"Cannot you get me away then?" I asked in "pidgin" of the coolie.
"No lun away. Too much, man—no go long; no tink! Get dless, chop-chop!"
This was unfortunate; escape seemed hopeless. So far as I understood the coolie, he found that we could not escape from the villagers at once. He was quite willing to assist me, knowing that I would pay him, but the farmers were very suspicious. Had they found out the little pocket in my belt in which I carried the Japanese permit, and my small store of coin, they would have killed me. Cowardice is usually cruel.
My captors quickly gave me to understand that they meant business. They produced a bamboo pole, which they passed behind me, and under my arms, to which they tied it. They left my legs free, because they intended me to walk, as I understood, to Putsewo, where the "pidgin" man said the Chinese troops were quartered. I hoped the Japanese might come up there meanwhile; but then, between Jack and Jap, I would be fixed between two stools, and either might cut the support.
As soon as I had been fully dressed, and the pole fixed, I was put in the care of two of the men, with the coolie acting as the go-between. The last mentioned told me my destination; had he known that my captain suspected me of being a spy, I knew my fate would have been sealed. I begged him to release me.
"No can do!" was the reply. "Too mutchee fear! Maskee!" (by and by).
I was obliged to be content with this, and when the men had given me a meal of rice and water we set out. The coolie held the end of the rope in his hand, and the farmers walked close behind me, one on each side, so that at the first attempt to escape they could intercept me.
The rope was so twisted and so taut around my hands that I implored the coolie to loosen it. After consultation, he complied, saying, "Maskee, maskee," and evidently willing to assist me, but hinting at cash. Making an excuse to halt, I managed to hand him a little silver, as a guarantee, and to my delight found my bonds slackened. Still the other two men kept watch, and took turns at driving me like a pig to market.
The day was already waning, and I began to speculate upon release during the evening. There had been several delays since breakfast, and again my escort halted to advise themselves of the route, the cross-country direction, before night fell. As we were all standing, three of the party chattering like magpies, in the dusk, I felt the rope twitch and then slacken. My senses were at once awakened. The Port Arthur servant was keeping me alert, and I saw he was pointing to some huts below us. Another village! I must act!
I looked around me in all directions, and made up my mind to rush the hill beside me and hide amid the boulders. I had no thought beyond escape, and when some minutes later "my coolie" dropped the end of the rope suddenly, exclaiming, "Kinchow!" I knew my chance had come, and the direction. The yellow fellow gesticulated in the face of my captors. I was free!