THE POOL OF THE DEVIL-FISH.
That evening, being unable to sleep, we sat up late, packing our booty
into the chests furnished by the eunuch. They were light and strong and
so closely did the gems pack that we were able to get our ivories and
some other valuable ornaments into an extra case. Before we went to bed
all the boxes were tightly nailed, wound with cords, and the cords
sealed with wax. As the seals bore the impression of Prince Kai’s signet
ring I felt sure they would be respected.
Next morning we sent for Wi-to, and when he appeared, looking still a
bit “groggy,” as Archie expressed it, we told him the story we had
invented to suit our necessity.
“Mai Lo is dead,” I began.
The Chief Eunuch started.
“You have killed him?” he asked.
“No; he committed suicide.”
“Impossible!”
“So I would have said had I not seen it,” I answered, gravely. “And
perhaps, after all, the governor did not intend to fulfil his duty so
hastily. Sit down, Wi-to, and listen to the story.”
He sat down, but looked incredulous and uneasy.
“While you were ill yesterday,” I began, “we went out to take a walk.”
“With the governor’s soldiers guarding every door?” he asked.
“Why, you yourself have said there were secret passages that the
governor did not know of. You must not forget, sir, that we are the
trusted friends and emissaries of Prince Kai Lun Pu.”
This may or may not have satisfied him. Anyhow, he said nothing but
looked at me inquiringly.
“We wandered through the grounds, trying not to meet anyone,” I
continued, “until we came to the great pool by the rocks which your
people say is inhabited by the devil-fish.”
“It is true,” said Wi-to. “I, myself, have seen the monster.”
I was much relieved to hear this, for it made my invention seem more
plausible.
“While we stood looking into the pool,” said I, “the governor suddenly
stepped from the grove of trees nearby and advanced toward us. He held a
naked scimitar in his hand, such as his soldiers use, and he seemed very
angry. He reproached us for making the acquaintance of his wife and
daughter and for opposing his soldiers, and declared we should not
escape him again.”
This struck the eunuch as quite reasonable. He began to look interested.
“We were angry, and argued with him,” I went on, “and while we were
quarreling Mai Lo suddenly gave a loud cry. We looked around and saw the
great ape called Fo-Chu, the King, leaping toward us from the grove.”
I paused and Wi-to said:
“He escaped from the pagoda several days ago, and could not be found.”
“We were all frightened,” said I, “for the beast seemed fierce and
excited. The governor alone was armed, and as Fo-Chu bounded forward Mai
Lo thrust out the scimitar, and ran it through the ape’s body. But
Fo-Chu drew the blade from his own breast, swung it in the air, and with
one blow severed the governor’s head from his shoulders. Then the ape
seized the body and leaped into the pool with it, and both sank quickly
beneath the black waters. I am quite sure the beast was dying at the
time, and perhaps the devil-fish grabbed them, for neither one came to
the surface again.”
As I finished the yarn the Chief Eunuch coughed and looked puzzled.
“But although the bodies were gone,” I added, “the head of Mai Lo
remained upon the ground where it had fallen.”
“Here it is,” announced Archie, “we used to call him old Death’s-Head,
and may be it is appropriate,” and holding the horrible thing in his
hand, he advanced and laid it at the eunuch’s feet.
Wi-to grew pale and stared into the placid face of his enemy. Mai Lo
stared back at him, and I could not see that the beady eyes or parchment
face had changed at all in death.
“Ugh!” said the eunuch, turning away. “It is certain the man is dead.
But who will believe your story?”
“You will, to begin with,” said I, confidently, “and you will make
others believe it.”
“How?”
I brought some rice-paper, brush and ink from the cabinet, where there
was a store of such material, and laid them on the table.
“Write the words I shall give you, in Chinese, as Mai Lo would have
written them,” I said.
The eunuch smiled as if suddenly enlightened, and accepted the task
cheerfully.
“‘Wishing to die, as it is my duty to do,’” I dictated, “‘I have loosed
the Sacred Ape and trusted myself to his avenging hand. If I am dead
after we have met, all the world will know that Mai Lo, Governor of
Kwang-Kai-Nong and the trusted servant of Prince Kai Lun Pu, who lies
with his ancestors, has done his full duty.’”
Wi-to nodded like an automaton and wrote with much skill upon the paper,
beginning at one of the bottom corners of the sheet and working up.
The Chinese characters were neat and uniform, and when the document was
finished Wi-to laid down the brush with a sigh of content.
“I have not used your words,” said he, “but I have used the idea. And
the signature,” he added, with a sly leer, “is the signature of Mai Lo
himself. I will now go and exhibit the head and the paper, and salute
Mai-Tchin as the new governor.”
So eager was he that he caught up the head by its queue and dragged the
grinning trophy away with him without having it wrapped into a neat
parcel, as I had intended should be done.
Wi-to might not believe our story, but he was assuredly glad to be rid
of his long-standing foe, and we had given the wily eunuch the clew that
would enable him to deceive anyone who might be interested in knowing
how the governor met his death.
I have beside me, as I write, a clipping from the Hong-Kong Gazette
announcing the death of the Governor of the Province of Kwang-Kai-Nong.
It states that he committed suicide according to Shinto requirements,
owing to the premature death of his master, Prince Kai Lun Pu, late
Viceroy of the Imperial Chinese Empire.
Within an hour we left our rooms and ventured to walk out into the
palace and wander in the grounds again. The soldiers had all been
withdrawn and the palace eunuchs made humble obeisance to us as we
passed.
There was no excitement apparent around the palace. The artisans were
busy with their tasks and the gardeners pruned and weeded as
deliberately as ever. But when we descended the mound we heard a loud
chorus of moans proceeding from the governor’s house, and knew that his
death was now publicly recognized.
