The Red Miriok

BY

ANNA M. BARNES

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

GEORGE A. NEWMAN

Copyright 1901 and 1902 by the
American Baptist Publication Society
Published January, 1903

From the Society's own Press

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Korea has been called the "Hermit Nation," as of all nations Tibet alone has exceeded it in repulsing foreign influences. Only in 1882 did the United States secure a treaty, and that opened the country to foreign trade only in the capital, Seoul, and three ports. But in this treaty Korea was treated with as an independent State, and its people are distinct from either Chinese or Japanese and well repay study and missionary labors. This little story is one of the first to present this slightly known land and its customs, and therefore deserves special attention from all who are interested in the Christianizing of Oriental nations.

CONTENTS

[CHAPTER I:
Mr. Kit-ze]
[CHAPTER II:
A Hasty Desertion]
[CHAPTER III:
The Lost Recovered]
[CHAPTER IV:
A Stowaway]
[CHAPTER V:
Before the Magistrate]
[CHAPTER VI:
A Friendly Hail]
[CHAPTER VII:
An Entreaty]
[CHAPTER VIII:
The Story of Choi-so]
[CHAPTER IX:
A Theft]
[CHAPTER X:
An Arrested Sacrifice]
[CHAPTER XI:
"One Soul"]
[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES]

ILLUSTRATIONS

["Mr. Kit-ze's hat was moving across the organ"]
['Yes, only a little, for it takes nearly three thousand of
them to make a dollar'"]
["Yes, it was the red miriok"]
["He began to shake him vigorously"]
["Cheefoo prostrated himself to the magistrate"]
["The old man was bolt upright, despite his years"]
["Then, extending his hands, entreated"]
["He was permitted to look ... upon the priests at their
devotions"]
["He forthwith ... proceeded to throw rice into the well" ]
["'Stop!' entreated Helen"]
["'Sorry. Sorry. It was wrong. She showed me'"]

THE RED MIRIOK

CHAPTER I

MR. KIT-ZE

here is one thing I forgot to mention," said Mr. Reid, resuming the conversation. "If we do undertake our sampan journey, we must have Mr. Kit-ze. I have already talked to him about it."

"Oh, father!"

The expression of Clarence's face so emphasized his protest that nothing beyond the mere exclamation was necessary.

"Why, Clarence, what could be the objection to Mr. Kit-ze?"

"A good one, father. He is such an eel-like fellow. I know we couldn't depend on him. Then it strikes me that his mind isn't right. He's always muttering to himself and clutching his breast in such a queer way. Oh, I'm sure it would be a bad step to take Mr. Kit-ze."

"That is just like a boy!" declared Helen, his sister, "jumping at conclusions."

"You mean girls," retorted Clarence. "They fairly spring at them; yes, reach out their arms to grasp 'em as they spring."

"Come, children, don't spar," warned Mr. Reid. "But, my son," turning to Clarence, "I fear it is as your sister asserts, you have arrived at conclusions too hastily with reference to Mr. Kit-ze. He is a little strange in his manner, I'll admit; but his friends, some of whom belong to the mission, tell me that he is a very good sort of fellow, honest and well-meaning, though he is rather grasping as to money matters."

"He is well-meaning," asserted Helen; "and I think the reason he is so close about money is because he has many who are dependent on him. Yes, I like Mr. Kit-ze. Though some of his ways are strange, yet he is good-natured and kind when you know him well."

"Guess, then, I don't know him well," admitted Clarence.

"No; and until you do, you won't like him."

Clarence whistled, and reached over to give the tail of Nam-san, the monkey, a twist, which that quick-tempered little animal resented by scratching at him and then springing away.

"I think I know what is the matter with Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid, as though in sudden comment after following a line of thought. "He is a religious enthusiast."

Helen looked at him quickly, a glad light over-spreading her face. "Oh, father, I didn't know that Mr. Kit-ze had been converted. That is news."

"I don't mean that, Helen. I wish that it were true, for I have been working earnestly to that end for more than a year. What I have reference to is that he is an enthusiast in his own religious belief."

"Why, I didn't know, uncle, that these people had any religious belief," said his nephew, Mallard Hale, who for a few moments past had not joined in the conversation. "I believe, yes, I am sure I have seen it stated that as a country Korea is practically without a religion."

"That is true in one sense, Mallard, but not in another. While Korea has no established religion, what might be called a national religion, as have China, Japan, and her other neighbors, yet such of the Koreans as have not individually embraced Buddhism, Confucianism, and the like, are given over wholly to ancestral and to demon worship, especially the latter."

"What do you mean by demon worship, uncle?"

"They believe in spirits of all degrees, good, bad, and indifferent, but principally the bad. They fill the air around them; they dwell in their homes; they sit at their feasts; they even perch upon such portions of the human body as suits them. They bring evil or good as they are angered or appeased. To counteract the influence of the evil demons the people carry about with them certain charms to frighten them away. Around their habitations, especially in the country districts, they erect these grotesque figures having resemblance to the human form, the more hideous the better. They are called mirioks. In the cities, where there is little space for such erection, the figures, considerably diminished in size, are either kept in the homes or carried about the person. In many instances this devotion to mirioks amounts to fanaticism of the most pronounced kind."

"Oh, yes, that is just what Mr. Kit-ze does!" exclaimed Joyce, the younger son of the family. "He carries it around in his bosom. Sometimes he takes it out and talks to it. I have seen it. Oh! it is the ugliest little red thing!"

All eyes were now turned inquiringly upon him. "I believe, yes, I am sure," he continued, "if I were to see it in the black dark, I'd run from it."

"Why, how could you see it in 'the black dark'?" quizzed Mallard.

Joyce flushed as the laugh went around at his expense, then he answered: "Oh, I mean if it were so I could see it even a little bit. I am sure I could see its eyes, for they are made out of something that just glitters and burns."

"It is as I supposed," said Mr. Reid; "Mr. Kit-ze is an enthusiast on the subject of this miriok. This accounts for his strange behavior, his mutterings, and the clutchings at his breast. He keeps the miriok there in the folds of his gown. He believes that it wards away the evil spirits and invites the good. On other subjects I am sure he is all right. At any rate, if we are going to attempt that journey up the Han we shall be almost dependent on him. He not only has the largest sampan and is considered the safest boatman on the river, but he also knows the way better, having ascended higher than any other, I am told."

"Then, uncle, we must have him by all means," said Mallard decisively.

"Yes," added Clarence somewhat flippantly, "red miriok and all."

"Yes, even the red miriok to get Mr. Kit-ze," declared Mallard. Then he asked, "Isn't the journey attended by some degree of danger?"

"With considerable danger at some places, I understand, Mallard; and this is why we should have a stout sampan as well as a sampan man who understands both his business and the river."

The family of Rev. Mr. Reid, missionary at Seoul, Korea, consisted of his wife, her widowed sister, his two sons, Clarence and Joyce, and his daughter, Helen. Mallard Hale, an American youth of seventeen, had recently come to make his home with his uncle. He was only a few months older than Clarence, and the two cousins were very fond of each other. Helen was nearly fifteen and Joyce twelve.

For some days they had been talking of this sampan journey up the Han. Mr. Reid had long wanted to take such a trip into the interior for the purpose of making observations of the country and of studying the conditions of the people along the south branch of the Han. It was reported to be a wonderfully attractive and fertile section, with a people whose manners and customs, differing from those in the cities, made them of deep interest to the traveler. They were described as quiet and peaceful, given to hospitality, and fairly burning with curiosity.

