YES, IT WAS THE RED MIRIOK!YES, IT WAS THE RED MIRIOK!
"Oh," said Helen, "if Mr. Kit-ze could only know!" Even as she spoke, Mr. Kit-ze was seen coming rapidly toward the river.
FOOTNOTES:[1]A box in which are carried three or more coins with characters stamped upon them. The coins are cast upward three times, falling again into the box. The combination of characters each time gives themutangher clue to the divination or prediction.
[1]A box in which are carried three or more coins with characters stamped upon them. The coins are cast upward three times, falling again into the box. The combination of characters each time gives themutangher clue to the divination or prediction.
[1]A box in which are carried three or more coins with characters stamped upon them. The coins are cast upward three times, falling again into the box. The combination of characters each time gives themutangher clue to the divination or prediction.
M
r. Kit-ze had left the pony in town and now came on at a rapid dog-trot. He was covered with dust and perspiration, and his hair, which had been shaken from its knot, was now partly hanging in much disorder down his back. When he had first rushed away, it had been with the thought that themiriokhad been left at home, that it had in all probability dropped from his clothing as he slept. But as a rigid search failed to reveal it, he at length came to the conclusion that he had dropped it in or near the river while helping to load the sampan. He had stooped over many times, he knew. Why hadn't he thought of that ere coming away? Yes, the first search ought, by all means, to have been made in and around the sampan. But then he had been so excited over his loss he hadn't taken the time to reason about it at all. Now he would hasten back to the boat and resume there the search for themiriok. Oh, he must find it, or failing, secure another like it. He could not think of going on the journey without hismiriok, for would not disaster be sure to befall him if he did? But where was such another as thismiriokto be had? As he recalled with what difficulty this one had been secured, Mr. Kit-ze grew more and more excited over his loss. Oh, he must return to the river at once! as there was a chance that he had dropped themiriokthere.
Thus Mr. Kit-ze, coming in sight of the sampan, saw Clarence standing in the water and holding something at arm's length over which all were exclaiming. It took only a steady glance to show him what it was. The next moment, with a ringing cry, he endeavored to increase his pace, lost his footing, and went rolling down the slope, stopping just at the water's edge. It was Helen who reached him as he regained his feet. She had taken themiriokfrom Clarence, and was holding it toward Mr. Kit-ze, saying in her softest, gentlest tones:
"Here, Mr. Kit-ze, is something of yours that Clarence has found in the river. We were so sorry when we knew you had lost it, and are glad now that it can be returned to you."
With a little cry of delight he took themiriokfrom her, clasped it against his breast, prostrating himself before her almost to the ground. This he did the second and even the third time.
The sudden coming of Mr. Kit-ze, his mishap, and the scene that followed between him and Helen on the river bank had formed considerable of a diversion for a part of the crowd. Even the excitement of Mr. Chefoo's still unsatisfactory interviews with the polemen had, for a time, paled before this newer and greater one. Ere she could extricate herself Helen was surrounded by quite a rabble. Many faces were pressing up about her, but there was one that attracted her attention in such a way that it startled her. It was a somewhat worn and haggard face, with restless, piercing eyes, and a nervous twitching of the lips that impressed itself upon Helen the moment she saw it. She noticed that its owner's gaze soon left her face and fixed itself in the direction of Mr. Kit-ze. The eyes had now a startled look. They were fastened upon themiriokthat Mr. Kit-ze was still holding against his breast, but in such a way that it showed plainly. Helen noted this riveted gaze, as she also saw his lips moving. By this time her position had become very unpleasant. She felt too, a little chill of fear as she looked at this man. Was his mind upset? However, Mr. Kit-ze, having recovered his senses along with hismiriok, was equal to the emergency. He safely conducted her out of the surging crowd and to the sampan.
Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn, with Mr. Chefoo, being informed of the return of Mr. Kit-ze, joined them as rapidly as they could in view of the crowd that bore them company at the sampan. Considerable satisfaction was expressed at the finding of themiriok, though the two missionaries some hours later expressed themselves quite vigorously to each other on the subject.
Mr. Kit-ze, who had by this time profusely apologized for his sudden departure, was as anxious as the others to be off. There was no need to delay another moment, he assured them. He motioned to Mr. Chefoo to take his place in the stern, while he, grasping his long pole, took a similar position in the bow.
"Hurrah!" cried Joyce, "we are off at last."
He stood up in his delight, clapping his hands and, as the boat was given a sudden turn at that moment, he assuredly would have tumbled over the side into the river had not Mallard caught him.
"Better keep your eye on the polemen hereafter," Clarence advised him, "ere you try any acrobatic performances on a sampan."
They found some difficulty in getting away from the crowd, many of whom followed the sampan for some distance into the water. These Mallard finally turned back by the happy thought carried into execution of tossing a handful of "cash" toward the shore. The last they saw of the village was the scrambling forms in the water, and the line of low hovels, built of mud-smeared wattle, with no vestige of windows and with their black smokeholes plainly defined.
Yes, they were off at last, really afloat on the glorious Han,theriver of Korea, which, in two branches, sweeps almost across the peninsula, forming two great waterways, navigable for flat-bottomed craft for more than two hundred miles.
They found the river teeming with moving life. In addition to the flatboats there were many junks passing back and forth, for the Han is the great artery of commerce for the eastern provinces. Those going into the city were laden with produce, pottery, bundles of faggots for firewood, and the like, while those coming out held cargoes of merchandise, both home and foreign, and salt from the seacoast.
