Chapter 24 Chapter 25: A Glance at Mass Elections

There are many floating docks in the port of San Francisco that rise and fall with the tide, which is very convenient for the loading and unloading of ships.If we can count the floating pier here as the American continent, then we should say that Mr. Fogg, Mrs. Aouda and Passepartout have set foot on the American continent at seven o'clock in the morning.Alongside these pontoons are moored clippers of all sizes, steamers of various nationalities, and multi-decker motorboats specialized in navigating the Sacramento River and its tributaries.There is also a lot of cargo piled up on the pontoon, which will be shipped to Mexico, Peru, Chile, Brazil, Europe, Asia and various islands in the Pacific Ocean.

Passepartout was so happy that he had finally reached the American continent. He felt that he had to jump off the boat with his most beautiful kite turn to express his joy, but when he landed on this messy floating boat, When I was on the pier, I almost fell into a tumble.The young man set foot on the American continent in such a distressed posture.At this time, he raised his voice and let out an astonishing cheer, scaring away a large group of cormorants and gannets that often perched on the pier. As soon as Mr. Fogg got off the boat, he found out that the next train for New York was at six o'clock in the afternoon.In this way, he still has a whole day in San Francisco, the largest city in California.He hired a carriage for Lady Aouda and himself for three dollars.Passepartout climbed into the front seat of the carriage, and the carriage drove immediately to the International Hotel.

Passepartout is condescending and admires this big American city very curiously: wide streets, neatly lined with low houses, Anglo-Saxon-style Gothic cathedrals and chapels, huge docks, and palace-like buildings. Warehouses - Some of these warehouses are built with wooden boards, and some are built with bricks and tiles.There are many vehicles on the street, including carriages and trucks, as well as trams.The sidewalks are filled with pedestrians, not only Americans and Europeans but also Chinese and Indians, who make up San Francisco's two hundred thousand residents. Seeing all this, Passepartout felt very strange.In 1849, it was still a legendary city.Many desperadoes who murdered and set fire and Jiangyang robbers came here to look for raw gold mines.This place has become a place where human garbage is concentrated. People take guns in one hand and knives in the other to gamble on the Sands.But such a "golden age" is long gone.San Francisco today appears to be a great commercial city.The tower of the guarded city hall overlooked the streets of the city.These streets are neatly cut like knives, turning at right angles.The middle of the road is dotted with verdant street parks.Further on is the Chinese Quarter, which really looks like a piece of land from the Chinese Empire shipped in a toy box.Today, in San Francisco, there are no more Spaniards with wide-brimmed felt hats, no gold diggers who like to wear red shirts, no more Indians with feather decorations.They were replaced by countless gentlemen in black suits and silk hats, desperately pursuing fame and fortune.There are several streets lined with luxurious shops, which display on their shelves the products of all parts of the world; Montgomery Street is like this, which can be compared with Regent Street in London, Rue Italiane in Paris, and Broadway in New York.

As soon as Passepartout entered the International Hotel, he felt as if he had not left England. Downstairs of the hotel is a large bar.This kind of bar is a cold food shop that is "free" for customers.There is no charge for jerky, oyster soup, biscuits or cheese.There are all kinds of drinks here: British beer, Portuguese red wine, and Spanish wine. If the customer is happy to come in and have a drink or two, he will only need to pay for the drink.It seemed to Passepartout that this was a very American way of doing business. The restaurant of the International Hotel is very comfortable.Mr. Fogg and Mrs. Aouda sat down at a table, and immediately several handsome negroes brought small plates of food, and they ate a hearty meal.

After the meal, Mrs. Aouda accompanied Mr. Fogg to leave the hotel and went to the British Consulate to go through passport and visa procedures.On the sidewalk, Mr Fogg met Passepartout.Passepartout asked Mr. Fogg if he would buy some Anfield carbines, or some Colts, before boarding the train, just in case.For Passepartout had heard that on this section of the railway there were often Siuians and Baunes robbing trains.They rob trains like ordinary Spanish thieves.Mr Fogg said such concerns were unfounded.But he told Passepartout to take care of himself, and he bought it if he wanted to.Mr. Fogg then went to the consulate.

