In the "early days" a gallant ship left the harbor of Hong Kong, in the land of the Celestials, bound for the port of San Francisco.

Among the emigrants was a young China boy, of the better class, whose father and mother had both died suddenly, leaving to their son only the memory of the happy days of the past, over which a fleeting prosperity and paternal love had cast the halo of perpetual sunshine.

His father was a merchant, supposed to be immensely wealthy, but after the debts of the house were paid Ching Chong found himself alone in the world, and very destitute.

One evening as he walked out through the suburbs of the city, he met a merchant who had been a great friend of his father. The old gentleman stopped the boy, and kindly inquired what he was doing, and how he had been getting along since his father's death.

Ching Chong was feeling very desolate, and at these expressions of interest the unbidden tears began to flow down his cheeks, till, unable to restrain himself, he bowed his face upon his hands, and sobbed as if his heart would break.

The old man gave him time to recover himself and when the boy dashed the tears proudly away with the back of his hand, trying to call up the dawning manhood in his heart, he said: "I will help you, you are the son of the friend of my youth, you shall be my son."

He took the young Ching Chong by the hand, kindly, led him home to his own house, and provided him with the best instruction the city afforded.

At the age of fifteen, Ching Chong was as handsome and intelligent a boy as could be found in the city of Hong Kong.

One day his benefactor called him to him, and told him of the distant gold land. "There, my son," he said, "you shall go to seek your fortune. I will provide you with every thing necessary for the journey, but you must keep a strict account, and at the end of five years return, and share the gains with me."

"If you do well in all things, I will reward you doubly, for I love you as my own son."

Here the merchant embraced him so tenderly, that the eyes of Ching Chong were moistened with tears of gratitude.

Then the merchant gave him much good advice, which the young Ching Chong promised faithfully to follow.

As the dusk of evening came on, both grew thoughtful and silent; at last the old man took the boy's hand in his, saying: "I have been thinking of a curious legend which our fathers believed."

Then he told him how years before two Chinamen, a giant and a dwarf, went out into the great world, far beyond the shining waters, to seek their fortune together. How, after a weary time and great labor, they found a cavern full of gold and precious stones, but at the entrance sat two men guarding the treasure.

The Chinamen were very cold and hungry, and the two men gave them food and warm blankets, but they would not allow them to touch even one of the lustrous gems that sparkled around them.

At last the Chinamen went away quite rested, and with plenty of food in their sacks. They had gone only a short distance down the caÑon, when in the darkest shadow the giant stopped.

"Let us rest here," he said, "and talk over our plans for the future. There is a great treasure near us, I am strong, you are active, and we are separated from our wishes by only two men of ordinary strength."

The dwarf sighed heavily. "They have been kind to us, but for them we must have died of hunger."

"Fool," replied the giant, "there is enough for all."

Then it was they sat talking till the stronger prevailed over the weaker, and, at the still hour of midnight, they went back to the cavern of gold.

The dwarf had begged hard for the lives of the men, but the cruel giant was obdurate.

"Let them die," he said, "and the treasure will be ours."

In the darkness he struck the blow, but instead of falling upon the men, as he had intended, he struck the stone on which their heads had rested. A harsh ringing sound resounded through the cavern, and suddenly a great light flashed up, and almost blinded them, so that they covered their eyes with their hands.

When a moment after they glanced fearfully around, they saw not two common men, but two horrid monsters. Whether immense giants or genii, they could not tell, but the giant Chinaman before them seemed but a boy in size.

The poor Chinamen trembled with fear, and begged the monsters to spare their lives.

"I did not wish to kill you," said the dwarf. "Oh, dear! have pity! have pity! and he clasped his little hands imploringly; while his teeth chattered with the intensity of his fear.

"You would have robbed us," replied the monster, "and for this you shall be punished."

Then he laid a spell upon them, condemning them to remain far from their beloved China. Wandering through the gold land, and finding treasures, but never possessing them.

To the dwarf he said, "because the good had not all gone out of your heart, you may be permitted to aid the future gold-seekers, and they shall be blessed by your guidance. But a curse shall follow the gifts of the giant, and his bones shall bleach upon the mountains of the stranger land."

"Strive by deeds of kindness, poor dwarf," he continued, "to wipe out the stain of this present great sin of your life, so that at last, when you die, your body may be wafted to the pleasant shore of the celestial country."

Then he drove them out of the cave, and they began their weary wanderings. The giant filled with angry bitterness, and the heart of the dwarf subdued and penitent.

For some time after the merchant had finished his story, Ching Chong sat in silence. At last he exclaimed, eagerly, "who knows but they are now in the gold-land to which I am going."

"I had thought of that," answered the old man. "It may be all a myth, but as you say 'who knows!' At all events there is no harm in my saying, beware of the giant, and look out for the dwarf."

