The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Red MiriokThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: The Red MiriokAuthor: Annie Maria BarnesIllustrator: George A. NewmanRelease date: January 2, 2011 [eBook #34810]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Barbara Tozier, Stephanie McKee, Bill Tozierand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED MIRIOK ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: The Red MiriokAuthor: Annie Maria BarnesIllustrator: George A. NewmanRelease date: January 2, 2011 [eBook #34810]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Barbara Tozier, Stephanie McKee, Bill Tozierand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net
Title: The Red Miriok
Author: Annie Maria BarnesIllustrator: George A. Newman
Author: Annie Maria Barnes
Illustrator: George A. Newman
Release date: January 2, 2011 [eBook #34810]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Barbara Tozier, Stephanie McKee, Bill Tozierand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED MIRIOK ***
Korea has been called the "Hermit Nation," as of all nations Tibet alone has exceeded it in repulsing foreign influences. Only in 1882 did the United States secure a treaty, and that opened the country to foreign trade only in the capital, Seoul, and three ports. But in this treaty Korea was treated with as an independent State, and its people are distinct from either Chinese or Japanese and well repay study and missionary labors. This little story is one of the first to present this slightly known land and its customs, and therefore deserves special attention from all who are interested in the Christianizing of Oriental nations.
CHAPTER I:Mr. Kit-zeCHAPTER II:A Hasty DesertionCHAPTER III:The Lost RecoveredCHAPTER IV:A StowawayCHAPTER V:Before the MagistrateCHAPTER VI:A Friendly HailCHAPTER VII:An EntreatyCHAPTER VIII:The Story of Choi-soCHAPTER IX:A TheftCHAPTER X:An Arrested SacrificeCHAPTER XI:"One Soul"TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
"Mr. Kit-ze's hat was moving across the organ"'Yes, only a little, for it takes nearly three thousand ofthem to make a dollar'""Yes, it was the red miriok""He began to shake him vigorously""Cheefoo prostrated himself to the magistrate""The old man was bolt upright, despite his years""Then, extending his hands, entreated""He was permitted to look ... upon the priests at theirdevotions""He forthwith ... proceeded to throw rice into the well""'Stop!'entreated Helen""'Sorry. Sorry. It was wrong. She showed me'"
T
here is one thing I forgot to mention," said Mr. Reid, resuming the conversation. "If we do undertake our sampan journey, we must have Mr. Kit-ze. I have already talked to him about it."
"Oh, father!"
The expression of Clarence's face so emphasized his protest that nothing beyond the mere exclamation was necessary.
"Why, Clarence, what could be the objection to Mr. Kit-ze?"
"A good one, father. He is such an eel-like fellow. I know we couldn't depend on him. Then it strikes me that his mind isn't right. He's always muttering to himself and clutching his breast in such a queer way. Oh, I'm sure it would be a bad step to take Mr. Kit-ze."
"That is just like a boy!" declared Helen, his sister, "jumping at conclusions."
"You mean girls," retorted Clarence. "They fairly spring at them; yes, reach out their arms to grasp 'em as they spring."
"Come, children, don't spar," warned Mr. Reid. "But, my son," turning to Clarence, "I fear it is as your sister asserts, you have arrived at conclusions too hastily with reference to Mr. Kit-ze. He is a little strange in his manner, I'll admit; but his friends, some of whom belong to the mission, tell me that he is a very good sort of fellow, honest and well-meaning, though he is rather grasping as to money matters."
"He is well-meaning," asserted Helen; "and I think the reason he is so close about money is because he has many who are dependent on him. Yes, I like Mr. Kit-ze. Though some of his ways are strange, yet he is good-natured and kind when you know him well."
"Guess, then, I don't know him well," admitted Clarence.
"No; and until you do, you won't like him."
Clarence whistled, and reached over to give the tail of Nam-san, the monkey, a twist, which that quick-tempered little animal resented by scratching at him and then springing away.
"I think I know what is the matter with Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid, as though in sudden comment after following a line of thought. "He is a religious enthusiast."
Helen looked at him quickly, a glad light over-spreading her face. "Oh, father, I didn't know that Mr. Kit-ze had been converted. Thatisnews."
"I don't mean that, Helen. I wish that it were true, for I have been working earnestly to that end for more than a year. What I have reference to is that he is an enthusiast in his own religious belief."
