Chapter 6 Chapter Six
Traveling begins, and it is natural to admit that it is not difficult to travel.
As Professor Tuttley has often said repeatedly, in an indisputable way of reasoning:
"A trip always has a beginning! But when and how it ends is what counts!"
Godfrey's cabin was in the rearmost part of the Dream's poop, facing the officers' lounge which served as the dining room.There our young traveler was made as comfortable as possible.He hung Fina's picture in the best part of the bedroom wainscot where it got the most light.A canvas sling for sleeping, a washbasin for washing, cabinets for clothes and underwear, a desk to work on, an easy chair to sit in, what more could a 22-year-old traveler need ?Wasn't he at that age that embraced that practical philosophy of good health and good spirits?what!Young people, if possible, go on a trip, if not... let's go on a trip!
Tatley, he couldn't be in a better mood.His cabin was next to his pupil's cabin, which he thought was too narrow, the canvas spread too stiff, and the 6 yards he occupied in the cargo wing were far from enough to allow him to repeat the Auvergne folk dance accompanied by blows The dance steps of the action.Couldn't the traveler's him incorporate that professor of dance and instrumentation?cannot!It was natural, and when Tartley was soundly asleep for the last time, his feet were still stretched out, heel to heel, as they had been when he first fell asleep.
All had to dine together, and the place was--Godfrey and Tutley sat opposite each other, the captain and mate at one end of the swaying table, the dreadful name of which had made One understands that the professor's seat will often be vacant.
When we set off, in the beautiful season of June, there was a slight northeasterly wind.Captain Decourt was able to order the sails to be pulled up to increase the speed, and the "Dream" was not too swaying too much due to the wind and the wind.What's more, since the waves hit it from behind, the pitching back and forth kept the boat from feeling excessive roll at all.This orientation of the sail relative to the direction of the wind does not leave the traveler with a tensed nose, sunken eyes, pale brow, and discolored cheeks on the traveler's face, so it is bearable.The boat cuts straight into the beautiful sea to the southwest, and the white waves roll up slightly: America's beaches will soon disappear on the ground line.
During the two days there were no accidents during the voyage worth mentioning. The "Dream" was smooth sailing.So the trip went smoothly at first--though Captain Decourt showed at times an uneasiness he could not conceal.Each day, as the sun passed on the meridian, he noted the exact position of the ship.But one could observe him at once taking the mate into his cabin, where the two conversed secretly, as if they had to discuss some serious contingency.Doubtless Godfrey was ignorant of this detail, and knew nothing of seamanship, but the bosun and several sailors could not help being surprised.
To the astonishment of these honest men above all, two or three times, during the night, when there was absolutely no need for it, the Phantasm's course was visibly changed, and then again by day. Back to normal.Doing so would be explainable for a sailing ship subject to changing air currents, but not for a steamer capable of sailing in a great circle and furling sails when the wind is unfavorable up.
During the daytime of June 12, an extremely unexpected incident occurred on board the ship.
Just as Captain Decourt, the mate, and Godfrey were about to take their seats for lunch, there was an unusual noise on the deck.Almost immediately, the bosun pushed open the door and appeared at the door of the officers' lounge.
"Captain," he said.
"What's the matter?" asked Captain Decourt anxiously, like a seaman always on the alert.
"There's ... a Chinese!" said the bosun.
"a Chinese?"
"Yes, a real Chinese, whom we just stumbled across in the innermost part of the hold."
"In the deepest part of the hold!" cried Captain Decourt. "By the devil of Sacramento Street, throw him to the bottom of the sea!"
"Yes!" replied the bosun.
And this good man, with all the contempt all Californians might feel for a son of heaven, found the order so natural that he did not hesitate to carry it out.
At this time, Captain Decourt had stood up, followed by Godfrey and the first mate, left the lounge of the poop and walked towards this guy at the bow of the "Dream".
There, indeed, was a Chinese man, who was being held fast, struggling with two or three sailors who were mercilessly shoving him with their hands.He was a man of thirty-five to forty years of age, intelligent, well-built, beardless, but a little pale and emaciated from sixty hours in the poorly ventilated hold.
Captain Decourt immediately signaled his men to let go of the unfortunate trespasser.
"Who are you?" he asked him.
"A son of the sun."
"What's your name?"
