The cook-house was placed differently from the galleys of European vessels, being aft of the main-mast. The lower part was built of brick, with two square holes in front for the fires. Troughs of water were placed in front of these holes, so that any ignited fuel that might drop out would be at once extinguished. Wood was the fuel used. For cooking they used iron pans surrounded by red tiles. One was covered by a kind of half cask; this was used for boiling the rice, the cover being to preserve the steam after the water was boiled away, which causes the rice to be beautifully done and not soddened, as is often the case in our cooking. It also prevents it from being thrown out when the vessel rolls. The quantity of rice for each man was about three pounds daily. All washing of dishes, etc., was performed on a stage outside the galley so that it might be kept perfectly clean. The proper allowance for each mess was delivered in front. Close to the cook-house was a water-tank of wood, painted in imitation of bricks, and capable of holding three thousand gallons.
Such was the _King-Shing_ junk, and such are most of the craft of the Celestials. They would appear to be gradually coming round to Western ideas in the matter of ships, and in fact have done so entirely for war purposes, but the fashions of their ancestors are still good enough for most of them, and the junk is to be seen everywhere. Not a mere thing of yesterday is the junk. Vessels essentially similar to the one I have described were navigating the Chinese seas and rivers when the fleets of Rome and Carthage were contesting the supremacy of the Mediterranean, and long before. Rome and Carthage, and many another mighty maritime power, have risen and passed away utterly, like bubbles, or dreams, but the Chinaman and his everlasting junk are still here.
The vessel belonged to some mandarins at Shanghai, who used it for trading to Cochin-China. It had recently, however, been despatched with a cargo to Cheefoo, had been blown away north by a gale, and forced to run into the harbour at Port Arthur to escape the Japanese. There it had lain until the place fell. The crew numbered fifty-four, all told.
After floating off the sand-bank, and getting an offing, we were within the Gulf of Pechili, and determined to make for one or other of its ports, but on the first day we encountered a very heavy nor'-wester, which blew us far out of the Gulf. When, after lasting a day and a night, the gale abated, we were well down the Yellow Sea, and the skipper, or Ty Kong, whose name was Sam-Sing, determined to hold on for the port where the junk's owners dwelt. I had no objection to make to this, nor had the mandarin, who possessed friends and relatives in the south. The soldiers on board, however, were very discontented and mutinous, and as they considerably outnumbered the crew I began to fear trouble. They were all from northern provinces and had no desire to go south. Their language was scarcely intelligible even to their nominal countrymen. The immense diversity of dialects in China is, in fact, a great hindrance to progress by preventing the unification of the people. After some excited discussion they were prevailed upon to acquiesce by the solemn promise of the mandarin to make arrangements with the authorities for their return to their own parts, or failing that to send them back at his own expense; besides, the representation that to turn north again would most likely end in capture by the Japanese vessels, through whose present cruising-ground the gale had luckily blown us, had great weight.