'This is a nice thing!' Fred declared, ruefully, as he pointed to a big tear in his trousers. 'To-day is the first time I have worn this suit.'

Ping w.a.n.g condoled with him, but Charlie, who always maintained that his brother thought too much of dress, laughed at his mishap.

'If you had been wearing a serviceable suit like mine,' he said, 'your trousers would not have been torn.'

'May the day never come,' Fred answered, solemnly, 'when I have to take your advice on the matter of dress. And now I think it is about time that we returned to the _Twilight_.'

'Shall we have another race?' Ping w.a.n.g asked eagerly, somewhat disappointed at having been robbed of his victory.

'I've had quite enough racing, thank you,' Fred declared, placing his hand over his knee to conceal the rent in his trousers.

'I haven't,' Charlie joined in. 'Come along, Ping w.a.n.g.'

Charlie and Ping w.a.n.g whipped up their donkeys, but no sooner had they started than Fred's animal, in spite of its rider's efforts to restrain it, bolted after them, and, overtaking them, ran a dead heat with 'Lord Roberts.' 'Kruger' was last.

When, after a little further exploration of the town, they went back to the _Twilight_, they were thoroughly delighted to find that she had finished coaling, and that nearly all traces of that unpleasant job had been removed.

They went down to dinner at once, and when they came on deck again they were in the Suez Ca.n.a.l. Fred and Charlie found plenty to interest them in the Ca.n.a.l. They saw several thin brown pariah dogs wandering about the desert in search of food, and once a dead camel came floating by them. Towards evening the _Twilight_ had to anchor for a time, and the three pa.s.sengers, with the captain's permission, went ash.o.r.e and gathered flowers and sh.e.l.ls to send home.

In the Red Sea there was still more to see. All day long the seagulls--brown with white b.r.e.a.s.t.s--hovered around the _Twilight_. Many other birds came and rested on the ship for hours, and, as the weather was intensely hot, Charlie, Fred, and Ping w.a.n.g found it very entertaining to sit quietly in their long chairs and watch their pretty little feathered visitors.

CHAPTER XI.

Three days after leaving Suez they saw, for the first time, the Southern Cross, and, on the following morning, they steamed into what, at first sight, Fred and Charlie thought was land, but was simply a wide streak of floating sand which had been blown out to sea during a sand-storm.

At night they were now permitted to sleep on deck--a boon which all three appreciated highly. They took their blankets and pillows on to the p.o.o.p, and slept with greater comfort than they had experienced for many days, though one night they were caught in a heavy thunder-shower.

One morning, when they went on deck, they found it literally strewn with flying fish. The ship's rats had evidently had a good feed, for many of the fish were gnawed and bitten.

'Would you like some flying fish for breakfast, gentlemen?' the cook said to the three pa.s.sengers as they stood looking at the stranded fish.

'Are they good?' Charlie inquired, suspiciously.

'First cla.s.s,' the cook declared; so Charlie, Fred, and Ping w.a.n.g had flying fish for breakfast.

'I can't say that I consider them "first cla.s.s,"' Fred said when he had eaten two of them, 'but I am glad that I shall be able to say that I have eaten one.'

'Eaten two,' Charlie said, but Fred ignored the interruption.

'I make a practice of tasting any new dish I come across,' he continued.

'When we get to China,' Charlie said, 'Ping w.a.n.g will have the pleasure of offering you puppy-dog pie.'

Ping w.a.n.g smiled serenely.

'I don't think that you will find Chinese food so bad as you imagine,'

he said. 'Certainly it will be better than what we had to eat on the _Sparrow-hawk_.'

While they were looking at a heap of dead fish, the captain shouted to them to come over to the starboard side; and on doing so they beheld a shoal of small fish being chased by big ones. To escape their pursuers the small fish jumped out of the water, and were instantly seized by the gulls, a flock of which were hovering around. The gulls had a splendid feast, several hundred of small fish being eaten by them before the _Twilight_ steamed away from the shoal.

It was not long before the _Twilight_ arrived at Aden, where they all went ash.o.r.e for a short time.

After they left Aden the days were extremely monotonous, for there was nothing to be seen but the ocean.

'I shall be jolly glad when the voyage is at an end,' Charlie declared when they had pa.s.sed Ceylon without catching a glimpse of it.

'So shall I,' Fred answered, 'but it won't be much longer, and then the fun will begin.'

'I hope,' Ping w.a.n.g said, 'that you will not mind being dressed as Chinamen.'

'But, my dear fellow,' Fred replied, 'if we were dressed as Chinamen, we should not deceive any one. Our faces are not at all Chinese.'

'I can alter that by shaving your eyebrows.'

'Very likely, but Chinamen without pigtails would be as absurd as a wingless bird.'

'I will buy two pigtails,' Ping w.a.n.g declared, calmly.

'What! Surely Chinamen don't wear false pigtails?' Charlie exclaimed.

'Thousands of them do, but, of course they keep it as secret as do your English ladies who wear false hair.'

'But how do they fix it to their head? Stick it on to their bald pates with gum?'

'Oh, no! Chinamen are never quite bald--at least, I have never met any who are--and the pigtail is fixed to what hair they have. My reason for advising you not to have your hair cut in Port Said was that I wanted you to have long hair by the time we reached Hongkong. I think that it is already long enough for pigtails to be attached.'

Charlie was delighted at the prospect of having to don Chinese attire, but Fred was far from pleased. He had provided himself with an excellent khaki campaigning suit, and did not at all like the idea of its lying idle. However, after some further conversation, Ping w.a.n.g succeeded in convincing him that, for the success of their plans for recovering the idol, it was necessary that he and Charlie should pa.s.s themselves off as Chinese.

'We shall have to eat our food with chop-sticks I suppose?' Charlie remarked.

'Certainly,' Ping w.a.n.g replied.

'Then lend me yours, and I'll start practising at once. I don't want to be starved when I get to China.'

Ping w.a.n.g lent his chop-sticks willingly, and having obtained some boiled rice from the cook, Charlie practised getting it into his mouth.

It was an easier task than he had imagined, and when he had become proficient, he pa.s.sed the chop-sticks on to Fred, who at once set to work to become as accomplished as his brother. Long before they arrived at Hongkong, Fred and Charlie found it as easy to eat with chop-sticks as with a knife and fork.

(_Continued on page 291._)

ONE WAS MISSING.