Kitabı oku: «In the Yellow Sea», sayfa 7

CHAPTER X
A TRANSFORMATION SCENE – I BECOME A "CHINESE"

While I ruminated upon this most unexpected incident, my ears were almost insensible of the shouts and singing, the cries of "Nippon Banzai!" – Japan for ever! – the music, and the general enthusiasm. Who had been so base as to state that I was a Chinese spy? Perhaps one of the crew who had rescued me from the sinking steamer, and had noticed me in the company of the German officer, a well-known adherent of the Chinese. If so, my fate was sealed. The yardarm on which the falcon had perched appeared to me to be my ultimate destination, or to suggest it. The more I ruminated upon my prospects, the less I liked them.

Meantime the Naniwa pursued her course, the lookouts keeping a most careful watch for torpedoes. I kept an equally anxious watch for the midshipman.

At length he returned, having had an interview with the captain. His expression puzzled me, because it gave me no assurance of relief, and yet did not suggest despair.

"Well?" I asked, as soon as he came within speaking distance. "Am I to be boiled in oil?" This was an attempt at levity which my heart did not respond to.

"No, not yet," was the alarming answer. "But you will have to leave the ship."

"Leave the ship? Why?"

"Because you must. A rumour has arisen about you, and the men do not regard you with favour. An opportunity will occur to put you ashore, and then you will be landed with others."

"Then you think me a traitor!" I exclaimed. "I swear I am not! Why, you must know yourself that I an Englishman and honest."

"Yes; I said so."

"Won't the captain believe you, then? What can he think of you?"

"He believes me, certainly."

"Hang me if I understand you!" I exclaimed irritably. "What is the fuss about? What is to be done? Let me know the worst?"

"The fact is as I said: you will be sent ashore. You understand some Chinese?"

"But the dialects differ. Surely your clever captain knows that?"

"Yes; and there lies the point. Four men – our men – are going ashore. They are interpreters of the fleet. The men have an idea that you are mixed up with the Chinese. So the captain thinks it better to send you ashore with the interpreters, who intend to search the places and report upon the country."

"Really, your captain is very kind, but I can't travel in China as a Japanese, or perhaps as an Englishman in your service."

"No," replied my friend calmly. "You must go as a Chinese."

"A Chinese? Play the spy, you mean? Never!"

"Then you may be shot; because the impression amongst the crew, as reported, is hostile to you."

"But the captain can settle that. What's the use of his being captain if he can't quench this falsehood – if he wishes?"

"His wishes are not concerned, his ship is; and his orders are to land you with the explorers from the fleet. No one will harm you in our service, because you shall have a permit. When you meet the army you will be safe."

"But why not put me aboard a British vessel? There are several in these seas. That is the most sensible plan. Ask the captain that?"

"I am afraid his mind is made up on the subject. If you had not been suspected of Chinese inclinations, you might have got sent away easily. You rather favoured the Chinese, you remember?"

I then recalled some expressions I had used after my release on board the Naniwa respecting the conduct of the Japanese ships in respect of the steamer Kowshing. These remarks must have been heard and commented upon. I felt annoyed, and said —

"Then I quite believe there are Japanese spies on board. When am I to clear out?"

"When opportunity occurs," the young man replied, rather coldly. "You need not think you are under arrest meanwhile."

"Thank you," I said; "I will try to deserve the clemency."

Then he left me to my reflections, and I remained staring at the sea, and thinking of the future, until the hour and the change of the watch warned me to seek my hammock.

We had sighted nothing during the night, and in the morning the smoke of the retreating warships was all we discerned. Whether the Japanese squadron had had enough fighting I cannot say. At anyrate, the admiral did not hasten the pursuit, he returned in the direction of Talien Bay.

The combined squadron now discovered some remnants of the encounter of the day before, at which "all hands" gazed with satisfaction and interest. As we advanced to Hai-yang Island the distant smoke of some steamer caused the admiral to despatch a cruiser to intercept the vessel, but whatever she was she escaped. My interest in the chase, and in the general surroundings, was keen, because I knew not what fate might befall me; and if the steamer had been a Britisher I might have been transferred to her.

