"There are three things mainly to strive for: filial piety, that is the most important; integrity; and humanity. Let us take the last first. Humanity is among the greatest of the virtues. If a man wish to attain the excellence of superior beings, let him cultivate the attributes of humanity. They include benevolence, charity, clemency——"
At this moment a voice was heard at the entrance: "The august decree is fulfilled."
The curtain was parted, and there entered the chief's second in command, a big ferocious-looking fellow, holding up to Jack's horrified gaze two ghastly blood-stained human heads. Ah Lum looked at the hideous objects with unmoved countenance.
"That is well," he said. "Affix them on poles, and set them in the centre of the camp, with this scroll in large characters from the poet P'an T'ang-she'n:
"'Virtue is best; hold Knavery in dread;
A Thief gains nothing if he lose his Head.'"
The incident interrupted the chief's homily before his first heading was developed. The flow of his ideas seemed broken, for on the departure of his lieutenant he turned the conversation into another channel.
Jack afterwards learnt that the unfortunate wretches decapitated were two members of the band who had stolen fowls from a farmer. Since robbery was a principal reason of the Chunchuses' existence, Jack was amazed at such an offence meeting with so terrible a punishment, until he heard that the farmer thus robbed had purchased immunity from Ah Lum by a gift of fodder, and the chief was inexorably merciless to any who were guilty, or who made him appear guilty, of a breach of faith. Jack was now convinced, if he had not been before, that Ah Lum was no mere spectacled pedant.
One fine morning Jack set off on his long journey to Moukden. His appearance was indistinguishable from that of a well-to-do Manchu. Every detail of his costume was correct, from the round black hat and glossy pigtail to the cloth boots with white felt soles. He was mounted on a good pony, and accompanied by a trusty Chunchuse. Ah Fu shed tears at parting; Ah Lum and Wang Shih were undisguisedly sorry to lose him, and the former indeed declared his willingness at any time to welcome him back, and even to give him a command in his band. Jack thanked him warmly, pressed his closed fists to his breast in Chinese salutation, and rode away.
It was nearly a thousand li—more than 300 miles—from the camp to Moukden; not as the crow flies, for in that country of forest, mountain, and river a straight course is impossible. The traveller has to proceed by pack roads, to ford streams deep and swift, to ascend and descend rugged forest-clad slopes; and if his journey is timed in the rainy season he suffers inconveniences and perils without number. It was fortunate for Jack that the rains were not so persistent and continuous this year as is sometimes the case. He was delayed at one or two stages of his journey by thunder-storms and swollen rivers; but, thanks to his guide, who knew the country perfectly, he was able to cover an average of about twenty-five miles a day. At another time nothing would have delighted him more than to take things easily, for he passed through some of the most magnificent scenery in the world, a country teeming with game of all kinds, and dotted at out-of-the-way spots with interesting monuments. But, determined to reach Moukden as soon as possible, he was not to be allured by the cry of pheasants or the trails of the tiger and the deer.
Furthermore, unequipped for such travelling as attracts the globe-trotter, he found the inevitable discomforts of the route somewhat trying to his patience. On fine days he was plagued for hours at a time by myriads of midges, which swarmed about his head, biting with fiendish ferocity. But his own sufferings were slight in comparison with his pony's. From sunrise to sunset huge gadflies infested the poor animal, settling upon its tough hide, and piercing it till the beast was streaming with blood. Jack spent the greater part of the day in smashing the terrible insects with his whip, slaying hundreds and still leaving hundreds unslain. The nights also were times of torment. Putting up at some inn, he had to pass the hours in a crowded room, sealed up to prevent the ingress of midges, filled with smoke and the sickening odours of stewed pork and rancid vegetables. He slept on the k'ang, sometimes wedged in among a crowd of natives by no means too clean, never knowing but that he might have the dangerous company of an adder before the morning. He had to put up with such food as the inn afforded, mostly Chinese pork and salted eggs, with an occasional bonne bouche in the way of a trout when there happened to be Korean fishermen in the neighbourhood. But night by night he rejoiced in the completion of another good stage of his journey; and, thanks to his prudence and the clever management of his guide, he aroused no suspicions, and was accepted as a native, morose and uncompanionable indeed, but excused as being a wanderer from a distant province.