Inside Canton. Melchior Yvan

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      ​This is how we started:—Four Chinamen, armed with long poles, thrust them to the bottom of the water, and leaning on them with all their weight, caused the rounded belly of the vessel to glide through the liquid mud. When it was afloat, a sailor hung, fastened to the end of a stick, a long chaplet of grenades, the explosive materials of which were enclosed in cylinders of red paper, and then set light to the cartridge which terminated this inflammable chain, so that, as the fire spread from one end to the other, sudden detonations were heard, which sounded like platoon firing, executed by badly-drilled soldiers. During this time, a man at the foot of the mizenmast struck repeatedly on a gong; the dry sharp explosions and the vibrations of the metal harmonised very well; the saltpetre went off with a rumbling noise, like the roll of a drum, while the sonorous vibrations of the gong filled the entire atmosphere, like the waves which extend over the immensity of the ocean. This cabalistic ceremony terminated, we hoisted our sails. The faï-tings have no keel, and draw very little water; everything had been calculated to ensure these vessels the greatest possible speed; hence their name, which signifies "fast boat." A high wave, an unexpected gust, cause the rounded hulls to capsize, but they right with extreme facility. A faï-ting resembles those joyous birds of the sea who disport themselves in the midst of the waves, like ​colts in the high grass. The sails having been hoisted, the vessel seemed to be left to the care of Heaven. A single sailor remained at the rudder; the others went away to take or prepare their meals. Soon at the stern of the vessel columns of steam were seen to rise from the boiling saucepans, in which rice was being cooked, while the most hungry of the crew eat the grains which had already become swollen out by the moist heat, accompanied by dried fish. The passengers walked about, and smoked the detestable tobacco of the Celestial Empire, or they collected in groups, and devoted themselves with phrensy to the fetal passion of gambling. The Chinese, for the most part, are born with a taste either for gambling or gastronomy. They never lose a chance of having a feast. Marriages, births, and burials are all so many pretexts for a banquet. It is the same thing with gambling; a Chinaman plays with dice, with cards, and with his fingers, and, in his eyes, every subject is a subject for betting. Our companions, by way of dramatising the ordinary chances of play, intrusted the defence of their money to some unfortunate fowls, who, in order to satisfy the passions of their masters, engaged in a most desperate combat. In general, all the gallinacious race have warlike instincts, and the Chinese have profited by this martial inclination to teach quails how to kill one another. These birds are much smaller in China ​than with us; their plumage is varied in the same manner; but the quail of the Celestial Empire appears more irascible, more petulant, than its European sister.

      A circle of men crouched together in the unnatural position peculiar to the Chinese, formed the spectators to this combat. The birds were enclosed in baskets of bamboos, with openings at the top, through which it was just possible to pass one's hand, and they were only taken out of this prison to be placed on the field of battle. I assisted at the commencement of the action. The adversaries were removed from their respective cages; their feathers were smoothed, a few words of encouragement were addressed to them, and, with a sharp pinch on the lower part of the beak, they were placed opposite to each other. The birds looked at one another at first with an air of defiance; then, as if moved by the same impulse, they sprang forwards. This first shock decided the victory; one of the combatants seized with his beak of steel the skin which covered his adversary's head, and pulled it back over his eyes. The unfortunate bird who was thus blinded uttered a cry, and ran away. A new enemy was opposed to the conqueror. This one waited firmly for the attack, and when he saw his antagonist rushing towards him, struck out at him with his feet, and upset him. Then profiting by the surprise of his adversary, he took him by ​the throat, tore a quantity of feathers from him, which he threw to the wind, and then resumed his place, waiting bravely for a second attack; but the recent conqueror, like a clever tactician, now prudently beat a retreat. As has been seen, a few passes sufficed to terminate the combat; however, on one occasion, two duellists of equal skill and valour prolonged the struggle for a long time. After each attack they separated to regain force, until, fatigued by their ineffectual efforts, they ceased to fight. In the hands of the avaricious Chinese, they resemble the plumed warriors whom rival ambitions cast upon the field of battle.

      I withdrew from this barbarous spectacle, and went to the rear of the vessel to sit down, near the moveable fire-places, where the sailors were cooking their meals. Whilst I was examining their culinary processes, I suddenly heard the peaceful voice of a cricket, which was chirping in the loudest manner. I experienced a childish pleasure in finding on this floating habitation the guest of our humble hearths, the sprite of the smoky cabin, who, in European climates, continues to sing when all else is silent, as if to remind us of the beautiful days that are past, and to make us think of the slumbering inhabitants of the air, who are soon to be awaked. I went up to Callery. "The Chinese," I said, "are really a patriarchal people; even when travelling they surround ​themselves with everything that can remind them of family life—of the joys of their homesteads. Will you believe that these poor sailors have brought with them the lively singers of the domestic hearth—these dear little crickets, whose voice during the winter mingles with that of the spinning-wheel, who, during the summer, follow the reapers to the fields, in order to repeat to the sound of the sickle the songs they have sung by the fire-side?"

      Callery maliciously allowed me to finish my sentence, and then, with a shout of laughter, said, "You are a strange kind of traveller, my friend; before seeing with your eyes, you see with your imagination. Do you wish to know why the Chinese have brought crickets on board?"

      "Certainly," I replied, somewhat annoyed.

      "Well, then, simply in order to make them fight. These sylphs of the hearth are in their eyes knights in black armour, destined to perish in order to defend the sapeiks of their masters. The betting will soon open, and you will assist at a strange combat."

      In the meanwhile, the cricket I had heard continued his joyful cry, his deep and powerful voice testifying to his robust organisation. Soon afterwards a new singer appeared on the stage. This one had a clear sonorous voice, and was in fact a tenor—a genuine tenor.

      "This is a contest in the style of those ​between Virgil's shepherds," said Callery; "or, if you prefer it, it is a duet between Lablache and Mario."

      "As for the duet," I replied, "in spite of my pacific instincts, I would rather assist at the duel you promised me."

      My wishes were gratified that very moment. Two Chinese took down a couple of cages of bamboo, adorned inside with green leaves, two little palaces filled with silky herbs, and sat down before me. The two palaces contained Lablache and Mario, who were taken out and placed in a porcelain bowl. Lablache was just what I had fancied him from from harmonious testimony of his voice: his rounded paunch caused the segments of his cuirass to bulge out; his powerful forelegs were armed with hooked nails, and through his brown visor could be seen two arched tusks, which lifted up his lips. Mario, on the contrary, was slim and graceful; his black armour fitted tightly round his waist, and his tusks were completely concealed by his mask of steel.

      The two insects endeavoured at first to escape, but the polished sides of the bowl formed an insuperable obstacle to their attempt. Accordingly, they took up their positions at the bottom of the bowl, where they would have probably remained at peace with one another, but for the intervention of Chinese perfidy. The two backers were each armed with a long straw, but in the hands of the wicked the most harmless weapon becomes ​formidable. Mario's master, with the most abominable intention, pushed the blade of grass insolently beneath the nose of his champion; the latter thinking the insult came from Lablache, who at this moment appeared to be beating time with his antenæ, sprang at his head, and struck to the ground the horn on which he laid the guilt. Indignant at this unmerited aggression, the insect that had lost its horn flew at its adversary, and lamed him with the first blow. Mario looked for an instant with stupor at his forefoot, deprived of the right torsus, and listening only to the voice of passion, seized Lablache by the hair, and dragged him three times round the bowl. Alas! it was not Achilles with the body of Hector; for Hector, suddenly СКАЧАТЬ