Just as the ship was about sailing, the merchant gave to Ching Chong a curious black wand, saying, "this is a divining-rod, and will help you to find the treasure. Remember all I have said to you. Especially beware of the giant."

Again Ching Chong promised, and they embraced with much affection.

At last the signal was given, the anchor weighed, and the merchant hastened on shore, to look out upon the waters, till Ching Chong, leaning over the railing of the deck, faded from his sight.

Thus Ching Chong became a gold-seeker, and many were the gorgeous dreams that filled the mind of the youth, as the ship sailed lazily over the placid waters.

At last, after the usual amount of winds and calms, storms and fair weather, the good ship sailed through the Golden Gate, and into the pleasant harbor of San Francisco.

Ching Chong disembarked with the other passengers, a stranger in a land of strangers, where even the language of the country fell upon his ear, the unmeaning jargon of an unknown tongue.

Fortunately for him, he was not the only Chinaman in the country, though at that early day they were few in number. The Queen city of the Pacific was then a city of many sand hills, and a few poor shanties, but it was full of energy, perseverance, and hope.

Ching Chong was a quick, active lad, and soon learned enough of English to procure a situation, and for some time remained in San Francisco.

At night, when his work was over, he would take a look at his divining-rod, and he often noticed it would turn in his hand, till it pointed to the mountain country, awaking all the wild dreams, and eager longings that in the leisure hours of the sea-voyage filled his imagination.

At last he could resist the impulse no longer, and joined a party of prospectors for the mining districts.

For months Ching Chong wandered over the mountains with his comrades, till his shoes were worn out, and his trousers and blue shirt so patched with flour-sacks, that it was impossible for the uninitiated to distinguish the original material.

Still he found nothing, even the divining-rod seemed to have lost its power, save when he was alone.

One night he sat apart from the others, feeling very sad, and wishing he had never left China. The homesick longing to see his native land growing continually in his heart, oppressed him greatly.

The thought of the kind old merchant who had been as a father to him, pursued him, but deeper down in his heart was cherished the memory of the merchant's daughter. The gentle Ah Zore maiden with the almond-shaped eyes, and tiny feet.

Just as he was yielding himself to tender dreams, his wand rested upon his bosom, and there he felt his secret talisman, the divining-rod.

Rising up hastily, he resolved to go off alone, and yield to the impulse of the wand. Hoping he might be more successful than in the weary months he had passed with his companions.

With this resolve, the pressure of the rod became greater, awaking joyous hopes that had long been strangers to him.

He thought of the curious legend the merchant had told him, and whispering softly to himself, he said: "Where the wand leads I will go—on to fortune, or death; any thing is better than the weariness of my present life."

It was a beautiful, balmy night. The silvery moonlight and the stars brightened even the dim cavern, and flooded the mountains with a luminous beauty.

Ching Chong went silently up the mountain path until he came to a ledge the miners had been prospecting that day.

Still the divining-rod urged him on, till he had gone miles farther into the mountains than ever before.

About twelve o'clock, he began to be hungry and weary, for it was the early evening when he started, and after a hard day's work.

Suddenly the divining-rod changed, and pointed downward, and as Ching Chong looked, he saw what appeared to be the entrance of a cavern, but a huge stone was rolled against it.

He perceived a small opening which the stone left uncovered, through which he might have crept, but the darkness within was so dense that he dare not enter.

He threw himself down upon the ground quite overcome with hunger and fatigue, and taking a piece of hard bread from his pocket, began eating, and thinking almost hopelessly of the future.

He was aroused by a harsh voice, and looking up, saw, just before him, the immense form of a giant Chinaman.

"What are you doing here, countryman," said the giant, opening his huge mouth, and glaring with his ugly eyes upon the startled boy.

"I am thinking of home," replied Ching Chong, sadly, "and fearing I shall never see that dearest spot again."

"Thank God, the bodies of all true Chinamen are carried back to repose in death in the bosom of their mother-land."

"Do you mean to insult me, minion," cried the giant, while his face grew livid with rage, and he would have killed Ching Chong with one blow of his heavy club, but the boy sprang lightly out of his way.

"Foiled again," he muttered, between his teeth. "Come here, boy," he added, "I will not hurt you, silly fool."

"I was only joking, just to see you jump out of the way;" and he gave a loud laugh that made the mountains echo.

The rod in his bosom urging him on, Ching Chong drew cautiously near the giant.

"Sit down, and tell me of your wanderings," said the monster, with a rough voice, into which he tried to throw the semblance of kindness.

Ching Chong told him all, only omitting the merchant's story and his secret of the wand.

"Never mind, boy," said the giant, "you shall win the prize, and go back to China a rich man. See, the morning sun is rising. Now we will enter the cavern, and you shall have as much gold and precious stones as you can carry away."

Ching Chong felt a momentary thrill of joy in his heart, which was saddened by the memory of the merchant's last words, "beware of the giant."

