The Stone Dragon

by Peter Watt

  ‘Please take a chair,’ Sir Claude said, waving to a comfortable cane chair with a high back a short distance from his desk.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Robert replied after snapping his best salute. He could see from the worried expression on his normally impassive face that Britain’s representative to China had much on his mind.

  ‘I have been informed that you have been carrying out your duties in a very satisfactory manner, Mr Mumford,’ Sir Claude said, clearing his throat. ‘As a former soldier myself I would have been pleased to have you on my staff back in Egypt.’

  Robert wondered with some trepidation what was coming next. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he answered dutifully.

  ‘I am satisfied that the arrival of the international force has impressed on those damned Boxers that we mean business and I am sure the situation will right itself. We now have a wholesome calm over the city with the further arrival of the Germans and Austrians from Tientsin and I am confident enough to support my views by sending my two young daughters to the Western Hills in the care of my sister-in-law, Miss Armstrong,’ Sir Claude continued.

  Robert hid his frown; what Sir Claude had failed to mention was that he had sent his two daughters, Stella and Ivy, with a British marine guard to the Western Hills. Robert knew of this as he had been partly involved in briefing the men before their departure. So, Sir Claude was not that confident after all.

  ‘However, I also realise that the rebels have not left the city and the Empress seems to be vacillating in her loyalties towards us. I expect that it will be some time before the Boxer devils pack up and leave so I am giving you the mission of collecting intelligence on what these damned rebels are up to. In your task you will be able to requisition any persons you deem necessary to collect information to those ends, as you are acting directly on my behalf. You will submit a daily report to my secretary, young Hubert. Do you have any questions, Mr Mumford?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Robert replied without hesitation. Already he had calculated such a mission allowed him the scope to also search for Naomi – although Sir Claude did not know he had given his blessing to this.

  ‘Well, if there is nothing else, Mr Mumford, you may take your leave,’ Sir Claude said, concluding their brief meeting.

  Robert rose to his feet, saluted Sir Claude and left the room.

  He knew his first meeting would be with Dr George Morrison, who had opted to take up residence outside the grounds of the cloistered foreign delegations in a Chinese quarter of Pekin. As far as Robert was concerned what Morrison did not know about the situation they were currently in was not worth knowing. He would also call on the Australian for help in providing one of his Chinese staff as an interpreter and guide.

  Robert was fortunate in finding Morrison at home and was ushered into his modest but comfortable residence by one of the servants. Morrison rose from a wicker chair to greet the British army officer.

  ‘Ah, it is grand to see you, old chap,’ he said, accepting Robert’s extended hand.

  ‘You, too, Dr Morrison,’ Robert replied warmly. ‘I have heard of your brave rescue of Mr Squiers’ family.’

  Morrison looked pleased but modestly waved off the compliment. ‘No doubt Miss Condit Smith has embellished the escapade somewhat,’ he said. ‘A charming young lady, but a bit plump and gushing for my tastes.’

  ‘I admit I did hear of the rescue from Miss Condit Smith when I was reporting to Lieutenant Simpson over at the Yankee legation on the fate of his stone dragon,’ Robert said, removing his cap and placing it under his arm. ‘It now seems that the fossil is mine. Mr Hoover’s staff were in a bit of a hurry to leave Tientsin when I was there and had no interest in fossils. Ore samples were more in their line.’

  ‘It’s a bit early but would you like a drink?’ Morrison offered. ‘Gin? Whisky?’

  ‘Your offer is tempting but I do not have a lot of time and have called on you with motives other than your largesse,’ Robert said. ‘I am currently working under Sir Claude’s direct command and he has commissioned me to do a little bit of intelligence gathering.’

  ‘So, we are both in the same business,’ Morrison snorted in his amusement. ‘But it will be wasted on a half-educated, unread former infantry major,’ the Australian said, causing Robert to shift uneasily at the correspondent’s views of the British Foreign Office appointment to Pekin. Although on speaking terms, neither Morrison nor Sir Claude liked the other.

