between whom there existed an old feud. The former, however, was the
stronger of the two; and accordingly Fêng disguised his feelings under
a specious appearance of friendship, though Hu never placed much faith
in his professions. One day they were drinking together, and being
both of them rather the worse for liquor, they began to brag of the
various exploits they had achieved. “What care I for poverty,” cried
Hu, “when I can lay a hundred ounces of silver on the table at a
moment’s notice?” Now Fêng was well aware of the state of Hu’s
affairs, and did not hesitate to scout such pretensions, until Hu
further informed him in perfect seriousness that the day before he had
met a merchant travelling with a large sum of money and had tumbled
him down a dry well by the wayside; in confirmation of which he
produced several hundred ounces of silver, which really belonged to a
brother-in-law on whose behalf he was managing some negotiation for
the purchase of land. When they separated, Fêng went off and gave
information to the magistrate of the place, who summoned Hu to answer
to the charge. Hu then told the actual facts of the case, and his
brother-in-law and the owner of the land in question corroborated his
statement. However, on examining the dry well by letting a man down
with a rope round him, lo! there was a headless corpse lying at the
bottom. Hu was horrified at this, and called Heaven to witness that he
was innocent; whereupon the magistrate ordered him twenty or thirty
blows on the mouth for lying in the presence of such irrefragable
proof, and cast him into the condemned cell, where he lay loaded with
chains. Orders were issued that the corpse was not to be removed, and
a notification was made to the people, calling upon the relatives of
the deceased to come forward and claim the body. Next day a woman
appeared, and said deceased was her husband; that his name was Ho, and
that he was proceeding on business with a large sum of money about him
when he was killed by Hu. The magistrate observed that possibly the
body in the well might not be that of her husband, to which the woman
replied that she felt sure it was; and accordingly the corpse was
brought up and examined, when the woman’s story was found to be
correct. She herself did not go near the body, but stood at a little
distance making the most doleful lamentations; until at length the
magistrate said, “We have got the murderer, but the body is not
complete; you go home and wait until the head has been discovered,
when life shall be given for life.” He then summoned Hu before him, and
told him to produce the head by the next day under penalty of severe
torture; but Hu only wandered about with the guard sent in charge of
him, crying and lamenting his fate, but finding nothing. The
instruments of torture were then produced, and preparations were made
as if for torturing Hu; however, they were not applied,[322] and
finally the magistrate sent him back to prison, saying, “I suppose
that in your hurry you didn’t notice where you dropped the head.” The
woman was then brought before him again; and on learning that her
relatives consisted only of one uncle, the magistrate remarked, “A
young woman like you, left alone in the world, will hardly be able to
earn a livelihood. [Here she burst into tears and implored the
magistrate’s pity.] The punishment of the guilty man has been already
decided upon, but until we get the head, the case cannot be closed. As
soon as it is closed, the best thing you can do is to marry again. A
young woman like yourself should not be in and out of a police-court.”
The woman thanked the magistrate and retired; and the latter issued a
notice to the people, calling upon them to make a search for the head.
On the following day, a man named Wang, a fellow villager of the
deceased, reported that he had found the missing head; and his report
proving to be true, he was rewarded with 1,000 _cash_. The magistrate
now summoned the woman’s uncle above-mentioned, and told him that the
case was complete, but that as it involved such an important matter as
the life of a human being, there would necessarily be some delay in
closing it for good and all.[323] “Meanwhile,” added the magistrate,
“your niece is a young woman and has no children; persuade her to
marry again and so keep herself out of these troubles, and never mind
what people may say.”[324] The uncle at first refused to do this; upon
which the magistrate was obliged to threaten him until he was
ultimately forced to consent. At this, the woman appeared before the
magistrate to thank him for what he had done; whereupon the latter
gave out that any person who was willing to take the woman to wife was
to present himself at his yamên. Immediately afterwards an application
was made--by the very man who had found the head. The magistrate then
sent for the woman and asked her if she could say who was the real
murderer; to which she replied that Hu Chêng had done the deed. “No!”
cried the magistrate; “it was not he. It was you and this man here.
