In the Yellow Sea

The villagers – farmers – came upon me, and stood a little away, staring in wonderment at me. Then they surrounded me, and made inquiries which I ignored, – not from pride, – and then they tried more questions, and searching ones. Fortunately they found nothing, but they conferred together, and indicated that I must return with them to the village. Of course I had no alternative, and accompanied them, where, in a kind of shed, I was commanded to strip! In the most emphatic fashion I declined, folding my arms and exclaiming, "Englishman," and added – what they knew already – "Fan Quei" (foreign devil).

They then paused, but suddenly seized me, and while some held me down, the rest dragged off my clothes, until they came to the belt around my waist, that they did not take away, perhaps thinking it was something magical, it being ornamented and worked, but they felt it, and evidently discussed it. Finding nothing in it – luckily the distributed coin escaped them – the fellows gave me my clothes, and sent for another person. While I was dressing, the person arrived – a true Chinese of Canton breed, such as we may see in East London, England.

He, in turn, stared at me curiously, and asked a question. I made a lamely expressed reply in Chinese as I understood it; but the man, to my great delight, asked in "pidgin," "Wantee go sea? Melican-man?"

"Yes," was my reply, greatly relieved; "England. Elopean man – wantchee Shanghai. What fashion man here?"

"Alle samee, Melican-man. Sabee cash, chop-chop, eh?"

"Yes," I nodded; "plenty much cash."

"Alle light; no watchee long talkee. One piecee man wantee cash. Chow-chow?"

I nodded again. I was hungry. "See dless?" I said.

"Ah! dless come more better! Makee laugh, not number one."

No, it certainly was not proper then, but I laughed, and the villagers were surprised at the conversation. The coolie understood my "pidgin," and I felt much happier. I had cash, and even silver, so I could reward him if he assisted me; but suppose he tried treachery?

This seemed probable, but I must risk something. He said something to the villagers, who replied vehemently. The coolie, who was a waiter from Port Arthur, as I understood, said to me —

"Number one topside-man say plis'ner! No can do: walkee!"

"Cannot you get me away then?" I asked in "pidgin" of the coolie.

"No lun away. Too much, man – no go long; no tink! Get dless, chop-chop!"

This was unfortunate; escape seemed hopeless. So far as I understood the coolie, he found that we could not escape from the villagers at once. He was quite willing to assist me, knowing that I would pay him, but the farmers were very suspicious. Had they found out the little pocket in my belt in which I carried the Japanese permit, and my small store of coin, they would have killed me. Cowardice is usually cruel.

My captors quickly gave me to understand that they meant business. They produced a bamboo pole, which they passed behind me, and under my arms, to which they tied it. They left my legs free, because they intended me to walk, as I understood, to Putsewo, where the "pidgin" man said the Chinese troops were quartered. I hoped the Japanese might come up there meanwhile; but then, between Jack and Jap, I would be fixed between two stools, and either might cut the support.

As soon as I had been fully dressed, and the pole fixed, I was put in the care of two of the men, with the coolie acting as the go-between. The last mentioned told me my destination; had he known that my captain suspected me of being a spy, I knew my fate would have been sealed. I begged him to release me.

"No can do!" was the reply. "Too mutchee fear! Maskee!" (by and by).

I was obliged to be content with this, and when the men had given me a meal of rice and water we set out. The coolie held the end of the rope in his hand, and the farmers walked close behind me, one on each side, so that at the first attempt to escape they could intercept me.

The rope was so twisted and so taut around my hands that I implored the coolie to loosen it. After consultation, he complied, saying, "Maskee, maskee," and evidently willing to assist me, but hinting at cash. Making an excuse to halt, I managed to hand him a little silver, as a guarantee, and to my delight found my bonds slackened. Still the other two men kept watch, and took turns at driving me like a pig to market.

The day was already waning, and I began to speculate upon release during the evening. There had been several delays since breakfast, and again my escort halted to advise themselves of the route, the cross-country direction, before night fell. As we were all standing, three of the party chattering like magpies, in the dusk, I felt the rope twitch and then slacken. My senses were at once awakened. The Port Arthur servant was keeping me alert, and I saw he was pointing to some huts below us. Another village! I must act!

