“Well,” said Ralph, “how about the eats?”
“I move that we have some,” answered Tom.
“Second the motion,” chimed in Dick.
“Carried unanimously,” added Bert, “but where?”
“Perhaps we would better get back to the English quarter,” suggested Ralph. “There are some restaurants there as good as you can find in New York or London.”
“Not for mine,” said Tom. “We can do that at any time, but it isn’t often we’ll have a chance to eat in a regular Chinese restaurant. Let’s take our courage in our hands and go into the next one here we come to. It’s all in a lifetime. Come along.”
“Tom’s right,” said Dick. “Let’s shut our eyes and wade in. It won’t kill us, and we’ll have one more experience to look back upon. So ‘lead on, MacDuff.’”
Accordingly they all piled into the next queer little eating-house they came to, but not before they had agreed among themselves that they would take the whole course from “soup to nuts,” no matter what their stomachs or their noses warned them against. A suave, smiling Chinaman seated them with many profound bows at a quaint table, on which were the most delicate of plates and the most tiny and fragile of cups. They had of course to depend on signs, but theymade him understand that they wanted a full course dinner, and that they left the choice of the food to him. They had no cause to regret this, for, despite their misgivings, the dinner was surprisingly good. The shark-fin soup was declared by Ralph to be equal to terrapin. They fought a little shy of indulging heartily in the meat, especially after Bert had mischievously given a tiny squeak that made Tom turn a trifle pale; but in the main they stuck manfully to their pledge, and, to show that they were no “pikers” but “game sports,” tasted at least something of each ingredient set before them. And when they came to the dessert, they gave full rein to their appetites, for it was delicious. Candied fruits and raisins and nuts were topped off with little cups of the finest tea that the boys had ever tasted. They paid their bill and left the place with a much greater respect for Chinese cookery than they had ever expected to entertain.
The afternoon slipped away as if by magic in these new and fascinating surroundings. They wove in and out among the countless shops, picking up souvenirs here and there, until their pockets were much heavier and their purses correspondingly lighter. Articles were secured for a song that would have cost them ten times as much in any American city, if indeed they could be bought at all. The ivory carvers, workers injade, silk dealers, painters of rice-paper pictures, porcelain and silver sellers—all these were manycashricher by the time the boys, tired but delighted, turned back to the shore and were conveyed to theFearless.
“Well,” smiled the doctor, as they came up the side, “how did you enjoy your first day ashore in China?”
“Simply great,” responded Bert, enthusiastically, while the others concurred. “I never had so many new sensations crowding upon me at one time in all my whole life before. As a matter of fact I’m bewildered by it yet. I suppose it will be some days before I can digest it and have a clear recollection of all we’ve seen and done to-day.”
“Yes,” said the doctor, “but, even yet, you haven’t seen the real China. Hong-Kong is so largely English that even the native quarter is more or less influenced by it. Now, Canton is Chinese through and through. Although of course there are foreign residents there, they form so small a part of the population that they are practically nil. It’s only about seventy miles away, and I’m going down there to-morrow on a little business of my own. How would you fellows like to come along? Provided, of course, that the captain agrees.”
Needless to say the boys agreed with a shout,and the consent of the captain was readily obtained.
“How shall we go?” asked Ralph.
“What’s the matter with taking the ‘Gray Ghost’ along?” put in Tom.
The doctor shook his head.
“No,” said he. “That would be all right if the roads were good. Of course they’re fine here in the city and for a few miles out. But beyond that they’re simply horrible. If it should be rainy you’d be mired to the hubs, and even if the weather keeps dry, the roads in places are mere footpaths. They weren’t constructed with a view to automobile riding.”
So they took an English river steamer the next day, and before night reached the teeming city, full of color and picturesque to a degree not attained by any other coast city of the Empire. Their time was limited and there was so much to see that they scarcely knew where to begin. But here again the vast experience of the doctor stood them in good stead. Under his expert guidance next day they visited the Tartar City, the Gate of Virtue, the Flowery Pagoda, the Clepsydra or Water Clock, the Viceroy’s Yamen, the City of the Dead, and the Temple of the Five Hundred Genii. The latter was a kind of Chinese “Hall of Fame,” with images of the most famous statesmen, soldiers, scholars, and philosophers that thecountry had produced. Before their shrines fires were kept constantly burning, and the place was heavy with the pungent odor of joss sticks and incense.