"Why, I didn't know, uncle, that these people had any religious belief," said his nephew, Mallard Hale, who for a few moments past had not joined in the conversation. "I believe, yes, I am sure I have seen it stated that as a country Korea is practically without a religion."
"That is true in one sense, Mallard, but not in another. While Korea has no established religion, what might be called a national religion, as have China, Japan, and her other neighbors, yet such of the Koreans as have not individually embraced Buddhism, Confucianism, and the like, are given over wholly to ancestral and to demon worship, especially the latter."
"What do you mean by demon worship, uncle?"
"They believe in spirits of all degrees, good, bad, and indifferent, but principally the bad. They fill the air around them; they dwell in their homes; they sit at their feasts; they even perch upon such portions of the human body as suits them. They bring evil or good as they are angered or appeased. To counteract the influence of the evil demons the people carry about with them certain charms to frighten them away. Around their habitations, especially in the country districts, they erect these grotesque figures having resemblance to the human form, the more hideous the better. They are calledmirioks. In the cities, where there is little space for such erection, the figures, considerably diminished in size, are either kept in the homes or carried about the person. In many instances this devotion tomirioksamounts to fanaticism of the most pronounced kind."
"Oh, yes, that is just what Mr. Kit-ze does!" exclaimed Joyce, the younger son of the family. "He carries it around in his bosom. Sometimes he takes it out and talks to it. I have seen it. Oh! it is the ugliest little red thing!"
All eyes were now turned inquiringly upon him. "I believe, yes, I am sure," he continued, "if I were to see it in the black dark, I'd run from it."
"Why, how could you see it in 'the black dark'?" quizzed Mallard.
Joyce flushed as the laugh went around at his expense, then he answered: "Oh, I mean if it were so I could see it even a little bit. I am sure I could see its eyes, for they are made out of something that just glitters and burns."
"It is as I supposed," said Mr. Reid; "Mr. Kit-ze is an enthusiast on the subject of thismiriok. This accounts for his strange behavior, his mutterings, and the clutchings at his breast. He keeps themiriokthere in the folds of his gown. He believes that it wards away the evil spirits and invites the good. On other subjects I am sure he is all right. At any rate, if we are going to attempt that journey up the Han we shall be almost dependent on him. He not only has the largest sampan and is considered the safest boatman on the river, but he also knows the way better, having ascended higher than any other, I am told."
"Then, uncle, we must have him by all means," said Mallard decisively.
"Yes," added Clarence somewhat flippantly, "redmiriokand all."
"Yes, even the redmiriokto get Mr. Kit-ze," declared Mallard. Then he asked, "Isn't the journey attended by some degree of danger?"
"With considerable danger at some places, I understand, Mallard; and this is why we should have a stout sampan as well as a sampan man who understands both his business and the river."
The family of Rev. Mr. Reid, missionary at Seoul, Korea, consisted of his wife, her widowed sister, his two sons, Clarence and Joyce, and his daughter, Helen. Mallard Hale, an American youth of seventeen, had recently come to make his home with his uncle. He was only a few months older than Clarence, and the two cousins were very fond of each other. Helen was nearly fifteen and Joyce twelve.
For some days they had been talking of this sampan journey up the Han. Mr. Reid had long wanted to take such a trip into the interior for the purpose of making observations of the country and of studying the conditions of the people along the south branch of the Han. It was reported to be a wonderfully attractive and fertile section, with a people whose manners and customs, differing from those in the cities, made them of deep interest to the traveler. They were described as quiet and peaceful, given to hospitality, and fairly burning with curiosity.
The Mission Board, under the auspices of which Mr. Reid labored, had for some time contemplated the establishment of a branch mission in the interior. They were waiting for him to decide the point where it should be located. He had hesitated a long time about undertaking the sampan journey because as yet there had not been sufficient money to defray the necessary expenses. But the coming of his nephew, Mallard Hale, had quickly done away with this obstacle. For Mallard was comfortably fixed as to income, and he insisted on bearing all the expense of hiring and propelling the sampan, while his uncle was left to provide only for provisions and equipments.
"Then, uncle," said Mallard, after they had talked a little further, "let us decide positively on going, also that we take Mr. Kit-ze and his sampan."
