by trading across the sea. On one occasion he was carried far out of
his course by a violent tempest, and reached a country of high hills
and dense jungle,[326] where, after making fast his boat and taking
provisions with him, he landed, hoping to meet with some of the
inhabitants. He then saw that the rocks were covered with large holes,
like the cells of bees; and, hearing the sound of voices from within,
he stopped in front of one of them and peeped in. To his infinite
horror he beheld two hideous beings, with thick rows of horrid fangs,
and eyes that glared like lamps, engaged in tearing to pieces and
devouring some raw deer’s flesh; and, turning round, he would have
fled instantly from the spot, had not the cave-men already espied
him; and, leaving their food, they seized him and dragged him in.
Thereupon ensued a chattering between them, resembling the noise of
birds or beasts,[327] and they proceeded to pull off Hsü’s clothes as
if about to eat him; but Hsü, who was frightened almost to death,
offered them the food he had in his wallet, which they ate up with
great relish, and looked inside for more. Hsü waved his hand to shew
it was all finished, and then they angrily seized him again; at which
he cried out, “I have a saucepan in my boat, and can cook you some.”
The cave-men did not understand what he said; but, by dint of
gesticulating freely, they at length seemed to have an idea of what he
meant; and, having taken him down to the shore to fetch the saucepan,
they returned with him to the cave, where he lighted a fire and cooked
the remainder of the deer, with the flavour of which they appeared to
be mightily pleased. At night they rolled a big stone to the mouth of
the cave,[328] fearing lest he should try to escape; and Hsü himself
lay down at a distance from them in doubt as to whether his life would
be spared. At daybreak the cave-men went out, leaving the entrance
blocked, and by-and-by came back with a deer, which they gave to Hsü
to cook. Hsü flayed the carcase, and from a remote corner of the cave
took some water and prepared a large quantity, which was no sooner
ready than several other cave-men arrived to join in the feast. When
they had finished all there was, they made signs that Hsü’s saucepan
was too small; and three or four days afterwards they brought him a
large one of the same shape as those in common use amongst men,
subsequently furnishing him with constant supplies of wolf and
deer,[329] of which they always invited him to partake. By degrees
they began to treat him kindly, and not to shut him up when they went
out; and Hsü, too, gradually learnt to understand, and even to speak,
a little of their language, which pleased them so much that they
finally gave him a cave-woman for his wife. Hsü was horribly afraid of
her; but, as she treated him with great consideration, always
reserving tit-bits of food for him, they lived very happily together.
One day all the cave-people got up early in the morning, and, having
adorned themselves with strings of fine pearls, they went forth as if
to meet some honoured guest, giving orders to Hsü to cook an extra
quantity of meat that day. “It is the birthday of our King,” said
Hsü’s wife to him; and then, running out, she informed the other
cave-people that her husband had no pearls. So each gave five from
his own string, and Hsü’s wife added ten to these, making in all
fifty, which she threaded on a hempen fibre and hung around his neck,
each pearl being worth over an hundred ounces of silver. Then they
went away, and as soon as Hsü had finished his cooking, his wife
appeared and invited him to come and receive the King. So off they
went to a huge cavern, covering about a mow[330] of ground, in which
was a huge stone, smoothed away at the top like a table, with stone
seats at the four sides. At the upper end was a dais, over which was
spread a leopard’s skin, the other seats having only deer-skins; and
within the cavern some twenty or thirty cave-men ranged themselves on
the seats. After a short interval a great wind began to stir up the
dust, and they all rushed out to a creature very much resembling
themselves, which hurried into the cave, and, squatting down
cross-legged, cocked its head and looked about like a cormorant. The
other cave-men then filed in and took up their positions right and
left of the dais, where they stood gazing up at the King with their
arms folded before them in the form of a cross. The King counted them
one by one, and asked if they were all present; and when they replied
in the affirmative, he looked at Hsü and inquired who he was.
