rs
 
 A WAYFARER IN CHINA
 
 THE LITTLE " FU T*OU " (CARAVAN HEADMAN)
 
 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OF A TRIP 
 ACROSS WEST CHINA AND MONGOLIA 
 
 BY ELIZABETH KENDALL 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 (Cfte Rtoetfibe press Cambridge
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY ELIZABETH KENDALL 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published February 1913
 
 TO 
 
 THE HAPPY MEMORY OF MY MOTHER 
 
 THE ONE WHO 
 ALWAYS UNDERSTOOD
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A WORD of explanation may help to an under- 
 standing of this record of a brief journey in 
 China, in 1911, in the last quiet months before the 
 revolution. 
 
 No one who has ever known the joy of hunting 
 impressions of strange peoples and strange lands 
 in the out-of-the-way corners of the world can ever 
 feel quite free again, for he hears always a compel- 
 ling voice that " calls him night and day " to go forth 
 on the chase once more. Years ago, for a beginning, 
 I pursued impressions and experiences in the Far 
 West on the frontier, there was a frontier then. 
 And since that time, whenever chance has offered, 
 that has been my holiday pastime, among the Ken- 
 tucky mountains, in the Taurus, in Montenegro, in 
 India. Everywhere there is interest, for everywhere 
 there is human nature, but whoever has once come 
 under the spell of the Orient knows that henceforth 
 there is no choice ; footloose, he must always turn 
 eastwards. 
 
 But really to see the East one must shun the half- 
 Europeanized town and the treaty port, must leave 
 behind the comforts of hotel and railway, and be ready 
 to accept the rough and the smooth of unbeaten
 
 viii PREFACE 
 
 trails. But the compensations are many : changing 
 scenes, long days out of doors, freedom from the 
 bondage of conventional life, and above all, the fas- 
 cination of living among peoples of primitive sim- 
 plicity and yet of a civilization so ancient that it 
 makes all that is oldest in the West seem raw and 
 crude and unfinished. So when two years ago my 
 feet sought again the " open road," it was towards 
 the East that I naturally turned, and this time it was 
 China that called me. I did not go in pursuit of any 
 information in particular, but just to get for myself 
 an impression of the country and the people. My 
 idea of the Chinese had been derived, like that of 
 most Americans, from books and chance observation 
 of the handful of Kwangtung men who are earning 
 their living among us by washing our clothes. Silent, 
 inscrutable, they flit through the American scene, 
 alien to the last. What lies behind the riddle of their 
 impassive faces? Perhaps I could find an answer. 
 Then, too, it was clear, even to the most unintelli- 
 gent, that a change was coming over the East, though 
 few realized how speedily. I longed to see the old 
 China before I made ready to welcome the new. But 
 not the China of the coast, for there the West had 
 already left its stamp. So I turned to the interior, to the 
 western provinces of Yunnan andSzechuan. Wonder- 
 ful for scenery, important in commerce and politics, 
 still unspoiled, there I could find what I wanted.
 
 PREFACE ix 
 
 Of course I was told not to do it, it would not be 
 safe, but that is what one is always told. A long, sol- 
 itary summer spent a few years ago among the Him- 
 alayas of Western Tibet, in Ladakh and Baltistan, 
 gave me heart to face such discouragement, and 
 I found, as I had found before, that those who knew 
 the country best were most ready to speed me on- 
 ward. And as the following pages show, there was 
 nothing to fear. I had no difficulties, no adventures, 
 hardly enough to make the tale interesting. 
 
 It is true, I had some special advantages. I was 
 an American and a woman, and no longer young. 
 Chinese respect for grey hair is a very real thing ; a 
 woman is not feared as a man may be, and hostility 
 is often nothing more than fear ; and even in remote 
 Szechuan I met men who knew that the American 
 Government had returned the Boxer indemnity, and 
 who looked kindly upon me for that reason. If the 
 word of certain foreigners is to be trusted, I gained 
 in not knowing the language ; the people would not 
 take advantage of my helplessness. That seems 
 rather incredible; if it is true, the whole Western 
 world has something to learn of China. 
 
 But I could not have done what I did without the 
 wise and generous aid of many whom I met along 
 the way, Europeans and Chinese, officials, mer- 
 chants, and above all missionaries, everywhere the 
 pioneers. To them all I tender here my grateful
 
 x PREFACE 
 
 thanks. And to the representatives of the Hong Kong 
 and Shanghai Bank wherever I met them, and also 
 to those of the Russo-Asiatic Bank I would express 
 my gratitude for many courtesies shown me. 
 
 As I look back I know it was worth while, all of 
 it. Half a dozen months count for little toward the 
 real understanding of a strange civilization, but it is 
 something to have seen a great people in its home, 
 to have watched it at work and at play, for you have 
 been forced once again to realize that although 
 " East is East and West is West," the thing that most 
 matters is the nature of the man, and that everywhere 
 human nature is much the same. 
 
 THE ORCHARD, 
 
 WELLESLEY, MASSACHUSETTS, 
 November, 1912.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. ACROSS TONKING 3 
 
 II. DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 24 
 
 III. ACROSS YUNNAN 41 
 
 IV. THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 71 
 
 V. ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 101 
 
 VI. TACHIENLU 123 
 
 VII. THE LESSER TRAIL 139 
 
 VIII. ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN . . . .161 
 
 IX. OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 180 
 
 X. DOWN THE YANGTSE 202 
 
 XI. FROM THE GREAT RIVER TO THE GREAT WALL 221 
 XII. THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND .... 236 
 
 XIII. ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI . . . .256 
 
 XIV. URGA, THE SACRED CITY . . . .276 
 XV. NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY . . . 289 
 
 XVI. A FEW FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA . .308 
 INDEX 323
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE LITTLE "Fu T'OU" (CARAVAN HEADMAN) (p. 6) Frontispiece 
 
 MAP OF CHINESE EMPIRE 3 
 
 A YUNNAN VALLEY 22 
 
 OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF YUNNAN-FU 22 
 
 MY SEDAN CHAIR AND BEARERS 32 
 
 A MEMORIAL ARCH NEAR YUNNAN-FU 32 
 
 MAP OF WEST CHINA 42 
 
 ON A YUNNAN ROAD : MY CARAVAN THE MILITARY ESCORT 44 
 WU-TING-CHOU : TEMPLE GATEWAY TEMPLE CORNER . . 60 
 
 LOLO GIRLS 80 
 
 "TAME, WILD" LOLOS 80 
 
 A MEMORIAL ARCH. SZECHUAN 92 
 
 FORTIFIED VILLAGE IN THE CHIEN-CH'ANG VALLEY . .92 
 
 " MERCURY," MY FLEET COOLIE 106 
 
 CARRIER COOLIES 106 
 
 A GROUP OF SZECHUAN FARMHOUSES 114 
 
 A VIEW OF TACHIENLU 124 
 
 TIBETANS 124 
 
 LAMA AND DOG AT TACHIENLU 134 
 
 THE GATE OF TIBET 134 
 
 A WAYSIDE REST-HOUSE 144 
 
 A FORTIFIED POST 144
 
 xiv ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 A ROADSIDE TEA-HOUSE 152 
 
 TEA COOLIE CROSSING A SUSPENSION BRIDGE ... 152 
 
 A FARMHOUSE IN CHENGTU PLAIN 162 
 
 MEMORIAL ARCH TO A "VIRTUOUS WIDOW," CHENGTU PLAIN 168 
 
 THE " REJECTION OF THE BODY " (CLIFF A MILE HIGH), MOUNT 
 OMEI, WEST SZECHUAN 196 
 
 IN THE YANGTSE GORGES 218 
 
 TARTAR WALL, PEKING 230 
 
 CARAVAN OUTSIDE THE TARTAR WALL 230 
 
 A POOR MONGOL FAMILY AND YURT 248 
 
 JACK AND HIS LAMA FRIEND 258 
 
 MY CARAVAN ACROSS MONGOLIA 258 
 
 HORSEMEN OF THE DESERT, NORTH MONGOLIA . . .268 
 
 A LAMA BOUND FOR URGA 278 
 
 A MONGOL BELLE, URGA 278 
 
 MY MONGOL HOSTESS 284 
 
 THE MONGOL HOUSE WHERE I STAYED IN URGA . . .284 
 LAMA AND HIS "WIFE" 300 
 
 My thanks are due to Robert J. Davidson, Esq., of Chengtu, Szechuan, for kind 
 permission to use the photograph of the Yangtse Gorges. Also to Messrs. Under- 
 wood & Underwood, of New York, for the photographs of the Tartar Wall, Peking. 
 With these exceptions the illustrations are from photographs made by myself on 
 the journey. I should like to express here my appreciation of the care and skill 
 shown by the staff of the Kodak Agency, Regent Street, West, in handling films 
 often used under very unfavourable conditions. 
 
 E. K.
 
 SUGGESTIONS FOR PRONOUNCING 
 CHINESE NAMES IN THE TEXT 
 
 IN general vowels are pronounced as in Italian. 
 
 a preceded by w and followed by ng is like a in fall. 
 
 u like the French u. 
 
 ai like i in mine. 
 
 ao like ou in proud. 
 
 ei like ey in they. 
 
 ie like e-e in re-enter. 
 
 ui with vowels distinct. 
 
 o with vowels distinct and stress on o. 
 
 Of the consonants, ch, k, p, t, ts are softer than in Eng- 
 lish, approaching respectively j, g, b, d, dz. 
 hs is approximately sh (hsien = she-en) . 
 
 MONEY, WEIGHTS AND MEASURES 
 
 Tael, roughly two-thirds of a dollar gold. 
 Dollar or dollar Mex., about fifty cents gold. 
 Cash, about the twentieth part of a cent gold. 
 Li, a scant third of an English mile. 
 Catty, about one and one-third pounds avoirdupois.
 
 A WAYFARER IN CHINA
 
 For the wander-thirst is on me 
 And my soul is in Cathay.
 
 N:,:;-""!-",. ,^ <H 
 
 K.i-t li HI IV. .in (iri'i-i
 
 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ACROSS TONKING 
 
 THREE years ago West China seemed at the 
 back of beyond. To make your way in you had 
 either to traverse the length of Upper Burma and then 
 cross the great rivers and ranges of western Yunnan, 
 a weary month-long journey, or else spend tedious 
 weeks ascending the Yangtse, the monotony of 
 the trip tempered by occasional shipwreck. To-day, 
 thanks to French enterprise, you can slip in between 
 mountain and river and find yourself at Yunnan-fu, 
 the provincial capital, after a railway journey of only 
 three days and a half from Haiphong, the port of 
 Tonking. 
 
 When first planning a visit to West China, I set 
 my heart on going in from the west, for I had long 
 wished to see the wild, picturesque country that lies 
 between the Burmese frontier and the Yangtse. Years 
 before, I had looked across the border and promised 
 myself that some day I would find out what lay on 
 the other side. But when the time came the difficulty
 
 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 of securing a Chinese interpreter in Burma forced me 
 to go to Hong Kong, and once there, lack of time 
 made it necessary that I should choose the shortest 
 route into West China, and that was by way of Hai- 
 phong and the Red River railway. After all, there 
 were compensations. Even a fleeting vision from the 
 windows of a railway carriage gives some idea of 
 what the French are doing in their great Eastern 
 colony. Moreover, there could be no better starting- 
 point for such a trip as I had before me than the free 
 port of Hong Kong, and the comfort of arranging 
 an outfit in a place where East and West meet un- 
 trammelled by custom-houses is not to be despised. 
 As a rule it is a mistake to bring an elaborate outfit 
 from home. Generally each place has worked out 
 just the devices that best serve its particular needs, 
 and much of Western travelling equipment does not 
 fit in with the conditions of Eastern life. Shoes and 
 saddles the traveller from the West wisely brings with 
 him, and of course all scientific apparatus is best pro- 
 vided in Europe. But in the main I found all that I 
 needed, whether of Eastern or Western manufacture, 
 in Hong Kong, and at surprisingly low prices. In- 
 terpreter and cook I had secured from Shanghai. The 
 former, a Kiangsi man, was the product of mission 
 schools and a year in an American Western college. 
 He spoke English fairly well, and was sufficiently at 
 home in the various forms of Mandarin to get on in
 
 ACROSS TONKING 5 
 
 Yunnan and Szechuan. The cook had come down the 
 " Great River " from Chung-king with an English 
 family returning home, and was glad to work his way 
 back, even though by a round-about route. Although 
 he spoke no English, he understood European ways 
 and was quick to comprehend my wishes. And he 
 proved a faithful, hard-working fellow, and a very 
 passable cook. 
 
 By the end of March my preparations were com- 
 plete. The boat for Haiphong was to leave at nine 
 o'clock on the morning of the 29th, and the evening 
 before two sampans took me and my kit, together 
 with the interpreter and the cook, out to where she 
 lay at her moorings. My belongings looked rather 
 formidable as they lay heaped up on the deck of the 
 Sikiang, of the Est Asiatique Frangais line, but, after 
 all, there was only a moderate supply of stores, such 
 as tea, jam, biscuit, sugar, cereals, tinned meats and 
 tinned milk, together with a few enamelled iron dishes 
 and the cook's stew-pans, all packed in wooden 
 boxes. The bedding-roll and clothing were put in 
 camp-bags of waterproof canvas, while the necessary 
 maps and cameras and films were carried in suit-cases 
 for safe-keeping. An English cross saddle brought 
 from Shanghai proved more satisfactory for the small 
 Yunnan ponies than would have been the Mexican 
 saddle which I had tried in vain to secure. Acting on 
 a timely word of warning I bought in Hong Kong a
 
 6 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 most comfortable sedan-chair, a well-made bamboo 
 affair fitted with a top and adjustable screens and 
 curtains to keep out either rain or sun. I had been 
 told that I should have no use for a tent, but that a 
 camp-bed was a necessity, and so it proved. The bed 
 I took with me was of American manufacture ; com- 
 pact and light, and fitted with a mosquito frame, it 
 served me throughout all my journeyings and was 
 finally left in Urga in North Mongolia, on the chance 
 that it might serve another traveller a good turn. An 
 important part of my outfit, a small Irish terrier, 
 arrived from Japan the next morning, when I had 
 about given him up. He was dropped into my wait- 
 ing sampan as his ship, homeward bound to Calcutta 
 from Kobe, came into her moorings, and we climbed 
 up the side of the Sikiang not fifteen minutes before 
 she was off. All 's well that ends well. We were safe 
 on board, and I had secured a gay little comrade 
 in my solitary journeying, while before Jack lay a 
 glorious run of two thousand odd miles. 
 
 The mail boat to Haiphong, due to make the trip 
 in fifty-three hours, had once been a royal Portuguese 
 yacht, but the only remaining traces of her former 
 glory were the royal monogram, "M.R.P.," conspic- 
 uous in glass and woodwork, and her long, graceful 
 lines, charming to look at, but not well fitted to con- 
 tend with the cross-currents of the China Sea. As the 
 only lady passenger I had very comfortable quarters,
 
 ACROSS TONKING 7 
 
 and the kindest attention from French officers and 
 Annamese stewards. The second afternoon there 
 came a welcome diversion when the boat put into 
 Kwang-chou-wan, two hundred miles southwest of 
 Hong Kong, to visit the new free port of Fort Bayard, 
 the commercial and military station which the French 
 are creating in the cession they secured from China 
 in 1898, and which, if all goes well, is some day to 
 rival Hong Kong. The Bay of Kwang-chou is very 
 fine, affording a safe harbour to the two or three 
 ships that were riding at anchor, or to two or three 
 navies if need came, but Fort Bayard displays as 
 yet few signs of the prophesied greatness. To while 
 away the hours of waiting I went on shore and wan- 
 dered about the empty, grass-grown roads of the tiny 
 settlement. To the right as one walked up from the 
 beach stretched a long line of substantial-looking 
 barracks, and many of the houses were of European 
 appearance, attractively set in large gardens. Above 
 the whole towered a rather pretentious two-spired 
 church. The one native and business street running 
 parallel with the beach showed little life ; people did 
 not wake up even at the coming of the fortnightly 
 mail from Hong Kong, and the native population 
 seemed no more than sufficient to serve the needs of 
 the foreign element. 
 
 We were joined here by two or three French offi- 
 cials attended by an escort of Annamese policemen
 
 8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 These latter had a decidedly ladylike, genteel air with 
 their hair smoothly brushed and twisted in a low knot 
 at the back of the neck, the whole bound round with 
 a black kerchief laid in neat folds. Their uniform was 
 of dark blue woollen set off by putties of a lighter blue, 
 and their appearance was decidedly shipshape. I 
 talked with one of the Frenchmen returning from an 
 official visit to Fort Bayard. He seemed to have little 
 faith in the new settlement, declaring the Government 
 had poured in money like water, and with no ade- 
 quate return. 
 
 It is more than a century since France began to 
 interest herself in this part of the world, dreaming 
 dreams of an Eastern empire to offset the one she had 
 just lost in America. Then came the French Revolu- 
 tion, and the dream went the way of many more 
 substantial things, and it was not until the days of 
 the Second Empire that Napoleon III, looking east 
 and west, again took up the question. Little by little 
 the French strengthened their hold upon the Indo- 
 China peninsula, and the final contest came in the 
 eighties, a part of the universal game of grab then 
 going on in Africa and Asia. Although China gave 
 up her claim to the territory a quarter of a century 
 ago, it took many years longer to pacify the country, 
 and there is still something to be done. The cost in 
 men and money has been very great, and at one 
 time the whole policy of colonial expansion became
 
 ACROSS TONKING 9 
 
 so unpopular that it spelled political ruin to the man 
 most identified with it, Jules Ferry, "Thornine de 
 Tonking." 
 
 The real history of Tonking dates from the admin- 
 istration of M. Doumer, Governor-General of Indo- 
 China from 1897 to 1902. During these five years the 
 Parisian printer, turned Radical politician and admin- 
 istrator, showed what one able and determined man 
 could do. When he arrived in the East, piracy and 
 brigandage were rife, there was an annual deficit of 
 some three million francs, and the feeble administra- 
 tion had done nothing to develop the possibilities of 
 the country. When he left, the colony was upon its 
 feet, lawlessness had been suppressed, the administra- 
 tion reformed, and the deficit turned into a substan- 
 tial surplus. He had built towns and telegraphs, en- 
 couraged the native industries of rice planting and 
 silk culture, and by offering special inducements to 
 French enterprise had developed tea, coffee, and rub- 
 ber growing. 
 
 Nor did the energetic imperialist stop here. Believ- 
 ing that " a nation to be great should be always striv- 
 ing to be greater," he began to develop a vigorous 
 forward policy which seemed to have as its goal no- 
 thing less than the control of Yunnan and Southeast 
 China. Colonial expansion was necessary to the con- 
 tinued existence of France, he declared. In his last 
 report, looking back to the achievements of a past
 
 io A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 generation, he concluded, "We are the same men, 
 but we no longer believe in ourselves. We act as if 
 we were a vanquished people, and in any case we ap- 
 pear so to the world. This is the result of our policy 
 of effacement for which must be substituted at all 
 costs a policy of action which will permit us to hold 
 our rank." 
 
 It is true the forward policy did not originate with ' 
 M. Doumer, for the value of Tonking as the key to 
 China had been recognized by French statesmen be- 
 fore ever he put foot in the colony, but it was his task 
 to make that policy something more than a pious as- 
 piration. Not only did he set about making the French 
 possessions the needed commercial and industrial base 
 for such an undertaking, but he also initiated the next 
 move in the game, the development of railway sys- 
 tems which would bring French traders, and if need 
 be French soldiers, into the heart of the coveted ter- 
 ritory. He worked out all the plans, urged them upon 
 the Government, and did more than any other man 
 to secure the necessary support of the French finan- 
 ciers ; to-day railways linked up with Hanoi and Hai- 
 phong have crossed the Chinese frontier at two points, 
 Dong Dang and Ho-k'ou. 
 
 The colony, to call it by its correct name, of Kwang- 
 chou held an important place in M. Doumer's scheme, 
 and he predicted for it a " brilliant future as a port of 
 commerce." Like the rest of his party he regretted
 
 ACROSS TONKING n 
 
 the mistaken moderation of the Government in not 
 acquiring at the same time a lease of the island of 
 Hainan. Something is being done now to repair this 
 unfortunate error by industriously developing French 
 hold upon that territory, and the big consulate and 
 the French post-office and hospital at Hoi-hou, the 
 chief port, are significant of future hopes, even if 
 not justified by present conditions. 
 
 The following noon, after we left Kwang-chou, we 
 were approaching Haiphong through muddy red 
 channels between the low-lying meadow lands which 
 here border the river Cua-Cam, on the right bank of 
 which lies the chief commercial centre of Tonking. 
 But its days as a shipping port are said to be num- 
 bered, because of the difficult approach. Much money 
 has been spent in efforts to improve the waterway, 
 but with no satisfactory results, and now it is proposed 
 to create a new port in the beautiful Baie d' Along, a 
 little farther east. There was some doubt in my mind 
 as to the reception awaiting us. We had been told 
 that the customs inspection was severe, and we had 
 many packages ; no Chinese would be admitted with- 
 out passports, and I had neglected to provide any for 
 my men; there was a strict muzzling law on, and Jack 
 had not even a collar. But the graceful courtesy of 
 the French officials smoothed away every difficulty. 
 We were bowed out of the custom-house with our 
 packages unopened. At the police headquarters,
 
 12 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 where I at once reported myself with my Chinese men, 
 we were met by one of my fellow passengers from 
 Kwang-chou who had hurried ahead to explain the 
 situation, and thanks to his efforts the lack of pass- 
 ports was kindly overlooked. As for Jack, he was 
 quickly furnished with all the equipment of the civil- 
 ized dog muzzle, collar, chain at one of the large 
 outfitting-shops, of which there seemed quite enough 
 for the needs of the place. 
 
 Haiphong is an attractive town of some twenty 
 thousand inhabitants, of whom perhaps one thousand 
 are Europeans. It is planned with an eye to the fu- 
 ture, like all French colonial centres, with broad 
 streets and imposing public buildings. But a deep 
 calm brooded over everything; there was no bustle 
 in the thoroughfares, and the shops seemed unvisited, 
 nor did their proprietors show interest in attracting 
 custom. In one of the largest I offered a piastre, fifty 
 cents gold, in payment for a few picture post-cards, 
 but they could not change the coin, and seemed dis- 
 inclined to make the effort to do it, so I went without 
 my cards. The Annamese, who form the bulk of the 
 population, are attractive in appearance, finer in feat- 
 ure and gentler in manner than the Chinese. Save for 
 a serious cast of face, they are much like the Bur- 
 mese. Their dress is quieter in tone than that of either 
 their Burmese cousins or their Chinese neighbours, 
 and is severely utilitarian in cut, differing little for
 
 ACROSS TONKING 13 
 
 men or women. The working dress of Haiphong was 
 full, long, square-cut trousers over which fell a sort of 
 prolonged shirt slashed to the waist. When at work 
 the front panel was tucked up out of the way. All 
 alike wore huge straw hats tied under the chin. 
 