"Not yet." The Chinese replied, the name is in the language of the Celestial Dynasty.Meaning: does not exist.
"What are you doing here, on the boat?"
"I'm sailing!..." No one replied calmly, "But try not to cause the least damage to you."
"Really! Minimal damage! . . . You took refuge in the hold while sailing?"
"You are right, Captain."
"In order to bring you from the United States to China for free, to the other side of the Pacific Ocean?"
"If you will."
"If I don't want to, Huangpi, if I ask you to swim back to China willingly?"
"I will try," replied the Chinese with a smile, "but I might die on the way!"
"Well," cried Captain Decourt, "I'll show you how to save money!"
Captain Decourt, far beyond the wrath the incident might have aroused, was about to carry out his threat when Godfrey intervened.
"Captain," he said, "one more Chinese on board the Dream is one less Chinese in California, and there are so many Chinese there!"
"There are too many Chinese there!" replied Captain Decourt.
"Too much, indeed," continued Godfrey, "then, since the unfortunate man has decided to leave San Francisco, it deserves some kind of pity! . There is a problem!"
Godfrey speaks in the language of a true Californian when he says there are too many Chinese in California.Indeed, the emigration of the subjects of the Celestial Empire—the 300 million in China to the 30 million Americans in the United States—became a danger to the provinces of the Far West.So the state legislatures of California, Baja California, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, and Congress itself are concerned about the incursion of this new epidemic, which the Yankees have given the evocative name "Yellow Peril."
At that time, there were 50,000 Chinese citizens in California alone.These men are extremely skillful and persistent in panning for gold, live on a pinch of rice, a sip of tea, and a mouthful of opium, and have a tendency to hurt angry workers in order to reduce the cost of labor.Therefore, they must be made subject to some special laws that are contrary to the U.S. Constitution—laws that control their immigration and deny them the right to acquire citizenship, lest they eventually become a majority in Congress.Moreover, like Indians and Negroes, they were generally treated roughly, and in defense of the "cholera sufferers" imposed upon them, they were often confined in a kind of ghetto, where They carefully maintained the customs and habits of the Celestial Dynasty:
In the capital of California, in that section near Sacramento Street, adorned with their signs and their lanterns, another race of influences has brought them together.There one may meet them by the thousands, trotting about in their wide-sleeved coats, their conical hats, and their shoes turned up.There, most of them became grocers, gardeners, or laundry workers—if not cooks, or members of the troupes that performed Chinese operas at the French theater in San Francisco.
And yet—without any reason to hide it for him—has not yet joined one of these disparate companies, where he played the first buffoon,—in case this expression of European drama could be applied to any Chinese artist.Indeed, they were so serious, even when they were joking, that the Californian novelist Hart-Brett may have said that he had never seen a Chinese actor laugh, and he even admitted that he could not understand what he had seen Whether one of those plays is a tragedy or a pure farce.
In short, Wu is not a comedian.With the show period over and great accomplishments, it may feel like the time has come and he wants to go back to his hometown instead.So he took a chance and sneaked into the hold of the "Dream".
Did he wish, with his procured necessities, to pass these weeks in anonymity; and disembark somewhere on the coast of China, as he had embarked unseen?
After all, it is possible.All in all, it certainly wasn't a heinous crime.
So Godfrey was right to intervene on behalf of the trespasser, and Captain Decourt, who was behaving more ferociously than usual, didn't have much trouble giving up throwing the boat into the waters of the Pacific Ocean to play. .
Because of this, Shang Wu no longer hid at the bottom of the boat, but he shouldn't be too much of a hindrance to others on the boat.He was calm, methodical, and kept little company, carefully avoiding the sailors who were always jostling him; he ate what he had stored.In short, his thinness made it possible to add his weight without significantly increasing the sailing costs of the "Dream".If none had been free shipping, surely his boat trip would not have cost a penny in William W. Coedrup's cash drawer.
His presence on board, however, aroused certain considerations in Captain Decourt, and his first mate was doubtless the only one who understood the special significance of his considerations.
"He's going to get in our way, the damned Chinese, he must! . . . Anyhow, bad luck for him!"
"Who told him to secretly board the 'Dream'!" The first mate replied.
"Especially to Shanghai!" retorted Captain Decourt. "To the devil, John and John's sons!"
Notes:
Notes: