The Boy Fortune Hunters in China by L. Frank Baum

When I gained the deck of the _Seagull_ an affecting sight met my eyes. It was crowded thick with despairing and agitated men and women, for all had lost their possessions and many their friends and relatives within the preceding half hour. Bry had brewed huge pots of coffee, for the morning air was still chilly and the rescued ones had nearly all been pulled from the water; so, our hearts full of pity for the poor wretches, we tried to comfort and cheer them as well as lay within our power.

The collision happened at twenty minutes after five in the morning; by six o'clock all the rescued were on the deck of the _Seagull_. We found we picked up two hundred and eighteen out of the three hundred and twenty-seven who had constituted the passengers and crew of the ill-fated _Karamata Maru_. One hundred and nine, including the Japanese officers, who deliberately went down with their ship, had perished.

It was nine o'clock before the steamship _Nagasaki Maru_ hove in sight, and eleven when she came alongside us. I make this positive statement despite the inaccurate newspaper reports to the effect that the _Nagasaki Maru_ was at the scene of the collision and assisted the _Seagull_ to rescue the survivors.

Of course the _Nagasaki Maru_, belonging to the same line as the lost _Karamata Maru_, promptly transferred all the rescued ones to her own decks; and that was just as well, because our ship was too small to carry them all in comfort, and we were really under no obligations to do more than we had already done. The _Karamata Maru_ had been bound for Japan, so the _Nagasaki Maru_, being on her way to San Francisco, undertook to leave the passengers and crew of her sister ship at Honolulu until they could be picked up by some other west-bound ship.

As they steamed away from us the poor survivors who swarmed upon her decks saluted us with a hearty cheer of gratitude for our services, and this appreciation fully repaid us.

As I stood leaning over the rail and watching the fast receding _Nagasaki Maru_, Joe touched my elbow.

"Lunch is ready, Sam."

Then I remembered that I had eaten nothing except a cup of Bryonia's coffee since early morning, and I quickly went below. Already we had steamed away upon our course and the midday sun was shining brightly overhead.

I found all our ship's officers assembled in the saloon except the second mate, old Eli Trent, who had the deck watch, and during the meal we naturally discoursed at length upon the exciting events of the morning.

I had nearly finished luncheon when our steward, Nux, whispered over my shoulder:

"Chinaman wants to see you, Marse Sam."

"What Chinaman, Nux? " I asked in surprise.

"Hurt man, Marse Sam. He in front stateroom."

I looked inquiringly at my father.

"We've took a passenger, Sam," said the Captain, calmly buttering his toast. "The 'Chink' you took off'n the wreck is a high mandarin, a prince, or suthin', and wanted to get home to China as soon as possible, fer he's hurt bad."

"We don't usually accept passengers," I remarked thoughtfully, "but if this poor fellow is injured and homesick, it's our duty to do what we can for him."

"And that isn't much," added a gruff voice behind me, and the ship's doctor from the _Karamata Maru_ dropped into a seat at the table and began to eat. We watched him a moment in silence. Then I asked:

"Is your patient very bad, Doctor -- -- "

"Gaylord; my name's Gaylord. I'm an Englishman, although I sailed on that blasted Jap ship. And my patient, Prince Kai, is dying. He'll never see China again."

"Oh! " I exclaimed, really distressed, and the others echoed my sympathy.