The Flying Boat: A Story of Adventure and Misadventure

  CHAPTER X

  LO SAN'S PILGRIMAGE

  Startled from sleep by the mingled din of shots and yells, Erringtonsprang from his bed, and seizing his revolver, rushed to the door of hislittle bungalow and unlocked it. It was thrown back in his face, andbefore he could recover himself, the weapon was knocked from his hand,and he found himself on the floor, with a dozen villainous-looking,ragged and dirty Chinamen on top of him, screeching at the pitch oftheir voices. He understood not a word of what they said; none of themcould speak even pidgin-English: had he known Chinese he would havelearnt that the "foreign devil" was destined to be carried to thearch-leader of the insurrection. Su Fing had an old grudge to pay offagainst him. The brigand had taken particular trouble to ascertain thedwelling of the young Englishman to whom he owed a deep scar on hislearned brow, and a period of imprisonment which, though short, had lefta rankling sore in his aspiring soul.

  Errington made his captors understand by signs that he preferred not toface the world in his pyjamas, and was allowed to dress himself in theirpresence, amid a battery of remarks more or less offensive, but luckilyincomprehensible to him. His hands were then tied behind him, and hewas hurried down to the quay, placed on board a gunboat, and carried upthe river.

  His captors, squatting about him with their spears held upright in theirhands, may perhaps have been surprised at the smile upon the youngEnglishman's face. Errington was, in fact, amused at hissituation--rather relieved than dismayed. This was the very day onwhich he had promised to pay his debt to Reinhardt--the end of the weekof grace. He had gone to bed feeling that next day he would be ruinedand shamed; to find himself the prisoner of Chinese rebels, who werecarrying him he knew not where, but certainly out of Reinhardt's reach,struck him as a comical trick of fate. At that moment he felt almostaffectionate towards the ugly ruffians who were squinting at him.

  Meanwhile some of the rebel band were making themselves very free withhis belongings. They ransacked his wardrobe, appropriated his rifle,his silver cups and other trophies of athletic prowess, tossed about hispapers and a pack of cards they discovered in a drawer, and gathered upinto bundles all that they deemed worth looting. One of them, passinginto the out-buildings at the back, caught Lo San by the pigtail, andsoundly thrashed him for being so evil-disposed as to serve a Europeanmaster. The cook and the other domestics had already seen the error oftheir ways and left without notice.

  It would perhaps have surprised any one who had seen Lo San only on theoccasion of the adventure in the swamp, to find that he alone ofErrington's household had not fled at this climax of his master'smisfortunes. But Lo San was made of good stuff. He might tremble beforea pirate, but his soul was staunch to the master who had been kind tohim and paid him well. The devotion of his native servant is a giftwhich many an Englishman in the East has learnt to prize.

  Lo San hung about the house, having received his thrashing meekly, untilthe looters had stripped it bare. When they had gone away, he wandereddisconsolately through the disordered rooms; nothing of value was left,but he collected the scattered papers and the pack of cards: "Massavelly muchee likee he," he murmured.

  Then he sat down to think. He was very sore, in body and mind; and verypoor, for his castigator had snatched away the little bag, hung at hiswaist, in which he kept his store of cash. "Massa Ellington" was gone,and it seemed to Lo San that he would know no peace of mind until he atleast discovered his master's fate. "Supposey he come back sometime,"he thought, "and look-see my belongey 'nother massa! My no catcheeplopa pidgin[#] that time, galaw!" And after an hour's solemnmeditation he got up, groaning as the movement reminded him of hisstripes, and went out into the town.

  [#] That won't be good business.

  Outside a mean little eating-house he saw a group of insurgents eating abreakfast (for which they had not paid) of fat pork, rice and beans,washed down with tea. He looked at them hard; none of the looters ofhis master's bungalow were among them; and it occurred to him that, ashe had probably a long journey before him, it was sound sense to fortifyhimself with a meal. But he had no money; and though he guessed, by thelugubrious countenance of the eating-house keeper in the background,that the eaters had none either, or at any rate would not part with any,he was shy of joining himself to them uninvited. All at once a happythought struck him. He put on an engaging air of cheerful humility, andaddressing the group in the terms of flowery compliment that comenatural to a Chinaman, he offered to show them a little magic in returnfor food. Being as comfortable and content as men may be who have fedwell at another's expense, they gave a glad assent, and Lo San,squatting before them, produced the pack of cards. He was a verywatchful and observant person, and, silent and unnoticed in his master'sroom, had looked on sometimes when Errington amused his company withthose tricks that seem to the uninitiated such marvels ofthought-reading. He had picked up the secrets of one or two, and now fora good hour he amazed and mystified the rebels with simple tricks whichhe had to repeat over and over again.