Some of these junks were very old. They carried prodigious sails, despite their rotten timbers, and looked as though they might turn over at any moment. The most of them creaked horribly, and when our friends in the sampan heard one for the first time, they thought for a moment it was some great beast in terrible pain. When they found out their mistake a hearty laugh went around.
Though the sun was now quite high, and its rays very warm, yet Mr. Kit-ze knew the stream so well that he could keep near to the bank. Thus for much of the way they had the shade from the trees and from the overhanging bluffs. They found their curtains too, much protection. Their little sitting room was very cozy and comfortable. Helen had brought some oilcloth matting for the floor of the sampan, and a little oil stove that they could light when the air was damp and disagreeable. Here too were cushions, one or two folding chairs, and the bedding which the girls were to use at night, together with the oilskin cases in which they kept their clothing, a small supply of books, writing materials, etc. In the next compartment forward Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn had stored their effects, as they were to occupy it jointly at night. Here all would dine when they were afloat; here too, the service of morning and evening prayer would be held. The three boys slept and kept their effects in the compartment just behind that of the girls. The straw roof along the ridgepole extended over all, even for a part of the way over the small, boxlike quarters of the two boatmen. In addition our party was provided with oilcloths for the better protection of the stores, and with mosquito netting.
"This is fine, even finer than sailing on the Hudson at home!" declared Dorothy, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Or the noble Mississippi, down in our Southland," added Helen. "How pleasant this is! Oh, I had no idea it could be so delightful!"
"You just wait, my sister, until you strike some of the rapids," admonished Clarence, his face taking on a very solemn expression, "and begin to roll about like loose apples in a cart, or find your feet hanging where your head ought to be. Then I'm no prophet if you don't completely change your form of expression."
"Oh, for shame!" cried both girls in a breath.
"I think it is real mean of you," declared Helen, "to try to spoil our enjoyment of the present by introducing into it the suggestion of those terrible things that await us. As for myself, I believe in enjoying what is sweet and good while we have it, without borrowing trouble with reference to what is in the future."
"A philosophy in which I heartily agree," said Dorothy.
There was indeed much to make the trip delightful, for the beauties of the spring were all around them, in the sky, in the water, in the green knolls overhanging the river. The stream continued to be quite shallow. At some places it gurgled over the rocks only a foot or so below the sampan. They came now and then to where the cattle waded knee deep in the lush grasses. These turned to view them in mild-eyed astonishment as they passed by chatting and laughing, then went on with their grazing. Flocks of mandarin ducks and wild geese flew by; some of the latter even swam close to the sampan. There were too, numbers of the imperial crane, and once in a while a pink ibis wading along the edge of a rice field.
Clarence took his gun to shoot one of these, but Helen and Dorothy began to beg for its life. "We don't want to eat it, so why destroy it?" asked Helen.
"Oh, wouldn't you girls like a wing each for your hats?" asked Clarence a little mischievously.
"Oh, no indeed," declared Dorothy. "No bird wing for me! You know that well enough, Master Clarence," and she looked at him reprovingly.
"Well, the truth is," confessed Clarence, "I want it for my cabinet. I know a young Japanese in Seoul who has promised to show me how to stuff all I bring back. In the meantime he has taught me how to preserve them while on the trip."
"If you must do it then in—in the cause of science," and here Helen looked at him quizzingly, "wait until we can't see you commit the murder, won't you?"
"All right," assented Clarence cheerfully. "But see here, sister," with earnest protest, "don't call it murder."
"Well, the cruelty of sport then," corrected Helen.
At that moment a shout from Joyce attracted their attention. "Oh, look at the pheasants!" he cried. "Quick! Clarence, I know you can shoot one or more of them if you try."
Sure enough, there were the pheasants right along the edge of the rice field, fine, fat fellows, and many of them.
"Be careful," warned Mr. Reid. "Examine the surroundings well before you fire. There might be some one near."
Assured that there was not, Clarence raised his gun. "Beg pardon, girls," he said slyly, as he adjusted it to his shoulder. "Pheasants aresogood to eat."
They gave a little exclamation, then quickly covered both eyes and ears. The next moment a report rang out, followed instantly by another. When the smoke cleared away five of the birds were seen in their last flutterings.
"Now, how are we to get them?" asked Mallard.
"Why, sure enough, I didn't think of that!" exclaimed Clarence in dismay. "We can't carry the sampan close enough, that's certain."
Mr. Chefoo was now seen throwing off his sandals and rolling up his pantaloons, while Mr. Kit-ze, holding the sampan steady by means of his long pole, was giving him some directions. The next moment Mr. Chefoo sprang over the side of the sampan and into the water. He slipped once or twice as he was trying to make headway over the rocks, and two or three times also, he was seen to mire; but notwithstanding these difficulties he reached the birds all right, and was soon returning with them. As he came again to the side of the sampan it was toward the compartment occupied by the boys, the one in the rear of that in which all had been sitting since the boat left Han-Kang. He placed his hand upon the side of the boat to vault upward, but as he did so a quick exclamation escaped him, which the next moment changed to a decided whoop as Mr. Chefoo landed full in the compartment. A second or so later what was the astonishment of all when he dragged into view by the neck of his blouse a man, and began to shake him vigorously. To Helen was given something more than astonishment. Her heart leaped up, then almost ceased to beat. For the face exposed to view by Mr. Chefoo was the same she had seen on the river bank at Han-Kang with the glittering eyes fixed upon the redmiriokMr. Kit-ze held.