Mr. Fogg had not gone two hundred paces, and he never dreamed that he would meet him head-on.The detective looked very surprised.What's the matter!Mr. Fogg had crossed the Pacific in the same boat as him, and they had never met on board.All in all, it was a great honor for Fix to be reunited with this gentleman who had done him so much.Fix's present mission required him to go back to Europe, and he was delighted to have such a good companion along the way.Mr. Fogg replied that he, too, was honored.Now Fix would never leave Mr. Fogg again.He asked Mr. Fogg's permission to accompany them to visit this colorful city of San Francisco.Mr Fogg, of course, agreed.

So Mrs. Aouda, Mr. Fogg, and Fix took to the streets together.Before long they were on Montgomery Avenue.This street is bustling with people like a tide. Although carriages and carriages come and go, there are people on the sidewalk, in the middle of the road, and on the tram tracks. The windows of a house, and even on the roof, were filled with countless crowds.People carrying advertising billboards walked back and forth among the crowd; flags and slogans of various colors fluttered in the wind above the heads of the people; people shouted everywhere in all directions: "Hey! Support Carmelfield!"

"Hey! Support Mandubai!" It turned out that this was a mass meeting.At least that's what Fix thinks.So he also told Mr. Fogg what he thought and said: "Sir, we must not get together with these messy people, otherwise, we will only be beaten." "To tell the truth," said Mr. Fogg, "politics and fists are no lighter than ordinary fists." Fix thought he ought to laugh at Mr. Fogg's argument, and so he did.In order not to get involved in the melee, Lady Aouda, Phileas Fogg, and Fix went up to the top of a stairway.This leads to a high rise overlooking Montgomery Avenue.On the opposite side, separated by a road, are the wharf of a coal company and the warehouse of an oil company; in the open space between the warehouse and the wharf, there is a large podium, and people from all directions are gathering towards that open space.

What is this mass meeting for?Why hold this conference?Phileas Fogg was completely ignorant.Is it to choose a senior civil servant or military officer?Or to elect a head of government or member of parliament?The sight of this scene, which threw the whole city into a state of extreme excitement, gave rise to various speculations. At this moment, there was an astonishing commotion among the crowd.Countless hands were raised.Amidst the clamor, some people clenched their fists and raised them high, as if they were about to hit them all at once.In fact, this gesture probably means nothing more than a firm determination to vote for someone.

The commotion stirred the crowd, and the crowd stirred up a new commotion.Countless flags fluttered over the heads of the people, disappeared in the crowd, and were lifted up again. At this time, those flags had turned into tattered pieces of paper.Suddenly the turbulent sea of ​​people expanded in all directions, and they had reached the front of the steps where Fogg and the others stood. Countless human heads were seen wriggling in all directions, like a gust of wind and rain hitting the vast and boundless sea. "It must have been a mass meeting," said Fix. "They must have been discussing an exciting subject, probably about the Alabama affair, and I don't find it surprising that the matter has long since been settled."

