The Flying Boat: A Story of Adventure and Misadventure

CHAPTER XVII

Chapter 173,763 wordsPublic domain

THE DASH FROM THE YAMEN

Chin Tai returned in about twenty minutes.

"Captain he say hon'ble genelum come this time; he velly glad look-see."

"Good luck," said Errington as Burroughs got up. "If there's any hitch, don't mind about me."

Burroughs mumbled something and went out with his servant. The chair was awaiting him at the outer gate. Ordering two of the guards there to accompany him for appearance' sake, he had himself carried to the captain's quarters hard by. On the way he noticed, without any appearance of concern, a large number of wild-looking warriors assembling to form, as he guessed, a guard of honour for the chief on his return. Many of the men scowled at him as he passed. They did not distinguish one "foreign devil" from another. To many of the lower orders of Chinamen, all foreigners are poison.

Chung Pi had evidently been indulging freely in the pleasures of the table. He was breathing rather hard; melon seeds are very "filling"; and the number of thimblefuls of hot sam-shu, a fiery drink made of millet, which he had consumed had reddened his face and put him on very good terms with himself.

"Honourable stranger," he said, when Burroughs entered, "your honourable face is like the sun at noon-day. You have fed well?"

"Excellently, noble captain."

"You cracked many melon seeds?"

"Not a great number."

"Then you will never be fat. Will you take a little sam-shu?"

"Thank you, not now. Better reserve that until your august chief returns. There has been no further message from him?"

"No; but I have made preparations for greeting him. The bannermen and gong-beaters will go down to the river in due time, and we shall issue forth to greet the illustrious Su Fing with bands of music."

"Would it not be fitting, noble captain, a deed worthy of your high renown, to meet your chief on the marvellous vessel of whose speed you have already made trial? Su Fing returns victorious; he would feel himself duly honoured if his trusty lieutenant met him while still a great way from the town, offering for his acceptance this matchless gift from a great nation."

"You speak well, illustrious stranger. The gift is indeed a noble one. But I fear that I cannot dispense with my afternoon nap. Sleep after meat is a gift of the gods."

"I would not deprive you of it for worlds. I must go down to the boat, to see that all is in order for the journey we propose to make. I will do that while you sleep."

"Not so. The boat pleases me, and drowsy though I am, I am disposed to accompany you. Perhaps Su Fing may give the vessel into my charge; it will be well, then, that I understand something of its qualities. I shall thereby be superior to any other officer of my chief's, and the way of promotion will be open to me."

"By all means, noble captain."

"Yes. To be well fed is vain without true understanding. But tell me, what of the Englishmen? It was told me that one of them was so daring and wicked as to fire a shot at the other. The guards ought to have searched him; I have given orders that when the rejoicings are over they shall be soundly beaten with the leather."

"The man who attempted the crime is bound hand and foot. He can do no more mischief."

"It is well. I am fortunate in having another Englishman for Su Fing. He hates all Englishmen, because they do not approve of his warlike deeds. Furthermore, he was wounded by an Englishman, and taken captive, and he suffered stripes and the cage. His heart will laugh when he knows that another of the hated race lies bound in his yamen. Now let us go."

He summoned his chairmen and armed escort, and was carried along with Burroughs down to the landing-stage, and on to the vessel. There he watched curiously as the Englishman overhauled the engine, and filled his petrol tank. When this was done, Burroughs took from the end of his watch-chain an Indian charm which had been given him by his mother, and made a few meaningless passes with it over the throttle.

"Why do you do that?" Chung Pi asked.

"To ward off evil spirits," replied Burroughs. "We must have a lucky voyage."

"You do well. I myself, as you perceive, have a thread of red silk braided in my queue for the same purpose; and I wear a charm attached to a red string within my shirt. So we shall be doubly secure."

Burroughs, having satisfied himself that everything was in working order, was at leisure to answer the innumerable questions about the hydroplane with which the Chinaman plied him. They were such futile questions as a simple ignorant peasant might put. Burroughs felt that he was answering a fool according to his folly, and again had compunctions about making this guileless ignoramus his accomplice. It was clear that Chung Pi's vanity was flattered by the idea of showing a new importance before the populace. The machine had become an obsession with him, and as he grew more and more wonder-struck at what Burroughs told him, the approaching arrival of his chief became of less interest to him than the prospect of making an impression on the home-coming warriors.

