Adrift in Pacific and Other Great Adventures – 17 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Jules Verne
Читать онлайн книгу.
Thus thought the thoroughly transformed Kin-Fo; and, as one may believe, the amiable young widow in Pekin filled the chief place in his plans for the future. But what was Soun thinking of all this time?
Soun was thinking of nothing at all. Soun was stretched out in the cabin, paying his tribute to the malevolent divinities in the Gulf of Pe-che-lee. He could only collect a few ideas with which to curse his master, the philosopher Wang, and the bandit Lao-Shen. He felt benumbed at his stomach,—“Ai, ai, ya!”—benumbed in his ideas, and benumbed in his feelings. He did not even think of tea or rice. “Ai, ai, ya!” what ill-fated wind had driven him here? Oh! what a mistake he had made! He would a thousand times—yes, ten thousand times—rather not have entered the service of a man who was going to sea. He would willingly have given what was left of his pigtail to be away from there. He would even rather have his head shaved, and be made a bonze. It was the yellow dog! the yellow dog, who was devouring his liver and bowels! “Ai, ai, ya!”
However, under the impetus of a fine south wind, the “Sam-Yep” passed within three or four miles of the low shores of the coast, which ran east and west. She passed Peh-Tang, at the mouth of the river of that name, not far from the place where the European fleet landed; then Shan-Tung, Tschiang-Ho, at the mouth of the Tau, and Hai-Ve-Tse.
This part of the gulf was becoming deserted. The maritime travel, which was quite important at the estuary of the Pei-ho, did not extend twenty miles beyond. In this part of the sea, around the blank horizon, only a few junks of commerce doing a small business in coasting, a dozen fishing-boats examining the fishing-grounds along the coast and the nets on the shore, were to be seen.
Craig and Fry observed that the fishing-boats, even those whose capacity did not exceed five or six tons, were armed with one or two little cannon.
To the remark which they made to Capt. Yin, the latter answered, rubbing his hands,—
“We have to frighten the pirates.”
“Pirates in this part of the Gulf of Pe-che-lee!” cried Craig, in surprise.
“Why not here as well as anywhere else?” answered Yin. “Those worthies are not wanting in the seas of China.”
And the excellent captain laughed, showing both rows of his dazzling teeth.
“You do not seem to dread them very much,” observed Fry.
“Have I not my two cannon,—and jolly fellows they are!—who speak pretty loud when any one comes too near them?”
“Are they loaded?” asked Craig.
“Usually.”
“Now?”
“No.”
“Why not?” asked Fry.
“Because I have no powder on board,” answered Capt. Yin quietly.
“Then of what use are the cannon?” said Craig-Fry, but little satisfied with this answer.
“Of what use?” cried the captain. “Why, to protect a cargo when it is worth the trouble,—when my junk is filled to the hatchway with tea or opium. But, with this cargo I have on board to-day, it is different.”
“But,” said Craig, “how do the pirates know whether your junk is worth attacking?”
“Then you fear a visit from those worthies?” answered the captain, turning round on his heel, and shrugging his shoulders.
“Yes, I do,” said Fry.
“But you have no goods on board.”
“That’s so,” added Craig; “but we have particular reasons for not desiring their visit.”
“Well, have no anxiety,” answered the captain. “The pirates, if we meet any, will not give chase to our junk.”
“Why not?”
“Because they will know what kind of cargo she has, as soon as they come in sight of her.” And Capt. Yin pointed to a white flag at half-mast, which was being unfurled in the breeze. “A white flag in distress! the flag of mourning! These worthy men would not put themselves out to steal a cargo of coffins.”
“Perhaps they will think you sail under the mourning-flag through prudence,” observed Craig, “and will come on board to ascertain.”
“If they come, we will receive them well,” answered Capt. Yin; “and, when they have made their visit, they will go as they came.”
Craig-Fry did not pursue the subject, but they shared the captain’s unconcern in only a moderate degree. The capture of a junk of three hundred tons, even without a cargo, offered profit enough to the “worthy men” Capt. Yin spoke of for them to desire to make an attack upon her. But, whatever might come, they must resign themselves to their fate, and would only hope that the passage would be a safe one.
The captain, indeed, neglected nothing to bring himself good luck. At the moment he set sail, a cock was sacrificed in honor of the divinities of the sea, and on the mizzen-mast still hung the feathers of the unhappy member of the gallinaceous tribe. A few drops of his blood sprinkled over the deck, and a small cup of wine thrown overboard, completed this propitiatory sacrifice. Thus consecrated, what had the junk “Sam-Yep” to fear under the command of the excellent Capt. Yin?
It is to be supposed, however, that the capricious divinities were not satisfied. Either the cock was too thin, or the wine was not made from the best Chao-Chigne vineyard; for a terrible squall struck the junk. Nothing had predicted it; for the day had been clear and bright, and the sky was swept of all clouds by a fine breeze. The clearest-sighted sailor could not have found indications that the “dog” was about to strike them.
Towards eight o’clock in the evening, the “Sam-Yep,” still riding the waters safely, was preparing to double the cape, formed by the coast where it turns back to the north-east. Beyond it she could put on full sail, which was a very favorable manner of progressing for her build; and Capt. Yin, without presuming too much on his speed, expected to reach the coast of Fou-Ning in twenty-four hours.
Kin-Fo saw the hour for anchoring approach with a feeling of impatience that in Soun became fierce.
As for Fry-Craig, they made this remark: that, if in three days their charge should be able to get out of Lao-Shen’s hands the letter which compromised his existence, it would be at the very time when the Centenary would no longer have to trouble themselves about him. Indeed, his policy only covered him up to midnight of the 30th of June, since he had only paid a two-months’ instalment into the hands of the Honorable Mr. Bidulph.
“All”—said Fry.
“Right!” added Craig.
Towards evening, at the time the junk reached the entrance of the Gulf of Leao-Tong, the wind veered suddenly to the north-east; then, passing north, two hours later it blew from the northwest.
If Capt. Yin had kept a barometer on board, it would have shown that the column of mercury had just lost, almost instantly, four or five millimetres. Now, this quick rarefaction of the air announced the approach of a typhoon,1 whose movements were already indicated by the atmosphere. Also, if Capt. Yin had been acquainted with the observations of the Englishman Paddington and the American Maury, he would have tried to change his course, and steer to the northeast, in the hope of reaching a less dangerous area, outside of the centre of attraction of the whirling tempest.
But Capt. Yin never made use of the barometer, and was ignorant of the laws of cyclones. Besides, had he not sacrificed a cock? and would it not protect him from every danger?
Nevertheless this superstitious Chinaman was a good seaman, and