Part 6

The half-emptied teacups left on the table as the women hurried from the dining-room were to remain there many days. Gathering up a few things, they started for the boat as the sun was setting. On a hill back of the hospital were six hundred soldiers of the Manchu Emperor.

"They are likely to fire!" said one of the servants.

But no gun was fired as the party went out. The boatman was waiting, although he trembled with fear. The river was rough, and the waves threatened to swallow the little boat, but it reached Hankow in safety.

The city was crowded, and the only rooms to be found were in a poor little hotel. None of the party slept that night.

"If you hear a signal in the night," they were warned, "it will mean, 'Danger! Rise and dress!' If there is a second signal, it will mean, 'All gather near the gunboats!' A third signal will mean, 'Great danger! American women and children get into the boats!'"

All night they listened, but they heard only the steady tramp, tramp of the guards who marched up and down the streets.

In the morning a messenger called out, "The soldiers entered Hanyang in the night!"

If the boatman had not waited, they would have been shut up in the city.

"Rich Chinese men and women are paying much money to be let down over the walls in baskets, for the gates are closed, and no one can get out any other way," said the messenger.

In the evening Jennie Crawford saw thirty girls coming down the street.

"Here come the schoolgirls from Wuchang!" she cried joyfully.

Each girl carried the few clothes she had been able to save tied up in a square of cotton cloth.

"For two days and nights we were shut in the school building," said one. "The bullets flew all round, and we could see burning buildings every way we looked. Then the rescue party reached us. We had our bundles all ready to leave at a moment's notice."

They were very tired, yet they stood bravely round the walls of the room, for there were no chairs. Not one knew whether she had a home or any friends left, but not even the youngest cried or complained.

"Extra! Extra!" shouted a newspaper messenger as he carried his papers from house to house. "Twenty thousand troops on the way from Peking!"

Jennie Crawford bought a paper and everyone gathered round her.

"Twenty thousand of the Emperor's soldiers are on their way from Peking!" she announced. "The British and American consuls advise all foreign women and children to go on to Shanghai!"

On to Shanghai they went that evening. The city was crowded with many refugees. At last they were safe with friends who were waiting for them there, and who gave them a glad welcome.

But they did not stay in Shanghai. After a few days Dr. Huntley came into the sitting-room one morning with a paper in his hand.

"The call has come for Red Cross doctors and nurses to go to Hankow," he said. "The wounded soldiers of both armies are being taken there, and there is no one to care for them. I'm going to volunteer to return as a Red Cross surgeon."

"I'll go with you as a Red Cross nurse," said Jennie Crawford.

"Take me, too!" begged Jennie Cody.

"No Americans except doctors and nurses are allowed to enter the city," answered Dr. Huntley.

Jennie Cody looked up at him. "The one thing I have said I never, never could be is a nurse, but I won't be a coward when Jennie Crawford needs help, and wounded soldiers have no one to nurse them. Pin the red cross on my arm and maybe that will give me courage."

When they bought tickets, the agent said, "You go at your own risk. I can make no promise that you will ever reach Hankow. Many boats are being fired on."

But as the boat with the red cross on its white flag went up the river, the soldiers of both armies lowered their guns.

Such a different Hankow they found! The crowded streets were deserted; even the beggars were gone. The smoke still hung over the ruins of many buildings which had been burned. The fire had not touched an unfinished hospital, and in it they found many wounded soldiers. Most of the fighting was in Hanyang, and the Red Cross launches brought the wounded men of both armies across the river.

Two nurses were already there for day duty, so Jennie Crawford and Jennie Cody slept in the day and went on duty at night going up and down between the rows of soldiers like angels of mercy. There were few beds, and most of the men had to lie on straw on the floor with no sheets or pillows.

"Which way will it go?" said Jennie Cody one day.

