At Han-kow I left the steamer, to take command of a new schooner belonging (nominally) to the same owners. As her interior accommodations were not quite finished, I took a small house until such time as she should be completed. While residing ashore, I suffered from an attack of fever--a complaint very prevalent amongst Europeans in China--that at one time seemed almost certain to destroy my life.
One night when convalescent, but still very weak, I was aroused by a strong smell of fire; in a moment almost, thick volumes of smoke rushed into the room, and I heard the loud crackling of burning wood close at hand. Getting from my bed, and hurrying some clothing on as quickly as possible, I got to the door of my house, and found the next one in a complete blaze, and my own just igniting. My servants no sooner opened the back door and attempted to save my property, than a crowd of _braves_ rushed in and commenced to plunder all they could lay hands on. I was too weak to do much, but, taking a sword, endeavoured to drive them off; I followed one a few paces from the door, and thrust at his body, but was too weak to hurt him much, and the point of my weapon glanced on his ribs; the fellow did not even drop his booty, but successfully made off with all the bedding. Fortunately at this juncture assistance from some neighbouring European residents arrived, or I should have lost everything. With their help and that of the coolies, the greater part of my things were saved, but much had been carried off by the "Imps." The origin of the fire was attributable to the incendiary acts of the Imperialist soldiers, who had set fire to the adjoining house, as also to an European dwelling, out of malice, and hatred of the "foreign devils."
For the few days before taking up my quarters on board the schooner, a friend kindly accommodated me. I then engaged a Greek seaman as mate, shipped a Chinese crew, a Malay boatswain, and prepared to leave. Our voyage progressed very favourably until we reached a place a little below the treaty port Kew-kiang, where, although hitherto dropping down with the tide at the rate of three or four miles an hour, my course was abruptly arrested for several days. Between Kew-kiang and the mouth of the Poyang Lake is situated a large island, and instead of taking the usual channel, my stupid Chinese pilot preferred the other side of the island. In consequence of this, when about half-way past, stem on we went, and stuck hard and fast aground. After a tiresome day's work we managed to get afloat again in about six inches more water than the schooner was drawing, and then made fast for the night. In the morning, after sounding in every direction, and finding the only channel very shallow, and as intricate as the maze at Rosherville Gardens, I obtained a fisherman from the shore, who, for the consideration of a few strings of cash, piloted us out; our own pilot being perfectly ignorant of his duties. I have since found it a common thing for Chinamen who have spent all their lives sailing about the Yang-tze river, to be utterly unacquainted with its pilotage.