How the Chinese marvelled! How they touched and examined everything! How they laughed and chattered!
Only those who know the Chinese and their childlike disposition can gauge the amusing situation in which I found myself.
I sat in my pilot’s seat, over the tin box containing the secret papers, with a Mauser-pistol close to my hand, surrounded by a horde of Nature’s children, whom it was impossible to get rid of, though I repeatedly made the attempt. The creatures merely grinned joyously and made fun of me.
I was at last freed from this predicament by a “Good morning, sir,” boomed into my ear. A gentleman, who introduced himself as Dr. Morgan of the American Mission, stood before me. We greeted each other warmly, and I informed Dr. Morgan of what had happened, and asked him to use his knowledge of the Chinese language, which he spoke fluently, to help me. I soon saw that I was in good hands.
My huge Chinese passport, which I had brought with me from Kiao-Chow, was immediately sent to the Mandarin; an hour later a detachment of forty soldiers arrived from the barracks situated a short distance off, to keep guard over my machine.
I gladly accepted Dr. Morgan’s invitation to breakfast, and, laden with all the movable objects in my aeroplane, I set off with him to the Mission.
I was welcomed most charmingly, and made the acquaintance of Mrs. Morgan, also of Mrs. Rice, the wife of the American missionary, and of a Mr. G., who all took the warmest interest in me.
I had just sat down to breakfast when a Chinese officer appeared, with the announcement that a guard of honour, consisting of a company of soldiers, had been placed before the house, and that he was under orders from his Mandarin to ascertain my wishes, and how I was. The Mandarin himself, however, would call on me in half an hour.
I was delighted at so much courtesy.