"Yes, red——" began Clarence, but the words were cut short by an exclamation from Joyce.
"Why," he cried, "here is Mr. Kit-ze now!"
Sure enough, Mr. Kit-ze was coming in. It was just after dinner, oropan, as they would say in Korea, and Mr. Kit-ze was still caressing his lips with his tongue, well pleased with the toothsome morsels that had gone to comfort his stomach. He was a little stouter and taller than the average man of his race, standing five feet six in his sandals, weighing, perhaps, one hundred and sixty pounds, and was fifty years of age. His complexion, originally of a bright olive, had now a deep tan through the action of sun and winds. He had a straight nose, but rather distended nostrils, the oblique Mongolian eye, while his hair, of a deep russet-brown smeared with lampblack, was wound in a knot at the top of his head.
Mr. Kit-ze had on the loose white robe of his countrymen, with flowing sleeves, that fell just below the knees. It was belted in with a girdle of straw. Beneath it showed his baggy trousers, gathered in at the ankle. Akatsi(hat), in shape like a flower pot turned down over a table, wadded stockings, and sandals of straw completed his attire. When he removed his hat, on Mr. Reid's invitation, there was a little tight-fitting skullcap of horsehair underneath, carefully placed on top of his knot of hair. He seemed solicitous about his hat, not knowing just where to place it. It was, indeed, a huge affair for a hat, the brim being nearly six feet in circumference. At home Mr. Kit-ze had his swinging case for his hat, but here he was at a loss as to its disposal. Helen at length came to the rescue and placed it on top of the organ, where it rested, one portion of the brim lying upon a large music book, the other flat upon the surface of the instrument.
"Well, Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid, "are you ready to take another journey with your sampan up the South Han?"
Instead of replying to this question, Mr. Kit-ze suggested: "Better go up the North Han, honorable instructor. There are the Diamond Mountains."
Clarence jumped up suddenly, shouting out his delight: "Yes, father, let's go to the Diamond Mountains. Oh, won't that be glorious?"
"And pick up treasure," suggested Helen; "enough to build the new mission chapel that is so needed," she added, her eyes taking on a deeper glow as she glanced at her father.
"Why, are there really any treasures to be found in those mountains?" asked Mallard, catching the excitement.
Mr. Kit-ze, who understood enough of the language to catch the drift of the question, quickly replied: "Yes, honorable sir, there are treasures. Two gentlemen from your country got a whole wallet full of diamonds in the mountains last week. They say they can be picked up like bamboo reeds after a freshet."
"Only Mr. Kit-ze's enthusiasm," said Mr. Reid in an aside to his nephew. "Some one has been filling him with the story, which is vastly exaggerated, I am sure. But later in the year, Mallard, if you desire it, we can make the trip to the Diamond Mountains. Now my Master's business calls me in another direction."
"All right, uncle, that Diamond Mountain trip can wait. Yes, we'll take it later," he added after a pause.
"Is your sampan ready, Mr. Kit-ze?" Mr. Reid now asked.
MR. KIT-ZE'S HAT WAS MOVING ACROSS THE ORGAN!MR. KIT-ZE'S HAT WAS MOVING ACROSS THE ORGAN!
"Not quite, exalted master; but your servant can make it ready in a day or so."
"Are you sure of that? We should like to start by Tuesday of next week; and when we are ready we want the sampan ready. You understand?"
"Most learned teacher, it shall be as you wish," Mr. Kit-ze assured him, with a bow that brought his forehead almost to the floor.
A full understanding was now had; the day set, arrangements perfected, and the amount of Mr. Kit-ze's remuneration satisfactorily adjusted.
Mr. Kit-ze arose to go. All this time, having declined the chair offered to him, he had been squatting upon his heels, his legs doubled back under him. Considering the position, it was surprising how quickly he got up. He had barely gained his feet when a sudden cry that startled them all escaped him. He was gazing straight toward the organ, his features growing rigid, his eyes dilating. Following his gaze, it took them only an instant to discover what was the matter—Mr. Kit-ze's hat was moving across the organ, moving as though it had feet and were walking.