But no such luck was mine. As I gazed around the ship, and realised the effects of the action, and recalled the remembrance of it, I felt depressed. The roar, the smoke, the flames, and the rattle of the great fight had all died away and disappeared. The heavy black pall of smoke which had shrouded the vessels had been lifted long before, and nothing but a stranded Chinese vessel and fragments of the encounter remained.

A signal fluttered, and the Chiyoda was sent upon its ghoulish errand to destroy the wreck of the stranded ship. This proved to be the Yang Wei, which had run aground. A torpedo effected the desired result, and shattered the vessel to atoms, after which brilliant episode the Chiyoda came pelting up to the squadron again. Then the whole array proceeded to the anchorage, where some of the disabled Japanese ships had repaired. There we ascertained that the falcon which had flown on board the Takachiho had been easily secured, and placed in a cage; and when, later, one of the imperial chamberlains came to convey the Mikado's congratulations to the admiral and the fleet, the bird was committed to his charge for conveyance to the Emperor. I heard, long afterwards, that the bird was named after the cruiser, and was then living in the imperial aviary at Tokio.

However, this is by the way. My personal adventures were at the time much more interesting to me, and yet I was neither kept in bondage nor for a while put ashore. But one day the verdict was delivered, the sentence pronounced, and my farewell was made. The circumstances were as follows: —

A lieutenant came into the berth with my friend, and by him I was informed that I must prepare for departure. We had been acting as escort to a number of transports in Japanese waters, and any chance of escape had been carefully prevented. So when the lieutenant came in with his interpreting junior, I was almost pleased to meet them and hear my fate, though it was tinged with despair. Anything then appeared to me better than submission to the polite suspicions to which I had lately been enduring, and even thus my position as an Englishman and a sailor preserved for me a greater degree of toleration than would have been granted to most other foreigners. The recital of my adventures and training, particularly my rescue of the young Japanese officer, pleaded in my favour; but the rumours from the forecastle, which had penetrated to the ward-room, compelled attention, and in war-time any underhand practices, if only suspected, always bring disaster.

The fleet, as I have said, had for some time patrolled the Manchurian coast, seeking for a landing-place for the lately raised army, of which Marshal Oyama was appointed general-in-chief. The division had landed in Corea near the Taidong River, and thither the men-of-war proceeded when the arrangements for the disembarkation had been concluded.

It was on the 23rd October that the whole array of transports, escorted by a number of warships, left the river; and next day, an eventful day for me, they anchored off the Manchurian coast at some little distance from shore, in thick and misty weather. All hands were alert, though nothing had occurred to alarm us, but when the vessels became discernible from the shore some excitement was manifested, because the natives had never seen such an array of force, and could not believe in its advance. They knew the water was shallow, and though their junks could come in, and lie at ease under the shadow of the hills, the great vessels would be wrecked, they knew.

The Naniwa had anchored when the two officers came to the berth in search of me, and made the final proposition, as I anticipated. My young friend interpreted the decision.

"The captain and officers," he said, "have no alternative in this matter, though I am instructed to say that in their opinion you have not willingly transgressed nor plotted against his Imperial Majesty. Therefore they offer you the opportunity to go ashore with our scouts, and to act with them. Will you accept the offer?"

"Pray accept my thanks for the courtesy. But what if I decline it?"

"Then you will be dealt with in a more severe manner."

I paused before I replied to this. My temper rose, and I felt that any dispute was to be avoided. Still I could not withhold a protest.

"Your captain can, of course, hang me, but I am perfectly innocent. Cannot he send me aboard some American or British ship?"

"We have no means of doing so," he replied, when this renewed demand had been translated. "You must decide at once, and, if you do accept the offer, make your preparations."

"Well then, I must accept, I suppose. What preparations do you refer to?"

"You must appear as a Chinese, and accompany the interpreters ashore, and bring back the intelligence to the Commander-in-Chief."

I was staggered. My heart beat loudly. Was this Japanese method? Then the punishment was really intended to fit the supposed crime. I was accused of being a spy. The Japanese would make me one in fact! This was carrying the war into the enemy's country with a vengeance.

"Impossible!" I gasped. "I cannot. You surely will not compel me to play the spy?"

