The Black-Bearded Barbarian : The Life of George Leslie Mackay of Formosa — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Black-Bearded Barbarian : The Life of George Leslie Mackay of Formosa
John Stuart Mill · en
"I respect your law," said Mackay after he examined it, "and my
companion and I will vacate. But I have paid rent for this place,
therefore I am entitled to remain for the night. I will not go out until
morning."
His firm words and fearless manner had their effect both on the soldiers
and the noisy mob waiting for him outside, and the men, muttering
angrily, turned away. That night Mackay and A Hoa lay on a dirty grass
mat on the mud floor. The place was damp and filthy, but even had it
been comfortable they would have had little sleep. For, far into the
night, angry soldiers paraded the street. Often their voices rose to a
clamor and they would make a rush for the frail door of the little hut.
Many times the two young fellows arose, believing their last hour had
come. But the long night passed and they found that they were still left
untouched.
They rose early and started out. Already a great mob filled the space
in front of the house. Even the low roofs of the surrounding houses were
covered with people all out early to see the barbarian and his despised
companion driven from Bang-kah, and perhaps have the added pleasure of
witnessing their death.
The two walked bravely down the street. Curses were showered upon them
from all sides; broken tiles, stones, and filth were thrown at them, but
they moved on steadily. The mob hampered them so that they were hours
walking the short distance to the river. Here they entered a boat and
went down a few miles to a point where a chapel stood, and where some of
Mackay's students awaited them.
But the man who "did not know when he was beaten" had not turned his
back on the enemy. He gathered the group of students around him in the
little room attached to the chapel. Here they all knelt and the young
missionary laid their trouble before the great Captain who had said,
"All power is given unto me." "Give us an entrance to Bang-kah," was the
burden of the missionary 's prayer. They arose from their knees, and he
turned to A Hoa with that quick challenging movement his students had
learned to know so well.
"Come," he said, "we are going back to Bang-kah."
And A Hoa, whose habit it was to walk into all danger with a smile,
answered with all his heart:
"It is well, Kai Bok-su; we go back to Bang-kah."
And straight back to this Gibraltar the little army of two marched.
It was quite dark by the time they entered. A Formosan city is not the
blaze of electricity to which Westerners are accustomed, and only
here and there in the narrow streets shone a dim light. The travelers
stumbled along, scarcely knowing whither they were going. As they turned
a dark corner and plunged into another black street they met an old man
hobbling with the aid of a staff over the uneven stones of the pavement.
Mackay spoke to him politely and asked if he could tell him of any one
who would rent a house. "We want to do mission work," he added, feeling
that he must not get anything under false pretenses.