Mrs. Spring Fragrance
green forest called the Forest of the Freed, and the fish and turtles he
would release in a moon-loved pool called the Pool of Happy Life. He
also bought up and set free all animals that were caged for show, and
even remembered the reptiles.
Some centuries after this good man had passed away, one of his
descendants was accused of having offended against the laws of the land,
and he and all of his kin were condemned to be punished therefor.
Amongst his kin were two little seventh cousins named Chan Ming and Chan
Mai, who had lived very happily all their lives with a kind uncle as
guardian and a good old nurse. The punishment meted out to this little
boy and girl was banishment to a wild and lonely forest, which forest
could only be reached by travelling up a dark and mysterious river in a
small boat. The journey was long and perilous, but on the evening of the
third day a black shadow loomed before Ming and Mai. This black shadow
was the forest, the trees of which grew so thickly together and so close
to the river’s edge that their roots interlaced under the water.
The rough sailors who had taken the children from their home, beached
the boat, and without setting foot to land themselves, lifted the
children out, then quickly pushed away. Their faces were deathly pale,
for they were mortally afraid of the forest, which was said to be
inhabited by innumerable wild animals, winged and crawling things.
Ming’s lip trembled. He realized that he and his little sister were now
entirely alone, on the edge of a fearsome forest on the shore of a
mysterious river. It seemed to the little fellow, as he thought of his
dear Canton, so full of bright and busy life, that he and Mai had come,
not to another province, but to another world.
One great, big tear splashed down his cheek. Mai, turning to weep on his
sleeve, saw it, checked her own tears, and slipping a little hand into
his, murmured in his ear:
“Look up to the heavens, O brother. Behold, the Silver Stream floweth
above us here as bright as it flowed above our own fair home.” (The
Chinese call the Milky Way the Silver Stream.)
While thus they stood, hand in hand, a moving thing resembling a knobby
log of wood was seen in the river. Strange to say, the children felt no
fear and watched it float towards them with interest. Then a watery
voice was heard. “Most honorable youth and maid,” it said, “go back to
the woods and rest.”
It was a crocodile. Swimming beside it were a silver and a gold fish,
who leaped in the water and echoed the crocodile’s words; and following
in the wake of the trio, was a big green turtle mumbling: “To the woods,
most excellent, most gracious, and most honorable.”
Obediently the children turned and began to find their way among the
trees. The woods were not at all rough and thorny as they had supposed
they would be. They were warm and fragrant with aromatic herbs and
shrubs. Moreover, the ground was covered with moss and grass, and the
bushes and young trees bent themselves to allow them to pass through.
But they did not wander far. They were too tired and sleepy. Choosing a
comfortable place in which to rest, they lay down side by side and fell
asleep.
When they awoke the sun was well up. Mai was the first to open her eyes,
and seeing it shining through the trees, exclaimed: “How beautiful is
the ceiling of my room!” She thought she was at home and had forgotten
the river journey. But the next moment Ming raised his head and said:
“The beauty you see is the sun filtering through the trees and the
forest where—”
He paused, for he did not wish to alarm his little sister, and he had
nearly said: “Where wild birds and beasts abound.”
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mai in distress. She also thought of the wild
birds and beasts, but like Ming, she also refrained from mentioning
them.
“I am impatiently hungry,” cried Ming. He eyed enviously a bright little
bird hopping near. The bird had found a good, fat grasshopper for its
breakfast, but when it heard Ming speak, it left the grasshopper and
flew quickly away.
A moment later there was a great trampling and rustling amongst the
grasses and bushes. The hearts of the children stood still. They clasped
hands. Under every bush and tree, on the branches above them, in a pool
near by, and close beside them, almost touching their knees, appeared a
great company of living things from the animal, fish, fowl, and insect
kingdoms.
It was true then—what the sailors had told them—only worse; for whereas
they had expected to meet the denizens of the forest, either singly or
in couples, here they were all massed together.
A tiger opened its mouth. Ming put his sister behind him and said:
“Please, honorable animals, birds, and other kinds of living things,
would some of you kindly retire for a few minutes. We expected to meet
you, but not so many at once, and are naturally overwhelmed with the
honor.”
“Oh, yes, please your excellencies,” quavered Mai, “or else be so kind
as to give us space in which to retire ourselves, so that we may walk
into the river and trouble you no more. Will we not, honorable brother?”
“Nay, sister,” answered Ming. “These honorable beings have to be subdued
and made to acknowledge that man is master of this forest. I am here to
conquer them in fight, and am willing to take them singly, in couples,
or even three at a time; but as I said before, the honor of all at once
is somewhat overwhelming.”
“Oh! ah!” exclaimed Mai, gazing awestruck at her brother. His words made
him more terrible to her than any of the beasts of the field. Just then
the tiger, who had politely waited for Ming and Mai to say their say,
made a strange purring sound, loud, yet strangely soft; fierce, yet
wonderfully kind. It had a surprising effect upon the children, seeming
to soothe them and drive away all fear. One of little Mai’s hands
dropped upon the head of a leopard crouching near, whilst Ming gazed
straight into the tiger’s eyes and smiled as at an old friend. The tiger
smiled in return, and advancing to Ming, laid himself down at his feet,
the tip of his nose resting on the boy’s little red shoes. Then he
rolled his body around three times. Thus in turn did every other animal,
bird, fish, and insect present. It took quite a time and Mai was glad
that she stood behind her brother and received the obeisances by proxy.