Time slipped away. Burroughs felt restless and impatient. Chung Pi had told him that the approach of the chief's launch would be signalled by a man stationed on the roof of the yamen, which rose high above the surrounding country, and from which another signal station could be seen many miles distant. Burroughs dared not start until the signal was given; yet he felt that time was being wasted.

At last, turning to Chung Pi, he said that he had one great surprise in store for him. He had in fact two, but the second was to be revealed at the proper time.

"You have seen, noble captain," he said, "with what marvellous speed this vessel skims the water, but you have yet to see that it can also fly--even as a duck, which swims ordinarily on the surface, can at need raise itself upon its wings and take the air. But a duck cannot fly so well as this vessel."

"What end is there to the marvels you tell me!" exclaimed the captain. "In truth I have heard of a flying boat, belonging to an Englishman at Sui-Fu; but I mocked at the tale, for men are liars."

"It is true. This boat is even as that of the Englishman; it flies quite as well."

"But how can a boat fly without wings?"

"I will show you."

Burroughs unfolded and spread out the canvas planes at the sides of the boat.

"Wonderful!" said the Chinaman. "It is very like a butterfly."

"How fine a thing it would be to fly to meet Su Fing, noble captain! That would indeed show at once the matchless qualities of this vessel, and the courage of the illustrious officer who so well fills the place of the chief here."

Chung Pi's simple face expressed the longing and the terror which a child shows when he is invited for the first time to taste some new experience--the first ride on an elephant, or on a hobby-horse at the village fair.

"If you would show me first," he said.

He stepped on to the landing-stage, and stood fascinated as the vessel, skimming the surface until it attained its lifting speed, rose into the air, circled, and returning, alighted gently at the very spot whence it had started. Beyond measure delighted, Chung Pi hesitated no longer. Making sure that the red string sustaining his charm was securely about his neck, he entered the boat, and uttered childish exclamations of wonderment and pleasure as the vessel once more performed the same flight. On landing, he bore himself with a vainglorious swagger before the crowd of excited onlookers. He insisted on taking Burroughs back to his own house for a few melon seeds and cups of tea, and talked incessantly of the sensation he would make when he flew to meet Su Fing.

While they were at tea, with Chin Tai in attendance as interpreter, Lo San, enjoying a certain prestige as the servant of the kind German who had brought so precious a gift, was entertained by the captain's escort. They were exchanging notes with him when the long-expected message was signalled: the watchman on the roof of the yamen had seen a signal on a hill two miles away; the signaller there had received the message from another, and he from another. Su Fing was little more than an hour's journey distant. At once there was a ringing of bells and beating of gongs. Chung Pi, trembling with eagerness, came forth with Burroughs; a procession was formed, and with an armed escort before and behind the chairmen carried their burdens down to the river.

At the landing-stage Lo San approached Burroughs, and said in an undertone--

"Su Fing he no lick all-same. Fellas he say Su Fing hab catchee numpa one beatin' Cheng Tu side. He belongey velly bad temper."

Rumour, flying swiftly through the country, had brought news that the chief, so far from being victorious, had been driven headlong from Cheng Tu by regular forces summoned from Tibet, and was now falling back on Meichow to recoup his losses. There was no doubt that Chung Pi had heard the news; but Burroughs guessed that it was as much as his place was worth to greet his master otherwise than as a conqueror.

This information, strange as it may appear, rendered Burroughs the more anxious to set off on his trip up-river. Chung Pi was equally eager, for a different reason. They entered the boat, followed by Chin Tai and Lo San. The ropes were cast off; Burroughs started the engine, and amid loud shouts from the assembled soldiery drawn up on the shore and about the landing-stage in anticipation of the chief's arrival, and from the rag-tag populace swarming on every patch of open space, the vessel ran a few yards up the river, planed as it gathered speed, and finally soared smoothly into the air.

Burroughs flew low, so that the trees that edged the river might prevent the spectators at the harbour from following too closely the direction of his flight. Chung Pi was as happy as a lark. He sat, beaming a bland smile, in the seat which Errington had so often occupied. What visions of greatness shone before his soaring soul! He wished that the honourable stranger would rise higher, so that he might descend upon his chief like a celestial benediction. But the honourable stranger's mood seemed to have changed since he left the town. There, he was affable, condescending, communicative; he had a pleasant smile; now he was silent, his lips were pressed together, his moustache appeared stern and forbidding. Chung Pi reflected that he naturally felt his responsibility.

