attempted arrest. I was strolling up the road which turns aside from the Bund – a street in which European wares are displayed – when I perceived two rather peculiar Chinamen following a third Chinese, and evidently "shadowing" him. Perhaps I might not have remarked them had not the "shadowed" man halted beside me as I was looking at photographs displayed in a well-known shop. I turned sharply to look at the man. He struck me as different from the ordinary Chinaman, not a coolie, yet not a mandarin certainly. A "middle-class" I may say; a trader, perhaps, but surely not a native of South China.

To my astonishment he addressed me in excellent English.

"Can you permit me to accompany you, sir? Please be cautious."

I stared at the fellow; then thinking that trouble might arise, I made no reply. He spoke again. The men stood watching us.

"Do not turn away. I am in danger in these clothes. Can you assist me? I am a Japanese officer."

"A Jap!" I exclaimed. "Why this disguise, then? What are you doing here?"

"I have been travelling in China. The Chinese suspect me in consequence of the murder here. Can I accompany you a while?"

I paused a moment, and at length consented. We proceeded to the Consulate, and were seated upon the bench there, when my new acquaintance replied to my request for information by saying —

"I am a sailor – a Japanese junior officer. Those men intended to kill me. I am searching for news. They are arming against us."

"Yes," I replied; "I hear as much. How can I protect you then, supposing you are a Japanese officer? How can I tell that?"

"I can produce my authority, sir," he said gently but firmly.

"Will you disclose your identity to the Consul, then?"

"I would prefer not."

"How, then, can I protect you? I have no proof of your mission."

"If you permit me to remain with you until evening, I can then meet protection."

"Why not address some other Englishman – a merchant or shipper? There are many officers and sailors better than I."

"The merchant would not credit a 'Chinese.' The natives do not mix with the foreigners except in business-talk – 'pidgin,' you know. If they betrayed me I might be killed. I intended to leave here sooner, but have found no vessel in which I can yet sail. The Japanese steamer will arrive to-night. Let me remain with you. You will be sorry if you do not, I daresay."

"You speak English very well," I said. "You have been in London?"

"Yes," he answered; "I was attached to the Japanese Embassy a while – at least, I was a student in London, and met with much kindness. My brother, who is in our army, was also in England at one time."

"Can you tell me the names of any people in England who knew you?"

"Oh, certainly," he said, smiling at me as if I had asked an awkward question. Then he mentioned several people well known, and at least one family with whom my people were acquainted, their residence, and friends. I was almost convinced.

"Very well," I said after a pause, "I will take you to the hotel; but you must talk bad English, and attend me to the various places I want to see."

"Can do," he replied promptly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, in surprise.

"Can do; makee talk chop-chop. Alle same Melican-man."

"Pelican? What do you mean? Are you sensible? What's Pelican? Food?"

"No," he replied, smiling broadly, "Melican-man is an American in the pidgin. Melican."

"Oh, I thought you said pelican first, not pigeon." He smiled.

"I was chattering coolie-pidgin. 'Can do' means 'can,' simply. I implied that I would attend you, that's all. Please be careful."

"Of you, or of myself?" I asked, smiling in return. "All right, let us go to the hotel. You can remain there a while, then we will take a stroll, and perhaps by the time we have returned we may find your ship in the stream. I am also expecting a vessel."

"Which vessel? British?"

"Yes, British built, – a steamer, Fêng Shui. Heard of it?"

"Not a steamer. Fêng Shui is Chinese – superstition. The men are leaving us, see! But they will return. Shall we move?"

We rose, and looked round us. I felt rather nervous. Suddenly my young Japanese cried —

"There she is! Kyodo Maya. My ship for Japan."

"A merchant steamer!" I exclaimed. "Not a warship."

"Yes, 'Union Steam.' I go home. You have saved my life. Let me wait until the boat comes ashore. I join my ship at Chemulpo."

I was quite puzzled. Was this man true or false? If false, what could he gain by selling me? He appeared honest, and certainly two men were watching us still. He had laid himself open to suspicion, at least.

"Come with me, sir," he said. "If you will come on board the steamer you will understand this. I assure you I am true, and thankful for your society."

"I am also awaiting my ship. Perhaps your vessel may not wait to put me ashore again, and" —

"I am an officer," he interrupted. "The captain has instructions for me."

"But not for me. See, the men are approaching again. A boat is being launched. Shall we go to the wharf now?"

We hastened down. The sun was setting, and the Japanese had certainly had an escape. Even then the bandits looked ugly and revengeful. The "officer" was full of thankfulness and gratitude to me.

"Remember," he said, "if ever we meet I am your debtor. My name is Tomi Taijiro. My relatives are in the navy and in the mercantile service. My elder brother is in the army. You will remember you have saved my life."