 But I saw little of Haiphong, as I left the same 
 evening, and even less of Hanoi, the capital, where 
 we arrived at half-past ten, starting off again before 
 eight o'clock the next morning. I was sorry not to 
 see more of the latter place, for it is one of the finest 
 cities in the Far East. But I carried away a vision of 
 a good hotel, an imposing capitol, and a pretentious 
 station, all set on wide streets lined with European- 
 looking houses surrounded by real green grass lawns. 
 A twenty-minute run in a rickshaw soon after dawn 
 showed fine chaussees leading out into the country 
 and filled, even at this early hour, with crowds of 
 country-folk bringing their produce to market. I be- 
 lieve there are over one hundred miles of metalled 
 roads in the capital and the suburbs, all due to un- 
 tiring M. Doumer. But his most enduring monument 
 in Hanoi is the fine exposition buildings. When he 
 went home to raise a second loan of two hundred 
 million francs for the development of the colony, the 
 men to whom he appealed naturally asked what 
 were the resources of the country. His convincing 
 reply was the famous exposition of 1902. 
 
 There is one through train daily each way between
 
 I 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Haiphong and Yunnan-fu. The distance is about six 
 hundred miles, and it took three days and an evening 
 to make the trip. There is no traffic by night, and 
 this seems to be the rule on these adventurous rail- 
 ways, for I met the same thing on the Anatolian and 
 Bagdad lines between Constantinople and Eregli. 
 The corridor trains are equipped with four classes. 
 The first was inferior to the same class on Continen- 
 tal lines, but that seemed to matter little, for it was 
 usually empty. As a gay young Englishman in Yun- 
 nan-fu remarked, no one went first-class unless he was 
 travelling at some one's else expense. The second 
 and third class were very good of their kind, and the 
 fourth was far and away the most comfortable ar- 
 rangement of the sort I had ever seen, with benches 
 along the sides and large unglazed window openings. 
 Most of the passengers and all the jollity went in this 
 class. Everywhere there were other than human trav- 
 ellers ; birds, dogs, goats, and pigs were given room, 
 always on condition of having a ticket. I paid four 
 dollars gold for my dog's ticket from Haiphong to 
 Yunnan-fu, but having paid, Jack's right in the car- 
 riage was as unquestioned as mine, and I found this 
 true in all my railway travel in China. 
 
 The Tonking- Yunnan railway is a remarkable un- 
 dertaking, and shows the seriousness with which the 
 French are attacking the problems of Far Eastern 
 colonization. The lower half of the line, which here
 
 ACROSS TONKING 15 
 
 follows up the Red River valley, presented few seri- 
 ous engineering difficulties, although calling for at 
 least one hundred and seventy-five bridges on the 
 section south of Lao-kai, but it was almost impossible 
 to secure labourers for the construction work. Anna- 
 mese refused to lend a hand, and the Chinese died 
 like flies from the malarial conditions. For a time 
 work was at a standstill, and in the end it had to be 
 suspended during the summer months. The upper 
 part, on the other hand, especially that section which 
 runs through the Namti valley, tested to the utmost 
 the skill of the French engineers. And the cost was 
 correspondingly great. Even as it is, much of the em- 
 banking seems to be of a rather slight character, and 
 quite unfit to stand the tremendous tropical down- 
 pours of the early summer months. After leaving 
 China I learned that I had passed over the line just 
 in time, for the rains set in very early in the summer 
 of 1911, and for weeks traffic was fearfully interrupted 
 by landslips and broken bridges. 
 
 Whether the line will prove a financial success de- 
 pends on some things not wholly under control. The 
 present customs regulations certainly tend to check 
 the development of trade in Tonking, and the trans- 
 portation rates are perhaps more than traffic can bear. 
 The French, however, can change their policy in these 
 respects if they think best. But the proposed con- 
 struction by the Chinese Government of a railway
 
 16 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 connecting Yunnan-fu and the West River valley 
 would cut the ground out from under their feet. For 
 the moment, the Revolution has stopped the enter- 
 prise, but it is certain to be taken up again, as there 
 are no insuperable engineering obstacles in the way, 
 and every economic and political reason for giving 
 Yunnan an outlet to the sea through Chinese territory. 
 
 On leaving Hanoi in the early morning light we 
 struck across a wide fertile plain, beautifully cultivated; 
 fields of rice alternating with maize stretched away 
 to a wall of feathery bamboo broken by stately palms 
 and glossy mangoes. After a little the country be- 
 came more broken, rolling near by, mountainous in 
 the distance. The vegetation, dense and tropical, 
 hemmed in the line on both sides, but here and there 
 charming trails led away through the jungle to vil- 
 lages on higher land; a delightful region to pass 
 through, perhaps to live in if one were a duck, but 
 for human beings the steamy heat must be very de- 
 pressing. At Yun Bay the valley narrowed, and we 
 drew nearer the mountains, but there was no change 
 in the atmosphere, and had not the sky been cloudy, 
 we should have suffered greatly from the heat 
 
 My fellow travellers were chiefly officials of the 
 civil administration or connected with the railway, 
 who chatted or slept or quietly drank away the weary 
 hours ; for them there was no novelty in the trip to 
 dull the feeling of discomfort. At one small station a
 
 ACROSS TONKING 17 
 
 man who might have been a planter got in, followed 
 by an attractive-looking Annamese woman carrying 
 a little child. She cried bitterly as she waved good- 
 bye to a group of natives on the station platform. 
 The man seemed well known on the line, and was 
 soon the centre of a group of his fellows who paid no 
 attention to the woman. After a while the trio went 
 to sleep, the man on the carriage bench, the woman 
 and child on the floor. She was what is euphemisti- 
 cally called a "cook " in Tonking ; just another name 
 for an arrangement so often resulting from the lonely 
 life of Europeans among a slack-fibred dependent 
 alien population. It is the same thing that confronts 
 the stray visitor to the isolated tea plantations of 
 the Assam hills, where young English lads are set 
 down by themselves, perhaps a day's journey from 
 the next European. What wonder that they find it 
 difficult to hold fast to the standards and principles 
 of the home that seems so far away, or that if they 
 once ignore their inherited traditions, no matter in 
 how slight a thing, there seems to be no natural stop- 
 ping-place short of the abyss. As once said to me an 
 aged American missionary, who perhaps had never 
 worn an evening coat a dozen times in his life, " A 
 nice young fellow, clean in body and soul, comes out 
 from England, and finds himself shut up for the year 
 on one of these plantations, no one of his kind within 
 reach. He means well, but the test is too great. First
 
 i8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 he stops dressing for dinner. What 's the use ? Then 
 he gets careless about his manners. And the end of 
 it all is black-and-tan babies in the compound." Here 
 in Tonking the woman is perhaps as well off as in 
 her native hut until the planter goes home or brings 
 out a European wife, but in some way or another 
 there is usually an untoward ending. As for the chil- 
 dren, they go to swell the class that is neither here 
 nor there, and their lot is probably happier than that 
 of the unfortunate Eurasians of India, since race pre- 
 judice is far less strong among the French than with 
 the Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 At Lao-kai on the Tonking frontier I stopped over 
 for a day's rest, having learned that it boasted a com- 
 fortable European inn. The little town is built on the 
 opposite high banks of the Red River near its junc- 
 tion with the Namti. Just across the latter stream 
 lie China and the Chinese town of Ho-k'ou. There is 
 a distinct European aspect to Lao-kai, and as a fron- 
 tier post it has a good-sized garrison of the Annamese 
 Tirailleurs and the French Foreign Legion. The lat- 
 ter did not look as black as they are painted, and it 
 was hard to realize that behind their friendly, courte- 
 ous bearing were ruined careers ; but the contrast of 
 their sturdy forms and weather-beaten faces with the 
 slender figures and delicate features of the Tirailleurs 
 was very striking. I did not wonder that the French 
 soldiers have dubbed their Annamese companions-in-
 
 ACROSS TONKING 19 
 
 arms the " Young Ladies." The inn, which was most 
 efficiently managed by two Frenchwomen, served as 
 a sort of club for the Europeans of both Lao-kai and 
 Ho-k'ou, and incidentally also for innumerable dogs 
 and cats. At dinner each person was the centre of an 
 expectant group of the four-footed habitues of the inn, 
 and no one seemed to object. Just another instance 
 of the liking of the most civilized peoples of the West 
 and the East, English, French, and Chinese, for pet 
 animals. 
 
 A small church on the right bank of the river 
 showed white among the bamboos, and in the early 
 evening the bells rang with a homelike sound. Cross- 
 ing by the ferry I found the place empty save for 
 two Annamese soldiers kneeling quietly and rever- 
 ently. In going back and forth on the ferry-boat as I 
 did several times, I had a chance to observe the 
 people. As in the case of the Burmans the difference 
 between men and women is not marked ; indeed, 
 among the younger ones it is often difficult to tell 
 them apart. The great palm-leaf hat generally worn 
 took me back to hot Sunday afternoons in an old 
 church in the Berkshire hills of Massachusetts, when 
 my restless little mind busied itself with wondering 
 what palm leaves looked like when they were not fans. 
 I now had a chance to see, for I was in the land of 
 palms, and the church-going fans of my childhood 
 seemed to have transformed themselves into a uni-
 
 20 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 versal headgear. In shape the Annamese hat resem- 
 bles a tea-tray with edges three inches deep, and of 
 the size of a bicycle wheel. In addition to the band 
 passing under the chin a small crown fits the head 
 snugly, and helps to keep the huge thing in place. 
 Primarily it is a head-covering, a protection against 
 sun or rain, but incidentally it serves as a windbreak, 
 a basket-cover, a tray, or a cradle. Often French 
 soldiers crossed with me, and I noticed that they usu- 
 ally spoke Annamese fluently, unlike Tommy Atkins 
 in India, who rarely knows a word of the vernacular ; 
 also they seemed to be on a friendly, not to say fam- 
 iliar footing with the natives. 
 
 After a comfortable week-end's rest, I left Lao-kai in 
 the early morning, helped on my journey by those 
 courtesies that so often in strange lands convince one 
 that " less than kin more than kind " quite understates 
 the truth. An Italian on his way down the river wired 
 the landlord of the best inn in Yunnan-fu of my com- 
 ing, that I might be properly met. That I had already 
 done so myself did not at all take from his kind 
 thoughtfulness. Still another Italian of the Chinese 
 customs service joined me as we left Lao-kai, having 
 come over from Ho-k'ou to escort me across the fron- 
 tier, that I might have no bother with my luggage. 
 Yet another of these kind strangers wired ahead to 
 warn the solitary American on the line of my com- 
 ing, thus giving the two compatriots a chance to ex-
 
 ACROSS TONKING 21 
 
 change a few words at the station as the train went 
 through. 
 
 On leaving Lao-kai our way led up the valley of 
 the Namti, a small mountain river coming in from the 
 east. The scenery was now much wilder, and as we 
 rose to higher levels the vegetation changed, the path- 
 less jungle which comes up to the very doors of Lao-kai 
 gave way to sparsely covered grass slopes, and they 
 in turn to barren, rocky walls. It was here that the 
 French engineers encountered their most difficult pro- 
 blems. We wound up the narrow valley in splendid 
 loops and curves, turning upon our tracks, running 
 through numerous tunnels, and at one time crossing 
 a chasm so narrow and with sides so steep and pre- 
 cipitous that it was found necessary to build the bridge 
 in two parts, each against the face of the cliff, and 
 then gradually lower them until they met above the 
 river, three hundred and fifty feet below. Finally by 
 an almost intolerable gradient we topped the divide 
 and found ourselves overlooking a wonderful, well- 
 watered plain five thousand feet above the sea, and 
 cultivated as far as the vision could carry with the 
 care and precision of a market-garden. 
 
 That night I spent at A-Mi-chou in a semi-Chinese 
 inn. The cooking was good, and, thanks to the 
 thoughtfulness of a railway official who wired ahead, 
 I had one of the two good rooms of the house, the 
 others being given over to rats. This was truly China,
 
 22 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and the European railway with its Frenchified trains 
 and stations seemed indeed an invasion, a world 
 apart. The French officials apparently shared this 
 feeling, and had a nice way of regarding themselves 
 as your hosts and protectors. 
 
 All the next day we were crossing the great plateau 
 of Yunnan, now climbing a pass in the mountain- 
 ranges that tower above the level, now making our 
 way up a narrow rocky valley, the gray limestone 
 cliffs gay with bright blue flowers and pink blossom- 
 ing shrubs. Just what they were I could not tell as 
 the train rolled by. Mostly the road led through long 
 stretches of tiny garden-like fields, broken here and 
 there by prosperous looking villages half concealed 
 in bamboo groves. The scenery was very fine and 
 varied ; above, the rocky hills, below, the green val- 
 leys. The mingling, too, of tropical and temperate 
 vegetation was striking. We were in latitude 24 and 
 25, about the same as Calcutta, but at an elevation 
 of nearly seven thousand feet, and the combination 
 seemed to work confusion among the growing things, 
 for rice and wheat were found not far apart, and here 
 at last Heine's palm and pine had come together. 
 
 Late on the second afternoon after leaving Lao-kai 
 we were approaching Yunnan-fu. Seen across the 
 plain, the capital of the province looked very imposing 
 as it lay stretched along a low ridge running east and 
 west. Rice-fields interspersed with ruins, sad re-
 
 ACROSS TONKING 23 
 
 minders of the terrible Mohammedan rebellion of a 
 generation ago, crowd up to the very walls on the 
 near side of the town. Outside the South Gate is 
 the station, and not far distant the Chinese house 
 which an enterprising French couple had turned into 
 a very comfortable inn, where I stayed the three 
 days needed for arranging my caravan and seeing 
 the sights of the place.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 
 
 THE situation of Yunnan's capital is extraordi- 
 narily picturesque. It stands in a wide plain, 
 its northern wall running along a low rocky ridge 
 from which there is a charming view over city and 
 lake to the great mountains that skirt the plain on all 
 sides. Lying at an elevation of nearly seven thousand 
 feet, it is blessed with a white man's climate. Eighty- 
 five degrees in the shade marks the highest sum- 
 mer temperature, and the winters are just pleasantly 
 bracing. Europeans who have experienced the biting 
 winds of Peking, the damp heat of Canton, or the 
 gray skies of Chengtu find in the bright days and 
 cool breezes of Yunnan some mitigation of their exile 
 to this remote corner of the empire. The city itself is 
 not very attractive in spite of its many trees, for it 
 seems a network of narrow lanes, only broken here 
 and there by a temple enclosure or a stretch of waste 
 land, the whole shut in by sound thirty-foot high 
 walls ; nor are there any sights of special interest, with 
 the exception of a rather fine Confucian temple. But 
 the country roundabout affords many charming ex- 
 cursions. The waters of the lake, some twenty-three
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 25 
 
 miles in length, once perhaps washed the west wall, 
 but it is gradually silting up, and to-day it is five 
 miles away and is reached by heavy sampans which 
 ply the narrow canals that intersect the rice-fields. 
 Farm buildings, tea-houses, and temples buried in 
 groves of bamboo are dotted over the plain, which is 
 crossed at intervals by high, stone-paved dykes lined 
 with trees. The rich cultivation of the lowland is in 
 sharp contrast with the surrounding hills, bare and 
 barren save where the presence of a temple has pre- 
 served the forest. 
 
 Yunnan-fu, with a population of some eighty 
 thousand, seems a fairly prosperous town. Copper is 
 found on the neighbouring hills, and the metal-work 
 of the place is famous, although by law all copper 
 mined must be sent to Peking. But the importance 
 of the city depends mainly upon its trade. It is the 
 centre of a large though rather scantily populated 
 district abounding in the great staples, rice, beans, 
 and millet, as well as in fruit and vegetables. Form- 
 erly Yunnan stood in the forefront of opium-produc- 
 ing provinces, but when I was there not a poppy-field 
 was to be seen. The last viceroy, the much respected 
 Hsi Liang, the one Mongol in the Chinese service, 
 himself not an opium smoker, had shown great 
 determination in carrying out the imperial edicts 
 against its use or production, and rather unwillingly 
 Yunnan was brought into line with the new order.
 
 26 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Under his successor, Li Ching Hsi, a man known to 
 be given over to the use of the drug, unwilling con- 
 verts hoped for better days, only to be disappointed. 
 After a more or less serious effort to reform, he an- 
 nounced that he was too old to change, but the pro- 
 vince had a long life before it, and must obey the 
 law. So he made amends for his own short-comings 
 by enforcing the restrictions almost as vigorously as 
 his predecessor had done. What was true at that 
 time in Yunnan was also the case in Szechuan. 
 Although always on the watch for the poppy, nowhere 
 did I see it cultivated. Probably in remote valleys off 
 the regular trails a stray field might now and then 
 have been found, innocently or intentionally over- 
 looked by the inspector, but in the main poppy-grow- 
 ing had really been stamped out ; and this where a 
 generation ago that careful observer, Baber, estimated 
 that poppy-fields constituted a third of the whole 
 cultivation. Credit where credit is due. Manchu rule 
 may have been weak and corrupt, but at least in re- 
 spect of one great popular vice it achieved more than 
 any Western power ever thought of attempting. 
 Certainly not last among the causes for its overthrow 
 was the discontent aroused by its anti-opium policy. 
 And now it is reported that individualism run mad 
 among the revolutionary leaders has led to a slack- 
 ening in the enforcement of the rules, and the revival 
 of poppy cultivation.
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 27 
 
 For half a century Yunnan has known little peace. 
 Twenty years long 1 the terrible Mohammedan rebel- 
 lion raged, and the unhappy province was swept from 
 end to end with fire and sword. Marks of the devas- 
 tation of that time are everywhere visible. Hardly 
 had it been put down when the war with the French 
 in the eighties" again involved Yunnan. Later came 
 the outbreak of the tribesmen, while the Boxer move- 
 ment of the north found a vigorous response here. 
 Bloodshed and disorder have given the country a 
 set-back from which it is only beginning to recover. 
 
 But the coming of the railway has brought fresh 
 life to Yunnan, and the prospects for the future eco- 
 nomic development are very promising. In the capital 
 there were many signs of a new day. The Reform 
 movement had taken good hold in this remote corner 
 of the empire. A hospital with eight wards and under 
 Chinese control was doing fine work. Schools were 
 flourishing, and there was even a university of sorts. 
 The newly organized police force pervaded the whole 
 place and was reputed quite efficient. But it was the 
 new military spirit that most forced itself upon you ; 
 you simply could not get away from it. Bugle prac- 
 tice made hideous night and day. Everywhere you 
 met marching soldiers, and the great drill ground was 
 the most active place in the town. Dread of the for- 
 eigner underlies much of the present activity and 
 openmindedness towards Western ideas. The will-
 
 28 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 ingness to adopt our ways does not necessarily mean 
 that the Chinese prefer them to their own, but simply 
 that they realize if they would meet us on equal terms 
 they must meet us with our own weapons. Writing 
 of the Boxer rising, Sir Charles Eliot summed up the 
 Chinese position in a sentence, " Let us learn their 
 tricks before we make an end of them." Now it might 
 read, " Let us learn their tricks before they make an 
 end of us." The drilling soldiers, the modern bar- 
 racks, the elaborately equipped arsenals, as well as 
 the military schools found all over China to-day, 
 show which one of the Western " tricks " seems to 
 the man of the Middle Kingdom of most immediate 
 value. At the military school of Yunnan-fu they have 
 a graphic way of enforcing the lesson to be learned. 
 A short time ago the students gave a public dramatic 
 performance, a sort of thing for which the Chinese 
 have decided talent. One of the scenes showed an 
 Englishman kicking his Hindu servant, while another 
 represented an Annamese undergoing a beating at 
 the hands of a Frenchman. The teaching was plain. 
 " This will be your fate unless you are strong to re- 
 sist." The English and French consuls protested 
 formally, and the proper apologies were made, but 
 no one believes that the lesson was forgotten. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that the people of 
 Yunnan are alive to the danger of foreign interfer- 
 ence, for they see the British on the west and much
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 29 
 
 more the French on the south, peering with greedy 
 eyes and clutching hands over the border. In the 
 last fifteen years commissions of the one and the 
 other have scoured the province with scarcely so 
 much as " by your leave," investigating the mineral 
 resources and planning out practicable railway routes. 
 Within the capital city the French seem entrenched. 
 A French post-office, a French hospital, French shops, 
 hotels, missions, and above all the huge consulate, 
 are there like advance posts of a greater invasion. 
 There is an ominous look to these pretentious estab- 
 lishments holding strategic points in this or that de- 
 batable territory. Take the French consulates, here in 
 Yunnan-fu and in Hoi-hou, or the Russian in Urga, 
 the North Mongolian capital, they have more the aspect 
 of a fortified outpost in a hostile country than the resi- 
 dence of the peaceful representative of a friendly power. 
 And Yunnan is beginning to move. For some time 
 past the Government has been considering seriously 
 the project of a railway across the province on the east 
 to the Si Kiang and Canton, and just before I arrived 
 in Yunnan-fu two engineers (significantly enough 
 Americans) started northwards to make the prelimi- 
 nary surveys for a line connecting the capital with 
 the Yangtse. If these two schemes can be carried 
 through under Chinese control, good-by to the hopes 
 of the French. Just at the time that I was in Yunnan 
 there was much excitement over the Pien-ma matter,
 
 30 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 a boundary question between the province and 
 Burma. A boycott of British goods had been started 
 which would have been more effective if there had 
 been more goods to boycott, but it indicated the feel- 
 ing of the people, and the viceroy, Li Ching Hsi, was 
 winning golden opinions for the stand he took in the 
 matter, which, however, did not save him from igno- 
 minious deportation by the Revolutionary party only 
 a few months later. 
 