[Here both began loudly to protest their innocence.] I have long known
this; but, fearing to leave the smallest loophole for escape, I have
tarried thus long in elucidating the circumstances. How [to the
woman], before the corpse was removed from the well, were you so
certain that it was your husband’s body? _Because you already knew he
was dead._ And does a trader who has several hundred ounces of silver
about him dress as shabbily as your husband was dressed? And you, [to
the man], how did you manage to find the head so readily? _Because you
were in a hurry to marry the woman._” The two culprits stood there as
pale as death, unable to utter a word in their defence; and on the
application of torture both confessed the crime. For this man, the
woman’s paramour, had killed her husband, curiously enough, about the
time of Hu Chêng’s braggart joke. Hu was accordingly released, but
Fêng suffered the penalty of a false accuser; he was severely
bambooed, and banished for three years. The case was thus brought to a
close without the wrongful punishment of a single person.
FOOTNOTES:
[322] See No. LXXIII., note 62.
[323] There is a widespread belief that human life in China is held at
a cheap rate. This may be accounted for by the fact that death is the
legal punishment for many crimes not considered capital in the West;
and by the severe measures that are always taken in cases of
rebellion, when the innocent and guilty are often indiscriminately
massacred. In times of tranquillity, however, this is not the case;
and the execution of a criminal is surrounded by a number of
formalities which go far to prevent the shedding of innocent blood.
The _Hsi-yüan-lu_ (see No. XIV., note 100) opens with the words,
“There is nothing more important than human life.”
[324] See No. LXVIII., note 30.
CLVII.
THE ROC.
Two herons built their nests under one of the ornaments on the roof of
a temple at Tientsin. The accumulated dust of years in the shrine
below concealed a huge serpent, having the diameter of a
washing-basin; and whenever the heron’s young were ready to fly, the
reptile proceeded to the nest and swallowed every one of them, to the
great distress of the bereaved parents. This took place three years
consecutively, and people thought the birds would build there no more.
However, the following year they came again; and when the time was
drawing nigh for their young ones to take wing, away they flew, and
remained absent for nearly three days. On their return, they went
straight to the nest, and began amidst much noisy chattering to feed
their young ones as usual. Just then the serpent crawled up to reach
his prey; and as he was nearing the nest the parent-birds flew out and
screamed loudly in mid-air. Immediately, there was heard a mighty
flapping of wings, and darkness came over the face of the earth, which
the astonished spectators now perceived to be caused by a huge bird
obscuring the light of the sun. Down it swooped with the speed of
wind or falling rain, and, striking the serpent with its talons, tore
its head off at a blow, bringing down at the same time several feet of
the masonry of the temple. Then it flew away, the herons accompanying
it as though escorting a guest. The nest too had come down, and of the
two young birds one was killed by the fall; the other was taken by the
priests and put in the bell tower, whither the old birds returned to
feed it until thoroughly fledged, when it spread its wings and was
gone.[325]
FOOTNOTE:
[325] This story is inserted chiefly in illustration of the fact that
all countries have a record of some enormous bird such as the _roc_ of
the “Arabian Nights.”
CLVIII.
THE FAITHFUL GANDER.[326]
A sportsman of Tientsin, having snared a wild goose, was followed to
his home by the gander, which flew round and round him in great
distress, and only went away at nightfall. Next day, when the
sportsman went out, there was the bird again; and at length it
alighted quite close to his feet. He was on the point of seizing it
when suddenly it stretched out its neck and disgorged a piece of pure
gold; whereupon, the sportsman, understanding what the bird meant,
cried out, “I see! this is to ransom your mate, eh?” Accordingly, he
at once released the goose, and the two birds flew away with many
expressions of their mutual joy, leaving to the sportsman nearly three
ounces of pure gold. Can, then, mere birds have such feelings as
these? Of all sorrows there is no sorrow like separation from those we
love; and it seems that the same holds good even of dumb animals.
FOOTNOTE:
[326] See No. XXXV., note 217.
CLIX.
THE ELEPHANTS AND THE LION.
