CHAPTER XI
CHINESE LANGUAGE—"HELD UP"—BETRAYED!
We started in the gloaming, carrying small packs and some supplies, for we did not know whether the natives would suspect us, or assist us, even if they were not distrustful. Hoko "cheered me up" by relating slowly, for my benefit, the list of likely tortures which the Chinese practised upon the enemy. The list need not be recapitulated in full, but cutting-up (alive), beheading, and hanging, first by the heels, were amongst those most usually inflicted upon the prisoner, and perhaps the most "merciful."
My spirits were not thereby elated, and scarcely had we reached the road when a picket of Japanese soldiers accosted us. They were quickly satisfied by my companion, and laughed at us as we parted with them. This interview was succeeded by others, and in each case we got away safely. At our last halt Hoko consulted his map, and gave it to me to ponder in the lantern-light of the picket guards. Again we resumed our journey, and this party proved to be the last post of the Japs at that time. Thenceforward all was dark and unknown.
When we had proceeded a few miles, hunger assailed us, and after a short time we agreed, chiefly by signs, to rest in the glade into which we had wandered from the road. The Chinese tongue never seemed to me so wanting in expression as then. My command of language is not despicable in English, and on board ship; but in that glade in the society of the Japanese scout I felt kinder dumb! There was no need for silence. The Chinese language embraces about forty thousand strokes or letters (or signs rather) in writing; while only about three hundred and fifty are spoken. Hence the same spoken word represents a number of different—vastly different—things in writing; and the few hundreds of words represent so many more thousands of characters or signs! Even a Chinese may communicate with a friend in another province by writing; but he very likely will not understand his dialect.
The Chinese language, I may state, depends really upon the tones of voice, not upon the actual pronunciation of the words, and these tones are even increased in the Mongolian dialect. In Manchuria, perhaps, the bulk of the population is of Mongolian descent, a superior, a braver, race than the ordinary (I don't say "pure and simple") Chinaman—for "John" is not that. But practice and tone of voice will teach much; and this tone will entirely alter the sense of the speaker if he misapply it. In some languages one may speak by "ear." Ear is of no account in China. There are certain "radical signs" and a number of "primitive" signs; characters are made by combining both, and are written downwards.
As may be anticipated, I had not made much progress in the Chinese language, but I could chatter "pidgin" English, which is so useful in the Treaty ports, and so useless in China proper, which is arrived at by changing every "r" to "l" and adding the "e" doubled when it is single, as in "alle samee," "makee laugh," "alle samee Elopean man," "no wantchee." "Number one" means "proper," and "chop-chop" "quickly," in this language; while "play-pidgin" is merely "talk," and "top-side pidgin" is religion, or religious converse.
One soon becomes conversant with the business talk, for "pidgin" means "business" in the mind of the trader and the coolie (or labourer). But let me resume my narrative.
The night was very chilly, and the early morning misty, as my companion roused me up and told me that we must be going. Let it be remembered that our conversations were only carried on piecemeal, and when I mention them you must understand that signs assisted us greatly. But the man was honest, I believed, and had no thought of any treachery towards me. We conversed in southern dialect a little, and made signs.
We presently reached a river which I learned was called Pilu (or Pihliu), and proceeded to a small village where we got some food, which I did not relish, but had to eat in order to keep up my character. We learned that the invaders were expected, and that it would be better for us to keep away to the north-west, else we might get into trouble. We therefore assented, and passed on for a while, intending to change our route as soon as possible, but fate had ordained otherwise. My companion had intended to proceed in the direction of Putsewo, and then strike westward again, marching by a compass and map which I had secured in my tunic, but when we took the advice of the well-meaning villagers we left our former direction, and when again essaying to recover our route we came to grief. For a long time we wandered amidst the hills and rough country seeking a track, but finding nothing promising, until almost suddenly we descended a hillside and found ourselves near a rather substantial village, from which there was no escape without questioning from the natives.