I looked around me in all directions, and made up my mind to rush the hill beside me and hide amid the boulders. I had no thought beyond escape, and when some minutes later "my coolie" dropped the end of the rope suddenly, exclaiming, "Kinchow!" I knew my chance had come, and the direction. The yellow fellow gesticulated in the face of my captors. I was free!

With a leap aside like a deer I darted away up the slope, and slightly turning my head I perceived that the coolie had got mixed up with the farmers, and was hindering them. Never were a few pieces of silver better bestowed, I thought, as I bounded up the hill, pursued by my two captors, while "Kinchow" rang in my ears – where or what Kinchow was, unless "Chincow" was meant, I did not care. I was free; free in the gathering darkness truly, alone and unarmed, but even so, unharmed and with a chance for life.

I was in dread lest the dangling rope would trip me up, and as I ran I tried to get it up higher. Luckily it trailed behind me and did not touch me. So I sprang up, leaped some small streams, not thinking of any definite direction but doubling like a hunted hare, disappearing behind rocks and again striking a new course, but always away from the twinkling lanterns which I could now distinguish below me, and I fancied I heard dogs barking.

This was most alarming. Though I had not heard of bloodhounds in China, the ordinary dog when accompanied by his master was quite unpleasant enough, and in bulk formidable; when at last I rested upon the hill, and listened intently, I felt assured that the alarm had been given, and that my captors had sent to the village for assistance. Then I girded up my loins indeed, and though terribly handicapped by the rope around my shoulders, I made a desperate effort, and kept through a wood and around the boulders near the summit of the hill. Kneeling down, I placed myself between two rocks facing the ascent from the village, and could distinguish nothing at all below me. After a while I saw a few roving lights descending, and then knew that until the morning pursuit had ceased. Fervently I thanked God for my escape, and, feeling rested, began to attempt release from the rope.

I do not know whether any of my readers have ever attempted the "rope trick" when bound by one of a sceptical audience, but my release was far more unlikely. The rope had been knotted with a will, and though "where there's a will there's a way," I could find no way save by rubbing my arms against the sharpest edge of the next convenient stone, and a nice way it was! Suffice it that I succeeded in cutting the bonds, and in scraping my shoulders, in a manner suggestive of the lash, or birch rather; but the relief was worth all the pain and exertion, and when I lay down to rest, not on my back, I fell asleep with a thanksgiving upon my lips.

Morning was hardly putting a candle in the east, when, stiff and numb, I attempted to rise. At first waking I was apprehensive whether I would be able to get up, but by degrees I unlocked my muscles, and extended my limbs. Then as soon as there was light I quitted my stony shelter, and proceeded through the wood. But when I came to an opening in the bushes I for the first time perceived what a terrible risk I had run. The rocks under which I had sheltered had fallen from above, and only paused in their descent over another precipice which ended in a stream strewn with boulders; beyond the stream lay the village deep in the millet-fields, lately harvested, bristling with stubble, and higher up the cliffs whence the rocks had fallen.

The situation reminded me, distantly, of Beatenberg in Berne, when once I lay beneath the cliffs, gazing below at the rocky mill-stream which makes its way to the lake of Thun through a narrow, precipitous gully. But what an escape I had had!

My first care was to put as great a distance as possible between the village and myself, and so I clambered up and across the hills, having seen no one and heard nothing to alarm me. I descended the rocky, not precipitous, slope on the other side, and struck into a side valley, but whither it would lead I did not care. It led me to water and refreshment, and then I hid the rope before resuming my journey to Kinchow.

For hours I wandered on, meeting no one, and fearing to encounter anyone. Some unpleasant-looking birds kept me company for a while, and gave me "the fidgets." I began to think of vultures, and shuddered when they seated themselves at a little distance and blinked, as I thought, at each other, nodding at me at intervals. I maintain now, in defiance of bulls of Ireland, these were the most "beastly birds" I ever saw! They laughed at the stones I threw at them, for they simply rose half a yard when I made good practice, and settled again at once, till I gave up stoning them, and disinterred the rope thinking to lasso them, or one of them.