HE BEGAN TO SHAKE HIM VIGOROUSLY.HE BEGAN TO SHAKE HIM VIGOROUSLY.
T
he man made no effort to resist Mr. Chefoo, neither did he offer a word of protest, but stood silent and sullen, his lean face leaner than ever in its side view, his eyes half closed and gazing steadily downward.
"The rogue!" cried Mr. Wilburn. "He was there for no good purpose. Come, sir, what have you to say for yourself?"
But still the culprit made no answer. He only raised his eyes and let them sweep past Mr. Wilburn, past them all to Mr. Kit-ze, and rest there with a deep and burning glance.
"Speak to him, Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid. "Find out what was his object in concealing himself in the sampan. It may be," he continued charitably, "that he wanted to steal a ride to one of the villages."
But Mr. Kit-ze, instead of obeying this request, shifted himself a little farther away from the man, and seemed to be intent on something in the river.
"I think Mr. Kit-ze doesn't want to get mixed up in any trouble," said Mr. Wilburn in an undertone. "He probably fears it may end in his having to appear before a magistrate. That always means a fine, you know, whether one is in the right or the wrong. It is evident, brother, that we must adjust this matter ourselves with Mr. Chefoo's help, since Mr. Kit-ze plainly doesn't want to take a hand in it."
But neither threats nor persuasions could elicit a word of reply from the man. Even Mr. Chefoo's fine speeches failed.
"Can he be deaf and dumb?" asked Mr. Reid finally.
"No, father, he is not," replied Helen positively.
All eyes were now quickly turned to her, astonishment plainly written on the faces.
"Why, my daughter, how do you know?"
"Because, father, I saw him in the crowd that surrounded me for a few moments on the bank of the river at Han-Kang. I distinctly heard him talking to himself, though I could not understand the words. I thought at the time," she continued, "from the way in which he regarded Mr. Kit-ze, that they might be acquaintances."
As Helen spoke these last words, she turned her head so as to get a view of Mr. Kit-ze, but he still persistently kept his face turned away, while he seemed to be making aimless search in the river with his pole. He was assuredly doing nothing toward the progress of the boat, since that still remained stationary in the little rocky inlet toward which he had dexterously steered it when Mr. Chefoo had started for the birds.
Desiring that he should understand what Helen had suggested, Mr. Reid repeated it to him. The man was no acquaintance of his, Mr. Kit-ze emphatically declared.
"I think we had better pitch him into the river," said Mr. Chefoo, "and leave him to get out as best he can."
"Yes," said Clarence, "he deserves a ducking, if no more."
"No, we won't be so cruel as that," Mr. Reid replied, "although he may have been after no good. We'll go ashore at the next village and leave him."
"But first," said Clarence, "hadn't you better search him? He may have taken something of value."
"Yes, uncle," said Mallard, "we ought to do that."
To this both Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn consented; but, though close investigation was made, nothing was found on the man, nothing, at least, to which they could lay claim.
Mr. Reid gave the signal for the sampan to be headed again up the river. In the meanwhile, Clarence and Mallard kept watch upon the man, who had now assumed a squatting posture upon the floor of the sampan. To their surprise he began to mutter to himself. But even to Mr. Chefoo the words were unintelligible; all except the part of one sentence. In this Mr. Chefoo said had occurred the words, "Marble Pagoda," but he was evidently still as much mystified as the others.
The village to which they soon came was one of considerable size, picturesquely situated in the midst of chestnut groves. There were too, many beautiful clumps of the umbrella pine over which vines of red and white roses luxuriantly abloom were running riot.
A curious crowd swarmed around them at the landing. There were many in it who had never seen a foreigner. The soft hair and white skins of our friends called forth the most intense curiosity. Ridiculous too, were some of the comments. Question after question was directed to them. Some of these Mr. Chefoo answered. To others he paid no attention.
Who were they? Whence had they come? Were their families respectable? Did their ancestors occupy tombs on the hillside? Could they take off their eyes and pull out their teeth as it had been reported that they could? All of these and many more came in rapid succession.
When it was learned that they wanted to put a man ashore a great hue and cry was at once raised, and it was positively declared that this could not be done until the magistrate was seen and consulted. Thereupon, the magistrate's runners, six in number, appeared and assumed control of their movements. These runners were gorgeous in light blue coats, wide pantaloons of white, and big hats with red tassels.
Yes, the magistrate must be seen, they declared. Nothing else would do. In a rash moment Mr. Reid consented to see the magistrate. It is safe to say that had he known the result he would at once have headed his sampan off up the river again even with its objectionable occupant.
It was finally arranged that Mr. Reid, in company with Mr. Chefoo and the stowaway, should attend upon the magistrate while the others remained with the sampan. At the last moment Clarence begged to accompany his father, and consent was finally given. Mr. Reid could see no reason why the stowaway should be carried along with them, as he had really done nothing for which he could be punished. Their only desire was to leave him ashore. But the runners persisted that it was necessary that he too should go before the justice.
The magistrate was seated on the floor of a small platform over which matting was spread. Around him, also squatting on their heels, were two or three of his assistants. The chief official had on a robe of deep blue silk, slashed to the waist at intervals, and with pipings of orange silk introduced between. Only a small portion of his crimson trousers was showing. On his head was perched a little hat of glazed horsehair ornamented with crimson tassels.
