Amongst the foreigners who sojourned regularly in Canton, Bahram was one of the few who travelled with his own entourage of servants. Since it was far cheaper to employ local men, most of the other merchants relied on their compradors to provide them with cooks, cleaners and coolies – it was these men who were now on the move, all of them at the same time. It was as if they had received warning of an impending eruption and were racing to get away.
Jostling for a place in the throng, Neel found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with one of the coolies who regularly delivered provisions to the Achha Hong. ‘Attay! What for all you-fellow walkee chop-chop?’
‘Yum-chae have talkee – all China-yan must makee go. Can-na stay.’
They were at the Fungtai Hong’s gates now: on stepping into the Maidan, Neel saw that similar streams of coolies and servants were pouring out of all thirteen hongs. Many foreigners had gathered in knots, to watch the spectacle. Neel spotted Baboo Nob Kissin’s saffron-clad figure, standing under one of the flagpoles, and went to join him.
What is happening, Nob Kissin Baboo?
Obvious, isn’t it? said the gomusta. They are moving out all the natives. The enclave is going to be cut off and isolated from the city.
The exodus of the servants took only half an hour. Shortly after it ended several detachments of the local constabulary entered the Maidan. Some of the policemen fanned out, shouting orders and making announcements. Almost at once the barbers began to fold up their portable sunshades. The food vendors doused their fires and the men who hosted tabletop cricket-fights coaxed their insects back into their cages. While the hawkers and hucksters were packing up their gear, the other denizens of Fanqui-town – the touts and twicers and trolls – were also being rounded up and herded out.
In the meanwhile, on the other side of the Maidan, the river too was astir with activity. Several small flotillas of boats were being brought around to face the factories; when the manoeuvre was completed, it was seen that the vessels had been arranged to form a three-tiered barricade: the first and second rows consisted of tea-barges, each with several dozen men on board; the third row was formed by a string of cargo-lighters: they were moored tightly together, forming a continuous line and leaving no room for even the smallest boat to pass between them. Then, as if to make it doubly clear that escape was not to be contemplated, a detachment of soldiers dragged all the foreign-owned boats out of the water and beached them on the embankment.
See, said Baboo Nob Kissin, see how carefully they have planned it? It is as if they want to make sure that not even a frog or mouse will get away.
Neel suggested a walk and Baboo Nob Kissin joined him in taking a turn around Fanqui-town. They quickly discovered that every thoroughfare that provided access to the enclave had been sealed off: Hog Lane, New China Street and Old China Street were all blocked at the mouth, by pickets; no one could pass through without producing the right chop.
Thirteen Hong Street had become a kind of no-man’s-land: the rear entrances of the factories had been bricked up a while ago, and now infantrymen with matchlocks and cartouche-boxes had been stationed along the entire length of the street.
Around sunset, lantern-poles were set up all around the enclave: when the lanterns were lit the Maidan was bathed in an outpouring of light.
The atmosphere in the Achha Hong’s kitchen was subdued that evening, and on the Seth’s instructions Vico, Mesto and the kitchen-chokras spent a good deal of time compiling a complete inventory of the provisions in the pantry. It was found that there was enough daal, rice, sugar, flour and oil to last for a month, but the drinking water was down to a two-day supply.
What do you think they’re planning? said Vico. Do you think they mean to to starve us?
The discussion had scarcely begun when a line of coolies appeared at the front door: it turned out they had been sent by the authorities to disburse rations. No. 1 Fungtai Hong received, as its allotment, sixty live chickens, two sheep, four geese, fifteen tubs of drinking water, a tub of sugar, bags of biscuits, sacks of flour, jars of oil and much else.
I don’t understand, said Vico, scratching his head. Are they trying to fatten us or starve us?
Outside there was no let-up in the activity: through the night the Maidan resounded to conch-shells, gongs, shouted orders and sudden, unnerving cries of K’an-ch’o! and Tseaou-Ch’o! as the officers exhorted their men to stay alert. Sleep was difficult that night.
In the morning, after choti-hazri had been served in the kitchen, Neel went again to look at the Maidan: the transformation was startling to behold – it was as if a carnival-site had been transformed overnight into a parade-ground. All the usual denizens were gone and there were armed men everywhere – five hundred of them or more – marching about or standing watchfully under the flags and pennants of their individual units.
The changes continued as the day progressed: around mid-morning a gang of workmen appeared and set up a tent in the middle of the Maidan. This was then occupied by a group of linkisters, led by Old Tom, who was the seniormost member of his profession.
What exactly were they doing there?
Neel was sent to investigate and came back to report that they had been posted there to deal with any inquiries and complaints the foreigners might have. Should any foreigner need to have any washing done, for instance, he had only to bring it to the tent – the linkisters would make sure that it was properly taken care of.
This made the Seth’s mouth drop open. They are keeping us prisoners and they are worried about our laundry?
Ji, Sethji. They said they do not want any foreigner to suffer the least discomfort.
A short while later several large armchairs were carried out and placed in the shade of the British Hong’s balcony. A number of Co-Hong merchants then trooped into the Maidan and occupied the chairs – there they remained, all day and night, keeping vigil in relays. It was as if they were being made to do penance for their failure to persuade their foreign partners to surrender their contraband.
Now, in ones and twos, a bedraggled little group of travellers came stumbling out into the Maidan: some were European sailors and some were lascars. They had come to Fanqui-town on shore leave the day before: having passed out in the dens of Hog Lane, they had only now awoken to the changed reality of the enclave. Being trapped in Fanqui-town, they were now offering themselves for employment.
Since many of the enclave’s merchants had lost their servants, this news caused great excitement in the factories: seasoned old traders came running half-dressed from the hongs and tripped over each other as they fell upon the mariners. None of the booze-befuddled sailors failed to find employment: in a matter of minutes they were dragged off to the hongs, to serve this master or that.
In the middle of the afternoon when the Maidan was baking in the glare of the sun, Baboo Nob Kissin burst into the Achha Hong with a cry for help: ‘Bachao! Emergency! Rescue measures must be immediately implemented!’
‘What has happened, Baboo Nob Kissin?’
‘Cows! They are suffering from heat-strokes and sun-rashes!’
It turned out that the departure of the enclave’s Chinese employees had deprived Fanqui-town’s small herd of cows of their caretakers; they were now suffering dreadfully in the mid-day heat. Their plight had wrung the heart of the cow-loving milkmaid who lurked within Baboo Nob Kissin’s bosom: he would not rest until Neel had recruited a team of khidmatgars to help him erect a makeshift shelter of bamboo matting over the cattle-pen.
Towards the end of the day a new militia made its appearance in the Maidan: it had been drafted almost entirely from the corps of men who had worked as servants in the foreign factories. Now they were armed with pikes, lances and staves and were smartly dressed in jackets with red cummerbunds. Every man was carrying a rattan shield; on every head was a sturdy conical hat, inscribed with large Chinese characters.