The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER II

  AMERICA'S UNFRIENDLY WELCOME

  In spite of Jo's weariness of the night before, and the sound sleepthat followed, he was out of bed by sunrise and gazing curiously fromhis chamber window. The air was sweet and cool, the arching elms stoodmotionless, as though not yet awake, and between them he caught asilvery gleam of the Connecticut. Beyond it rose soft, swelling hills,and he imagined their green slopes to be thickly strewn with graves,as always is the case in China; on them, too, he could see occasionalgroves of trees, each of which he supposed must shelter a white-walledtemple or sacred shrine, this being the prime object of groves in hisnative land.

  He wondered at not seeing any tall-sailed junks or guard-boats on theriver, and at the utter absence of the useless but picturesque pagodatowers that add so much to the beauty of every Chinese landscape.Then, remembering that America is a very new country in comparisonwith his own, he concluded that its people had not yet found time tobuild pagodas, or, perhaps, were too poor. Of course, he could trace noresemblance between the broad, well-shaded avenue below him, with itsrows of neat, white houses, and the narrow, crowded, shadeless streetsto which he was accustomed. At the same time, the green country onwhich he gazed looked so very like a bit of Chinese river valley thathe longed to explore it, with a hope of finding thatched farm-houses,curve-roofed temples, or other homelike features that should recall hisown beloved valley of the Si-Kiang. He listened with pleasure to thesinging of birds, which were infinitely more numerous than in China, andto the tinkle of cow-bells, a sound he never before had heard. He wishedhe might go down to the street and begin at once his study of the manystrange things it was certain to contain, and he wondered how soon aservant would appear in his room with the bowl of tea that would be thesignal for rising.

  While he thus was cogitating, he heard a door below him open and close,and then he saw his newly made friend, Rob Hinckley, go whistling downthe street, swinging in one hand a bright tin milk-can. If he only hadknown that Rob was up and going out, he might have gone, too. Perhapseven now he might overtake him and have a walk in his company. He wasdressed, and the only thing about him not thoroughly presentable was hisqueue, which, not yet cared for that morning, looked rough and unkempt.At home some one always had combed and braided it for him, first hismother, and afterwards a servant. Since coming away, one of his Chinesecompanions and he had braided each other's queues every morning. NowJo wondered who was to perform this service, but supposed that sooneror later some servant would come to his assistance. He wished the lazyfellow had appeared, and that this most important feature of his toilethad been attended to, for in China no gentleman will present himself onthe street or in company unless his queue is carefully braided smoothand glossy. Exposed to public view in any other condition, it is a signthat its owner is in such deep affliction that he takes no interest evenin the most important affairs of life.

  Having been carefully instructed in this branch of Chinese etiquette,Jo was puzzled as to what he should do. He longed to join Rob on hiswalk, but hesitated to offend his friend by appearing before him with adisordered queue. He could not put it in order himself, and no one wasat hand to assist him. Of course, he might conceal the fact that it wasfrowzy by coiling it about his head and hiding it beneath his cap; buteven this plan had its drawback, for in the Flowery Kingdom it is analmost unpardonable offence for any man to appear in the presence of hissuperiors with queue coiled about his head or in any other way hidden.Still, the only superiors recognized at present by Jo were the seniorHinckleys, and by going down-stairs very quietly he might slip out ofthe house without attracting their notice, and so avoid giving offence.

  Thus thinking, the lad hastily coiled his cherished but at that momentrather disreputable-looking queue closely about his head, pulled hiscap over it, and, softly opening his room door, stole forth with thenoiseless tread of a sneak-thief. He got safely as far as the frontdoor, but there he made so much noise fumbling with the unfamiliar latchas to attract the attention of Mr. Hinckley, who was dressing, and hecalled down, "Who's there?"

  Not understanding the question, and as dismayed at the prospect ofbeing discovered with his queue disrespectfully coiled as an Americanboy would be if caught stealing jam, Jo made no reply, but redoubledhis efforts at the door. Suddenly, as he was pulling it with all hisstrength, the latch turned and the door flew open, sending him to thefloor with a crash. Mrs. Hinckley screamed, and her husband, shouting"Stop thief!" started down-stairs. He failed, however, to reach thebottom in time to discover the author of the disturbance, for Jo,thoroughly, frightened by the untoward result of his efforts to enactthe part of a Chinese gentleman, had hastily scrambled to his feet andfled through the now wide-open door. Although the minister did notsee him, Mrs. Hinckley, peeping between the half-closed slats of thewindow-blinds, did, and exclaimed:

  "My good gracious, William! If it isn't that China boy!"