A huntsman of Kuang-si, who was out on the hills with his bow and
arrows, lay down to rest awhile, and unwittingly fell fast asleep. As
he was slumbering, an elephant came up, and, coiling his trunk around
the man, carried him off. The latter gave himself up for dead; but
before long the elephant had deposited him at the foot of a tall tree,
and had summoned a whole herd of comrades, who crowded about the
huntsman as though asking his assistance. The elephant who had brought
him went and lay down under the tree, and first looked up into its
branches and then looked down at the man, apparently requesting him to
get up into the tree. So the latter jumped on the elephant’s back and
then clambered up to the topmost branch, not knowing what he was
expected to do next. By-and-by a lion[327] arrived, and from among
the frightened herd chose out a fat elephant, which he seemed as
though about to devour. The others remained there trembling, not
daring to run away, but looking wistfully up into the tree. Thereupon
the huntsman drew an arrow from his quiver and shot the lion dead, at
which all the elephants below made him a grateful obeisance. He then
descended, when the elephant lay down again and invited him to mount
by pulling at his clothes with its trunk. This he did, and was carried
to a place where the animal scratched the ground with its foot, and
revealed to him a vast number of old tusks. He jumped down and
collected them in a bundle, after which the elephant conveyed him to a
spot whence he easily found his way home.
FOOTNOTE:
[327] The term here used refers to a creature which partakes rather of
the fabulous than of the real. The _Kuang-yün_ says it is “a kind of
lion;” but other authorities describe it as a horse. Its favourite
food is tiger-flesh. Incense-burners are often made after the “lion”
pattern and called by this name, the smoke of the incense issuing from
the mouth of the animal, like our own gargoyles.
CLX.
THE HIDDEN TREASURE.
Li Yüeh-shêng was the second son of a rich old man who used to bury
his money, and who was known to his fellow-townsmen as “Old Crocks.”
One day the father fell sick, and summoned his sons to divide the
property between them.[328] He gave four-fifths to the elder and only
one-fifth to the younger, saying to the latter, “It is not that I love
your brother more than I love you: I have other money stored away, and
when you are alone I will hand that over to you.” A few days
afterwards the old man grew worse, and Yüeh-shêng, afraid that his
father might die at any moment, seized an opportunity of seeing him
alone to ask about the money that he himself was to receive. “Ah,”
replied the dying man, “the sum of our joys and of our sorrows is
determined by fate. You are now happy in the possession of a virtuous
wife, and have no right to an increase of wealth.” For, as a matter of
fact, this second son was married to a lady from the Ch‘ê family whose
virtue equalled that of any of the heroines of history: hence his
father’s remark. Yüeh-shêng, however, was not satisfied, and implored
to be allowed to have the money; and at length the old man got angry
and said, “You are only just turned twenty; you have known none of the
trials of life, and were I to give a thousand ounces of gold, it would
soon be all spent. Go! and, until you have drunk the cup of bitterness
to its dregs, expect no money from me.” Now Yüeh-shêng was a filial
son, and when his father spoke thus he did not venture to say any
more, and hoped for his speedy recovery that he might have a chance of
coaxing him to comply with his request. But the old man got worse and
worse, and at length died; whereupon the elder brother took no trouble
about the funeral ceremonies, leaving it all to the younger, who,
being an open-handed fellow, made no difficulties about the expense.
The latter was also fond of seeing a great deal of company at his
house, and his wife often had to get three or four meals a-day ready
for guests; and, as her husband did very little towards looking after
his affairs, and was further sponged upon by all the needy ones of the
neighbourhood, they were soon reduced to a state of poverty. The elder
brother helped them to keep body and soul together, but he died
shortly afterwards, and this resource was cut off from them. Then, by
dint of borrowing in the spring and repaying in the autumn,[329] they
still managed to exist, until at last it came to parting with their
land, and they were left actually destitute. At that juncture their
eldest son died, followed soon after by his mother; and Yüeh-shêng was
left almost by himself in the world. He now married the widow of a
sheep-dealer, who had a little capital; and she was very strict with
him, and wouldn’t let him waste time and money with his friends. One
night his father appeared to him and said, “My son, you have drained
your cup of bitterness to the dregs. You shall now have the money. I
will bring it to you.” When Yüeh-shêng woke up, he thought it was
merely a poor man’s dream; but the next day, while laying the
foundations of a wall, he did come upon a quantity of gold. And then
he knew what his father had meant by “when you are alone;” for of
those about him at that time, more than half were gone.
