NOTES FROM MY DIARY. 251 



It has been well said that one never knows one's luck when out shooting. Another 

 treat was in store for us. While we were congratulating ourselves at having got so easily 

 out of a row which at one time looked ugly enough, and putting distance between ourselves 

 and the scene, five fresh countrymen came up to us begging for cartridges and birds. 

 Remembering, happily, that discretion is often the better part of valour, we humoured them, 

 and gave them cartridges, a bird or two, and a drink to stop their shouting. Moral. A man 

 cannot shout when he is drinking, and does not when he is expecting a drink. They then left us 

 and gave our two coolies a hammering, but what for never came to our knowledge. These 

 interruptions naturally spoiled our sport, but Percival, escaping them, brought a goodly tale 

 of 23 pheasants and a mallard back with him. In the evening we went ashore with the boy 

 to lay the morning's incidents before the Tipao, but found that he had gone to Soochow. His 

 subordinate, however, promised to enquire into matters and to get back the deer — for a 

 consideration. We gave him the consideration, but he forgot to get back the deer. But our 

 troubles were not over yet. We had three or four more good days together before Percival 

 returned to Shanghai, while we elected to remain a little longer. On our journey back, it 

 was 2.30 A.M. and we were at Chowszeyen on the Grand Canal, we were awakened by a 

 loud noise, bumping and falling glass. It did not take long to institute enquiries as to the 

 cause. It appeared that because the lowdah had refused to pay a small squeeze to a couple 

 of natives (blackmail in fact) not far from Changchow, they had followed our boat for 

 some distance, then supplied themselves with big stones which they adroitly dropped on the 

 boat from the top of the bridge under which we were passing, smashing in the skylight and 

 roof. As soon as we could, we rounded-to the boat and got on the bridge just in time to 

 see the termagants bolting across country. To follow them was impossible as we only had 

 bamboo slippers on. As we were pondering over the situation, my boy who had followed 

 us discovered one of the myrmidons concealing himself in the shadow of the parapet of the 

 bridge. It did not take long to get him on board our boat where the boy gave him a good 

 rope's ending. Then the brilliant idea occurred to my companion to take our prisoner 

 down to Shanghai. So down the fore-hatch he was thrust and the hatch weighted with 

 anchor and chains, and a coolie told off to keep guard. All the 'crockery' he was allowed 

 was an old jam tin in which were served all his meat and drink. On our return the matter 

 was reported to Mr. Consul Medhurst who had the man up before him and then sent to the 

 city where, having no money or friends, he must have fared badly. Mr. Medhurst the next 

 week visited the scene of the trouble in my boat, but was unable to find out anything about 

 the recreants, who appear not to have belonged to the place — Kongpoo men, in fact In 

 these days of heavy traffic and frequent steam launches such an incident could scarcely 

 occur, but it will serve to show that there are risks which some who go up-country little wot of. 



« « • * 



Tasijow on the Pintahu Creek has always had a bad reputation, and on the occasion 

 to which I am about to refer I think thoroughly deserved it. Mr. W. T. Phipps and I 

 were shooting there during the Christmas of 1894. We had separated for the day, and as 

 I was working back to the boats about 4 P.M., I saw Phipps' houseboat flag being hoisted 

 and lowered very rapidly. I naturally hurried to see what was the matter, when I found 

 my companion in the midst of an angry crowd who were throwing clods of earth at him. 



