"Yes, little father," replied the sergeant, after questioning the guide.
"H'm! It seems very populous. Where do they stow all the people? And what is the noise about?"
The street was crowded with Chinese men, women, and children, making a terrible din with gongs, drums, and crackers. The guide explained that a great number of people had come into the village to keep the annual Dragon-boat Festival; if the Russians had arrived a little earlier they would have seen the river covered with long, narrow, gaily-painted boats paddled by crews of twenty in fantastic costumes, the banks thronged with onlookers.
"A pity we missed it, Borisoff," said the captain. "However, I'm glad we have arrived safely at last."
If Captain Kargopol had known a little more about Chinese customs, he would certainly have asked why in this village the Festival—a summer festival held on the fifth day of the fifth moon—was being celebrated four months after the proper time. Moreover, it is only celebrated where the rivers are broad; on a hill stream the procession of boats must be a mere travesty. But the captain could hardly be expected to know that.
The captain rode up to the only inn, where the one habitable room was crammed with Chinamen. After a short colloquy with the innkeeper these natives were unceremoniously bundled out into the courtyard; the captain had declared his intention of occupying the room with Lieutenant Borisoff for the night. He then sent his sergeant to find quarters for the troopers in the village. The man reported that every house was full up.
"Then we must empty them," said the captain, who was tired and grumpy. "Make the Chinese turn out. The men have more need of rest than they."
This was unanswerable, if illogical. The sergeant went to do his bidding, and soon the street was noisier than ever, the dispossessed Chinamen in scattered knots cackling away in their high-pitched voices, some of them weeping, and crowding to suffocation the few houses that were not required by these masterful foreign devils.
With military punctiliousness Captain Kargopol set a strong guard at each end of the village, arranged for the single street to be patrolled, and the inn to be watched by a sentry; then threw himself on the k'ang with a weary sigh, and prepared to eat, if not digest, the meal which the innkeeper soon had ready for his guests. It was quite clear that, though the Chinamen had all been turned out, some had ventured to creep back into the passage and a sort of shanty adjoining the room. The innkeeper kow-towed and apologized; he hoped the honourable officer would not object to the men occupying this shelter for the night; they had paid their scot in advance, and if he did not give them house-room he would have to refund the money and pay compensation in addition.
"Poor wretches!" said the captain to Borisoff. "We're pretty hard on them at the best. They won't interfere with us, I suppose, unless they snore; and even then, I fancy I'm so dead beat I could sleep through anything."