Stan Lynn: A Boy's Adventures in China

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  "COME CUTTEE HEAD OFF."

  The night's rest had chased away all the dull feelings that had troubledStan, and he woke up bright, elastic, and eager for the adventures ofthe day. Look where he would on either shore, everything wasattractive. The country was highly cultivated, and dotted with farmsand dwellings belonging to what seemed to be a large and peaceablepopulation.

  But his wondering gaze was soon checked by Wing, who came out of thecabin smiling, with the announcement that "bleakfas'" was ready--anannouncement as pleasant in the confines of Asia as in homely Britain;and, to the lad's delight, he found everything quite as civilised andgood.

  Wing played the part of body-servant as ably as that of agent at the_hong_; and after the meal was over, and the lad had returned outside towatch the glorious panorama spread on either side of the river, hisguide came deprecatingly behind him rubbing his hands.

  "Young Lynn wantee Wing?" he asked.

  "Yes; tell me," said Stan, "how far have we to go up the river?"

  "Velly long way," replied the Chinaman, holding up his left hand withthe digits spread out, and using his right index-finger for a pointer ashe counted, "One, two, flee, fow, fi'. Plap sick if wind no blow."

  "And is it all beautiful?"

  "Yes; allee velly beautiful. Wing countly velly fine place."

  "But are we going to sail right on up the river like this?" asked Stan.

  "Yes. 'Top many time. Buy cake--buy egg--buy fluit--buy duck--buychicken--buy lil pig. Plenty good to eat. Got lice, tea, suga'. Youlikee have gun shoot duck?"

  "No," said Stan; "there's too much to look at without bothering about agun."

  "You likee ketchee fishee? Boy get line leady, put bait hook, youngLynn ketchee fish? Velly good eat."

  "Not to-day," replied Stan. "I want to use my eyes."

  "Yes; velly good. Young Lynn use long eyes."

  And before the lad had half-grasped the man's meaning, Wing had shuffledback into the cabin, to return directly with his young master's blackleather binocular-case.

  "Wing load long eyes--nocklah--leady to shoot?"

  "Not yet," said Stan, smiling, as he took the case, and then seatedhimself in a squeaking cane chair placed ready for his use, and sat backto continue watching what at times looked to him like so muchbeautifully painted china on a large scale.

  Finding that his services were not required, Wing settled himself downupon a stool just inside the cabin entrance, and at once became busywithout attracting his young master's notice, till the boat came abreastof a beautifully shaped pagoda, evidently built with blue and whitetiles, and having a marvellously striking effect in the bright sunshine,as it rose from a verdant gorge half-way up a rugged mountain-side whoseslope ran steeply down to the river, which bathed its rocky foot.

  "What a landmark!" thought Stan. "If one were lost, how easy it wouldbe to look out for that tall temple and make for it!"

  The glittering tiers of glazed earthenware rose one above the other,each with its wavy, puckered eaves and points bearing little bells, thetopmost stories looking as if the builders had possessed ambitious ideasof making the highest pinnacle pierce the soft blue sky; and as thenew-comer kept his admiring eyes fixed upon the beautiful work, the boatglided on, forcing him to turn his head a little more and a little more,till it was wrenched round so much that Wing began to appear at theleft-hand corners of his eyes, and interested the lad so much by thebusy interest he took in his work that Stan's gaze became graduallytransferred from the temple to the man, who went on with what he wasabout in profound ignorance of being observed.

  It was something fresh to Stan, who more than ever realised the factthat, in spite of being heavy and plain of feature, Wing was a bit of abuck in his way, and one who took great pains to impress upon the commoncoolies with whom he came in contact that he belonged to a higher gradeof native--one of a class who never dreamed of defiling their hands withhard work, and kept up at great trouble by many signs, in the shape offinger-nails, of their being head and not hand craftsmen.

  When Stan first caught sight of him, Wing was very carefully taking offwhat looked like a wooden thimble, which had been formed by scraping andfiling down a suitable portion of a joint of bamboo; and as thisthimble-like piece was removed, the man again laid bare a long, curvedfinger-nail, whose point, carefully polished and smoothed, was quite aninch above the quick, and evidently "still growing."

  "What silly nonsense!" thought Stan. "What an absurd idea! Why, if hecaught that nail in anything it would break down and become a painfulhang-nail."

  But it soon became evident that Wing did not mean to break down thatnail, for after a certain amount of scraping and polishing it wascarefully covered with its thimble-like sheath, before the index-fingeron his left hand was uncovered to go through the same process as itsfellow.