The Mission Board, under the auspices of which Mr. Reid labored, had for some time contemplated the establishment of a branch mission in the interior. They were waiting for him to decide the point where it should be located. He had hesitated a long time about undertaking the sampan journey because as yet there had not been sufficient money to defray the necessary expenses. But the coming of his nephew, Mallard Hale, had quickly done away with this obstacle. For Mallard was comfortably fixed as to income, and he insisted on bearing all the expense of hiring and propelling the sampan, while his uncle was left to provide only for provisions and equipments.

"Then, uncle," said Mallard, after they had talked a little further, "let us decide positively on going, also that we take Mr. Kit-ze and his sampan."

"Yes, red——" began Clarence, but the words were cut short by an exclamation from Joyce.

"Why," he cried, "here is Mr. Kit-ze now!"

Sure enough, Mr. Kit-ze was coming in. It was just after dinner, or opan, as they would say in Korea, and Mr. Kit-ze was still caressing his lips with his tongue, well pleased with the toothsome morsels that had gone to comfort his stomach. He was a little stouter and taller than the average man of his race, standing five feet six in his sandals, weighing, perhaps, one hundred and sixty pounds, and was fifty years of age. His complexion, originally of a bright olive, had now a deep tan through the action of sun and winds. He had a straight nose, but rather distended nostrils, the oblique Mongolian eye, while his hair, of a deep russet-brown smeared with lampblack, was wound in a knot at the top of his head.

Mr. Kit-ze had on the loose white robe of his countrymen, with flowing sleeves, that fell just below the knees. It was belted in with a girdle of straw. Beneath it showed his baggy trousers, gathered in at the ankle. A katsi (hat), in shape like a flower pot turned down over a table, wadded stockings, and sandals of straw completed his attire. When he removed his hat, on Mr. Reid's invitation, there was a little tight-fitting skullcap of horsehair underneath, carefully placed on top of his knot of hair. He seemed solicitous about his hat, not knowing just where to place it. It was, indeed, a huge affair for a hat, the brim being nearly six feet in circumference. At home Mr. Kit-ze had his swinging case for his hat, but here he was at a loss as to its disposal. Helen at length came to the rescue and placed it on top of the organ, where it rested, one portion of the brim lying upon a large music book, the other flat upon the surface of the instrument.

"Well, Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid, "are you ready to take another journey with your sampan up the South Han?"

Instead of replying to this question, Mr. Kit-ze suggested: "Better go up the North Han, honorable instructor. There are the Diamond Mountains."

Clarence jumped up suddenly, shouting out his delight: "Yes, father, let's go to the Diamond Mountains. Oh, won't that be glorious?"

"And pick up treasure," suggested Helen; "enough to build the new mission chapel that is so needed," she added, her eyes taking on a deeper glow as she glanced at her father.

"Why, are there really any treasures to be found in those mountains?" asked Mallard, catching the excitement.

Mr. Kit-ze, who understood enough of the language to catch the drift of the question, quickly replied: "Yes, honorable sir, there are treasures. Two gentlemen from your country got a whole wallet full of diamonds in the mountains last week. They say they can be picked up like bamboo reeds after a freshet."

"Only Mr. Kit-ze's enthusiasm," said Mr. Reid in an aside to his nephew. "Some one has been filling him with the story, which is vastly exaggerated, I am sure. But later in the year, Mallard, if you desire it, we can make the trip to the Diamond Mountains. Now my Master's business calls me in another direction."

"All right, uncle, that Diamond Mountain trip can wait. Yes, we'll take it later," he added after a pause.

"Is your sampan ready, Mr. Kit-ze?" Mr. Reid now asked.

[MR. KIT-ZE'S HAT WAS MOVING ACROSS THE ORGAN! ]

"Not quite, exalted master; but your servant can make it ready in a day or so."

"Are you sure of that? We should like to start by Tuesday of next week; and when we are ready we want the sampan ready. You understand?"

"Most learned teacher, it shall be as you wish," Mr. Kit-ze assured him, with a bow that brought his forehead almost to the floor.

A full understanding was now had; the day set, arrangements perfected, and the amount of Mr. Kit-ze's remuneration satisfactorily adjusted.

Mr. Kit-ze arose to go. All this time, having declined the chair offered to him, he had been squatting upon his heels, his legs doubled back under him. Considering the position, it was surprising how quickly he got up. He had barely gained his feet when a sudden cry that startled them all escaped him. He was gazing straight toward the organ, his features growing rigid, his eyes dilating. Following his gaze, it took them only an instant to discover what was the matter—Mr. Kit-ze's hat was moving across the organ, moving as though it had feet and were walking.

CHAPTER II

A HASTY DESERTION

he pupils of Mr. Kit-ze's eyes grew larger and larger. They seemed ready to burst into flame. He began to mutter: "The spirit! the spirit! It has attached itself to my hat! It will now attend me home and stay there; how long, I do not know." He made a sudden movement toward the door. He was evidently going away without his hat. Nothing could induce him to touch it while the spirit had taken hold of it in so demonstrative a way. Plainly his thought was that it was better to lose the hat than to run the risk of contact with the spirit.

His movement was hasty, but, quick as he was, Helen acted more quickly. In an instant of time, as it were, she had grasped the whole situation. Her eyes too had done her good service. Her glance in the direction of the moving hat had shown her what Mr. Kit-ze did not see, nor even the others at first, an inch or so of snake-like tail showing beneath the rim of the hat. She sprang toward the organ, quickly threw up the hat, and exposed to view the whole furry body of Nam-san, the monkey, who began to chatter at her indignantly, the shrill notes heard above the burst of laughter that now came from the others.

Mr. Kit-ze was just backing out of the doorway, but he paused as Helen's quick movement disclosed Nam-san under the hat.

"You see it is the monkey, Mr. Kit-ze," said Helen smiling. "He is a mischievous little beast, and doesn't respect anything that he can have his fun with; not even your hat, Mr. Kit-ze. But he hasn't hurt it. See, it is all right!"

She advanced toward Mr. Kit-ze bearing the hat. She held it toward him, but he did not take it. He still seemed alarmed, and his glance was nervous.

Seeing the condition Mr. Kit-ze was still in and his attitude toward the hat, Mr. Reid now came to Helen's assistance. "There has no harm befallen the hat," he assured Mr. Kit-ze. "It was only the little beast under it, as you saw, that was causing it to move. It is all right now, my friend," and he took the hat from Helen and held it toward Mr. Kit-ze.

Mr. Kit-ze still hesitated, but, after further reassuring words from Mr. Reid, he consented to receive the hat. Yet he did not put it on; he turned away, holding it gingerly between his thumb and one finger. After he had gone, they found it on the doorstep, a mark apparently made with red chalk drawn all around the rim.

"The superstitious old crank!" exclaimed Clarence in disgust; "what made him leave his hat with us? Why didn't he take it away and destroy it, if he was that afraid of it?"

"I think he left it as a reproach to us," said Mr. Reid. The eyes around him sought his inquiringly.

"It is a hint that, as the misfortune befell it here, and he is now deprived of his hat, we should replace it with another."

"And how will Mr. Kit-ze feel toward us, uncle, if we do not?" asked Mallard.