The lieutenant perceived my indignation, and said something to the junior officer.

"You must decide quickly," he said. "The troops will soon be landed."

This was a form of speech which I discounted. The vessels were miles away from shore.

"Who will be my companions? and shall I be treated well?"

"Certainly. One of your associates can speak French, you can also speak a little Chinese. They will be told that you are an English correspondent of a newspaper. You sketch?"

"A little."

"Then your arrangements will be easily made. You will go as a traveller, as many of your compatriots have already done in Asia-Minor and farther East. Put aside the idea of 'spy,' sir; think of your safety only. You will be a traveller, and can move as you please."

"You do not expect me to return?"

"No, indeed! Pardon me, we want to get rid of you."

I smiled faintly. "Very well," I said. "How can I find the dress?"

"Very easily. You shall see. This is settled then?"

"Decidedly!"

"That is good. The captain will supply you with cash, and give you a pass to roam as you please; but the Chinese may interfere with you."

"You will give me a revolver?"

"Yes; and plenty of ammunition. A knife may be useful – or sword."

"Perhaps; but why a sword?"

"To kill yourself, if necessary, and save yourself torture," replied the young man calmly, as he retreated in the wake of his superior.

I shuddered, and stood staring after them as they ascended to the deck; then followed them, and looked around me once again on the Yellow Sea. It had never warranted its name before in my eyes. It did then.

We were anchored off a village almost as primitive as some in Cornwall; and the sandy beach, the cliffs, and the more distant hills, somehow reminded me of England, though the junks destroyed the illusion, and the costume of the astonished natives dissipated any resemblance to the sturdy west-country fishers of my own land. I wondered how the troops would manage to embark; but I soon perceived a party of Japanese had landed in a small boat, and had planted a flag on one of the hills.

As we were all watching them, some soldiers quitted one of the transports, and then the ships, in obedience to a signal, moved in closer, feeling their way, and steering "for the flag" on the hill. The soldiers had included a party of engineers, and after a while they began a long pontoon-bridge in the shallow water, to land the artillery and horses. I was intensely interested in the calm and deliberate manner in which the Japanese set to work. They had apparently no fear of interruption by the enemy, for I saw some of the men-o'-war, scouting in the offing, capturing a few junks, and finally a small steamer, which proved a great assistance in towing and landing troops and supplies.

These arrangements were not made nor completed in a day, nor in ten. I think a fortnight elapsed before I was once more warned for service, and a complete suit of Chinese dress procured for me.

My young mentor brought it to me below.

"Here is your uniform," he said; "your travelling dress. Don't look so angrily at me," he continued; "indeed I cannot help it."

This pacified me somewhat, and after all the change was nothing more extraordinary than Burton's. I began to perceive that the Japanese captain was, perhaps unwittingly, doing me a good turn, for some Englishmen were certain to turn up with the army, and with them I could be assured of protection. Unfortunately, I could not "have it out" with the captain, either to thank him, or to condemn.

The Chinese dress is so simple, that one wonders it is not adopted more generally. The night-suits and day-suits are almost identical, and the dress of ladies and gentlemen, in pattern and material, are almost alike. The trousers, tunic, or kirtle, need no decided measurement, for one measure is sufficient for each garment, as from hip to ankle, or from neck to the knees, as the case may be. In winter, wadding is quilted into the clothes, and several suits worn over the innermost, so that a man may be apparently stout until unrolled, or undressed. The suits wear for years, as the fashion of the Chinese passeth not away; and when the old suit is discarded, it is relegated to night-duty – goes on the "night-shift," as the miner says.

There was no difficulty in arraying me over my body-clothing in Chinese costume, and in a few minutes I was transformed into the outer semblance of a Chinaman with a crop of thick hair. The dresser then shaved my face, and made me up, and he began to shave my locks. This I resented, and was about to resist forcibly, until the young officer interfered and made peace.

At length I was attired, painted, and coiffe; my delicate skull was shaven; a long lock was retained, and to this a proper pigtail was by artifice attached. When this caudal appendage was fixed, and my whole appearance touched up, I caught sight of myself in a mirror, and, after a struggle with my pride, burst into a roar of laughter.

