They walked on in silence. Soon they were able to distinguish some of
the men. All of them were armed--some with swords, some with sticks,
and one or two with bows and arrows. None, so far as could be seen,
carried fire-arms. They soon caught sight of the Pages and Ping Wang,
and stood watching the travellers as they approached.
Concealing their excitement, Charlie, Fred, and Ping Wang continued
walking on until they came face to face with the men, who wore yellow
cloths round their heads and also round their bodies and legs. One of
them spoke sharply, and Ping Wang replied promptly and cheerfully. His
reply evidently pleased them, for they spoke to him in a friendly
manner. Charlie and Fred stood silently a foot or two in rear of their
friend, and, as they did not understand anything of what was being said,
it was easy for them not to show any sign of interest. Suddenly one of
the men spoke to Charlie, who acted his part well, continuing to gaze at
Ping Wang's back, and appearing ignorant of the fact that he had been
addressed. Ping Wang turned round instantly, and, with a sorrowful air,
spoke to the man. Charlie and Fred guessed from Ping Wang's manner, and
the surprise which his words created, that he had declared that they
could not speak or understand.
When the people had, apparently, expressed their sorrow, Ping Wang
suddenly addressed the crowd in a loud voice. He pointed to Charlie and
Fred, and, as he did so, his tone became more indignant, his manner more
excited. When he had brought his speech to an end, the crowd behaved
like a gathering of madmen. Swords, spears, and sticks were flourished
about in a most reckless and threatening manner.
After the performance, which might be called a war-dance, had subsided,
a portly Chinaman, with a red cloth tied round his head, and cloth of a
similar colour covering his body and legs, advanced to within a yard of
Ping Wang, and shook hands with himself. Ping Wang instantly shook his
own hands. Having thus greeted each other, the two men entered into an
earnest conversation, and it was clear that they were discussing a
matter of importance from the manner in which the crowd closed on them,
so as to hear everything that was said. And then it was that Charlie and
Fred noticed that every man present was wearing either a yellow or a red
cloth round his head. The majority wore yellow ones, those who were
wearing red being, evidently, the bodyguard of the fat gentleman who was
talking to Ping Wang.
At length the conversation came to an end, and from the smile on the
portly Chinaman's face Charlie and Fred concluded, rightly, that Ping
Wang had succeeded in pleasing him. But what followed puzzled them
completely. The crowd moved back, leaving them with Ping Wang and the
big man in the centre of a circle. Then three men advanced to join them.
One was carrying a long cane, the second two lighted incense candles,
and the third a handful of square pieces of paper, on which were written
some Chinese characters. The fat man and Ping Wang then went down on
their knees, face to face, and so close to each other that their noses
almost touched. As they knelt, the man with the paper set light to one
of the pieces, and tossed it in the air above the kneeling men. As he
did so Ping Wang and the man opposite to him bent down their heads, and
butted each other gently. When the kneeling men had butted each other
seven times, the man with the cane struck Ping Wang one blow across the
back. The butting ceased at once, and Ping Wang stood up, the crowd
giving vent to harsh cries, which were meant for applause.
The fat man remained on his knees, and Ping Wang signed to Charlie to
take the position which he had just left. Charlie was put through the
same performance as Ping Wang, and when he rose up, Fred knelt down, and
went through the same ceremony.
When the portly Chinaman had got on his feet, he shouted to some one in
the crowd, and a man ran to him, carrying in his hand three pieces of
yellow cloth. These were presented to Ping Wang and the Pages. Ping Wang
did not don the yellow cloth, but placed it in his pocket, and Charlie
and Fred followed his example.
The crowd now separated, some men proceeding towards Kwang-ngan, and
others starting off to more distant villages. The Pages and Ping Wang
went with the former; but, as they walked slowly, they were soon left
behind, much to their satisfaction. Having looked round and satisfied
himself that the nearest men were more than a hundred yards ahead of
them, Charlie said to Ping Wang, in an undertone, 'What was the meaning
of it all?'
