Free China Flyer by Porter Hill Page B

red satin cushion, Cheng-So Gilbert explained, ‘The city of Canton is closed to all foreign visitors. You cannot go beyond the main gates.’
    ‘I thought Canton was China’s one port open to all foreigners,’ protested Groot.
    ‘Foreigners are welcome in Whampoa,’ answered Cheng-So Gilbert, his moon-face set in its habitual half-smile. ‘Whampoa is the port of Canton. But foreigners cannot go inside the walled city.’
    ‘Why?’ asked Babcock. ‘Are the buildings inlaid with diamonds and rubies? Are the streets paved with gold bricks? Are they scared we’re going to come along and take a few back home with us?’
    Cheng-So Gilbert explained patiently. ‘Canton is very plain by Oriental standards, mister. Some men even call it ugly. I cannot give you the true reason why outsiders are not welcome there, but I can repeat a reason I once heard:
    ‘Many years ago there was famine in the countryside. In Canton, many citizens tilled gardens and kept cattle. Hundreds of farmers flooded to the city to find food. That was when the walls were first built: to protect Canton from hungry outsiders.’
    ‘We aren’t going to steal rice.’ Babcock pulled his red ear. ‘We just want to take a look around the place.’
    ‘Ancestors make rules to be obeyed,’ Cheng-So Gilbert answered diplomatically. ‘But please do not feel you are missing anything by not seeing Canton, mister. As I say,the city is without architectural virtue. It is not a beautiful place. Also, the Cantonese shout at strangers. They are not a hospitable people. Believe me, mister, you would not be happy there.’
    Kiro spoke up from the other side of the circle. ‘You’d do well to believe him, Babcock. The Chinese do nothing but shout and scream. But they have so many dialects, even they do not know what they are all complaining about.’
    With an effort, Cheng-So Gilbert gave the Japanese Marine an amicable smile. ‘It is true, Captain Horne,’ he said. ‘There are many dialects in China.’ Closing his eyes, he clasped his tiny hands together and, bowing his head, confided, ‘I speak seventy-eight.’
    Babcock whistled. ‘That includes English?’
    ‘Of foreign tongues I speak eleven.’
    Jingee’s eyes widened. He prided himself on his knowledge of languages, but his tally was far below the number of tongues spoken by Cheng-So Gilbert.
    Ever the diplomat, the Chinaman continued, ‘But you do not need to understand people’s words to know when they do not want you in their city. The citizens of Canton will throw rocks at you. They will set their dogs on you. I have seen it.’
    ‘Dogs?’ Jud nudged Kiro. ‘Maybe I’ll stay aboard ship when he reach China. I don’t like dogs biting me.’
    Kiro laughed. ‘How do you like eating dogs? The Chinese find them delicious.’
    Babcock’s upper lip curled in disgust. ‘It’s true? Chinese eat dogs?’
    Cheng-So Gilbert answered, ‘Dogs are often served in China, yes, mister. My favourite dish, though, is a waterfowl which you will see in Whampoa’s harbour. You can recognise the bird by its warble.’
    Cheng-So Gilbert closed his eyes and, pursing his red lips, pulled on his Adam’s apple to make a long, gurgling sound.
    Horne joined in the men’s laughter, amused by the interpreter’s bird-call.
    He brought the subject back to safety. ‘You say it’s safe to walk along the wharves of Whampoa?’
    Cheng-So Gilbert nodded. ‘Yes, yes, Captain Horne. Whampoa is safe. Whampoa is very safe place. The Manchu desire free trade in Whampoa. You will be safe in Whampoa. In Whampoa you will see ships from many foreign countries. France. Denmark. The Netherlands. And, of course, England.’
    ‘How far is Canton from Whampoa?’ Horne asked.
    Cheng-So Gilbert pressed his tiny hands into an arch, dipping his head respectfully as he answered, ‘The distance between the port of Whampoa and Canton, Captain Horne, is eighteen miles.’
    The reply pleased Horne. It was the same number listed on the