FOOTNOTES:
[328] The Law of Inheritance, as it obtains in China, has been ably
illustrated by Mr. Chal. Alabaster in Vols. V. and VI. of the _China
Review_. This writer states that “there seems to be no absolutely
fixed law in regard either of inheritance or testamentary dispositions
of property, but certain general principles are recognised which the
court will not allow to be disregarded without sufficient cause.” As a
rule the sons, whether by wife or concubine, share equally, and in
preference to daughters, even though there should be a written will in
favour of the latter.
[329] This has reference to the “seed-time and harvest.”
CLXI.
THE BOATMEN OF LAO-LUNG.
When His Excellency Chu was Viceroy of Kuangtung, there were constant
complaints from the traders of mysterious disappearances; sometimes as
many as three or four of them disappearing at once and never being
seen or heard of again. At length the number of such cases, filed of
course against some person or persons unknown, multiplied to such an
extent that they were simply put on record, and but little notice was
further taken of them by the local officials. Thus, when His
Excellency entered upon his duties, he found more than a hundred
plaints of the kind, besides innumerable cases in which the missing
man’s relatives lived at a distance and had not instituted
proceedings. The mystery so preyed upon the new Viceroy’s mind that he
lost all appetite for food; and when, finally, all the inquiries he
had set on foot resulted in no clue to an elucidation of these strange
disappearances, then His Excellency proceeded to wash and purify
himself, and, having notified the Municipal God,[330] he took to
fasting and sleeping in his study alone. While he was in ecstasy, lo!
an official entered, holding a tablet in his hand, and said that he
had come from the Municipal temple with the following instructions to
the Viceroy:--
“Snow on the whiskers descending:
Live clouds falling from heaven:
Wood in water buoyed up:
In the wall an opening effected.”
The official then retired, and the Viceroy waked up; but it was only
after a night of tossing and turning that he hit upon what seemed to
him the solution of the enigma. “The first line,” argued he, “must
signify _old_ (_lao_ in Chinese); the second refers to the
_dragon_[331] (_lung_ in Chinese); the third is clearly a _boat_; and
the fourth a _door_ here taken in its secondary sense--_man_.” Now, to
the east of the province, not far from the pass by which traders from
the north connect their line of trade with the southern seas, there
was actually a ferry known as the Old Dragon (_Lao-lung_); and thither
the Viceroy immediately despatched a force to arrest those employed in
carrying people backwards and forwards. More than fifty men were
caught, and they all confessed at once without the application of
torture. In fact, they were bandits under the guise of boatmen;[332]
and after beguiling passengers on board, they would either drug them
or burn stupefying incense until they were senseless, finally cutting
them open and putting a large stone inside to make the body sink. Such
was the horrible story, the discovery of which brought throngs to the
Viceroy’s door to serenade him in terms of gratitude and praise.[333]
FOOTNOTES:
[330] See No. I., note 36.
[331] Clouds being naturally connected in every Chinaman’s mind with
these fabulous creatures, the origin of which has been traced by some
to waterspouts. See No. LXXXI., note 84.
[332] “Boat-men” is the solution of the last two lines of the enigma.
[333] The commentator actually supplies a list of the persons who
signed a congratulatory petition to the Viceroy on the arrest and
punishment of the criminals.
CLXII.
THE PIOUS SURGEON.
A certain veterinary surgeon, named Hou, was carrying food to his
field labourers, when suddenly a whirlwind arose in his path. Hou
seized a spoon and poured out a libation of gruel, whereupon the wind
immediately dropped. On another occasion, he was wandering about the
municipal temple when he noticed an image of Liu Ch‘üan presenting the
melon,[334] in whose eye was a great splotch of dirt. “Dear me, Sir
Liu!” cried Hou, “who has been ill-using you like this?” He then
scraped away the dirt with his finger-nail, and passed on. Some years
afterwards, as he was lying down very ill, two lictors walked in and
carried him off to a yamên, where they insisted on his bribing them
heavily. Hou was at his wits’ end what to do; but just at that moment
a personage dressed in green robes came forth, who was greatly
astonished at seeing him there, and asked what it all meant. Our hero
at once explained; whereupon the man in green turned upon the lictors
and abused them for not shewing proper respect to Mr. Hou. Meanwhile a
drum sounded like the roll of thunder, and the man in green told Hou
that it was for the morning session, and that he would have to attend.
