Held by Chinese Brigands, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV--HOW CHEONG-CHAU CAME FORTH OF THE TOWN OF PINGLO

  Mr Waldron appreciated the journey up the West River even more than thesights of Canton. Stretched comfortably upon his deck-chair, hesurveyed through his binoculars the rich, prosperous landscape ofSouthern China. He interested himself in the straw-hatted peasants atwork in the tea-gardens and the ricefields. As the launch steamed uponits way, he inspected river-side villages, temples, gateways andpagodas.

  The party arrived at Wu-chau, spent two or three days seeing the sights,and then proceeded up-river. A few days later, the launch arrived atthe town of Pinglo--three days after Men-Ching, seated astride hislittle Mongolian pony, had ridden in from the East.

  Since there was little or nothing to see in Pinglo, Sir Thomas Armitage,Frank and Mr Hennessy K. Waldron, accompanied by Yung How and one otherpersonal servant, set out on a journey across country towards the north.They carried knapsacks upon their backs, and proceeded by way of thenarrow paths separating the ricefields. The heat was excessive, but asthey progressed, and reached higher altitudes, it became cooler, and atthe end of three days' march the Nan-ling Mountains stood out beforethem like a great wall.

  They found the Taoist temple, surrounded by trees, tucked away in thecorner of a picturesque valley, where there were great numbers of birdsof brilliant plumage.

  Mr Waldron was delighted. The temple was deserted, and appeared to havebeen neglected for centuries. The plaster had crumbled from the wallsand lay in heaps upon the floor. The place consisted of one huge hall,with several smaller rooms on either side. Everything of value had beenstolen; but the architecture remained, solid and fantastic, and of thegreatest antiquity.

  Ranged around the walls were the figures of scores of gods andgoddesses, chief amongst whom was Buddha. Sir Thomas was able toidentify several of the images, one of whom he recognised as Mohammed,another as St Paul, and a third as Marco Polo. That Marco Polo shouldhave risen in China to the dignity of a deity is conceivable, since thisdauntless adventurer was the first European to reside in the ancientTartar kingdom of Kublai Khan. But it was indeed remarkable that thefame of such great preachers as St Paul and the founder of theMohammedan religion should have reached--across the whole of Asia--theheart of the Chinese Empire. This is no treatise on Chinese theology,else we could write much concerning the Taoist temple on the southernslopes of the Nan-ling Mountains, at the very back of the beyond. It issufficient to say that the judge took copious notes, and Mr Hennessy K.Waldron was delighted. As a memento of the expedition he knocked off astone gargoyle from above the porchway of the temple.

  In many ways the expedition resembled a delightful picnic, in a countrythat was charming and romantic. The ruined temple was surrounded byflowering shrubs and queer-shaped deciduous trees, and there weremoss-grown banks upon which one could lie at ease during the heat of theday or sleep tranquilly by night, when thousands of frogs were croakingin the valley below, and crickets were singing in the long _kiao-liang_that grew upon the mountain-side.

  The place was a natural garden, scented with almond and mimosa. Duringthe heat of the day there was shade in plenty; after sunset thetemperature was cool and refreshing. Yung How and his assistantattended to their wants; gave them four-course luncheons and dinners,produced from a saucepan and a frying-pan by means of a small wood firelaid between two bricks. Neither Mr Waldron nor the judge himselfshowed the slightest inclination to return to the steaming valley of theriver. As for Frank, he was happy all day long, exploring theneighbourhood, climbing to the crest-line of the hills, whence he couldsurvey a vast panorama of terraced paddy-fields, winding rivers,scattered villages and towns, each with its joss-houses and its templesand its great horseshoe graveyards.

  On the second day of their visit, whilst his uncle and the American wereoccupied in inspecting the temple, Frank Armitage ascended a steepbridle-path which crossed the mountains at a narrow pass. To the northhe found his view obstructed by another and even more rugged range ofmountains. Anxious to gain a more commanding position, the boy left thebridle-path and climbed, on hands and knees, the steep face of theadjacent peak.

  It took him the greater part of an hour to gain the top, but there hefound his efforts rewarded by a view that reminded him of many scenespictured by Gustave Dore, illustrating _Don Quixote_ or _ParadiseLost_--pictures that had fascinated and frightened him as a child.

  Immediately before him was a second valley, at right angles to the onedividing the parallel ranges, resembling a huge, deep sword-cut in thebarren, savage hills. This valley narrowed as it rose to a higheraltitude, and finally became lost in mountain mist. There were fewtrees upon the steep, glistening slopes, and such as were to be seenwere stunted and deformed. There were no roads or paths; no sign oflife or civilisation. The sun itself appeared to have been shut out forever from this stretch of desolation.

  Frank turned and looked towards the south. In this direction were greentrees, green fields--a plain, rich, fertile, well-watered and thicklypopulated. It was almost impossible to believe that a narrow watershedcould divide landscapes so different that they might have been scenesfrom different planets. He glanced again at the dark sinister valley;and as he did so he caught a glimpse of something red, moving slowlyacross the spur that formed the angle of the two valleys immediatelybelow.

  He could not at first make out what this could be, for the moving objectalmost at once disappeared behind a hillock. When it appeared again,however, it was in mid-valley; and he recognised a party of men dressedin scarlet coats, who were marching in close formation, making in thedirection of the pass across the range.

  Frank knelt down behind a boulder and watched with interest, and notwithout apprehension, the approaching figures. A natural instinctwarned him that it would not be wise to show himself. There wassomething in the forbidding nature of the valley itself that warned himthat its sole occupants were not likely to be men whom one could trust.

  They climbed the bridle-path, gaining at last the pass whence Frankhimself had ascended to the hill-top. They were now easy todistinguish. The party numbered about thirty. They were brown-skinnedChinese, evidently mountain-born; all were armed with scythe-like spearsor long, curved knives, and one or two carried pistols in their belts.All wore scarlet coats, some of which were bright and new, others beingso faded that they were a kind of dirty pink. At the head of the partymarched a little shrivelled man, whose scarlet coat was trimmed withgold. Frank Armitage did not know it--though within eight hours he wasto learn the truth--but this was the redoubtable Cheong-Chauhimself--the brigand chief who plundered the southern provinces from theNan-ling Mountains to the sea.

  As they passed, swinging on their way, these men sang a low, wailingchant that might have been a funeral dirge, but which was, in fact, apirate song of blood and lust and murder. At the rear of the party wasan old man, seated upon the back of a short-necked Mongolian pony. Thiswas Men-Ching, who had ridden post-haste from the city of Canton,bringing greetings to Cheong-Chau from Ah Wu, who kept an opium den inthe vicinity of the Mohammedan mosque.

  Men-Ching had seen Yung How in the city of Wu-chau, and had there heardnews of the ancient Taoist temple upon the southern slopes of themountains. And Cheong-Chau had shaken off the sleep of opium and,gathering his men, had issued from the town of Pinglo, and had marchedby night into the mountains, the sovereignty of which he shared with theeagles and the kites.