 But whatever the feeling towards foreigners in the 
 mass, the individual foreigner seemed to meet with 
 no unfriendliness on the part of the people in Yunnan- 
 fu, and apparently official relations were on a cordial 
 footing. I found the Bureau of Foreign Affairs ready 
 to do all it could to smooth my way across Yunnan, 
 but perhaps that was due in part to the fact that the 
 chief of the bureau had been for several years consul 
 in New York. By arrangement I called one afternoon, 
 in company with a missionary lady, upon his wife. 
 Threading our way through narrow, winding streets, 
 our chairs turned in at an inconspicuous doorway and 
 we found ourselves in a large compound, containing 
 not so much one house as a number of houses set 
 down among gay gardens. The building in which we 
 were received consisted apparently of two rooms, an 
 anteroom and a reception room. The latter was fur- 
 nished in the usual style (invariable, it seems to me, 
 from country inn to prince's palace), heavy high
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 31 
 
 chairs, heavy high tables ranged against walls deco- 
 rated with kakemonos and gay mottoes ; only in the 
 centre of the room was a large table covered with a 
 cloth of European manufacture on which were set out 
 dishes of English biscuits and sweets. Our hostess, 
 dressed in a modified Chinese costume, received us 
 with graceful dignity. Her fine-featured face bore a 
 marked likeness to many that one meets on the street 
 or in the church of an old New England town, and 
 its rather anxious expression somewhat emphasized 
 the resemblance. She spoke with much pleasure of 
 the years she had spent in America, and her daugh- 
 ter, who had been educated in a well-known private 
 school in New York, looked back longingly to those 
 days, complaining that there was no society in Yun- 
 nan-fu ; but she brightened up at a reference to the 
 arrival of a new and young English vice-consul, hop- 
 ing that it might mean some tennis. It was an unex- 
 pected touch of New China in this out-of-the-way 
 corner. Before we left, two younger children were 
 brought in, both born in America, and one bearing 
 the name " Daisy," the other " Lincoln," but already 
 they were forgetting their English. 
 
 During my three days in Yunnan-fu, 1 through the 
 
 1 The words "fu" and "chou" and "hsien," attached to so 
 many Chinese place-names, are terms denoting administrative divi- 
 sions. "Fu" maybe translated prefecture, "chou," department, 
 and " hsien," a district. The towns having these terminations are 
 the headquarters of the respective divisions.
 
 32 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 kindness of the British Consul-General I was given 
 a chance to make one or two excursions into the sur- 
 rounding country. An especially charming trip that 
 we took one afternoon was to Chin Tien, or " Golden 
 Temple," a celebrated copper temple about five miles 
 out. Near the town our chairs were borne along the 
 narrow earth balk between the bean- and rice-fields, 
 but farther on our way led over the top of a high dyke 
 lined with trees. We mounted by a charming wind- 
 ing road to the temple, set high on the hillside among 
 its own groves of conifers, the courts of the temple, 
 which rose one behind the other, being connected by 
 long, steep flights of steps. In the upper court we 
 were met by the friendly priests, the quiet dignity of 
 their reception being somewhat disturbed by the din 
 of the temple dogs, goaded almost to madness at 
 Jack's imperturbable bearing. Chinese temples rarely 
 offer much of interest ; the construction is usually sim- 
 ple and their treasures are few, but everything is freely 
 shown, there are no dark corners, and the spacious 
 courts gay with flowers are full of charm. The sacred 
 images which they contain are generally grotesque 
 or hideous. Not often does one show a trace of the 
 gracious serenity that marks the traditional represen- 
 tations of Buddha ; on the other hand, they are never 
 indecent. 
 
 While I was seeing a little of Yunnan-fu and its 
 people, the preparations for my overland trip were
 
 MY SEDAN CHAIR AND BEARERS 
 
 A MEMORIAL ARCH NEAR YUNNAN-FU
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 33 
 
 moving forward, thanks chiefly to the kind helpful- 
 ness of Mr. Stevenson, of the China Inland Mission. 
 For many years a resident of the province, and wise 
 in the ways of the country and of the country-folk, 
 his advice served me at every turn. Engaging the 
 coolies was of course the matter of chief importance. 
 On them would depend the success of the first stage 
 of my journey, the two and a half or three weeks' 
 trip to Ning-yiian-fu in the Chien-ch'ang valley. A 
 representative of the coolie "hong," or guild, a dig- 
 nified, substantial-looking man, was brought to the 
 inn by Mr. Stevenson. After looking over my kit 
 carefully (even the dog was " hefted " on the chance 
 he might have to ride at times), he decided the num- 
 ber of coolies necessary. As I wished to travel fast if 
 need came, I threw in another man that the loads 
 might be light. The average load is seventy or eighty 
 catties, a catty equalling about one pound and a quar- 
 ter. In Yunnan the coolies generally carry on the 
 shoulder, the burden, fairly divided, being suspended 
 from the two ends of a bamboo pole. For myself I 
 had four men, as I had a four-bearer chair, the grand- 
 est of all things on the road save the mandarin's 
 chair with its curved poles raising the occupant high 
 above the common herd. At first I did not realize the 
 significance of the number, although I marked the 
 interest with which my interpreter inquired how many 
 bearers I should have. What I did appreciate was
 
 34 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 the extreme comfort of my travelling arrangements. 
 Seated in my chair, which was open above and en- 
 closed below, and furnished with a water-proof top 
 and with curtains that could be lowered to protect 
 me against sun or rain, wind or importunate curi- 
 osity, I felt as though on a throne. Under the seat 
 was a compartment just large enough for dressing- 
 bag, camera, and thermos bottle, while at my feet 
 there was ample room for Jack. For my interpreter 
 there was a two-bearer chair, with which he was vastly 
 discontented, and I, too, had my doubts about it, al- 
 though our reasons were not the same. He felt it be- 
 neath his dignity to travel with two bearers only ; I 
 feared that it was too great a burden for two men, 
 even though the chair was light and the Chinese lit- 
 eratus, small-boned and lacking in muscle, is no heavy 
 burden. Anyway, the arrangement did not work well, 
 and at Ning-yiian-fu the interpreter was provided 
 with a closed chair and three bearers, to his own sat- 
 isfaction and to mine also, again for different reasons. 
 A sedan-chair is too luxurious to be long endurable, 
 so I added a pony to our caravan, purchased, from a 
 home-going Dane of the customs service, for forty- 
 four dollars Mexican. The Yunnanese ponies are 
 small and sturdy, and as active as cats. They are all 
 warranted to kick, and mine was no exception. Al- 
 though he was described as a gentleman's steed, he 
 had the manners of a pack-horse. I doubt if any one
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 35 
 
 of our party escaped the touch of his hoofs, and it 
 was a joy to see him exchange salutations with the 
 ponies we met on the trail. However, he was sure- 
 footed and willing, and although hardly up to so long 
 a trip as mine, yet with care he came out very well 
 at the end. But it required constant watchfulness to 
 make sure that he was properly watered and fed, even 
 though most of the time I took along a coolie for no 
 other purpose save to look after the horse, and lead 
 him when I was not riding. And to the very last it 
 meant an order each time to insure that the girths 
 were loosened and the stirrups tied up when I was 
 out of the saddle. When we started from Yunnan-fu 
 our caravan was made up of thirteen coolies, six 
 chair-men, six baggage-carriers, and a " fu t'ou," or 
 head coolie, whose duty it was to keep the others up 
 to their work, to settle disputes, or to meet any diffi- 
 culty that arose. In short, he was responsible both to 
 me and to the hong for the carrying-out of the con- 
 tract which had been duly agreed upon. In my lim- 
 ited experience, the fu t'ou is a great blessing. I 
 found mine capable, reliable men, adroit in smooth- 
 ing away difficulties and very ready to meet my 
 wishes. As for the contract, that was a serious mat- 
 ter. Each detail was carefully entered in a formidable 
 document, the route, the stages, the number of men, 
 the amount to be paid, and the how and where of 
 payment. The hong had one copy and I another
 
 36 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 which was handed over to the fu t'ou at the end of 
 the trip, that he might show it to the chief of the hong 
 as proof that he had carried out the contract Each 
 coolie was to receive $7.00 Mexican, or about $3.50 
 gold, for his journey from Yunnan-fu to Ning-yuan-fu, 
 reckoned usually as sixteen stages. About one third 
 the amount was to be paid before starting, the re- 
 mainder in specified sums at stated intervals en 
 route. I had no concern with the men's daily food, 
 but from time to time I was expected to give them 
 " pork money " if they behaved well. It would have 
 been cheaper, I believe, to have hired coolies off the 
 street, but far less satisfactory, for the hong holds 
 itself responsible to you for the behavior of its men. 
 And in their turn the coolies pay a definite percent- 
 age of their earnings to the hong. 
 
 My stores and bedding and other things were 
 packed in large covered baskets insecurely fastened 
 with padlocks. As time went on, covers became 
 loose and padlocks were knocked off by projecting 
 rocks, but nothing was ever lost or stolen. To keep 
 out wet or vermin I had the baskets lined with 
 Chinese oiled cotton, perishable but cheap, and ef- 
 fective as long as it lasts. Other sheets of the same 
 material were provided for use in the inn. One was 
 laid on the floor and my camp-bed set up in the 
 middle of it, while others were spread over the 
 wooden Chinese beds with which the room was gen-
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 37 
 
 erally well supplied, and on them my clothes, saddle, 
 etc., were placed. When new the oiled cotton has a 
 strong, pungent odour, not pleasant but very effective 
 against vermin. 
 
 A most important item was the money to be used 
 on the journey. I had an account with the Hong 
 Kong and Shanghai Bank at Shanghai, and wher- 
 ever there were Europeans it was possible to get 
 checks cashed, but from Yunnan-fu to Ning-yuan, a 
 journey of two and a half weeks or more, I should 
 be quite off the track of foreigners. Fortunately Yun- 
 nan is waking up in money matters as well as in 
 other ways, and has a silver coinage of its own ; 
 moreover, one that the inhabitants are willing to ac- 
 cept, which is not always the case, as I found later to 
 my cost. With the help of native bankers I was duly 
 furnished with a supply of Yunnan dollars, akin to 
 Mexican dollars in value, and I obtained also some 
 Szechuan coins to use when I entered that province. 
 In addition I became the proud possessor of some 
 seventy dollars in Hupeh money. This I was told 
 would pass anywhere after crossing the Yangtse. 
 When I reached Ning-yuan-fu, however, I found that 
 no one would take it save at a heavy discount. Un- 
 willing to burden myself with it longer, I decided to 
 let the Chinese bankers have it, even though at a 
 loss, but when they discovered that the money was in 
 twenty-cent pieces they would have nothing to do
 
 38 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 with it at any price. So I carried it some two thousand 
 miles farther, to Hupeh itself. But even there it was 
 not willingly accepted. In the railway offices at Han- 
 kow not more than forty cents would be received in 
 small coins. If your ticket cost $10.50, you paid for 
 it in unbroken dollars, giving the railway a chance to 
 unload some of the undesirable change upon you. In 
 the end I found myself reduced to peddling twenty- 
 cent pieces among friends and friends of friends. 
 For small change on my journey I carried rolls of 
 copper cents, while the cook festooned himself with 
 long ropes of copper "cash," about twenty to the 
 American cent. 
 
 By the arrangement of the Foreign Office two 
 soldiers were detailed to escort me across Yunnan. 
 It is by the wish of the officials rather than at the 
 traveller's request that this escort is given. The 
 Chinese have learned through an experience not 
 wholly to our credit that injury or even annoyance to 
 the European may bring a punishment quite out of 
 proportion to the harm done ; so to avoid difficulties 
 the official is inclined to insist upon sending soldiers 
 with the foreigners passing through his district, and 
 the traveller as a rule perforce accepts the arrange- 
 ment. If he refuses, he will find it more difficult to 
 secure redress for any loss or injury suffered. For my 
 part I did not feel inclined to object. The expense is 
 borne by the Government, save for the customary
 
 DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU 39 
 
 tip, and in more ways than one I found my escort 
 useful. At irregular intervals they were changed. 
 When we reached the end of the last stage for which 
 they were detailed, I gave them my card to carry to 
 the proper local official. This was replied to by send- 
 ing a new pair bearing the official's card. 
 
 Some of the men were old-time soldiers, hardly to 
 be distinguished from yamen runners in their untidy 
 black and scarlet jackets decorated with bold letter- 
 ing on the back ; and their weapons consisted simply 
 of something that might be described as a small 
 sword or a huge carving-knife in a leather sheath. 
 After entering Szechuan I was usually accompanied 
 by quite real soldiers, men of the new service, fairly 
 shipshape in khaki and putties and carrying up-to- 
 date guns. But whether of the old order or of the 
 new, I found the men at all times very courteous and 
 friendly, and ready to do any little service that came 
 their way. It was the duty of one man to stay with 
 me, while the other looked after the baggage coolies. 
 As more at home in the particular district through 
 which we were passing, they were often very helpful to 
 my coolies in pointing out a short cut or in finding 
 our intricate way across the fields. Sometimes one 
 was sent in advance to make sure of the best quar- 
 ters the village where we were to pass the night could 
 afford, and they often showed great zeal in tidying 
 up the room for my coming. The preparations con-
 
 40 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 sisted usually in stirring up the dust of ages on the 
 floor, a proceeding I did not like, and in ruthlessly 
 tearing out the paper that covered the lattice open- 
 ing, of which I much approved. Glass is rarely seen 
 in West China, and the paper excluded both light 
 and air, but never the gaze of the curious, as a peep- 
 hole was very easily punched. On the march my es- 
 cort, quick to notice my interest in the flowers, were 
 active in bringing me huge nosegays gathered along 
 the trail, so that my chair was often turned into a gay 
 flowery bower; and they sometimes showed their 
 love for dogs, or perhaps sought to prove their zeal 
 in my service, by picking up Jack and carrying him 
 for the half-hour, to his great disgust, as his sturdy 
 legs were untiring, and equally so was his desire to 
 investigate every nook and corner. " Little fu t'ou," 
 the coolies called him, because of the careful watch 
 he kept for any stragglers of the caravan.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 
 
 MY departure was set for the 8th of April, and 
 by half-past four of that morning the coolies, 
 marshalled by the hong man, were at the door ; but it 
 was after nine before we were really under way. It is 
 always a triumphant moment when one's caravan 
 actually starts ; there have been so many times when 
 starting at all seemed doubtful. Mine looked quite 
 imposing as it moved off, headed by Mr. Stevenson 
 on his sturdy pony, I following in my chair, while 
 servants and coolies straggled on behind, but, as 
 usual, something was missing. This time it was one 
 of the two soldiers detailed by the Foreign Office to 
 accompany me the first stages of my journey. We 
 were told he would join us farther on. Fortunately 
 Mr. Stevenson was up to the wiles of the native, and 
 he at once scented the favourite device for two to take 
 the travelling allowance, and then, by some amicable 
 arrangement, for only one to go. So messengers were 
 sent in haste to look up the recreant, who finally 
 joined us with cheerful face at the West Gate, which 
 we reached by a rough path outside the north wall. 
 Here I bade Mr. Stevenson good-bye, and turned
 
 42 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 my face away from the city. Once more I was on the 
 " open road." Above me shone the bright sun of Yun- 
 nan, before me lay the long trail leading into the un- 
 known. Seven hundred miles of wild mountainous 
 country, six weeks of steady travelling lay between 
 me and Chengtu, the great western capital. The road 
 I planned to follow would lead nearly due north at 
 first, traversing the famous Chien-ch'ang valley after 
 crossing the Yangtse. But at Fulin on the Ta Tu I in- 
 tended to make a detour to the west as far as Ta- 
 chienlu, that I might see a little of the Tibetans even 
 though I could not enter Tibet. I did not fear trouble 
 of any sort in spite of a last letter of warning received 
 at Hong Kong from our Peking Legation, but there 
 was just enough of a touch of adventure to the trip 
 to make the roughnesses of the way endurable. Days 
 would pass before I could again talk with my own 
 kind, but I was not afraid of being lonely. "The 
 scene was savage, but the scene was new," and the 
 hours would be filled full with the constantly chang- 
 ing interests of the road, and as I looked at my men 
 I felt already the comradeship that would come with 
 long days of effort and hardship passed together. 
 These men of the East Turk, Indian, Chinese, Mon- 
 gol are much of a muchness, it seems to me; pay 
 them fairly, treat them considerately, laugh instead 
 of storm at the inevitable mishaps of the way, and 
 generally they will give you faithful, willing service.
 
 102" Longitude East from Greenwich 104
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 43 
 
 It is only when they have been spoiled by overpay- 
 ment, or by bullying of a sort they do not understand, 
 that the foreigner finds them exacting and untrust- 
 worthy. And the Chinese is an eminently reasonable 
 man. He does not expect reward without work, and 
 he works easily and cheerfully. But as yet he was to 
 me an unknown quantity, and I looked over my group 
 of coolies with some interest and a little uncertainty. 
 They were mostly strong, sound-looking men ; two 
 or three were middle-aged, the rest young. No one 
 looked unequal to the work, and no one proved so. 
 All wore the inevitable blue cotton of the Chinese, 
 varying with wear and patching from blue-black to 
 bluish-white, and the fashion of the dress was always 
 the same ; short, full trousers, square-cut, topped by 
 a belted shirt with long sleeves falling over the hands 
 or rolled up to the elbow according to the weather. 
 About their heads they generally twisted a strip of 
 cotton, save when blazing sun or pouring rain called 
 for the protection of their wide straw hats covered 
 with oiled cotton. Generally they wore the queue 
 tucked into the girdle to keep it out of the way, but 
 occasionally it was put to use, as, for example, if a 
 man's hat was not at hand to ward off the glare of 
 the sun, he would deftly arrange a thatch of leaves over 
 his eyes, binding it firm with his long braid of black 
 hair. On their feet they wore the inevitable straw san- 
 dal of these parts. Comfortable for those who know
 
 44 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 how to wear them, cheap even though not durable 
 (they cost only four cents Mexican the pair), and a 
 great safeguard against slipping, they seemed as 
 satisfactory footwear as the ordinary shoes of the bet- 
 ter-class Chinese seemed unsatisfactory. Throughout 
 the East it is only the barefooted peasant or the san- 
 dalled mountaineer who does not seem encumbered 
 by his feet. The felt shoe of the Chinese gentleman 
 and the flapping, heelless slipper of the Indian are 
 alike uncomfortable and hampering. Nor have Asi- 
 atics learned as yet to wear proper European shoes, 
 or to wear them properly, for they stub along in 
 badly cut, ill-fitting things too short for their feet. 
 Why does not the shoemaker of the West, if he 
 wishes to secure an Eastern market, study the foot of 
 the native, and make him shoes suited to his need? 
 
 Our order of march through Yunnan varied little 
 from day to day. We all had breakfast before starting 
 at about seven, and we all had much the same thing, 
 tea and rice, but mine came from the coast ; the coo- 
 lies bought theirs by the way. At intervals during the 
 forenoon we stopped at one of the many tea-houses 
 along the road to give the men a chance to rest and 
 smoke and drink tea. Sometimes I stayed in my chair 
 by the roadside; more often I escaped from the noise 
 and dirt of the village to some spot outside, among 
 the rice- and bean-fields, where the pony could gather 
 a few scant mouthfuls of grass while I sat hard-by on
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 45 
 
 a turf balk and enjoyed the quiet and clean air. Of 
 course I was often found out and followed by the vil- 
 lage-folk, but their curiosity was not very offensive. 
 Generally they squatted down in a semi-circle about 
 me, settling themselves deliberately to gaze their fill. 
 If they came too near I laughed and waved them 
 back, and they always complied good-naturedly. The 
 little children were often really quite charming under 
 the dirt, but until they had learned to wash their faces 
 and wipe their noses I must confess I liked them best 
 at a distance. 
 
 At noon we stopped at a handy inn or tea-house 
 for tiffin and a long rest. I was ordinarily served at 
 the back of the big eating-room open to the street in 
 as dignified seclusion as my cook could achieve. Rice 
 again, with perhaps stewed fowl or tinned beef, and 
 a dessert of jam and biscuit, usually formed my 
 luncheon, and dinner was like unto it, save that oc- 
 casionally we succeeded in securing some onions or 
 potatoes. The setting-forth of my table with clean 
 cloth and changes of plates was of never-failing in- 
 terest to the crowds that darkened the front of the 
 eating-house, and excitement reached a climax when 
 the coolie, whom my cook had installed as helper, 
 there is no Chinese too poor to lack some one to do 
 his bidding, served Jack his midday meal of rice 
 in his own dish. Then men stood on tiptoe and child- 
 ren climbed on each other's shoulders to see a dog
 
 46 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 fed like the Chinese equivalent of Christian. They 
 never seemed to begrudge him his food ; on the con- 
 trary, they often smiled approvingly. We were thou- 
 sands of miles away from the famine-stricken regions 
 of eastern China, and through much of the country 
 where I journeyed I saw almost no beggars or hungry- 
 looking folk. In the afternoon we stopped as before 
 at short intervals at some roadside tea-house, for the 
 coolies generally expect to rest every hour. 
 
 Our day's stage usually ended in a good-sized 
 town. I should have preferred it otherwise, for there 
 is more quiet and freedom in the villages. But my 
 coolies would have it so ; they liked the stir and bet- 
 ter fare of the towns, and the regular stages are ar- 
 ranged accordingly. Our entrance was noisy and 
 imposing. My coming seemed always expected, for 
 as by magic the narrow streets filled with staring 
 crowds. Through them the soldiers fought a way for 
 my chair, borne at smart pace by the coolies all 
 shouting at the top of their voices. I tried to culti- 
 vate the superior impassiveness of the Chinese offi- 
 cial, but generally the delighted shrieks of the child- 
 ren at the sight of Jack at my feet, and his gay 
 yelps in response, " upset the apple cart." There was 
 a rush to see the " foreign dog." I gripped him tighter 
 and only breathed freely when with a sharp turn to 
 right or left my chair was lifted high over a threshold 
 and borne through the inn door into the courtyard,
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 47 
 
 the crowd in no wise baffled swarming at our heels, 
 sometimes not even stopping at the entrance to the 
 inner court, sacred (more or less) to the so-called 
 mandarin rooms, the best rooms of the place. I could 
 not but sympathize with the inn-keeper, the order of 
 his establishment thus upset, but he took it in good 
 part ; perhaps the turmoil had its value in making 
 known to the whole world that the wandering for- 
 eigner had bestowed her patronage upon his house. 
 I am sure he had some reward in the many cups of 
 tea drunk while the crowd lingered on the chance of 
 another sight of the unusual visitor. Anyway we were 
 always made welcome, and no objections were offered 
 when my men took possession of the place in very 
 unceremonious fashion, as it seemed to me, filling 
 the court with their din, blocking the ways with the 
 chairs and baskets, seeking the best room for me, 
 and then testing the door and putting things to 
 rights after a fashion, while the owner looked on in 
 helpless wonder. 
 
