I hastened home, obtained my Smith & Wesson six-shooter, and, after a good tiffin with Governor Hu, rode in a springless cart to Machiapu, entrained, and was speedily at the station at Lukouch’iao.
Upon our alighting from the cars we were met by a sub-official from the camps, and were accompanied by him, and about twenty Kansu soldiers, to the entrance to the railroad bridge, the site of the riot two days before.
Here Hu ordered the bridge watchmen to be brought before him, and he interrogated them as to the occurrences described by Cox and Norregaard. The two watchmen’s stories were the exact counterpart of the two foreigners’; they agreed in every particular, and placed the whole blame on the Kansu soldiers.
I was surprised at the fearless testimony of these two poor watchmen, one of whom was afterward murdered by the soldiers for testifying against them.
Hu now walked to an inn in the village of Lukou, and told the sub-official to order the general and colonels of all the regiments quartered near-by to appear before him at once, as he would hold an investigation by order of the Empress. He and I drank tea until they arrived.
The first, a General Chang, appeared in about fifteen minutes. We knew some one of importance was coming by the hubbub in the courtyard, the murmur of voices, and the sound of horses’ moving feet. Then a soldier appeared in the doorway, and announced:
“General Chang, of the Kansu cavalry, has arrived.”
“Ch’ing,” replied Hu, and immediately there stood before us as ferocious looking a ruffian as the world could well produce. A tall, weather-beaten man, fifty years of age or more, with rather heavy (for a Chinaman) yet black mustaches, and a more than ordinarily prominent nose; dressed in a dark blue gown, satin high-top boots, official hat with premier button and peacock feather, held at right angles from the rear of his button by an expensive piece of jade. His eyes were deep-set and small, and the whole expression of his face was ferocious and cruel.
He only slightly inclined his head to Hu, took no notice of me, and, ignoring Chinese ceremony, proceeded at once to the highest seat in the little room, and seated himself in the intensely stiff attitude of the god of war one usually sees in a Chinese temple. Hu seemed completely taken aback at this insolence, and allowed the ruffian to remain in the seat of honor throughout the interview.
Before Hu had become acquainted, by his polite questions, with the age, rank, and province of his haughty guest, four other military officers of the rank of colonel and lieutenant-colonel had arrived, namely, Chao, Ma, Wang, and Hung.