FROM TONKIN TO INDIA 



tobacco ran short did Nam begin to be unhappy : then, indeed, 

 the situation became serious to him. Nothing was more char- 

 acteristic of our chef than his engagement. One day at Saigon, 

 we were seeking a cook before leaving for Annam. It was ten 

 o'clock ; we started at noon. Someone brought Nam to us. 

 "Are you willing to come?" — "Yes; I will be ready at four." 

 "That won't do; we are off in two hours." — "All the same; 

 I come back." And so, hired at the outset for only a few weeks, 

 the Saigonnese was attached for many a long month to our retinue. 

 A lofty principle enlightened the breast of this primitive Asiatic, 

 and explained his conduct. Nam was a widower, with three 

 children — three little gnaos whom he adored, and for whose sake 

 he would walk far and work hard to bring back money. 



Besides our Annamites (the boys rarely gave their names, 

 and were known by their numbers, "Five," "Six," "Three," etc.), 

 we had with us a Chinese, big and bony, with an oily yellow 

 face, evil, treacherous, and hateful. This was our interpreter, 

 Francois. He spoke French well, and was furnished with good 

 credentials from officers of the ships on which he had been a cook, 

 as well as from the mines of Hong-Hay, where he had been 

 employed. I found him at Langson, and engaged him at once ; 

 for it is difficult to meet with an interpreter in Tonkin who can 

 speak the Chinese of Yunnan, which is the tongue of Chang-Hay, 

 the pure dialect of the mandarins. In the districts we were about 

 to pass, Cantonnese would be of no use. Although I had written 

 two months beforehand to Tonkin to secure an interpreter, only 

 one could be shown to me, and he smoked opium so heavily, and 

 demanded such exorbitant pay, and a chair to travel in, that we 

 deemed ourselves lucky to secure Francois, despite his looks. 



We had a great amount of baggage, and were fortunate in 



