Читать книгу In the Yellow Sea - Frith Henry - Страница 6

As I did not wish my chief to know whither I was bound, I went ashore first, and strolled about in the cooler hour of the evening, and even penetrated into the queer Chinese slums where little drums of the peddlers, and the chatter and smells and heat, soon drove me back to the parade, away from the houses of the natives. Their stupid faces, so smooth and greasy-looking, their odd dress, long pigtails (of the men), the coarse, rolled hair, pinned in masses (of the females), both sexes being costumed nearly alike, quite put me off. Even some experience of the country has not impressed me in favour of the native of China.

So I returned to the water, and calling a "sampan" got the number of the man taken – for many people have been "missed" from a Chinese boat at evening – and told my man to propel me across the harbour towards Kow-loon. This is in China, where the change of the scenery is marked and wild; but I did not come for the prospect, I wanted to search the further side of the harbour, which is about a mile across and ten square miles in extent.

If the Coreans had an idea of secrecy, I imagined they would rather seek a small sailing vessel – perhaps a junk rather than a steamer, though, of course, the latter would be more speedy, and more certain if a storm arose. But they would sail by the north channel, so I made for the north point, the extremity of the peninsula of Kow-loon, which is under British authority by lease.

I passed amid the ships of all kinds, large and small, which crowd the harbour; boat-houses (literally dwelling-houses) of the natives who at Hong Kong, as at Canton and Shanghai, and other places, live in the wherries in aggregate thousands. Small and limited is the accommodation, truly, when a family, with a pig, and perhaps ducks, live on board. The chances are in favour of drowning; but the male children are tied to the gunwale; the girls are let to go as they please, and if they disappear – it is "only a girl"! There is little care for life in China – of the natives, I mean – and least of all for female children.

The evening was drawing in, and I had not found any vessel on which I recognised the so-called "Japs." There were hundreds of ships of all sorts, and I was pleased to hear a hail in English from a clipper schooner as I was passing in the dusk.

I pulled alongside the vessel whence the "hail" had come, and, when close aboard, I recognised the speaker as a friend who had assisted me once or twice in the past when I had been unhappy and in need. His name was Eagan.

Glancing along the trim and natty decks of the schooner, I gained the gangway. The little ship was ready to put to sea, the anchor was already weighed, and the schooner was only fast to a buoy, for the breeze was light. I recognised the craft as a former smuggling vessel, and named Harada by her late owner. She traded in "natives" up the coast, and to Formosa, the Pescadores, and as far as Shanghai, or even farther north.

"Hallo! back again?" I cried, as I clasped Eagan's hand.

"Why, certainly," he replied; "think I'd scooted? What are you prowling about for?"

"Simple curiosity," I said. "Thanks, yes, I'll have a 'peg," I added, as he indicated refreshment by a nod in the direction of the cabin.

"A tidy berth this," I continued. "Suits you, anyway."

"Yes, not badly. What's your simple curiosity led you to? I can estimate the curiosity, but I don't see where the simplicity comes in."

"Really?" I asked, as I watched him mixing a soothing draught.

"No, really. What's your spot? What's your little game?"

"My game! I'm just sculling around – that's all."

"By accident. One of your freaks, o' course! Still acting on the Fêng Shui, I suppose?"

"Yes; but confirmed now – second."

"Ah! Going north yet?"

"Presently – I mean by and by. When do you sail again?"

"When I receive sailin' orders. Maybe to-morrow – maybe never."

"Come, Eagan, you're mysterious, for you! Your anchor's a-peak, and you are loosing sails. You are just off. What's the game? Whither bound – honour bright?"

He paused and looked at his tumbler, then raised it and looked at the lamp through the liquid the glass contained. He slowly brought his eyes back upon mine, and said —

"Honour it is! Chemulpo perhaps – Shanghai certain."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "I say, Eagan, what's your Jap up to?" He started and stared at me, then he replied —

"I say, Jule, what's your Chinese up to?"

"Rats," I replied. "What's the coil here?"

"Snakes," he retorted. "What's your notion?"

He suspected me; and I fancied that I had by accident hit upon the Coreans' vessel, or of the vessel they had chartered, perhaps.

I kept staring at the skipper; he was silently staring at me. Neither would say the word he was anxious to say. A pause ensued.

"Well," I said at length, "I must be off. No more, thanks. 'Pegs' are likely to upset one in the dark; anyway, they don't steady one."

"P'raps not," he replied. "Well, so-long, mate; we'll meet sometimes, I hope."

"Certain! I see your sails are loosed, Eagan. I'd better be going. Ta-ta!"

"Good-night. Hallo! where's your boat?"

I rushed to the side. My sampan and the boatman had disappeared.

"Hang it! I say, skipper, send me ashore, please," I cried anxiously. "We may sail by daybreak."

"I'm just as sorry as sin, but I can't. My dinghy's ashore, and I've no time to man another. I guess you'll have to wait a while."

"What do you mean? Remain here? I can't."

"Guess ye must, Jule boy, till morning. Say, there's a signal. That's my boss comin' alongside. Show lights!" he called out. "Gangway!"

Three or four men, dark-featured fellows, Chinese apparently, came abaft, and a European mate came up from the cabin somewhere.

I saw a light flashing from a boat which quickly came alongside the schooner. I walked to the counter and watched it. The occupants were two short men in the stern, two natives in the bow, and two sailors rowing.

The lanterns gleamed as the men stepped on deck from the stern-sheets of the boat. They were wrapped up, but I knew one of them. He was the quasi-Japanese officer whom my captain had spoken with. These men were escaping perhaps – whither? What plans had they been maturing – what plots had they been framing in British territory?