  ‘I have to confess, Dr Morrison, that my first priority is to locate the whereabouts of Miss Wong,’ Robert said. ‘Along the way I shall honour my commission to gather intelligence on the current situation.’

  At the mention of Naomi’s name, Morrison glanced away, avoiding Robert’s gaze. ‘I am afraid that information has come to me through my Chinese sources that in an incident about two days ago Miss Wong’s Sikh bodyguard and the Chinese family she was staying with were found butchered in a street not far from the legation. It seems that they were attempting to reach safety when they were ambushed by the Boxers.’

  Robert paled and for a moment felt as if he might faint. Quickly recovering, he asked, ‘Was Miss Wong’s body among those found?’

  At this question Morrison looked even more troubled. ‘It was not but I was further informed she was last seen being dragged away. It seems that she was not dead at the time otherwise the Boxers would have left her. If that is the case I am afraid her fate is sealed,’ he said quietly, noticing the British officer’s barely concealed distress. ‘Let us hope her death was relatively quick and painless. I was under the impression that you already knew these facts before you came here. It is common talk among my sources.’

  ‘You well know the blundering incompetence of our own diplomatic intelligence,’ Robert replied bitterly. ‘No doubt in a week they will make a report on her death as she was a British subject – despite being of the Chinese race. From what I knew of Miss Wong her father is a man of considerable influence in the colony of Queensland.’

  ‘I am sorry, Robert,’ George said gently. ‘I did not wish to be the conveyor of such news to you, as I know of your great fondness for the young lady.’

  ‘Still,’ Robert said, lifting his chin, ‘I will carry out my search for her. There may be a chance that she is still alive in the hands of the rebels. At worst, I shall endeavour to recover her body so that she may receive a funeral fit for a good Christian woman.’

  ‘If there is anything I can do to help,’ Morrison said, offering his hand, ‘do not hesitate to ask.’

  ‘Yes, there is something,’ Robert answered. ‘I could do with one of your people who can act as a translator and who knows the city.’

  ‘Kai will be your man,’ Morrison said. ‘His grasp of English is excellent and he knows the city like the back of his hand. I will give him orders to accompany you. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  Robert shook his head, replaced his cap, thanked George Morrison and was led to meet Kai, a wiry Chinese man of indeterminate age although Robert guessed him to be in his forties. The long pigtail down his back was streaked with grey and his wizened face acorn-brown from a hard life.

  Morrison instructed Kai that he was to provide all assistance to the English officer. The man nodded vigorously, following Robert from the Australian’s house. All Robert had to do now was requisition a small contingent of wellarmed Royal Marines to accompany him on his foray into the city in search of information but mostly in search of Naomi.

  As the day drew on it seemed to Naomi the soldiers had lost interest in the pitiful huddle of young girls in the courtyard. From what she could glean of her captors she was in a transit place for the Boxers. The rebel she knew as Han appeared to be in command and ensured that one of his men always stood guard over the cowering girls.

  Meili remained by Naomi’s side and nursed both her body and spirit throughout what seemed the longest day of Naomi’s life.

  ‘We should escape from here,’ Meili whispered to Naomi, whose spirit had not yet recovered e
nough to consider such an attempt. ‘The guards have not bound us and the darkness will be our friend.’

  ‘Escape,’ Naomi echoed in a dull voice. ‘Where to?’

  ‘Away from here is better than what they will eventually do to us,’ Meili responded, staring at the young guard leaning against the wall of the courtyard and showing little interest in the distress of the captives. ‘They will give us a little food and water soon,’ she continued. ‘They did before you were brought here.’

  Naomi realised how thirsty and hungry she was. And while the pain had subsided to a dull ache, the shame of her terrible abuse remained, although she feebly attempted to dismiss what had happened as not her fault.

  True to Meili’s prediction a guard appeared with a pail of rice mixed with something that reeked so odiously Naomi felt her stomach churn.

  Meili did not show the same revulsion as an empty bowl was thrust into her hands and the mixture slopped in the bowl. ‘Take some,’ she hissed at Naomi who stared blankly at the empty bowl in her hands. ‘Or you will not have any strength.’

