Munroe Kirk
The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

CHAPTER XXI
THE REFUGEES OF CHENG-TING-FU

The malady with which Dr. Mason Hinckley had lain critically ill at Wu-Hsing was of so strange a nature that, directly after the cablegram calling Rob to his supposed death-bed was sent, it took a surprising turn for the better. As he longed for a change of air and scene, and felt that with them a full recovery of health might be effected, he decided to resign his position at Wu-Hsing and, with his wife, travel as far as Nagasaki. There they would meet the steamer on which, as they had been notified by cable from America, Rob was coming to them, and the reunited family would spend together a delightful holiday on the lovely Japanese coast.

So they set forth full of hopeful anticipations, and travelled down the Si-Kiang to Hong-Kong, where they were so fortunate as to find the China on the point of sailing for San Francisco by way of Nagasaki. At Hong-Kong they told an acquaintance who assisted the invalid to a carriage that they were going to Japan to meet an American steamer; but in the confusion of the moment he understood them to say that they were going to America, and so reported to Mr. Bishop, who, in turn, repeated the story to Rob a few weeks later.

In the mean time, the doctor and his wife journeyed to Nagasaki, the former so gaining strength with every mile of the voyage that upon reaching Japan he deemed himself to be practically a well man. Thus they were prepared to give Rob a most joyful surprise; but when, only three days after their own arrival, the Occidental steamed into Nagasaki harbor, they were met by the bitter disappointment of finding that their boy was not on board. From the purser, as well as from the gentleman who had taken Rob's cabin, they learned that somehow he had missed connection and had been left behind. After that the anxious parents waited in Nagasaki a month, boarding every incoming ship from the States, but without finding their boy or hearing a word from him. They had written to Hatton immediately upon their arrival, and finally from there came the cable message, "Rob, transport, Manila."

What could it mean? Why had their boy gone to Manila? Where would he go from there? Where was he now? How in the world did he happen to be on board a transport? Had he enlisted in the army? These and a thousand other equally puzzling questions presented themselves, but no one of them was accompanied by an answer. They had received news of the murder of missionaries at Wu-Hsing. Could Rob have reached there in time to become involved in the trouble? If so, was he alive or dead? They no longer could remain in Japan, but must return to China where news might more readily be obtained. So they sailed for Shanghai, from which place they sent letters of inquiry to Manila, Wu-Hsing, Hong-Kong, and Canton.

Then ensued another month of anxious waiting, during which Dr. Hinckley, now restored to perfect health, received from Pekin a fine offer to become missionary medical director for the province of Shan-Si. It was an offer that he gladly would have accepted but for his uncertainty concerning Rob.

At length came a letter from Canton informing the anxious parents that their boy had been there a month earlier, but almost immediately had joined an expedition that was to traverse the interior from that point to Pekin in the interests of an American railway syndicate.

Again did the puzzled parents ask each other questions concerning the erratic movements of their son that neither could answer. Finally, Dr. Hinckley said:

"It is useless to worry ourselves any more about the boy, since it is evident that he has passed entirely beyond our reach. He is in God's hands, and that there is some good reason for the apparent strangeness of his actions will sooner or later be made plain. Let us be thankful that he is alive and in the same country as ourselves. Also, we now can accept that offer from Pekin, where, as it seems, we are most likely to meet him."

So the bewildered but still hopeful parents took steamer from Shanghai to Tien-Tsin and rail from there to China's capital, at that time a wonderland of mystery to the greater part of the outside world. From Pekin they travelled south to Cheng-Ting-Fu, which then was the extreme terminus of railway construction, and here Dr. Hinckley left his wife, while he should go on by horseback to Tai-Yuan, the capital of Shan-Si, and prepare their new home.

Then, almost without warning, came the terrible Boxer uprising, sweeping over the northern provinces with the fatal speed of a storm-driven prairie-fire. From every direction were heard reports of murder and outrage – some of them simple relations of actual happenings, others gross exaggerations based upon fact, and still others pure inventions, but all equally terrifying to the handful of foreigners within the walls of Cheng-Ting-Fu. A little later refugees, bearing evidence of the terrible sufferings through which they had passed, began to straggle in. Some told of the beheadings and burnings to death in Pao-Ting-Fu on the north, and others of the frightful tragedies enacted in Shan-Si on the west, by orders of the infamous governor, Yu-Hsien, credited with being the originator of the Great Sword Society, and who was the most vindictive hater of foreigners in all China. The Shan-Si refugees reported that one day in Tai-Yuan this monster personally superintended the beheading of forty-five foreigners, men, women, and little children, besides a much larger number of native Christians; and on hearing this, Mrs. Hinckley lost all hope of ever again seeing the husband who had gone to prepare a home for her in that very city. Also, she mourned for her boy, who, if he had carried out his reported intention of traversing the interior provinces to Pekin, must have been overtaken by this same all-devouring storm of wrath.

