In the Yellow Sea

by Henry Frith

THEY LAUGHED AT THE STONES I THREW AT THEM

But they were as 'cute as a weasel, they could not be caught asleep; and finally, tired and hungry, I wandered on, cursing the birds, the Japanese, the Chinese, and my ill-luck which had been the cause of my adventures. As evening approached the "beastly" birds disappeared. By that time I was half silly, and felt inclined to do something desperate. Still I tramped on till dusk, when a light in a small house—one of four such—beckoned me to cheer up.

I perceived that these were farms, and the usual crops were in evidence, such as rice, sugarcane (which the coolie is fond of chewing), pulse, potatoes, wheat, tobacco, and some vegetables. The rice crop had been gathered,—the late sowing I mean, for sometimes three crops are reaped, the last reaped in November, when vegetables are planted. Rice wants water, cane does not, and this is, therefore, profitable, as irrigation is dispensed with. Rice is the stable food, and even the landlord is paid in rice, which may amount to as much as three hundred and fifty pounds, or perhaps more, per acre.

Fortunately for me, on this occasion, a woman was washing some article outside the house, and though as a rule the Chinese female is ignored and secluded, the peasant, the labourer-woman, is in evidence. To this peculiar specimen I addressed myself in a language she had never heard, and could not understand. But she could interpret signs and pantomime, while she seemed inclined to assist me. When she disappeared I was left in doubt, but after a while she brought me food in a saucer, the origin of which I was too madly hungry to discriminate. Whether rat, dog, or snake I cared not. I am sure it was horrible at the time, but I managed to eat it, and was not ill, though inclined thereto. She supplemented this mess by a dose of rather bad salt fish and pickled cabbage, with some rice plainly boiled; and this I did enjoy. There was plenty of water; and when I bestowed upon my host the magnificent sum of one penny (English value), she believed me a wandering idol. Her pleasure was marked, and she actually indicated a place where I might rest in quiet under a thick coverlet which she brought me to the shed she pointed out.

Then I was "in clover," and when I had ascertained that I was in no danger I asked for "Kinchow" and its direction. The female drew some lines with her finger on the ground, and pointed in a direction in which I had been advancing. Then shutting me in she left me to sleep, which I did gladly for some hours.

But next morning I felt quite unable to rise, and when yet struggling to get up, the farmer and his wife and son all appeared, and stood staring at me. I begged for mercy, thinking they meant me harm—perhaps the farmer had suspicions; but he evidently had heard of cash from his wife. He was polite and kind, brought me food which I could not eat,—the supper had already upset me,—but consented to leave me quiet to sleep, as I begged them by signs to do. Briefly, I remained there three days, and spent several pennies in cash (about a hundred) in making myself perfectly "at home."

On the fourth day I engaged the lad to be my guide by a promise of cash, and started for Kinchow feeling in good company and in good spirits. For the farmer had been paid, and he and I had managed to make each other understand. He had got the idea into his head that I was a Russian seeking Port Arthur, and agreed to put me on my way. Three whole days had been passed in coming to this understanding by the aid of a friend of the host, a rough map, and of course cash. At length I saw my way to liberty.

Alas! I was checked at the outset. The weather changed, and while I had anticipated snow perhaps, and frost later, the wind brought up big clouds, and a thunderstorm arose with pelting rain. The young farmer declined to advance until the weather moderated, so we waited, and then in the pauses of the tempest retraced our steps to the hospitable farm. There two more days were spent in picking up Chinese and dropping cash. Meantime my spirits fell, and at times I felt seriously depressed. The chances of escape through the Chinese and Japanese lines seemed to me to become less and less, and the situation was the more intolerable because I could not freely express myself, and gain protection or assistance.

During my enforced further sojourn with the farmer's family I endeavoured to induce them to lead me direct to Port Arthur (or, as it is called by Chinese, Lü-shun-Kou; by Japanese, Ryojunkõ). But the guide demurred to this. He evidently was afraid of the invading army, and it became increasingly evident to me that I should have to look after myself if we came within shot of the Japs. With such forebodings I set out again with my fearful guide, and struck the telegraph posts upon the Pulantien (Port Adams) Road.

If the reader will examine a map he will perceive that there are two main roads in the Sheng-King peninsula, both leading to Port Arthur, the western from Fuchow, and farther north still the other along the coast road by Putsewo and Talien Bay. Above the place which the British called Port Adams in 1859, the roads unite. These two tracks, stony and rugged, through and amid hills, wind their way to Kinchow, near which the peninsula becomes very narrow, and, in fact, is only about two miles wide—or less.