ACROSS CHINA ON FOOT

_By_

EDWIN JOHN DINGLE

1911

IN GRATEFUL ESTEEM

DURING MY TRAVELS IN INTERIOR CHINA I ONCELAY AT THE POINT OF DEATH. FOR THEIR UNREMITTINGKINDNESS DURING A LONG ILLNESS, INOW AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME TOMY FRIENDS, MR. AND MRS. A. EVANS, OF TONG-CH'UAN-FU, YÜN-NAN, SOUTH-WEST CHINA, TOWHOSE DEVOTED NURSING AND UNTIRING CAREI OWE MY LIFE. 

CONTENTS

BOOK I. 

FROM THE STRAITS TO SHANGHAI--INTRODUCTORY

FIRST JOURNEY. 

 CHAPTER I. FROM SHANGHAI UP THE LOWER YANGTZE TO ICHANG

SECOND JOURNEY--ICHANG TO CHUNG-KING THROUGH THE YANGTZE GORGES. 

 CHAPTER II. THE ICHANG GORGE CHAPTER III. THE YANGTZE RAPIDS CHAPTER IV. THE YEH T'AN RAPID. ARRIVAL AT KWEIEU

THIRD JOURNEY--CHUNG-KING TO SUI-FU (VIA LUCHOW). 

 CHAPTER V. BEGINNING OF THE OVERLAND JOURNEY CHAPTER VI. THE PEOPLE OF SZECH'WAN

FOURTH JOURNEY--SUI-FU TO CHAO-T'ONG-FU (VIA LAO-WA-T'AN). 

 CHAPTER VII. DESCRIPTION OF JOURNEY FROM SUI-FU CHAPTER VIII. SZECH'WAN AND YÜN-NAN

THE CHAO-T'ONG REBELLION OF 1910. 

 CHAPTER IX. 

THE TRIBES OF NORTH-EAST YÜN-NAN, AND MISSION WORK AMONG THEM. 

 CHAPTER X. 

FIFTH JOURNEY--CHAO-T'ONG-FU TO TONG-CH'UAN-FU. 

 CHAPTER XI. AUTHOR MEETS WITH ACCIDENT CHAPTER XII. YÜN-NAN'S CHECKERED CAREER. ILLNESS OF AUTHOR

BOOK II. 

FIRST JOURNEY--TONG-CH'UAN-FU TO THE CAPITAL. 

 CHAPTER XIII. DEPARTURE FOR BURMA. DISCOMFORTS OF TRAVEL CHAPTER XIV. YÜN-NAN-FU, THE CAPITAL

SECOND JOURNEY--YÜN-NAN-FU TO TALI-FU (VIA CH'U-HSIONG-FU). 

 CHAPTER XV. DOES CHINA WANT THE FOREIGNER? CHAPTER XVI. LU-FENG-HSIEN. MOUNTAINOUS COUNTRY. CHINESE UNTRUTHFULNESS CHAPTER XVII. KWANG-TUNG-HSIEN TO SHACHIAO-KA CHAPTER XVIII. STORM IN THE MOUNTAINS. AT HUNGAY CHAPTER XIX. THE REFORM MOVEMENT IN YÜN-NAN. ARRIVAL AT TALI-FU

THIRD JOURNEY--TALI-FU TO THE MEKONG VALLEY. 

 CHAPTER XX. HARDEST PART OF THE JOURNEY. HWAN-LIEN-P'U CHAPTER XXI. THE MOUNTAINS OF YÜN-NAN. SHAYUNG. OPIUM SMOKING

FOURTH JOURNEY--THE MEKONG VALLEY TO TENGYUEH. 

 CHAPTER XXII. THE RIVER MEKONG CHAPTER XXIII. THROUGH THE SALWEN VALLEY TO TENGYUEH CHAPTER XXIV. THE LI-SU TRIBE OF THE SALWEN VALLEY

FIFTH JOURNEY--TENGYUEH (MOMIEN) TO BHAMO IN UPPER BURMA. 

 CHAPTER XXV. SHANS AND KACHINS CHAPTER XXVI. END OF LONG JOURNEY. ARRIVAL IN BURMA

_To travel in China is easy. To walk across China, over roadsacknowledgedly worse than are met with in any civilized country in thetwo hemispheres, and having accommodation unequalled for crudeness andinsanitation, is not easy. In deciding to travel in China, I determinedto cross overland from the head of the Yangtze Gorges to British Burmaon foot; and, although the strain nearly cost me my life, no conveyancewas used in any part of my journey other than at two points described inthe course of the narrative. For several days during my travels I lay atthe point of death. The arduousness of constant mountaineering_--_forsuch is ordinary travel in most parts of Western China_--_laid thefoundation of a long illness, rendering it impossible for me to continuemy walking, and as a consequence I resided in the interior of Chinaduring a period of convalescence of several months duration, at the endof which I continued my cross-country tramp. Subsequently I returnedinto Yün-nan from Burma, lived again in Tong-ch'uan-fu andChao-t'ong-fu, and traveled in the wilds of the surrounding country. Whilst traveling I lived on Chinese food, and in the Miao country, whererice could not be got, subsisted for many days on maize only. 

My sole object in going to China was a personal desire to see China fromthe inside. My trip was undertaken for no other purpose. I carried noinstruments (with the exception of an aneroid), and did not even make asingle survey of the untrodden country through which I occasionallypassed. So far as I know, I am the only traveler, apart from members ofthe missionary community, who has ever resided far away in the interiorof the Celestial Empire for so long a time. 

Most of the manuscript for this book was written as I went along>--agood deal of it actually by the roadside in rural China. When my journeywas completed, the following news paragraph in the North China DailyNews (of Shanghai) was brought to my notice:--

 "All the Legations (at Peking) have received anonymous letters from alleged revolutionaries in Shanghai, containing the warning that an extensive anti-dynastic uprising is imminent. If they do not assist the Manchus, foreigners will not be harmed; otherwise, they will be destroyed in a general massacre. 

 "The missives were delivered mysteriously, bearing obliterated postmarks. 

 "In view of the recent similar warnings received by the Consuls, uneasiness has been created. "

The above appeared in the journal quoted on June 3rd, 1910. The reader, in perusing my previously written remarks on the spirit of reform andhow far it has penetrated into the innermost corners of the empire, should bear this paragraph in mind, for there is more Boxerism andunrest in China than we know of. My account of the Hankow riots ofJanuary, 1911, through which I myself went, will, with my experience ofrebellions in Yün-nan, justify my assertion. 

I should like to thank all those missionaries who entertained me as Iproceeded through China, especially Mr. John Graham and Mr. C. A. Fleischmann, of the China Inland Mission, who transacted a good deal ofbusiness for me and took all trouble uncomplainingly. I am also indebtedto Dr. Clark, of Tali-fu, and to the Revs. H. Parsons and S. Pollard, for several photographs illustrating that section of this book dealingwith the tribes of Yün-nan. 

I wish to express my acknowledgments to several well-known writers onfar Eastern topics, notably to Dr. G. E. Morrison, of Peking, the Rev. Sidney L. Hulick, M. A. , D. D. , and Mr. H. B. Morse, whose works arequoted. Much information was also gleaned from other sources. 

My thanks are due also to Mr. W. Brayton Slater and to my brother, Mr. W. R. Dingle, for their kindness in having negotiated with my publishersin my absence in Inland China; and to the latter, for unfailing courtesyand patience, I am under considerable obligation. "Across China on Foot"would have appeared in the autumn of 1910 had the printers' proofs, which were several times sent to me to different addresses in China, butwhich dodged me repeatedly, come sooner to hand_. 

[Signature: Edwin Dingle]

HANKOW, HUPEH, CHINA. 

Across China on Foot

_From the Straits to Shanghai_

INTRODUCTORY

_The scheme_. _Why I am walking across Interior China_. _LeavingSingapore_. _Ignorance of life and travel in China_. _The "China for theChinese" cry_. _The New China and the determination of the Government_. _The voice of the people_. _The province of Yün-nan and the forwardmovement_. _A prophecy_. _Impressions of Saigon_. _Comparison of Frenchand English methods_. _At Hong-Kong_. _Cold sail up the Whang-poo_. _Disembarkation_. _Foreign population of Shanghai_. _Congestion in thecity_. _Wonderful Shanghai. _

Through China from end to end. From Shanghai, 1, 500 miles by river and1, 600 miles walking overland, from the greatest port of the ChineseEmpire to the frontier of British Burma. 

That is my scheme. 

 * * * * *

I am a journalist, one of the army of the hard-worked who go down earlyto the Valley. I state this because I would that the truth be told; forwhilst engaged in the project with which this book has mainly to deal Iwas subjected to peculiar designations, such as "explorer" and othernewspaper extravagances, and it were well, perhaps, for my reader toknow once for all that the writer is merely a newspaper man, at the timeon holiday. 

The rather extreme idea of walking across this Flowery Land came to meearly in the year 1909, although for many years I had cherished the hopeof seeing Interior China ere modernity had robbed her and her wonderfulpeople of their isolation and antediluvianism, and ever since childhoodmy interest in China has always been considerable. A little prior to theChinese New Year, a friend of mine dined with me at my rooms inSingapore, in the Straits Settlements, and the conversation about Chinaresulted in our decision then and there to travel through the Empire onholiday. He, because at the time he had little else to do; the author, because he thought that a few months' travel in mid-China would, from ajournalistic standpoint, be passed profitably, the intention being toarrive home in dear old England late in the summer of the same year. 

We agreed to cross China on foot, and accordingly on February 22, 1909, just as the sun was sinking over the beautiful harbor of Singapore--thatmost valuable strategic Gate of the Far East, where Crown Colonialadministration, however, is allowed by a lethargic British Government tobecome more and more bungled every year--we settled down on board theFrench mail steamer _Nera_, bound for Shanghai. My friends, goodfellows, in reluctantly speeding me on my way, prophesied that thiswould prove to be my last long voyage to a last long rest, that theChinese would never allow me to come out of China alive. Such is theignorance of the average man concerning the conditions of life andtravel in the interior of this Land of Night. 

Here, then, was I on my way to that land towards which all the world wasstraining its eyes, whose nation, above all nations of the earth, wasaltering for better things, and coming out of its historic shell. "Reform, reform, reform, " was the echo, and I myself was on the way tohear it. 

At the time I started for China the cry of "China for the Chinese" washeard in all countries, among all peoples. Statesmen were startled byit, editors wrote the phrase to death, magazines were filled withcopy--good, bad and indifferent--mostly written, be it said, by menwhose knowledge of the question was by no means complete: editorialopinion, and contradiction of that opinion, were printed side by side injournals having a good name. To one who endeavored actually tounderstand what was being done, and whither these broad tendencies andstrange cravings of the Chinese were leading a people who formerly wereso indifferent to progress, it seemed essential that he should go to thecountry, and there on the spot make a study of the problem. 

Was the reform, if genuine at all, universal in China? Did it reach tothe ends of the Empire?

That a New China had come into being, and was working astounding resultsin the enlightened provinces above the Yangtze and those connected withthe capital by railway, was common knowledge; but one found it hard tobelieve that the west and the south-west of the empire were moved by thesame spirit of Europeanism, and it will be seen that China in the westmoves, if at all, but at a snail's pace: the second part of this volumedeals with that portion of the subject. 

And it may be that the New China, as we know it in the more forwardspheres of activity, will only take her proper place in the family ofnations after fresh upheavals. Rivers of blood may yet have to flow as asickening libation to the gods who have guided the nation for fortycenturies before she will be able to attain her ambition of standingline to line with the other powers of the eastern and western worlds. But it seems that no matter what the cost, no matter what she may haveto suffer financially and nationally, no matter how great the obstinacyof the people towards the reform movement, the change is coming, hasalready come with alarming rapidity, and has come to stay. China ischanging--let so much be granted; and although the movement may behampered by a thousand general difficulties, presented by the ancientcivilization of a people whose customs and manners and ideas have stoodthe test of time since the days contemporary with those of Solomon, andat one time bade fair to test eternity, the Government cry of "China forthe Chinese" is going to win. Chinese civilization has for ages beenallowed to get into a very bad state of repair, and official corruptionand deceit have prevented the Government from making an effectual movetowards present-day aims; but that she is now making an honest endeavorto rectify her faults in the face of tremendous odds must, so it appearsto the writer, be apparent to all beholders. That is the Governmentview-point. It is important to note this. 

In China, however, the Government is not the people. It never has been. It is not to be expected that great political and social reforms can beintroduced into such an enormous country as China, and among her fourhundred and thirty millions of people, merely by the issue of a fewimperial edicts. The masses have to be convinced that any given thing isfor the public good before they accept, despite the proclamations, andin thus convincing her own people China has yet to go through the fireof a terrible ordeal. Especially will this be seen in the second part ofthis volume, where in Yün-nan there are huge areas absolutely untouchedby the forward movement, and where the people are living the same lifeof disease, distress and dirt, of official, social, and moraldegradation as they lived when the Westerner remained still in theprimeval forest stage. But despite the scepticism and the cynicism ofcertain writers, whose pessimism is due to a lack of foresight, anddespite the fact that she is being constantly accused of having in thepast ignominiously failed at the crucial moment in endeavors towardsminor reforms, I am one of those who believe that in China we shall seearising a Government whose power will be paramount in the East, and uponthe integrity of whose people will depend the peace of Europe. It ismuch to say. We shall not see it, but our children will. The Governmentis going to conquer the people. She has done so already in certainprovinces, and in a few years the reform--deep and real, not themake-believe we see in many parts of the Empire to-day--will beuniversal. 

 * * * * *

Between Singapore and Shanghai the opportunity occurred of calling atSaigon and Hong-Kong, two cities offering instructive contrasts ofFrench and British administration in the Far East. 

Saigon is not troubled much by the Britisher. The nationally-exactingFrenchman has brought it to represent fairly his loved Paris in theEast. The approach to the city, through the dirty brown mud of thetreacherous Mekong, which is swept down vigorously to the China seabetween stretches of monotonous mangrove, with no habitation of mananywhere visible, is distinctly unpicturesque; but Saigon itself, apartfrom the exorbitance of the charges (especially so to the spendthriftEnglishman), is worth the dreary journey of numberless twists and quickturns up-river, annoying to the most patient pilot. 

In the daytime, Saigon is as hot as that last bourne whither allevil-doers wander--Englishmen and dogs alone are seen abroad betweennine and one. But in the soothing cool of the soft tropical evening, gay-lit boulevards, a magnificent State-subsidized opera-house, alfrescocafés where dawdle the domino-playing absinthe drinkers, thefierce-moustached gendarmes, and innumerable features typically andpicturesquely French, induced me easily to believe myself back in thebewildering whirl of the Boulevard des Capucines or des Italiennes. Whether the narrow streets of the native city are clean or dirty, whether garbage heaps lie festering in the broiling sun, sending theirdisgusting effluvia out to annoy the sense of smell at every turn, themunicipality cares not a little bit. Indifference to the well-being ofthe native pervades it; there is present no progressive prosperity. Every second person I met was, or seemed to be, a Government official. He was dressed in immaculate white clothes of the typical ugly Frenchcut, trimmed elaborately with an _ad libitum_ decoration of gold braidand brass buttons. All was so different from Singapore and Hong-Kong, and one did not feel, in surroundings which made strongly for the_laissez-faire_ of the Frenchman in the East, ashamed of the fact thathe was an Englishman. 

Three days north lies Hong-Kong, an all-important link in the armedchain of Britain's empire east of Suez, bone of the bone and flesh ofthe flesh of Great Britain beyond the seas. The history of this island, ceded to us in 1842 by the Treaty of Nanking, is known to everyone inEurope, or should be. 

Four and a half days more, and we anchored at Woo-sung; and a few hourslater, after a terribly cold run up the river in the teeth of a terrificwind, we arrived at Shanghai. 

The average man in Europe and America does not know that this greatmetropolis of the Far East is far removed from salt water, and that itis the first point on entering the Yangtze-kiang at which a port couldbe established. It is twelve miles up the Whang-poo. Junks whirled pastwith curious tattered brown sails, resembling dilapidated verandahblinds, merchantmen were there flying the flags of the nations of theworld, all churning up the yellow stream as they hurried to catch theflood-tide at the bar. Then came the din of disembarkation. Enthusiastichotel-runners, hard-worked coolies, rickshaw men, professional Chinesebeggars, and the inevitable hangers-on of a large eastern city crowdedaround me to turn an honest or dishonest penny. Some rude, rough-hewnlout, covered with grease and coal-dust, pushed bang against me andhurled me without ceremony from his path. My baggage, meantime, wasthrown onto a two-wheeled van, drawn by four of those poor human beastsof burden--how horrible to have been born a Chinese coolie!--and I waswhirled away to my hotel for tucker. The French mail had given us coffeeand rolls at six, but the excitement of landing at a foreign port doesnot usually produce the net amount of satisfaction to or make for thesustenance of the inner man of the phlegmatic Englishman, as with thewilder-natured Frenchman. Therefore were our spirits ruffled. 

However, my companion and I fed later. 

Subsequently to this we agreed not to be drawn to the clubs or mix inthe social life of Shanghai, but to consider ourselves as two beingsentirely apart from the sixteen thousand and twenty-three Britishers, Americans, Frenchmen, Germans, Russians, Danes, Portuguese, and othersundry internationals at that moment at Shanghai. They lived there: wewere soon to leave. 

The city was suffering from the abnormal congestion common to theOrient, with a big dash of the West. Trams, motors, rickshaws, thepeculiar Chinese wheelbarrow, horrid public shaky landaus in miniature, conveyances of all kinds, and the swarming masses of coolie humanitycarrying or hauling merchandise amid incessant jabbering, yelling, andvociferating, made intense bewilderment before breakfast. 

Wonderful Shanghai!

FIRST JOURNEY

FROM SHANGHAI UP THE LOWER YANGTZE TO ICHANG

CHAPTER I. 

_To Ichang, an everyday trip_. _Start from Shanghai, and the city'sappearance_. _At Hankow_. _Meaning of the name_. _Trio of strategic andmilitary points of the empire_. _Han-yang and Wu-ch'ang_. _Commercial andindustrial future of Hankow_. _Getting our passports_. _Britishers in thecity_. _The commercial Chinaman_. _The native city: some impressions_. _Clothing of the people_. _Cotton and wool_. _Indifference to comfort_. _Surprise at our daring project_. _At Ichang_. _British gunboat and earlymorning routine_. _Our vain quest for aid_. _Laying in stores andcommissioning our boat_. _Ceremonies at starting gorges trip_. _Raisinganchor, and our departure_. 

Let no one who has been so far as Ichang, a thousand miles from the sea, imagine that he has been into the interior of China. 

It is quite an everyday trip. Modern steamers, with every modernconvenience and luxury, probably as comfortable as any river steamers inthe world, ply regularly in their two services between Shanghai and thisport, at the foot of the Gorges. 

The Whang-poo looked like the Thames, and the Shanghai Bund like theEmbankment, when I embarked on board a Jap boat _en route_ for Hankow, and thence to Ichang by a smaller steamer, on a dark, bitterly coldSaturday night, March 6th, 1909. I was to travel fifteen hundred milesup that greatest artery of China. The Yangtze surpasses in importance tothe Celestial Empire what the Mississippi is to America, and yet evenin China there are thousands of resident foreigners who know no moreabout this great river than the average Smithfield butcher. Ask ten menin Fleet Street or in Wall Street where Ichang is, and nine will beunable to tell you. Yet it is a port of great importance, when oneconsiders that the handling of China's vast river-borne trade has beenopened to foreign trade and residence since the Chefoo Convention wassigned in 1876, that Ichang is a city of forty thousand souls, and has agross total of imports of nearly forty millions of taels. 

Of Hankow, however, more is known. Here we landed after a four days'run, and, owing to the low water, had to wait five days before theshallower-bottomed steamer for the higher journey had come in. The cityis made up of foreign concessions, as in other treaty ports, but away inthe native quarter there is the real China, with her selfish rush, hersqualidness and filth among the teeming thousands. There dwell together, literally side by side, but yet eternally apart, all the conflictingelements of the East and West which go to make up a city in the FarEast, and particularly the China coast. 

Hankow means literally Han Mouth, being situated at the juncture of theHan River and the Yangtze. Across the way, as I write, I can seeHan-yang, with its iron works belching out black curls of smoke, wherethe arsenal turns out one hundred Mauser rifles daily. (This is but afraction of the total work done. ) It is, I believe, the onlysteel-rolling mill in China. Long before the foreigner set foot so farup the Yangtze, Hankow was a city of great importance--the Chinese usedto call it the centre of the world. Ten years ago I should have beenthirty days' hard travel from Peking; at the present moment I mightpack my bag and be in Peking within thirty-six hours. Hankow, withTientsin and Nanking, makes up the trio of principal strategic points ofthe Empire, the trio of centers also of greatest military activity. Onthe opposite bank of the river I can see Wu-ch'ang, the provincialcapital, the seat of the Viceroyalty of two of the most turbulent andimportant provinces of the whole eighteen. 

Hankow, Han-yang, and Wu-ch'ang have a population of something like twomillion people, and it is safe to prophesy that no other centre in thewhole world has a greater commercial and industrial future than Hankow. 

Here we registered as British subjects, and secured our Chinesepassports, resembling naval ensigns more than anything else, for thefour provinces of Hu-peh, Kwei-chow, Szech'wan, and Yün-nan. TheConsul-General and his assistants helped us in many ways, disillusioningus of the many distorted reports which have got into print regarding theindifference shown to British travelers by their own consuls at theseports. We found the brethren at the Hankow Club a happy band, with everyluxury around them for which hand and heart could wish; so that it wereperhaps ludicrous to look upon them as exiles, men out in the outpostsof Britain beyond the seas, building up the trade of the Empire. Yetsuch they undoubtedly were, most of them having a much better time thanthey would at home. There is not the roughing required in Hankow whichis necessary in other parts of the empire, as in British East Africa andin the jungles of the Federated Malay States, for instance. Building theEmpire where there is an abundance of the straw wherewith to make thebricks, is a matter of no difficulty. 

And then the Chinese is a good man to manage in trade, and in businessdealings his word is his bond, generally speaking, although we do notforget that not long ago a branch in North China of the Hong-kong andShanghai Bank was swindled seriously by a shroff who had done honestduty for a great number of years. It cannot, however, be said that suchbehavior is a common thing among the commercial class. My personalexperience has been that John does what he says he will do, and foryears he will go on doing that one thing; but it should not surprise youif one fine morning, with the infinite sagacity of his race, he ceasesto do this when you are least expecting it--and he "does" you. Keep aneye on him, and the Chinese to be found in Hankow having dealings withEuropeans in business is as good as the best of men. 

We wended our way one morning into the native city, and agreed that fewinconveniences of the Celestial Empire make upon the western mind a morespeedy impression than the entire absence of sanitation. In Hankow wewere in mental suspense as to which was the filthier native city--Hankowor Shanghai. But we are probably like other travelers, who find eachcity visited worse than the last. Should there arise in their midst aman anxious to confer an everlasting blessing upon his fellow Chinese, no better work could he do than to institute a system approaching whatto our Western mind is sanitation. We arrived, of course, in the winter, and, having seen it at a time when the sun could do but little inincreasing the stenches, we leave to the imagination what it would be inthe summer, in a city which for heat is not excelled by Aden. [A] Duringthe summer of 1908 no less than twenty-eight foreigners succumbed tocholera, and the native deaths were numberless. 

The people were suffering very much from the cold, and it struck me asone of the unaccountable phenomena of their civilization that in theiringenuity in using the gifts of Nature they have never learned to weavewool, and to employ it in clothing--that is, in a general sense. Thereare a few exceptions in the empire. The nation is almost entirelydependent upon cotton for clothing, which in winter is padded with acheap wadding to an abnormal thickness. The common people wear nounderclothing whatever. When they sleep they strip to the skin, and wrapthemselves in a single wadded blanket, sleeping the sleep of the tiredpeople their excessive labor makes them. And, although their clothesmight be the height of discomfort, they show their famous indifferenceto comfort by never complaining. These burdensome clothes hang aroundthem like so many bags, with the wide gaps here and there where the windwhistles to the flesh. It is a national characteristic that they areimmune to personal inconveniences, a philosophy which I found to beuniversal, from the highest to the lowest. 

Everybody we met, from the British Consul-General downward, wassurprised to know that my companion and I had no knowledge of theChinese language, and seemed to look lightly upon our chances of evergetting through. 

It was true. Neither my companion nor myself knew three words of thelanguage, but went forward simply believing in the good faith of theChinese people, with our passports alone to protect us. That we shouldencounter difficulties innumerable, that we should be called upon to putup with the greatest hardships of life, when viewed from the standard towhich one had been accustomed, and that we should be put to greatphysical endurance, we could not doubt. But we believed in the Chinese, and believed that should any evil befall us it would be the outcome ofour own lack of forbearance, or of our own direct seeking. We knew thatto the Chinese we should at once be "foreign devils" and "barbarians, "that if not holding us actually in contempt, they would feel somecondescension in dealing and mixing with us; but I was personally of theopinion that it was easier for us to walk through China than it would befor two Chinese, dressed as Chinese, to walk through Great Britain orAmerica. What would the canny Highlander or the rural English rusticthink of two pig-tailed men tramping through his countryside?

We anchored at Ichang at 7:30 a. M. On March 19th. I fell up against aboatman who offered to take us ashore. An uglier fellow I had never seenin the East. The morning sunshine soon dried the decks of the gunboat_Kinsha_ (then stationed in the river for the defense of the port) whichEnglish jack-tars were swabbing in a half-hearted sort of way, and alllooked rosy enough. [B] But for the author, who with his companion was aliteral "babe in the wood, " the day was most eventful and trying toone's personal serenity. We had asked questions of all and sundryrespecting our proposed tramp and the way we should get to work inmaking preparations. Each individual person seemed vigorously to do hisbest to induce us to turn back and follow callings of respectablemembers of society. From Shanghai upwards we might have believedourselves watched by a secret society, which had for its motto, "Return, oh, wanderer, return!" Hardly a person knew aught of the actualconditions of the interior of the country in which he lived and labored, and everyone tried to dissuade us from our project. 

Coming ashore in good spirits, we called at the Consulate, at the backof the city graveyard, and were smoking his cigars and giving his boy anexamination in elementary English, when the Consul came down. It was notpossible, however, for us to get much more information than we had readup, and the Consul suggested that the most likely person to be of use tous would be the missionary at the China Inland Mission. Thither werepaired, following a sturdy employé of Britain, but we found that theC. I. M. Representative was not to be found--despite our repairing. So offwe trotted to the chief business house of the town, at the entrance towhich we were met by a Chinese, who bowed gravely, asked whether we hadeaten our rice, and told us, quietly but pointedly, that our passing upthe rough stone steps would be of no use, as the manager was out. A fewminutes later I stood reading the inscription on the gravestone near thechurch, whilst my brave companion, The Other Man, endeavored fruitlesslyto pacify a fierce dog in the doorway of the Scottish Society'smissionary premises--but that missionary, too, was out!

What, then, was the little game? Were all the foreigners resident inthis town dodging us, afraid of us--or what?

"The latter, the blithering idiots!" yelled The Other Man. He wasinfuriated. "Two Englishmen with English tongues in their heads, andunable to direct their own movements. Preposterous!" And then, making anobservation which I will not print, he suggested mildly that we mightfix up all matters ourselves. 

Within an hour an English-speaking "one piece cook" had secured theberth, which carried a salary of twenty-five dollars per month, we werewell on the way with the engaging of our boat for the Gorges trip, andone by one our troubles vanished. 

Laying in stores, however, was not the lightest of sundry perplexities. Curry and rice had been suggested as the staple diet for the riverjourney; and we ordered, with no thought to the contrary, a picul ofbest rice, various brands of curries, which were raked from behind theshelves of a dingy little store in a back street, and presented to usat alarming prices--enough to last a regiment of soldiers for prettywell the number of days we two were to travel; and, for luxuries, welaid in a few tinned meats. All was practically settled, when The OtherMan, settling his eyes dead upon me, yelled--

"Dingle, you've forgotten the milk!" And then, after a moment, "Oh, well, we can surely do without milk; it's no use coming on a journeylike this unless one can rough it a bit. " And he ended up with a rudereference to the disgusting sticky condensed milk tins, and we wanderedon. 

Suddenly he stopped, did The Other Man. He looked at a small stone onthe pavement for a long time, eventually cruelly blurting out, directlyat me, as if it were all my misdoing: "The sugar, the sugar! We _must_have sugar, man. " I said nothing, with the exception of a slight remarkthat we might do without sugar, as we were to do without milk. There wasa pause. Then, raising his stick in the air, The Other Man perorated:"Now, I have no wish to quarrel" (and he put his nose nearer to mine), "you know that, of course. But to _think_ we can do without sugar isquite unreasonable, and I had no idea you were such a cantankerous man. We have sugar, or--I go back. "

 * * * * *

We had sugar. It was brought on board in upwards of twenty small packetsof that detestable thin Chinese paper, and The Other Man, withcommendable meekness, withdrew several pleasantries he had unwittinglydropped anent deficiencies in my upbringing. Fifty pounds of this sugarwere ordered, and sugar--that dirty, brown sticky stuff--got intoeverything on board--my fingers are sticky even as I write--and no lessthan exactly one-half went down to the bottom of the Yangtze. Travelersby houseboat on the Upper Yangtze should have some knowledge ofcommissariat. 

Getting away was a tedious business. 

Later, the fellows pressed us to spend a good deal of time in the small, dingy, ill-lighted apartment they are pleased to call their club; andthe skipper had to recommission his boat, get in provisions for thevoyage, engage his crew, pay off debts, and attend to a thousand and oneminute details--all to be done after the contract to carry the madcappassengers had been signed and sealed, added to the more practicaltriviality of three-fourths of the charge being paid down. And then ourcaptain, to add to the dilemma, vociferously yelled to us, in someunknown jargon which got on our nerves terribly, that he was waiting fora "lucky" day to raise anchor. 

However, we did, as the reader will be able to imagine, eventually getaway, amid the firing of countless deafening crackers, after havingwatched the sacrifice of a cock to the God of the River, with theinvocation that we might be kept in safety. Poling and rowing through amaze of junks, our little floating caravan, with the two magnates onboard, and their picul of rice, their curry and their sugar, andslenderest outfits, bowled along under plain sail, the fore-deck packedwith a motley team of somewhat dirty and ill-fed trackers, who whistledand halloed the peculiar hallo of the Upper Yangtze for more wind. 

The little township of Ichang was soon left astern, and we enteredspeedily to all intents and purposes into a new world, a worlduntrammelled by conventionalism and the spirit of the West. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A: This was written at the time I was in Hankow. When Irevised my copy, after I had spent a year and a half rubbing along withthe natives in the interior, I could not suppress a smile at myimpressions of a great city like Hankow. Since then I have seen morenative life, and--more native dirt!--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote B: The _Kinsha_ was the first British gunboat on the UpperYangtze. ]

SECOND JOURNEY

ICHANG TO CHUNG-KING, THROUGH THE YANGTZE GORGES

CHAPTER II. 

_Gloom in Ichang Gorge_. _Lightning's effect_. _Travellers' fear_. _Impressive introduction to the Gorges_. _Boat gets into Yangtzefashion_. _Storm and its weird effects_. _Wu-pan: what it is_. _Heavenlyelectricity and its vagaries_. _Beautiful evening scene, despite heavyrain_. _Bedding soaked_. _Sleep in a Burberry_. _Gorges and NiagaraFalls compared_. _Bad descriptions of Yangtze_. _World of eternity_. _Man's significant insignificance_. _Life on board briefly described_. _Philosophy of travel_. _Houseboat life not luxurious_. _Lose our onlywash-basin_. _Remarks on the "boy. " A change in the kitchen:questionable soup_. _Fairly low temperature_. _Troubles in the larder_. _General arrangements on board_. _Crew's sleeping-place_. _Sacking makesa curtain_. _Journalistic labors not easy_. _Rats preponderate_. _Gorgesdescribed statistically_. 

Deeper and deeper drooped the dull grey gloom, like a curtain fallingslowly and impenetrably over all things. 

A vivid but broken flash of lightning, blazing in a flare of blue andamber, poured livid reflections, and illuminated with dreadfuldistinctness, if only for one ghastly moment, the stupendous cliffs ofthe Ichang Gorge, whose wall-like steepness suddenly became darkened asblack as ink. 

Thus, with a grand impressiveness, this great gully in the mountainsassumed hugely gigantic proportions, stretching interminably from eastto west, up to heaven and down to earth, silhouetted to the northagainst a small remaining patch of golden purple, whose weird glamourseemed awesomely to herald the coming of a new world into being, lastingbut for a moment longer, until again the blue blaze quickly cut up thesky into a thousand shreds and tiny silver bars. And then, suddenly, with a vast down swoop, as if some colossal bird were taking the earthunder her far-outstretching wings, dense darkness fell--impenetrable, sooty darkness, that in a moment shut out all light, all power of sight. Then from out the sombre heavens deep thunder boomed ominously as thereverberating roar of a pack of hunger-ridden lions, and the two men, aliens in an alien land, stood beneath the tattered matting awning witha peculiar fear and some foreboding. We were tied in fast to thedarkened sides of the great Ichang Gorge--a magnificent sixteen-milestretch, opening up the famous gorges on the fourth of the great riversof the world, which had cleaved its course through a chain of hills, whose perpendicular cliffs form wonderful rock-bound banks, dispellingall thought of the monotony of the Lower Yangtze. 

Upstream we had glided merrily upon a fresh breeze, which bore thewarning of a storm. All on board was settling down into Yangtze fashion, and the barbaric human clamor of our trackers, which now mutteringlydied away, was suddenly taken up, as above recorded, and allunexpectedly answered by a grander uproar--a deep threatening boom offar-off thunder. In circling tones and semitones of wrath it volleyedgradually through the dark ravines, and, startled by the sound, the twotravelers, roused for the first time from their natural engrossment inthe common doings of the _wu-pan_, [C] saw the reflection of the sun onthe waters, now turned to a livid murkiness, deepening with athreatening ink-like aspect as the river rushed voluminously past ourtiny floating haven. Strangely silenced were we by this weird terror, and watched and listened, chained to the deck by a thousand mingledfears and fascinations, which breathed upon our nerves like a chillwind. As we became accustomed then to the yellow darkness, we beheldabout the landscape a spectral look, and the sepulchral sound of themoving thunder seemed the half-muffled clang of some great iron-tonguedfuneral bell. Then came the rain, introduced swiftly by the deafeningclatter of another thunder crash that made one stagger like a ship in awild sea, and we strained our eyes to gaze into a visionary chasmcleaved in twain by the furious lightning. Playing upon the face of theunruffled river, with a brilliancy at once awful and enchanting, thissingular flitting and wavering of the heavenly electricity, as itflashed haphazardly around all things, threw about one an illuminationquite indescribable. 

For hours we sat upon a beam athwart the afterdeck, in silence drinkingin the strange phenomenon. We watched, after a small feed of curry andrice, long into the dark hours, when the thunder had passed us by, andin the distant booming one could now imagine the lower notes streamingforth from some great solemn organ symphony. The fierce lightningtwitched, as it danced in and out the crevices--inwards, outwards, upwards, then finally lost in one downward swoop towards the river, tearing open the liquid blackness with its crystal blade of fire. Therain ceased not. But soon the moon, peeping out from the tops of ajagged wall above us, looking like a soiled, half-melted snowball, shonefull down the far-stretching gorge, and now its broad lustre sheditself, like powdered silver, over the whole scene, so that one couldhave imagined oneself in the living splendor of some eternal sphere ofethereal sweetness. And so it might have been had the rain abated--acurious accompaniment to a moonlight night. Down it came, straight anddetermined and businesslike, in the windless silence, dancing like ashower of diamonds of purest brilliance on the background of the placidwaters. 

Very beautiful, reader, for a time. But would that the rain had been allmoonshine!

Glorious was it to revel in for a time. But, during the weary nightwatches, in a bed long since soaked through, and one's safestnightclothes now the stolid Burberry, with face protected by atwelve-cent umbrella, even one's curry and rice saturated to sap withthe constant drip, and everything around one rendered cold anduncomfortable enough through a perforation in its slenderest part of theworn-out bamboo matting--ah, it was then, _then_ that one would haveforegone with alacrity the dreams of the nomadic life of the _wu-pan_. 

Our introduction, therefore, to the great Gorges of the UpperYangtze--to China what the Niagara Falls are to America--was notremarkable for its placidity, albeit taken with as much complacency asthe occasion allowed. 

I do not, however, intend to weary or to entertain the reader, as maybe, by a long description of the Yangtze gorges. Time and time againhave they fallen to the imaginative pens of travelers--mostly bad orindifferent descriptions, few good; none better, perhaps, than Mrs. Bishop's. But at best they are imaginative--they lack reality. It hasbeen said that the world of imagination is the world of eternity, and asof eternity, so of the Gorges--they cannot be adequately described. As Iwrite now in the Ichang Gorge, I seem veritably to have reachedeternity. I seem to have arrived at the bosom of an after-life, whereone's body has ceased to vegetate, and where, in an infinite and eternalworld of imagination, one's soul expands with fullest freedom. Thereseems to exist in this eternal world of unending rock and invulnerableprecipice permanent realities which stand from eternity to eternity. Asthe oak dies and leaves its eternal image in the seed which never dies, so these grand river-forced ravines, abused and disabused as may be, goon for ever, despite the scribblers, and one finds the best in hisimagination returning by some back-lane to contemplative thought. But asa casual traveler, may I say that the first experience I had of thegorges made me modest, patient, single-minded, conscious of man'ssignificant insignificance, conscious of the unspeakable, wondrousgrandeur of this unvisited corner of the world--a spot in whichblustering, selfish, self-conceited persons will not fare well? Humilityand patience are the first requisites in traveling on the Upper Yangtze. 

Reader, for your sake I refrain from a description. But may I, forperhaps your sake too, if you would wander hither ere the charm ofthings as they were in the beginning is still unrobbed and unmolested, give you some few impressions of a little of the life--grave, gay, butnever unhappy--which I spent with my excellent co-voyager, The OtherMan. 

It is a part of wisdom, when starting any journey, not to look forwardto the end with too much eagerness: hear my gentle whisper that you maynever get there, and if you do, congratulate yourself; interest yourselfin the progress of the journey, for the present only is yours. Each dayhas its tasks, its rapids, its perils, its glories, its fascinations, its surprises, and--if you will live as we did, its _curry and rice_. Then, if you are traveling with a companion, remember that it is betterto yield a little than to quarrel a great deal. Most disagreeable andundignified is it anywhere to get into the habit of standing up for whatpeople are pleased to call their little rights, but nowhere more so thanon the Upper Yangtze houseboat, under the gaze of a Yangtze crew. Lifeis really too short for continual bickering, and to my way of thinkingit is far quieter, happier, more prudent and productive of more peace, if one could yield a little of those precious little rights than toincessantly squabble to maintain them. Therefore, from the beginning tothe end of the trip, make the best of everything in every way, and I canassure you, if you are not ill-tempered and suffer not from your liver, Nature will open her bosom and lead you by these strange by-ways intoher hidden charms and unadorned recesses of sublime beauty, uneclipsedfor their kind anywhere in the world. 

Think not that the life will be luxurious--houseboat life on the UpperYangtze is decidedly not luxurious. Were it not for the magnificence ofthe scenery and ever-changing outdoor surroundings, as a matter of fact, the long river journey would probably become unbearably dull. 

 * * * * *

Our _wu-pan_ was to get through the Gorges in as short a time as waspossible, and for that reason we traveled in the discomfort of thesmallest boat used to face the rapids. 

People entertaining the smallest idea of doing things travel in nothingshort of a _kwadze_, the orthodox houseboat, with several rooms andordinary conveniences. Ours was a _wu-pan_--literally five boards. Wehad no conveniences whatever, and the second morning out we were leftwithout even a wash-basin. As I was standing in the stern, I saw itswirling away from us, and inquiring through a peep-hole, heard theperplexing explanation of my boy. Gesticulating violently, he told ushow, with the wash-basin in his hand, he had been pushed by one of thecrew, and how, loosened from his grasp, my toilet ware had been grippedby the river--and now appeared far down the stream like a large bead. The Other Man was alarmed at the boy's discomfiture, ejaculatedsomething about the loss being quite irreparable, and with a loud laughand quite natural hilarity proceeded quietly to use a saucepan as acombined shaving-pot and wash-basin. It did quite well for this in themorning, and during the day resumed its duty as seat for me at thetypewriter. 

Our boy, apart from this small misfortune, comported himself prettywell. His English was understandable, and he could cook anything. Hedished us up excellent soup in enamelled cups and, as we had noingredients on board so far as we knew to make soup, and as The OtherMan had that day lost an old Spanish tam-o'-shanter, we naturallyconcluded that he had used the old hat for the making of the soup, andat once christened it as "consommé à la maotsi"--and we can recommendit. After we had grown somewhat tired of the eternal curry and rice, weasked him quietly if he could not make us something else, fearing arebuff. He stood hesitatingly before us, gazing into nothingness. Hisface was pallid, his lips hard set, and his stooping figure lookingcuriously stiff and lifeless on that frozen morning--the temperaturebelow freezing point, and our noses were red, too!

"God bless the man, you no savee! I wantchee good chow. Why in the nameof goodness can't you give us something decent! What on earth did youcome for?"

"Alas!" he shouted, for we were at a rapid, "my savee makee good chow. No have got nothing!"

"No have got nothing! No have got nothing!" Mysterious words, what couldthey mean? Where, then, was our picul of rice, and our curry, and oursugar?

"The fellow's a swindler!" cried The Other Man in an angry semitone. Butthat's all very well. "No have got nothing!" Ah, there lay the secret. Presently The Other Man, head of the general commissariat, spoke againwith touching eloquence. He gave the boy to understand that we werepowerless to alter or soften the conditions of the larder, that we werevictims of a horrible destiny, that we entertained no stinging malicetowards him personally--but . . . _could he do it?_ Either a great wrathor a great sorrow overcame the boy; he skulked past, asked us to liedown on our shelves, where we had our beds, to give him room, and thenset to work. 

In twenty-five minutes we had a three-course meal (all out of the samepot, but no matter), and onwards to our destination we fed royally. Inparting with the men after our safe arrival at Chung-king, we left withthem about seven-eighths of the picul--and were not at all regretful. 

I should not like to assert--because I am telling the truth here--thatour boat was bewilderingly roomy. As a matter of fact, its length wassome forty feet, its width seven feet, its depth much less, and it dreweight inches of water. Yet in it we had our bed-rooms, ourdressing-rooms, our dining-rooms, our library, our occasionalmedicine-room, our cooking-room--and all else. If we stood bolt uprightin the saloon amidships we bumped our heads on the bamboo matting whichformed an arched roof. On the nose of the boat slept seven men--you mayquestion it, reader, but they did; in the stern, on either side of agreat rudder, slept our boy and a friend of his; and between them andus, laid out flat on the top of a cellar (used by the ship's cook forthe storing of rice, cabbage, and other uneatables, and thebreeding-cage of hundreds of rats, which swarm all around one) were thecaptain and commodore--a fat, fresh-complexioned, jocose creature, strenuous at opium smoking. Through the holes in the curtain--a piece ofsacking, but one would not wish this to be known--dividing them from us, we could see him preparing his globules to smoke before turning in forthe night, and despite our frequent raving objections, our words ringingwith vibrating abuse, it continued all the way to Chung-king: hecertainly gazed in disguised wonderment, but we could not get him to sayanything bearing upon the matter. Temperature during the day stood atabout 50 degrees, and at night went down to about 30 degrees abovefreezing point. Rains were frequent. Journalistic labors, seated uponthe upturned saucepan aforesaid, without a cushion, went hard. At nightthe Chinese candle, much wick and little wax, stuck in the center of anempty "Three Castles" tin, which the boy had used for some days as apudding dish, gave us light. We generally slept in our overcoats, and asmany others as we happened to have. Rats crawled over our uncurtainedbodies, and woke us a dozen times each night by either nibbling our earsor falling bodily from the roof on to our faces. Our joys came not tous--they were made on board. 

The following are the Gorges, with a remark or two about each, to bepassed through before one reaches Kweifu:--

 NAME OF GORGE LENGTH REMARKS

 Ichang Gorge 16 miles First and probably one of the finest of the Gorges. 

 Niu Kan Ma Fee 4 miles An hour's journey after (or Ox Liver coming out of the Gorge) Ichang Gorge, if the breeze be favorable; an arduous day's journey during high river, with no wind. 

 Mi Tsang (or Rice 2 miles Finest view is obtained Granary Gorge) from western extremity; exceedingly precipitous. 

 Niu Kou (or Buffalo --- Very quiet in low-water Mouth Reach) season; wild stretch during high river. At the head of this reach H. M. S. _Woodlark_ came to grief on her maiden trip. 

 Urishan Hsia (or --- Over thirty miles in Gloomy Mountain length. Grandest Gorge) and highest gorge _en route to_ Chung-king. Half-way through is the boundary between Hu-peh and Szech'wan. 

 Fang Hsian Hsia --- Last of the gorges; (or Windbox Gorge) just beyond is the city of Kweifu. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote C: A _wu-pan_ (literally _wu_ of five and _pan_ of boards) isa small boat, the smallest used by travelers on the Upper Yangtze. Theyare of various shapes, made according to the nature of the part of theriver on which they ply. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER III. 

THE YANGTZE RAPIDS

The following is a rough list of the principal rapids to be negotiatedon the river upward from Ichang. One of the chief discomforts thetraveler first experiences is due to a total ignorance of the vicinityof the main rapids, and often, therefore, when he is least expecting itperhaps, he is called upon by the _laoban_ to go ashore. He has then topack up the things he values, is dragged ashore himself, his gearfollows, and one who has no knowledge of the language and does not knowthe ropes is, therefore, never quite happy for fear of some rapidturning up. By comparing the rapids with the Gorges the traveler would, however, from the lists given, be able easily to trace the whereaboutsof the more dangerous rushes; which are distributed with alarmingfrequency on the river between Ichang and Kweifu. 

TA TONG T'AN (OTTER CAVE RAPID)

Low water rapid. Swirling volume of coffee and milk color; round about amaze of rapids and races, in the Yao-cha Ho reach. 

TONG LING RAPID

At the foot of the Ox Liver Gorge. An enormous black rock lies amidstream some forty feet below, or perhaps as much above the surface, butunless experienced at low water will not appeal to the traveler as arapid; passage dangerous, dreaded during low-water season. On Dec. 28th, 1900, the German steamer, _Sui-Hsiang_ was lost here. She foundered intwenty-five fathoms of water, with an immense hole ripped in her bottomby the black rock; all on board saved by the red boats, with theexception of the captain. 

HSIN T'AN RAPIDS (OR CHIN T'AN RAPIDS)

During winter quite formidable; the head, second and third rapidssituated in close proximity, the head rapid being far the worst tonegotiate. On a bright winter's day one of the finest spectacles on theUpper Yangtze. Wrecks frequent. Just at head of Ox Liver Gorge. 

YEH T'AN (OR WILD RAPID)

River reduced suddenly to half its width by an enormous detritus ofboulders, taking the form of a huge jagged tongue, with curling onedges; commonly said to be high when the Hsin T'an is low. At its worstduring early summer and autumn. Wrecks frequent, after Mi Tsang Gorge ispassed, eight miles from Kwei-chow. 

NIU K'EO T'AN (BUFFALO MOUTH RAPID)

Situated at the head of Buffalo Mouth Reach, said to be more difficultto approach than even the Yeh T'an, because of the great swirls in thebay below. H. M. S. _Woodlark_ came to grief here on her maiden trip upriver. 

HSIN MA T'AN (OR DISMOUNT HORSE RAPID)

Encountered through the Urishan Hsia or Gloomy Mountain Gorge, particularly nasty during mid-river season. Just about here, in 1906, the French gunboat _Olry_ came within an ace of destruction by losingher rudder. Immediately, like a riderless horse, she dashed off headlongfor the rocky shore; but at the same instant her engines were workingastern for all they were worth, and fortunately succeeded in taking theway off her just as her nose grazed the rocks, and she slid backundamaged into the swirly bay, only to be waltzed round and tossed toand fro by the violent whirlpools. However, by good luck and managementshe was kept from dashing her brains out on the reefs, and eventuallybrought in to a friendly sand patch and safely moored, whilst a woodenjury rudder was rigged, with which she eventually reached herdestination. 

HEH SHÏH T'AN (OR BLACK ROCK RAPID)

Almost at the end of the Wind Box Gorge. 

HSIN LONG T'AN (OR NEW DRAGON RAPID)

Twenty-five miles below Wan Hsien. Sometimes styled Glorious DragonRapid, it constitutes the last formidable stepping-stone during lowriver onward to Chung-king; was formed by a landslip as recently as1896, when the whole side of a hill falling into the stream reduced itsbreadth to less than a fourth of what it was previously, and producedthis roaring rapid. 

This pent-up volume of water, always endeavoring to break away the rockybonds which have harnessed it, rushes roaring as a huge, tongue-shaped, tumbling mass between its confines of rock and reef. Breaking into swiftback-wash and swirls in the bay below, it lashes back in a white fury atits obstacles. Fortunately for the junk traffic, it improves rapidlywith the advent of the early spring freshets, and at mid-level entirelydisappears. The rapid is at its worst during the months of February andMarch, when it certainly merits the appellation of "Glorious DragonRapid, " presenting a fine spectacle, though perhaps a somewhat fearsomeone to the traveler, who is about to tackle it with his frail barque. Ahundred or more wretched-looking trackers, mostly women and children, are tailed on to the three stout bamboo hawsers, and amid a mighty dinof rushing water, beating drums, cries of pilots and boatmen, the boatis hauled slowly and painfully over. According to Chinese myths, thelandslip which produced the rapid was caused by the followingcircumstance. The ova of a dragon being deposited in the bowels of theearth at this particular spot, in due course became hatched out in somemysterious manner. The baby dragon grew and grew, but remained in adormant state until quite full grown, when, as is the habit of thedragon, it became active, and at the first awakening shook down thehill-side by a mighty effort, freed himself from the bowels of theearth, and made his way down river to the sea; hence the landslip, therapid, and its name. 

FUH T'AN RAPID (OR TIGER RAPID)

Eight miles beyond Wan Hsien. Very savage during summer months, but doesnot exist during low-water season. Beyond this point river widensconsiderably. Twenty-five miles further on travelers should look out forShïh Pao Chai, or Precious Stone Castle, a remarkable cliff some 250 or300 feet high. A curious eleven-storied pavilion, built up the face ofthe cliff, contains the stairway to the summit, on which stands aBuddhist temple. There is a legend attached to this remarkable rock thatsavors very much of the goose with the golden eggs. 

Once upon a time, from a small natural aperture near the summit, asupply of rice sufficient for the needs of the priests flowed daily intoa basin-shaped hole, just large enough to hold the day's supply. 

The priests, however, thinking to get a larger daily supply, chiselledout the basin-shaped hole to twice its original size, since when theflow of rice ceased. 

KWAN ÏN T'AN (OR GODDESS OF MERCY RAPID)

Two miles beyond the town of Feng T'ou. Like the Fuh T'an, is anobstacle to navigation only during the summer months, when junks areoften obliged to wait for several days for a favorable opportunity tocross the rapid. 

CHAPTER IV. 

_Scene at the Rapid_. _Dangers of the Yeh T'an_. _Gear taken ashore_. _Intense cold_. _Further preparation_. _Engaging the trackers_. _Feverof excitement_. _Her nose is put to it_. _Struggles for mastery_. _Author saves boatman_. _Fifteen-knot current_. _Terrific labor onshore_. _Man nearly falls overboard_. _Straining hawsers carry us oversafely_. _The merriment among the men_. _The thundering cataract_. _Trackers' chanting_. _Their life_. _"Pioneer" at the Yeh T'an_. _TheBuffalo Mouth Reach_. _Story of the "Woodlark. "_ _How she was saved_. _Arrival at Kweifu_. _Difficulty in landing_. _Laying in provisions_. _Author laid up with malaria_. _Survey of trade in Shanghai andHong-Kong_. _Where and why the Britisher fails_. _Comparison withGermans_. _Three western provinces and pack-horse traffic_. _Advantagesof new railway_. _Yangtze likely to be abandoned_. _East India Company. French and British interests_. _Hint to Hong-Kong Chamber of Commerce. _

Wild shrieking, frantic yelling, exhausted groaning, confusion andclamor, --one long, deafening din. A bewildering, maddening mob ofreckless, terrified human beings rush hither and thither, unseeingly anddistractedly. Will she go? Yes! No! Yes! Then comes the screeching, thescrunching, the straining, and then--a final snap! Back we go, sheeringhelplessly, swayed to and fro most dangerously by the foaming waters, and almost, but not quite, turn turtle. The red boat follows usanxiously, and watches our timid little craft bump against therock-strewn coast. But we are safe, and raise unconsciously a cry ofgratitude to the deity of the river. 

We were at the Yeh T'an, or the Wild Rapid, some distance on from theIchang Gorge, were almost over the growling monster, when the tow-line, straining to its utmost limit, snapped suddenly with little warning, andwe drifted in a moment or two away down to last night's anchorage, farbelow, where we were obliged to bring up the last of the long tier ofboats of which we were this morning the first. 

And now we are ready again to take our turn. 

Our gear is all taken ashore. Seated on a stone on shore, watchingoperations, is The Other Man. The sun vainly tries to get through, andthe intense cold is almost unendurable. No hitch is to occur this time. The toughest and stoutest bamboo hawsers are dexterously brought out, their inboard ends bound in a flash firmly round the mast close down tothe deck, washed by the great waves of the rapid, just in front of the'midships pole through which I breathlessly watch proceedings. I want tofeel again the sensation. The captain, in essentially the Chinese way, is engaging a crew of demon-faced trackers to haul her over. Pouringtowards the boat, in a fever of excitement that rises higher everymoment, the natural elements of hunger and constant struggle against thegreat river swell their fury; they bellow like wild beasts, _they arelike beasts_, for they have known nothing but struggle all their lives;they have always, since they were tiny children, been fighting thisroaring water monster--they know none else. And now, as I say, theybellow like beasts, each man ravenously eager to be among the numberchosen to earn a few cash. [D] The arrangement at last is made, and thediscordant hubbub, instead of lessening, grows more and more deafening. It is a miserable, desperate, wholly panic-stricken crowd that thenharnesses up with their great hooks joined to a rough waist-belt, withwhich they connect themselves to the straining tow-lines. 

And now her nose is put into the teeth of this trough of treachery--averitable boiling cauldron, stirring up all past mysteries. Waves rushfuriously towards us, with the growl of a thousand demons, whose angeris only swelled by the thousands of miles of her course from far-awayTibet. It seems as if they must instantly devour her, and that we mustnow go under to swell the number of their victims. But they only beather back, for she rides gracefully, faltering timidly with frightenedcreaks and groans, whilst the waters shiver her frail bulwarks withtheir cruel message of destruction, which might mean her verydeath-rattle. I get landed in the stomach with the end of a giganticbamboo boat-hook, used by one of the men standing in the bows whose dutyis to fend her off the rocks. He falls towards the river. I grab hissingle garment, give one swift pull, and he comes up again with a jerkylittle laugh and asks if he has hurt me--yelling through his hands in myears, for the noise is terrible. To look out over the side makes megiddy, for the fifteen-knot current, blustering and bubbling and foamingand leaping, gives one the feeling that he is in an express traintearing through the sea. On shore, far ahead, I can see thetrackers--struggling forms of men and women, touching each other, grasping each other, wrestling furiously and mightily, straining on allfours, now gripping a boulder to aid them forward, now to the right, nowto the left, always fighting for one more inch, and engaged in a taskwhich to one seeing it for the first time looks as if it were quitebeyond human effort. Fagged and famished beings are these trackers, whose life day after day, week in week out, is harder than that of theaverage costermonger's donkey. They throw up their hands in a dumbfrenzy of protest and futile appeal to the presiding deity; and here onthe river, depending entirely upon those men on the shore, slowly, inchby inch, the little craft, feeling her own weakness, forges aheadagainst the leaping current in the gapway in the reef. 

None come to offer assistance to our crowd, who are now turned facingus, and strain almost flat on their backs, giving the strength of everydrop of blood and fibre of their being; and the scene, now lit up by amomentary glimmer of feeble sunlight, assumes a wonderful and terriblepicturesqueness. I am chained to the spot by a horrible fascination, andI find myself unconsciously saying, "I fear she will not go. I fear--"But a man has fallen exhausted, he almost fell overboard, and now leansagainst the mast in utter weariness and fatigue, brought on by themorning's exertions. He is instantly relieved by a bull-dog fellow ofenormous strength. Now comes the culminating point, a truly terrifyingmoment, the very anguish of which frightened me, as I looked around forthe lifeboat, and I saw that even the commodore's cold andself-satisfied dignity was disturbed. The hawsers strain again. Creak, crack! creak, crack! The lifeboat watches and comes nearer to us. Thereis a mighty yell. We cannot go! Yes, we can! There is a mighty pull, andyou feel the boat almost torn asunder. Another mighty pull, a tremendousquiver of the timbers, and you turn to see the angry water, which soundsas if a hundred hounds are beating under us for entry at the barreddoor. There is another deafening yell, the men tear away like frightenedhorses. Another mighty pull, and another, and another, and we slide overinto smooth water. 

Then I breathe freely, and yell myself. 

The little boat seems to gasp for breath as a drowning man, saved in thenick of time, shudders in every limb with pain and fear. 

As we tied up in smooth water, all the men, from the _laoban_ to themeanest tracker, laughed and yelled and told each other how it was done. We baled the water out of the boat, and one was glad to pull away fromthe deafening hum of the thundering cataract. A faulty tow-line, aslippery hitch, one false step, one false maneuver, and the shore mighthave been by that time strewn with our corpses. As it was, we were safeand happy. 

But the trackers are strange creatures. At times they are a quarter of amile ahead. Soft echoes of their coarse chanting came down the confinesof the gully, after the rapid had been passed, and in rounding a rockypromontory mid-stream, one would catch sight of them bending theirbodies in pulling steadily against the current of the river. Occasionally one of these poor fellows slips; there is a shriek, hisbody is dashed unmercifully against the jagged cliffs in its lastjourney to the river, which carries the multilated corpse away. And yetthese men, engaged in this terrific toil, with utmost danger to theirlives, live almost exclusively on boiled rice and dirty cabbage, andreceive the merest pittance in money at the journey's end. 

Some idea of the force of this enormous volume of water may be given bymentioning the exploits of the steamer _Pioneer_, which on threeconsecutive occasions attacked the Yeh T'an when at its worst, and, though steaming a good fourteen knots, failed to ascend. She was obligedto lay out a long steel-wire hawser, and heave herself over by means ofher windlass, the engines working at full speed at the same time. Hardand heavy was the heave, gaining foot by foot, with a tension on thehawser almost to breaking strain in a veritable battle against thedragon of the river. Yet so complete are the changes which are wroughtby the great variation in the level of the river, that this formidablemid-level rapid completely disappears at high level. 

After we had left this rapid--and right glad were we to get away--wecame, after a couple of hours' run, to the Niu K'eo, or Buffalo MouthReach, quiet enough during the low-water season, but a wild stretchduring high river, where many a junk is caught by the violently gyratingswirls, rendered unmanageable, and dashed to atoms on some rockypromontory or boulder pile in as short a space of time as it takes towrite it. It was here that the _Woodlark_, one of the magnificentgunboats which patrol the river to safeguard the interests of the UnionJack in this region, came to grief on her maiden trip to Chung-king. Oneof these strong swirls caught the ship's stern, rendering her ruddersuseless for the moment, and causing her to sheer broadside into thefoaming rapid. The engines were immediately reversed to full speedastern; but the swift current, combined with the momentum of the ship, carried her willy-nilly to the rock-bound shore, on which she crumpledher bows as if they were made of tin. Fortunately she was built inwater-tight sections; her engineers removed the forward section, straightened out the crumpled plates, riveted them together, and boltedthe section back into its place again so well, that on arrival atChung-king not a trace of the accident was visible. 

 * * * * *

Upon arrival at Kweifu one bids farewell to the Gorges. This town, formerly a considerable coaling center, overlooks most beautifulhillocks, with cottage gardens cultivated in every accessible corner, and a wide sweep of the river. 

We landed with difficulty. "Chor, chor!" yelled the trackers, who markedtime to their cry, swinging their arms to and fro at each short step;but they almost gave up the ghost. However, we did land, and so did ourboy, who bought excellent provisions and meat, which, alas! too soondisappeared. The mutton and beef gradually grew less and dailyblackened, wrapped up in opposite corners of the cabin, under theprotection from the wet of a couple of sheets of the "Pink 'Un. "

From Kweifu to Wan Hsien there was the same kind of scenery--the clearriver winding among sand-flats and gravel-banks, with occasional stiffrapids. But after having been in a _wu-pan_ for several days, sufferingthat which has been detailed, and much besides, the journey got a bitdreary. These, however, are ordinary circumstances; but when one hasbeen laid up on a bench of a bed for three days with a high temperature, a legacy of several years in the humid tropics, the physical discomfortbaffles description. Malaria, as all sufferers know, has a tendency tocause trouble as soon as one gets into cold weather, and in my case, aswill be seen in subsequent parts of this book, it held faithfully to itsbest traditions. Fever on the Yangtze in a _wu-pan_ would require achapter to itself, not to mention the kindly eccentricities of acompanion whose knowledge of malaria was most elementary and whoseknowledge of nursing absolutely _nil_. But I refrain. As also do I offurther talk about the Yangtze gorges and the rapids. 

From Kweifu to Wan Hsien is a tedious journey. The country opens out, and is more or less monotonously flat. The majority of the dangers anddifficulties, however, are over, and one is able to settle down incomparative peace. Fortunately for the author, nothing untowardhappened, but travelers are warned not to be too sanguine. Wrecks havehappened within a few miles of the destination, generally to beaccounted for by the unhappy knack the Chinese boatman has of taking allprecautions where the dangerous rapids exist, and leaving all to chanceelsewhere. Some two years later, as I was coming down the river fromChung-king in December, I counted no less than nine wrecks, one boathaving on board a cargo for the China Inland Mission authorities of noless than 480 boxes. The contents were spread out on the banks to dry, while the boat was turned upside down and repaired on the spot. 

 * * * * *

A hopeless cry is continually ascending in Hong-Kong and Shanghai thattrade is bad, that the palmy days are gone, and that one might as wellleave business to take care of itself. 

And it is not to be denied that increased trade in the Far East does notof necessity mean increased profits. Competition has rendered buying andselling, if they are to show increased dividends, a much harder taskthan some of the older merchants had when they built up their businessestwenty or thirty years ago. There is no comparison. But Hong-Kong, byvirtue of her remarkably favorable position geographically, shouldalways be able to hold her own; and now that the railway has pierced thegreat province of Yün-nan, and brought the provinces beyond thenavigable Yangtze nearer to the outside world, she should be able toreap a big harvest in Western China, if merchants will move at the righttime. More often than not the Britisher loses his trade, not on accountof the alleged reason that business is not to be done, but because, content with his club life, and with playing games when he should bedoing business, he allows the German to rush past him, and this man, analien in the colony, by persistent plodding and other more or lesscommendable traits of business which I should like to detail, but forwhich I have no space, takes away the trade while the Britisher lookson. 

The whole of the trade of the three western provinces--Yün-nan, Kwei-chow and Szech'wan--has for all time been handled by Shanghai, going into the interior by the extremely hazardous route of theseYangtze rapids, and then over the mountains by coolie or pack-horse. This has gone on for centuries. But now the time has come for theHong-Kong trader to step in and carry away the lion share of the greatlyincreasing foreign trade for those three provinces by means of theadvantage the new Tonkin-Yün-nan Railway has given him. 

