CHAPTER XVII.

       In Which Kin-Fo’s Market Value Is Once More Uncertain.

       Table of Contents

      A week previous an American ship had come to anchor in the port at Takou. Chartered by the Sixth China and California Company, it had been charged to the account of the agency Fouk-Ting-Tong, which is located in the Cemetery of Laurel Hill, San Francisco.

      It is there that the Celestials who die in America, and are faithful to their religion,—which bids them rest in native earth,—await the day of their return.

      This boat, whose destination was Canton, had, on the written authority of the agency, taken on board a cargo of two hundred and fifty coffins, seventy-five of which were to be landed at Takou, to be returned to the northern provinces.

      This part of the cargo had been transferred from the American to the Chinese ship; and that very morning, the 27th of June, the latter was to set sail for the port of Fou-Ning.

      It was on this boat that Kin-Fo and his companions had taken passage. They probably would not have selected it; but, as there were no other ships leaving for the Gulf of Leao-Tong, they were obliged to embark on it. Then it was only a matter of three or four days’ passage at most, and one very easy to make at that time of year.

      The “Sam-Yep” was a sea-junk of about three hundred tons.

      Some junks are of a thousand tons and over, drawing six feet only, which enables them to cross the bars of the rivers of the Celestial Empire. Too broad for their length, with a beam quarter the length of the keel, they are poor sailers for long distances, but turn round like a top, which gives them an advantage over ships of finer build. Their enormous yellow rudders are pierced with holes,—a practice which is thought highly of in China, but the effect of which is rather questionable. However this may be, these vast ships easily cut through the waters of rivers. It is said that one of these junks, freighted by a house in Canton, carried a cargo of tea and china to San Francisco under the command of an American captain. That they ride the sea well has therefore been proved; and competent judges agree that the Chinese make excellent sailors.

      The “Sam-Yep,” which was of modern build, reminded one of European ships in the model of her hull. Being neither nailed nor pegged, but made of bamboo sewed together, and calked with oakum and resin of Camboge, she was so stanch that she did not even possess a ship’s pump; and her lightness made her float on the water like a piece of cork. Having an anchor of very hard wood; a rigging made of the fibres of the palm-tree, which was remarkably flexible; with pliant sails managed from the deck, opening and shutting like a fan; and with two masts disposed like the main-mast and mizzen-mast of a lugger, without a bowsprit or jib,—she was well equipped for a short coasting voyage.

      Certainly, no one on seeing the “Sam-Yep” would have imagined that its consignors had converted it this time into an enormous hearse.

      Indeed, instead of chests of tea, bales of silk goods, and a stock of Chinese perfumery, the cargo we have spoken of had been substituted. But the junk had lost none of its lively colors: at its fore and aft cabins were suspended banners of many hues; at its prow there was a big glaring eye, which gave it the look of some gigantic marine animal; and at its mastheads the breeze unfurled the brilliant bunting of the Chinese flag. Two cannon stretched open their shining mouths above the railing, and reflected the sun’s rays like a mirror; and useful engines they were in these seas, and were still infested by pirates. The whole appearance of the ship was gay, smart, and agreeable to the eye. And, after all, was it not the returning of exiles to their native land that the “Sam-Yep” was engaged in,—the returning of corpses, it is true, but of satisfied corpses?

      Neither Kin-Fo nor Soun felt the slightest dislike at sailing under such circumstances; for they were Chinamen. But Craig and Fry, like their American compatriots, who do not care about carrying this sort of a cargo, would no doubt have preferred some other ship of commerce; but the choice was not theirs to make.

      A captain and six men composed the crew of the junk, and were sufficient to manage the very simple sails. The compass, it is said, was invented in China. This is possible; but the coasters never use it, and navigate by their judgment. This is what Capt. Yin, the commander of the “Sam-Yep” was going to do; and he did not expect, indeed, to lose sight of the shores of the gulf.

      This Capt. Yin—a small man, with a smiling face, lively and loquacious—was the living demonstration of the insolvable problem of perpetual motion. He could not stay still in one place, and he was profuse in gestures. His arms, hands, and eyes spoke more than his tongue, which, however, was never at rest behind his white teeth. He drove his men about, was exacting of them, and swore at them; but he was a good seaman, was well acquainted with these coasts, and managed his junk as if he held it between his fingers. The high price which Kin-Fo paid for himself and companions was not likely to diminish his jovial humor. What a godsend were passengers who paid a hundred and fifty taels for a trip of sixty hours! especially if they were no more particular about their comfort and food than their travelling companions who were boxed up in the hold.

      Kin-Fo, Craig, and Fry were quartered after a fashion in the rear-cabin. Soun was in the one in the fore-part of the junk.

      The two agents, still mistrustful, devoted themselves to a minute examination of the captain and crew, but found nothing suspicious in the manner of these worthy men. They could not be in league with Lao-Shen; for it was not within the limits of probability, since chance alone had placed this junk at the disposition of their charge; and how could chance be the accomplice of the too famous Tai-ping? Therefore the passage, with the exception of the dangers of the sea, would give them a few days’ rest from their daily anxiety; and they left Kin-Fo more to himself.

      The latter, however, was not sorry. He secluded himself in his cabin, and gave himself up to philosophizing as much as he pleased. Poor man! he had never known how to appreciate his happiness, or to value his former life in the yamen at Shang-hai,—a life free from care, and one that labor might have changed. Let him once get back his letter, and you would see if he had not profited by the lesson, and if the fool had not become a sage.

      But would this letter ever be restored to him? Yes, no doubt, since he would pay a price for its return. It could only be a question of money to this Lao-Shen. Nevertheless it was necessary to capture him, and not be caught by him. This was the difficulty. Lao-Shen would keep informed of all that Kin-Fo did, and Kin-Fo knew nothing of his movements: hence there was great danger for Craig-Fry’s charge when he should land in the province explored by the Tai-ping. Every thing depended, then, on warning Lao-Shen; for evidently he would prefer to receive fifty thousand dollars from Kin-Fo living than fifty thousand dollars from Kin-Fo dead. That would save him