CHAPTER XII

ON THE COAST OF CHINA

The island of Hong Kong, which was captured by the British in the year 1839, and ceded to them by the Chinese two years later, is separated from the mainland by a narrow channel; and although it is of no great extent it is lofty, with a lookout station on the summit. The town of Victoria, named after Her Majesty the late Queen, lies along the fore-shore, and is, of course, chiefly inhabited by Chinese. Even in Jack Clewlin's time it was a port of considerable importance, a British governor and regiment being located there; and its import and export trade was large.

The most interesting fact was the large floating population, itself forming a second town, which managed to find a living on the water, entire families of young and old people residing together in small vessels, styled sampans, and many of them rarely enjoyed a holiday ashore.

How they existed was a mystery. The Chinaman is famous for his thrifty habits, and can always find means of securing a living where most other folk would certainly starve.

Among those people a curious custom prevailed. Each evening at sunset gongs were beaten and crackers exploded, to scare away the malignant spirits of the night, and the din thus raised was great.

A few days after the arrival of the 'Alert' in the harbour, a rumour that she had been chartered to convey Chinese emigrants to San Francisco spread fore and aft, and aroused much comment.

'It's likely to be true enough,' Readyman observed; 'but in my opinion, Master Jack, the less we have to do with them the better it will be for all hands.'

'They would be cleaner than coal, and could walk ashore instead of being winched into barges,' Jack replied.

'Well, of course, that's true,' the quarter-master returned. 'But I've seen more of them than, perhaps, anyone on board, and I know that with half a chance they will steal the eyes from your head, and you'd never know till you missed them. We've seen something of the Malay pirates----'

'Which do you mean, Readyman?' Jack naively inquired.

'Oh, that last lot didn't count,' the quarter-master laughingly replied. 'Jokes aside, my son, the Malay lot put together wouldn't match one gang out of Canton River. I've seen seven of them strung up together for the seizure of a brig and the murder of her entire crew. You couldn't guess what they did. No, lad, not in a month of Sundays--they lashed the poor fellows to the chain cable, and then let it all run out, so that no one should discover what had been done. Anyhow, our people found it out and choked the rascals.'

'Where is the Canton River, Readyman?'

'Why, quite close to us, sonny. Do you see that white-painted Yankee-built steamboat moored alongside the wharf yonder? she makes the return trip a couple of times a week. Every man of the white crew is always armed. They know what to expect, yet some of them get killed.

'If the rascally cut-throats would come out fair and square in the daylight it wouldn't so much matter. A lot of them often ship as passengers, with the leader doing the swell as a first cabin fare, and before anyone can cry "Jack Robinson!" the ship has been seized and her crew killed.'

'But all Chinamen are not pirates, Readyman.'

'Oh no, my son. All the same, I wouldn't trust one of them with a chew of tobacco.'

One morning, shortly after that conversation, several English and Chinese gentlemen came on board, and accompanied by Captain Thorne they made a close examination of the barque.

Such a procedure proved the accuracy of the rumour already rife. Several carpenters soon arrived, and speedily began to knock up tiers of bunks along both sides of the 'tween deck. There was no longer any room for doubt respecting the conveyance of emigrants.

One afternoon several other Chinese workmen brought on board a quantity of iron-work, and within a week it was firmly set up abreast of the mainmast, right across the main deck, and even extended some feet beyond the bulwarks. It was twelve feet high, with sharp-pointed spikes on top, with a small gate on each side, through which the crew might pass at will.

'But what is it for?' Jack inquired.

'Why, to keep the Chinamen from getting aft, should they start any trouble,' Readyman replied. 'Every vessel in this trade is obliged to carry a stockade. Mind you, I'm not saying that this crowd is going to show fight; many ships make successful trips, but others have mysteriously disappeared, and were never again seen or heard of.'

'How could they be navigated, or, if captured, what could be done with such large craft?' Jack exclaimed, since this talk naturally aroused considerable interest in the subsequent career of the 'Alert,' and he had no mind to 'lose the number of his mess,' as sailors say it. Yet, from what he had seen of the Chinese, he could scarcely think them capable of such behaviour.

'That's more than I could tell,' the quarter-master returned. 'Perhaps they know enough to run them ashore at some quiet spot on their own coast, or somewhere in Japan. But I don't believe those folk would have anything to do with them. See here, what did that rascally Malay's grandfather do with the "Olive Branch" and the "Crusader"? At anyrate, all we've got to do is to keep a sharp lookout, and trust in God.'

'Will our men still live in the forecastle?'

'I suppose so; but directly there's any sign of a row they must scoot behind the stockade, and bar the gates.'

Next day a considerable quantity of rice and other food-stuffs was shipped as also extra tanks for holding fresh water. A secret supply of ammunition, with many rifles to replace the old muzzle-loading muskets till then in use, was taken on board.

That work being completed, the first batch of Chinese emigrants, eighty able-bodied men of quiet demeanour, arrived alongside, and with their scanty belongings they were immediately sent to their quarters in the 'tween deck. Some of them carried small brass-bound boxes, but the majority possessed only bundles wrapped in handkerchiefs, and scarcely a bed could be mustered by the crowd.

A double anchor-watch was kept that night, but nothing occurred to arouse anxiety or suspicion.

Early next morning, however, Jack Clewlin was suddenly turned out, and was told that a typhoon was threatening to sweep the harbour.

'Get your oilskins on at once,' Mr. Statten said. 'Mind that you put a strong belt round all outside, or if the wind gets inside your gear you'll be blown away. We're in for a regular "howler," I'm afraid.'

By the time Jack got into the open both mates were forward, singing out to the hands to send down all the upper masts and yards. In spite of the utmost alacrity, however, only the royal yards reached the deck, since the wind increased so rapidly that no one could remain aloft.