The railway runs from Haiphong in Indo-China to Yün-nan-fu, the capitalof Yün-nan province. And it appears certain to the writer that, withsuch an important town three or four days from the coast, shippers willnot be content to continue to ship via the Yangtze, with all its risk. British and American merchants, who carry the greater part of theimports to Western China, will send their goods direct to Hong-Kong, where transhipment will be made to Haiphong, and thence shipped by railto Yün-nan-fu, the distributing center for inland trade. To my mind, Hong-Kong merchants might control the whole of the British trade ofWestern China if they will only push, for although the tariff of Tonkinmay be heavy, it would be compensated by the fact that transit would beso much quicker and safer. But it needs push. 

The history of our intercourse with China, from the days of the EastIndia Company till now, is nothing but a record of a continuous struggleto open up and develop trade. Opening up trade, too, with a people whohave something pathetic in the honest persistency with which theirofficials have vainly struggled to keep themselves uncontaminated fromthe outside world. Trade in China cannot be left to take care of itself, as is done in Western countries. However invidious it may seem, we mustadmit the fact that past progress has been due to pressure. Therefore, if the opportunities were placed near at hand to the Hong-Kong shipper, he would be an unenterprising person indeed were he not to avail himselfof the opportunity. Shanghai has held the trump card formerly. Thiscannot be denied. But I think the railway is destined to turn the traderoute to the other side of the empire. It is merely a question as to whois to get the trade--the French or the British. The French are on thealert. They cannot get territory; now they are after the trade. 

It is my opinion that it would be to the advantage of the colony ofHong-Kong were the Chamber of Commerce there to investigate the matterthoroughly. Now is the time. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote D: _Cash_, a small brass coin with a hole through the middle. Nominally 1, 000 cash to the dollar. ]

THIRD JOURNEY

CHUNG-KING TO SUI-FU (VIA LUCHOW)

CHAPTER V. 

_Beginning of the overland journey_. _The official halo around thecaravan_. _The people's goodbyes_. _Stages to Sui-fu_. _A persistentcoolie_. _My boy's indignation, and the sequel_. _Kindness of the peopleof Chung-king_. _The Chung-king Consulate_. _Need of keeping fit intravelling in China_. _Walking tabooed_. _The question of "face" andwhat it means_. _Author runs the gauntlet_. _Carrying coolie's rate ofpay_. _The so-called great paved highways of China, and a few remarksthereon_. _The garden of China_. _Magnificence of the scenery of WesternChina_. _The tea-shops_. _The Chinese coolie's thirst and how the authordrank_. _Population of Szech-wan_. _Minerals found_. _Salt and otherthings_. _The Chinese inn: how it holds the palm for unmitigated filth_. _Description of the rooms_. _Szech-wan and Yün-nan caravanserais_. _Needof a camp bed_. _Toileting in unsecluded publicity_. _How the author wasmet at market towns_. _How the days do not get dull_. 

In a manner admirably befitting my rank as an English traveler, apartfrom the fact that I was the man who was endeavoring to cross China onfoot, I was led out of Chung-king _en route_ for Bhamo alone, mycompanion having had to leave me here. 

It was Easter Sunday, a crisp spring morning. 

First came a public sedan-chair, bravely borne by three of the finestfellows in all China, at the head of which on either side were twouniformed persons called soldiers--incomprehensible to one who has noknowledge of the interior, for they bore no marks whatever of themilitary--whilst uniformed men also solemnly guarded the back. Thencame the grinning coolies, carrying that meager portion of my worldlygoods which I had anticipated would have been engulfed in the Yangtze. And at the head of all, leading them on as captains do the SalvationArmy, was I myself, walking along triumphantly, undoubtedly looking aperson of weight, but somehow peculiarly unable to get out of my headthat little adage apropos the fact that when the blind shall lead theblind both shall fall into a ditch! But Chinese decorum forbade myfalling behind. I had determined to walk across China, every inch of theway or not at all; and the chair coolies, unaware of my intentionspresumably, thought it a great joke when at the western gate, throughwhich I departed, I gave instructions that one hundred cash be doled outto each man for his graciousness in escorting me through the town. 

All the people were in the middle of the streets--those slippery streetsof interminable steps--to give me at parting their blessings or theircurses, and only with difficulty and considerable shouting and pushingcould I sufficiently take their attention from the array of official andcivil servants who made up my caravan as to effect an exit. 

The following were to be stages:--

 1st day--Ts'eo-ma-k'ang 80 li. 2nd day--Üin-ch'uan hsien 120 " 3rd day--Li-shïh-ch'ang 105 " 4th day--Luchow 75 " 5th day--Lan-ching-ch'ang 80 " 6th day--Lan-chï-hsien 75 " 7th day--Sui-fu 120 "

In my plainest English and with many cruel gestures, four miles from thetown, I told a man that he narrowly escaped being knocked down, owing tohis extremely rude persistence in accosting me and obstructing my way. He acquiesced, opened his large mouth to the widest proportions, seemedthoroughly to understand, but continued more noisily to prevent me fromgoing onwards, yelling something at the top of his husky voice--a voicemore like a fog-horn than a human voice--which made me fear that I haddone something very wrong, but which later I interpreted ignorantly asimpudent humor. 

I owed nothing; so far as I knew, I had done nothing wrong. 

"Hi, fellow! come out of the way! Reverse your carcass a bit, old chap!Get----! What the---- who the----?"

"Oh, master, he wantchee makee much bobbery. He no b'long my pidgin, d---- rogue! He wantchee catch one more hundred cash! He b'long onepiecee chairman!"

This to me from my boy in apologetic explanation. 

Then, turning wildly upon the man, after the manner of his kind raisinghis little fat body to the tips of his toes and effectively assuming theattitude of the stage actor, he cursed loudly to the uttermost ofeternity the impudent fellow's ten thousand relatives and ancestry;which, although it called forth more mutual confidences of a likenature, and made T'ong (my boy) foam at the mouth with rage at such aninopportune proceeding happening so early in his career, rendering itnecessary for him to push the man in the right jaw, incidentally allowedhim to show his master just a little that he could do. The man had beendumped against the wall, but he was still undaunted. With thin muddropping from one leg of his flimsy pantaloons, he came forward again, did this chair coolie, whom I had just paid off--for it was assuredlyone of the trio--leading out again one of those little wiry, shaggyponies, and wished to do another deal. He had, however, struck a snag. We did not come to terms. I merely lifted the quadruped bodily from mypath and walked on. 

Chung-king people treated us well, and had it not been for theirkindness the terrible three days spent still in our _wu-pan_ on thecrowded beach would have been more terrible still. 

At the Consulate we found Mr. Phillips, the Acting-Consul, ready packedup to go down to Shanghai, and Mr. H. E. Sly, whom we had met inShanghai, was due to relieve him. Mr. J. L. Smith, of the ConsularService, was here also, just reaching a state of convalescence after anattack of measles, and was to go to Chen-tu to take up duty as soon ashe was fit. But despite the topsy-turvydom, we were made welcome, andboth Phillips and Smith did their best to entertain. Chung-kingConsulate is probably the finest--certainly one of the finest--in China, built on a commanding site overlooking the river and the city, with thebungalow part over in the hills. It possesses remarkably fine grounds, has every modern convenience, not the least attractive features beingthe cement tennis-court and a small polo ground adjoining. I had hopedto see polo on those little rats of ponies, but it could not bearranged. I should have liked to take a stick as a farewell. 

People were shocked indeed that I was going to walk across China. 

Let me say here that travel in the Middle Kingdom is quite possibleanywhere provided that you are fit. You have merely to learn and tomaintain untold patience, and you are able to get where you like, if youhave got the money to pay your way;[E] but walking is a very differentthing. It is probable that never previously has a traveler actuallywalked across China, if we except the Rev. J. McCarthy, of the ChinaInland Mission, who some thirty years or so ago did walk across toBurma, although he went through Kwei-chow province over a considerablyeasier country. Not because it is by any means physically impossible, but because the custom of the country--and a cursed custom too--is thatone has to keep what is called his "face. " And to walk tends to make aman lose "face. "

A quiet jaunt through China on foot was, I was told, quite out of thequestion; the uneclipsed audacity of a man mentioning it, and especiallya man such as I was, was marvelled at. Did I not know that the foreigner_must_ have a chair? (This was corroborated by my boy, on his oath, because he would have to pay the men. ) Did I not know that no travelerin Western China, who at any rate had any sense of self-respect, wouldtravel without a chair, not necessarily as a conveyance, but for thehonor and glory of the thing? And did I not know that, unfurnished withthis undeniable token of respect, I should be liable to be thrust asideon the highway, to be kept waiting at ferries, to be relegated to theworst inn's worst room, and to be generally treated with indignity? Thisidea of mine of crossing China on foot was preposterous!

Even Mr. Hudson Broomhall, of the China Inland Mission, who with Mrs. Broomhall was extremely kind, and did all he could to fit me up for thejourney (it is such remembrances that make the trip one which I wouldnot mind doing again), was surprised to know that I was walking, andtried to persuade me to take a chair. But I flew in the face of it all. These good people certainly impressed me, but I decided to run thegauntlet and take the risk. 

The question of "face" is always merely one of theory, never of fact, and the principles that govern "face" and its attainment were whollybeyond my apprehension. "I shall probably be more concerned in saving mylife than in saving my face, " I thought. 

Therefore it was that when I reached a place called Fu-to-gwan Idiscarded all superfluities of dress, and strode forward, just at thattime in the early morning when the sun was gilding the dewdrops on thehedgerows with a grandeur which breathed encouragement to the traveler, in a flannel shirt and flannel pants--a terrible breach of foreignetiquette, no doubt, but very comfortable to one who was facing thefirst eighty li he had ever walked on China's soil. My threecoolies--the typical Chinese coolie of Szech'wan, but very good fellowswith all their faults--were to land me at Sui-fu, 230 miles distant(some 650 li), in seven days' time. They were to receive four hundredcash per man per day, were to find themselves, and if I reached Sui-fuwithin the specified time I agreed to _kumshaw_ them to the extent of anextra thousand. [F] They carried, according to the arrangement, ninetycatties apiece, and their rate of pay I did not consider excessive untilI found that each man sublet his contract for a fourth of his pay, andtrotted along light-heartedly and merry at my side; then I regrettedthat I had not thought twice before closing with them. 

It is probable that the solidity of the great paved highways of Chinahave been exaggerated. I have not been on the North China highways, buthave had considerable experience of them in Western China, Szech'wan andYün-nan particularly, and have very little praise to lavish upon them. Certain it is that the road to Sui-fu does not deserve the nice thingssaid about it by various travelers. The whole route from Chung-king toSui-fu, paved with flagstones varying in width from three to six orseven feet--the only main road, of course--is creditably regular in someplaces, whilst other portions, especially over the mountains, areextremely bad and uneven. In some places, I could hardly get along atall, and my boy would call out as he came along in his chair behind me--

"Master, I thinkee you makee catch two piecee men makee carry. Thisb'long no proper road. P'raps you makee bad feet come. "

And truly my feet were shamefully blistered. 

One had to step from stone to stone with considerable agility. In placesbridges had fallen in, nobody had attempted to put them into a decentstate of repair--though this is never done in China--and one of thefeatures of every day was the wonderful fashion in which the mountainponies picked their way over the broken route; they are as sure-footedas goats. 

As I gazed admiringly along the miles and miles of ripening wheat andgolden rape, pink-flowering beans, interspersed everywhere with theinevitable poppy, swaying gently as in a sea of all the dainty colors ofthe rainbow, I did not wonder that Szech'wan had been called the Gardenof China. Greater or denser cultivation I had never seen. Theamphitheater-like hills smiled joyously in the first gentle touches ofspring and enriching green, each terrace being irrigated from the onebelow by a small stream of water regulated in the most primitive manner(the windlass driven by man power), and not a square inch lost. Even themud banks dividing these fertile areas are made to yield on the sidescabbages and lettuces and on the tops wheat and poppy. There are nofences. You see before you a forest of mountains, made a dark leadencolor by thick mists, from out of which gradually come the never-endingpictures of green and purple and brown and yellow and gold, which rollhither and thither under a cloudy sky in indescribable confusion. Thechain may commence in the south or the north in two or three soft, slow-rising undulations, which trend away from you and form a vaporybackground to the landscape. From these (I see such a picture even as Iwrite, seated on the stone steps in the middle of a mountain path), atonce united and peculiarly distinct, rise five masses with ruggedcrests, rough, and cut into shady hollows on the sides, a faint paleaureola from the sun on the mists rising over the summits and sharpoutlines. Looking to the north, an immense curved line shows itself, growing ever greater, opening like the arch of a gigantic bridge, andbinding this first group to a second, more complicated, each peak ofwhich has a form of its own, and does in some sort as it pleases withouttroubling itself about its neighbor. The most remarkable point aboutthese mountains is the life they seem to possess. It is an incredibleconfusion. Angles are thrown fantastically by some mad geometer, itwould seem. Splendid banyan trees shelter one after toiling up theunending steps, and dotted over the landscape, indiscriminately inmagnificent picturesqueness, are pretty farmhouses nestling almost outof sight in groves of sacred trees. Oftentimes perpendicular mountainsstand sheer up for three thousand feet or more, their sides to the verysummits ablaze with color coming from the smiling face of sunny Nature, in spots at times where only a twelve-inch cultivation is possible. 

A dome raises its head curiously over the leaning shoulder of a roundhill, and a pyramid reverses itself, as if to the music of some wildorchestra, whose symphonies are heard in the mountain winds. Seen nearerand in detail, these mountains are all in delicious keeping with all ofwhat the imagination in love with the fantastic, attracted by their moredistant forms, could dream. Valleys, gorges, somber gaps, walls cutperpendicularly, rough or polished by water, cavities festooned withhanging stalactites and notched like Gothic sculptures--all make up astrange sight which cannot but excite admiration. 

Every mile or so there are tea-houses, and for a couple of cash a cooliecan get a cup of tea, with leaves sufficient to make a dozen cups, andas much boiling water as he wants. Szech'wan, the country, its people, their ways and methods, and much information thereto appertaining, isalready in print. It were useless to give more of it here--and, reader, you will thank me! But the thirst of Szech'wan--that thirst which isunique in the whole of the Empire, and eclipsed nowhere on the face ofthe earth, except perhaps on the Sahara--one does not hear about. 

Many an Englishman would give much for the Chinese coolie's thirst--sovery, very much. 

I wonder whether you, reader, were ever thirsty? Probably not. You get athirst which is not insatiable. Yours is born of nothing extraordinary;yours can be satisfied by a gulp or two of water, or perhaps by adrink--or perhaps two, or perhaps three--of something stronger. TheChinese coolie's thirst arises from the grilling sun, from a dancingglare, from hard hauling, struggling with 120 pounds slung over hisshoulders, dangling at the end of a bamboo pole. I have had this thirstof the Chinese coolie--I know it well. It is born of sheer heat andsheer perspiration. Every drop of liquid has been wrung out of my body;I have seemed to have swum in my clothes, and inside my muscles haveseemed to shrink to dry sponge and my bones to dry pith. My substance, my strength, my self has drained out of me. I have been conscious ofperpetual evaporation and liquefaction. And I have felt that I must stopand wet myself again. I really _must_ wet myself and swell to lifeagain. And here we sit at the tea-shop. People come and stare at me, andwonder what it is. They, too, are thirsty, for they are all coolies andhave the coolie thirst. 

I wet myself. I pour in cup after cup, and my body, my self sucks it in, draws it in as if it were the water of life. Instantly it gushes outagain at every pore. I swill in more, and out it rushes again, madlyrushes out as quickly as it can. I swill in more and more, and out itcomes defiantly. I can keep none inside me. Useless--I _cannot_ quenchmy thirst. At last the thirst thinks its conquest assured, taking thehot tea for a signal of surrender; but I pour in more, and graduallyfeel the tea settling within me. I am a degree less torrid, a shade moresubstantial. 

And then here comes my boy. 

"Master, you wantchee makee one drink brandy-and-soda. No can catcheesoda this side--have got water. Can do?"

Ah! shall I? Shall I? No! I throw it away from me, fling a bottle ofcheap brandy which he had bought for me at Chung-king away from me, andthe boy looks forlorn. 

Tea is the best of all drinks in China; for the traveler unquestionablythe best. Good in the morning, good at midday, good in the evening, goodat night, even after the day's toil has been forgotten. To-morrow Ishall have more walking, more thirsting, more tea. China tea, thou art agodsend to the wayfarer in that great land!

I endeavored to get the details of the population of the province ofSzech'wan, the variability of the reports providing an excellentillustration of the uncertainty impending over everything statistical inChina--estimates ranged from thirty-five to eighty millions. 

The surface of this province is made up of masses of rugged mountains, through which the Yangtze has cut its deep and narrow channel. The areais everywhere intersected by steep-sided valleys and ravines. Theworld-famed plain of Chen-tu, the capital, is the only plain of anysize in the province, the system of irrigation employed on it being oneof the wonders of the world. Every food crop flourishes in Szech'wan, aninexhaustible supply of products of the Chinese pharmacopoeia enrich thestores and destroy the stomachs of the well-to-do; and with theexception of cotton, all that grows in Eastern China grows better inthis great Garden of the Empire. Its area is about that of France, itsclimate is even superior--a land delightfully _accidentée_. Among theminerals found are gold, silver, cinnabar, copper, iron, coal andpetroleum; the chief products being opium, white wax, hemp, yellow silk. Szech'wan is a province rich in salt, obtained from artesian borings, some of which extend 2, 500 feet below the surface, and from which forcenturies the brine has been laboriously raised by antiquated windlassand water buffalo. 

The best conditions of Chinese inns are far and away worse than anythingthe traveler would be called upon to encounter anywhere in the BritishIsles, even in the most isolated places in rural Ireland. There can beno comparison. And my reader will understand that there is much whichthe European misses in the way of general physical comfort andcleanliness. Sanitation is absent _in toto_. Ordinary decency forbidsone putting into print what the uninitiated traveler most desires toknow--if he would be saved a severe shock at the outset; but everyonehas to go through it, because one cannot write what one sees. Alltravelers who have had to put up at the caravanseries in Central andWestern China will bear me out in my assertion that all of them reekwith filth and are overrun by vermin of every description. The travelerwhom misfortune has led to travel off the main roads of Russia mayprobably hesitate in expressing an opinion as to which country carriesoff the palm for unmitigated filth; but, with this exception, travelersin the Eastern Archipelago, in Central Asia, in Africa among the wildesttribes, are pretty well unanimous that compared with all these for dirt, disease, discomfort, an utter lack of decency and annoyance, the Chineseinn holds its own. And in no part of China more than in Szech'wan andYün-nan is greater discomfort experienced. 

The usual wooden bedstead stands in the corner of the room with thestraw bedding (this, by the way, should on no account be removed if onewishes to sleep in peace), sometimes there is a table, sometimes acouple of chairs. If these are steady it is lucky, if unbroken it is theexception; there are never more. Over the bedstead (more often than not, by the way, it is composed of four planks of varying lengths andthickness, placed across two trestles) I used first to place my oilskin, then my _p'u-k'ai_, and that little creeper which rhymes with hug didnot disturb me much. Rats ran round and over me in profusion, and, ofcourse, the best room being invariably nearest to the pigsties, therewere the usual stenches. The floor was Mother Earth, which in wetweather became mud, and quite a common thing it was for my joys to beenhanced during a heavy shower of rain by my having to sleep, almostsuffocated, mackintosh over my head, owing to a slight break in thecontinuity of the roof--my umbrella being unavailable, as one of my mendropped it over a precipice two days out. For many reasons a camp-bed isto Europeans an indispensable part of even the most modest travelingequipment. I was many times sorry that I had none with me. 

The inns of Szech'wan, however, are by many degrees better than those ofYün-nan, which are sometimes indescribable. Earthen floors are saturatedwith damp filth and smelling decay; there are rarely the paper windows, but merely a sort of opening of woodwork, through which the offensivesmells of decaying garbage and human filth waft in almost to choke one;tables collapse under the weight of one's dinner; walls are always indecay and hang inwards threateningly; wicked insects, which crawl andjump and bite, creep over the side of one's rice bowl--and much else. Who can describe it? It makes one ill to think of it. 

Throughout my journeyings it was necessary for my toileting, in fact, everything, to be performed in absolute unalloyed publicity. Three daysout my boy fixed up a cold bath for me, and barricaded a room which hada certain amount of privacy about it, owing to its secluded position;but even grown men and women, anxious to see what _it_ was like when ithad no clothes on, came forward, poked their fingers through the paperin the windows (of course, glass is hardly known in the interior), andgreedily peeped in. This and the profound curiosity the people evince inone's every action and movement I found most trying. 

It was my misfortune each day at this stage to come into a town orvillage where market was in progress. Catching a sight of the foreignvisage, people opened their eyes widely, turned from me, faced me againwith a little less of fear, and then came to me, not in dozens, but inhundreds, with open arms. They shouted and made signs, and walkingexcitedly by my side, they examined at will the texture of my clothes, and touched my boots with sticks to see whether the feet were encased ornot. For the time I was their hero. When I walked into an inn businessbrightened immediately. Tea was at a premium, and only the richer classcould afford nine cash instead of three to drink tea with the bewilderedforeigner. The most inquisitive came behind me, rubbing their unshavenpates against the side of my head in enterprising endeavor to seethrough the sides of my spectacles. They would speak to me, yelling intheir coarsest tones thinking my hearing was defective. I would motionthen to go away, always politely, cleverly suppressing my sense ofindignation at their conduct; and they would do so, only to make roomfor a worse crowd. The town's business stopped; people left their stallsand shops to glare aimlessly at or to ask inane and unintelligiblequestions about the barbarian who seemed to have dropped suddenly fromthe heavens. When I addressed a few words to them in strongestAnglo-Saxon, telling them in the name of all they held sacred to go awayand leave me in peace, something like a cheer would go up, and my boywould swear them all down in his choicest. When I slowly rose to movethe crowd looked disappointed, but allowed me to go forward on myjourney in peace. 

 * * * * *

Thus the days passed, and things were never dull. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote E: This refers to the main roads There are many places inisolated and unsurveyed districts where it is extremely difficult andoften impossible to get along at all--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote F: This rate of four hundred cash per day per man wasmaintained right up to Tong-ch'uan-fu, although after Chao-t'ong theusual rate paid is a little higher, and the bad cash in that districtmade it difficult for my men to arrange four hundred "big" cash currentin Szech'wan in the Yün-nan equivalent. After Tong-ch'uan-fu, right onto Burma, the rate of coolie pay varies considerably. Three tsien twofen (thirty-two tael cents) was the highest I paid until I got toTengyueh, where rupee money came into circulation, and where expense ofliving was considerably higher. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER VI. 

_Szech-wan people a mercenary lot_. _Adaptability to trading_. _None butnature lovers should come to Western China_. _The life of the Nomad_. _The opening of China, and some impressions_. _China's position in theeyes of her own people_. _Industrialism, railways, and the attitude ofthe populace_. _Introduction of foreign machinery_. _Different opinionsformed in different provinces_. _Climate, and what it is responsiblefor_. _Recent Governor of Szech-wan's tribute to Christianity_. _NewChina and the new student_. _Revolutionary element in Yün-nan_. _Need ofa new life, and how China is to get it_. _Luchow, and a little aboutit_. _Fusong from the military_. _Necessity of the sedan-chair_. _Costof lodging_. _An impudent woman_. _Choice pidgin-English_. _Some of theannoyances of travel_. _Canadian and China Inland missionaries_. _Exchange of yarns_. _Exasperating Chinese life, and its effects onEuropeans_. _Men refuse to walk to Sui-fu. Experiences in arrangingup-river trip_. _Unmeaning etiquette of Chinese officials towardforeigners_. _Rude awakening in the morning_. _A trying early-morningordeal_. _Reckonings do not tally_. _An eventful day_. _At the ChinaInland Mission_. _Impressions of Sui-fu. Fictitious partnerships_. 

The people of Szech'wan, compared with other Yangtze provinces, must becalled a mercenary, if a go-ahead, one. 

Balancing myself on a three-inch form in a tea-shop at a small townmidway between Li-shïh-ch'ang and Luchow, I am endeavoring to take inthe scene around me. The people are so numerous in this province thatthey must struggle in order to live. Vain is it for the most energeticamong them to escape from the shadow of necessity and hunger; all aresimilarly begirt, so they settle down to devote all their energies totrade. And trade they do, in very earnest. 

Everything is labeled, from the earth to the inhabitants; theseprimitives, these blissfully "heathen" people, have become the mostconsummate of sharpers. I walk up to buy something of the value of onlya few cash, and on all sides are nets and traps, like spider-webs, andthe fly that these gentry would catch, as they see me stalk aroundinspecting their wares, is myself. They seem to lie in wait for one, andfor an article for which a coolie would pay a few cash as many dollarsare demanded of the foreigner. My boy stands by, however, magnificentlyproud of his lucrative and important post, yelling precautions to thecurious populace to stand away. He hints, he does not declare outright, but by ungentle innuendo allows them to understand that, whatever theirprivate characters may be, to him they are all liars and rogues andthieves. It is all so funny, that one's fatigue is minimized to the lastdegree by the humor one gets and the novel changes one meets everywhere. 

Onward again, my men singing, perhaps quarreling, always swearing. Theirlanguage is low and coarse and vulgar, but happily ignorant am I. 

The country, too, is fascinating in the extreme. A man must not come toChina for pleasure unless he love his mistress Nature when she is mostrudely clad. Some of her lovers are fascinated most in by-places, in thecool of forests, on the summit of lofty mountains, high up from themundane, in the cleft of cañons, everywhere that the careless lover isnot admitted to her contemplation. It is for such that China holds outan inviting hand, but she offers little else to the Westerner--thestudent of Nature and of man can alone be happy in the interior. Forgetting time and the life of my own world, I sometimes come toinviolate stillnesses, where Nature opens her arms and bewitchinglypromises embraces in soft, unending, undulating vastnesses, where eventhe watching of a bird building its nest or brooding over its young, orsome little groundling at its gracious play, seems to hold one charmedbeyond description. It is, some may say, a nomadic life. Yes, it is anomadic life. But how beautiful to those of us, and there are many, wholove less the man-made comforts of our own small life than theentrancing wonders of the God-made world in spots where nothing haschanged. Gladly did I quit the dust and din of Western life, theartificialities of dress, and the unnumbered futile affectations of ourown maybe not misnamed civilization, to go and breathe freely andpeacefully in those far-off nooks of the silent mountain-tops wheresolitude was broken only by the lulling or the roaring of the winds ofheaven. Thank God there are these uninvaded corners. The realm ofsilence is, after all, vaster than the realm of noise, and the factbrought a consolation, as one watched Nature effecting a sort ofcoquetry in masking her operations. 

And as I look upon it all I wonder--wonder whether with the "Opening ofChina" this must all change?

The Chinese--I refer to the Chinese of interior provinces such asSzech-wan--are realizing that they hold an obscure position. I haveheard educated Chinese remark that they look upon themselves as lost, like shipwrecked sailors, whom a night of tempest has cast on somelonely rock; and now they are having recourse to cries, volleys, all thesignals imaginable, to let it be known that they are still there. Theyhave been on this lonely isolated rock as far as history can trace. Nowthey are launching out towards progress, towards the making of things, towards the buying and selling of things--launching out in trade and incommerce, in politics, in literature, in science, in all that has speltadvance in the West. The modern spirit is spreading speedily into thedomains of life everywhere--in places swiftly, in places slowly, butspreading inevitably, _si sit prudentia_. 

Nothing will tend, in this particular part of the country, to turn itupside down and inside out more than the cult of industrialism. In anumber of centers in Eastern China, such as Han-yang and Shanghai, foreign mills, iron works, and so on, furnish new employments, but inthe interior the machine of the West to the uneducated Celestial seemsto be the foe of his own tools; and when railways and steam craftappear--steam has appeared, of course, on the Upper Yangtze, although ithas not yet taken much of the junk trade, and Szech'wan has her railwaysnow under construction (the sod was cut at Ichang in 1909)[G]--and asingle train and steamer does the work of hundreds of thousands ofcarters, coolies, and boatmen, it is wholly natural that their imperfectand short-sighted views should lead them to rise against a seeming newperil. 

Whilst in the end the Empire will profit greatly by the inventions ofthe Occident, the period of transition in Szech'wan, especially ifmachines are introduced too rapidly and unwisely, is one that willdisturb the peace. It will be interesting to watch the attitude of thepeople towards the railway, for Szech'wan is essentially the province ofthe farmer. Szech'wan was one of the provinces where concessions weredemanded, and railways had been planned by European syndicates, andwhere the gentry and students held mass meetings, feverishly declaringthat none shall build Chinese lines but the people themselves. I have nospace in a work of this nature to go fully into the question ofindustrialism, railways, and other matters immediately vital to theinterests of China, but if the peace of China is to be maintained, itis incumbent upon every foreigner to "go slowly. " Machines of foreignmake have before now been scrapped, railways have been pulled up andthrown into the sea, telegraph lines have been torn down and sold, andon every hand among this wonderful people there has always been apparenta distinct hatred to things and ideas foreign. But industriallyparticularly the benefits of the West are being recognized in EasternChina, and gradually, if foreigners who have to do the pioneering aretactful, trust in the foreign-manufactured machine will spread toWestern China, and enlarged industrialism will bring all-roundadvantages to Western trade. 

Thus far there has been little shifting of the population from hamletsand villages to centers of new industries--even in the more forwardareas quoted--but when this process begins new elements will enter intothe Chinese industrial problem. 

As we hear of the New China, so is there a "new people, " a peopleemboldened by the examples of officials in certain areas to show afriendliness towards progress and innovation. They were not friendly adecade ago. It may, perhaps, be said that this "new people" were bornafter the Boxer troubles, and in Szech'wan they have a large influence. 

Cotton mills, silk filatures, flour and rice mills employing westernmachinery, modern mining plants and other evidences of how China iscoming out of her shell, cause one to rejoice in improved conditions. The animosity occasioned by these inventions that are being so graduallyand so surely introduced into every nook and cranny of East and NorthChina is very marked; but on close inspection, and after one has made astudy of the subject, one is inclined to feel that it is more or lesstheoretical. So it is to be hoped it will be in Szech'wan and FarWestern China. 

Readers may wonder at the differences of opinions expressed in thecourse of these pages--a hundred pages on one may get a totallydifferent impression. But the absolute differences of conditionsexisting are quite as remarkable. From Chung-king to Sui-fu one breathedan air of progress--after one had made allowance for the antagonisticcircumstances under which China lives--a manifest desire on every handfor things foreign, and a most lively and intelligent interest in whatthe foreigner could bring. In many parts of Yün-nan, again, conditionswere completely reversed; and one finding himself in Yün-nan, afterhaving lived for some time at a port in the east of the Empire, wouldassuredly find himself surrounded by everything antagonistic to that towhich he has become accustomed, and the people would seem of a differentrace. This may be due to the differences of climate--climate, indeed, isultimately the first and the last word in the East; it is the arbiter, the builder, the disintegrator of everything. A leading writer onEastern affairs says that the "climate is the explanation of all thishistory of Asia, and the peoples of the East can only be understood andaccounted for by the measuring of the heat of the sun's rays. In China, with climate and weather charts in your hands, you may travel from theRed River on the Yün-nan frontier to the great Sungari in lustyManchuria, and be able to understand and account for everything. "

However that may be, traveling in China, through a wonderful provincelike Szech'wan, whose chief entrepôt is fifteen hundred miles from thecoast, convinces one that she has come to the parting of the ways. Youcan, in any city or village in Szech'wan--or in Yün-nan, for thatmatter, in a lesser degree--always find the new nationalism in the formof the "New China" student. Despite the opposition he gets from the oldschool, and although the old order of things, by being so strong asalmost to overwhelm him, allows him to make less progress than hewould, this new student, the hope of the Empire, is there. I do not wishto enter into a controversy on this subject, but I should like to quotethe following from a speech delivered by Tseh Ch'un Hsüan, when he wasleaving his post as Governor of Szech'wan:--

"The officials of China are gradually acquiring a knowledge of the greatprinciples of the religions of Europe and America. And the churches arealso laboring night and day to readjust their methods, and to make knowntheir aims in their propagation of religion. Consequently, Chinese andforeigners are coming more and more into cordial relations. This fillsme with joy and hopefulness. . . . My hope is that the teachers of bothcountries [Great Britain and America] will spread the Gospel more wiselythan ever, that hatred may be banished, and disputes dispelled, and thatthe influence of the Gospel may create boundless happiness for my peopleof China. And I shall not be the only one to thank you for coming to thefront in this good work. . . . May the Gospel prosper!"

There are various grades of people in China, among which the scholar hasalways come first, because mind is superior to wealth, and it is theintellect that distinguishes man above the lower order of beings, andenables him to provide food and raiment and shelter for himself and forothers. At the time when Europe was thrilled and cut to the quick withnews of the massacres of her compatriots in the Boxer revolts, thescholar was a dull, stupid fellow--day in day out, week in week out, month in month out, and year after year he ground at his classics. Hisclassics were the _Alpha_ and _Omega_; he worshipped them. This era hasnow passed away. 

At the present moment there are upwards of twenty thousand Chinesestudents in Tokyo[H]--whither they went because Japan is the mostconvenient country wherein to acquire Western knowledge. The newlearning, the new learning--they _must_ have the new learning! No highoffice is ever again likely to be given but to him who has more ofWestern knowledge than Chinese knowledge. And mere striplings, nursed inthe lap of the mission schools, and there given a good grounding inWestern education, these are the men far more likely to pass the newexaminations. In Yün-nan, where little chance exists for the scholars toadvance, the new learning has brought with it a revolutionary element, which would soon become dangerous were it by any means common. I haveseen an English-speaking fellow, anxious to get on and under theimpression that the laws of his country were responsible for keeping himback, write in the back of his exercise book a phrase against theimperial ruler that would have cost him his head had it come to thenotice of the high authorities. 

One will learn much if he travels across the Empire--facts and figuresquite irreconcilable will arise, but even the man of dullest perceptionwill be convinced that much of the reforming spirit in the people isonly skin-deep, going no farther than the externals of life. It is atpresent, perhaps, merely a mad fermentation in the western provinces, wherefrom the fiercer it is the clearer the product will one day evolveitself. Such transitions are full of bewilderment to theEuropean--bewildering to any writer who endeavors to tackle the Empireas a whole. Each province or couple of provinces should be dealt withseparately, so diverse are the conditions. 

But if China, from the highest to the lowest, will only embrace truthand love her for her own sake, so that she will not abate one jot ofallegiance to her; if China will let truth run down through thearteries of everyday commercial, social, and political life as do thewaterways through her marvelous country; if China will kill herretardative conservatism, and in its place erect honesty and conscience;if China will let her moral life be quickened--then her transitionperiod, from end to end of the Empire, will soon end. Mineral, agricultural, industrial wealth are hers to a degree which is not trueof any other land. Her people have an enduring and expansive power thathas stood the test of more than four thousand years of honorablehistory, and their activity and efficiency outside China make them moreto be dreaded, as competitors, than any race or any dozen races ofto-day. 

But New China must have this new life. 

Commerce, science, diplomacy, culture, civilization she will have inever-increasing measure just in so much as she draws nearer to westernpeoples. But the new life can come from whence? From within or fromwithout?

Luchow, into which I was led just before noon on the fourth day out ofChung-king, is the most populous and richest city on the Upper Yangtze. 

Exceedingly clean for a Chinese city, possessing well-kept streets linedwith well-stocked emporiums, bearing every evidence of commercialprosperity, it however lacks one thing. It has no hotel runners! Iarrived at midday, crossing the river in a leaky ferry boat, under ablazing sun, my intention being to stop in the town at a tea-house totake a refresher, and then complete a long day's march, farther than theordinary stage. But owing to some misunderstanding between the_fu-song_, sent to shadow the foreigner on part of his journey, and myboy, I was led through the busy city out into the open country before Ihad had a drink. And when I remonstrated they led me back again to thebest inn, where I was told I should have to spend the night--there beingnothing else, then, to be said. 

May I give a word of advice here to any reader contemplating a visit toChina under similar conditions? It is the custom of the mandarins tosend what is called a _fu-song_ (escort) for you; the escort comes fromthe military, although their peculiar appearance may lead you to doubtit. I have two of these soldier people with me to-day, and two biggerragamuffins it has not been my lot to cast eyes on. They are the onlytwo men in the crowd I am afraid of. They are of absolutely no use, morethan to eat and to drink, and always come up smiling at the end of theirstage for their _kumshaw_. During the whole of this day I have not seenone of them--they have been behind the caravan all the time; it would behard to believe that they had sense enough to find the way, and as forescorting me, they have not accompanied me a single li of the way. [I]

Another nuisance, of which I have already spoken, is the necessity oftaking a chair to maintain respectability. These things make travel inChina not so cheap as one would be led to imagine. Traveling of itselfis cheap enough, as cheap as in any country in the world. Foraccommodation for myself, for a room, rice and as much hot water as Iwant, the charge is a couple of hundred cash--certainly not expensive. In addition, there is generally a little "cha tsien" (tea money) for thecook. But it is the "face" which makes away with money, much more thanit takes to keep you in the luxury that the country can offer--which isnot much!

After I had had a bit of a discussion with my boy as to the room theywanted to house me in, a woman, brandishing a huge cabbage stump aboveher head, and looking menacingly at me, yelled that the room was goodenough. 

"What does she say, T'ong?"

"Oh, she b'long all same fool. She wantchee makee talkee talk. She havegot velly long tongue, makee bad woman. She say one piecee Japan manmakee stay here t'ree night. See? She say what makee good one pieceeJapan man makee good one piecee English man. See? No have got topside, all same bottomside have got. Master, this no b'long my pidgin--thisb'long woman pidgin, and woman b'long all same fool. " T'ong ended upwith an amusing allusion to the lady's mother, and looked cross becauseI rebuked him. 

Gathering, then, that the lady thought her room good enough for me, Isaw no other course open, and as the crowd was gathering, I got inside. Before setting out to call upon the Canadian missionaries stationed atthe place, I held a long conversation with a hump-backed old man, anunsightly mass of disease, who seemed to be a traditional link ofLuchow. I might say that this scholastic old wag spoke nothing butChinese, and I, as the reader knows, spoke no Chinese, so that theamount of general knowledge derived one from the other was thereforelimited. But he would not go, despite the frequent deprecations of T'ongand my coolies, and my vehement rhetoric in explanation that hispresence was distasteful to me, and at the end of the episode I found itimperative for my own safety, and perhaps his, to clear out. 

 * * * * *

The Canadians I found in their Chinese-built premises, comfortablealbeit. Five of them were resident at the time, and they were quitepleased with the work they had done during the last year or so--most ofthem were new to China. At the China Inland Mission later I found twoyoung Scotsmen getting some exercise by throwing a cricket ball at astone wall, in a compound about twenty feet square. They were glad tosee me, one of them kindly gave me a hair-cut, and at their invitation Istayed the night with them. 

What is it in the nature of the Chinese which makes them appear to be sototally oblivious to the best they see in their own country?

It is surely not because they are not as sensitive as other races to themagic of beauty in either nature or art. But I found traveling andliving with such apparently unsympathetic creatures exasperating to adegree, and I did not wonder that the European whose lot had been castin the interior, sometimes, on emerging into Western civilization, appears eccentric to his own countrymen. But this in passing. 

I duly arrived at Lan-chï-hsien, and was told that Sui-fu, 120 li away, would be reached the next day, although I had my doubts. A deputationfrom the local "gwan" waited upon me to learn my wishes and to receivemy commands. I was assured that no European ever walked to Sui-fu fromLan-chï-hsien, and that if I attempted to do such a thing I should haveto go alone, and that I should never reach there. I remonstrated, but myboy was firm. He took me to him and fathered me. He almost cried overme, to think that I, that I, his master, of all people in the world, should doubt his allegiance to me. "I no 'fraid, " he declared. "P'lapsmaster no savee. Sui-fu b'long velly big place, have got plentyEuropean. You wantchee makee go fast, catchee plenty good 'chow. ' Ithink you catchee one piecee boat, makee go up the river. P'laps I thinkyou have got velly tired--no wantchee makee more walkee--that no b'longploper. That b'long all same fool pidgin. "

And at last I melted. There was nothing else to do. 

That no one ever walked to Sui-fu from this place the district potentateassured me in a private chit, which I could not read, when he laid hisgunboat at my disposal. 

This, he said, would take me up very quickly. In his second note, wherein he apologized that indisposition kept him from callingpersonally upon me--this, of course, was a lie--he said he would feel itan honor if I would be pleased to accept the use of his contemptibleboat. But T'ong whispered that the law uses these terms in China, andthat nobody would be more disappointed than the Chinese magistrate if I_did_ take advantage of his unmeaning offer. So I took a _wu-pan_, andthe following night, when pulling into the shadows of the Sui-fu pagoda, cold and hungry, I cursed my luck that I had not broken down the uselessetiquette which these Chinese officials extend towards foreigners, andtaken the fellow's gunboat. 

The _wu-pan_, they swore to me, would be ready to leave at 3:30 a. M. Theday following. My boy did not venture to sleep at all. He stayed upoutside my bedroom door--I say bedroom, but actually it was an apartmentwhich in Europe I would not put a horse into, and the door was merely awide, worm-eaten board placed on end. In the middle of the night I hearda noise--yea, a rattle. The said board fell down, inwards, almost uponme. A light was flashed swiftly into my eyes, and desultory remarkswhich suddenly escaped me were rudely interrupted by shrill screams. Myboy was singing. 

"Master, " he cried, pulling hard-heartedly at my left big toe to wakeme, "come on, come on; you wantchee makee get up. Have got two o'clock. Get up; p'laps me no wakee you, no makee sleep--no b'long ploper. Oneman makee go bottomside--have catchee boat. This morning no have gottea--no can catch hot water makee boil. "

And soon we were ready to start. Punctually to the appointed hour wewere at the bottom of the steep, dark incline leading down to the riverbank. 

But my reckonings were bad. 

The _laoban_ and the other two youthful members of the half-witted crewhad not yet taken their "chow, " and this, added to many littlediscrepancies in their reckoning and in mine, kept me in a boiling rageuntil half-past six, when at last they pushed off, and nearly capsizedthe boat at the outset. The details of that early morning, and thehappenings throughout the long, sad day, I think I can neverforget--from the breaking of tow-lines to frequent stranding on therocks and sticking on sandbanks, the orders wrongly given, the narrowescape of fire on board, the bland thick-headedness of the ass of acaptain, the collisions, and all the most profound examples of savageignorance displayed when one has foolish Chinese to deal with. Wereached half-way at 4:30 p. M. , with sixty li to do against a wind. Hourafter hour they toiled, making little headway with their misdirectedlabor, wasting their energies in doing the right things at the wrongtime, and wrong things always, and long after sundown Sui-fu's pagodaloomed in the distance. At 11:00 p. M. , stiff and hungry, and mad withrage, I was groping my way on all fours up the slippery steps throughunspeakable slime and filth at the quayhead, only to be led to adisgusting inn as dirty as anything I had yet encountered. It was hardlines, for I could get no food. 

An invitation, however, was given me by the Rev. R. McIntyre, who withhis charming wife conducts the China Inland Mission in this city, tocome and stay with them. The next morning, after a sleepless night oftwisting and turning on a bug-infested bed, I was glad to take advantageof the missionary's kindness. I could not have been given a kindlierwelcome. 

Sui-fu has a population of roughly 150, 000, and the overcrowdingquestion is not the least important. It is situated to advantage on theright bank of the Yangtze, and does an immense trade in medicines, opium, silk, furs, silverwork, and white wax, which are the chiefexports. Gunboats regularly come to Sui-fu during the heavy rains. 

Just outside the city, a large area is taken up with gravemounds--common with nearly every Chinese city. Mr. McIntyre and Mr. Herbert, who was passing through Sui-fu _en route_ for Ta-chien-lu, where he is now working, showed me around the city one afternoon, andone could see everything typical of the social life of two thousandyears ago. The same narrow lanes succeed each other, and the convictionis gradually impressed upon the mind that such is the general trend ofthe character of the city and its people. There were the same busymechanics, barbers, traders, wayside cooks, traveling fortune-tellers, and lusty coolies; the wag doctor, the bane of the gullible, was thereto drive his iniquitous living; now and then the scene's monotony wasdisturbed by the presence of the chair and the retinue of a citymandarin. Yet with all the hurry and din, the hurrying and the scurryingin doing and driving for making money, seldom was there an accident orinterruption of good nature. There was the same romance in the streetsthat one reads of at school--so much alike and yet so different fromwhat one meets in the Chinese places at the coast or in Hong-Kong orSingapore. In Sui-fu, more than in any other town in Western China whichI visited, had the native artist seemed to have lavished his ingenuityon the street signboards. Their caligraphy gave the most humorousintimation of the superiority of the wares on sale; many of themcontained some fictitious emblem, adopted as the name of the shop, similar to the practice adopted in London two centuries ago, and socommon now in the Straits Settlements, where bankrupts are allowedconsiderable more freedom than would be possible if fictitiousregistration were not allowed. I refer to the Registration ofPartnerships. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote G: I inspected the railway at Ichang in December, 1910, andfound that a remarkable scheme was making very creditable progress. Around the main station centre there was an air of bustle andexcitement, some 20, 000 coolies were in employment there, all thebuildings and equipment bore evidences of thoroughness, and the schemeseemed to be going on well. But in January of this year (1911) a meetingwas held at Chen-tu, the proposed destination of the line, and thegentry then decided that as nothing was being done at that end thecompany should be requested to stop work at Ichang, and start laying theline from Chen-tu, at the other end. "All the money will be spent, " theycried, "and we shall get nothing up this end!" If the money ran out andleft the central portion of the line incomplete, it did not matter solong as each city had something for its money!--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote H: This is not true to-day. There has been a great falling offin numbers. --E. J. D. , February, 1911. ]

[Footnote I: This should not be taken to apply to the _fu-song_everywhere. I have found them to be the most useful on other occasions, but the above was written at Luchow as my experience of that particularday. --E. J. D. ]

FOURTH JOURNEY. 

SUI-FU TO CHAO-T'ONG-FU (VIA LAO-WA-T'AN). 

CHAPTER VII. 

_Chinese and simplicity of speech_. _Author and his caravan stopped_. _Advice to travelers_. _Farewell to Sui-fu_. _The postal service andtribute to I. P. O. _ _Rushing the stages_. _Details of journey_. _Description of road to Chao-t'ong-fu_. _Coolie's pay_. _My boy stealsvegetables_. _Remarks on roads and railways_. _The real Opening ofChina_. _How the foreigner will win the confidence of the Chinese_. _Distances and their variability_. _Calculations uprooted_. _Author in adilemma_. _The scenery_. _Hard going_. _A wayside toilet, and someembarrassment_. _Filth inseparable from Chinese humanity_. _AboutChinese inns_. _Typewriter causes some fun_. _Soldiers guard mydoorway_. _Man's own "inner room. "_ _One hundred and forty li in a day_. _Grandeur and solitude_. _Wisdom of traveling alone_. _Coolie nearlycuts his toe off_. _Street scene at Puérh-tu_. _The "dying" coolie_. _Amanacled prisoner_. _Entertained by mandarins_. _How plans do not workout_. 

He who would make most abundant excuses for the Chinese could not saythat he is simple in his speech. 

That speech is the chief revelation of the mind, the first visible formthat it takes, is undoubtedly true: as the thought, so the speech. All social relations with us have their roots in mutual trust, and thistrust is maintained by each man's sincerity of thought and speech. Apparently not so in China. There is so much craft, so much diplomacy, so much subtle legerdemain that, if he chooses, the Chinese may give youno end of trouble to inform yourself on the simplest subject. TheChinese, like so many cavillers and calumniators, all glib of tongue, who know better than any nation on earth how to turn voice and pen toaccount, have taken the utmost advantage of extended means ofcirculating thought, with the result that an Englishman such as myself, even were I a deep scholar of their language, would have the greatestdifficulty in getting at the truth about their own affairs. 

As I was going out of Sui-fu my caravan and myself were delayed by somefellow, who held the attention of my men for a full quarter of an hour. I listened, understanding nothing. After another five minutes, by whichtime the conversation had assumed what I considered dangerousproportions, having the safety of my boy at heart, I asked--

"T'ong, what is it?"

"Half a sec. , " he replied (having learnt this phrase from the gunboatmen down the river). He did not, however, take his eyes from the manwith whom he was holding the conversation. He then dived into myfood-basket, wrenched off the top of a tin, and pulled therefrom twobeautifully-marked live pigeons, which flapped their wings helplessly toget away, and resumed the conversation. Talk waxed furious, the birdswere placed by the side of the road, and T'ong, now white with seemingrage, threatened to hit the man. It turned out that the plaintiff wasthe seller of the birds, and that T'ong had got them too cheap. 

"That man no savee. He thinkee you, master, have got plenty money. Heb'long all same rogue. I no b'long fool. I know, I know. "

As the cover of the food-basket was closed down I noticed a cooked fowl, two live pheasants with their legs tied together, a pair of my own muddyboots, a pair of dancing pumps, and a dirty collar, all in addition tomy little luxuries and the two pigeons aforesaid. Reader, if thouwould'st travel in China, peep not into thy _hoh shïh lan tsï_ if thouwould'st feed well. 

T'ong, laughing derisively, waved fond and fantastic salutations to thedisappointed vendor of pigeons, and moved backwards on tiptoe till hecould see him no more; then we went noiselessly down a steep incline outinto an open space of distracted and dishevelled beauty on our way toChao-t'ong-fu. 

From Chung-king I had stuck to the regular stages. I had done nohustling, but I decided to rush it to Chao-t'ong if I could, as thereports I heard about being overtaken by the rains in Yün-nan wererather disquieting. I had taken to Sui-fu three times as long as theregular mail time, the service of which is excellent. Chung-king has noless than six local deliveries daily, thus eliminating delays after thedelivery of the mails, and a daily service to the coast has also beenestablished. A fast overland service to Wan Hsien now exists, by whichthe coast mails are transmitted between that port and Chung-king in thehitherto unheard-of time of two days--a traveler considers himselffortunate if he covers the same distance in eight days. There are fastdaily services to Luchow (380 li distant) in one day, Sui-fu (655 li) intwo days, Hochow (180 li) in one night, and Chen-tu (1, 020 li) in threedays. It is creditable to the Chinese Imperial Post Office that a letterposted at Sui-fu will be delivered in Great Britain in a month's time. 

It was a dull, chilly morning that I left Sui-fu, leading my littleprocession through the city on my way to Anpien, which was to be reachedbefore sundown. My coolies--probably owing to having derived morepecuniary advantage than they expected during the journey fromChung-king--decided to re-engage, and promised to complete thefourteen-day tramp to Chao-t'ong-fu, two hundred and ninety milesdistant, if weather permitted, in eleven days. We were to travel by thefollowing stages:--

 Length of Height above stage sea

 1st day--Anpien 90 li ---- 2nd day--Huan-chiang 55 li ---- 3rd day--Fan-ïh-ts'uen 70 li ---- 4th day--T'an-t'eo 70 li ---- 5th day--Lao-wa-t'an 140 li 1, 140 ft. 6th day--Teo-sha-kwan 60 li 4, 000 ft. 7th day--Ch'i-li-p'u 60 li 1, 900 ft. 8th day--Ta-wan-tsï 70 li ---- 9th day--Ta-kwan-ting 70 li 3, 700 ft. 10th day--Wuchai 60 li 7, 000 ft. 11th day--Chao-t'ong-fu 100 li 6, 400 ft. 

I knew that I was in for a very hard journey. The nature of the countryas far as T'an-t'eo, ten li this side of which the Szech'wan border isreached, is not exhausting, although the traveler is offered some roughand wild climbing. The next day's stage, to Lao-wa-t'an, is miserablybad. At certain places it is cut out of the rock, at others it runs inthe bed of the river, which is dotted everywhere with roaring rapids (aswe are ascending very quickly), and when the water is high these roadsare submerged and often impassable. In some places it was a six-inchpath along the mountain slope, with a gradient of from sixty to seventydegrees, and landslips and rains are ever changing the path. 

Lao-wa-t'an is the most important point on the route. One of the largestCustoms stations in the province of Yün-nan is here situated at the eastend of a one-span suspension bridge, about one hundred and fifty feet inlength. No ponies carrying loads are allowed to cross the bridge, theroads east of this being unfit for beasts of burden. There is then afearful climb to a place called Teo-sha-kwan, a stage of only sixty li. The reader should not mentally reduce this to English miles, for themarch was more like fifty miles than thirty, if we consider thephysical exertion required to scale the treacherous roads. Over a broad, zigzagging, roughly-paved road, said to have no less than ninety-eightcurves from bottom to top, we ascend for thirty li, and then descend forthe remainder of the journey through a narrow defile along the northernbank of the river, the opposite side being a vertical sheet of rockrising to at least a thousand feet sheer up, very similar to the gorgesof the Mekong at the western end of the province, which I crossed in duecourse. 

To Ch'i-li-p'u, high up on the mountain banks, the first twenty-five liis by the river. At the half-way place a fearful ascent is experienced, the most notable precipice on the route between Sui-fu and Yün-nan-fu, up a broad zigzag path, and as I sat at dinner I could see neither topnor bottom owing to the overhanging masses of rock: this is after havingnegotiated an ascent quite as steep, but smaller. To Ta-kwan-hsien a fewnatural obstacles occur, although the road is always high up on thehill-sides. I crossed a miserable suspension bridge of two spans. Thesouthern span is about thirty feet, the northern span eighty feet; thecenter is supported by a buttress of splendid blocks of squared stone, resting on the rock in the bed of the river, one side being considerablyworn away by the action of the water. The longer span was hung veryslack, the woodwork forming the pathway was not too safe, and thegeneral shaky appearance was particularly uninviting. 

From Ta-kwan-hsien to Wuchai is steady pulling. Once in an opening inthe hill we passed along and then ascended an exceedingly steep spur onone side of a narrow and very deep natural amphitheatre, formed bysurrounding mountains. We then came to a lagoon, and eventually the browof the hill was reached. Thus the Wuchai Valley is arrived at, where, owing to a collection of water, the road is often impassable to man andbeast. Often during the rainy season there is a lagoon of mud or waterformed by the drainage from the mountains, which finds no escape but bypercolating through the earth and rock to a valley on the east of, andbelow, the mountains forming the eastern boundary of the Wuchai Valley. To Chao-t'ong is fairly level going. 

Considering the road, it was not unnatural that my men gibbed a littleat the eleven-day accomplishment. I had a long parley with them, however, and agreed to reward them to the extent of one thousand cashamong the three if they did it. Their pay for the journey, overadmittedly some of the worst roads in the Empire, was to be four hundredcash per man as before, with three hundred and thirty-three cash extraif the rain did not prevent them from getting in in eleven days. Theywere in good spirits, and so was I, as we walked along the river-bank, where the poppy was to be seen in full flower, and the unending beds ofrape alternated with peas and beans and tobacco. T'ong would persist instealing the peas and beans to feed me on, and for the life of me Icould not get him to see that he should not do this sort of thing. Buthow continually one was impressed with the great need of roads inWestern China! It is natural that, walking the whole distance, I shouldnotice this more than other travelers have done, and, to my mind, roadsin this part of the country rank in importance before the railways. 

To the foreign mind it is more to the interests of China that railwaysshould be well and serviceably built than that the money should besquandered to no purpose. If the railway has rails, then in China it canbe called a railway, and China is satisfied. So with the roads. If thereis any passage at all, then the Chinese call it a road, and China issatisfied. 

As one meanders through the country, watching a people who are equallednowhere in the world for their industry, plodding away over the worstroads any civilized country possesses, he cannot but think, even lookingat the question from the Chinese standpoint so far as he is able, that, were free scope once given for the infusion of Western energy andmethods into an active, trade-loving people like the Chinese, Chinawould rival the United States in wealth and natural resources. TheChinese knows that his country, the natural resources of the country andthe people, will allow him to do things on a scale which will by and bycompletely overbalance the doings of countries less favored by Naturethan his own. He knows that when properly developed his country will beone of the richest in the world, yet even when he is filled with suchideas he is just as cunctative as he has ever been. He has the idea thathe should not commence to exhaust the wealth of his country before it isabsolutely necessary. 

Above all, he has now made up his mind that he himself, unaided by theforeigner, is going to develop it just as he likes and just when helikes. 

The day of the foreign concession is gone. The Chinese now is paddlinghis own canoe, and it is only by cultivating his friendship, by provingto him by acts, and not by words, that the intrusion of privilegedenterprises--such as great mining concessions and railway concessions, in which the foreigner demands that he be the only principal--is nolonger contemplated, that the day will be won. But it is equally truethat only by combining European and Chinese interests on the moderncompany system, the real Opening of China can be effected. 

 * * * * *

Distances are as variable as the wind in the Middle Kingdom. 

The first forty li on this journey were much shorter than the lastthirty, which took about twice as long to cover. I dragged along overthe narrow path through the wheat fields, and, making for an old man, who looked as if he should know, I asked him the distance to mydestination. His reply of twenty li I accepted as accurate, and Ireckoned that I could cover this easily in a couple of hours. But at theend of this time we had, according to a casual wayfarer, five more li, and when we had covered at least four another rustic said it was "twoand a bit. " This answer we got from four different people on the way, and I was glad when I had completed the journey. One does not mind thetwo li so much--it is the "bit" which upsets one's calculations. 

The following day, on the road to Huan-chiang, I lost myself--that is, Ilost my men, and did not know the road. I got away into some quaint, secluded garden and sat down, tired and hot, under a tree in the shade, where a faint wind swung the heavy foliage with a solemn sound, and thesubdued and soothing music of a brook running between two banks of mossand turf must have sent me to sleep. It was with a dreary sense ofominous foreboding that I woke, as if in expectation of some disaster. Not a living creature was visible, and I doubted the possibility offinding anyone in such a spot. Never, surely, was there a silenceanywhere as here! Seized with a solemn fear, my presence there seemed tome a strange intrusion. I looked around, moved forward a little, hastened my steps to get away, but whence or how I knew not. I knew thiswas a country of erratic distances--it was now getting on forsunset--and the continuous toiling up and down the sides of thedifficult mountains had tired me. All of a sudden I heard a noise, heardsomeone fall, looked round and beheld T'ong, perspiration pouring downhis back and front. 

"Oh, master, this b'long velly much bobbery. I makee velly frightened. Ithink p'laps master wantchee makee run away. " And then, after a time:"You no wantchee catch 'chow'?"

"Chow?"

No, I could easily have gone without food for that night. I was lost, and now was found. I had no money, could not speak the language, wasfatigued beyond words. What would have become of me?

Miniature turret-like hills hemmed us in as in a huge park, with anarrow winding pathway, steep as the side of a house, leading to the topof the mountain beyond, and then descending quite as rapidly toFan-ïh-ts'uen. The coolies told me the next day the road would be worse, and so it turned out to be. 

At 5:00 a. M. A thick drizzly rain was falling, just sufficient to makethe flagstones slippery as ice, and the European contrivances whichcovered my feet stood no chance at all compared with the straw sandalsof the native. I could not get any big enough around here to put over myboots. My carriers had gone ahead, and as I was passing a paddy fieldone leg went from under me, and I was up to my middle in thin wet mud. In this I had to trudge seven miles before I could get other garmentsfrom the coolie, changing my trousers behind a piece of matting held upin front of me by my boy! All enjoyed the fun--except myself. Littleboys tried to peer around the side of the matting, and, as T'ong triedto kick them away, the matting would drop and expose me to public view. But I had to change, and that was most important to me. 

Later on, my ugly coolie--the ugliest man in or out of China, I shouldthink, ugly beyond description--dropped my bedding as he was crossingthe river, and I had the pleasure of sleeping on a wet bed at T'an-teo. 

I must ask the reader's pardon for again referring to Chinese inns. Ishould not have made any remark upon this awful hovel had not the manlaid a scheme to charge me three times as much as he should--a scheme, be it said, in which my boy took no part. It was truly a fearful den, where man and beast lived in promiscuous and insupportable filth. Thedung-heap charms the sight of this agricultural people, without in theslightest wounding their olfactory nerves, and these utilitarians thinkthere is no use seeking privacy to do what they regard as beneficial andproductive work. The bed here was the worst I had had offered me. Themattress, upon which every previous traveler for many years had left histribute of vermin, was not fit for use, there were myriads of filthyinsects, and I found myself obliged to stop and have some clothesboiled, and for comfort's sake rubbed my body with Chinese wine. Filththere was everywhere. It seemed inseparable from the people, and a totalapathy as regards matter in the wrong place pervaded all classes, fromthe highest to the lowest. The spring is opening, and my hard-workedcoolies doff their heavy padded winter clothing, parade their nakedskin, and are quite unconscious of any disgrace attending the exhibitionof the itch sores which disfigure them. 

I remember, however, that I am in China, and must not be disgusted. 

And should any reader be disgusted at the disjointed character of thisparticular portion of my common chronicle, I would only say in apologythat I am writing under the gaze of a mystified crowd, each of whom hasa word to say about my typewriter--the first, undoubtedly, that he hasever seen. This machine has caused the greatest surprise all along theroute, and it is on occasions when the Chinese sees for the first timethings of this intimate mechanical nature that he gives one theimpression that he is a little boy. The people crowd into my room; theycannot be kept out, although at the present moment I have stationed mytwo soldiers in the doorway where I am writing, so as to get a littlelight, to keep them from crowding actually upon me. 

It has been said that all of us have an innermost room, wherein weconceal our own secret affairs. In China everything is so open, and somuch must be done in public, that it would surprise one to know that theChinese have an inner room. The European traveler in this region musthave no inner room, either, for the people seem to see down deep intoone's very soul. But it is when one wanders on alone, as I have doneto-day, doing two days in one, no less than one hundred and forty li ofterrible road through the most isolated country, that one can enjoy thecomfort of one's own loneliness and own inner room. The scenery waspicturesque, much like Scotland, but the solitude was the best of all. Ihad left office and books and manuscripts, and was on a lonely walk, enjoying a solitude from which I could not escape, a reverie which waspassed not nearly so much in thinking as in feeling, a feeling tonature-lovers which can never be completely expressed in words. It wasindeed a refuge from the storms of life, and a veritable chamber ofpeace. And this, to my mind, is the way to spend a holiday. Robert LouisStevenson tells us in one of his early books what a complete world twocongenial friends make for themselves in the midst of a foreignpopulation; all the hum and the stir goes on, and these two strangersexchange glances, and are filled with an infinite content Some of uswould rather be alone, perhaps; for on a trip such as I am making now, in order to be happy with a companion you must have one who isthoroughly congenial and sympathetic, one who understands your unspokenthought, who is willing to let you have your way on the concession ofthe same privilege. Selfishness in the slightest degree should not enterin. But such a man is difficult to find, so I wander on alone, happy inmy own solitude. Here I have liberty, perfect liberty. 

I was stopped on my way to Lao-wa-t'an at a small town called Puêrh-tu, the first place of importance after having come into Yün-nan. A few libefore reaching this town, one of my men cut the large toe of his leftfoot on a sharp rock, lacerating the flesh to the bone. I attended tohim as best I could on the road, paid him four days' extra pay, and thenhad a bit of a row with him because he would not go back. He avowed thatcarrying for the foreigner was such a good thing that he feared leavingit! Upon entering Puêrh-tu, however, he fell in the roadway. A crowdgathered, a loud cry went up from the multitude, and in theconsternation and confusion which ensued the people divided themselvesinto various sections. 