But they were as 'cute as a weasel, they could not be caught asleep; and finally, tired and hungry, I wandered on, cursing the birds, the Japanese, the Chinese, and my ill-luck which had been the cause of my adventures. As evening approached the "beastly" birds disappeared. By that time I was half silly, and felt inclined to do something desperate. Still I tramped on till dusk, when a light in a small house – one of four such – beckoned me to cheer up.

I perceived that these were farms, and the usual crops were in evidence, such as rice, sugarcane (which the coolie is fond of chewing), pulse, potatoes, wheat, tobacco, and some vegetables. The rice crop had been gathered, – the late sowing I mean, for sometimes three crops are reaped, the last reaped in November, when vegetables are planted. Rice wants water, cane does not, and this is, therefore, profitable, as irrigation is dispensed with. Rice is the stable food, and even the landlord is paid in rice, which may amount to as much as three hundred and fifty pounds, or perhaps more, per acre.

Fortunately for me, on this occasion, a woman was washing some article outside the house, and though as a rule the Chinese female is ignored and secluded, the peasant, the labourer-woman, is in evidence. To this peculiar specimen I addressed myself in a language she had never heard, and could not understand. But she could interpret signs and pantomime, while she seemed inclined to assist me. When she disappeared I was left in doubt, but after a while she brought me food in a saucer, the origin of which I was too madly hungry to discriminate. Whether rat, dog, or snake I cared not. I am sure it was horrible at the time, but I managed to eat it, and was not ill, though inclined thereto. She supplemented this mess by a dose of rather bad salt fish and pickled cabbage, with some rice plainly boiled; and this I did enjoy. There was plenty of water; and when I bestowed upon my host the magnificent sum of one penny (English value), she believed me a wandering idol. Her pleasure was marked, and she actually indicated a place where I might rest in quiet under a thick coverlet which she brought me to the shed she pointed out.

Then I was "in clover," and when I had ascertained that I was in no danger I asked for "Kinchow" and its direction. The female drew some lines with her finger on the ground, and pointed in a direction in which I had been advancing. Then shutting me in she left me to sleep, which I did gladly for some hours.

But next morning I felt quite unable to rise, and when yet struggling to get up, the farmer and his wife and son all appeared, and stood staring at me. I begged for mercy, thinking they meant me harm – perhaps the farmer had suspicions; but he evidently had heard of cash from his wife. He was polite and kind, brought me food which I could not eat, – the supper had already upset me, – but consented to leave me quiet to sleep, as I begged them by signs to do. Briefly, I remained there three days, and spent several pennies in cash (about a hundred) in making myself perfectly "at home."

On the fourth day I engaged the lad to be my guide by a promise of cash, and started for Kinchow feeling in good company and in good spirits. For the farmer had been paid, and he and I had managed to make each other understand. He had got the idea into his head that I was a Russian seeking Port Arthur, and agreed to put me on my way. Three whole days had been passed in coming to this understanding by the aid of a friend of the host, a rough map, and of course cash. At length I saw my way to liberty.

Alas! I was checked at the outset. The weather changed, and while I had anticipated snow perhaps, and frost later, the wind brought up big clouds, and a thunderstorm arose with pelting rain. The young farmer declined to advance until the weather moderated, so we waited, and then in the pauses of the tempest retraced our steps to the hospitable farm. There two more days were spent in picking up Chinese and dropping cash. Meantime my spirits fell, and at times I felt seriously depressed. The chances of escape through the Chinese and Japanese lines seemed to me to become less and less, and the situation was the more intolerable because I could not freely express myself, and gain protection or assistance.

During my enforced further sojourn with the farmer's family I endeavoured to induce them to lead me direct to Port Arthur (or, as it is called by Chinese, Lü-shun-Kou; by Japanese, Ryojunkõ). But the guide demurred to this. He evidently was afraid of the invading army, and it became increasingly evident to me that I should have to look after myself if we came within shot of the Japs. With such forebodings I set out again with my fearful guide, and struck the telegraph posts upon the Pulantien (Port Adams) Road.