Although the southern end of the railway as far as Pao-Ting-Fu was kept open by the Chinese for the transportation of their own troops, it was reported that everything north of that point, including the telegraph-line, had been destroyed. Thus Cheng-Ting-Fu, with closed gate and surrounded by enemies, was cut off from all news of the outside world. Only rumors drifted in, and these were of such a nature that the handful of refugees facing an almost certain death in the cathedral believed themselves to be the only foreigners left alive in northern China.

Such was the state of affairs on that evening of early summer when Mrs. Hinckley, hopelessly weary of life, happened to glance from one of the cathedral windows just as a yellow-robed priest was passing along the narrow street. She turned quickly away, for, of all Chinese, the priests had been most active in persecuting foreigners, and she never saw one without thinking that he might be the murderer of either her husband or son.

An hour later the "boy" who brought in her light supper of tea and toast laid something else on the tray beside it, and disappeared without having spoken. For a minute Mrs. Hinckley did not notice the strange object, but finally it caught her eye, and she picked it up. It was a narrow strip about six inches long, cut from the dried leaf of a talipot palm, the material used instead of writing-paper in certain Buddhist temples. Characters traced on the smooth surface with a sharp stylus, afterwards are rubbed with lampblack, which brings them out in bold relief. In the present case, to Mrs. Hinckley's amazement, she found the strip of palm-leaf to be a letter written in English, and beginning, "My own dear mother!"

The poor woman uttered a stifled cry, and a blur so dimmed her eyes that for a moment she could read no more. Then it passed, and she eagerly scanned the following message, written on both sides of the slip:

"I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you at the cathedral window. How did you get here? Where is father? I am the priest who rode past on horseback with a guard of soldiers. Am safe and on way to Pekin. They will not let me come to you, nor even leave this temple where I am spending the night under guard. I must go on at sunrise, when they will put us out of the city. Jo is with me. Perhaps I shall again pass window, so please stand in same place on chance. I will come back to you from Pekin quick as possible. Don't worry a single little bit about me, for I am all right. Your own loving Rob.

"Send an answer by the one who gives you this."

Over and over did the happy mother read this message from the boy whom she had been mourning as dead, until she knew every word of it by heart.

Then, on a leaf torn from her journal, she wrote with lead-pencil an outpouring of love, joy, and anxiety such as only a mother situated as she was could write. She begged Rob to be careful, for her sake, and warned him of the danger of going to Pekin, though she added that if his father still were alive that city would be the most likely place in which to obtain news of him. She said she should remain near the window all night for fear of missing her boy when he again passed. Then the servant came for the untouched tea-tray, looked at her inquiringly, and she only had time to sign: "Ever your own devoted mother," fold the note, and slip it into his hand ere he again left the room.

The shock of seeing his mother in that dreadful place, when he had supposed her to be safe in America, was so great that Rob had been on the point of proclaiming his amazement aloud, when Jo, always keenly on the watch for some such slip on the part of the pretended priest, checked him.

"It is but a little more to go," he said in Chinese, so that all who heard might understand him, "and then the holy one shall find a place of rest. He is very weary," added Jo to the officer of the guard, "and his vow of silence sits heavy upon him."

"Yet he does not look so old," replied the officer.

"It is true that he is well preserved, and may give us the joy of his presence for some years to come; but mere looks cannot restore to age the lost strength of youth. I pray you, therefore, find for him a place of quietness, where he may have a season of rest undisturbed."

Thus it came about that a small building of the temple to which our lads were conducted was set apart for them, and orders were given that no other person should enter it that night.

When they were alone, and Rob had explained to Jo the cause of his excitement, he added: "And now I must go to her for a long talk."

It took Jo some time to persuade his friend of the impossibility of what he proposed, and that to attempt it would only endanger all their lives, including that of his mother.

"Then," said Rob, finally convinced, "I must write, and you must somehow manage to get the letter to her."

The letter was prepared with the only materials that the temple afforded, and by the liberal use of money Jo got it sent to its destination and had the answer brought back. After that, much as Rob hated to leave his mother behind, he had the sense to realize that she probably was safer in the cathedral of Cheng-Ting-Fu just then than she would be anywhere else in north China. Also, what she had written concerning the possibility of gaining news of his father in Pekin made him more than ever desirous of reaching that city.

Jo warned him against the danger of allowing any sign of recognition to escape him in case he again saw his mother; so he was able to gaze calmly at her the next morning when they once more were escorted past the cathedral, and she stood at the same window watching eagerly for him to pass. She, too, realized the danger to him of any show of interest on the part of a foreigner; and no one could have guessed from their faces, as they exchanged farewell glances, that thus a mother and son, with a full knowledge of the perils besetting both, were parting, perhaps forever.