Thereupon Hsü’s wife stepped forward and said he was her husband, and
the others all loudly extolled his skill in cookery, two of them
running out and bringing back some cooked meat, which they set before
the King. His Majesty swallowed it by handfuls, and found it so nice
that he gave orders to be supplied regularly; and then, turning to
Hsü, he asked him why his string of beads[331] was so short. “He has
but recently arrived among us,” replied the cave-men, “and hasn’t got
a complete set;” upon which the King drew ten pearls from the string
round his own neck and bestowed them upon Hsü. Each was as big as the
top of one’s finger, and as round as a bullet; and Hsü’s wife threaded
them for him and hung them round his neck. Hsü himself crossed his
arms and thanked the King in the language of the country, after which
His Majesty went off in a gust of wind as rapidly as a bird can fly,
and the cave-men sat down and finished what was left of the banquet.
Four years afterwards Hsü’s wife gave birth to a triplet of two boys
and one girl, all of whom were ordinary human beings, and not at all
like the mother; at which the other cave-people were delighted, and
would often play with them and caress them.[332] Three years passed
away, and the children could walk about, after which their father
taught them to speak his own tongue; and in their early babblings
their human origin was manifested. The boys, as mere children, could
climb about on the mountains as easily as though walking upon a level
road; and between them and their father there grew up a mutual feeling
of attachment. One day the mother had gone out with the girl and one
of the boys, and was absent for a long time. A strong north wind was
blowing, and Hsü, filled with thoughts of his old home, led his other
son down with him to the beach, where lay the boat in which he had
formerly reached this country. He then proposed to the boy that they
should go away together; and, having explained to him that they could
not inform his mother, father and son stepped on board, and, after a
voyage of only twenty-four hours, arrived safely at Chiao-chou. On
reaching home Hsü found that his wife had married again; so he sold
two of his pearls for an enormous sum of money,[333] and set up a
splendid establishment. His son was called Piao, and at fourteen or
fifteen years of age the boy could lift a weight of three thousand
catties[334] (4,000 lbs.). He was extremely fond of athletics of all
kinds, and thus attracted the notice of the Commander-in-Chief, who
gave him a commission as sub-lieutenant. Just at that time there
happened to be some trouble on the frontier, and young Piao, having
covered himself with glory, was made a colonel at the age of eighteen.
About that time another merchant was driven by stress of weather to
the country of the cave-men, and had hardly stepped ashore before he
observed a young man whom he knew at once to be of Chinese origin. The
young man asked him whence he came, and finally took him into a cave
hid away in a dark valley and concealed by the dense jungle. There he
bade him remain, and in a little while he returned with some deer’s
flesh, which he gave the merchant to eat, saying at the same time that
his own father was a Chiao-chou man. The merchant now knew that the
young man was Hsü’s son, he himself being acquainted with Hsü as a
trader in the same line of business. “Why, he’s an old friend of
mine,” cried the latter; “his other son is now a colonel.” The young
man did not know what was meant by a _colonel_, so the merchant told
him it was the title of a Chinese mandarin. “And what is a
_mandarin_?” asked the youth. “A mandarin,” replied the merchant, “is
one who goes out with a chair and horses; who at home sits upon a dais
in the hall; whose summons is answered by a hundred voices; who is
looked at only with sidelong eyes, and in whose presence all people
stand aslant;--this is to be a mandarin.” The young man was deeply
touched at this recital, and at length the merchant said to him,
“Since your honoured father is at Chiao-chou, why do you remain here?”
“Indeed,” replied the youth, “I have often indulged the same feeling;
but my mother is not a Chinese woman, and, apart from the difference
of her language and appearance, I fear that if the other cave-people
found it out they would do us some mischief.” He then took his leave,
being in rather a disturbed state of mind, and bade the merchant wait
until the wind should prove favourable,[335] when he promised to come
and see him off, and charge him with a letter to his father and
brother. Six months the merchant remained in that cave, occasionally
taking a peep at the cave-people passing backwards and forwards, but
not daring to leave his retreat. As soon as the monsoon set in the
young man arrived and urged him to hurry away, begging him, also, not
to forget the letter to his father. So the merchant sailed away and
soon reached Chiao-chou, where he visited the colonel and told him the
whole story. Piao was much affected, and wished to go in search of
those members of the family; but his father feared the dangers he
would encounter, and advised him not to think of such a thing.
