Captain Frankland thought the same, and making sail we stood towards her. By that time she was evidently settling down. The ship was hove-to, the boats were lowered, and, in spite of a good deal of sea which then was on, we ran alongside. A number of strange-looking figures in coloured silks and cottons, dressed more like women than men, crowded the side. Some leaped into the water in their fright; others we received into the boats, and conveyed them to the ship. Two trips had been made, when Mr Pincott, who was in the boat with me, said he did not think she would float till we came back. At that moment a person appeared at the stern of the vessel handsomely dressed. He was a fine-looking old gentleman. He must have seen his danger, and he seemed to be bidding his countrymen farewell. I could not bear the thought of leaving him; so I begged Mr Pincott to pull back, and signing him to descend by one of the rope-ladders hanging over the stern, we received him safely into the boat. Scarcely had we done so, when the junk gave a heavy lurch. “There she goes, poor thing!” exclaimed Pincott. “Well, she didn’t look as if she was made to swim. But pull away, my lads—pull away. We may be back in time to pick up some of the poor fellows.” It was heartrending to see the poor wretches struggling in the water, and holding out their hands imploringly to us, and yet not be able to help them. Many very soon sunk; others got hold of gratings and bits of wreck, and endeavoured to keep themselves afloat, but some of those monsters of the deep—the sharks—got in among them, and very soon committed horrible havoc among the survivors. The moment we were able to get the people we had in the boat up the ship’s side we returned to the scene of the catastrophe. We pulled about as rapidly as we could, hauling in all we could get hold of still swimming about, but some were drawn down even before our very eyes, and altogether a good many must have been lost.
The old gentleman I had been the means of saving proved to be the chief person on board. We made out that the junk was from Loo-Choo, but that he himself belonged to some town in Japan. This we discovered by showing him a map, and from the very significant signs he made. While we were making all sorts of pantomimic gestures, Mr Renshaw suggested that a lad we had on board, supposed to be a Chinese, might perhaps be able to talk with him. Chin Chi had been picked up from a wreck at sea on a former voyage of the Triton, and had now made some progress in his knowledge of English. Chin Chi was brought aft with some reluctance. What, however, was our astonishment to see the old gentleman gaze at him earnestly for some minutes; they exchanged a few words; then they proved that Japanese nature was very like English nature, for, rushing forward, they threw themselves into each other’s arms—the father had found a long-lost son!
The son had been seized, like many of his countrymen, with a desire to see the civilised world, of which, in spite of the exclusive system of his government, he had heard, and had stolen off, and got on board a ship which was afterwards wrecked, he being the only survivor. Poor fellow, he had seen but a very rugged part of the world during his visit to England, in the Liverpool docks and similar localities. He told his father, however, how well he had been treated on board the Triton; and the old gentleman, on hearing this, endeavoured to express his gratitude by every means in his power.
Two days after this we found ourselves anchored off the harbour of Napha, in Great Loo-Choo. In a short time a boat came off from the shore bearing two venerable old gentlemen with long beards and flowing robes of blue and yellow, gathered in at the waist with sashes, and almost hiding their white sandalled feet. On their heads they wore yellow caps, something like the Turkish fez in shape, and fastened under their chins with strings, like a baby’s nightcap. Bowing with their noses to the planks as they reached the deck, they presented red visiting cards, three feet in length, and inquired what circumstance had brought the ship to their island. Great was their astonishment when our old friend Hatchie Katsie presented himself, and said that we had come to land him and his son, who had been shipwrecked. He had come to give notice of the loss of the junk, but that he purposed proceeding on in the ship to Japan.
His first care was to send on shore for proper clothes for Chin Chi, who looked a very different person when dressed in bright-coloured robes and a gay cap. He had got a similar dress for Jerry and me. He told Captain Frankland that he could not venture to invite him on shore, but that, as we were mere boys, he might take us under his escort.
Highly delighted, we accordingly pulled on shore. We found conveyances waiting for us, kagos they were called. They were the funniest little machines I ever saw—a sort of litter; suppose a box open in front and the sides, with a low seat inside, and the lid shut down. Even Jerry and I, though not very big, had great difficulty in coiling ourselves away in ours; and how our portly old friend contrived it, was indeed a puzzle. We had to sit cross-legged, with our arms folded and our backs bent double, and were borne jogging along by two native porters, our heads every now and then bumping up against the roof, till we couldn’t help laughing and shouting out to each other to ascertain if our skulls were cracked. I suppose the natives have a mode of glueing themselves down to the seats.
We passed over several well-made bridges, and along a paved causeway, having on either side a succession of beautiful gardens and fertile rice-fields, while before us rose a hill covered with trees, out of which peeped a number of very pretty-looking villas. When we reached the top of the hill we had a fine view over a large portion of the island—several towns and numerous villages were seen, with country-houses and farms scattered about. Altogether, we formed a very favourable opinion of the island and the advanced state of civilisation among the people of Loo-Choo.
The house to which our friend took us was built of wood, and covered with earthen tiles. It had bamboo verandas, and a court-yard in front surrounded by a wall of coral. The interior was plain and neat,—the rafters appearing overhead were painted red, and the floor was covered with matting. The owner of the house, an old gentleman very like Hatchie Katsie, received us very courteously, and after we had sat some time, ordered food to be brought in. Some long-robed attendants prepared a table in the chief hall, on which they placed a number of dishes, containing red slices of eggs and cucumber, boiled fish and mustard, fried beef, bits of hog’s liver, and a variety of other similar dainties, at which we picked away without much consideration, but which might have been bits of dogs, cats, or rats, for aught I knew to the contrary. The people of Loo-Choo must be very abstemious if we judge from the size of their drinking cups—no larger than thimbles! The liquor they drank, called sakee, is distilled from rice.
We only spent two days on shore, so that I cannot pretend to know much of the country. From its elevation, and being constantly exposed to the sea-breezes, it must be very healthy. It is also very fertile. All the agricultural instruments we saw were rude. The plough was of the old Roman model, with an iron point. One of the chief productions of the island is rice, and as for it a constant supply of water is required, there is a very extensive system of irrigation. To prepare it for cultivation, the land is first overflowed, and the labourer hoes, and ploughs, and harrows, while he stands knee deep in mud and water. It is first grown in plots and then transplanted. The banyan-tree is very abundant, and so is the bamboo, which supplies them with food, lodging, and clothing, besides, from its stately growth, forming a delightful shade to their villages. The sugar-cane is grown, and much sugar is made from it. The islands are of coral formation, but, from some mighty convulsion of nature, the rock on which the coral was placed has been upheaved, and now in many places appears above it. The sketch I introduce will afford a better notion of the country-scenery in Loo-Choo than any mere verbal account which I could give.
The people of Loo-Choo are well formed, and the men have full black beards, and their hair being well oiled is gathered to the back of the head, and fastened with a gold, silver, or brass pin, according to the rank of the wearer. Their dress is a loose robe with wide sleeves, gathered round the waist with a girdle, in which they carry their tobacco pouch and pipe. The upper classes wear a white stocking, and when they go out they put on a straw sandal secured to the foot by a band passing between the great toe and the next to it, as worn by the Romans. The peasants go bareheaded and barefooted, and wear only a coarse cotton shirt. Their cottages also are generally thatched with rice straw, and surrounded by a palisade of bamboos. The furniture is of the simplest description. It consists of a thick mat spread on the plank floor, on which the people sit cross-legged; a table, a few stools, and a teapot, with some cups, and a few mugs and saucers. Their food is chiefly rice and sweet potatoes, animal food being only used by the upper classes. The upper ranks use a variety of soups, sweetmeats, and