Some rushed to proffer assistance to the fallen man (this was donebecause I was about; he would have been left had a foreigner not beenthere), others gathered around me with outrageous adulation and seemingwords of welcome. Meanwhile, I thought the coolie was dying, and, fearful and unnatural as it seems, it is nevertheless true that at allages the Chinese find a peculiar and awful satisfaction in watching theagonies of the dying. By far the larger part of the mob was watching himdying, as they thought. But no, he was still worth many dead men! Heslowly opened his eyes, smiled, rose up, and immediately recognized apoor manacled wretch, then passing under escort of several soldiers, whostopped a little farther down, followed by a mandarin in a chair. 

On this particular day, more than a customary morbid diversion was thusapparent among the motley-garbed mass of men and women, and theignominious way in which that prisoner was treated was horrible to lookupon. The perpetual hum of voices sounded like the noise made by athousand swarming bees. The band of soldiers guarding the prisonersuddenly halted, whilst the mandarin conferred with the chief, afterwhich he advanced slowly towards me. 

I was on the point of telling him in English that I had done nothingagainst the law, so far as I knew. 

He bowed solemnly, during which time I, attempting the same, had muchtrouble from bursting out laughing in his face. He beckoned to me, andthen rushed me bodily into a house, where, in the best room, I foundanother official and his two sons. T'ong followed as interpreter. Themandarin explained that I was wanted to stay the night, that atheatrical entertainment had been arranged particularly for my benefit, that he wished I would take their photographs, that one of them wouldlike a cigarette tin with some cigarettes in it, and that one of themwould like to sell me a thoroughbred, hard-working, magnificently-shaped, without-a-single-vice black pony, which they wouldpart with for my benefit for the consideration of one hundred taels down(four times its value), which awaited my inspection without. I stood upand fronted them, and replied, through T'ong, that I could not stay thenight, that I would be pleased to tolerate the howling of the theatrefor one half of an hour, that it would have given me the greatestpleasure to take their photographs, but, alas! my films were not many. Ihanded them a cigarette tin, but quite forgot that they asked forcigarettes as well (I had none), and I explained that horse-riding wasnot one of my accomplishments, so that their quadruped would be of nouse to me. 

They looked glum, I smiled serenely. This is Chinesey. 

CHAPTER VIII

_Szech-wan and Yün-nan_. _Coolies and their loads_. _Exports andimports_. _Hints to English exporters_. _Food at famine rates_. _Awretched inn at Wuchai_. _Author prevents murder_. _Sleeping in therain_. _The foreign cigarette trade_. _Poverty of Chao-t'ong_. _Simplicity of life_. _Possible advantages of Chinese in struggle ofyellow and white races_. _Foreign goods in Yün-nan and Szech'wan_. _Thousands of beggars die_. _Supposed lime poisoning_. _Content of thepeople_. _Opium not grown_. _Prices of prepared drug in Tong-ch'uan-fucompared_. _Smuggling from Kwei-chow_. _Opium and tin of Yün-nan_. _Remarkable bonfire at Yün-nan-fu_. _Infanticide at Chao-t'ong_. _Selling of female children into slavery_. _Author's horse steps onhuman skull_. 

Were one uninformed, small observance would be necessary to detect theborderline of Szech'wan and Yün-nan. The latter is supposed to be one ofthe most ill-nurtured and desolate provinces of the Empire, mountainous, void of cultivation when compared with Szech'wan, one mass of high hillsconditioned now as Nature made them; and the people, too, ashamed oftheir own wretchedness, are ill-fed and ill-clad. 

The greater part of the roads to be traversed now were constructed onprojecting slopes above rivers and torrents, affluents of the Yangtze, and cross a region upon which the troubled appearance of the mountainsthat bristle over it stamps the impress of a severe kind of beauty. Suchroads would not be tolerated in any country but China--I doubt if anybut the ancient Chinese could have had the patience to build them. Onecould not walk with comfort; it was an impossible task. Far away overthe earth, winding into all the natural trends of the mountain base, ranthe highway, merrily tripping over huge boulders, into hollows and outof them, almost underground, but always, with its long white extendedfinger, beckoning me on by the narrow ribbon in the distance. True, although I was absolutely destitute of company, I had always the roadwith me, yet ever far from me. I could not catch it up, and sometimes, dreaming triumphantly that I had now come even with it where it seemedto end in some disordered stony mass, it would trip mischievously outagain into view, bounding away into some tricky bend far down to theedge of the river, and rounding out of sight once more until the pointof vantage was attained. Its twisting and turning, up and down, inwards, outwards, made humor for the full long day. With it I could not quarrel, for it did its best to help me with my weary men onwards over the nowdarkened landscape, and ever took the lead to urge us forward. If itcame to a great upstanding mountain, with marked politeness it ran roundby a circuitous route, more easily if of greater length; at other timesit scaled clear up, nimbly and straight, turning not once to us in itsself-appointed task, and at the top, standing like some fairy on asteeple-point, beckoned us on encouragingly. At times it becameexhausted and stretched itself wearisomely out, measuring in width toonly a few small inches, and overlooked the river at great height, telling us to ponder well our footsteps ere we go forward. To partcompany with the road would mean to die, for elsewhere was no footholdpossible. So in this narrow faithful ledge, torn up by the heavy treadof countless horses' feet beyond Lao-wa-t'an (where horse trafficstarts), we carefully ordered every step. Looking down, sheer down asfrom some lofty palace window, I saw the green snake waiting, waitingfor me. Slipping, there would be no hope--death and the river alone laydown that treacherous mountain-side. And then, at times, pursuing thatwhite-faced wriggling demon which stretched out far over the mist-sweptlandscape in incessant writhing and annoying contortions, we quite gaveup the chase. It seemed leading me on to some unknown destiny. I knewnot whither; only this I knew--that I must follow. 

And so each hour and every hour was fraught with peril which seemedimminent. But He who guards the fatherless and helpless, feeds the poorand friendless, guarded the traveler in those days. Mishaps I had none, and when at night I reached those tiny mountain seats, perchedmajestically high for the most part and swept by all the winds ofheaven, I seemed to be the lonely spectator and companionless watcherover mighty mountain-tops, which appeared every moment to be hesitatingto take a gigantic dive into the roaring river several hundred feetbelow our lofty resting-place. 

Some of the larger villages had the arrogant look of old feudalfortresses, and up the paths leading to them, cut out in a defile in thevertical cliffs, we passed with difficulty coolies carrying on theirbacks the enormous loads, which are the wonder of all who have seenthem, their backs straining under the boomerang-shaped frames to whichthe merchandise was lashed. Hundreds passed us on their toilsome journeywith tea, lamp-oil, skins, hides, copper, lead, coal and white wax fromYün-nan, and with salt, English cotton, Chinese porcelain, fans and soon from Szech'wan. One false step, one slight slip, and they would havebeen hurled down the ravine, where far below, in the roaring cataract, dwarfed to the size of a toy boat, was a junk being cleverly takendown-stream. And down there also, one false move and the huge junk wouldhave been dashed against the rocks, and banks strewn with the corpses ofthe crew. As it was, they were mere specks of blue in a background ofwhite foam, their vociferating and yelling being drowned by the roar ofthe waters. On the road, passing and re-passing, I saw coolies on theway to Yün-nan-fu with German cartridges and Japanese guns, the packing, so different generally to British goods which come into China, beingparticularly good. This is one of the cries of the importer in Chinaagainst the British manufacturer; and if the latter knew more of Chinesetransport and the manner in which the goods are handled in changing fromplace to place, one would meet fewer broken packages on the road in thisland of long distances. 

A friend of mine, needing a typewriter, wrote home explicit instructionsas to the packing. "Pack it ready to ship, " he wrote, "then take it tothe top of your office stairs, throw it down the stairs, take machineout and inspect, and if it is undamaged re-pack and send to me. Ifdamaged, pack another machine, subject to the same treatment until youare convinced that it can stand being thus handled and escape injury. "This is how goods coming to Western China should be sent away. 

Gradually the days brought harder toil. The mountains grew higher, somecovered with forests of pine trees, which natural ornament completelychanged the aspect of the country. Torrents foamed noisily down thegorges, veiled by the curtain of great trees; sometimes, on a ridge, afield of buckwheat, shining in the sun, looked like the beginning of theeternal snows. 

Food was at famine rates. Eggs there were in abundance, pork also; butit was not to be wondered at that the traveler, having seen theconditions under which the pigs are reared, refrained from the luxury ofYün-nan roast pig. My men fed on maize. The faces of the people werepinched and wan, unpleasant to look upon, bearing unmistakable signs ofpoverty and misery, and they seemed too concerned in keeping the wolffrom the door to attend to me. At Ta-kwan they treated themselves to a_sheng_ of rice apiece--here the _sheng_ is 1. 8 catties, as against 11catties in the capital of the province. 

At Wuchai, the last stage before reaching Chao-t'ong-fu, the room of theinn had three walls only, and two of these were composed of kerosenetins, laced together with bamboo stripping. (Probably the oil tins hadbeen stolen from the mission premises at Chao-t'ong. ) Through the wholenight it rained as it had never rained before, but, instead of feelingmiserable, I tried to see the humor of the situation. One can get humorfrom the most embarrassing circumstances, and my chief amusement arosefrom a small business deal between one of my coolies, who had sublet hiscontract to a poor fellow returning in the rain, who had arranged tocarry the ninety catties ninety li for a fourth of the original pricearranged between my coolie and myself. For one full hour they argued ata terrible speed as to the rate of exchange in the Szech'wan large andthe Yün-nan small cash, and this was only interrupted when a poor man, deaf and dumb, and of hideous appearance, seeing the foreigner in hiscontemptible town, rushed in with a carrying pole and felled hisgrumbling townsman at my feet. 

My intervention probably averted murder--at any rate, it seemed asthough murder would have taken place very soon but for my interference. The whole populace gathered, of course, and the fight waged fiercelyuntil well on into the night. But wrapping myself in my mackintosh, andputting my paper umbrella at the right angle, I went to sleep with therain dripping on me as they were indulging in final pleasantriesregarding each other's ancestry. 

The first thing I saw at Chao-t'ong the next day was the foreigncigarette, sold at a wayside stall by a vendor of monkey nuts and marrowseeds. No trade has prospered in Yün-nan during the past two years morethan the foreign cigarette trade, and the growing evil among thechildren of the common people, both male and female, is viewed withalarm. From Tachien-lu to Mengtsz, from Chung-king to Bhamo, one israrely out of sight of the well-known flaring posters in the Chinesecharacters advertising the British cigarette. Some months ago a coupleof Europeans were sent out to advertise, and they stuck their posterdecorations on the walls of temples, on private houses and officialresidences, with the result that the people were piqued so much as totear down the bills immediately. In Yün-nan, especially since the exitof opium, this common cigarette is smoked by high and low, rich andpoor. I have been offered them at small feasts, and when calling uponhigh officials at the capital have been offered a packet of cigarettesinstead of a whiff of opium, as would have been done formerly. One isnot, of course, prepared to say whether such a trade is desirable ornot, but it merely needs to be made known that towards the middle of thepresent year (1910) a proclamation was issued from the Viceroy's _yamen_at Yün-nan-fu speaking in strongest terms against the increasing habitof smoking foreign cigarettes, to show the trend of official opinion onthe subject. After having referred to the enormous advances made in theimports of cigarettes, the proclamation deplored the general tendency ofthe people to support such an undesirable trade, and exhorted thecitizens to turn from their evil ways. We cannot stop the importation ofcigarettes, it read, but there is no need for our people to buy. 

 * * * * *

At Chao-t'ong I stayed with the Rev. Dr. Savin, and spent a verypleasant two days' rest here in his hospitable hands. It was in thisdistrict I first came across goitre, the first time I had seen it in mylife. It is a terrible disfigurement. 

Poor indeed is the whole of this neighborhood. Poverty, thin and wantingfood to eat, stalks abroad dressed in a rag or two, armed with a staffto keep away the snarling dogs, and a broken bowl to gather garbage. 

Even the better class, who manage to afford their maize and bean curds, are to be praised for the extreme simplicity which everywhere vividlymarks their monotonous lives. Indeed, this is true of the whole areathrough which I have traveled. No furniture brings confusion to theirrooms, no machinery distresses the ear with its groaning or the eye withits unsightliness, no factories belch out smoke and blacken the beautyof the sky, no trains screech to disturb sleepers and frighten babies. The simplest of simple beds--in most cases merely a few boards with astraw mattress placed thereon--the straw sandal on the foot, woodenchopsticks in place of knives and forks, the small variety of foods andof cooking utensils, the simple homespun cotton clothing--much of thisfinds favor in the eye of the English traveler. The Chinese, of allOrientals, teach us how to live without furniture, without impedimenta, with the least possible amount of clothing in the case of the poorerclasses, and I could not fail to be impressed by the advantage thus heldby this great nation in the struggle of life. It may serve them in goodstead in the struggle of the Yellow Man against the White Man, to whichI refer at a later period in this book; also does it incidentally showup the real character of some of the weaknesses of our own civilization, and when one is in China, living near the people, one is forced toreflect upon the useless multiplicity of our daily wants. We must haveour daily stock of bread and butter and meats, glass windows and fires, hats, white shirts and woolen underwear, boots and shoes, trunks, bagsand boxes, bedsteads, mattresses, sheets and blankets--most of which aChinese can do without, and indeed is actually better off without. [J]

This is not true in every class, however; for whilst there is no denyingthe charm of the simpler civilization, many of the Chinese of Szech'wanand Yün-nan glory in goods of foreign manufacture, no matter if to themis not disclosed the proper purpose of any particular article adopted. 

Rice will not grow here in great quantities, owing to the scarcity ofwater; therefore the people feed on maize, and are thankful to get it. 

Chao-t'ong is the centre of a large district devastated by recurringseasons of plague, rebellion and famine, when thousands die annuallyfrom starvation in the town and on the level uplands surrounding it. Thebeggars on one occasion, becoming so numerous, were driven from thestreets, confined within the walls of the temple and grounds beyond theSouth Gate, and there fed by common charity. Huddled together in diseaseand rags and unspeakable misery, they died in thousands, and the Chinesesay that of five thousand who crossed the temple threshold two thousandnever came out alive. 

This happened some twenty years ago. The unfortunate victims had fortheir food a rice porridge, mixed with which was a subtance alleged tohave been lime, the common belief being that the majority of those whoperished died from the effect of poisoning. Outside the city boundaryhundreds of the dead were flung into huge pits, and even now theinhabitants refer to the time when children were exchanged _ad libitum_for a handful of rice or even less. 

During my stay in this city, I heard on all hands some of the mostblood-curdling stories of the dire distress which, like a dark cloud, still menaces the people, some of which are too dreadful for publicprint. 

But I suppose these poor people are content. If they are, they possess avirtue which produces, in some measure at all events, all those effectswhich the alchemist usually ascribes to what he calls the philosopher'sstone; and if their content does not bring riches, it banishes thedesire for them. Years ago the people could entertain some small hopeof prosperity now and again. If the opium crop were good, money wasplentiful. But now no opium is grown, and the misery-stricken peoplehave lost all hope of better times, and seem to have sunk in manyinstances to the lowest pangs of distressful poverty. [K]

Reader, alarm not yourself! I am not here to lead you into a longharangue on opium--it presents too thorny a subject for me to handle. Iam not a partisan in the opium traffic; my mission is not essentially todenounce it; I am not impelled by an irresistible desire to investigatefacts and put them before you. There is practically no opium in Yün-nanto talk about. 

This is absolute fact--not a Chinese fact, but good old British truth(although British truth when it touches upon opium has been very, veryperverted since we first commenced to transact opium trade with thisgreat country). With the exception of one small patch, some ten milesaway from the main road between Yün-nan-fu and Tali-fu, I saw no poppywhatever in the province. This does not mean, however, that no opium isto be had. 

During the past three weeks[L] no less than five cases of attemptedsuicide by opium poisoning have come under my personal notice in thetown in which I am residing, and there have doubtless been fifty morewhich have not. If there is no opium, where do the people so easilysecure it in endeavors to take their lives upon the slightestprovocation? Last year the price of opium here on the streets, althoughits sale was "illegal, " was over three tsien (about nine-pence) theChinese ounce of prepared opium. At the present time, in the same city, many men would be willing to do a deal for any quantity you like forless than two tsien. Cases of smuggling are frequent. One getsaccustomed to hear of large quantities being smuggled through in mostcunning ways, and it all goes to show that the _people_ of Yün-nan arenot, as some of China's enlightened statesmen and some of the rantingfaddists of England and America would have us believe, falling over oneanother in their zeal to free the province from the drug. 

The other day some men passed through several towns, on the way to thecapital, carrying three coffins. In the first was a corpse, the othertwo were packed with opium. Being suspected at Yün-nan-fu, the firstcoffin was opened, and the carriers, making as much row as they couldbecause their coffin had been burst open, secured a fair "squeeze" tohold their tongues, and the second and third coffins were passedunexamined. Quite common is it for men to travel in armed bands from theprovince of Kwei-chow, traveling by night over the mountains bylantern-light, and hiding by day from any possible official searchers. 

Opium, which is and always has been so heavily taxed, does not ingeneral follow the ordinary trade routes on which _likin_ stations arenumerous, but is carried by these armed bands over roads where thenative Customs stations are few, and so poorly equipped as to yieldreadily to superior force, where the men are compelled to accept acomposition much below the official rate. 

Opium smoking is still common in Western China among people who canafford it. At the time of the crusade against it, wealthy people laidin stocks enough to last them for years; and, so long as there issmuggling from other provinces, which do grow it, into those which donot, there will be no danger of the absolute extermination being carriedsuccessfully into effect. Kwei-chow, in common with the westernprovinces, has undeservedly secured the credit for having practicallyabolished the poppy; but at the present moment (December, 1909) she isat a loss to know what to do with her supply, and that is the reason whypeople of Yün-nan are making bargains in opium smuggled over the border. Much has yet to be done. To prevent the growth of a plant which has beenin China for at least twelve centuries, which has had medicinal uses fornine, and whose medicinal properties have been put in the capsule forsix, is not an easy matter, far more difficult, in fact, than theaverage Englishman and even those who rant so much about the wholebusiness upon little knowledge can imagine. Opium has been made in Chinafor four centuries, and although used then with tobacco, has been smokedsince the middle of the seventeenth century. [M]

A few years ago Yün-nan had only two articles of importance with whichto pay for extra provincial products consumed, namely, opium and tin. The latter came from a spot twenty miles from Mengtsz, and the value ofthe output now runs to approximately three million taels. Opium camefrom all parts of the province and went in all directions, that portionsent to the Opium Regie at Tonkin sometimes being close to threethousand piculs, and the quantity going by land into China being verymuch greater. Yün-nan opium was known at Canton and Chin-kiang in 1863. In 1879, the production was variously estimated at from twelve thousandto twenty-two thousand piculs; in 1887 it had risen to approximatelytwenty-seven thousand piculs, and since then to the time of the reformno less certainly than thirty thousand piculs. 

One afternoon, in November of 1909, the execution ground of Yün-nan-fuwas the scene of a remarkably daring proceeding by the officials in thecampaign for the total suppression of opium in the province. No lessthan 20, 040 ounces of prepared opium were publicly destroyed by fire inthe presence of an enormous crowd of people. The officials of the citywere present in person, and everywhere the event was looked upon as thegreatest public demonstration that the people had ever seen. 

The missionary of whom I inquired denied that the infanticide atChao-t'ong was very great--things must be improving!

Previous to my arrival at the city I had instructed my English-speakingboy to make inquiries in the city, and to let me know afterwards, whether girls were still sold publicly. 

"Have got plenty, " he exclaimed, in describing this wholesale selling offemale children into slavery. "I know, I know; you wantchee makee buy. Can do! You wantchee catch one piecee small baby, can catchee two, threetael. Wantchee one piecee very much tall, big piecee, can catch fiftydollar. "

Continuing, he told me that prices were fairly high, a girl who couldboast good looks and who had reached an age when her charms werenaturally the strongest fetching the alarming amount of three hundredtaels. This was the highest figure reached, whilst small children couldbe had for anything up to twenty. This wholesale disposal of younggirls, although the traffic was in some quarters emphatically denied toexist--a denial, however, which was all moonshine--is one of the chiefsorrows of the district. And well it might be; for thousands of childrenare disposed of in the course of a year for a few taels by heartlessparents, who watch them being carried away, like so much merchandise, tobe converted into silver, in many cases in this poverty-strickendistrict merely to satisfy the craving for opium of some sodden wretchof a man who calls himself a father. Time and time again, long after Imyself passed through Chao-t'ong, did I see little girls from three toten years of age being conveyed by pack-horse to the capital, balancedin baskets on either side of the animal. This and the terribleinfanticide which exists in all poor districts of China menaces thelives of all well-wishers of the entire province of Yün-nan. 

In the particular district of which I speak it is not an uncommon sightto see little children being torn to pieces by dogs, the scavengers ofthe Empire, perhaps by the very dogs that had been their playmates frombirth. I have been riding many times and found that my horse had steppedon a human skull, and near by were the bones the dogs had left as theremains of the corpse. 

 * * * * *

NOTE. --I should mention that, since the above was written, I have livedand travelled a good deal around Chao-t'ong-fu, being the only Europeantraveller who has ever penetrated the country to the east of the mainroad, by which I had now come down. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote J: Anyone who contemplates a tramp across China must not getthe idea that he can still continue the uses of civilization. For themost part he will have to live pretty well as a Chinese the whole time, and he will find, as I found, that it is easy to give up a thing whenyou know the impossibility of getting it. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote K: This was written later. I have altered my views since Ihave traveled from end to end of Yün-nan. The disappearance of opium, onthe contrary, apart from the moral advantage to the people, has donemuch to place them in a better position financially. In Tali-fu I foundnot a single shop on the main street "to let, " and the trade of theplace had gone ahead considerably, and this was a city which peoplegenerally supposed would suffer most on account of the non-growth ofopium. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote L: May, 1910. As a matter of fact the date makes nodifference, because unfortunately the number of suicides from opium doesnot seem to have decreased materially in Western China since the opiumcrusade was started. Upon the slightest provocation a Chinese woman inYün-nan will take her life, and it is probable that for the five caseswhich came to my notice through the mission house there were treble thatnumber which did not--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote M: This was written at the end of 1909 Now, in July, 1910, things are changed wonderfully. The rapidity with which China is drivingout the poppy from province after province is truly remarkable. InSzech'wan, in April, 1909, I passed through miles and miles of poppyalong the main road--to-day there is none to be seen It is to be hopedthat Great Britain will do her part as faithfully as China is doinghers. ]

CHAPTER IX. 

THE CHAO-T'ONG REBELLION OF 1910

_Digression from travel_. _How rebellions start in China_. _Famous Boxermotto_. _Way of escape shut off_. _Riots expected before West can be woninto the confidence of China_. _Boxerism and students of the GovernmentReform Movement_. _Author's impressions formed within the danger zone_. _More Boxerism in China than we know of_. _Causes of the Chao-t'ongRebellion_. _Halley's Comet brings things to a climax_. _Start of therioting_. _Arrival of the military_. _Number of the rebels_. _They holdthree impregnable positions, and block the main roads_. _European ladiestravel to the city in the dead of night_. _A new ch'en-tai takes thematter in hand_. _Rumors and suspense_. _Stations of the rebels_. _Anight attack_. _Sixteen rebels decapitated_. _Officials alter theirtactics_. _Fighting on main road_. _Superstition regarding soldiers_. _One of the leaders captured by a headman_. _Chapel burnt down andcaretaker rescued by military_. _Li the Invincible under arms_. _Huangtaken prisoner_. _Two leaders killed_. _Rising among the Miao_. _Missionwork at a standstill_. _Child-stealing, and the Yün-nan Railway rumor_. _Barbaric punishment_. _Tribute to Chinese officials_. _BritishConsul-General_. _Résumé of the position_. _An unfortunate incident_. 

Despite the fact that this chapter was the last written, it has beenthought wise to place it here. It deals with the Chao-t'ong Rebellion, of which the outside world, even when it was at its height, knew little, but which, so recently as a couple of months prior to the date ofwriting, threatened to spell extermination to the foreigners inNorth-East Yün-nan. And the reader, too, may welcome a digression fromtravel. 

In spite of all that has been written in previous and subsequentchapters, and in face of the universal cry of the progress China isspeedily realizing, of the stoutest optimism characteristic of thestatesman and of the student of Chinese affairs, a feeling of deep gloomat intervals overcomes one in the interior--a fear of some impendingtrouble. There is a rumor, but one smiles at it--there are alwaysrumors! Then there are more rumors, and a feeling of uneasiness pervadesthe atmosphere; a local bubble is formed, it bursts, the whole of one'strust in the sincerity of the reform of China and her people is brushedaway to absolute unbelief in a few days, and it means either a suddenonrush and brutal massacre of the foreigners, or the thing blows overafter a short or long time of great strain, and ultimately things assumea normality in which the detection of the slightest ruffle in thesurface of social life is hardly traceable. 

Such was the Chao-t'ong Rebellion, luckily unattended by loss of lifeamong the foreigners. It is not yet over, [N] but it is believed that theworst is past. 

At the end of 1909 probably no part of the Empire seemed more peaceful. Two months afterwards the heads of the Europeans were demanded;missionaries were guarded by armed soldiers in their homes inside thecity walls, and forbidden to go outside; native Christians were brutallymaltreated and threatened with death if they refused to turn traitor totheir beliefs; thousands of generally law-abiding men, formed into armedbands, were defiantly setting at naught the law of the land, and thewhole of the main road over which I had passed from Sui-fu toTong-ch'uan-fu (a distance of over four hundred miles) was blocked byinfuriated mobs, who were out to kill, --their motto the famousill-omened Boxer motto of 1900: "Exalt the dynasty; destroy theforeigner. "

"Kill, kill, kill!" ran the cry for miles around the countryside, and afearful repetition of the bloody history of ten years ago was dailyfeared. Providential, however, was it that no foreigner was traveling atthe time in these districts, and that those who, ignorant of thetroubles, desired to do so were stopped at Yün-nan-fu by the Consuls andat Sui-fu by the missionaries. It is a matter for gratitude also thatthroughout the riots, specially safeguarded by the great Providence ofGod, no lives of Europeans were lost; and owing to the praiseworthy andobvious attitude of the missionaries in this area in endeavoring to keepthe thing as quiet as possible, and the notoriously conservative mannerin which consular reports upon such matters are preserved inGovernmental lockers, practically nothing has been heard of theuprising. 

At times during the four slow-moving months, however, the situationbecame, as I shall endeavor to show, complicated in every way. Theescape of the foreigners was made absolutely impossible by the fact thatthe whole of the roads, even those over the rough mountains leadingsouth, were blocked successfully by the rebelling forces, and, when thedeep gloom settled finally over the city, the fate of the Westernersseemed sealed and their future hopeless. All round the foreigners'houses the people, infected with that strange, unaccountable, nationalhysteria, so terrible in the Chinese temperament, rose up to burn andkill. Mayhap it means little to the man who reads. Massacres have alwaysbeen common enough in China, he will say; and there are thousands ofpeople in Europe to-day who know no more about China than what thetelegrams of massacres of European missionaries have told them. Yearsago one almost expected this sort of thing; but at the present day, whenChina is popularly supposed to be working honestly to gain for herselfan honorable place among the nations, it is surely not to be expected inthe ordinary run of things in days of peace. 

But we know that such visions are common to every European in InlandChina, and even at the coast men talk continually of and believe thatriots are going to happen in the near future. Merchant, missionary, traveler and official all agree that there is yet more trouble aheadbefore the West will be won into the confidence of China and _viceversa_. The people who are studying the Reform Movement of the YoungChina, however, and who stolidly refuse to study with it the generalattitude of the common people, laugh and dismiss with contempt thesubject of the possibility of further outbreaks of Boxerism in theoutlying parts of the Empire. But they should not laugh. The Europeancannot afford to laugh, and, if he be a sensible fellow, knows that hecannot afford to treat with contempt the opinions of the people whoknow. The more we understand the vast interior of China and theconservatism and peculiarities of character of the people of thatinterior, the less disposed shall we be to jest, the less disposed toridicule, what I would characterize as the strongest and most deadly ofthe hidden menaces of the Celestial Empire. 

One does not wish to be pessimistic, but it is foolish to close one'seyes to bare fact. 

At the moment I am writing, in the middle of China, I know that I amsafe enough here, but I do not disguise from myself that the wildestreports are still current within a quarter of a mile from me about meand my own kind in this peaceful city of Tong-ch'uan-fu. And it takesvery little to light the fuse and to cause a terrible explosion here, incommon with other places in this province. A man might be quite safe oneday and lose his head the next if he did not, at times when therebellious element is apparent, conform strictly to the general wishesand accepted customs of the people among whom he is living. 

No, we cannot afford to laugh. We must seek the opinion of those peoplewho were confined within the walls of Chao-t'ong city--the silence oftheir own homes broken up by the distant uproar of a frantic chorus ofyells and angry disputations, sounding, as it were, their verydeath-knell, as if they were to form a manacled procession draggingtheir chains of martyrdom to their own slow doom--before we showcontempt for the opinion of those who would tell the truth. There ismore of Boxerism in the far-away interior parts of China than we knowof. 

Even as late as the middle of January of the year 1910 there was norumor of any uprising. About this time, however, to supply a seriousdeficiency in the revenue caused by the dropping of the opium tax, sincethat drug had ceased to be grown, a general poll-tax was levied, whichthe people refused to pay, and at the same time they demanded that theybe allowed again to grow the poppy. Among the population ofChao-t'ong-fu, or more particularly among the people around the city, especially the tribespeople, this additional tax was supposed to havebeen caused by the Europeans, and other wild rumors concerning theTonkin-Yün-nan Railway (to be opened in the following April), whichgained currency with remarkable rapidity, added to the unrest. Itrequired only that brilliant phenomenon of the heavens, with itswonderful tail--none other than Halley's Comet--to bring the whole to aclimax. This was altogether too much for the superstitious Chinese, andhe looked upon the comet as some evil omen organized and controlled bythe foreigner especially for the working of his own selfish ends in theCelestial Empire; and a number believed it to be a heavenly sign for theChinese to strike. 

That the riot was being started was plain, but the first definite newsthe foreigners received was on February 5th, when an I-pien (one of thetribes), whose little girl attended the mission school, was capturedand compelled to join the rebelling forces between T'o-ch-i (on theRiver of Golden Sand[O]) and Sa'i-ho, in a westerly direction from thetown. A march would take place on the fifteenth of that month, theEuropeans would be assassinated, their houses would be burned andlooted--so ran the rumor. By this date, for two days' march in alldirections from Chao-t'ong, the rebels had camped, and a motley crowdthey were--Mohammendans, Chinese, I-pien, Hua Miao, and other hooligans. Mobilization was effected by spies taking round secret cases (the_ch'uandan_) containing two pieces of coal and a feather--a similemeaning that the rebels were to burn like fire and fly like birds. Meanwhile, military forces had been dispatched from Yün-nan-fu, thecapital (twelve days away), and from Ch'u-tsing-fu (seven or eight daysaway), and these, to the strength of a thousand, now came to the city, and it was thought that the brigadier-general would be able to cope withthe trouble now that he had so many armed troops. Soldiers patrolled thecity walls (which, by the way, had to be built up so that the soldiersmight be able to get decent patrol), more were stationed on the premisesof the Europeans, and every defensive precaution was taken. Theofficials were in daily communication by telegraph with the Viceroy, andat first the riot was kept well in hand by Government authorities. 

But the rebels had by this time got together no less than three thousandmen, and were holding three impregnable positions on the adjacent hills, and had effectually cut off communication by the main road. Despitetheir numbers, they were afraid to strike, however, and lucky it was forthe city that the leaders were not sufficiently trusted by theirfollowers, many of them pressed men--men who had joined the rebellingranks merely to save their own necks and their houses. At this time the_pen-fu_ (a sort of mayor of the city) demanded that the missionariesworking among the Hua Miao, and two lady workers paying a visit to thatplace, should return from Shïh-men-K'an (70 li away), as he could notprotect them in the country. A special messenger was dispatched, demanding instant departure, and in the dead of night--a bitter wintrynight, icy, dark, slippery, and cold--these ladies came under cover tothe city. 

They reached the mission premises without molestation. 

By this time a new _ch'en-tai_ (brigadier-general) had arrived from thecapital, having been sent as a man who could handle the situationsuccessfully. He was a Liu Ta Ren, who had previously held office in thecity, and whose cunning a Scotland Yard detective might envy. [P]

Rumors grew more and more serious; the mandarins went all round thecountryside endeavoring to pacify the people, and the foreigners coulddo nothing but "sit tight" through these most trying days. The suspenseof being shut up in one's house during a time of trouble of this nature, hearing every rumor which lying tongues create, and unable to get at thefacts, is far worse than being in the thick of things, although thiswould have at once been fatal. But one needs to have lived in Chinaduring such a time to understand the awful tension which riotsoccasion. 

The rioters were stationed as follows:--

 1. Weining, in Kwei-chow, to the southeast 1, 000 men

 2. Kiang-ti Hill, in Yün-nan, to the south 1, 000 men

 3. Several places around the city, to the west as far as the River of Golden Sand 1, 000 men

On March 13th a night attack was expected. Breathless, the foreignerswaited in their suspense, but it passed off without serious damage beingdone. On the Sunday, the missionaries, almost at their wits' end withmingled fear and excitement, occasioned by the strain which weeks ofanxiety must bring to the strongest, feared whether their services wouldbe got through in peace. 

Meetings were being held all around the city, and gradually themandarins gained small successes. Prisoners--miserable specimens of menfighting for they hardly knew what--were captured and brought to thecity, and, on March 16th, sixteen human heads, thrown in one gruesomemass into a common basket, with upturned eyes gaping into the greatunknown, hideous-looking and bearing still the brutish stare ofhysterical craving and morbid rage, were carried by an armed squad ofmilitary to the _yamen_. 

They made a ghastly picture when hung over the gate of the city to putthe fear of death into the hearts of their brutal compatriots. Theofficials, hard-worked and themselves feeling the strain of the wholebusiness, and incidentally fearful for the safety of their own heads, were perturbed all this time by rumors coming from Weining, themutineers of which were alleged to be the fiercest of the three bands. Up to now the officials had been playing a conciliating game. They hadbeen trying vainly to pacify, but now they found that they had to provetheir energies and their benevolence by acting the part of tyrantsrather than of administrators of mercy, by warring rather than bypeace-making, by fighting and forcing rather than by conciliating andpersuading. 

On Easter Tuesday, fighting took place on the main road to the north, when the _pen-fu_ and his men achieved a creditable success. The rebelsalmost to a man were taken, and among the prisoners was a girl who hadbeen distributing the beans, a lovely damsel of eighteen, said to havebeen the fiancée of the leader of that band. Both her legs were shotthrough and she was considerably mutilated; but although the _pen-fu_thought this sufficient punishment, instructions came from the capitalthat she must die. She was accordingly taken outside the city andbeheaded. This caused some consternation among the rebels, as the deathof the girl was looked upon as an omen of direct misfortune. 

For a very long time she had been going around the country droppingbeans into the ground outside any houses she came across, thesuperstition being that wherever a bean was dropped there in the veryspot, perhaps at the very moment, for aught that we know, an invinciblewarrior would spring up. She had dropped some millions of beans, but theranks were not swelled as a consequence. 

The _ch'en-tai_ had also been out all night, and as men were captured sothey were beheaded on the spot without mercy and their headssubsequently hung outside the city gates. The headman of a smallvillage--some forty li from the city--succeeded in capturing one of theleaders, and great credit was due to him; but soon the leader wasrescued again by his followers, who then brutally killed and mutilatedthe body of the headman, causing him to undergo the ignominy of havinghis tongue and his heart cut out. Fighting was going on everywhere, andby the end of March things were at their height. The fact that rain wasbadly needed tended only to aggravate the situation, and that lustrouscomet made things worse. Day by day miserable processions brought thewounded into the city, and the last day of the month, taken by suddenfright and almost getting out of hand, the panic-stricken people raisedthe cry that the rebels were marching direct for the city gates. Throughthe capital tactics adopted by the mandarins, however, this wasprevented; but, on the following day, the chapel belonging to the UnitedMethodist Mission at an out-station was burnt to the ground and thehouses of the people razed and looted. The caretaker, a faithful HuaMiao convert, was taken, stripped of his clothing, and threatened withan awful death if he did not betray the foreigners. He refused manfullyto divulge any information whatsoever, and was on the point of beingsacrificed, when the _ch'en-tai_ came unexpectedly upon the scene withhis military. He released the Miao, captured thirty-six rebels, killedsixteen more where they stood, and carried away many of their horses andthe dreaded Boxer flag around which the men rallied. 

And now comes the smartest thing I heard of throughout the rebellion. 

A man named Li was the most dreaded of the trio of rebel chiefs, a manof marvelous strength, and who seemed to be able to fascinate his menand get them to do anything he wished--and Liu, the _ch'en-tai_, sethimself the task of capturing him. Disguising himself in the garb of apedlar, Liu went out towards Li's camp, and met three spies on thelook-out for a possible clue to the foreigners; they asked him where the_ch'en-tai_ was and all about him, declaring that if he did not tellthem all he knew they would take him to Li, and that he would then losehis head. Just behind were a few of Liu's best soldiers. Strolling upquite casually as if they knew least in the world of what was going on, they made their arrest, and clapped the handcuffs on them before theircaptives knew it. Liu ordered that two be beheaded immediately, whichwas done, and the other man was kept to show where Li's camp was andwhere Li himself was hiding. 

And in this way Li the Invincible was captured also. This was themaster-stroke of the situation. Li was brought back to the city withmany other prisoners and a few heads, guarded by a strong body of themilitary. 

Almost simultaneously, Huang, one of the other rebel chiefs, wascaptured; and at dusk one evening Li was put to death by the slowprocess. Afraid that if he were taken outside the city his followersmight possibly re-capture him, he was murdered outside the chief_yamen_, about ten hacks being necessary by process adopted to sever thehead from the body. Only two men have been put to death inside the wallssince the city of Chao-t'ong was built, over two hundred years ago. After death had taken place, Li was served in the same way as he hadserved the village headman, and his heart and his tongue were taken fromhis body. Huang was killed in the usual way, and his head placed in aframe on the city gate. 

And so there died two of the bravest men who have headed rebellions inthis part of country of late years. Both were handsome fellows, ofmagnificent physique and undaunted courage, worthy of fighting for abetter cause. It seemed so strange that two such men should have had todie in the very bloom of life, when every strong sinew and drop of bloodmust have rebelled at such premature dissolution, and by a death morehideous than imagination can depict or speech describe, just at a timein China's awakening when such fellows might have made for the upliftingof their country. And they died because they hated the foreigner. 

After further desultory fighting, the remaining leader, losing heart, fled into Kwei-chow province, and for a time was allowed to wander away;but later, a sum of a thousand taels was offered for him, dead or alive, and I have no doubt of the reward proving too great a bait for hisfollowers. He has probably been given up. [Q] In the month of May theMiao people rose to prolong the rioting, but their efforts did not cometo much, although guerilla warfare was prolonged for several weeks, andBritish subjects were not allowed to travel over the main road beyondTong-ch'uan-fu for some time after; indeed, as I write (July 1st, 1910), permission for the missionaries to move about is still withheld. 

Then, following the rebellion, rumors spread all over the province tothe effect that the foreigners were on the look-out for children, andwere buying up as many as they could get at enormous prices to _ch'i_the railway to Yün-nan-fu, which by this time had been opened to thepublic. Daily were little children brought to the missionaries andoffered for sale. Child-stealing became common; the greatest unrestprevailed again. Members of the Christian churches suffered persecution, and adherents kept at a safe distance. Scholars forsook the missionschools. Foreigners cautiously kept within their own premises as much asthey could. Mission work was at a standstill, and all looked once moregrave enough. Two women, caught in the act of stealing children atChao-t'ong, were taken to the _yamen_, hung in cages for a time as awarning to others, and then made to walk through the streets shouting, "Don't steal children as I have; don't steal children as I have. " Ifthey stopped yelling, soldiers scourged them. 

A man was lynched in the public streets in that city for stealing achild, and only by the adoption of the most stringent measures, which inEngland would be considered barbaric, were the mandarins ablesuccessfully to deal with the rumors and the trouble thereby caused. Even far away down on the Capital road, children ran from me, andmothers, catching sight of me, would cover up their little ones and runaway from me behind barred doors, so that the foreigner should not getthem. 

This latter trouble was felt pretty well throughout the length andbreadth of Yün-nan, and it must have been very disappointing toChristian missionaries who had been working around the districts ofTong-ch'uan-fu and Chao-t'ong-fu for over twenty years, and had got intoclose contact with scores of men and women, to see these very peopletaking away their children so that they should not be bought up by thevery missionaries whose ministrations they had listened to for years. 

In course of time, things settled down again, but at the time mymanuscript leaves me for the publisher the danger zone has not beengreatly reduced. 

In concluding my few remarks on this serious outbreak, the like of whichit is to be hoped will not be seen again in this province, it is onlyfair to chronicle the excellent behavior of the Chinese officials and ofthe Viceroy of Yün-nan in dealing with the situation. Although he isnot, I believe, generally liked by the people as their ruler, Li ChinHsi did all he could to quell the riots speedily, and saw to it that allthe officials in whose districts the rebellion was raging, and who madeblunders during its progress, were degraded in rank. It is difficult forEuropeans thoroughly to grasp the situation. From Chao-t'ong toYün-nan-fu, the viceregal seat, is twelve days' hard going, and allcommunication was done by telegraph--seemingly easy enough; but one mustnot discount the slow Chinese methods of doing things. Most of thetroops were twelve days away, and in China--in backward Yün-nanespecially--to mobilize a thousand men and march them over mountains afortnight from your base is not a thing to be done at a moment'snotice. By the time they would arrive, it might have been possible forall the foreigners to have been massacred and their premises demolished, especially as the exits were blocked on all sides. But no time was lostand no pains were saved; and although the Chao-t'ong foreign residents, who suffered in suspense more than most missionaries are called upon tosuffer, may differ with me in this opinion, I believe that not one ofthe officials who took part in endeavors to keep the riots from assumingmore actually dangerous proportions could have done more than was done. If a man neglected his duty he lost his button, and he deserved nothingelse. 

In Mr. P. O'Brien Butler, the able British Consul-General, the Britishsubjects had the greatest confidence. He might have erred in havingdeclined from harassing the Chinese Foreign Office to grant permissionand protection to Britishers who wished to travel after the leaders ofthe rebellion had been captured, but he undoubtedly erred on the rightside. 

An unfortunate incident for the United Methodist missionaries was thefact that the Rev. Charles Stedeford, who was sent out by the Connexionto visit the whole of the mission fields, was able to come only so faras Tong-ch'uan-fu, and was forced to return to Europe without havingseen any of the magnificent work among the Hua Miao. 

After my manuscript went forward to my publishers, permission to traveland protection were granted to British subjects again on the main roadleading up to the Yangtze Valley. The author was the first Britisher togo from Tong-ch'uan-fu to Chao-t'ong-fu, and as I write, as late as themiddle of July, 1910, I am of the opinion that it is unwise to travelover this road for a long time to come, unless it is absolutelyimperative to do so. At Kiang-ti I had considerable trouble in gettinga place to sleep, and I was glad when I had passed Tao-üen. 

At the invitation of missionaries working among them, I then spent somemonths in residence and travel in Miaoland, and only regret that anextended account of my experiences is not possible. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote N: July, 1910. ]

[Footnote O: The local name for the Yangtze. ]

[Footnote P: This Liu was a remarkable man, quite unlike the averagemandarin. He got the name of Liu Ma Pang, a disrespectful term, meaningthat he was fond of using the stick. On a journey towards Chao-t'ong, some years ago, he went on ahead of his retinue of men and horses, andarriving at an inn at Tong-ch'uan-fu, asked the _ta si fu_--the generalfactotum--for the best room, and proceeded to walk into it. "No youdon't, " yelled the _ta si fu_, "that's reserved for Liu Ma Pang, andyou're not to go in there. " After some time Liu's men arrived, andcalling one or two, he said, "Take this man" (pointing to the surprised_ta si fu_) "and give him a sound thrashing. " He stood by and saw thewhacking administered, after which he said, "That's for speakingdisrespectfully of a mandarin. " Then, "Give him a thousand cash, "adding, "That's for knowing your business. "

Some years ago Liu was the means of saving the life of the late Mr. Litton (mentioned later in this book), at the time he was British Consulat Tengyueh, when there was fighting down in the south of Yün-nan withthe Wa's. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote Q: He was captured some months afterwards, I believe, atMengtsz. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER X. 

THE TRIBES OF NORTH-EAST YÜN-NAN, AND MISSION WORK AMONG THEM

Men who came through Yün-nan twenty years ago wrote of its doctors andits medicines, its poverty and its infanticide. There seemed little elseto speak of. 

Although the tribes were here then--and in a rawer state even then thanthey are at the present time--little was known about them, and men hadnot yet developed the cult of putting their opinions upon this mostabsorbing topic into print. To-day, however, scores of men in Europe areeagerly devouring every line of copy they can get hold of bearing uponthis fascinating ethnological study. Missionaries are plagued byinquiries for information respecting the tribes of Western China, and itis a curious feature of the situation that, with each article or bookcoming before the public contradiction follows contradiction, and veryfew people--not even those resident in the areas and working among thetribes--can agree absolutely upon any given points in their data. Thenumerous non-Chinese tribes I met in China formed one of the mostinteresting, and at the same time most bewildering, features of mytravel; and I can quite agree with Major H. R. Davies, [R] who tackles thetribe question with considerable ability in his book on Yün-nan, when hesays that it is safe to assert that in hardly any part of the world isthere such a large variety of languages and dialects as are to be foundin the country which lies between Assam and the eastern border ofYün-nan, and in the Indo-Chinese countries to the north of that region. The reason for it is generally ascribed to the physical characteristicsof the country, the high mountain ranges and deep, swift-flowing rivers, which have brought about the differences in customs and language and theinnumerable tribal distinctions so perplexing to him who would puthimself in the position of an inquirer into Indo-Chinese ethnology. Iknow more than one gentleman in Yün-nan at the present moment havingunder preparation manuscript upon this subject intended for subsequentpublication, and I feel sure that their efforts will add valuableinformation to the all too limited supply now obtainable. In themeantime, I print my own impressions. 

I should like it to be known here, however, that I do not in any waywhatsoever put myself forward as an authority on the question. I hadnot, at the time this was written, laid myself out to make any study ofthe subject. But the fact that I have lived in North-East Yün-nan for ayear and a half, and have traveled from one end of the province to theother, in addition to having come across tribes of people in Szech'wan, may justify me in the eyes of the reader for placing on record my ownimpressions as a general contribution to this most exciting discussion. I also lived at Shïh-men-K'an (mentioned in the last chapter), among theHua Miao for several months, traveled fairly considerably in theunsurveyed hill country where they live, and am the only man, apart fromtwo missionaries, who has ever been over that wonderful country lying tothe extreme north-east of Yün-nan. One trip I made, extending over threeweeks, will ever remain with me as a memorable time, but I regret that Ihave no space in this volume for even the merest reference to myjourney. 

Some of my friends in China might say sarcastically that mankind isdestined to arrive at years of discretion, and that I should have knownbetter than to include in my book anything, however well founded, of anature tending to continue the wordy strife touching this vexed questionof Mission Work, and that no matter how strikingly set forth, this is anold and obsolete story, fit only to be finally done with. It is for suchto bear with me in what I shall say. There are thousands of men in theWest who are entirely ignorant of men in China other than the ordinary_Han Ren_, and if I enlighten them ever so little, then this chapterwill have served an admirable end. 

In North-East Yün-nan the tribes I came most in contact with were:--

(i) The Miao or Miao-tze, as the Chinese call them; or the Mhong orHmao, as they call themselves. 

(ii) The I-pien (or E-pien), as the Chinese call them; or the Nou Su (orNgo Su), as they call themselves. 

Probably the Nou Su tribes are what Major Davies calls the Lolo Group inhis third division of the great Tibeto-Burman Family; but I merelysuggest it, as it strikes me that the other branches of that group, including the Li-su, the La-hu, and the Wo-ni, seem to be descendants ofa larger group, of which the Nou Su predominate in numbers, language, and customs. However, this by the way. 

It may not be common knowledge that in most parts of the Chinese Empire, even to-day, there are tribes of people, essentially non-Chinese, whostill rigidly maintain their independence, governed by their own nativerulers as they were probably forty centuries ago, long before theirkingdoms were annexed to China Proper. There are white bones and blackbones, noses long and flattened, eyes straight and oblique, swarthyfaces, faces yellow and white, coal-black and brown hair, and manyother physical peculiarities differentiating one tribe from another. 

In many instances, these tribes, conquered slowly by the encroachingChinese during the long and tedious term of centuries marking the growthof the Chinese Empire to its present immensity, are allowed to maintaintheir social independence under their own chiefs, who are subject to thecontrol of the Government of China--which means that excessive taxationis paid to the _yamen_ functionary, who extorts money from anybody andeverybody he can get into his clutches, and then gives a free hand. Others, in a further state of civilization, have been gradually absorbedby the Chinese and are now barely distinguishable from the _Han Ren_(the Chinese). And others, again, adopting Chinese dress, customs andlanguage, would give the traveler a rough time of it were he to suggestthat they are any but pure Chinese. To the ethnological student, it isobvious that so soon as the Chinese have tyrannized sufficiently and intheir own inimitable way preyed upon these feudal landlords enough towarrant their lands being confiscated, reducing a tribe to a conditionin which, far removed from districts where co-tribesmen live, they haveno _status_, the aboriginals throw in their lot gradually with theChinese, and to all intents and purposes become Chinese in language, customs, trade and life. This absorption by the Chinese of many tribes, stretching from the Burmese border to the eastern parts of Szech'wan, whilst an interesting study, shows that the onward march of civilizationin China will sweep all racial relicts from the face of this greatawakening Empire. 

But at the same time there are many branches of a tribal family, somefound as far west as British Burma and all more or less scattered anddisorganized as the result of this silent oppression going on throughthe years, who still are ambitious of preserving their independentisolation, particularly in sparsely-populated spheres far removed frompolitical activity. So remote are the districts in which theseprincipalities are found, that the Chinese themselves are entirelyignorant of the characteristics of these tribes. They say of one tribewhich is scattered all over China Far West that they all have tails; andof another tribe that the men and women have two faces! And into theofficial records published by the Imperial Government the grossestinaccuracies creep concerning the origin of these peoples. 

Yün-nan and Szech'wan--and a great part of Kwei-chow in the main stilluntouched by the increased taxation necessary to provide revenue touphold the reforms brought about by the forward movement in variousparts of the Empire--are where the aboriginal population is mostevident. This part of the Empire might be called the ethnological gardenof tribes and various races in various stages of uncivilization. Thesesecluded mountain areas, their unaltered conditions still telling forththe story of the world's youth, have been the cradle and the death-bedof nations, of vigorous and ambitious tribes bent on conquest and acareer of glory. 

THE MIAO

Of the Miao, with its various sections, we know a good deal. Their realhome has been pretty finally decided to be in Kwei-chow province, andthey probably in former times extended far into Hu-nan, the Chinese ofthese provinces at the present time having undoubtedly a good deal ofMiao blood in their veins. They are comparatively recent arrivals inYün-nan, but are gradually extending farther and farther to the west, maintaining their language and their dress and customs. I personallyfound them as far west as thirty miles beyond Tali-fu, a little off themain road, but Major Davies found them far up on the Tibetan border. Hesays: "The most westerly point that I have come across them is theneighborhood of Tawnio (lat. 23° 40', long. 98° 45'). Through Centraland Northern Yün-nan they do not seem to exist, but they reappear againto the north of this in Western Szech'wan, where there are a fewvillages in the basin of the Yalung River (lat. 28° 15', long. 101°40'). "

The Major was evidently ignorant of this Miao district of Chao-t'ong, tothe north-east of the province. Stretching three days fromTong-ch'uan-fu right away on to Chao-t'ong, in a north line, Miaovillages are met with fairly well the whole way; then, three days fromTong-ch'uan-fu, in a north-westerly direction, we come to the Miaovillage of Loh-Ïn-shan; and then, striking south-west, through countryabsolutely unsurveyed part of the way, Sa-pu-shan is met. This lastplace is the headquarters of the China Inland Mission, where, at thepresent rate of progress, one might modestly estimate that in twentyyears there will be no less than a million people receiving Christianteaching. These are not all Miao, however; there are besides La-ka, Li-su, and many other tribes with which we have no concern at thepresent moment. 

So that it may be seen that from Yün-nan-fu, the capital, in areas oneither side of the main road leading up to the bifurcation of theYangtze below Sui-fu, in a long, narrow neck running between the Riverof Golden Sand and the Kwei-chow border, Miao are met with constantly. And then, of course, over the river, in Szech'wan, they are met withagain, and in Kwei-chow, farther west, we have their real home. 

It is a far cry from Miao-land to Malaysia, but as I get into closercontact with the Miao people, the more do I find them in many commonways of everyday customs and points of character akin to the Malays andthe Sakai (the jungle hill people of the Malay Peninsula), among whom Ihave traveled. Their modes of living contain many points in common. Ethnologists probably may smile at this assertion, the same as I, whohave lived among the Miao, have smiled at a good deal which has comefrom the pens of men who have not. 

In this area there are two great branches of the Miao race:--

(i) The Hua Miao--The Flowery (or White) Miao. 

(ii) The Heh Miao--The Black Miao. 

(Many photographs of the Hua Miao are reproduced in this volume. )

The latter are considered as the superior of the two sections, speak adifferent tongue, and differ more or less widely in their methods, dressand customs, a study of which would lead one into a lifetime ofinterminable disquisitions, at the end of which one would be little moreenlightened. Those who wish to study the question of inter-racialdifferences of the Miao are referred to Mr. Clarke's _Kwei-chow andYün-nan Provinces_, Prince Henri d'Orleans' _Du Tonkin aux Indes_, andMr. Baber's works. Major Davies also gives some new informationconcerning this hill people, and is generally correct in what he says;but in his, as in all the books which touch upon the subject, thelanguage tests vary considerably. In Chao-t'ong and the surroundingdistricts, for instance, the traveler would be unable to make anyprogress with the vocabulary which the Major has compiled. I was unableto make it tally with the spoken language of the people, and append atable showing the differences in the phonetic--and I do it with allrespect to Major Davies. I ought to add that this is the language of thenorth-east corner of Yün-nan; that of Major Davies is taken from page339 of his book. He says that the words given by him will not be foundto correspond in every case with those in the Miao vocabulary in thepocket of the cover of his book, and some have been taken from otherMiao dialects!. However, the comparison will be interesting:--

 N-E. Yün-nan English Word Major Davies's Miao Miao

 Man (human being) Tan-neng, Tam-ming Teh-neh. 

 Son To, T'am-t'ong Tu. 

 Eye K'a-mwa, Mai A-ma. 

 Hand Api Tee. 

 Cow Nyaw, Nga Niu. 

 Pig Teng Npa. 

 Dog Klie, Ko Klee. 

 Chicken Ka, Kei Ki. 

 Silver Nya Nieh. 

 River Tiang Glee. 

 Paddy Mblei Nglee. 

 Cooked Rice Mao Va. 

 Tree Ndong Ntao. 

 Fire To Teh. 

 Wind Chwa, Chiang Chta. 

 Earth Ta Ti. 

 Sun Hno, Nai Hnu. 

 Moon Hla Hlee. 

 Big Hlo Hlo. 

 Come Ta Ta. 

 Go Mong Mao. 

 Drink Ho Hao. 

 One A, Yi Ih. 

 Two Ao Ah. 

 Three Pie, Po Tsz. 

 Four Pei, Plou Glao. 

 Five Pa Peh. 

 Six Chou Glao. 

 Seven Shiang, I Shiang. 

 Eight Yi, Yik Yih. 

 Nine Chio Chia. 

 Ten Ch'it Kao. 

The Miao language was until a year or two ago only spoken; it was neverwritten, and no one ever dreamed that it could be written. At the timeof the great Miao revival, when thousands of Miao made a raid on themission premises at Chao-t'ong, and implored the missionaries to comeand teach them, it was found absolutely necessary that the languageshould be reduced to writing, and the whole of this extremely creditablework fell to the Rev. Samuel Pollard, who may be characterized as thepioneer of this Christianizing movement in North-East Yün-nan. 

In reducing the language to writing, however, considerable difficultywas complicated by the presence of "tones, " so well known to allstudents of Chinese, itself said to be an invention of the Devil. Tonesintroduce another element or dimension into speech. The number ofsounds, not being sufficient for the reproduction of all the spokenideas, has been multiplied by giving these various sounds in differenttones. It is as if the element of music were introduced according torule into speech, and as if one had not only to remember the words ineverything he wished to say, but the tune also. 

The Miao people being so low down in the intellectual scale, and havingnever been accustomed to study, it was felt by the promoters of thewritten language that they should be as simple as possible, and hencethey looked about for some system which could be readily grasped bythese ignorant people. It was necessary that the system be absolutelyphonetic and understood easily. By adapting the system used inshorthand, of putting the vowel marks in different positions by the sideof the consonant signs, Mr. Pollard and his assistant found that theycould solve their problem. The signs for the consonants are larger thanthe vowel signs, and the position of the latter by the side of theformer gives the tone or musical note required. 

At the present time there are thousands of Miao now able to read andwrite, and the work of this enterprising missionary has conferred aninestimable boon upon this people. When I went among the Miao I wasable, after ten minutes' instruction, to stand up and sing their hymnsand read their gospels with them. Miao women, who heretofore had neverhoped to read, are now put in possession of the Word of God, and thesimplicity of the written language enables them almost at once to readthe Story of the Cross. Surely this is one of the outstanding featuresof mission work in the whole of China. I hope at some future date topublish a work devoted exclusively to my travels among the Hua Miao, forI feel that their story, no matter how simply written, is one of thegreat untold romances of the world. As a people, they are extremelyfascinating in life and customs, emotional, large-hearted, andabsolutely distinct from, with hardly a manner of daily life in commonwith, the Chinese. 

MISSION WORK AMONG THE MIAO

Whilst referring to mission work, it is a great privilege for the writerto add a word of most deserved eulogy of the United Methodist Mission atChao-t'ong and Tongi-ch'uan-fu, and to the kindness shown by themissionaries towards me when I came, an absolute stranger, among them inMay, 1909. It is to two members of this Mission that I owe a life-longdebt of gratitude, for it was Mr. And Mrs. Evans, of Tong-ch'uan-fu, whosaved my life, a week or two after I left Chao-t'ong, as is recorded ina subsequent chapter. 

It was in the old days of the Bible Christian Mission--than which theindividual members of no mission in the whole of China worked with morezeal and lower stipends--that a most interesting development in themission took place. 

The mass of the Miao are the serfs of the descendants of their ancientkings, who are large landowners, and the Miao are tenants. In 1905 theMiao heard of the Gospel, and came to listen to the preaching, andthousands came in batches at one time and another to the mission house. Their movements thus aroused suspicion among the Chinese, there was agood deal of persecution and personal violence, and at one time itlooked as if there might be serious trouble. But the danger quieteddown. The chieftain gave land, the Miao contributed one hundred poundssterling, and themselves put up a chapel large enough to accommodate sixhundred people. A year later, a thousand at a time crowded their simplesanctuary, and in 1907 nearly six thousand were members or probationers, and the work has steadily progressed ever since. 

I am indebted to the Rev. H. Parsons, who had charge of the work at thetime I passed through this district, and whose guest I was for severalmonths, for the following interesting details regarding the methodsadopted in the running of this enormous mission field. Mr. Parsons isassisted in his work by his genial wife, who is a most ardent worker, and a capable Miao linguist. Mrs. Parsons regularly addressescongregations of several hundreds of Miao, and has traveled on journeysoften with her husband; and such work as hers, with several others inthis mission, is a testimony to the wisdom of a system advocating theincrease of the number of lady workers on the mission field in China. 

THE NOU-SU (OR I-PIEN)

There is a class of people around Chao-t'ong who are called Nou-su, apeople who, although occupying the Chao-t'ong Plain at the time theChinese arrived, are believed not to be the aboriginals of the district. What I actually know about this people is not much. I have heard a gooddeal, but it must not be understood that I publish this as absolutelythe final word. People who have lived in the district for many years donot agree, so that for a mere traveler the task of getting infallibledata would be quite formidable. 

No tribe is more widely known than the Nou-su, with their innumerabletribal distinctions and hereditary peculiarities so perplexing to theinquirer into Far Western China ethnology. 

The Nou-su are a very fine, tall race, with comparatively faircomplexions, suggesting a mixture of Mongolian with some otherstraight-featured people. Of their origin, however, little can bevouched for, and with it we will have nothing to do here. But at thepresent time the Nou-su provide a good deal of interest from the factthat their power as tyrannic landlords and feudal chiefs is fast dying, and it may be that in a couple of decades, or a still shorter time, apeople who, by obstinate self-reliance and great dislike to the Chinese, have remained unaffected by the absorbing spirit of the arbitraryChinese, will have passed beyond the vale of personality. Even now, however, they own and rule enormous tracts of country (notably that partlying on the right bank of the River of Golden Sand) in north-eastYün-nan. Some are very wealthy. One man may own vast tracts bigger thanYorkshire. In this tract there may be one hundred villages, all payingtribute to him and subject to the vagaries of his vilest despotism. Fromhis tyranny his struggling tenantry have no redress. So long as theI-pien (the local name of the Nou-su) greases the palm of the squeezingChinese mandarin in whose nominal control the district extends, he mayrun riot as he pleases. Social law and order are unknown, justice is acomplete contradiction in terms, and whilst one is in the midst of it, it is difficult to realize that in China to-day--the China which all theworld believes to be awakening--there exists a condition of things whichwill allow a man to torture, to plunder, to murder, and to indulge tothe utmost degree the whims of a Neronic and devilish temperament. 

Slave trading is common. If a tenant cannot pay his tribute, he sellshimself for a few taels and becomes the slave of his former landlord, and if he would save his head treads carefully. 

In the early days, when different clans were driven farther into thehills, they each clinched as much land as they could. In course of time, by petty quarrels, civil wars, and common feuds, the Nou-su weregradually thinned out. The Miao-tsi--the men of the hills and the serfsof the landlords, who four thousand years ago were a powerful race intheir own kingdom--became the tenants of the Nou-su, whose rule is stillmarked by the grossest infamy possible to be practiced on the humanrace. All the methods of torture which in the old days were associatedwith the Chinese are still in vogue, in many cases in an aggravatedform. I have personally seen the tortures, and have listened to thestories of the victims, but it would not bear description in print. 

It must not, however, be understood that to be a Nou-su is to be alandlord. By no means. For in the gradual process of the survival of thefittest, when the weaker landlords were murdered by their strongercompatriots and their lands seized, only a small percentage of the tribein this area have been able to hold sway. However, wherever there arelandlords in this part of the country, they are always Nou-su orChinese. The Miao--or, at least, the Hua Miao, own no lands, and arebody and soul in the tyrannic clutch of the tyrannic I-pien. Then, again, in the Nou-su tribe there are various hereditary distinctionsenabling a man to claim caste advantage. There are the Black Bones, asthey style themselves, the aristocrats of the race, and the White Bones, the lower breeds, who obey to the letter their wealthier brethren--oranybody who has authority over them. 

The Nou-su, who are a totally different race and a much better classthan the Miao, are believed to have been driven from the Chao-t'ongPlain, preferring migration to fighting, and many trekked across theYangtze (locally called the Kin-sha) river into country now marked ongood maps as the Man-tze country. It appears that the following are thetwo important branches:--

 (i) The Black (Na-su)--Farmers and landowners. 