However, Piao was not to be deterred; and having imparted his scheme
to the commander-in-chief, he took with him two soldiers and set off.
Adverse winds prevailed at that time, and they beat about for half a
moon, until they were out of sight of all land, could not see a foot
before them, and had completely lost their reckoning. Just then a
mighty sea arose and capsized their boat, tossing Piao into the
water, where he floated about for some time at the will of the waves,
until suddenly somebody dragged him out and carried him into a house.
Then he saw that his rescuer was to all appearances a cave-man, and
accordingly he addressed him in the cave-people’s language, and told
him whither he himself was bound. “It is my native place,” replied the
cave-man, in astonishment; “but you will excuse my saying that you are
now 8,000 _li_ out of your course. This is the way to the country of
the Poisonous Dragons, and not your route at all.” He then went off to
find a boat for Piao, and, himself swimming in the water behind,
pushed it along like an arrow from a bow, so quickly that by the next
day they had traversed the whole distance. On the shore Piao observed
a young man walking up and down and evidently watching him; and,
knowing that no human beings dwelt there, he guessed at once that he
was his brother. Approaching more closely, he saw that he was right;
and, seizing the young man’s hand, he asked after his mother and
sister. On hearing that they were well, he would have gone directly to
see them; but the younger one begged him not to do so, and ran away
himself to fetch them. Meanwhile, Piao turned to thank the cave-man
who had brought him there, but he, too, had disappeared. In a few
minutes his mother and sister arrived, and, on seeing Piao, they could
not restrain their tears. Piao then laid his scheme before them, and
when they said they feared people would ill-treat them, he replied,
“In China I hold a high position, and people will not dare to shew
you disrespect.” Thus they determined to go. The wind, however, was
against them, and mother and son were at a loss what to do, when
suddenly the sail bellied out towards the south, and a rustling sound
was heard. “Heaven helps us, my mother!” cried Piao, full of joy; and,
hurrying on board at once, in three days they had reached their
destination. As they landed the people fled right and left in fear,
Piao having divided his own clothes amongst the party; and when they
arrived at the house, and his mother saw Hsü, she began to rate him
soundly for running away without her. Hsü hastened to acknowledge his
error, and then all the family and servants were introduced to her,
each one being in mortal dread of such a singular personage. Piao now
bade his mother learn to talk Chinese, and gave her any quantity of
fine clothes and rich meats, to the infinite delight of the old lady.
She and her daughter both dressed in man’s clothes, and by the end of
a few months were able to understand what was said to them. The
brother, named Pao [Leopard], and the sister, Yeh [Night], were both
clever enough, and immensely strong into the bargain. Piao was ashamed
that Pao could not read, and set to work to teach him; and the
youngster was so quick that he learnt the sacred books[336] and
histories by merely reading them once over. However, he would not
enter upon a literary career, loving better to draw a strong bow or
ride a spirited horse, and finally taking the highest military
degree. He married the daughter of a post-captain; but his sister had
some trouble in getting a husband, because of her being the child of a
cave-woman. At length a serjeant, named Yüan, who was under her
brother’s command, was forced to take her as his wife. She could draw
a hundred-catty bow, and shoot birds at a hundred paces without ever
missing. Whenever Yüan went to battle she went with him; and his
subsequent rise to high rank was chiefly due to her. At thirty-four
years of age Pao got a command; and in his great battles his mother,
clad in armour and grasping a spear, would fight by his side, to the
terror of all their adversaries; and when he himself received the
dignity of an hereditary title, he memorialized the Throne to grant
his mother the title of “lady.”
FOOTNOTES:
[324] The Chinese term--here translated “Cannibals”--is a meaningless
imitation by two Chinese characters of the Sanscrit _yakcha_, or
certain demons who feed upon human flesh.