 In the villages one stepped directly from the road 
 into a large living-room, kitchen, and dining-room in 
 one, and out of this opened the places for sleeping. 
 The inns in the towns are built more or less after one 
 and the same pattern. Entrance is through a large 
 restaurant open to the street, and filled with tables 
 occupied at all hours save early dawn with men sip- 
 ping and smoking. From the restaurant one passes
 
 48 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 into a stone-paved court surrounded usually by low, 
 one-story buildings, although occasionally there is a 
 second story opening into a gallery. Here are kitchens 
 and sleeping-rooms, while store-rooms and stables 
 are tucked in anywhere. In the largest inns there is 
 often an inner court into which open the better rooms. 
 While the cook bustled about to get hot water, and 
 the head coolie saw to the setting-up of my bed, I 
 generally went with the " ma-fu," or horse boy, to 
 see that the pony was properly cared for. Usually he 
 was handy, sometimes tethered by my door, often 
 just under my room, once overhead. Meanwhile the 
 coolies were freshening themselves up a bit after the 
 day's work. Sitting about the court they rinsed chest 
 and head and legs with the unfailing supply of hot 
 water which is the one luxury of a Chinese inn. I can 
 speak authoritatively on the cleanliness of the Chinese 
 coolie, for I had the chance daily to see my men scrub 
 themselves. Their cotton clothing loosely cut was 
 well ventilated, even though infrequently cleansed, 
 and there hung about them nothing of the odour of 
 the great unwashed of the Western world. I wish one 
 could say as much for the inns, but alas, they were 
 foul-smelling, one and all, and occasionally the room 
 offered me was so filthy that I refused to occupy it, 
 and went on the war-path for myself, followed by a 
 crowd of perplexed servants and coolies. Almost al- 
 ways I found a loft or a stable-yard that had at least
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 49 
 
 the advantage of plenty of fresh air, and without 
 demur my innkeeper made me free of it, although I 
 expect it cut him to the heart to have his best room 
 so flouted. 
 
 Generally I went to bed soon after dinner; there 
 was nothing else to do, for the dim lantern light 
 made reading difficult, and anyway my books were 
 few. But while the nights were none too long for me, 
 the Chinese, like most Asiatics, make little distinction 
 between day and night. They sleep if there is nothing 
 else to do, they wake when work or pleasure calls, 
 and it was long after midnight when the inn settled 
 itself to rest, and by four o'clock it was again awake, 
 and before seven we were once more on the road. 
 
 In Yunnan, or " South of the Clouds," as the word 
 signifies, you are in a land of sunshine, of wild 
 grandeur and beauty, of unfailing interest. Its one 
 hundred and fifty-five thousand square miles are 
 pretty much on end ; no matter which way you cross 
 the country you are always going up or going down, 
 and the contrasts of vegetation and lack of it are just 
 as emphatic ; barren snow-topped mountains over- 
 hang tiny valleys, veritable gems of tropical beauty ; 
 you pass with one step from a waste of rock and sand 
 to a garden-like oasis of soft green and rippling 
 waters. Yunnan's chequered history is revealed in 
 the varied peoples that inhabit the deep valleys and 
 narrow river banks. Nominally annexed to the em-
 
 50 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 pire by Kublai Khan, the Mongol, in the thirteenth 
 century, ever since the Chinese people have been at 
 work peacefully and irresistibly making the conquest 
 real, and now they are found all over the province, 
 as a matter of course occupying the best places. But 
 they have not exterminated the aborigines, nor have 
 they assimilated them to any degree. To-day the 
 tribes constitute more than one half the population, 
 and an ethnological map of Yunnan is a wonderful 
 patchwork, for side by side and yet quite distinct, 
 you find scattered about settlements of Chinese, 
 Shans, Lolos, Miaos, Losus, and just what some of 
 these are is still an unsolved riddle. To add to the con- 
 fusion there is a division of religions hardly known 
 elsewhere, for out of the population of twelve millions 
 it is estimated that three or four millions are Moham- 
 medans. To be sure, they seem much like the others, 
 and generally all get on together very well, for Mos- 
 lem pride of religion does not find much response with 
 the practical Chinese, and the Buddhist is as tolerant 
 here as elsewhere. But the Mohammedan rebellion 
 of half a century ago has left terrible memories ; then 
 add to that the ill-feeling between the Chinese and 
 the tribesmen, and the general discontent at the pro- 
 hibition of poppy-growing, and it is plain that Yun- 
 nan offers a fine field for long-continued civil dis- 
 order with all the possibility of foreign interference. 
 The early hours of our first day's march led us
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 51 
 
 along the great western trade route, and we met 
 scores of people hurrying towards the capital, mostly 
 coolies carrying on their backs, or slung from a bam- 
 boo pole across their shoulders, great loads of wood, 
 charcoal, fowls, rice, vegetables. Every one was afoot 
 or astride a pony, for there was nothing on wheels, 
 not even a barrow. The crowd lacked the variety in 
 colour and cut of dress of a Hindu gathering ; all 
 had black hair and all wore blue clothes, and one real- 
 ized at once how much China loses in not having a 
 picturesque and significant head covering like the 
 Indian turban. But the faces showed more diversity 
 both in hue and in feature than I had looked for. In 
 America we come in contact chiefly with Chinese of 
 one class, and usually from the one province of 
 Kwangtung. But the men of Yunnan and Szechuan 
 are of a different type, larger, sturdier, of better car- 
 riage. It takes experience commonly to mark differ- 
 ences in face and expression among men of an alien 
 race, and to the Asiatic all Europeans look much 
 alike, but already I was discerning variety in the 
 faces I met along the trail, and they did not seem as 
 unfamiliar to me as I had expected. I was constantly 
 surprised by resemblances to types and individuals at 
 home. One of my chair coolies, for example, a young, 
 smooth-faced fellow, bore a disconcerting likeness to 
 one of my former students. But fair or dark, fine- 
 featured or foul, all greeted me in a friendly way,
 
 52 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 generally stopping after I had passed to ask my 
 coolies more about me. My four-bearer chair testi- 
 fied to my standing, and my men, Eastern fashion, 
 glorified themselves in glorifying me. I was a 
 "scholar," a "learned lady," but what I had come 
 for was not so clear. A missionary I certainly was 
 not. Anyway, as a mere woman I was not likely to 
 do harm. 
 
 The road after crossing the plain entered the hills, 
 winding up and down, but always paved with cob- 
 bles and flags laid with infinite pains generations ago, 
 and now illustrating the Chinese saying of " good for 
 ten years, bad for ten thousand." It was so hopelessly 
 out of repair that men and ponies alike had to pick 
 their way with caution. Long flights of irregular and 
 broken stone stairs led up and down the hillsides over 
 which my freshly shod pony slipped and floundered 
 awkwardly, and I always breathed a sigh of relief 
 when a stretch of hard red earth gave a little respite. 
 It was neither courage nor pride that kept me in the 
 saddle, but the knowledge that much of the way 
 would be worse rather than better, and I would wisely 
 face it at the outset. If it got too nerve-racking I 
 could always betake myself to my chair and, trusting 
 in the eight sturdy legs of my bearers, abandon my- 
 self to enjoying the sights along the way. 
 
 Our first day's halt for tiffin was at the small 
 hamlet of P'u chi. The eating-house was small and
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 53 
 
 crowded, and my cook set my table perforce in the 
 midst of the peering, pointing throng. I was the tar- 
 get of scores of black eyes, and I felt that every move- 
 ment was discussed, every mouthful counted. As a 
 first experience it was a little embarrassing, but the 
 people seemed good-humoured and very ready to fall 
 into place or move out of the way in obedience to my 
 gestures when I tried to take some pictures, not too 
 successfully. Here for a moment I was again in touch 
 with my own world, as a runner, most thoughtfully 
 sent by Mr. Stevenson with the morning's letters, over- 
 took me. According to arrangement he had been paid 
 beforehand, but not knowing that I knew that, he 
 clamoured for more. The crowd pressed closer to 
 listen to the discussion, and grinned with a rather 
 malicious satisfaction when the man was forced to 
 confess that he had already received what they knew 
 was a generous tip. Chinese business instinct kept 
 them impartial, even between one of their own people 
 and a foreigner. 
 
 That night we stopped, after a stage of some sixty 
 li, about nineteen miles, at Erh-tsun, a small, uninter- 
 esting village. The inn was very poor, and I would 
 have consoled myself by thinking that it was well to 
 get used to the worst at once, only I was not sure 
 that it was the worst. My room, off the public gather- 
 ing place, had but one window looking directly on 
 the street. From the moment of my arrival the open-
 
 54 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 ing was filled with the faces of a staring, curious 
 crowd, pushing each other, stretching their necks to 
 get a better view. My servants put up an oiled cotton 
 sheet, but it was promptly drawn aside, so there was 
 nothing for me to do but wash, eat, and go to bed in 
 public, like a royal personage of former times. 
 
 It was a beautiful spring morning when we started 
 the next day. We were now among the mountains, 
 and much of our way led along barren hillsides, but 
 the air was intoxicating, and the views across the 
 ridges were charming. At times we dropped into a 
 small valley, each having its little group of houses 
 nestling among feathery bamboos and surrounded by 
 tiny green fields. Dogs barked, children ran after us, 
 men and women stopped for a moment to smile a 
 greeting and exchange a word with our coolies. As 
 a rule, the people looked comfortable and well fed, 
 but here and there we passed a group of ruined, aban- 
 doned hovels. The explanation varied. Sometimes 
 the ruin dated back more than a generation to the 
 terrible days of the Mohammedan rebellion. In other 
 cases the trouble was more recent. The irrigating sys- 
 tem had broken down, or water was scant, or more 
 frequently the cutting-off of the opium crop had driven 
 the people from their homes. But in general there 
 was little tillable land that was unoccupied. In fact, 
 the painstaking effort to utilize every bit of soil was 
 tragic to American eyes, accustomed to long stretches
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 55 
 
 of countryside awaiting the plough. At the close of 
 the troubles that devastated the province during the 
 third quarter of the nineteenth century it is said that 
 the population of Yunnan had fallen to about a mil- 
 lion, but now, owing in part to the great natural in- 
 crease of the Chinese, and in part to immigration 
 chiefly from overpopulated Szechuan and Kwei-chou, 
 it is estimated at twelve million. At any rate, those 
 who know the country well declare there is little va- 
 cant land fit for agriculture, that the province has 
 about as many inhabitants as it can support, and can 
 afford no relief to the overcrowded eastern districts. 
 This is a thing to keep in mind when Japan urges her 
 need of Manchuria for her teeming millions. 
 
 We stopped for tiffin at Fu-ming-hsien, a prosper- 
 ous-looking town of some eight hundred families. 
 As usual, I lunched in public, the crowd pressing 
 close about my table in spite of the efforts of a real, 
 khaki-clad policeman; but it was a jolly, friendly 
 crowd, its interest easily diverted from me to the dog. 
 Here we changed soldiers, for this was a hsien town, 
 or district centre. Those who had come with me from 
 Yunnan-fu were dismissed with a tip amounting to 
 about three cents gold a day each. They seemed 
 perfectly satisfied. It was the regulation amount ; had 
 I given more they would have clamoured for some- 
 thing additional. That afternoon we stopped for a 
 long rest at a tiny, lonely inn, perched most pic-
 
 56 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 turesquely on a spur of the mountain. I sat in my 
 chair while the coolies drank tea inside, and a num- 
 ber of children gathered about me, ready to run if I 
 seemed dangerous. Finally one, taking his courage 
 in both hands, presented me with the local substitute 
 for candy, raw peas in the pod, which I nibbled 
 and found refreshing. In turn I doled out some bis- 
 cuits, to the children's great delight, while fathers 
 and mothers looked on approvingly. The way to the 
 heart of the Chinese is not far to seek. They dote on 
 children, and children the world over are much alike. 
 More than once I have solved an awkward situation 
 by ignoring the inhospitable or unwilling elders and 
 devoting myself to the little ones, always at hand. 
 Please the children and you have won the parents. 
 
 We stopped that night at Che-pei, a small town 
 lying at an elevation of about six thousand feet. My 
 room, the best the inn afforded, was dirty, but large 
 and airy. On one side a table was arranged for the 
 ancestral family worship, and I delayed turning in at 
 night to give the people a chance to burn a few joss 
 sticks, which they did in a very matter-of-fact fashion, 
 nowise disturbed at my washing-things, which Liu, 
 the cook, had set out among the gods. 
 
 Our path the next day led high on the mountain- 
 side and along a beautiful ridge. We stopped for an 
 early rest at a little walled village, Jee-ka (" Cock's 
 street"), perched picturesquely on the top of the hill.
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 57 
 
 Later we saw a storm advancing across the moun- 
 tains, and before we could reach cover the clouds 
 broke over our heads, drenching the poor coolies to 
 the skin, but they took it in good part, laughing as 
 they scuttled along the trail. The rain kept on for 
 some hours, and the road was alternately a brook or 
 a sea of slippery red mud ; the pony, with the cook 
 on his back, rolled over, but fortunately neither was 
 hurt ; coolies slid and floundered, and the chair-men 
 went down, greatly to their confusion, for it is 
 deemed inexcusable for a chair-carrier to fall. To- 
 ward the end of the day it cleared and the bright sun 
 soon dried the ways, and we raced into Wu-ting- 
 chou in fine shape, the coolies picking their way 
 deftly along the narrow earth balks that form the 
 highway to this rather important town. Our entrance 
 was of the usual character, a cross between a tri- 
 umphal procession and a circus show, people rush- 
 ing to see the sight, children calling, dogs barking, 
 my men shouting as they pushed their way through 
 the throng, while I sat the observed of all, trying to 
 carry off my embarrassment with a benevolent smile. 
 I am told that the interest of a Chinese crowd usually 
 centres on the foreigners' shoes, but in my case, 
 when the gaze got down to my feet, Jack was mostly 
 there to divert attention. 
 
 Rain came on again in the night and kept us in 
 Wu-ting-chou over the next day. The Chinese, with
 
 53 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 their extraordinary adaptability, can stand extremes 
 of heat and cold remarkably well. Hence they are 
 good colonizers, able to work in Manchuria and 
 Singapore, Canada and Panama. But rain they dis- 
 like, and a smart shower is a good excuse for stop- 
 ping. Fortunately for all, the inn was unusually 
 decent. Steps led from the street into an outer court, 
 behind which was a much larger second court, sur- 
 rounded on all sides by two-story buildings. My 
 room on the upper floor had beautiful views over the 
 town, more attractive at close range than most 
 Chinese towns. The temples and yamen buildings 
 were exceptionally fine, while the houses, of sun-dried 
 brick of the colour of the red soil of Yunnan, had a 
 comfortable look, their tip-tilted tiled roofs showing 
 picturesquely among the trees. 
 
 I spent the rainy forenoon in writing and in lean- 
 ing over the gallery to watch the life going on below. 
 After the first excitement people went about their 
 business undisturbed by my presence. At one side 
 cooking was carried on at a long, crescent-shaped 
 range of some sort of cement, and containing half a 
 dozen openings for fires. Above each fire was a bowl- 
 shaped depression in the range, and into this was 
 fitted a big iron pot. The food of the country is gen- 
 erally boiled, and is often seasoned with a good deal 
 of care. Barring the lack of cleanliness, the chief 
 objection to the cooking of the peasant-folk is the
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 59 
 
 failure to cook thoroughly. The Chinese are content 
 if the rice and vegetables are cooked through ; they 
 do not insist, as we do, that they be cooked soft. In 
 the smaller inns my men prepared their food them- 
 selves, and some showed considerable skill. One 
 soldier in particular was past-master in making 
 savoury stews much appreciated by the others. 
 
 Wu-ting-chou being a place designated for the pay- 
 ment of an instalment of wages, and also the time 
 having come for pork money, my coolies had a grand 
 feast, after which they devoted themselves to gam- 
 bling away their hard-earned money in games of " fan 
 t'an." As they played entirely among themselves the 
 result was that some staggered the following day 
 under heavy ropes of cash, while others were forced 
 to sell their hats to pay for their food. I could only 
 hope that the next pay-day would mean a readjust- 
 ment of spoils. 
 
 In the afternoon it cleared, and I went out in my 
 chair, escorted by two policemen, to a charming grove 
 outside the walls, where I rested for a time in a quiet 
 nook, enjoying the views over the valley and thank- 
 ful to get away from the din of the inn. Curling up, I 
 went fast asleep, to wake with an uncomfortable sense 
 of being watched ; and sure enough, peering over the 
 top of the bank where I was lying were two pairs of 
 startled black eyes. I laughed, and thereupon the 
 owners of the eyes, who had stumbled upon me as
 
 60 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 they came up the hill, seated themselves in front of 
 me and began to ply me with questions, to which I 
 could only answer with another laugh ; so they re- 
 lapsed into friendly silence, gingerly stroking Jack 
 while they kept a watchful eye on me. What does it 
 matter if words are lacking, a laugh is understood, 
 and will often smooth a way where speech would 
 bring confusion. Once, years ago in Western Tibet, I 
 crossed a high pass with just one coolie, in advance 
 of my caravan. Without warning we dropped down 
 into a little village above the Shyok. Most of the 
 people had never before seen a European. I could 
 not talk with them nor they with my coolie, for he 
 came from the other side of the range, nor he with 
 me. But I laughed, and every one else laughed, and 
 in five minutes I was sitting on the grass under the 
 walnut trees, offerings of flowers and mulberries on 
 my lap, and while the whole population sat around on 
 stone walls and house roofs, the village head man 
 took off my shoes and rubbed my weary feet. 
 
 When I emerged from my retreat I found that a 
 priest from the neighbouring temple had come to beg 
 a visit from me. It turned out to be a Buddhist temple 
 on the usual plan, noteworthy only for a rather good 
 figure of Buddha made of sun-dried clay and painted. 
 The priest was inclined to refuse a fee, saying he had 
 done nothing, but he was keen to have me take some 
 pictures.
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 61 
 
 The next three days our path led us across the 
 mountains separating the Yangtse and Red River 
 basins. We were now off the main roads ; villages 
 and travellers were few. To my delight we had left 
 for a time the paved trails over which the pony scraped 
 and slipped ; the hard dirt made a surer footing, and 
 it was possible to let him out for a trot now and then. 
 The start and finish of the day were usually by wind- 
 ing narrow paths carried along the strips of turf divid- 
 ing the fields or over the top of a stone wall. I learned 
 to respect both the sure-footedness of the Yunnan 
 pony and the thrift of the Yunnan peasant who wasted 
 no bit of tillable land on roads. From time to time 
 we crossed a stone bridge, rarely of more than one 
 arch, and that so pointed that the ponies on the road, 
 which followed closely the line of the arch, clambered 
 up with difficulty only to slide headlong on the other 
 side. The bridges of these parts are very picturesque, 
 giving an added charm to the landscape, in glaring 
 contrast to the hideous, shed-like structures that dis- 
 figure many a beautiful stream of New England. 
 
 Our way led alternately over barren or pine-clad 
 hills, showing everywhere signs of charcoal burners, 
 or through deep gorges, or dipped down into tiny 
 emerald valleys. At one point we descended an in- 
 terminable rock staircase guarded by soldiers top 
 and bottom. Formerly this was a haunt of robbers, 
 but now the Government was making a vigorous ef-
 
 62 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 fort to insure the safety of traffic along this way. Our 
 stay that night was in a tiny hamlet, and a special 
 guard was stationed at the door of the inn to defend 
 us against real or fancied danger from marauders. 
 
 It was still early in April, but even on these high 
 levels the flowers were in their glory, and each day 
 revealed a new wonder. Roses were abundant, white 
 and scentless, or small, pink, and spicy, and the 
 ground was carpeted with yellow and blue flowers. 
 From time to time we passed a group of comfortable 
 farm buildings, but much of the country had a deso- 
 late look and the villages were nothing more than 
 forlorn hamlets, and once we stopped for the night 
 in a solitary house far from any settlement. A week 
 after leaving Yunnan-fu we entered the valley of the 
 Tso-ling Ho, a tributary of the Great River, and a 
 more fertile region. As I had been warned, the wea- 
 ther changed here, and for the next twenty-four 
 hours we sweltered in the steamy heat of the Yangtse 
 basin. From now on, there was no lack of water. On 
 all sides brooks large and small dashed down, swell- 
 ing the Tso-ling almost to the size of the main river 
 itself. At one spot, sending the men on to the village, 
 I stopped on the river bank to bathe my tired feet, 
 and was startled by the passing of a stray fisherman, 
 but he seemed in no wise surprised, and greeting me 
 courteously went on with his work. China shares with 
 us the bad fame of being unpleasantly inquisitive.
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 63 
 
 Would the rural American, happening upon a 
 Chinese woman, an alien apparition from her 
 smoothly plastered hair to her tiny bound feet, by 
 the brookside in one of his home fields, have shown 
 the same restraint? 
 
 At five o'clock that same day we reached the ferry 
 across the Yangtse, too late to cross that night. I was 
 hot and weary after a long march, and the only place 
 available in the village of Lung-kai was a cramped, 
 windowless hole opening into a small, filthy court, 
 the best room of the inn being occupied by a sick 
 man. Through an open doorway I caught a glimpse 
 into a stable-yard well filled with pigs. On one side 
 was a small, open, shrine-like structure reached by a 
 short flight of steps. In spite of the shocked remon- 
 strances of my men I insisted on taking possession 
 of this ; the yard, though dirty, was dry, and at least 
 I was sure of plenty of air. Fresh straw was spread 
 in the shrine and my bed set up on it ; the pigs were 
 given my pony's stable, as I preferred his company 
 to theirs ; and I had an unusually pleasant evening, 
 spite of the fact that the roofs of the adjoining build- 
 ings were crowded with onlookers, mostly children, 
 until it grew too dark for them to see anything. 
 
