xclamations of astonishment and of dismay followed Mr. Kit-ze. "What can he mean?" asked Mr. Reid, his eyes fixed in wonder upon the fast-retreating form of his boatman. "He surely hasn't deserted us!"

"It evidently looks that way," replied Mr. Wilburn.

"Now we are in a box!" exclaimed Clarence. "How are we to go on without our sampan man?"

"Well, we have the sampan," remarked Mallard cheerfully. "The only other thing now is to look out for some one to take charge of it."

"Easier said than accomplished," commented Mr. Reid. "Besides, though Mr. Kit-ze has deserted us, yet the sampan is his. We can't take possession without his consent."

"He has forfeited his right to protest against such a step," declared Mr. Wilburn, "by his desertion and breach of contract. I am for taking possession of the sampan, engaging some one to have charge of it, assisted by Mr. Chefoo here, then allowing Mr. Kit-ze so much for its use."

"But a competent sampan man is hard to find," said Mr. Reid. "That was why I stuck to Mr. Kit-ze."

"Oh, but it is too bad to lose our trip!" exclaimed Mr. Wilburn, "especially when so much relating to our work depends on it," and he looked wistfully at Mr. Reid.

"Yes, too bad," assented Mallard.

"Oh, we must go," declared Clarence.

Even Helen and Dorothy were for going on, that is, if satisfactory arrangements could be made.

"But maybe Mr. Kit-ze will return," suggested Helen.

"Yes," said Mr. Chefoo, who now spoke for the first time, "he will return." All turned to look at him inquiringly. He had spoken very positively.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because, honorable sirs, he went away as one who will come back. There was no parting word. He will return."

"He didn't have sense for any parting word," commented Clarence. "It seemed all taken from him."

"No," asserted Mr. Chefoo, "it was only the excitement that comes when one knows there has been a loss."

"'A loss'!" echoed Clarence.

"Yes; Mr. Kit-ze has either lost something of very great value, for which he has now gone to make search, or else he has forgotten something that he has gone to bring. It is one or the other as you will in time discover, son of the honorable teacher."

"But why act in that demented way? Couldn't he have explained to us, and then gone after it in a respectable fashion?"

"It was something by which he set so great a store, youthful sir, that he was overcome by what its loss signified to him. I should say," continued Mr. Chefoo, "that it is something without which he could not proceed, or without which he——"

Here Mr. Chefoo paused.

"Well?" asked Clarence.

"Without which he would fear to go on."

"I see!" exclaimed Mr. Reid. "It was——"

"Let me finish, father," cried Clarence. "It was the red miriok. That old crank has either left it or lost it. Now we must be tied up here waiting his pleasure."

"Yes," said Mr. Reid in a disgusted manner, "it was the red miriok that carried him off in that demented way; I am sure of it. But don't call him a crank so boldly, Clarence. It would offend him should he hear it."

"Well, what else is he? It is just too bad to be deserted in this way and for such silliness. Oh, I wish that the red miriok was in the bottom of the river."

"Then, we'd never get Mr. Kit-ze to proceed," assured Mr. Wilburn, who by this time had heard the story of the red miriok; "or at least not until its counterpart was procured. But we can't stay here," he continued. "We must, at least, try getting on to the next village. There Mr. Kit-ze can join us. We'll leave word for him. This is a very objectionable locality for more reasons than one, and the sooner we move away from it the better."

In the meanwhile a large crowd had gathered, both on the river bank and in the shallow water surrounding the sampan. All were agape with curiosity. It is a well-known saying in Korea, and one the truth of which travelers have often proved, that if you move on, very little comment is excited; but if you stand still and appear to be engaged in anything, or even to be looking at an object, curiosity of the most intense kind is aroused. It takes but a minute or two then for the crowd to gather around you, each individual member thereof following anxiously the glance of your eye and hanging with almost breathless intent upon every movement of hand or leg.

There were women and children in the crowd as well as men. The former were so overcome by their curiosity that they had for the time forgotten to keep their long, green coats close up about their eyes, which is the custom when women are abroad in Korea. They now hung loosely about their necks, the long, wide sleeves that are rarely used swinging over their shoulders.

An old woman with much vigor of speech offered them barley sugar for sale. She was very dirty, and her wares looked as uninviting as herself. But feeling sorry for her, Helen invested quite liberally in the barley sugar, immediately bestowing it upon a little group of open-mouthed children who stood near. In some way the old woman had caught a part, at least, of the situation. She seemed to comprehend that they were at a loss whether to go on or to stay. In return for Helen's graciousness she came to the rescue by suggesting that they send for a mutang (sorceress) who lived near. She would come with her drum and cymbals, her wand and divination box,[1] and in a little while she could tell them what to do.