"No one can tell," answered Jennie Crawford. "Just now the revolutionists are ahead. They have captured the arsenal in Hanyang. Three hundred of their soldiers went up to the gate with their clothes torn and looking as if they had been in a battle. They pretended to be the soldiers of the Emperor who had been defeated. The gate-keepers let them in, and they took charge of the arsenal without firing a single shot. Now the people are so sure the revolutionists will win that many men have already cut off their queues. The soldiers with swords in their hands demand that men prove they are loyal to the new republic by having their queues cut off."

"If we could only get back to Hanyang again to get some warm clothes!" sighed Jennie Cody. "I'm almost frozen without my winter coat."

"Let's try to go over with Dr. Huntley in the Red Cross launch," proposed Jennie Crawford. "None of the soldiers of either army will fire at that."

When they reached Hanyang, they saw empty rickshaws along the river bank and many other signs of a hasty retreat. Before they reached their home, a man ran toward them.

"You must be ready to leave at a moment's notice," he cried. "The soldiers of the Emperor have taken the city again."

In the dining-room the teacups still stood on the table, but they did not stop to put them away. Hastily gathering a few garments, they hurried back to the boat.

Before the boat could pull out, the bullets were falling close beside them. Within half an hour a terrible battle was fought between the troops of the Emperor on the Hankow side of the river and those of the revolutionists on the other side. Nearer and nearer to the hospital came the bullets. One day the two nurses were awakened by the sound of shells directly over their heads. A bullet struck the wall of the room. Jennie Cody picked it up and with a smile that showed she was not afraid, put it away for a souvenir. The little Red Cross launches brought in more and yet more wounded soldiers until the nurses could scarcely step between the beds of straw. Again and again bullets fell near by, but none struck the Americans.

"That is because the bullets were made by foreigners," explained the Chinese. "They have eyes so they can see, and never hit the people who made them."

After the troops of the Emperor had captured Hanyang, they took Hankow and Wuchang. It seemed that the revolution had failed and that the yellow flag with its Manchu dragon would still float above China.

"Look at that man!" said Jennie Crawford one day. "He cut off his queue when he thought the revolutionists had won. Then when the soldiers of the Emperor recaptured the city, he was afraid they would cut off his head if they saw him without a queue, and he pinned one to his cap."

"Many men have done that," answered Jennie Cody. "When they think the soldiers of the Emperor are going to win, they let their queues hang down their backs; then if they think victory is going to the revolutionists, they tuck them up under their caps."

"The days may seem dark for the new republic, but even though the arsenal has been captured by the soldiers of the Emperor, good news comes from Shanghai and Nanking," said Jennie Crawford. "Everywhere the people are demanding that China shall be free. Shanghai has been taken by the revolutionists without any fighting and Nanking has already been made the capital of the new government."

Jennie Crawford's prophecy came true. When in 1912 New Year's Day came to China,—this time on January first by law,—Mr. Sun Yat-Sen was inaugurated as the first president of the great Chinghwa (Chinese) Republic, and the dragon flag came down. Instead, there floated a rainbow flag with stripes of five colors to represent the five peoples of China. There was a red stripe for the Chinese, a blue stripe for the Mongols, a white stripe for the Mohammedans, and a black stripe for the Tibetans. Instead of killing all the Manchu soldiers and the boy emperor, the new republic put a fifth stripe of yellow in its flag for the Manchu people who were to be a part of the new republic.

When the news reached the two nurses, Miss Crawford said to Miss Cody, "Now I can get back to my own hospital in Hanyang, to all the women and children who are waiting for me." But for many weeks they stayed to nurse the men who could not be moved.

One day they received a command from General Li Yuan Hung, vice-president of the new republic, to come to Wuchang, which was thronged with people from many nations, England, France, America, Germany, Russia, Italy, Japan, and Sweden. There the Vice-President presented to them bronze medals "in recognition of their bravery and self-sacrifice, in caring for the wounded during the revolution."