T
he pupils of Mr. Kit-ze's eyes grew larger and larger. They seemed ready to burst into flame. He began to mutter: "The spirit! the spirit! It has attached itself to my hat! It will now attend me home and stay there; how long, I do not know." He made a sudden movement toward the door. He was evidently going away without his hat. Nothing could induce him to touch it while the spirit had taken hold of it in so demonstrative a way. Plainly his thought was that it was better to lose the hat than to run the risk of contact with the spirit.
His movement was hasty, but, quick as he was, Helen acted more quickly. In an instant of time, as it were, she had grasped the whole situation. Her eyes too had done her good service. Her glance in the direction of the moving hat had shown her what Mr. Kit-ze did not see, nor even the others at first, an inch or so of snake-like tail showing beneath the rim of the hat. She sprang toward the organ, quickly threw up the hat, and exposed to view the whole furry body of Nam-san, the monkey, who began to chatter at her indignantly, the shrill notes heard above the burst of laughter that now came from the others.
Mr. Kit-ze was just backing out of the doorway, but he paused as Helen's quick movement disclosed Nam-san under the hat.
"You see it is the monkey, Mr. Kit-ze," said Helen smiling. "He is a mischievous little beast, and doesn't respect anything that he can have his fun with; not even your hat, Mr. Kit-ze. But he hasn't hurt it. See, it is all right!"
She advanced toward Mr. Kit-ze bearing the hat. She held it toward him, but he did not take it. He still seemed alarmed, and his glance was nervous.
Seeing the condition Mr. Kit-ze was still in and his attitude toward the hat, Mr. Reid now came to Helen's assistance. "There has no harm befallen the hat," he assured Mr. Kit-ze. "It was only the little beast under it, as you saw, that was causing it to move. It is all right now, my friend," and he took the hat from Helen and held it toward Mr. Kit-ze.
Mr. Kit-ze still hesitated, but, after further reassuring words from Mr. Reid, he consented to receive the hat. Yet he did not put it on; he turned away, holding it gingerly between his thumb and one finger. After he had gone, they found it on the doorstep, a mark apparently made with red chalk drawn all around the rim.
"The superstitious old crank!" exclaimed Clarence in disgust; "what made him leave his hat with us? Why didn't he take it away and destroy it, if he was that afraid of it?"
"I think he left it as a reproach to us," said Mr. Reid. The eyes around him sought his inquiringly.
"It is a hint that, as the misfortune befell it here, and he is now deprived of his hat, we should replace it with another."
"And how will Mr. Kit-ze feel toward us, uncle, if we do not?" asked Mallard.
"I fear not very pleasantly, for a while, at least," replied Mr. Reid.
"Then the new hat must go to him by all means," said Mallard. "We can't afford to start off with our sampan man in the pouts."
"No, indeed," assented Helen.
So the next day they sent Mr. Kit-ze a new hat, with expressions of regret at what had happened, and with the assurance that the other hat had been destroyed.
"For that is what he expects of us," Mr. Reid had said. "He drew the red chalk mark so as to confine the spirit within the hat, then left the hat for us to destroy, together with the spirit. All pure foolishness," he concluded, a little emphatically. "We'll just throw the hat aside."
"No, father," said Helen decisively, "we will burn it."
"And thus encourage Mr. Kit-ze in his silliness?" asked Clarence.
"In his superstition," corrected Mr. Reid.
"But it is all so real to him, poor man!" said Helen. And she continued, her eyes softening: "If it will make him feel better to know it is destroyed, isn't it worth while?"
"Yes," assented Mallard heartily, "it is. We'll burn the hat, my Helen. I'm sure uncle won't object."
"Oh, no," assented Mr. Reid. "If Helen wants to take the trouble, let her do it."
A day or two later Mr. Kit-ze came again. He had on his new hat, and was in the best of humor. Especially did his face express pleasure when Helen, carrying him to a spot in the yard, showed him the small pile of ashes to which the hat had been reduced. He stooped hurriedly, gathered them up, and, holding them in his palms, blew his breath hard upon the mass, scattering it to the four winds. Then he grunted with satisfaction, and, going down on hands and knees, made Helen a series of the most profound bows.
