Night was falling over the river as Liling guided the sampan into the shore.
Tung said that he knew the area and again assured his companions that their money would buy food and a place to stay.
As the boat was being nosed ashore not far from a small village John wished that he still had his revolver; old instincts told him that there was something ominous about the silence of the hot evening broken only by the sound of a barking dog and the crickets chirping in the dusty paddies, no longer under cultivation.
‘You still have command,’ John said quietly to Tung, reaffirming his right to make decisions on the river. ‘We are still in your hands.’
Tung nodded before leading the way cautiously toward a mud-brick house where a dim light glowed from a doorway. They had almost reached the building when John froze. His nagging doubt about the village proved to be correct when a shadowy figure emerged from behind the building armed with a long spear.
The others followed John’s example and remained still.
‘Who enters the village?’ the man challenged, holding his spear forward in a defensive manner.
‘Tung Chi, a Shaolin priest,’ Tung replied calmly. ‘Are you of the Society of the Harmonious Fist?’
The sentry hesitated, turned and called behind him. Five other similarly armed men appeared in the half light.
‘Come forward, Tung Chi,’ one of the men commanded.
Tung turned to gesture to his companions to remain where they were as he went forward to meet the six armed men.
‘Who are they?’ Andrew whispered to his father.
‘They are not regular troops,’ John answered, surveying the garb and weapons of the men Tung approached. ‘They are either bandits or Boxers. Either way I don’t like our chances. Be ready to run back to the boat.’
The situation remained tense as Tung entered into a conversation with the armed men. One of the unknown men suddenly lifted his spear to Tung’s throat and shouted. John felt adrenalin pumping through his body. As they were not in a position to fight then they would have to flee. But just as suddenly the man lowered his spear.
Tung turned back to John, Andrew and Liling. ‘We are safe for the moment,’ he said. ‘They have agreed to allow us to stay over tonight and continue our journey in the morning.’
‘Are they Boxers?’ John asked bluntly.
‘They are,’ Tung replied calmly. ‘They have been on a mission in the area, ripping up railway lines.’
‘What did you tell them about us?’ John asked.
‘I said that you were under my protection and not to be harmed.’
‘And they listened to you?’ John asked incredulously. ‘Four wandering strangers.’
‘They are men fighting a war against the evil of European occupation – not bandits,’ Tung replied. ‘They could see that you are Chinese, albeit I had to explain that you were from Hong Kong to explain your part-European appearance.’
A nagging suspicion haunted John. How could Tung, seemingly a total stranger to the armed rebels, convince the Boxers that what he told them was the truth? ‘Are you one of them?’ he asked quietly.
‘If you mean a rebel against the foreign destruction of my land, then I must answer yes,’ Tung replied defiantly.
‘Are you a Boxer?’ John persisted.
‘I promised to assist you to get to Pekin to find your daughter,’ Tung said. ‘Who or what I am is of no consequence. I have my own mission to go to the Son of Heaven and return what is rightfully his. Other than that, your question as to whether I am a member of the society is irrelevant.’
‘Father,’ Andrew interjected quietly, ‘Tung has got us safely this far, so I think that we are being less than gracious in questioning his motives.’
John did not take his eyes off Tung. ‘I don’t know whether I should trust you from now on,’ he said. ‘But my son is right. We do appreciate what you have done for us so far.’
Tung accepted the apology and realised that this man with equal amounts of European and Asian blood was not a man of compromise. But he was a tough and dangerous man who had proved himself many times in the past, according to Andrew. As for Andrew, he was also a good man but like many young people, an idealist searching for a cause rather than adopting his father’s very practical outlook on life. But idealists could also be dangerous men when fanaticism was applied.
Tung led them to the hut where the Boxers stood, watching them with little interest. Whatever Tung had said, John thought as they passed them by, had worked well. The only real curiosity they showed was that of normal male admiration for the beautiful Liling.
Andrew was curious about the Boxers now he was actually in the presence of the warriors he had considered the enemy. They appeared to be disciplined young men of his own age, and from what he had been told by Tung, devoted to freeing China from the unwanted foreigners. They had sprung from the soil of China and without the backing of the Empress taken it into their own hands to put their lives on the line to gain freedom.
The newcomers remained aloof from the soldiers who crowded into the hut to share a meal of rice and dried fish gruel. Tung was the only one to engage the Boxers in any talk and John noticed the deference they paid to him, heightening his suspicions.
Andrew observed how Liling kept close to him, eyeing the Boxers with great distrust. Occasionally their eyes met, but Liling would always quickly look away.
Finally the Boxer warriors found themselves a place to sleep on the earthen f loor and fell into a sound sleep, with one of their number taking his turn to stand guard outside.
The newcomers found it hard to sleep. Fleas bit at them all night and Andrew hoped that none of the parasites was carrying the dreaded bubonic plague, currently causing great concern in the eastern colonies. Andrew marvelled at how easily his father had drifted into sleep and, as he scratched irritably, wished that he could be more like his father: tough and stoic.