If the reader will examine a map he will perceive that there are two main roads in the Sheng-King peninsula, both leading to Port Arthur, the western from Fuchow, and farther north still the other along the coast road by Putsewo and Talien Bay. Above the place which the British called Port Adams in 1859, the roads unite. These two tracks, stony and rugged, through and amid hills, wind their way to Kinchow, near which the peninsula becomes very narrow, and, in fact, is only about two miles wide – or less.

It was the All-Hallow's Eve when we came cautiously into the first village, and found the peasants much alarmed at the near approach of the Japanese. Scouts had reported the advance, and a number of carts and men were bringing supplies for the army in the town, and for the cavalry outside it. My guide had a brilliant idea, – no less than one for the supply of vegetables, and he managed with my cash to lay in a stock, which he suggested we should carry into Kinchow, and go through it to Port Arthur.

His leaden face lighted up when I praised his plan, though I have reason to think now that I rather called him names in my imperfect vocabulary. However, he seemed pleased, on the whole, and we set out on the 1st November to penetrate between the line of formidable forts which defended the approaches to Kinchow, on the hills along which the stony track meanders. The whole aspect of the country through which we had lately travelled is undulating; seamed by depressions, or ridged by hills, so that we were rising and falling all the time with our hopes and fears. I was particularly nervous, because if anyone chanced to clutch my artificial pigtail I would be a "lost mutton." The moral character of the Chinaman depends upon – or shall I say in – his tail. A Chinaman sans pigtail is an outcast. The Manchus live and dress like the Chinese, and supply the best food for powder in China.

We had some trouble – more perhaps in my imagination – on our way to the town, over whose walls the terrible Dragon was waving on banners and flags in most defiant fashion. If the Chinese resistance would only accord with their preparations and defences, the little Japanese would certainly be repulsed, I thought. As we advanced I felt like a man forced into a trap, for if discovered I had no chance for life from the Celestials, while the Rising Suns would have no quarter for those taken "in arms." Chinese pickets were scattered amongst the hills, and some fine men were in the ranks.

No doubt there were hundreds of men within these forts, though we saw few of them, and I wondered whether they kept watch at night carefully, for indeed they appeared rather sleepy in the morning, though ready enough with their rifles. They could thus command both roads into Kinchow from a distance over the hills and dales.

I had fancied that I heard guns during the night, but perhaps it was thunder. At anyrate the night was boisterous, and the morning chilly and wet. A long column of carts met us, and we with the natives winded our way down the track, passing two villages of few houses, and nearing the city, for from the hill we came close to it, and entered by the northern gate. Assuming a most "fearful" carelessness, which in less anxious times might have proved my undoing, I walked by my guide's side watching every movement, and scarcely noticing the glances cast upon us. Luckily my companion was recognised and well known, and our mission was patent. We had brought food, and entered the town by the Gate of "Eternal Tranquillity," a misnomer as it proved.

We made our way into the town amid soldiers, horses, and peasants. The walls were lofty and solid, the gates well defended, and I understood that all the approaches were mined, so that the attacking force would be blown up outside if the mines exploded. At anyrate, it seemed a very formidable place, and capable of a successful resistance. The guns were mounted on the bastions, and all ready for a siege. The soldiers were swarming in the streets, quartered on the people whom they had come to defend, and swaggering as much as they could.

My guide escorted me to an eating-house, a small, and, I thought, very dirty place, amid the peasants; and there he heard the news, for though all seemed on the alert and not alarmed, they knew the Japanese were approaching rapidly. We managed to get some satisfying food, and in escaping observation amid the soldiers who were enjoying themselves, and in excellent spirits. My guide was amused, and when I had paid for our entertainment, he made for the south gate, guarded by Manchus.

There we found exit denied, for the soldiers were stationed there in force, whether to run away first, or to prevent the townspeople from doing so, I could not determine. But we were stopped and questioned and searched. My heart sank to my shoes. The end I considered had come. What defence had I? I could not even reply to the questions which the "sergeant," so I deemed him, put to me. My guide had quickly cleared himself, and was standing chattering to the officer of the gate. My time had come, and I braced myself to meet the inevitable fate which was impending.

