Chinese were washing fish. Shells were exposed for sale,
since at any hour visitors from the American settlement might come
to traverse the Chinese village, and visitors often bought shells.
Even now, as Jo passed through the street, an old Chinaman beckoned
to the lad, and with much mystery unrolled a piece of brown paper
and showed a pearl that had come into his possession and that he
wished to sell.
Young Chinese girls, with red or yellow-capped babies strapped on
their backs, packed or spread the fish. Some little Chinese boys
were arranging dried squids in boats drawn up on the shore. On one
boat was a kind of wooden crane, holding a hanging pan. There were
some burnt sticks in the pan, and the whole contrivance was
evidently an arrangement whereby a fire could be made in the boat
when it was out at sea.
Jo stepped into one deserted hut, and found it to be a kitchen. An
oil can was over some ashes, and there were some queer, big kettles
near. In another place were Chinese children eating their breakfast.
One child had a Chinese cup, out of which she ate with chop-sticks.
Jo sat down on the edge of the village, and watched three women who
were setting off in a boat, intending to row out into the surf to
get kelp. Small fish lay drying all over the rocks by the sea-beach
near Jo, and a Chinaman was lifting up the fish, and letting them
drop again by the handful, while the wind blew away the straw or
grass that had become mixed with the fish while drying.
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