When dawn finally came, after a stifling, uncomfortable night inside the hut the soldiers stirred to serve up the same food as the night before. The travellers joined the Boxers for the morning meal then bid them a good day to return to their sampan.
‘Liling agrees with me that we are only about a day from Tientsin,’ Tung said, when the sampan was shoved out from the shore. ‘We should arrive after dark.’
John was pleased at the news. From there they could trek overland to Pekin and he would soon be united with his beloved daughter.
Andrew’s reaction was a little more mixed. Arriving in Tientsin meant that Liling would return to her small village at the mouth of the river and he wanted to learn more about the young woman. Despite the fact that she was uneducated, could not speak English and had seen very little of the world, Andrew found her fascinating and attractive.
He gazed across the sluggishly flowing, muddy river at the shoreline and wondered at how different was the world he found himself in now to the dignified stone portals of his Scottish university, where he should be at this very moment continuing his studies.
The oil-like surface of the river glistened and flickered in the shadow of fires burning along the shoreline of Tientsin. The four travelling in the sampan watched in silence from the water, wondering at the situation ashore. Occasionally the muffled sound of an explosion reached them, along with voices raised in terror.
‘It does not look good,’ John said. He turned to Tung and added, ‘Your friends seem to have beaten us here.’
‘I will go ashore and see what the situation is,’ Tung said. ‘I will return in an hour. If I am not back you should continue up the river to Tungchow. The girl can be paid to take you further.’ With these parting words, Tung slipped ashore and disappeared into the night. Liling poled the sampan away from the shore and anchored. All they could do was wait, watching and listening to a city being torn apart by revolution.
In less than thirty minutes Tung waved from the shoreline. Liling poled the sampan onto the riverbank to allow him aboard.
‘We will have to continue up the river,’ Tung said. ‘The town is virtually under Boxer control, although the Europeans are gathered in their own area.’
Andrew felt almost relief at the news. Now it meant that Liling would have to remain with them until at least Tungchow.
‘I will pay Liling for the journey,’ John said, confirming Andrew’s hopes.
‘She has no choice,’ Tung said bluntly. ‘She is a woman and does what she is told.’
As the exchange between Tung and John was in English, Liling had not understood. But when Andrew explained in her own language that she would be required to continue upriver and be paid extra she did not mind. This was a grand adventure in the company of a young man she felt herself attracted to although she was realistic enough to understand the gulf that divided them. Liling thrust the pole into the muddy riverbed to propel them past Tientsin and deeper into the heart of China.
The tall stands of reeds at the water’s edge were as still as the air around them and a fine mist hovered over the oily surface. The previous evening they had come ashore in a place Tung remembered was relatively scarce of people and set up camp. A small fire had been lit and a meal of boiled rice flavoured with fish was consumed.
John was dreaming about a large and juicy steak served up on a plate with fried eggs and potatoes. Despite his Asian ancestry he had never really acquired a taste for rice and fish and he missed the aroma of meat sizzling over a fire.
‘Father,’ a voice called and reluctantly John left his dreams behind and emerged into reality.
‘Father,’ Andrew said, shaking his father’s shoulder. ‘Tung has gone.’
John was now wide awake, silently cursing himself for being less vigilant. There was a time when his fine-honed instincts would have warned him but he knew he was getting older and less alert to the world around him.
‘You sure?’ he asked his son, rubbing sleep from his eyes to see a red ball creeping over the horizon of deserted paddy fields. ‘He has not gone for a call of nature?’
‘I have been awake for the last ten minutes and have seen no sign of him,’ Andrew replied, squatting by the embers of the dead fire. ‘Nor has Liling. It seems that Tung also took my money with him,’ Andrew added gloomily.
John was on his feet, scanning the surrounding countryside. All he could see in the far distance was what appeared to be a farmer leading an emaciated water buffalo along a dusty, well-trod track. Overhead, the cloudless sky was a pale blue promising another searing day of heat. Only the sluggishly flowing river nearby held any promise of coolness in the drought-racked land.
‘I would not have picked him for a thief. Maybe he has gone to join his comrades,’ John said, squatting to poke at the grey embers of the campfire with a stick. ‘Whatever he has done we will not be waiting for him. We eat and move on.’
Using their fingers they ate a breakfast of cold, gluey rice from bowls. Liling excused herself for a call of nature. When she was out of sight John turned to his son. ‘You appear to be very captivated by the young lady,’ he said. ‘Just something an old man observes.’
Andrew ducked his head, avoiding his father’s stare. ‘She is very attractive but I know we are worlds apart,’ he replied.
‘You realise that when we find your sister we will be returning to Queensland and you will be going back to your medical studies.’
Andrew nodded. He had not thought about Liling in any light other than a young man’s desire to explore the forbidden with a beautiful young woman.
When Liling rejoined them they cast off and John took over rowing the sampan upriver. Silence prevailed as the sampan glided past riverbanks devoid of the usual signs of habitation and industry. Now and then another sampan or river junk would pass them going downstream but they avoided contact.