  "Nonsense," replied Mr. Hinckley, as, realizing the futility of a chaseunder existing conditions, he hastened back to the room.

  "I tell you it is, for I just saw him with my own eyes, blue dress andall, go flying down the street as though the constable was after him.I've no doubt he ought to be, too, for the boy's run away--that's whathe's done--and probably taken every mite of silver in the house withhim."

  "Nonsense!" again ejaculated Mr. Hinckley, as he slipped on a pair oftrousers.

  "You may say 'nonsense' as much as you like," retorted his wife, "butyou'll think something else when you find out that every word I'mspeaking is solemn truth. I always did mistrust the Chinese, and sowould you if you'd heard all the stories I have about their dreadfulwickedness down at the society."

  "Didn't know any of them belonged to the society," interposed Mr.Hinckley, unable even at this critical moment to resist a sly joke athis wife's expense.

  "You know what I mean, William Hinckley, just as well as I do," was thereply; "and I do think this is a pretty time to be poking fun at yourpoor wife, when a pig-tailed 'yellow peril,' as he is truly called, isrunning off with every mite of her own mother's family silver. It's nowonder we are trying to exclude them, and I only wish we'd succeededbefore this one ever came to Hatton. They do say down at the societythat the Chinese are about to overrun the world; and, from what I'vejust seen, I've no doubt it's true."

  "Of course, it must be so if _they_ say so, my dear," answeredthe minister, as he fastened his shirt-collar; "but I'll try someoverrunning myself after this first 'yellow peril' who has ever triedto overrun Hatton. As he is too conspicuous an object to run far withoutattracting attention, I expect to catch up with him very shortly, andto return with him inside of half an hour. Then I hope breakfast willbe ready, for both of us are certain to be extremely hungry after ourexercise."

  "Perhaps it will, if he's left a bit of food in the house to cook ora thing to cook with, which I doubt," retorted Mrs. Hinckley, as herhusband, now wholly dressed, again started towards the street. In themean time, Chinese Jo, quite unaware of the turmoil he had left behindhim, and only anxious to overtake Rob, whom he just could see far downthe street, had, as Mrs. Hinckley declared, set forth on a run in thatdirection. Also, as Mr. Hinckley had predicted, he was too strangelyconspicuous to run far without attracting attention. At first the fewpeople on the street at this early hour only stared at him, but after alittle they began to call and point at him, and boys began to pursue himwith joyous shouts of anticipated fun.

  All at once Jo discovered that Rob no longer was in sight, and also thata number of small boys, all yelling at the top of their voices, wererunning on both sides of him. Fearing lest he might pass the place wherehe had last seen his friend, and puzzled to account for his presentescort, the Chinese lad stopped and looked about him. He had reached thevillage common, on which half a dozen disreputable young ragamuffinswere playing an early game of toss-penny. These, discerning in hispresence a more exciting interest, promptly abandoned their game and ranwhooping towards him.

  Now, for the first tim
e, Jo began to feel nervous and wish that he hadnot ventured out among these barbarians unprotected. All the terriblestories he had heard concerning the cruel treatment of his countrymenby Americans surged into his memory and filled him with dismay. Neverbefore had he believed them, but now it seemed probable that some ofthem might be true.

  No Chinese is a fighter, either by nature or education, and Jo was notan exception to this rule. Thus he would have fled from his presentunhappy position had flight been possible, but it was not. He wascompletely encircled by his merciless tormentors, who, as they realizedhis utter helplessness, became more and more bold in their attacks. Atfirst they only hooted, jeered, and called him names. Then they beganto hustle and push him. At length one of them snatched off his cap andflung it to the ground, where it was trampled underfoot and kicked fromone to another. With the loss of his cap Jo's queue was uncoiled fromabout his head and dropped down his back. In this position it was caughtand jerked by one and another of the yelling mob until its wretchedowner was half crazed by pain and fright. Thus he was shoved and pulled,spun giddily round and round, pelted with mud, and repeatedly struckwith sticks or clinched fists. His blue gown was torn in many places,and his face was bleeding. Finally he slipped, failed in a convulsiveeffort to save himself, and fell, carrying to earth with him one of theyoung miscreants at whom he had clutched as he went down.

  Jo's fall was greeted by yells of delight from the imps who had causedit, but directly their jubilations were exchanged for howls of dismayand pain. At the critical moment an avenger had appeared among them, andhe was dealing furious blows at their unguarded bodies with a terrible,flashing weapon, that scattered them as chaff is scattered by a fiercewind.