Hoko quickly gave me to understand that I was his brother, that we were South Chinamen seeking a ship at Port Arthur, and that we had been north and intended to return to Chefoo.[[1]] We had rehearsed this little play before, and my South-China lingo was supposed sufficient to deceive the Mongolians. If necessary, my guide informed me, a little "geomaney," or "wind and weather" fortune-telling, would keep suspicion at bay. So, primed with a few simple maxims, I braced myself for the encounter.
[[1]] Chefoo or Chifu.—H.F.
The natives were decidedly of the race of Didymus. They did not credit half our assurance, and we—at least I—wished we had more of it. Certainly the interpreter remained as cool as possible, and his calm method of lying would have discredited Ananias of old, and deceived St. Peter himself. I give my impressions of the examination to which the interpreter was subjected.
"Your name?" demanded the chief of the villagers.
"Ho-wuh-Chang."
"Where do you come from?"
"Panchwang, in the province of Fuhkien."
"Where have you been?"
"At Takushan."
"Whither bound?
"Chefoo and Shanghai."
"Who is this man?"
Here the interpreter made a pretence of great reverence and respect, as he answered—
"My all-enlightened brother of Tau."
This reply drew attention to me, for Tau is the "priest" of Chinese theosophy or magic art, and is accordingly respected, for every Chinaman fears Tau, the more so as he has no idea what it is, any more than its votary. Tau is "The Right": what one cannot see, nor hear, nor seize. It is a kind of "Fêng Shui" in its essence, and Tau is the true Reason for all things in the universe, the Great Primitive Cause in the world, not a religious dogma.
The Tauist, then, becomes by inheritance, or profession, a kind of priest, a miracle-man, supposed to be versed in ancient lore, able to tell fortunes, and decide social questions with authority as regards the work and operations of nature, and "Fêng Shui"—the effects of wind and weather. Superstitious as the Chinese are, these attributes confer great authority upon the adherents and practice of the Tauists. Hence, if I was not found out, my companion concluded we should escape.
Unfortunately one of the villagers perceived the accent of the Japanese interpreter, and declared him a Corean! This at once gave cause of mischief, and my companion was searched, his small knapsack, or pack, was turned upside down, and all the while a rush of epithets assailed us both. I carried no pack, but had the compass and map and revolver in my possession. If the suspicious and antagonistic villagers had found those articles our fates would have been sealed, and a cruel death must have ensued.
While the natives were thus examining the Japanese, I was not molested, though several glances were directed at me, and some remarks made—which I did not notice. All the time I was endeavouring to discover some means whereby I could satisfy, if I could not alarm, the villagers, but for a while no idea appeared to my mind feasible. The pack had been examined, the Jap had been interrogated freely and rudely, and now my turn was approaching. Fortunately the villagers had been informed that I did not wish to be disturbed, but they had evident intentions of finding things out for themselves!
Luckily, I possessed one of the attributes of the Tauists, perhaps quite as sincere as theirs—the knowledge and anticipation of the ordinary phases of weather. The morning had been misty and almost frosty, and a change of wind, I noticed, had been causing a fog to arise. Hitherto it had been almost imperceptible even in the hills, the vale was clear; but while looking about me I noticed the vapour gradually creeping down the slopes behind the men who barred our way. My plan was quickly matured: the mist would serve us well. I remembered Fennimore Cooper, and the eclipse as adapted by Haggard in Solomon's Mines, and hoped for success.
I calmly approached my companion, and managed to give him a hint, in French, that he was to make me out a necromancer; thus I intended to play upon the fears of the natives, and he must back me up. Meantime, if we were attacked, I would shoot as many of the assailants as I could. My suggestions and gestures were understood, and when the natives advanced to search me, demanding some explanation, the interpreter motioned them to stand aside. He told them to be careful. I was a necromancer—one who had the weather "in the palm of his hand"; was related to the genii, and if I (and he) were interrupted further, and our peaceful progress barred, the immediate consequences would be serious, and the future disastrous for the village. Their graves would suffer, their families die; and I could change them themselves into stocks and stones, and cause them to disappear from the village. In fact, I could transform them! When once the Japanese Ananias had fully embarked upon the marvellous, his imagination carried him away more completely than ever the villagers could be. If we were properly treated, he added, money might be showered upon them!