[325] Hué, the capital of Cochin-China.
[326] The island of Hainan, inhabited as it was in earlier times by a
race of savages, is the most likely source of the following marvellous
adventures.
[327] To which sounds the languages of the west have been more than
once likened by the Chinese. It is only fair, however, to the lettered
classes to state that they have a similar contempt for their own local
dialects; regarding _Mandarin_ as the only form of speech worthy to be
employed by men.
[328] The occasional analogies to the story of the Cyclops must be
evident to all readers.
[329] The animal here mentioned is the plain brown deer, or _Rusa
Swinhoii_, of Formosa, in which island I should prefer to believe, but
for the great distance from Hué, that the scenes here narrated took
place.
[330] About one sixth of an acre. On old title-deeds of landed
property in China may still be seen measurements calculated according
to the amount of grain that could be sown thereon.
[331] The king here uses the words “ku-t‘u-tzŭ,” which are probably
intended by the author to be an imitation of a term in the savage
tongue.
[332] Fondness for children is specially a trait of Chinese character;
and a single baby would do far more to ensure the safety of a foreign
traveller in China than all the usual paraphernalia of pocket-pistols
and revolvers.
[333] Literally, “a million of taels,” the word used being the
Buddhist term _chao_.
[334] Here again we have 100 _chün_, one _chün_ being equal to about
40 _lbs._ Chinese weights, measures, distances, numbers, &c., are
often very loosely employed; and it is probable that not more than 100
_catties_, say 133 _lbs._, is here meant.
[335] That is, until the change of the monsoon from S.W. to N.E.
[336] See No. XLI., note 237.
LVIII.
FOOT-BALL ON THE TUNG-T‘ING LAKE.
Wang Shih-hsiu was a native of Lu-chou, and such a lusty fellow that
he could pick up a stone mortar.[337] Father and son were both good
foot-ball players; but when the former was about forty years of age he
was drowned while crossing the Money Pool.[338] Some eight or nine
years later our hero happened to be on his way to Hunan; and anchoring
in the Tung-t‘ing lake, watched the moon rising in the east and
illuminating the water into a bright sheet of light. While he was thus
engaged, lo! from out of the lake emerged five men, bringing with them
a large mat which they spread on the surface of the water so as to
cover about six yards square. Wine and food were then arranged upon
it, and Wang heard the sound of the dishes knocking together, but it
was a dull, soft sound, not at all like that of ordinary crockery.
Three of the men sat down on the mat and the other two waited upon
them. One of the former was dressed in yellow, the other two in white,
and each wore a black turban. Their demeanour as they sat there side
by side was grave and dignified; in appearance they resembled three of
the ancients, but by the fitful beams of the moon Wang was unable to
see very clearly what they were like. The attendants wore black serge
dresses, and one of them seemed to be a boy, while the other was many
years older. Wang now heard the man in the yellow dress say, “This is
truly a fine moonlight night for a drinking-bout;” to which one of his
companions replied, “It quite reminds me of the night when Prince
Kuang-li feasted at Pear-blossom Island.”[339] The three then pledged
each other in bumping goblets, talking all the time in such a low tone
that Wang could not hear what they were saying. The boatmen kept
themselves concealed, crouching down at the bottom of the boat; but
Wang looked hard at the attendants, the elder of whom bore a striking
resemblance to his father, though he spoke in quite a different tone
of voice. When it was drawing towards midnight, one of them proposed a
game at ball; and in a moment the boy disappeared in the water, to
return immediately with a huge ball--quite an armful in
fact--apparently full of quicksilver, and lustrous within and without.
All now rose up, and the man in the yellow dress bade the old
attendant join them in the game. The ball was kicked up some ten or
fifteen feet in the air, and was quite dazzling in its brilliancy; but
once, when it had gone up with a whish-h-h-h, it fell at some distance
off, right in the very middle of Wang’s boat. The occasion was
irresistible, and Wang, exerting all his strength, kicked the ball
with all his might. It seemed unusually light and soft to the touch,
and his foot broke right through. Away went the ball to a good height,
pouring forth a stream of light like a rainbow from the hole Wang had
made, and making as it fell a curve like that of a comet rushing
across the sky. Down it glided into the water, where it fizzed a
moment and then went out. “Ho, there!” cried out the players in anger,
“what living creature is that who dares thus to interrupt our sport?”
