Alone, unarmed, in a strange country, at night, and pursued by enemies, the boys stood for a time to consider their next steps. Fortunately, at that moment the moon began to shine more brightly, and they saw at the distance of some few hundred yards the giant form of a pagoda rising from the summit of a hill, with its quaint polygon form, varnished green tiles, and gilded bells hanging from every point.

"Truly the gods have directed our footsteps to a resting-place till the morning," said Chow.

This was indeed a fortunate discovery, for, knowing that most of the pagodas were untenanted, they might hide there; and with lightened hearts they walked onward, till they came to a valley, or cemetery, filled with tombs, and through which they walked till they came to the base of a hill, at the top of which was the entrance to the pagoda. Having reached one of the gates, they found it locked, a difficulty that was soon surmounted by Chow, who cast his lantern toward one of the windows of the lower story, and, as he expected, found that, like the majority of these quaint structures, this one was in ruins; so, by means of the shoulder of Nicholas, he climbed through a window, and speedily opened the gate, when they found themselves in an apartment lined with black varnished tiles, nearly all of which were carved with gilded idols.

"Thank Heaven, we are safe from the rats," said Nicholas.

"And may sleep, O my master," said the fatigued Chow, laying himself at full length upon the floor, an example that was speedily followed by Nicholas, who, like Chow, notwithstanding the danger that surrounded them, fell into a sound sleep.

These singular, and frequently beautiful buildings, towering upward in various heights upon the rising grounds, like an unequally grown forest of quaint spires, form the chief characteristic in Chinese scenery. As if the builders believed luck to be found in odd numbers, they are either of seven, nine, or thirteen stories, and moreover, all shaped from the model of the famous Tower of Nankin, which, after an existence of nine hundred years, has so recently been wantonly destroyed by the iconoclastic insurgents, who are, at the present time, making every effort for the extermination of the Mantchou Tartars.

As for the origin of these structures, it is of so remote a date, that, even in four thousand years old China, there is as much difference of opinion as about the origin of the round towers of Ireland. Some of the learned writers assert that they were erected monumentally to great and good people, others that they were intended as watch-towers in time of war.

A very probable theory is that they are of Indian origin, having been introduced by the priests of Buddha, for the purpose of saving the holy relics, thumbs, fingers, toes, or any other portions of the body of the god that might from time to time be found, or rather palmed upon the superstitious people by the bonzes. By way of illustrating this theory, I will relate to you some of the popular legends. The first is really a wild-goose story.

The primitive Buddhists of India were not under such strict rules of diet as the sect afterward became; that is, not vegetarians, but at liberty to eat veal, venison, and goose flesh. Well, it happened that on a certain day, as a party of priests were seated in the open air, a brace of wild geese flew above them, which caused them to exclaim, "Our wish is that these fowls would do a benevolent act," when one of the birds immediately dropped down dead. Upon which remarkable event, the priests cried, "This goose brings down a prohibition to abstain from flesh; we must therefore consider its meritorious act." Whereupon they erected a building over the poor goose, which they called pagoda, which word, translated from the Indian word, tsang-po, into Chinese, is equivalent to wild goose.

Of this same pagoda, which still exists, another legend is given.

"Nearly six hundred years after the introduction of Buddhism into China, a priest of the sect was sent to India to collect and translate into the Chinese language the sacred books of Budd. On his return with the volumes, he brought also a model of a pagoda; in commemoration of which, and also as a receptacle for the sacred books, the Emperor erected a pagoda." If this legend is true, and it certainly is more probable than any of the others, it is curious, as during the reign of this same Emperor, in the year 636, a Christian teacher first came from India to China, and was not only encouraged by the Emperor, but was authorised by a royal decree to preach Christianity among the people.

Another legend states that in the year 256 a foreign priest of the Buddhist religion appeared at the capital, and performed many strange and supernatural feats, which, reaching the ears of the Emperor, caused him to send for the priest, of whom he inquired if Buddha could communicate any divine emblems. The priest replied, that Buddha had left some traces of himself on earth, particularly bone relics, which possessed miraculous powers. The Emperor, scarcely believing the story, told the priest that if any such bone could be found, he would erect a great pagoda. To this the story goes on to say, that the priest, twenty-one days after, brought one of the god's bones in a bottle, and presented it to his majesty, and that when taken into the palace, it lighted up the whole building. Then comes the most astonishing portion of the legend. In his haste to inspect this wonderful bone, the Emperor turned it out of the bottle, into a large copper vessel, when the bone, probably a leg bone, of its own accord kicked the massive basin with such violence that it became shivered into a thousand pieces. This, you would imagine, was in all conscience sufficiently prodigious to weaken his majesty's nerves. The priest, however insisted upon exhibiting another wonder, telling the emperor that so matchless were the qualities of this bone, that diamond or steel could not scratch it, fire could not scorch it, nor the heaviest hammer smash it; indeed, to injure this precious bone in any way would be to perform one of the labors of Hercules. This, however, was too much for the belief of the Emperor, and so he ordered his stoutest blacksmith to take his heaviest hammer and make the attempt; the priest, however got the best of it, for no sooner did the hammer touch the bone than it crumbled into atoms, when, probably, in delight at its success, this clever bone shone with such effulgence that it weakened the eyes of all beholders. After this the monarch wanted no more proof of the godship of Buddha, kept his promise, and built the first pagoda in China.

Most of these legends have a close connection with Buddhism and its priests; it is, therefore, most probable that these pagodas have, from their introduction into China in the middle of the first century of the Christian era, been used in connection with the bonzes. This opinion is entertained by the learned Chinese scholar, the Rev. Mr. Milne, who says, "Among the Chinese themselves it is a common saying. In pagodas they save and preserve the family of Buddha. Usually priests of this order are in charge of the pagoda, and sit at the doors of the most famous and frequented, to receive gratuities from visitors. Pagodas are situated generally on Buddhists' lands, and there are in their vicinity, or around their base, temples or monasteries for Buddhist priests. Within those pagodas that are at all in a state of preservation, Buddhist idols, relics, pictures, and books are deposited. The histories of these buildings throughout the empire, at least the earliest of them, are crammed with Buddhist tales and fictions." So interesting are these extraordinary monuments of antiquity, as being the probable and supposed depositories of Buddhist writings and Indian documents, which, should they ever be brought to light will not only throw a light upon the early intercourse between China and Hindostan, but elucidate the mystery which now hangs over the history of the religion of ancient India, a matter of importance to every intelligent being, that at the risk of being tedious, I could not forbear having a little gossip with my young reader on the subject. But now to return to our young heroes.