REST AND REFRESHMENT.

Ching it was, and the men sent up a cheer as out pursuers grappled the

side of our boat, held on, and our messenger came on board smiling.

"Velly muchee big job you catchee," he said. "Why, what fo' you lun

along so fast?"

"Why, Ching," cried Mr Brooke, "what does this mean?"

"No get away. Muchee velly bad man. No get to boat. Allee fightee.

Get 'nother boat, and come along."

"You couldn't get on board us again?"

"No; too many velly bad men. Plenty blead; plenty fish; plenty meat.

Velly nice. All in boat. Velly long time catchee."

Our men laid down the oars with a great deal of care and precision, as

if it was important that they should not be a quarter of an inch wrong,

and our coxswain doubled himself up to indulge in a good long

comfortable chuckle, while I could not help whispering to the young

lieutenant--

"I say, Mr Brooke, I wasn't very far wrong?"

"No, my lad," he said, with a smile; "I give in. I was all prejudice

against the poor fellow, but I was justified in a great deal that I

said. Appearances were dead against him. There, I was too hasty."

Meanwhile the stores Ching had bought had been transferred to our boat,

and he had told us a little about his adventures--how, when he had made

his purchases, he had returned to the landing-place and found the crowd

gathering, and heard the men declaiming against the foreign devils who

had stolen the boat they were using. The people were growing so much

excited that he soon found it would be impossible for him to go off with

his load to join us, and as soon as he heard the most prominent of the

men shouting to us to come ashore, he felt that his first duty was to

warn us not to.

"Catchee allee. Takee off to plison. In plison velly hard get out

again," he said, and then went on to tell us how he felt it would be

best to hire a boat to come off to us from higher up the river, but in

spite of all his efforts he could not get one and his stores on board

till he saw the other boats push off to the attack; and then, when his

men willingly tried to overtake us, urged on by promises of good pay,

they had been mistaken by us for enemies.

"But velly good boat, sail velly fast. You tink it Ching coming?"

"No, of course not," I said.

"No, not tink it Ching. Send boat 'way now? Ching go?"

"No, no," said Mr Brooke eagerly. "You will stop with us."

"You no velly closs with Ching now?"

"Cross? No; very grateful."

"You no tink Ching like velly bad man pilate?"

"I think you a very good, faithful fellow," said Mr Brooke, and the

Chinaman's face lit up.

"Send boat 'way now?"

"Stop; I must pay the men."

Ching shook his head.

"No, Ching pay. Velly clebby pay money. Two dollar pay men."

He went back into the other boat, and, producing some money from up his

sleeve, he settled with the men, who nodded, smiled, and, as soon as

Ching had returned on board, were about to push off, when Mr Brooke

stopped them.

"Tell them we shall return the boat as soon as we have done with it."

"Yes; no go steal boat. Plenty boat in steamy-ship. Tell them capen

give dollar, eh?"

"Yes, tell them that."

"You likee other boat and men?"

"Well, I don't know," said Mr Brooke, hesitating, as if he thought some

use might be made of such a fast-sailing craft.

"Ching askee."

He entered into a short conversation with the boatmen, who smiled at

first, then scowled, stamped, and gesticulated.

Ching nodded and turned to us.

"Say, go to big steamy-ship and Queen Victolia jolly sailor, but no to

see pilate. 'Flaid cut off head."

"Then they must go; send them off."

The men laughed, nodded at us in the most friendly manner, then hoisted

their sail and went back up the river. Then, provisions being served

out, our lads sat eating and chatting, while our boat sped seaward

towards where the two junks lay windbound not many miles away, or else

waiting for some reason, one which Mr Brooke decided at last to be for

reinforcements.

"Yes," he said, as I sat munching away at some pleasantly sweet-tasted

bread which Ching had brought on board, "depend upon it, we shall see

boats or a small junk go out and join them by and by."

It is curious how old tunes bring up old scenes. Most people say the

same, but at the risk of being considered one who thinks too much of

eating, I am going to say that nothing brings up old scenes to my memory

more than particular kinds of food.

For instance, there is a flat, square kind of gingerbread which we boys

used to know as "parliament." I cannot ever see that without thinking

of going to school on sunny mornings, and stopping by one particular

ditch to bang the wasps with my school-bag, swung round by its string.

It was only the seniors who sported a strap for their books; and in

those days my legs, from the bottom of my drawers to the top of my white

socks, were bare, and my unprotected knees in a state of chip, scale,

and scar, from many tumbles on the gravelly path.

Then, again, pancakes will bring up going round the stables and cowhouse

in search of stray new-laid white eggs, which I bore off, greatly to the

disgust of the great black cock, with the yellow saddle-hackles and the

tall red serrated comb.

Fish naturally bring up the carp in the muddy pond which we used to

catch, and gloat over their golden glories; or the brazen small-scaled

tench, with all the surroundings at Norwood, where the builder has run

riot, and terraces and semi-detached villas--I hope well drained--cover

the pool whence we used to drag forth miniature alligators with a worm.

I could go on for pages about those recollections, but one more will

suffice:--Sweet cakey bread always brings up Mother Crissell, who must

have made a nice little independence by selling us boys that sweet cake

dotted with currants, some of which were swollen out to an enormous

size, and lay in little pits on the top. These currants we used to dig

out as _bonnes bouches_ from the dark soft brown, but only to find them

transformed into little bubbles of cindery lava, which crunched between

the teeth.