"I fear not very pleasantly, for a while, at least," replied Mr. Reid.

"Then the new hat must go to him by all means," said Mallard. "We can't afford to start off with our sampan man in the pouts."

"No, indeed," assented Helen.

So the next day they sent Mr. Kit-ze a new hat, with expressions of regret at what had happened, and with the assurance that the other hat had been destroyed.

"For that is what he expects of us," Mr. Reid had said. "He drew the red chalk mark so as to confine the spirit within the hat, then left the hat for us to destroy, together with the spirit. All pure foolishness," he concluded, a little emphatically. "We'll just throw the hat aside."

"No, father," said Helen decisively, "we will burn it."

"And thus encourage Mr. Kit-ze in his silliness?" asked Clarence.

"In his superstition," corrected Mr. Reid.

"But it is all so real to him, poor man!" said Helen. And she continued, her eyes softening: "If it will make him feel better to know it is destroyed, isn't it worth while?"

"Yes," assented Mallard heartily, "it is. We'll burn the hat, my Helen. I'm sure uncle won't object."

"Oh, no," assented Mr. Reid. "If Helen wants to take the trouble, let her do it."

A day or two later Mr. Kit-ze came again. He had on his new hat, and was in the best of humor. Especially did his face express pleasure when Helen, carrying him to a spot in the yard, showed him the small pile of ashes to which the hat had been reduced. He stooped hurriedly, gathered them up, and, holding them in his palms, blew his breath hard upon the mass, scattering it to the four winds. Then he grunted with satisfaction, and, going down on hands and knees, made Helen a series of the most profound bows.

He had come to tell them that the sampan was ready, but on account of the great danger of the shoals near Seoul, they must make their arrangements to start from Han-Kang, four miles from the city. Themselves and their supplies could be transported thither by pony-back. Mr. Kit-ze further informed them that he had secured, as both interpreter and assistant boatman, one Mr. Cheefoo, a graduate of the government schools. He had recently fallen upon hard ways, and was glad enough to earn a little for himself, as well as to see some of the world, even if it were only his own country. Mr. Cheefoo would be sent to assist them with the loading, and to guide them to Han-Kang, where Mr. Kit-ze and the sampan would be found awaiting them.

Mr. Chefoo came a day ahead of the time set for starting, for the supplies must be carefully packed into bales ere they could be loaded. He had too, some suggestions from Mr. Kit-ze as to what to take and how to take it. The selection of the necessary provisions and other supplies had cost them much thought and planning. They knew they must not overload the sampan, as much as they might want to take some things. On the other hand was the danger of starting out with a too meagre supply. They finally decided on the following: seventy-five pounds of flour, thirty pounds of rice,—they expected to buy more of this on the way,—a half-bushel of beans, a strip or two of dried beef, a small amount of meats in cans and of tomatoes for soups.

"We can get eggs and vegetables from the country people," said Mr. Reid, who had traveled some in the interior districts, "and there will be fish in the river to be caught."

The other supplies consisted of a brazier for charcoal, a frying pan, saucepan, and kettle, some drinking mugs of stoneware, plates and soup plates of tin, knives, forks, and spoons, the latter of wood. Mallard had his camera, and Clarence the fine Winchester which his cousin had presented to him. In addition, each traveler carried a rubber coat, a pair of blankets, and two changes of underclothing. One thing they came near forgetting, but Mrs. Reid's forethought caused them to include it among the stores almost at the last minute. This was a little case of medicines.

It was an excited and happy party that rode away from the mission house early on the following Tuesday morning. In addition to Mr. Reid, Mallard, Helen, Clarence, and Joyce, there were Mr. Wilburn, a young missionary from another station, and his sister, Dorothy, a very dear friend of Helen. Indeed, for two years past the girls had been almost inseparable. Mr. Reid's native assistant in the mission work and his wife were to be the companions of Mrs. Reid and her sister during the two weeks the party expected to be away.

They moved through the narrow streets, so narrow that it was necessary to go in single file. Even that was difficult at times, for, though the hour was early, a mass of people was beginning to stir abroad. Along each side of some of the streets ran a gutter, green with slime and thick with all manner of putrid matter. The low mud huts, with their queer, horse-shoe shaped straw roofs, were set so close to this it seemed that any one coming out of the door must fall into the slime if he were not careful. All along the streets dogs and children were tumbling about, sometimes rolling the one over the other. Even the close observer would have found it hard to decide which was the dirtier, dog or child.

"Oh, my, the dirty youngsters!" exclaimed Mallard, as he picked his pony's way gingerly along, sometimes finding it quite difficult to keep from riding right upon a squirming little mass of humanity. "Where are the mothers," he continued, "to let them run so into danger?"

"You will soon find out, Mallard," replied his uncle, "that the Korean woman has her hands too full of the major duties of washing and ironing to attend with any degree of success to the minor one of looking after her children. There! do you not hear that strange rat-ta-tat noise? That is made by the wooden club coming down upon the garment wrapped about its iron cylinder. Wherever you go over Seoul, at almost any hour, day or night, you can hear that familiar sound. It denotes the Korean slave-wife's battle with the white clothes of her lord and master, which must receive a certain amount of gloss, or there will be a storm in the domestic sky."

As they came out through the massive stone arches of the great South Gate, its lofty drum chamber with tiled roof overhead, a new world seemed to burst upon them. They could see plainly now the line of mountains and the nearer circlet of hills, the latter flower-crowned and sparkling like jewels in the golden light of the sun. Brilliant, indeed, was the coloring where the rich clusters of azaleas grew, and the tangled masses of clematis and honeysuckles. Butterflies and dragon-flies flitted through the air; numerous ducks and geese hovered along the edge of the river, now alighting and skimming the water for a few moments, then dipping wing to fly away. Flocks of cranes waded in and out of the shallow places, hunting for small fish to seize. All around was the beauty and the glory of the spring,—matchless skies, bursting flowers, and singing birds,—such a spring as makes Seoul and its surroundings a joy to eye and heart, never to be surpassed, always to be remembered.

They took the path along the river, and in a little more than an hour's time had reached Han-Kang, where they found Mr. Kit-ze and the sampan, both in fine trim and ready to be off. Mr. Kit-ze had changed his white clothing for his boatman's suit, which consisted of a blouse and Turkish trousers of coarse blue cotton cloth. He was very proud of his sampan, and insisted on showing them its various fine points as well as dwelling upon them.

"Never has such a craft gone up the waters," he declared; and indeed it did look workmanlike alongside of those usually seen on Korean streams. To begin, it had two very essential qualities—it was strongly made and it was well calked throughout. From fore to aft it measured thirty-six feet, was seven in width at its widest portion, and drew six to seven inches of water.

At Mr. Reid's request, Mr. Kit-ze had rigged up a new and a more substantial roof along the ridgepole and its supporting framework. This was composed of thick, water-tight mats of tough grass. There were also curtains of the same material that could be fastened along the sides in case of rain or when the glare of the sun was too strong. This roof was only about five feet from the floor of the sampan, so that it was very plain to all eyes that most of its occupants would have to content themselves with sitting or with standing in a stooping posture. The boat had five compartments, three of them from seven to eight feet long, and the other two only small affairs indeed. One of the latter was in the bow of the boat and the other at the stern. Here the boatmen stood to pole the boat during the day, and in them they curled down to sleep at night, each rolled in a straw mat and with the side of the boat as a pillow.