"I have wandered in this cold, stranger land for three long years, and found nothing until now.

"Wealth is within my grasp; if I do not seize it, I may never have another chance! To be poor forever! No! no! I will take the risk." Then he spoke aloud, in a resolute voice, "Lead on, I will follow."

The giant gave the great stone a push with his foot, and rolled it away as though it had been a pebble.

As they entered he struck a torch, then, before proceeding, rolled back the stone and closed up the opening.

When Ching Chong saw himself shut into the cave with the giant, he trembled with fear, for he saw there was no way of escape. He felt now, he had only to follow where the monster at will might lead him.

They went through a long, narrow passage, then down many steps, until at last they entered a hall, which was lighted by a large lamp, suspended from the dome of the cavern.

Ching Chong was almost blinded by the reflection of the luminous crystals that, with curious prismatic effect, flooded the hall with a hundred glowing tints.

Great masses of gold lay scattered about, and huge seams ran through the rugged sides of the cavern.

"Is this rich enough for you?" said the giant, laughingly.

"Help yourself, lad, you remember I told you you should have all you could carry away."

The delighted Ching Chong began to gather up the gold and precious stones into his sack, and when he had secured all he could carry, throwing the sack over his shoulder, he thanked the giant, and begged him to let him go out of the cave.

"Go on!" replied the giant, with a mocking laugh. "You're welcome to the treasure, but I'm thinking you'll find it hard work to move that stone from the mouth of the cave."

Then Ching Chong threw down the treasure at his feet, crying, with tears in his eyes, "Take back your riches, and let me go out into the sunshine! the beautiful sunshine! Oh! good giant, take back your gold, and give me my poverty, and my liberty!"

"What a pretty actor! go on! go on!" said the delighted giant, and when Ching Chong threw himself on his knees before him, wringing his hands in silent despair, he laughed till the mountain cavern rung.

"Do you think I will let you go? You are my slave now! and the sunshine! the beautiful sunshine! you shall never see again."

Ching Chong saw there was no help for him then.

He spurned the bag of gold and precious stones, pushing it with his foot, as he followed the giant into the inner cave.

The giant ordered him to build a fire, and prepare supper, and, after the master was served, he was permitted to eat and go to sleep upon the rough but warm skin of a grizzly bear.

Weeks passed by! Still he was a prisoner in the cavern, serving the grim old giant, who was very capricious, and hard to please.

One evening he came home in great good humor, and, while he ate his supper, he talked and laughed with Ching Chong very pleasantly.

He told how that day he had given a quantity of gold to some miners.

"Great luck it will bring them," he added.

"Already they are quarreling over it," and a malicious grin disfigured his monstrous face.

"'Tis such fools as you, boy, who make things lively. Ha! ha! You may have all the gold you can carry away!

"Why don't you move the stone? Ah! boy, if you had the famous divining-rod, you would only have to touch the rock, and it would obey your wish, but you might as well hope to wake up in your beloved China, as to obtain it."

How strangely the words of the giant thrilled the heart of Ching Chong, and, pressing his hand against his bosom, the famous divining-rod awakened the hopes that in his heart lay sleeping.

In the excess of his emotion he was obliged to hide his face from the giant, lest he should see his secret written there.

That night after the loud snoring of the giant announced that he was sleeping soundly, Ching Chong rose carefully, and lighting the torch, crept softly out of the large cave, and through the narrow passage that led to the entrance.

He took nothing with him. "The treasure of the giant is cursed," he said.

When he came to the rock he took the divining-rod from his bosom, and, pressing it lightly against the rock, said: "Giant rock remove quickly at the spell of the divining-rod."

Quick as thought the rock moved from its place, and the silver moonlight poured in at the entrance of the cave, and lighted up the face of Ching Chong, beaming with the bliss of recovered liberty.

Once more he touched the rock, saying: "Move back giant rock at the spell of the the divining-rod, and remain forever so firmly fixed that even the giant's powerful hand cannot remove you."

The great stone rolled back, striking the ledge with such force that the whole mountain shook, and the mighty echo was reverberated from all the neighboring heights.

This great commotion aroused the sleeping giant, and he called loudly for Ching Chong, and, when he received no answer, he was very much enraged, and searched the whole cavern in every nook and corner. At last he rushed to the entrance, and pushed his broad shoulder against the rock, but he could not move it one inch from its place; then he became so furious that his voice sounded like the roar of a wild beast, but with all his efforts he could not move the rock. Ching Chong sat without in the calm moonlight, now and then calling to the giant to come on, and that he was welcome to all the treasure he could bring with him.

After a time the giant became so exhausted that he ceased his efforts to move the rock, and begged Ching Chong to touch it again with his magic wand, and let him out, promising him all the treasures of the cave; but the boy only replied: "Your turn has come now, keep your treasure, you are welcome to it, and to your underground castle."

