[Illustration: _IT WAS ROUGHLY SEIZED FROM HIS HAND_]
A
UNITED STATES
MIDSHIPMAN
IN CHINA
_by_
Lt. Com. Yates Stirling Jr. U.S.N.
Author of
“A U.S. Midshipman Afloat”
[Illustration]
Illustrated _by_ Ralph L. Boyer
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
MCMIX
COPYRIGHT
1909 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
[Illustration]
Introduction
Those who have read “A United States Midshipman Afloat” will recall
that Philip Perry and his friend, Sydney Monroe, recent graduates
of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, had been but a short time in the
regular naval service when the battle-ship “Connecticut,” to which they
had been assigned, was ordered to a South American port. Here they
found a revolution in progress, and it became the duty of the young men
to prevent the delivery of certain machine guns and other war material
which had been shipped from America to the insurgents. In this they
were successful after some stirring adventure on land and sea.
The present book shows the same young officers on a United States
gunboat in the Yangtse River at a time when the lives of foreigners
in China are in peril. A further account of their experiences in
Eastern waters will be found in “A United States Midshipman in the
Philippines.” In all of these books the endeavor has been to portray
some of the bold enterprises which are all in the day’s work for a
naval officer, and to show how our modern navy accomplishes big things
in a quiet way.
Contents
I. AN INCIDENT OF THE RIVER 9
II. AN UNPLEASANT ENCOUNTER 21
III. THE PERIL AT THE MISSION GATE 32
IV. THE EMBASSY TO THE VICEROY 44
V. THE VICEROY’S TREACHERY 59
VI. DIPLOMACY FAILS 72
VII. DISSENSIONS 86
VIII. IGNACIO SHOWS HIS HAND 108
IX. HELD AS HOSTAGES 122
X. A CHINESE PRISON 139
XI. FRIENDS IN NEED 152
XII. A DARING PLAN 167
XIII. HOPES OF ESCAPE 181
XIV. THE ESCAPE 194
XV. AN ENEMY SILENCED 208
XVI. REËNFORCEMENTS 234
XVII. ABOARD THE “PHŒNIX” 245
XVIII. THE START FOR KU-LING 259
XIX. THE SECRET CHANNEL 274
XX. RUNNING THE BATTERIES 288
XXI. TO THE RESCUE OF THE MISSION 299
XXII. THE LAST CHARGE 314
XXIII. THE FORTS SURRENDER 332
XXIV. PHIL EXPLAINS 345
Illustrations
PAGE
IT WAS ROUGHLY SEIZED FROM HIS HAND _Frontispiece_
A PISTOL SHOT RANG OUT 71
“WE ARE YOUR FRIENDS” 150
HE MEASURED THE STRENGTH OF HIS ANTAGONIST 191
“THE MONITORS ARE ACTUALLY HERE!” 256
“THERE IS STILL A CHANCE” 283
THE AMERICANS WERE STRUCK DUMB 342
A United States Midshipman in China
CHAPTER I
AN INCIDENT OF THE RIVER
The United States gunboat “Phœnix” lay at anchor in the swift current
of the Yangtse River opposite the Chinese city of Ku-Ling. The surface
of the water seemed tranquil, but a closer look over the side of the
ship showed to the observer the strength of the muddy flood that swept
for thousands of miles through the length of the Chinese Empire, from
the far-away snows of the mountains of Tibet onward to the waters of
the Pacific Ocean.
Two young midshipmen were standing at the gunboat’s rail in eager
conversation. Their eyes were intent upon the scenes on the shore
scarce a hundred yards away.
“Oh, there’s Langdon!” exclaimed Philip Perry, the taller of the two
lads, as the form of the government pilot, Joseph Langdon, was seen
coming from the ward-room companion ladder. “Langdon, have you ever
seen this much talked about Chang-Li-Hun?”
“Seen him?” Langdon echoed, approaching the speaker. “I’ve talked with
him many a time, and you can take my word for it, there isn’t a man
in all China whom I wouldn’t sooner have for my enemy. He’s a past
craftsman in oriental subtlety and diplomacy. He rules his own people
with a rod of iron, and if an official displeases him, off goes his
head in the most approved Chinese fashion.”
Both midshipmen suppressed an unconscious shiver as the American pilot
of the Yangtse River illustrated the death of the disgraced official by
chopping at his own thick neck with a great sun-tanned, muscular hand.