It was too ridiculous! The "coolie," butcher-blue suit, the queer shoes, the long sleeves, the wide trousers and loose tunic, made me feel as if dressed for a fancy ball, and my amusement was only checked by the presentation of the revolver and some cartridges. I was instructed to rely upon my chosen companion for all else, and for example. We were to travel in pairs, and I was to keep silent, as much as possible, for my own sake and his. My young friend, the middy, gave me several hints as to behaviour and manners, and my own experience dictated several more, which I could employ with advantage.

When my costume had been completed by a cap, I was taken on shore by the young officer, Tomi, and put under the care of a Japanese interpreter, who seemed to be a good sort of fellow. Tomi urged him, with much native eloquence, to be vigilant, and to look after the Englishman, who was one of those "crazy creatures" who risk their lives in the search of information. The Japanese apparently understood the nature of the animal. A Chinese would have thought me a lunatic, for even a man who hunts, or "sports" in any way, is regarded by Celestials as stupid. "They should get men to do all this for them," they say of the British athlete.

The natives were perfectly quiet, and we (the scouts) were directed to proceed across the isthmus, first along the coast to Putsewo, or Pittozo-wo, and thence across towards Fuchow. The former place is about twenty-eight miles from where we had landed, and in the direction of Port Arthur. The other two scouts were directed to proceed further in the direction of Kinchow, which is at the opposite side of the peninsula, where it is narrowest, there being only about two miles distance between the shores of Talien Bay and the Nan-Kua Pass. The peninsula then expands. Port Arthur occupies the eastern side in the bay, at the extremity.

My companion, named Hoyo, or Hoko, took a rather nervous farewell of the officer. Tomi clasped my hands, and repeatedly assured me that my life had been frequently in danger, and had I remained I must have fallen a victim to the enmity of the Japs. He again protested that he was for ever my debtor, and had even volunteered to accompany me in my expedition, but had been refused.

"Take this badge," he concluded, "it is a private token of a Japanese naval officer. If ever in the company of our fleet, or even with the army, and in trouble, produce it. It is the Emperor's gift, and will assure you of safety. Farewell!"

He wrung my hand, touched his cap, and turned away to the boat, while Hoko and I mounted the sandy shore which ascended beside the river Hua-yuan.

Thus I was again "dismissed" from naval service, and cast upon my own resources, and slender they were indeed!

CHAPTER XI
CHINESE LANGUAGE – "HELD UP" – BETRAYED!

We started in the gloaming, carrying small packs and some supplies, for we did not know whether the natives would suspect us, or assist us, even if they were not distrustful. Hoko "cheered me up" by relating slowly, for my benefit, the list of likely tortures which the Chinese practised upon the enemy. The list need not be recapitulated in full, but cutting-up (alive), beheading, and hanging, first by the heels, were amongst those most usually inflicted upon the prisoner, and perhaps the most "merciful."

My spirits were not thereby elated, and scarcely had we reached the road when a picket of Japanese soldiers accosted us. They were quickly satisfied by my companion, and laughed at us as we parted with them. This interview was succeeded by others, and in each case we got away safely. At our last halt Hoko consulted his map, and gave it to me to ponder in the lantern-light of the picket guards. Again we resumed our journey, and this party proved to be the last post of the Japs at that time. Thenceforward all was dark and unknown.

When we had proceeded a few miles, hunger assailed us, and after a short time we agreed, chiefly by signs, to rest in the glade into which we had wandered from the road. The Chinese tongue never seemed to me so wanting in expression as then. My command of language is not despicable in English, and on board ship; but in that glade in the society of the Japanese scout I felt kinder dumb! There was no need for silence. The Chinese language embraces about forty thousand strokes or letters (or signs rather) in writing; while only about three hundred and fifty are spoken. Hence the same spoken word represents a number of different – vastly different – things in writing; and the few hundreds of words represent so many more thousands of characters or signs! Even a Chinese may communicate with a friend in another province by writing; but he very likely will not understand his dialect.