The foremost arrival did not notice me, the second did, – he I did not know at all, – but neither made any remark to me. The officer, as I may term him, turned to Eagan, and said in English, clearly —

"Stand out at once, please. Make for Shanghai direct."

Eagan nodded merely, and said, "All right, boss." Then he gave a few orders which the mate repeated, and in five minutes the schooner was passing out by the north channel.

"Eagan," I said, "where are you taking me? I must join my ship."

He shook his head, and went to the wheel himself, leaving me raging. I followed him.

"Do you hear?" I cried. "This is piracy. I'll give the alarm if you do not put me ashore. Hail a boat!"

"Just lie low, Jule. Wait till we reach Shanghai, you'll find the steamer there, I expect, and if not you can wire; so be easy, boy."

"I'll make a row for this!" I cried, feeling enraged with him.

"If ye do I'll put ye overboard. The crew are Chinese, and no one will care except me. So, keep still, and I'll land you safely up at Shanghai; best so, I tell ye."

"Then you are hired to carry these fellows; I see. There is something wrong here, Eagan, and you shouldn't do it."

"It's no business of mine, lad. I'm paid for the passage, and when they land it's finished. Your old screw will be in Shanghai before us. There's nothing wrong in the case so far as I see yet; I'll tell you more in a while. Go and have some supper."

I was very much annoyed by this departure, and began to grumble at the skipper; he only laughed at first, and then got angry in his turn, until the mate came aft and dragged me below, where we supped in amity.

"Take no notice of anything," said my new friend; "but, 'tween you and me, there's going to be trouble about this. For one of these chaps has been induced by the other to clear out of Victoria and to go to Shanghai. I can understand some of the lingo, and it's plain to me that the man named Oh Sing, or Kim, – I can't quite catch it, – is rather frightened of the boss, whose name is Lung. The Lung man won't let him out of his sight, and if a chance comes I suspect Mr. Lung will punish the other fellow."

"What's his object, then?" I asked.

"Can't say. Eagan is suspicious, too, of these Coreans. One fellow is evidently nervous, and keeps his Japanese servant near him all the time. The captain don't want any fuss on board this ship, you understand."

"Well, I shall say nothing. We shan't be long in reaching Shanghai, and there I can quit, eh?"

"Certainly – why yes, of course. Now, when you're finished, we shall go on deck. The captain will want to go down then, and you shall watch with me if you like. Keep your eyes skinned."

"You scent danger then?"

"In two ways. The glass is falling; that, after such a jumpy time as we've had, means tempest. You know that?"

I nodded, and he proceeded.

"Then, again, we must never leave these passengers to themselves, unless the weather's very bad, because there'll be trouble. If the weather's bad they'll all be sick, and near dead anyway. So let us pray for typhoon, mister."

"I shall not," was my reply. "When you see the barometer waltzing down to twenty-eight degrees or so you'll pray for something more interesting to yourself! Keep an eye upon the Coreans by all means, but watch the glass whatever you do."

We were strolling up and down the weather-side of the deck. The wind was off shore, and a bit abaft the beam. As we cleared the Channel we spun along the ripples, sending the "phosphorus" flying around the stern, and light-up the forepart to the chains. The sky was perfectly clear, and the mate hoped to reach Formosa quickly with such a breeze.

We were still strolling at four bells, ten o'clock, and then I felt inclined to turn in somewhere.

"Take my bunk in the inner cabin. If you hear anything, just let me or the skipper know. Those fellows have a game on if I am not mistaken; but no 'revenge' in this ship, I say."

He nodded at me significantly in the soft light by the binnacle. The steersman was a Lascar. The crew was composed of a variety of natives; but in the cold weather of the northern sea the Lascars were as dead – and died too.

"Good-night," I said. "I'll find my way."

I stepped softly down the stairs, and passed through the "saloon" or eating-cabin. I found the berth close by, and tumbled in by the dim light of a swinging candle-lamp of the spring-up pattern, as we used to call it. The company in the saloon had dispersed; the captain had quitted it some time before, and the two Coreans and the Japanese servant, who stuck to Oh Sing, parted. The man Lung, I fancied, disposed himself in the saloon. The other came and looked at me, and perceiving that I did not stir, he, after a pause, crawled out, hands and knees, on the floor, and vanished in the darkness outside the berth.

The wind was rising, the sea was following suit. I slept lightly as usual, when I was awakened by a breathing close to my face. I opened my eyes quickly, and started up.

A knife flashed in my face. I seized it, and shouted, "Help!"

At the moment I cried out I sprang up. Someone at the same time extinguished the already expiring lamp, and as I leaped upon the deck-floor I distinctly heard something retiring. I called again, and the captain came down into the dark and silent saloon.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Is that you, Mr. Julius? Had a bad dream, I reckon, eh? What are you doing here, anyway?"

He turned a ship's lantern upon my scared countenance as he was speaking.

"No; someone came into the berth and flashed a knife in my eyes. If I had not called out I would have been stabbed."

"Nonsense, nonsense," said the captain, who still blinked the light upon my alarmed looks. "There are no murderers here, lad. But tell me how you came in here; this berth belongs to the passengers."

"The mate told me I would find a bunk in his berth."

"Likely; but this isn't his. This belongs to one of my passengers – to Mr. Oh Sing."

"To him!" I exclaimed, recalling the hints of the mate. "Then perhaps somebody intended to stab him!"

The skipper looked at me steadily for quite half a minute, without speaking. Then he replied —

"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.