The Chinaman has always been in the habit of coming to British Columbia, where he makes, as he does elsewhere, the finest servant in the world.  No one, I was assured on all hands, objects to the biddable Chinaman.  He takes work which no white man in a new country will handle, and when kicked by the mean white will not grossly retaliate.  He has always paid for the privilege of making his fortune on this wonderful coast, but with singular forethought and statesmanship, the popular Will, some few years ago, decided to double the head-tax on his entry.  Strange as it may appear, the Chinaman now charges double for his services, and is scarce at that.  This is said to be one of the reasons why overworked white women die or go off their heads; and why in new cities you can see blocks of flats being built to minimise the inconveniences of housekeeping without help.  The birth-rate will fall later in exact proportion to those flats.

Since the Russo-Japanese War the Japanese have taken to coming over to British Columbia.  They also do work which no white man will; such as hauling wet logs for lumber mills out of cold water at from eight to ten shillings a day.  They supply the service in hotels and dining-rooms and keep small shops.  The trouble with them is that they are just a little too good, and when attacked defend themselves with asperity.

A fair sprinkling of Punjabis—­ex-soldiers, Sikhs, Muzbis, and Jats—­are coming in on the boats.  The plague at home seems to have made them restless, but I could not gather why so many of them come from Shahpur, Phillour, and Jullundur way.  These men do not, of course, offer for house-service, but work in the lumber mills, and with the least little care and attention could be made most valuable.  Some one ought to tell them not to bring their old men with them, and better arrangements should be made for their remitting money home to their villages.  They are not understood, of course; but they are not hated.

The objection is all against the Japanese.  So far—­except that they are said to have captured the local fishing trade at Vancouver, precisely as the Malays control the Cape Town fish business—­they have not yet competed with the whites; but I was earnestly assured by many men that there was danger of their lowering the standard of life and wages.  The demand, therefore, in certain quarters is that they go—­absolutely and unconditionally. (You may have noticed that Democracies are strong on the imperative mood.) An attempt was made to shift them shortly before I came to Vancouver, but it was not very successful, because the Japanese barricaded their quarters and flocked out, a broken bottle held by the neck in either hand, which they jabbed in the faces of the demonstrators.  It is, perhaps, easier to haze and hammer bewildered Hindus and Tamils, as is being done across the Border, than to stampede the men of the Yalu and Liaoyang.[5]

[Footnote 5:  Battles in the Russo-Japanese War.]