CHAPTER XI.

Disturbance in the City--Armed Patrol--The Club-house--A luxurious

Breakfast--A Word for Growlers--Another Disturbance--Drifting

and Howling--Down in the Dust--A Buster of Coffee--An Attack

of Ophthalmia--Good News--Hey! for Japan--Vladimir Bay--Grand

Scenery--A Fishing Party--Merry Hauling--An unstiffened

Lieutenant--Fine Salmon--Toad-fish--Slime-dabs--Native Fishermen--A

fine Place for Robinson Crusoe--Off Nagasaki--A beautiful Coast--A

charming Harbour--At Anchor.

On the 3rd of August we had a long and hard day’s work on board our

ship, and at night, instead of rest, we had to go ashore armed, as

there was a disturbance among the Chinese, provoked by attempts at

kidnapping; and they had been ill-using Europeans, and trying to

confine them in their houses. We patrolled the streets till one

o’clock, and met with no disturber more formidable than gaunt,

houseless dogs or a terrified cat, and then returned to head-quarters,

the Shanghai Club-house, where we lay down for the remainder of the

night, keeping sentries at the inner and outer gates. For artillery

we had one field-piece, placed in the court-yard. At bugle call in

the morning we turned out; soon had a good wash, getting water from a

spring in the yard, and ere long our breakfast arrived from the ship,

brought by the boys and a few men, who had been left on board. We ate

it with good appetite, seated in groups in the grassy quadrangle,

sheltered from the sun by the high walls and surrounding buildings.

Soft bread with cocoa for sailors! Certain good folks at home would

hardly credit it. I fancy some might even say it was a breach of

discipline. Biscuit is quite good enough for sailors; but let these

good folks remember that without sailors they could not stay at home

comfortably and growl. Breakfast over we patrolled again, but all

appeared quiet; so we were ordered back to the ship to clean ourselves

and get dinner.

We went ashore again about two o’clock, and passed in our march the

French guard, who saluted us, several of them running out to shake

hands with us, in the fulness of their good feeling. We had not been

in the club-house half an hour, when a messenger came running in with

word that the Chinese had made an attempt to fire the French consul’s

house, and stop the passage of the bridge over the river. We were soon

on the spot, although with the thermometer at 98°, and a scorching

sun, marching the streets was no joke. But arrived at the scene of

anticipated contest we found no sign of rioters, neither was the house

on fire; so that we not only got a false report, but a hot tramp into

the bargain; and, to complete the matter, through some stupid blunder

on the part of certain authorities, we missed all the ale which the

consul sent out for us.

The same night we went on board, but had scarcely settled ourselves to

sleep before we had to go ashore again. The merchant ships above us,

in a sudden panic, were hailing frantically, “Men-of-war, there! The

junks are drifting down upon us!” The Chinese in the city at this time

were making a fearful noise, howling and firing guns; but how the junks

could be drifting down with a five-knot current running up, was rather

an amusing mystery; but imagination in such cases works wonders.

We were soon landed and marched up the Bund to the eastern end of the

settlement, near to the city gates; we here formed in close line,

loaded our muskets with ball-cartridge, capped, and waited for further

orders; the hubbub in the city still continuing. However, as nobody

appeared to receive our charges, we stood easy, and after a time, the

city getting quiet, the officer in command gave the order to “Ground

arms, but no straggling.” “Well, here’s for a doze,” said one; “So

says I,” cried another; and before long most of us lay down in the

thick dust on the roadway or on the bridge, and soon slept, fatigued

with the day’s duty. Nothing further occurred during the night; the

sentries went off and on, and the sleepers were not disturbed. In the

morning before going aboard we breakfasted at the expense of a wealthy

Englishman, who supplied coffee and pic-nic biscuits in abundance. Most

of the men went in for a “buster of coffee,” as they said; but even

sailors can be satisfied, and we left plenty of fragments.

After our return on board, we were nearly all afflicted with

ophthalmia. I was blind for three days, but happily became soon

convalescent.

Often had we talked about Japan, how we should like to go there; so

when orders actually came for us to take a cruize in that quarter we at

first thought the news too good to be true. But it was true, and on

the 17th of August we left Shanghai for the Gulf of Tartary.

“Gulf of Tartar is that the place we’re going to? Shall we find when we

get there we’ve caught a Tartar?” said old Jem.

“No, Jem; but we might get a small dose of cream of tartar,” answered

his messmate, intending to be witty.