"I am pleased to think so," said I. "If so, I am truly glad. I hope we shall meet again. If so, once more, I shall claim your promise. I believe you."

He bowed deeply, lowly fashion, and I wondered for the moment. But his costume warranted the obeisance, and the boat came near. The two men approached us through the throng, and Tomi whispered —

"On guard! I dare not call assistance. Stand firm!"

Meantime the steamer's boat was approaching, impelled by Japanese. The Chinamen came closer. We shifted away amongst the people, and I hailed the boat. The officer made a sign to the coxswain. The men pulled harder.

At that moment the assassins rushed in. In another moment we might have been struck, or even killed. But we turned suddenly, and unexpectedly separated. Each seized a "coolie" – so they appeared to be – and with real luck avoided a stab. In a second both men were swimming for life amid the shouts of the spectators, amid alarms and cries from natives.

"What is it?" asked some anxiously. "What has happened? Were they thrown in?"

"An accident," I replied, nodding at Tomi as I turned away. The boat came up, and he was rowed away, to the surprise of the onlookers on the wharf, who had not seen the struggle.

Then I returned, and remained indoors next day till afternoon.

As no one molested me, I became more easy in my mind as the day wore on, and I began to look about me with more interest. From the fine parade along the river, – the Bund it is called, – with its turfed slopes, Shanghai is alive, right away to the men-of-war, local steamers, and launches. The streets are full, even crowded, with passers-by and rickshas – the original "Pull-man car of Shanghai." On the Bund the business is performed, and its occupants are indeed busy. It is a wonderful sight for the stranger from Europe, who expects things to be Chinese-like. In the Maloo, or chief road, cabs, broughams, barrows, and horsemen jostle each other daily.

This is not China! It is London, Paris, New York. Fine houses and broad pavements; banks, hotels, imposing buildings, a cathedral. Great ships and little boats, sampans. Vessels loading and unloading, noise and bustle, cranes and steam-whistles. Babel of language, and the never-ceasing chatter of the Chinaman and his friends. Cash! cash! cash! Merchants, coolies, rickshas, runners, porters; Chinese dodging the carts, and avoiding the "foreign devils"; yet, at times, driving in British landaus driven by a Chinese. Such a confusion, such fun and variety; yet all over it, for me, hung the shadow of the crime of the Corean which led to War!

I crossed the bridge, and visited the Chinese-European sections, – not the city of Shanghai, – and the French Quai des Fossés, and the familiar notice of the continent of Europe – "defendu!" The Chinese possess in their section no landaus, they hire wheelbarrows like Mr. Pickwick's. Here one can examine the shops and the natives at leisure. You may see the deformed feet, and the really unpleasant supplies of food which the Chinaman consumes, and the frequent coffin which he will occupy later when he dies of "carrion dishes."

And all this primitive, conservative, old-world practice in the midst of modern civilisation – electric light, steam, and even comparatively broad streets, high houses, and wide roads, – but not China.

I put in the three last items because Chinese natives have no roads, as we called them, no high houses as in Europe, and no streets. The streets are alleys; the houses deep, not high; the roads, paths! All is topsy-turvy; even the house-roof is made and put up before the walls; and politeness consists in depreciating oneself to the visitor. The lady of the house is a nonentity, and the meaning of "wife" is merely "the woman who uses the broom" or servant! In Shanghai Anglo-China you may be amused and interested, but in a Chinese town, such as Amoy, or Shanghai, or Hankow, you will be disgusted, and unless strong in all ways, come away absolutely sick and ill. The sights, the smells, the open drains, the filth, the putrid food, and the personal dirtiness, will, in a quarter of an hour, repel all but the devoted seeker and the confirmed and robust smoker.[²]

But when within European districts one may see something, and satisfy legitimate curiosity; perhaps even in the peep-shows, though here again the taste of the native is for "high" meats; and "blue" incidents, as in the theatre and such places, are evident.

*****

When I arose next morning I heard that Lung had been arrested, and that the inquest was to be held at once. Lung did not seem in any way interested, and declared that he had acted under directions from high authority in Corea. However that may have been, he was not hanged nor imprisoned, but handed by the consuls to the Chinese, and departed in a man-of-war.

Being much interested in the case, I kept watch, and discovered that the man would be conveyed away by night to Corea. As I was wondering how I could find out the fact, and conceal myself from the police, I saw a well-known figure making for the Consulate, near which I was seated. I rushed up and accosted the new-comer.

"Captain Goldheugh! This is luck!"

"Julius! By thunder! is it yourself entirely? Well now, look at that! I was going to the Consulate for ye. Look at that!"