And so it was that, as I sat sailing along at the mouth of that swift,

yellow, muddy Chinese river, munching the sweet cakey bread Ching had

brought on board, and gazing from time to time at the geese we had shot

and had no means of cooking, memory carried me back to Mother Crissell's

shop, and that rather bun-faced old lady, who always wore a blue cotton

gown covered with blue spots and of no particular shape, for the amiable

old woman never seemed to have any waist. There was the inside of her

place, and the old teapot on the chimney-piece, in which she deposited

her money and whence she drew forth change.

And then, in a moment, I seemed to be back in the great playground; then

away on to the common, where we hunted for lizards amongst the furze,

and got more pricks than reptiles. I saw, too, the big old

horse-chestnuts round by the great square pond where you could never

catch any fish, but always tried for them on account of the character it

had of holding monsters, especially eels as big and round as your arm.

I never knew any one catch a fish in that pond, but we did a deal of

anticipation there, and watched the dragon-flies flit to and fro, and

heard the rustle of they transparent wings. Splendid ones they were.

First of all, there came early in the summer the thin-bodied ones, some

of a steely-blue, some dark with clear wings, and with them those with

the wings clouded with dark patches. Then came the large, short,

flat-bodied, pointed-tailed fellows, some blue, some olive-green. Late

in the season, affecting the damp spots of the common among the furze

bushes more than the pond, came the largest long-bodied flies, which

hawked to and fro over the same ground, and played havoc among their

prey.

You could hear the school-bell from there--the big one in the turret on

the top of the great square brick mansion; and in imagination I saw that

pond, and the dragon-flies, lizards, and furze, the shady finger-leaved

chestnuts, and even heard that bell, while the sweet cakey bread lasted;

and then I was back in the Chinese boat on the Chinese river, for Ching

leaned over me with something in rice-paper.

"You likee bit piecee flesh meat?"

"What is it?" I said, looking hard at the rather tempting brown meat

with its white fat.

"Velly nice," he said. "Got pep' salt. Velly good."

"Yes," I said; "but is it good? I mean something I should like to eat?"

"Yes; loast lit' piggee; velly nice."

He was quite right--it was; and after I had finished I went forward to

see if I could get something to drink. Jecks was inspecting the big

earthen vessel with a tin baler, and I appealed to him.

"How is the water?" I said.

"Well, sir, yer can't say quite well thankye, 'cause it arn't right

colour yet, and it's got a sort o' fishing-boat flavour in it, as puts

yer in mind o' Yarmouth market at herring time, but it ain't so

pea-soupy as it were, and it might be worse. Try a tot, sir?"

"Yes," I said; "I'm so thirsty, I must have a drop."

He dipped the baler in carefully, and brought it out dripping.

"Has anybody else drunk any?" I said.

"Oh yes, sir, all on us; and I says to you as I says to them, you shut

your eyes, sir, and think you've been eating bloaters, or codfish, or

fried sole. Then tip it down quick, and you'll says it's lovely."

"Ugh!" I ejaculated, as I looked down into the baler, "why, it looks

like a dose of rhubarb."

"Well, it do, sir, a little; but you're a spyling of it a deal by

looking at it first. You shut your eyes, sir, as I said; me and my

mates thought as it's good strong water with a deal o' what some people

calls nootriment in it."

"None for me, thank you," I said, handing back the tin.

"Bring me some water, Mr Herrick, when you've done," said Mr Brooke

from where he sat holding the tiller.

"Yes, sir," I said; and, holding the baler to my lips, I took a hearty,

hasty draught, for it was cool and refreshing to my dry mouth and

throat, and, that done, I refilled the baler and took it aft.

"Humph! rather muddy, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, smiling; "but one can't

carry a filter about at a time like this."

He tossed off the water without hesitation, gave one of the men the tin

to take back, and then altered the course of the boat a little, so as to

hug the shore.

"We must not let the pirates suspect that we are following," he said.

"What are we going to do, Mr Brooke?" I said.

"You should never question your commanding-officer about his strategy,"

he replied, with a smile; and I was about to apologise, but he went on,

"There's only one thing to do, my lad, keep them in sight, and I hope

that at any time the _Teaser_ may appear. When she does, she will in

all probability run by those junks without suspecting their nature, then

we come in and let them know the truth."

"But suppose the _Teaser_ does not come into sight?"

"Then our task is clear enough. We must hang on to the track of the

junks till we see where they go. Depend upon it, they have two or three

rendezvous."

"Think they have telescopes on board?" I said.

"It is extremely doubtful; and if we keep Ching always well in sight, I

don't suppose they will notice us. They will take us for a

fishing-boat, that's all."

By this time the sun was pouring down his beams with scorching violence,

and we were glad to give up the tiller to one of the men, and get into

the shelter of the cabin, just beyond which we found that Ching was busy

at work plucking one of the geese.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"Velly good to loast."

"But we've got no fire."

"Go 'shore, make fi', loast all, and come back on board."

"Yes, it will be a good addition to our stock of provisions, Herrick,"

said Mr Brooke, smiling. "Your friend Ching is going to turn out a

benefactor after all."

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