 (ii) The White (Tu-su) Generally slaves. 

Other minor classes are:--

 (i) The Lakes (or Red Nou-su)--Mostly blacksmiths. 

 (ii) The A-u-tsï Mostly felt-makers, who rightly or wrongly claim relationship with the Chinese. 

 (iii) Another class, who are mostly basket-makers. 

The two great divisions, however, are the White and the Black. Thelatter class, themselves the owners of land, claim that all the Whitewere originally slaves, and that those who are now free have escaped atsome previous period from servitude. Men, as usual among such tribes, are scarcely distinguishable from the ordinary _Han Ren_. It is thewomen, with their peculiar head-dress and picturesque skirts, whomaintain the distinguishing features of the race. For the most part, theNou-su are not idolaters; no idols are in their houses. That portion ofthe tribe which migrated across the Yangtze, secure among the mountains, has never ceased to harass the Chinese, who now dwell on land which theNou-su themselves once tilled, or at least inhabited; but they have beendriven into remoter districts, and are only found away from the highwaysof Chinese travel. The race, too, is dying out--in this area at allevents--and the Nou-su themselves reckon that their numbers havedecreased by one-half during the last thirty years. This is one of thesaddest facts. The insanitation of their dwellings, their rough diet, and frequent riotings in wine, opium and other evils, are quicklyplaying havoc in their ranks, giving the strong the opportunity ofenriching themselves at the expense of the weak, with frequent fightingabout the division of land. 

Europeans who can speak the language of the Nou-su are numbered on thefingers of one hand. 

To one who has traveled in this neighborhood for any length of time, itmust be apparent that the unique method generally adopted by the Nou-su, that is, the landlord class, to get rich quickly is to kill off theirnext-door neighbor. The lives these men live with nothing but scandaland licentiousness to pass their time, are grossly and horribly wickedwhen viewed by the broadest-minded Westerner. They all live in fear oftheir lives, and are each afraid of the others, all entertaining asecret hatred, and all ever on the alert to devise some safe scheme tomurder the owner of some land they are anxious of annexing to theirown--and in the doing of the deed to save their own necks. If theysucceed, they are accounted clever men. As I write, I hear of a man, quite a youngster, himself an exceedingly wealthy man, who killed hisbrother and confiscated his property with no compunction whatever. Whentackled on the subject, he said he could do nothing else, for if he hadnot killed his brother his brother would have killed him

Yet there is no sense of crime as we of the West understand it, andnothing is feared from the Chinese law. A man kills a slave, tortureshim to death, and when the Chinese mandarin is appealed to, if he is atall, he looks wise and says, "I quite see your point, but I can donothing. The murdered man was the landlord's slave, " and, with a gentlewave of his three-inch finger-nail, he explains how a man may kill hisslave, his wife, or his son--and the law can do nothing. That is, if hecompensates the mandarin. 

A Nou-su looked upon a girl one day, when he was out collecting tribute. She was handsome, and he instructed his men to take her. She refused. Asum of one hundred ounces of silver was offered to anyone who wouldkidnap her and carry her off to his harem. Eventually he got the girl, and had her father tortured and then put to death because he would notdeliver his daughter over to him. Yet there is no redress. 

Nou-su women, their feet unbound, with high foreheads and well-cutfeatures, with fiery eyes set in not unkindly faces, tall and healthy, would be considered handsome women in any country in Europe. They rarelyintermarry with other tribes. A good deal of affection certainly existssometimes between husband and wife and between parents and children, butthe looseness of the marriage relation leads to unending strife. 

Many Europeans, travelers and missionaries, have been murdered in thecountry inhabited by the independent Lolo people. Although I have notpersonally been through any of that country, I have been on the veryoutskirts and have lived for a long time among the people there. I foundthem a pleasant hospitable race, fairly easy to get on with. And it mustnot be averred that, because they consider their natural enemy, theChinese, the man to be robbed and murdered, and because they kill offtheir fellow-landlords in order the more quickly to get rich, that theytreat all strangers alike. Among the Europeans who have suffered deathat their hands, it is probable that in some way the cause was traceableto their own bearing towards the people--either a total lack ofknowledge of their language or an attitude which caused suspicion. 

Among the Nou-su, strong as this feudal life still is, the Chinese arefast gaining permanent influence. Their dissolute and drunken andinhuman daily practices are tending to work out among this people theirown destruction, and in years to come in this neighborhood the travelerwill be perplexed at finding here and there a fine specimen of anupstanding Chinese, with clean-cut face, straight of feature andstraight of limb, with a peculiar Mongol look about him. He will be oneof the surviving specimens of a race of people, the Nou-su, whoseforgotten historical records would do much to clear up the doubtattaching to Indo-China and Tibet-Burma ethnology. 

The first Nou-su chieftain to come to Chao-t'ong, a man who was renownedas a tryannical brute, was one Ien Tsang-fu, who frequently gouged outthe eyes of those who disobeyed his commands; and his descendants aresaid to have inherited a good many of this tyrant's vices. The landlordsprey upon their weaker brethren, and at last, with infinite sagacity, the Chinese Government steps in to stop the quarrels, confiscates thewhole of the property, and thus reduces the Nou-su land to immediatecontrol of Chinese authorities. 

"The Nou-su are, of course, entirely dependent upon the land for theirliving. They till the soil and rear cattle, and the greatest calamitythat can come upon any family is that their land shall be taken fromthem. To be landless involves degradation as well as poverty, and verysevere hardship is the lot of men who have been deprived of this meansof subsistence. For those who own no land, but who are merely tenants ofthe Tu-muh, [S] there seems to be no security of tenure; but still, ifthe wishes and demands of the landlords are complied with, one familymay till the same farm for many successive generations. The terms onwhich land is held are peculiar. The rental agreed upon is nominal. Large tracts of country are rented for a pig or a sheep or a fowl, witha little corn per year. Beside this nominal rent, the landlord has theright to make levies on his tenants on all special occasions, such asfunerals, weddings, or for any other extraordinary expenses. He can alsorequire his tenants with their cattle to render services. This systemnecessarily leads to much oppression and injustice. It is also said thatif a family is hard pressed by a Tu-muh and reduced to extreme poverty, they will make themselves over to him on condition that a portion of hisland be given them to cultivate. Such people are called caught slaves, as distinguished from hereditary, and the eldest children become theabsolute property of the landlord and are generally given as attendantsupon his wife and daughters. 

"Every farmer owns a large number of slaves, who live in the samecompound as himself. These people do all the work of the farm, while themaster employs himself as his fancy leads him. Over these unfortunatepeople the owner has absolute control. All their affairs are managed byhim. His girl slaves he marries off to other men's slave boys, andsimilarly obtains wives for his male slaves. The lot of theseunfortunate people is hard beyond description. Being considered butlittle more valuable than the cattle they tend, the food given to themis often inferior to the corn upon which the master's horse is fed. Thecruel beatings and torturings they have been subject to have completelybroken their spirit, and now they seem unable to exist apart from theirmasters. Very seldom do any of them try to escape, for no one will givethem shelter, and the punishment awarded a recaptured slave is so severeas to intimidate the most daring. These poor folk are born in slavery, married in slavery, and they die in slavery. It is not uncommon to meetwith Chinese slaves, both boys and girls, in Nou-su families. These haveeither been kidnapped and sold, or their parents, unable to nourishthem, have bartered them in exchange for food. Their purchasers marrythem to Tu-su, and their lot is thrown in with the slave class. One'sheart is wrung with anguish sometimes as he thinks of what cruelty andwretchedness exist among the hills of this benighted district. Evenhere, however, light is beginning to shine, for some adherents of theChristian religion have changed their slaves into tenants, thus showingthe way to the ultimate solution of this difficult problem. 

"The life in a Nou-su household is not very complex. The cattle aredriven out early in the morning, as soon as the sun has risen. Theyremain out until the breakfast hour, and then return to the stables andrest during the heat of the day, going out again in the cool hours. Thefood of the household is prepared by the slaves, under the direction ofthe lady of the house. There is no refined cooking, for the Nou-sudespises well-cooked food, and complains that it never satisfies him. Hehas a couplet which runs: 'If you eat raw food, you become a warrior; ifyou eat it cooked, you suffer hunger. ' No chairs or tables are found ina genuine Nou-su house. The food is served up in a large bowl placed onthe floor. The family sit around, and each one helps himself with alarge wooden spoon. At the present time the refinements of Chinesecivilization have been adopted by a large number of Nou-su, and thehomes of the wealthier people are as well furnished as those of themiddle-class Chinese of the district. The women of the households alsospend much time making their own and their children's clothes. The menhave adopted Chinese dress, but the women, in most cases, retain theirtribal costume with its large turban-like head-dress, its plaited skirtand intricately embroidered coat. All this is made by hand, and thechoicest years of maidenhood are occupied in preparing the clothes forthe wedding-day. 

"The Nou-su, it would seem, used not to beg a wife, but rather obtainedher by main force. At the present day, while the milder method generallyprevails, there are still survivals of the ancient custom. The betrothaltruly takes place very early, even in infancy, and at the ceremony afowl is killed, and each contracting party takes a rib; but as the youngfolk grow to marriageable age, the final negotiations have to be made. These are purposely prolonged until the bridegroom, growing angry, gathers his friends and makes an attack on the maiden's home. Armingthemselves with cudgels, they approach secretly, and protecting theirheads and shoulders with their felt cloaks, they rush towards the house. Strenuous efforts are made by the occupants to prevent their entering, and severe blows are exchanged. When the attacking party has succeededin gaining an entrance, peace is proclaimed, and wine and huge chunks offlesh are provided for their entertainment. 

"Occasionally during these fights the maiden's home is quite dismantled. The negotiations being ended, preparations are made to escort the brideto her future home. Heavily veiled, she is supported on horseback by herbrothers, while her near relatives, all fully armed, attend her. Onarriving at the house, a scuffle ensues. The veil is snatched from thebride's face by her relatives, who do their utmost to throw it on to theroof, thus signifying that she will rule over the occupants when sheenters. The bridegroom's people on the contrary try to trample it uponthe doorstep, as an indication of the rigor with which the newcomer willbe subjected to the ruling of the head of the house. Much blood is shed, and people are often seriously injured in these skirmishes. The newbride remains for three days in a temporary shelter before she isadmitted to the home. A girl having once left her parent's home tobecome a wife, waits many years before she pays a return visit. Anciently the minimum time was three years, but some allow ten or moreyears to elapse before the first visit home is paid. Two or three yearsare then often spent with the parents. Many friends and relatives attendany visitor, for with the Nou-su a large following is considered a signof dignity and importance. When a child is born a tree is planted, withthe hope that as the tree grows so also will the child develop. 

"The fear of disease lies heavily upon the Nou-su people, and theirdisregard of the most elementary sanitary laws makes them very liable toattacks of sickness. They understand almost nothing about medicine, andconsequently resort to superstitious practices in order to ward off theevil influences. When it is known that disease has visited a neighbor'shouse, a pole, seven feet long, is erected in a conspicuous place in athicket some distance from the house to be guarded. On the pole an oldploughshare is fixed, and it is supposed that when the spirit whocontrols the disease sees the ploughshare he will retire to a distanceof three homesteads. 

"A fever called No-ma-dzï works great havoc among the Nou-su every year, and the people are very much afraid of it. No person will stay by thesick-bed to nurse the unfortunate victim. Instead, food and water areplaced by his bedside and, covered with his quilt, he is left at themercy of the disease. Since as the fever progresses the patient willperspire, heavy stones are placed on the quilt, that it may not bethrown off, and the sick person take cold. Many an unfortunate suffererhas through this strange practice died from suffocation. After a timethe relatives will return to see what course the disease has taken. Thisfever seems to yield to quinine, for Mr. John Li has seen severalpersons recover to whom he had administered this drug. When a man dies, his relatives, as soon as they receive the news, hold in their severalhomes a feast of mourning called by them the Za. A pig or sheep issacrificed at the doorway, and it is supposed that intercourse is thusmaintained between the living persons and the late departed spirit. Thenear kindred, on hearing of the death of a relative, take a fowl andstrangle it; the shedding of its blood is not permissible. This fowl iscleaned and skewered, and the mourner then proceeds to the house wherethe deceased person is lying, and sticks this fowl at the head of thecorpse as an offering. The more distant relatives do not perform thisrite, but each leads a sheep to the house of mourning, and the son ofthe deceased man strikes each animal three times with a white wand, while the Peh-mo (priest or magician) stands by, and announcing thesacrifice by calling 'so and so, ' giving of course the name, presentsthe soft woolly offering. 

"Formerly the Nou-su burned their dead. Said a Nou-su youth to me yearsago, 'The thought of our friends' bodies either turning to corruption orbeing eaten by wild beasts is distasteful to us, and therefore we burnour dead. ' The corpse is burnt with wood, and during the cremation themourners arrange themselves around the fire and chant and dance. Theashes are buried, and the ground leveled. This custom is still adheredto among the Nou-su of the independent Lolo territory or more correctlyPapu country of Western Szech'wan. The tribesmen who dwell in theneighborhood of Weining and Chao-t'ong have adopted burial as the meansof disposing of their dead, adding some customs peculiar to themselves. 

"On the day of the funeral the horse which the deceased man was in thehabit of riding is brought to the door and saddled by the Pehmo. Thecommand is then given to lead the horse to the grave. All the mournersfollow, and marching or dancing in intertwining circles, cross andrecross the path of the led horse until the poor creature, grown franticwith fear, rushes and kicks in wild endeavor to escape from theconfusion. The whole company then raise a great shout and call, 'Thesoul has come to ride the horse, the soul has come to ride the horse. ' Acontest then follows among the women of the deceased man's household forthe possession of this horse, which is henceforth regarded as of extremevalue. It is difficult to discover much about the religion of theNou-su, because so many of their ancient customs have fallen into disuseduring the intercourse of the people with the Chinese. At theingathering of the buckwheat, when the crop is stacked on the threshingfloor, and the work of threshing is about to begin, the simple formula, 'Thank you, Ilsomo, ' is used. Ilsomo seems to be a spirit who hascontrol over the crops; whether good or evil, it is not easy todetermine. Ilsomo is not God, for at present, when the Nou-su wish tospeak of God, they use the word Soe, which means Master. 

"In the independent territory of the Nou-su, to the west of Szech'wan, the term used for God is Eh-nia, and a Nou-su who has much intercoursewith the independent people contends that there are three namesindicative of God, each representing different functions if not personsof the Godhead. These names are: Eh-nia, Keh-neh, Um-p'a-ma. The Nou-subelieve in ancestor worship, and perhaps the most interesting feature oftheir religion is the peculiar form this worship takes. Instead of anancestral tablet such as the Chinese use, the Nou-su worship a smallbasket (lolo) about as large as a duck's egg and made of split bamboo. This 'lolo' contains small bamboo tubes an inch or two long, and asthick as an ordinary Chinese pen handle. In these tubes are fastened apiece of grass and a piece of sheep's wool. A man and his wife would berepresented by two tubes, and if he had two wives, an extra tube wouldbe placed in the 'lolo. ' At the ceremony of consecration the Pehmoattends, and a slave is set apart for the purpose of attending to allthe rites connected with the worship of the deceased person. The 'lolo'is sometimes placed in the house, but more often on a tree in theneighborhood or it may be hidden in a rock. For persons who areshort-lived, the ancestral 'lolo' is placed in a crevice in the wall ofsome forsaken and ruined building. Every three years the 'lolo' ischanged, and the old one burnt. The term 'lolo, ' by which the Nou-su aregenerally known, is a contemptuous nickname given them by the Chinese inreference to this peculiar method of venerating their ancestors. 

"Hill worship is another important feature of Nou-su religious life. Most important houses are built at the foot of a hill and sacrifice isregularly offered on the hill-side in the fourth month of each year. ThePehmo determines which is the most propitious day, and the Tumuh and hispeople proceed to the appointed spot. A limestone rock with an old treetrunk near is chosen as an altar, and a sheep and pig are broughtforward by the Tumuh. The Pehmo, having adjusted his clothes, sitscross-legged before the altar, and begins intoning his incantations in alow muttering voice. The sacrifice is then slain, and the blood pouredbeneath the altar, and a handful of rice and a lump of salt are placedbeneath the stone. Some person then gathers a bundle of green grass, andthe Pehmo, having finished intoning, the altar is covered, and allreturn to the house. The Pehmo then twists the grass into a length ofrope, which he hangs over the doorway of the house. Out of a piece ofwillow a small arrow is made, and a bow similar in size is cut out of apeach tree. These are placed on the doorposts. On a piece of soft whitewood a figure of a man is roughly carved, and this, with two sticks ofany soft wood placed cross-wise, is fastened to the rope hanging overthe doorway, on each side of which two small sticks are placed. ThePehmo then proceeds with his incantation, muttering: 'From now, henceforth and for ever will the evil spirits keep away from thishouse. '

"Most Nou-su at the present time observe the New Year festival on thesame date and with the same customs as the Chinese. Formerly this wasnot so, and even now in the remoter districts New Year's day is observedon the first day of the tenth month of the Chinese year. A pig and sheepare killed and cleaned, and hung in the house for three days. They arethen taken down, cut up and cooked. The family sit on buckwheat straw inthe middle of the chief room of the house. The head of the house invitesthe others to drink wine, and the feasting begins. Presently one willstart singing, and all join in this song: 'How firm is this house ofmine. Throughout the year its hearth fire has not ceased to burn, Myfood corn is abundant, I have silver and also cash, My cattle haveincreased to herds, My horses and mules have all white foreheads K'o K'oHa Ha Ha Ha K'o K'o, My sons are filial, My wife is virtuous, In themidst of flesh and wine we sleep, Our happiness reaches unto heaven, Truly glorious is this glad New Year. ' A scene of wild indulgence thenfrequently follows. 

"The Nou-su possess a written language. Their books were originally madeof sheepskin, but paper is now used. The art of printing was unknown, and many books are said to have been lost. The books are illustrated, but the drawings are extremely crude. "[T]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote R: _Yün-nan, The Link between India, and the Yangtze_, byMajor H. R. Davies, Cambridge University Press. ]

[Footnote S: Literally "Eyes of the Earth"--the landlords. ]

[Footnote T: A good deal of information in this chapter was obtainedfrom an article by the Rev. C E Hicks, published in the _ChineseRecorder_ for March, 1910. The portion quoted is taken bodily from thisexcellent article. ]

FIFTH JOURNEY. 

CHAO-T'ONG-FU TO TONG-CH'UAN-FU. 

CHAPTER XI. 

_Revolting sights compensated for by scenery_. _Most eventful day in thetrip_. _Buying a pony, and the reason for its purchase_. _Author's ponykicks him and breaks his arm_. _Chastising the animal, and narrow escapefrom death_. _Rider and pony a sorry sight_. _An uneasy night_. _Reappearance of malaria_. _Author nearly forced to give in_. _Heavyrain on a difficult road_. _At Ta-shui-tsing_. _Chasing frightened ponyin the dead of night_. _Bad accommodation_. _Lepers and leprosy_. _Mining_. _At Kiang-ti_. _Two mandarins, and an amusing episode_. _Laying foundation of a long illness_. _The Kiang-ti Suspension Bridge_. _Hard climbing_. _Tiffin in the mountains_. _Sudden ascents anddescents_. _Description of the country_. _Tame birds and what they do_. _A non-enterprising community_. _Pleasant travelling without perils_. _Majesty of the mountains of Yün-nan_. 

Whilst in this district, as will have been seen, one has to steelhimself to face some of the most revolting sights it is possible toimagine, he is rewarded by the grandeur of the scenic pictures whichmark the downward journey to Tong-ch'uan-fu. 

The stages to Tong-ch'uan-fu were as follows:--

 Length of Height above stage sea level

 1st day T'ao-üen 70 li. ---- ft. 2nd day Ta-shui-tsing 30 " 9, 300 ft. 3rd day Kiang-ti 40 " 4, 400 " 4th day Yi-che-shïn 70 " 6, 300 " 5th day Hong-shïh-ai 90 " 6, 800 " 6th day Tong-ch'uan-fu 60 " 7, 250 "

The Chao-t'ong plateau, magnificently level, runs out past thepicturesquely-situated tower of Wang-hai-leo, from which one overlooks astretch of water. A memorial arch, erected by the Li family ofChao-t'ong-fu, graces the main road farther on, and is probably one ofthe best of its kind in Yün-nan, comparing favorably with the best to befound in Szech'wan, where monumental architecture abounds. Perhaps theonly building of interest in Chao-t'ong is the ancestral hall of thewealthy family mentioned above, the carving of which is magnificent. 

At the end of the first day we camped at the Mohammedan village ofT'ao-üen, literally "Peach Garden, " but the peach trees might once havebeen, though now certainly they are not. 

It was cold when we left, 38° F. , hard frost. All the world seemedbuttoned up and great-coated; the trees seemed wiry and cheerless; thelegs of the pack-horses seemed brittle, and I felt so. Breath issuedvisibly from the mouth as I trudged along. My boy and I nearly came toblows in the early morning. I wanted to lie on; he did not. If he couldnot entertain himself for half an hour with his own thoughts, I, whocould, thought it no fault of mine. I was a reasoning being, a rationalcreature, and thought it a fine way of spending a sensible, impartialhalf-hour. But I had to get up, and then came the benumbed fingers, aquivering body, a frozen towel, and a floor upon which the mud wasfrozen stiff. Little did he know that he was pulling me out to the mosteventful and unfortunate day of my trip. 

At Chao-t'ong I had bought a pony in case of emergency--one of thosesturdy little brutes that never grow tired, cost little to keep, and areunexcelled for the amount of work they can get through every day in theweek. Its color was black, a smooth, glossy black--the proverbial darkhorse--and when dressed in its English saddle and bridle looked evensmart enough for the use of the distinguished traveler, who smiled thesmile of pleasant ownership as it was led on in front all day long, seeming to return a satanic grin for my foolishness at not riding it. [U]

The first I saw of it was when it was standing full on its hind legspinning a man between the railings and a wall in a corner of the missionpremises. It looked well. Truly, it was a blood beast!

On the second day out, whilst walking merrily along in the earlymorning, the little brute lifted its heels, lodged them most preciselyon to my right forearm with considerable force--more forceful thanaffectionate--sending the stick which I carried thirty feet from me upthe cliffs. The limb ached, and I felt sick. My boy--he had been adoctor's boy on one of the gunboats at Chung-king--thought it wasbruised. I acquiesced, and sank fainting to a stone. On the strength ofmy boy's diagnosis we rubbed it, and found that it hurt still more. Thendiving into a cottage, I brought out a piece of wood, three inches wideand twenty inches long, placed my arm on it, bade my boy take off one ofmy puttees from one of my legs, used it as a bandage, and trudged onagain. 

Not realizing that my arm was broken, in the evening I determined tochastise the animal in a manner becoming to my disgust. Mounting at thefoot of a long hill, I laid on the stick as hard as I could, and foundthat my pony had a remarkable turn of speed. At the brow of the hill wasa twenty-yard dip, at the base of which was a pond. 

Down, down, down we went, and, despite my full strength (with the leftarm) at its mouth, the pony plunged in with a dull splash, only to findthat his feet gave way under him in a clay bottom. He could not freehimself to swim. Farther and farther we sank together, every seconddeeper into the mire, when just at the moment I felt the mud clingingabout my waist, and I had visions of a horrible death away from all whoknew me, I plunged madly to reach the side. 

With one arm useless, it is still to me the one great wonder of my lifehow I escaped. Nothing short of miraculous; one of the times when onefeels a special protection of Providence surrounding him. 

Pulling the beast's head, after I had given myself a momentary shake, Isucceeded in making him give a mighty lurch--then another--then another, and in a few seconds, after terrible struggling, he reached the bank. Wemade a sorry spectacle as we walked shamefacedly back to the inn, underthe gaze of half a dozen grinning rustics, where my man was preparingthe evening meal. 

In the evening, on the advice of my general confidential companion, Isubmitted to a poultice being applied to my arm. It was bruised, so weput on the old-fashioned, hard-to-be-beaten poultice of bread. Whilst itwas hot it was comfortable; when it was cold, I unrolled the bandage, threw the poultice to the floor, and in two minutes saw glistening inthe moonlight the eyes of the rats which ate it. 

Then I bade sweet Morpheus take me; but, although the pain prevented mefrom sleeping, I remember fainting. How long I lay I know not. Shuddering in every limb with pain and chilly fear, I at length awokefrom a long swoon. Something had happened, but what? There was still thepaper window, the same greasy saucer of thick oil and light being givenby the same rush, the same rickety table, the same chair on which we hadmade the poultice--but what had happened? I rubbed my aching eyes andlifted myself in a half-sitting posture--a dream had dazzled me andscared my senses. And then I knew that it was malaria coming on again, and that I was once more her luckless victim. 

Malignant malaria, mistress of men who court thee under tropic skies, and who, like me, are turned from thee bodily shattered and whimperinglike a child, how much, how very much hast thou laid up for thyself inHades!

Thank Heaven, I had superabundant energy and vitality, and despitecontorted and distorted things dancing haphazard through my feveredbrain, I determined not to go under, not to give in. My mind was aterrible tangle of combinations nevertheless--intricate, incongruous, inconsequent, monstrous; but still I plodded on. For the next four days, with my arm lying limp and lifeless at my side, and with recurringattacks of malaria, I walked on against the greatest odds, and it wasnot till I had reached Tong-ch'uan-fu that I learnt that the limb wasfractured. Men may have seen more in four days and done more and riskedmore, but I think few travelers have been called upon to suffer moreagony than befell the lot of the man who was crossing China on foot. 

From T'ao-üen there is a stiff ascent, followed by a climb up steepstone steps and muddy mountain banks through black and barren country. The morning had been cold and frosty, but rain came on later, a thick, heavy deluge, which swished and swashed everything from its path as onetoiled painfully up those slippery paths, made almost unnegotiable. Butmy imagination and my hope helped me to make my own sunshine. There issomething, I think, not disagreeable in issuing forth during a goodhonest summer rain at home with a Burberry well buttoned and an umbrellaover one's head; here in Yün-nan a coat made it too uncomfortable towalk, and the terrific wind would have blown an umbrella from one'sgrasp in a twinkling. If we are in the home humor, in the summer, we donot mind how drenching the rain is, and we may even take delight ingetting our own legs splashed as we glance at the "very touchingstockings" and the "very gentle and sensitive legs" of other weaker onesin the same plight. But here was I in a gale on the bleakest tablelandone can find in this part of Yün-nan, and a sorry sight truly did I makeas I trudged "two steps forward, one step back" in my bare feet, coveredonly with rough straw sandals, with trousers upturned above the knee, with teeth chattering in malarial shivers, endeavoring between-times tothink of the pouring deluge as a benignant enemy fertilizing fields, purifying the streets of the horrid little villages in which we spentour nights, refreshing the air!

Shall I ever forget the day?

Just before sundown, drenched to the skin and suffering horribly fromthe blues, we reached one single hut, which I could justly look upon asa sort of evening companion; for here was a fire--albeit, a green woodfire--which looked gladly in my face, talked to me, and put life andcomfort and warmth into me for the ten li yet remaining of the day'shard journey. 

And at night, about 8:30 p. M. , we at last reached the top of the hill, actually the summit of a mountain pass, at the dirty little village ofTa-shui-tsing. Not for long, however, could I rest; for I heard yellsand screams and laughs. That pony again! Every one of my men were afraidof it, for at the slightest invitation it pawed with its front feet andlanded man after man into the gutter, and if that failed it stoodupright and cuddled them around the neck. Now I found it hadrun--saddle, bridle and all--and none volunteered to chase. So at 9:30, weary and bearing the burden of a terrible day, which laid thefoundation of a long illness to be recorded later, I found it myunpleasant duty to patrol the hill from top to bottom, lighting myslippery way with a Chinese lantern, chasing the pony silhouetted onthe sky-line. Ta-shui-tsing is a dreary spot with no inn accommodationat all, [V] a place depopulated and laid waste, gloomy and melancholy. Imanaged, however, after promising a big fee, to get into a smallmud-house, where the people were not unkindly disposed. I ate my food, slept as much as I could in the few hours before the appearing of theearliest dawn on the bench allotted to me, feeling thankful that to mehad been allowed even this scanty lodging. But I could notconscientiously recommend the place to future travelers--a dirty littlevillage with its dirty people and its dirty atmosphere. At the top ofthe pass the wind nearly removed my ears as I took a final glance at themountain refuge. Mountains here run south-west and north-east, and aregrand to look upon. 

The poorest people were lepers, the beggars were all dead long ago. InYün-nan province leprosy afflicts thousands, a disease which theChinese, not without reason, dread terribly, for no known remedy exists. Burning the patient alive, which used often to be resorted to, is evennow looked upon as the only true remedy. Cases have been known where thepatient, having been stupefied with opium, has been locked in a house, which has then been set on fire, and its inmate cremated on the spot. 

Mining used to be carried on here, so they told me; but I was not longin concluding that, whatever was the product, it has not materiallyaffected the world's output, nor had it greatly enriched the laborers inthe field. When I got into civilization I found that coal of asulphurous nature was the booty of ancient days. There may be coal yet, as is most probable, but the natives seemed far too apathetic and wearyof life to care whether it is there or not. 

Passing Ta-shui-tsing, the descent narrows to a splendid view of darkmountain and green and beautiful valley. We were now traveling away fromseveral ranges of lofty mountains, whose peaks appeared vividly abovethe drooping rain-filled clouds, onwards to a range immediatelyopposite, up whose slopes we toiled all day, passing _en route_ only oneuninhabited hamlet, to which the people flee in time of trouble. After aweary tramp of another twenty-five li--the Yün-nan li, mind you, themost unreliable quantity in all matters geographical in the country--Iasked irritatedly, as all travelers must have asked before me, "Then, inthe name of Heaven, where is Kiang-ti?"[W] It should come into viewbehind the terrible steep decline when one is within only about ahundred yards. It is roughly four thousand feet below Ta-shui-tsing. 

Kiang-ti is an important stopping place, with but one forlorn street, with two or three forlorn inns, the best of which has its best roomimmediately over the filthiest stables, emitting a stench which wasalmost unbearable, that I have seen in China. It literally suffocatesone as it comes up in wafts through the wide gaps in the wood floor ofthe room. There are no mosquitoes here, but of a certain winged insectof various species, whose distinguishing characteristics are that thewings are transparent and have no cases or covers, there was aformidable army. I refer to the common little fly. There was the housefly, the horse fly, the dangerous blue-bottle, the impecunious blow fly, the indefatigable buzzer, and others. One's delicate skin got beset withflies: they got in one's ears, in one's eyes, up one's nose, down one'sthroat, in one's coffee, in one's bed; they bade fair to devour onewithin an hour or two, and brought forth inward curses and many swishesof the 'kerchief. 

The village seemed a death-trap. 

Glancing comprehensively at one another as I entered the higher end ofthe town, a party of reveling tea-drinkers hastily pulled some cash fromtheir satchels to settle accounts, and made a general rush into thestreet, where they awaited noisily the approach of a strangely wondrousand imposing spectacle, one that had not been seen in those parts formany days. The tramper, tired as he could be, at length approached, butthe crowd had increased so enormously that the road was completelyblocked. Tradesmen with their portable workshops, pedlars with theircumbersome gear and pack-horses could not pass, but had to wait fortheir turn; there were not even any tortuous by-streets in this placewhereby they might reach their destination. Children lost themselves inthe crush, and went about crying for their mothers. A party oftravelers, newly arrived from the south by caravan route, got wedgedwith their worn-out horses and mules in the thick of the mob, and couldnot move an inch. As far as the eye could reach the blue-clad throngheaved restlessly to and fro under the blaze of the brilliant sun whichharassed everyone in the valley, and, moving slowly and majestically inthe midst of them all, came the foreigner. As they caught sight of me, my sandalled feet, and the retinue following on wearily in the wake, thepopulace set up an ecstatic yell of ferocious applause and turned theirfaces towards the inn, in the doorway of which one of my soldier-men washolding forth on points of more or less delicacy respecting my good orbad nature and my British connection. At that moment, the huge humanmass began to move in one predetermined direction, and then a couple ofmandarins in their chairs joined the swarming rabble. I had to sit downon the step for five minutes whilst my boy, with commendable energy, cleared these two mandarins, who had come from Chen-tu and were on theirway to the capital, out of the best room, because his master wanted it. 

As he finished speaking, there came a loud crashing noise and ashout--my pony had landed out just once again, and banged in one side ofa chair belonging to these traveling officials. They met me with noisyand derisive greetings, which were returned with a straight andpenetrating look. 

No less than fifty degrees was the thermometrical difference inTa-shui-tsing and Kiang-ti. Here it was stifling. Cattle stood instagnant water, ducks were envied, my room with the sun on it becameintolerable, and I sought refuge by the river; my butter was too liquidto spread; coolies were tired as they rested outside the tea-houses, having not a cash to spend; my pony stood wincing, giving sharp shiversto his skin, and moving his tail to clear off the flies and his hindlegs to clear off men. As for myself, I could have done with an icedsoda or a claret cup. 

Very early in the morning, despite malaria shivers, I made my way overthe beautiful suspension bridge which here graces the Niu Lan, [X] atributary of the Yangtze, up to the high hills beyond. 

This bridge at Kiang-ti is one hundred and fifty feet by twelve, protected at one end by a couple of monkeys carved in stone, whilst theopposite end is guarded by what are supposed to be, I believe, a coupleof lions--and not a bad representation of them either, seeing that theworkmen had no original near at hand to go by. 

From here the ascent over a second range of mountains is made bytortuous paths that wind along the sides of the hills high above thestream below, and at other times along the river-bed. The river isfollowed in a steep ascent, a sort of climbing terrace, from which thewater leaps in delightful cascades and waterfalls. A four-hour climbbrings one, after terrific labor, to the mouth of the picturesque passof Ya-ko-t'ang at 7, 500 feet. In the quiet of the mountains I took mymidday meal; there was about the place an awe-inspiring stillness. Itwas grand but lonely, weird rather than peaceful, so that one was gladto descend again suddenly to the river, tracing it through longstretches of plain and barren valley, after which narrow paths lead upagain to the small village of Yi-che-shïn, considerably belowYa-ko-t'ang. It is the sudden descents and ascents which astonish one intraveling in this region, and whether climbing or dropping, one alwaysreaches a plain or upland which would delude one into believing that heis almost at sea-level, were it not for the towering mountains that allaround keep one hemmed in in a silent stillness, and the rarefied air. Yi-che-shïn, for instance, standing at this altitude of considerablyover 6, 000 feet, is in the center of a tableland, on which are numerousvillages, around which the fragrance of the broad bean in flower and thesplendid fertility now and again met with makes it extremely pleasant towalk--it is almost a series of English cottage gardens. Here the weatherwas like July in England--or what one likes to imagine July should be inEngland--dumb, dreaming, hot, lazy, luxurious weather, in which oneshould do as he pleases, and be pleased with what he does. As I toiledalong, my useless limb causing me each day more trouble, I felt I shouldlike to lie down on the grass, with stones 'twixt head and shoulders formy pillow, and repose, as Nature was reposing, in sovereign strength. But I was getting weaker! I saw, as I passed, gardens of purple and goldand white splendor; the sky was at its bluest, the clouds were full, snowy, mountainous. 

Then on again to varying scenes. 

Inns were not frequent, and were poor and wretched. The country was allred sandstone, and devoid of all timber, till, descending into a lovelyvalley, the path crossed an obstructing ridge, and then led out into abeautiful park all green and sweet. The country was full of color. Itput a good taste in one's mouth, it impressed one as a heaven-sent meansof keeping one cheerful in sad dilemma. The gardens, the fields, theskies, the mountains, the sunset, the light itself--all were full ofcolor, and earth and heaven seemed of one opinion in the harmony of thereds, the purples, the drabs, the blacks, the browns, the bright blues, and the yellows. Birds were as tame as they were in the Great Beginning;they came under the table as I ate, and picked up the crumbs withoutfear. Peasant people sat under great cedars, planted to give shade tothe travelers, and bade one feel at home in his lonely pilgrimage. Thenone felt a peculiar feeling--this feeling will arise in anytraveler--when, surmounting some hill range in the desert road, onedescries, lying far below, embosomed in its natural bulwarks, the fairvillage, the resting-place, the little dwelling-place of men, where oneis to sleep. But when towards nightfall, as the good red sun went down, I was led, weary and done-up, into one of the worst inns it had been mymisfortune to encounter, a thousand other thoughts and feelings unitedin common anathema to the unenterprising community. 

Tea was bad, rice we could not get, and all night long the detestablesmells from the wood fires choked our throats and blinded our eyes;glad, therefore, was I, despite the heavy rain, to take a hurried andearly departure the next morning, descending a thousand feet to a river, rising quite as suddenly to a height of 8, 500 feet. 

Now the road went over a mountain broad and flat, where traveling in thesun was extremely pleasant--or, rather, would have been had I been fit. Pack-horses, laden clumsily with their heavy loads of Puerh tea, Manchester goods, oil and native exports from Yün-nan province, passedus on the mountain-side, and sometimes numbers of these willing butill-treated animals were seen grazing in the hollows, by the wayside, their backs in almost every instance cruelly lacerated by the continuousrubbing of the wooden frames on which their loads were strapped. Forcruelty to animals China stands an easy first; love of animals does notenter into their sympathies at all. I found this not to be the caseamong the Miao and the I-pien, however; and the tribes across theYangtze below Chao-t'ong, locally called the Pa-pu, are, as a matter offact, fond of horses, and some of them capable horsemen. 

The journey across these mountains has no perils. One may step aside afew feet with no fear of falling a few thousand, a danger so common inmost of the country from Sui-fu downwards. The scenery ismagnificent--range after range of mountains in whatever direction youlook, nothing but mountains of varying altitudes. And the patches ofwooded slopes, alternating with the red earth and more fertile greenplots through which streams flow, with rolling waterfalls, picturesquenooks and winding pathways, make pictures to which only the giftedartist's brush could do justice. Often, gazing over the sunlitlandscape, in this land "South of the Clouds, " one is held spellbound bythe intense beauty of this little-known province, and one wonders whatall this grand scenery, untouched and unmarred by the hand of man, wouldbecome were it in the center of a continent covered by the ubiquitousglobe-trotter. 

No country in the world more than West China possesses mountains ofcombined majesty and grace. Rocks, everywhere arranged in masses of arude and gigantic character, have a ruggedness tempered by a singularairiness of form and softness of environment, in a climate favorable insome parts to the densest vegetation, and in others wild and barren. Oneis always in sight of mountains rising to fourteen thousand feet ormore, and constantly scaling difficult pathways seven or eight or ninethousand feet above the sea. And in the loneliness of a country wherenothing has altered very much the handiwork of God, an awe-inspiringsilence pervades everything. Bold, grey cliffs shoot up here through amass of verdure and of foliage, and there white cottages, perched inseemingly inaccessible positions, glisten in the sun on the coloredmountain-sides. You saunter through stony hollows, along straightpasses, traversed by torrents, overhung by high walls of rocks, nowwinding through broken, shaggy chasms and huge, wandering fragments, nowsuddenly emerging into some emerald valley, where Peace, longestablished, seems to repose sweetly in the bosom of Strength. Everywhere beauty alternates wonderfully with grandeur. Valleys close inabruptly, intersected by huge mountain masses, the stony water-wornascent of which is hardly passable. 

Yes, Yün-nan is imperatively a country first of mountains, then oflakes. The scenery, embodying truly Alpine magnificence with the minutesylvan beauty of Killarney or of Devonshire, is nowhere excelled in thelength and breadth of the Empire. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote U: The incredulous of my readers may question, and rightly so, "Then where did he get his saddle?" So I must explain that I met justout of Sui-fu a Danish gentleman (also a traveler) who wished to sell apony and its trappings. As I had the arrangement with my boy that Iwould provide him with a conveyance, and did not like the idea of seeinghim continually in a chair and his wealthy master trotting along onfoot, I bought it for my boy's use. He used the saddle until we reachedChao-t'ong. ]

[Footnote V: A new inn has been built since. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote W: Pronounced Djang-di. Famous throughout Western China forits terrible hill, one of the most difficult pieces of country in thewhole of the west. ]

[Footnote X: This river, the Niu Lan, comes from near Yang-lin, oneday's march from Yün-nan-fu. It is being followed down by two Americanengineers as the probable route for a new railway, which it is proposedshould come out to the Yangtze some days north of Kiang-ti. ]

CHAPTER XII. 

_Yün-nan's chequered career_. _Switzerland of China_. _AtHong-sh[=i]h-ai_. _China's Golden Age in the past_. _The conservativeinstinct of the Chinese_. _How to quiet coolies_. _Roads_. _Dangers ofordinary travel in wet season_. _K'ung-shan and its mines_. _Tong-ch'uan-fu, an important mining centre_. _English and Germanmachinery_. _Methods of smelting_. _Protestants and Romanists inYün-nan_. _Arrival at Tong-ch'uan-fu_. _Missionaries set author's brokenarm_. _Trio of Europeans_. _Author starts for the provincial capital_. _Abandoning purpose of crossing China on foot_. _Arm in splints_. _Curiousincident_. _At Lai-t'eo-po_. _Malaria returns_. _Serious illness ofauthor_. _Delirium_. _Devotion of the missionaries_. _Death expected. Innkeeper's curious attitude_. _Recovery_. _After-effects of malaria. Patient stays in Tong-ch'uan-fu for several months_. _Then completes hiswalking tour_. 

Yün-nan has had a checkered career ever since it became a part of theempire. In the thirteenth century Kublai Khan, the invincible warrior, annexed this Switzerland to China; and how great his exploits must havebeen at the time of this addition to the land of the Manchus might begathered from the fact that all the tribes of the Siberian ice-fields, the deserts of Asia, together with the country between China and theCaspian Sea, acknowledged his potent sway--or at least so traditionsays. She is sometimes right. 

My journey continuing across more undulating country brought me atlength to Hong-shïh-ai (Red Stone Cliff), a tiny hamlet hidden awaycompletely in a deep recess in the mountain-side, settled in a narrowgorge, the first house of which cannot be seen until within a few yardsof entry. Inn accommodation, as was usual, was by no means good. It ischaracteristic of these small places that the greater the traffic theworse, invariably, is the accommodation offered. Travelers arecontinually staying here, but not one Chinese in the population isenterprising enough to open a decent inn. They have no money to start it, I suppose. 

But it is true of the Chinese, to a greater degree than of any othernation, that their Golden Age is in the past. Sages of antiquity spokewith deep reverence of the more ancient ancients of the ages, andrevered all that they said and did. And the rural Chinese to-day saysthat what did for the sages of olden times must do for him to-day. Theconservative instinct leads the Chinese to attach undue importance toprecedent, and therefore the people at Hong-shïh-ai, knowing that thevillage has been in the same pitiable condition for generations, live byconservatism, and make no effort whatever to improve matters. 

Fire in the inn was kindled in the hollow of the ground. There was noventilation; the wood they burned was, as usual, green; smoke wassuffocating. My men talked well on into the night, and kept me fromsleeping, even if pain would have allowed me to. I spoke strongly, andthey, thinking I was swearing at them, desisted for fear that I shouldheap upon their ancestors a few of the reviling thoughts I entertainedfor them. 

I should like to say a word here about the roads in this province, orperhaps the absence of roads. They had been execrable, the worst I hadmet, aggravated by heavy rains. With all the reforms to which theprovince of Yün-nan is endeavoring to direct its energies, it has notyet learned that one of the first assets of any district or country isgood roads. But this is true of the whole of the Middle Kingdom. Thecontracted quarters in which the Chinese live compel them to do most oftheir work in the street, and, even in a city provided with but thenarrowest passages, these slender avenues are perpetually choked by thepresence of peripatetic vendors of every kind of article of common salein China, and by itinerant craftsmen who have no other shop than thestreet. In the capital city of the province, even, it is a matter ofsome difficulty to the European to walk down the rough-paved streetafter a shower of rain, so slippery do the slabs of stone become; and hehas to be alive always to the lumbering carts, whose wheels are moresolid than circular, pulled by bullocks as in the days long before thedawn of the Christian Era. The wider the Chinese street the more abusescan it be put to, so that travel in the broad streets of the towns isquite as difficult as in the narrow alleys; and as these streets arenever repaired, or very rarely, they become worse than no roads atall--that is, in dry weather. 

This refers to the paved road, which, no matter what its faults, iscertainly passable, and in wet weather is a boon. There is, however, another kind of road--a mud road, and with a vengeance muddy. 

An ordinary mud or earth road is usually only wide enough for a coupleof coolies to pass, and in this province, as it is often necessary(especially in the Yün-nan-fu district) for one cart to pass another, the farmer, to prevent trespass on his crops, digs around them deepditches, resembling those which are dug for the reception of gas mains. In the rainy season the fields are drained into the roads, which attimes are constantly under water, and beyond Yün-nan-fu, on my way toTali-fu, I often found it easier and more speedy to tramp bang across arice field, taking no notice of where the road ought to be. By the timethe road has sunk a few feet below the level of the adjacent land, it isliable to be absolutely useless as a thoroughfare; it is actually acanal, but can be neither navigated nor crossed. There are some roadsremoved a little from the main roads which are quite dangerous, and itis not by any means an uncommon thing to hear of men with their loadsbeing washed away by rivers where in the dry season there had been theroads. 

The great lines of Chinese travel, so often impassable, might be madepermanently passable if the governor of a province chose to compel theseveral district magistrates along the line to see that these importantarteries are kept free from standing water, with ditches in good orderat all seasons. But for the village roads--during my travels over whichI have come across very few that could from a Western standpoint becalled roads--there is absolutely no hope until such time as the Chinesevillage may come dimly to the apprehension that what is for theadvantage of the one is for the advantage of all, and that wiseexpenditure is the truest economy--an idea of which it has at thepresent moment as little conception as of the average thought of theEnglishman. 

A hundred li to the east of Hong-shiïh-ai, over two impassable mountainranges, are some considerable mines, with antiquated brass and coppersmelting works, and this place, K'ung-shan by name, with Tong-ch'uan-fu, forms an important center. As is well known, all copper of Yün-nan goesto Peking as the Government monopoly, excepting the enormous amountstolen and smuggled into every town in the province. [Y]

The smelting is of the roughest, though they are at the present momentlaying in English machinery, and the Chinese in charge is under theimpression that he can speak English; he, however, makes a hopelessjargon of it. This mining locality is sunk in the deepest degradation. Men and women live more as wild beasts than as human beings, and shouldany be unfortunate enough to die, their corpses are allowed to lie inthe mines. Who is there that could give his time and energy to theremoval of a dead man? Tong-ch'uan-fu should become an important town ifthe rich mineral country of which it is the pivot were properly openedup. Several times I have visited the works in this city, which, underthe charge of a small mandarin from Szech'wan, can boast only the mostprimitive and inadequate machinery, of German make. A huge engine wasrunning as a kind of pump for the accumulation of air, which was passedthrough a long thin pipe to the three furnaces in the outer courtyard. The furnaces were mud-built, and were fed with charcoal (the mostexpensive fuel in the district), the maximum of pure metal being only1, 300 catties per day. The ore, which has been roughly smelted once, isbrought from K'ung-shan, is finely smelted here, then conveyed most ofthe way to Peking by pack-mule, the expense in thus handling, from thetime it leaves the mine to its destination at Peking, being severaltimes its market value. Nothing but copper is sought from the ore, and agood deal of the gold and silver known to be contained is lost. 

I passed an old French priest as I was going to Tong-ch'uan-fu the nextday. He was very pleased to see me, and at a small place we had a fewminutes' chat whilst we sipped our tea. In Yün-nan, I found that theProtestants and the Romanists, although seeing very little of eachother, went their own way, maintaining an attitude of more or lessfriendly indifference one towards the other. 

The last day's march to Tong-ch'uan-fu is perhaps the most interestingof this stage of my journey. Climbing over boulders and stony steps, Ireached an altitude of 8, 500 feet, whence thirty li of pleasant goingawaited us all the way to Lang-wang-miao (Temple of the Dragon King). Here I sat down and strained my eyes to catch the glimpse of the compactlittle walled city, where I hoped my broken arm would be set by theEuropean missionaries. The traveler invariably hastens his pace here, expecting to run down the hill and across the plain in a very shortspace; but as the time passed, and I slowly wended my way along thedifficult paths through the rice fields, I began to realize that I hadbeen duped, and that it was farther than it seemed. Two blushingdamsels, maids goodly to look upon, gave me the sweetest of smiles as Istrode across the bodies of some fat pigs which roamed at large in theoutskirts of the city, the only remembrance I have to mar thecleanliness of the place. 

At Tong-ch'uan-fu the Rev. A. Evans and his extremely hospitable wifeset my arm and did everything they could--as much as a brother andsister could have done--to help me, and to make my short stay with thema most happy remembrance. It was, however, destined that I should betheir guest for many months, as shall hereinafter be explained. 

 * * * * *

A trio of Europeans might have been seen on the morning of Monday, May10, 1909, leaving Tong-ch'uan-fu on the road to Yün-nan-fu, whither theauthor was bound. Mr. And Mrs. Evans, who, as chance would have it, weregoing to Ch'u-tsing-fu, were to accompany me for two days before turningoff in a southerly direction when leaving the prefecture. 

It was a fine spring morning, balmy and bonny. It was decided that Ishould ride a pony, and this I did, abandoning my purpose of crossingChina on foot with some regret. I was not yet fit, had my broken arm insplints, but rejoiced that at Yün-nan-fu I should be able to consult aEuropean medical man. Comparatively an unproductive task--and perhaps afalse and impossible one--would it be for me to detail the happenings ofthe few days next ensuing. I should be able not to look at thingsthemselves, but merely at the shadow of things--and it would serve noprofitable end. 

Suffice it to say that two days out, about midday, a special messengerfrom the capital stopped Mr. Evans and handed him a letter. It was totell him that his going to Ch'u-tsing-fu would be of no use, as thegentleman he was on his way to meet would not arrive, owing to alteredplans. After consulting his wife, he hesitated whether they should goback to Tong-ch'uan-fu, or come on to the capital with me. The lattercourse was decided upon, as I was so far from well--I learned this sometime afterwards. And now the story need not be lengthened. 

At Lai-t'eo-po (see first section of the second book of this volume), malaria came back, and an abnormal temperature made me delirious. Thefollowing day I could not move, and it was not until I had been theresix days that I was again able to be moved. During this time, Mr. AndMrs. Evans nursed me day and night, relieving each other for rest, in aterrible Chinese inn--not a single moment did they leave me. The thirdday they feared I was dying, and a message to that effect was sent tothe capital, informing the consul. Meanwhile malaria played fast andloose, and promised a pitiable early dissolution. My kind, devotedfriends were fearful lest the innkeeper would have turned me out intothe roadway to die--the foreigner's spirit would haunt the place forever and a day were I allowed to die inside. 

But I recovered. 

It was a graver, older, less exuberant walker across China thatpresently arose from his flea-ridden bed of sickness, and began to makea languid personal introspection. I had developed a new sensitiveness, the sensitiveness of an alien in an alien land, in the hands ofnew-made, faithful friends. Without them I should have been a waif ofall the world, helpless in the midst of unconquerable surroundings, leading to an inevitable destiny of death. I seemed declimatized, denationalized, a luckless victim of fate and morbid fancy. 

It was malaria and her workings, from which there was no escape. 

Malaria is supposed by the natives of the tropic belt to be sent toEuropeans by Providence as a chastening for the otherwise insupportableenergy of the white man. Malignant malaria is one of Nature'swatch-dogs, set to guard her shrine of peace and ease and to punishwoeful intruders. And she had brought me to China to punish me. As isher wont, Nature milked the manhood out of me, racked me with aches andpains, shattered me with chills, scorched me with fever fires, pursuedme with despairing visions, and hag-rode me without mercy. Accursednewspapers, with their accursed routine, came back to me; all thestories and legends that I had ever heard, all the facts that I had everlearnt, came to me in a fashion wonderfully contorted and distorted;sensations welded together in ghastly, brain-stretching conglomerates, instinct with individuality and personality, human but torturinglyinhuman, crowded in upon me. The barriers dividing the world of ideas, sensations, and realities seemed to have been thrown down, and allrushed into my brain like a set of hungry foxhounds. The horror ofeffort and the futility of endeavor permeated my very soul. My weary, helpless brain was filled with hordes of unruly imaginings; I wasmasterless, panic-driven, maddened, and had to abide for weeks--yea, months--with a fever-haunted soul occupying a fever-rent and weakenedbody. 

At Yün-nan-fu, whither I arrived in due course after considerablestruggling, dysentery laid me up again, and threatened to pull me nearerto the last great brink. For weeks, as the guest of my friend, Mr. C. A. Fleischmann, I stayed here recuperating, and subsequently, on the adviceof my medical attendant, Dr. A. Feray, I went back to Tong-ch'uan-fu, among the mountains, and spent several happy months with Mr. And Mrs. Evans. 

Had it not been for their brotherly and sisterly zeal in nursing me, which never flagged throughout my illness, future travelers might havebeen able to point to a little grave-mound on the hill-tops, and havegiven a chance thought to an adventurer whom the fates had handledroughly. But there was more in this than I could see; my destiny wasthen slowly shaping. 

Throughout the rains, and well on into the winter, I stayed with Mr. AndMrs. Evans, and then continued my walking tour, as is hereafterrecorded. 

During this period of convalescence I studied the Chinese language andtraveled considerably in the surrounding country. Tong-ch'uan-fu is acity of many scholars, and it was not at all difficult for me to find asatisfactory teacher. He was an old man, with a straggly beard, about 70years of age, and from him I learned much about life in general, inaddition to his tutoring in Chinese. I had the advantage also of closecontact with the missionaries with whom I was living, and on manyoccasions was traveling companion of Samuel Pollard, one of the finestChinese linguists in China at that time. So that with a greatlyincreased knowledge of Chinese, I was henceforth able to hold my ownanywhere. During this period, too, many days were profitably passed atthe Confucian Temple, a picture of which is given in this volume. 

END OF BOOK I. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote Y: In the capital there is a street called "Copper KettleLane, " where one is able to buy almost anything one wants in copper andbrass. Hundreds of men are engaged in the trade, and yet it is"prohibited. " These "Copper Kettle Lanes" are found in many largecities. --E. J. D. ]

BOOK II. 

The second part of my trip was from almost the extreme east to theextreme west of Yün-nan--from Tong-ch'uan-fu to Bhamo, in British Burma. The following was the route chosen, over the main road in someinstances, and over untrodden roads in others, just as circumstanceshappened:

 Tong-ch'uan-fu to Yün-nan-fu (the capital city) 520 li. Yün-nan-fu to Tali-fu 905 li. Tali-fu to Tengyueh (Momien) 855 li. Tengyueh to Bhamo (Singai) 280 English miles approx. 

I also made a rather extended tour among the Miao tribes, in countryuntrodden by Europeans, except by missionaries working among the people. 

FIRST JOURNEY

TONG-CH'UAN-FU TO THE CAPITAL

CHAPTER XIII. 

_Stages to the capital_. _Universality of reform in China_. _Political, moral, social and spiritual contrast of Yün-nan with other parts of theEmpire_. _Inconsistencies of celestial life_. _Author's start forBurma_. _The caravan_. _To Che-chi_. _Dogs fighting over human bones_. _Lai-t'eo-p'o: highest point traversed on overland journey_. _Snow andhail storms at ten thousand feet_. _Desolation and poverty_. _Brutalhusband_. _Horse saves author from destruction_. _The one hundred li toKongshan_. _Wild, rugged moorland and mournful mountains_. _Wretchednessof the people_. _Night travel in Western China_. _Author knocks a mandown_. _Late arrival and its vexations_. _Horrible inn accommodation_. _End of the Yün-nan Plateau_. _Appreciable rise in temperature_. _Entertaining a band of inelegant infidels_. _European contention forsuperiority, and the Chinese point of view_. _Insoluble conundrums of"John's" national character_. _The Yün-nan railway_. _Current ideas inYün-nan regarding foreigners_. _Discourteous fu-song and his escapades_. _Fright of ill-clad urchin_. _Scene at Yang-lin_. _Arrival at thecapital_. 

No exaggeration is it to say that the eyes of the world are upon China. It is equally safe to say that, whilst all is open and may be seen, butlittle is understood. 

In the Far Eastern and European press so much is heard of the awakeningof China that one is apt really to believe that the whole Empire, fromits Dan to Beersheba, is boiling for reform. But it may be that the huskis taken from the kernel. The husk comprises the treaty ports and someof the capital cities of the provinces; the kernel is that vast sleepyinterior of China. Few people, even in Shanghai, know what it means; sothat to the stay-at-home European pardon for ignorance of existingconditions so much out of his focus should readily be granted. 

From Shanghai, up past Hankow, on to Ichang, through the Gorges toChung-king, is a trip likely to strike optimism in the breast of themost skeptical foreigner. But after he has lived for a couple of yearsin an interior city as I have done, with its antiquated legislation, itssuperstition and idolatry, its infanticide, its girl suicides, itspublic corruption and moral degradation, rubbing shoulders continuallyat close quarters with the inhabitants, and himself living in the main aChinese life, our optimist may alter his opinions, and stand in wonderat the extraordinary differences in the most ordinary details of life atthe ports on the China coast and the Interior, and of the grossinconsistencies in the Chinese mind and character. If in addition he hasstayed a few days away from a city in which the foreigners were shut upinside the city walls because the roaring mob of rebels outside wereasking for their heads, and he has had to abandon part of his overlandtrip because of the fear that his own head might have been chopped off_en route_, he may increase his wonder to doubt. The aspect here inYün-nan--politically, morally, socially, spiritually--is that of anotherkingdom, another world. Conditions seem, for the most part, the sameyesterday, to-day, and for ever. And in his new environment, which maybe a replica of twenty centuries ago, the dream he dreamed is nowdispelled. "China, " he says, "is _not_ awaking; she barely moves, she isstill under the torpor of the ages. " And yet again, in the capital and afew of the larger cities, under your very eyes there goes on a reformwhich seems to be the most sweeping reform Asia has yet known. 

Such are the inconsistencies, seemingly unchangeable, irreconcilable inconception or in fact; a truthful portrayal of them tends to render thewriter a most inconsistent being in the eyes of his reader. 

 * * * * *

No one was ever sped on his way through China with more goodwill thanwas the writer when he left Tong-ch'uan-fu; but the above thoughts werethen in his mind. 

Long before January 3rd, 1910, the whole town knew that I was going toMien Dien (Burma). Confessedly with a sad heart--for I carried with mememories of kindnesses such as I had never known before--I led mynervous pony, Rusty, out through the Dung Men (the East Gate), withtwenty enthusiastic scholars and a few grown-ups forming a turbulentrear. As I strode onwards the little group of excited younkers watchedme disappear out of sight on my way to the capital by the followingroute--the second time of trying:--

 Length of Height stage above sea 1st day--Che-chi 90 li. 7, 800 ft. 2nd day--Lai-t'eo-p'o 90 li. 8, 500 ft. 3rd day--Kongshan 100 li. 6, 700 ft. 4th day--Yang-kai 85 li. 7, 200 ft. 5th day--Ch'anff-o'o 95 li 6, 000 ft. 6th day--The Capital 70 li 6, 400 ft. 

My caravan consisted of two coolies: one carried my bedding and a smallbasket of luxuries in case of emergency, the other a couple of boxeswith absolute necessities (including the journal of the trip). Inaddition, there accompanied me a man who carried my camera, and whoseprimary business it was to guard my interests and my money--my generalfactotum and confidential agent--and by an inverse operation enrichhimself as he could, and thereby maintain relations of warm mutualesteem. They received thirty-two tael cents per man per diem, and forthe stopping days on the road one hundred cash. None of them, of course, could speak a word of English. 

The ninety li to Che-chi was mostly along narrow paths by the sides ofriver-beds, the intermediate plains having upturned acres waiting forthe spring. At Ta-chiao (7, 500 feet), where I stayed for my firstalfresco meal at midday, the man--a tall, gaunt, ugly fellow, pockmarkedand vile of face--told us he was a traveler, and that he had been toShanghai. This I knew to be a barefaced lie. He voluntarily explained tothe visitors, gathered to see the barbarian feed, what condensed milkwas for, but he went wide of the mark when he announced that my pony, [Z]hog-maned and dock-tailed (but Chinese still), was an American, as hesaid I was. A young mother near by, suffering from acute eyeinflammation, was lying in a smellful gutter on a felt mat, two pigs onone side and a naked boy of eight or so on the other, whilst she heapedupon the head of the innocent babe she was suckling curses most horriblyblood-curdling. Dogs--the universal scavengers of the awakeninginterior, to which merest allusion is barred by one's Western sense ofdecency--just outside Che-chi, where I stayed the night, had recentlydevoured the corpse of a little child. Its clothing was strewn in mypath, together with the piece of fibre matting in which it had beenwrapped, and the dogs were then fighting over the bones. 

To Lai-t'eo-p'o was a day that men might call a "killer. "

It is a dirty little place with a dirty little street, lying at the footof a mountain known throughout Western China as one of the wildest ofNature's corners, nearly ten thousand feet high, a terrific climb underbest conditions. A clear half-moon, and stars of a silvery twinkle, looked pityingly upon me as I started at 3 a. M. , ignorant of thedangerously narrow defile leading along cliffs high up from the Yili Ho. In the dark, cautiously I groped along. Not without a painful emotion ofimpending danger, as I watched the stellular reflections dancing in therushing river, did I wander on in the wake of a group of pack-ponies, and took my turn in being assisted over the broken chasms by themuleteers. Two fellows got down below and practically lifted the tinyanimals over the passes where they could not keep their footing. Gradually I saw the nightlike shadows flee away, and with the dawn camesigns of heavy weather. 

Snow came cold and sudden. As we slowly and toilsomely ascended, thevelocity of the wind fiercely increased; down the mountain-side, at ahundred miles an hour, came clouds of blinding, flinty dust, making theblood run from one's lips and cheeks as he plodded on against greatodds. With the biting wind, howling and hissing in the winding ravinesand snow-swept hollows, headway was difficult. Often was I raised frommy feet: helplessly I clung to the earth for safety, and pulled atwithered grass to keep my footing. The ponies, patient little brutes, with one hundred and fifty pounds strapped to their backs, came near togiving up the ghost, being swayed hopelessly to and fro in the fury. Forhours we thus toiled up pathways seemingly fitter for goats than men, where leafless trees were bending destitute of life and helpless towardsthe valley, as the keen wind went sighing, moaning, wailing throughtheir bare boughs and budless twigs. 

Such a gale, wilder than the devil's passion, I have not known even onthe North Atlantic in February. 

At times during the day progression in the deepening snow seemed quiteimpossible, and my two men, worn and weary, bearing the burden of anexcessively fatiguing day, well-nigh threw up the sponge, vowing thatthey wished they had not taken on the job. 

But the scenery later in the day, though monotonously so, was grand. Theearth was literally the color of deep-red blood, the crimson pathsintertwining the darker landscape bore to one's imagination a vision ofsome bloody battle--veritable rivers of human blood. To cheer thetraveler in his desolation, the sun struggled vainly to pierce with itsgenial rays through the heavy, angry clouds rolling lazily upwards fromthe black valleys, and enveloping the earth in a deep infinity ofseverest gloom. The cold was damp. In the small hemmed-in hollows, whereto our pathway led, the icy dew clung to one's hair and beard. Fromlittle brown cottages, with poor thatched roofs letting in the light, and with walls and woodwork long since uniformly rotten, men and womenemerged, rubbing their eyes and buttoning up their garments, lookingwistfully for the hidden sun. 