Mr. Reid came into the room and very politely bowed to the magistrate, while Chefoo prostrated himself, as did the runners. Clarence, independent young American that he was, contented himself with saying, "Good day, sir," then began to use his eyes to their fullest extent.
CHEFOO PROSTRATED HIMSELF TO THE MAGISTRATE.CHEFOO PROSTRATED HIMSELF TO THE MAGISTRATE.
The magistrate took no notice of their presence. He merely remarked in a high key to his associates that foreigners were really demons, and that he couldn't see why they had ever been allowed in the country. As to himself, he had felt many times like setting up again, on his own responsibility, the tablets which, prior to the treaty, had declared that all foreigners were cutthroats and robbers, and should be killed on sight.[2]
Each of these sentences Mr. Chefoo cheerfully translated to Mr. Reid.
"The old barbarian," declared Clarence. "I feel like giving him a shaking."
The magistrate now deigned to become aware of their presence. "Who are these who have dared to approach me?" he asked in a big, off-hand way, but all the while he was nervously regarding Mr. Reid and Clarence. Foreigners, he knew from experience, were not always the chicken-hearted people they were declared to be.
The runners told him.
"Well, what is you name, and whence do your come?" was asked of Mr. Reid.
The replies came readily.
"How old are you? Has your father gone and left you? and was he an honorable man?"
To each of these, in turn, was given a cheerful response.
"Well, what are you doing in the country, anyhow? Do they know you are away? Do you get a salary? How much is it?"
After all these queries and many more had been answered to the magistrate's satisfaction, he deigned to hear the case that had been brought before him. When each detail had been gone over again and again, the magistrate put his head to one side, looked as wise as an owl for a few moments, and then proceeded to deliver himself of his decision.
By paying five Japaneseyen(ayenis one dollar), the man could be left ashore; but none of the rest could depart until he, the magistrate, visited the sampan and inspected its contents. He further added that he might come that evening if business permitted. If it did not, he would wait until morning. In the meantime they were to remain tied up where they were under the supervision of the runners.
On Mr. Reid's protesting against the injustice of having to pay such an amount for the mere privilege of putting a native ashore who had concealed himself in his sampan, the magistrate retorted by assuring him that he would then charge him, the missionary, that amount for having come ashore himself without first having communicated with him, the magistrate. Mr. Reid knew very well that such a proceeding was far from legal, as he had his passport which he had shown, but at the same time he felt it would be better for many reasons to pay the amount than to contest the point.
Fortunately, Mr. Reid had provided himself with a few of these valuable Japanese coins, which he carried on his person; otherwise he would have been subjected to the further delay of sending to the sampan, as the magistrate at once let it be understood that he could not depart until the amount was in hand.
On their return to the sampan they found that the others too, had been having trials in their absence. The curiosity of the crowd had now become almost unendurable. Men, women, and children had even climbed upon the sampan. They had inspected everything. The two girls had called forth the deepest excitement and curiosity. It was their hair that caused the most comment, especially Helen's; it was so soft and bright. For Helen's hair, though her eyes were dark, was of a light chestnut color. One woman had even gone so far as to offer a dozen eggs for a piece of it. Then she wanted to handle it, but this Helen declined. The woman's eyes and her manner made her nervous. But Dorothy, more assured than Helen, took hers from its fastenings, shaking it about her shoulders, then stood beyond reach of the outstretched hands, laughing merrily at the expressions of countenance and the somewhat wild gesticulations.
"Oh, Dorothy, how can you do that?" remonstrated Helen.
"If it gives the poor things any enjoyment, I don't mind," replied Dorothy.
"But don't you see that the sight of it that way excites them the more?"
"Oh, it's good as a show," declared Joyce, almost shouting out in his delight. "Don't you mind sister, Miss Dorothy."
Things were in this hubbub when Mr. Reid, Clarence, and the runners appeared. Mr. Reid joined in the effort to induce the people to withdraw from the sampan, but without success. Then the thought struck him that he would appeal to the runners. It is safe to say he hadn't the least conception of the result or, much as he wanted to get rid of the people, he would have hesitated.
The runners at once charged pell-mell upon the surging crowd, shouting and yelling as though they were seeking to stampede a herd of cattle. Big hats, green coats, topknots, and wide trousers were soon jumbled together in a series of kaleidoscopic flashes, then quiet reigned once more around the sampan. The runners had done them this much good, if no more.
The sun had almost disappeared behind the neighboring hills, and the night, traveling fast in that region, would soon be upon them. Still the magistrate had not appeared. They felt now that he would not come until morning. They were much provoked. Mr. Kit-ze especially showed displeasure. He had planned to reach the next town ere tying up for the night. There had already been too much delay at Han-Kang. He felt considerable compunction over this, and had been doing his best ever since to make up for lost time, and now felt thoroughly exasperated over this unnecessary detention. But there was no other course save to await the magistrate's pleasure.
Supper eaten, with curious eyes all around watching their every movement, Mr. Reid prepared for the evening service. "We will go ashore," he said to Mr. Wilburn, "and take Mr. Chefoo. The others can join in from the sampan."