For some two miles Burroughs headed straight up the river. Then, well clear of the town, he suddenly altered his course, leaving the river, flying inland, rising as he did so, in order to clear the tree-tops and to get a complete view of the city. The flying boat was describing a circle; presently it was heading on a straight course for Su Fing's yamen, that stood, bright and picturesque, a conspicuous object on its elevated site.

"But what is this?" said Chung Pi anxiously. "We are going back!"

Burroughs did not turn his head or open his lips. But Chin Tai, squatting a little in the rear of the captain, remembered the instructions which his master had impressed upon him in that quiet talk by the window of the prisoner's room.

"Be not alarmed, noble captain," he said with obsequious reverence. "My august master has forgotten the little charm which he carries to keep off the evil spirits of the air. It would be terrible to start on so important a journey without this necessary talisman."

"But we have already started," Chung Pi objected. "And have I not the red silk in my queue, and my own charm about my neck? Will they not suffice, O foolish one?"

"Heaven-born excellency," replied Chin Tai in still more submissive tones, "you perceive that we have started to return to the yamen. We shall begin our real journey from there."

"But your illustrious master has the charm. He showed it me long ago."

For a moment Chin Tai was staggered; but ready wit coming to his aid, he said--

"This is another charm, noble captain--a better one. My august master must have left it in the yamen. Even the great are at times foolish."

"That is true," said Chung Pi, thinking of Su Fing. "Your illustrious master does well to be quite safe, but we waste much time."

"Very little, illustrious captain. Are we not flying swift as any bird? Your excellency will be amazed to see how fast we can go, before our flight is finished."

Chung Pi was pacified. Indeed, he began to revel in his sensations. How smoothly the vessel flew! How delightful was the scene below--the tree-tops never beheld yet except by the birds of the air, the rolling river, the woods and vales beyond; the city, so rapidly approaching, in its new aspect no longer a labyrinth of mean streets, but a picturesque pattern of masonry! Su Fing, with all his examinations, had never learnt these secrets of the air; Chung Pi began to wonder whether so ignorant a man was fitted to be chief.

Burroughs steered straight for the yamen. It was a severe test of his airmanship to alight on the narrow piece of ornamental water that graced the gardens, and to avoid the bridge that zigzagged across it from shore to shore. He shaved it almost by a hair-breadth, and came safely down upon the lake's unruffled surface. Then he ran the vessel to the end nearest the yamen, and brought it up against the stone parapet of a terrace on which Su Fing was wont to walk of an evening, watching the graceful movements of his swans, and meditating his projects against tyranny.

And now Burroughs found his tongue. Speaking with a curt brevity that somewhat offended the captain's sense of what was due to his new-born dignity, he ordered--for it was more an order than a request--Chung Pi to remain in the boat with Lo San; he himself with his servant would proceed to the yamen and fetch the charm. Lo San was nervous. He had made up his mind to throttle the captain if any harm befell "Massa Bullows," or if he attempted in any way to interfere. But looking at the big man, his muscular limbs, his sword and dagger, he felt that the task might prove to be beyond his powers.

"Massa Bullows" had ordered him to turn the vessel round, so that its head pointed towards the river, and to be ready to throw the engine into first speed as soon as he gave the word on his return. Having brought the boat again alongside the parapet, he sat waiting, with his eyes fixed on Chung Pi's half-sullen face.

Burroughs, meanwhile, had hurried with Chin Tai through the garden, crossed the rising terraces, and come round to the entrance of the yamen. The guards stood aside to let him pass. Without any appearance of haste he entered, and reached the door of the room in which Errington and Reinhardt were still confined. The sentinels were clustered about a window at one end of the passage, gazing with curiosity at the boat in which their captain sat. Chin Tai hailed them, and pointing to Chung Pi, ordered the men to enter the room, release the bound prisoner, and march him down to the vessel. Burroughs watched them nervously, asking himself whether his scheme would succeed. It was at this point that it threatened to break down. He had calculated that all four men would flock into the room together, but only three did so, the fourth remaining outside.

"Watch this man," said Burroughs to Chin Tai, following the three men into the room.

They were stooping over the German, fumbling with the knots which they had themselves tied, when Errington, who had moved unconcernedly towards the door, suddenly darted out. At the same moment Burroughs stepped back into the passage, pulled the door after him, and shot the bolt; and Chin Tai sprang at the bewildered sentinel, caught him by the throat, and held on until he was half strangled. Then Burroughs drew from his pocket some cords and a piece of canvas he had brought from the boat, and with Errington's assistance gagged and bound the man.