At Shao-p'ai (8, 100 feet) a brute of a fellow was administeringcruellest chastisement to his disobedient yoke-fellow, who took herscourging in good part. I passed along as fast as I could to the ascentover which a road led in and around the mountain with alarmingsteepness, a road which at home would never be negotiated on foot or onhorseback, but which here forms part of the main trade route. From theextreme summit one dropped abruptly into a protecting gorge, wherefalling cascades, sparkling like crystal showers in the feeble sunlightoccasionally breaking through, danced playfully over the smooth-worn, slippery rocks; a stream foamed noisily over the loose stones, and leaptin rushing rapids where the earth had given way; there was no grass, noscenery, no life, and in the sudden turnings the hurricane roared withheavenly anger through the long deep chasms, over thetwelve-inch river-beds at the foot. 

At Lai-t'eo-p'o accommodation at night was fairly good. Men laughedhilariously at me when I raved at some carpenters to desist their clumsyhammering three feet above my head. Hundreds of dogs yelped unceasinglyat the moon, and with the usual rows of the men in mutual invitation to"Come and wash your feet, " or "Ching fan, ching fan, " the draughts, thecreaks and cracks, the unintermitting din, and so much else, one was notsorry to rise again with the lark and push onwards in the cold. 

Down below this horrid town there is a plain; in this plain there is ahole fifty feet deep, and had my pony, which I was leading, not pulledme away from falling thereinto, my story would not now be telling. 

To Kongshan (6, 700 feet), past Yei-chu-t'ang (8, 100 feet) andHsiao-lang-t'ang (7, 275 feet), one hundred li away, was a journeythrough country considerably more interesting, especially towards theend of the day, a peculiar combination of wooded slope and rough, rock-worn pathways. 

Hsiao-lang-t'ang, twenty-five li from the end of the stage, overlooks awide expanse of barren, uninviting moorland. Deep, jagged gullies breakthe uneven rolling of the mountains; dark, weird caverns of terribleimmensity yawn hungrily from the surface of weariest desolation, everwidening with each turn. Mist hid the ugliest spots high up among thepeaks, whose white summits, peeping sullenly from out this blue sea ofdamp haze, told a wondrous story of winter's withering all life todeath, a spot than which in summer few places on earth would be moreentrancing. But these mountains are breathing out a solitude which iseternal. Man here has never been. Far away beyond lies the country ofthe aborigines; but even the Lolo, wild and rugged as the country, fearless of man and beast, have never dared to ascend these heights. They are mournful, cheerless, devoid of a single smile from the commonmother of us all, lacking every feature by which the earth draws maninto a spirit of unity with his God. Horrid, frowning waste and aimlessdiscontinuity of land, harbinger of loneliness and of evil! People, poorstruggling beings of our kind, here seemed mocked of destiny, and a hotraging of misery waged within them, for all that the heart might desireand wish for had to them been denied. If, indeed, the earth be the homeof hope, and man's greatest possession be hope, then would it seem thatthese poor creatures were entirely cut off, shut out from life, wandering wearisomely through the world in one long battle with Naturewhereby to gain the wherewithal to live in that grim desert. There wereno exceptions, it was the common lot. Each day and every day did thesemen and women, with a stolidity of long-continued destitution, andtemporal and spiritual tribulation, gaze upon that bare, unyieldingcountry, pregnant only with aggravation to their own dire wretchedness. 

In such spots, unhappily in Yün-nan not few, does the mystery of lifegrow ever more mysterious to one whom distress has never harassed. Agreat pity seized my heart, but these poor people would probably havelaughed had they known my thoughts. 

As I passed they came uninterestedly to look upon me. They watched inexpressive silence; they were silent because of poverty. And I, too, kept a seal upon my lips as I ate the good things here provided underthe eyes of those to whom hunger had given none but a jealous outlook. Pitiful enough were it, thought I, merely to watch without allowingspeech to escape further to taunt them. So I ate, and they looked at me. I came and went, but never a word was uttered by these men and women, oreven by the children, whose most painful feeling seemed that of theirown feebleness. They were indeed feeble units standing in a threateninginfinitude of life, and their thoughts probably dwelt upon my luxuryand wealth as mine could not help dwelling upon their hungry town ofhungry men and famished children. Words cannot paint their poverty--menvoid of hope, of life, of purpose, of idea. Happy for them that they hadknown no other. 

We ascended over a road of unspeakable torture to one's feet. Gazingdown, far away into a seemingly bottomless abyss, we could faintly hearin the lulling of the wind the rush of a torrent, fed by a hundredmountain streams, which washed our path and in horrible disfigurementtore open the surface of the hill-sides. 

The long day was drawing wearily to a close. As the sun was sinkingbeyond the uneven hills over which I was to climb before the descent tothe town begins, the effect of the green and gold and red and brownproduced a striking picture of sweet poetic beauty. I stood incontemplative admiration meditating, as I waited for my coolies, who satmoodily under a dilapidated roadside awning, nonchalantly picking outmouldy monkey-nuts from some coarse sweetmeat sold by a frowsy female. Then upwards we toiled in the dark, the weird groans of my exhausted menand the falling of the gravel beneath their sandalled feet alonebreaking the hollow's gloom. Uncanny is night travel in China. 

"Who knows but that ghosts, those fierce-faced denizens of the hills, may run against thee and bewitch thee, " murmured one man to the others. They stopped, and I stopped with them. And in the darkness, pegging onalone at the mercy of these coolies, my own thoughts were notunsynchronistic. 

At last, with no slight misgiving, we came down into the city's smoke. Dogs barked at me, and ran away like the curs they are. Midway down thestone footway my yamen runner too cautiously crept up to me in the dark, muttering something, and I floored him with my fist. Afterwards Ilearnt that he came to relieve me of the pony I was leading. 

Every room in every wretched inn was occupied; opium fumes alreadyissued from the doorways, and it was now pitch dark, so that I couldscarce see the sallow faces of the hungry, uncouth crowd, to whom withno little irritation I tried to speak as I peered carefully into thecaravanserai. Evident it certainly was that the duty lying nearest to meat that particular moment, to myself and all concerned therein, was toaccept what I was offered, and not wear out my temper in grumbling. Myboy, Lao Chang (an I-pien), the brick, expressed to me his regrets, andsomething like real sympathy shone out from his eyes in the dimness. 

"Puh p'a teh, puh p'a teh" ("Have no fear, have no fear"), said he; andas I stood the while piling up cruellest torture upon my uncourtly host, he made off to prepare a downstair room (to lapse into modernboarding-house phraseology). 

First through an outer apartment, dark as darkest night; on past thecaterwauling cook and a few disreputable culinary hangers-on; asked tolook out for a pony, which I could not see, but which I was told mightkick me; then onward to my boy, who stood on a stool and dropped thegrease of a huge red Chinese candle among his plaited hair, as hewobbled it above his head to light the way. He gripped me tenderly, tookme to his bosom as it were, gave me one push, and I was there. Hetarried not. What right had he to listen to what I in secret would sayof the horrid keeper and his twice horrid shakedown inn? He passed outswiftly into outer darkness, uttering a groan I rudely interpreted as, "That or nothing, that or nothing. "

It _was_ a room, that is in so far as four sides, a floor and a ceilingcomprise one. Of that I had no doubt. A sort of uncomely offshoot fromthe main inn building, built on piles in the earth after the fashion ofthe seashore houses of the Malay--but much dirtier and incomparably moreshaky. For many a long year, longer than mine horrid host would care torecollect, this now unoccupied space had served admirably as the commoncooking-room--the ruined fireplace was still there; later, it had beenthe stable--the ruined horse trough was still there. At one extremecorner only could I stand upright; long sooty cobwebs graced the blackwood beams overhead, hanging as thick as icicles in a mountain valley;each step I took in fear and trembling (the slightest move threatened tocollapse the whole dilapidation). Four planks, four inches wide at thewidest part and of varying lengths and thicknesses, placed on a pile ofloose firewood at the head and foot, comprised the bedstead on which Itremulously sat down. Upon this improvised apology for a bed, under mymosquito curtains (no traveler should be without them in Western China), I washed my blistered feet on an ancient _Daily Telegraph_, whilst mycook saw to my evening meal. His bringing in the rice tallied with mylaying the tablecloth in the same place where I had washed my feet--theone available spot. 

As I ate, rats came brazenly and picked up the grains of rice I droppedin my inefficient handling of chopsticks, and in scaring off thesehardened, hungry vermin I accidentally upset tea over my bed, whilst atthe same moment a clod-hopping coolie came in with an elephant tread, with the result that my European reading-lamp lost its balance from thetop of a tin of native sugar and started a conflagration, threatening tomake short work of me and my belongings--not to mention that horridfellow and his inn. 

During the night the moments throbbed away as I lay on my flea-riddencouch--moments which seemed long as hours, and no gleaming rift brokethe settled and deepening blackness of my hateful environs. Every thingand every place was full of the wearisome, depressing, beauty-blastingcommonplace of Interior China. Stenches rose up on the damp, dank air, and throughout the night, through the opening of a window, I seemed togaze out to a disconsolate eternity--gaping, empty, unsightly. Wakingfrom my dozing at the hour when judgment sits upon the hearts of men, Isat in ponderous judgment upon all to whom the bungling of the previousday was due. There were the rats and mice, and cats and owls, and creaksand cracks--no quiet about the place from night to morning. Then camethe barking of dogs, the noises of the cocks and kine, of horses andfoals, of pigs and geese--the general wail of the zoologicalkingdom--cows bellowing, duck diplomacy, and much else. So that it werenot surprising to learn that this distinguished traveler in thesecontemptible regions was sitting on a broken-down bridge, lookingwearily on to the broken-down tower on the summit of a pretty littleknoll outside Kungshan, thinking that it were well a score of such wereadded did their design embrace a warning to evade the place. 

Having done some twenty li by moonlight, I managed with littledifficulty to reach Yang-kai (6, 350 feet) by 3. 0 p. M. This road, whichis not the main road to the capital, was purposely chosen; mosttravelers go through Yang-lin. The journey is comprised of pleasantascents and descents over the latter portion of the great Yün-nanPlateau, and a very appreciable difference in the temperature was herenoticed. While the people at the north-east of the province, from whichI had come, were shivering in their rags and complaining about the priceof charcoal, the population here basked under Italian skies in a warmsun. From Lui-shu-ho (7, 200 feet) the country was beautifully woodedwith groves of firs and chestnuts. 

At the inn to which I was led the phlegmatic proprietor, after wishingme peace, assumed unostentatiously the becoming attitude of a Customsofficial, and scrutinized with vigor the whole of my gear, from an emptyCalvert's tooth-powder tin to my Kodak camera, showering particularlycondescending felicitations upon my English Barnsby saddle andfield-glasses thereto attached. 

His excitement rose at once. 

He called loudly for his confederates--a band of inelegant infidels--andbidding them stand one by one at given distances, he gaped at themthrough the glasses with the hilarity of a schoolboy and the stupidityof an owl. He jumped, he shouted, he waved his arms about me, andhanding them back to me with both hands, shouted deafeningly in my earthat they were quite beyond his ken; and then he sucked his teethdisgustingly and spat at my feet. His associates were speechless, assesthat they were, and could only stare, in horror or impudence I know not. 

Meantime Lao Chang brought tea, and sallied forth immediately tofraternize among old friends. As I drank my tea, after having invitedthem one by one to join me, slowly and with a fitting dignity, the emptystare, destitute of sense or sincerity, of these six upstanding Chinesegentry, sucking at tobacco-pipes as long as their own overfed bodies, forced upon me a sense of my unfitness for the unknown conditions of thelife of the place, a sense of loneliness and social unshelteredness inthe sterile waste of their fashionable life. They spoke to mesubsequently, and I bravely threw at them a Chinese phrase or two; butwhen the conversation got above my head, I told them, quietly butdeterminedly, that I could not understand, my English speech seemedvaguely to indicate a sudden collapse of the acquaintance, the openingof a gulf between us, destined to widen to the whole length and breadthof Yang-kai, swallowing up their erstwhile confidences. One of themfacetiously remarked that the gentleman wished to eat his rice; and asthey cleared out, falling over each other and the high step at theentrance to the room, I thought that no matter how old they are, Chineseare but little children. But had I treated them as little children Ishould have found that they were old men. 

There was in me withal a sense of better rank in the eyes of thissuper-excellent few who worshipped, in "heathen" China, the Satan ofFashion. As a matter of fact, their rank had emerged from such longcenturies ago that it seemed to me to be so identified with them thatthey were hardly capable of analysis of people such as myself. As Ilooked pityingly upon them and the involved simplicity of theirimmutable natures, I realized an unconquerable feeling of inborn rankand natural elevation in respect to nationality. This is, however, against my personal general conception of Eastern peoples, but I mustadmit I felt it this afternoon. And so perhaps it is with the majorityof Europeans in the Far East, who, because they have no knowledge of thelanguage or a familiarity with national customs and ideas, remain alwaysaliens with the Easterner. They cannot sympathize with him in his joysand sorrows, his likes and dislikes, his prejudice and bias, orunderstand anything of his point of view. This is one of the hardestlessons for the European traveler in China who has little of thelanguage. Because we do not understand him, we call the Chinese aheathen--it is easier. 

Now, to the Chinese his country is the best in the world, his provincebetter than any other of the eighteen, and the village in which he livesthe most enviable spot in the province--the center of his universe. Speak disparagingly about that little circle, critically orsympathetically, and he is at once up against you. It may developnarrowness of mind and smallness of soul. We Westerners think we knowthat it does; and the fact that he allows his mental horizon to bebounded by such narrow confines appears to us to render him anything buta desirable citizen and a full-sized man. But no matter. The Chinese, onthe other hand, regards as barbarians all those men who have nevertasted the bliss of a true home in the Empire which is celestial--partof this feeling is patriotism and love of country, part is rank conceit. But Englishmen are saying that England is the most Christian country inthe world for the very same reason!

Rationally speaking, John is the "old brother" of the world, oldest ofany nation by very many centuries. In common with all other travelersand those who have lived with this man, and who have made his nature aserious study, apart from racial bias, I am perplexed with conundrumswhich cannot be solved. Some of the conundrums are perhaps superficial, and disappear with a deeper insight into his life; others are wroughtinto his being. Yet he has a fixedness of character, reaching in somedirections to absolute crystallization; he possesses the virility ofyoung manhood and many of the mutually inconsistent traits of latemanhood and early youth. I wonder at his ignorance of merest rudimentarypolitical economy--but why? This man explored centuries ago the cardinaltheories of some of our present-day Western classics. However, I have toteach him the form of the earth and the natural causes of eclipses. Heis frightened by ghosts, burns mock money to maintain his ancestors inthe future state, worships a bit of rusty old iron as an infallibleremedy for droughts; I have seen him shoot at clouds from the city wallsto frighten away the rain--and I despise him for it all. As I revisethis copy, a rumor is current in the town in which I am resting to theeffect that foreigners are buying children and using their heads to oilthe wheels of the new Yün-nan railway, and I despise him for believingit. The Chinese will not fight, and I sneer at him; he abhors mebecause I do. I ridicule his manner of dress; he thinks mine grosslyindecent. I consider his flat nose and the plaited hair and shaven skullas heathenish; but the Chinese, eating away with his to me ridiculouschopsticks, looks out from his quick, almond-shaped eyes and considersme still a foreign devil, although he is too cunning to tell me. Hisopinions of me are founded upon the narrow grounds of vanity andegotism; mine, although I do not admit it even to myself, from somethingvery much akin thereto. [AA]

I have been looked upon in far-away outposts of the Chinese Empire whereforeigners are still unknown, as an example of those human monstrositieswhich come from the West, a creature of a very low order of the humanspecies, with a form and face uncouth, with language a hopeless jargon, and with manners unbearably rude and obnoxious. Not that _I_ personallyanswer accurately to this description, reader, any more than you would, but because I happen to be among a people who, as far back as Chineseopinion of foreigners can be traced, have considered themselves of amorality and intellectuality superior to yours and mine. 

I write the foregoing because it sums up what may be termed the currentideas regarding Europeans, ideas the reverse of complimentary, which arethe more unfortunate on account of the fact that they are held by thevast majority of a people forming a quarter of the whole human race. This is true, despite all the reform. 

These ideas may be, and I trust they are, erroneous, but I know that Imust keep in mind the extremely important desideratum in dealing withthe Chinese that they look at me--my person, my manners, my customs, mytheories, my things--through Chinese eyes, and although mistaken, misled, reach their own conclusions from their own point of view. Thisis what they have been doing for centuries, but we know that it all nowis being subjected to slow change. The original stock, however, takes onno change whatever, and several generations must pass before thistransfer of mental vision can be effected, when the Chinese will viewall things and all peoples in their true light. 

Next morning my three men were heavy. The lean fellow--I have christenedhim Shanks, a long, shambling human bag of bones--moved about painfullyin a listless sort of way, betokening severe rheumatics; his jointsneeded oil. Four or five huge basins of steaming rice and the customaryamount of reboiled cabbage, however, bucked him up a bit, and holding upa crooked, bony finger, he indicated intelligently that we had onehundred li to cover. Whilst engaged in conversation thus, sounds ofearly morning revelry reached me from below. My boy, his accustomedserenity now quite disturbed, held threateningly above the head of theyamen runner (who had given me a profound kotow the evening previousprior to taking on his duties) a length of three-inch sugar cane; heevidently meant to flatten him out. This I learned was because thisshadower of the august presence wished to take Yang-lin (about 60 liaway) instead of going to Ch'ang-p'o (100 li) as I intended. I got himin, looked him as squarely in the face as it is possible when a Chinesewants to evade your scrutiny, told him I wished to go to Ch'ang-p'o, andthat I hoped I should have the pleasure of his company thus far. Hereplied with a grinning smile, which one could easily have taken for asmiling grin--

"Oh, yes, foreign mandarin, Ch'ang-p'o--100 li--foreign mandarin, foreign mandarin. "

And I thought the incident closed. Such is the appalling gullibility ofthe Englishman in China. 

We stopped for tea at a small hamlet ten li out. The place was desertedsave for a small starving boy, whose chief attention was given tolaborious endeavors to make his clothing meet in certain necessaryareas. He evidently had never seen a foreigner. As he directed hisoptics towards me he winced visibly. He walked round me several times, fell over a grimy pail of soap-suds, stopped, gazed in enrapturedenchantment with parted lips and outstretched arms as if he had begun tosuspect what it was before him. To the eye of the beholder, however, hegazed as yet only on vacancy, but just as I was about to attemptself-explanation he was gone, tearing away down the hill as fast as hislegs could carry him, the ragged remains of his father's trousersflapping gently in the breeze. As I rose to leave crackers frightened mypony, followed, in a few moments by a howling, hooting, unreasonablerabble from a temple near by. I found it was the result of a villagesquabble. I could scarce keep the order of my march as I left thetea-shop, so roughly was I handled by the irritated and impatient crowd, and had much ado to refrain from responding wrathfully to the repeatedjeers of impudent, half-grown beggars of both sexes who helped to swellthe riotous cortege. But through it all none of the insults were meantfor me, so Lao Chang told me, and they did not mean to treat me withdiscourtesy. 

Trees hollowed out and spanned from field to field served as gutters forirrigation; shepherds clad in white felt blankets sat huddled upon theground behind huge boulders, oblivious of time and of the boisterouswind, while their sheep and goats grubbed away on the scanty grass themoorland provided; high up we saw forest fires, making the earth blackand desolate; ruins almost everywhere recalled to one's mind the imageof a past prosperity, which now were replaced by traces of misery, exterior influences which seemed to breed upon the traveler a deepdiscouragement. I came across some women mock-weeping for the dead: attheir elbow two girls were washing clothes, and when little children, catching sight of me, ran to their mothers, the women stopped theirhulla-baloo, had a good stare at me, exchanged a few words of mutualinquiry, and then resumed their bellowing. 

Soon it became quite warm, and walking was pleasant. I was startled bythe _fu-song_, [AB] who invited me to go to a neighboring town for tea. Mymen were far behind. I was at his mercy, so I went. Soon I found myselfpassing through the city gates of Yang-lin, the very town I was tryingto keep away from. The yamen fellow turned back at me and chuckledrudely to himself. I insisted that I did not wish to take tea; heinsisted that I should--I must. He led me to an inn in the main street, arrangements were made to house me, old men and young lads gathered towelcome me as a lost brother, and the _fu-song_ told me graciously thathe was going to the magistrate. In cruel English, with many wildlythreatening gestures, did I protest, and the people laughedacquiescingly. 

"Puh tong, puh tong, you gaping idiots!" I repeated, and it caused moreglee. 

Swinging myself past them all, I dragged my stubborn pony through themob to the gate by which I had entered. My men were not to be found. Idid not know the road nor much of the language. I sat down on a granitepillar to undergo an embarrassing half-hour. Presently my men hailed me, and approaching, swore with imposing loftiness at the discomfited guide. My bull-dog coolie dropped his loads, the _fu-song_ somehow lost hisfooting, I yelled "Ts'eo" ("Go"), and with a cheer the caravanproceeded. 

The following day we were at the capital. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote Z: I took a pony because I had made up my mind to return intoChina after I had reached Burma. In Tong-ch'uan-fu a good pony can bebought for, say, _£3_--in Burma, the same pony would sell for £10. 

--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AA: For further excellent descriptions of the Chinese nature Irefer the reader to Chester Holcombe's _China: Past andPresent_. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AB: _i. E. _ Yamen escort. ]

CHAPTER XIV. 

YÜN-NAN-FU, THE CAPITAL. 

_Access to Yün-nan-fu_. _Concentrated reform_. _Tribute to Hsi Liang_. _Conservatism and progress_. _The Tonkin-Yün-nan Railway_. _The Yün-nanarmy_. _Author's views in 1909 and 1910 contrasted_. _Phenomenal forwardmarch, and what it means_. _Danger of too much drill_. _Internationalaspect on the frontier_. _The police_. _Street improvements_. _Visit tothe gaol, and a description_. _The Young Pretender to the Chinesethrone_. _How the prison is conducted_. _The schools_. _Visit to theuniversity, and a description_. _Riot among the students_. _Visit to theAgricultural School, and a description_. _Silk industry of Yün-nan. _

Yün-nan-fu to-day is as accessible as Peking. After many weary years theTonkin-Yün-nan railway is now an accomplished fact, and links thiscapital city with Haiphong in three days. 

Reform concentrates at the capital. The man who visited Yün-nan-futwenty, or even ten years ago, would be astounded, were he to go therenow, at the improvements visible, on every hand. A building on foreignlines was then a thing unknown, and the conservative Viceroy, Tseng KongPao, the decapitator in his time of thousands upon thousands of humanbeings, would turn in his grave if he could behold the utterannihilation of his pet "feng shui, " which has followed in the wake ofthe good works done by the late loved Viceroy, Hsi Liang. 

The name of Hsi Liang is revered in the province of Yün-nan as the mostable man who has ever ruled the two provinces of Yün-nan and Kwei-chow, a man of keen intellectuality and courtly manner, and notorious as beingthe only Mongolian in the service of China's Government. I lived inYün-nan-fu for several weeks at a stretch, and since then have madefrequent visits, and knowing the enormous strides being made towardsacquiring Occidental methods, I now find it difficult to write withabsolute accuracy upon things in general. But I have found this to bethe case in all my travels. What is, or seems to be, accurate to-day ofany given thing in a given place is wrong tomorrow under seemingly thesame conditions; and although no theme could be more tempting, and nosubject offer wider scope for ingenious hypothesis and profoundgeneralization, one has to forego much temptation to "color" if he wouldbe accurate of anything he writes of the Chinese. Eminent sinologuesagree as to the impossibility of the conception of the Chinese mind andcharacter as a whole, so glaring are the inconsistencies of the Chinesenature. And as one sees for himself in this great city, particularly inofficial life, the businesslike practicability on the one hand and theutter absurdity of administration on the other, in all modes andmethods, one is almost inclined to drop his pen in disgust at beingunable to come to any concrete conclusions. 

Of no province in China more than of Yün-nan is this true. 

Reform and immovable conservatism go hand in hand. Men of the mostdissimilar ambitions compose the _corps diplomatique_, and are willingto join hands to propagate their main beliefs; and when one writes ofprogress--in railways, in the army, in gaols, in schools, in publicworks, in no matter what--one is ever confronted by that doggedimmutability which characterizes the older school. 

So that in writing of things Yün-nanese in this great city it isimperative for me to state bare facts as they stand now, and make littlecomment. 

THE RAILWAY

The Tonkin-Yün-nan Railway, linking the interior with the coast, is oneof the world's most interesting engineering romances. This artery ofsteel is probably the most expensive railway of its kind, from theconstructional standpoint. In some districts seven thousand pounds permile was the cost, and it is probable that six thousand pounds sterlingper mile would not be a bad estimate of the total amount appropriatedfor the construction of the line from a loan of 200, 000, 000 francs askedfor in 1898 by the Colonial Council in connection with the program for anetwork of railways in and about French Indo-China. 

To Lao-kay there are no less than one hundred and seventy-five bridges. 

The completion of this line realizes in part the ambition of acelebrated Frenchman, who--once a printer, 'tis said, in Paris--droppedinto the political flower-bed, and blossomed forth in due course asGovernor-General of Indo-China. When Paul Doumer, for it was he, wenteast in 1897, he felt it his mission to put France, politically andcommercially, on as good a footing as any of her rivals, notably GreatBritain. It did not take him long to see that the best missionaries inhis cause would be the railways. At the time of writing (June, 1910) Icannot but think that profit on this railway will be a long time coming, and there are some in the capital who doubt whether the commercialpossibilities of Yün-nan justified this huge expenditure on railwayconstruction. Whilst authorities differ, I personally believe that theultimate financial success of the venture is assured. There are marketscrying out to be quickly fed with foreign goods, and it is my opinionthat the French will be the suppliers of those goods. British enterpriseis so weak that we cannot capture the greater portion of the growingforeign trade, and must feel thankful if we can but retain what trade wehave, and supply those exports with which the French have no possibilityof competing. 

 * * * * *

THE MILITARY

The foreigner in Yün-nan-fu can never rest unless he is used to thesounds of the bugle and the hustling spirit of the men of war. 

In standard works on Chinese armaments no mention is ever made of theYün-nan army, and statistics are hard to get. But it is evident that thecult of the military stands paramount, and it has to be conceded, evenby the most pessimistic critics of this backward province, that the newtroops are sufficiently numerous and sufficiently well-organized tocrush any rebellion. This must be counted a very fair result, since ithas been attained in about two years. A couple of years ago Yün-nan hadpractically no army--none more than the military ragtags of the oldschool, whose chief weapon of war was the opium pipe. But now there areten thousand troops--not units on paper, but men inuniform--well-drilled for the most part and of excellent physique, whocould take the field at once. The question of the Yün-nan army is one ofinternational interest: the French are on the south, Great Britain onthe west. 

On June 2nd, 1909, I rode out to the magnificent training ground, thenbeing completed, and on that date wrote the following in my diary:--

"I watched for an hour or two some thousand or so men undergoing theirdaily drill--typical tin soldiery and a military sham. 

"Only with the merest notion of matters military were most of the menconversant, and alike in ordinary marching--when it was most difficultfor them even to maintain regularity of step--or in more complicateddrilling, there was a lack of the right spirit, no go, no gusto--scoresand scores of them running round doing something, going through aroutine, with the knowledge that when it was finished they would gettheir rice and be happy. Everyone who possesses but a rudimentaryknowledge of the Chinese knows that he troubles most about the twomeals every day should bring him, and this seems to be the pervadingline of thought of seven-eighths of the men I saw on the padang atdrill. Officers strutting about in peacock fashion, with a sworddangling at their side, showed no inclination to enforce order, and therank and file knew their methods, so that the disorder and haphazardnessof the whole thing was absolutely mutual. 

"Whilst I was on the field gazing in anything but admiration on thescene, I was ordered out by one of the khaki-clad officers in a mostunceremonious manner. Seeing me, he shouted at the top of his thickvoice, 'Ch'u-k'ü, ch'u-k'ü' (an expression meaning 'Go out!'--commonlyused to drive away dogs), and simultaneously waved his sword in the airas if to say, 'Another step, and I'll have your head. ' And, of course, there being nothing else to do, I 'ch'u-k'üd, ' but in a fashionbefitting the dignity of an English traveler. 

"The reorganization of the army, with the acceleration of warlikepreparedness, has the advantage that it appeals to the embryonic feelingof national patriotism, and affords a tangible expression of the desireto be on terms of equality with the foreigner. That officer never had aprouder moment in his life than when he ordered a distinguishedforeigner from the drilling ground, of which he was for the time thelordly comptroller. And it may be added that the foreigner can rememberno occasion when he felt 'smaller, ' or more completely shrivelled. 

"Whilst it is safe to infer that the motives that underlie thesignificant access of activity in military matters in Yün-nan differ inno way from those which have led to the feverish increase in armamentsin other parts of the world, such ideas that have yet been formed onactual preparations for possible war are most crude. On paper theappointments in the army and the accuracy of the figures of thecomplement of rank and file admit of no question, but the practicalutility of their labors is quite another matter, and a matter which doesnot appear to produce among the army officials any great mentaldisturbance in their delusion that they are progressing. Yün-nan is inneed of military reform, reform which will embrace a start from the verybeginning, and one of the first steps that should be taken is that thosewho are to be in the position of administering training should find outsomething about western military affairs, and so be in a position ofknowing what they are doing. "

The above was my conscientious opinion in the middle of last year. Now--in June of 1910--I have to write of enormous improvements andrevolutions in the drilling, in the armaments, in the equipment, in thegeneral organization of the troops and the conduct of them. Yün-nan isstill peculiarly in her transition stage, which, while it has manyelements of strength and many menacing possibilities, contains, more orless, many of the old weaknesses. All matters, such as her financialquestion, her tariff question, her railway question, her miningquestion, are still "in the air"--the unknown _x_ in the equation, as itwere--but her army question is settled. There is a definite line to befollowed here, and it is being followed most rigidly. Come what will, her army must be safe and sound. China is determined to work out thedestiny of Yün-nan herself, and she is working hard--the West has noconception how hard--so as to be able to be in a position ofsafeguarding--vigorously, if necessary--her own borders. 

One question arises in my mind, however. Should there be a rebellion, would the soldiers remain true? This is vital to Yün-nan. Skirmishingson the French border more or less recently have shown us that soldiersare wobblers in that area. The rank and file are chosen from the commonpeople, and one would not be surprised to find, should trouble takeplace fairly soon, while they are still raw to their business, thesoldiers turn to those who could give them most. It has been humorouslyremarked that in case of disturbances the first thing the Chinese Tommywould do would be to shoot the officers for treating him so badly andfor drilling him so hard and long. 

What is true of the capital in respect to military progress I found tobe true also of Tali-fu. 

A couple of years ago a company of drilled soldiers arrived there as anucleus for recruiting units for the new army. Soon 1, 500 men wereenlisted. They were to serve a three years' term, were to receive fourdollars per month, and were promised good treatment. The officersdrilled them from dawn to dusk; deserters were therefore many, necessitating the detail of a few heads coming off to avert the troubleof losing all the men. It cost the men about a dollar or so for theirrice, so that it will be readily seen that, with a clear profit of threedollars as a monthly allowance, they were better off than they wouldhave been working on their land. Officers received from forty to sixtytaels a month. Temples here were converted into barracks--a sign initself of the altered conditions of the times--and I visited someextensive buildings which were being erected at a cost of eightythousand gold dollars. 

Military progress in this "backward province" is as great as it has beenanywhere at any time in any part of the Chinese Empire. 

THE POLICE

Until a few years ago, as China was kept in law and order without thenecessary evil of a standing army, so did Yün-nan-fu slumber on in theChinese equivalent for peace and plenty. As they now are, and takinginto consideration that they were all picked from the rawest material, the police force of this capital is as able a body of men as are to befound in all Western China. Probably the Metropolitan police of dear oldLondon could not be re-forced from their ranks, but disciplined andwell-ordered they certainly are withal. Swords seem to take the place ofthe English bludgeon, and a peaked cap, beribboned with gold, issubstituted for the old-fashioned helmet of blue; and if the time shouldever come, with international rights, when Englishmen will be "run in"in the Empire, the sallow physiognomy and the dangling pigtail alonewill be unmistakable proofs to the victim, even in heaviestintoxication, that he is not being handled by policemen of his awnkind--that is, if the Yün-nan police shall ever have made stridestowards the attainment of home police principles. However, in theirplace these men have done good work. Thieving in the city is now muchless common, and gambling, although still rife under cover--when willthe Chinese eradicate that inherent spirit?--is certainly being putdown. One of the features of their work also has been the improvementthey have effected in the appearance of the streets. Old customs aredying, and at the present time if a man in his untutored little waysthrows his domestic refuse into the place where the gutter should havebeen, as in olden days, he is immediately pounced upon, reprimanded bythe policeman on duty, and fined somewhat stiffly. 

THE GAOL

A great fuss was made about me when I went to visit the governor of theprison one wet morning. He met me with great ostentation at theentrance, escorting me through a clean courtyard, on either side ofwhich were pretty flower-beds and plots of green turf, to areception-room. There was nothing "quadlike" about the place. Thisreception-room, furnished on a semi-Occidental plan, overlooked the mainprison buildings, contained foreign glass windows draped with whitecurtains, was scrupulously clean for China, and had magnificent hangingscrolls on the whitewashed walls. Tea was soon brewed, and the governor, wishing to be polite and sociable, told me that he had been inYün-nan-fu for a few months only, and that he considered himself anextremely fortunate fellow to be in charge of such an excellentprison--one of the finest in the kingdom, he assured me. 

After we had drunk each other's health--I sincerely trust that the cute, courteous old chap will live a long and happy life, although to my wayof thinking the knowledge of the evil deeds of all the criminals aroundme would considerably minimize the measure of bliss among such intenselymundane things--I was led away to the prison proper. 

This gaol, which had been opened only a few months, is a remarkably finebuilding, and with the various workshops and outhouses and officescovers from seven to eight acres of ground inside the city. The outside, and indeed the whole place, bears every mark of Western architecture, with a trace here and there of the Chinese artistry, and for carvedstone and grey-washed brick might easily be mistaken for a foreignbuilding. It cost some ninety thousand taels to build, and hasaccommodation for more than the two hundred and fifty prisoners atpresent confined within its walls. 

After an hour's inspection, I came to the conclusion that the lot of theprisoners was cast in pleasant places. The food was being prepared atthe time--three kinds of vegetables, with a liberal quantity of rice, much better than nine-tenths of the poor brutes lived on before theycame to gaol. Besworded warders guarded the entrances to the variousoutbuildings. From twenty to thirty poor human beings were manacled intheir cells, condemned to die, knowing not how soon the pleasure of theemperor may permit of them shuffling off this mortal coil: onegrey-haired old man was among the number, and to see him stolidlywaiting for his doom brought sad thoughts. 

The long-termed prisoners work, of course, as they do in all prisons. Weaving cloth, mostly for the use of the military, seemed to be the mostimportant industry, there being over a score of Chinese-made weavingmachines busily at work. The task set each man is twelve English yardsper day; if he does not complete this quantity he is thrashed, if hedoes more he is remunerated in money. One was amused to see theEnglish-made machine lying covered with dust in a corner, now discarded, but from its pattern all the others had been made in the prison. Tailorsrose as one man when we entered their shop, where Singer machines wererattling away in the hands of competent men; and opposite were a body ofpewter workers, some of their products--turned out with most primitivetools--being extremely clever. The authorities had bought a foreignchair, made of iron--a sort of miniature garden seat--and from thispattern a squad of blacksmiths were turning out facsimiles, which wereselling at two dollars apiece. They were well made, but a skilledmechanic, not himself a prisoner, was teaching the men. Bamboo blindswere being made in the same room, whilst at the extreme end of anothershed were paper dyers and finishers, carrying on a primitive work in thesame primitive way that the Chinese did thousands of years ago. It was, however, exceedingly interesting to watch. 

As we passed along I smelt a strong smell of opium. Yes, it was opium. Isniffed significantly, and looked suspiciously around. The governor sawand heard and smelt, but he said nothing. Opium, then, is not, as isclaimed, abolished in Yün-nan. Worse than this: whilst I was the otherday calling upon the French doctor at the hospital, the vilest fumesexuded from the room of one of the dressers. It appeared that the doctorcould not break his men of the habit. But we remember that thephysician of older days was exhorted to heal himself. 

Just as I was beginning to think I had seen all there was to be seen, Iheard a scuffle, and saw a half-score of men surrounding a poorfrightened little fellow, to whom I was introduced. He was the littlebogus Emperor of China, the Young Pretender, to whom thousands ofYün-nan people, at the time of the dual decease in recent Chinesehistory, did homage, and kotowed, recognizing him as the new emperor. The story, not generally known outside the province, makes good reading. At the time of the death of the emperor and empress-dowager, anaboriginal family at the village of Kuang-hsi-chou, in the southeast ofYün-nan province, knowing that a successor to the throne must be found, and having a son of about eight years of age, put this boy up as apretender to the Chinese throne, and not without considerable success. The news spread that the new emperor was at the above-named village, andthe people for miles around flocked in great numbers to do him homage, congratulating themselves that the emperor should have risen from theimmediate neighborhood in which they themselves had passed a monotonousexistence. For weeks this pretense to the throne was maintained, until aminiature rebellion broke out, to quell which the Viceroy of Yün-nandispatched with all speed a strong body of soldiers. 

Everybody thought that the loss of a few heads and other Chinesetrivialities was to end this little flutter of the people. But not so. The whole of the family who had promoted this fictitious claim to thethrone--father, mother, brothers, sisters--were all put to death, mostof them in front of the eyes of the poor little fellow who was thevictim of their idle pretext. The military returned, reporting thateverything was now quiet, and a few days later, guarded by twentysoldiers, came this young pretender, encaged in one of the prison boxes, breaking his heart with grief. And it was he who was now conducted tomeet the foreigner. He has been confined within the prison since hearrived at the capital, and the object seems to be to keep him there, training and teaching him until he shall have arrived at an age when hecan be taught a trade. The tiny fellow is small for his eight years, andhis little wizened face, sallow and delicate, has a plausible tale totell. He is always fretting and grieving for those whose heads wereshown to him after decapitation. However, he is being cared for, and itis doubtful whether the authorities--or even the emperor himself--willmete out punishment to him when he grows older. He did nothing; he knewnothing. At the present time he is going through a class-book whichteaches him the language to be used in audience with the Son ofHeaven--he will probably be taken before the emperor when he is oldenough. But now he is not living the life of a boy--no playmates, notoys, no romps and frolics. He, like Topsy, merely grows--insurroundings which only a dark prison life can give him. 

This was the first time I had even been in prison in China. This remarkrather tickled the governor, and on taking my departure he assured methat it was an honor to him, which the Chinese language was too poor toexpress, that I should have allowed my honorable and dignified person tovisit his mean and contemptible abode. He commenced this compliment tome as he was showing me the well-equipped hospital in connection withthe prison--containing eight separate wards in charge of a Chinesedoctor. 

I smiled in return a smile of deepest gratitude, and waving a fondfarewell, left him in a happy mood. 

THE SCHOOLS

One would scarce dream of a university for the province of Yün-nan. Yetsuch is the case. 

In former days--and it is true, too, to a great extent to-day--theprominent place given to education in China rendered the village schoolsan object of more than common interest, where the educated men of theEmpire received their first intellectual training. Probably in no othercountry was there such uniformity in the standards of instruction. Everyeducated man was then a potential school master--this was certainly trueof Yün-nan. But all is now changing, as the infusion of the spirit ofthe phrase "China for the Chinese" gains forceful meaning among thepeople. 

The highest hill within the city precincts has been chosen as the sitefor a university, which is truly a remarkable building for WesternChina. One of the students of the late. Dr. Mateer (Shantung) was thearchitect--a man who came originally to the school as a teacher ofmathematics--and it cannot be said that the huge oblong building, with along narrow wing on either side of a central dome, is the acme of beautyfrom a purely architectural standpoint. 

Of red-faced brick, this university, which cost over two hundredthousand taels to build, is most imposing, and possesses conveniencesand improvements quite comparable to the ordinary college of the West. For instance, as I passed through the many admirably-equippedschoolrooms, well ventilated and airy, I saw an Italian who was layingin the electric light, [AC] the power for which was generated by animmense dynamo at the basement, upon which alone twenty thousand taelswere spent. Thirty professors have the control of thirty-two classrooms, teaching among other subjects mathematics, music, languages (chieflyEnglish and Japanese), geography, chemistry, astronomy, geology, botany, and so on. The museum, situated in the center of the building, does notcontain as many specimens as one would imagine quite easily obtainable, but there are certainly some capital selections of things natural tothis part of the Empire. 

The authorities probably thought I was rather a queer foreigner, wantingto see everything there was to see inside the official barriers in thecity. Day after day I was making visits to places where foreignersseldom have entered, and I do not doubt that the officials, whilsttreating me with the utmost deference and extreme punctiliousness, thought I was a sort of British spy. 

When I went to the Agricultural School, probably the most interestingvisit I made, I was met by the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, a keenfellow, who spoke English well, and who, having been trained atShanghai, and therefore understanding the idiosyncrasies of theforeigner's character, was invited to entertain. And this he did, but hewas careful that he did not give away much information regarding theprogress that the Yün-nanese, essentially sons of the soil, are makingin agriculture. For this School of Agriculture is an important adjunct. 

Scholars are taken on an agreement for three years, during which timethey are fed and housed at the expense of the school; if they leaveduring the specified period they are fined heavily. No less than 180boys, ranging from sixteen to twenty-three, are being trained here, withabout 120 paid apprentices. Three Japanese professors are employed--oneat a salary of two hundred dollars a month, and two others at threehundred, the latter having charge of the fruit and forest trees and theformer of vegetables. 

In years to come the silk industry of Yün-nan will rank among the chief, and the productions will rank among the best of all the eighteenprovinces. There are no less than ten thousand mulberry trees in theschool grounds for feeding the worms; four thousand catties of leavesare used every day for their food; five hundred immense trays ofsilkworms are constantly at work here. The worms are in the charge ofscholars, whose names appear on the various racks under their charge, and the fact that feeding takes place every two hours, day and night, issufficient testimony that the boys go into their work with commendableenergy. As I was being escorted around the building, through shed aftershed filled with these trays of silkworms, several of the scholars madeup a sort of procession, and waited for the eulogy that I freelybestowed. In another building small boys were spinning the silk, andfarther down the weavers were busy with their primitive machinery, withwhich, however, they were turning out silk that could be sold in Londonat a very big price. The colorings were specially beautiful, and thefiguring quite good, although the head-master of the school told me thathe hoped for improvements in that direction. And I, looking wise, although knowing little about silk and its manufacture, heartily agreedwith the little fat man. 

There is a department for women also, and contrary to custom, I had alook around here, too. The girls were particularly smart at spinning. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AC: Soon afterwards a disturbance occurred among the students, and had it not been for the promptitude of the inspector, some of themmight have lost their heads. 

The electric light had just been laid in, and was working so well thatthe authorities found it imperative to charge each of the 400 residentstudents one dollar per month for the upkeep. This simple edict was thecause of the riot In a body the boys rolled up their pukais, and marcheddown to the main entrance, declaring that they were determined to resignif the order was not rescinded. The inspector, however, had had all thedoors locked. The frenzied students broke these open, and incidentallythrashed some of the caretakers for interfering in matters which werenot considered to be strictly their business. 

Subsequently the Chancellor of Education visited the college in person, but no heed was paid to his exhortations, and it was only when thedollar charge for lighting was reduced that peace was restored. 

The Chancellor, as a last word, told them that if they vacated theirschoolrooms a fine of about a hundred taels would be imposed upon eachman. 

The occasion was marked by all the foolish ardor one finds among collegeboys at home, and it seems that, despite the enormous amount of moneythe college is costing to run, the students are somewhat out ofhand. --E. J. D. ]

SECOND JOURNEY

YÜN-NAN-FU TO TALI-FU (VIA CH'U-HSIONG-FU)

CHAPTER XV. 

_Stages to Tali-fu_. _Worst roads yet experienced_. _Stampede amongponies_. _Hybrid crowd at Anning-cheo_. _Simplicity of life of commonpeople_. _Does China want the foreigner? Straits Settlements and ChinaProper compared_. _China's aspect of her own position_. _Renaissance ofChinese military power_. _Europeans_ NOT _wanted in the Empire_. _Emptiness of the lives of the common people_. _Author erects a printingmachine in Inland China_. _National conceit_. _Differences in make-up ofthe Hua Miao and the Han Ren_. _The Hua Miao and what they are doing_. _Emancipation of their women_. _Tribute to Protestant missionaries_. _Betrothal and marriage in China_. _Miao women lead a life of shame andmisery_. _Crude ideas among Chinese regarding age of foreigners_. _Mustyman and dusty traveller at Lao-ya-kwan_. _Intense cold_. _Salt trade_. _Parklike scenery, pleasant travel, solitude. _

From the figures of heights appearing below, one would imagine thatbetween the capital and Tali-fu hard climbing is absent. But during eachstage, with the exception of the journey from Sei-tze to Sha-chiao-kai, there is considerable fatiguing uphill and downhill work, each eveningbringing one to approximately the same level as that from which hestarted his morning tramp. I went by the following route:--

 Length of Height stage above sea 1st day--Anning-cheo 70 li 6, 300 ft. 2nd day--Lao-ya-kwan 70 li 6, 800 ft. 3rd day--Lu-fêng-hsien 75 li 5, 500 ft. 4th day--Sei-tze 80 li 6, 100 ft. 5th day--Kwang-tung-hsien 60 li 6, 300 ft. 6th day--Rest day. 7th day--Ch'u-hsiong-fu 70 li 6, 150 ft. 8th day--Luho-kai 60 li 6, 000 ft. 9th day--Sha-chiao-kai 65 li 6, 400 ft. 10th day--Pu-pêng 90 li 7, 200 ft. 11th day--Yün-nan-ï 65 li 6, 800 ft. 12th day--Hungay 80 li 6, 000 ft. 14th day--Chao-chow 60 li 6, 750 ft. 15th day--Tali-fu 60 li 6, 700 ft. 

A long, winding and physically-exhausting road took me fromSha-chiao-kai to Yin-wa-kwan, the most elevated pass between Yün-nan-fuand Tali-fu, and continued over barren mountains, bereft of shelter, andvoid of vegetation and people, to Pupêng. A rough climb of an hour and ahalf then took me to the top of the next mountain, where roads and rutsfollowed a high plateau for about thirty li, and with a precipitousdescent I entered the plain of Yün-nan-ï. Then over and between barrenhills, passing a small lake and plain with the considerable town ofYün-nan-hsien ten li to the right, I continued in a narrow valley andover mountains in the same uncultivated condition to Hungay, situated ina swampy valley. Having crossed this valley, another rough climb bringsthe traveler to the top of the next pass, Ting-chi-ling, whence the roaddescends, and leads by a well-cultivated valley to Chao-chow. After aneasy thirty li we reached Hsiakwan, [AD] one of the largest commercialcities in the province, lying at the foot of the most magnificentmountain range in Yün-nan, and by the side of the most famous lake. Apaved road takes one in to his destination at Tali-fu, where I waswelcomed by Dr. And Mrs. Clark, of the China Inland Mission, andhospitably entertained for a couple of days. 

The roads in general from Yün-nan-fu to Tali-fu were worse than any Ihave met from Chung-king onwards, partly owing to the mountainouscondition of the country, and partly to neglect of maintenance. 

Where the road is paved, it is in most places worse than if it had notbeen paved at all, as neither skill nor common sense seems to have beenexercised in the work. It is probably safe to say that there are noancient roads in Yün-nan, in the sense of the constructed highways whichhave lasted through the centuries, for the civilization of the earlyYün-nanese was not equal to such works. As a matter of fact, thecondition of the roads is all but intolerable. Many were never made, andare seldom mended--one may say that with very few exceptions they arenever repaired, except when utterly impassable, and then in the mostmake-shift manner. 

My highly-strung Rusty received a shock to his nervous system as I ledhim leisurely from the incline leading into Anning-cheo (6, 300 feet), through the arched gateway in a pagoda-like entrance, which when newwould have been a credit to any city. The stones of the main street wereso slippery that I could hardly keep on my legs. Frightened by one oftheir number dragging its empty wooden carrying frame along the groundbehind it, a drove of unruly-pack-ponies lashed and bucked and tossedthemselves out of order, and an instant afterwards came helter-skeltertowards my ten-inch pathway by the side of the road. All of my mencaught the panic, and in their mad rush several were knocked down andtrampled upon by the torrent of frightened creatures. I thought I wasbeing charged by cavalry, but beyond a good deal of bruising I escapedunhurt. Closer and closer came the hubbub and the din of the town--themarket was not yet over. As I approached the big street, throngs ofblue-cottoned yokels, quite out of hand, created a nerve-racking uproar, as they thriftily drove their bargains. I shrugged my shoulders, gazedlong and earnestly at the motley mob, and putting on a bold front, pushed through in a careless manner. Ponies with salt came in from theother end of the town, and in their waddling the little brutes gave memore knocks. 

It was an awful crowd--Chinese, Minchia, Lolo, and other specimens ofhybridism unknown to me. Yet I suppose the majority of them may becalled happy. Certainly the simplicity of the life of the common people, their freedom from fastidious tastes, which are only a fetter in our ownWestern social life, their absolute independence of furniture in theirhomes, their few wants and perhaps fewer necessities, when contrastedwith the demands of the Englishman, is to them a state of highcivilization. Here were farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, and retiredpeople living a simple, unsophisticated life. All the strength of theworld and all its beauties, all true joy, everything that consoles, thatfeeds hope, or throws a ray of light along our dark paths, everythingthat enables us to discern across our poor lives a splendid goal and aboundless future, comes to us from true simplicity. I do not say that weget all this from the Chinese, but in many ways they can teach us how tolive in the _spirit of simplicity_. They were living from hand to mouth, with seemingly no anxieties at all--and yet, too, they were livingwithout God, and with very little hope. 

And here the foreigner re-appeared to disturb them. Even in Anning-cheo, only a day from the capital, I was regarded as a being of anotherspecies, and was treated with little respect. I was not wanted. 

No international question has become more hackneyed than "Does Chinawant the foreigner?" Columns of utter nonsense have from time to timebeen printed in the English press, purporting to have come from mensupposed to know, to the effect that this Empire is crying out, waitingwith open arms to welcome the European and the American with all hisadvanced methods of Christendom and civilization. It has by generalassent come to be understood that China _does_ want the foreigner. Butthose who know the Chinese, and who have lived with them, and know theirinherent insincerity in all that they do, still wonder on, and stillask, "Does she?"

To the European in Hong-Kong, or any of the China ports, havingtrustworthy Chinese on his commercial staff--without whom fewbusinesses in the Far East can make progress--my argument may seem tohave no _raison d'etre_. He will be inclined to blurt out vehemently theabsurdity of the idea that the Chinese do not want the foreigner. First, they cannot do without him if China is to come into line as a greatnation among Eastern and Western powers. And then, again, could anyonedoubt the sincerity of the desire on the part of the Celestial forcloser and downright friendly intercourse if he has had nothing morethan mere superficial dealings with them?

Thus thought the writer at one time in his life. He has had in a largecommercial firm some of the best Chinese assistants living, in China orout of it, and has nothing but praise for their assiduous perseveranceand remarkable business acumen and integrity. 

As a business man, I admire them far and away above any other race ofpeople in the East and Far East. Is there any business man in theStraits Settlements who has not the same opinion of the Straits-bornChinese? But as one who has traveled in China, living among the Chineseand with them, seeing them under all natural conditions, at home intheir own country, I say unhesitatingly that at the present time only aninfinitesimal percentage of the population of the vast Interiorentertain genuine respect for the white man, and, in centers whereWestern influence has done so much to break down the old-time hatredtowards us, the real, unveneered attitude of the ordinary Chinese is onenot calculated to foster between the Occident and the Orient thebrotherhood of man. Difficult is it for the foreigner in civilized partsof China--and impossible for the great preponderance of the Europeanpeoples at home--to grasp the fact that in huge tracts of Interior Chinathe populace have never seen a foreigner, save for the ubiquitousmissionary, who takes on more often than not the dress of the native. 

Although the Chinese Government recognizes the dangerous situation ofthe nation _vis-à-vis_ with nations of Europe, and has ratified onetreaty after another with us, the nation itself does not, so far as thetraveler can see, appreciate the fact that she cannot possibly resistthe white man, and hold herself in seclusion as formerly from theWestern world. China is discovering--has discovered officially, althoughthat does not necessarily mean nationally--as Japan did so admirablywhen her progress was most marked, that steam and machinery have madethe world too small for any part thereof to separate itself entirelyfrom the broadening current of the world's life. 

Whilst not for a moment failing to admire the aggressive character ofOccidentals, and the resultant necessity of thwarting them--we see[1]this especially in official circles in Yün-nan--Chinese leaders ofthought and activity are recognizing that in international relations thefinal appeal can be only to a superior power, and that power, to besuperior, must be thorough, and thorough throughout. So different towhat has held good in China for countless ages. That is why China ismaking sure of her army, and why she will have ready in 1912--ten yearsbefore the period originally intended--no less than thirty-sixdivisions, each division formed of ten thousand units. [A] China is nowendeavoring to walk the ground which led Japan to greatness among thenations--she takes Japan as her pattern, and thinks that what Japan hasdone she can do--and, officially abandoning her long course ofself-sufficient isolation, is plunging into the flood of internationalprogress, determined to acquire all the knowledge she can, and thus winfor herself a place among the Powers. 

But I am in Yün-nan, and things move slowly here. 

All this does not mean that my presence is desired, or that fear of me, the foreigner, has ceased. On the contrary, it signifies that I am moregreatly to be feared. The European is _not_ wanted in China, no matterhow absurd it may seem to the student of international politics, whosits and devours all the newspaper copy--good, bad andindifferent--which filters through regarding China becoming the ElDorado of the Westerner. He is wanted for no other reason than that ofteaching the Chinese to foreignize as much as he can, teaching theleaders of the people to strive to modify national life, and to raisepublic conduct and administration to the best standards of the West. 

When China is capable of looking after herself, and able to maintain theposition she is securing by the aid of the foreigner in her provinces, following her present mode of thought and action, the foreigner may goback again. But it is to be hoped that the evolution of the country willbe different. 

Another feature impressed upon me was the emptiness of the lives of thepeople. Education was rare, and any education they had was confined tothe Chinese classics. 

Neither of the three men I had with me could read or write. The thoughtsof these people are circumscribed by the narrow world in which theylive, and only a chance traveler such as myself allows them a glimpse ofother places. Each man, with rare exception, lives and labors and dieswhere he is born--that is his ambition; and in the midst of a peoplewhose whole outlook of life is so contracted, I find difficulty inbelieving that progress such as Japan made in her memorable fifty-yearforward movement will be made by the Chinese of Yün-nan in two hundredyears. Everything one can see around him here, at this town ofAnning-cheo, seems to make against it. In my dealings with Chinese intheir own country--I speak broadly--I have found that they "knoweverything. " I erected a printing-press in Tong-ch'uan-fu some monthsago--a type of the old flat handpress not unlike that first used byCaxton. It was a part of the equipment of the Ai Kueh Hsieh Tang (Loveof Country School), and I was invited by the gentry to erect it. Now thething had not been up an hour before all the old fossils in the placeknew all about it. Printing to them was easy--a child could do it. It isalways, "O ren teh, o ren teh" ("I know, I know"). These men, dressed intheir best, stood with arms behind them, and smiled stupidly as Ilabored with my coat off fixing their primitive machinery. Yet they did_not_ know, and now, within a few months, not a sheet has been printed, and the whole plant is going to rack and ruin. 

This is the difference between the Chinese and the tribespeople ofYün-nan. Here we see the god of the missionary again, quite apart fromany religious basis. The tribesman comes and lays himself at the feet ofthe missionary, and says at once, "I do not know. Tell me, and I willfollow you. I want to learn. " That is why it is that the Chinese standopen-eyed and open-mouthed when they see the Miao making stridesaltogether impossible to themselves, in proportion to their standard ofcivilization, and this position of things will not be altered, unlessthey cease to deceive themselves. I have seen a Miao boy of nine whonever in his life had seen a Chinese character, who did not know thatschool existed and, whose only tutoring depended on the week's visit ofthe missionary twice a year. I have seen this youngster read off a sheetof Chinese characters no Chinese boy of his age in the whole city wouldsucceed in. I have not been brought into contact with any other tribe asI have with the Hua Miao. [1]

But if the progress this once-despised people are making is maintained, the Yün-nanese will very soon be left behind in the matter of practicalscholarship. These Miao live the simplest of simple lives, but they wishto become better--to live purer lives, to become civilized, to beuplifted; and therefore they are most humble, most approachable, and areslowly evolving into a happy position of proud independence. Educationamong the Hua Miao is not lost: among the Chinese much of the labor putforward in endeavors to educate them is lost, or seems to bear noimmediate fruit. The Miao are living by confidence and hope that turnstowards the future; the Yün-nanese are content with their confidence inthe past. The Miao, however, were not like this always--but a few yearsago they were not heard of outside China. 

The coming emancipation of their women, demands some attention. The fewEuropeans who have lived among the multitudes in Central China would notassociate beds of roses with the lives of the women anywhere. 

The daughter is seldom happy, and unless the wife present her husbandwith sons, who will perpetuate the father's name and burn incense at histablet after his death, her life is more often than not made absolutelyunbearable--a fact more than any other one thing responsible for thenumerous suicides. She is the drudge, the slave of the man. And thepopular belief is that all the women of the Middle Kingdom areessentially Chinese; but little is heard of the tribespeople--morenumerous probably than in any other given area in all the world--whosewomankind are as far removed from the Chinese in language, habits andcustoms as English ladies of to-day are removed from Grecians. A decadeor so ago no one heard of the Miao women: they were the lowest of thelow, having no _status_. They were far worse off than their Chinesesisters, who, no matter what they had to endure after marriage, werecertainly safeguarded by law and etiquette allowing them to enter themarried state with respectability; but no social laws, no social tiesprotect the Miao women. 

Until a few years ago their "club" was a common brothel, too horrible todescribe in the English language. As soon as a girl gave birth to herfirst child she came down on the father to keep her. In many cases, itis only fair to say, they lived together faithfully as man and wife, although such cases were not by any means in the majority. The poorcreatures herded together in their unspeakable vice and infamy, with noshame or common modesty, fighting for the wherewithal to live, and onlyby chance living regularly with one man, and then only just so long ashe wished. Little girls of ten and over regularly attended these awfulhovels, and children grew out of their childhood with no other visionthan that of entering into the disgraceful life as early as Nature wouldallow them. It meant little less than that practically the whole of thepopulation was illegitimate, viewed from a Western standpoint. No suchthing as marriage existed. Men and women cohabited in this horrible orgyof existence, with the result that murder, disease and pestilence wererife among them. It was only a battle of the survival of the fittest topursue so terrible a life. Nearly all the people were diseased by thetransgression of Nature's laws. 

After a time, however, through the instrumentality of Protestantmissionaries, these wretched people began to see the light ofcivilization. Gradually, and of their own free will, the girls gave uptheir accursed dens of misery and shame, and the men lived more inaccord with social law and order. 

The Miao, too, had hitherto been dependent for their literature upon theChinese character, which only a few could understand. Soon they hadliterature in their own language, [AE] and a great social reform set in. They showed a desire for Western learning such as has seldom been seenamong any people in China--these were people lowest down in the socialscale; and now the latest phase is the establishment of bethrothal andmarriage laws, calculated to revolutionize the community and tointroduce what in China is the equivalent for home life. 

Betrothal among the Chinese is a matter with which the parties mostdeeply concerned have little to do. Their parents engage a go-between ormatch-maker, and another point is that there is no age limit. Not so nowwith the Christian Miao. No paid go-between is engaged, and brides areto be at a minimum age of eighteen years, and bridegrooms twenty. Theestablishment of these laws will, it is hoped, make for the emancipationfrom a life of the most dreadful misery of thousands of women in one ofthe darkest countries of the earth. [AF]

But now the Miao is pressing forward under his burdens, to guide himselfin the struggle, to retrieve his falls and his failures; and in thefuture lies his hope--the indomitable hope upon which the interest ofhumanity is based--and he has in addition the grand expectation ofescaping despair even in death. It is all the praiseworthy work of ourfellow-countrymen, living isolated lives among the people, building up aworthy Christian structure upon Miao simplicity and humble fidelity tothe foreigner. 

But I digress from my travel. 

Little out of the ordinary marked my travels to Lao-ya-kwan (6, 800feet), an easy stage. My meager tiffin at an insignificant mountainvillage was, as usual, an educational lesson to the natives. Each tinthat came from my food basket--one's servant delighted to lay out thewhole business--underwent the severest criticism tempered with unmeaningeulogy, picked up and put down by perhaps a score of people, who did notmean to be rude. When I used their chopsticks--dirty little pieces ofbamboo--in a manner very far removed from their natural method, theywere proud of me. Outrageously panegyric references were made when anold man, scratching at his disagreeable itch-sores under my nose, clipped a youngster's ear for hazarding my age to be less than that ofany of the bystanders, the length of my moustache and a three-day growthon my chin giving them the opinion that I was certainly over sixty. [AG]

I entered Lao-ya-kwan under an inauspicious star. No accommodation wasto be had, all the inns were literally overrun with sedan chairs andfilled with well-dressed officials, already busy with the "hsi-lien"(wash basin). In my dirty khaki clothes, out at knee and elbow, lookingmusty and mean and dusty, with my topee botched and battered, Ipresented a most unhappy contrast as I led my pony down the street underthe sarcastic stare of bystanding scrutineers. The nights were cold, andin the private house where I stayed, mercifully overlooked by a trio ofprotesting effigies with visages grotesque and gruesome, rats ranfearlessly over the room's mud floor, and at night I buried my head inmy rugs to prevent total disappearance of my ears by nibbling. Not so mymen. They slept a few feet from me, three on one bench, two on another. Bedding was not to be had, and so among the dirty straw they huddledtogether as closely as possible to preserve what bodily heat they had. Snow fell heavily. In the early morning sunlight on January 13th theundulating valley, with its grand untrodden carpet of white, lookedmagnificently beautiful as I picked out the road shown me by a poorfellow whose ears had got frost-nipped. 

No easy work was it climbing tediously up the narrow footway in a sharpspur rising some 1, 000 feet in a ribbed ascent, overlooking a fearfuldrop. Over to the left I saw an unhappy little urchin, hardly a ragcovering his shivering, bleeding body, grovelling piteously in thesnow, while his blind and goitrous mother did her best at gatheringfirewood with a hatchet. The pass leading over this range, through whichthe white crystalline flakes were driven wildly in one's face, was ahalf-moon of smooth rock actually worn away by the endless tramping ofmyriads of pack-ponies, who then were plodding through ruts of stepsalmost as high as their haunches. 

A man with a diseased hip joined me thirty li farther on, dismountingfrom his pile of earthly belongings which these men fix on the backs oftheir ponies. It is a creditable trapeze act to effect a mount afterthe pony is ready for the journey. He had, he said, met me before. Heknew that I was a missionary, and had heard me preach. He remembered mywife and myself and children passing the night in the same inn in whichhe stayed on one of his pilgrimages from his native town somewhere tothe east of the province. I had never seen him before! I had no wife; Ihave never preached a sermon in my life. I should be pained ever againto have to suffer his unmannerly presence anywhere. 

