E-text prepared by Roger Frank
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
()
The two ships, pursuer and pursued, quaintly shaped,with heavy, flapping sails, lay apparently becalmed in asort of natural basin formed by the junction of twosilently flowing, turgid rivers—rivers whose water wasthick and oily, yellow in colour, unpleasant to look at.The country through which they passed was swamp-rivenand desolate, though in the far distance were ricefields and the curiously fashioned roofs of a Chinesevillage. The sun beat down upon the glasslike water.The air was windless. Further movement seemed impossibleuntil from the smaller boat, through unexpectedlyopened hatches, half a dozen oars were suddenlythrust into the water. The huge Chinaman whostood at the helm, yellow-skinned and naked to thewaist, picked up an enormous pole and let it graduallydown into the river bed. The oars, languidly thoughthey were wielded, cut the water, and the dhow beganslowly to move. Wu Abst, the Mighty Terror of theGreat River, as he loved to hear himself described,grinned mockingly as he looked backwards towards hispursuer. He shouted words through the glistening heatintended to convey his contempt of those who fanciedthat he was to be caught napping. Then he bent overhis giant pole and glanced with satisfaction at the distantbank, which already showed signs of their progress.At the bend of the river, not three miles distant, was astretch of water into which no such craft as that whichhad chased him could follow. He relit his pipe, therefore,and smoked like a man at peace, whilst below thesweat rolled from the naked bodies of the men who wereemulating their Roman predecessors of two thousandyears ago. Wu Abst, pleased with their efforts, shippedhis pole for a moment, and, leaning over the side,shouted encouragement and exhortation to the toilers.Then suddenly the words died away upon his lips. Hiswhole frame stiffened. The remains of the grin fadedfrom his face, the whole expression of which was nowalmost ludicrously changed. For across that littlestretch of river came the horrible sound of which he hadheard, the pop-pop-pop denoting the use of some devil-mademechanical contrivance, which triumphed overwindless airs and opposing currents.
His horrified gaze became fastened upon the pursuingship, now also moving, and not only moving, but movingvery much faster than anything which all the efforts ofhis toiling gang were able to accomplish. Bewildermentgave place to anger, which in its turn became mergedalmost at once in the philosophy of his race—the