  That overland journey of more than eight hundred miles by elephant train is well worth describing, yet it has so little real bearing upon this story that I shall pass it over as briefly as possible. In spite of our fears, Mai Lo treated us with great respect during this journey, and the escort showed us the same consideration that they did the mandarin. Elephant riding isn’t at all disagreeable when you get used to the swaying motion, and as we were sailors we quickly accustomed ourselves to the amble of the big beasts. But to ride day after day is decidedly tedious, and we were glad whenever a halt was called and we could stretch our legs. During the first stage of our journey, which was through a densely settled country, we made little more than thirty miles a day. But when we reached Min-Kwa, which is on a shallow tributary of the Yang-tse, we exchanged our elephants for horses—fine, spirited beasts—which enabled us to make much better time. We now headed directly northwest, on a beeline from the Himalayas, and I noticed that as we proceeded not only the character of the country but that of the people changed. The placid, indifferent countenances of the peasants were replaced by darker, fiercer features; for here were the descendants of the Tartar horde that once over-ran and conquered the Chinese. Also the women, instead of being small and insignificant in appearance, and mild and docile in character, were handsome, powerful creatures whose every action displayed energy and grace. I could not help admiring them, although their glances denoted bitter hatred of the foreigners—a feeling common throughout the Empire. The broad, smooth road—a magnificent thoroughfare, that would shame the best of our American boulevards—sometimes lay through dense forests of splendid trees, and again twined its way amid groves of bamboo; but usually we passed through fields that were under cultivation. It surprised me to observe the perfection of utility that pervaded the country on every hand, until I remembered that here was the most ancient civilization in the world. There were no waste places; the numerous population demanded that every acre be cultivated. Stately walls of excellent construction are used to divide the land, instead of the frail fences we set up, and the bridges over dry streams or gullies would excite the envy and admiration of our modern engineers. All the land required irrigation, and Mai Lo informed me during one of our conversations that the system of irrigation now employed dated back more than two thousand years, and was still so satisfactory that it could not be improved upon. “When America adopts our plan,” said the mandarin, “irrigation will be a success there; but not before. I have seen your methods, and they are very imperfect.” Chinese fruits were plentiful and cheap. Six big, delicious pears could be purchased for one cash—about one-tenth of a cent; and bunches of finger-shaped grapes as big as one’s head we bought for two cash. Mai Lo kept us well supplied with fruit, and indeed we fared luxuriously throughout the entire journey. Always at night the mandarin selected a native house and turned the inhabitants out that we might use it for our own accommodation. I suppose his authority as a governor allowed him to do such arbitrary things, for even the fierce Tartars humbly submitted to his will. Sometimes we passed the night at villages, where there may be always found comfortable inns; but wherever we slept Nux and Bryonia by turns guarded the slumbers of us three Americans, while the withered little imp of a Chinaman who rode with Mai Lo upon his elephant performed the duty of guarding the mandarin. Mai Lo seemed to trust us as little as we trusted him, yet we all realized it would be folly to come to open warfare at this time. If anything happened to us, it would not be until we were at Kai-Nong; we were quite sure of that. So, for the present we slept as placidly as if on board our own beautiful Seagull. Only one disagreeable incident occurred in this portion of our journey. Sometimes, when we camped early, our native escort amused themselves with games; perhaps to restore their circulation after long periods of riding. The most popular of these games was one called “shipsu.” In playing it two men had to grasp tightly a short bamboo rod with both hands and then try to throw one another without releasing hold of the bamboo. Any trick was allowable in this novel wrestling-match except taking the hands from the bamboo, and it was therefore a rough-and-tumble in which strength and skill were required. Usually our men played shipsu among themselves, but one evening in an inn yard where we were all watching the game, surrounded by a throng of villagers, a sturdy Manchu offered to cope with one of Mai Lo’s men and the challenge was accepted. The struggle was long and interesting, and the combatants jostled the bystanders by abrupt turns and side leaps. Finally the Manchu hurled his antagonist to the ground, causing him to release his hold of the rod. With a shout of victory the Manchu whirled the rod above his head and then, happening to find himself near Bryonia, our tall South Sea Islander, who had been silently looking on, the fellow struck him a deliberate blow upon his head. Bry’s fist shot out and the Manchu went sprawling upon the ground, while a roar of rage went up from the bystanders. Knives glistened all around us and our Chinese escort promptly surrounded our little party and faced the natives expectantly. But Mai Lo waived his hand, and to my astonishment the escort melted away and left our black to face his enraged enemies alone. “Why did you do that, Mai Lo?” I demanded, angrily, while the natives, perhaps suspecting some trick, hesitated to attack Bry. “Your man has committed a crime; he must die, and perhaps the other black will die with him,” replied the governor, calmly. While I stood dumfounded at this assertion I heard Joe say: “Be careful, Mai Lo. Archie is behind you with his revolver pointed at your head. If anyone lays hands upon our black it will be the signal for your own death.” Mai Lo did not look around. He did not shrink or pale or display fear. But he promptly waved his hand again and the escort once more closed around us. Then the governor addressed the crowd in Chinese, and talked volubly for a long time. In a language where it requires two hundred syllables to say “good morning” it is probable that Mai Lo’s address was brief and to the point; anyhow, the sullen crowd melted away and left us alone, and soon after we entered the inn and went to bed. The incident was not referred to again on either side, but it proved to us how readily the governor was prepared to sacrifice any members of our party, and so weaken our numbers, and it warned us to be constantly upon our guard. I did not doubt but that Mai Lo had some plan in mind to circumvent us when we got to Kai-Nong, and doubtless he was confident of success; but we refused to be panic-stricken. “It looks as if we were in the dragon’s jaws,” remarked Archie, one day, with a yawn. “I don’t mind that,” replied Joe, “if we can keep the dragon from biting.” “Nor I. But sometimes it looks dubious to me. We’re about fifteen hundred miles in the enemy’s country, and the world has lost all track of us. Perhaps——” “Perhaps, what?” I asked, impatiently. “Perhaps the noble physician was wise, after all.” “Look here, Archie. What’s the use of crying before you’re hurt?” “It’s my only chance,” said he, with a grin. “If Mai Lo gets his work in, I shan’t be able to howl.” |
|