They had no trouble to gather the people about them. Great was the wonder that spread as the services proceeded. A hymn was sung, a prayer made, a Bible lesson read, which Mr. Chefoo explained. Then with Mr. Chefoo still as interpreter, Mr. Reid began to speak to them. His words were about Jesus, our one ever-loving, steadfast friend. Exclamations of surprise, then of interest, began to be heard. "Could it be possible," they asked each other, "that there was One in the world who could love as this one loved? who could and did give his friendship 'without money and without price'?"
As Mr. Reid ceased speaking, an old man approached him. Would the honorable teacher tell him again the name of this wonderful Friend? When told he kept repeating it over and over. Other touching incidents occurred. Many questions were asked. When Mr. Reid lay down to sleep that night, it was with the happy feeling that more than a passing impression had been made upon some hearts, as it was also with the determination that he would come again to break the bread of life to these hungry souls.
Even when the crowd had left the sampan, scattered by the impetuosity of the runners, Helen still felt nervous. The persistency with which the women had pressed about Dorothy and herself, their incoherent words, burning glances, and fierce gestures had wrought her up to a high pitch of excitement. It was a long while ere she could go to sleep, even though her father assured her that it was to the interest of the runners to keep close watch upon the sampan. When at last Helen fell into slumber, it was to be disturbed by unpleasant dreams. In the midst of one of these she awakened with a start. She surely was conscious now, and what a moment of horror it was! for a rough hand was feeling its way along the meshes of her hair. A voice she knew from both tone and accent was no friendly one, was muttering in a manner that made her heart almost stop its beating.
FOOTNOTES:[2]Before the treaty of Korea with the United States, while yet it was known as the Hermit Nation, tablets bearing inscriptions similar to that quoted by the magistrate were placed at intervals throughout the country.
[2]Before the treaty of Korea with the United States, while yet it was known as the Hermit Nation, tablets bearing inscriptions similar to that quoted by the magistrate were placed at intervals throughout the country.
[2]Before the treaty of Korea with the United States, while yet it was known as the Hermit Nation, tablets bearing inscriptions similar to that quoted by the magistrate were placed at intervals throughout the country.
H
elen's first impulse was to scream, but with a great effort she controlled herself. Then, reaching up quickly, she grasped the hand between both of her own, holding on to it tightly. Instantly there was a frightened exclamation, and a violent movement on the other side of the straw curtain almost against which Helen's head lay. The next moment, the hand was wrenched away, and she heard a heavy splash in the water. Peering out through the opening between the curtains, she saw two Korean women moving away from the sampan. Thus she knew her midnight fright had been caused not through any evil intention but from the exercise of pure curiosity. They had but carried into effect the desire for a closer inspection of her hair.
So soundly did the other occupants of the sampan sleep that none of them were aroused by this incident, not even Dorothy. Thus it was an astonishing piece of news to them when Helen told it on the following morning.
Dorothy was overcome by admiration for Helen's coolness. "O Helen, are you sure you didn't scream, not the least little bit? Oh, I never could have taken it as you did," and she drew her breath quickly.
Others besides Dorothy had words of praise for Helen's fortitude. "Nine girls out of ten would have gone into hysterics," declared Clarence.
"Put the percentage lower," warned Dorothy, shaking her fist at him in well-feigned indignation.
"Well, seven out of ten then."
"Oh, that is much better."
It was long after breakfast when the magistrate condescended to appear. Then he kept them waiting an hour or more through his insatiable curiosity, for he must needs inspect everything in the boat, even to the faggots and the chicken coop. But at last they were off. They had been afraid that the man might attach himself to them again ere they left the village. However, up to the time of pushing off, they had seen nothing of him. He had been dropped on the way from the magistrate's the evening before, and evidently that was the last of him.
As they went along now, Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn were discussing the event, as well as the man's probable meaning when he had muttered the words "Marble Pagoda." Both missionaries knew of the old Marble Pagoda in Seoul, one of the curiosities of the place, though, strange to say, not many seemed to care to go about it. The natives especially shunned it, that is, a large percentage of them did. They declared that it was filled with demons and haunted by all kinds of evil spirits. It stood in one of the foulest parts of the city, just back of a narrow alley, and all around it were clustered wretched-looking hovels. It was said to be more than seven centuries old. It had been originally thirteen stories, but during the Japanese invasion of three centuries before, three stories had been taken off. Many of the chambers contained the richest carvings, especially that known as the room of the Five Hundred Disciples. That had the images of many of the Hindu divinities.
"I understand," said Mr. Wilburn, "that several bits of detached carving, some of them representing deities, and others the various stages of the progress of Buddha toward Nirvana, or the Buddhist heaven, have been found in the old pagoda up to a time within recent years. There is the story, not very old, of the young assistant of one of the Buddhist priests at a monastery in the mountains, who nearly forfeited his life by stealing one of the images that had been brought from the pagoda, a very rare and valuable one, by the way. But he escaped by the narrowest chance, though the priest hunted and hunted him for a long time, and may be doing it yet, for all I know."
"What a fortunate thing for our missionary labors," remarked Mr. Reid, "that Buddhism was long ago abolished throughout the kingdom, and only a little colony of the priests allowed here and there in remote places."
"Ah, my brother, but there are the horrors of demon worship with which to contend, and the stonelike barriers of ancestral worship to break away. The former is as bad as Buddhism, where it has taken deep hold."
"As it has in our sampan man here," observed Mr. Reid with a sigh. "Oh, if I could only see some impression made on him by our teachings, some little inclination toward the truth as it is alone found in the pure gospel of Jesus."