“Everything looks peaceful enough ashore there now, doesn’t it?” Sydney
Monroe, Phil’s friend and classmate, said in a tone of inquiry. “It
doesn’t seem as if the foreigners were much in fear of the dangers of
Chinese violence. Look!” he exclaimed; “there are European women and
even children walking along the streets.”
“That’s the danger in China,” Langdon returned in a troubled voice.
“Living in this country is like being on top of a presumably extinct
volcano. No one knows when it will break out. Sometimes it comes
without the usual rumblings.”
“There must have been some rumblings,” Philip Perry exclaimed, pointing
suggestively at the half score of foreign gunboats representing all the
European navies.
“Yes,” Langdon answered, “there have been many signs which have greatly
alarmed those who have made a study of the Chinese situation. This
viceroy has within the last few weeks allowed many insults by his
people to foreigners to go unpunished, and will not listen to the
appeals of the foreign consuls. The missionaries all over the provinces
are in fear of some terrible calamity, and it is through their urgent
demands that these war-ships are here.”
“What do the foreigners fear?” Sydney asked, interestedly.
“Fear!” Langdon exclaimed. “Why, almost every kind of torture and
death. When once the Chinese are allowed to avenge themselves upon the
foreigner there’s no limit to their cruelty.”
“Why can’t we appeal to the Chinese government at Peking to protect
foreigners?” Phil asked gravely. “Haven’t we a treaty with China for
protection of United States citizens here?”
Langdon gave the lad a withering look, as he replied:
“This viceroy is not letting Peking know what is happening in his
provinces. If he succeeds in making the country over which he rules
dangerous and unprofitable to foreigners without doing more than kill a
few missionaries and ruining foreign trade, Peking will apologize for
the deaths and pay an indemnity to the families of those killed and
then to sustain him in the eyes of his people decorate him with the
Order of the Dragon. But if he goes too far, then Peking, in order to
save herself from an invasion of foreign soldiers, will disgrace the
viceroy in one of the many ways known best to the Chinese.”
“Here comes the captain now,” Sydney exclaimed as a small white
canopied steam launch shoved off from the jetty and stood toward the
“Phœnix.”
All three walked toward the gangway to meet Commander Hughes, the
captain of the gunboat, who had been ashore to visit his consul and
gather the latest news of the much feared uprising among the fanatical
natives.
“Well, Webster,” Commander Hughes exclaimed in hearty tones to the
executive officer, as he put his foot on the quarter-deck, returning in
a precise manner the salutes of the officers standing near. “Keep your
guard for the mission ready to land at a moment’s notice. I saw that
half-breed Emmons, the oracle of the river. He is non-committal, but
I can see he fears trouble. He promised to warn me in plenty of time.
Emmons says that the Tartar general, commanding all the soldiers under
the viceroy, is not in sympathy with this movement, and if he can urge
the viceroy to take steps to suppress it, our presence here may yet be
unnecessary.”
After the captain had entered his cabin the two midshipmen turned
eagerly upon the pilot.
“Who is this half-breed Emmons the captain speaks of?” Phil demanded.
“Do you see all those launches over there?” the pilot inquired,
pointing to the near-by docks where many small vessels were unloading.
“Well, they belong to Emmons,” he added, “and he’s very rich. His
mother was a native woman and his father an American merchant skipper.
Emmons wears Chinese clothes and to meet him on the street you’d
take him for a native. We’re lucky to have Emmons with us, but if
the viceroy suspects that he is, he’d enjoy nothing better than to
confiscate his property and expel him from the provinces, even if he
doesn’t have him executed.”
“Where’s this mission?” Sydney asked gazing searchingly out over the
green sloped hills of the country.
Langdon held a pointing finger steadily out to the right of the walled
Chinese city.
“About five miles from here,” he said. “It’s built in the middle of an
ancient Chinese graveyard and is a thorn in the side of the Chinese.
It was erected three years ago, and by order of this same viceroy. No
other site could be used. He knew that the Chinese would never rest
until they tore the building down. It took nearly two years to build;
all the work was done by Christian converts. I don’t blame the captain
for feeling uneasy, for in my opinion that mission will be the first
point of attack.”
Phil and Sydney were soon after below in their rooms finishing their
unpacking; for they had but recently arrived on the station and had
joined the gunboat just previous to her leaving Shanghai on her
four-hundred mile cruise up the great Chinese river. So interested were
they during the day, viewing the shifting scenery, and at night so much
of their time had been occupied in standing watch on the gunboat’s
bridge, that they had quite forgotten their trunks as yet unpacked in
the ward-room passages.
After dinner that evening, while the midshipmen were enjoying the
bracing fall air on the quarter-deck, Phil was suddenly summoned to
report immediately to the captain.