 We crossed the Yangtse the next day on a large 
 flat-bottomed boat into which we all crowded hig- 
 gledy-piggledy, the men and their loads, pony and 
 chairs. The current was so swift that we were carried
 
 64 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 some distance downstream before making a landing. 
 At this point, and indeed from Tibet to Suifu, the 
 Yangtse is, I believe, generally known as the Kinsha 
 Kiang, or "River of Golden Sand." The Chinese 
 have no idea of the continuing identity of a river, and 
 most of theirs have different names at different parts 
 of their course, but in this case there is some reason 
 for the failure to regard the upper and the lower 
 Yangtse as one and the same stream, for at Suifu, 
 where the Min joins the Yangtse, it is much the larger 
 body of water throughout most of the year, and is 
 generally held by the natives to be the true source 
 of the Great River. Moreover, above the junction the 
 Yangtse is not navigable, owing to the swift current 
 and obstructing rocks, while the Min serves as one 
 of China's great waterways, bearing the products of 
 the famous Chengtu plain to the eastern markets. 
 
 After leaving the ferry we followed for some miles 
 the dry bed of a river whose name I could not learn. 
 The scene was desolate and barren in the extreme, 
 nothing but rock and sand; and had it not been 
 cloudy the heat would have been very trying. But 
 we were now among the Cloud Mountains, where the 
 bright days are so few that it is said the Szechuan 
 dogs bark when the sun comes out. After a short stop 
 at a lonely inn near a trickle of a brook we turned 
 abruptly up the mountain-side, by a zigzag trail so 
 steep that even the interpreter was forced to walk.
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 65 
 
 As I toiled wearily upward, I looked back to find my 
 dog riding comfortably in my chair. Tired and hot, 
 he had barked to be taken up. The coolies thought 
 it a fine joke, and when I whistled him down they at 
 once put him back again, explaining that it was hard 
 work for short legs. At one of the worst bits of the 
 trail we met some finely dressed men on horseback, 
 who stared in a superior way at me on foot. The 
 Chinese sees no reason for walking if he has a chair 
 or pony. What are the chair and the pony for ? They 
 must lack imagination, or how can they ride down 
 the awful staircases of a West China road, the pony 
 plunging from step to step under his heavy load? I 
 doubt if they realize either the pony's suffering or 
 the rider's danger. I did both, and so I often walked. 
 After a climb of three thousand feet we came out on 
 a wide open plateau, beautifully cultivated, which we 
 crossed to our night stopping-place, Chiang-yi, nearly 
 seven thousand feet above sea level. 
 
 We started the next morning in the rain, which 
 kept up pretty much all day. The country through 
 which we now passed was rather bare of cultivation 
 and of inhabitants, but the wealth and variety of 
 flowers and shrubs more than made amends. No- 
 where have I seen such numbers of flowering shrubs 
 as all through this region, a few known to me, but 
 most of them quite new. It was with much gratifica- 
 tion that I learned at a later time of the remarkable
 
 66 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 work done in connection with the Arnold Arboretum 
 near Boston in seeking out and bringing to America 
 specimens of many of China's beautiful trees and 
 plants. At the head of one small valley we passed a 
 charming temple half buried in oleanders and sur- 
 rounded by its own shimmering green rice-fields, and 
 a little farther on we came to a farmhouse enclosed 
 in a rose hedge some twelve feet high and in full 
 bloom. There was no sign of life about, and it might 
 have served as the refuge of the Sleeping Princess, 
 but a nearer inspection would probably have been 
 disillusioning. 
 
 We stopped that night at Ho-k'ou, a small place 
 of which I saw little, for the heavy rain that kept us 
 there over a day held me a prisoner in the inn. I had 
 a small room over the pony's stable, and I spent the 
 forenoon writing to the tune of comfortable crunch- 
 ing of corn and beans. The rest of the day I amused 
 myself in entertaining the women of the inn with the 
 contents of my dressing-case, and when it grew cold 
 in my open loft I joined the circle round the good 
 coal fire burning in a brazier in the public room. 
 Every one was friendly, and persistent, men and 
 women alike, in urging me to take whirls from their 
 long-stemmed tobacco pipes. All smoke, using some- 
 times this long-stemmed, small-bowled pipe, and 
 sometimes the water pipe, akin in principle to the 
 Indian hubble-bubble. In this part of Szechuan I saw
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 67 
 
 few smoking cigarettes, but thanks to the untiring 
 efforts of the British American Tobacco Company, 
 they are fast becoming known, and my men were 
 vastly pleased when I doled some out at the end of a 
 hard day. 
 
 From Ho-k'ou it was a two days' journey to Hui- 
 li-chou, the first large town on my trip. The scenery 
 was charmingly varied. At times the trail led along 
 high ridges with beautiful glimpses down into the 
 valleys, or affording splendid views to right and left, 
 to the mysterious, forbidden Lololand to the east, and 
 to the unsurveyed country beyond the Yalung, west 
 of us, or again it dropped to the banks of the streams, 
 leading us through attractive hamlets buried in palms 
 and bamboo, pines and cactus, while the surrounding 
 hillsides were white or red with masses of rhododen- 
 dron just coming into flower. Entering one village I 
 heard a sound as of swarming bees raised to the one 
 hundredth power. On inquiry it turned out to be a 
 school kept in a small temple. While the coolies were 
 resting I sent my card to the schoolmaster, and was 
 promptly invited to pay a visit of inspection. It proved 
 to be a private school of some thirty boys and one girl, 
 the master's daughter. They were of all ages from six 
 years upwards, and, I was told, generally stayed 
 from one to five years at school. Instruction was 
 limited to reading and writing, and two boys were 
 called up to show what they could do. To ignorant
 
 68 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 me they seemed to do very well, reading glibly down 
 their pages of hieroglyphics. 
 
 At another stop I had a talk with the village head- 
 man. He was elected for one year, he told me, by the 
 people of the hamlet, comprising about forty families. 
 He confessed his inability to read or write, but his 
 face was intelligent and his bearing showed dignity 
 and self-respect. Petty disputes and breaches of the 
 peace were settled by him according to unwritten 
 custom and his native shrewdness ; and he was also 
 responsible for the collection of the land tax due from 
 the village. 
 
 The people in this part of Szechuan seemed fairly 
 prosperous, but the prevalence of goitre was very 
 unpleasant. The natives account for it in various 
 ways, the use of white salt or the drinking of water 
 made from melting snow. 
 
 On the 2Oth of April we reached Hui-li-chou. The 
 approach to the town or group of towns which make 
 up this, the largest place in southern Szechuan, was 
 charming, through high hedges gay with pink and 
 white flowers. In the suburbs weaving or dyeing 
 seemed to be going on in every house. Sometimes 
 whole streets were given over to the dyers, naked 
 men at work above huge vats filled with the inevit- 
 able blue of China. After crossing the half-dry bed 
 of a small river we found ourselves under the great 
 wall of Hui-li proper. Turning in at the South Gate
 
 ACROSS YUNNAN 69 
 
 we rapidly traversed the town to our night's lodging- 
 place near the North Gate, the crowds becoming ever 
 denser, people swarming out from the restaurants 
 and side streets, as the news spread of the arrival of 
 a " yang-potsz " (foreign woman). The interest was 
 not surprising, as I was only the third or fourth 
 European woman to come this way, but it was my 
 first experience alone in a large town, and the press- 
 ing, staring crowd was rather dismaying ; however, I 
 found comfortable companionship in the smiling face 
 of a little lad running beside my chair, his swift feet 
 keeping pace with the carriers. I smiled back, and 
 when the heavy doors of our night's lodging-house 
 closed behind us, I found the small gamin was inside, 
 too, self-installed errand boy. He proved quick 
 and alert beyond the common run of boys, East or 
 West, and made himself very useful, but save when 
 out on errands he was always at my side, watching 
 me with dog-like interest, and kowtowing to the 
 ground when I gave him a small reward. The next 
 morning he was on duty at dawn, and trotted beside 
 my chair until we were well on our way, when I sent 
 him back. I should have been glad to have borrowed 
 or bought or stolen him. 
 
 Hui-li-chou, with a population of some forty thou- 
 sand, is in the middle of an important mining region, 
 both zinc and copper ore being found in the neigh- 
 bouring hills in good quantity ; but the bad roads and
 
 70 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 government restrictions combine to keep down in- 
 dustry. In spite of its being a trading centre the inns 
 are notoriously bad, and we were fortunate in finding 
 rooms in a small mission chapel maintained by a 
 handful of native Christians. In the course of the 
 evening some of them paid me a call. They seemed 
 intelligent and alert, and although in the past the 
 town has had an unpleasant reputation for hostility 
 to missions, conditions at the present time were de- 
 clared to be satisfactory.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 
 
 THE second day after leaving Hui-li-chou we 
 entered the valley of the Anning Ho, a grey, 
 fast-flowing stream whose course runs parallel with 
 the meridian like all the others of that' interesting 
 group of rivers between Assam and eastern Szechuan, 
 the Irrawaddy, the Sal ween, the Mekong, the Yangtse, 
 the Yalung. The Anning, the smallest of these, lies en- 
 closed in a wilderness of tangled ranges, and its val- 
 ley forms the shortest trade route between Szechuan 
 and the Indo-Chinese peninsula. For about eight 
 marches, north and south, it runs through a district 
 known as Chien-ch'ang, celebrated throughout China 
 for its fertility and the variety of its products. At the 
 lower end the valley is very narrow, and level ground 
 is limited, but the gentle slopes on either side are 
 beautifully cultivated in tiny terraced fields. Farther 
 north, however, in the neighbourhood of Ning-yiian- 
 fu, the valley widens out into a broad, open plain. 
 Apparently in this favoured region tropics and tem- 
 perate zone meet, for I never saw before such motley 
 vegetation. Rice and cotton alternate with wheat and 
 maize and beans, while saffron and indigo fit in any-
 
 72 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 where. Fruits, too, of many kinds are abundant. A 
 short time ago the poppy made every turn brilliant, 
 but to-day imperial edicts, ruthlessly enforced, are 
 saving the Chinese unwillingly from themselves, and 
 the poppy has disappeared from sight. In spite of 
 complaints it would seem as though the Chien-ch'ang 
 farmers, better than many in West China, could sup- 
 port the loss of that remunerative crop, for their re- 
 sources, properly exploited, seem almost exhaustless. 
 Mulberry trees are grown about every village and 
 farmhouse, and the silk export is of considerable value 
 to the community. 
 
 But one of the most interesting products of this re- 
 gion has lost much of its importance in late years. 
 All over China, but especially in this part of Sze- 
 chuan, there grows a tree of the large-leaved privet 
 species. On the bark of the branches and twigs are 
 discovered attached little brown scales of the size and 
 shape of a small pea. When opened in the spring 
 they are found to contain a swarming mass of min- 
 ute insects. Toward the end of April, the time when 
 I passed through this region, these scales were being 
 carefully gathered and packed in small parcels, and 
 already the journey northward was beginning. Por- 
 ters bearing loads of about sixty pounds were hurry- 
 ing up the valley, often travelling only by night to 
 save their precious burden from the burning sun's 
 rays which would cause too rapid development
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 73 
 
 Their destination was Chia-ting, which lies on the 
 Min River at the eastern edge of a great plain, the 
 home of the so-called " pai-la shu," or " white wax 
 tree," a species of ash. The whole countryside is 
 dotted over with this tree, so cut as to resemble the 
 pollard willow. On arrival the scales are carefully 
 made up into small packets of twenty or thirty scales 
 each, wrapped in leaves and attached to the branches 
 of the white wax tree. After a short interval the in- 
 sects emerge from the scales and secrete a waxlike 
 substance, covering the boughs and twigs with a 
 white deposit about a quarter of an inch thick. This 
 is carefully gathered, and after purification by boil- 
 ing is made up into the small cakes of commerce to 
 be put to various uses. It forms an important ingre- 
 dient in sizing and polish, and also in giving a gloss 
 to silk ; but especially it is valued as imparting a 
 greater consistency to tallow for candles, as it melts 
 only at a temperature of 160 Fahrenheit. But the 
 Standard Oil activities have dealt a serious blow to 
 the white wax industry. Kerosene is now in general 
 use where there is any lighting at all, and whereas 
 formerly ten thousand coolies annually hurried up 
 the valley carrying scales to Chia-ting, we now saw 
 only a few hundred. 
 
 A generation ago Chien-ch'ang was perhaps the 
 least known part of all China to the outside world. 
 About the middle of the thirteenth century the Mon-
 
 74 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 gol, Kublai Khan, acting as general of the forces of 
 his brother, Genghis Khan, went through here to the 
 conquest of Tali, then~an independent kingdom in the 
 southwest, and the untiring Venetian following in 
 his train noted a few of the characteristics of Caindu, 
 the name he gave both to the valley and the capital 
 city. Six centuries elapsed before the next traveller 
 from the West came this way. In the late seventies 
 Colborne Baber, Chinese Secretary of the British Le- 
 gation, traversed the valley from north to south, be- 
 ing the first European since the time of Marco Polo 
 to enter Ning-yiian-fu, save for an unfortunate French 
 priest who arrived a few months earlier, only to be 
 driven out with stones. At that time, according to 
 Baber, " two or three sentences in the book of Ser 
 Marco to the effect that after crossing high mountains 
 he reached a fertile country containing many villages 
 and towns, and inhabited by a very immoral popula- 
 tion," constituted the only existing description of the 
 district. 
 
 In spite of the importance of this route it remained 
 until a few years ago very insecure. Overhung al- 
 most its entire length by the inaccessible fastnesses 
 of Lololand, the passing caravans dared journey only 
 with convoy, and even then were frequently over- 
 whelmed by raiders from the hills, who carried off 
 both trader and goods into the mountains, the former 
 to lifelong servitude. The Ta Liang Shan, or " Great
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 75 
 
 Cold Mountains," the country of the independent 
 Lolos, is a mountainous region extending north and 
 south some three hundred miles, which constitutes to 
 this day an almost impenetrable barrier between east 
 and west, crossed voluntarily by no Chinese, unless 
 in force, and from which but one European party has 
 returned to tell the tale. On the outskirts of this ter- 
 ritory a little mission work has been undertaken with 
 some success, but as yet no real impression has been 
 made upon the people. Chinese hold upon the country 
 is limited to an occasional more or less ineffective 
 punitive expedition organized after some unusual 
 outrage, such as the murder, a few years back, of 
 Lieutenant Brooke, the English explorer. Naturally 
 the Government does not care to assume any respon- 
 sibility for the foolhardy foreigner bent on risking 
 his life. Lieutenant Brooke went without permission, 
 and during my stay in Ning-yiian I learned that 
 two French travellers had just sought in vain for 
 leave to attempt the crossing of the mountains to 
 Suifu. 
 
 Within Lololand, of course, no Chinese writ runs, 
 no Chinese magistrate holds sway, and the people, 
 more or less divided among themselves, are under 
 the government of their tribal chiefs. The little that 
 is known of this interesting race has been learned 
 from the so-called tame Lolos who have accepted 
 Chinese rule, and are found scattered in small villages
 
 76 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 / in the western part of Szechuan and Yunnan, being 
 perhaps most numerous in the neighbourhood of the 
 Anning and Yalung rivers, where an appreciable pro- 
 portion of the population is of aboriginal or mixed 
 aboriginal and Chinese stock. Accepting Chinese 
 rule does not generally mean accepting Chinese cus- 
 toms. They hold to their own language and religion, 
 one a dialect akin to Tibetan, and the other a form 
 of animism. It is very easy to distinguish conquerors 
 and conquered, for the Lolos are darker as well as 
 taller and better formed than the Chinese. Their fea- 
 tures are good and they have a frank, direct expres- 
 sion which is very attractive. In dress also they have 
 not conformed to the ways of their masters. Instead 
 of a queue the men wear the hair in a horn above the 
 forehead, while the women hold firmly to the femi- 
 nine petticoats, surrounded though they are by the 
 trousered Chinese women. Nor do they bind their 
 feet, but stride bravely along on the feet nature gave 
 them. 
 
 What these people really are is one of the unsettled 
 ethnological problems of the East, but probably they 
 are of the same stock as the Shans and Burmese. 
 Even their proper appellation is in doubt. The Chi- 
 nese call them Lolos, which means simply "bar- 
 barians " or " wild men." By the people themselves 
 the term is regarded as insulting, and one should 
 avoid using it before them ; but they are not agreed
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 77 
 
 among themselves on a common name, and use or- 
 dinarily local tribal names. 
 
 Half a dozen years ago travellers were warned 
 against the dangers of the road, but since then mat- 
 ters have been taken vigorously in hand by the Chi- 
 nese authorities. Guard-houses have been erected at 
 short intervals, the passes are strongly fortified, and 
 a large force of well-trained men is stationed per- 
 manently in the valley. The journey can now be made 
 in entire safety, but there are numerous signs of past 
 dangers, and the precautions taken are very evident. 
 Perhaps I was made especially conscious of possible 
 danger because, as my interpreter said, though the 
 officials were careful to secure the safety of every one 
 of us, they were particularly anxious that nothing 
 should happen to me ; not, of course, from any per- 
 sonal concern for the foreigner, but because the for- 
 eigner's Government has such a way of making things 
 unpleasant if anything happens to him. 
 
 From Hui-li-chou northwards I was escorted by 
 real soldiers, quite of the new service. They looked 
 rather shipshape in khaki suits and puttees, and their 
 guns were of a good model, but they handled them in 
 careless fashion at first, belabouring laden ponies and 
 even coolies who were slow in getting out of the way 
 of my chair. I am told that they are very ready to lord 
 it over their countrymen when escorting Europeans, 
 taking advantage of the fearful respect in which the
 
 78 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 foreigner is held. I checked them vigorously at the 
 time, and before the next morning's start I called 
 them up, and with the aid of the interpreter harangued 
 them to the effect that I was pleased to see that they 
 knew how to use their guns, and if need came I hoped 
 they would give a good account of themselves in 
 China's defence, but in the mean time they should be 
 very slow to use their weapons on men or beasts, and 
 if I saw them do it while they were with me they 
 would get no " wine money." The soldiers took my 
 orders very meekly, and the bystanders (there are 
 always bystanders in China) grinned approvingly. 
 
 The first two marches out from Hui-li led over the 
 range into the Anning valley, a high, rocky trail 
 without much vegetation for the most part, but after 
 we struck the river, cultivation was almost continu- 
 ous, one hamlet following fast on another. This part 
 of the valley is available for irrigation, and the skill 
 and ingenuity shown in making use of the water sup- 
 ply is nothing short of marvellous. At one point we 
 ascended a long, wide, gentle slope all laid out in tiny 
 fields, and well watered from two large, fast-flowing 
 streams. But where did they come from, for the slope 
 ended abruptly in a sharp, high precipice overlooking 
 a gorge through which flowed the Chin Ch'uan, a 
 tributary of the Anning. But on turning a corner at 
 the head of the slope we saw that from high up on 
 the mountain-side an artificial channel had been con-
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 79 
 
 structed with infinite labour, bringing water from 
 the upper course of the stream to the thirsty fields 
 below. 
 
 Late on this same day the trail crossed a bare, 
 rocky hillside, at one point passing between masses 
 of stone ruins ; something like a tower to the right, 
 and on the left a sort of walled enclosure. I had 
 lingered behind to gather a nosegay of the small blue 
 flowers that marked the day's march. As I ap- 
 proached I saw some twenty or thirty men clad in 
 long white or black cloaks hanging about the ruins, 
 and my big chair coolie, who had constituted him- 
 self my special protector, coming to meet me, hurried 
 me by without stopping. When I joined the inter- 
 preter, who was waiting for me at a discreet distance, 
 I learned that the men were Lolos, " half-tame wild 
 men," employed by merchants and others to guard 
 this rather dangerous place where the trail approached 
 somewhat closely the territory of the independent 
 Lolos. In spite of protests I went back, accompanied 
 by the big coolie and a soldier, to take some pictures. 
 A few of the men ran away, but most made no ob- 
 jection and good-humouredly grouped themselves at 
 my direction while I photographed them as best I 
 could in the waning light. Their independent bearing 
 and bold, free look interested me, and I should have 
 been glad to talk with them, but the interpreter was 
 disinclined to come near, and it was doubtful, too, if
 
 8o A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 they could have spoken Chinese well enough to have 
 been understood. 
 
 The 25th of April was our last day into Ning-yiian- 
 fu, and I was glad ; it was getting very hot, and the 
 coolies were tired from their long journey. Several 
 were hiring substitutes from the village-folk, paying 
 less than half what they received from me. To avoid 
 the heat we were off before sunrise. Often on that 
 part of the trip we started in the half-light of the early 
 dawn, and there was something very delightful in 
 our unnoticed departure through the empty, echoing 
 streets of the sleeping town where, the evening before, 
 the whole population had been at our heels. And 
 outside the stifling walls the joy of another day's ride 
 through a new world was awaiting me. 
 
 For a time we followed up the narrow, winding 
 valley, gradually opening out until we turned off to 
 cross the low hills that barred the southern end of 
 the Ning-yiian plain. Every inch of ground was 
 under cultivation, but as yet few crops were up. Mul- 
 berries, however, were ripening fast, forerunners of 
 the abundant fruit of this region. Shortly before 
 tiffin we crossed a stream over which the bridge of 
 stone was actually being repaired. In China, as else- 
 where in Asia, it is a work of merit to construct a 
 new building or road, but waste of time to repair the 
 old. I wondered if by any chance some high official 
 was expected, for the East fulfils quite literally the
 
 LOLO GIRLS 
 
 'TAME, WILD " LOLOS
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 81 
 
 Scriptural injunction, "Prepare ye the way of the 
 Lord, make straight his path before him " ; more 
 than once I realized the advantage of following in 
 the footsteps of the great. 
 
 Toward the end of the day we crossed a spur of 
 the hills, and descended abruptly into the Ning-yuan 
 plain ; half concealed among the trees lay the town, 
 while off to the southeast sparkled the water of the 
 lake noted by Marco Polo. As we sat resting for a 
 few moments at a tea-house, I saw galloping towards 
 us two horsemen, Europeans, the first I had seen for 
 nearly three weeks. They turned out to be Mr. Well- 
 wood and Dr. Humphreys, of the American Baptist 
 Mission, who had ridden out to make me welcome. 
 An hour later we crossed the parade ground outside 
 the city gate, and shortly, turning in by a building of 
 unmistakable European architecture, found ourselves 
 in the mission compound. It was most delightful to 
 be again among my own kind, and the three days 
 spent in Ning-yuan while I was reorganizing my little 
 caravan for the next stage were very enjoyable, bar- 
 ring the excessive heat. 
 