“Well kicked--indeed!” said the old man, “that’s a favourite drop-kick
of my own.” At this, one of the two in white clothes began to abuse
him saying, “What! you old baggage, when we are all so annoyed in this
manner, are you to come forward and make a joke of it? Go at once with
the boy and bring back to us this practical joker, or your own back
will have a taste of the stick.” Wang was of course unable to flee;
however, he was not a bit afraid, and grasping a sword stood there in
the middle of the boat. In a moment, the old man and boy arrived, also
armed, and then Wang knew that the former was really his father, and
called out to him at once, “Father, I am your son.” The old man was
greatly alarmed, but father and son forgot their troubles in the joy
of meeting once again. Meanwhile, the boy went back, and Wang’s
father bade him hide, or they would all be lost. The words were hardly
out of his mouth when the three men jumped on board the boat. Their
faces were black as pitch, their eyes as big as pomegranates, and they
at once proceeded to seize the old man. Wang struggled hard with them,
and managing to get the boat free from her moorings, he seized his
sword and cut off one of his adversaries’ arms. The arm dropped down
and the man in the yellow dress ran away; whereupon one of those in
white rushed at Wang who immediately cut off his head, and he fell
into the water with a splash, at which the third disappeared. Wang and
his father were now anxious to get away, when suddenly a great mouth
arose from the lake, as big and as deep as a well, and against which
they could hear the noise of the water when it struck. This mouth blew
forth a violent gust of wind, and in a moment the waves were mountains
high and all the boats on the lake were tossing about. The boatmen
were terrified, but Wang seized one of two huge stones there were on
board for use as anchors,[340] about 130 lbs. in weight, and threw it
into the water, which immediately began to subside; and then he threw
in the other one, upon which the wind dropped, and the lake became
calm again. Wang thought his father was a disembodied spirit, but the
old man said, “I never died. There were nineteen of us drowned in the
river, all of whom were eaten by the fish-goblins except myself: I was
saved because I could play foot-ball. Those you saw got into trouble
with the Dragon King, and were sent here. They were all marine
creatures, and the ball they were playing with was a fish-bladder.”
Father and son were overjoyed at meeting again, and at once proceeded
on their way. In the morning they found in the boat a huge fin--the
arm that Wang had cut off the night before.
FOOTNOTES:
[337] Used for pounding rice.
[338] A fancy name for the Tung-t‘ing lake. See No. XXXVIII., note
226.
[339] The commentator declares himself unable to trace this allusion.
[340] These are bound in between several sharp-pointed stakes and
serve their purpose very well in the inland waters of China.
LIX.
THE THUNDER GOD.
Lê Yün-hao and Hsia P‘ing-tzŭ lived as boys in the same village, and
when they grew up read with the same tutor, becoming the firmest of
friends. Hsia was a clever fellow, and had acquired some reputation
even at the early age of ten. Lê was not a bit envious, but rather
looked up to him, and Hsia in return helped his friend very much with
his studies, so that he, too, made considerable progress. This
increased Hsia’s fame, though try as he would he could never succeed
at the public examinations, and by-and-by he sickened and died. His
family was so poor they could not find money for his burial, whereupon
Lê came forward and paid all expenses, besides taking care of his
widow and children.
Every peck or bushel he would share with them, the widow trusting
entirely to his support; and thus he acquired a good name in the
village, though not being a rich man himself he soon ran through all
his own property. “Alas!” cried he, “where talents like Hsia’s failed,
can I expect to succeed? Wealth and rank are matters of destiny, and
my present career will only end by my dying like a dog in a ditch. I
must try something else.” So he gave up book-learning and went into
trade, and in six months he had a trifle of money in hand.