While the interpreter was thus hoodwinking the villagers, one or two of whom seemed sceptical, I bethought me of a simple trick which I had practised in "parlour magic" at home. If the fog did not serve my purpose I could convince the natives, so I beckoned to the chief sceptic, and taking a piece of money from my wallet, which contained little of value, I placed the coin in his palm, pressing it firmly into the hand and closing the fingers. He looked pleased, and retired, keeping his fingers closely shut as directed; my "assistant" hinted if the man were unfriendly his coin would disappear, at which the villager called up a smile or grimace as a protest, evidently hypocritical, and his associates also watched him.
Seeing the gift, they came forward with much curiosity, and as I examined their features I found that some of the men were fairly honest, and a "tip" would not be thrown away upon them, though it must be merely a token, not a gift. So while bestowing these "tips" I kept my eyes upon the weather, and by the time I had given all the men small presents, as they fancied, but only a few of the most influential actually received money, the mist came rolling down thickly. To escape was now my intention.
It was rather amusing to see the party of men standing in a row helplessly with their right hands guarding the magic gifts thus bestowed by the "Tauist." The interpreter had already grasped the situation, and at my request desired the natives to turn at the necromancer's order, step ten paces, and open their hands. The order was impressed upon them by myself. I waved my hands and made as if impelling some invisible force to urge these simple superstitious men. They moved in obedience to my order, slowly, and when I had counted six, pausing between each number, the interpreter and I rushed away through the glade, and into the mist, which perhaps the Chinese may have fancied I had induced. The last I saw of my dangerous adherents was a line of stupid-looking men each gazing at his closed hand, and speculating upon what it contained for him.
I am afraid most of them were disappointed when they had released their grasps of the magic gifts, and they found money in only four palms, and those of the most influential of the party.
Meantime my faithful companion and I hurried away into the mist, which effectually shrouded us, and pursued a devious course, now and then halting to listen for the pursuers, for we did not doubt they would pursue us. But we heard nothing to alarm us, and made good progress when the mist lifted later.
We congratulated ourselves greatly upon this ruse, but it would not serve us again. I managed to explain the trick to the Japanese, who, when I had finished the laboured sentences, told me of some far more intelligent tricks which he had seen performed, and tried to explain them to me. But I was a very simple amateur in these matters, and could do little beyond the easy legerdemain of the drawing-room at home.
"It was a dangerous game," said Hoko, "and if any of the men meet us again they will kill us."
"But they won't catch us," I replied, with all the fine assurance of a sharp "hare" in the schoolboy paper chase. "We can turn, and return on our path. How do you propose to travel?"
"I am considering," he replied. "Please lend me the map and compass. It was well they did not search you, because you would have been killed. The map would have betrayed us."
"You can keep it," I said with great magnanimity. "By all means keep it. I can steer by the points of the heavens, and by my watch, and the sun and stars."
The Japanese nodded, and concealed the articles in his dress.
"The pistol?" he asked presently. "Is it ready?"
"Yes. I think I will keep it, thank you. Shall we continue our journey?"
He nodded again, and we proceeded cautiously for several miles, bending and twisting the route until we were both certain that we must have put miles between us and the enraged natives, whom I had some reason to fear notwithstanding my assumed influential character. The interpreter proposed a halt, and being hungry I gladly acceded; then, having eaten a few cakes and refreshed ourselves, we rested. I slept soundly for some time. When I awoke it was dusk, and I was alone! Alone! deserted! betrayed!