Receiving Commander Hughes’ instructions to take the steam launch and
board each of the foreign gunboats, the midshipman left the cabin to
carry out his orders, much elated at the exalted rôle he was playing in
the affairs of nations. About an hour later, having visited each of the
foreign gunboats and given to their commanding officers his captain’s
letters, the launch breasted the swift current of the river on her
return to the ship. The coxswain of the launch was steering his boat
close to the hulls of the junks moored to the jetty, in order to avoid
the strength of the current. The river was silent; no sound could be
heard save the whir of the tiny engine and the rush of the tide against
the sides of the launch.
As the boat passed within the shadow of a high-sided junk, such as are
used by the wealthy Chinese as house-boats, a piercing cry rang out
over the quiet water from her deck, directly above Phil’s head; then
he heard the sound of a scuffle, followed by the splash of a heavy
body in the dark waters astern of the launch. The lad was on his feet
in an instant; throwing off his coat, he sprang out on the launch’s
rail, ready to go to the assistance of the unfortunate one who had
been swallowed up in the treacherous waters. The coxswain had by
signal stopped the headway of the launch and all eyes were searching
the waters astern: the ripples that closed over the body were visible,
while some yards down stream an object floated, all but submerged,
rapidly borne away by the hurrying flood.
The lad stood irresolute for the fraction of a second, fear of the
treacherous flood tugging at his heart; then overcoming this momentary
weakness, he turned to the coxswain beside him:
“Go down to leeward and pick me up,” he ordered, gathering himself
together and springing far out into the dark river.
As he struck out boldly sinister stories of the enchanted water surged
back to him. He had heard how the suction from the muddy bottom was
known to drag to their death even the strongest swimmers: men who had
missed their footing while stepping into boats alongside their own
ships had disappeared beneath the yellow surface never to rise again.
The Chinese superstition was that a dragon lived in the river and
that all persons who fell into his home were drawn to the bottom and
devoured by the monster.
Phil struggled manfully against these weird fancies, yet he was
conscious of the force acting to suck his body down while he exerted
all his strength to keep his head above the engulfing waters. The
high-sided junks flashed by him as he swam with the current toward the
victim struggling despairingly in the embrace of the river dragon. In a
few moments his strong strokes had brought him alongside the drowning
man. He grasped the man’s clothing and drew him closer, seeking a
firmer hold. Avoiding the waving arms, Phil’s hand worked its way along
the body until it reached his head, and there his fingers closed about
the long braided cue; twisting this around his hand, the lad swam out
toward the middle of the river. The Chinaman struggled violently,
striving to grasp Phil’s hand. The boy saw with terror that if the
Chinaman succeeded they would both drown.
“Be still or I’ll let you go!” he commanded, forgetting in his anxiety
that he was talking to a Chinaman, but nevertheless the man quieted
down and Phil’s hopes rose.
With the stinging water in his eyes, he gazed about him for the launch;
he could scarcely see; the oppressive darkness seemed to be closing in
about him. Then out of the night there loomed the sides of many junks,
massed in tiers, directly in the path of the current carrying him. This
new and terrible danger filled him with despair: even the strongest
swimmer could not expect to survive if he were drawn under that wooden
wall of vessels; if he were not crushed between their huge hulls he
would be forced beneath the surface for so long a time that life would
be extinct before he rose again. His one chance was to breast the
tide, swimming out from shore in the hope that thus he might clear the
outside junk.
The hulls seemed ever closer and the lad’s efforts weaker. The Chinaman
was a dead weight upon him; if he abandoned the man he could save
himself. Would it not be just? He could not hope to save both himself
and the Chinaman, therefore, was he not obeying the first law of nature
by abandoning the unfortunate man to his fate? But Phil, even with
death staring him in the face, dismissed these unnerving thoughts from
his mind. He would save the man or drown in the attempt! As he swam
manfully ahead, supporting the fully conscious but terrified Chinaman,
and casting anxious glances behind him at the fast approaching menace,
his heart was gladdened at the sight of the launch standing in boldly
between him and the junks, now but a few dozen yards away. Then he saw
the boat turn slowly, painfully, toward him in the grasp of the cruel,
relentless current which seemed to sweep her down under the yawning
whirlpool. He closed his eyes to shut out the sight. If the launch
failed to turn inside the distance she would be swept under the mass of
shipping and be capsized; then the brave men who had fearlessly taken
this risk to save him would all find a watery grave in the river.
“She can’t make it!” he gasped despairingly.