"All hands to the stores!" announced Mr. Reid. "The more quickly we have them in and are off the better. The sun will be pretty warm after a while."

Mr. Chefoo had brought along a young man to carry the ponies back, and he too was anxious to begin his return journey. So all hands set to with a will, even Helen and Dorothy assisting "like good fellows," as Clarence expressed it.

Mr. Kit-ze, following Mr. Reid's instructions, had previously carried aboard the sampan a supply of charcoal and some bundles of faggots. It was only the stores brought by the ponies that now had to be loaded.

One thing amused Mallard greatly. This was the shape in which most of their money to be spent on the way had to be brought, strung on cords of straw. And the amount had proved almost a full burden for one pony, though in all it was only about twenty dollars. What queer looking coins they were! of copper, with a small square hole through their center.

[YES, ONLY A LITTLE, FOR IT TAKES NEARLY THREE THOUSAND OF THEM TO MAKE A DOLLAR.]

"This is our often abused but ever available 'cash,'" said Mr. Reid, holding up one of the crude bits of metal for Mallard to see. "As there are no bankers or money changers on the way, we must take it with us, for it is the only coin accepted in the rural districts. We must have a little ready money with us," he added.

"Oh, uncle, you call that a little?" and Mallard pointed to the pony with his burden of coin.

"Yes, only a little, for it takes nearly three thousand of them to make a dollar."

Mallard recalled his uncle's words now, as he was helping to store the coin away in what Helen and Dorothy had termed the sitting room of the sampan.

He had turned to address a merry remark to Helen when he was struck by the appearance of Mr. Kit-ze. The boatman had stopped in the midst of something he was doing as suddenly as though he had felt the force of an electric shock. He had thrown his head up and was now clutching nervously at the folds of his blouse. Almost at the moment that Mallard's eyes were directed upon him he uttered a sharp little cry. It was of sufficient compass to reach the ears of the others. As their eyes too were turned upon him, what was the astonishment of all to see Mr. Kit-ze the next moment rush up the bank to where one of the ponies, with empty saddle, was standing, and flinging himself upon it, go galloping away like one suddenly out of his senses.

CHAPTER III

THE LOST RECOVERED

xclamations of astonishment and of dismay followed Mr. Kit-ze. "What can he mean?" asked Mr. Reid, his eyes fixed in wonder upon the fast-retreating form of his boatman. "He surely hasn't deserted us!"

"It evidently looks that way," replied Mr. Wilburn.

"Now we are in a box!" exclaimed Clarence. "How are we to go on without our sampan man?"

"Well, we have the sampan," remarked Mallard cheerfully. "The only other thing now is to look out for some one to take charge of it."

"Easier said than accomplished," commented Mr. Reid. "Besides, though Mr. Kit-ze has deserted us, yet the sampan is his. We can't take possession without his consent."

"He has forfeited his right to protest against such a step," declared Mr. Wilburn, "by his desertion and breach of contract. I am for taking possession of the sampan, engaging some one to have charge of it, assisted by Mr. Chefoo here, then allowing Mr. Kit-ze so much for its use."

"But a competent sampan man is hard to find," said Mr. Reid. "That was why I stuck to Mr. Kit-ze."

"Oh, but it is too bad to lose our trip!" exclaimed Mr. Wilburn, "especially when so much relating to our work depends on it," and he looked wistfully at Mr. Reid.

"Yes, too bad," assented Mallard.

"Oh, we must go," declared Clarence.

Even Helen and Dorothy were for going on, that is, if satisfactory arrangements could be made.

"But maybe Mr. Kit-ze will return," suggested Helen.

"Yes," said Mr. Chefoo, who now spoke for the first time, "he will return." All turned to look at him inquiringly. He had spoken very positively.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because, honorable sirs, he went away as one who will come back. There was no parting word. He will return."

"He didn't have sense for any parting word," commented Clarence. "It seemed all taken from him."

"No," asserted Mr. Chefoo, "it was only the excitement that comes when one knows there has been a loss."

"'A loss'!" echoed Clarence.

"Yes; Mr. Kit-ze has either lost something of very great value, for which he has now gone to make search, or else he has forgotten something that he has gone to bring. It is one or the other as you will in time discover, son of the honorable teacher."

"But why act in that demented way? Couldn't he have explained to us, and then gone after it in a respectable fashion?"

"It was something by which he set so great a store, youthful sir, that he was overcome by what its loss signified to him. I should say," continued Mr. Chefoo, "that it is something without which he could not proceed, or without which he——"

Here Mr. Chefoo paused.

"Well?" asked Clarence.

"Without which he would fear to go on."

"I see!" exclaimed Mr. Reid. "It was——"

"Let me finish, father," cried Clarence. "It was the red miriok. That old crank has either left it or lost it. Now we must be tied up here waiting his pleasure."

"Yes," said Mr. Reid in a disgusted manner, "it was the red miriok that carried him off in that demented way; I am sure of it. But don't call him a crank so boldly, Clarence. It would offend him should he hear it."

"Well, what else is he? It is just too bad to be deserted in this way and for such silliness. Oh, I wish that the red miriok was in the bottom of the river."

"Then, we'd never get Mr. Kit-ze to proceed," assured Mr. Wilburn, who by this time had heard the story of the red miriok; "or at least not until its counterpart was procured. But we can't stay here," he continued. "We must, at least, try getting on to the next village. There Mr. Kit-ze can join us. We'll leave word for him. This is a very objectionable locality for more reasons than one, and the sooner we move away from it the better."

In the meanwhile a large crowd had gathered, both on the river bank and in the shallow water surrounding the sampan. All were agape with curiosity. It is a well-known saying in Korea, and one the truth of which travelers have often proved, that if you move on, very little comment is excited; but if you stand still and appear to be engaged in anything, or even to be looking at an object, curiosity of the most intense kind is aroused. It takes but a minute or two then for the crowd to gather around you, each individual member thereof following anxiously the glance of your eye and hanging with almost breathless intent upon every movement of hand or leg.

There were women and children in the crowd as well as men. The former were so overcome by their curiosity that they had for the time forgotten to keep their long, green coats close up about their eyes, which is the custom when women are abroad in Korea. They now hung loosely about their necks, the long, wide sleeves that are rarely used swinging over their shoulders.

An old woman with much vigor of speech offered them barley sugar for sale. She was very dirty, and her wares looked as uninviting as herself. But feeling sorry for her, Helen invested quite liberally in the barley sugar, immediately bestowing it upon a little group of open-mouthed children who stood near. In some way the old woman had caught a part, at least, of the situation. She seemed to comprehend that they were at a loss whether to go on or to stay. In return for Helen's graciousness she came to the rescue by suggesting that they send for a mutang (sorceress) who lived near. She would come with her drum and cymbals, her wand and divination box,[1] and in a little while she could tell them what to do.

The sun was now climbing nearer and nearer the meridian, and its rays were growing unpleasantly warm. More than an hour had been wasted since the loading of the sampan. They had burned the bridge behind them, as the saying is, by sending the man back to the city with the ponies. There was nothing now but to go on, even if they had to turn back in the midst of the journey.

Mr. Chefoo was the good fairy that came to the rescue. He seemed to regret Mr. Kit-ze's behavior keenly, and to be deeply sympathetic with the sampan party in its desire so plainly expressed to be off on the journey. He was a big, good-natured fellow, strong and hearty looking, with a clear eye and with much intelligence expressed upon his face. He had too, a pretty fair scope of English, which made his attendance all the more satisfactory and agreeable.