They wound up with a visit to the execution ground and the prisons, a vivid reminder of the barbarism that foreign influence has as yet not been able to modify to any great degree. The boys were horrified at the devilish ingenuity displayed by the Chinese in their system of punishment.
Here was a poor fellow condemned to the torture of the cangue. This was a species of treebox built about him with an opening at the neck through which his head protruded. He stood upon a number of thin slabs of wood. Every day one of these was removed so that his weight rested more heavily on the collar surrounding his neck, until finally his toes failed to touch the wood at the bottom and he hung by the neck until he slowly strangled to death.
“Yes,” said the doctor, as the boys turned away sickened by the sight, “there is no nation so cruel and unfeeling as the Chinese. Scarcely one of these that pass by indifferently, would save this poor fellow if they could. They look unmoved on scenes that would freeze the blood in our veins.”
“This is bad enough,” he went on, “but it isnothing to some of the fiendish atrocities that they indulge in. Their executioners could give points on torture to a Sioux Indian.
“They have for instance what they call the ‘death of the thousand slices.’ They are such expert anatomists that they can carve a man continuously for hours without touching a vital spot. They hang the victim on a kind of cross and cut slices from every part of his body before death comes to his relief.
“Then, too, they have what they name the ‘vest of death.’ They strip a man to the waist and put on him a coat of mail with numberless fine openings. They pull this tightly about him until the flesh protrudes through the open places, and then deftly pass a razor all over it, making a thousand tiny wounds. Then they take off the vest and release the victim. The many wounds coalesce in one until he is practically flayed and dies in horrible torment.”
The boys shuddered at these instances of “man’s inhumanity to man.”
“Life must be horribly cheap in China,” observed Tom.
“I wonder if such terrible punishment really has any effect as an example to criminals,” said Ralph.
“I don’t believe it does,” put in Bert. “We know that formerly in Europe there were hundredsof crimes that were punishable with death. In England, at one time, a young boy or girl would be hung for stealing a few shillings. And yet crime grew more common as punishment grew more severe. When they became more humane in dealing with offenders, the number of crimes fell off in proportion.”
“Yes,” assented the doctor. “The modern idea is right that punishment should be reformatory instead of vindictive. But it will be a good while before China sees things from that standpoint.”
“It is possible of course that the culprit here does not suffer so cruelly as a white man would under similar conditions. The nervous system of a Chinaman is very coarse and undeveloped. He bears with stolidity torture that would wring shrieks of agony from one more highly strung.”
“Perhaps so,” said Bert, “but I don’t know. We say that sometimes about fish. They’re coldblooded, and so it doesn’t hurt them to be caught. I’ve often thought, though, that it would be interesting if we could hear from the fish on that point.”
“No doubt,” returned the doctor. “It’s always easy to be philosophical when somebody else is concerned. But we’ll have to go now,” looking at his watch, “if we expect to get to the boat in time.”
“Well, fellows,” said Bert that night as, safe on board of theFearless, they prepared to tumble in, “it certainly is interesting to go about this land of the ‘Yellow Dragon,’ but it’s a cruel old beast. I’d hate to feel its teeth and claws.”
Was it a touch of prophecy?
“Not very pretty to look at, is he?” asked Ralph, indicating by a nod the huge Chinaman who had slipped noiselessly past them on his way to the galley.
“He isn’t exactly a beauty,” assented Tom, looking after the retreating figure, “but then what Chinaman is? Besides he didn’t sign as an Adonis, but as an assistant cook. What do you expect to get for your twelve dollars a month and found?”
“Well, I’d hate to meet him up an alley on a dark night, especially if he had a knife,” persisted Ralph. “If ever villainy looked out from a fellow’s face it does from his.”
“Don’t wake him up, he is dreaming,” laughed Bert.
“I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,The reason why I cannot tell;But this one thing I know full well,I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,”
“I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,The reason why I cannot tell;But this one thing I know full well,I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,”
quoted Dick.
“Come out of your trance, Ralph, and look at these two junks just coming out from that point of land over there,” rallied Tom. “Those fellows handle them smartly, don’t they?”
It was a glorious evening off the China coast. TheFearlesshad hoisted anchor and turned her prow toward home. Every revolution of the screws was bringing them nearer to the land of the Stars and Stripes. The sea was like quicksilver, there was a following wind, the powerful engines were moving like clockwork, and everything indicated a fast and prosperous voyage.