CHAPTER XXII
A CHARGE AND A RACE FOR LIFE

There is but one gateway to the walled city of Cheng-Ting-Fu, and this opens on the west. Consequently, it was on this side that most of the Boxer rabble, who longed for an opportunity to loot the valuable mission property within its walls, were gathered. Their object was to starve the stubborn city into submission, and they watched always for the opening of its gate in token of surrender. If our lads had been willing to leave their ponies in the city, they could have been let down from the wall on an opposite side and made good their escape on foot. This, however, they would not do, for without horses the long journey still before them, through a region swarming with footpads, was practically impossible. So they issued from the wicket, which instantly was closed behind them, sprang into their saddles, and turned northward, hoping to ride for some distance unnoticed in the shadow of the lofty wall.

But this hope was doomed to a quick disappointment, for almost instantly they were discovered, and a crowd of men were seen running so as to head them off.

"We've got to ride through them," said Rob, "and shoot down any one who tries to stop us. I will go first, and do you follow close. Don't fire a shot until my pistol is empty; then I'll drop behind and reload while you clear the way. It's our only show for life, Jo. Come on!"

With this Rob wheeled his pony and dashed at full speed straight at the swarming encampment, with Jo close at his heels. It was a glorious charge, that of two against a thousand, but it could not have lasted a minute had the latter been anything save a wretched rabble, unprovided with fire-arms and without leaders. As it was, they were scattered like chaff by the madly racing ponies, the few who attempted interference were shot down, and three minutes later our lads, still yelling with excitement, drove through the last of their enemies and found themselves safe on the open plain.

"After that experience I would undertake to ride through the whole Chinese army with twenty American cow-boys," boasted Rob, as he reined his panting steed down to a walk.

"Of course, it might be done," answered Jo, quietly, "only it would be well to consider that an army is made up of soldiers provided with guns, and that even a Chinese bullet sometimes finds its mark."

"I beg your pardon, old fellow! It was a mean thing to say," cried Rob, contritely. "I ought to be ashamed of myself, especially when I remember how splendidly one Chinese, by the name of Jo Lee, rode through that howling mob only a few minutes ago. But Americans can't help bragging, you know, and I surely am an American."

"If they do brag," replied Jo, "it is because they have so much to brag of, while my poor country has so little."

"Your country has a history older than that of any other nation on earth," said Rob, consolingly; "and you invented more than half the things that go to making the civilization of the world, such as the compass, and printing, and gunpowder, and ever so many more; for I remember our history teacher telling us about them. He said the civilization that started in China thousands of years ago had been spreading westward from this country ever since: first over Asia, then over Europe, and finally over America. 'At length,' he said, 'the great wave of enlightenment has swept across the Pacific, and again is making itself felt on the coasts of Asia. Japan already is uplifted by the flood, and China, now at the lowest ebb of her fortunes, will soon feel the life-giving influence of the rising tide.'

"I remember it particularly," continued Rob, "because, of course, I always was interested in everything about China; but I never realized just what he meant until I came back and saw what a splendid country this has been and what a splendid country it could be again. Why, Mr. Bishop said that China's wealth of coal and iron alone is sufficient to make her one of the greatest nations of the world."

"I expect your teacher was right when he said that China was at the lowest point of her fortunes," remarked Jo. "I don't see how she could very well sink any lower, and she will stay down just so long as the Empress Dowager lives and rules the country. She hates foreigners, and is bitterly opposed to progress, reformers, and changes of any kind. It is certain that she is encouraging and helping on this Boxer uprising, for if she wanted to she could have it put down and stamped out within a week. I told you of my orders not to interfere with them, no matter what they did, and while we were charging through that encampment just now I caught sight of a Boxer banner on which was written: 'By Official Decree: Exterminate Foreigners.' They never would dare display such a flag if they didn't really have official backing, and in China to-day the only 'official' whose word is law is the Empress Dowager."

"I don't see how you found time to read what was on a flag," said Rob, "or even to notice it. I didn't see a thing except the crowd, that looked like so many wolves snarling at us, and especially those who tried to stop us. If it hadn't been for our pistols they would have got us sure. I only hope we didn't kill any of them."

"Why?" asked Jo. "They were trying to kill us, and if we don't look out," he added, sharply, "they will do it yet."