Ponies were being loaded near my table. The rapscallion in questionexplained that the black blocks were salt, taking a pinch from mysalt-cellar with his grimy fingers to add point to his remarks. I kickedat a couple of mongrels under the rude form on which I sat--they foughtfor the skins of those potato-like pears which grow here soprolifically. The person announced that they were dogs, and that anidiosyncrasy of Chinese dogs was to fight. Several wags joined in, andall appeared, through the traveling nincompoop, to know all about mypast and present, lapsing into a desultory harangue upon all men andthings foreign. The street reminded me of Clovelly--rugged andragged--and the people were wrinkled and wretched; and, indeed, being aDevonian myself by birth, I should be excused of wantonly intending tohurt the delicate feelings of the lusty sons of Devon were I to declarethat I thought the life not of a very terrible dissimilarity from thatport of antiquity in the West. 

Salt was everywhere, much more like coal than salt, certainly as black. The blocks were stacked up by the sides of inns ready for transport, carried on the backs of a multitude of poor wretches who work like oxenfrom dawn to dusk for the merest pittance, on the backs of droves anddroves of ponies, scrambling and spluttering along over the slipperyonce-paved streets. 

All day long, with the exception of two or three easy ascents, we weretravelling in pleasantly undulating country of park-like magnificence. My men dallied. I tramped on alone; and sitting down to rest on therocks, I realized that I was in one of the strangest, loneliest, wildestcorners of the world. Great mountain-peaks towered around me, white andsparkling diadems of wondrous beauty, and at my feet, black andstirless, lay a silent pool, reflecting the weird shadows of my cooliesflitting like specters among the jagged rocks of these most solitaryhills. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AD: Hsiakwan would be supplied by a branch line of the mainrailway in the Kunlong scheme advocated by Major H. R. Davies, leaving atMi-tu, to the south of Hungay. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AE: The written language was framed and instituted by the Rev. Sam. Pollard, of the Bible Christian Mission (now merged into the UnitedMethodist Mission). --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AF: The marriage laws were instituted by the China InlandMission at Sa-pu-shan, where a great work is being done among the HuaMiao. A good many more stipulations are embodied in the excellent rules, but I have no room here to detail. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AG: The Chinese have the crudest ideas of the age offoreigners. Among themselves the general custom is for a man to shavehis upper lip so long as his father is alive, so that in the ordinarycourse a man wearing a moustache is looked upon as an old man. InTong-ch'uan-fu the rumor got abroad that three "uei kueh ren" ("foreignmen") went riding horses--(two young ones and one old one. The "old one"was myself, because I had hair on my top lip, despite the fact that Iwas considerably the junior. And the fact that one was a lady was notdeemed worthy of the slightest consideration. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER XVI. 

_Lu-fêng-hsien and its bridge_. _Magnificence of mountains towards thecapital_. _Opportunity for Dublin Fusiliers_. _Characteristic climbing. Crockery crash and its sequel_. _Mountain forest_. _Changeableness ofclimate_. _Wayside scene and some reflections_. _Is your master drunk?Babies of the poor_. _Loess roads_. _Travelers, and how they shouldtravel_. _Wrangling about payment at the tea-shop_. _The lying art amongthe Chinese_. _Difference of the West and East_. _Strange Chinesecharacteristic_. _Eastern and Western civilization, and how it isworking_. _Remarks on the written character and Romanisation_. _WillChina lose her national characteristics? "Ih dien mien, ih dien mien. "__A nasty experience of the impotently dumb_. _Rescued in the nick oftime. _

When the day shall come for its history to be told, the historian willhave little to say of Lu-fêng-hsien, that is--if he is a decent sort offellow. 

He may refer to its wonderful bridge, to its beggars and its ruins. Thestone bridge, one of the best of its kind in the whole empire, and Ishould think better than any other in Yün-nan, stands to-dayconspicuously emblematic of ill-departed prosperity. So far as Iremember, it was the only public ornament in a condition of passablerepair in any way creditable to the ratepayers of the hsien. The wall isdecayed, the people are decayed, and in every nook and cranny arepainful evidences of preventable decay, marked by a conservatism amongthe inhabitants and unpardonable indolence. 

The bridge, however, has stood the test of time, and bids fair to lastthrough eternity. Other travelers have passed over it since the days ofMarco Polo, but I should like to say a word about it. Twelve yards or sowide, and no less than 150 yards long, it is built entirely of greystone; with its massive piers, its excellent masonry, its good(although crude) carving, its old-time sculpturing of dreadful-lookinganimals at either end, its decorative triumphal arches, its masses ofmemorial tablets (which I could not read), its seven arches of beautifulsimplicity and symmetry and perfect proportion, it would have been acredit to any civilized country in the world. I noticed that, inaddition to cementing, the stones and pillars forming the sides of theroadway were also dovetailed. Among the works of public interest withwhich successive emperors have covered China, the bridges are not theleast remarkable; and in them one is able to realize the perseverance ofthe Chinese in the enormous difficulties of construction they have hadto overcome. 

Passing over the stream--the Hsiang-shui Ho, I believe--I stepped outacross the plain with one foot soaked, a pony having pulled me into thewater as he drank. Peas and beans covered with snow adjoined aheart-breaking road which led up to a long, winding ascent through aglade overhung by frost-covered hedgerows, where the sun came gentlythrough and breathed the sweet coming of the spring. From midway up themountain the view of the plain below and the fine range of hillsseparating me from the capital was one of exceeding loveliness, theundisturbed white of the snow and frost sparkling in the sunshinecontrasting most strikingly with the darkened waves of billowy greenopposite, with a background of sharp-edged mountains, whose summits wereonly now and again discernible in the waning morning mist. Snow lay deepin the crevices. My frozen path was treacherous for walking, but thedry, crisp air gave me a gusto and energy known only in high latitudes. In a pass cleared out from the rock we halted and gained breath for thesecond ascent, surmounted by a dismantled watch-tower. It has long sincefallen into disuse, the sound tiles from the roof having beenappropriated for covering other habitable dwellings near by, where onemay rest for tea. The road, paved in some places, worn from the side ofthe mountain in others, was suspended above narrow gorges, an entranceto a part of the country which had the aspect of northern regions. Thesun, tearing open the curtain of blue mist, inundated with brightnessone of the most beautiful landscapes it is possible to conceive. Ahandful of Dublin Fusiliers with quick-firing rifles concealed in thehollows of the heights might have stopped a whole army struggling up thehill-sides. But no one appeared to stop me, so I went on. 

Climbing was characteristic of the day. Lu-fêng-hsien is about 5, 500feet; Sei-tze (where we were to sleep) 6, 100 feet. Not much of adifference in height; but during the whole distance one is eitherdropping much lower than Lu-feng or much higher than Sei-tze. For thirtyli up to Ta-tsü-sï (6, 900 feet) there is little to revel in, but afterthat, right on to the terrific drop to our destination for the night, wewere going through mountain forests than which there are none better inthe whole of the province, unless it be on the extreme edge of theTibetan border, where accompanying scenery is altogether different. 

From a height of 7, 850 feet we dropped abruptly, through clouds of thickred dust which blinded my eyes and filled my throat, down to the city ofSei-tze. I went down behind some ponies. Upwards came a fellowstruggling with two loads of crockery, and in the narrow pathway hestood in an elevated position to let the animals pass. Irony of fate!One of the horses--it seemed most intentional--gave his load a tilt: manand crockery all went together in one heap to a crevice thirty yardsdown the incline, and as I proceeded I heard the choice rhetoric of thevictim and the muleteer arguing as to who should pay. 

Just before that, I dipped into the very bosom of the earth, withrugged hills rising to bewildering heights all around, base to summitclad luxuriously in thick greenery of mountain firs, a few cedars, andthe Chinese ash. Black patches of rock to the right were the death-bedof many a swaying giant, and in contrast, running away sunwards, asilver shimmer on the unmoving ocean of delicious green was caused bythe slantwise sun reflections, while in the ravines on the other side adark blue haze gave no invitation. Smoothly-curving fringes stood outsoftly against the eternal blue of the heavens. Farther on, eloquent oftheir own strength and imperturbability, were deep rocks, black anddefiant; but even here firs grew on the projecting ledges which now andagain hung menacingly above the red path, shading away the sunlight andgiving to the dark crevices an atmosphere of damp and cold, where men'svoices echoed and re-echoed like weird greetings from the grave. Onwardsagain, and from the cool ravines, adorned with overhang branches, forming cosy retreats from the now blazing sun, one emerged to a roadleading up once more to undiscovered vastnesses. Yonder narrowed agorge, fine and delicately covered, pleasing to one's aesthetic sense. The center was a dome, all full of life and waving leafage, ethereal andsweet; and running down, like children to their mother, were numerouslittle hills densely clothed in a green lighter and more dainty thanthat of the parent hill, throwing graceful curtsies to the murmuringriver at the foot. As I write here, bathed in the beauty of springsunlight, it is difficult to believe that a few hours since thethermometer was at zero. Little spots of habitation, with foodstuffsgrowing alongside, looking most lonely in their patches of green in theforest, added a human and sentimental picturesqueness to a scene sostrongly impressive. 

A thatched, barn-like place gave us rest, the woman producing for me ahuge chunk of palatable rice sponge-cake sprinkled with brown sugar. Little naked children, offspring of parents themselves covered withmerest hanging rags, groped round me and treated me with courteouscuriosity; goats smelt round the coolie-loads of men who rested on lowforms and smoked their rank tobacco; smoke from the green wood firesissued from the mud grates, where receptacles were filled with boilingwater ready for the traveler, constantly re-filled by a woman whosechild, hung over her back, moaned piteously for the milk its mother wastoo busy to give to it. Near by a young girl gave suck to a deformedinfant, lucky to have survived its birth; her neck was as big as herbreasts--merely a case of goitre. Coolies passed, panting and puffing, all casting a curious glance at him to whose beneficence all werewilling to pander. 

At tiffin I counted thirty-three wretched people, who turned out to seethe barbarian. They desired, and desired importunately, to touch me andthe clothes which covered me. And I submitted. 

This half-way place was interesting owing to the fact that the lady incharge of the buffet could speak two words of French--she had, Ibelieve, acted as washerwoman to a man who at one time had been in theCustoms at Mengtsz. Great excitement ensued among the perspiringlaborers of the road and the dumb-struck yokels of the district. Thelady was so goitrous that it would have been extremely risky to hazard aguess as to the exact spot where her face began or ended; and here, in aplace where with all her neighbors she had lived through a period notedfor famine, for rebellion, for wholesale death and murder of an entirevillage, she endured such terrible poverty that one would have thoughther spirit would have waned and the light of her youth burned out. Butno! The lusty dame was still sprightly. She had been three timesdivorced. The person at present connected with her in the bonds ofwedded life--also goitrous and morally repulsive--stood by and gazeddown upon her like a proud bridegroom. He resented the levity of Shanksand his companion, but, owing to the detail of a sightless eye, he couldnot see all that transpired. However, we were all happy enough. Chargeswere not excessive. My men had a good feed of rice and cabbage, with theusual cabbage stump, two raw rice biscuits (which they threw into theashes to cook, and when cooked picked the dirt off with their longfinger-nails), and as much tea as they could drink--all for less than apenny. 

There is something in traveling in Yün-nan, where the people away fromthe cities exhibit such painful apathy as to whether dissolution of thislife comes to them soon or late, which breeds drowsiness. After a trampover mountains for five or six hours on end, one naturally needed rest. To-day, as I sat after lunch and wrote up my journal, I nearly fellasleep. As I watched the reflections of all these ill-clad figures onthe stony roadway, and dozed meanwhile, one rude fellow asked my manwhether I was drunk!

I was not left long to my reverie. 

Entering into a conversation intended for the whole village to hear, mybulky coolie sublet his contract for two tsien for the eighty li--we hadalready done fifty. The man hired was a weak, thin, half-baked fellow, whose body and soul seemed hardly to hang together. He was the first toarrive. As soon as he got in; this same man took a needle from theinside of his great straw hat and commenced ridding his pants ofsomewhat outrageous perforations. Such is the Chinese coolie, althoughin Yün-nan he would be an exception. Late at night he offered to put ashoe on my pony. I consented. He did the job, providing a new shoe andtools and nails, for 110 cash--just about twopence. 

I could not help, thinking of the children I had seen to-day, "Sad forthe dirt-begrimed babies that they were born. " These children were all afamily of eternal Topsies--they merely grew, and few knew how. They arerather dragged up than brought up, to live or die, as time mightappoint. Babies in Yün-nan, for the great majority, are not coaxed, nottossed up and down and petted, not soothed, not humored. There are noneto kiss away their tears, they never have toys, and dream no youngdreams, but are brought straight into the iron realities of life. Theyare reared in smoke and physical and moral filth, and become men andwomen when they should be children: they haggle and envy, and swear andmurmur. When in Yün-nan--or even in the whole of China--will there bethe innocence and beauty of childhood as we of the West are blessedwith?

Roads here were in many cases of a light loess, and some of redlimestone rock, with a few li of paved roads. Many of the main roadsover the loess are altered by the rains. Two days of heavy rain willproduce in some places seas of mud, often knee-deep, and this will againdry up quite as rapidly with the next sunshine. They become undermined, and crumble away from the action of even a trickling stream, so as tobecome always unsafe and sometimes quite impassable. 

Delays are very dear to the heart of every Chinese. The traveler, if heis desirous of getting his caravan to move on speedily, has littlechance of success unless he assumes an attitude of profoundestindifference to all men and things around him--never _appear_ to be in ahurry. 

We are accompanied to-day to Kwang-tung-hsien by the coolie who carriedthe load yesterday. He sits by staring enviously at his compatriots inthe employ of the foreign magnate, who rests on a stone behind andlistens to the conversation. They invite him to carry again; he refuses. Now the argument--natural and right and proper--is ensuing with warmth. Lao Chang, with the air of a hsien "gwan, " sits in judgment upon them, bringing to bear his long experience of coolies and the amount of"heart-money" they receive, and has decided that the fellow shouldreceive a tenth of a dollar and twenty cash in addition for carrying theheavier of the loads the remaining thirty li, as against ten centsoffered by the men. He is now extending philosophic advice to them all, based on a knowledge of the coolie's life; the little meeting breaks up, good feeling prevails, and the loads carried on merrily. I still linger, sipping my tea. Lao Chang has grumbled because he has had to shell outseven cash, and I have already drunk ten cups (he generally uses the tealeaves afterwards for his personal use). 

But wrangling about payment prevails always where Chinese congregate. InChina, by high and low, lies are told without the slightest apparentcompunction. One of the men in the above-mentioned dispute had anirrepressible volubility of assertion. He at once flew into a temper, adopting the style of the stage actor, proclaiming his virtue so that itmight have been heard at Yün-nan-fu. He was preserving his "face. " Forin this country temper is often, what it is not in the West, a test oftruth. Among Westerners nothing is more insulting sometimes than aphilosophic temper; but in China you must, as a first law unto yourself, protect yourself at all costs and against all comers, and it generallyrequires a good deal of noise. Here the bully is not the coward. Inrespect of prevarication, it seems to be absolutely universal; the poorcopy the vice from the rich. It seems to be in the very nature of thepeople, and although it is hard to write, my experience convinces methat my statement is not exaggeration. I have found the Chinese--I speakof the common people, for in my travels I have not mixed much with therich--the greatest romancer on earth. I question whether the greatpreponderance of the Chinese people speak six consecutive sentenceswithout misrepresentation or exaggeration, tantamount to prevarication. Regretting that I have to write it, I give it as my opinion that theChinese is a liar by nature. And when he is confronted with the chargeof lying, the culprit seems seldom to feel any sense of guilt. 

And yet in business--above the petty bargaining business--we have as theantithesis that the spoken word is his bond. I would rather trust theChinese merely on his word than the Jap with a signed contract. 

The Chinese knows that the Englishman is not a liar, and he respects himfor it; and it is to be hoped that in Yün-nan there will soon be seenthe two streams of civilization which now flow in comparative harmony inother more enlightened provinces flowing here also in a single channel. These two streams--of the East and the West--represent ideas in socialstructure, in Government, in standards of morality, in religion and inalmost every human conception as diverse as the peoples are raciallyapart. They cannot, it is evident, live together. The one is bound todrive out the other, or there must be such a modification of both aswill allow them to live together, and be linked in sympathies which gofarther than exploiting the country for initial greed. The Chinese willnever lose all the traces of their inherited customs of daily life, ofhabits of thought and language, products which have been borne down theages since a time contemporary with that of Solomon. No fair-minded manwould wish it. And it is at once impossible. 

The language, for instance. Who is there, who knows anything about it, who would wish to see the Chinese character drop out of the nationallife? Yet it is bound to come to some extent, and in future ages thewritten language will develop into pretty well the same as Latin amongourselves. Romanization, although as yet far from being accomplished, must sooner or later come into vogue, as is patent at the first glanceat business. If commerce in the Interior is to grow to any great extentin succeeding generations, warranting direct correspondence with theports at the coast and with the outside world, the Chinese hieroglyphwill not continue to suffice as a satisfactory means of communication. No correspondence in Chinese will ever be written on a machine such as Iam now using to type this manuscript, and this valuable adjunct of theoffice must surely force its way into Chinese commercial life. But onlywhen Romanization becomes more or less universal. 

This, however, by the way. 

My point is, that no matter how Occidentalized he may become, theChinese will never lose his national characteristics--not so muchprobably as the Japanese has done. What the youth has been at home, inhis habits of thought, in his purpose and spirit, in his manifestationof action, will largely determine his after life. Chinese mental andmoral history has so stamped certain ineffaceable marks on the language, and the thought and character of her people, that China will never--evenwere she so inclined--obliterate her Oriental features, and must alwaysand inevitably remain Chinese. The conflict, however, is not racial, itis a question of civilization. Were it racial only, to my way ofthinking we should be beaten hopelessly. 

And as I write this in a Chinese inn, in the heart of Yün-nan--the"backward province"--surrounded by the common people in their common, dirty, daily doings, a far stretch of vivid imagining is needed to seethese people in any way approaching the Westernization already currentin eastern provinces of this dark Empire. 

This is what I wrote sitting on the top of a mountain during my touracross China. But it will be seen in other parts of this book thatWestern ideas and methods of progress in accord more with Europeanstandards are being adopted--and in some places with considerableenergy--even in the "backward province. " In travel anywhere in theworld, one becomes absorbed more or less with one's own immediatesurroundings, and there is a tendency to form opinions on thelimitations of those surroundings. In many countries this would not leadone far astray, but in China it is different. Most of my opinion of thereal Chinese is formed in Yün-nan, and it is not to be denied that inall the other seventeen provinces, although a good many of them may bemore forward in the trend of national evolution and progress, the samesqualidness among the people, and every condition antagonistic to theWesterner's education so often referred to, are to be found. But Chinahas four hundred and thirty millions of people, so that what one writesof one particular province--in the main right, perhaps--may notnecessarily hold good in another province, separated by thousands ofmiles, where climatic conditions have been responsible for differencesin general life. With its great area and its great population, it doesnot need the mind of a Spencer to see that it will take generationsbefore every acre and every man will be gathered into the stream ofnational progress. 

The European traveler in China cannot perhaps deny himself the pleasureof dwelling upon the absurdities and oddities of the life as they strikehim, but there is also another side to the question. Our owncivilization, presenting so many features so extremely removed from hisown ancient ideas and preconceived notion of things in general, probablylooks quite as ridiculous from the standpoint of the Chinese. The Eastand the West each have lessons to offer the other. The West is offeringthem to the East, and they are being absorbed. And perhaps were we tolearn the lessons to which we now close our eyes and ears, but which arebeing put before us in the characteristics of Oriental civilization, wemay in years to come, sooner than we expect, rejoice to think that wehave something in return for what we have given; it may save us a rudeawakening. It does not strike the average European, who has never beento China, and who knows no more about the country than the telegramswhich filter through when massacres of our own compatriots occur, thatEurope and America are not the only territories on this little roundball where the inhabitants have been left with a glorious heritage. 

But I was speaking of my men delaying on the road to Kwang-tung-hsien, when they laughed at my impatience. 

"Ih dien mien, ih dien mien, " shouted one, as he held out a huge bluebowl of white wormlike strings and a couple of chopsticks. "Mien, " itshould be said, is something like vermicelli. A tremendous amount of itis eaten; and in Singapore, without exception, it is dried over thecity's drains, hung from pole to pole after the rope-maker's fashion. Its slipperiness renders the long boneless strings most difficult ofefficient adjustment, and the recollection of the entertainment mycomrades received as I struggled to get a decent mouthful sticks to mestill. 

After that I hurried on, got off the "ta lu, " and suffered a nastyexperience for my foolishness. When nearing the city, inquiring whethermy men had gone on inside the walls, a manure coolie, liar that he was, told me that they had. I strode on again, encountering the crowds whoblocked the roadway as market progressed, who stared in a suspiciousmanner at the generally disreputable, tired, and dirty foreigner. Eachmoment I expected the escort to arrive. I could not sit down and drinktea, for I had not a single cash on my person. I could speak none of thelanguage, and could merely push on, with ragtags at my heels, becomingmore and more embarrassed by the pointing and staring public. I turned, but could see none of my men. I managed to get to the outer gate, andthere sat down on the grass, with five score of gaping idiots in frontof me. Seeing this vulgar-looking intruder among them, who would notanswer their simplest queries, or give any reason for being there, suspicion grew worse; they naturally wanted to know what it was, andwhat it wanted. Some thought I might be deaf, and raved questions in myear at the top of their voices. Even then I remained impotently dumb. Two policemen came and said something. At their invitation I followedthem, and found myself later in a small police box, the street linedwith people, facing an officer. 

The man hailed me in speech uncivil. He was huge as the hyperboreanbear, and cruel looking, and with a sort of apologetic petitionary growlI sidled off; but it was anything but comfortable, and I should not havebeen surprised had I found myself being led off to the yamen. After anerve-trying half-hour, I was thankful to see the form of my menappearing at the moment when I was vehemently expressing indignation atnot being understood. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

_A bumptious official_. _Ignominious contrasts of two travelers. Diminishing respect for foreigners in the Far East_. _Where the Europeanfails_. _His maltreatment of Orientals_. _Convicts on the way to death_. _At Ch'u-hsiony-fu_. _Buffaloes and children_. _Exasperating repetitionmet in Chinese home life_. _Unĉsthetic womanhood_. _Quarrymen andcareless tactics_. _Scope for the physiologist_. _Interesting unit ofthe city's humanity_. _Signs of decay in the countryside_. _Carrying thedead to eternal rest_. _At Chennan-chou_. _Public kotowing ceremony andits aftermath_. _Chinese ignorance of distance. _

All-round idyllic peace did not reign at Kwang-tung-hsien, where Irested over Sunday. Contacts in social conditions gave rise inevitablyto causes for conflicts. 

Arriving early, my men were able to secure the best room and soon after, with much imposing pomp and show, a "gwan"[AH] arrived, disgusted that hehad to take a lower room. I bowed politely to him as he came in. He didnot return it, however, but stood with a contemptuous grin upon his faceas he took in the situation. I do not know who the person was, neitherhave a wish to trace his ancestry, but his bumptiousness and generalmisbehavior, utterly in antagonism to national etiquette, made me hatethe sight of the fellow. Pride has been said to make a man a hedgehog. Ido not say that this man was a hedgehog altogether, but he certainlyseemed to wound everyone he touched. He had with him a great retinue, anextravagant equipage, fine clothes, and presumably a great fortune; butnone of this offended me--it was his contempt which hurt. He seemed tosplash me with mud as he passed, and was altogether badly disposed. Inhis every act he heaped humiliation upon me, and insulted me silentlyand gratuitously with unbearable disdain. Luckily, be it said to thecredit of the Chinese Government, one does not often meet officials ofthis kind; such an atmosphere would nurture the worst feeling. It is, ofcourse, possible that had I been traveling with many men and in a stylenecessary for representatives of foreign Governments, this hog mighthave been more polite; but the fact that I had little with me, and madea poor sort of a show, allowed him to come out in his true colors anddisplay his unveneered feeling towards the foreigner. That he had noknowledge of the man crossing China on foot was evident. He was greatand rich--that was the sentiment he breathed out to everyone--and theforeigner was humble. There is no wrong in enjoying a large superfluity, but it was not indispensable to have displayed it, to have wounded theeyes of him who lacked it, to have flaunted his magnificence at the doorof my commonplace. 

Had I been able to speak, I should have pointed out to this fellow thatto know how to be rich is an art difficult to master, and that he hadnot mastered it; that as an official his first duty in exercising powerwas to learn that of humility; and that it is the irritating authorityof such very lofty and imperious beings as himself, who say, "I am thelaw, " that provokes insurrection. However, I was dumb, and could onlyreturn his contemptuous glance now and again. 

To him I could have said, as I would here say also to every foreigner inthe employ of the Chinese Government, "The only true distinction issuperior worth. " If foreigners in China are to have social and officialrank respected, they must begin to be worthy of their rank, otherwisethey help to bring it into hatred and contempt. It is a pity some nativeofficials have to learn the same lesson. 

In several years of residence in the Far East I have noticed respectfor the foreigner unhappily diminishing. The root of the evil is in themistaken idea that high station exempts him who holds it from observingthe common obligations of life. It comes about--so often have I seen itin the Straits Settlements and in various parts of India--that those whodemand the most homage make the least effort to merit that homage theydemand. That is chiefly why respect for the foreigner in the Orient isdiminishing, and I have no hesitancy in asserting that the averageEuropean in the East and Far East does not treat the Oriental withrespect. He considers that the Chinese, the Malay, the Burman, theIndian is there to do the donkey work only. The newcomer generallydiscovers in himself an astounding personal omnipotence, and even beforehe can talk the language is so obsessed with it that as he grows older, his sense of it broadens and deepens. And in China--of the Chinese thisis true to-day as in other spheres of the Far East--the native is thereto do the donkey work, and does it contentedly and for the most partcheerfully. But he will not always be so content and so cheerful. Hewill not always suffer a leathering from a man whom he knows he dare notnow hit back. [AI] Some day he may hit back. We have seen it before, howat some moment, by some interior force making a way to the light, anexplosion takes place: there is an upheaval, all sorts of gravedisorders, and because some Europeans are killed the CelestialGovernment is called upon to pay, and to pay heavily. Indemnities aregiven, but the Chinese pride still feels the smart. 

[1Pulling away up the sides of barren, sandy hills in my lonelypilgrimage, I could see wide, fertile plains sheltered in the undulatinghollows of mountains, over which in arduous toil I vanished andre-appeared, how or where I could hardly calculate. Suddenly, roundingan awkward corner, a magnificent panorama broke upon the view in arolling valley watered by many streams below, all green with growingwheat. A high spur about midway up the rolling mountain forms a capitalspot for wayfarers to stop and exchange travelers' notes. A couple ofconvicts were here, their feet manacled and their white cotton clothingbranded with the seal of death; by the side were the crude wooden cagesin which they were carried by four men, with whom they mixed freely andmanufactured coarse jokes. In six days bang would fall the knife, andtheir heads would roll at the feet of the executioners at Yün-nan-fu. 

Coming into Ch'u-hsiong-fu[AJ]--the stage is what the men call 90 li, butit is not more than 70--I was brought to an insignificant wayside placewhere the innkeeper upbraided my boy for endeavoring to allow me to passwithout wetting a cup at his bonny hostelry. Had I done so, I shouldhave avouched myself utterly indifferent to reputation as a traveler. 

But I did not stay the night here. I passed on through the town to a newbuilding, an inn, into which I peered inquiringly. A well-dressed ladcame courteously forward, in his bowing and scraping seeming to say, "Good sir, we most willingly embrace the opportunity of being honoredwith your noble self and your retinue under our poor roof. Long sincehave we known your excellent qualities; long have we wished to have youwith us. We can have no reserve towards a person of your open and noblenature. The frankness of your humor delights us. Disburden yourself, Ogreat brother, here and at once of your paraphernalia. "

I stayed, and was charged more for lodging than at any other place inall my wanderings in China. My experience was different from that ofMajor Davies when he visited this city in 1899. He writes:--

"The people of this town are particularly conservative and exclusive. They have such an objection to strangers that no inn is allowed withinthe city walls, and no one from any other town is allowed to establish ashop. . . . When the telegraph line was first taken through here there wasmuch commotion, and so determined was the opposition of the townspeopleto this new-fangled means of communication that the telegraph office hadto be put inside the colonel's yamen, the only place where it would besafe from destruction. "

The proprietor of the inn in which I stayed was a man of about fifty, ofgoodly person and somewhat corpulent, comely presence, good humor, andprivileged freedom. He had a pretty daughter. He was an exception to theordinary father in China, in the fact that he was proud of her, as hewas of his house and his faring. But in all conscience he should havebeen abundantly ashamed of his charges, for my boy said I was chargedthree times too much, and I have no cause for doubting his word either, for he was fairly honest. I once had a boy in Singapore who acted forthree weeks as a "ganti"[AK] whilst my own boy underwent a surgicaloperation, and between misreckonings, miscarriages, misdealings, mistakes and misdemeanors, had he remained with me another month Ishould have had to pack up lock, stock and barrel and clear. 

I stayed here a day in the hope of getting my mail, but had thepleasure of seeing only the bag containing it. It was sealed, and thepostmaster had no authority to break that seal. 

There were no telegraph poles in the district through which I waspassing; the connections were affixed to the trunks of trees. Thetelegraph runs right across the Ch'u-hsiong-fu plain, on entering whichone crosses a rustic bridge just below a rather fine pagoda, from whichan excellent view is obtained of the old city. The wall up towards thenorth gate, where there is another pagoda, is built over a high knoll. Inside the wall half the town is uncultivated ground. Four youngstershere were having a great time on the back of a lazy buffalo, who, turning his head swiftly to get rid of some irritating bee, dislodgedthe quartet to the ground, where they fought and cursed each other overthe business. 

Everything that one sees around here is particularly "Chinesey. " It maybe supposed that I am not the first person who has gone through townafter town and found in all that he looks at, particularly the houses, certain forms identical, inevitable, exasperating by common repetition. It has been said that poetry is not in things, it is in us; but in Chinavery little poetry comes into the homes and lives of the commonmillions: they are all dead dwelling-houses, even the best, bare homeswithout life or brightness. Among the working-classes of the West thereis to be found a kind of ministering beauty which makes its wayeverywhere, springing from the hands of woman. When the dwelling iscramped, the purse limited, the table modest, a woman who has the giftfinds a way to make order and puts care and art into everything in herhouse, puts a soul into the inanimate, and gives those subtle andwinsome touches to which the most brutish of human beings is sensible. But in China woman does nothing of this. Her life is unaesthetic to thelast degree. No happy improvisations or touches of the stamp ofpersonality enter her home; one cannot trace the touches of witchery inthe tying of a ribbon. Everywhere you find the same class of furnitureand garniture, the same shape of table, of stool, of form, of bed, ofcooking utensils, of picture, of everything; and all the details of herhousekeeping are so apathetically uninteresting. The Chinese woman hasno charming art, rather is it a common, horrid, daily grind. She is not, as the woman should be, the interpreter in her home of her own grace, and she differs from her Western sister in that it is impossible for herto express in her dress also the little personalities of character--allis eternally the same. But I know so very little of ladies' clothing, and therefore cease. 

Quarrying was going on high up among the hills as I left the city. Menwere out of sight, but their hammering was heard distinctly. As eachboulder was freed these wielders of the hammer yelled to passers-by tolook out for their heads, gave the stone a push to start it rolling, andif it rolled upon you it was your own fault and not theirs--you shouldhave seen to it that you were somewhere else at the time. If it blockedthe pathway, another had to be made by those who made the traffic. Directly under the quarry I was accosted by a beggar. "Old foreign man!Old foreign man!" he yelled. Stones were falling fast; it is possiblethat he does not sit there now. 

Physiognomists do not swarm in China. There is grand scope for someone. There would be ample material for research for the student in thesoldiers alone who would be sent to guard him from place to place. Hewould not need to go farther afield; for he would be given fat men andlean men, brave men and cowards, some blessed with brains and some notone whit brainy, civil and surly, stubby and lanky, but rogues and liarsall. Travelers are always interested in their chairmen; oftentimes myinterest in them was greater than theirs in me, until the time came forus to part. Then the "Ch'a ts'ien, "[AL] always in view from the outset oftheir duty, brought us in a manner nearer to each other. 

As I came out of the inn at Ch'u-hsiong-fu somewhat hurriedly, for mymen lingered long over the rice, I stumbled over the yamen fellow whocrouched by the doorside. He laughed heartily. Had I fallen on him histune might have been changed; but no matter. This unit of the cityhumanity was not bewilderingly beautiful. He was profoundlyill-proportioned, very goitrous, and ravages of small-pox had bequeathedto him a wonderful facial ugliness. He had, however, be it written tohis honor, learnt that life was no theory. One could see that at aglance as he walked along at the head of the procession, with a stridelike an ox, manfully shouldering his absurd weapon of office, which inthe place of a gun was an immense carved wooden mace, not unlike a legof the old-time wooden bedstead of antiquity. His ugliness wasembittered somewhat by sunken, toothless jaws and an enigmatical starefrom a cross-eye; he was also knock-kneed, and as an erstwhile gunpowderworker, had lost two fingers and a large part of one ear. But he hadlearnt the secret of simple duty: he had no dreams, no ambitionembracing vast limits, did not appear to wish to achieve great things, unless it were that in his fidelity to small things he laid the base ofgreat achievements. He waited upon me hand and foot; he burned withardor for my personal comfort and well-being; he did not complicate lifeby being engrossed in anything which to him was of no concern--his onlyconcern was the foreigner, and towards me he carried out his dutyfaithfully and to the letter. I would wager that that man, ugly of faceand form, but most kindly disposed to one who could communicate littlebut dumb approval, was an excellent citizen, an excellent father, anexcellent son. 

So very different was another traveler who unceremoniously forcedhimself upon me with the inevitable "Ching fan, ching fan, " although hehad no food to offer. He commenced with a far-fetched eulogium of myambling palfrey Rusty, who limped along leisurely behind me. So far ashe could remember, poor ignorant ass, he had never seen a pony like itin his extensive travels--probably from Yün-nan-fu to Tali-fu, if sofar; but as a matter of fact, Rusty had wrenched his right fore fetlockbetween a gully in the rocks the day before and was now going lame. Dressed fairly respectably in the universal blue, my unsought companionwas of middle stature, strongly built, but so clumsily as to borderalmost on deformity, and to give all his movements the ungainlyawkwardness of a left-handed, left-legged man. He walked with a limp, was suffering (like myself) with sore feet; if not that, it wassomething incomparably worse. Not for a moment throughout the day did heleave my side, the only good point about him being that when wedrank--tea, of course--he vainly begged to be allowed to pay. In that hewas the shadow of some of my friends of younger days. 

But of men enough. 

From Ch'u-hsiong-fu on to Tali-fu the whole country bears lamentablesigns of gradual ruin and decay, a falling off from better times. Theformer city is probably the most important point on the route, and ismentioned as a likely point for the proposed Yün-nan Railway. 

The country has never recovered from the terrible effects of the greatMohammendan Rebellion of 1857. Foundations of once imposing buildingsstill stand out in fearful significance, and ruins everywhere over thebarren country tell plain tales all too sad of the good days gone. Temples, originally fit for the largest city in the Empire, withelaborate wood and stone carving and costly, weird images sculptured instone, with particularly fine specimens of those blood-curdlingBuddhistic hells and their presiding monsters, with miniature ornamentalpagodas and intricate archways, are all now unused; and when the peopleneed material for any new building (seldom erected now in thisdistrict), the temple grounds are robbed still more. In the days of itsprosperity Yün-nan must have been a fair land indeed, bright, smiling, seductive; now it is the exact antithesis, and the people live sad, flat, colorless existences. 

For three days my caravan was preceded by twelve men, headed by a sortof gaffer with a gong, carrying a corpse in a massive black coffin, elaborate in red and blue silk drapings and with the inevitable whitecock presiding, one leg tied with a couple of strands of straw to thecover, on which it crowed lustily. Their mission was an honorable one, carrying the honored dead to its last bed of rest eternal; for this deadman had secured the fulfillment of the highest in human destiny--to havehis bones buried near the scene of his youth, near his home. This is asimple custom the Chinese cherish and reverence, of highest honor to thedead and of no mean value to the living. To the dead, because buriednear the home of his fathers he would not be subject to those delusivetemptations in the future state of that confused and complex life; tothe living, because it gave work to a dozen men for several days, andenabled them to have a good time at the expense of the departed. Aperpetual and excruciatingly unmusical chant, in keeping with theoccasion's sadness, rent the mountain air, interrupted only when thebearers lowered the coffin and left the remains of the great dead on apair of trestles in the roadway, whilst they drank to his happinessabove and smoked tobacco which the relatives had given them. Once thisheaper-up of Chinese merit[AM] was dumped unceremoniously on the turfwhile the headman entered into a blackguarding contest with one of thefellows who was alleged to be constantly out of step with his brethren, because he was a much smaller man. The gaffer gave him a bit of adrubbing for his insolence. 

Rain came on at Chennan-chou, a small town of about three hundredhouses, where I sought shelter in the last house of the street. Thehouseholder, a shrivelled, goitrous humpback, received me kindly, removed his pot of cabbage from the fire to brew tea for his uninvitedguest, and showed great gratitude (to such an extent that he nearly fellinto the fire as he moved to push the children forward towards me) whenI gave a few cash to three kiddies, who gaped open-mouthed at theapparition thus found unexpectedly before their parent's hearth. Morecame in, my beneficent attention being modestly directed towards them;others followed, and still more, and more, whilst the man, removing fromhis mouth his four-foot pipe, and wiping the mouthpiece with his soiledcoat-sleeve before offering it to me to smoke, smiled as I distributedmore cash. 

"They are all mine, " he said cutely. 

Poor fellow! There must have been a dozen nippers there, and I sighed atthe thought of what some men come to as the last of half a string ofcash slipped through my fingers. [AN]

Outside the town, on the lee side of a triumphal arch--erected, maybe, to the memory of one of the virtuous widows of the district--I untied mypukai and donned my mackintosh and wind-cap. A gale blew, my fingersached with the cold, breathing was rendered difficult by the rarefiedair. As we were thus engaged and discussing the prospects of the storm, yelling from under a gigantic straw hat, a fellow said--

"Suan liao" ("not worth reckoning") "only five more li toSha-chiao-kai. "

We had thirty li to do. Such is the idea of distance in Yün-nan. [AO]

The storm did not come, however, and my men ever after reminded me tokeep out my wind-cap and my mackintosh, partly to lighten their loads, of course, and partly on account of the good omen it seemed to them tobe. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AH: "Gwan" is the Chinese for "official. "]

[Footnote AI: I have seen a European, with an imperfect hold of aneastern language, knock an Asiatic down because he thought the man was afool, whereas he himself was ignorant of what was going on. The messagethe coolie was bringing was misunderstood by the conceited assistant, and as a result of having just this smattering of the vernacular, he ranhis firm in for a loss of fifty thousand dollars. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AJ: Ts'u-hsiong-fu, as it is pronounced locally, with a strong"ts" initial sound. ]

[Footnote AK: Meaning a relief hand (Malay). ]

[Footnote AL: Literally, "tea money. "]

[Footnote AM: "Heaping up merit" is one of the elementary practices ofChinese religious life. ]

[Footnote AN: Chennan-chou, which stands at a height of 6, 500 feet, hasbeen visited again since by myself. My caravan consisted on thisoccasion of two ponies (one I was riding), two coolies, a servant, andmyself. As we got to the archway in the middle of the street leading tothe busy part of the town, my animal nearly landed me into the gutter, and the other horse ran into a neighboring house, both frightened bycrackers which were being fired around a man who was bumping his head onthe ground in front of an ancestral tablet, brought into the street forthe purpose. A horrid din made the air turbulent. I sought refuge in thenearest house, tying my ponies up to the windows, and was mosthospitably received as a returned prodigal by a well-disposed old manand his courtly helpmate. The genuineness of the hospitality of theChinese is as strong as their unfriendliness can be when they aredisposed to show a hostile spirit to foreigners. Just as I had laid upfor dinner the din stopped, we breathed gunpowder smoke instead of air, everyone from the head-bumping ceremony came around me, and therelingered in silent admiration. My boy came and whispered, quite aloudenough for all to hear, that in that part of the town cooked rice couldnot be bought, and that I was going to be left to look after the horsesand the loads whilst the men went away to feed. He advised the assembledcrowd that if they valued sound physique they had better keep theirhands off my gear and depart. My friendly host shut the doors andwindows, with the exception of that through which I watched ourimpedimenta, and at once commenced good-natured inquiry into my past, and concerning vicissitudes of life in general. Luckily, I was able togive the old man good reason for congratulating me upon my ancestralline, my own great age, the number of my wives and offshoots--mostly"little puppies"--and as each curious caller dropped in to sip tea, sodid one after another of the patriarchal dignitaries who wereresponsible for the human product then entertaining the crowd comevividly before the imagination of the company, and they were graced withevery token of age and honor. (Chinese speak of sons as "littlepuppies. ")]

[Footnote AO: In crossing a river here I slipped, and from ray pocketthere rolled a box of photographic films, and in reaching over tore-capture it, I let my loaded camera fall into the water. I wasdisappointed, as most of my best pictures were thus (as I imagined)spoilt. But when I developed at Bhamo, I found not a single film damagedby water, and every picture was a success from both the roll in the tinand the roll in the camera. It is a tribute to the Eastman-Kodak CompanyLtd. That their non-curling films will stand being dipped into riversand remain unaffected. The films in question should have been developedsix months prior to the date of my exposure. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER XVIII. 

_Stampede of frightened women_. _To the Eagle Nest_. _An acrobaticperformance, and some retaliation at the author's expense_. _Over themountains to Pu-pêng A magnificent storm, and a description_. _In a"rock of ages. " Hardiness of my comrades_. _Early morning routine andsome impressions_. _Unspeakable filth of the Chinese_. _Lolo people ofthe district_. _Physique of the women_. _Aspirations towards Chinesecustoms_. _Skilless building_. _Mythological, anthropological, craniological and antediluvian disquisitions_. _At Yün-nan-ï_. _Flatcountry_. _Thriftless humanity_. _To Hungay_. _A day of days_. _Travelerin bitter cold unable to procure food_. _Fright in middle night_. _Atimely rescue_. _Murder of a bullock on my doorstep_. _Callousdisposition of fellow-travelers_. _Leaving the capital of an old-timekingdom_. _Bad roads and good men_. _National virtue of unfailingpatience_. _Human consumption of diseased animals. Minchia at Hungay_. _Major Davies and the Minchia_. _Author's differences of opinion. Increasing popularity of the small foot. _

But the storm came the next day, as we were on our way to Pu-pêng, during the ninety li when we passed the highest point on this journey. By name The Eagle Nest Barrier (Ting-wu-kwan), this elevated pass, 8, 600feet above the level, reached after a gradual ascent between twomountain ranges, was surmounted after a couple of hours' steep climbing, where rain and snow had made the paths irritatingly slippery and thetask most laborious. Although the condition of the road was enough totake all the wind out of one's sails, the sublimity of the scenery ofthe dense woods which clothed the mountains, exquisitely pretty ravines, tumbling waterfalls, running rivulets and sparkling brooks, with littlepatches of snow hidden away in the maze of greens of every hue, allrendered it a climb less tiring than the narrow pathways over which wewere then to travel. Half-way up we met a string of ponies, and Iunderwent a few nervous moments until they had passed in the twenty-inchroad--a slight tilt, a slip, a splutter, probably a yell, and I shouldhave dropped 500 feet without a bump. 

As we went along together, just before reaching this hill, we saw womencarrying bags of rice. They saw us, too. One passed me safely, but withfear. The others carelessly dropping their burdens, scampered off, afraid of their lives; and when one of my soldiers (whose sense of humorwas on a par with my own when as a boy I used to stick butterscotchdrops on the bald head of my Sunday School teacher, and bend pins forsmall boys to sit on and rise from) shouted to them, they dived straightas a die over the hedge into a submerged rice-field, and made a sorryspectacle with their "lily" feet and pale blue trousers, covered withthe thin mud. In struggling to get away, one of them, the sillycreature, went sprawling on all fours in the slime, and with only theimperfect footing possible to her with her little stumps, she would havebeen submerged, had not the man who had frightened her, at my bidding, gone to drag her out. As it was, they looked anything but beautiful withtheir wet and muddy garments clinging tightly to their bodies, andbetraying every curve of their not unbeautiful figures. One of thewomen, a comely damsel of some twenty summers, did not jump into thefield, but lay flat on the ground behind some bushes, thereby hoping toget out of sight, and now came forward with amorous glances. We, however, sent them on their way, and I will lay my life that they willnot "scoot" at the sight of the next foreigner. 

And now we are at the "Nest. " Many travelers have made remarks upon thisplace, where I was waited upon by a shrivelled, shambling specimen ofmanhood, whose wife--in contrast to her kind in China--seemed to rulehouse and home, bed and board. Whilst we were there, a Chinese, boundon the downward journey, endeavored to mount his mule at the very momentthe animal was reaching out for a blade of straw. As he swung his legacross the mule took another step forward, and the rider fell bodilywith an enormous bump into the lap of one of my coolies, upsetting himand his bowl of tea over his trousers and my own. I could not suppresshearty approval of this acrobatic incident. 

But the end was not yet. 

I sat on one end of one of those narrow forms, and this same coolie saton the other. He rose up suddenly, reached over for the common salt-pot, and I came off--with the multitude of alfresco diners laughing at thissmart retaliation until their chock-full mouths emitted the grains ofrice they chewed. 

After that I cleared off. Descending through a fertile valley, from thebottom there loomed upwards higher mountains, looking black and dismal, with clouds black and dismal keeping them company. We had now to crossthe undulating ground still separating us from Pu-pêng. The earlyportion of the ground was something like Clifton Downs, something likeDartmoor. The country was poor, and the people barely put themselves outto boil water for chance travelers. 

The storm broke suddenly. From the shelter of a hollowed rock I watchedit all. 

Over the submerged plain and the bare hills the blackness was as ofnight. Red earth without the sun looked brown, brown looked black, andthe trees, swaying helplessly before the raging fury of the gale, seemedstruck by death. Lightning continued its electrical vividity offork-like greenish white among the heavy clouds, drooping threateninglyfrom the hill-tops to the darkened valleys below, laden still with theirwaiting, unshed deluge. Through a narrow incision in the cruel cloudsthe sun peeped out with a nervous timidity, and a tiny patch overyonder, in a flash illuminated with gold and purple, across which thelightning danced in heavenly rivalry, displayed the magic touch of theArtist of the skies. Then came a rainbow of sweetest multi-color, of asplendor glorious and exquisite, delicate as the breath from paradise, stretching its majestic archbow athwart the waning gloom from range torange. As one drank in the glimpses of that dark corner in this peculiarfairyland, a mighty peal of magnificent, stentorian clashing brokefinally upon me, and heaven's electricity again flitted fearfully overthe earth, aslant, upwards, downwards again, upwards again, disappearingover the unmoved hills like a thousand tortured souls fleeing fromDante's Hades. And here I sit on, in that veritable "rock of ages" cleftfor me, glad that no human touch save that of my own mean clay, that nohuman voice came between me and the voice of that Infinite beyond. Iseemed to have been standing on the verge of another world, anothergreat unknown. The heavens raged and the thunders thereof roared, andthe wild wind hissed and moaned and wailed the hopeless wail of alonely, tormented soul. The cold was intense, and through it all I satdrenched to the skin. 

On the bleak mountain thus I was the pitifulest atom of loneliesthumanity, yet felt no loneliness. The face of the earth frowned in angryfury, the awfulness of the raging elements dwarfed all else to utterannihilation. But even at such a time, coming all too seldom in thelives of most of us, when standing in some remote spot which still tellsforth the story of the world's youth, one's inmost nature thrills with asense of unison with it all beyond human expression. All was so grand, inspiring one with an awe beyond one's comprehension, a peculiar, dreadof one's own earthly insignificance. These pictures, graven in one'smemory with the strong pencil of our common mother, are indelible, yetquite beyond expression. As in our own souls we cannot frame in wordsour deepest life emotions, so as we penetrate into the depths of thatkindly common mother of us all we find human words the same utterlyfutile channel of expression. To have our souls tuned to this silenteloquence of Nature, to catch the sweetness of those wind-swept, heaven-directed mountains, to understand the unspoken messages of thoserushing rivers and those gigantic gorges, to feel the heart-beat ofNature and her beauty in perfect harmony with all that is best withinus, we must be silent, undisturbed, preferably alone. This is notflowery sentiment--it is what every true lover of old and lovely Naturewould feel in Western China, yet still unspoiled by the taint of man'sabsorbing stream of civilization. And in the stress of modern life, andthe progress of man's monopolization of the earth on which he lives, itis beautiful to some of us, of whom it may be said the highest state ofinward happiness comes from solitary meditation in unperturbedloneliness under the broad expanse of heaven, to know that there arestill some spots of isolation where human foot has never turned theclay, and where, out of sight and sound of fellow mortals, we may evenfor a time shake off the violating, unnatural fetters of a harassingWestern life. 

Soon it seemed as if a silken cord had suddenly been severed, and I hadbeen dragged from a world of sweet infinitude down to a sphere mundaneand everyday, to something I had known before. . . . ". . . . Or what isNature? Ha! why do I not name thee God? Art thou not the 'Living Garmentof God'? O Heaven, is it in very deed, He, then, that ever speaksthrough thee; that lives and loves in thee, that lives and loves inme?"[AP]

I heard the crack of the bamboo and the patter of feet in the sodden, slippery pathway, and I knew my men were come. Crawling out from myrock, I descended again to common things, having to listen to thedisgusting talk of my Chinese followers, though a very slendervocabulary saved me from losing entirely the memory of that greatpicture then passing away. The sun shone through the clouds, which hadgiven place again to blue, the pervading blackness of a few momentsbefore had disappeared, and with the sinking sun we descendedthoughtfully to the town. The hill is solid sandstone, and the unevenruts made by the daily procession of ponies were transformed into anetwork of tiny streams. 

That my comrades were drenched to the skin gave them no thought; theyturned to immediately, while I dived hurriedly to the bottom of my boxand gulped down quinine. They sat around and drank hot water, holdingforth with eloquence beyond their wont on the general advantages, naturally and supernaturally, of their native city of Tong-ch'uan-fu. And well they might, for I know no prettier spot in the whole of WesternChina. 

Fifty men--coolies who were carrying general merchandise in alldirections, and who had taken shelter in the large inn I stayed at--rosewith me the next morning. As I ate my morning meal, spluttering the riceover the floor as I tried vainly to control my chopsticks withfrost-nipped fingers, they went through the filthy round of earlymorning routine. Squatting about with their dirty face-rags, and ahalf-pint of greasy water in their brass receptacle shaped like thesoup-plate of civilization, and leaving upon their necks the traces oftheir swills, they wiped the dirt into their hair, and considered theyhad washed themselves. Men would emerge from their rooms, fully dressed, with the dishclout in one hand and the hand-basin in the other--on theway to their morning tub. Oh, the filth, the unspeakable filth of thesepeople! Would that the Chinese would emulate the cleanliness of theJaps, though even that I would question. In several years in the OrientI have not yet come across the cleanliness in any race of people to becompared with that cleanliness which in England is next to godliness. 

The people of Pu-pêng were pleased to see me. They hurried aboutobligingly to get food for man and beast, and the womankind, poor butlight-hearted, cracked suggestive jokes with my men with the utmostfreedom. 

In this town there are many Lolo--it might be said that the entirepopulation is of Lolo origin, although had I suggested to any particularinhabitant that this was a fact he would probably have taken keenoffense, and things might have gone badly with me. With the men it ismost difficult to tell--there is little difference between the _Han ren_and the tribesman. But the difference is often most marked in respect tothe women. The Chinese woman has a considerably fairer skin than thefemale of Lolo descent, and her customs and manners, apart from thedistinct colloquial accent, are quite evident as pretty sure proof ofdistinction of race. After the Lolo have mingled with the Chinese for afew years, however, it is quite difficult to differentiate between them, as most of the Lolo women now speak Chinese (in this town I did not hearany language foreign to the Chinese language), and a good many of themen are sufficiently educated to read the Chinese character even if theydo not write it. The forward racial condition of the Lolo people in thisdistrict is far greater than that of the people of the same tribe to thewest of Tali-fu, and in latitudes where their language and customs oflife and dress are more or less maintained. The women are generally ofbetter physique than the Chinese, principally on account of the factthat their work is almost exclusively outdoor; but as they begin to copythe Chinese, and live a more sedentary life, this fine physique willprobably gradually disappear. A good many already bind their feet. 

When I came out in the early morning the thermometer was twenty degreesbelow zero, and my nose was red and without feeling. _Feng-mao_[AQ] andgreat coat were required, but I was totally oblivious of the hour'sstiff climbing awaiting me immediately outside the town, to reach thehighest point in which bathed me in perspiration as if I had playedthree sets of tennis in the tropics. 

Mountains were wild and barren, with nothing in them to enable one toforget in natural beauty the fatigues of a toilsome ascent. Villagescame now and again in sight, stretched out at the extremity of the plainbefore my eyes, with their white gables, red walls, and black tiledroofs, but during the day we passed through two only. The first was alittle place where decay would have been absolute had it not been forthe likin[AR] flag, which enables "squeezes" to be extorted ruthlesslyfrom the muleteer and conveyed to the pockets of the prospering customsagent. It boasted only ten or twelve tumbling lean-to tenements, wheremy sympathy went out to the half-dozen physical wrecks of men who cameslowly and stared long, and wondered at the commonest article of mymeager impedimenta. They seemed poorer and lower down the human scalethan any I had yet seen. On one of the ragged garments worn by a man ofabout twenty-five I counted no less than thirty-four patches ofdifferent shapes, sizes and materials, hieroglyphically and skillesslythrown together to hide his sore-strewn back; but still his brownunwashed flesh was visible in many places. 

Looking upon them, one did not like to think that these beings were men, men with passions like to one's own, for all the interests, real andimaginary, all the topics which should expand the mind of man, andconnect him in sympathy with general existence, were crushed in theabsorbing considerations of how rice was to be procured for theirfamilies of diseaseful brats. They had no brains, these men; or ifHeaven had thus o'erblessed them, they did not exercise them in theirindustry--their coarse, rough hands alone gained food for the day'sfeeding. And these mud-roofed, mud-sided dwellings--these were theirhomes, to me worse homes than none at all. In their architecture noteven a single idea could be traced--the Chinese here had proceeded as ifby merest accident. All I could think as I returned their wonderingglances was that their world must be very, very old. But I have no timeor space to talk of them here. To throw more than a cursory glance atthem Would lead me into interminable disquisitions of a mythological, anthropological, craniological, and antediluvian nature for which onewould not find universal approval among his readers. To those who wouldstudy such questions I say, "Fall to!" There is enough scope for alifetime to bring into light the primeval element so strangely woveninto the lives of these people. 

At Yün-nan-ï bunting and weird street decoration made the place hideousin my eyes. The crowded town was making considerable ado about someexpected official. I saw none, more than a courteous youth--to whom, ofcourse, I was quite unknown and deaf and dumb--who graciously shiftedgoods and chattels from the inn's best room to hand it over to me for myoccupation. With due tact and some excitability, I protested vigorouslyagainst his coming out. He insisted. Smiling upon him with gravebenignity, I said that I would take a smaller room, and gave orders tothat effect to my man, adding that my whole sense of right and justicetowards fellow-travelers revolted against such self-sacrifice on hispart. He still insisted. Smiling again, this time the timid smile of thecommoner looking up into the face of the great, I allowed myselfreluctantly to be pushed bodily into the best apartment. 

This was my intention from the first. Although not too familiar withit, I allowed the Chinese to imagine that I was well grounded in theabsurdities of his national etiquette; whilst he, observing, too, theoutrageous routine of common politeness, probably went away swearingthat he had been turned out. He had cut off his nose to spite his face. 

I cannot truthfully deny, however, that the fellow was very kind, but hewould persist in the belief that it was an impossibility for me to tellthe truth. Later, pointing at me and eyeing me up and down as I shavedin the twilight, he sneered, "Engleeshman! Engleeshman!" and scootingwith an armful of clothing, small pots of eatables, official documentsand other sundries, told me point-blank that he did not believe thatsuch a noble person could not speak such a contemptible language asChinese. 

Seeing no official, then, I presumed I was their man. Whilst I fedslowly on my rice and cabbage in a small earth-floor room, with my noseas near as convenient to my oil lamp to get a little warmth, thediscomfort of Chinese life was forced upon me, and I imagined I washaving a good time. I was the best off in the inn by far; the othersmust have been colder, certainly had worse food to eat, and yet to me itwas all the height of utmost cheerlessness. 

From a hamlet opposite the town, where I sat down by the fireexhausted in an old woman's shaky dwelling, and fed on agedsardines and hot rice (atrocious mixture), there is a plain extendingfor twenty li to Yün-nan-ï--flat as country in the Fen district. Theroad was good (in wet weather, however, it must be terrible), and Iwould drive a motor-car across, were it not for the 15-in. Ruts whichdisfigure the surface. And I know a man who would do this even, despitethe ruts: he takes a delight in running over dogs and small boys, damaging rickshaws, bumping into bullock-carts, and so on--he wouldhave done it with liveliest freedom. 

But what poverty there was! What women! What Children! With barely anexception, the women had faces ground by want and bare necessity, inwhich every cheerful and sympathetic lineament had been effaced bylife-long slavery and misery. In the bitter cold they, women andchildren, crouched round a scanty fir-wood firing, not enough even tokeep alive their natural heat. One long pitiful sight of thriftlesspoverty. 

To Hungay was a fearful day. Little to eat could I procure, and the coldgave me a lusty ox's appetite. To me a bellyful came as a windfall. 

At last we sat down by the roadside at one small table, hearing the testof age, rickety and worm-eaten. We gathered like hogs at their troughs, with the household hog scratching at our feet. I grew impatient andquerulous over constant culinary disappointment. I longed not for theheaped-up board of the pampered and luxurious, I wanted food. Indigentman was I, whose dietetical elegancies had been forgotten, a man withravenous desires seeking sustenance, not relishes; the means of life, not the means of pampering the carcass; I wanted food. 

And here I had it. The hungry were to be fed. 

It was a foul orgy, a gruesome spectacle, a horrible picture of thegluttony of famished men. This meal conjured up visions of the "mostunlovely of the functions. " We fed on _mien_, that long, greasy, grimy, slippery, slimy string of boneless white--I see it now! And thehalf-done tin of sardines set before me, too, the broken stools in thethatch-worn shed, the dismantled hearth, the muddy earthen floor, thehaggard, hungry villains--I see them all again. [AS]

It should, however, be said that I went away from the main road over arange of hills where nobody lives. Had I kept to the "ta lu" food wouldhave been quite easy to get. 

To Hungay was given the honor of entertaining me over the Sunday, apleasant rest after a week of arduous and exhausting walking. I arrivedlate at night, and the old town's rough streets were bathed in a silvershower of moonbeams, the air was cold and frosty, little groups of thecurious came to the doors of their dwellings, laughing sarcastically, despite their own poverty, at the distinguished traveler thus comingupon them. 

In marked contrast to this outside animation were the happenings at theinn which gave me shelter. Business was bad. Three undistinguishedtravelers--coolies with loads--and myself and men made up the meagertotal of paying guests. This was the reason why it was chosen for me, for peace and quiet. Quiet had been forced upon the household, so I wastold, by the death by fits of a haughty and resolute lady; and now thatthe night had fallen and we had all had our rice, the deep hush--or itsequivalent in Cathay, at all events--seemed likely to be unbroken untila new day should dawn. My room here had a verandah overlooking a backcourt, and here I sat at midnight, unseen by anyone, looking up to thechangeless stars in an unpitying sky; and as I stood thus there blewfrom the gates of night and across the mountains a wind that made meshiver less with physical cold than with a sense of loneliness andcaptivity. For on to my verandah came four soldiers, and it seemed as ifthe hour of death drew nigh; and as I looked again, first upon thecloudswept sky and upon the cold and steely glitter of the stars, andthen again at the soldiers with their guns, I turned giddy, shudderingat the darkness and the loneliness, and with a nameless fear lying atthe center of life like a lurking shadow of an unknown, unseen foe. 

They addressed me, but I cared not what they said. I pretended I couldnot speak Chinese, watched the quartet form a circle, and talk slowlyand low, and it did not need the mind of a prophet to see that they werediscussing how best they could capture me. Were they going to kill me?My boy and the other friends I had in the place were sleepingblissfully, ignorant that their master was in such trying straits. I wasasked my name, and the inquirers, not over civil, were told. They againasked me for something, I knew not what, probably for my passport. Ihad none, and cursed my luck that I had forgotten to pack it when I hadleft Tong-ch'uan-fu. 

To me it was quite evident that they were deciding my destiny, or so itseemed in the stillness of the night. Looking upwards, I wonderedwhether I was soon to learn the secret of the stars and sky, and thosemen seemed to watch the secret workings of my soul. Outside the windmade moan continuously. 

Suddenly my door opened noisily, a light was flashed upon us, and I sawthe bulky form of the landlord. Then all was well. Soon one of my menappeared, and explained that the soldiers were on their way to meet anofficial who was coming from Tali-fu, that their instructions were thatthey would meet him at Hungay. They took me for the "gwan. "

So my end was not yet. But now, months afterwards, when I stand andlisten to the wind at midnight, there seems borne to me in every sob andwail a memory of that hateful night and the four soldiers with theirguns. 

It seemed not long afterwards that I was awakened by noises on thedoorstep. Looking out, I found a bullock, its four feet tied togetherwith a straw rope, writhing in its last agonies; the butcher, in hishand a cruel 24-inch bladed knife still red with blood, smiling thesmile of ironic torture as he looked down upon his struggling victim. Hestraightway skinned the animal and cut up the carcass immediately infront of my door, where Lao Chang waited to get the best cut for mydinner. My three fellow-lodgers squatted alongside, going through theirapologetic ablutions as if naught were happening. Their dirty face-ragswere wrung and rewrung; they got to work with that universal tooth-brush(the forefinger!), and that the dead body of a bullock was beingdissected two feet from the table at which they ate their steaming ricewas a detail of not the slightest consequence in the world. 

Hungay is an old-time capital of one of the original kingdoms, destroyed in the year A. D. 749. The road leading out towards Chao-chowwas built some considerable time before that year, and has never beensubject to any repairs whatever (for this fact I have drawn upon myimagination, but should be very much surprised to know that I am far outin my reckoning). Villagers have appropriated the public slabs and smallboulders which comprised the wretched thoroughfare; reminiscent puddlestell you the tale, and the badness of the road renders it necessary forthe traveler to be out of bed a little earlier than usual to face theordeal. The road to-day has been practically as bad as walking along thesides of the Yangtze. But as I studied the patience and physicalvitality of my three men, laughing and joking with the light-heartednessof children, with nearly seventy catties dangling from theirshoulder-pole, without a word of murmuring, I felt a little ashamed ofmyself that I, whose duty it was merely to _walk_, should have made sucha fuss. These men were prepared to work a very long time for very littlereward, as no matter how small the rewards for the terribly exhaustinglabor, it were better than none at all, --so they philosophized. 

That quiet persistence and unfailing patience form a national virtueamong the Chinese--the capacity to wait without complaint and to bearall with silent endurance. This virtue is seen more clearly in greatnational disasters which occasionally befall the country. The terriblefamine of 1877-8 was the cause of the death of millions of people, andleft scores of millions without house, food or clothing; they weredriven forth as wanderers on the face of the earth without home, withouthope. The Government does nothing whatever in these cases. The peoplewho wish to live must find the means to live, and what impressed me allthrough my wanderings was the absolute science to which poverty isreduced. In such calamities the Chinese, of all men on the earth'ssurface, will battle along if there is any chance at all. If he isblessed, he once more becomes a farmer; but if not, he accepts theposition as inevitable and irremediable. The Chinese race has the finestpower in the world to withstand with fortitude the ills of life and themiseries which follow inability to procure the wherewithal to live. Their nerves are somehow different from our Western nerves. 