  As Stan watched he became aware of the fact that the left middlefinger-nail had met with a mishap, having in all probability been brokenright down, and was now being nursed up again to an aristocratic height.

  All at once the man raised his eyes as if to see how his young masterwas getting on, and started as he saw that he was being watched.

  "Are we likely to see any pirates up the river here?" said Stan quietly.

  The man shook his head.

  "Wing no tell," he said gravely as he began to cover up his much-pettednails. "Plaps many bad man--plaps not none 'tall. Plenty pilateevely-wheah. Plenty bad soljee. Wing hope nevah see none no mo'.Velly glad leave boat and begin walk back. Plenty pilate on livah;plenty bad soljee way flom livah."

  "Then the discharged soldiers are worse than the pirates, Wing?" saidStan, smiling.

  "Not laugh at," said the man solemnly. "Allee dleadful bad man. Killeepeople and takee evely-thing away. Lun fass?"

  "What do you mean--can I run fast?"

  "Yes; lun velly fass?"

  "Yes; I think so. Do you think we shall have to run away from some ofthese men?"

  "Yes. Lun away and hide."

  "Oh, I suppose I could run well enough," replied Stan; "but of course Idon't want to."

  "No; Wing don't want lun away, but pilate--soljee makee him. Vellyfass; come cuttee head off."

  "This is pleasant!" thought Stan. "It sounds like jumping out of thefrying-pan into the fire."

  The consequence of this conversation was that whenever Stan could tearhis eyes from the beauty and novelty of the shore on either side he wasnarrowly scanning the various vessels which came into sight, the greaterpart being small sailing-boats. But every now and then in the course ofthe day the tall matting sails of some towering junk would come glidinground a bend, partially hidden, perhaps, by the trees which fringed thebanks; and as soon as this was seen, Stan noted that there was a littlestir among the quiet, placid-looking boatmen, who began to whisper amongthemselves. Then, if Wing had not seen the stranger, one of them movedto where he stood and drew his attention to the distant object.

  The guide seemed to be gifted with wonderfully powerful sight, which hegenerally used with the result that every man was placed at his ease atonce. But not always. To use a nautical phrase, Wing was not uponevery occasion satisfied with the cut of the stranger's jib, and uponthese occasions he turned to his young master.

  "Young Lynn lettee Wing look flou' double eyeglass?"

  The binocular was handed at once, and after a great deal of focussing,handed back.

  "No pilate. Tea-boat. Allee good man."

  Or he might speak with a greater tone of reverence as he shaded hiseyes:

  "Big junk muchee fullee silk. Wing think junk go down whalf see MistehBlunt."

  "Not enemies, then?" said Stan.

  "No; velly good fliend."

  "But there are the big eyes painted on each side of the bows."

  "Yes," said Wing, smiling; "but good boat. No cally stink-pot to flowon boat and set fi'. No big bang gong and lot fighting-man all ovah.No. That velly good boat, and not hu't people.
Wing tell when he seesbad boat. Lun away then."

  "On shore?"

  "Tly go down livah get away. Pilate come too fass. Lun to side and golight away."

  "But what will become of the boat?" asked Stan.

  "Pilate send man. Take allee good thing. Set fi'."

  "Mr Blunt would not like that."

  "No. Velly angly. Kick up big low and say Wing gleat fool."

  "And what would you say?" asked Stan. "Say velly solly. Gleat pitylose nice topside boat b'long Blunt."

  "Of course."

  "But much gleat pity let pilate man choppee off Wing head and all menhead. Can makee nicee boat again; can'tee makee velly good boatman."

  Stan agreed that this was a perfectly sound argument, and during therest of the little voyage up the river he always felt greatly relievedwhen his guide was able to announce that the boats they passed were menof peace and not men-o'-war.

  But as day succeeded day in lovely weather, and the journey continuedthrough a glorious country, the bugbear pirates died out of the lad'sthoughts; and on the last evening, when Wing announced that they wouldland at a big city in the morning, and leave the boat to go back to the_hong_, Stan was ready to believe that his guide had been playingalarmist a great deal more than was necessary, and told him so. ButWing shook his head. "No," he said; "pilate velly bad sometime."

  "But we shall find the land journey no worse--there will be nodischarged soldiers wandering about ready to interfere with us?"

  "Wing hope allee gone, but can'tee tell. Plenty fliend people heah.Tell Wing when soljee come. Young Lynn and Wing lun away."