This was an apostrophe, a favourite expression with the skipper.

"And ye're not dead at all?" he asked, after a hearty shake, twice repeated.

"Not at all," I replied, laughing. "Delighted to see you, captain."

"So am I, bedad! Why, the steamer was crying for ye, and wouldn't steam scarcely, and we declared it was the name did it —Fêng Shui, no less. I am thinking of changing it. I am so!"

"Why, sir? Surely Fêng Shui is no harm?"

"No harm, is it? Bedad, it may mean anything – in China; and as we're Chinese now – a Chinese transport I think I'll make it, bedad! – I'm going to the Consul to report the Kowshing. I never did like the name Fêng Shui – in China. I was told it was unlucky."

"Why? What does it mean?" I asked, as we continued our way.

"Fêng Shui? I told ye it means 'wind and weather,' – but also their influences; things which cannot be exactly understood, but which, like electricity, are evident. In China Fêng Shui generally means a grave."

"That's cheerful, anyway," I muttered.

"And whether the place is 'good' or 'bad' depends very much upon the imagination or estimation of the persons interested. There are 'professors' who profess to understand Fêng Shui, but I needn't say they are mostly humbugs, and only try to make money out of ye. But I think China is getting much wiser, and less conservative in many ways. Ye'll see ladies on bicycles soon – I mean Chinese women; and when ye do, ye may depend the old restrictions are broken away."

"Then the Fêng Shui is doomed, you mean?"

"Yes, it will be; and the steamer must change her name. Look here, Julius, between you and me and the bedpost, the mate and myself have made up our minds to stand the racket for the Company, and chance it. The agent holds off, but I see my way to profit by the fuss."

"What fuss? This murder?"

"Bosh!" exclaimed the captain. "The war! The Chinese and Japs are already at loggerheads about Corea. This murder business will cause the Japs to interfere. China has already sent soldiers to Corea, and the Japs have the right to do the same. Now ye'll see sparks fly!"

"I'm afraid I do not quite understand it."

"Well, well! Can't ye understand the difference between Conservatives and Progressives? Yes! Then Japan is progressive, and the Chinese the other way. The Johnnies objected to Corea being made progressive, as the Japanese tried to make it, because Japan is advancing to European perfections. That very fellow who was killed two days ago was an adherent of Japanese advance, and the old Coreans' style opposed him. Some years ago (in 1882) the Japanese had to fly out of Corea; they sent troops to punish the natives, the Chinese did the same, for the sake of making peace. But the Corean Progressives attacked the Corean Conservatives, who retaliated, and drove the Progressive party out in 1884.

"Then it was arranged that both China and Japan, the Conservative and Progressive motive-powers, should each send troops to Corea if the other did, and the treaty between Li Hung Chang and Count Ito lasted for nine years, till now – 1894. And now," concluded the skipper, "Mr. Oh Sing, or Kim, has again thrown the fat into the fire. He's been killed, – he was a 'Progressive,' ye understand, – and the consuls, or one of them, has caused the murderer to be sent by the Chinese to Corea to the king, free and unpunished! Bedad, my lad, we'll see more sparks out o' these flints yet!"

"Then the Conservative Corean has killed the Progressive Corean?"

"Just so; and the Chinese, being Conservative, have saved the murderer, and sent him home in a man-of-war! In a Government ship! Sent him home with honours! Sure the Japs won't stand that."

"I suppose it was a planned thing?"

"Certainly; a plot, – a decoy. You, somehow, came in the vessel, and, I hear, got into trouble almost. If the King of Corea instructed the man Lung, or Hung, and if he goes back unpunished, then ye'll see some 'fun,' as people call it."

"And the Chinese expect something?" I asked.

"Yes, they do. They're searching for transports on the quiet; and when I have changed the Fêng Shui to Kowshing, and settled the bad luck, then we'll just go up to the Yellow Sea, and look in at Taku."

"Why at Taku?'

"Because I hear, quite by accident (accidentally on purpose, as my uncle used to say), that the troops for Corea will embark there, if anywhere at all. My game is ready, and the steamer will be there. If I can get the job, I makee much cash; if not, then perhaps one catchee die, and get one piecee coffin, as Johnny Coolie might say. But alle samee some day. Are ye hungry, Julius? Let's chow-chow, eh?"

"Indeed I am, sir; very hungry."

"So'm I. I'm a'most dying with the forgortha – the hunger, ye know, – myself. Come on then, and have bird's-nest soup and roast rat."

"No thank you," I replied with a shudder,

"Oh, come on, boy! Have lunch with me, and drink good luck to the Kowshing and peace to the Fêng Shui. Come!"