'Simply this,' Ping Wang answered with a smile, 'we have been sworn in
members of the Big Sword, or Boxer Society--a Society which exists for
the sole purpose of ferreting out and killing foreigners.'
Before Charlie and Fred had recovered from the surprise of this
announcement, the people in front started running quickly towards the
town.
'The town gates are about to be closed for the night,' Ping Wang
explained. 'We will stay out here until they are opened to-morrow. Let
us hide among these bushes, in case any more men should come along and
be suspicious of us for not hurrying.'
They pushed their way through the dwarf bushes until they came to a
small clearing. Then they sat down and waited silently until the last
townsman had hurried by.
'They have all gone,' Ping Wang declared a quarter of an hour after the
last man had passed, 'so now I will tell you all about the Boxers. After
we had exchanged greetings they told me that they were members of the
Big Sword or Big Fist Society, commonly known as Boxers, and asked me to
join them. I agreed to do so; if I had refused we should not be alive
now. Then they told me that the Empress Dowager, Tsi-Hsi, and most of
the mandarins were supporting them, and had approved of their plan to
destroy every European and native Christian in the land. I asked when
the rising was likely to take place, and was told that, as far as they
knew, it would begin in about three weeks' time. Then I heard a man
address you, and therefore declared at once that you could not speak,
and after that I made a speech pretending to be very hostile to
foreigners.'
'Don't you think,' said Charlie, 'that we ought to hurry back to warn
Barton and his friends of the threatened rising?'
'We can warn them without going back to them. I will send word to my
cousin. Since he has become a Christian, all the members of his family,
excepting his youngest brother, have refused to speak to him. His
youngest brother, who is in Kwang-ngan, is very fond of him, and when I
tell him of his brother's danger, he will, I am certain, hurry off to
warn him--and, of course, my cousin will tell Barton.'
[Illustration: "They butted each other gently."]
Then they began to discuss once more the object of their visit to
China--the recovery of the idol.
'I'm very anxious to get that treasure,' Charlie declared, 'but I feel
just now as if I would willingly sell my share of it for a good meal.
I'm both hungry and cold.'
'Then let us walk about,' Ping Wang suggested. 'It will keep us warm.
Our hunger we shall have to put up with for several hours, I'm afraid.'
As they tried to get warm, Ping Wang told them of many curious customs
of his countrymen, to make the time pass. But in spite of his stories
they became very tired and hungry, and were exceedingly thankful when,
at last, daylight appeared.
(_Continued on page 354._)
[Illustration: "He hit out with all his force."]
THE EAGLE'S NEST.
Frank Ardlamont and his younger brother Dick had a liking for every kind
of country sport, and were always ready for any adventure which required
skill and daring. When, therefore, they were spending a holiday in the
Highlands of Scotland, and learned that there was an eagle's nest built
upon an almost inaccessible ledge on the steep side of Ben Galt,
scarcely three miles away from the house where they were staying, they
thought it would be a fine thing to try and capture one of the young.
The lads had recently seen an eagle in one of the cages of a travelling
menagerie, and they thought that if they could capture a young one, they
might perhaps be able to rear it. They talked the matter over, arranged
their plans, and finally proceeded to carry them out.
The nest was a little below the edge of a steep cliff, and there was a
rugged, winding path, leading up to the top of the cliff. Having
provided themselves with a strong iron bar, a rope, and several stout
sticks, Frank and Dick started out for Ben Galt, accompanied by a Scotch
gillie. They climbed to the top of the cliff without much difficulty,
and drove the iron bar firmly into a crevice of the rock. Then Frank
tied one end of the rope round his waist, and having fastened the other
to the iron bar, he passed the middle of the rope round it in a loop,
and told the others how to pay it out in sailor fashion. This done he
dropped over the edge of the cliff, and began his descent.