The place was getting decidedly distasteful to us, and that evening we
told Wi-to that we had performed all the requests of Prince Kai and
wanted to return to Shanghai at once. He replied that he was sorry to
have us go, but appreciated the fact that the unpleasant incidents of
our visit must outweigh with us the pleasure we had had.
Next morning we were waited upon by the new governor, who received us in
the state apartment of the palace. We found him a weak, undecided young
man, who seemed frightfully nervous at his sudden accession to power and
eager to get rid of us. We explained to him the terms of our contract
with his father, Mai Lo, and while we did not mention the ten thousand
taels, we insisted upon a proper escort to Ichang and payment of all the
expenses of the trip back to Shanghai. He agreed to every demand with
alacrity, and I could see he was in positive terror of the “foreign
devils.”
Within forty-eight hours the arrangements were all completed and the
train of elephants, horses and attendants gathered in the open space
before the palace. The eunuchs carried down our heavy cases and loaded
them upon the elephants, and while the bearers must have thought them
tremendously heavy they dared not complain, and the Chief Eunuch’s
suspicions were in no way aroused.
Wi-to seemed really grieved to lose his guests, and we thanked him
cordially for his hospitality and parted from him, both he and we
expressing the utmost good will.
Our escort was led by a very polite fellow, who spoke amusing
pigeon-English and had evidently been instructed by Mai Tchin to show us
especial deference and obey our slightest command.
The result was that we met with little annoyance from the natives along
the route, and reached Ichang with our entire treasure intact, after a
very agreeable journey.
There we left our elephants and horses and boarded the steamer for
Shanghai, taking with us merely an escort of a dozen soldiers. These
richly dressed warriors commanded sufficient respect to insure our
safety on the trip.
At Shanghai Uncle Naboth was waiting for us, and the dear old fellow was
overjoyed at our safe return.
“Got any treasure?” he asked.
We pointed to the sealed packing-cases which the porters were
laboriously unloading.
“There’s enough there, Uncle,” I whispered, “to make us all rich as
Rockefeller—if we can get it safe aboard the _Seagull_.”
“Why, we’ll hire a special steamer to transport it to Woosung,” he
declared; and knowing Mr. Perkins as we did we were all relieved when
the treasure had been turned over to his care.
We met Dr. Gaylord in Shanghai, and he was still “out of a job.” He
seemed amazed that we had returned safely from our adventure and asked
us a thousand questions which we answered discreetly, without telling
him too much. But he was a good-hearted old fellow, and had been of much
service to us before his courage had failed him and led him to desert
our cause. Remembering this, I placed a small packet in his hands when
we parted at the wharf and asked him not to open it until after we had
gone.
I hope it helped the good doctor to buy that farm in England which he so
much desired; for although the packet merely contained what Archie
described as “some of the loose plunder that was in our pockets,” it
ought to have been sufficient to set the doctor up for life.
Fortunately there are no customs officials at the port of Woosung, and
our chartered steamer puffed directly to the side of the _Seagull_ and
loaded us and our treasure on our own craft.
We received a joyful welcome from my father and the officers and crew,
you may be sure, and before we had told all of our story we were well
out at sea and were homeward bound.
I have often wondered if our visits to the Ancestral Halls of the House
of Kai have ever been discovered, or the treasure we abstracted at the
instance of the Prince ever missed.
But from the far-away Province of Kwang-Kai-Nong to the deck of the
wandering _Seagull_ is a far cry, and it is unlikely we shall ever know
what happened in Kai-Nong after our departure.
Since that time we “Boy Fortune Hunters” have been through many other
experiences, not all rewarded with equal profit, but, I can assure you,
quite as thrilling; and some of these I purpose to relate at another
time. Some of our earlier adventures, such as those with which we
entertained the dying Prince Kai, may be read in “The Boy Fortune
Hunters in Alaska,” “The Boy Fortune Hunters in Panama,” and “The Boy
Fortune Hunters in Egypt.”
THE END.
_Up-to-the-Minute Boys’ Books_
The Airship Boys Series
_By_ H. L. SAYLER
ILLUSTRATED BY F. R. HARPER
This is one of the most fascinating, besides being one of the most
timely and technically accurate series of boys’ books yet published. Mr.
Sayler is not only first, but, we think, without a rival in this new
field of boys’ literature which offers so much in the way of invention,
exploration and adventure. The first two volumes are:
The Airship Boys
_or, The Quest of the Aztec Treasure_
AND
The Airship Boys Adrift
_or, Saved by an Aeroplane_
Each, fully illustrated, with handsome cover and striking wrapper in
colors, $1.00
_For sale wherever books are sold_
_Good Books for Girls_
The Aunt Jane Series
By Edith Van Dyne
Aunt Jane’s Nieces
Aunt Jane’s Nieces Abroad
Aunt Jane’s Nieces at Millville
Aunt Jane’s Nieces at Work
“Aunt Jane’s Nieces” chronicles the real doings of real girls in a most
interesting manner. “Aunt Jane’s Nieces Abroad” tells of a delightfully
adventurous trip through Europe, and the third volume describes their
summer holiday on a farm “at Millville.” In the last story the “Nieces”
are shown at work in the political arena.
_Illustrated 12mos. Uniform cloth binding, stamped in colors, with
beautiful colored inlay_
Price 60 cents each
Annabel
By Suzanne Metcalf
A bright, swiftly-moving story of a young girl just blossoming into
womanhood, and of a boy struggling for a start in life.
_12mo. Dainty cloth binding, with inlaid design and six duotone
illustrations by H. Putnam Hall_
Price 60 cents
Transcriber’s Notes
--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
domain in the country of publication.
--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and
dialect unchanged.
--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the
HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Fortune Hunters in China, by L. Frank Baum