The sun was now climbing nearer and nearer the meridian, and its rays were growing unpleasantly warm. More than an hour had been wasted since the loading of the sampan. They had burned the bridge behind them, as the saying is, by sending the man back to the city with the ponies. There was nothing now but to go on, even if they had to turn back in the midst of the journey.

Mr. Chefoo was the good fairy that came to the rescue. He seemed to regret Mr. Kit-ze's behavior keenly, and to be deeply sympathetic with the sampan party in its desire so plainly expressed to be off on the journey. He was a big, good-natured fellow, strong and hearty looking, with a clear eye and with much intelligence expressed upon his face. He had too, a pretty fair scope of English, which made his attendance all the more satisfactory and agreeable.

Mr. Kit-ze, he continued to assure them, would return. He felt certain of it. They would leave word for him and proceed to the next town, since this one was so objectionable with its foul smells and its rather rough-looking population. The first step then, was to hire a man to help him pole, as he felt certain he, Mr. Chefoo, could direct the movements of the sampan up to the next village. There were no rapids of any considerable danger in the way.

"All right, Mr. Chefoo," said Mr. Reid. "Go ahead and hire your man, but be sure he is one on whom we can rely."

"I'll have a care to that, honorable teacher," assured Mr. Chefoo.

The first man approached declared that he couldn't go, as his wife needed him to sit and watch her while she washed the clothes. The second one said he must first ask his mother and, as she lived two villages away, they must wait until the following morning ere he could give them his answer. The third wished to know if he would be permitted to take as many as seven suits of clothes with him, as he could do with no less; also if provision would be made for their washing and ironing along the way. On being assured that no such concession could be granted he went away much aggrieved.

Another said he would gladly attend them as their poleman if they would promise not to tie up anywhere along the bank where there were tigers, or even where tigers were known to have been on the surrounding hills. As they could give no such promise with the prospect of fulfilling it, he too had to be dismissed without an engagement. He then tried to drive a sale with them of two tiger bones at three hundred "cash" each, warranted to give strength and courage. As they hadn't the faith he had in the efficacy of the commodity, the purchase was declined. Another hour and more slipped by in this way.

Things were growing lively, if they were somewhat monotonous, for a great crowd was now surging about Mr. Chefoo, Mr. Reid, and Mr. Wilburn. The boatman had them with him for the purpose of consultation. To add to the hubbub a string of oxen and their drivers on their way to the city, the backs of the oxen piled with mountains of brushwood, had drawn near the men, the drivers overcome by curiosity at the sight of the crowd. Between their yells and shouts to the oxen and their noisy salutations passed to those they knew, there was a babel indeed.

In the very midst of these sounds came a sudden cry, sufficiently loud and prolonged to attract the attention of many. While the bargaining with the would-be polemen went on, the young people had gathered within the sitting room of the sampan, that is, all with the exception of Clarence. He had stretched himself along the stern of the boat. His head was lying on his hand upheld by the elbow. Thus it was considerably elevated, and thus he had a fair view of the water all around the sampan.

The Han is often called the River of Golden Sands. It is a clear, bright stream, its bed covered with thick layers of white sand. Along this sand particles of golden-hued gravel sparkle in the sunlight as though they were the pure metal itself. In many places, even of considerable depth, the bottom of the river is plainly seen. Where the sampan lay there was only the depth of about two feet of water. This had for a time been stirred into some degree of murkiness by the feet of those who pressed curiously about the sampan. But as the crowd had now withdrawn to the bank, where Mr. Chefoo bargained with the polemen, the river had cleared.

As Clarence lay along the stern of the boat glancing down into the water, his attention was suddenly attracted by something that rested at the top of a little hillock of sand. First its shape, then its color arrested his gaze. The next moment there came that wild shout from him, a compromise between a station-master's train call and an Indian warwhoop. Then those whose attention was now riveted upon him saw him hastily throw off his coat, his shoes and stockings and, quickly rolling up sleeves and trousers, spring into the water. An instant later he held up something in his hand, his shirt sleeve dripping with the water.

"The red miriok!" he cried. "See! Mr. Kit-ze must have dropped it as he leaned over packing the things."

Yes, it was the red miriok.

"Oh, its eyes are shinier than ever!" cried Joyce. "Guess that's cause the water washed 'em. It's the same horrid, ugly thing I've seen Mr. Kit-ze pressing in his hands."

"Oh," said Helen, "if Mr. Kit-ze could only know!" Even as she spoke, Mr. Kit-ze was seen coming rapidly toward the river.