IN THE SLIME OF THE CHINESE RICE-FIELD
THE enemy fleet lay at anchor behind the Pearl Mountains. I could not
resist the temptation, and flew round them once again. Then I wended
my way farther and farther towards South China, an unknown land and an
uncertain fate. I passed over rugged mountains, over rivers and wide
plains, sometimes crossing the open sea, then again high above towns
and villages.
I guided myself by map and compass, and at 8 a.m. I had already put 250
kilometres behind me, and reached my destination—Hai-Dschou, in the
province of Kiangsu.
I peered into the plain below in search of a suitable landing-place;
but my prospects were not too promising.
The torrential rains of the past weeks had turned the ground into
a veritable swamp. The only dry spots were covered with houses or
Chinese burial-mounds. Finally I discovered a small field, 200 metres
long and 20 metres wide, which was bounded by deep ditches and high
walls on two sides, and by the river on the others.
Landing was confoundedly difficult, but there was no help for it, for
I could not stay up for ever. Besides, I was in China, not in Germany,
and could count myself lucky to have found this spot at all.
I descended in wide curves. And after a steep spiral, during which
the machine sagged heavily in consequence of the depression in the
atmosphere, I landed in the middle of the swampy rice-field at 8.45 a.m.
The clay was so soft and sticky that the aeroplane sank into the
mud and the wheels were held fast; my machine landed on her nose,
nearly turning turtle at the last moment. The propeller shivered into
fragments, but luckily I escaped without hurt.
The silence which reigned struck me as uncanny after the incessant
crash and turmoil of war of the last weeks. My little Taube rested
calmly and peacefully in the bright sunshine, with her little tail
up and her nose embedded in the mud. I could distinguish a crowd of
Chinese in the distance—men, women and swarms of children—pressing
forward in awed wonder. They, together with all the other Chinese over
whose land I had flown, could not account for my presence, for I was
the first aviator they had ever seen, and they were all convinced that
I was an Evil Spirit bent on their destruction. So when I clambered
out of my machine and tried to signal to them, there was no holding
them. They all fled, howling and screaming, the men first, leaving the
children who dropped behind as peace-offerings to the devil. I do not
think my appearance could have caused greater consternation in darkest
Africa.
With prompt decision I ran after them, hauling three or four of them by
their pigtails to the machine, so as to convince them that the big bird
was harmless.
This helped after a little, and when I presented them with some gold
pieces they averred that by a lucky chance they were in the presence of
a Good Spirit; therefore, they willingly helped to place the aeroplane
in a horizontal position once more. When the others saw this, they
gathered round in such crowds that I was surprised the machine was not
crushed.
How the Chinese marvelled! How they touched and examined everything!
How they laughed and chattered!
Only those who know the Chinese and their childlike disposition can
gauge the amusing situation in which I found myself.
I sat in my pilot’s seat, over the tin box containing the secret
papers, with a Mauser-pistol close to my hand, surrounded by a horde
of Nature’s children, whom it was impossible to get rid of, though I
repeatedly made the attempt. The creatures merely grinned joyously and
made fun of me.
I was at last freed from this predicament by a “Good morning, sir,”
boomed into my ear. A gentleman, who introduced himself as Dr. Morgan
of the American Mission, stood before me. We greeted each other warmly,
and I informed Dr. Morgan of what had happened, and asked him to use
his knowledge of the Chinese language, which he spoke fluently, to help
me. I soon saw that I was in good hands.
My huge Chinese passport, which I had brought with me from Kiao-Chow,
was immediately sent to the Mandarin; an hour later a detachment of
forty soldiers arrived from the barracks situated a short distance off,
to keep guard over my machine.
I gladly accepted Dr. Morgan’s invitation to breakfast, and, laden with
all the movable objects in my aeroplane, I set off with him to the
Mission.
I was welcomed most charmingly, and made the acquaintance of Mrs.
Morgan, also of Mrs. Rice, the wife of the American missionary, and of
a Mr. G., who all took the warmest interest in me.
I had just sat down to breakfast when a Chinese officer appeared,
with the announcement that a guard of honour, consisting of a company
of soldiers, had been placed before the house, and that he was under
orders from his Mandarin to ascertain my wishes, and how I was. The
Mandarin himself, however, would call on me in half an hour.
I was delighted at so much courtesy.
After another ten minutes new visitors arrived; this time the civic
authorities of Hai-Dschou, who desired to greet me in person.
The situation was unique. I sat in the midst of these venerable
old Chinese, having exchanged numerous bows and obeisances. The
conversation soon become animated, Dr. Morgan acting as interpreter.
There was no end to their questions: Whence did I come? How were things
in Kiao-Chow? Was it really true that I had come through the air? How
long had I taken for my flight? What magic had I used to be able to
fly? It was hardly possible to answer all their posers, and, though our
interpreter took infinite trouble, I am sure that the Sons of Heaven
were not much the wiser.
Soon there was a slight break.
While we sat talking, visitors were announced for the lady of the
house, and ten or twelve delightful little Chinese women, swathed in
wonderful silken garments and trousers, tripped past us. Two or three
of them lingered near the door of the room in which we men were seated,
and stared at us in awed fascination with big, round eyes and small,
half-opened mouths. Mrs. Morgan called to them from the adjoining
room, and they gave a frightened start and ran away. I only learnt the
reason for their strange conduct later. It seems that it is a social
_faux pas_ for a Chinese woman of gentle birth to offend a male visitor
by her curious glances.
The three sinners received a severe reprimand. I must admit I did
not care for this custom, for I should have liked a good look at the
elegant little ladies.
My hostess confided to me that she, too, had been pestered by questions
from her guests. Above all, they wished to know who this Evil Spirit
was which had threatened their town, yelling and growling. When they
were informed that it was a mere man who came from Kiao-Chow, they
laughed and declared that they were not fools enough to believe _that_!
Mrs. Morgan assured me laughingly that everything that might happen to
go wrong in the next two years, such as bad harvests, miscarriages,
mishaps of any description, would be put down to my account, and prove
of invaluable service to the Medicine-Men.
The Mandarin arrived about eleven, preceded by an uproar of tom-toms,
drums and whistles. He advanced with great dignity, an imposing
figure of rotund proportions, with a carefully shaven head, clad in
magnificent silken garments. Our salutations were extremely formal, and
the deep bows to the ground seemed endless.
The Mandarin inquired thoughtfully after my health and wishes, and
assured me of his aid and protection. He took leave with the same
ceremony.
As soon as I had returned this official visit, and had been invited to
sup with the Mandarin, I proceeded to dismantle my aeroplane.
But this was more easily said than done. I only possessed a spanner,
and had now to hunt for tools. Moreover, I was in China, and in a part
of the country where the last thousand years had brought no changes.
Wrenches or screw-drivers were unknown quantities.
At length I discovered an axe in the American Mission, and a miserable
object that looked like a saw.
I set to work with these implements, and, as I wished at least to
save my faithful 100-h.p. Mercédès motor from destruction, I sawed
and hacked it away from the body. Proof enough of the thoroughness of
German handiwork, for it took me fully four hours to detach it.
In order to conform to Neutral Laws, I handed over the motor to the
Mandarin for safe keeping.
Then came the saddest part. As the rest of my machine, even minus
planes, could pass through none of the streets or gates of the town,
I had to surrender it to the flames. I poured petrol over it, set it
alight, and saw it turn to ashes before my eyes.
And as I stood by, watching the holocaust of my poor, brave Taube, I
felt as if I were losing a dear and faithful friend.