"I have almost forgotten the noise of battle and those days in the hospital," said Jennie Crawford as they went back to Hanyang. "But I can never forget that Chinese soldier who looked up at us one night as we tried to ease his pain, and said, 'You are like God to us.'

"'Oh, no,' I answered at once.

"'Well,' said he, as I smoothed his pillow of straw, 'you are the ones who make us know about God.'

"Now I can answer you that I'm still glad I came to China."

VIII

SIXTY-SIX DAYS WITH BANDITS

On a cold November morning a group of girls stood beside two mules in front of a house in Batang on the border of Tibet. Two were Americans, and the others, Tibetans.

"How long must you stay in America, Doris?" asked one of the Tibetan girls very sadly.

"If I study hard every day," answered Doris, "I can come back in ten years."

"That's not so bad," said another of the girls, "because, you see, if you will study night and day, you can get through and come back in five years."

"We must go," said Dorothy. "Father and Mother have gone on a half-hour ago."

There were tears in all eyes as Doris and Dorothy sprang into their saddles.

"Good-by! Good-by!" they called as the mules started forward.

Since they were babies, Doris and Dorothy Shelton had lived in Tibet, the land that is called "the roof of the world," because it is higher than any other country in the world. They had taken many trips, clinging to the backs of their mules as they went almost straight up on the rough mountain roads, but the journey on which they were starting now, as the sun rose from behind the snow-capped mountains, was to be the most thrilling of all.

They soon overtook their mother and father and the servants. In front of the party rode guards, for the country was full of robber bands. Then came six mule drivers driving the twenty-five mules that were loaded with tents, baggage, and food. Following the mule drivers Mrs. Shelton rode in a sedan chair fastened to two poles which rested on the shoulders of four carriers who wore fine, bright-red turbans and long robes of grey _pulu_ or wool, which were tied about the waist. In the party were Andru, Drashi, and Shen-si, the three servants who had helped to care for Doris and Dorothy since they were babies.

Last of all, on a mule strong enough to carry his two hundred and thirty pounds, rode Dr. Albert Shelton. Everyone in Batang knew "Big Doctor Shelton," and everyone loved him.

Seventeen years before this time, when he left the medical school in Kansas, he looked over a map of the world to find the place that needed a doctor most. There was not a town in Kansas that did not have a doctor in it or near to it, and in some of the towns there were many doctors.

"I should like to go to a place where there are no other doctors," he said.

"Well, then," said a friend, "go to Tibet. That is the place for you, because in all Tibet there is no doctor. But you may not get there alive. The Dalai Lama, who is the head of everything in Tibet, government and Buddhist Church, lives in Lhasa, the capital, and he will not let any Christian missionary or doctor come within the walls of his city. Some have tried to go, but most of them were killed."

The more Albert Shelton thought about the land without a doctor, the more he wished to go there. He talked to his young wife, and she wanted to go, too, so one day they took a steamer from San Francisco and crossed the Pacific Ocean to China where a boat carried them a thousand miles up the Yangtze River. Then they went still farther on a little Chinese house-boat pulled by thirty men who walked along the bank. After the house-boat had gone up the river for nearly two months, they stepped off on shore and rode on the backs of mules for seven hundred miles.

More than a year after they left Kansas, they reached the town of Tatsienlu on the border of Tibet. If they could have stuck a pin eight thousand miles long right through the earth, it would have come out not far from where they started. The nearest doctor was seven hundred miles away, so Dr. Shelton decided to live in Tatsienlu until he could find a way to get farther into the closed land of Tibet.

Doris and Dorothy were born at Tatsienlu, among mountains that rose more than twenty thousand feet above the level of the ocean, so high that they were covered with snow in July and August. They were used to the strange little "yaks,"—houses covered with goat's hair. They watched their father make brick and saw lumber and teach the men how to build houses like the one he had built for himself.