"Perhaps so," replied Mr. Fogg simply. "However, depending on the circumstances," said Fix, "it's clear that the two rivals, Mr. Camerfield and Mr. Mandiba, have met." Madame Aouda held Phileas Fogg's arm and looked at the commotion in front of her in panic.Fix was ready to ask those standing beside him why the crowd was so excited.At this moment, there was a sudden more violent commotion.There was deafening cheers and curses.The flagpoles in everyone's hands have become weapons to attack each other.The hands that were raised just now are now fists, and there are fists everywhere.The traffic was stopped in the street, and the carriages were immobilized, and on the roofs of these people were violently beating each other.Anything is used as a throwing weapon.Boots and shoes flew back and forth in the air like bullets, and at the same time, there seemed to be gunshots mixed with the shouts of the crowd. The tumultuous crowd approached the steps on which Mr. Fogg stood, and were already up the first few flights of stairs!Although both sides are now hostile, one side has been forced to retreat.But onlookers couldn't tell whether Mandubai had the upper hand or Camelfield had the upper hand. "I think we'd better go," said Fix, who was afraid that "his" Mr. Fogg might be attacked or that something should happen to him and he could not be responsible for it. "If these fighters are really about the British problem, and if they recognize us as British, then we will be confused by them." "As a British citizen . . . " said Mr. Fogg. But the gentleman had not finished speaking, when a terrible cry was heard from the high rise in front of the steps behind him.I only heard: "Hala! Hey! Hey! Support Mandubai!" It turned out that this was a group of voters who rose up to support their partners.They attacked Camelfield's supporters from the side.Mr. Fogg, Mrs. Aouda, and Fix were right in the middle of the hostile forces, and it was too late to leave.The tide-like crowd held iron-covered sticks and bludgeons in their hands, and no one could resist it. When Phileas Fogg and Fix were protecting Mrs. Aouda, Knocked over by the crowd.Mr. Fogg, still imperturbable, tried to defend himself with his natural weapons—the hands, which nature has endowed to every Englishman in the arms—but to no avail.At this moment came a big, pompous man, with a tuft of red beard on his chin, red face and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the leader of the group.He raised his formidable fist to hit Fogg.The gentleman would have been beaten to pieces, had Fix not so faithfully stepped forward to take the blow in his stead.In an instant a large lump had swelled under Fix's flattened silk top hat. "Beggar!" said Mr. Fogg, looking contemptuously at his enemy. "Brit!" replied the other. "We will always meet again!" "Anytime you want, what's your name?" "What is your name, Phileas Fogg?" "Colonel Stom Proctor." After these few words were finished, the crowd moved aside.Fix, who was knocked down, immediately got up from the ground, his clothes were all torn, but fortunately he was not seriously injured.His traveling overcoat had been torn into two pieces of different sizes, and his trousers now resembled those chaps with the pre-cut backs that some Indians like to wear. But Lady Aouda was safe and sound this time around.Only Fix took the punch instead of Fogg.No sooner had they left the crowd than Mr Fogg said to the detective: "thank you." "Nothing," replied Fix, "come on." "Where to go?" "Go to a clothing store." In fact, it's time to go to the clothing store too.Both Phileas Fogg and Fix were shattered, as if they had been beaten for the campaign of Cammelfield or Mandubai. An hour later, they had resumed their neat appearance.Then I went to the consulate to complete the visa procedures, and then returned to the International Hotel.Passepartout was already waiting at the door, and the lad had half a dozen pistols with daggers on his back.This gun uses a center firing pin to fire and can fire six rounds in bursts. Passepartout looked up and saw Mr. Fogg followed by Mr. Fix, and his face immediately showed displeasure.But when Mrs. Aouda briefly described what happened just now, the young man immediately smiled again.Obviously, Fix is ​​keeping his word, he has really ceased to be an enemy, and has become an ally. After dinner, Mr. Fogg asked someone to find a carriage, ready to load the luggage and go to the railway station.As they got into the carriage, Mr Fogg asked Fix: "Did you not see that Colonel Proctor again?" "No," said Fix. "I must go back to America to find him," said Phileas Fogg drily, "it is a disgrace for an English citizen to be so insulted by them." Fix smiled, but made no reply.But he could see that Mr. Fogg was the kind of Englishman who would fight for his honor abroad if he could not tolerate any provocation in England. At a quarter to six they were at the station, and the train was about to leave. Mr Fogg asked a railway clerk as he boarded the train: "My friend, is there any trouble in San Francisco today?" "It's a public meeting, sir," replied the clerk. "However, it seems to me that there is a great commotion in the street." "It's just a mass election meeting, nothing else." "It seems that a commander-in-chief of the armed forces must be elected?" Fokker asked in a daze. "No, sir, but to elect a justice of the peace." With these words, Phileas Fogg boarded the train.The train left the station at full speed.