The Phantom Vessel
Summary
Not Available
Story
Once a ship loaded with pleasure-seekers was sailing from North China
to Shanghai. High winds and stormy weather had delayed her, and she was
still one week from port when a great plague broke out on board. This
plague was of the worst kind. It attacked passengers and sailors alike
until there were so few left to sail the vessel that it seemed as if she
would soon be left to the mercy of winds and waves.

On all sides lay the dead, and the groans of the dying were most
terrible to hear. Of that great company of travellers only one, a
little boy named Ying-lo, had escaped. At last the few sailors, who
had been trying hard to save their ship, were obliged to lie down upon
the deck, a prey to the dreadful sickness, and soon they too were
dead.

Ying-lo now found himself alone on the sea. For some reason--he did not
know why--the gods or the sea fairies had spared him, but as he looked
about in terror at the friends and loved ones who had died, he almost
wished that he might join them.

The sails flapped about like great broken wings, while the giant waves
dashed higher above the deck, washing many of the bodies overboard and
wetting the little boy to the skin. Shivering with cold, he gave himself
up for lost and prayed to the gods, whom his mother had often told him
about, to take him from this dreadful ship and let him escape the fatal
illness.

As he lay there praying he heard a slight noise in the rigging just
above his head. Looking up, he saw a ball of fire running along a
yardarm near the top of the mast. The sight was so strange that he
forgot his prayer and stared with open-mouthed wonder. To his
astonishment, the ball grew brighter and brighter, and then suddenly
began slipping down the mast, all the time increasing in size. The poor
boy did not know what to do or to think. Were the gods, in answer to his
prayer, sending fire to burn the vessel? If so, he would soon escape.
Anything would be better than to be alone upon the sea.

Nearer and nearer came the fireball. At last, when it reached the deck,
to Ying-lo's surprise, something very, very strange happened. Before he
had time to feel alarmed, the light vanished, and a funny little man
stood in front of him peering anxiously into the child's frightened
face.

"Yes, you are the lad I'm looking for," he said at last, speaking in a
piping voice that almost made Ying-lo smile. "You are Ying-lo, and you
are the only one left of this wretched company." This he said, pointing
towards the bodies lying here and there about the deck.

Although he saw that the old man meant him no harm, the child could say
nothing, but waited in silence, wondering what would happen next.

By this time the vessel was tossing and pitching so violently that it
seemed every minute as if it would upset and go down beneath the foaming
waves, never to rise again. Not many miles distant on the right, some
jagged rocks stuck out of the water, lifting their cruel heads as if
waiting for the helpless ship.

The newcomer walked slowly towards the mast and tapped on it three times
with an iron staff he had been using as a cane. Immediately the sails
spread, the vessel righted itself and began to glide over the sea so
fast that the gulls were soon left far behind, while the threatening
rocks upon which the ship had been so nearly dashed seemed like specks
in the distance.

"Do you remember me?" said the stranger, suddenly turning and coming up
to Ying-lo, but his voice was lost in the whistling of the wind, and the
boy knew only by the moving of his lips that the old man was talking.
The greybeard bent over until his mouth was at Ying-lo's ear: "Did you
ever see me before?"

With a puzzled look, at first the child shook his head. Then as he gazed
more closely there seemed to be something that he recognized about the
wrinkled face. "Yes, I think so, but I don't know when."

With a tap of his staff the fairy stopped the blowing of the wind, and
then spoke once more to his small companion: "One year ago I passed
through your village. I was dressed in rags, and was begging my way
along the street, trying to find some one who would feel sorry for me.
Alas! no one answered my cry for mercy. Not a crust was thrown into my
bowl. All the people were deaf, and fierce dogs drove me from door to
door. Finally when I was almost dying of hunger, I began to feel that
here was a village without one good person in it. Just then you saw my
suffering, ran into the house, and brought me out food. Your heartless
mother saw you doing this and beat you cruelly. Do you remember now, my
child?"

