Mr. Wicker's Window

by Carley Dawson

  CHAPTER 28

  Chris and Amos lay belly down in a low clump of pine scrub at the top of aprecipitous rocky pinnacle. Below them in the blistering noon lay thepalace walls of the Lord of the Seven Seas, Descendant of the Sun and theMoon, Overlord of the Mountains and the Plains, Prince of all the Isles,Father of Plenty, and Brilliance-Before-Which-All-Cast-Down-Their-Eyes, theEmperor of China.

  The two boys were uninterested in titles. Somewhere within thatcity-within-a-city, inside the enormous spread of the palace wallsthat were surrounded in their turn by the city of Peking, lay the goalthey had come so far to seek, the Jewel Tree of the Princess of China.Now, like a general planning his campaign, Chris lay looking down atthe high angular walls, thinking of how he would gain entry.

  On regaining the _Mirabelle_ in a boat made from the magic rope, Chrishad reappeared among his friends, "recovered" from his fever. He hadgiven much thought to what he considered would be the last dangeroussection of the journey, and after listening to what his master saidthrough the shell, was permitted to take Amos on this stage of thevoyage. It was reasoned if something happened to Chris, Amos might beable to carry out their mission by himself.

  The boys had come to Peking on camel-back, a camel made from the magicrope. As Amos had never seen a real camel, he thought the rope animalquite natural, and as remarkable a creature as a real one. Chris tookcare to make it or disentangle it out of Amos's sight, and so manywere the strange and wonderful things to be seen, that Amos had notime to concern himself over the reality of a camel.

  The arid countryside was blanched by the excessive heat. Flies dronedover the dates and figs that the boys pulled from their pockets toeat. Amos wriggled with excitement as he pointed out details to Chris.

  "Chris! Look at that procession going in the big gate! All thosepigtailed gentlemen dressed in embroidered coats. I like that blue onewith butterflies on it. No, I'd sooner have the black satin one withthe dragon in red and yellow!" He looked again more closely. "Or theone with the peacock in green and purple. Which would you soonerhave?"

  Chris paid little attention to Amos's exclamations. Leaning on hiselbows and looking at the scene below, his mind worked busily on theselast vital problems. But Amos was not waiting for an answer. His mindwas on the present moment and the present scene, forgetful of what layahead of them, a few hours away. He chattered on.

  "I like their funny black hats and droopy mustaches. Why don't theylook like us, Chris?" he asked. And then, "Who-all's in the curtainedstretcher they're carrying?"

  "It's a palanquin, Amos. They carry dignitaries in them."

  "Hate to be a dignitary in all this heat," Amos said, unenviously."What are they doing now?" he enquired, and both boys parted theprickly pine needles to look out and down.

  The leader of the procession rapped three times on the great gate witha gold staff. Sentinels and guards came forward, walking on the broadgate top, and after talking with the members of the procession, turnedto give an order.

  Gaily dressed trumpeters with dragon masks on the visors of theirhelmets raised long brass trumpets. A prolonged throbbing "Wai! Wo!"shuddered out, and the great outer gates of the palace, studded withpronged spikes of carved metal, swung slowly outward. Sixteen men cameinto sight, eight on either side, pushing wide the gates.

  "Gee! Imagine the weight of those doors!" Chris murmured, and takingout his spyglass looked through it. "Golly Moses!" he exclaimed. "Takea look, Amos. Those gates are made of bronze, nearly three feetthick! And now they have the gates open, look at the depth of thewalls. They're as deep through as a room!"

  The waiting procession, the richly dressed courtiers and curtainedpalanquin, moved inside and the gates were slowly pulled close bylines of men dragging at ropes and chains to shut them. From withinthe main gate drifted out the sound, becoming fainter and fainter, ofother trumpets sounding the order for the opening of other gates. Tentimes, the boys counted, the trumpets blew, and the same "Wai! Wo!"throbbed against the sultry air.