The first night we anchored at King-Tang, in order to despatch letters

to the flag-ship lying there. On the 23rd we passed the Powshan

Islands, a very bold and lofty group, and on the 25th came in sight

of Vladimir Bay; then got up steam to weather the point, which runs

out into the gulf, and this once doubled, a beautiful scene appeared

in view. Around us rose lofty hills clad in sombre green, divided by

well-wooded and deep-shelving valleys, and fine inland plains. The

shore presented in some parts a very bold front, rising precipitous,

in others assuming an aspect of grandeur, where some of the bluffs,

having the appearance of ancient ruins, frowned in grim blackness on

the restless waves below. As we steamed in and the bay gradually opened

we descried the mast-heads of the _Actæon_ and _Dove_ surveying vessels

above a low, far-projecting spit of land.

Vladimir Bay is capacious, receding into deep, sheltered bights

in the land, forming picturesque little creeks, and nice smooth

landing-places. What a treat it was to take in water from a pure and

limpid spring, that bubbled up in a grassy hollow, besprinkled with

flowers and backed by fine trees. Though not more than three yards from

the sea, the water was delicious.

On the opposite shore flowed a stream large enough for a boat to pull

into. Here we had two nights’ fishing. The last of these excursions

surpassed our most sanguine expectations, and our success kept us

in good humour. We shoved off from the ship about 4 P.M. with all

necessary tackle, and, pulling away to the head of the bay, near a

little fresh-water creek, hove-to, and cast the line; then, throwing

off our upper garments, overboard we went, and commenced to haul the

net in shore, laughing and joking as now and then one of our party

chanced to stumble and went head over into the clear water. Our first

lieutenant, who had charge of the party, entered heartily into the

spirit of the thing, and laughed and joked with us, dropping for the

time his usual stiff manner.

By-and-by we drew the net to land, and discovered plenty of fine fish

entangled in the meshes--fourteen or fifteen fine salmon, and more than

enough of rock cod. But there yet remained one corner of the net to be

emptied of the struggling captives; so out we shook them. No sooner

were they out of their element than they showed their nature, swelling

up tremendously, and exuding quantities of slime, by which we knew they

were toad-fish, not good to eat, being poisonous. “Don’t care about

them,” said old George Davis, who acted as ganger; “them fish eats dead

bodies, and they’ll run at a naked hook for the fun of the thing.” We

cast again and again, with various fortune, one of our hauls consisting

of nothing but these toad-fish--“slime-dabs,” as some of our party

called them--till darkness came on; then, kindling a fire upon the

beach, and lighting a lantern in the bow of the boat, we continued our

exciting pastime. Presently the stars kept us company, the water began

to feel cool, and the night breeze chilly; and as the boat showed a

good take, and we all felt uncommonly peckish, we returned to the ship:

and so ended my first fishing excursion. What a jolly breakfast we had

next morning!

Some fishermen came into the bay the day after our arrival. They were

dressed much after the fashion of other Chinese, but were more simple

and rude in their manners, at the same time having an honest and candid

expression of countenance rare among the Celestials, which gave one a

favourable opinion of them at first sight. They readily bartered away

some fine bearskins, asking in exchange only a few yards of seamen’s

blue cloth.

Vladimir Bay is very secluded, abounds in fish, is a fair anchorage,

and the neighbouring woods shelter plenty of game. Many of our fellows

said, “Blest if they wouldn’t like to be shoved ashore there. A fine

place, and no mistake.”

We left it on the 6th of September, with a fair ten-knot breeze. On the

12th we arrived off Nagasaki, and saw a more beautiful line of coast

than any I had ever set eyes on. We were under steam, and as we glided

along close under the high land the views we got were charming. The

coast is very bold in most parts; in others gentle hills rise from the

sandy and pebbly beach, covered with thick underwood and fine trees,

and so dense as to seem almost impenetrable.

The entrance to the harbour is long and narrow, shut in by overhanging

hills, teeming with the richest vegetation, in which occasional

openings show peeps of cultivated country, and the dim blue of hills

in the distance. While passing an island at the entrance we saw many

guns mounted, and, as we steamed farther on gun after gun appeared

perched up among the woody heights, where a lover of the picturesque

would not think of looking for them. Still advancing, we discovered a

pretty little bay where stood a cluster of fishing-huts; or a little

dell would appear nestling under the mountain, and dotted with pretty

little cottages--real Japanese cottages. This was the Japan we had

longed to behold. We could see their inmates, looking out eagerly upon

the wonderful fireship as she slowly steamed on to her anchorage in

the inner harbour; a beautiful bay, shut in by quiet hills, with the

straggling and picturesque town of Nagasaki at their base.

And thus, at last, had the wish of most of us been realised! and we

gazed upon the scenery of a Japanese landscape, and our anchor was

firmly hooked in Japanese holding-ground.

A sailor-boy's log-book from Portsmouth to the Peiho · 第 11 / 15 章