In China nothing is wasted, not only in food, but in everythingaffecting the common life. 

That a beast dies of disease is of no concern. It is eaten all the samefrom head to hoof, from skin to entrail, and the remarkable fact is thatthey do not seem to suffer from it, either. At Kiang-ti (mentioned in aprevious chapter) I saw a horse being pushed down the hillside to theriver. It was not yet dead, but was dying, so far as I could see, ofinflammation of the bowels. Its body was cut up, and there were severalpeople waiting to buy it at forty cash the catty. 

From Hungay onwards I met a class of people I had not seen before. Theywere the Minchia (Pe-tso). 

Major H. R. Davies, whose treatise on the tribes of Yün-nan at the end ofhis excellent work on travel in the province, is probably the best yetwritten, writes that he met Minchia people only on the plains of Tali-fuand Chao-chow, and never east of the latter place. This was in travelsome ten or twelve years ago, and the fact that there are now manyMinchia families living in Hungay is a testimony to their enterprise asa tribe in going farther afield in search of the means to live. There islittle doubt that the Minchia originally came from country lying betweenthe border of the province and round Li-chiang-fu and the Tali-fu plainand lake. Most of them wear Chinese dress; many of the women bind theirfeet (and the practice is growing in popularity), although those whohave not small feet are still in the majority. In a small city lyingsome few li from the city of Tali all the inhabitants are Minchia, and Ifound no difficulty in spotting a Chinese man or woman--there is adistinct facial difference. Minchia have bigger noses, generally theeyes are set farther apart, and the skin is darker. Pink trousers are infashion among the ladies--trace of base feminine weakness!--but are notby any means the distinguishing features of race. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AP: Carlyle, _Sartor Resartus_. ]

[Footnote AQ: Wind-cap, a long Chinese wadded hat which reaches overone's head and down over the shoulders, tied under the chin withribbons. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AR: Likin, as everyone knows, is custom duty. All along themain roads of China one meets likin stations, distinguished by the flagat the entrance. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AS: I passed this spot a month or so afterwards, and amconvinced that at the time I wrote the above there must have beensomething radically wrong with my liver. Had it been in Killarney insummer, nothing could have been more entrancing than the two lakesmidway between Yün-nan-ï and Hungay. Patches of light green vegetation, interspersed with brown-red houses, skirting the lake-shore in pleasantcontrast to the green of the water, which, bathed in soft sunshine, lapped their walls in endless restlessness. Of that delicate blue whichis indescribably beautiful, the morning sky looked down tranquilly uponthe undulating hills of grey and brown, which seemed to hem in and guarda very fairyland. Geomancers of the place did not go wrong when theysuggested the overlooking hill-sides as suitable resting-places for thedeparted. All was ancient and primitive, yet simple and glorious, and asone of my followers called my attention to the telegraph wires, I wasstruck by the fact that this alone stood as the solitary element of whatwe in the West call civilization. Yet nothing bore traces of grossuncivilization; the people, hard workers albeit, were happy and quitecontent, with their slow-moving caravan, which we would, if we could, soon displace for the railway engine. Ploughmen with their buffaloes andtheir biblical ploughshare, raked over the red ground; women, withbabies on their backs, picked produce already ripe; children playedroundabout, and those old enough helped their fathers in the fields;coolies bustled along with exchanges of merchandise with neighboringvillages, quite content if but a couple of meals each day were earnedand eaten; the official, the ruler of these peaceful people, passed withold-time pomp--not in a modern carriage, not in a modern saloon, but inthe same way as did his ancestors back in the dim ages, in a sedan-chaircarried by men. There was plenty of everything--enough for all--but allhad to contribute to its getting. There was no greed, their few wantswere easily satisfied, and here, as everywhere in my journeyings, I havenoticed it to be the case among the common people, there was no desireto get rich and absorb wealth. They wanted to live, to learn to labor aslittle as the growth of food supplies demanded, to become fathers andmothers, and, to their minds, to get the most out of life. And who willcontradict it? They do not see with the eyes of the West; we do not, wecannot, see with their eyes. But surely the living of this simple life, the same as it was in the beginning, has a good deal in it; it is notuncivilization, not barbarism, and the fair-minded traveler in China cancome to but one opinion, even in the midst of all the conflictingemotions which result from his own upbringing, that we could, if wewould, learn many a good lesson from the old-time life of the Celestialin his own country. 

Yet these are the very people who may jostle us harshly later on in theracial struggle. 

I am not suggesting that when the Chinese adopts the cult of the West, and comes into general contact with it--and I believe that I am right insaying that this is the desire, generally speaking, of the whole of theenlightened classes--he continues with his few wants. As a matter offact, he does not. He is as extravagant, and perhaps more so, than themost of us. I have seen Straits Chinese waste at the gaming tables intheir gorgeous clubs as much in one night as some European residentshandle in one year, and he is quick to get his motor-car, his horses andcarriages, and endless other ornaments of wealth. So that if progress inthe course of the evolution of nations means that the Chinese too willdemand all that the European now demands, and will cease to findsatisfaction in the existing conditions of his life in the new goaltowards which he is moving, and if he, in course of time, shouldincrease the cost of living per head to equal that of the Westerner, then he will lose a good deal of the advantage he now undoubtedly has inthe struggle for racial supremacy. But if, gradually taking advantage ofall in religion, in science, in literature, in art, in modern naval andmilitary equipment and skill, and all that has made nations great andmade for real progress in the West, he were also to continue his presenthardy frugality in living--which is not a tenth as costly in proportionto that of the Occident--then his advantage in entering upon theconflict among the nations for ultimate supremacy would be undoubted, immeasurable. 

The question is, will he?

If he will, then the Occident has much to fear. China, going aheadthroughout the Empire as she is at the present moment in certain parts, will in course of time (as is only fair and natural to expect) have anarmy greater in numbers than is possible to any European power, and herfood-bill will be two-thirds lower per head per fighting man. Subsequently, granting that China fulfils our fears, and becomes asgreat a fighting power as military experts declare she will, even in ourgeneration, by virtue of her numbers alone, apart from phenomenal powersof endurance, which as every writer on China and her people is agreed, is excelled by no other race on earth, she would be able to dictateterms to the West. But, again, will she? Will the people continue tolive as they are living?

I personally believe that the Chinese will not. I believe that as thenation progresses, more in accordance with lines of progress laid downby the West, so will her wants increase, and consequent expenses of lifebecome greater. The Yün-nanese even are beginning to acknowledge thatthey have no ordinary comforts. In other parts of the empire the peopleare already beginning to learn what comfort, sanitation, lighting, andgeneral organization means--in the home, in the city, in the country, inthe nation. 

And they are learning too that it all costs money, and means, perhaps, ahigher state of social life. For this they do not mind the money. Theyare not going half-way--they are going to be whole-hoggers. And when inthe future, near or far, we shall find them, as is almost inevitable, able to compete in everything with other nations, we shall find thatthey have not been successful in learning the source of strength withouthaving absorbed also some of the weaknesses; they will not escape thevices, even if they learn some of the virtues of the West. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER XIX. 

_Peculiar forebodings of early morning_. _A would-be speaker ofEnglish_. _The young men of Yün-nan and the Reform Movement_. _Teachersof English_. _Remarks on methods adopted_. _Disregard of the customs ofcenturies_. _A rushing Szech-wanese_. _Missionaries and the EducationalMovement_. _Christianity and the position of the foreigner_. _Is theChinese racially inferior to the European? Interesting opinion_. _Peaceof Europe and integrity of China_. _Chao-chow cook gets a bad time_. _The author's levée. Natural "culture" of the people_. _Story of thebirth of boys_. _Notes on Hsiakwan_. _Experiences of thenon-Chinese-speaking author at the inn_. _How he got the better of anofficial_. _A magnificent temple_. _Kwan-ïn and the priests. _

This morning, from the foot of a high spur, I saw a couple of gawkyfellows shambling along in an imitation European dress, and I pricked upmy ears--it seemed as if Europeans were about. One of the fellows had ona pair of long-legged khaki trousers ludicrously patched with Chineseblue, a tweed coat of London cut also patched with Chinese blue, and abattered Elswood topee. I saw this through my field-glasses. Soon after, coming out from a cup in the winding pathway, emerged a four-man chair, and I had no doubt then that it was a European on the road, and I beganto get as curious as anyone naturally would in a country where ininterior travel his own foreign kind are met with but seldom. Hurryingon, I managed to pass the chair in a place where overhanging foliageshut out the light, so that I could not see through the windows, and asthe front curtain was down I concluded that it must be a lady, probablya missionary lady. I pushed on to the nearest tavern--a tea tavern, ofcourse--buttoned up my coat so that she should not see my dirty shirt, and waited for the presence to approach. From an inner apartment, through a window, I could see all that went on outside, but could not beseen. What is it that makes a man's heart go pit-a-pat when he is aboutto meet a European lady in mid-China?

Presently the chair approached. From it came a person covered in a hugefur-lined, fur-collared coat many sizes too large for his small body--itwas a Chinese. Several men were pushed out of his way as he strodetowards me, extending his hand in a cordial "shake, old fellow" style, and yelling in purest accent, "Good morning, sir; _good_ morning, sir!"

"Oh, good morning. You speak English well. I congratulate you. Have youhad a good journey? How far are you going? Very warm?" I waited. "It isso interesting when one meets a gentleman who can speak English; it is apleasant change. " I waited again. "Will you--"

"Good morning, morning, morn--he, he, he. "

"But pardon me, will--"

"Morning, morning--he, h-e-e. "

"Yes, you silly ass, I know it is morning, but--"

"Yes, yes; morning, morning--he-e-e-e-e. "

He then made for the door, not the least abashed. Later he came back, and invited me to speak Chinese, probably thinking that I was wonderingwhy he had made such an absolute fool of himself. I learned that thisaugust gentleman possessed a name in happy correspondence with a fowl("Chi"). He pointed contemptuously to a member of that feather tribe ashe told me. Whether he could speak Chinese when he was or was not atChen-tu, or whether he had a son whose knowledge of my language wasvast, and who was at that moment at Chen-tu, I could not quite fathom, and he could not explain. He had a look at my caravan generally, andthen turned his scrutiny upon my common tweeds, informing me that thequality bore no comparison with his own. He could travel in a four-manchair; I had to _walk_. It was all very "pub hao. "

After some time he cleared out with much empty swagger, and I followedleisurely on behind, feeling--yes, why not publish it?--pleased that thisbolt from the blue had not been a lady. 

This young fellow--a mere slip of a boy--wore every indication ofperfect self-confidence, borne out in a multitude of ways common to hisclass. He, I presumed, was one of the fledglings who undertakeresponsibilities far beyond them, or I should not be surprised if he hadbeen one of the army of young men who, having the merest smattering ofEnglish, wholly unable to converse, set up as teachers of English. Ihave found this quite common among the rising classes in Yün-nan. Thecool assumption of unblushing superiority evinced in discussingintellectual and philosophic problems is remarkable. The Chinese, in thearea I speak of, are little people with little brain: this was aspecimen. Yet, to be fair, in China to-day the work of reform is mainlythe work of young men, who although but only partly equipped for theirwork, approach it with perfect confidence and considerable energy, notknowing sufficient to realize the difficulties they are undertaking. InJapan the same thing was done. The young men there undertook to disputeand doubt everything which came in the way of national reorganization, setting aside--as China must do if she is to take her place alongsidethe ideal she has set up for herself, Japan--parental teaching, ancestral authority, the customs of centuries. A large proportion of thepopulation of China has a passion for reform and progress. This youngfellow was a typical example. In the west of China, however, to conformwith the spirit of reform and real progress--not the make-believe, whichis satisfying them at the present moment--they must needs change theirways. 

Seventeen memorial plates were passed at the entrance to Chao-chow, aparticularly modern-looking place, as one approaches it from the hill. 

A remarkably ungainly individual, with a hole in the top of his skulland his body one mass of sores, came to me here, addressed me as "Sienseng, " and then commenced an oration to the effect that he was aSzech'wanese, that he had known the missionaries down by the Yangtze, and that he knew he would be welcome to accompany me to Hsiakwan. [AT] Heswitched himself on the main line of my caravan. Here was a man who hadbeen brought in contact with the missionary away down in anotherprovince, and he knew he was welcome. I liked that. In all myjourneyings in Yün-nan I was increasingly impressed with the value ofthe missionary, that man who of all men in the Far East is the mostsubject to malicious criticism, and generally, be it said, from thosepersons who know little or nothing about his work. You cannot measurethe missionary's work by conversions, by mere statistics. I venture toassert that it is through the missionary that the West applied pressureand supplied China with political ideas, and put within her reach thematerial and instruments which would enable her to carry such ideas intopractice--this apart from religious teaching. More particularly is thisthe case in respect to popular education, perhaps, by means of which thetransformation of Old China into New China will be a less long anddifficult process. The people may not want the missionary--I do not fora moment say that they do--but they need to know the secret of his powerand the power of his kind, and they must study his language, hisscience, his machinery, his steamboats, his army, his _Dreadnaughts_. They realize that the foreigner is useful not for what he can do, butfor what he can teach--therefore they tolerate the missionary. This isvirtually the national policy of China towards foreigners, a policygaining the acceptance of the people with remarkable quickness. 

After having set aside all considerations of national prejudice andpatriotism, it is interesting to ask whether it is actually a fact thatthe Chinese, as a race, are inferior to the peoples of the West? Muchhas been said on the subject. I give my opinion flatly that the Chineseis _not_ inferior, and the longer I live with him the more numerousbecome the lessons which he teaches me. 

"The question, when we examine it closely, has really very little to dowith political strength or military efficiency, or (_pace_ Mr. BenjaminKidd) relative standards of living, or even the usual materialaccompaniments of what we call an advanced civilization; it is aquestion for the trained anthropologist and the craniologist rather thanfor the casual observer of men and manners. The Japanese people are nowmuch more highly civilized--according to western notions--than they werehalf a century ago, but it would be ludicrously erroneous to say thatthey are now a higher race, from the evolutionary point of view, thanthey were then. Evolution does not work quite so rapidly as that even inthese days of 'hustle. ' The Japanese have advanced, not because theirbrains have suddenly become larger, or their moral and intellectualcapabilities have all at once made a leap forward, but because theirintercourse with Western nations, after centuries of isolated seclusion, showed them that certain characteristic features of Europeancivilization would be of great use in strengthening and enriching theirown country, developing its resources, and giving it the power to resistaggression. If the Japanese were as members of the _homo sapiens_inferior to us fifty years ago, they are inferior to us now. If they areour equals to-day--and the burden of proof certainly now rests on himwho wishes to show that they are not--our knowledge of the origin andhistory of Eastern peoples, scanty though it is, should certainly tendto assure us that the Chinese are our equals, too. There is no validreason for supposing that the Chinese people are ethnically inferior tothe Japanese. They have preserved their isolated seclusion longer thanthe Japanese, because until very recently it was less urgently necessaryfor them to come out of it. They have taken a longer time to appreciatethe value of Western science and certain features of Westerncivilization, because new ideas take longer to permeate a very largecountry than a small one, and because China was rich within her ownborders of all the necessaries of life. "[AU]

And the West, too, must learn that the peace of Europe depends upon theintegrity of China. For the time is coming--not in the lives of any whoread these lines, but coming inevitably--when China will, by her might, by her immense numbers of trained men, by her developed naval andmilitary strength, be able to say to the nations of the earth, "Theremust be no more war. " And she will be strong enough to be able toenforce it. 

As with individuals, so with nations, and a people who are marked bysuch rare physical vitality, such remarkable powers of endurance againstgreat odds, are surely designed for some nobler purpose than merely tobear with fortitude the ills of life and the misery of starvation. It isthe easiest thing in the world to criticise--the West criticises theChinese because he is a heathen, because they do not understand him. Hundreds of millions of the Chinese race hate and fear the man of theWest for exactly the same reason as would cause us to hate the Chinesewere the situation reversed. 

I do not need to go into history from the days when the Chinese firstbegan to show their suspicion, contempt, and fear of foreigners, andtheir interpretation of the motives and purposes which took them to theCelestial Empire; it would take too much space. But if we of the Westdid our part to-day, as we rub up against the Chinese everywhere, incharitably taking him at his best, things would alter much more speedilythat they are doing. Because the Chinese bristles with contradictionsand seemingly unanswerable conundrums, we immediately dub him abarbarian, do not endeavor to understand him, do not understand enoughof his language to listen to him and learn his point of view. However, it is all slowly passing--so very slowly, too. But still China isprogressing, and now this oldest man in the world is becoming again theyoungest, but has all the accumulations and advantages of age in allcountries to lean upon and learn from. 

Chao-chow gave me a very decent inn, the top room in front of which wasprovided with a well-paved courtyard, with every convenience for thetraveler--that is, for China. 

The inn cook and water-carrier was out playing on the street when we putin an early appearance. My men lost their temper, ground their teeth, foamed at the mouth, and got desperate. The only man on the premises wasa poor old fellow, who foolishly bumped his uncovered head on the groundon which I stood, as an act of great servility and a secret sign that Ishould throw him a few cash, and then resumed his occupation in the sunof wiping his already inflamed eyes with the one unwashed garment whichcovered him. I pitied him; he knew it, and traded upon my pity until Iinvoked a few choice words from Lao Chang to fall upon him. When thecook did put in an appearance, he and everybody dead and living placedanywhere near his genealogical tree underwent a rough quarter of anhour from the anathematical tongues of my companions. The Old Man--byvirtue of the growth on my chin, this epithet of respect was commonlyused towards me--wanted to wash his face and drink his tea. He was tiredwith walking. He was a foreign mandarin. Did the blank, blank, blankcook, the worm and no man, not know that a foreigner was among them? Andthen they fell to piling up the ignominy again and placing to the cook'sdishonor various degrees of lowliest origin common among the Chineseproletariat, which, thank Heaven, I did not quite understand. 

That evening all Chao-chow came to honor me in my room, and to admireand ask to be given all I had in my boxes. That it was all a hugerevelation to many who came and inquired who I might be, and whence Imight have come, was quite evident. One fellow, dressed gaudily inexpensive silks and satins--probably borrowed--came with pomp andpride; and disappointment was writ large upon his ugly face when helearned that I could not, or would not, speak with him. He mentionedthat he was one of the cultured of the city. But the Chinese are allmore or less cultured. My own coolies, although not knowing a character, are really "cultured"--they are the most polite men I have evertraveled with. The culture, at any rate, although more apparent thanreal, has a universality in China which the foreigner must observe inmoving among the people, and which as a sort of lubrication, makes thewheels of society run smoother. This man was not cultured in the matterof taste in the choice of colors. He was altogether frightfully lackingin sense of harmony, and when one saw the little boy who trotted alongwith him, one might have thought that Joseph's coat had been revived formy especial edification. He was a peculiar being, this highly-coloredman. He would persist in sitting down on his haunches, despite frequentinvitations to use a chair--how is it all Orientals can do this, and notone European out of fifty?

Lao Chang afterwards informed me that this man's wife had just presentedhim with a second son, and great jubilation was taking place. The birthof a child, especially of a boy, is a great event in any Chinesehousehold, and considerable anxiety is felt lest demons should belurking about the house and cause trouble. A sorcerer is called in justbefore the birth, to exorcise all evil influences from the house andsecure peace. This is the "Exorcism of Great Peace. " Simultaneouslycomes the midwife. Should the birth be attended with great pain anddifficulty, recourse is had to crackers, the firing of guns, or whateversimilar device can be thought of to scare off the demons. Solicitude isoften felt that the first visit to the house after the birth of thechild should be made by a "lucky" person, for the child's whole futurecareer may be blighted by meeting with an "ill-starred" person. Nooutsider will enter the room where the birth took place for forty days. On the anniversary of a boy's birth the relatives and friends bringpresents of clothes, hats, ornaments, playthings, and red eggs. The babyis placed on the floor--the earth, which is the first place he touches;he is born into a hole in the ground--and around him are placed variousarticles, such as a book, pencil, chopsticks, money, and so on. He willfollow the profession which has to do with the articles he firsttouches. [AV]

This was the fortieth day, and so my visitant honored me by thrustinghis contemptible presence upon me, and he would not go until late atnight, when a man with a diseased hip and one eye--and a ghastly thingat that--called to see whether I could treat him with medicine. 

Hsiakwan in days to come will probably have a big industry in brick andtile making. Fifteen li from the town, on the Chao-chow side, manypeople now get their living at the business, and one could easily dreamof a "Hsiakwan Brick and Tile Company Limited, " with the children'schildren of the present pioneers running for the morning papers to havea look at the share market reports, with light railways connected upwith the main line, which has not yet been built, and so on, and so on. 

Hsiakwan is perhaps the busiest town on the main trade route fromYün-nan-fu to Burma. Tali-fu, although growing, is only the officialtown, of which Hsiakwan is the commercial entrepôt. It was here that Istayed one Sunday some time after this, at one of the biggest inns Ihave ever been into in China. It had no less than four buildings, eachwith a paved rectangular courtyard which all the rooms overlooked. Amilitary official, who was on his way to Chao-t'ong to deal with therebellion, of which the reader has already learnt a good deal, wasexpected soon after I arrived. My room was already arranged, however, when the landlord came to me and said--

"Yang gwan, you must please go out!"

Now the yang gwan, as was expected, stayed where he was, smiled inmagnanimous acquiescence, invited the proprietor--a stout, jolly personwith one eye--to be seated, and remained quiet. Again and again was Itold that I should be required to clear out, and give up the best roomto the official and his aide-de-camp, but unfortunately the inquirer didnot improve the situation by persisting in the foolish belief that theforeigner was hard of hearing. He shouted his request into my ear in astentorian basso, he waved his hands, he pointed, he made signs. TheChinese langage and manner, however, are difficult to an addle-patedforeigner. I, poor foolish fellow, endeavoring to treat the Chinese ina manner identical to that which he would have employed had conditionsbeen reversed, stared vacantly and woodenly into a seemingly bewilderinginfinite, and timidly remarked, "O t'ing puh lai. " Knowing then that my"hearing had not come, " he requisitioned my boy, for the aide-de-camp bythis time was glumly peering into my doorway; but to his disgust LaoChang also was equally unsuccessful in making me tumble to theirmeaning. The best room, therefore, continued to be mine. 

Soon after the official came, and my dog began by mauling his canineguardian, tearing away half his ear; and in the middle of the night oneof my horses got loose and had a stand-up fight with a mule attached tothe official party, laming him seriously; and as the foreigner emergedin his night attire to prevent further damage, he encountered themandarin himself, and pinned him dead against the wall in the dark, after having stepped on his corn. My pony had pulled several morsels offlesh from the mule's carcase. The yang gwan certainly came off best, and the following morning, as the Chinese gwan with his retinue of sixchairs and about one hundred and fifty men departed, the yang gwansmiled a happy farewell which was not effusively reciprocated. 

As I came out of the inn I met a Buddhist priest, worn with generaldilapidation and old age, with a huge festering wound in the calf of hisleg, so that he could hardly hobble along with a stick--he was probablyon his way to the medical missionary at Tali-fu for treatment. Thisspiritual guide was certainly on his last legs, and has probably by thistime handed over the priestly robes and official perquisites to morevigorous young blood. 

Hsiakwan's High Street reminded me of the main street of Totnes, withits arch over the roadway, and the scenery might have deluded one intothe belief that he was in Switzerland in spring, as he gazed upon theglorious spectacle of snow-covered mountains with the world-famed lakeat the foot. Tali-fu deserves its name of the Geneva of West China. 

In the chapter devoted to Yün-nan-fu I have referred to the military ofTali-fu, but here I saw the men actually at drill, and a finer set ofmen I have rarely seen in Europe. The military Tao-tai lives here. Progress is phenomenal. At Yung-chang, the westernmost prefecture of theEmpire, the commanding officer could even speak English. 

In the famous temple ten li from Tali-fu is an effigy to the Yang Darenwho figured conspicuously during the Mohammedan Rebellion. My mensomehow got the false information that he was a native ofTong-ch'uan-fu, so they all went down on their knees and bumped theirheads on the ground before the image. This Yang, however, was such abrute of a man that no young girl was safe where he was; however, as asoldier he was indomitable. The temple in which he is deified is calledthe Kwan-ïn-tang, [AW] and there is no place in all China where Kwan-ïnis worshipped with such relentless vigor. Some years ago, so the wagssay, when Tali-fu was threatened by rebels, Kwan-ïn saved the city bytransforming herself into a Herculean creature, and carrying upon herback a stone of several tons weight, presumably to block the path. Theamazement of the rebels at the sight of a woman performing such a featmade them wonder what the men could be like, so they turned tail andfled. The story is believed implicitly by the residents of the city, andthe priests, with an open eye to the main chance, work upon the publicimagination with capital tact. I saw the stone in the center of a lotuspond, over which is the structure in which the Kwan-ïn sits, not as aweight-lifting woman, but as a tender mother, with a tiny babe in herarms, and none in the whole of the Empire enjoys such favor for beingable to direct the birth of male children into those families which givemost money to the priests. Women desiring sons come and implore her bythrowing cash, one by one, at the effigy, the one who hits beingsuccessful, going away with the belief that a son will be born to her. When the deluded females are cleared out, the priest, divesting himselfof his shoes, and rolling up his trousers, goes into the water, scoopsup the money and uses it for his personal convenience--sometimes as muchas thirty thousand cash. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AT: The commercial center of Tali-fu, the official city is 30li further on--E. J. D]

[Footnote AU: _From Peking to Mandalay_, by R. F. Johnston, London, JohnMurray. I am indebted to this racily-written work for other ideas inthis chapter. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AV: From inquiries I find this custom is not general in someparts of Western China--E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AW: Temple to the Goddess of Mercy. 

 "Kwan-ïn was the third daughter of a king, beautiful and talented, and when young loved to meditate as a priest. Her father, mother and sisters beseech her not to pass the 'green spring, ' but to marry, and the king offers the man of her choice the throne. But no, she must take the veil. She enters the 'White Sparrow Nunnery, ' and the nuns put her to the most menial offices; the dragons open a well for the young maidservant, and the wild beasts bring her wood. The king sends his troops to burn the nunnery, Kwan-ïn prays, rain falls, and extinguishes the conflagration. She is brought to the palace in chains, and the alternative of marriage or death is placed before her. In the room above where the court of the inquisition is held there is music, dancing, and feasting, sounds and sights to allure a young girl; the queen also urges her to leave the convent, and accede to the royal father's wish. Kwan-ïn declares that she would rather die than marry, so the fairy princess is strangled, and a tiger takes her body into the forest. She descends into hell, and hell becomes a paradise, with gardens of lilies. King Yama is terrified when he sees the prison of the lost becoming an enchanted garden, and begs her to leave, in order that the good and the evil may have their distinctive rewards. One of the genii gives her the 'peach of immortality. ' On her return to the terrestrial regions she hears that her father is sick, and sends him word that if he will dispatch a messenger to the 'Fragrant Mountain, ' an eye and a hand will be given him for medicine; this hand and eye are Kwan-ïn's own, and produce instant recovery. 

 "She is the patron goddess of mothers, and when we remember the value of sons, we can understand the heartiness of worship. "--_The Three Religions of China, _ by H. G. Du Bose. 

]

THIRD JOURNEY

TALI-FU TO THE MEKONG VALLEY

CHAPTER XX. 

_Stages to the Mekong Valley_. _Hardest part of the walking tour_. _Author as a medical man_. _Sunday soliloquy_. _How adversity is met_. _Chinese life compared with early European ages_. _Womens enthusiasmover the European_. _A good send-off_. _My coolie Shanks, the songster_. _Laughter for tears_. _Pony commits suicide_. _Houses in the forestdistrict_. _Little encampments among the hills, and the way the peoplepass their time_. _Treacherous travel_. _To Hwan-lien-p'u_. _Rest by theriver, and a description of my companions_. _How my men treated thetelegraph_. _Universal lack of privacy_. _Complaints of the carryingcoolies. _

From whichever standpoint you regard the cities and villages of WesternChina, the views are full of interest. Each forms a new picture of rock, river, wood and temple, crenellated wall, and uplifted roof, crowdedwith bewildering detail. 

I am not the first traveler who has remarked this. Several of Mr. Archibald Little's books speak of it. He says: "In Europe, except wherethe scenery is purely wild, and more especially in America, the delightof gazing on many of the most beautiful scenes is often alloyed by thecrude newness of man's work. This is true now of Japan, since the ragefor copying western architecture and dress has fallen upon the Islandsof the Rising Sun. But here in Western China little has intervened tomar the accord between nature and man. " In the country on which we arenow entering the natural grandeur is finer than anything I had seensince I left the Gorges, and incidentally I do not mind confessing tothe indulgent reader that when I came again through Hsiakwan, againwestward bound, I was tired, my feet were blistered and broken, each dayand every day had brought me a hard journey, and here I was now facingthe most difficult journey yet met with--literally not a li of levelroad. 

My journey was by the following route:--

 Length Height of Stage Above Sea

 1st day Ho-chiang-p'u 90 li 5, 050 ft. 2nd day Yang-pi 60 li 5, 150 ft. 3rd day T'ai-p'ing-p'u 70 li 7, 400 ft. 5th day Hwan-lien-p'u 50 li 5, 200 ft. 6th day Ch'u-tung 95 li 5, 250 ft. 7th day Shayung 75 li 4, 800 ft. 

T'ai-p'ing-p'u (two days from Tali-fu), bleak and perched away up amongthe clouds, could never be called a town; it is merely a ramshackleplace which gives one sleep and food in the difficult stage betweenHwan-lien-p'u and Yang-pi. 

Like most of the small places which suffered from the ravishings of theMohammedan destructions of the fifties, it has seen better days. Cottages hang clumsily together on ledges in the mountains, 7, 400 feetabove the sea, standing in their own vast uncultivated grounds. Peopleare of the Lolo origin, but all speak Chinese; their ways of life, however, are aboriginal, and still far from the ideal to which theyaspire. They are poor, poor as church mice, dirty and diseased anddecrepit, and their existence as a consequence is dreary and dull andvoid of all enlightenment. The women--sad, lowly females--bind theirfeet after a fashion, but as they work in the fields, climb hills, andbattle in negotiations against Nature where she is overcome only withextreme effort, the real "lily" is a thing possible with them only intheir dreams. By binding, however, be it never so bad an imitation, theygive themselves the greater chance of getting a Chinese husband. 

I stayed here the Sunday, and as I went through my evening ablutions, among my admirers in the doorway was an old woman, who in gentlestconfidences with my boy, explained awkwardly that her little daughterlay sick of a fever, and could he prevail upon his foreign master, inwhom she placed implicit faith, to come with her and minister? Lao Changadvised that I should go, and I went. My shins got mutilated as I felldown the slippery stone steps in the dark into a pail of hog's wash atthe bottom. Having wiped the worst of the grease and slime onto the mudwall, by the aid of a flickering rushlight I saw the "child, " who lay ona mattress on the floor in the darkest corner of the room. I reckonedher age to be thirty-five, her black hair hung in tangled masses, thevery bed on which she lay stank with vermin, two feet away was the firewhere all the cooking was gone through, and everywhere around was filth. When she saw me the "child" raised her solitary garment, whispered thatpains in her stomach were well-nigh unendurable, that her head ached, that her joints were stiff, that she was generally wrong, and--"Did Ithink she would recover?" I thought she might not. 

Rushing back to my medicine chest, I brought along and administered amaximum dose of the oil called castor, and later dosed her with quinine. In the morning she was out and about her work, while the old mother wasgreat in her praises for the passing European who had cured her child. After that came the deluge! They wanted more medicine--fever elixir, toothache cure, and so on, and so on--but I stood firm. 

The tedium of the Sunday in that draughty inn gave me an insight intotheir common lives which I had not before, causing me to meditate upontheir simple lives and their simple needs. They did not raise theforests in order to get gold; they did not squander their patrimony inyouth, destroying in a day the fruit of long years. They held to simpleneeds; they had a simplicity of taste, which was also a peculiar sourceof independence and safety. The more simple they lived the more securetheir future, because they were less at the mercy of surprises andreverses. In adversity these people would not act like nurslingsdeprived of their bottles and their rattles, but would, by virtue oftheir common simplicity, probably be better armed for any struggles. Ido not desire the life for myself, but the ethics of their simple livingcannot but be recommended. Multitudes possess in China what multitudesin the West pursue amid characteristic hampering futilities of Europeanlife. We would aspire to simple living, and the simplicity of oldentimes in manners, art and ideas is still cherished and reverenced; butwe cannot be simple or return to the simplicity of our forefathersunless we return to the spirit which animated them. They possessed thespirit of real simplicity. And this same spirit the Chinese possessto-day; but they are minus the incomparable features of healthfulcivilization, inward and outward, of which our forebears were masters. Our ways to-day are not their ways, and their ways not our ways; but onecannot but realize as he moves among them that with a happy infusion ofthe spirit of their simplicity into the restlessness of our modern lifeour wearied minds would dream less and realize more of the truesimplicity of simple living. 

 * * * * *

To a man the village of T'ai-p'ing-p'u turned out early on the Mondaymorning to express regrets that my departure was at hand. When, inparting with this people who had done all in their power to make mycomfort complete, I threw a handful of cash to some little childrenstanding wonderingly near by, general approval was expressed, andelaborate felicities anent my beneficence exchanged by the ear-ringedLolo women. A short apron hung down over their blue trousers, and as Ipassed out of their sight, they admired me and gossiped about me, withtheir hands under their aprons, in much the same manner as their moreenlightened sisters of the wash-tub gossip sometimes in the West. 

It was a beautiful spring morning; the sweet song of the birds piercedthrough the noise of the rolling river below, the air was fragrant andbracing, and as I left and commenced the rocky ascent leading again tothe mountains, the barks of some fierce-disposed canines, who aloneobjected to my presence among the hill-folk, died away with the rustleof the leafage in a keen north wind. 

One of my men was poorly, the solitary element to disturb the equanimityof our camp. 

It was Shanks. He had been suffering from toothache, and unfortunately Ihad no gum-balm with me; without my knowledge Lao Chang had rubbed insome strong embrocation to the fellow's cheek, so that now, in additionto toothache, he had also a badly blistered face, swollen up like apudding. Upon learning that I had no means of curing him or ofalleviating the pain, Shanks bellowed into my ear, loud enough to bringthe dead out of the grave-mounds on the surrounding hill-sides, "Puh p'ateh, pub p'a teh"; then, raising his carrying-pole to the correct angleon the hump on his back, went merrily forward, warbling some squealingChinese ditty. But Shanks was the songster of the party. He often madlydisturbed the silence of middle night by a sudden outburst inte song, and when shouted down by others who lay around, or kicked by the man whoshared his bed, and whose choral propensities were less in proportion, he would laugh wildly at them all. Poor Shanks; he was a peculiarmortal. He would laugh at men in pain, and think it sympathy. If wecould get no food or drink on the march, after having wearily toiledaway for hours, he would not be disposed to grumble--he would laugh. Such tragic incidents as the pony jumping over the precipice provokedhim to extreme laughter. [AX]

And when I caught him sewing up an open wound in the sole of his footwith common colored Chinese thread and a rusty needle, and told him thathe might thereby get blood poisoning, and lose his life or leg, he carednot a little. As a matter of fact, he laughed in my face. Not at me, notat all, but because he thought his laughter might probably delude thedevil who was president over the ills of that particular portion ofhuman anatomy. He came to me just outside Pu-pêng, where we saw a coffincontaining a corpse resting in the roadway whilst the bearers refreshednear by and, pointing thereto, told me that the man was "muh tsai" (nothere)--the Chinese never on any account mention the word death--and hissides shook with laughter, so much so that he dropped his loadsalongside the corpse, and startled the cock on top of the coffinguarding the spirit of the dead into a vigorous fit of crowing for fearof disaster. 

We enjoyed fairly level road, although rough, for ten li after leavingT'ai-p'ing-p'u. It rose gradually from 7, 400 feet to 8, 500 feet, andthen dipped suddenly, and continued at a fearful down gradient. I mightdescribe it as a member of a British infantry regiment once described tome a slope on the Himalayas. It was about eight years ago, and a fewfellows were at a smoker given to some Tommies returning from India, when a bottle-nosed individual, talking about a long march his battalionhad made up the Himalayas, in excellent descriptive exclaimed, "'Twasn'ta 'ill, 'twasn't a graydyent, 'twas a blooming precipice, guvnor. " TheHimalayas and the country I am now describing have therefore somethingin common. 

Just before this the beautiful mountains, behind which was the Tali-fuLake, made a sight worth coming a long way to see. 

Midway down the steep hill we happened on some lonely log cottages, twenty-five li from T'ai-p'ing-p'u (it is reckoned as thirty-five litraveling in the opposite direction). In the forest district I found thehouses all built of timber--wood piles placed horizontally anddovetailed at the ends, the roofs being thatched. You have merely tostep aside from the road, and you are in dense mountain forest; it ismanifestly easier and less costly than the mud-built habitation, although for their part the people are worse off because of the lack ofavailable ground for growing their crops. Here the people were stillessentially Lolo, and the big-footed women who boiled water under a shedhad difficulty in getting to understand what my men were talking about. 

The second descent is begun after a pleasant walk along level groundresembling a well-laid-out estate, and a treacherously rough milebrought us down to an iron chain bridge swung over the Shui-pi Ho, atthe far end of which, hidden behind bamboo matting, are a few idols inan old hut; they act in the dual capacity of gods of the river and themountain. Tea and some palatable baked persimmon--very like figs whenbaked--were brought me by an awful-looking biped who was still inmourning, his unshaven skull sadly betokening the fact. As I sipped mytea and cracked jokes with some Szech'wan men who declared they had metme in Chung-king (I must resemble in appearance a European resident inthat city; it was the fourth time I had been accused of living there), Iadmired the grand scenery farther along. Especially did I notice onepeak, towering perpendicularly away up past woods of closely-plantedpine and fir trees, the crystal summit glistening with sunlit snow; assoon as I started again on my journey, I was pulling up towards it. SoonI was gazing down upon the tiny patches of light green and a fewsolitary cottages, resembling a little beehive, and one could imaginethe metaphorical wax-laying and honey-making of the inhabitants. Thesepeople were away from all mankind, living in life-long loneliness, andall unconscious of the distinguished foreigner away up yonder, whowondered at their patient toiling, but who, like them, had hisYesterday, To-day and To-morrow. There they were, perched high up on thebleak mountain sides, with their joys and sorrows, their pains andpenalties, struggling along in domestic squalor, and rearing youngrusticity and raw produce. 

On these mountains in Yün-nan one sees hundreds of such littleencampments of a few families, passing their existence far from the roadof the traveler, who often wished he could descend to them and quenchhis thirst, and eat with them their rice and maize. Most of them herewere isolated families of tribespeople, who, out of contact with theirkind, have little left of racial resemblance, and yet are not fullyChinese, so that it is difficult to tell what they really are. Most wereLolo. 

Walking here was treacherous. A foot pathway was the main road, windingin and out high along the surface of the hills, in many places washedaway, and in others overgrown with grass and shrubbery. "Across China onFoot" would have met an untimely end had I made a false step or slippedon the loose stones in a momentary overbalance. I should have rolleddown seven hundred feet into the Shui-pi Ho. Once during the morning Isaw my coolies high up on a ledge opposite to me, and on practicallythe same level, a three-li gully dividing us. They were very small men, under very big hats, bustling along like busy Lilliputians, and my loadslooked like match-boxes. I probably looked to them not less grotesque. But we had to watch our footsteps, and not each other. 

We were rounding a corner, when I was surprised to see Hwan-lien-p'u acouple of li away. The _fu-song_ were making considerable hue and crybecause Rusty had rolled thirty feet down the incline, and as I looked Isaw the animal get up and commence neighing because he had lost sight ofus. He was in the habit of wandering on, nibbling a little here and alittle there, and rarely gave trouble unless in chasing an occasionalhorse caravan, when he gave my men some fun in getting him again intoline. 

It was not yet midday, and we had four hours' good going. So Icalculated. Not so my men. They could not be prevailed upon to budge, and knowing the Chinese just a little, I reluctantly kept quiet. It wasentirely unreasonable to expect them to go on to Ch'u-tung, ninety liaway--it was impossible. And I learnt that the reason they would not goon was that no house this side of that place was good enough to put ahorse into, even a Chinese horse, and they would not dream of taking meon under those conditions. There was not even a hut available for thetraveler, so they said. I had come over difficult country, ploddingupwards on tiptoe and then downwards with a lazy swing from stone tostone for miles. Throughout the day we had been going through finemountain forest, everywhere peaceful and beautiful, but it had been hardgoing. In the morning a heavy frost lay thick and white about us, and by10:30 a. M. The sun was playing down upon us with a merciless heat as wetramped over that little red line through the green of the hill-sides. Often in this march was I tempted to stay and sit down on the sward, but I had proved this to be fatal to walking. In traveling in Yün-nanone's practice should be: start early, have as few stops as possible, when a stop _is_ made let it be long enough for a real rest. InSzech'wan, where the tea houses are much more frequent, men will pull upevery ten li, and generally make ten minutes of it. In Yün-nan thesewelcome refreshment houses are not met with so often, and littleinducement is held out for the coolies to stop, but upon the slightestprovocation they will stop for a smoke. On this walking trip I made it arule to be off by seven o'clock, stop twice for a quarter of an hour upto tiffin (my men stopped oftener), when our rest was often for an hour, so that we were all refreshed and ready to push on for the fag-end ofthe stage. We generally were done by four or five o'clock. And I shouldbe the last in the world to deny that by this time I had had enough forone day. 

Upon arrival I immediately washed my feet, an excellent practice of theChinese, changed my footgear, drank many cups of tea, and often wentstraight to my p'ukai. The roads of China take it out of the strongestman. There are no Marathon runners here; progress is a tedious toil, often on all fours. 

My room at Hwan-lien-p'u was near a telegraph pole; there was atelegraph station there, where my men showed their admiration for theGovernmental organization by at once hammering nails into the pole. Itwas close to their laundry, and served admirably for the clothes-line, abamboo tied at one end with a string to a nail in the pole and the otherend stuck through the paper in the window of the telegraph operator'sapartment. But this is nothing. Years ago, when the telegraph was firstlaid down, the people took turns to displace the wires and sell them fortheir trouble, and to chop the poles up for firewood. It continued for aconsiderable period, until an offender--or one whom it was surmised haddone this or would have done it if he could--had his ears cut off, andwas led over the main road to the capital, to be admired by anycompatriot contemplating a deal in wiring or timber used for telegraphiccommunication purposes. 

Just below the town the river ran peacefully down a gradual incline. Idecided that a comfortable seat under a tree, spending an hour inpreparing this copy, would be more pleasant than moping about a noisomeand stench-ridden inn, providing precious little in the way ofentertainment for the foreigner. Next door a wedding party was makingthe afternoon hideous with their gongs and drums and crackers, andeverywhere the usual hue and cry went abroad because a European wasspending the day there. 

I imparted to my man my intentions for the afternoon. Immediatelypreparations were set on foot to get me down by the river, and it waspublicly announced to the townspeople. The news ran throughout the town, that is Hwan-lien-p'u's one little narrow street, a sad mixture of amilitary trench and a West of England cobbled court. And instead ofgoing alone to my shady nook by that silvery stream, 1 was accompaniedby nine adult members of the unemployed band, three boys, and sundrystark-naked urchins who seemed to be without home or habitation. One ofthese specimens of fleeting friendship was one-eyed, and a diseased hiprendered it difficult for him to keep pace with us; one was club-footed, one hair-lipped fellow had only half a nose, and they were nearly allgoitrous. As I write now these people, curious but not uncouth, arecrouched around me on their haunches, after the fashion of the ape, their more Darwinian-evolved companion and his shorthand notes beingadmired by an open-mouthed crowd. Down below my horse is entertainingthe more hilarious of the party in his tantrums with the man who istrying to wash him--

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AX: The day before, whilst we were passing along the edge of acliff, we saw a deliberate suicide on the part of a pony. Getting awayfrom its companions, it first jumped against a tree, then turned itshead sharply on the side of a cliff, finally taking a leap into mid-airover the precipice. It touched ground at about two hundred and fiftyfeet below this point, and then rolled out of sight. My men exhibited noconcern, and laughed me down because I did. It was, as they said, merelydiseased, and the muleteers went on their way, leaving horse and loadsto Providence. This sort of thing is not uncommon. --E. J. D. ]

CHAPTER XXI. 

_The mountains of Yün-nan_. _Wonderful scenery_. _Among theMohammedans_. _Sorry scene at Ch'u-tung_. _A hero of a horrid past_. _Infinite depth of Chinese character_. _Mule falls one hundred and fiftyyards, and escapes unhurt_. _Advice to future travelers_. _To Shayung_. _We meet Tibetans on the mountains_. _Chinese cruelty_. _Opium smoker asa companion_. _Opium refugees_. _One opinion only on the subject_. _Mission work among smokers and eaters. _

Mere words are a feeble means to employ to describe the mountains ofYün-nan. 

As I start from Hwan-lien-p'u this morning, to the left high hills arepicturesquely darkened in the soft and unruffled solemnity of their ownstill unbroken shade. Opposite, rising in pretty wavy undulation, withoccasional abruptions of jagged rock and sunken hollow, the steephill-sides are brought out in the brightest coloring of delicate lightand shade by the golden orb of early morn; towering majesticallysunwards, sheer up in front of me, high above all else, still moresombre heights stand out powerfully in solemn contrast against the paleblue of the spring sky, the effect in the distance being antitheticaland weird, with the magnificent Ts'ang Shan[AY] standing up as abeautiful background of perpendicular white, from whence range uponrange of dark lines loom out in the hazy atmosphere. From the extremesummit of one snow-laden peak, whose white steeple seems truly aheavenward-directed finger, I gaze abstractedly all around upon nothingbut dark masses of gently-waving hills, steep, weary ascents anddescents, green and gold, and yellow and brown, and one's eyes rest upona maze of thin white lines intertwining them all. These are the mainroads. I am alone. My men are far behind. I am awed with an unnaturalsense of bewildered wonderment in the midst of all this glory of theearth. 

Everything is so vast, so grand, so overpowering. Murmurings of thebirds alone break the sense of sadness and loneliness. Away yonderfull-grown pine trees, if discernible at all, are dwarfed so as toappear like long coarse grass. For some thirty li the road runs throughbeautiful woods, high above the valleys and the noise of the river; andnow we are running down swiftly to a point where two ranges meet, onlyto toil on again, slowly and wearily, up an awful gradient for two hoursor more. But the labor and all its fatiguing arduousness are nothingwhen one gets to the top, for one beholds here one of the mostmagnificent mountain panoramas in all West China. Far away, just peepingprettily from the silvered edges of the bursting clouds, are the giantpeaks which separate Tali-fu from Yang-pi--white giants with rugged, cruel edges pointing upwards, piercing the clouds asunder as a ship'sbow pierces the billows of the deep; and then, gradually coming from outthe mist, are no less than eight distinct ranges of mountains from14, 000 feet to 16, 000 feet high, besides innumerable minor heights, which we have traversed with much labor during the past four days, allrich with coloring and natural grandeur seen but seldom in all theworld. Switzerland could offer nothing finer, nothing more sweeping, nothing more beautiful, nothing more awe-inspiring. With the gloriousgrandeur of these wondrous hills, rising and falling playfully aroundthe main ranges, the marvellous tree growth, the delicate contrasts ofthe formidable peaks and the dainty, cultivated valleys, and the face ofNature everywhere absolutely unmarred, Switzerland could in no waycompare. 

Is it then surprising that I look upon these stupendous masses withwonder, which seem to breathe only eternity and immensity?

The air is pure as the breath of heaven, all is still and peaceful, andthe fact that in the very nature of things one cannot rush through thispervading beauty of the earth, but has to plod onwards step by stepalong a toilsome roadway, enables the scenery to be so impressed uponone's mind as to be focussed for life in one's memory. One is heldspellbound; these are the pictures never forgotten. Here I sit in acorner of the earth as old as the world itself. These mountains are asthey were in the great beginning, when the Creator and Sustainer of allthings pure and beautiful looked upon His handiwork and saw that it wasgood. 

The country here seems so vast as to render Nature unconquerable by man:man is insignificant, Nature is triumphant. Railways are defied; andthese mountains, running mostly at right angles, will probablynever--not in our time, at least--be made unsightly by the puffing andthe reeking of the modern railway engine. They present so many naturalobstacles to the opening-up of the country, according to the standard weWesterners lay down, that one would hesitate to prophesy any mode oftraffic here other than that of the horse caravan and human beast ofburden. Nature seems to look down upon man and his earth-scouringcontrivances, and assert, "Man, begone! I will have none of thee. " Andthe mountains turn upwards to the sky in_ silent reverence to theirMaker, whose work must in the main remain unchanged until eternity. 

It is now 12:30, and we have fifty li to cover before reachingCh'u-tung. We sit here to feed at a place called Siao-shui-tsing, asorry antediluvian make-shift of a building, where in subsequent travelI was hung up in bitter weather and had to pass the night. The people, courteous and civil as always, show a simple trustfulness with which isassociated some little suspicion. I gave a cake to a little child, butits mother would not allow it to be eaten until she was again and againassured and reassured that it was quite fit to eat. This home life ofthe very poor Chinese, if indeed it may be called home life, has alistlessness about it in marked contrast to that of the West. There islittle housework, no furniture more than a table and chair or two, andthe simplicity of the cooking arrangements does not tend to increase thework of the housewife. 

People here to-day are going about their work with a restfuldeliberation very trying to one in a hurry. The women, with infants tiedto their backs, do not work hard but very long. A mud-house is beingbuilt near by, and between the cooking and attending to passingtravelers, two women are digging the earth and filling up the baskets, while the men are mixing the mud, filling in the oblong wooden trough, and thus building the wall. At my elbow a man--old and grizzled anddirty--is turning back roll upon roll of his wadded garments, andridding it of as many as he can find of the insects with which it isinfested. A slobbering, boss-eyed cretin chops wood at my side, and whenI rise to try a snap on the women and the children they hide behind thewalls. Thus my time passes away, as I wait for the coolies who sit on alog in the open road feeding on common basins of dry rice. 

After that we had to cross the face of a steep hill. We could, however, find no road, no pathway even, but could merely see the scratchings ofcoolies and ponies already crossed. It was an achievement not unrisky, but we managed to reach the other side without mishap. My horse, owingto the stupidity of the man who hung on to his mouth to steady himself, put his foot in a hole and dragged the fool of a fellow some twentyyards downwards in the mud. My coolies, themselves in a spot mostdangerous to their own necks, stuck the outside leg deep in the mud torest themselves, and set to assiduously in blackguarding the man intheir richest vein, then, extricating themselves, again continued theirjourney, satisfied that they had shown the proper front, and saved theface of the foreigner who could not save it for himself. Then we allwent down through a narrow ravine into a lovely shady glade, all greenand refreshing, with a brook gurgling sweetly at the foot and birdssinging in the foliage. There was something very quaint in this cosycorner, with the hideous echoes and weird re-echoes of my men'ssquealing. Then we went on again from hill to hill, in a ten-inchfootway, broken and washed away, so that in places it was necessary tohang on to the evergrowing grass to keep one's footing in the slopes. One needs to have no nerves in China. 

Down in the valley were a number of muleteers from Burma, cooking theirrice in copper pans, whilst their ponies, most of them in horridcondition, and backs rubbed in some places to the extent of twelveinches square, grazed on the hill-sides. In most places the foot of thisravine would have been a river; here it was like a park, with prettygreen sward intersected by a narrow path leading down into a lane sothick with virgin growth as to exclude the sunlight. As we entered a mancame out with his p'ukai and himself on the back of a ten-hand pony; theanimal shied, and his manservant got behind and laid on mighty blowswith the butt-end of a gun he was carrying. The pony ceased shying. 

To Ch'u-tung was a tedious journey, rising and falling across the woodedhills, and when we arrived at some cottages by the riverside, the_fu-song_ had a rough time of it from my men for having brought us by along road instead of by the "new" road (so called, although I do notdoubt that it has been in use for many generations). Some Szech'wancoolies and myself had rice together on a low form away from the smoke, and the while listened to some tales of old, told by some half-witted, goitrous monster who seemed sadly out at elbow. The soldier meantimesmelt round for a smoke. As he and my men had decided a few moments agothat each party was of a very low order of humanity, their pipes for himwere not available. So he took pipe and dried leaf tobacco from thishalf-witted skunk, who, having wiped the stem in his eight-inch-longpants, handed it over in a manner befitting a monarch. It measured somesixty or seventy inches from stem to bowl. 

From Hwan-lien-p'u to Ch'u-tung is reckoned as eighty li; it is quiteone hundred and ten, and the last part of the journey, over barren, wind-swept hills, most fatiguing. 

In contrast to the beauty of the morning's scenery, the country wasblack and bare, and a gale blew in our faces. My spirits were raised, however, by a coolie who joined us and who had a remarkable knowledge ofthe whole of the West of China, from Chung-king to Singai, from Mengtszto Tachien-lu. Plied with questions, he willingly gave his answers, buthe would persist in leading the way. As soon as a man endeavored to passhim, he would trot off at a wonderful speed, making no ado of the 120pounds of China pots on his back, yelling his explanations all the timeto the man behind. Yung-p'ing-hsien lay over to the right, fifteen lifrom Ch'u-tung, which is protected from the elements by a bell-shapedhill at the foot of a mountain lit up with gold from the sinking sun, which dipped as I trudged along the uneven zigzag road leading acrossthe plain of peas and beans and winter crops. Four eight-inch planks, placed at various dangerous angles on three wood trestles, form thebridge across the fifty-foot stream dividing Ch'u-tung from the world onthe opposite side. Across this I saw men wander with their loads, andthen I led Rusty in. Whilst the stream washed his legs, I sat danglingmine until called upon to make way for another party of travelers. Remarkable is the agility of these men. They swing along over eightinches of wood as if they were in the middle of a well-paved road. 

Ch'u-tung is a Mohammedan town. There are a few Chinese only--Buddhists, Taoists and other ragtags; although when the follower of the Prophet hashis pigtail attached to the inside of his hat, as it not unusual when hegoes out fully dressed, there is little difference between him and theChinese. 

Pigs here are conspicuously absent. People feed on poultry and beef. Irested in this city some month or so after my first overland trip whilstmy man went to convert silver into cash, a trying ordeal always. WhilstI sipped my tea and ate a couple of rice cakes, I was impressed, as Iseldom have been in my wanderings, with the remarkable number of people, from the six hundred odd houses the town possesses, who during thathalf-hour found nothing whatever to do to benefit themselves or thecommunity, as members of which they passed monotonous lives, but tostare aimlessly at the resting foreigner. The report spread likewildfire, and they ran to the scene with haste, pulling on their coats, wiping food from their mouths, scratching their heads _en route_, onetrouser-leg up and the other down, all anxious to get a seat near thestage. A river flows down the center of the street, and into this asleepy fellow got tipped bodily in the crush, sat down in the water, seemingly in no hurry to move until he had finished his vigorousbullying of the man who pushed him in. Those who could not get standingroom near my table went out into the street and shaded the sun fromtheir eyes, in order that they might catch even a glimpse of thetraveler who sat on in uncompromising indifference. 

Several old wags were there who had witnessed the Rebellion--at themoment, had I not become callous, another might have seemedimminent--and were looked up to by the crowd as heroes of a horrid past, being listened to with rapt attention as they described what it was thecrowd looked at and whence it came. Had I been a wild animal let loosefrom its cage, mingled curiosity and a peculiar foreboding among thepeople of something terrible about to happen could not have been moreintense. 

But I had by this time got used to their crowding, so that I couldwrite, sleep, eat, drink, and be merry, and go through personal andprivate routine with no embarrassment. If I turned for the purpose, Icould easily stare out of face a member of the crowd whose inquisitivepropensities had become annoying, but as soon as he left another filledthe gap. Quite pitiful was it to see how trivial articles of foreignmanufacture--such, for instance, as the cover of an ordinary tin or thefabric of one's clothing--brought a regular deluge of childish interestand inane questioning; and if I happened to make a few shorthand notesupon anything making a particular impression, a look half surprised, half amused, went from one to another like an electric current. Had Ibeen scheming out celestial hieroglyphics their mouths could not haveopened wider. As I write now I am asked by a respectable person how manyounces of silver a Johann Faber's B. B. Costs. I have told him, and hehas retired smiling, evidently thinking that I am romancing. 

That I impress the crowd everywhere is evident. But with all theirquestioning, they are rarely rude; their stare is simply the stare oflittle children seeing a thing for the first time in their lives. It isall so hard to understand. My silver and my gold they solicit not; theymerely desire to see me and to feel me. A certain faction of the crowd, however, do solicit my silver. 

Lao Chang has been buying vegetables, and has brought all the vegetablegardeners and greengrocers around me. The poultry rearers are here too, and the forage dealers and the grass cutters and the basket makers, andother thrifty members of the commercial order of Ch'u-tung humankind. When I came away the people dropped into line and strained their necksto get a parting smile. I was sped on my way with a public curiosity asif I were a penal servitor released from prison, a general home from awar, or something of that kind. And so this wonderful wonder of wonderswas glad when he emerged from the labyrinthic, brain-confusingbewilderment of Chinese interior life of this town into somewhat clearerregions. I could not understand. And to the wisest man, wide as may behis vision, the Chinese mind and character remain of a depth as infiniteas is its possibility of expansion. The volume of Chinese nature is oneof which as yet but the alphabet is known to us. 

My own men had got quite used to me, and their minds were directed moreto working than to wondering. In China, as in other Asiatic countries, one's companions soon accustom themselves to one's little peculiaritiesof character, and what was miraculous to the crowd had by simplerepetition ceased to be miraculous to them. 

As I put away my notebook after writing the last sentence, I saw a muleslip, fall, roll for one hundred and fifty yards, losing its load on thedown journey, and then walk up to the stream for a drink. [AZ]

We started for Shayung on February 2nd, 1910, going over a roadliterally uncared for, full of loose-jointed stones and sinking sand, down which ponies scrambled, while the Tibetans in charge coveredthemselves close in the uncured skins they wore. This was the first timeI had ever seen Tibetans. They had huge ear-rings in their ears, andtheir antiquated topboots--much better, however, than the Yün-nantopboot--gave them a peculiar appearance as they tramped downward in thefrost. 

Going up with us was a Chinese, on the back of a pony not more thaneleven hands high, sitting as usual with his paraphernalia lashed to theback of the animal. He laughed at me because I was not riding, whilst Itried to solve the problem of that indefinable trait of Chinese naturewhich leads able-bodied men with sound feet to sit on these littlebrutes up those terrible mountain sides. Some parts of this spur weremuch steeper than the roof of a house--as perpendicular as can beimagined--but still this man held on all the way. And the Chinese do itcontinuously, whether the pony is lame or not, at least the majority. But the cruelty of the Chinese is probably not regarded as cruelty, certainly not in the sense of cruelty in the West. Being Chinese, withcustoms and laws of life such as they are, their instinct of cruelty isexcusable to some degree. Not only is it with animals, however, butamong themselves the Chinese have no mercy, no sympathy. In ChristianEngland within the last century men where hanged for petty theft; but inYün-nan--I do not know whether it is still current in otherprovinces--men have been known to be burnt to death for stealing maize. A case was reported from Ch'u-tsing-fu quite recently, but it is acustom which used to be quite common. A document is signed by the man'srelatives, a stick is brought by every villager, the man lashed to astake, and his own people are compelled to light the fire. It seemsincredible, but this horrible practice has not been entirely extirpatedby the authorities, although since the Yün-nan Rebellion it has not beenby any means so frequent. I have no space nor inclination to deal withthe ghastly tortures inflicted upon prisoners in the name of that greatequivalent to justice, but the more one knows of them the more can heappreciate the common adage urging _dead men to keep out of hell and theliving out of the yamens_!

Hua-chow is thirty li from here at the head of an abominable hill, andhere women, overlooking one of the worst paved roads in the Empire, werebeating out corn. Then we climbed for another twenty-five li, risingfrom 5, 900 feet to 8, 200 feet, till we came to a little place calledTien-chieng-p'u. It took us three hours. Looking backwards, towardsTali-fu, I saw my 14, 000 feet friends, and as we went down the otherside over a splendid stone road we could see, far down below, a valleywhich seemed a veritable oasis, smiling and sweet. A temple herecontained a battered image of the Goddess of Mercy, who controls thebirths of children. A poor woman was depositing a few cash in front ofthe besmeared idol, imploring that she might be delivered of a son. Howpitiable it is to see these poor creatures doing this sort of thing allover the West of China!

For two days we had been accompanied by a man who was an opium smokerand eater. Now I am not going to draw a horrible description of ashrivelled, wasted bogey in man's form, with creaking bones andshivering limbs and all the rest of it; but I must say that this man, towards the time when his craving came upon him, was a wreck in everyworst sense--he crept away to the wayside and smoked, and arrived alwayslate at night at the end of the stage. This was the effect of the drugwhich has been described "as harmless as milk. " I do not exaggerate. Inthe course of Eastern journalistic experience I have written much indefence of opium, have paralleled it to the alcohol of my own country. This was in the Straits Settlements, where the deadly effects of opiumare less prominent. But no language of mine can exaggerate the evil, andif I would be honest, I cannot describe it as anything but China's mostawful curse. It cannot be compared to alcohol, because its grip is morespeedy and more deadly. It is more deadly than arsenic, because byarsenic the suicide dies at once, while the opium victim suffers untoldagonies and horrors and dies by inches. It is all very well for the menwho know nothing about the effect of opium to do all the talking aboutthe harmlessness of this pernicious drug; but they should come throughthis once fair land of Yün-nan and see everywhere--not in isolateddistricts, but everywhere--the ravaging effects in the poverty anddwarfed constitutions of the people before they advocate the continuanceof the opium trade. I have seen men transformed to beasts through itsuse; I have seen more suicides from the effect of opium since I havebeen in China than from any other cause in the course of my life. As Iwrite I have around me painfullest evidence of the crudest ravishings ofopium among a people who have fallen victims to the craving. There isonly one opinion to be formed if to himself one would be true. I givethe following quotation from a work from the pen of one of the mostfair-minded diplomatists who have ever held office in China:--

"The writer has seen an able-bodied and apparently rugged laboringChinese tumble all in a heap upon the ground, utterly nerveless andunable to stand, because the time for his dose of opium had come, anduntil the craving was supplied he was no longer a man, but the merestheap of bones and flesh. In the majority of cases death is the sureresult of any determined reform. The poison has rotted the whole system, and no power to resist the simplest disease remains. In many years'residence in China the writer knew of but four men who finally abandonedthe habit. (Where opium refuges have been conducted by missionaries, reports more favorable have been given concerning those who have becomeChristians. ) Three of them lived but a few months thereafter; the fourthsurvived his reformation, but was a life-long invalid. "[BA]

Much good work is now being done by the missionaries, and the number ofthose who have given up the habit has probably increased since Mr. Holcombe wrote the above. In point of fact, helping opium victims is oneof the most important branches of mission work. _China's Past and Future_ (p. 165) by Chester Holcombe. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote AY: The range of mountains which I had skirted since leavingTali-fu. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote AZ: On my return journey into Yün-nan, I again called atCh'u-tung, traveling not by the main road, but by a steep pathintertwisting through almost impossible places, and requiring four timesthe amount of physical exertion. I was led over what was called a newroad. It was quite impossible to horses carrying loads, and only bytremendous effort could I climb up. How my coolies managed it remains amystery. And then, as is almost inevitable with these "new" roads andthe "short" cuts, they invariably lose their way. Mine did. Hopeless wasour obscurity, unspeakable our confusion. Men kept vanishing andre-appearing among the rocks, and it was very difficult to fix ourposition geographically. Up and up we went, in and out, twisting andturning in an endless climb. A gale blew, but at times we pulledourselves up by the dried grass in semi-tropical heat. After severalhours, standing on the very summit of this bleak and lofty mountain, Icould just discern Ch'u-tung and Yung-p'ing-hsien far away down in themists. There lay the "ta lu" also, like a piece of white ribbonstretched across black velvet--the white road on the burnt hill-sides. We were opposite the highest peaks in the mountains beyond the plain, far towards Tengyueh--they are 12, 000 feet, we were at least 10, 500feet, and as Ch'u-tung is only 5, 500 feet, our hours of toil may beimagined. When we reached the top we found nothing to eat, nothing todrink (not even a mountain stream at which we could moisten our parchedlips), simply two memorial stones on the graves of two dead men, who hadmerited such an outrageous resting-place. I donned a sweater and layflat on the ground, exhausted. It must have been a stiff job to bring upboth stones and men. 

