"COME CUTTEE HEAD OFF."
The night's rest had chased away all the dull feelings that had troubled
Stan, and he woke up bright, elastic, and eager for the adventures of
the day. Look where he would on either shore, everything was
attractive. The country was highly cultivated, and dotted with farms
and dwellings belonging to what seemed to be a large and peaceable
population.
But his wondering gaze was soon checked by Wing, who came out of the
cabin smiling, with the announcement that "bleakfas'" was ready--an
announcement as pleasant in the confines of Asia as in homely Britain;
and, to the lad's delight, he found everything quite as civilised and
good.
Wing played the part of body-servant as ably as that of agent at the
_hong_; and after the meal was over, and the lad had returned outside to
watch the glorious panorama spread on either side of the river, his
guide came deprecatingly behind him rubbing his hands.
"Young Lynn wantee Wing?" he asked.
"Yes; tell me," said Stan, "how far have we to go up the river?"
"Velly long way," replied the Chinaman, holding up his left hand with
the digits spread out, and using his right index-finger for a pointer as
he counted, "One, two, flee, fow, fi'. Plap sick if wind no blow."
"And is it all beautiful?"
"Yes; allee velly beautiful. Wing countly velly fine place."
"But are we going to sail right on up the river like this?" asked Stan.
"Yes. 'Top many time. Buy cake--buy egg--buy fluit--buy duck--buy
chicken--buy lil pig. Plenty good to eat. Got lice, tea, suga'. You
likee have gun shoot duck?"
"No," said Stan; "there's too much to look at without bothering about a
gun."
"You likee ketchee fishee? Boy get line leady, put bait hook, young
Lynn ketchee fish? Velly good eat."
"Not to-day," replied Stan. "I want to use my eyes."
"Yes; velly good. Young Lynn use long eyes."
And before the lad had half-grasped the man's meaning, Wing had shuffled
back into the cabin, to return directly with his young master's black
leather binocular-case.
"Wing load long eyes--nocklah--leady to shoot?"
"Not yet," said Stan, smiling, as he took the case, and then seated
himself in a squeaking cane chair placed ready for his use, and sat back
to continue watching what at times looked to him like so much
beautifully painted china on a large scale.
Finding that his services were not required, Wing settled himself down
upon a stool just inside the cabin entrance, and at once became busy
without attracting his young master's notice, till the boat came abreast
of a beautifully shaped pagoda, evidently built with blue and white
tiles, and having a marvellously striking effect in the bright sunshine,
as it rose from a verdant gorge half-way up a rugged mountain-side whose
slope ran steeply down to the river, which bathed its rocky foot.
"What a landmark!" thought Stan. "If one were lost, how easy it would
be to look out for that tall temple and make for it!"
The glittering tiers of glazed earthenware rose one above the other,
each with its wavy, puckered eaves and points bearing little bells, the
topmost stories looking as if the builders had possessed ambitious ideas
of making the highest pinnacle pierce the soft blue sky; and as the
new-comer kept his admiring eyes fixed upon the beautiful work, the boat
glided on, forcing him to turn his head a little more and a little more,
till it was wrenched round so much that Wing began to appear at the
left-hand corners of his eyes, and interested the lad so much by the
busy interest he took in his work that Stan's gaze became gradually
transferred from the temple to the man, who went on with what he was
about in profound ignorance of being observed.
It was something fresh to Stan, who more than ever realised the fact
that, in spite of being heavy and plain of feature, Wing was a bit of a
buck in his way, and one who took great pains to impress upon the common
coolies with whom he came in contact that he belonged to a higher grade
of native--one of a class who never dreamed of defiling their hands with
hard work, and kept up at great trouble by many signs, in the shape of
finger-nails, of their being head and not hand craftsmen.
When Stan first caught sight of him, Wing was very carefully taking off
what looked like a wooden thimble, which had been formed by scraping and
filing down a suitable portion of a joint of bamboo; and as this
thimble-like piece was removed, the man again laid bare a long, curved
finger-nail, whose point, carefully polished and smoothed, was quite an
inch above the quick, and evidently "still growing."
"What silly nonsense!" thought Stan. "What an absurd idea! Why, if he
caught that nail in anything it would break down and become a painful
hang-nail."
But it soon became evident that Wing did not mean to break down that
nail, for after a certain amount of scraping and polishing it was
carefully covered with its thimble-like sheath, before the index-finger
on his left hand was uncovered to go through the same process as its
fellow.