Thus saying, he pointed over his shoulder to a rapidly advancing cloud of dust, moving from the direction of the Boxer encampment they had so recently charged. The dust-cloud hung above a road that ran parallel to the direction they were taking. In fact, it was the road over which they now would be riding had the bare fields that they had chosen instead been covered with their usual crops. That they could not see the horsemen raising the dust was because the highway along which the latter were moving was a "low-way," worn by generations of travel, scoured by floods in winter and swept by the strong winds of summer until it was many feet below the level of the adjoining land.

Jo was convinced that the dust-cloud was raised by horsemen, because of its volume and its rapid advance. That they were enemies was almost certain, since they came from the direction of the angry encampment; and he believed them to be endeavoring to cut off Rob and himself, because otherwise they, too, would be riding across the open fields instead of ploughing through the smothering dust of the gully-like road.

Our lads had allowed their ponies to walk for the last mile or so, but now they urged them forward at a brisk "lope," for they were determined that no man nor body of men from that encampment should get in advance of them if they could help it. Every few seconds one or the other of them glanced over his shoulder at the dust-cloud, to see if they were gaining on it, and finally Rob uttered a shout of: "Here they come, helter-skelter, and enough of them to eat us alive if they catch us! Now we've got to make time. Great Scott! They've got guns, too!"

The horsemen, having discovered that their object was suspected and that their prey was likely to escape, had left the sunken road and now were streaming across the fields in open and hot pursuit. Also, just as Rob glanced back, one of them fired a shot, though where the bullet went to, no one knows. Certainly, it did no harm to our friends, but the shot itself filled them with dismay, as it showed their present pursuers to be better armed than any of the vagrant bands they yet had encountered.

"I believe they are imperial cavalry!" exclaimed Jo. "Yes, I am sure of it," he added, a moment later, as he detected a triangular, yellow pennon fluttering from a lance borne by one of the pursuing horsemen. "They must have been sent out from the city and must have some reason for suspecting us. I wonder if it has become known that we communicated with your mother? That would be a sufficient cause for beheading us both if we are caught, so we must not be."

"I won't be!" declared Rob, clinching his teeth and urging his pony to greater effort. "I'll die first!"

On they swept, mile after mile, over the parched land and under a blazing sun. How they longed for rest and water and shade and coolness; but none of those things were for them so long as that deadly pursuit was kept up. It did not seem to gain on them, but neither did it lose ground. To be sure, some of the cavalry-men straggled, so that they came on in a long, irregular line, but a group of half a dozen leaders kept well together.

A river came into view, and Rob wondered what would happen when they reached it. He began to think he didn't much care so long as he could get a drink of its water. All at once he almost jumped from his saddle, for from beyond the river came a sound both startling and familiar, such as he had not heard since leaving America. At Cheng-Ting-Fu he had seen the torn-up track of the recently constructed railway, but he had forgotten it, as he also had the fact that a portion of it, somewhere to the northward, still was in working order. Thus, for a moment, he could hardly believe to be real the sound that came echoing across the Hsuho. It was the sharp whistle of a locomotive calling for brakes, and as our lads plunged down the steep river-bank they saw a train of open "gondolas" slowly backing towards the stream on the opposite side. They also saw a crowd of people evidently awaiting its coming.

For half a mile they forced their nearly spent ponies across the sand and gravel of the dry river-bottom. Then appeared a channel so shallow as easily to be forded. Directly from this rose the steep farther bank, and in an effort to climb it Rob's exhausted steed fell and rolled to the bottom, while Jo's pony refused even to attempt the ascent.

Rob disentangled himself from the struggling beast, and gained his feet, bruised but sound in limb. As he stood up a yell of triumph came from across the narrow water, and a quick glance showed that the pursuing Chinese cavalry-men were close at hand. At this same moment Jo sprang from his exhausted pony.

"We must run," he cried, "and mix with the people on the bank. Perhaps we can hide in one of the cars."

So the lads, one still in the yellow robes of a priest, and the other in the dark-blue blouse with red facings, full trousers, and short boots of imperial troops, dashed up the bank together and ran towards a throng of soldiers now crowding aboard the cars, as though they, too, sought passage on the train.

As they began to push their way into the crowd, one of the soldiers, staring hard at Rob, uttered an ejaculation that caused Jo to turn and look at his friend with sudden dismay. In the haste of leaving their ponies and running for the train he had not noticed that Rob had lost both his priestly head-covering and the great, shell-rimmed spectacles that had proved so complete a disguise. Now, without them, though he still was tinted yellow and robed as a priest, there was no mistaking him for anything but a foreigner, and "fan kwei" (foreign devil) was what the soldier had just called him.

Others, attracted by the man's exclamation, were turning to look, and at the same moment came a loud shouting from the rear. Those who had chased our lads so persistently all that morning were close at hand.

For an instant Jo's heart sank like lead and he believed they were lost. Then like a flash came a thought of one thing that they still might do.