Leading Hou within he put him in his proper place, and, promising to
inquire into the charge against him, went forward and whispered a few
words to one of the clerks. “Oh,” said the latter, advancing and
making a bow to the veterinary surgeon, “yours is a trifling matter.
We shall merely have to confront you with a horse, and then you can go
home again.” Shortly afterwards, Hou’s case was called; upon which he
went forward and knelt down, as did also a horse which was prosecuting
him. The judge now informed Hou that he was accused by the horse of
having caused its death by medicines, and asked him if he pleaded
guilty or not guilty. “My lord,” replied Hou, “the prosecutor was
attacked by the cattle-plague, for which I treated him accordingly;
and he actually recovered from the disease, though he died on the
following day. Am I to be held responsible for that?” The horse now
proceeded to tell his story; and after the usual cross-examination and
cries for justice, the judge gave orders to look up the horse’s term
of life in the Book of Fate. Therein it appeared that the animal’s
destiny had doomed it to death on the very day on which it had died;
whereupon the judge cried out, “Your term of years had already
expired; why bring this false charge? Away with you!” and turning to
Hou, the judge added, “You are a worthy man, and may be permitted to
live.” The lictors were accordingly instructed to escort him back, and
with them went out both the clerk and the man in green clothes, who
bade the lictors take every possible care of Hou by the way. “You
gentlemen are very kind,” said Hou, “but I haven’t the honour of your
acquaintance, and should be glad to know to whom I am so much
indebted.” “Three years ago,” replied the man in green, “I was
travelling in your neighbourhood, and was suffering very much from
thirst, which you relieved for me by a few spoonfuls of gruel. I have
not forgotten that act.” “And my name,” observed the other, “is
Liu Ch‘üan. You once took a splotch of dirt out of my eye that was
troubling me very much. I am only sorry that the wine and food we have
down here is unsuitable to offer you. Farewell.” Hou now understood
all that had happened, and went off home with the two lictors where he
would have regaled them with some refreshment, but they refused to
take even a cup of tea. He then waked up and found that he had been
dead for two days. From this time forth he led a more virtuous life
than ever, always pouring out libations to Liu Ch‘üan at all the
festivals of the year. Thus he reached the age of eighty, a hale and
hearty man, still able to sit in the saddle; until one day he met
Liu Ch‘üan riding on horseback, as if about to make a long journey.
After a little friendly conversation, the latter said to him, “Your
time is up, and the warrant for your arrest is already issued; but I
have ordered the constables to delay awhile, and you can now spend
three days in preparing for death, at the expiration of which I will
come and fetch you. I have purchased a small appointment for you in
the realms below,[335] by which you will be more comfortable.” So Hou
went home and told his wife and children; and after collecting his
friends and relatives, and making all necessary preparations, on the
evening of the fourth day he cried out, “Liu Ch‘üan has come!” and,
getting into his coffin,[336] lay down and died.
FOOTNOTES:
[334] When the soul of the Emperor T‘ai Tsung of the T‘ang dynasty was
in the infernal regions, it promised to send Yen-lo (the Chinese
_Yama_ or Pluto) a melon; and when His Majesty recovered from the
trance into which he had been plunged, he gave orders that his promise
was to be fulfilled. Just then a man, named Liu Ch‘üan, observed a
priest with a hairpin belonging to his wife, and misconstruing the
manner in which possession of it had been obtained, abused his wife so
severely that she committed suicide. Liu Ch‘üan himself then
determined to follow her example, and convey the melon to Yen-lo; for
which act he was subsequently deified. See the _Hsi-yu-chi_, Section
XI.
[335] As the Chinese believe that their disembodied spirits proceed to
a world organised on much the same model as the one they know, so do
they think that there will be social distinctions of rank and
emolument proportioned to the merits of each.