  "Lawsy me!" Amos sighed, when no more trumpets were to be heard. "Tenwalls and ten gates--at the very least! 'Course we don't know--" Herolled his worried eyes toward Chris, "We don't know whether thosefolks got to the Emperor or not. Likely he's in behind a couple morewalls, just to be on the safe side." He searched his friend's face."How are we going past all that many guards and trumpets, Chris? Evenif we could tie up a guard or two, how in the world we going to pushopen gates that heavy?"

  Amos need not have been so concerned, for Chris had a good plan. Butjust at that moment the heat overcame Chris. Putting his head down onhis arms, he slept.

  Amos slept too, and it must have been several hours later that therising sound of a crowd talking and laughing with excitementpenetrated their sleep and brought them to consciousness. For a momentthey both lay rubbing their eyes and peering out. Then they realized,by the growing crowd on either side of the palace gate and along thenarrow street leading away from it, that someone of importance wasabout to come from the palace and parade through the streets ofPeking.

  "Wonder what goes on?" Chris muttered, as the crowds below swelled andgrew. Boys climbed upon one another's shoulders, teakwood stools werebrought for the richer people to stand on, and along the street thatled away to the right around the palace walls, Chris and Amos couldsee embroidered silks hung from all the windows, and Chinese people intheir best holiday clothes laughing excitedly. All were looking towardthe gates, and at last, from far within, even more distantly thanbefore, came the first sound of trumpets. These had a sweeter, clearersound than those the boys had heard at noon.

  "Never heard a sweeter note," Amos said. "Might be made of silver,'way they sound."

  The boys counted, and twelve times the low, lovely notes swung out onthe air.

  "Twelve gates!" Chris said to Amos, "And look, you were right, they_are_ silver trumpets!"

  The trumpeters atop the great outer gates were now differentlydressed, and there were not two but a dozen lined along the deeppalace walls. The trumpets, ten feet long, were curved, and of silverthat in the sunlight dazzled the eye. As they were blown, the finalgates were pushed aside.

  A long procession emerged of such fantasy and variety of color thatthe two boys were spellbound. Elephants and camels, llamas and horses,all richly caparisoned in Eastern silks, passed along with theirriders. Guards with curved swords and many-thonged whips formed adouble hedge between those in the procession and the bystanders. Stillothers led leopards and black panthers on chains as an addedprotection to those they guarded. Palanquin after palanquin passed by,but still the crowd seemed to be waiting for something.

  Then, as the silver trumpets continued their sweet lingering notes, amurmur arose from the crowd. Four lines of youths preceded a palanquinmore finely decked than the rest, and the murmur rose. After it camefour lines of Chinese girls, fanning the air with peacock fans on longstaves, fans of white egret feathers, and ostrich plumes dyed a yellowgold.

  "Amos!" Chris breathed, "That color! Yellow is the royal color ofChina!"

  He did not have to elaborate his thought, for the palanquin thatfinally came in sight showed by its richness that it could belong onlyto royalty, and by its beauty and grace, only to a woman. Made ofsilver and rock crystal, studded with diamonds and pearls, and hungabout with sheer curtains of embroidered yellow silk, the palanquinbelonged without doubt to a young girl of the royal house. As itappeared under the high arch of the outer gate, a roar of joy andgreeting arose from the waiting crowd and with one accord every manbowed low, covering his eyes with the wide sleeve of his left arm. Thewomen and girls in the crowd, and those leaning from the upper storiesof the houses, threw down before the palanquin objects that flashedand twinkled in the sun.

  Remembering in time, for he had been so much absorbed he hadmomentarily forgotten it, Chris whipped out his spyglass and looked atthe curtains of the palanquin. The thin silk was transparent enoughunder the strong focus of the glass, and behind it Chris couldperceive, leaning delicately against
silk cushions, a Chinese girl asbeautiful as a dream. Her slightly uptilted eyes were large and dark,her skin put a magnolia flower to shame, her mouth was lifted in acharming smile, and her long exquisite fingers held a spray of jeweledflowers. All about the palanquin rained a shower of jeweled buds andpetals, for no doubt a real flower was thought too inferior for theonly child of the Descendant of the Sun and the Moon, Prince of allthe Isles, and Lord of the Seven Seas, the Princess of China.