"Yes, I remember," he answered sadly, "and that mother is now lying
dead. Alas! all, all are dead, my father and my brothers also. Not one
is left of my family."

"Little did you know, my boy, to whom you were giving food that day.
You took me for a lowly beggar, but, behold, it was not a poor man that
you fed, for I am Iron Staff. You must have heard of me when they were
telling of the fairies in the Western Heaven, and of their adventures
here on earth."

"Yes, yes," answered Ying-lo, trembling half with fear and half with
joy, "indeed I have heard of you many, many times, and all the people
love you for your kind deeds of mercy."

"Alas! they did not show their love, my little one. Surely you know that
if any one wishes to reward the fairies for their mercies, he must begin
to do deeds of the same kind himself. No one but you in all your village
had pity on me in my rags. If they had known that I was Iron Staff,
everything would have been different; they would have given me a feast
and begged for my protection.


"The only love that loves aright
Is that which loves in every plight.
The beggar in his sad array
Is moulded of the selfsame clay.

"Who knows a man by what he wears,
By what he says or by his prayers?
Hidden beneath that wrinkled skin
A fairy may reside within.

"Then treat with kindness and with love
The lowly man, the god above;
A friendly nod, a welcome smile--
For love is ever worth the while."


Ying-lo listened in wonder to Iron Staff's little poem, and when he had
finished, the boy's face was glowing with the love of which the fairy
had spoken. "My poor, poor father and mother!" he cried; "they knew
nothing of these beautiful things you are telling me. They were brought
up in poverty. As they were knocked about in childhood by those around
them, so they learned to beat others who begged them for help. Is it
strange that they did not have hearts full of pity for you when you
looked like a beggar?"

"But what about you, my boy? You were not deaf when I asked you. Have
you not been whipped and punished all your life? How then did you learn
to look with love at those in tears?"

The child could not answer these questions, but only looked sorrowfully
at Iron Staff. "Oh, can you not, good fairy, will you not restore my
parents and brothers, and give them another chance to be good and useful
people?"

"Listen, Ying-lo; it is impossible--unless you do two things first," he
answered, stroking his beard gravely and leaning heavily upon his staff.

"What are they? What must I do to save my family? Anything you ask of me
will not be too much to pay for your kindness."

"First you must tell me of some good deed done by these people for whose
lives you are asking. Name only one, for that will be enough; but it is
against our rules to help those who have done nothing."

Ying-lo was silent, and for a moment his face was clouded. "Yes, I
know," he said finally, brightening. "They burned incense once at the
temple. That was certainly a deed of virtue."

"But when was it, little one, that they did this?"

"When my big brother was sick, and they were praying for him to get
well. The doctors could not save him with boiled turnip juice or with
any other of the medicines they used, so my parents begged the gods."

"Selfish, selfish!" muttered Iron Staff. "If their eldest son had not
been dying they would have spent no money at the temple. They tried in
this way to buy back his health, for they were expecting him to support
them in their old age."

Ying-lo's face fell. "You are right," he answered.

"Can you think of nothing else?"

"Yes, oh, yes, last year when the foreigner rode through our village and
fell sick in front of our house, they took him in and cared for him."

"How long?" asked the other sharply.

"Until he died the next week."

"And what did they do with the mule he was riding, his bed, and the
money in his bag? Did they try to restore them to his people?"

"No, they said they'd keep them to pay for the trouble." Ying-lo's face
turned scarlet.

"But try again, dear boy! Is there not one little deed of goodness that
was not selfish? Think once more."

For a long time Ying-lo did not reply. At length he spoke in a low
voice; "I think of one, but I fear it amounts to nothing."

"No good, my child, is too small to be counted when the gods are
weighing a man's heart."

"Last spring the birds were eating in my father's garden. My mother
wanted to buy poison from the shop to destroy them, but my father said
no, that the little things must live, and he for one was not in favour
of killing them."

"At last, Ying-lo, you have named a real deed of mercy, and as he spared
the tiny birds from poison, so shall his life and the lives of your
mother and brothers be restored from the deadly plague.