Mr. Kit-ze, he continued to assure them, would return. He felt certain of it. They would leave word for him and proceed to the next town, since this one was so objectionable with its foul smells and its rather rough-looking population. The first step then, was to hire a man to help him pole, as he felt certain he, Mr. Chefoo, could direct the movements of the sampan up to the next village. There were no rapids of any considerable danger in the way.

"All right, Mr. Chefoo," said Mr. Reid. "Go ahead and hire your man, but be sure he is one on whom we can rely."

"I'll have a care to that, honorable teacher," assured Mr. Chefoo.

The first man approached declared that he couldn't go, as his wife needed him to sit and watch her while she washed the clothes. The second one said he must first ask his mother and, as she lived two villages away, they must wait until the following morning ere he could give them his answer. The third wished to know if he would be permitted to take as many as seven suits of clothes with him, as he could do with no less; also if provision would be made for their washing and ironing along the way. On being assured that no such concession could be granted he went away much aggrieved.

Another said he would gladly attend them as their poleman if they would promise not to tie up anywhere along the bank where there were tigers, or even where tigers were known to have been on the surrounding hills. As they could give no such promise with the prospect of fulfilling it, he too had to be dismissed without an engagement. He then tried to drive a sale with them of two tiger bones at three hundred "cash" each, warranted to give strength and courage. As they hadn't the faith he had in the efficacy of the commodity, the purchase was declined. Another hour and more slipped by in this way.

Things were growing lively, if they were somewhat monotonous, for a great crowd was now surging about Mr. Chefoo, Mr. Reid, and Mr. Wilburn. The boatman had them with him for the purpose of consultation. To add to the hubbub a string of oxen and their drivers on their way to the city, the backs of the oxen piled with mountains of brushwood, had drawn near the men, the drivers overcome by curiosity at the sight of the crowd. Between their yells and shouts to the oxen and their noisy salutations passed to those they knew, there was a babel indeed.

In the very midst of these sounds came a sudden cry, sufficiently loud and prolonged to attract the attention of many. While the bargaining with the would-be polemen went on, the young people had gathered within the sitting room of the sampan, that is, all with the exception of Clarence. He had stretched himself along the stern of the boat. His head was lying on his hand upheld by the elbow. Thus it was considerably elevated, and thus he had a fair view of the water all around the sampan.

The Han is often called the River of Golden Sands. It is a clear, bright stream, its bed covered with thick layers of white sand. Along this sand particles of golden-hued gravel sparkle in the sunlight as though they were the pure metal itself. In many places, even of considerable depth, the bottom of the river is plainly seen. Where the sampan lay there was only the depth of about two feet of water. This had for a time been stirred into some degree of murkiness by the feet of those who pressed curiously about the sampan. But as the crowd had now withdrawn to the bank, where Mr. Chefoo bargained with the polemen, the river had cleared.

As Clarence lay along the stern of the boat glancing down into the water, his attention was suddenly attracted by something that rested at the top of a little hillock of sand. First its shape, then its color arrested his gaze. The next moment there came that wild shout from him, a compromise between a station-master's train call and an Indian warwhoop. Then those whose attention was now riveted upon him saw him hastily throw off his coat, his shoes and stockings and, quickly rolling up sleeves and trousers, spring into the water. An instant later he held up something in his hand, his shirt sleeve dripping with the water.

"The red miriok!" he cried. "See! Mr. Kit-ze must have dropped it as he leaned over packing the things."

Yes, it was the red miriok.

"Oh, its eyes are shinier than ever!" cried Joyce. "Guess that's cause the water washed 'em. It's the same horrid, ugly thing I've seen Mr. Kit-ze pressing in his hands."

[YES, IT WAS THE RED MIRIOK! ]

"Oh," said Helen, "if Mr. Kit-ze could only know!" Even as she spoke, Mr. Kit-ze was seen coming rapidly toward the river.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A box in which are carried three or more coins with characters stamped upon them. The coins are cast upward three times, falling again into the box. The combination of characters each time gives the mutang her clue to the divination or prediction.

CHAPTER IV

A STOWAWAY

r. Kit-ze had left the pony in town and now came on at a rapid dog-trot. He was covered with dust and perspiration, and his hair, which had been shaken from its knot, was now partly hanging in much disorder down his back. When he had first rushed away, it had been with the thought that the miriok had been left at home, that it had in all probability dropped from his clothing as he slept. But as a rigid search failed to reveal it, he at length came to the conclusion that he had dropped it in or near the river while helping to load the sampan. He had stooped over many times, he knew. Why hadn't he thought of that ere coming away? Yes, the first search ought, by all means, to have been made in and around the sampan. But then he had been so excited over his loss he hadn't taken the time to reason about it at all. Now he would hasten back to the boat and resume there the search for the miriok. Oh, he must find it, or failing, secure another like it. He could not think of going on the journey without his miriok, for would not disaster be sure to befall him if he did? But where was such another as this miriok to be had? As he recalled with what difficulty this one had been secured, Mr. Kit-ze grew more and more excited over his loss. Oh, he must return to the river at once! as there was a chance that he had dropped the miriok there.

Thus Mr. Kit-ze, coming in sight of the sampan, saw Clarence standing in the water and holding something at arm's length over which all were exclaiming. It took only a steady glance to show him what it was. The next moment, with a ringing cry, he endeavored to increase his pace, lost his footing, and went rolling down the slope, stopping just at the water's edge. It was Helen who reached him as he regained his feet. She had taken the miriok from Clarence, and was holding it toward Mr. Kit-ze, saying in her softest, gentlest tones:

"Here, Mr. Kit-ze, is something of yours that Clarence has found in the river. We were so sorry when we knew you had lost it, and are glad now that it can be returned to you."

With a little cry of delight he took the miriok from her, clasped it against his breast, prostrating himself before her almost to the ground. This he did the second and even the third time.

The sudden coming of Mr. Kit-ze, his mishap, and the scene that followed between him and Helen on the river bank had formed considerable of a diversion for a part of the crowd. Even the excitement of Mr. Chefoo's still unsatisfactory interviews with the polemen had, for a time, paled before this newer and greater one. Ere she could extricate herself Helen was surrounded by quite a rabble. Many faces were pressing up about her, but there was one that attracted her attention in such a way that it startled her. It was a somewhat worn and haggard face, with restless, piercing eyes, and a nervous twitching of the lips that impressed itself upon Helen the moment she saw it. She noticed that its owner's gaze soon left her face and fixed itself in the direction of Mr. Kit-ze. The eyes had now a startled look. They were fastened upon the miriok that Mr. Kit-ze was still holding against his breast, but in such a way that it showed plainly. Helen noted this riveted gaze, as she also saw his lips moving. By this time her position had become very unpleasant. She felt too, a little chill of fear as she looked at this man. Was his mind upset? However, Mr. Kit-ze, having recovered his senses along with his miriok, was equal to the emergency. He safely conducted her out of the surging crowd and to the sampan.

Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn, with Mr. Chefoo, being informed of the return of Mr. Kit-ze, joined them as rapidly as they could in view of the crowd that bore them company at the sampan. Considerable satisfaction was expressed at the finding of the miriok, though the two missionaries some hours later expressed themselves quite vigorously to each other on the subject.