The Chinese language, I may state, depends really upon the tones of voice, not upon the actual pronunciation of the words, and these tones are even increased in the Mongolian dialect. In Manchuria, perhaps, the bulk of the population is of Mongolian descent, a superior, a braver, race than the ordinary (I don't say "pure and simple") Chinaman – for "John" is not that. But practice and tone of voice will teach much; and this tone will entirely alter the sense of the speaker if he misapply it. In some languages one may speak by "ear." Ear is of no account in China. There are certain "radical signs" and a number of "primitive" signs; characters are made by combining both, and are written downwards.

As may be anticipated, I had not made much progress in the Chinese language, but I could chatter "pidgin" English, which is so useful in the Treaty ports, and so useless in China proper, which is arrived at by changing every "r" to "l" and adding the "e" doubled when it is single, as in "alle samee," "makee laugh," "alle samee Elopean man," "no wantchee." "Number one" means "proper," and "chop-chop" "quickly," in this language; while "play-pidgin" is merely "talk," and "top-side pidgin" is religion, or religious converse.

One soon becomes conversant with the business talk, for "pidgin" means "business" in the mind of the trader and the coolie (or labourer). But let me resume my narrative.

The night was very chilly, and the early morning misty, as my companion roused me up and told me that we must be going. Let it be remembered that our conversations were only carried on piecemeal, and when I mention them you must understand that signs assisted us greatly. But the man was honest, I believed, and had no thought of any treachery towards me. We conversed in southern dialect a little, and made signs.

We presently reached a river which I learned was called Pilu (or Pihliu), and proceeded to a small village where we got some food, which I did not relish, but had to eat in order to keep up my character. We learned that the invaders were expected, and that it would be better for us to keep away to the north-west, else we might get into trouble. We therefore assented, and passed on for a while, intending to change our route as soon as possible, but fate had ordained otherwise. My companion had intended to proceed in the direction of Putsewo, and then strike westward again, marching by a compass and map which I had secured in my tunic, but when we took the advice of the well-meaning villagers we left our former direction, and when again essaying to recover our route we came to grief. For a long time we wandered amidst the hills and rough country seeking a track, but finding nothing promising, until almost suddenly we descended a hillside and found ourselves near a rather substantial village, from which there was no escape without questioning from the natives.

Hoko quickly gave me to understand that I was his brother, that we were South Chinamen seeking a ship at Port Arthur, and that we had been north and intended to return to Chefoo.[⁴] We had rehearsed this little play before, and my South-China lingo was supposed sufficient to deceive the Mongolians. If necessary, my guide informed me, a little "geomaney," or "wind and weather" fortune-telling, would keep suspicion at bay. So, primed with a few simple maxims, I braced myself for the encounter.

The natives were decidedly of the race of Didymus. They did not credit half our assurance, and we – at least I – wished we had more of it. Certainly the interpreter remained as cool as possible, and his calm method of lying would have discredited Ananias of old, and deceived St. Peter himself. I give my impressions of the examination to which the interpreter was subjected.

"Your name?" demanded the chief of the villagers.

"Ho-wuh-Chang."

"Where do you come from?"

"Panchwang, in the province of Fuhkien."

"Where have you been?"

"At Takushan."

"Whither bound?

"Chefoo and Shanghai."

"Who is this man?"

Here the interpreter made a pretence of great reverence and respect, as he answered —

"My all-enlightened brother of Tau."

This reply drew attention to me, for Tau is the "priest" of Chinese theosophy or magic art, and is accordingly respected, for every Chinaman fears Tau, the more so as he has no idea what it is, any more than its votary. Tau is "The Right": what one cannot see, nor hear, nor seize. It is a kind of "Fêng Shui" in its essence, and Tau is the true Reason for all things in the universe, the Great Primitive Cause in the world, not a religious dogma.

The Tauist, then, becomes by inheritance, or profession, a kind of priest, a miracle-man, supposed to be versed in ancient lore, able to tell fortunes, and decide social questions with authority as regards the work and operations of nature, and "Fêng Shui" – the effects of wind and weather. Superstitious as the Chinese are, these attributes confer great authority upon the adherents and practice of the Tauists. Hence, if I was not found out, my companion concluded we should escape.