The alarmed emigrants were next battened down in the 'tween deck. Then the second anchor was 'cock-billed' and let go. Both cables were 'paid out' almost to their last links, and they were secured to the foremast. The wind attained hurricane force, and screamed through the rigging like a thousand furies.

Despite her sheltered position under the high mainland the vessel strained fearfully at her anchors, and owing to her height above the water she was frequently blown nearly on her beam-ends. The cries of the Chinamen down below could sometimes be faintly heard, but as they were dry and comparatively comfortable no notice was taken.

Amidst blinding rain and whirling spume all trace of the adjacent town and island disappeared. By noon scarcely any daylight remained. The clouds seemed to almost touch the masts. Volumes of water, swept up by the terrible wind, poured over the deck, and by two o'clock that afternoon the anchors began to drag. Nothing could be done to prevent such peril.

Many of the hands believed that the vessel would capsize. With tremendous strain at the cables, however, she always managed to swing head to wind, and the expected catastrophe was averted.

The Chinamen continued to shout, and became so panic-stricken that Captain Thorne warned their headman, a burly, stubborn-looking fellow, that any further disturbance would be severely dealt with.

About five o'clock that afternoon the typhoon was at its height, and the fearful scream of the wind and the blinding smother of rain and flying spray were truly appalling.

A sudden lull of the tempest was followed by a partial lifting of the obscurity. Then it became evident that the 'Alert' had been blown right away from her innermost anchorage, past the town, and was quite one mile to leeward.

The wind again increased, but not so strongly as before. Mr. Statten presently reported a sensible rise of the barometer.

'Then the typhoon is passing away,' Captain Thorne sang out. 'We won't drag any farther. The sea is beginning to catch us out here.'

'It will soon go down, sir,' Readyman exclaimed, 'She's safe now. The shelter of the land broke the "heft" of the blow.'

By that time it had become intensely dark. The wind, however, was certainly not so strong, but the troublesome sea did not tend toward an improvement of the situation. In spite of all her struggles the barque did not emerge from that ordeal unscathed.

A violent shock was followed by the alarming cry, 'She's ashore!' The next instant screams came aft from the bow, and were followed by similar cries. The heavy bumping of some weighty object along the starboard side was also distinctly felt. Many of the hands immediately hastened that way.

Through the darkness loomed the huge form of a Chinese junk, apparently unmanageable, driving aft before the wind, and doing much injury in the process. As she drifted abreast of the mainmast all the outer iron-work of the stockade was instantly torn away. Three or four Chinamen leaped from their vessel on board the 'Alert,' and in their fall were somewhat severely injured.

Most fortunately the junk had already been dismasted, or she would certainly have brought down some of the barque's spars. Just as she drove clear of the stern a piercing female scream rose from her deck. Then she disappeared. Nothing could be done to save the unfortunate woman, as no boat would have floated for five minutes in the heavy sea. By ten o'clock that night the trouble had almost passed. The vessel was holding her own. The captain ordered the galley fire to be relighted, and a hot supper was served fore and aft. The Chinamen down below also became more amenable, and they enjoyed a meal of boiled rice.

By sun-up next morning the typhoon had completely passed away, and the sea near the land was quite smooth.

To the surprise of all hands, Mr. Statten suddenly reported that he could see the drifting junk of the previous night's adventure still afloat three miles to leeward.

A boat was promptly lowered, in hope of saving anyone on her, and setting some canvas a volunteer crew got alongside. The woman was discovered calmly cooking food for her four young children, and evinced no anxiety for her safety. She would not leave her floating home; but the crew of the boat espied a steamer bearing down toward them, and the junk was finally towed back to Victoria.

The injured Chinamen were sent to hospital. The damage to the 'Alert' was speedily repaired, and thus ended Jack Clewlin's experience of a typhoon on the coast of China.

The destruction among the numberless 'sampans' huddled together along the fore-shore of the island had been great, and many people lost their lives. Not much injury was sustained among the shipping in the harbour, which was entirely owing to the off-shore direction of the wind.

When the barque had been again placed on the active list, everything capable of holding fresh water was filled, the sails were 'bent,' and the remainder of the emigrants, sixty-five able-bodied men, were received. The 'Alert' was ready to start on her voyage across the Pacific.

Only a few hours before leaving Hong Kong young Jack received his third letter from home, together with several 'Stonewell news-letters,' giving him the latest information of how matters thereabout were progressing. In one of the papers he suddenly saw the startling announcement, 'The loss of the "Silver Crown".' In breathless excitement he hurried to the forecastle, and told Readyman the sad news.

It appeared that on her arrival at Point de Galle, in Ceylon, for orders, the clipper had been sent to Calcutta, and was there sunk in the Hoogly during a cyclone.

'I hope the crew were saved, Master Jack,' the quarter-master exclaimed. 'We did well in making the exchange.'

'But seem to be going farther away from home all the time,' Jack added.

'Oh, the more days the more dollars, lad,' Readyman replied. 'Perhaps we may be chartered to bring back here a hold full of dead Chinamen's bones! You needn't look so scared, my son; it's often done. I've never been in the trade myself, but I know that every wandering pigtail makes it a point of honour to have his bones sent home for interment.'

'What a pity that they don't remain where they were born!' Jack exclaimed. 'They can live on a handful of rice for a month, and grow fat on it, too.'

'That's true, sonny,' the quarter-master said. 'I hope this lot won't give us any trouble.'

'Mr. Statten told me that we are to carry a wealthy heathen, partly as a saloon fare, and partly as an interpreter,' Jack explained. 'Perhaps he may be able to keep them quiet.'

'I hope so, lad. At anyrate, we've plenty of "fire-sticks" and ammunition. They work wonders at a pinch.'