Mr. Kit-ze, who had by this time profusely apologized for his sudden departure, was as anxious as the others to be off. There was no need to delay another moment, he assured them. He motioned to Mr. Chefoo to take his place in the stern, while he, grasping his long pole, took a similar position in the bow.

"Hurrah!" cried Joyce, "we are off at last."

He stood up in his delight, clapping his hands and, as the boat was given a sudden turn at that moment, he assuredly would have tumbled over the side into the river had not Mallard caught him.

"Better keep your eye on the polemen hereafter," Clarence advised him, "ere you try any acrobatic performances on a sampan."

They found some difficulty in getting away from the crowd, many of whom followed the sampan for some distance into the water. These Mallard finally turned back by the happy thought carried into execution of tossing a handful of "cash" toward the shore. The last they saw of the village was the scrambling forms in the water, and the line of low hovels, built of mud-smeared wattle, with no vestige of windows and with their black smokeholes plainly defined.

Yes, they were off at last, really afloat on the glorious Han, the river of Korea, which, in two branches, sweeps almost across the peninsula, forming two great waterways, navigable for flat-bottomed craft for more than two hundred miles.

They found the river teeming with moving life. In addition to the flatboats there were many junks passing back and forth, for the Han is the great artery of commerce for the eastern provinces. Those going into the city were laden with produce, pottery, bundles of faggots for firewood, and the like, while those coming out held cargoes of merchandise, both home and foreign, and salt from the seacoast.

Some of these junks were very old. They carried prodigious sails, despite their rotten timbers, and looked as though they might turn over at any moment. The most of them creaked horribly, and when our friends in the sampan heard one for the first time, they thought for a moment it was some great beast in terrible pain. When they found out their mistake a hearty laugh went around.

Though the sun was now quite high, and its rays very warm, yet Mr. Kit-ze knew the stream so well that he could keep near to the bank. Thus for much of the way they had the shade from the trees and from the overhanging bluffs. They found their curtains too, much protection. Their little sitting room was very cozy and comfortable. Helen had brought some oilcloth matting for the floor of the sampan, and a little oil stove that they could light when the air was damp and disagreeable. Here too were cushions, one or two folding chairs, and the bedding which the girls were to use at night, together with the oilskin cases in which they kept their clothing, a small supply of books, writing materials, etc. In the next compartment forward Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn had stored their effects, as they were to occupy it jointly at night. Here all would dine when they were afloat; here too, the service of morning and evening prayer would be held. The three boys slept and kept their effects in the compartment just behind that of the girls. The straw roof along the ridgepole extended over all, even for a part of the way over the small, boxlike quarters of the two boatmen. In addition our party was provided with oilcloths for the better protection of the stores, and with mosquito netting.

"This is fine, even finer than sailing on the Hudson at home!" declared Dorothy, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Or the noble Mississippi, down in our Southland," added Helen. "How pleasant this is! Oh, I had no idea it could be so delightful!"

"You just wait, my sister, until you strike some of the rapids," admonished Clarence, his face taking on a very solemn expression, "and begin to roll about like loose apples in a cart, or find your feet hanging where your head ought to be. Then I'm no prophet if you don't completely change your form of expression."

"Oh, for shame!" cried both girls in a breath.

"I think it is real mean of you," declared Helen, "to try to spoil our enjoyment of the present by introducing into it the suggestion of those terrible things that await us. As for myself, I believe in enjoying what is sweet and good while we have it, without borrowing trouble with reference to what is in the future."

"A philosophy in which I heartily agree," said Dorothy.

There was indeed much to make the trip delightful, for the beauties of the spring were all around them, in the sky, in the water, in the green knolls overhanging the river. The stream continued to be quite shallow. At some places it gurgled over the rocks only a foot or so below the sampan. They came now and then to where the cattle waded knee deep in the lush grasses. These turned to view them in mild-eyed astonishment as they passed by chatting and laughing, then went on with their grazing. Flocks of mandarin ducks and wild geese flew by; some of the latter even swam close to the sampan. There were too, numbers of the imperial crane, and once in a while a pink ibis wading along the edge of a rice field.

Clarence took his gun to shoot one of these, but Helen and Dorothy began to beg for its life. "We don't want to eat it, so why destroy it?" asked Helen.

"Oh, wouldn't you girls like a wing each for your hats?" asked Clarence a little mischievously.

"Oh, no indeed," declared Dorothy. "No bird wing for me! You know that well enough, Master Clarence," and she looked at him reprovingly.

"Well, the truth is," confessed Clarence, "I want it for my cabinet. I know a young Japanese in Seoul who has promised to show me how to stuff all I bring back. In the meantime he has taught me how to preserve them while on the trip."

"If you must do it then in—in the cause of science," and here Helen looked at him quizzingly, "wait until we can't see you commit the murder, won't you?"

"All right," assented Clarence cheerfully. "But see here, sister," with earnest protest, "don't call it murder."

"Well, the cruelty of sport then," corrected Helen.

At that moment a shout from Joyce attracted their attention. "Oh, look at the pheasants!" he cried. "Quick! Clarence, I know you can shoot one or more of them if you try."

Sure enough, there were the pheasants right along the edge of the rice field, fine, fat fellows, and many of them.

"Be careful," warned Mr. Reid. "Examine the surroundings well before you fire. There might be some one near."

Assured that there was not, Clarence raised his gun. "Beg pardon, girls," he said slyly, as he adjusted it to his shoulder. "Pheasants are so good to eat."

They gave a little exclamation, then quickly covered both eyes and ears. The next moment a report rang out, followed instantly by another. When the smoke cleared away five of the birds were seen in their last flutterings.

"Now, how are we to get them?" asked Mallard.

"Why, sure enough, I didn't think of that!" exclaimed Clarence in dismay. "We can't carry the sampan close enough, that's certain."

Mr. Chefoo was now seen throwing off his sandals and rolling up his pantaloons, while Mr. Kit-ze, holding the sampan steady by means of his long pole, was giving him some directions. The next moment Mr. Chefoo sprang over the side of the sampan and into the water. He slipped once or twice as he was trying to make headway over the rocks, and two or three times also, he was seen to mire; but notwithstanding these difficulties he reached the birds all right, and was soon returning with them. As he came again to the side of the sampan it was toward the compartment occupied by the boys, the one in the rear of that in which all had been sitting since the boat left Han-Kang. He placed his hand upon the side of the boat to vault upward, but as he did so a quick exclamation escaped him, which the next moment changed to a decided whoop as Mr. Chefoo landed full in the compartment. A second or so later what was the astonishment of all when he dragged into view by the neck of his blouse a man, and began to shake him vigorously. To Helen was given something more than astonishment. Her heart leaped up, then almost ceased to beat. For the face exposed to view by Mr. Chefoo was the same she had seen on the river bank at Han-Kang with the glittering eyes fixed upon the red miriok Mr. Kit-ze held.

[
HE BEGAN TO SHAKE HIM VIGOROUSLY.]

CHAPTER V

BEFORE THE MAGISTRATE

he man made no effort to resist Mr. Chefoo, neither did he offer a word of protest, but stood silent and sullen, his lean face leaner than ever in its side view, his eyes half closed and gazing steadily downward.

"The rogue!" cried Mr. Wilburn. "He was there for no good purpose. Come, sir, what have you to say for yourself?"