This surprising ceremony over, the tiger sat back upon his haunches and,
addressing Ming, said:
“Most valorous and honorable descendant of Chan Ah Sin the First: Your
coming and the coming of your exquisite sister will cause the flowers to
bloom fairer and the sun to shine brighter for us. There is, therefore,
no necessity for a trial of your strength or skill with any here.
Believe me, Your Highness, we were conquered many years ago—and not in
fight.”
“Why! How?” cried Ming.
“Why! How?” echoed Mai.
And the tiger said:
“Many years ago in the beautiful land of China, there lived a rich and
benevolent man named Chan Ah Sin. So kind of heart was he that he could
not pass through a market street without buying up all the live fish,
turtles, birds, and animals that he saw, for the purpose of giving them
liberty and life. These animals and birds he would set free in a cool
green forest called the Forest of the Freed, and the fish and turtles he
would release in a moon-loved pool called the Pool of Happy Life. He
also bought up and set free all animals that were caged for show, and
even remembered the reptiles.”
The tiger paused.
“And you,” observed Ming, “you, sir tiger, and your forest companions,
are the descendants of the animals, fish, and turtles thus saved by Chan
Ah Sin the First.”
“We are, Your Excellency,” replied the tiger, again prostrating himself.
“The beneficent influence of Chan Ah Sin the First, extending throughout
the centuries, has preserved the lives of his young descendants, Chan
Ming and Chan Mai.”
II
THE TIGER’S FAREWELL
Many a moon rose and waned over the Forest of the Freed and the
Moon-loved Pool of Happy Life, and Ming and Mai lived happily and
contentedly amongst their strange companions. To be sure, there were
times when their hearts would ache and their tears would flow for their
kind uncle and good old nurse, also for their little playfellows in
far-away Canton; but those times were few and far between. Full well the
children knew how much brighter and better was their fate than it might
have been.
One day, when they were by the river, amusing themselves with the
crocodiles and turtles, the water became suddenly disturbed, and lashed
and dashed the shore in a very strange manner for a river naturally calm
and silent.
“Why, what can be the matter?” cried Ming.
“An honorable boat is coming,” shouted a goldfish.
Ming and Mai clasped hands and trembled.
“It is the sailors,” said they to one another; then stood and watched
with terrified eyes a large boat sail majestically up the broad stream.
Meanwhile down from the forest had rushed the tiger with his tigress and
cubs, the leopard with his leopardess and cubs, and all the other
animals with their young, and all the birds, and all the insects, and
all the living things that lived in the Forest of the Freed and the
Moon-loved Pool. They surrounded Ming and Mai, crouched at their feet,
swarmed in the trees above their heads, and crowded one another on the
beach and in the water.
The boat stopped in the middle of the stream, in front of the strip of
forest thus lined with living things. There were two silk-robed men on
it and a number of sailors, also an old woman carrying a gigantic
parasol and a fan whose breeze fluttered the leaves in the Forest of the
Freed.
When the boat stopped, the old woman cried: “Behold, I see my precious
nurslings surrounded by wild beasts. A-ya, A-ya, A-ya.” Her cries rent
the air and Ming and Mai, seeing that the old woman was Woo Ma, their
old nurse, clapped their little hands in joy.
“Come hither,” they cried. “Our dear friends will welcome you. They are
not wild beasts. They are elegant and accomplished superior beings.”
Then one of the men in silken robes commanded the sailors to steer for
the shore, and the other silk-robed man came and leaned over the side of
the boat and said to the tiger and leopard:
“As I perceive, honorable beings, that you are indeed the friends of my
dear nephew and niece, Chan Ming and Chan Mai, I humbly ask your
permission to allow me to disembark on the shore of this river on the
edge of your forest.”
The tiger prostrated himself, so also did his brother animals, and all
shouted:
“Welcome, O most illustrious, most benevolent, and most excellent Chan
Ah Sin the Ninth.”
So Mai crept into the arms of her nurse and Ming hung on to his uncle’s
robe, and the other silk-robed man explained how and why they had come
to the Forest of the Freed and the Moon-loved Pool.
A fairy fish, a fairy duck, a fairy butterfly, and a fairy bird, who had
seen the children on the river when the cruel sailors were taking them
from their home, had carried the news to the peasants of the rice
fields, the tea plantations, the palm and bamboo groves. Whereupon great
indignation had prevailed, and the people of the province, who loved
well the Chan family, arose in their might and demanded that an
investigation be made into the charges against that Chan who was reputed
to have broken the law, and whose relatives as well as himself had been
condemned to suffer therefor. So it came to pass that the charges, which
had been made by some malicious enemy of high official rank, were
entirely disproved, and the edict of banishment against the Chan family
recalled.
The first thought of the uncle of Ming and Mai, upon being liberated