CHINESE LANGUAGE--"HELD UP"--BETRAYED!
We started in the gloaming, carrying small packs and some supplies, for
we did not know whether the natives would suspect us, or assist us,
even if they were not distrustful. Hoko "cheered me up" by relating
slowly, for my benefit, the list of likely tortures which the Chinese
practised upon the enemy. The list need not be recapitulated in full,
but cutting-up (alive), beheading, and hanging, first by the heels,
were amongst those most usually inflicted upon the prisoner, and
perhaps the most "merciful."
My spirits were not thereby elated, and scarcely had we reached the
road when a picket of Japanese soldiers accosted us. They were quickly
satisfied by my companion, and laughed at us as we parted with them.
This interview was succeeded by others, and in each case we got away
safely. At our last halt Hoko consulted his map, and gave it to me to
ponder in the lantern-light of the picket guards. Again we resumed our
journey, and this party proved to be the last post of the Japs at that
time. Thenceforward all was dark and unknown.
When we had proceeded a few miles, hunger assailed us, and after a
short time we agreed, chiefly by signs, to rest in the glade into which
we had wandered from the road. The Chinese tongue never seemed to me
so wanting in expression as then. My command of language is not
despicable in English, and on board ship; but in that glade in the
society of the Japanese scout I felt kinder dumb! There was no need
for silence. The Chinese language embraces about forty thousand
strokes or letters (or signs rather) in writing; while only about three
hundred and fifty are spoken. Hence the same _spoken_ word represents
a number of different--vastly different--things in writing; and the few
hundreds of words represent so many more thousands of characters or
signs! Even a Chinese may communicate with a friend in another
province by _writing_; but he very likely will not understand his
_dialect_.
The Chinese language, I may state, depends really upon the _tones_ of
voice, not upon the actual pronunciation of the words, and these tones
are even increased in the Mongolian dialect. In Manchuria, perhaps,
the bulk of the population is of Mongolian descent, a superior, a
braver, race than the ordinary (I don't say "pure and simple")
Chinaman--for "John" is not that. But practice and tone of voice will
teach much; and this tone will entirely alter the sense of the speaker
if he misapply it. In some languages one may speak by "ear." Ear is
of no account in China. There are certain "radical signs" and a number
of "primitive" signs; characters are made by combining both, and are
written downwards.
As may be anticipated, I had not made much progress in the Chinese
language, but I could chatter "pidgin" English, which is so useful in
the Treaty ports, and so useless in China proper, which is arrived at
by changing every "r" to "l" and adding the "e" doubled when it is
single, as in "alle samee," "makee laugh," "alle samee Elopean man,"
"no wantchee." "Number one" means "proper," and "chop-chop" "quickly,"
in this language; while "play-pidgin" is merely "talk," and "top-side
pidgin" is religion, or religious converse.
One soon becomes conversant with the business talk, for "pidgin" means
"business" in the mind of the trader and the coolie (or labourer). But
let me resume my narrative.
The night was very chilly, and the early morning misty, as my companion
roused me up and told me that we must be going. Let it be remembered
that our conversations were only carried on piecemeal, and when I
mention them you must understand that signs assisted us greatly. But
the man was honest, I believed, and had no thought of any treachery
towards me. We conversed in southern dialect a little, and made signs.
We presently reached a river which I learned was called Pilu (or
Pihliu), and proceeded to a small village where we got some food, which
I did not relish, but had to eat in order to keep up my character. We
learned that the invaders were expected, and that it would be better
for us to keep away to the north-west, else we might get into trouble.
We therefore assented, and passed on for a while, intending to change
our route as soon as possible, but fate had ordained otherwise. My
companion had intended to proceed in the direction of Putsewo, and then
strike westward again, marching by a compass and map which I had
secured in my tunic, but when we took the advice of the well-meaning
villagers we left our former direction, and when again essaying to
recover our route we came to grief. For a long time we wandered amidst
the hills and rough country seeking a track, but finding nothing
promising, until almost suddenly we descended a hillside and found
ourselves near a rather substantial village, from which there was no
escape without questioning from the natives.
