At Han-kow I left the steamer, to take command of a new schooner belonging (nominally) to the same owners. As her interior accommodations were not quite finished, I took a small house until such time as she should be completed. While residing ashore, I suffered from an attack of fever—a complaint very prevalent amongst Europeans in China—that at one time seemed almost certain to destroy my life.
One night when convalescent, but still very weak, I was aroused by a strong smell of fire; in a moment almost, thick volumes of smoke rushed into the room, and I heard the loud crackling of burning wood close at hand. Getting from my bed, and hurrying some clothing on as quickly as possible, I got to the door of my house, and found the next one in a complete blaze, and my own just igniting. My servants no sooner opened the back door and attempted to save my property, than a crowd of braves rushed in and commenced to plunder all they could lay hands on. I was too weak to do much, but, taking a sword, endeavoured to drive them off; I followed one a few paces from the door, and thrust at his body, but was too weak to hurt him much, and the point of my weapon glanced on his ribs; the fellow did not even drop his booty, but successfully made off with all the bedding. Fortunately at this juncture assistance from some neighbouring European residents arrived, or I should have lost everything. With their help and that of the coolies, the greater part of my things were saved, but much had been carried off by the "Imps." The origin of the fire was attributable to the incendiary acts of the Imperialist soldiers, who had set fire to the adjoining house, as also to an European dwelling, out of malice, and hatred of the "foreign devils."
For the few days before taking up my quarters on board the schooner, a friend kindly accommodated me. I then engaged a Greek seaman as mate, shipped a Chinese crew, a Malay boatswain, and prepared to leave. Our voyage progressed very favourably until we reached a place a little below the treaty port Kew-kiang, where, although hitherto dropping down with the tide at the rate of three or four miles an hour, my course was abruptly arrested for several days. Between Kew-kiang and the mouth of the Poyang Lake is situated a large island, and instead of taking the usual channel, my stupid Chinese pilot preferred the other side of the island. In consequence of this, when about half-way past, stem on we went, and stuck hard and fast aground. After a tiresome day's work we managed to get afloat again in about six inches more water than the schooner was drawing, and then made fast for the night. In the morning, after sounding in every direction, and finding the only channel very shallow, and as intricate as the maze at Rosherville Gardens, I obtained a fisherman from the shore, who, for the consideration of a few strings of cash, piloted us out; our own pilot being perfectly ignorant of his duties. I have since found it a common thing for Chinamen who have spent all their lives sailing about the Yang-tze river, to be utterly unacquainted with its pilotage.
Through this affair, the vessel's rudder became injured, and we had barely cleared the island, making sail to a fresh breeze, when away it went.
It now became necessary to bring up for repairs: so picking out a creek with a village named Chang-kea-kau at its entrance, I ran the schooner into it, anchored, and sent ashore for carpenters to make a new rudder. In about a week's time, the village blacksmiths and carpenters managed to turn out a contrivance they termed a rudder; but of all the rudders I ever saw it beat them hollow. They could neither make round bolts, nor long bolts: so instead of bolting the rudder together, they fastened the first part to the rudder-post with huge square nails (they could only cut square holes in timber, having no tool to bore large round ones), and the second part to the first, and the outside piece to the second, with huge iron clamps driven on at the sides: the whole concern stuck and plastered together with lumps of iron bands and braces in every direction, in a way that none but a Chinaman could contrive.
With immense exertion of mechanics, I managed to get this monster shipped in its place, after which I was enabled to make sail and proceed.
At the city of Ta-tung, about 150 miles above Nankin, and fifty below Ngan-king, the capital of Ngan-whui province, I anchored for three days. This city is the chief salt mart up river, all the salt from E-ching coming there, previously to being distributed over the country. The scenery about Ta-tung is very fine—lightly wooded hills gradually rising, range after range, far into the interior. I took a ramble ashore with Philip, my mate, to hunt up some game; our way lay over ridges of low hills covered with a forest of dwarf firs, none over six feet high, mingled with specimens of the smallest of all small trees, the dwarf oak. This Lilliputian forest was succeeded by a tangled undergrowth, and fine plantation, which compelled us to pursue the narrow tracks leading through it. During our progress we were often startled with the loud whirr of the pheasant springing from almost under our feet, and although the high cover made it difficult to get a shot, we obtained several brace. At last we came to a more open part of the hills, where the forest was succeeded by wild flowers and shrubs, while small lakes were frequent in the valleys below us. The hills became higher and more rocky, the few trees about them being of large size—in fact, the tallest I have seen in China. From the rocky nature of the country, and the running appearance of the chain of lakes, I fancied a large spring was somewhere in the neighbourhood, and I was right; for, after following a beautiful and gradually ascending valley some distance, we came to a cold mountain spring of the purest water I ever tasted in China. We threw ourselves upon the grass and drank the pure mountain draught to our heart's content, and, while resting ourselves, inhaled the powerful aromatic odour of the wild magnolia growing in profusion around. The magnolia is the only flower I have found in China possessing fragrance, all others, however beautiful, being without perfume. Whilst rolling on the turf we had observed some birds, apparently of the duck species, fly overhead in the direction of some tall trees through a gorge on the hills; it being the middle of summer, these birds excited our curiosity, and we determined to follow them and if possible get a shot. When we arrived at the foot of the trees, to our surprise we saw many of these duck-like birds flying in and out of nests among the branches; we shot three brace and a half, and found them to be the beautiful and delicious little wood or summer duck. When I returned on board, I instantly sent some of my crew ashore with a small cask to fill at the spring, and ever afterwards I remembered that cool water and its romantic valley.
The few villages about seemed very poor; they had continually been visited by Ti-ping or Imperialist soldiers, and this, of course, had proved disastrous to the inhabitants, for we all know what hungry disciplined troops are in an enemy's country, but few of us realize the effect of undisciplined Chinese. The houses, however, had not been destroyed, and the only mark of the Ti-pings was the remains of a large Budhist temple, each separate brick, as usual, being broken to pieces, so that nothing but heaps of rubbish remained. The people spoke very vengefully about the visits of the Imperialist troops, who, they said, had used their women shamefully, and killed several of the husbands and fathers who had attempted to defend them. The Ti-pings, they informed me, had treated them well, and had only made them contribute provisions for the army; one soldier having used violence to a girl, had been decapitated, and they showed me the place where his head had been exposed. They also spoke very kindly of one leader of the Ti-pings, the Ying-wang, who had allowed nothing to be taken from them without payment for it.
During my voyage in the schooner, I became acquainted with the Chinese game of chess, which, although resembling that of Europe in a few pieces, and the object of the game, is in every other particular totally different. I had several Chinese on board, passengers to Shanghae, and they taught me how to play.
The board, instead of being divided into black and white squares, as with us, is of one colour—generally black—and divided by lines on which the pieces stand, and move as shown in the following rules and annexed diagram:—