It would be
the greatest luck imaginable for him, if now--by chance, of course,--he
were to make his journey to heaven."
"True, most true. I wish that I had died when I was his age," groaned
the Captain.
"You leave all with me. The boy is on board. That is enough--"
CHAPTER IV.
With the Priest of the God of the Golden Fish.
On the south side of the island of Hongkong are a number of small
villages occupied by fishermen. Any one of these hidden away under the
shade of the great bamboos may be taken as a type of all the others.
The little houses have roofs made of reeds and bundles of twigs, but
these do not serve so well for protection from wind and weather as the
thick foliage of the overhanging trees. On the beach fishing nets are
spread to dry; and in the calm waters of the little bay a number of
poor old junks ride lazily at anchor. One of these is drawn up on the
shore and the men are examining the haul of fish just brought in.
Women and children with baskets and buckets are hurrying down to the
beach to do their part in the work of sorting.
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