  Thus establishing himself in their good graces, he accepted withunctuous gratitude the food which they dealt out to him--somewhatmeagrely, as a sea-beach audience rewards its entertainers; and then,praising their valour, generously buttering them, he led them on to talkof the doings of the day. It was not long before he had heard more thanenough about the exceeding greatness of Su Fing, their august chief,whose Chinese virtues shone with the lustre of the sun: and with quickwit he jumped to the conclusion that his master had been captured byemissaries of Su Fing, who to be sure had reason to remember his onlymeeting with the Englishman. The prisoner had without doubt beencarried to the rebel chief's headquarters at Meichow, higher up theriver; and Lo San made up his mind that it was his plain duty to journeyto Meichow and discover what his master's fate was to be.

  Putting up the cards very carefully, for they had a new value for him,he kow-towed to his illustrious benefactors, as he called the sorryruffians, and took his way to the riverside. The river was crowded withvarious craft of the insurgents, and some distance down stream thelaunch on which the Europeans had been placed was puffing towardsSui-Fu. Lo San, primed with information gleaned from his late hosts,found it now an easy matter to pass himself off as a rebel, especiallyas he contrived to get possession of a spear which had been incautiouslylaid down by its owner. Swaggering with a truculent air among the crowd,he soon discovered from their talk that the Europeans had been released,and supposed that his master was among them. But just as he wasconsidering which of the sampans lying at the shore he shouldappropriate for a night journey to Sui-Fu, he was unlucky enough tocatch the eye of a seller of wood, whom he had kicked from the house aday or two before for asking an absurd price. This man also had armedhimself with a spear, and letting out a fierce "Hai yah!" he sprangtowards Lo San to avenge himself for his kicking, at the same timeacquainting people at large with the fact that the wretch was theimpudent wind-inflated hireling of a foreign devil. The unhappyconsequence was that Lo San was set upon by a dozen others besides thewood-seller, and soundly thrashed a second time for the same offence, aninjustice that wounded his soul even more poignantly than thespear-butts his body.

  But there was compensation even in this, for while his persecutors werebelabouring him, they let their tongues wag freely with abuse andobjurgation, and the wood-seller taunted him with the loss of hismaster, who would soon, he said, be "sliced" for the amusement of theaugust Su Fing. Lo San, when left to himself, reflected that but forthis second beating he might have gone down uselessly to Sui-Fu, whenhis master had been carried in a quite contrary direction. "Even in theblackest thunderstorm there is a flash of lightning," he said tohimself, resolving to journey up-stream as soon as he ached less.

  His misfortunes, however, made him wary. If he purloined a sampan andpaddled up the river, he would certainly meet many rebels; and with hisself-confidence shaken he could not face the risk of another thrashing.So he resolved to perform
the journey to Meichow on foot. He found asecluded nook where he might rest a while; then, still sore, andbeginning to feel hungry again, he set off on his long tramp.

  It is not necessary to describe his journey at length. There was nobeaten road; he had to find his way over fields of mustard and beans,through woods, and across streams lined with bamboos. He passed thenight, cold and hungry, perched in the lower branches of an oak, andstarted again as soon as it was light. When he came to a village, heprocured food by exhibiting his magical skill with the cards; but heavoided the more populous places, and walked for hours together withoutseeing a human being. It was a very weary, tattered, woebegone objectthat at length stole into Meichow.

  Here again he put the cards to profitable use at an eating-house. Helearnt that Su Fing was absent, having gone westward with a large forceto deal with the regular troops that were said to be marching fromTibet. Everybody knew that an English prisoner had been brought in theday before, and was now incarcerated in the yamen of the prefect, whohad fled when Su Fing raided the town. It was a commodious mansion,standing in excellently laid-out grounds, with a large piece ofornamental water on which the prefect had been wont to paddle hispagoda-boat of an evening, feeding his swans. In Su Fing's absence, theplace was occupied by his personal retainers.

  Footsore and exceedingly depressed, Lo San dragged himself to the yamen,and stood like a humble mendicant at the gate, watching the stream ofpeople that went in and out. If only he had had his bag of cash, hemight have been able to convey a message to the prisoner within;door-keepers, and more important officials, in China will do much formoney. But he had no money; even his pack of cards was useless now, andLo San limped sorrowfully away.

  Once more giving himself to meditation, his thoughts turned to "MassaBullows." He knew of the rift between the friends; he knew its cause;there is little concerning his master that a Chinese "boy" does notknow. He liked Burroughs; the only thing in his disfavour was that heemployed a wretched creature named Chin Tai. It occurred to Lo San that"Massa Bullows" ought at least to know of "Massa Ellington's"whereabouts. So it happened that under cover of night the Chinamanloosed a sampan from its moorings, steered it into the river, andallowed himself to be carried down by the stream towards Chia-ling Fuand Sui-Fu beyond. There was not the same risk in going down the riveras there would have been in coming up, and Lo San, paddling as soon ashe was out of earshot, was soon speeding along at a rapid rate towardsSui-Fu.