Seeing a drawling American on this ship, a Britisher sized him up as one who might be twitted. "What is your business, may I ask?" began the Britisher. "Oh! I generally follow mining," drawled the "Yank." "Is there much money in it?" asked the Britisher. "Oh, the usual thing in mining—chicken one day and feathers the next," sluggishly answered the American. "By the way," said the "Yank," perking up, "may I ask what your business is?" "Oh, I'm a missionary," promptly answered John Bull's subject. "Is there much money in it?" whipped back the "Yankee."
For two days out from Singapore the German ship rode the seas as smoothly as a motor-car running over a well-tarred road. Then the weather grew stormy and the ocean rough. We had entered the China Sea. The time of year was the day before Christmas, and a Christmas tree had been erected in the dining saloon, ornamented with bright-colored tinsel balls, chocolate bars wrapped in tinfoil, colored candy hatchets, lions, dogs and dolls; sprigs of holly with red berries, rosy red apples hanging from bending boughs, candy wrapped in vari-colored and fringed papers, wax candles hanging from limbs, with medicated cotton and white powder scattered over the pine tree to indicate snow. The sea had become rougher, and the steady ship of a few days earlier was now rolling and pitching her heavy tonnage against powerful waves, the propellers often revolving in unwatered space. Few had interest in the tree this Christmas Eve, as most of the passengers had become seasick. As a result, and the storm not having abated, only half a dozen of the big list of passengers ate turkey with cranberry sauce, mince pie, raisins, and nuts that Christmas Day while sailing over the China Sea. The day following the sea became quieter, and an island came in view, then more islands. The sea having calmed, passengers became numerous on deck. Buildings, on the side of a high, green island, were now seen—we had reached the island of Hongkong, China. As the vessel neared the harbor, the city, resting comfortably at the base of the mountain and stretching along the shore, was clearly outlined. Being our initial visit to a Chinese city, Johnson's lines came to mind—
"Let observation, with extensive view,
Survey mankind from China to Peru."
Ho! There was an American flag flying from the mast of a ship at anchor in the harbor—the fourth time the United States emblem was seen waving from a ship's mast during a journey of over 60,000 miles, most of which was by water. At Dunedin, N. Z., the first flag was seen flying from a dilapidated schooner, and the other two from small vessels at Apia, Samoa.
Hongkong is a horseless and oxless town. This island city is far up in the list of ports—perhaps fourth—and it is difficult to believe that the cargo of great vessels could be moved almost entirely by human aid alone; yet such is the fact. There would seem to be no obstacles that the Chinaman cannot surmount. On a split bamboo pole Chinamen have been known to carry 500 pounds' weight. Generally, what one man cannot carry two will; but any weight too much for two would be moved along by four Chinese, two at each end of a bamboo pole. Heavy loads that cannot be moved by poles are placed on to a two-wheeled hand truck. India and Ceylon looked unprogressive with the two-wheeled ox carts, but when one reaches an important seaport city and finds neither mules, horses, oxen or donkeys to move heavy traffic, that feature must be classed among the world's oddities.
The mountain behind the city rises to a height of nearly 2,000 feet. Buildings have been built on the mountainside, and on the summit stand the barracks, or fort, and the Governor-General's residence. Some of these buildings, used for hospitals and other purposes, are big; yet every brick, stone, pound of mortar, furniture—everything of which the buildings and fort are made—had been carried up the roads and footpaths cut in the sides of the mountain on the backs, shoulders, or heads of Chinese, mostly women. A cable railway runs from nearly the bottom to the top, but the company that built the line is forbidden to carry other than passengers up the slope. That restriction was placed on the company in order that the Chinese would not be deprived of work necessitated by the demand for supplies and provisions by those living in that section of Hongkong Island.
The city appears on maps as the City of Victoria, but Hongkong is the only name one hears. The island comprises an area of 29 square miles, and was ceded to Great Britain in 1843. But England has acquired an additional area of 380 square miles on the mainland opposite. The city has a population of 300,000, but half a million inhabitants reside on the island. Of this number 6,000 are Europeans, the remainder largely Chinese. The water channel separating Hongkong from the mainland is a mile wide, and opposite the city is Kowloon, where large vessels put in at wharves and from which place the railway starts for Canton.
Hongkong is reputed to have the most picturesque setting of any city in the world, and the view seemed better than that offered by Capetown, South Africa. A perpetually green mountain rises steeply nearly 2,000 feet from the seashore, and the splendid roads and walks cut in the sides might, seen from a distance, resemble the threads on a mammoth screw. White brick buildings, covered with red-tile roofing, rise from the verdured sides at frequent intervals. This attractiveness continues to the summit, which is capped, as it were, with the official residence and forts. From the summit the view seems superior to that from below, as the ornamentation of the steep slope, both by nature and man, with the city at the base, ships lolling at anchor in the harbor and pretty islands dotting the haven from three sides, all unite in maintaining the reputation the island bears.
A boycott was issued by the Chinese against the street railway system of Hongkong. The trouble came about through the railway company refusing to accept Canton money for fares on the cars, and the boycott resulted. The cars ran back and forth without Chinese passengers during the period of the strike.