Hoko quickly gave me to understand that I was his brother, that we were
South Chinamen seeking a ship at Port Arthur, and that we had been
north and intended to return to Chefoo.[1] We had rehearsed this
little play before, and my South-China lingo was supposed sufficient to
deceive the Mongolians. If necessary, my guide informed me, a little
"geomaney," or "wind and weather" fortune-telling, would keep suspicion
at bay. So, primed with a few simple maxims, I braced myself for the
encounter.
[1] Chefoo or Chifu.--H.F.
The natives were decidedly of the race of Didymus. They did not credit
half our assurance, and we--at least I--wished we had more of it.
Certainly the interpreter remained as cool as possible, and his calm
method of lying would have discredited Ananias of old, and deceived St.
Peter himself. I give my impressions of the examination to which the
interpreter was subjected.
"Your name?" demanded the chief of the villagers.
"Ho-wuh-Chang."
"Where do you come from?"
"Panchwang, in the province of Fuhkien."
"Where have you been?"
"At Takushan."
"Whither bound?
"Chefoo and Shanghai."
"Who is this man?"
Here the interpreter made a pretence of great reverence and respect, as
he answered--
"My all-enlightened brother of _Tau_."
This reply drew attention to me, for Tau is the "priest" of Chinese
theosophy or magic art, and is accordingly respected, for every
Chinaman fears Tau, the more so as he has no idea what it is, any more
than its votary. Tau is "The Right": what one cannot see, nor hear,
nor seize. It is a kind of "_Feng Shui_" in its essence, and Tau is
the true Reason for all things in the universe, the Great Primitive
Cause in the world, not a religious dogma.
The Tauist, then, becomes by inheritance, or profession, a kind of
priest, a miracle-man, supposed to be versed in ancient lore, able to
tell fortunes, and decide social questions with authority as regards
the work and operations of nature, and "Feng Shui"--the effects of wind
and weather. Superstitious as the Chinese are, these attributes confer
great authority upon the adherents and practice of the Tauists. Hence,
if I was not found out, my companion concluded we should escape.
Unfortunately one of the villagers perceived the accent of the Japanese
interpreter, and declared him a Corean! This at once gave cause of
mischief, and my companion was searched, his small knapsack, or pack,
was turned upside down, and all the while a rush of epithets assailed
us both. I carried no pack, but had the compass and map and revolver
in my possession. If the suspicious and antagonistic villagers had
found those articles our fates would have been sealed, and a cruel
death must have ensued.
While the natives were thus examining the Japanese, I was not molested,
though several glances were directed at me, and some remarks
made--which I did not notice. All the time I was endeavouring to
discover some means whereby I could satisfy, if I could not alarm, the
villagers, but for a while no idea appeared to my mind feasible. The
pack had been examined, the Jap had been interrogated freely and
rudely, and now my turn was approaching. Fortunately the villagers had
been informed that I did not wish to be disturbed, but they had evident
intentions of finding things out for themselves!
Luckily, I possessed one of the attributes of the Tauists, perhaps
quite as sincere as theirs--the knowledge and anticipation of the
ordinary phases of weather. The morning had been misty and almost
frosty, and a change of wind, I noticed, had been causing a fog to
arise. Hitherto it had been almost imperceptible even in the hills,
the vale was clear; but while looking about me I noticed the vapour
gradually creeping down the slopes behind the men who barred our way.
My plan was quickly matured: the mist would serve us well. I
remembered Fennimore Cooper, and the eclipse as adapted by Haggard in
_Solomon's Mines_, and hoped for success.
I calmly approached my companion, and managed to give him a hint, in
French, that he was to make me out a necromancer; thus I intended to
play upon the fears of the natives, and he must back me up. Meantime,
if we were attacked, I would shoot as many of the assailants as I
could. My suggestions and gestures were understood, and when the
natives advanced to search me, demanding some explanation, the
interpreter motioned them to stand aside. He told them to be careful.
