As soon as the travellers had landed, they set out on the road to Kwang-ngan, eating the second duck as they went. They understood perfectly that they were about to begin the most dangerous part of their journey.
'Don't appear surprised at anything you see or hear,' was Ping Wang's sensible advice, 'and remember that an exclamation from either of you would probably lead to its being discovered that you are not Chinamen.'
Charlie and Fred promised not to forget what he had said.
When they had trudged about three-quarters of a mile they joined the main road to the village for which they were bound, and from now onwards at every few yards they met a Chinaman.
The Pages thoroughly enjoyed the novel scene. Chinamen of almost all stations of life seemed to be using that road. One moment they would see a pompous-looking man riding on a sturdy, shaggy pony; the next, a dandy being carried in a palanquin. Coolies with a long pole across one shoulder, and a basket or bundle hanging from each end, hurried past them at a shuffling kind of run. Heavier loads were carried on poles, which rested on the shoulders of two coolies. Occasionally some pedestrian would make a friendly remark to the three travellers, and when that happened Ping Wang replied in the most genial manner.
When they had been on the tramp for about an hour and a half, Ping Wang looked round, and seeing that no Chinamen were near, said, as he pointed to a square-looking object in the distance, 'That is Su-ching, our first halting-place.'
After this the three friends were compelled to remain silent, so constantly were they meeting people, and the nearer they drew to the town the more numerous did the people become. The town was enclosed by a brick wall, and from a distance looked able to withstand the attack of any enemy; but a closer inspection showed that the defences were practically worthless, and that the town could be quickly destroyed by modern guns. In some places the walls had crumbled away. Some of the guns were so old and rusty that to have fired them would have done more harm to the gunners than to the enemy. But most of the guns were dummies—wooden things, mounted to give a formidable look to the place.
'Will there be any difficulty about getting into the town?' Fred whispered.
'Oh, no!' Ping Wang replied. 'We will enter by that gate facing us. There will probably be some soldiers there, but they won't interfere with us.'
Ten minutes later Ping Wang and the Pages arrived at the open gate, near which were some half-dozen dirty rascals playing some Chinese game. They were soldiers, but so interested were they in their game that they did not even glance at the people passing in and out. Ping Wang told Fred and Charlie, later, that these imitations of soldiers usually passed their time in that fashion.