The boys were gathered at the rail, and, as Tom spoke, they gazed with interest at the two long narrow junks that were drawing swiftly toward them. All sails were set and they slipped with surprising celerity through the water.
“They both seem to be going in the same direction,” said Ralph. “It almost looks as though they were racing. I’ll bet on the—What was that?”
The ship shook from stem to stern as though her machinery had been suddenly thrown out of place.
The captain rushed down from the bridge and the mates came running forward. The boys had leaped to their feet and looked at each other in dismay. Then, with one accord, they plunged down in the direction of the engine-room. Beforethey reached it they could hear the hoarse shouts of MacGregor and his assistants as they shut off the steam, and the ship losing headway tossed helplessly up and down.
“What is it Mr. MacGregor?” asked the captain.
“I canna’ tell yet,” answered Mac. “Something must have dropped into the machinery. And yet I’ll swear there was nothing lying around loose. But I’ll find out.”
A minute or two passed and then with a snarl and an oath, he held up a heavy wrench.
“Here’s the thing that did it,” he yelled, “and it didn’t get there by accident either. I ken every tool aboard this ship and I never set eyes on this before. Somebody threw it there to wreck the engines.”
“To wreck the engines,” repeated Captain Manning. “Why? Who’d want to do anything like that?”
“I dinna’ ken,” said Mac stubbornly. “I only know some one must ha’. I’d like to get these twa hands of mine on his throat.”
“Has any one been here except you and your men?” asked the captain.
“No one—leastwise nane but the Chink. He stopped to say——”
Bert jumped as though he had been shot. The Chinaman of the villainous face—those junksputting out from land! Like a flash he was up the ladder and out on the deserted deck. His heart stood still as he looked astern.
The two junks were seething with activity and excitement. The decks were packed with men. All pretense of secrecy was abandoned. The stopping of the ship had evidently been the signal they were expecting. All sails were bent to catch every breath of air, and long sweeps darted suddenly from the sides. The prows threw up fountains of water on each side as the junks made for the crippled ship like wolves leaping on the flanks of a wounded deer.
Bert took this in at a single glance. He saw it all—the Chinese accomplice, the carefully prepared plan, the wrecking of the machinery. His voice rang out like a trumpet:
“Pirates! Pirates! All hands on deck!”
Then, while the officers and crew came tumbling up from below, he rushed to the wireless room and pressed the spark key. The blue flames sputtered, as up and down the China coast and far out to sea his message flashed:
“Attacked by pirates. Help. Quick.”
Then followed the latitude and longitude. He could not wait for a reply. Three times at intervals of a few seconds he sent the call, and then he sprang from his seat.
“Here, Howland,” he shouted, as his assistantappeared at the door. “Keep sending right along. It’s a matter of life and death. Let me know if an answer comes.”
Then he grabbed his .45 and rushed on deck. A fight was coming—a fight against fearful odds. And his blood grew hot with the lust of battle.
Short sharp words of command ran over the ship. The officers and crew were at their places. The women passengers had been sent below and an incipient panic had been quelled at the start. The officers had their revolvers loaded and ready and the crew were armed with capstan bars and marlinspikes beside the sheath knives that they all carried. There was no cannon, except a small signal gun on board the ship, and this the pirates knew. The battle must be hand to hand. The odds were heavy. The decks of the enemy swarmed with yelling devils naked to the waist and armed to the teeth. They were at least five to one and had the advantage of the attack and the surprise.
The boys were grouped together at the stern toward which the junks were pulling. All had revolvers, and heavy bars lay near by to be grabbed when they should come to hand-grips with the pirates. They looked into each others eyes and each rejoiced at what he saw there. Together they had faced death before and won out; to-day, they were facing it again, and the chanceswere against their winning. Yet they never quailed or flinched. The spirit of ’76 was there—the spirit of 1812—the spirit of ’61. They came of a fighting stock; a race that could face and whip the world or die in the trying. They glanced at Old Glory floating serenely above their heads, and each swore to himself that if he died defeated he would not die disgraced. Their fingers tightened on the butts of their weapons, their teeth clinched and their eyes grew hard.