The boys had seen the eagles starting out upon their morning hunt, as
they were on their way to Ben Galt. The birds were nowhere in sight when
Frank swung himself from the cliff, and he had no fear of an attack. He
was careful, nevertheless, to carry a good stout stick with him. He
dropped upon the edge where the nest was built, and drew down just
enough rope to allow him to move about freely. The nest was a flat pile
or floor of sticks, covered with rushes, heath, and grass. It was not
hollowed out, but the eaglets upon it were protected to some extent by
the overhanging of the cliff itself. About the nest lay the scattered
bones of hares, rabbits, and moor-fowl, with here and there a larger one
which might have belonged to some young lamb or kid.
Frank stood looking at the nest for a few minutes before he took up one
of the young birds. The eaglet gaped hungrily as he lifted it up, and
made a sort of screeching noise, struggling apparently to reach
something behind Frank. He turned quickly, and was horrified to see one
of the parent birds sweeping up from the valley below. His first impulse
was to give the signal for those above to haul him up, and to jump off
the edge at once; but a moment's reflection showed him that it would be
foolish to do so. The eagle was close upon him, and he saw that he would
be much more helpless dangling at the end of a rope, than standing
firmly upon his feet. So he withdrew as far as he could under the
shelter of the overhanging rock, and waited, stick in hand, for the
angry bird. As it came up, he hit out with all his force. It was well
that he had remained where he was, for the eagle was placed at a
disadvantage by having to draw in its wings in order to approach him.
With gaping beak and extended claws it flew at him, but before it could
touch him he delivered another heavy blow at its neck, and three or four
in quick succession upon its shoulders. The first blow crippled it for
the moment, and the succession of them so disabled it that it dropped
in the air, and fell fluttering helplessly down into the valley.
Frank cast a quick glance across the sky, and saw the companion eagle
returning high in the air. The pair had evidently been hunting in their
usual way, one near the ground, and the other at a great height. He saw
that he had no time to lose. He gave three sharp tugs at the rope, and
sprang from the ledge. In a few minutes he was drawn up safely to the
top of the cliff, carrying the eaglet in his arm. The returning eagle
flew straight to the nest; then, hearing the cries of his wounded
companion, he directed his course to where it lay. The two boys and the
gillie, finding the eagles' attention diverted from them, made haste to
return to the valley, glad to have escaped without injury.
FAIRY SONG.
Ding-dong,
The Sun has gone:
A crimson night-gown he put on:
I saw him cover up his head:
Ding dong,
He's now in bed.
Fairy maid,
Come to the glade:
The meadow is with pearls arrayed:
The moonbeams cling to every tree
Lovingly.
From thy bower
To dance an hour
Come, and leave the cosy flower
That cradles thee.
Fairy man,
Arise, arise!
Stars are dancing in the skies:
Leaves are dancing on the trees
To the music of night's breeze.
Come a-tripping,
Come a-tripping,
Time is slipping fast away,
Ever slipping towards the day!
Drag each lazy fairy-fellow
From his sleepy bed;
Dress him up in crocus yellow,
Or in roses red.
Arise, arise!
Stars are kissing in the skies.
Ding-dong,
The Sun has gone:
A crimson night-gown he put on:
I saw him cover up his head:
Ding-dong,
He's safe in bed.
REGIMENTS IN THE CITY.
The regiment of the Third Grenadier Guards not long ago changed its
quarters from the Tower to the Wellington Barracks, and marched past the
Mansion House in the City of London in full panoply of war, band
playing, colours flying, and bayonets glittering in the bright
sunshine.
Before, however, their Colonel could thus proudly lead his regiment
through the old historic streets of London, he had to obtain permission
from the Lord Mayor, who, by virtue of a power dating back to a very
remote period, can refuse the marching of troops through the City
without his permission.
Two regiments only are exceptions to this law, the 'Buffs,' or East Kent
Regiment, and the Honourable Artillery Company; both these are descended
from the old trained bands of the City, and therefore have the right to
march through when they will, with arms and unfurled colours.
