In the Yellow Sea

by Henry Frith

"No," he replied, smiling broadly, "Melican-man is an American in the pidgin. Melican."

"Oh, I thought you said pelican first, not pigeon." He smiled.

"I was chattering coolie-pidgin. 'Can do' means 'can,' simply. I implied that I would attend you, that's all. Please be careful."

"Of you, or of myself?" I asked, smiling in return. "All right, let us go to the hotel. You can remain there a while, then we will take a stroll, and perhaps by the time we have returned we may find your ship in the stream. I am also expecting a vessel."

"Which vessel? British?"

"Yes, British built,—a steamer, Fêng Shui. Heard of it?"

"Not a steamer. Fêng Shui is Chinese—superstition. The men are leaving us, see! But they will return. Shall we move?"

We rose, and looked round us. I felt rather nervous. Suddenly my young Japanese cried—

"There she is! Kyodo Maya. My ship for Japan."

"A merchant steamer!" I exclaimed. "Not a warship."