After five years Dr. Shelton was permitted to go farther inland to Batang to start a hospital. When the people heard of the "good doctor" who had come so far across the ocean, and who could do such wonderful things to make sick people well, they came from all over the country to see him. At first he had to use for his operating table a door laid across two tables. Then he and his friends sawed lumber and baked brick and built a hospital. For ten years he lived at Batang, and many thousands of people came there to be helped.

Then a wonderful thing happened—Dr. Shelton was to go into Lhasa, the capital of the land-without-a-doctor. The Dalai Lama had kept out all missionaries because he was afraid the people would discover that their idols were not true gods and would not give the priests any more money. But now the Dalai Lama himself gave Dr. Shelton permission to come.

Before going to Lhasa Dr. Shelton planned to take Mrs. Shelton and Doris and Dorothy to the port of Hongkong, from which they were to sail to America, where the girls were to go to school. It was on this journey that they were starting on this November morning.

Mrs. Shelton did not want to say good-by to the people of Batang, whom she loved, so she tried to slip away before daybreak. But as she and the doctor rode along, they found people lined up on either side of the road to bid them good-by. Many had left their homes the night before and had marched ahead so they could stand by the road and see their "big doctor" and his wife and children once more. An escort of twenty-five boys had been sent ahead. All the way from Batang to the Yangtze River, a journey of a day and a half, the people were gathered along the roadside.

For thirty-six days Doris and Dorothy rode on their mules. Then they were so tired, their father got chairs for them and they were carried by the servants.

One day as they were riding along, Dorothy said:

"Are you afraid of robbers, Doris? I heard Andru and Shen-si say that Yang Tien-fu, the leader of a dreadful band must be near by. He is very angry at the government. He used to be a colonel in the Chinese army, but they didn't pay his salary, so he got a band of men to join him, and they live out in the mountains. Andru said they stop all travelers and take pay from them."

"I'm not afraid," said Doris. "We have soldiers to guard us."

"I'm glad we are almost at Yunnanfu. Forty-seven days is a long time to ride. Father says we will be at Yunnanfu in just two and a half days."

Suddenly, as the mules came out from behind a bend in the road, they threw back their ears and stopped. The report of a pistol rang out.

"Robbers! Robbers!" shouted the soldiers.

Another pistol shot followed, and the robbers sprang down through the brush of the mountainside. There was a crashing of glass, as a bullet struck the thermos bottle by Mrs. Shelton's side.

"Robbers! Robbers!" shouted the four soldiers again. One shot off his gun; then all four ran back to the village.

Mrs. Shelton and the girls crept out of their chairs and slipped over the bank into the ditch below.

Bullets flew. The bandits surrounded Dr. Shelton; one drew a large pistol and another a great sword. Dr. Shelton saw there was no chance to escape, so he let them take from him his field-glasses, his camera, and everything else they wanted. Andru was seized and his knife and chop-sticks taken from his belt. Holding up Dr. Shelton by both arms, two of the bandits led him up the mountain to their chief. The others tried to get Mrs. Shelton to climb the bluff which rose straight before them, but she was not able. Then they tried to carry her, but they could not get up the steep, narrow path with a load.

Doris wore gloves, but little Dorothy's hands were bare. The robbers saw her rings and took them off her fingers. Dorothy loved those rings which had been given to her by her friends, and she began to cry. Doris had been very much frightened by the robbers, but when she saw one of them with Dorothy's rings, she forgot about herself and going up to the robber said:

"You give those rings back to Dorothy!"

The robber smiled at the girl who was so brave for her little sister and actually handed the rings back.

By this time the soldiers returned with other soldiers and rushed out to attack the robbers, who left Mrs. Shelton and Doris and Dorothy and began fighting to defend themselves. At once the two girls with their mother and the servants slipped back to the village.

Meanwhile Dr. Shelton was being hurried along up the mountainside to the robber chief. Taller and stronger than any of the men who stood about him was Yang Tien-fu. He looked with interest at the things his men had taken from the travelers and examined Dr. Shelton's camera and field-glasses.

