"WHAT'S THE MATTER?"
The night proved to be brilliant, for the moon was nearly at its full,
so that, the wind being favourable and the current swift, sunrise the
next morning found the fugitive far beyond pursuit. There was not a
boat in sight, and as far as he could see on either side stretched the
wide-open country, from the winding river's banks right away to the
distant hills; and when at times as the day wore on, with the boat
gliding down fast, any craft came in sight, Stan had his choice of sides
to take on the great river, and naturally he hugged the shore opposite
to that taken by the trading-junk or smaller boat. Now and then he
could see farm-buildings or clusters of village cottages, with an
occasional pagoda. Once he passed a more pretentious collection of
houses, like a small town, but it was some distance up a stream that
joined the river; and as he sailed farther on, it was into cultivated
land where traces of inhabitants were very few. Towards evening he took
advantage of the fact that there was neither house nor boat in sight to
run his little craft ashore where a patch of woodland came right down to
the stream; and here in an opening he collected sufficient dead branches
and twigs to make a fire, whose smoke was diffused among the boughs
overhead, feeding it well till there were plenty of glowing embers, over
which he roasted the best of his fish. He spent an hour or so in eating
heartily and, after roasting, cooling down enough in a pot he found in
the boat so as to have an ample supply for the next two days.
Grilled fish and cold river water seemed to ask for something else, but
Stan had plenty of strong young appetite, and he was ready to
congratulate himself upon having done so well; and in excellent spirits
he quenched the fire with the water-pot when he had done, and pushed off
at once.
That late afternoon and evening he sailed on till the moon was right
overhead, when, feeling more secure, he made fast to a tree; and utterly
unable to battle against an overpowering feeling of drowsiness, he slept
in the bottom of the boat, with the matting sail for cover, till the
morning sun was well up.
That day, as he was passing a solitary house about a hundred yards from
the bank, where he could see a couple of women at work in an enclosed
field, he ran the boat inshore, the women in answer to his signs coming
to the bank to stare at him. Then by means of the little Chinese he
knew, and the offer of the figured white silk neckerchief he wore in
exchange, he not only obtained a good supply of cake-bread and some
eggs, but the women made him some tea before he pushed off again.
Encouraged by his success, he fished the next day, had excellent sport,
and bartered some of his prizes at a house for a couple of dozen fine
potatoes, whose fate it was later on to be roasted in the embers of one
of his fires.
And in this fashion, without any noteworthy experience, Stan dropped
down the river, losing count of the days in the monotony of the journey,
but always obtaining a sufficiency of provisions of some kind or another
in exchange for the plentiful supply of fish he caught in the evenings
after sundown, or else for some portion of his clothes--for his watch,
money, and knife had disappeared in the prison, he never knew how.
In fact, the escape down the river, under the happy circumstances which
fell to his lot, was simple in the extreme, it being easy enough to
avoid the boats and junks he met, as well as the more inhabited parts of
the shore.
He kept a sharp lookout during the last three days, expecting every hour
to catch sight of the great _hong_ towering up by the right bank of the
river; but it was far longer than he expected before it appeared, and
even then proved to be much more distant than he could have believed.
At last, however, there it was, with a river-boat drawn up to the wharf,
and by degrees he made out one of the big coolies; then Lawrence, the
foreman, came out of the office door, but he took no notice of the white
figure in the little native boat when Stan stood up and waved his hand.
"Why, I should have thought he would have known me directly," grumbled
Stan to himself. "Ah! now we shall see," he cried joyously as a tall
familiar figure came out, crossed the wharf, and stood talking to some
one in the river-boat.
Stan waved his hand so excitedly now that he was seen, and he noted that
the tall figure shaded its eyes and then turned to speak to one of the
boatmen, who hurried in through the door of the warehouse and returned
with something which the tall figure held up to its eyes.
"He'll see me now," said Stan to himself.
He was right, for the next minute a hand was being waved by the manager,
who stood ready to exchange grips with Stan as he ran his boat up
alongside the wharf and stepped ashore.
That evening was passed in the relation of adventures and a discussion
about the fate of Wing.
"I'm afraid--very much afraid--that he was killed by the savages," said
Stan sadly at last.
"Savages--cowardly savages!" cried Blunt angrily. "But I don't know;
old Wing is a very slippery gentleman, and knows his way about pretty
well. I'm not going to give him up for a bad job yet."
"You think he has escaped?" said Stan excitedly.
"I hope so," was the reply. "Things are not so bad as they might have
been. You see that amongst the soldiery there is a feeling of respect
for the English name."
"Respect!" cried Stan indignantly. "You don't fully grasp how they
treated me."
"Yes, I do, Lynn; for they didn't kill you, and with people who hold
life so cheaply that is saying a great deal. Well, my lad, it has been
an adventure that you will never forget, and I'm very glad you have
escaped so well. You don't feel much the worse for it all?"
"Not in the least. But it's delightful to get to civilisation again,
and I'm looking forward to lying in a clean bed once more. I shall
sleep to-night after what you have said about Wing."
"I suppose so. But I say," continued Blunt dryly; "wouldn't you have
liked to bring that monkey away with you?"
"I should," cried Stan eagerly.
"Yes, of course; but it's as well not. I know those chaps. They're
wonderfully strong and vicious. Only safe in a cage. We couldn't have
done with him here. I say, shouldn't you like to make one with me in an
expedition to knock that prison to pieces?"
"Yes," cried Stan eagerly. "Could it be done?"
"Yes, if we went to war; but I dare say if proper application were made
we could get compensation. We shall see I say, though, what about that
gathering of war-junks you saw? Not piratical craft, were they?"
"I don't know," replied Stan. "I had thought no more of them. I
thought more, however, of that poor boy's boat that I took."
"Ah! that was a bit of an annexation. Never mind; I'll send it back to
the Chinese merchants we deal with; they'll find out whom it belongs
to."
"'Longs to," said Stan slowly.
"Hullo!" cried Blunt. "What's the matter? Feel ill?"
"Hi? I--Oh, I can't help it; I'm so stupidly sleepy I can't keep my
eyes open, and I could hardly understand what you said last--so
dreadfully drowsy I don't know what to do."
"I'll tell you," said Blunt, smiling.
"Do, please. Go and bathe my face?"
"No," said Blunt. "Off with you and tumble into bed."