As Stan watched he became aware of the fact that the left middle
finger-nail had met with a mishap, having in all probability been broken
right down, and was now being nursed up again to an aristocratic height.
All at once the man raised his eyes as if to see how his young master
was getting on, and started as he saw that he was being watched.
"Are we likely to see any pirates up the river here?" said Stan quietly.
The man shook his head.
"Wing no tell," he said gravely as he began to cover up his much-petted
nails. "Plaps many bad man--plaps not none 'tall. Plenty pilate
evely-wheah. Plenty bad soljee. Wing hope nevah see none no mo'.
Velly glad leave boat and begin walk back. Plenty pilate on livah;
plenty bad soljee way flom livah."
"Then the discharged soldiers are worse than the pirates, Wing?" said
Stan, smiling.
"Not laugh at," said the man solemnly. "Allee dleadful bad man. Killee
people and takee evely-thing away. Lun fass?"
"What do you mean--can I run fast?"
"Yes; lun velly fass?"
"Yes; I think so. Do you think we shall have to run away from some of
these men?"
"Yes. Lun away and hide."
"Oh, I suppose I could run well enough," replied Stan; "but of course I
don't want to."
"No; Wing don't want lun away, but pilate--soljee makee him. Velly
fass; come cuttee head off."
"This is pleasant!" thought Stan. "It sounds like jumping out of the
frying-pan into the fire."
The consequence of this conversation was that whenever Stan could tear
his eyes from the beauty and novelty of the shore on either side he was
narrowly scanning the various vessels which came into sight, the greater
part being small sailing-boats. But every now and then in the course of
the day the tall matting sails of some towering junk would come gliding
round a bend, partially hidden, perhaps, by the trees which fringed the
banks; and as soon as this was seen, Stan noted that there was a little
stir among the quiet, placid-looking boatmen, who began to whisper among
themselves. Then, if Wing had not seen the stranger, one of them moved
to where he stood and drew his attention to the distant object.
The guide seemed to be gifted with wonderfully powerful sight, which he
generally used with the result that every man was placed at his ease at
once. But not always. To use a nautical phrase, Wing was not upon
every occasion satisfied with the cut of the stranger's jib, and upon
these occasions he turned to his young master.
"Young Lynn lettee Wing look flou' double eyeglass?"
The binocular was handed at once, and after a great deal of focussing,
handed back.
"No pilate. Tea-boat. Allee good man."
Or he might speak with a greater tone of reverence as he shaded his
eyes:
"Big junk muchee fullee silk. Wing think junk go down whalf see Misteh
Blunt."
"Not enemies, then?" said Stan.
"No; velly good fliend."
"But there are the big eyes painted on each side of the bows."
"Yes," said Wing, smiling; "but good boat. No cally stink-pot to flow
on boat and set fi'. No big bang gong and lot fighting-man all ovah.
No. That velly good boat, and not hu't people. Wing tell when he sees
bad boat. Lun away then."
"On shore?"
"Tly go down livah get away. Pilate come too fass. Lun to side and go
light away."
"But what will become of the boat?" asked Stan.
"Pilate send man. Take allee good thing. Set fi'."
"Mr Blunt would not like that."
"No. Velly angly. Kick up big low and say Wing gleat fool."
"And what would you say?" asked Stan. "Say velly solly. Gleat pity
lose nice topside boat b'long Blunt."
"Of course."
"But much gleat pity let pilate man choppee off Wing head and all men
head. Can makee nicee boat again; can'tee makee velly good boatman."
Stan agreed that this was a perfectly sound argument, and during the
rest of the little voyage up the river he always felt greatly relieved
when his guide was able to announce that the boats they passed were men
of peace and not men-o'-war.
But as day succeeded day in lovely weather, and the journey continued
through a glorious country, the bugbear pirates died out of the lad's
thoughts; and on the last evening, when Wing announced that they would
land at a big city in the morning, and leave the boat to go back to the
_hong_, Stan was ready to believe that his guide had been playing
alarmist a great deal more than was necessary, and told him so. But
Wing shook his head. "No," he said; "pilate velly bad sometime."
"But we shall find the land journey no worse--there will be no
discharged soldiers wandering about ready to interfere with us?"
"Wing hope allee gone, but can'tee tell. Plenty fliend people heah.
Tell Wing when soljee come. Young Lynn and Wing lun away."