"Do not despair. He may turn to the better way in time. It seemed to me during the services last evening that he listened more intently than I had ever seen him. He seemed to be impressed too, by the questions that were asked, especially by the earnest ones of the old man."
"Oh, but he is so persistent in his devotions to that wretched little image he has. Only this morning I saw him fondling it. Sometimes I feel like taking it from him and pitching it far out into the stream."
"Oh but, father," said Helen earnestly, now joining the conversation because she felt that she must, "that would not be best, believe me."
"But how are we to teach them a better worship until we take their miserable idols from them?"
"Oh, father, we mustn't tear down to build up. If a man were living in an old and insecure house, we wouldn't pull it down over him, for fear of the damage it would do. If we were his true benefactors, we would simply invite him away from the old and into a better one."
"Well said!" declared Mr. Wilburn, his eyes shining. "You are a true reasoner, Miss Helen."
"But so long as they have these horrid images that they believe can counteract the evil effect of the demons, they will go on worshipping them. We must get them away."
"But not by compulsion, father."
"How then, Helen?"
"By love." She reached out and took his hand as she said the words, and began to pat it softly. Her lips trembled but her eyes met his bravely.
"Yes, my dear, yes, I know. When the heart is touched, love is the thing then with which to win them. But you can't pelt a stone wall with cotton, Helen, and hope to make any impression."
"But, my father, if cannon were used, what would be the result? Only devastation. We can't drive these poor things away from their idols. We must coax them."
"A woman's way, Helen. But, my daughter, you are doubtless right," he said a moment later. "I get so provoked at their persistency, their blind infatuation, I feel that I must use force, or at least warn them of God's wrath if they persist in their idolatry."
"Tell them of God's love ever waiting to receive them, you mean, father?"
"Yes, of God's love," repeated Mr. Wilburn, his eyes moistening as he looked at Helen, "the warm sunlight, gentle yet powerful, the one agent that, using no force, yet accomplishes what force cannot."
They made pleasant progress all that day and the next. The views of the river and from the river grew more and more picturesque. They had now passed beyond the range of hills on the highest point of which stood the fortress of Nam Han, with its garrison of Korean soldiers. The river had grown broader and its banks lower. They passed many beautiful islands and had more than one experience with rapids. While navigating these, Mr. Reid had insisted on the girls' going ashore attended by Mallard and Mr. Wilburn. This they did, joining the sampan a mile or so above after some rather exciting adventures with the natives. However, as there was no worse spirit displayed than that of curiosity, they suffered more annoyance than alarm.
Through a considerable part of that third afternoon they moved along in sight of several small villages inhabited by woodcutters and charcoal burners. At one of these Mr. Reid said he must stop, not only for the night but for much of the next day, for it was one that had been brought to the attention of his mission Board as an inviting field for the establishment of a station.
At first the people were alarmed when they caught sight of the strangers. But on the assurance of Mr. Chefoo and Mr. Kit-ze that all were friends, they released their chickens and their queer-looking little pigs, not much bigger than rabbits, which they had begun to put in pens at the approach of the sampan. They listened eagerly to what the missionaries had to say, pressed closely to them during the services, and had many questions to ask, all of an earnest character.
The magistrate too, at this place, to whom Mr. Reid had brought letters, treated them cordially and offered to assist him in any way he could. The chief men were also friendly and assured the missionaries that if they wanted to come and teach the new doctrine, they should have respectful attention.
One thing in connection with their stay at the village caused special happiness to Mr. Reid. Mr. Kit-ze had not only paid deep attention during the services, but he had remained thoughtful for some time thereafter. He had also come to both Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn with questions.
They remained all the next day, which was Friday, and that night at the village. Early the next morning the sampan was heading again up the river.
"Where shall we spend the Sabbath?" asked Mr. Reid.
"At Yo-Ju, I think, exalted teacher," replied Mr. Kit-ze. "If we pass the rapids without ill-luck, and push on steadily, we can reach there by the fall of the night."
But they had trying times at the rapids, the longest and the most dangerous yet encountered, so that the late afternoon found them a good half-day's journey from Yo-Ju. They had now come to the mountains in all their wildness and ruggedness. Silence fell upon the little party. No word could be spoken amid all that awe-inspiring beauty. Then Mr. Reid's voice broke the stillness as he repeated the ninety-seventh Psalm, "The Lord reigneth."
Though the way was so wildly picturesque on either side, yet the river at this place flowed peacefully along, washing about the shore of green islets or lapping the steep banks with a gentle murmur.
Suddenly, from the midst of some overhanging vines near which they were passing, there came a loud hail. Then a voice added in very good English: "Pause, friends! O exalted teacher, do I see you once more?"
"Why, that voice sounds familiar," said Mr. Reid. "Head the sampan toward the cliff, Mr. Kit-ze, and let us see what it means."
Mr. Kit-ze had no more than started to obey when a small flat boat came out from the overhanging bank and made toward them. It had three occupants, an elderly man who was sitting midway of it, and two younger ones who were propelling it. The old man was bolt upright despite his years, and made an interesting and picturesque figure with his snow-white hair, which, as is altogether unusual in Koreans, was falling about his shoulders, and with his partly civilized dress.
"Why, it is Mr. Ko!" cried Joyce.
"Yes," said Helen, a smile breaking over her face, "it is he, sure enough. Oh, how glad I am!"
"Old friend," cried Mr. Reid delighted, "can it be that I greet you again?"