But still the culprit made no answer. He only raised his eyes and let them sweep past Mr. Wilburn, past them all to Mr. Kit-ze, and rest there with a deep and burning glance.

"Speak to him, Mr. Kit-ze," said Mr. Reid. "Find out what was his object in concealing himself in the sampan. It may be," he continued charitably, "that he wanted to steal a ride to one of the villages."

But Mr. Kit-ze, instead of obeying this request, shifted himself a little farther away from the man, and seemed to be intent on something in the river.

"I think Mr. Kit-ze doesn't want to get mixed up in any trouble," said Mr. Wilburn in an undertone. "He probably fears it may end in his having to appear before a magistrate. That always means a fine, you know, whether one is in the right or the wrong. It is evident, brother, that we must adjust this matter ourselves with Mr. Chefoo's help, since Mr. Kit-ze plainly doesn't want to take a hand in it."

But neither threats nor persuasions could elicit a word of reply from the man. Even Mr. Chefoo's fine speeches failed.

"Can he be deaf and dumb?" asked Mr. Reid finally.

"No, father, he is not," replied Helen positively.

All eyes were now quickly turned to her, astonishment plainly written on the faces.

"Why, my daughter, how do you know?"

"Because, father, I saw him in the crowd that surrounded me for a few moments on the bank of the river at Han-Kang. I distinctly heard him talking to himself, though I could not understand the words. I thought at the time," she continued, "from the way in which he regarded Mr. Kit-ze, that they might be acquaintances."

As Helen spoke these last words, she turned her head so as to get a view of Mr. Kit-ze, but he still persistently kept his face turned away, while he seemed to be making aimless search in the river with his pole. He was assuredly doing nothing toward the progress of the boat, since that still remained stationary in the little rocky inlet toward which he had dexterously steered it when Mr. Chefoo had started for the birds.

Desiring that he should understand what Helen had suggested, Mr. Reid repeated it to him. The man was no acquaintance of his, Mr. Kit-ze emphatically declared.

"I think we had better pitch him into the river," said Mr. Chefoo, "and leave him to get out as best he can."

"Yes," said Clarence, "he deserves a ducking, if no more."

"No, we won't be so cruel as that," Mr. Reid replied, "although he may have been after no good. We'll go ashore at the next village and leave him."

"But first," said Clarence, "hadn't you better search him? He may have taken something of value."

"Yes, uncle," said Mallard, "we ought to do that."

To this both Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn consented; but, though close investigation was made, nothing was found on the man, nothing, at least, to which they could lay claim.

Mr. Reid gave the signal for the sampan to be headed again up the river. In the meanwhile, Clarence and Mallard kept watch upon the man, who had now assumed a squatting posture upon the floor of the sampan. To their surprise he began to mutter to himself. But even to Mr. Chefoo the words were unintelligible; all except the part of one sentence. In this Mr. Chefoo said had occurred the words, "Marble Pagoda," but he was evidently still as much mystified as the others.

The village to which they soon came was one of considerable size, picturesquely situated in the midst of chestnut groves. There were too, many beautiful clumps of the umbrella pine over which vines of red and white roses luxuriantly abloom were running riot.

A curious crowd swarmed around them at the landing. There were many in it who had never seen a foreigner. The soft hair and white skins of our friends called forth the most intense curiosity. Ridiculous too, were some of the comments. Question after question was directed to them. Some of these Mr. Chefoo answered. To others he paid no attention.

Who were they? Whence had they come? Were their families respectable? Did their ancestors occupy tombs on the hillside? Could they take off their eyes and pull out their teeth as it had been reported that they could? All of these and many more came in rapid succession.

When it was learned that they wanted to put a man ashore a great hue and cry was at once raised, and it was positively declared that this could not be done until the magistrate was seen and consulted. Thereupon, the magistrate's runners, six in number, appeared and assumed control of their movements. These runners were gorgeous in light blue coats, wide pantaloons of white, and big hats with red tassels.

Yes, the magistrate must be seen, they declared. Nothing else would do. In a rash moment Mr. Reid consented to see the magistrate. It is safe to say that had he known the result he would at once have headed his sampan off up the river again even with its objectionable occupant.

It was finally arranged that Mr. Reid, in company with Mr. Chefoo and the stowaway, should attend upon the magistrate while the others remained with the sampan. At the last moment Clarence begged to accompany his father, and consent was finally given. Mr. Reid could see no reason why the stowaway should be carried along with them, as he had really done nothing for which he could be punished. Their only desire was to leave him ashore. But the runners persisted that it was necessary that he too should go before the justice.

The magistrate was seated on the floor of a small platform over which matting was spread. Around him, also squatting on their heels, were two or three of his assistants. The chief official had on a robe of deep blue silk, slashed to the waist at intervals, and with pipings of orange silk introduced between. Only a small portion of his crimson trousers was showing. On his head was perched a little hat of glazed horsehair ornamented with crimson tassels.

Mr. Reid came into the room and very politely bowed to the magistrate, while Chefoo prostrated himself, as did the runners. Clarence, independent young American that he was, contented himself with saying, "Good day, sir," then began to use his eyes to their fullest extent.

[
CHEFOO PROSTRATED HIMSELF TO THE MAGISTRATE. ]

The magistrate took no notice of their presence. He merely remarked in a high key to his associates that foreigners were really demons, and that he couldn't see why they had ever been allowed in the country. As to himself, he had felt many times like setting up again, on his own responsibility, the tablets which, prior to the treaty, had declared that all foreigners were cutthroats and robbers, and should be killed on sight.[2]

Each of these sentences Mr. Chefoo cheerfully translated to Mr. Reid.

"The old barbarian," declared Clarence. "I feel like giving him a shaking."

The magistrate now deigned to become aware of their presence. "Who are these who have dared to approach me?" he asked in a big, off-hand way, but all the while he was nervously regarding Mr. Reid and Clarence. Foreigners, he knew from experience, were not always the chicken-hearted people they were declared to be.

The runners told him.

"Well, what is you name, and whence do your come?" was asked of Mr. Reid.

The replies came readily.

"How old are you? Has your father gone and left you? and was he an honorable man?"

To each of these, in turn, was given a cheerful response.

"Well, what are you doing in the country, anyhow? Do they know you are away? Do you get a salary? How much is it?"

After all these queries and many more had been answered to the magistrate's satisfaction, he deigned to hear the case that had been brought before him. When each detail had been gone over again and again, the magistrate put his head to one side, looked as wise as an owl for a few moments, and then proceeded to deliver himself of his decision.

By paying five Japanese yen (a yen is one dollar), the man could be left ashore; but none of the rest could depart until he, the magistrate, visited the sampan and inspected its contents. He further added that he might come that evening if business permitted. If it did not, he would wait until morning. In the meantime they were to remain tied up where they were under the supervision of the runners.

On Mr. Reid's protesting against the injustice of having to pay such an amount for the mere privilege of putting a native ashore who had concealed himself in his sampan, the magistrate retorted by assuring him that he would then charge him, the missionary, that amount for having come ashore himself without first having communicated with him, the magistrate. Mr. Reid knew very well that such a proceeding was far from legal, as he had his passport which he had shown, but at the same time he felt it would be better for many reasons to pay the amount than to contest the point.

Fortunately, Mr. Reid had provided himself with a few of these valuable Japanese coins, which he carried on his person; otherwise he would have been subjected to the further delay of sending to the sampan, as the magistrate at once let it be understood that he could not depart until the amount was in hand.