I strongly advise future travelers to keep to the main road in thisdistrict. --E. J. D. ]

[Footnote BA:]

FOURTH JOURNEY

THE MEKONG VALLEY TO TENGYUEH

CHAPTER XXII. 

_The Valley of the Shadow of Death_. _Stages to Tengyueh_. _The RiverMekong, Bridge described_. _An awful ascent_. _On-the-spot conclusions_. _Roads needed more than railways_. _At Shui-chai_. _A noisy domesticscene at the place where I fed_. _Disregard of the value of femalelife_. _Remarkable hospitality of the gentry of the city_. _Hard going_. _Lodging at a private house on the mountains_. _Waif of the worldentertains the stranger_. _From Ban-chiao to Yung-ch'ang_. _Buffaloesand journalistic ignorance_. _Excited scene at Pu-piao_. _Chinesebarbers_. _A refractory coolie_. _Military interest. _

The journey which I was about to undertake was the most memorable of mytravels in China, with the exception of those in the unexplored MiaoLands; for I was to pass through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, thedreaded Salwen Valley. I had made up my mind that I would stay here fora night to see the effects of the climate, but postponed my sojournintead to a later period, when I stayed two days, and went up thelow-lying country towards the source of the river; I am, so far as Iknow, the only European who has ever traveled here. Not that myjourneyings will convey any great benefit upon anyone but myself, as Ihad no instruments for surveying or taking accurate levels, and mightnot have been able to use them had I had them with me. However, I camein contact with Li-su, and saw in my two marches a good deal of newlife, which only acts as an incentive to see more. My plan on thepresent occasion was to travel onwards by the following stages:--

 Length Height of Stage Above Sea

 1st day--Tali-shao 65 li. 7, 200 ft. 2nd day--Yung-ch'ang-fu 75 li. 5, 500 ft. 5th day--Fang-ma-ch'ang 90 li. 7, 300 ft. 6th day--Ta-hao-ti 120 li. 8, 200 ft. 7th day--Tengyueh (Momien) 85 li. 5, 370 ft. 

On Friday, February 26th, 1909, I steamed up the muddy mouth of theMekong to Saigon in Indo-China in a French mail steamer. To-day, February 3rd, 1910, I cross the same river many hundreds of miles fromwhere it empties into the China Sea. I cross by a magnificent suspensionbridge. 

A cruel road, almost vertical and negotiated by a twining zigzag path, has brought me down, after infinite labor, from the mountains over 4, 000feet below my highest point reached yesterday, and I now stand in themiddle of the bridge gazing at the silent green stream flowing betweencliffs of wall-like steepness. I am resting, for I have to climb againimmediately to over 8, 000 feet. This bridge has a wooden base swingingon iron chains, and is connected with the cliffs by bulwarks of solidmasonry. It is hard to believe that I am 4, 000 feet above the mouth ofthe river. To my left, as I look down the torrent, there are tea-shopsand a temple alongside a most decorative buttress on which the carvingis elaborate. At the far end, just before entering the miniature tunnelbranching out to a paved roadway leading upwards, my coolies are sittingin truly Asiatic style admiring huge Chinese characters hacked into theside of the natural rock, descriptive of the whole business, and under asheltering roof are also two age-worn memorial tablets in gilt. My men'spatriotic thermometer has risen almost to bursting-point, and inadmiring the work of the ancients they feel that they have a legitimateexcuse for a long delay. 

At a temple called P'ing-p'o-t'ang we drank tea, and prepared ourselvesfor the worst climb experienced in our long overland tramp. 

The Mekong is at this point just 4, 000 feet above sea level, as has beensaid; the point in front of us, running up perpendicularly to a narrowpass in the mountains, leads on to Shui-chai (6, 700 feet), and on againto Tali-shao, itself 7, 800 feet high, the mountains on which it occupiesa ledge being much higher. For slipperiness and general hazards thisroad baffles description. It leads up step by step, but not regularsteps, not even as regularity goes in China. 

"There are two small arched bridges in the journey. On the first I sitdown and gaze far away down to the shining river below, and must ascendagain in the wake of my panting men. . . . Where the road is not naturalrock, it is composed of huge fragments of stone in the rough state, smooth as the face of a mirror, haphazardly placed at such dangerousspots as to show that no idea of building was employed when the road wasmade. Sometimes one steps twenty inches from one stone to another, andwere it not that the pathway is winding, although the turning andtwisting makes unending toil, progress in the ascent would beimpossible. . . . Mules are passing me--puffing, panting, perspiring. Poorbrutes! One has fallen, and in rolling has dragged another with him, andthere the twain lie motionless on those horrid stones while theexhausted muleteers raise their loads to allow them slowly to regaintheir feet. There are some hundreds of them now on the hill. "

This description was made in shorthand notes in my notebook as Iascended. And I find again:--

"I have seen one or two places in Szech'wan like this, but the danger isincomparably less and the road infinitely superior. We pull and pantand puff up, up, up, around each bend, and my men can scarce go forward. Huge pieces of rock have fallen from the cliff, and well-nigh block theway, and just ahead a landslip has carried off part of our course. Theroad is indescribably difficult because it is so slippery and one canget no foothold. My pony, carrying nothing but the little flesh whichbad food has enabled him to keep, has been down on his knees four times, and once he rolled so much that I thought that he must surely go overthe ravine. . . . Rocks overhang me as I pass. If one should drop!. . . Butone does not mind the toil when he looks upon his men. In the midst oftheir intense labor my men's squeals of songs echo through the mountainsas the perspiration runs down their uncovered backs; they chaff eachother and utmost good feeling prevails. Poor Shanks is nearly done, butstill laughs loudly. . . . A natural pathway more difficult of progress Icannot conceive anywhere in the world; and yet this is a so-called pavedroad, the road over which all the trade of the western part of thisgreat province, all the imports from Burma, are regularly carried. Should the road ever be discarded, that is if the railway ever comesover this route, only a long tunnel through the mountain would serve itspurpose. . . . We have just sat down and fraternized with the man carryingthe mails to Tali-fu, and now we are working steadily for the top, around corners where the breeze comes with delicious freshness. Here weare on a road now leading through a widening gorge to Shui-chai, and asI cross the narrow pass I see the river down below looking like a snakewaiting for its prey. "

Roads are needed far more than railways. 

Being hungry, we sat down at Shui-chai to feed on rice at a place wherea man minded the baby while the woman attended to the food. Over my headhung sausages--my men swore that they were sausages, although for mylife I could see no resemblance to that article of food--things of 1 1/2inches in circumference and from 12 to 60 inches long, doubled up andhung up for sale over a bamboo to dry and harden in the sun. Hams therewere, and dried bacon, and dirty brown biscuits, and uninviting pickledcabbage. By the side of the table where I sat was a wooden pun ofunwashed rice bowls, against which lay the filthy domestic dog. 

Outside, the narrow street was lined to the farthest point of vantage bykindly people, curious to see their own feeding implements in theincapable hands of the barbarian from the Western lands, and theconversation waxed loud and excited in general hazards regarding mypresence in their city. 

Stenches were rife; they nearly choked one. 

A little boy yelled out to his mother in complaint of the food he hadbeen given by a feminine twelve-year-old, his sister. The motherimmediately became furious beyond all control. She snatched a bamboo tobelabor the girl, and in chasing her knocked over the pun of potsaforesaid. The place became a Bedlam. Men rose from their seats, andwith their mouths full of rice expostulated in vainest mediation, wavingtheir chopsticks in the air, and whilst the mother turned upon them ingrossest abuse the daughter cleared out at the back of the premises. Ileft the irate parent brandishing the bamboo; her voice was heard beyondthe town. 

But I was not allowed to leave the town. All the intellect of the placehad assembled in one of the shops, into which I was gently drawn by thecoat sleeve by a good-natured, well-dressed humpback, and all of the menassembled began an examination as to who the dignitary was, hishonorable age, the number of the wives, sons and daughters he possessed, with inevitable questioning into the concerns of his patriarchalforbears. Accordingly I once again searched the archives of my elasticmemory, and there found all information readily accessible, so that ina few moments, by the aid of Bailer's _Primer_, I had explained that Iwas a stranger within their gates, wafted thither by circumstancesextraordinarily auspicious, and had satisfied them concerning myparentage, birthplace, prospects and pursuits, with introspectiveanecdotal references to various deceased members of my family tree. Idid not tell them the truth--that I was a pilgrim from a far country, footsore and travel-soiled, that I had been well-nigh poisoned by theirbad cooking and blistered with their bug-bites!

I rose to go. Like automotons, everyone in the company rose with me. Thehumpback again caught me, this time by both hands, and warmly pressed meto stay and "uan" ("play") a little. "Great Brother, " he ejaculated, "why journeyest thou wearisomely towards Yung-ch'ang? Tarry here. " Andhe had pushed me back again into my chair, he had re-filled my teacup, and invited me to tell more tales of antiquarian relationship. Andfinally I was allowed to go. Greater hospitality could not have beenshown me anywhere in the world. 

The day had been hard going. We pursued our way unheedingly, as menknowing not whither we went; and at 4:00 p. M. , fearing that we shouldnot be able to make Ban-chiao, where we intended stopping, I decided togo no farther than Tali-shao. The evening was one of the happiest Ispent in my journeys, although personal comfort was entirely lacking. The place is made up of just a few hovels; people were hostile, andturned a deaf ear to my men's entreaties for shelter. For veryhelplessness I laughed aloud. I screamed with laughter, and the folkgathered to see me almost in hysterics. They soon began to smile, thento laugh, and seeing the effect, I laughed still louder, and soon hadthe whole village with tears of laughter making furrows down theirunwashed faces, laughing as a pack of hyenas. At last a kind old womangave way to my boy's persuasions, beckoning us to follow her into ahouse. Here we found a young girl of about nine summers in charge. Itwas all rare fun. There was nothing to eat, and so the men went one hereand another there buying supplies for the night. Another cleared outthe room, and made it a little habitable. The bull-dog coolie cooked therice, Shanks boiled eggs and cut up the pork into small slices, anotherfed the pony, and then we fed ourselves. 

In the evening a wood fire was kindled in the corner near my bed, and weall sat round on the mud floor--stools there were none--to tell yarns. My confederates were out for a spree. We smoked and drank tea andyarned. Suddenly a stick would be thrust over my shoulder to the fire:it was merely a man's pipe going to the fire for a light. Chinese neveruse matches; it is a waste when there are so many fires about. If on theroad a man wants to light his pipe, he walks into a home and gets itfrom the fire. No one minds. No notice is taken of the intrusion. Everybody is polite, and the man may not utter a word. At a waysidefood-shop a man may go behind to where the cooking is being conducted, poke his pipe into the embers, and walk out pulling at it, all asnaturally as if that man were in his own house. An Englishman would havea rough time of it if he had to go down on his hands and knees and pullaway at a pipe from a fire on the floor. 

No father, no mother, no elder brother had the little girl in charge. She was left without friends entirely, and a man must have been a hardman indeed were he to steel his heart against such a helpless littleone. I called her to me, gave her a little present, and comforted her asshe cried for the very knowledge that an Englishman would do a kind actto a little waif such as herself. She was in the act of giving back themoney to me, when Lao Chang, with pleasant aptitude, interposed, explained that foreigners occasionally develop generous moods, and thatshe had better stop crying and lock the money away. She did this, butthe poor little mite nearly broke her heart. 

Ban-chiao, which we reached early the next morning, is a considerabletown, where most of the people earn their livelihood at dyeing. Thosewho do not dye drink tea and pass rude remarks about itinerant magnates, such as the author. I passed over the once fine, rough-planked bridge atthe end of the town. 

In the evening we are at Yung-ch'ang. Here I saw for the first time inmy life a man carrying a _cangue, _ and a horrible, sickening feelingseized me as I tramped through the densely-packed street and watched thepoor fellow. The mob were evidently clamoring for his death, and wereprepared to make sport of his torments. There is nothing more gloriousto a brutal populace than the physical agony of a helplessfellow-creature, nothing which produces more mirth than the despair, thepain, the writhing of a miserable, condemned wretch. 

Great drops of sweat bathed his brow, and as one, looked on one feltthat he might pray that his hot and throbbing blood might rush inmerciful full force to a vital center of his brain, so that he mightfall into oblivion. The jeers and the mockery of a pitiless multitudeseemed too awful, no matter what the man's crime had been. 

Yung-ch'ang (5, 500 feet) is as well known as any city in Far WesternChina. I stayed here for two days' rest, the only disturbing elementbeing a wretch of a mother-in-law who made unbearable the life of herson's wife, a girl of about eighteen, who has probably by this timetaken opium, if she has been able to get hold of it, and so ended amiserable existence. 

On a return visit this mother-in-law, as soon as she caught sight of me, ran to fetch an empty tooth-powder tin, a small black safety pin, andtwo inches of lead pencil I had left behind me on the previous visit. Ihave made more than one visit to Yung-ch'ang, and the people have alwaystreated me well. 

Along the ten li of level plain from the city, on the road which led upagain to the mountains, I counted-no less than 409 bullocks laden withnothing but firewood, and 744 mules and ponies carrying cotton yarn andother general imports coming from Burma. There was a stampede at thefoot of the town, and quite against my own will, I assure the reader, Igot mixed up in the affair as I stood watching the light and shadeeffects of the morning sun on the hill-sides. Buffaloes, with a crudehoop collar of wood around their coarse necks, dragged rough-hewn planksalong the stone-paved roadway, the timber swerving dangerously from sideto side as the heavy animals pursued their painful plodding. To theChinese the buffalo is the safest of all quadrupeds, if we perhapsexcept the mule, which, if three legs give way, will save himself on theremaining one. But it is certainly the slowest. I am here reminded thatwhen I was starting on this trip a journalistic friend of mine, who hadspent some years in one of the coast ports, tried to dissuade me fromcoming, and cited the buffalo as the most treacherous animal to be meton the main road in China. He put it in this way:

"Well, old man, you have evidently made up your mind, but I would nottake it on at any price. The buffaloes are terrors. They smell you evenif they do not see you; they smell you miles off. It may end up by yourbeing chased, and you will probably be gored to death. "

The buffalo is the most peaceful animal I know in China. Miniaturebelfries were attached to the wooden frames on the backs of carryingoxen, and were it not for the huge tenor bell and its gong-like soundkeeping the animal in motion, the slow pace would be slower still. 

Turning suddenly and abruptly to the left, we commenced a cold journeyover the mountains, although the sun was shining brightly. A goitrousman came to me and waxed eloquent about some uncontrollable pig whichwas dragging him all over the roadway as he vainly tried to get it tomarket. Some dozen small boys, with hatchets and scythes over theirshoulders for the cutting of firewood they were looking for, laughed atme as I ploughed through the mud in my sandals. We had been going forthree hours, and when, cold and damp, we got inside a cottage for tea, Ifound that we had covered only twenty li--so we were told by an oldfogey who brushed up the floor with a piece of bamboo. He was dressed inwhat might have been termed undress, and was most vigorous in hiscondemnation of foreigners. 

Leng-shui-ch'ang we passed at thirty-five li out, and just beyond theaneroid registered 7, 000 feet; Yung-ch'ang Plain is 5, 500 feet; Pu-piaoPlain-is 4, 500 feet. The range of hills dividing the two plains wasbare, the clouds hung low, and the keen wind whistled in our faces andnipped our ears. Ten li from Pu-piao, on a barren upland overlooking thevalley, a mere boy had established himself as tea provider for thetraveler. A foreign kerosene tin placed on three stones was the generalcistern for boiling water, which was dipped out and handed round in aslip of bamboo shaped like a mug with a stick to hold it by. Farther on, sugar-cane grew in a field to the left, and near by a man sat on hishaunches on the ground feeding a sugar-grinding machine propelled by abuffalo, who patiently tramped round that small circle all day and everyday. 

Turning from this, I beheld one of the worst sights I have ever seen inChina. Seven dogs were dragging a corpse from a coffin, barely coveredwith earth, which formed one of the grave mounds which skirt the road. No one was disturbed by the scene; it was not uncommon. But theforeigner suffered an agonizing sickness, for which his companions wouldhave been at a loss to find any possible reason, and was relieved toreach Pu-piao. 

Market was at its height. It was warm down here in the valley. Thestreets were packed with people, many of whom were pushed bodily intothe piles of common foreign and native merchandise on sale on eitherside of the road. A clodhopper of a fellow, jostled by my escort, fellinto a stall and broke the huge umbrella which formed a shelter for thevendor and his goods, and my boy was called upon to pay. Fifty cashfixed the matter. I walked into a crowded inn and made majestically forthe extreme left-hand corner. Everybody wondered, and softly asked hisneighbor what in the sacred name of Confucius had come upon them. 

"See his boots! Look at his old hat! What a face! It _is_ a monstrosity, and--"

But as I sat down the general of the establishment cruelly forced backthe people, and screamingly yelled at the top of his voice that thosewho wanted to drink tea in the room must pay double rates. His unusualannouncement was received with a low grunt of dissatisfaction, but noone left. Every table in the square apartment was soon filled with sixor eight men, and the noise was terrific. Curiosity increased. The funwas, as the comic papers say, fast and furious; and despite theill-favored pleasantries passed by my own men and the inquisitivetea-shop keeper-as to peculiarities of heredity in certain noisymembers of the crowd, a riot seemed inevitable. I stationed my twosoldiers in the narrow doorway to defend the only entrance and entertainthe uninitiated with stories of their prowess with the rifle and of theweapon's deadliness. Boys climbed like monkeys to the overhead beams toget a glimpse of me as I fed, and incidentally shook dust into my food. 

Everyone pushed to where there was standing room. Outside a rolling seaof yellow faces surmounted a mass of lively blue cotton, all eager for alook. The din was terrible. All very visibly annoyed were my men at therudeness of their low-bred fellow countrymen, and especially surprisedat the equanimity of Ding Daren in tolerating quietly their pointed andpersonal remarks. I became more and more the hero of the hour. 

Turning to the crowd as I came out, I smiled serenely, and with a quietwave of the hand pointed out in faultless English that the gulf betweenmy own country and theirs was already wide enough, and that GreatBritain might--did not say that she _would_, but might--widen it stillmore if they persisted in treating her subjects in China as monstrousspecimens of the human race. This was rigorously corroborated by my twosoldier-men, to whom I appealed, and a parting word on the ordinarypoliteness of Western nations to a greasy fellow (he was a worker inbrass), who felt my clothes with his dirty fingers, ended an interestingbreak in the day's monotony. In the street the crowd again was at myheels, and evinced more than comfortable curiosity in my straw sandals. They cost me thirty cash, equal to about a halfpenny in our coinage. 

Since then I have paid other visits to Pu-piao. On one occasion insubsequent travel I had a public shave there. My arrival at the inn inthe nick of time enabled me to buttonhole the barber who was picking uphis traps to clear, and I had one of the best shaves I have ever had inmy life, in one of the most uncomfortable positions I ever remember. Myseat was a low, narrow form with no back or anything for my neck to restupon, and afterwards I went through the primitive and painful massageprocess of being bumped all over the back. Between every four or fivewhacks the barber snapped his fingers and clapped his hands, and rightglad was I when he had finished. The yard was full, even to the stableand cook-house alongside each other, the anger of a grizzly old dame, who smoked a reeking pipe and who had charge of the rice-and-cabbagedepot, being eclipsed only by my infuriated barber as he gave cruel ventto his anger upon my aching back. 

This reminds me of an uncomfortable shave I had some ten years ago inTrinidad, where a black man sat me on the trunk of a tree whilst he gotbehind and rested my head on one knee and got to work with an implementwhich might have made a decent putty knife, but was never meant to cutwhiskers. However, in the case of the Chinese his knife was in faircondition, but he grunted a good deal over my four-days' growth. 

This little story should not convey the impression that I am an advocateof the public shave in China, or anywhere else; but there are times whenone is glad of it. I have been shaved by Chinese in many places; andwhilst resident at Yün-nan-fu with a broken arm a man came regularly tome, his shave sometimes being delightful, and--sometimes not. 

I had another rather amusing experience at Pu-piao about a month afterthis. A supplementary coolie had been engaged for me at Tengyueh at asomewhat bigger wage than my other men were getting, and this, known, ofcourse, to them, added to the fact that he was not carrying the heaviestload, did not tend to produce unmarred brotherhood among them. The manhad been told that he would go on to Tali-fu with me on my return trip, so that when I took the part of my men (who had come many hundreds ofmiles with me, and who had engaged another man on the route to fill thegap), in desiring to get rid of him, he certainly had some right on hisside. The day before we reached Yung-ch'ang he was told that at thatplace he would not be required any longer; but he decided then and thereto go no farther, and refused point-blank to carry when we were readyto start. I should have recompensed him fully, however, for hisdisappointment had he not made some detestable reference to my mother, in what Lao Chang assured me was not strictly parliamentary language. Assoon as I learnt this--I was standing near the fellow--he somehow fellover, sprawling to the floor over my walnut folding chair, which snappedat the arm. It was my doing. The man said no more, picked up his loads, and was the first to arrive at Yung-ch'ang, so that a little force wasnot ineffective. 

Indiscriminate use of force I do not advocate, however; I believe in thereverse, as a matter of fact. I rarely hit a man; but there have beenoccasions when, a man having refused to do what he has engaged to do, orin cases of downright insolence, a little push or a slight cut with mystick has brought about a capital feeling and gained for me immediaterespect. 

Fang-ma-ch'ang, off the main road, was our sleeping-place. Travelersrarely take this road. Gill took it, I believe, but Baber, Davies andother took the main road. This short road was more fatiguing than themain road would have been. 

We again turned a dwelling-house upside down. People did not at firstwish to take me in, so I pushed past the quarrelsome man in the doorway, took possession, and set to work to get what I wanted. Soon the peoplecalmed down and gave all they could. My bed I spread near the door, andto catch a glimpse of me as I lay resting, the inhabitants, in much thesame manner as people at home visit and revisit the cage of jungle-bredtigers at a menagerie, assembled and reassembled with considerableconfusion. But I was beneath my curtains. So they came again, and when Iate my food by candlelight many human and tangible products of the pastglared in at the doorway. After dark we all foregathered in the middleof the room and round the camp fire, the conversation taking a pleasantturn from ordinary things, such as the varying distances from place toplace, how many basins of rice each man could eat, and other Chinesecommonplaces, to things military. Everybody warmed to the subject. Mymilitary bodyguard were the chief speakers, and cleverly brought roundthe smoky fire, for the benefit of the thick-headed rustics who made upthe fascinated audience, a modern battlefield, and made theirdescription horrible enough. 

One carefully brought out his gun, waving it overhead to add to thetragedy, as he weaved a powerful story of shell splinters, blood-filledtrenches, common shot, men and horses out of which all life and virtuehad been blown by gunpowder. The picture was drawn around the Chinesevillage, and in the dim glimmer each man's thought ran swiftly to hisown homestead and the green fields and the hedgerows and dwellings allblown to atoms--left merely as a place of skulls. They spoke of greatand horrible implements of modern warfare, invented, to their minds, bythe devilry of the West. Each man chipped in with a little color, andthe company broke up in fear of dreaming of the things of which they hadheard, afraid to go to their straw to sleep. 

As I lay in my draughty corner, my own mind turned to what the next daywould bring, for I was to go down to the Valley of the Shadow ofDeath--the dreaded Salwen. I had read of it as a veritable death-trap. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

_To Lu-chiang-pa_. _Drop from 8, 000 feet to 2, 000 feet_. _Shans meet forthe first time_. _Dangers of the Salwen Valley exaggerated_. _Howreports get into print_. _Start of the climb from 2, 000 feet to over8, 000 feet_. _Scenery in the valley_. _Queer quintet of soldiers_. _Semi-tropical temperature_. _My men fall to the ground exhausted_. _Afatiguing day_. _Benighted in the forest_. _Spend the night in a hut_. _Strong drink as it affects the Chinese_. _Embarrassing attentions of akindly couple_. _New Year festivities at Kan-lan-chai_. _The ShweliRiver and watershed_. _Magnificent range of mountains_. _Arrival atTengyueh. _

No Chinese, I knew, lived in the Valley; but I had yet to learn that sosoon as the country drops to say less than 4, 000 feet the Chineseconsider it too unhealthy a spot for him to pass his days in. The reasonwhy Shans control the Valley is, therefore, not hard to find. 

And owing to the probability that what European travelers have writtenabout the unhealthiness of this Salwen Valley has been based oninformation obtained from Chinese, its bad name may be easily accountedfor. The next morning, as I descended, I saw much malarial mist rising;but, after having on a subsequent visit spent two days and two nights atthe lowest point, I am in a position to say that conditions have beenvery much exaggerated, and that places quite as unhealthy are to befound between Lu-chiang-pa (the town at the foot, by the bridge) and thelow-lying Shan States leading on to Burma. 

A good deal of the country to the north of the Yün-nan province, towardsthe Tibetan border, is so high-lying and so cold that the Yün-naneseChinese is afraid to live there; and the fact that in the Shan States, so low-lying and sultry, he is so readily liable to fever, prevents himfrom living there. These places, through reports coming from theChinese, are, as a matter of course, dubbed as unhealthy. The averageinhabitant--that is, Chinese--strikes a medium between 4, 000 feet and10, 000 feet to live in, and avoids going into lower country betweenMarch and November if he can. 

To pass the valley and go to Kan-lan-chi (4, 800 feet), passing thehighest point at nearly 9, 000 feet--140 li distant fromFang-ma-ch'ang--was our ambition for the day. 

Starting in the early morning, I had a pleasant walk over an even roadleading to a narrowing gorge, through which a heart-breaking road led tothe valley beyond. Two and a half hours it took me, in my foreign boots, to cover the twenty li. I fell five times over the smooth stones. Thecountry was bare, desolate, lonely--four people only were met over theentire distance. But in the dreaded Valley several trees were ablazewith blossom, and oranges shone like small balls of gold in the risingsun. Children playing in between the trees ran away and hid as they sawme, although I was fifty yards from them--they did not know what it was, and they had never seen one!

Farther down I caught up my men, Lao Chang and Shanks, and pleasantspeculations were entered into as to what Singai (Bhamo) was like. Theywere particularly interested in Singapore because I had lived there, andafter I had given them a general description of the place, and explainedhow the Chinese had gone ahead there, I pointed out as well as I couldwith my limited vocabulary that if the people of Yün-nan only had aconscience, and would only get out of the rut of the ages, they, too, might go ahead, explaining incidentally to them that as lights of thechurch at Tong-ch'uan-fu, it was their sacred duty to raise the standardof moral living among their countrymen wherever they might wander. Theirgeneral acquiescence was astounding, and in the next town, Lu-chiang-pa, these two men put their theory into practice and almostcaused a riot by offering 250 cash for a fowl for which the vendorblandly asked 1, 000. But they got the chicken--and at their own price, too. 

As I was thus gently in soliloquy, I first heard and then caught sightof the river below--the unnavigable Salwen, 2, 000 feet lower than eitherthe Mekong or the Shweli (which we were to cross two days later). It isa pity the Salwen was not preserved as the boundary between Burma andChina. 

Gradually, as we approached the steep stone steps leading down thereto, I saw one of the cleverest pieces of native engineering in Asia--thedouble suspension bridge which here spans the Salwen, the only one I hadseen in my trip across the Empire. The first span, some 240 feet by 36feet, reaches from the natural rock, down which a vertical path zigzagsto the foot, and the second span then runs over to the busy little townof Lu-chiang-pa. 

Here, then, were we in the most dreaded spot in Western China! If youstay a night in this Valley, rumor says, you go to bed for the lasttime; Chinese are afraid of it, Europeans dare not linger in it. Malariastalks abroad for her victims, and snatches everyone who dallies in hisjourney to the topside mountain village of Feng-shui-ling. The river is2, 000 feet above the sea; Feng-shui-ling is nearly 9, 000 feet. 

It was ten o'clock as I pulled over my stool and took tea in the crowdedshop at Lu-chiang-pa. I saw Shans here for the first time. 

The village now, however, is anything but a Shan village. Of the peoplein the immediate vicinity I counted only ten typical Shans, and of thecompany around me in this popular tea-house twenty-one out oftwenty-eight were Chinese, including ten Mohammedans. It was, however, easy to see that several of these were of Shan extraction, who, although they had features distinctly un-Chinese, had adopted theChinese language and custom. A party of Tibetans were here in the chargeof a Lama, in an inner court, and scampered off as I rose to snap theirphotographs. This was a very low altitude for Tibetans to reach. 

Whilst I sipped my tea the local horse dealer wanted so very much tosell me a pony cheap. He offered it for forty taels, I offered him five. It was gone in the back, was blind in the left eye, and was at leastseventeen years old. The man smiled as I refused to buy, and told methat my knowledge of horse-flesh was wonderful. 

The road then led up to a plain, where paths branched in many directionsto the hills. Men either going to the market or coming from it leaned ontheir loads to rest under enormous banyans and to watch me as I passed. Horses browsed on the hill-sides. One of my soldiers had laid inprovisions for the day, and ran along with his gun (muzzle forward) overone shoulder and four lengths of sugar-cane over the other. Ploughmenwith their buffaloes halted in the muddy fields to gaze admiringly uponme; women ran scared from the path when my pony let out at a casualpasser-by who tickled him with a thin bamboo. Maidenhair ferns grew ingreat profusion, showing that we were getting into warmer climate;streams rushed swiftly under the stone roadway from dyked-up dams tofacilitate the irrigation, at which the Chinese are such past-masters. All was smiling and warm and bright, dispelling in one's mind all senseof gloom, and breeding an optimistic outlook. 

We were now a party of nine--my own three men, an extra coolie I hadengaged to rush Tengyueh in three days from Yung-ch'ang, four soldiers, and the paymaster of the crowd. We still had ninety li to cover, so thatwhen we left the shade of two immense trees which sheltered me and myperspiring men, one of the soldiers agreed that everyone had to clearfrom our path. We brooked no interception until we reached the entranceto the climb, where I met two Europeans, of the Customs staff atTengyueh, who had come down here to camp out for the Chinese New YearHoliday. I knew that these men were not Englishmen. I was so thirsty, and the best they could do was to keep a man talking in the sun outsidetheir well-equipped tent. How I _could_ have done with a drink!

A tributary of the Salwen flows down the ravine. Too terrible a climb tothe top was it for me to take notes. I got too tired. Everything wasmagnificently green, and Nature's reproduction seemed to be going onwhilst one gazed upon her. But the natural glories of this beautifulgorge, with a dainty touch of the tropical mingling with the mightyaspect of jungle forest, with glistening cascades and rippling streams, where all was bountiful and exquisitely beautiful, failed to hold onespellbound. For since I had left Tali-fu I had rarely been out of sightof some of the best scenery on earth. Yet vegetation was very differentto that which we had been passing. There were now banyans, palms, plantains, and many ferns, trees and shrubs and other products of warmerclimates, which one found in Burma. What impressed me farther up was themarvelous growth of bamboos, some rising 120 feet and 130 feet at thebend, in their various tints of green looking like delicate feathersagainst the haze of the sky-line, upon which houses built of bamboo fromfloor to roof seemed temporarily perched whilst others seemed to betumbling down into the valley. This spot was the nearest approach toreal jungle I had seen in China; but Whilst we were climbing laboriouslythrough this densely-covered country, over opposite--it seemed no morethan a stone's throw--the hills were almost bare, save for the isolatedcultivation of the peasantry at the base. But then came a division, appearing suddenly to view farther along around a bend, and I saw acontinuation of the range, rising even higher, and with a tree growtheven more magnificent, denser and darker still. 

Here I came upon a party of soldiers with foreign military peak caps ontheir heads, which they wore outside over their Chinese caps. In fact, the only two other garments besides these Chinese caps were thedistinguishing marks of the military. Coats they had, but they had beendiscarded at the foot of the climb, rolled into one bundle, and tiedtogether with a piece of ribbon generally worn by the carrier to keephis trousers tight. We were now in summer heat, and this militaryquintet made a peculiar sight in dusty trousers, peak caps and strawsandals, with the perspiration streaming freely down their naked backsas they plodded upwards under a pitiless sun. Thus were they clad when Imet them; but catching sight of my distinguished person, mistaking mefor a "gwan, " they immediately made a rush for the man carrying thetunics, to clothe themselves for my presence with seemly respectability. But a word from my boy put their minds at rest (my own military were farin the rear). A couple of them then came forward to me sniggeringly, satisfied that they were not to be reported to Peking or wherever theircommander-in-chief may have his residence--they probably had no moreidea than I had. 

By the side of a roaring waterfall, in a spot which looked a veryfairyland in surroundings of reproductive green, we all sat down torest. The air was cool and the path was damp, and water tumblingeverywhere down from the rocks formed pretty cascades and rivulets. Weheard the clang of the hatchets, and soon came upon men felling timberand sawing up trees into coffin boards. We were in the Valley of theShadow, and it was the finest coffin center of the district. I took myboots off to wade through water which overran the pathway, and justbeyond my men, exhausted with their awful toil, lay flat on their backsto rest; they were dead beat. One pointed up to the perpendicular cliff, momentarily closed his eyes and looked at me in disgust. I gentlyremonstrated. It was not my country, I told him; it was the "Emperor's. "And after a time we reached the top. 

Shadows were lengthening. In the distance we saw the mountains uponwhich we had spent the previous night, whose tops were gilded by thesetting sun. Down below all was already dark. A cold wind blew the treesbending wearily towards the Valley. 

And still we plodded on. 

 * * * * *

We had come to Siao-p'ing-ho, 115 li instead of the 140 I had been ledto believe my men would cover. Every room in the hut was full, we weretold, but the next place (with some unpronounceable name), fifteen lifarther down, would give us good housing for the night. Lao Chang and Iresolved to go on, tired though we were. Before I resolved on this planI stopped to take a careful survey of the exact situation of thesheltering hollow in which we meant to pass the night. The sun was fastsinking; the dust of the road lay grey and thick about my feet; above methe heavens were reddening in sunset glory; the landscape had no touchof human life about it save our own two solitary figures; and the place, fifteen li away, lay before me as a dream of a good night rather than areality. 

Then on again we plodded, and yelled our intentions to the men behind. 

From the brow of the hill we descended with extreme rapidity--down, downinto a valley which sent up a damp, oppressive atmosphere. Through thetrees I could see one lovely ball of deep, rich red, painting the earthas it sank in a beauty exquisite beyond all else. Four men met us, stared suspiciously, thought we were deaf, and yelled that the place wastwenty li away, and that we had better return to the brow of the hill. But we left them, and went still farther down. In the hush thatprevailed I was unaccountably startled to see the form of a womangliding towards me in the twilight. She came out of the valley carryingfirewood. She spoke kindly to my man, and invited me to spend the nightin her house near by. 

I was for the moment vaguely awed by her very quiescence, and gazedwondering, doubting, bewildered. What was the little trick? Could I notfrom such things get free, even in Inland China? The red light of thesunken sun playing round her comely figure dazzled me, it is admitted, and I followed her with a sigh of mingled dread and desire for rest. Shall I say the shadow of the smile upon her lips deepened and softenedwith an infinite compassion?

Dogs rounded upon me as I entered the bamboo hut stuck on the side ofthe hill--they knew I had no right there. Inside a man was nursing asqualling baby; our escort was its mother, the man her husband. So I wassafe. The place was swept up, unnecessary gear was taken away, fire waskindled, tea was brewed, rice was prepared; and whilst in shaving (forwe were to reach Tengyueh on the morrow) I dodged here and there toescape the smoke and get the most light, giving my hospitable host agood deal of fun in so doing; every possible preparation was made for mycomfort and convenience by the untiring woman at whose invitation I wasthere. Their attentions embarrassed me; every movement, every look, every gesture, every wish was anticipated, so that I had no morediscomfort than a roaring wind and a low temperature about the regionwhich no one could help. It was bitterly cold. In front of the fire Isat in an overcoat among the crowd drinking tea, whilst the soldiersdrank wine--they bought five cash worth. Had my lamp oil run out, Ishould have bought liquor and tried to burn it instead. Soon the spiritbegan to talk, and these braves of the Chinese army got on terms offreest familiarity, telling me what an all-round excellent fellow I was, and how pleased they were that I had to suffer as well as they. But theynever forgot themselves, and I allowed them to wander on uncontradictedand unrestrained. After a weary night of tossing in my p'ukai, with aroaring gale blowing through the latticed bamboo, behind which I lay sopoorly sheltered, we started in good spirits. 

Twenty-five li farther we reached Kan-lan-chai (4, 800 feet), February9th, 1910, New Year's morning. Nothing could be bought. Everywhere thepeople said, "Puh mai, puh mai, " and although we had traveled thetwenty-five li over a terrible road, with a fearful gradient at the end, we could not get anyone to make tea for us. It is distinctly against theChinese custom to sell anything at New Year time, of course. We had toboil our own water and make our own tea. A larger crowd than usualgathered around me because of the general holiday; and as I write now Iam seated in my folding-chair with all the reprobates near to me--mengazing emptily, women who have rushed from their houses combing theirhair and nursing their babies, the beggars with their poles and bowls, numberless urchins, all open-mouthed and curious. These are kept fromcrowding over me by the two soldiers, who the day before had come onahead to book rooms in the place. I stayed at Kan-lan-chai on anotheroccasion. Then I found a good room, but later learned that it was ahorse inn, the yard of which was taken up by fifty-nine pack animalswith their loads. Pegs were as usual driven into the ground in parallelrows, a pair of ponies being tied to each--not by the head, but by thefeet, a nine-inch length of rope being attached to the off foreleg ofone and the near foreleg of the other, the animals facing each other inrows, and eating from a common supply in the center. Everyone in thesmall town was busy doing and driving, very anxious that I should bemade comfortable, which might have been the case but for some untiringmusician who was traveling with the caravan, and seemed to be one ofthat species of humankind who never sleeps. His notes, however, werefairly in harmony, but when it runs on to 3:00 a. M. , and one knows thathe has to be again on the move by five, even first-rate Chinese music isapt to be somewhat disturbing. 

From the Salwen-Shweli watershed I got a fine view of the mountains Ihad crossed yesterday. Some ten miles or so to the north was the highestpeak in the range--Kao-li-kung I think it is called--conical-shaped andclear against the sky, and some 13, 000 feet high, so far as I couldjudge. 

An easy stage brought me to Tengyueh. I stayed here a day only, Mr. Embery, of the China Inland Mission, a countryman of my own, kindlyputting me up. But Tengyueh, as one of the quartet of open ports in theprovince, is well known. It is only a small town, however, and one wassurprised to find it as conservative a town as could be found anywherein the province, despite the fact that foreigners have been here formany years, and at the present time there are no less than sevenEuropeans here. 

I was glad of a rest here. From Tali-fu had been most fatiguing. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LI-SU TRIBE OF THE SALWEN VALLEY

_Travel up the Salwen Valley_. _My motive for travelling and how Itravel_. _Valley not a death-trap_. _Meet the Li-su_. _Buddhisticbeliefs_. _Late Mr. G. Litton as a traveler_. _Resemblance in religionto Kachins_. _Ghost of ancestral spirits_. _Li-su graves_. _Descriptionof the people_. _Racial differences_. _John the Baptist's hardship_. _The cross-bow and author's previous experience_. _Plans for subsequenttravel fall through_. _Mission work among the Li-su_. 

On my return journey into Yün-nan, I stopped at Lu-chiang-pa, [BB] andleft my men at the inn there while I traveled for two days along theSalwen Valley. My journey was taken with no other motive than that ofseeing the country, and also to test the accuracy of the reportsrespecting the general unhealthy nature of this valley of the Shadow ofDeath. The people here were friendly, despite the fact that my route wasalways far away from the main road; and although my entire kit was asingle traveling-rug for the nights, I was able to get all I wanted. LaoChang accompanied me, and together we had an excellent time. 

I might as well say first of all that the idea of this part of theSalwen Valley being what people say it is in the matter of a death-trapis absolutely false. With the exception of the early morning mist commonin every low-lying region in hot countries, there was, so far as I couldsee, nothing to fear. 

During the second day, through beautiful country in beautiful weather, Icame across some people who I presumed were Li-su, and I regretted thatmy films had all been exposed. The Li-su tribe is undoubtedly anoffshoot from the people who inhabit south-eastern Tibet, although noneof them anywhere in Yün-nan--and they are found in many places incentral and eastern Yün-nan--bear any traces of Buddhistic belief, whichis universal, of course, in Tibet. The late Mr. G. Litton, who at thetime he was acting as British Consul at Tengyueh traveled somewhatextensively among them, says that their religious practices closelyresemble those of the Kachins, who believe in numerous "nats" or spiritswhich cause various calamities, such as failure of crops and physicalailments, unless propitiated in a suitable manner. According to him, themost important spirit is the ancestral ghost. Li-su graves are generallyin the fields near the villages, and over them is put the cross-bow, rice-bags and other articles used by the deceased. "It is probably fromfoundations such as these, " writes Mr. George Forrest, who accompaniedMr. Litton on an excursion to the Upper Salwen, and who wrote up thejourney after the death of his companion, "that the fabric of Chineseancestor worship was constructed, " a view which I doubt very muchindeed. 

I am of the opinion that the Li-su may be closely allied to the Lolo orthe Nou Su, of whom I have spoken in the chapters in Book I dealing withthe tribes around Chao-t'ong. And even the Miao bear a distinct racialresemblance. They are of bony physique, high cheek bones, and their skinis nearly of the same almost sepia color. The Li-su form practically thewhole of the population of the Upper Salwen Valley from about lat. 25°30' to 27° 30', and they have spread in considerable numbers along themountains between the Shweli and the Irawadi, and are found also in theShan States. Those on the Upper Salwen in the extreme north are uttersavages, but where they have become more or less civilized have shownthemselves to be an enterprising race in the way of emigration. Of thesavages, the villages are almost always at war with one another, andmany have never been farther from their huts than a day's march willtake them, the chief object of their lives being apparently to keeptheir neighbors at a distance. They are exceedingly lazy. They spendtheir lives doing as little in the way of work as they must, eating, drinking, squatting about round the hearth telling stories of theirvalor with the cross-bow, and their excitement is provided by anoccasional expedition to get wood for their cross-bows and poison fortheir arrows, or a stock of salt and wild honey. 

Mr. Forrest, in his paper which was read before the Royal GeographicalSociety in June, 1908, speaks of this wild honey as an agreeablesweetmeat as a change, but that after a few days' constant partaking ofit the European palate rejects it as nauseous and almost disgusting, andadds that it has escaped the Biblical commentators that one of theprincipal hardships which John the Baptist must have undergone was hisdiet of wild honey. In another part of his paper the writer says, speaking of the cross-bow to which I have referred: "Every Li-su withany pretensions to _chic_ possesses at least one of these weapons--onefor everyday use in hunting, the other for war. The children play withminiature cross-bows. The men never leave their huts for any purposewithout their cross-bows, when they go to sleep the 'na-kung' is hungover their heads, and when they die it is hung over their graves. Thelargest cross-bows have a span of fully five feet, and require a pull ofthirty-five pounds to string them. The bow is made of a species of wildmulberry, of great toughness and flexibility. The stock, some four feetlong in the war-bows, is usually of wild plum wood, the string is ofplaited hemp, and the trigger of bone. The arrow, of sixteen to eighteeninches, is of split bamboo, about four times the thickness of anordinary knitting needle, hardened and pointed. The actual point is barefor a quarter to one-third of an inch, then for fully an inch the arrowis stripped to half its thickness, and on this portion the poison isplaced. The poison used is invariably a decoction expressed from thetubers of a species of _aconitum_, which grows on those ranges at analtitude of 8, 000 to 10, 000 feet . . . The reduction in thickness of thearrow where the poison is placed causes the point to break off in thebody of anyone whom it strikes, and as each carries enough poison tokill a cart horse a wound is invariably fatal. Free and immediateincision is the usual remedy when wounded on a limb or fleshy part ofthe body. "[BC]

Some time after I was traveling in these regions I made arrangements tovisit the mission station of the China Inland Mission, some days fromYün-nan-fu, where a special work has recently been formed among theLi-su tribe. Owing to a later arrival at the capital than I hadexpected, however, I could not keep my appointment, and as there werereports of trouble in that area the British Consul-General did not wishme to travel off the main road. It is highly encouraging to learn that amagnificent missionary work is being done among the Li-su, all the moregratifying because of the enormous difficulties which have already beenovercome by the pioneering workers. At least one European, if not more, has mastered the language, and the China Inland Mission are expectinggreat things to eventuate. It is only by long and continued residenceamong these peoples, throwing in one's lot with them and living theirlife, that any absolutely reliable data regarding them will beforthcoming. And this so few, of course, are able to do. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote BB: The town by the double suspension bridge over the Salwen. ]

[Footnote BC: The poisoned arrows and the cross-bow are used also by theMiao, and the author has seen very much the same thing among the Sakaiof the Malay Peninsula. ]

FIFTH JOURNEY

TENGYUEH (MOMIEN) TO BHAMO IN UPPER BURMA

CHAPTER XXV. 

_Last stages of long journey_. _Characteristics of the country_. _Shamand Kachins_. _Author's dream of civilization_. _British pride_. _End ofpaved roads_. _Mountains cease_. _A confession of foiled plans_. _Nantien as a questionable fort_. _About the Shans_. _Village squabble, and how it ended_. _Absence of disagreement in Shan language_. _Charmingpeople, but lazy_. _Experience with Shan servant_. _At Chiu-Ch'eng_. _New Year festivities_. _After-dinner diversions_. _Author as a medico_. _Ingratitude of the Chinese: some instances_. 

The Shan, the Kachin and the abominable betel quid! That quid whichmakes the mouth look bloody, broadens the lips, lays bare and blackensthe teeth, and makes the women hideous. Such are the unfailingcharacteristics of the country upon which we are now entering. 

By the following stages I worked my way wearily to the end of my longwalking journey:--

 Length Height of Stage Above Sea

 1st day--Nantien 90 li. 5, 300 ft. 2nd day--Chiu-Ch'eng (Kang-gnai) 80 li. --- 4th day--Hsiao Singai 60 li. --- 5th day--Manyüen 60 li. 2, 750 ft. 6th day--Pa-chiao-chai | Approx. 1, 200 ft. 7th day--Mao-tsao-ti | 55 English 650 ft. 8th day--Bhamo (Singai) | miles. 350 ft. 

Shans here monopolize all things. Chinese, although of late years drawnto this low-lying area, do not abound in these parts, and the Shan istherefore left pretty much to himself. And the pleasant eight-day marchfrom Tengyueh to Bhamo, the metropolis of Upper Burma, probably offersto the traveler objects and scenes of more varying interest than anyother stage of the tramp from far-away Chung-king. To the Englishman, daily getting nearer to the end of his long, wearying walk, and goingfor the first time into Upper Burma, incidentally to realize again thedream of civilization and comfort and contact with his own kind, leavingOld China in the rear, there instinctively came that inexpressiblepatriotic pride every Britisher must feel when he emerges from theMiddle Kingdom and sets his foot again on British territory. Thebenefits are too numerous to cite; you must have come through China, andhave had for companionship only your own unsympathetic coolies, andaccommodation only such as the Chinese wayside hostelry has offered, tobe able fully to realize what the luxurious dâk-bungalows, with theirexcellent appointments, mean to the returning exile. 

Paved roads, the bane of man and beast, end a little out of Tengyueh. Mountains are left behind. There is no need now for struggle andconstant physical exertion in climbing to get over the country. With nohills to climb, no stones to cut my feet or slip upon, with wide sweepsof magnificent country leading three days later into dense, tropicaljungle, entrancing to the merest tyro of a nature student, and with theknowledge that my walking was almost at an end, all would have gone wellhad I been able to tear from my mind the fact that at this juncture Ishould have to make to the reader a great confession of foiled plans. For two days I was accompanied by the Rev. W. J. Embery, of the ChinaInland Mission, who was making an itinerary among the tribes on theopposite side of the Taping, which we followed most of the time. He rodea mule; and am I not justified in believing that you, too, reader, withsuch an excellent companion, one who had such a perfect command of thelanguage, and who could make the journey so much more interesting, youwould have ridden your pony? I rode mine! I abandoned pedestrianism androde to Chiu-Ch'eng--two full days, and when, after a pleasant restunder a sheltering banyan, we went our different ways, I was sorryindeed to have to fall back upon my men for companionship. 

But it was not to be for long. 

Nantien is, or was, to be a fort, but the little place bears no outwardmilitary evidences whatever which would lead one to believe it. It ispopulated chiefly by Shans. The bulk of these interesting people nowlive split up into a great number of semi-independent states, sometributary to Burma, some to China, and some to Siam; and yet theman-in-the-street knows little about them. One cannot mistake them, especially the women, with their peculiar Mongolian features and sallowcomplexions and characteristic head-dress. The men are lessdistinguishable, probably, generally speaking, but the rough cottonturban instead of the round cap with the knob on the top alone enablesone more readily to pick them out from the Chinese. Short, well-builtand strongly made, the women strike one particularly as being a hardy, healthy set of people. 

Shans are recognized to be a peaceful people, but a village squabbleoutside Chin-ch'eng, in which I took part, is one of the exceptions toprove the rule. 

It did not take the eye of a hawk or the ear of a pointer to recognizethat a big row was in full progress. Shan women roundly abused the men, and Shan men, standing afar off, abused their women. A few Chinese wholooked on had a few words to say to these "Pai Yi"[BD] on the futility ofthese everyday squabbles, whilst a few Shans, mistaking me again for aforeign official, came vigorously to me pouring out their souls over thewhole affair. We were all visibly at cross purposes. I chimed in with myinfallible "Puh tong, you stupid ass, puh tong" (I don't understand, Idon't understand); and what with the noise of the disputants, theChinese bystanders, my own men (they were all acutely disgusted withevery Shan in the district, and plainly showed it, because they couldnot be understood in speech) and myself all talking at once, and thedogs who mistook me for a beggar, and tried to get at close grips withme for being one of that fraternity, it was a veritable Bedlam and Towerof Babel in awfullest combination. At length I raised my hand, mounted aboulder in the middle of the road, and endeavored to pacify theinfuriated mob. I shouted harshly, I brandished by bamboo in the air, Igesticulated, I whacked two men who came near me. At last they stopped, expecting me to speak. Only a look of stupidest unintelligibility couldI return, however, and had to roar with laughter at the very foolishnessof my position up on that stone. Soon the multitude calmed down andlaughed, too. I yelled "Ts'eo, " and we proceeded, leaving the Shansagain at peace with all the world. 

Shans have been found in many other parts, even as far north as theborders of Tibet. But a Shan, owing to the similarity of his language inall parts of Asia, differs from the Chinese or the Yün-nan tribesman inthat he can get on anywhere. It is said that from the sources of theIrawadi down to the borders of Siamese territory, and from Assam toTonkin, a region measuring six hundred miles each way, and including thewhole of the former Nan-chao Empire, the language is practically thesame. Dialects exist as they do in every country in the world, but aShan born anywhere within these bounds will find himself able to carryon a conversation in parts of the country he has never heard of, hundreds of miles from his own home. And this is more than six hundredyears after the fall of the Nan-chao dynasty, and among Shans who havehad no real political or commercial relation with each other. [BE]

I found them a charming people, peaceful and obliging, treatingstrangers with kindness and frank cordiality. For the most part, theyare Buddhists. The dress of the Chinese Shans, which, however, I foundvaried in different localities, leads one to believe that they are anexceptionally clean race, but I can testify that this is not the case. In many ways they are dirtier than the Chinese--notably in thepreparation of their food. And I feel compelled to say a word here forthe general benefit of future travelers. _Never expect a Shan to workhard!_ He _can_ work hard, and he will--when he likes, but I do notbelieve that even the Malay, that Nature's gentleman of the farthersouth, is lazier. 

As servants they are failures. A European in this district, whoseChinese servant had left him, thought he would try a Shan, and invited aman to come. "Be your servant? Of course I will. I am honored. " And theEuropean thought at last he was in clover. He explained that he shouldwant his breakfast at 6:00 a. M. , and that the servant's duties would beto cut grass for the horse, go to the market to buy provisions, feed onthe premises, and leave for home to sleep at 7:00 p. M. The Shan opened alarge mouth; then he spoke. He would be pleased, he said, to come towork about nine o'clock; that he had several marriageable daughtersstill on his hands and could not therefore, and would not, cut grass; heobjected going to the market in the extreme heat of the day; he couldnot think of eating the foreigner's food; and would go home to feed at1:00 p. M. And leave again finally at 5:00 p. M. For the same purpose. Heleft before five p. M. Another man was called in. He was quite cheery, and came in and out and did what he pleased. On being asked what hewould require as salary, he replied, "Oh, give me a rupee every marketday, and that'll do me. " The person was not in service when market dayrolled round, and I hear that this European, who loves experiments ofthis kind, has gone back to the Chinese. 

Chiu-Ch'eng (Kang-gnai) was going through a sort of New Year carousal asI entered the town, and everybody was garmented for the festival. 

I had great difficulty in getting a place to stay. People allowed me tocareer about in search of a room, treating me with courteousindifference, but none offered to house me. At last the headman of thevillage appeared, and with many kindly expressions of unintelligibilityled me to his house. A crowd had gathered in the street, and severalwomen were taking from the front room the general stock-in-trade of thevillage ironmonger. Scores of huge iron cooking pans were being passedthrough the window, tables were pushed noisily through the doorway, primitive cooking appliances were being hurled about in the air, bamboobaskets came out by the dozen, and there was much else. Bags of paddy, old chairs (the low stool of the Shan, with a thirty-inch back), drawersof copper cash, brooms, a few old spears, pots of pork fat, barrels ofwine (the same as I had blistered the foot of a pony with), two or threeold p'u-kai, worn-out clothes, disused ladies' shoes, babies' gear, andlast of all the man himself appeared. Men and women set to to clean up, an old woman clasped me to her bosom, and I was bidden to enter. NewYear festivities were for the nonce neglected for the novel delight ofgazing upon the inner domesticity of this traveling wonder, into hisvery holy of holies. I received nine invitations to dinner. I dined withmine host and his six sons. 

Through the heavy evening murk a dull clangor stirred the air--thetolling of shrill bells and the beating of dull gongs, and all thehideous paraphernalia of Eastern celebrations. The populace--Shan almostto a man--were bent on seeing me, a task rendered difficult by thegathering darkness of night. Soldiers guarded the way, and there wereseveral broken heads. They came, stared and wondered, and then passedaway for others to come in shoals, laughingly, and seeming no longer toharbor the hostile feelings apparent as I entered the town. 

My shaving magnifier amused them wonderfully. 

There was an outcry as I entered the room after we had dined, followedby a scream of women in almost hysterical laughter. When they caughtsight of me, however, a brief pause ensued, and the solemn hush, thateven in a callous crowd invariably attends the actual presence of along-awaited personage, reigned unbroken for a while; then one spoke, then another ventured to address me, and the spell of silence gave wayto noise and general excitability, and the people began speedily toclose upon me, anxious to get a glimpse of such a peculiar white man. Later on, when the shutters were up and the public thus kept off, thefamily foregathered unasked into my room, bringing with them their owntea and nuts, and laying themselves out to be entertained. My wholegear, now reduced to most meager proportions, was scrutinized by all. There were four men and five women, the usual offshoots, and the agedcouple who held proprietary rights over the place. They sat on my bed, on my boxes; one of the children sat on my knee, and the ladies, seemingly of the easiest virtue, overhauled my bedclothes unblushingly. The murmuring noise of the vast expectant New Year multitude died offgradually, like the retreating surge of a distant sea, and the hotmotionless atmosphere in my room, with eleven people stepping on oneanother's toes in the cramped area, became more and more weightilyintensified. The husband of one of the women--a miserable, emaciatedspecimen for a Shan--came forward, asking whether I could cure hisdisease. I fear he will never be cured. His arm and one side of his bodywas one mass of sores. Before it could be seen four layers of Chinesepaper had to be removed, one huge plantain leaf, and a thick layer ofblack stuff resembling tar. I was busy for some thirty minutes dressingit with new bandages. I then gave him ointment for subsequent dressings, whereupon he put on his coat and walked out of the room (leaving thedoor open as he went) without even a word of gratitude. 

The Chinese pride themselves upon their gratitude. It is vigoroustowards the dead and perhaps towards the emperor (although this may bedoubted), but as a grace of daily life it is almost absent. I have knowncases where missionaries have got up in the middle of the night toattend to poisoning cases and accidents requiring urgent treatment, haveknown them to attend to people at great distances from their own homesand make them better; but never a word of thanks--not even the merepittance charged for the actual cost of medicine. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote BD: The Chinese name for the Shan. ]

[Footnote BE: Vide _Yün-nan, the Link between India and the Yangtze, _ byMajor H. R. Davies. --Cambridge University Press. ]

CHAPTER XXVI. 

_Two days from Burma_. _Tropical wildness induces ennui_. _The RiverTaping_. _At Hsiao Singai_. _Possibility of West China as a holidayresort from Burma_. _Fascination of the country_. _Manyüen reached withdifficulty_. _The Kachins_. _Good work of the American Baptist Mission_. _Mr. Roberts_. _Arrival at borderland of Burma_. _Last dealings withChinese officials_. _British territory_. _Thoughts on the trend ofprogress in China_. _Beautiful Burma_. _End of long journey. _

I was now two days' march from the British Burma border. The landscapein this district was solemn and imposing as I trudged on again, verytired indeed, after a day's rest at Chiu-ch'eng. In the morning heavytropical vapors of milky whiteness stretched over the sky and the earth. Nature seemed sleeping, as if wrapped in a light veil. It attracted meand absorbed me, dreaming, in spite of myself; ennui invaded me atfirst, and under the all-powerful constraint of influences so fatal tohuman personality thought died away by degrees like a flame in a vacuum;for I was again in the East, the real, luxurious, indolent East, thetrue land of Pantheism, and one must go there to realize the indefinablesensations which almost make the Nirvana of the Buddhist comprehensible. 

The river Taping farther down, so different from its aspect a couple ofdays ago, where it rushed at a tremendous speed over its rocky bed, wasnow broad and calm and placid, and extremely picturesque. The banks werecovered with trees beyond Manyüen. Near the water the undergrowth was ofa fine green, but on a higher level the yellow and red leaves, hardlyholding on to the withered trees, were carried away with the slightestbreath of wind. 

At Hsiao Singai, on February 15th, I again had difficulty in getting aroom; so I waited, and whilst my men searched about for a place where Icould sleep, an extremely tall fellow came up to me, and having feltwith his finger and thumb the texture of my tweeds and expressedsatisfaction thereof, said--

"Come, elder brother, I have my dwelling in this hostelry, and my upperchamber is at your disposal. " And then he added with a twinkle in hiseye, "Ko nien, ko nien, "[BF] whereat I became wary. 

Lao Chang, however, was more cute. Whilst I was assuring thiswell-dressed holiday-maker that he must not think the stranger churlishin not accepting at once the proffered services, but that I would go tolook at the room, he sprang past us and went on ahead. In a few momentsI was slowly going hence with the multitude. Lao Chang nodded carelesslyto the strange company there assembled, and passing through the roomwith a soft, cat-like tread, began to ascend a dark flight of narrowstairs leading to the second floor of the inn. And I, down belowstartled and bewildered by mysterious words from everyone, watched hisblue garments vanishing upwards, and like a man driven by irresistiblenecessity, muttered incoherent excuses to my amazed companions, and in ablind, unreasoning, unconquerable impulse rushed after him. But I wish Ihad not. There were several ladies, who, all more or less _endéshabille_, scampered around with their bundles of gear--sewing, babies' clothes, tin pots, hair ornaments, boxes of powder and scentedsoap of that finest quality imported from Burma, selling for less thanyou can buy the genuine article for in London!--and then we tookpossession. 

If once there is a railway to Tengyueh from Burma, a visit to WestChina, even on to Tali-fu, for those who are prepared to rough it alittle, will become quite a common trip. A few days up the Irawadi toBhamo, through scenery of a peculiar kind of beauty eclipsed on noneother of the world's great rivers, would be succeeded by a day or twoover some of the best country which Upper Burma anywhere affords, andthen, when once past Tengyueh, the grandeur of the mountains is amplycompensating to those who love Nature in her beautiful isolation andpeace. From a recuperating standpoint, perhaps, it would not quiteanswer--the rains would be a drawback to road travel, and it would atbest mean roughing it; but for the many in Burma who wish to take aholiday and have not the time to go to Europe, I see no reason whyTengyueh should not develop into what Darjeeling is to Calcutta and whatJapan is to the British ports farther East. Expense would not be heavy. To Bhamo would be easy. As things now stand, with no railway, one wouldneed to take a few provisions and cooking utensils, and a camp bed andtent, unless one would be prepared to do as the author did, andpatronize Chinese inns, such as they are. The rest would be easy to geton the road. For three days from Bhamo dâk bungalows are available, andto a man knowing the country it would be an easy matter to arrange hiscomforts. To one who knows the conditions, there is in the trip a gooddeal to fascinate; for in the lives and customs of the people, in thenature of the country, in the free-and-easy life the traveler wouldhimself develop--having a peep at things as they were back in theancient days of the Bible--to the brain-fagged professional orcommercial there is nothing better in the whole of the East. 

He would get some excellent shooting, especially in the Salwen Valley, not exactly a health resort, however; and had he inclinations towardsbotanical, ethnological, craniological, or philological studies, hewould be at a loss to find anywhere in the world a more interestingarea. 

But a man should never leave the "ta lu" (the main road) in China if hewould experience the minimum of discomfort and annoyance, which underbest conditions is considerable to an irritable man. As I sit down now, on the very spot where Margary, of the British Consulate Service wasmurdered in 1875, I regret that I have sacrificed a great deal to securemost of the photographs which decorate this section of my book. No one, not even my military escort, knows the way, and is being sworn at by mymen therefor. How I am to reach Man Hsien, across the river at Taping, Ido not quite know. Manyüen, so interesting in history, is a nativeShan-Kachino-Chinese town untouched by the years--slovenly, dirty, undisciplined, immoral, where law and order and civilization have gainedat best but a precarious foothold, the most characteristic feature ofthe people being the gambler's instinct. But I remember that I am cominginto Burma, into the real East, where the tangle and the topsy-turvydom, the crooked vision and the distorted travesty of the truth, which resultfrom judging the Oriental from the standpoint of the Europeans andlooking at the East through the eyes of the West, impress themselvesupon one's mind in bewildering fashion as a hopeless problem. Everythingis all at cross purposes. 

However, although I lost my way from Manyüen to Man Hsien, I got myphotographs of Kachins, those people whose appearance is that they haveno one to care for them body or soul. Their thick, uncombed locks, solong and lank as to resemble deck swabs, overlapped roofwise the ugliestaboriginal faces I ever saw in Asia or America, and their eyes undershaggy brows looked out with diabolical fire. 

So much information is to be obtained from the