I was a necromancer--one who had the weather "in the palm of his hand";
was related to the _genii_, and if I (and he) were interrupted further,
and our peaceful progress barred, the immediate consequences would be
serious, and the future disastrous for the village. Their graves would
suffer, their families die; and I could change them themselves into
stocks and stones, and cause them to disappear from the village. In
fact, I could transform them! When once the Japanese Ananias had fully
embarked upon the marvellous, his imagination carried him away more
completely than ever the villagers could be. If we were properly
treated, he added, money might be showered upon them!
While the interpreter was thus hoodwinking the villagers, one or two of
whom seemed sceptical, I bethought me of a simple trick which I had
practised in "parlour magic" at home. If the fog did not serve my
purpose I could convince the natives, so I beckoned to the chief
sceptic, and taking a piece of money from my wallet, which contained
little of value, I placed the coin in his palm, pressing it firmly into
the hand and closing the fingers. He looked pleased, and retired,
keeping his fingers closely shut as directed; my "assistant" hinted if
the man were unfriendly his coin would disappear, at which the villager
called up a smile or grimace as a protest, evidently hypocritical, and
his associates also watched him.
Seeing the gift, they came forward with much curiosity, and as I
examined their features I found that some of the men were fairly
honest, and a "tip" would not be thrown away upon them, though it must
be merely a token, not a gift. So while bestowing these "tips" I kept
my eyes upon the weather, and by the time I had given all the men small
presents, as they fancied, but only a few of the most influential
actually received money, the mist came rolling down thickly. To escape
was now my intention.
It was rather amusing to see the party of men standing in a row
helplessly with their right hands guarding the magic gifts thus
bestowed by the "Tauist." The interpreter had already grasped the
situation, and at my request desired the natives to turn at the
necromancer's order, step ten paces, and open their hands. The order
was impressed upon them by myself. I waved my hands and made as if
impelling some invisible force to urge these simple superstitious men.
They moved in obedience to my order, slowly, and when I had counted
six, pausing between each number, the interpreter and I rushed away
through the glade, and into the mist, which perhaps the Chinese may
have fancied I had induced. The last I saw of my dangerous adherents
was a line of stupid-looking men each gazing at his closed hand, and
speculating upon what it contained for him.
I am afraid most of them were disappointed when they had released their
grasps of the magic gifts, and they found money in only four palms, and
those of the most influential of the party.
Meantime my faithful companion and I hurried away into the mist, which
effectually shrouded us, and pursued a devious course, now and then
halting to listen for the pursuers, for we did not doubt they would
pursue us. But we heard nothing to alarm us, and made good progress
when the mist lifted later.
We congratulated ourselves greatly upon this ruse, but it would not
serve us again. I managed to explain the trick to the Japanese, who,
when I had finished the laboured sentences, told me of some far more
intelligent tricks which he had seen performed, and tried to explain
them to me. But I was a very simple amateur in these matters, and
could do little beyond the easy _legerdemain_ of the drawing-room at
home.
"It was a dangerous game," said Hoko, "and if any of the men meet us
again they will kill us."
"But they won't catch us," I replied, with all the fine assurance of a
sharp "hare" in the schoolboy paper chase. "We can turn, and return on
our path. How do you propose to travel?"
"I am considering," he replied. "Please lend me the map and compass.
It was well they did not search you, because you would have been
killed. The map would have betrayed us."
"You can keep it," I said with great magnanimity. "By all means keep
it. I can steer by the points of the heavens, and by my watch, and the
sun and stars."
The Japanese nodded, and concealed the articles in his dress.
"The pistol?" he asked presently. "Is it ready?"
"Yes. I think I will keep it, thank you. Shall we continue our
journey?"
He nodded again, and we proceeded cautiously for several miles, bending
and twisting the route until we were both certain that we must have put
miles between us and the enraged natives, whom I had some reason to
fear notwithstanding my assumed influential character. The interpreter
proposed a halt, and being hungry I gladly acceded; then, having eaten
a few cakes and refreshed ourselves, we rested. I slept soundly for
some time. When I awoke it was dusk, and I was alone! Alone!
deserted! betrayed!