The Hired Man
Gratitude—On Humanity—A Broken Thread—The Hill Country—Nearing Moukden—The Compradore—News at Last—Sowinski's Address—Burnt Offerings—A Little Black Box—Toitshe!—Pidgin—Excellence—Herr Schwab—Photographabbaratus
After the rescue of Ah Fu, Jack stood in a new relationship to Ah Lum. The boy was the apple of the chief's eye; nothing was too good for his deliverer. When the party reached camp after the memorable adventure, Ah Lum paraded his whole band, and, his voice broken by unwonted emotion, proclaimed the Englishman his friend. In all such moments of ceremony the literary man, the university graduate, appeared through the brigand chief. After reciting the heroic deed in the flowery language a scholarly Chinaman always has at command, he continued:
"Forgetfulness of a favour received is a sure sign of a bad heart. Let me speak in a similitude. A man is on a long journey; his money is all spent; he is destitute, far from home, without friends, and perishing from want. To him comes a stranger whose goodness of heart leads him to present the wanderer with a few hundred cash, thereby preserving his life. Should he afterwards see this man, his benefactor, ought he not to make some expression of gratitude? It is a common saying, if we receive from others a favour like a drop of water, the return should be as an overflowing fountain. How much more when a man snatches from death a male child! Does not the Sage say: 'The three greatest misfortunes in life are: in youth to bury one's father; at the middle age to lose one's wife; and, being old, to have no son'? Heaven has already afflicted me with the first and the second of these tribulations; the honourable foreigner by his magnanimous courage has spared me the last. It is a true saying, 'The brave act like tigers, not like mice'. Some of you, to the shame of your ancestors, acted like mice; the Ingoua leapt forth like a tiger and saved my pearl from the snout. He is my friend; whosoever does him a service does a greater service to me. As the Poet says:
"'The Spring that feeds the Mountain Rill
Helps the great River to grow greater still'."
Making allowances for the chief's surcharged emotion, Jack felt that there could be no longer any obstacle to his departure. Ah Lum, indeed, was torn between two impulses. He wished to keep by his side the youth who had shown that he could not only teach English poetry, but display courage and readiness in a moment of danger. He wished also to show his gratitude practically, and knew that he could do so in no more acceptable way than by furthering Jack's search for his father. After a night of indecision his generosity prevailed; he called Jack into his tent, and promised, if he still wished to go, to do all that he could to help him. But he pointed out that it would be very dangerous for him to venture into Moukden. There were both the Chinese and the Russians to reckon with. As for the former, he could furnish Jack with a pass which would probably secure him from molestation; but if it were found upon him by the Russians, it would in itself be sufficient to hang him. Jack, however, felt that there was little chance of tracing his father except by beginning at Moukden and working along the railway, and he once more expressed his unalterable determination to face whatever risks this course might involve.
Ah Lum then settled down to a serious discussion of ways and means. He agreed that Jack's best plan would be to try his luck again as a Chinaman; but not this time as a Cantonese; there were too many Cantonese about. It would be better to pass as a native of one of the interior provinces, such as Sz-chuen. The dialect was not likely to be known to anyone in Moukden, so that the matter of speech would not be a difficulty. He might be supposed to have come down the Yang-tse-kiang on river boats, and to have drifted to Manchuria with an Ingoua; the Ingoua, as every Chinaman knew, were great travellers; this would explain his knowledge of pidgin English.
The chief spoke with great simplicity and earnestness; evidently he was sincerely anxious on Jack's behalf. It was only at the end of the conversation that he reverted to his academic manner.
"Prudence," he reminded Jack, "is what is most necessary to be cultivated by the young. Your path will be beset with perils; a chance word may be your undoing. When you converse in the road, remember there are men in the grass. For myself, I am old enough to be your father; this and my affection must be my excuse for offering words of advice. What says the proverb? 'In a melon-patch, do not stoop down to arrange your shoes; under a plum-tree, do not lift your hand to adjust your cap.'"
Jack knew from experience that, being fairly mounted on his hobby, the chief could not easily be stopped, and settled himself to listen in patience.