[336] A dying man is almost always moved into his coffin to die; and
aged persons frequently take to sleeping regularly in the coffins
provided against the inevitable hour by the pious thoughtfulness of a
loving son. Even in middle life Chinese like to see their coffins
ready for them, and store them sometimes on their own premises,
sometimes in the outhouses of a neighbouring temple.
CLXIII.
ANOTHER SOLOMON.
At T‘ai-yüan there lived a middle-aged woman with her widowed
daughter-in-law. The former was on terms of too great intimacy with a
notably bad character of the neighbourhood; and the latter, who
objected very strongly to this, did her best to keep the man from the
house. The elder woman accordingly tried to send the other back to her
family, but she would not go; and at length things came to such a pass
that the mother-in-law actually went to the mandarin of the place and
charged her daughter-in-law with the offence she herself was
committing. When the mandarin inquired the name of the man concerned,
she said she had only seen him in the dark and didn’t know who he was,
referring him for information to the accused. The latter, on being
summoned, gave the man’s name, but retorted the charge on her
mother-in-law; and when the man was confronted with them, he promptly
declared both their stories to be false. The mandarin, however, said
there was a _primâ facie_ case against him, and ordered him to be
severely beaten, whereupon he confessed that it was the
daughter-in-law whom he went to visit. This the woman herself flatly
denied, even under torture; and on being released, appealed to a
higher court, with a very similar result. Thus the case dragged on,
until a Mr. Sun, who was well-known for his judicial acumen, was
appointed district magistrate at that place. Calling the parties
before him, he bade his lictors prepare stones and knives, at which
they were much exercised in their minds, the severest tortures allowed
by law being merely gyves and fetters.[337] However, everything was
got ready, and the next day Mr. Sun proceeded with his investigation.
After hearing all that each one of the three had to say, he delivered
the following judgment:--“The case is a simple one; for although I
cannot say which of you two women is the guilty one, there is no doubt
about the man, who has evidently been the means of bringing discredit
on a virtuous family. Take those stones and knives there and put him
to death. I will be responsible.” Thereupon the two women began to
stone the man, especially the younger one, who seized the biggest
stones she could see and threw them at him with all the might of her
pent-up anger; while the mother-in-law chose small stones and struck
him on non-vital parts.[338] So with the knives: the daughter-in-law
would have killed him at the first blow, had not the mandarin stopped
her, and said, “Hold! I now know who is the guilty woman.” The
mother-in-law was then tortured until she confessed, and the case was
thus terminated.
FOOTNOTES:
[337] See No. LXXIII., note 62.
[338] The Chinese distinguish sixteen vital spots on the front of the
body and six on the back, with thirty-six and twenty non-vital spots
in similar positions, respectively. They allow, however, that a severe
blow on a non-vital spot might cause death, and _vice versâ_.
CLXIV.
THE INCORRUPT OFFICIAL.
Mr. Wu, Sub-prefect of Chi-nan, was an upright man, and would have no
share in the bribery and corruption which was extensively carried on,
and at which the higher authorities connived, and in the proceeds of
which they actually shared. The Prefect tried to bully him into
adopting a similar plan, and went so far as to abuse him in violent
language; upon which Mr. Wu fired up and exclaimed, “Though I am but a
subordinate official, you should impeach me for anything you have
against me in the regular way; you have not the right to abuse me
thus. Die I may, but I will never consent to degrade my office and
turn aside the course of justice for the sake of filthy lucre.” At
this outbreak the Prefect changed his tone, and tried to soothe
him.... [How dare people accuse the age of being corrupt, when it is
themselves who will not walk in the straight path.] One day after this
a certain fox-medium[339] came to the Prefect’s yamên just as a feast
was in full swing, and was thus addressed by a guest:--“You who
pretend to know everything, say how many officials there are in this
Prefecture.” “_One_,” replied the medium; at which the company laughed
heartily, until the medium continued, “There are really seventy-two
holders of office, but Mr. Sub-prefect Wu is the only one who can
justly be called an official.”
FOOTNOTE:
[339] Certain classes of soothsayers are believed by the Chinese to be
possessed by foxes, which animals have the power of looking into the
future, &c., &c.
APPENDIX A.