On their return to the sampan they found that the others too, had been having trials in their absence. The curiosity of the crowd had now become almost unendurable. Men, women, and children had even climbed upon the sampan. They had inspected everything. The two girls had called forth the deepest excitement and curiosity. It was their hair that caused the most comment, especially Helen's; it was so soft and bright. For Helen's hair, though her eyes were dark, was of a light chestnut color. One woman had even gone so far as to offer a dozen eggs for a piece of it. Then she wanted to handle it, but this Helen declined. The woman's eyes and her manner made her nervous. But Dorothy, more assured than Helen, took hers from its fastenings, shaking it about her shoulders, then stood beyond reach of the outstretched hands, laughing merrily at the expressions of countenance and the somewhat wild gesticulations.

"Oh, Dorothy, how can you do that?" remonstrated Helen.

"If it gives the poor things any enjoyment, I don't mind," replied Dorothy.

"But don't you see that the sight of it that way excites them the more?"

"Oh, it's good as a show," declared Joyce, almost shouting out in his delight. "Don't you mind sister, Miss Dorothy."

Things were in this hubbub when Mr. Reid, Clarence, and the runners appeared. Mr. Reid joined in the effort to induce the people to withdraw from the sampan, but without success. Then the thought struck him that he would appeal to the runners. It is safe to say he hadn't the least conception of the result or, much as he wanted to get rid of the people, he would have hesitated.

The runners at once charged pell-mell upon the surging crowd, shouting and yelling as though they were seeking to stampede a herd of cattle. Big hats, green coats, topknots, and wide trousers were soon jumbled together in a series of kaleidoscopic flashes, then quiet reigned once more around the sampan. The runners had done them this much good, if no more.

The sun had almost disappeared behind the neighboring hills, and the night, traveling fast in that region, would soon be upon them. Still the magistrate had not appeared. They felt now that he would not come until morning. They were much provoked. Mr. Kit-ze especially showed displeasure. He had planned to reach the next town ere tying up for the night. There had already been too much delay at Han-Kang. He felt considerable compunction over this, and had been doing his best ever since to make up for lost time, and now felt thoroughly exasperated over this unnecessary detention. But there was no other course save to await the magistrate's pleasure.

Supper eaten, with curious eyes all around watching their every movement, Mr. Reid prepared for the evening service. "We will go ashore," he said to Mr. Wilburn, "and take Mr. Chefoo. The others can join in from the sampan."

They had no trouble to gather the people about them. Great was the wonder that spread as the services proceeded. A hymn was sung, a prayer made, a Bible lesson read, which Mr. Chefoo explained. Then with Mr. Chefoo still as interpreter, Mr. Reid began to speak to them. His words were about Jesus, our one ever-loving, steadfast friend. Exclamations of surprise, then of interest, began to be heard. "Could it be possible," they asked each other, "that there was One in the world who could love as this one loved? who could and did give his friendship 'without money and without price'?"

As Mr. Reid ceased speaking, an old man approached him. Would the honorable teacher tell him again the name of this wonderful Friend? When told he kept repeating it over and over. Other touching incidents occurred. Many questions were asked. When Mr. Reid lay down to sleep that night, it was with the happy feeling that more than a passing impression had been made upon some hearts, as it was also with the determination that he would come again to break the bread of life to these hungry souls.

Even when the crowd had left the sampan, scattered by the impetuosity of the runners, Helen still felt nervous. The persistency with which the women had pressed about Dorothy and herself, their incoherent words, burning glances, and fierce gestures had wrought her up to a high pitch of excitement. It was a long while ere she could go to sleep, even though her father assured her that it was to the interest of the runners to keep close watch upon the sampan. When at last Helen fell into slumber, it was to be disturbed by unpleasant dreams. In the midst of one of these she awakened with a start. She surely was conscious now, and what a moment of horror it was! for a rough hand was feeling its way along the meshes of her hair. A voice she knew from both tone and accent was no friendly one, was muttering in a manner that made her heart almost stop its beating.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Before the treaty of Korea with the United States, while yet it was known as the Hermit Nation, tablets bearing inscriptions similar to that quoted by the magistrate were placed at intervals throughout the country.

CHAPTER VI

A FRIENDLY HAIL

elen's first impulse was to scream, but with a great effort she controlled herself. Then, reaching up quickly, she grasped the hand between both of her own, holding on to it tightly. Instantly there was a frightened exclamation, and a violent movement on the other side of the straw curtain almost against which Helen's head lay. The next moment, the hand was wrenched away, and she heard a heavy splash in the water. Peering out through the opening between the curtains, she saw two Korean women moving away from the sampan. Thus she knew her midnight fright had been caused not through any evil intention but from the exercise of pure curiosity. They had but carried into effect the desire for a closer inspection of her hair.

So soundly did the other occupants of the sampan sleep that none of them were aroused by this incident, not even Dorothy. Thus it was an astonishing piece of news to them when Helen told it on the following morning.

Dorothy was overcome by admiration for Helen's coolness. "O Helen, are you sure you didn't scream, not the least little bit? Oh, I never could have taken it as you did," and she drew her breath quickly.

Others besides Dorothy had words of praise for Helen's fortitude. "Nine girls out of ten would have gone into hysterics," declared Clarence.

"Put the percentage lower," warned Dorothy, shaking her fist at him in well-feigned indignation.

"Well, seven out of ten then."

"Oh, that is much better."

It was long after breakfast when the magistrate condescended to appear. Then he kept them waiting an hour or more through his insatiable curiosity, for he must needs inspect everything in the boat, even to the faggots and the chicken coop. But at last they were off. They had been afraid that the man might attach himself to them again ere they left the village. However, up to the time of pushing off, they had seen nothing of him. He had been dropped on the way from the magistrate's the evening before, and evidently that was the last of him.

As they went along now, Mr. Reid and Mr. Wilburn were discussing the event, as well as the man's probable meaning when he had muttered the words "Marble Pagoda." Both missionaries knew of the old Marble Pagoda in Seoul, one of the curiosities of the place, though, strange to say, not many seemed to care to go about it. The natives especially shunned it, that is, a large percentage of them did. They declared that it was filled with demons and haunted by all kinds of evil spirits. It stood in one of the foulest parts of the city, just back of a narrow alley, and all around it were clustered wretched-looking hovels. It was said to be more than seven centuries old. It had been originally thirteen stories, but during the Japanese invasion of three centuries before, three stories had been taken off. Many of the chambers contained the richest carvings, especially that known as the room of the Five Hundred Disciples. That had the images of many of the Hindu divinities.

"I understand," said Mr. Wilburn, "that several bits of detached carving, some of them representing deities, and others the various stages of the progress of Buddha toward Nirvana, or the Buddhist heaven, have been found in the old pagoda up to a time within recent years. There is the story, not very old, of the young assistant of one of the Buddhist priests at a monastery in the mountains, who nearly forfeited his life by stealing one of the images that had been brought from the pagoda, a very rare and valuable one, by the way. But he escaped by the narrowest chance, though the priest hunted and hunted him for a long time, and may be doing it yet, for all I know."

"What a fortunate thing for our missionary labors," remarked Mr. Reid, "that Buddhism was long ago abolished throughout the kingdom, and only a little colony of the priests allowed here and there in remote places."