All was quiet on the junks, not a man being visible as we sailed out of
the river and along the south shore of the estuary; and now, after a
long examination, Mr Brooke declared that there couldn't be a doubt as
to their being the ones we had seen up the branch river when we were in
the trap.
"The rig is too heavy for ordinary traders, Herrick," he said; and he
pointed out several peculiarities which I should not have noticed.
Ching had been watching us attentively, and Mr Brooke, who evidently
wanted to make up now for his harsh treatment of the interpreter, turned
to him quietly--
"Well, what do you say about it, Ching?"
The interpreter smiled.
"Ching quite su'e," he replied. "Seen velly many pilate come into liver
by fancee shop. Ching know d'leckly. Velly big mast, velly big sail,
go so velly fast catchee allee ship. You go waitee all dalk, burn all
up."
"What! set fire to them?"
"Yes; velly easy. All asleep, no keepee watch like Queen ship. No
light. Cleep velly close up top side, big wind blow; make lit' fire
both junk and come away. Allee 'light velly soon, and make big burn."
"What! and roast the wretches on board to death?"
"Some," said Ching, with a pleasant smile. "Makee squeak, and cly `Oh!
oh!' and burn all 'way like fi'wo'k. Look velly nice when it dalk."
"How horrid!" I cried.
"Not all bu'n up," said Ching; "lot jump ove'board and be dlown."
"Ching, you're a cruel wretch," I cried, as Mr Brooke looked at the man
in utter disgust.
"No; Ching velly glad see pilate bu'n up and dlown. Dleadful bad man,
bu'n ship junk, chop off head. Kill hundleds poo' good nicee people.
Pilate velly hollid man. Don't want pilate at all."
"No, we don't want them at all," said Mr Brooke, who seemed to be
studying the Chinaman's utter indifference to the destruction of human
life; "there's no room for them in the world, but that's not our way of
doing business. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, Ching understand, know. Ching can't talk velly quick Inglis, but
hear evelyting."
"That's right. Well, my good fellow, that wouldn't be English. We kill
men in fair fight, or take them prisoners. We couldn't go and burn the
wretches up like that."
Ching shook his head.
"All velly funnee," he said. "Shoot big gun and make big hole in junk;
knockee all man into bit; makee big junk sink and allee men dlown."
"Yes," said Mr Brooke, wrinkling up his forehead.
"Why not make lit' fire and bu'n junk, killee allee same?"
"He has me there, Herrick," said Mr Brooke.
"Takee plisoner to mandalin. Mandalin man put on heavy chain, kick flow
in boat, put in plison, no give to eat, and then choppee off allee head.
Makee hurt gleat deal mo'. Velly solly for plisoner. Bette' make big
fi' and bu'n allee now."
Mr Brooke smiled and looked at me, and I laughed.
"We'd better change the subject, Herrick," he said. "I'm afraid there
is not much difference in the cruelty of the act."
"No, sir," I said, giving one of my ears a rub. "But it is puzzling."
"Yes, my lad; and I suppose we should have no hesitation in shelling and
burning a pirates' nest."
"But we couldn't steal up and set fire to their junks in the dark, sir?"
"No, my lad, that wouldn't be ordinary warfare. Well, we had better run
into one of these little creeks, and land," he continued, as he turned
to inspect the low, swampy shore. "Plenty of hiding-places there, where
we can lie and watch the junks, and wait for the _Teaser_ to show."
"Velly good place," said Ching, pointing to where there was a patch of
low, scrubby woodland, on either side of which stretched out what seemed
to be rice fields, extending to the hills which backed the plain.
"Plenty wood makee fire--loast goose."