"Yes, exalted master. Your old servant heard you were coming up the river. So, lo, since the evening of yesterday he has been watching for you."
THE OLD MAN WAS BOLT UPRIGHT, DESPITE HIS YEARS.THE OLD MAN WAS BOLT UPRIGHT, DESPITE HIS YEARS.
Mr. Reid now introduced Mr. Ko to Mr. Wilburn and the others. The old Korean had lived for years at the capital. There he had known the missionary and his family through three or four years. During two of these he had lived at the mission as gate-keeper and errand man. Mr. Reid had heard that he had inherited some property and had gone away from Seoul.
The old man was quite a character. He had shown considerable devotion to the missionary and his family, but Mr. Reid, with all his efforts in Mr. Ko's behalf, had never been able to get the old man further than the admission that the Jesus doctrine was a very fair sort of doctrine and, if he only had the time, he would give himself over to the practice of it.
Now the old man was delighted at seeing the missionary and his children again. They must spend some time with him, he declared. Everything had been prepared for them. He had even secured a cook who could give them the food as they liked it. Oh, this was a wonderful man, indeed. Only yesterday he had come. "The good spirits sent him," asserted Mr. Ko, "I am certain they did."
Nothing would do the old man but that Helen, at least, must have a glimpse of this wonderful cook the moment she reached the dwelling.
"There he is," said Mr. Ko, with the delight of a child, pointing through an opening into the kitchen.
A tall figure was bending over theang-pak, or great rice jar. At sound of Mr. Ko's voice he raised his head and glanced around. It was the stowaway of the sampan.
H
elen uttered an exclamation, then moved toward Mr. Ko. He read the expression of her face quickly.
"You know him?" he asked.
"I do not know him, but I have seen him. He was on the sampan with us after we left Han-Kang."
"Why, he did not tell me that! He only said that he had seen the honorable teacher and that he was coming. But no matter," continued Mr. Ko, and looking encouragingly toward the man. "He did not tell me because he had some reason not to. It is all right," he added cheerfully. "You may go on with the cooking."
"I know him," he said, turning again to Helen. "He was my neighbor in Seoul two years ago. He is a good sort of fellow, only there seems to be something on his mind. I don't understand that. Never did."
A deep perplexity now came to Helen. She could not decide whether or not to let the others know of the presence of the man at Mr. Ko's. She finally reached the decision to tell her father and Clarence and maybe Dorothy. There was, perhaps, after all, nothing wrong about the man. He had really done nothing to arouse their suspicions, only remained silent and sullen when he was questioned. She knew that her father believed that he had merely been stealing a ride. The only mysterious thing about him at present was his having so swiftly preceded them to Mr. Ko's. She afterward learned that he had fallen in with another sampan almost as soon as he had left them, and had worked his way up the river. While they lingered at the villages he had traveled.
Though Mr. Ko had adopted some of the ways of civilization, he still ate very much after the Korean fashion. Thus when they sat down to supper it was at little round tables not more than a foot or a foot and a half high. Instead of cloths, they were covered with sheets of glazed paper. Rice was the principal diet. It was set in an earthenware bowl near the center of each table. In addition there was a soup of beef and onions thickened with barley, a batter bread made of flour and oil and a slight sprinkling of sugar, chicken curry, eggs, and rice fritters. Mr. Ko also had tea, a rarity for the rural districts of Korea.
As Mr. Ko, Mr. Kit-ze, and Mr. Chefoo ate, they made a great noise with their mouths. This was done to show their appreciation of the viands, for in Korea, the greater the noise made while eating, the more forcefully defined is the compliment to the food.
Mr. Ko's house was much better than that of the average farmer. It was built of poles, mud-daubed, but the walls of the principal rooms were covered with paper. There were little windows of thick glazed paper while the doors were set in frames of light bamboo. The sleeping arrangements consisted principally of mats with blocks of wood for pillows. In the winter the beds were made over the brick flues that ran through the rooms connected with the great oven where the baking was done. Thus, in winter, to sleep in a Korean house means to roast and freeze by turns, for while the fire is kept up it is hot indeed, and when it is allowed to go out then "cold as a stone" gives the literal condition of a brick bed.
The house stood in a grove of mulberries, for to his other pursuits Mr. Ko added that of silkworm raising. There were clumps too, of the walnut and persimmon, with vines of the white and yellow clematis tangled amid their branches. Here the birds built, and here they poured forth their morning songs or chattered to their mates as they were going to bed at night. In front were the fields of wheat and barley, and farther down, in the very heart of the valley, the crops of rice. As it was near the end of April, the barley was already in ear and beginning to take on its russet coloring.
Mr. Ko, being an old bachelor, there were only men about the house. He had a saying with reference to which Clarence teased Helen and Dorothy rather unmercifully. It was to the effect that where there were women there was sure to be trouble.
"Oh, but Mr. Ko likes girls!" asserted Helen. "You can't make me believe otherwise, Master Clarence. He and I have been too long good friends."
"What was that I heard him say last night?" asked Dorothy, a mischievous light in her eyes, "about sons and how they were like dragon's teeth in the sides of their parents?"
Clarence looked rather sheepish at this quick turning of the tables on himself, and in a moment or so dexterously changed the conversation.