He had come to tell them that the sampan was ready, but on account of the great danger of the shoals near Seoul, they must make their arrangements to start from Han-Kang, four miles from the city. Themselves and their supplies could be transported thither by pony-back. Mr. Kit-ze further informed them that he had secured, as both interpreter and assistant boatman, one Mr. Cheefoo, a graduate of the government schools. He had recently fallen upon hard ways, and was glad enough to earn a little for himself, as well as to see some of the world, even if it were only his own country. Mr. Cheefoo would be sent to assist them with the loading, and to guide them to Han-Kang, where Mr. Kit-ze and the sampan would be found awaiting them.
Mr. Chefoo came a day ahead of the time set for starting, for the supplies must be carefully packed into bales ere they could be loaded. He had too, some suggestions from Mr. Kit-ze as to what to take and how to take it. The selection of the necessary provisions and other supplies had cost them much thought and planning. They knew they must not overload the sampan, as much as they might want to take some things. On the other hand was the danger of starting out with a too meagre supply. They finally decided on the following: seventy-five pounds of flour, thirty pounds of rice,—they expected to buy more of this on the way,—a half-bushel of beans, a strip or two of dried beef, a small amount of meats in cans and of tomatoes for soups.
"We can get eggs and vegetables from the country people," said Mr. Reid, who had traveled some in the interior districts, "and there will be fish in the river to be caught."
The other supplies consisted of a brazier for charcoal, a frying pan, saucepan, and kettle, some drinking mugs of stoneware, plates and soup plates of tin, knives, forks, and spoons, the latter of wood. Mallard had his camera, and Clarence the fine Winchester which his cousin had presented to him. In addition, each traveler carried a rubber coat, a pair of blankets, and two changes of underclothing. One thing they came near forgetting, but Mrs. Reid's forethought caused them to include it among the stores almost at the last minute. This was a little case of medicines.
It was an excited and happy party that rode away from the mission house early on the following Tuesday morning. In addition to Mr. Reid, Mallard, Helen, Clarence, and Joyce, there were Mr. Wilburn, a young missionary from another station, and his sister, Dorothy, a very dear friend of Helen. Indeed, for two years past the girls had been almost inseparable. Mr. Reid's native assistant in the mission work and his wife were to be the companions of Mrs. Reid and her sister during the two weeks the party expected to be away.
They moved through the narrow streets, so narrow that it was necessary to go in single file. Even that was difficult at times, for, though the hour was early, a mass of people was beginning to stir abroad. Along each side of some of the streets ran a gutter, green with slime and thick with all manner of putrid matter. The low mud huts, with their queer, horse-shoe shaped straw roofs, were set so close to this it seemed that any one coming out of the door must fall into the slime if he were not careful. All along the streets dogs and children were tumbling about, sometimes rolling the one over the other. Even the close observer would have found it hard to decide which was the dirtier, dog or child.
"Oh, my, the dirty youngsters!" exclaimed Mallard, as he picked his pony's way gingerly along, sometimes finding it quite difficult to keep from riding right upon a squirming little mass of humanity. "Where are the mothers," he continued, "to let them run so into danger?"
"You will soon find out, Mallard," replied his uncle, "that the Korean woman has her hands too full of the major duties of washing and ironing to attend with any degree of success to the minor one of looking after her children. There! do you not hear that strange rat-ta-tat noise? That is made by the wooden club coming down upon the garment wrapped about its iron cylinder. Wherever you go over Seoul, at almost any hour, day or night, you can hear that familiar sound. It denotes the Korean slave-wife's battle with the white clothes of her lord and master, which must receive a certain amount of gloss, or there will be a storm in the domestic sky."
As they came out through the massive stone arches of the great South Gate, its lofty drum chamber with tiled roof overhead, a new world seemed to burst upon them. They could see plainly now the line of mountains and the nearer circlet of hills, the latter flower-crowned and sparkling like jewels in the golden light of the sun. Brilliant, indeed, was the coloring where the rich clusters of azaleas grew, and the tangled masses of clematis and honeysuckles. Butterflies and dragon-flies flitted through the air; numerous ducks and geese hovered along the edge of the river, now alighting and skimming the water for a few moments, then dipping wing to fly away. Flocks of cranes waded in and out of the shallow places, hunting for small fish to seize. All around was the beauty and the glory of the spring,—matchless skies, bursting flowers, and singing birds,—such a spring as makes Seoul and its surroundings a joy to eye and heart, never to be surpassed, always to be remembered.