Unfortunately one of the villagers perceived the accent of the Japanese interpreter, and declared him a Corean! This at once gave cause of mischief, and my companion was searched, his small knapsack, or pack, was turned upside down, and all the while a rush of epithets assailed us both. I carried no pack, but had the compass and map and revolver in my possession. If the suspicious and antagonistic villagers had found those articles our fates would have been sealed, and a cruel death must have ensued.

While the natives were thus examining the Japanese, I was not molested, though several glances were directed at me, and some remarks made – which I did not notice. All the time I was endeavouring to discover some means whereby I could satisfy, if I could not alarm, the villagers, but for a while no idea appeared to my mind feasible. The pack had been examined, the Jap had been interrogated freely and rudely, and now my turn was approaching. Fortunately the villagers had been informed that I did not wish to be disturbed, but they had evident intentions of finding things out for themselves!

Luckily, I possessed one of the attributes of the Tauists, perhaps quite as sincere as theirs – the knowledge and anticipation of the ordinary phases of weather. The morning had been misty and almost frosty, and a change of wind, I noticed, had been causing a fog to arise. Hitherto it had been almost imperceptible even in the hills, the vale was clear; but while looking about me I noticed the vapour gradually creeping down the slopes behind the men who barred our way. My plan was quickly matured: the mist would serve us well. I remembered Fennimore Cooper, and the eclipse as adapted by Haggard in Solomon's Mines, and hoped for success.

I calmly approached my companion, and managed to give him a hint, in French, that he was to make me out a necromancer; thus I intended to play upon the fears of the natives, and he must back me up. Meantime, if we were attacked, I would shoot as many of the assailants as I could. My suggestions and gestures were understood, and when the natives advanced to search me, demanding some explanation, the interpreter motioned them to stand aside. He told them to be careful. I was a necromancer – one who had the weather "in the palm of his hand"; was related to the genii, and if I (and he) were interrupted further, and our peaceful progress barred, the immediate consequences would be serious, and the future disastrous for the village. Their graves would suffer, their families die; and I could change them themselves into stocks and stones, and cause them to disappear from the village. In fact, I could transform them! When once the Japanese Ananias had fully embarked upon the marvellous, his imagination carried him away more completely than ever the villagers could be. If we were properly treated, he added, money might be showered upon them!

While the interpreter was thus hoodwinking the villagers, one or two of whom seemed sceptical, I bethought me of a simple trick which I had practised in "parlour magic" at home. If the fog did not serve my purpose I could convince the natives, so I beckoned to the chief sceptic, and taking a piece of money from my wallet, which contained little of value, I placed the coin in his palm, pressing it firmly into the hand and closing the fingers. He looked pleased, and retired, keeping his fingers closely shut as directed; my "assistant" hinted if the man were unfriendly his coin would disappear, at which the villager called up a smile or grimace as a protest, evidently hypocritical, and his associates also watched him.

Seeing the gift, they came forward with much curiosity, and as I examined their features I found that some of the men were fairly honest, and a "tip" would not be thrown away upon them, though it must be merely a token, not a gift. So while bestowing these "tips" I kept my eyes upon the weather, and by the time I had given all the men small presents, as they fancied, but only a few of the most influential actually received money, the mist came rolling down thickly. To escape was now my intention.

It was rather amusing to see the party of men standing in a row helplessly with their right hands guarding the magic gifts thus bestowed by the "Tauist." The interpreter had already grasped the situation, and at my request desired the natives to turn at the necromancer's order, step ten paces, and open their hands. The order was impressed upon them by myself. I waved my hands and made as if impelling some invisible force to urge these simple superstitious men. They moved in obedience to my order, slowly, and when I had counted six, pausing between each number, the interpreter and I rushed away through the glade, and into the mist, which perhaps the Chinese may have fancied I had induced. The last I saw of my dangerous adherents was a line of stupid-looking men each gazing at his closed hand, and speculating upon what it contained for him.

I am afraid most of them were disappointed when they had released their grasps of the magic gifts, and they found money in only four palms, and those of the most influential of the party.

Meantime my faithful companion and I hurried away into the mist, which effectually shrouded us, and pursued a devious course, now and then halting to listen for the pursuers, for we did not doubt they would pursue us. But we heard nothing to alarm us, and made good progress when the mist lifted later.