"How can this picture-box make pictures?" he asked. "Now stop and make my picture."

Dr. Shelton snapped the kodak.

"Now take my picture out of the box and let me see it."

"There is no picture there yet," said Dr. Shelton.

Yang Tien-fu would not believe him and made him open the camera and spoil the first picture of a robber chief he had ever had a chance to take.

Dr. Shelton could look down to the valley and watch the battle between the bandits and the soldiers. He saw Mrs. Shelton's empty chair.

"Why do you want to take me as a prisoner?" he asked.

"Because I must have money," answered the bandit.

"I have no money," said Dr. Shelton.

"But your people will offer me a ransom. I have plenty of soldiers in my land, but they have little to fight with. I will tell your people that if they will send me fifty thousand dollars' worth of guns and powder and bullets I will release you. And that is not all. The government has taken my family and is keeping them as prisoners. I will tell them that if they will send my family back to me, I will send you back to them. Get on your mule, for we must travel far from here."

Over the rough, steep road of the mountain they rode for many hours. Not until the sun went down did they stop to rest and to wait for their companions. They built a fire and cooked rice. After they had eaten, they took out their long pipes and smoked opium. Dr. Shelton counted seventy-one men.

When those who had stayed to fight the soldiers overtook the band, Dr. Shelton saw that one man was shot through the ankle. He opened his saddle-bags and dressed the wound while Yang Tien-fu watched with interest. After resting a few hours they started to travel again.

For three days and nights Dr. Shelton did not take off his clothes or sleep. Sometimes he lay down on an old horse blanket, the only bed he had. Four robbers guarded him. They never took off the belts in which they carried their guns and cartridges. Dr. Shelton counted nineteen different kinds of guns and eight kinds of pistols, all of which had been taken from travelers.

Day after day the bandits traveled over the mountains. When they stopped, forty guards were sent in every direction, for Yang Tien-fu knew that the government had offered a reward of five thousand dollars to anyone who would capture him dead or alive.

Sometimes he divided his men, sending a party to march straight down over the steep mountainside to make a false trail, and often he stood on some high bluff and laughed as he watched the soldiers being led astray. Almost every day, and sometimes many times a day, the bandits would stop a company of travelers and take their money or go into a little village and rob the frightened people.

If the villagers gave them what they asked for, there was no fighting. Yang Tien-fu would go into the temple, which was the meeting place of the people, and send his men out to find one of the head men of the village. When he came in, the chief would say:

"We are not robbers. We are traveling to escort this great foreign official. He must have two hogs and ten bushels of rice."

Then the head men would look at Dr. Shelton with great respect and interest and start off to get all the things the great foreign official must have. Meanwhile Dr. Shelton tried to get them to understand that he was a prisoner. Often he had to smile at the cunning of the robber chief.

As they went along, Dr. Shelton saw many people who were sick and many whose eyes were sore or blind. He said to Yang Tien-fu, "I left America to help the sick people in Tibet. Since you are keeping me away from my hospital in Batang, you must let me have a hospital along the road."

So the chief waited while the doctor healed the sick. Many soldiers joined the band, and the doctor ministered to all who needed him.

One day the chief said, "You are an honest man. I want you to be one of my men and stay with us. These other fellows can't be trusted. Even our treasurer steals. Stay with us and be the pastor and the doctor for me and my men. I will pay you twelve thousand dollars a year and give you half of it right now."

Dr. Shelton chuckled. He wondered whether anyone else had ever been invited to be the pastor of a robber band.

Back in Yunnanfu Mrs. Shelton, Doris, and Dorothy waited. Every day the girls went to the gate of the city, hoping to see a runner coming with a message from their father.

"But, Doris," said Dorothy, "there is no chance for Father to escape. He is guarded all the time."

"The Bible says that Paul and Silas were sleeping right between guards, and God opened the doors of the prison," said Doris. "If we pray, God may open some door so Father can escape."