They took the path along the river, and in a little more than an hour's time had reached Han-Kang, where they found Mr. Kit-ze and the sampan, both in fine trim and ready to be off. Mr. Kit-ze had changed his white clothing for his boatman's suit, which consisted of a blouse and Turkish trousers of coarse blue cotton cloth. He was very proud of his sampan, and insisted on showing them its various fine points as well as dwelling upon them.
"Never has such a craft gone up the waters," he declared; and indeed it did look workmanlike alongside of those usually seen on Korean streams. To begin, it had two very essential qualities—it was strongly made and it was well calked throughout. From fore to aft it measured thirty-six feet, was seven in width at its widest portion, and drew six to seven inches of water.
At Mr. Reid's request, Mr. Kit-ze had rigged up a new and a more substantial roof along the ridgepole and its supporting framework. This was composed of thick, water-tight mats of tough grass. There were also curtains of the same material that could be fastened along the sides in case of rain or when the glare of the sun was too strong. This roof was only about five feet from the floor of the sampan, so that it was very plain to all eyes that most of its occupants would have to content themselves with sitting or with standing in a stooping posture. The boat had five compartments, three of them from seven to eight feet long, and the other two only small affairs indeed. One of the latter was in the bow of the boat and the other at the stern. Here the boatmen stood to pole the boat during the day, and in them they curled down to sleep at night, each rolled in a straw mat and with the side of the boat as a pillow.
"All hands to the stores!" announced Mr. Reid. "The more quickly we have them in and are off the better. The sun will be pretty warm after a while."
Mr. Chefoo had brought along a young man to carry the ponies back, and he too was anxious to begin his return journey. So all hands set to with a will, even Helen and Dorothy assisting "like good fellows," as Clarence expressed it.
Mr. Kit-ze, following Mr. Reid's instructions, had previously carried aboard the sampan a supply of charcoal and some bundles of faggots. It was only the stores brought by the ponies that now had to be loaded.
One thing amused Mallard greatly. This was the shape in which most of their money to be spent on the way had to be brought, strung on cords of straw. And the amount had proved almost a full burden for one pony, though in all it was only about twenty dollars. What queer looking coins they were! of copper, with a small square hole through their center.
YES, ONLY A LITTLE, FOR IT TAKES NEARLY THREE THOUSAND OF THEM TO MAKE A DOLLAR.YES, ONLY A LITTLE, FOR IT TAKES NEARLY THREE THOUSAND OF THEM TO MAKE A DOLLAR.
"This is our often abused but ever available 'cash,'" said Mr. Reid, holding up one of the crude bits of metal for Mallard to see. "As there are no bankers or money changers on the way, we must take it with us, for it is the only coin accepted in the rural districts. We must have a little ready money with us," he added.
"Oh, uncle, you call that alittle?" and Mallard pointed to the pony with his burden of coin.
"Yes, only a little, for it takes nearly three thousand of them to make a dollar."
Mallard recalled his uncle's words now, as he was helping to store the coin away in what Helen and Dorothy had termed the sitting room of the sampan.
He had turned to address a merry remark to Helen when he was struck by the appearance of Mr. Kit-ze. The boatman had stopped in the midst of something he was doing as suddenly as though he had felt the force of an electric shock. He had thrown his head up and was now clutching nervously at the folds of his blouse. Almost at the moment that Mallard's eyes were directed upon him he uttered a sharp little cry. It was of sufficient compass to reach the ears of the others. As their eyes too were turned upon him, what was the astonishment of all to see Mr. Kit-ze the next moment rush up the bank to where one of the ponies, with empty saddle, was standing, and flinging himself upon it, go galloping away like one suddenly out of his senses.
E
xclamations of astonishment and of dismay followed Mr. Kit-ze. "What can he mean?" asked Mr. Reid, his eyes fixed in wonder upon the fast-retreating form of his boatman. "He surely hasn't deserted us!"
"It evidently looks that way," replied Mr. Wilburn.
"Now we are in a box!" exclaimed Clarence. "How are we to go on without our sampan man?"
"Well, we have the sampan," remarked Mallard cheerfully. "The only other thing now is to look out for some one to take charge of it."
"Easier said than accomplished," commented Mr. Reid. "Besides, though Mr. Kit-ze has deserted us, yet the sampan is his. We can't take possession without his consent."