CHAPTER XIII

KINCHOW – ARRESTED BY CHINESE SOLDIERS – CAPTURE OF THE CITY

As I have said, my heart sank as the sergeant came up roughly and prepared to strip me again. Such an indignity I was unable to resist, and when the man indicated a spot apart where my costume could be conveniently removed if needful, my anger rose, and I made some remarks, which, as a fancy display of Chinese, may have given rise to curiosity, but as a means of release were void of effect. As I continued to address the "sergeant," he stood still, and gazed at me in as much surprise as a Manchu soldier usually exhibits. Seeing this, my anger and expostulations grew more fierce. I waved my arms, gesticulated, performed sleight-of-hand movements with my fingers, and in fact exhibited such manifest tokens of ability to take a "first-class" at Earlswood (England), that the man retreated to make inquiry respecting me, and I breathed again.

What was my late companion doing all this time? He had apparently deserted me, and this after all my lavish – in a Chinese sense – expenditure of cash. Again my bad feelings predominated, and I felt truly disgusted with my "luck." There was no loophole for escape, and though the disappearance of the sergeant was a blessing, it might really result in death.

The man had left me alone in the hut, – I cannot call it house, – and when my ill temper had quickly evaporated I began to think of escape. The door was open to the passage or side street, and when I peeped out I perceived a soldier, armed, standing sentry at the end of the cul de sac, as the alley was. Escape seemed impossible. I was again a prisoner; whither could I go, what could I do were the thoughts which surged through my excited brain. The Chinese (or Manchu) soldier had me in his keeping, and perhaps had orders to kill me if I attempted to escape, pending the return of the lieutenant of the guard. Meantime, I was absolutely helpless. In any "civilised" country one might have managed to intercede for oneself, but there in Manchuria the case was different. I was lost! – strayed!

During the minutes already at my disposal I considered all the available plans of evasion I had heard of. Captives in stories, and in all the imaginative books which I had devoured, always had a friend who, whether a Freemason or not, had means at hand to circumvent the villain! But there was no villain in my case; nothing unusual, nothing out of the way in my circumstances, and this dead-level of experience appeared devoid of any person who could undertake the role of the "god in the machine," and release me. Here was the sentry, there the lofty gate, its platform surmounted by a two-storeyed tower, from which the advance of the enemy was doubtless perceived, or would shortly be perceived. Neither sentinel nor entrance seemed likely to afford me passage. Ah! the sentry was approaching. I shrank back into the hut, and peeped through the opening of the door. The sentry came on slowly and somewhat limply.

He had a rifle and ammunition, and seemed well equipped. He passed the place of my concealment, and I began to hope that he would pass on, and permit of my escape to the main street, which, being full of people, might afford opportunities for it; but to my disgust he turned, and came directly towards me. As he came nearer I retreated into the gloom of the hut, and not perceiving me, he came in. Still uncertain, he advanced carelessly, I fancied, and at that moment something prompted me to make a decided effort at release.

He was carrying his rifle on his arm above the elbow, not in any European soldierly manner; a sword or bayonet was at his side. Suddenly I made a spring like a tiger upon the man, and in a second had him thrown. He struggled manfully, and attempted to strike me with a knife, but I was half-maddened, youthful, and strong. I hit him violently between the eyes, and dazed him; then wresting the rifle from his relaxed grasp, I banged it upon his head in a manner which I afterwards regretted, and darted from the hut. As I ran into the alley I encountered my late guide, who was then coming in search of me.

His surprise was genuine, and he made some inquiries by the pantomime method, assisting it by a few words, which I interpreted to indicate surprise at my escape. I told him in the same tongue what had happened, and he was aghast at my temerity! He dragged me back at once hastily, and I was unable to resist him. When he saw the unconscious soldier he became calmer, but still apparently greatly in the same haste, motioning me to assist in taking off the man's outward dress. Seeing some prospect of escape, I helped him, and then putting his own clothes upon the soldier, who never stirred all the time, but lay passive as the dead, my guide quickly dragged me out with him, a prisoner, having first hidden the rifle and ammunition, keeping the sword of the sentry.