  Naomi accepted the food. Meili lifted her bowl and swallowed the contents and Naomi followed suit, without wanting to taste what she had consumed. It tasted as bad as it smelled and Naomi had to force herself to keep it down.

  Water was brought in a large pottery jug and the captives fell on it without any thought for their sisters in a similar situation. Meili stepped in and used harsh words to force each of the girls to pause and take their turn. The girls obeyed her commands and Naomi marvelled at the young girl’s natural abilities as a leader. She had always expected her own wishes and whims to be obeyed as she was a woman of wealth and education, but this girl from an impoverished village had a spirit of strength that Naomi envied.

  ‘It is your turn,’ Meili said to Naomi, who scrambled forward to drink from the communal jug.

  Now fed and their thirsts slaked by the brackish water Naomi and Meili retreated to their corner of the courtyard away from the main huddle of girls.

  ‘Why have you chosen me to go with you on your escape?’ Naomi asked. ‘Why not the other girls?’

  ‘They are ignorant peasant girls,’ Meili replied contemptuously. ‘You are not like them.’

  Naomi did not contradict the young woman by saying that from what she knew Meili was also a peasant. What mattered for now was that Meili was the only one who had expressed resistance at the circumstances Naomi was in. Yes, she would go with Meili when the time was right. That time she trusted to the young woman who watched her captors like a snake preparing to strike.

  Early June 1900

  Gulf of Chihli

  East of Pekin

  Off the coast of Queensland the money that passed from John Wong’s purse to the captain of the steamer had ensured Tung’s passage from Queensland to Hong Kong with the three men sharing a small cabin.

  On the journey John had noticed that his son spent many hours on deck with Tung discussing many subjects but with one basis: China’s future in the modern world. John was not particularly interested in China, only getting his daughter out before the troubles being reported by the papers overflowed into blood. But Andrew seemed to be growing more obsessed with the country of his ancestors and John was irritated by his son’s growing anti-imperialistic stance which had led to an unspoken tension between father and son on the voyage.

  When they transferred in Hong Kong to a Chinese coastal steamer they had learned the news which John had most dreaded. Sketchy reports filtering out of China pointed at massacres of Christian Chinese converts, and increasing large numbers of Boxers roaming the countryside, unrestrained by the Imperial troops of the Empress.

  The rust-streaked, leaky steamer they had transferred to in Hong Kong was now off the Chinese coast of Taku in the Gulf of Chihli. Their voyage from Cairns to the Chinese waters had taken sixteen days and now the massive mud bar and Imperial Chinese fortress at the mouth of the Peiho River blocked the steamer’s further progress.

  The mud-brick fortresses guarding the entrance to the river were manned by Imperial troops touchy to any attempted intervention by the foreign powers. They had already faced off against two British warships some weeks earlier.

  The three men stood sweating at the port side rail staring gloomily into the distance across a dirty brown sea that gave off little or no breeze to cool the clammy hot air.

  ‘The captain has informed me that, due to the volatile situation ashore, he is not going to attempt to offload his cargo,’ John said, leaning on the rails, gazing at the shore. ‘We have to find some other way of getting up the Peiho River to Tientsin.’

  ‘The captain is wise,’ Tung said quietly. ‘I know this province and I sense trouble ashore. It would be better that you both return home.’

  ‘I have faced worse than this,’ John snorted. ‘All we have to do is get ashore and make our way up the river to Tientsin, and from there across to Pekin.’

  ‘You would not get through the rebel lines,’ Tung warned. ‘From what I learned in Hong Kong the Boxers have torn up the railway tracks, cut the telegraph lines and they control the countryside of the province. You would stand out as foreigners and be executed.’

  ‘Would I stand out as a foreigner?’ Andrew asked.

  Tung turned to gaze at the man he had befriended. ‘You might,’ Tung reflected. ‘Unless you wore peasant clothes and stayed away from the Boxers.’