"He has forfeited his right to protest against such a step," declared Mr. Wilburn, "by his desertion and breach of contract. I am for taking possession of the sampan, engaging some one to have charge of it, assisted by Mr. Chefoo here, then allowing Mr. Kit-ze so much for its use."
"But a competent sampan man is hard to find," said Mr. Reid. "That was why I stuck to Mr. Kit-ze."
"Oh, but it is too bad to lose our trip!" exclaimed Mr. Wilburn, "especially when so much relating to our work depends on it," and he looked wistfully at Mr. Reid.
"Yes, too bad," assented Mallard.
"Oh, we must go," declared Clarence.
Even Helen and Dorothy were for going on, that is, if satisfactory arrangements could be made.
"But maybe Mr. Kit-ze will return," suggested Helen.
"Yes," said Mr. Chefoo, who now spoke for the first time, "he will return." All turned to look at him inquiringly. He had spoken very positively.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because, honorable sirs, he went away as one who will come back. There was no parting word. He will return."
"He didn't have sense for any parting word," commented Clarence. "It seemed all taken from him."
"No," asserted Mr. Chefoo, "it was only the excitement that comes when one knows there has been a loss."
"'A loss'!" echoed Clarence.
"Yes; Mr. Kit-ze has either lost something of very great value, for which he has now gone to make search, or else he has forgotten something that he has gone to bring. It is one or the other as you will in time discover, son of the honorable teacher."
"But why act in that demented way? Couldn't he have explained to us, and then gone after it in a respectable fashion?"
"It was something by which he set so great a store, youthful sir, that he was overcome by what its loss signified to him. I should say," continued Mr. Chefoo, "that it is something without which he could not proceed, or without which he——"
Here Mr. Chefoo paused.
"Well?" asked Clarence.
"Without which he would fear to go on."
"I see!" exclaimed Mr. Reid. "It was——"
"Let me finish, father," cried Clarence. "It was the redmiriok. That old crank has either left it or lost it. Now we must be tied up here waiting his pleasure."
"Yes," said Mr. Reid in a disgusted manner, "it was the redmiriokthat carried him off in that demented way; I am sure of it. But don't call him a crank so boldly, Clarence. It would offend him should he hear it."
"Well, what else is he? It is just too bad to be deserted in this way and for such silliness. Oh, I wish that the redmiriokwas in the bottom of the river."
"Then, we'd never get Mr. Kit-ze to proceed," assured Mr. Wilburn, who by this time had heard the story of the redmiriok; "or at least not until its counterpart was procured. But we can't stay here," he continued. "We must, at least, try getting on to the next village. There Mr. Kit-ze can join us. We'll leave word for him. This is a very objectionable locality for more reasons than one, and the sooner we move away from it the better."
In the meanwhile a large crowd had gathered, both on the river bank and in the shallow water surrounding the sampan. All were agape with curiosity. It is a well-known saying in Korea, and one the truth of which travelers have often proved, that if you move on, very little comment is excited; but if you stand still and appear to be engaged in anything, or even to be looking at an object, curiosity of the most intense kind is aroused. It takes but a minute or two then for the crowd to gather around you, each individual member thereof following anxiously the glance of your eye and hanging with almost breathless intent upon every movement of hand or leg.
There were women and children in the crowd as well as men. The former were so overcome by their curiosity that they had for the time forgotten to keep their long, green coats close up about their eyes, which is the custom when women are abroad in Korea. They now hung loosely about their necks, the long, wide sleeves that are rarely used swinging over their shoulders.
An old woman with much vigor of speech offered them barley sugar for sale. She was very dirty, and her wares looked as uninviting as herself. But feeling sorry for her, Helen invested quite liberally in the barley sugar, immediately bestowing it upon a little group of open-mouthed children who stood near. In some way the old woman had caught a part, at least, of the situation. She seemed to comprehend that they were at a loss whether to go on or to stay. In return for Helen's graciousness she came to the rescue by suggesting that they send for amutang(sorceress) who lived near. She would come with her drum and cymbals, her wand and divination box,[1]and in a little while she could tell them what to do.
