These duck keepers are a class peculiar to the Chinese. Their boats are large and roomy, with a broad board extending around the sides for a promenade for the birds, which are as dear to their masters as the pig is to the Irishman. The birds have the largest apartment of the floating house. In the morning the ducks waddle round the promenade at their pleasure, except after the rice harvest has been gathered, when the boards are inclined, and they walk up and down the slope at their will; and so well are they brought up, that, if hundreds of them are out upon a cruise, they will instantly return to the boat at their master's whistle.
Once in the boat, Nicholas had no wish to leave it, till he had crossed the river. This he had some difficulty in persuading the man to do, for it was three leagues broad at that part. The sight, however of a piece of silver strengthened his courage, and, fixing up his little sail of bamboo matting, he made the attempt, when, after some hours, they reached the opposite banks, dismissed the boatman, and felt as pleased as a fugitive between whom and the bloodhounds a vast water track has passed.
Having crossed the great river, they had no fear of further pursuit, so, hiring two sedan chairs, they reached Kin-Chow the same evening. The next morning they again took passage upon the Royal Canal, down which they traveled for some days, till they arrived at Yang-Chow, a city celebrated for its manufacture of salt and singing girls. These poor creatures are matter of commerce with the merchants, who have taught them to sing, paint, and play on musical instruments, when they can sell them for very large sums of money to the great lords, who purchase them for the recreation of their households.
Resting at this city for one day, they again started upon their journey, and in a few weeks arrived at Tien-sin, from which place they proceeded by a small canal to Tsing-Chow, the nearest place to Pekin, where they landed.
"Thanks be to Tien, my master, we shall soon be in the venerable city itself."
"Thou art fond of Pekin, Chow?"
"The tombs of thy servant's ancestors are near its walls," said Chow, gloomily.
"Why, in the name of the social relations, art thou as dull as a tailless peacock?" said Nicholas.
"It is filial pity, for last night I dreamt that I should discover in Pekin the dog who slew my venerable parent, and should I die without searching him out, the tombs of my ancestors would refuse to hold me."
"These are wild words and foolish fancies, Chow," said Nicholas; adding, as he beheld the boy stare in the faces of the passers-by, "Moreover, if thy manners are so barbarous, thou wilt surely get into trouble;" and, believing that occupation or a mission would drive these thoughts from Chow's mind, he stopped at the house of a dealer in horses, and, having bargained for two, said, "Thou art well informed of the ins and outs of Pekin, Chow?"