The captain, cool and stern, as he always was in a crisis, had divided his forces into two equal parts. He himself commanded on the port side, while Mr. Collins took charge of the starboard. A long line of hose had been connected with the boiling water of the engine room, and two sailors held the nozzle as it writhed and twisted on the rail. Had there been but one junk, this might have proved decisive, but, in the nature of things, it could only defend one side of the ship. The pirates were proceeding on the plan of “divide and conquer.” As they drew rapidly nearer, they separated, and while one dashed at the port side of the ship, the other swept around under the starboard quarter. Then a horde of half-naked yellow fiends with knives held between their teeth swarmed up the sides, grabbed at the rails and sought to obtain a foothold. A volley of bullets swept the first of them away, but theirplaces were instantly taken by others. The boiling water rushed in a torrent over the port side, and the scalded scoundrels fell back. But it was only for a moment and still they kept coming with unabated fury.
Bert and his comrades fought shoulder to shoulder. Their revolvers barked again and again and the snarling yellow faces were so near that they could not miss. Many fell back dead and wounded, but they never quit; and when the revolvers were emptied, a number of the pirates got over the rail, while the boys were reloading. Then followed a savage hand-to-hand fight. Iron bars came down with sickening crashes; knives flashed and fell and rose and fell again. The pirates were gaining a foothold and the little band of defenders was hard pressed. But just then reinforcements came in the form of MacGregor and his husky stokers and engineers. They had been trying desperately to repair the engines, but the sounds of the fight above had been too much for them to stand, and now they came headlong into the fight, their brawny arms swinging iron bars like flails. They turned the tide at that critical moment and the pirates were driven back over the sides. They dropped sullenly into the junks and drew away from the ship until they were out of range of bullets. Then they stopped and took breath before renewingthe attack. They had suffered terribly, but they still vastly outnumbered the defenders.
The boys reloaded their revolvers, watching the enemy narrowly.
“I wonder if they have enough,” said Dick as he bound a handkerchief around a slight flesh wound in his left arm.
“I don’t think so,” answered Bert, “their blood is up and they know how few we are as compared with themselves. They certainly fought like wildcats.”
“They’re live wires sure enough,” agreed Tom. “They—why Bert, what’s the matter?” he exclaimed as Bert sprang to his feet excitedly.
But Bert had rushed to the captain and was eagerly laying before him the plan that Tom’s words had unwittingly suggested.
The captain listened intently and an immense relief spread over his features. He issued his orders promptly. Great coils of heavy wire were brought from the storeroom and under Bert’s supervision were wound in parallel rows about the stern of the ship. At first sight it looked as though they were inviting the pirates to grasp them and thus easily reach the deck. It seemed like committing suicide. The work was carried on with feverish energy and by the time the pirates swung their boats around and again headed for the ship, there was a treble row ofwires about a foot apart on both the port and starboard side.
The revolvers had all been reloaded and every man stood ready. But the tenseness of a few minutes before was lacking. For the first time since the fight began Captain Manning smiled contentedly.
“Don’t fire, men, unless I give the word. Stand well back from the rail and wait for orders.”
On came the pirates yelling exultantly. The silence of the defenders was so strange and unnatural that it might well have daunted a more imaginative or less determined foe. Not a shot was fired, not a man stirred. They might have been dream men on a dream ship for any sign of life and movement. The crowded junks bore down on either side of the ship, and as though with a single movement, a score of pirates leaped at the rails and grasped the wires to pull themselves aboard.
Then a wonderful thing happened. From below came the buzz of the great dynamo and through the wires surged the tremendous power of the electric current. It was appalling, overwhelming, irresistible. It killed as lightning kills. There was not even time for a cry. They hung there for one awful moment with limbs twisted and contorted, while an odor of burning fleshfilled the air. Then they dropped into the sea. Their comrades petrified with horror saw them fall and then with frantic shrieks bent to the sweeps and fled for their lives.
And so it befell that when the good shipFearlessdrew up to the dock at San Francisco, the young wireless operator, much to his surprise as well as distaste, found that his quick wit and unfailing courage had made of him a popular hero. But he steadfastly disclaimed having done anything unusual. If he had fought a good fight and “kept the faith,” it was, after all, only his duty.
“Well, yes, but admitting all that,” said Dick, “it’s so unusual for a fellow to do even that, that when it does happen the world insists on crowning it. You know.
“‘The path of duty is the road to glory.’”
Neither knew at the moment how much of prophecy there was in that quotation. For Glory beckoned, though unseen, and Bert in the near future was destined to win fresh laurels. How gallantly he fought for them, how splendidly he won them and how gracefully he wore them will be told in
“Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner.”
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes:Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.