Before this was done, the sentinels bolted in the room had begun to yell, hammering on the door with the butts of their spears. The sounds attracted two or three servants of the yamen, who had nothing to do until their master returned. They came running into the passage from the outer courtyard, just in time to see the two foreigners, and the Chinaman, leap from the window on to the walk beneath. Instead of opening the door of the prisoner's room, the servants ran yelling towards the outer gate, to inform the guards that the English prisoner had escaped, and was being pursued by the German and his boy. The guards rushed up to the walk beneath the window, from which they could see Errington spring like a deer from terrace to terrace, with the two others close behind as if chasing him.

Burroughs had calculated that, even if Chung Pi should catch sight of them the moment they left the house, he would scarcely be able to grasp and grapple with the situation during the few seconds in which they were sprinting across the eighty yards of terraces that separated the yamen from the lakeside. They expected that his first movement would be to spring ashore, and Lo San had been ordered to lay the boat at the steps leading up to the parapet so as to give him an opportunity of doing so. But they had not reckoned with the effect of their startling actions upon the captain's wits, or with the clamour that had sprung up behind them. The whole population of the yamen was streaming out into the grounds, yelling at the top of their voices, many of them without knowing why. Su Fing's wife and children were drawn from their secluded quarters; cooks, scullions, hair-dressers, nurses, gardeners, all the personnel of the chief's establishment were out of doors.

Chung Pi, who had been sitting in impatient dudgeon in the boat, rose to his feet at this extraordinary hullabaloo, and gazed in consternation up towards the yamen, missing the three men, who were nearer to him, but partially hidden by the shrubbery of the terraces. When they pulled themselves up sharply at the stone parapet, leapt down the stairs, and stepped gingerly, as became the light framework of the craft, into the canvas boat, he sank, utterly unstrung, on to one of the thwarts.

This unhappy consequence of a surfeit of melon seeds and sam-shu very much simplified the matter for Burroughs and Errington. They had discussed in the room in the yamen what they should do if the genial warrior showed fight, and had come reluctantly to the conclusion that it might be necessary to tumble him into the lake. It was shallow, and there was no danger of so buoyant a man drowning. The fugitives were much relieved to find that it was unnecessary to adopt a violent course with him. It went against the grain to discommode physically so friendly a simpleton, to say nothing of the unwisdom of engaging in a tussle when a score or two pursuers were within a few yards of them.

At the moment of reaching the lakeside Burroughs signed to Lo San to put the engine at full speed. Then dashing past the bewildered captain, he seized the steering-wheel as the vessel moved out. For a few yards the boat planed, but by the time it had gathered way, and Burroughs adjusted the elevator and switched the engine on to the air tractor, the bridge was perilously near. But for the zigzag construction of the bridge, the boat could hardly have been prevented from dashing into it. But a slight movement of the rudder caused it to clear the bridge where it dropped down towards the approach on the lakeside, and it soared over the stonework with the narrowest of margins. From that point the grounds of the yamen were open for the space of more than a hundred yards, except for some clumps of shrubbery which were easily avoided. Free now to employ the elevating planes, Burroughs sent the vessel aloft, cleared the outer walls, dodged the trees beyond, and set his course straight for the river.

By this time Chung Pi had partially regained his composure. Not a word had been spoken; everything had happened in the space of a minute or two. The captain's dominating feeling was annoyance that the stranger had dared to bring the prisoner from the yamen without consulting him; indeed, in defiance of the contrary wish he had expressed earlier in the day. But he put it down to an ambitious desire to cut a figure before the chief; and since he, Chung Pi, would share in the glory of the feat, he decided to overlook the presumption and content himself by and by with a reprimand.

His feeling changed, however, to amazement, suspicion and foreboding, when he saw that the flying boat, instead of turning up-river, skimmed over the tops of the houses in the contrary direction. He heard the shouts of the crowds below, the ringing of bells, the beating of gongs, and glancing to the right he saw with dismay the smoke of the chief's launch high up the river.

"We are going the wrong way!" he cried in desperation. "Su Fing is at hand!"

"Be at ease, noble captain," said Lo San pleasantly. "We shall soon be at Sui-Fu!"

He flattered himself that the shock of this announcement would give Chung Pi "pins and needles inside," as he said afterwards; little foreseeing that he himself was to have a succession of very unpleasant shocks before night.