Around mid-morning, when the sun was a blazing ball overhead, Andrew’s attention was drawn to a tiny figure gesticulating to them from the shore some fifty yards away.
‘Father,’ Andrew called from the bow to John at the stern. ‘Over there,’ he said, pointing through the heat haze shimmering along the riverbank.
John looked in the direction his son had indicated and could see the figure waving his arms over his head. He shaded his eyes and peered as well as he could. ‘Tung!’ he exclaimed. ‘What in hell is he up to?’
‘Over here,’ faintly drifted to the boat. ‘Over here!’
‘It is Tung,’ Andrew confirmed. ‘He seems to be calling to us.’
‘I know,’ John snorted, wiping his sweating brow with the back of his sleeve. ‘I wonder what the thieving bastard wants? Maybe we should leave him.’
‘I think we should pull ashore and see what he is up to,’ Andrew replied. ‘I am sure that he has a reasonable explanation for taking the money.’
Andrew’s comment convinced John to pole ashore as he too had wondered why a man carrying a fortune would need to steal from them.
Upon reaching the shore Tung did not wait for them to beach the boat but leaped in, carrying a small bundle wrapped in dirty cotton cloth.
‘Hope you have come back to return the money you took,’ John snapped.
‘No, but I used it to buy this for you,’ Tung replied, opening the bundle to reveal a revolver and spare rounds of ammunition. ‘I am surprised that you did not trust me. If I had intended to harm you I would have done so when we camped downriver with the Boxers.’
‘You could have told me what you were up to,’ John said, gazing at the revolver he recognised as a French army issue Chamelot Delvigne from his days as a soldier of fortune in French-controlled Cochin China. He had liked the gun; they had a good feel in the hand.
‘You were all asleep and it was not far to a house I knew of,’ Tung replied, handing the gun and ammunition to John. ‘I thought I would be back before you had eaten. Your lack of trust in me causes me great shame.’
‘I apologise for not trusting you,’ John said gruffly. ‘I appreciate the effort you must have gone to.’
‘It once belonged to a French missionary,’ Tung said. ‘It was stolen and fell into the hands of a man I know here who deals in such expensive merchandise. Needless to say it did not come cheap. The gun is a necessity in these bandit lands.’
John slipped the chamber sideways and checked the load. It was good to be once again armed in this dangerous territory. ‘Time we kept moving,’ he said, placing the spare rounds of ammunition back in the cloth and securing it inside his trousers. At the same time he noticed a look of reproval from Andrew, whose sympathies seemed increasingly to be with Tung.
Fires lit the night sky over Tungchow city.
‘It is the same everywhere,’ John said, balancing himself on the deck of the sampan to gaze at the horizon. ‘It does not bode well for Pekin, considering the city is only about ten miles to the west.’
‘We will have to make our way across land from here,’ Tung said. ‘It will be dangerous. We no longer require the woman’s services so she can be paid off to return to her family.’
‘I wonder if that would be wise,’ Andrew spoke up, ‘considering the distance she has to travel back through areas we know are now under the guns of either the Imperial army or the rebels. I think that she should remain with us until the situation calms down a bit.’
Both Tung and John looked to Andrew, who was sitting near the stern with Liling.
‘We don’t need an extra person with us,’ his father said. ‘It is going to be dangerous enough for the three of us getting from Tungchow to Pekin. Liling would be better off taking her chances travelling home.’
Andrew rose. ‘I disagree,’ he said. ‘I think that we owe her for getting us out of that trouble with the Chinese army. I think she should come with us.’
John could hear the determined edge in his son’s voice. His son’s attraction to Liling was clearly a big factor in Andrew’s concern for her safety. But he also had to admit the girl was intelligent and had travelled with them without complaining of the dangers.
‘The girl returns to her family,’ Tung said bluntly. ‘That was the contract I made with her father.’
‘Maybe we should let the girl decide,’ John said, turning to Liling and breaking into his bad Chinese to ask her what she would decide.
Liling looked to Andrew, then back to John. ‘I would like to go with you to Pekin,’ she said. ‘I would feel safer.’
‘Stupid woman,’ Tung muttered. ‘She does not know the dangers ahead.’
‘It has all been dangerous,’ Andrew said defensively. ‘And she has proved her worth.’
Tung shrugged and turned his back to gaze across the river at the burning city. The girl was of no consequence to him and was free to die with them if she chose so. They would go ashore at night and attempt to bypass the city to reach the other side. Then, by following the main road out of the burning city, they would be guided into Pekin and his mission to deliver the money would be over.
‘We should put ashore and use the night to avoid any rebels or Imperial troops,’ Tung said.
John agreed. The sampan was guided to the riverbank and all the supplies that they would need taken from the boat. John felt elated knowing that he was probably only a night’s forced march from his daughter and by morning he hoped to see the city walls of the ancient Chinese capital.