 Ning-yuan-fu is the largest town in this part of 
 Szechuan, having a population of perhaps fifty thou- 
 sand. It is surrounded by a well-built wall, high and 
 broad and nearly three miles in length. Within are 
 few buildings of interest, due perhaps to the fact that 
 about fifty years ago it was almost demolished by an
 
 82 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 earthquake. According to tradition, the same thing 
 happened in the early part of the Ming period, when 
 the town, which, so it is said, then stood in the hollow 
 where the lake now lies, was first shaken by an earth- 
 quake and then overwhelmed by a rush of water 
 from underground. Later a new city was built on the 
 present site. If the natives are to be believed, the 
 ruins of the drowned city may still be seen on calm 
 days lying at the bottom of the lake, while after a 
 storm beds and chairs of strange patterns are some- 
 times found floating about on the water. 
 
 Even this remote corner of China shows the influ- 
 ence of the new movement, and Western ideas are 
 making their way. Something had been done to im- 
 prove the city schools, and I can testify to the desire 
 of the military force stationed at Ning-yiian to form 
 itself on European models, for the morning's sleep 
 was broken by the vigorous bugle practice of the band, 
 and at every turn one met soldiers, marching along 
 with a good deal of vim. The large parade ground 
 was given over in the afternoon to the testing and 
 speeding of ponies. We rode out there one day, and 
 I was pleased to see that the interest and wise ways 
 of the missionaries in horseflesh were much appre- 
 ciated by the owners of the ponies, men of a class not 
 easily reached by the ordinary channels of mission 
 work. 
 
 As my contract with the Yunnan hong was only to
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 83 
 
 Ning-yiian-fu, it was necessary to make new arrange- 
 ments here. My old men had expressed a wish to go 
 on with me, but in the end only one did so, the others 
 disliking the detour to Tachienlu which they knew I 
 had in mind. Moreover, it would have been necessary 
 for them to register in the King-yuan hong, which 
 they were not anxious to do, nor was the hong anx- 
 ious to have them. So I let them go, well contented 
 with their "wine money," which was, indeed, out- 
 rageously large. Soon after starting from Yunnan-fu 
 I had realized that the men were inclined to ask for a 
 day's halt more frequently than I liked, as I was anx- 
 ious to push ahead, knowing that the spring rains 
 were shortly due. I did not know then the custom of 
 the road, which decrees no payment at all if it is the 
 coolies who insist on stopping, although a small pay- 
 ment, usually five cents gold, is the rule for each day 
 of halt for your convenience. So I felt that my only 
 check upon the men was to hold out a reward. Ac- 
 cordingly I offered them a definite tip and a good one, 
 if they would get me to Ning-yuan-fu at a certain 
 day, which they did, making the journey, as I learned 
 later, simply in the ordinary time. I was advised not 
 to pay them the sum promised, as they were profiting 
 by my ignorance, and it might make me trouble after- 
 wards. But I reasoned that my ignorance was my 
 own fault ; they had not asked, I had offered the re- 
 ward, and I was sure the evil of a broken promise was
 
 84 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 greater than any bad precedent. So the men got their 
 tip, and I am certain I gained by the reputation I thus 
 acquired of keeping my word. I never again gave 
 such rewards, but I always had good service. 
 
 I was sorry to see the Yunnan men go ; they were 
 sturdy, willing fellows, quick to learn my ways. In 
 particular, one of my chair coolies, the big fellow 
 called Liu, I should have been glad to keep on, in 
 spite of unexpected revelations at Ning-yiian. He 
 had made the trip from Yunnan with Mr. Wellwood 
 a few weeks earlier, behaving well, but after receiv- 
 ing his pay he got gloriously drunk and was expelled 
 from the inn, whereupon he turned up at the mission, 
 still drunk. As he was not taken in, he proceeded to 
 tear up the chapel palings and make himself a nuis- 
 ance. So after repeated warnings he was turned over 
 to the police, who shut him up for a night and then 
 gave him a whipping. Probably he had learned a les- 
 son, for he made me no bother. This was the only 
 case within my own knowledge of a coolie's giving 
 trouble through drinking. Out-of-the-way travel in 
 the East is much simpler for being among non-drink- 
 ing people. Years ago I made a canoeing trip in north- 
 ern Maine with two friends. Almost we were forced 
 to rob the traditional cradle and grave to secure guides 
 warranted sober the only sort safe for a party of 
 women ; but in the East that question is scarcely con- 
 sidered, and personally I have never had any difficulty.
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 85 
 
 The men that I took on at King-yuan were on the 
 whole younger and smaller than the Yunnan men, 
 but they too did their work well. The new fu t'ou was 
 a Chengtu man of a type quite unlike the others, tall, 
 slender, well made, and with decidedly good features. 
 He seemed young for his post, but soon showed himself 
 quite equal to the task of keeping the men up to the 
 mark, and of meeting any difficulty that arose. 
 
 To my surprise I was able to buy oil for our lan- 
 terns on the street here. One does not think of the 
 Standard Oil Company as a missionary agency, but 
 it has certainly done a great deal to light up the dark 
 corners of China, morally as well as physically, by pro- 
 viding the people with a cheap way of lighting their 
 houses. Formerly when darkness fell, there was noth- 
 ing to do but gamble and smoke. Now the industrious 
 Chinese can ply his trade as late as he chooses. 
 
 I was sorry to say farewell to my kind hosts, but it 
 was good to get away from the trying heat of N ing- 
 yuan plain, all the more oppressive because of the 
 confined limits of the mission quarters set in the 
 heart of the city. The only escape for the missionaries 
 during the hot months was to a temple on one of the 
 surrounding hills. I was glad to learn that land had 
 been secured at a little distance from the present 
 compound for more spacious accommodations. People 
 at home do not realize the difficulty of getting fresh 
 air and exercise in a Chinese town. Walking inside
 
 86 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 the walls is almost impossible because of the dirt and 
 crowds, while near the city all unoccupied land is 
 usually given over to graves. In Ning-yiian really 
 the only chance for exercise short of a half-day's ex- 
 cursion, perhaps, was on the city wall, where I had a 
 delightful ride one afternoon. 
 
 It was the morning of April 29, when we finally 
 started, my caravan being now increased to seventeen 
 men, as I had advanced the interpreter to a three- 
 bearer chair and given his old one to the cook, who 
 as a Szechuan man should have been able to walk. 
 But he seemed hardly up to it, in fact he gave me 
 the impression of an elderly man, although he owned 
 to forty-one years only. It needs a trained eye, I 
 imagine, to judge of the age of men of an alien race. 
 
 On passing out from the suburbs of the town, 
 charmingly embowered in fruit orchards, we struck 
 across the open, treeless plain. There was little land 
 that could be cultivated that was not under cultiva- 
 tion, but as yet the fields lay bare and baked in the 
 burning sun, waiting the belated rain, as this part of 
 the valley cannot be irrigated, owing to the lie of the 
 land. Rain fell the first night, and after that neither 
 the soil nor I could complain of dryness. Our first stop 
 was at Li-chou, a small, comfortable town at the head 
 of the valley, with a bad inn. It, not Ning-yiian, 
 which lies a little off the main trail, is the centre 
 of the carrying business between Yunnan and the
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 87 
 
 north, and from this time on, we found the village 
 population everywhere chiefly occupied as carrier 
 coolies. 
 
 Our first day from Li-chou was a short stage, and 
 we had a long, leisurely tiffin at Sung-lin, where there 
 was an exceptionally good inn. The proprietor was 
 away, but his wife, who was in charge, seemed very 
 competent and friendly, and took me into their pri- 
 vate rooms, fairly clean and airy, and quite spacious. 
 In one was a large, grave-shaped mound of cement- 
 like substance. On inquiry I learned that it enclosed 
 the coffin and body of the mother of the proprietor. 
 She had been dead a year, but the body could not 
 receive final burial until his return. The Chinese cus- 
 tom of keeping unburied their dead awaiting a pro- 
 pitious moment strikes one as most unpleasant and 
 unwholesome, but the worst consequences are usually 
 avoided by hermetically sealing the ponderous coffin. 
 In Canton the House of the Dead is visited by all 
 travellers. It is a great stretch of small buildings set 
 in flower gardens, each room commanding a definite 
 rent, and usually occupied by the waiting dead, whose 
 fancied wants are meantime carefully supplied. The 
 dead hand rests heavy on China. Not merely is much 
 valuable land given over to graves, and the hills de- 
 nuded of forest to make the five-inch coffin boards, 
 but the daily order of life is often unduly sacrificed 
 to the departed.
 
 88 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 On my way from Calcutta to Hong Kong there 
 joined us at Singapore the Chinese Consul-General 
 at that place. He was returning with his family to 
 Canton to attend the funeral of his mother. In talk 
 with him I learned that he had been one of that 
 famous group of students who came to America in 
 the seventies, only to be suddenly recalled by the 
 Chinese Government. He had since acted as Secre- 
 tary to the Chinese Legation in Washington, and 
 was quite at home in Western ways. In his dress he 
 combined very effectively both Chinese and occi- 
 dental symbols of mourning, his white coat-sleeve 
 being adorned with a band of black crape, while in 
 the long black queue he wore braided the white 
 mourning thread of China. He expected to be at home 
 for some months, and during that time, so he told 
 me, it would be unsuitable for him to engage in any 
 sort of worldly business. 
 
 We were now leaving behind the close cultivation of 
 the Chien-ch'ang; the valley grew narrower, hemmed 
 in by higher and more barren mountains, but the wild 
 roses made beautiful every turn. One village that we 
 passed was quite surrounded by a hedge of roses sev- 
 eral feet high, and all in full bloom. My second night 
 from Ning-yiian-fu was not much better than the first, 
 for the inn at Lu-ku, a rather important little town, 
 was most uncomfortable ; but a delightful hour's rest 
 and quiet on the river bank before entering the town
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 89 
 
 freshened me up so much that the night did not mat- 
 ter. One march to the north of Lu-ku, up the valley 
 of the Anning, lay the district town of Mien-ning, 
 reached by a rough trail that finally wandered off into 
 the inextricable gorges of the Ta Tu Ho. It was in 
 these wild denies that the last contests of the Taiping 
 rebellion were fought. I looked longingly up the val- 
 ley, but my way turned off to the right, following the 
 pack-road to the ferry at Fulin. At once on starting 
 the next morning we passed out of the main valley 
 into a narrow gorge with precipitous sides opening 
 from the east. The trail wound upwards along the 
 mountain-face, often hewn out of the rock and scarcely 
 more than five feet wide, and at one point it was 
 barred effectually by heavy gates. They opened to 
 us, but not on that day half a century ago when the 
 Taiping leader, Shih Ta-k'ai, failing to force his way 
 through, turned back to meet defeat in the wilds above 
 Mien-ning-hsien. 
 
 All along the road we met signs of our nearness to 
 the country of the Lolos. There was much unculti- 
 vated land, and the population seemed scanty, but 
 officials and soldiers were numerous, while guard- 
 houses dominated the trail at short intervals. The 
 village type was not always pure Chinese, and occa- 
 sionally we met people unmistakably of another race. 
 At Teng-hsiang-ying, or "Strong-walled Camp," 
 where we stopped for the night, both soldiers and
 
 90 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Lolos were much in evidence. We were here about 
 two thousand one hundred feet below the summit of 
 the great pass through which the raiders in times not 
 far past made their way into fertile Chien-ch'ang. 
 After getting settled in the inn, I went for a walk, 
 carefully guarded by two soldiers especially detailed 
 for the purpose by the Yamen. In one alley I noticed 
 Lolo women spinning in the doorways, and with the 
 aid of the soldiers, who seemed to be on very friendly 
 terms with them, I succeeded in getting a picture of 
 two. In feature and colour they might have passed 
 for Italians, and their dress was more European than 
 Chinese in cut. On their heads they wore the Tarn 
 o' Shanter-like cap of black stuff, common among 
 these people, bound on with their long braids, and 
 their coats were of the usual felt. Their skirts, home- 
 spun, were made with what we used to call a Span- 
 ish flounce. According to Baber, the Lolo petticoat 
 is of great significance. No one may go among the 
 independent Lolos safely save in the guardianship of 
 a member of the tribe, and a woman is as good a 
 guardian as a man. Before setting out she puts on an 
 extra petticoat, and the traveller thus escorted is sa- 
 cred. But if the guarantee is not respected she takes 
 off the garment, spreading it on the ground, and 
 there it remains, telling to all the outrage that has 
 been committed, and appealing to Heaven for re- 
 dress. Altogether the women that I saw had a rather
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 91 
 
 attractive, feminine look, and their manner, though 
 timid, was not cringing. People who know them best 
 have a good word for the Lolos, but few Europeans 
 have come much in contact with them. Those I saw 
 looked miserably poor. Missionaries declare that the 
 hand of the official is heavy upon them, and of course 
 the persistent, hard-working Chinese are certain to 
 have acquired the best land. 
 
 The next day we crossed the Hsiao Hsiang Ling, 
 or "Little Elephant Pass," fortunately in fine weather. 
 The approach from the south was very beautiful. 
 For a number of li our road led through a deep, nar- 
 row gorge, following up a fine rocky stream, The 
 flowers and blossoming shrubs were wonderful ; masses 
 of white and of pink azaleas clothed the lower slopes, 
 and there appeared now for the first time a bush bear- 
 ing long, feather-like sprays of fragrant white blooms. 
 From time to time we passed a guard-house, and 
 soldiers were everywhere, some on guard, others 
 practising exercises, others lounging. At one place 
 a group had gathered about a fellow who was play- 
 ing rather nicely an instrument resembling a mando- 
 lin. He seemed gratified at my interest, and readily 
 repeated his music for me. As seen in passing, the 
 guard-houses looked clean and substantial, vastly 
 superior to the ordinary Chinese abode. But the 
 country had a rather forbidding aspect as we marched 
 farther up the valley, fit setting for deeds of outrage
 
 92 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and bloodshed ; its character seemed symbolized in 
 the head of a Lolo robber set up by the wayside. 
 
 The final climb to the pass was over gentle, grassy 
 slopes. At the top, nearly ten thousand feet above 
 sea level, the way led through a strongly fortified 
 post where I stopped for a few moments to enjoy the 
 wide view, northwest to the nearer mountains of the 
 Tibetan range, and east to the dark peaks of the 
 Ta Liang Shan. On the northern side of the pass 
 the descent is long and tiring, a succession of steep 
 zigzags and rocky staircases. At the time of day when 
 I crossed, the lines of carriers and baggage ponies 
 were almost continuous. There were guard-houses at 
 intervals of three li, and at each a special detail of 
 two soldiers came out, and, saluting me properly, fell 
 into position, one in front and one behind, to be re- 
 placed at the next post by two others. As we de- 
 scended to lower levels the valley widened out slightly, 
 giving room for a few hard-wrung fields surrounded 
 by broad stone walls reminding one of New England, 
 and now and then we passed a lonely farmhouse built 
 of stones and enclosed in a rather ineffective defence 
 of wattles. But villages were few, hardly more than 
 hamlets that had grown up about the military posts. 
 All were walled, and where the highway passed 
 through the village, dividing it in two, each half was 
 enclosed in its own high wall of mud and stones. 
 Moreover, many of the houses were of fortress-like
 
 A MEMORIAL ARCH. SZECHUAN 
 
 FORTIFIED VILLAGE IN THE CHIEX-CH'ANG VALLEY
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 93 
 
 construction, three stories high, and with only a few 
 slits for windows. Once or twice we passed through 
 an open bazaar strongly walled and with a fortified 
 gate at either end, serving as a brief resting-place for 
 the caravans hurrying over this dangerous stretch of 
 road. 
 
 As we travelled northward we saw fewer of the fine 
 stone bridges of the south ; the construction was now 
 generally of wood, not unlike in outline the disfigur- 
 ing structures of New England, but improved by open 
 sides and a picturesque curly roof of tiles. Usually 
 they were approached by a flight of steps, showing 
 conclusively, if proof were needed, that there were 
 no wheeled vehicles to consider. And, indeed, traffic 
 generally was of limited character after we left the 
 pass. Occasionally we overtook coolies hurrying 
 along with their precious loads of white wax insects, 
 or bending under long, thick pine or cypress boards, 
 sometimes towering high above their heads or else 
 strapped across their shoulders, forcing them to move 
 crab-fashion along the narrow trails. On inquiry I 
 learned that deeply embedded in the soil of the hills 
 are found huge trees, rows of sprouts marking their 
 location. These are dug up with much effort and sawn 
 into boards which are in great request for the pon- 
 derous Chinese coffins. It would seem as though the 
 supply must be inexhaustible, for when Sir Alexander 
 Hosie came this way, a generation ago, he noted the
 
 94 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 same traffic and received the same explanation. With 
 the prohibition of the poppy, the region has for the 
 moment little export trade, while the imports seem 
 to consist mainly of military supplies for the Chien- 
 ch'ang garrisons. However, the road is in unusually 
 good condition, for the whole way from Teng-hsiang- 
 ying to Yiieh-hsi, our next stop, a distance of perhaps 
 thirty-five miles, is well paved with broad flags. As 
 we drew near to the town the valley opened a little, 
 affording a glimpse of a snow peak to the north, while 
 toward the southeast we look up a narrow gorge into 
 Lololand, the border being but some fifteen miles 
 away. This is almost the only break in the flanking 
 hills that wall in the Forbidden Land. Yiieh-hsi itself 
 lies in the centre of a rock-strewn plain broken by a 
 few rice- and maize-fields, and is important as a mili- 
 tary post guarding the trade route against this easy 
 way of attack. The best room of the inn smelt to 
 heaven, but on investigation I found an open loft 
 which proved very possible after ejecting a few fowls. 
 The following day our march led us through a 
 narrow valley bare of people and cultivation. Follow- 
 ing this was a welcome change to steep climbs over 
 grass-covered slopes broken by picturesque ravines. 
 I tried to get a picture of a coolie, bearing a huge 
 nine-foot-long coffin plank, whom we overtook on the 
 trail. A handful of cash and cigarettes won his con- 
 sent, but in spite of my men's efforts to calm his fears,
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 95 
 
 the poor fellow cringed and trembled so, as I got my 
 camera into position, that I gave it up. I felt as I 
 might feel if I kicked a dumb animal. 
 
 Our night's stop was at Pao-an-ying, like so 
 many other hamlets of this region, little more than 
 a camp-village, and showing its origin in the ter- 
 mination " ying " or "jin," meaning regiment. My 
 room at the inn looked out directly on the street, and 
 there was neither quiet nor privacy to be had, so I 
 went out for a walk, escorted by a soldier and a coolie. 
 Discovering a secluded screened place in a graveyard, 
 I fell asleep on the top of a tomb, and my men near 
 by did the same ; but presently I was awakened by 
 Jack's barking, to find myself the centre of a crowd 
 of some fifty men silently watching me, and down 
 the hillside I saw others coming, so I gave it up and 
 took a stroll through the town, inspecting the pro- 
 vision shops. 
 
 We were off the next morning in the dark. At first 
 the road was wild and picturesque. The track was 
 unusually good, and steep, well-constructed zigzags 
 carried us up and down the hills. Later the valley 
 opened, and we ascended gradually over beautiful 
 slopes gay with rhododendron and iris. The clouds 
 above the mountains were very fine, but presently 
 rain came on, continuing off and on all day. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we came in sight of Haitang, 
 a walled town perched picturesquely on the side of a
 
 96 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 hill. A temple outside the wall looked attractive, and 
 I should have visited it had it not been for the rain 
 which now set in in good earnest. So, instead, I in- 
 spected the inn, which seemed unusually interesting. 
 There was the ordinary entrance court roofed over, 
 and behind that an inner court open to the sky and 
 surrounded by galleried buildings. Off from this led 
 a long, high passage into which opened a number of 
 superior rooms. Mine was quite elaborately furnished 
 with carved bedstead and chairs and tables, and best 
 of all, it had a door opening directly on to the city 
 wall, where I could step out and get a breath of 
 fresh air free from observation. 
 
 Here I had my first experience of the " squeeze." 
 On directing the interpreter to give the fu t'ou the 
 cjolies' pork money, I learned that on the previous 
 occasion the man had kept an undue proportion of 
 it. Apparently a certain squeeze was regarded as 
 legitimate, but he had transgressed the accepted 
 bounds. I hardly knew how to meet the difficulty. Of 
 course I could have paid the coolies directly, but it 
 was most desirable to maintain the fu t'ou's author- 
 ity over them. Finally, in true Chinese fashion, the 
 interpreter worked out a scheme by which the fu t'ou's 
 " face " might be saved, and yet the coolies not 
 be defrauded. Going out into the court where the 
 men were lounging, he called loudly to the fu t'ou to 
 come for the coolies' money, naming the sum I in-
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 97 
 
 tended to give, about one hundred cash to a man. In 
 the face of this there was nothing for the fu t'ou to do 
 but give to each his rightful share, which he did with 
 a very sulky air. Afterwards I had a talk with the 
 man, telling him that my idea of a good fu t'ou was 
 one who kept the men up to their work, and at the 
 same time did not bully or mulct them of their hard- 
 earned money. Such a man would get a good reward 
 at the end. My reputation for lavishness stood me 
 here in great stead, for henceforth there was no diffi- 
 culty on this score. I might be " squeezed," but at 
 least my coolies were not. The fu t'ou, however, tried 
 to get even with the man who told, by discharging 
 him. Fortunately I learned of this, again through 
 the interpreter, and put a stop to it. The idea of the 
 squeeze seems to be ingrained in the Chinese. How 
 difficult it is to eradicate was shown by the delight of 
 a missionary at Chung-king over the low price for 
 which his trusty Christian clerk had secured a boat 
 for me. For once he felt sure no commission could 
 have been taken. 
 
 During all this part of my trip I carried no coined 
 silver, only rough lumps of bullion of varying size, 
 converting them into cash as I needed. The rate of 
 exchange varied from place to place, and I was some- 
 times warned to put off visiting the money-changers 
 until the next town. Of course the visitor stands to 
 lose anyway, and I am sure that in the course of a
 
 98 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 long journey through China you would see your 
 money vanish in the mere process of change, quite 
 aside from the money you spent. 
 