The sun was now climbing nearer and nearer the meridian, and its rays were growing unpleasantly warm. More than an hour had been wasted since the loading of the sampan. They had burned the bridge behind them, as the saying is, by sending the man back to the city with the ponies. There was nothing now but to go on, even if they had to turn back in the midst of the journey.
Mr. Chefoo was the good fairy that came to the rescue. He seemed to regret Mr. Kit-ze's behavior keenly, and to be deeply sympathetic with the sampan party in its desire so plainly expressed to be off on the journey. He was a big, good-natured fellow, strong and hearty looking, with a clear eye and with much intelligence expressed upon his face. He had too, a pretty fair scope of English, which made his attendance all the more satisfactory and agreeable.
Mr. Kit-ze, he continued to assure them, would return. He felt certain of it. They would leave word for him and proceed to the next town, since this one was so objectionable with its foul smells and its rather rough-looking population. The first step then, was to hire a man to help him pole, as he felt certain he, Mr. Chefoo, could direct the movements of the sampan up to the next village. There were no rapids of any considerable danger in the way.
"All right, Mr. Chefoo," said Mr. Reid. "Go ahead and hire your man, but be sure he is one on whom we can rely."
"I'll have a care to that, honorable teacher," assured Mr. Chefoo.
The first man approached declared that he couldn't go, as his wife needed him to sit and watch her while she washed the clothes. The second one said he must first ask his mother and, as she lived two villages away, they must wait until the following morning ere he could give them his answer. The third wished to know if he would be permitted to take as many as seven suits of clothes with him, as he could do with no less; also if provision would be made for their washing and ironing along the way. On being assured that no such concession could be granted he went away much aggrieved.
Another said he would gladly attend them as their poleman if they would promise not to tie up anywhere along the bank where there were tigers, or even where tigers were known to have been on the surrounding hills. As they could give no such promise with the prospect of fulfilling it, he too had to be dismissed without an engagement. He then tried to drive a sale with them of two tiger bones at three hundred "cash" each, warranted to give strength and courage. As they hadn't the faith he had in the efficacy of the commodity, the purchase was declined. Another hour and more slipped by in this way.
Things were growing lively, if they were somewhat monotonous, for a great crowd was now surging about Mr. Chefoo, Mr. Reid, and Mr. Wilburn. The boatman had them with him for the purpose of consultation. To add to the hubbub a string of oxen and their drivers on their way to the city, the backs of the oxen piled with mountains of brushwood, had drawn near the men, the drivers overcome by curiosity at the sight of the crowd. Between their yells and shouts to the oxen and their noisy salutations passed to those they knew, there was a babel indeed.
In the very midst of these sounds came a sudden cry, sufficiently loud and prolonged to attract the attention of many. While the bargaining with the would-be polemen went on, the young people had gathered within the sitting room of the sampan, that is, all with the exception of Clarence. He had stretched himself along the stern of the boat. His head was lying on his hand upheld by the elbow. Thus it was considerably elevated, and thus he had a fair view of the water all around the sampan.
The Han is often called the River of Golden Sands. It is a clear, bright stream, its bed covered with thick layers of white sand. Along this sand particles of golden-hued gravel sparkle in the sunlight as though they were the pure metal itself. In many places, even of considerable depth, the bottom of the river is plainly seen. Where the sampan lay there was only the depth of about two feet of water. This had for a time been stirred into some degree of murkiness by the feet of those who pressed curiously about the sampan. But as the crowd had now withdrawn to the bank, where Mr. Chefoo bargained with the polemen, the river had cleared.
As Clarence lay along the stern of the boat glancing down into the water, his attention was suddenly attracted by something that rested at the top of a little hillock of sand. First its shape, then its color arrested his gaze. The next moment there came that wild shout from him, a compromise between a station-master's train call and an Indian warwhoop. Then those whose attention was now riveted upon him saw him hastily throw off his coat, his shoes and stockings and, quickly rolling up sleeves and trousers, spring into the water. An instant later he held up something in his hand, his shirt sleeve dripping with the water.
"The redmiriok!" he cried. "See! Mr. Kit-ze must have dropped it as he leaned over packing the things."
Yes, it was the redmiriok.
"Oh, its eyes are shinier than ever!" cried Joyce. "Guess that's cause the water washed 'em. It's the same horrid, ugly thing I've seen Mr. Kit-ze pressing in his hands."