Unfurled colours, it may be mentioned, always claim great honour and
respect. When first presented to a regiment, the officer receives them
on bended knee, and to this day very many people raise their hats to the
colours as they are carried by.
HEROES AND HEROINES OF FAMOUS BOOKS.
IV.--THE STORY OF SINBAD THE SAILOR
(From the 'Arabian Nights.')
There once lived in Bagdad a poor porter, whose name was Hindbad. One
day, during the excessive heat of summer, he was carrying a heavy load
from one end of the city to the other, and, just as he was feeling very
tired of his burden, came upon a street refreshed by a gentle breeze.
The pavement was sprinkled with rose-water, and in a fine position,
close to the street, stood a splendid mansion. Asking whose house it
was, Hindbad was told that it was the residence of Sinbad the Sailor,
'that famous voyager who had sailed over all the seas under the sun.'
Hindbad could not help thinking how different this man's situation was
from his own, and he exclaimed in a loud voice, 'Alas, what a difference
there is between Sinbad and myself! I suffer daily a thousand ills, and
find the greatest difficulty in providing my wretched family with bad
barley bread, whilst Sinbad spends his riches freely, and enjoys every
pleasure. What has he done to be so happy, or I to be so unhappy?'
As he said this, he struck the ground with his foot angrily, and stood
there looking at the house, the picture of despair. As he remained thus,
a servant came out from the great house, and, taking hold of his arm,
said, 'Come, follow me; my master, Sinbad, wishes to speak with you.'
Very soon Hindbad was brought into the presence of the great man, who
was surrounded by a crowd of officers and servants. He was a very grave
and venerable person, with a long white beard. The poor porter felt very
much afraid when he saw so much magnificence; but Sinbad drove away his
fears by his kindness, and helped him to the choicest dishes.
After the feast Sinbad addressed Hindbad by the title of 'brother,' and
asked his name and profession. Hindbad answered him faithfully. Sinbad
wished to know what it was he had said in the street, and this also
Hindbad told him. Then Sinbad pointed out how foolish the porter's anger
and envy had been, since he did not really know whether this wealth had
not been won worthily by toil and hardship; and when Hindbad began to
see that he had spoken without thought, Sinbad went on to give some
account of his adventures in seven voyages that he had made on different
seas. We shall not narrate the whole of these adventures during the
various voyages, but shall only take two of them, one of which has
passed into a proverb.
When Sinbad was a young man, he spent the fortune he inherited from his
father foolishly. But there came a day, happily while he was still
young, when he saw his folly, and determined to use what was left of his
fortune in a better manner. As a first step in this direction, he sought
the advice of some merchants who traded by sea, with the result that he
embarked with several of them in a vessel which they had fitted out at
their united expense. It was a lovely day when they set sail, but before
long the wind fell, and they were becalmed off a small island. The
captain ordered the sails to be furled, and gave permission for those
who wished to go ashore. Amongst those who took advantage of the
permission was Sinbad himself. He and his comrades sat down to lunch on
one of the greenest parts of the island, and had just begun their meal,
when the island suddenly trembled, and they felt a great shock. They at
first supposed that it was an earthquake, but in this they were
mistaken, for the island turned out to be nothing more nor less than a
huge whale! The most active of the party jumped into the boat, while
others threw themselves into the water to swim to the ship. Sinbad
himself was still on the 'island' when it plunged into the sea. He had
only time, as he sank, to catch hold of a piece of wood which had been
brought to make a fire with. A breeze had sprung up, and the captain of
the ship set sail, leaving Sinbad, whom he had possibly not missed, to
the mercy of the waves.
At last a great wave dashed Sinbad, nearly exhausted, on to an island
which, this time, he found to be really good firm earth. The men of the
island were kind to him, and told him that had he been a day later he
would very likely have perished from starvation, for on the following
day they were leaving that part of the island, with the horses which
they were to take to the King.