 Rain fell all the next day, but it could not take from 
 the charm of the road, which led much of the time 
 along the bottom of a deep, narrow gorge, the steep 
 sides clothed to the very top with tropical green 
 flecked with splendid splashes of pink and white 
 azaleas, while by the side of the path were masses of 
 blue iris, and of small yellow and red flowers. We 
 reached our night's resting-place, P'ing-i-p'u, early 
 in the afternoon, and in spite of the rain I went for a 
 walk. By dint of peremptory commands, reenforced 
 by the rain, I shook off my military escort, who for 
 the last few marches had dogged my steps at every 
 turn, moving when I moved, stopping when I stopped. 
 To be sure, they had been very thoughtful of my 
 comfort, helping me in and out of my chair, gather- 
 ing the new flowers which appeared each day, keep- 
 ing up a brazier fire in my room when it was damp, 
 but I was tired of being treated as either a suspect or 
 a royal personage, and as we were now well beyond 
 the limit of Lolo raids I demanded the freedom of 
 being alone. I found quiet in an overgrown grave- 
 yard, with charming views down stream and up the 
 near hillsides cultivated in tiny scallops to the very 
 top, although the slopes were so steep that each plot 
 was shored up with a strong stone wall to keep the
 
 THE CHIEN-CH'ANG 99 
 
 crop of maize and buckwheat from slipping down 
 into the river. 
 
 As we passed out of the village the next morning 
 at six o'clock we heard the hum of the boys in the 
 government school already at work. Apparently 
 Young China was wasting no time. For perhaps 
 twenty li we followed down a fine stream, the way 
 rather dangerous from the rocks which now and then 
 detached themselves from the steep overhanging hill- 
 sides. After a time an ascent of one thousand feet 
 brought us in sight of the Ta Tu, which we reached 
 some time after noon by a gradual descent of two 
 thousand feet, through a narrow valley to Ta-shu- 
 p'u. Fine clumps of bamboo and groups of palm now 
 cheered our sight, and fruit of several sorts cherries, 
 pears, loquats was becoming abundant. It was very 
 refreshing, although scarcely of a fine quality, and 
 usually gathered before it was ripe. The place looked 
 quiet and attractive, but half a century ago the last 
 scenes of the Taiping rebellion were enacted here, 
 when the remnants of Shih Ta-k'ai's force were sur- 
 rounded and slaughtered. 
 
 Later in the day I went for a stroll to inspect the 
 shops, accompanied by my interpreter, and it was on 
 this occasion that I met with the only instance of un- 
 friendliness (that I recognized) in all my journeying 
 in West China. At one shop I noticed an interesting 
 bronze dragon. The interpreter, who had a rather
 
 ioo A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 objectionable habit of fingering the wares, began ex- 
 amining it. Thereupon the merchant came forward 
 and snatched it from his hands, and when we passed 
 that way again on our return, he came out before his 
 shop and waved us off vigorously with his flapping 
 sleeves. The interpreter said that the man disliked 
 foreigners, but admitted that he did not wish to have 
 his things handled.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 
 
 once the sun was shining gloriously as we 
 descended the one long street of Ta-Shu-p'u, 
 lined with food-shops, to the ferry across the Ta Tu 
 Ho, here about six hundred feet wide. Unlike the 
 crossing of the Yangtse at Lung-kai, where we were 
 the only ones to be ferried over, we found ourselves 
 here in a crowd of coolies and ponies impatiently 
 waiting their turn, for we were now on a main trav- 
 elled road. The two great flat-bottomed boats were 
 loaded to the brim, and the crossing was safely ac- 
 complished to the tune of much shouting and kick- 
 ing (by the ponies). Sitting at ease in my chair I en- 
 joyed the grand views up and down the river, which 
 here swings out from the cliffs in a splendid curve. 
 Above and below the ferry the Ta Tu runs through a 
 wild, little-known region. Few trails cross the pre- 
 cipitous mountains that hem in its turbulent waters, 
 which are navigable for short distances only by tim- 
 ber rafts, and even on these the dangers of the journey 
 are so great that the owners of the timber are expected 
 to bind themselves to provide coffins in case of a fatal 
 accident.
 
 102 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 On the farther side we landed on a stretch of shingle, 
 across which we picked our way for a mile to the pros- 
 perous trading centre of Fulin, lying on the right bank 
 of the Liu Sha, or " River of Flowing Sand," a small 
 stream flowing into the Ta Tu from the north. Our 
 path led outside the town on the top of a narrow earth 
 embankment, which bordered an irrigating ditch car- 
 ried along the side of the hill. I should gladly have 
 got off, but there was no chance to dismount save 
 into the water on the one hand or into the valley 
 thirty feet down on the other. But I think you can 
 trust the Yunnan pony anywhere he is willing to go, 
 and mine did not hesitate. In fact, he never balked 
 at anything asked of him save once at a shaky 
 "parao," or footway, constructed along the face of 
 the cliff on timbers thrust into holes bored in the solid 
 rock, and another time when he refused a jump from 
 a boggy rice-field to the top of a crumbling wall hardly 
 a foot wide with another bog on the other side. 
 
 Fulin was crowded with coming and going coolies 
 and I could hardly force my way through, but one 
 gets used to staring crowds, and I had long since 
 abandoned the practice of taking refuge in my chair 
 on entering a town, save at the largest ones. Then it 
 was certainly pleasanter and perhaps safer to make 
 my way through the throng enthroned high on the 
 shoulders of my coolies, but in the villages I walked 
 or rode my pony as chance served. Even in the
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 103 
 
 smallest places our entrance was the signal for an 
 uproar. The scores of dogs big, gaunt pariahs 
 that infested every village, greeted us as we passed 
 through the gate with a chorus of barks, sending the 
 word down the line. To his credit be it said, Jack 
 paid little attention to them, tittupping along, head 
 up, tail up, only when they came too close turning 
 on them with a flash of white teeth that sent the 
 cowardly brutes flying and brought cries of delight 
 from the village folk who crowded nearer to inspect 
 the strange dog, so small, so brave, and so friendly. 
 Seen from within, Fulin was not attractive and I 
 escaped outside leaving my men to get their break- 
 fast, which they generally had at about nine o'clock, 
 for the Szechuan order of day is not like that of 
 Yunnan. We were on the road often before six 
 o'clock, and my cook always succeeded in getting 
 me some tea before starting, but the coolies fasted 
 until eight or after, when they stopped for a hearty 
 breakfast. At noon there was usually a second long 
 halt, this time for me and the pony, but the coolies 
 took nothing more save the hourly cups of tea until 
 we reached our night's stopping-place about the 
 middle of the afternoon. The start at dawn was de- 
 lightful ; less so getting into the town with half an 
 afternoon before me, and I made it the rule to stop a 
 mile or so outside the town for a nap in peace and 
 quiet, but the quiet was hard to find. Generally there
 
 io 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 was a retired nook not too far from the trail, most 
 times a graveyard, but then came the difficulty of 
 getting there unobserved, for if seen we were sure to 
 be tracked. Oh, the races I have run, playing hide- 
 and-seek with the crowd, stealing under a village 
 wall like a thief, hiding behind a little shrine, and 
 the end was always the same, to be wakened from 
 my first nap by Jack barking at a large blue spot a 
 little distance off, which slowly resolved itself into a 
 stolid line of villagers. 
 
 For a few miles we followed up the left bank of the 
 Liu Sha, whose waters were turbid with the red soil 
 of Szechuan. The fertile bottom lands were carefully 
 cultivated with rice, and on the higher ground maize 
 and sugar-cane were growing. Dotted about the 
 fields were clumps of mulberry and orange trees, and 
 the flanks of the enclosing mountains were covered 
 with a sparse growth of oak and pine. 
 
 After a time we climbed by a long, steep rock stair- 
 case to another valley some fifteen hundred feet 
 above the level of Fulin and into cooler weather and 
 clearer air. Just before entering Han Yuan Kai, 
 where we spent the night, we passed under a very 
 beautiful " pailou," or memorial arch, built of stone 
 and elaborately carved with spirited figures repre- 
 senting historic scenes. The workmanship and va- 
 riety of these arches are very remarkable. They 
 abound all over Szechuan, especially in the Chengtu
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 105 
 
 plain, and usually commemorate the good deeds of 
 an official (his best act, perhaps, was setting up this 
 memorial to himself), or the virtues of some woman 
 whose merit lay almost invariably in many years, or 
 many children, or above all in remaining a widow. 
 I have heard of a pailou in Kwangtung province in 
 honour of a woman marked out among women for 
 her years, her goodness, and above all for her many 
 descendants, who numbered six sons, forty grand- 
 sons, one hundred and twenty-one great-grandsons 
 and two great-great-grandsons. 
 
 Han Yuan Kai is on the mandarin road that con- 
 nects Chengtu and Ya-chou with the frontier. Here 
 we entered a new magistracy, and it was necessary 
 to send to Ch'ing Ch'i, the district headquarters, for a 
 fresh relay of soldiers. One of those who had come 
 with me from Ta-shu-p'u started at once on our ar- 
 rival at Han Yuan Kai about the middle of the after- 
 noon, and made the journey, twenty-five li each way, 
 to Ch'ing Ch'i-hsien and back before night, bringing 
 with him the two men who were to go on with me. 
 Truly the West China man is no weakling. 
 
 During the next day we were following the great 
 tea-road, the road by which most of the twelve mil- 
 lion pounds of brick tea consumed by the guzzling 
 Tibetans is carried to the frontier market at Tachien- 
 lu. At all hours of the day straggling lines of men or 
 ponies or mules were in sight, toiling along under
 
 io6 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 their precious burdens. Between Ya-chou, the start- 
 ing-point of this traffic, and Tachienlu there are two 
 high passes to cross, seven thousand feet above the 
 level where the journey begins, and the whole length 
 of the road is a wearisome succession of ups and 
 downs. And the loads carried are extraordinary. 
 Baron von Richthofen says, " There is probably no 
 road in the world where such heavy loads are carried 
 by man across high mountains." The oblong pack- 
 age, called "pao," in which the tea is made up, 
 weighs perhaps eighteen pounds, and, according to 
 the German traveller, ten or eleven form an average 
 load. But Baber declares that he had often seen a 
 coolie carrying eighteen pao, and on one occasion a 
 man with a load of twenty-two, certainly equivalent 
 to four hundred pounds. I saw nothing like that, but 
 I passed many a poor wretch sweating under a bur- 
 den of two hundred and twenty-five or two hundred 
 and fifty pounds. Day after day they creep along, 
 rarely covering more than six or seven miles a day. 
 Every four hundred yards they rest, but the loads are 
 taken off only at noon and night. At other times they 
 relieve themselves for a moment from the intolerable 
 strain by placing an iron-shod crutch under the load. 
 On the march they carry this in the hand, tapping 
 the ground as they go, and all along the road the 
 granite pavement is worn into holes from the taps of 
 centuries. The load, which is fastened to a framework
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 107 
 
 attached to the carrier's back, towers high over his 
 head, and is usually surmounted by his wide-brimmed 
 hat fastened at such an angle as to give him pro- 
 tection against rain and sun. Even Chinese ingen- 
 uity has failed to devise a way by which he can wear 
 it properly on his head. Some of them fanned them- 
 selves vigorously as they walked, with respectable 
 black, old-lady fans, and the contrast with their hard, 
 begrimed faces and sturdy frames was very comical. 
 The men looked worn and exhausted, and their work 
 is killing, although I believe they outlast the chair- 
 bearers ; but they were patient and cheerful like the 
 rest, ready to laugh and share their cold lunch of 
 corn-cake with the little foreign dog who begged so 
 prettily. 
 
 I wondered how many of them were opium smok- 
 ers. To the untrained eye the signs were not very 
 plain. Among my coolies was one whom I dubbed 
 " Mercury," so untiring and fleet of foot was he, car- 
 rying his load of eighty pounds or so with apparent 
 ease, and showing much pride in keeping near my 
 chair, while usually the carrier coolies lagged far be- 
 hind. I was told he was the worst smoker of the whole 
 lot In my caravan of seventeen men, seven, includ- 
 ing the fu t'ou, used opium. As a rule they limited 
 themselves to one pipe at night, while five years ago 
 travellers complained that a long halt at noon was de- 
 manded by the smokers. The fu t'ou was making a
 
 io8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 valiant effort, with the aid of anti-opium pills, to break 
 off the habit; it was getting too expensive, he said, 
 especially for a married man. In a number of towns 
 places were pointed out where these pills were sold 
 by the Government. Those who know, say they are 
 often as pernicious as the drug itself. 
 
 The majority of my men, eleven to be precise, 
 were married, and eight had children. I was interested 
 to note the discreet and indirect way in which this in- 
 formation was procured for me by the interpreter. 
 Such matters are not mentioned in public in China, 
 any more than in India. 
 
 My own chair-men, so it happened, were all gay 
 young bachelors, ready to squander their earnings on 
 anything that took their fancy, beads or tobacco, 
 hats or cakes, especially cakes. There was a particu- 
 lar sort, very sweet with pink frosting, that was a great 
 delicacy, costing two cents Mexican apiece. I had to 
 speak pretty emphatically to one of the men who was 
 trying to win Jack's favour by feeding him with the 
 costly cookies. " But the little dog likes them," he 
 said. 
 
 The Chinese generally, unlike the Hindu, is very 
 ready to spend on his food if he has the money. He 
 will live on less than nothing if put to it, but given 
 the chance he does not stint himself. At short in- 
 tervals on the road were tea-houses and restaurants 
 of the simpler sort especially planned to cater to the
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 109 
 
 coolie class, but they were often not unattractive. 
 Sometimes they were substantial buildings open to 
 the street, and set out with tables on which were 
 ranged dishes of vegetables and curries and cakes, 
 while in the background was a big cauldron of rice 
 cooking over the fire. Occasionally the tea-house 
 was nothing more than a section of the highway 
 roofed over with mats or leafy boughs. On a handy 
 bench was placed a basin of steaming water for the 
 visitor to bathe hands and face before drawing up to 
 the table. It gave me a pleasant surprise to see the 
 Chinese making of the daily repast a jolly social func- 
 tion, instead of each squatting on the ground in a 
 corner, devouring his solitary bowl of rice as is the 
 fashion of most Eastern peoples. 
 
 I found much interest in noting the food of my 
 men, the variety and cost of it, and I whiled away 
 many an hour of waiting, in questioning innkeepers 
 and provision dealers. A good bowl of rice, called 
 " cat's head " and costing twenty cash, or one cent 
 gold, was usually thefltice de resistance. This in hand, 
 a man fished out with his chopsticks tidbits from vari- 
 ous dishes set out on the table, beans, cabbage, 
 lettuce, peppers, etc., all cooked. Good hot boiled po- 
 tatoes in their jackets were sometimes to be had at 
 four cash each, or a bowl of stewed turnips at the 
 same price. Beans in some shape were an important 
 part of every menu. You could get a basin of fresh
 
 no A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 beans for ten cash, dried bean-cake for five, beans 
 cooked and strained to a stiff batter for making soup 
 for seven cash the ounce, while a large square of 
 white bean-cake was sold for one copper cent. A 
 saucer of spun rice or millet, looking much like ver- 
 micelli, with a seasoning of vinegar, cost five cash. 
 Bowls of powdered grain mixed with sugar were much 
 in demand. So, too, for those who could afford them, 
 large round cakes at thirty cash for two. Ground 
 pepper (the Chinese are very fond of pepper in any 
 form) was sold at one cash the tiny -package, and 
 sugar for three cash the square inch. Almost every 
 coolie had tucked in about his load a large flat cake 
 of coarse corn-meal or maize mixed with water, which 
 he munched as he went along. In Tachienlu, my sup- 
 ply of biscuits having given out, I had my cook buy 
 some of these ; split open and toasted, they were not 
 at all bad. Tea, of course, was to be had everywhere; 
 a pinch of tea-leaves in a covered cup and unstinted 
 boiling water cost from five to twenty cash a cup, and 
 most refreshing I found it. On the whole, the food 
 looked attractive, and the fact that whether liquid 
 or solid it was almost invariably boiled must have 
 much to do with saving the people from the legiti- 
 mate consequences of their sins against sanitary laws. 
 The Chinese have no principles against eating be- 
 tween meals if they can find anything to eat, and 
 there was temptation all along the road. Beside a
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD in 
 
 wayside well, under a spreading tree, would be placed 
 a small table tended perhaps only by a tiny maiden, 
 and set out with pieces of sugar-cane or twigs of lo- 
 quats or carefully counted clusters of peanuts or seeds, 
 five pieces for a cash, 
 
 Our second night from the ferry was spent at Ni 
 T'ou, a rather important frontier village, and attrac- 
 tive with picturesque red temples and pailous. A good 
 sleep in an unusually comfortable inn prepared us for 
 the stiff climb to come. The morning broke grey and 
 the clouds rested low on the mountains, but at least 
 we were spared a start in the rain. The road was so 
 steep and rough that I preferred to walk, and soon 
 getting ahead of my men I did not see them again 
 until midday, and I had a good morning all to myself 
 among the hills. Occasionally I passed through a 
 little hamlet, people and dogs all turning out to greet 
 my dog and me. Once a whole village emptied it- 
 self into the fields to show me the way up the hillside. 
 My cold lunch I ate at the head of a wild gorge by 
 a solitary shrine half buried in clumps of bushes, and 
 beautiful with masses of iris. The last part of the climb 
 to Fei Yueh Ling, or " Fly Beyond Pass," led through 
 an uninhabited glen down which rushed a fine stream 
 turning the horizontally placed wheels of a ruined 
 mill. Hurrying up the rocky zigzag I stood alone at 
 the top of the pass, nine thousand feet above the sea. 
 Before me I knew towered range upon range, peak
 
 H2 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 above peak, one of the finest views the earth affords, 
 but alas, everything was blotted out by thick white 
 clouds, and I could scarcely see ten feet away. 
 
 It was maddening to think of the wonders that 
 lay behind that impenetrable wall, but there was 
 nothing to do but to descend by a trail as steep and 
 slippery as the one by which I had just climbed, for 
 the cold, drenching mist showed no signs of lifting. 
 It was on this slope that Rockhill, the American ex- 
 plorer, met a pilgrim on his way to Lhasa. Starting 
 in the Chusan archipelago near Ning-po, he had al- 
 ready spent seven years on the way, and it would be 
 two more before he could attain his goal, which was 
 not to be wondered at, as with every two steps he 
 prostrated himself full length on the ground before 
 the little altar he carried with him. With this primi- 
 tive mountain world his act was in weird harmony, 
 but there was an incongruity almost stunning in the 
 sight of a Hindu carrying out a similar vow in one 
 of the crowded business streets of Europeanized Cal- 
 cutta. I nearly stepped on him as I came out one 
 day from the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank. 
 
 Just before reaching Hua-lin-ping, or "Phcenix" 
 Flat, where we were to spend the night, I espied across 
 the narrow valley to our right a picturesque temple 
 perched at the top of a high wooded cliff. As it was 
 still early in the afternoon, I turned off from the trail, 
 and, accompanied by the interpreter, scrambled down
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 113 
 
 the slope, gay with pink azaleas, to a charming 
 wooden bridge spanning the torrent. After a sharp 
 pull through a fine forest, we came out in front of the 
 temple, which was dedicated to Kuan Yin : by the 
 way, it is rather significant that China's favourite 
 deity is the Goddess of Mercy. The place seemed 
 deserted, and we wandered about at will. Apparently 
 extensive repairs were going on, and roofs and gods 
 alike were being refurbished. After a time an old 
 priest turned up, who took us through the timber- 
 built monastery behind the temple. Here, he told us, 
 well-to-do people of the neighbourhood often spent a 
 few weeks in summer, to escape the damp heat of the 
 valley. The practical Chinese do not hesitate to put 
 their sacred places to use, and they serve in turn for 
 schools, political gatherings, summer resorts. 
 
 I was half a mind to cry a halt, the place looked 
 so attractive, and all the more when on stepping out 
 of a door there opened before me a wonderful vision 
 of heaven-kissing mountains. While we were inside 
 the clouds had lifted, revealing the whole line of the 
 great peaks that stand as sentinels at the eastern end 
 of the vast Tibetan plateau. Westward from that 
 snow-topped line there is no low land until you reach 
 the plains of India. For a few minutes we stood spell- 
 bound, and then the clouds shut down again, leaving 
 only a glorious memory to cheer the descent through 
 a grey, dripping world.
 
 ii4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 A generation ago Hua-lin-ping was an important 
 frontier post, but to-day its broad, barrack-lined street 
 is deserted and grass-grown, for the vanguard of 
 effective Chinese occupation is steadily pushing west- 
 ward into the tribes country. We started the next 
 morning under clouds of more than one sort ; rain 
 was falling, the ma-fu, whom I had been dosing for 
 a day or two, had given out, and had to be left be- 
 hind as well as one of the coolies, and the fu t'ou 
 was cross at having to shoulder the latter's load. 
 Early on this day we again came to the Ta Tu, hav- 
 ing descended five thousand feet from the top of the 
 pass ; and for the rest of this stage and all the next 
 one we followed up the wild valley of this beautiful 
 river, which may be said to form the real geograph- 
 ical and ethnographical boundary between China 
 and Tibet. Wherever the valley opened out a little, 
 there was the invariable garden-like cultivation of the 
 Chinese ; fruit and nut trees abounded, mulberry, 
 peach, apricot, and walnut, and the fields showed 
 good crops of maize, beans, and sugar-cane. But up 
 from the narrow fertile strip of river bank towered on 
 either hand barren mountains, their precipitous gran- 
 ite sides gashed here and there by deep gorges in 
 and out of which the trail wound with sharp turns 
 and steep descents. The grey, forbidding mountains, 
 showing hardly a foothold for man or beast, tree or 
 house, matched the grey, swirling river, here unnav-
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 115 
 
 igable even for rafts. Thrust back by the land, offered 
 only a watery grave by the river, it seemed no 
 country for man to seek a home, and yet the scattered 
 Chinese hamlets were gay and full of life, and the 
 tea-houses at every turn were doing a good business. 
 
 At Leng Chi, where we stopped for breakfast, I fled 
 from the noisy restaurant to a small temple across 
 the road, its outer court rilled full of coffins, whether 
 occupied or not, I could not say. A nice old priest 
 promptly found me out, and taking me into an inner 
 room made me comfortable with cups of tea. The 
 buzz of voices told that a school was in session near 
 by, and at the request of the teacher, a good-looking 
 young man, I paid it a visit. Some twenty boys were 
 hard at work on the classics and mathematics, un- 
 disturbed by the weird-looking gods around them. 
 They seemed wide awake, and showed real disap- 
 pointment that I could not stop to see a display of 
 their skill in gymnastics. Every good-sized village 
 seems to boast a school of sorts, and not a few do 
 something for the girls. 
 