On the following day, which was the Sabbath, two services were held in Mr. Ko's mulberry grove. At the first not many were present, but by afternoon scores had flocked to the place from the neighboring farms and from the village. Curiosity was plainly depicted on all the faces, but as Mr. Reid proceeded, it changed to eager attention on the part of several. Mr. Chefoo made a good interpreter. He was both careful and earnest. Already the sweet, simple truths the missionary taught were beginning to make their appeal to his own heart. It was the old story of Jesus and his sweet ministrations to men, his sympathy for them, his understanding of their needs, the great, warm, deep love that took in all, even the poorest and humblest.
"And this Jesus is the same now as then," continued the missionary. "He is waiting to enter each heart and to possess it, to have our lives drawn nearer to his own, to bestow upon us the sweet knowledge of that companionship with him that may be ours through all the way."
The services were barely concluded when Mr. Kit-ze came to ask questions. Gladness was in Mr. Reid's heart as he saw the moved, wondering look upon the boatman's face. He wanted to know if this Jesus, who could do so much for men, who wanted to be their friend, was very rich and powerful? Could he bestow honor and wealth as well as friendship?
Mr. Kit-ze was told that the provisions of honor and wealth did not enter into Jesus' plans for the happiness of his people. He himself had shown his condemnation of the grasping hand, the covetous heart, by declaring that he who desired to be the greatest should be the least of all and servant to all.
"But he gives that to us which is better than all the honor and riches of earth," continued Mr. Reid; "he gives us contentment of life and peace of heart. Would not you think these far better than money or land, my friend?"
Mr. Kit-ze did not know. He had thought that it would indeed be a very fine thing to possess land and cattle and so comfortable a home as that of Mr. Ko.
This, then, had been the thought uppermost with Mr. Kit-ze when contemplating the character of Jesus, the Divine Friend, and the thought of the possible worldly elevation the friendship might bring him. The missionary felt a deep pain at his heart as he realized whither Mr. Kit-ze's thoughts had led him. But at the same time there was something in his attitude to inspire hope. Mr. Kit-ze had been impressed. That was plainly evident. His mind was in a deep whirl of thought. Other and better things would surely be evolved from it in the end. Many times during that day he made fervent petition for Mr. Kit-ze.
Mr. Kit-ze's perplexity increased as one thought after another came to him. The exalted teacher had not answered as he had hoped. All was still so uncertain, so unsatisfactory. Ah, now he knew what he would do! He would go to the daughter of the honorable teacher, to her who had the soft voice, the gentle ways, the kind heart. She could make it plain, she would tell it so that it would reach his understanding.
Helen's heart leaped as Mr. Kit-ze asked her the questions. She could see how deeply in earnest he was. Oh, could it be that he was at last awakened, that he would search until he had found the truth, would accept Jesus as the one faithful Friend? His first and second questions aroused these thoughts; but the third, how it disturbed her, as it had also disturbed her father. It was the same question about earthly honor and wealth.
"Dear Mr. Kit-ze," said Helen, taking his hand, and at that moment he felt that he would have done anything for her, "those who truly love Jesus, who have taken him as their Friend, do not think of such things in connection with what Jesus does for them. They know that whatever is best for them he will send, that whatever of good gifts they will use happily, he will bestow. But further than this they do not go, for, Mr. Kit-ze, when once we have taken Jesus, we must trust him for everything. We must not question or ask him for this thing or the other. Thus, Mr. Kit-ze, if you had a worldly friend, one in whom you believed with all the mind, in whom you trusted with all the heart, would you not willingly follow that friend wherever he bade you go and take everything from him as meant for your good?"
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Kit-ze, "oh, yes."
"Well, thus it is with Jesus. When we take him for our Friend, truly take him, we do not require anything of him. We leave all that to him and only trust him. He loves us. Oh, how he loves, Mr. Kit-ze! He is the truest lover in all the world. Could he, or would he, then, do aught else but what is best for the one beloved?"
"Oh, daughter of the exalted teacher," said the boatman, his voice tremulous with some new-found emotion, "you have put that into Mr. Kit-ze's heart which will make him think, think!" He went away with his hand still pressed upon his heart and murmuring to himself.
Helen had told her father of the presence of the stowaway in Mr. Ko's kitchen, and of her great surprise at finding him there.
"Oh, I suppose there isn't anything mysterious about it, Helen," her father made answer; "nothing to be dreaded from him, I know. He looked inoffensive enough, though sullen, and you remember we didn't find anything on his person. I am only astonished at the rapidity with which he has made his way up the river; but from what you have since learned and have told me, that too is clear."
Helen was glad her father took the man's presence in this way. She really felt sorry for the poor fellow. He had looked at her so pathetically the evening before ere she left the kitchen with Mr. Ko, and had murmured something in which she caught the words, "No harm, no harm." His eyes had not then the burning look she had noticed when they were fixed upon Mr. Kit-ze. Instead, they were soft and pleading.
She was ready now to tell Clarence and Dorothy. They had walked down to the bluff for a view of the river and of the track of the setting sun as it moved across the water like some golden-freighted craft.
Clarence, boylike, whistled his astonishment at the communication. "Why, Helen, how did he ever manage to get here so far ahead of us?" he asked at length. "It seems almost incredible."
"On a sampan, as I have told you Mr. Ko informed me. There isn't anything so strange about that. What troubles me is the feeling that he is following us."
"I think this time we followed him," observed Clarence trying to be a little witty.
"But he was evidently awaiting us here."
"Then we'll ask him his business," declared Clarence.