"But remember there is one other thing that depends on you."

Ying-lo's eyes glistened gratefully. "Then if it rests with me, and I
can do it, you have my promise. No sacrifice should be too great for a
son to make for his loved ones even though his life itself is asked in
payment."

"Very well, Ying-lo. What I require is that you carry out to the letter
my instructions. Now it is time for me to keep my promise to you."

So saying, Iron Staff called on Ying-lo to point out the members of his
family, and, approaching them one by one, with the end of his iron stick
he touched their foreheads. In an instant each, without a word, arose.
Looking round and recognising Ying-lo, they stood back, frightened at
seeing him with the fairy. When the last had risen to his feet, Iron
Staff beckoned all of them to listen. This they did willingly, too much
terrified to speak, for they saw on all sides signs of the plague that
had swept over the vessel, and they remembered the frightful agony they
had suffered in dying. Each knew that he had been lifted by some magic
power from darkness into light.

"My friends," began the fairy, "little did you think when less than a
year ago you drove me from your door that soon you yourselves would be
in need of mercy. To-day you have had a peep into the awful land of
Yama. You have seen the horror of his tortures, have heard the screams
of his slaves, and by another night you would have been carried before
him to be judged. What power is it that has saved you from his clutches?
As you look back through your wicked lives can you think of any reason
why you deserved this rescue? No, there is no memory of goodness in
your black hearts. Well, I shall tell you: it is this little boy, this
Ying-lo, who many times has felt the weight of your wicked hands and
has hidden in terror at your coming. To him alone you owe my help."

Father, mother, and brothers all gazed in turn, first at the fairy and
then at the timid child whose eyes fell before their looks of gratitude.

"By reason of his goodness this child whom you have scorned is worthy of
a place within the Western Heaven. In truth, I came this very day to
lead him to that fairyland. For you, however, he wishes to make a
sacrifice. With sorrow I am yielding to his wishes. His sacrifice will
be that of giving up a place among the fairies and of continuing to live
here on this earth with you. He will try to make a change within your
household. If at any time you treat him badly and do not heed his
wishes--mark you well my words--by the power of this magic staff which I
shall place in his hands, he may enter at once into the land of the
fairies, leaving you to die in your wickedness. This I command him to
do, and he has promised to obey my slightest wish.

"This plague took you off suddenly and ended your wicked lives. Ying-lo
has raised you from its grasp and his power can lift you from the bed of
sin. No other hand than his can bear the rod which I am leaving. If one
of you but touch it, instantly he will fall dead upon the ground.

"And now, my child, the time has come for me to leave you. First,
however, I must show you what you are now able to do. Around you lie the
corpses of sailors and passengers. Tap three times upon the mast and
wish that they shall come to life," So saying he handed Ying-lo the iron
staff.

Although the magic rod was heavy, the child lifted it as if it were a
fairy's wand. Then, stepping forward to the mast, he rapped three times
as he had been commanded. Immediately on all sides arose the bodies,
once more full of life and strength.

"Now command the ship to take you back to your home port, for such
sinful creatures as these are in no way fit to make a journey among
strangers. They must first return and free their homes of sin."

Again rapping on the mast, the child willed the great vessel to take
its homeward course. No sooner had he moved the staff than, like a bird
wheeling in the heavens, the bark swung round and started on the return
journey. Swifter than a flash of lightning flew the boat, for it was
now become a fairy vessel. Before the sailors and the travellers could
recover from their surprise, land was sighted and they saw that they
were indeed entering the harbour.

Just as the ship was darting toward the shore the fairy suddenly, with
a parting word to Ying-lo, changed into a flaming ball of fire which
rolled along the deck and ascended the spars. Then, as it reached the
top of the rigging, it floated off into the blue sky, and all on board,
speechless with surprise, watched it until it vanished.

With a cry of thanksgiving, Ying-lo flung his arms about his parents and
descended with them to the shore.