  ‘Andrew is returning to Hong Kong,’ John interjected. ‘The situation has grown far too dangerous for him to attempt anything ashore.’

  Andrew swung his attention on his father. ‘What are you saying?’ he flared. ‘Are you saying that I have come this far with you to be told that it is too dangerous to go in search of my sister? She is just as precious to me as she is to you.’

  ‘I was hoping that we would arrive before the trouble began,’ John said. ‘I cannot afford to have you risk your life in my mission. How do you think I would feel if I lost not only Naomi but you as well?’

  ‘Sorry, Father,’ Andrew snorted. ‘But Naomi is my sister and you can’t stop me going ashore. As Tung has said, I have more chance of passing as a local than you. Besides, I have already discussed the situation with Tung last night as to what we might encounter and he has agreed that he would help us get to Pekin if you insist.’

  ‘I thought that we agreed to part ways on the voyage when we reached Chinese shores,’ John said, glaring at Tung. ‘You have your mission to get the money back to its rightful owners.’

  Tung’s expression did not change under John’s withering gaze. Tung was confused. He had not discussed with Andrew that he would help them and now the young man had put him in an awkward situation. Should he deny that he had spoken with Andrew about the situation they might encounter upon reaching China? ‘I will help you both obtain passage to Pekin,’ he replied without looking at Andrew.

  ‘Just me,’ John replied. ‘Andrew returns to Hong Kong.’

  ‘You need him,’ Tung said bluntly. ‘He can pass – but you are out of your depth here.’

  ‘We need to get the captain to allow us to row ashore in one of his lifeboats,’ John sighed, conceding Tung was right. ‘I am sure for a good price that can be arranged. And when we get ashore we need to get hold of a sampan or similar to go up the river. The only arms we can carry will be concealed pistols and we will have to change from our European clothes into something like a coolie’s garb.’

  Andrew felt the tension leave him. The thought of putting ashore was more than just a mission to find his sister but also an opportunity to touch the earth of his ancestors. This was a spiritual aspect to his journey that he could not deny. China and its future had grown into an obsession for him and he could not tell his father about beliefs that he would not understand.

  At first the captain of the coastal trader refused to ferry his three passengers ashore, until John produced a wad of English pounds. Feigning reluctance, the Indian mariner slipped the notes into his pocket and summoned his sec
ond-in-command to the bridge.

  Dressed in peasant garb and concealing ready cash and revolvers, the three men were rowed ashore at night with the ingoing tide. No sooner had they stepped ashore than the boat pulled away lest it be detected by piquets of the Imperial Chinese army guarding the coastal forts. Such was the volatile nature of the current situation that Tung had warned John and Andrew to treat every Chinese they encountered as a potential enemy.

  Tung had reassured his two companions that they were in territory that he was familiar with, and John realised he had to trust this enigmatic man.

  ‘I am finally in the land of my ancestors,’ Andrew whispered in awe.

  ‘If we are not careful you might just join them,’ John growled, still smarting that he had buckled to Andrew’s wish to accompany himself and Tung ashore.

  ‘There is a fishing village not far from here,’ Tung said in a low voice. ‘The people are poor so your English currency should buy us help. It seems the people of my country do not consider all things foreign as not desirable. Just keep your guard up,’ he continued. ‘There may be army patrols in the area.’

  Silently, John and Andrew followed Tung as he easily walked through the night under the light of a half moon. John admired the man’s ability to navigate at night. Tung had all the marks of a highly skilled warrior.

  They trudged through grass-covered sand dunes in the night, using the shoreline as their guide. Eventually they arrived to see a cluster of timber and mud huts silhouetted against the starlit sky not far from the shore. There were no lights and John instinctively drew the pistol from inside his loose-fitting shirt.

  ‘There will be no need of weapons,’ Tung hissed. ‘I will need some of your money and I will enter the houses to speak to the people inside.’

  John shrugged and squatted in the hardy grasses. Andrew joined him and together they waited as Tung disappeared into the night.

  After some minutes John was alerted to two figures appearing through the curtain of darkness.