The King received Sinbad in a friendly manner, and the wanderer stayed
in the chief city for some time. At length, one day, when he was
standing near the harbour, he saw a ship come towards the land. It was
loaded with goods, and as he was looking he saw his own name on some of
the packages, and knew them to be those which he had left behind him in
the vessel. On making inquiries of the captain, whom he recollected as
the captain with whom he had formerly sailed, he was told that the
parcels belonged to 'a merchant of Bagdad, named Sinbad.' Of course, it
took but a short time to convince the captain that the man to whom he
was speaking was the missing passenger. Sinbad related his adventures,
and was soon in possession of his merchandise again. He selected from it
some of the most valuable things, and presented them to the King of the
island. He sold the remainder for a good sum of money, and at length
returned in the ship to his native land, where he was received by his
family and friends with great joy.
(_Concluded on page 354._)
[Illustration: "'My master wishes to speak with you.'"]
[Illustration: "He saw an old man, who seemed to be very weary."]
HEROES AND HEROINES OF FAMOUS BOOKS.
IV.--THE STORY OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.
(From the 'Arabian Nights.')
(_Concluded from page 351._)
Sinbad bought a magnificent house and grounds, and thought of settling
down and forgetting all the disagreeable things that had happened to
him; but this state of idleness did not please his active turn of mind,
and he soon gave it up and took to his travels again. He made no less
than seven voyages before he retired and settled down with his family.
On one of these voyages he was again wrecked, and after a narrow escape
from drowning, was cast up on another island. He wandered along the
shore for some time, and presently came upon a little stream. On the
banks of this brook he saw an old man seated, who seemed to be very
broken down and weary. 'I approached and saluted him,' said Sinbad to
Hindbad, 'but instead of replying he made signs to me to take him on my
shoulders and cross the brook, making me understand that he wanted to
gather some fruit.' This Sinbad did, and when he had reached the other
side of the stream with his heavy load, he stopped and asked the old man
to get down.
But then a strange thing happened. 'This old man,' said Sinbad, 'who
appeared so decrepit, nimbly threw his legs, which I now saw were
covered with a hard skin, over my neck, and seated himself on my
shoulders, at the same time squeezing my throat so tightly that I
expected to be strangled. I was so alarmed that I fainted away.' The old
man, however, would not loose his hold, but made his prisoner carry him
and gather fruit for him, and work for him generally, without paying him
any money or allowing him any liberty, merely raining down blows on him
for all that he did.
But at last, one day, Sinbad's opportunity came. The old man having
taken a drink which Sinbad had prepared for him out of some grapes he
found, became drowsy, and began to sway about on the shoulders of his
carrier, who, understanding how things were, threw his burden to the
ground, and thus got rid of him. Overjoyed at being once again free, he
walked towards the sea-shore, and here, to his great joy, he met some
people who belonged to a vessel which had anchored there to get fresh
water. He told them of his adventures, and they assured him that he had
fallen into the hands of the Old Man of the Sea, adding, 'You are the
first whom he has not strangled; he never left those whom he had once
mastered till he had put an end to their lives. The sailors and
merchants who land here never dare approach him except in a strong
body.'
No doubt _Chatterbox_ readers have often heard the phrase, 'The old man
of the sea,' which is only another term for a weight that we have taken
upon ourselves and cannot shake off. Thus, if a man is in debt, and
cannot get clear, the debt is said to be a veritable 'old man of the
sea' to him who carries the burden.
All Sinbad's fatigue at last ended, and he arrived happily at Bagdad,
where he lived a quiet and worthy life till the hour of his death.
Hindbad, when he heard the tale, was obliged to admit that the man whose
riches he had so envied had not won them without fearful perils, and
that his own miseries, as compared with those undergone by the owner of
the mansion, were as nothing; and Sinbad, remembering what he had once
suffered himself, behaved kindly and generously to the porter, making
him his friend, and promising him that all his life he should have
reason to remember Sinbad the Sailor.
AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.
A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.
(_Continued from page 349._)