"Good-by, kind master, good-by! Come out when you can, and you may have all the treasure you can carry."

With this Ching Chong started for his old cabin, but for miles the deep howlings of the giant were wafted to his ears.

He reached the cabin at sunrise, just five weeks after he left it.

When he entered he found his old companions just eating breakfast. They were greatly surprised to see him, for they supposed he had been killed by the grizzly bears with which that district abounded.

They gave him a hearty greeting, and he sat down to breakfast, telling them only the last of his marvelous adventures, omitting the secret of the divining-rod entirely.

When he had finished, he asked them what luck they had had.

Nothing very good, they replied. Some placer diggings of a little promise, but their fortunes were not yet made.

Ching Chong went out with them, and entered again upon the hard life of prospecting. Many months passed on in the same old way, and again Ching Chong began to feel very much disheartened. Four years and a half had gone, and still he was poor, no nearer the realization of his dreams than ever.

The intense longing for home was ever gnawing in his heart. He thought sadly of the old merchant who awaited his return, and sighed often as he dreamed of the beautiful Ah Zore.

Again he resolved to follow the guiding of the divining-rod, hoping for greater success than in his former expedition.

Again he started at nightfall, without saying any thing to his companions.

He had provided himself with a sack of food, which he carried, with his pick and shovel, upon his shoulders.

He was young, healthy, and accustomed to the hardships of a mountain life.

For hours he walked on as the divining-rod guided him, until near morning, when, overcome with fatigue, he threw himself upon the ground among the thick sage brush, and soon fell asleep.

A thousand golden imaginings mingled with his dreams, and, when he awoke with the sunshine pouring its flood of warmth and light upon him, he rose full of bright hopes, ate his scanty breakfast, and started upon his way with a happy heart.

Thus he wandered on for several days, carefully examining every ledge of rocks that he passed over.

His stock of food was nearly exhausted. The divining-rod and his hopeful nature urged him on, but his dread of a lonely death in the mountains warned him to return.

One night he struck a fire in a lonely place, and sat down to eat his supper, just as the twilight gave place to the stars of night.

He was getting quite disheartened. "I must start for the camp in the morning," he said to himself, "'Tis no use of trying any longer."

He fell into a sad train of musing, from which he was aroused by the soft tinkling of a silver bell, and looking up he saw before him the dwarf Chinaman.

He wore the round hat, blue blouse, big pants, and pointed shoes of the Celestials, and his words fell upon Ching Chong's ear in the language of his native tongue. His face was wrinkled and sad-looking, yet there was a kindliness in its expression, and Ching Chong's heart warmed as he pleasantly asked, "Why so sorrowful to-night, my boy?"

Then Ching Chong told his story.

When he had finished the dwarf said: "Be thankful that you did not attempt to carry away any of the treasure."

"If you had taken but one ounce of gold the wand would have lost its power in your hand, and you would have been the slave of the giant as long as you lived, and after death your bones would have whitened the floor of the mountain cavern, instead of reposing in the dear native land."

"Your industry and perseverance shall now be rewarded. Lie down and sleep to-night upon this soft turf. In the morning rise and follow the direction of the divining-rod, and where it points downward strike your pick."

"Now good-night, my boy. In the days of your prosperity, sometimes think kindly of the poor dwarf of the mountains."

Before Ching Chong could reply, he found himself alone, and though he looked round carefully, he could not discover where, or how the dwarf had disappeared. So he lay down, and was soon sleeping soundly.

In the morning he rose early, and following the direction of his wand, stopped where it pointed downward, and striking a blow with his pick, turned up a beautiful pure nugget of gold.

He marked the spot, and collecting a few specimens, returned to the camp.

Again his companions surrounded him to hear his story.

No one but the poor, toiling miner can understand the excitement and delight of the weary prospectors, as they listened to him, and examined his specimens.

"Now, boys," said Ching Chong, "you have been the sharers of my bad luck, and you shall share my good fortune."

"There is gold enough for all."

Then the happy miners all shook hands with Ching Chong, saying a hearty "God bless you, boy," while the tears glistened in their eyes, as they thought of the dear ones in distant lands.

That night they all dreamed golden dreams, full of love and happiness.

In the morning they all went together to the newly discovered treasure, which proved to be a large tract of the richest placer-diggings ever known.

In six months they were all rich men, and left the mountains for their different homes, blessing forever Ching Chong Chinaman.

About that time a good ship sailed for China, and on the deck sat the happy Ching Chong, and all his great wealth was on board.

After a prosperous voyage, he reached his dear, native land, and was able to give his friend the merchant, an account of himself, so satisfactory that he rewarded him with the hand of his daughter, the beautiful Ah Zore, and in all Hong Kong there could not be found a happier man than Ching Chong Chinaman.