Night settled down quickly, for in a tropical climate the twilight does
not last so long as with us. In Hongkong the sun hardly sets before it
is dark, and this evening as the moon, almost at the full, stood high
in the heavens, Lihoa had no occasion to light the little lantern which
he carried with him. He found the footpath leading up the hill without
difficulty, and his people followed after him goose-fashion in single
file. Almost at the top they came to the cell in the rock occupied by
the priest of the God of the Golden Fish, and in the moonlight to their
astonishment saw in the broad open space in front of it a group of men
from the neighboring villages. At a signal from Lihoa the carriers
placed their burden upon the ground and all went forward to see what
the gathering meant.

"Have you heard nothing, Lihoa, of the great scheme which is on foot?"
asked the leader of the most important of the villages on the north
coast of Hongkong. "Has not the recruiting officer of the rich Natse
been to your village?--Oh, it is so small and hidden away that he does
not deem it worth his while to go to you, and then, besides, the three
hundred who are wanted have announced their intention to go, for who
would remain here and tiresomely drag out existence with the niggardly
sums to be made from fishing when elsewhere the gold lies in such heaps
that one can pick up whole bags full in a few days?"

"How? What? For heaven's sake!--sacks full of gold in a few days?"
cried Lihoa, who, like all Chinamen, was covetous of great wealth.
"Speak, Lohe, tell us, can we get some of the gold,--at least a handful
or two? It is just as you say, our village is the last and the very
least in the world, and not a soul has come to us with the good news.
Tell us the road to fortune."