 The rain was falling as we approached Lu Ting 
 Ch'iao, and that meant a long evening cooped up in 
 a noisy, ill-smelling inn, so in desperation I took re- 
 fuge under a large tree just outside the town where 
 bushes screened me from the passers on the road. My 
 men had long since made up their minds that I was 
 rather mad, so they left me in peace, only posting one
 
 n6 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 of the soldiers in a temple near by to keep watch and 
 ward ; but there was no need, for most of the people 
 hereabouts are Tibetan, and they have little of the 
 pertinacious curiosity of the Chinese, whether because 
 of better manners or because less alert I do not know. 
 And it was well I cut short my stay in the inn, for it 
 was about the worst I had come across, as I took 
 pains to inform the landlord the next morning. But 
 there was no choice. Lu Ting Ch'iao, or the "Town 
 of the Iron Bridge," derives its importance as well as 
 its name from its location, and it was crowded to over- 
 flowing with east- and west-bound travellers, officials, 
 merchants, soldiers, coolies, for all traffic must cross 
 the Ta Tu here, the one point spanned by a bridge. 
 Indeed, according to Mr. Archibald Little, this is the 
 only bridge across any one of the many large rivers 
 that unite to form the Great River. It is of the suspen- 
 sion sort, built in 1701, in the reign of that energetic 
 ruler, Kang Hi, and is three hundred and eleven feet 
 long. The nine cables of charcoal-smelted iron that 
 compose it are anchored at the ends in the usual Chi- 
 nese fashion. On these are laid loose planks to serve 
 as a footway, while the only guard is a shaky chain 
 on either hand. When the wind swoops down the 
 gorge, as it does most afternoons, the whole structure 
 swings uncomfortably, and I wondered at the non- 
 chalance with which heavily laden coolies and ponies 
 crossed. But such as it is, this is the one connecting
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 117 
 
 link between China and Tibet, for ferrying across the 
 upper reaches of the Ta Tu is impracticable most of 
 the year. 
 
 After passing the bridge we kept up a narrow 
 trail that clung to the face of the cliff, often cut out of 
 the granite rock. There were no villages, but we 
 passed through one or two hamlets set in a small al- 
 luvial fan such as is often seen in Western Tibet, only 
 there the fan ended with a steep precipice two or three 
 hundred feet above the river, while here it sloped 
 gently down to the water's edge. 
 
 Occasionally we saw across the Ta Tu on the left 
 bank a village unmistakably Tibetan : no trees ; grey, 
 flat-roofed, fortress-like houses, often reached only by 
 a ladder ; with few signs of life to be seen even with 
 a glass, there was a forbidding aspect to these places 
 in marked contrast to the bustle of a Chinese village. 
 
 We were now skirting the lower slopes of the Ta 
 Shueh Shan, or "Great Snow Mountains," the out- 
 posts of the Tibetan plateau, but we were too hemmed 
 in to catch a glimpse of the higher ranges, save 
 once, when a break in the mountain wall afforded a 
 brief, magnificent view of the snowy peaks towering 
 more than fifteen thousand feet above our heads. 
 Then another turn in the road shut us in again be- 
 tween grey cliff and grey river and grey sky. Toward 
 the end of the day a sharp bend to the left took us 
 away from the Ta Tu into the wild gorge through
 
 n8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 which flows the Tarchendo, and with a rough scramble 
 we dropped down into the pretty little village of Wa 
 Ssu Kou, the " Ravine of the Tile Roof Monastery." 
 At the extreme western end of the one long street we 
 found comfortable quarters in a new, clean inn. Like 
 so many of these villages of wood with shingled 
 roofs, Wa Ssu Kou seems to burn down once in so 
 often, which has at least the advantage that there is 
 less chance for dirt to accumulate. 
 
 Strolling out from the inn after a wash, I found 
 myself in the fine gardens that border the river, 
 separated from the water, here level with the bank, 
 only by a narrow strip of shingle. Men and women 
 were hard at work even after nightfall. Each plant 
 is brought up by hand, as it were, and there is no 
 waste of fertilizer; by spoonfuls the precious stuff 
 is applied to each root instead of being scattered 
 over the ground. Just across the river towered a 
 precipitous cliff two thousand feet high, quite over- 
 shadowing the village, which looked very small and 
 helpless by contrast. Up the face of the cliff zig- 
 zagged a steep trail, finally disappearing over the top, 
 and I looked longingly after it, for on this side the 
 river direct Chinese government ends. The other 
 bank is the country of the tribesmen, people of Mantzu 
 stock living under the rule of their tribal chiefs. 
 Northwards from Wa Ssu Kou the Ta Tu changes 
 its name to Chin Ch'uan, or " Golden Stream," and
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 119 
 
 the whole region is known as the Chin Ch'uan 
 country, and is famous in Chinese history as the 
 scene of one of the most hardly fought campaigns 
 against the tribes. 
 
 On my return to Wa Ssu Kou a week later a free 
 half-day gave me a chance for a little run over the 
 border. Guided by a respectable villager I crossed 
 the rickety bridge over the Tarchendo and after a 
 breathless climb came out on the top of the cliff, 
 where I overlooked a wide rolling plateau sloping 
 steeply to the Ta Tu on the east, and enclosed north 
 and west by high mountains. The country seemed 
 barren and almost uninhabited, as though removed 
 by hundreds of miles from the hard- won prosperity 
 and swarming life of the line of Chinese advance to 
 Tachienlu. Only occasionally did we meet any one, 
 Chinese or Mantzu, and there was no stir about the 
 few dwellings that we passed, all high, fortress-like 
 buildings of stone. This whole region is almost un- 
 known to Europeans, and the few Chinese who go 
 there are generally passing traders. According to 
 Hosie, they are allowed to take temporary wives 
 from the women of the country on payment of a sum 
 of money to the tribal head, but they must leave 
 them behind when they depart. 
 
 The next day we ascended the valley of the Tar- 
 chendo to Tachienlu, a distance of about twenty 
 miles. There is a rise of thirty-five hundred feet on
 
 120 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 this stage, but so gradual is the ascent that one real- 
 izes it only in watching the stream, which is almost 
 continuous rapid and cataract. For miles there was 
 scarcely a square yard of smooth water. The only 
 means of crossing from one bank to the other is by 
 the rope bridges, of which I saw three. Several times 
 I had a chance to watch some one making the trip. 
 From a bamboo rope securely anchored on either 
 bank with heavy rocks, a sling-seat is suspended by 
 means of a section of bamboo which travels along 
 the rope. Seated in the sling the weight of the voy- 
 ager carries him more than halfway across, but after 
 that he must haul himself up by sheer force. A slip 
 would mean certain death, and it is said that often 
 on reaching the middle of the stream the impulse to 
 let go is uncontrollable. Hardy Western explorers 
 have frequently confessed their dread of these bridges, 
 which are found throughout the mountains of east- 
 ern Asia, but I saw men and women crossing as 
 though it were all in the day's work. But then the 
 Chinese have no nerves, you know. 
 
 Fortunately the need of crossing here did not seem 
 very imperative, for there was little sign of life on 
 the north bank of the Tarchendo. Indeed, on our 
 side there were no villages for the whole distance, 
 only a few hamlets and now and then a solitary rest- 
 house. The river is so closely shut in by the mighty 
 rock walls on either hand that there is scarcely room
 
 ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 121 
 
 for more than the narrow trail. There were a good 
 many walnut trees and willows, and I occasionally 
 saw a meagre patch of barley or Indian corn, but 
 even the Chinese would be hard put to wring a liv- 
 ing here were it not for the coolie trade. In fact, every 
 other house seemed to be a restaurant or tea-house. 
 At one the soldier who had escorted me from Ni T'ou 
 covered himself with disgrace by getting into a quar- 
 rel. Rain was falling, so I stayed in my chair while 
 the coolies were drinking their everlasting cups of 
 tea. Suddenly there was a great outcry, every one 
 pitching in, and I saw the soldier seize the innkeeper 
 by the queue, belabouring him vigorously with the 
 flat of his short broad sword. I called to the inter- 
 preter to interfere, but either he did not hear me or 
 would not obey ; so I scrambled out of my chair as 
 best I could (a woman, as an inferior being, must al- 
 ways step over the side pole ; to touch the pole that 
 rests on the coolie's shoulder would cause him to 
 have sores), and, throwing myself into the fray, hauled 
 the soldier off. I knew, for I had tested it, that the 
 edge of his sword was sharp. When the excitement 
 had died down, I learned that the whole trouble rose 
 from the innkeeper's demanding payment for four 
 cakes, while the soldier insisted that he had eaten 
 only three. Who had the right of it I do not know, 
 but I read the man a lesson at so misbehaving him- 
 self when escorting a lady, a truly Western point of
 
 122 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 view which was probably Greek to him, but anyway 
 he seemed greatly downcast at my rebuke, and for 
 the rest of the day hung about in an apologetic way, 
 occasionally mutely laying a bunch of flowers on the 
 arm of my chair as a peace offering.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TACHIENLU 
 
 TACHIENLU is surely mi generis; there can be 
 no other town quite like it. Situated eight thou- 
 sand four hundred feet above the sea, it seems to lie 
 at the bottom of a well, the surrounding snow-capped 
 mountains towering perhaps fifteen thousand feet in 
 the air above the little town which, small as it is, has 
 hardly room to stand, while outside the wall there is 
 scarcely a foot of level ground. It is wedged into the 
 angle where three valleys come together, the Tar and 
 the Chen rivers meeting just below the town to form 
 the Tarchendo, and our first view of the place as we 
 turned the cliff corner that here bars the gorge, was 
 very striking, grey walls and curly roofs standing out 
 sharply from the flanking hillsides. 
 
 Within the walls of Tachienlu, China and Tibet 
 meet. As we made our way through the long, dirty 
 main street, here running parallel with the Tar which 
 comes tumbling down from the snow-fields of the 
 Tibetan range, I was struck at once by the varied 
 aspect of the people. The dense crowd that surged 
 through the streets, some on horseback and some on 
 foot, was more Tibetan than Chinese, but the faces
 
 I2 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 that peered out from the shops were unmistakably of 
 the Middle Kingdom. Groups of fierce-looking fel- 
 lows, clad in skins and felt, strode boldly along, their 
 dark faces bearing indelible marks of the hard, wild 
 life of the Great Plateau. Many of them carried weap- 
 ons of some sort, for the Chinese have scorned to 
 disarm them. Among them walked impassively the 
 blue-gowned men of the ruling race, fairer, smaller, 
 feebler, and yet undoubtedly master. It was the tri- 
 umph of the organizing mind over the brute force of 
 the lower animal. Almost one man in five was a red- 
 robed lama, no cleaner in dress nor more intelligent 
 in face than the rest, and above the din of the crowd 
 and the rush of the river rose incessantly weird chant- 
 ing and the long-drawn wail of horns from the temples 
 scattered about the town. Lamaism has Tachienlu in 
 its grip, and I could have fancied myself back in 
 Himis lamassery, thousands of miles away on the 
 western frontier of Tibet. It was an extraordinarily 
 picturesque scene, full of life and sound and colour. 
 
 Marco Polo described the territory lying west of 
 Ya-chou as " Thibeth," and a century ago the Chi- 
 nese frontier stopped at Tachienlu, but to-day Batang, 
 a hundred and twenty-five miles to the west as the 
 crow flies, is the western limit of Szechuan. In actual 
 fact, however, direct administration by the Chinese 
 stops at the Ta Tu, on the right bank of the river the 
 people being governed by their tribal chiefs. Ta-
 
 TACHIENLU 125 
 
 chienlu is in the principality of the King of Chala, whose 
 palace is one of the two or three noteworthy build- 
 ings in the place, and the Tibetan population of some 
 seven hundred families, not counting the lamas, is 
 directly under his authority. But there is a power 
 behind the throne, and the town is really governed 
 by the Chinese officials, for it is the key to the coun- 
 try to the west, and the Imperial Government has 
 long been awake to the importance of controlling the 
 great trade and military road to Lhasa. What the 
 effect of the Revolution will be upon the relations of 
 China and Tibet remains to be seen. Already Chao 
 Erh Feng, the man who as Warden of the Marches 
 had made Chinese rule more of a reality in Lhasa 
 than ever before, has fallen a victim to Manchu weak- 
 ness ; hated by Chinese and Tibetan alike, he met 
 his death at the hands of a rebellious soldiery in 
 January, 1912. 
 
 Between Tachienlu and Lhasa lie many hundred 
 miles of barren, windswept plateaus and perilous 
 mountain passes. There are, I believe, at least ten of 
 these passes higher than Mont Blanc. Connection 
 between the two places is over one of the most diffi- 
 cult mountain roads in the world, yet it was by this 
 route that the Chinese finally conquered Tibet in the 
 eighteenth century, and to-day most of the trade 
 goes the same way. Those who deny the Chinese all 
 soldierly qualities must have forgotten their achieve-
 
 126 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 ments against the Tibetans, let alone the still more 
 extraordinary military feat of their victory over the 
 Gurkhas of Nepal, when a force of seventy thousand 
 men of the Middle Kingdom crossed the whole width 
 of the most inaccessible country in the world, and, 
 fighting at a distance of two thousand miles from 
 their base, defeated the crack warriors of the East. 
 
 The China Inland Mission has a station at Ta- 
 chienlu, but to my disappointment the two missionaries 
 were away at the time of my visit, and although their 
 Chinese helpers made me welcome, providing a place 
 for me in one of the buildings of the mission com- 
 pound, I felt it a real loss not to talk with men who 
 would have had so much of interest to tell. More- 
 over, I had been looking forward to meeting my own 
 kind once more after two weeks of Chinese society. 
 Fortunately another traveller turned up in Tachien4u 
 about the time I did, an English officer of the Indian 
 army, returning to duty by a roundabout route after 
 two years' leave at home. As he too was installed in 
 the mission compound we soon discovered each other, 
 and I had the pleasure of some interesting talk, and 
 of really dining again. Eating alone in a smelly Chi- 
 nese inn cannot by any stretch be called dining. I 
 found that Captain Bailey had gone with the Young- 
 husband expedition to Lhasa, and was now on his 
 way to Batang with the hope of being able to cross 
 Tibet from the Chinese side. We had an enjoyable
 
 TACHIENLU 127 
 
 evening comparing experiences. I was impressed, as 
 often before, by the comfort a man manages to secure 
 for himself when travelling. If absolutely necessary, 
 he will get down to the bare bones of living, but or- 
 dinarily the woman, if she has made up her mind to 
 rough it, is far more indifferent to soft lying and high 
 living, especially the latter, than the man. One thing 
 I had, however, that Captain Bailey lacked, a dog, 
 and I think he rather envied me my four-footed 
 companion. I know I begrudged him his further ad- 
 venture into the wilds beyond Tachienlu. Months 
 later I learned that although he did not reach Lhasa 
 as he had hoped to do, his explorations in the little- 
 known region between Assam and Tibet and China 
 had won him much fame and the Gill Medal awarded 
 by the Royal Geographical Society. 
 
 Thanks to Captain Bailey I suffered no inconven- 
 ience from the absence of the missionaries on whom 
 I had relied for help in getting a cheque cashed, as he 
 kindly introduced me to the postmaster, to whom he 
 had brought a letter from the English post-commis- 
 sioner at Chengtu, and this official most courteously 
 gave me all the money I needed for the next stage 
 of my journey. The Imperial Post-Office was in 
 1911 still under the same management as the cus- 
 toms service, and was marked by the same efficiency. 
 All over China it had spread a network of post- 
 routes, and by this time, unless the Revolution has
 
 128 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 upset things, as it probably has, there should be a 
 regular mail service between Tachienlu and Batang 
 and Lhasa. To be sure, the arrangements at Ta- 
 chienlu were rather primitive, but the surprising 
 thing was that there should be any post-office at all. 
 When I went for my letters the morning after I ar- 
 rived, I was shown a large heap of stuff on the floor 
 of the little office, and the interpreter and I spent a 
 good half-hour disentangling my things from the 
 dusty pile, most of which was apparently for mem- 
 bers of the large French mission in Tachienlu. I was 
 sorry not to have a chance to meet representatives 
 of the mission, which has been established for a long 
 time, and works, I believe, among both Tibetans and 
 Chinese, the Protestants confining themselves to the 
 Chinese community. Nor was I more successful in 
 learning about the Protestant work, owing to the ab- 
 sence of the missionaries on a journey to Batang. 
 But I was greatly impressed by the truly beautiful 
 face and dignified bearing of a native pastor who 
 called upon me at my lodgings. Fine, serene, pure 
 of countenance, he might have posed for a Buddha 
 or a Chinese St. John. In my limited experience of 
 the Chinese, the men who stand out from their fel- 
 lows for beauty of expression and attractiveness of 
 manner are two or three Christians of the better 
 class. Naturally fine-featured and of dignified pre- 
 sence, the touch of the Christian faith seems to have
 
 TACHIENLU 129 
 
 transformed the supercilious impassiveness of their 
 class into a serenity full of charm. It is a pity that it 
 is not more often so, but the zeal of the West mars as 
 well as mends, and in imparting Western beliefs and 
 Western learning carelessly and needlessly destroys 
 Eastern ideals of conduct and manner, often more 
 reasonable and more attractive than our own. The 
 complacent cocksureness of the Occidental attitude 
 toward Oriental ways and standards has little to 
 rest on. We have reviled the people of the East 
 in the past for their unwillingness to admit that there 
 was anything we could teach them, and they are 
 amending their ways, but we have shown and show 
 still a stupidity quite equal to theirs in our refusal to 
 learn of them. Take, for example, the small matter of 
 manners, if it be a small matter. More than one 
 teacher in America has confessed the value of the 
 object lesson in good breeding given by the chance 
 student from the East, but how few Westerners in 
 China show any desire to pattern after the dignified, 
 courteous bearing of the Chinese gentleman. I have 
 met bad manners in the Flowery Kingdom, but not 
 among the natives. 
 
 It had been a long, hard pull from Ning-yuan-fu ; 
 two weeks' continuous travelling is a tax upon every 
 one, but at no place had we found comfortable quar- 
 ters for the whole of the party, and as the men pre- 
 ferred to push on, I was not inclined to object. But
 
 130 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 usually a seventh-day rest is very acceptable to them ; 
 so we were all glad for a little breathing-space in Ta- 
 chienlu. The servants and coolies spent the first day 
 in a general tidying-up, getting a shave, face and 
 head, and having their queues washed and combed 
 and replaited. Some also made themselves fine in new 
 clothes, but others were content to wash the old. As 
 none of them, with the exception of the fu t'ou, had 
 ever been in Tachienlu before, they were as keen to 
 see the sights as I was, and in my rambles about the 
 town the next two or three days, I was greeted at 
 every turn by my coolies, enjoying to the full their 
 hard-earned holiday. 
 
 There was less to see of interest in Tachienlu than 
 I had expected. The shops are filled mainly with 
 ordinary Chinese wares, and my efforts to find some 
 Tibetan curios were fruitless, those shown to me 
 being of little value. I imagine it is a matter of 
 chance if one secures anything really worth while. 
 At any rate, neither the quaint teapots nor the hand 
 praying- wheels that I was seeking were forthcoming. 
 Nor could I find any decent leopard skins, which a 
 short time ago formed an important article of com- 
 merce, so plentiful were they. But at least I had the 
 fun of bartering with the people, whom I found much 
 the most interesting thing in Tachienlu, and thanks 
 to the indifference or the politeness of the Tibetan I 
 was able to wander about freely without being
 
 TACHIENLU 131 
 
 dogged by a throng of men and boys. Chinese soldiers 
 were much in evidence, for this is naturally an im- 
 portant military post as well as the forwarding depot 
 for the troops stationed along the great western trade 
 route to Batang and Lhasa. The Chinese population 
 under their protection, numbering some four hundred 
 families, mostly traders, looked sleek and prosperous. 
 Evidently they made a good living off the country, 
 unlike the Tibetans who were generally dirty and 
 ragged and poor in appearance. I must confess that 
 I was disappointed at the latter. In spite of their 
 hardy, muscular aspect and bold bearing, I did not 
 find them attractive as do most travellers. They 
 lacked the grotesque jollity of the Ladakhis of West- 
 ern Tibet, their cousins in creed and race, and I met 
 nothing of the manly friendliness which marked the 
 people of Mongolia whom I had to do with later. 
 Never have I seen men of more vicious expression 
 than some I met in my strolls about Tachienlu, and 
 I could well believe the stories told of the ferocity 
 shown by the lamas along the frontier. Very likely 
 the people are better than their priests, but if so, their 
 looks belie them. There is rarely a man or a people 
 so low as to lack a defender, and it is a pleasing 
 side to the white man's rule in the East, that if he be 
 half a man he is likely to stand up for the weak folk he 
 governs. It may be due to pride of ownership, or it 
 may be the result of a knowledge born of intimate
 
 132 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 acquaintance, but whatever the cause, no race is quite 
 without champions in the white man's congress. Cap- 
 tain Bailey who had had long experience of the Tibet- 
 ans in administrative work on the northeastern 
 borderland of India, was no exception, and he de- 
 fended them vigorously. I had no knowledge to set 
 against his, but when he declared that they were a 
 clean people it seemed to me he was stretching a 
 point, for I should have thought their dirt was as un- 
 deniable as it was excusable in the burning sun or 
 biting cold of their high plateaus. 
 
 Practically all the traffic between China and its 
 great western dependency passes through Tachienlu, 
 and the little town is full of bustle and stir. From 
 Tibet are brought skins and wool and gold and musk, 
 to be exchanged here for tobacco and cloth and mis- 
 cellaneous articles, but tea, of course, forms the great 
 article of trade, the quantity sent from Tachienlu 
 annually amounting to more than twelve million 
 pounds. Conspicuous in the town are the great ware- 
 houses where the tea is stored, awaiting sale, and 
 there are numerous Tibetan establishments where it 
 is repacked for the animal carriage which here re- 
 places the carrier coolies from the east. Among the 
 Chinese the trade is mostly in the hands of a few 
 great merchants who deal with the women repre- 
 sentatives of the Tibetan priesthood who practically 
 monopolize the sale in their country, deriving a large
 
 TACHIENLU 133 
 
 income from the high prices they charge the poor 
 people to whom tea is a necessity of life. 
 
 When I grew weary of the confusion and dirt of 
 the narrow streets I was glad to escape to the hillside 
 above my lodgings. The mission compound is small 
 and confined, affording no room for a garden, al- 
 though fine masses of iris growing along the walls 
 brightened up the severity of the grey stone build- 
 ings; but a little climb behind the mission house 
 brought me to a peaceful nook whence I could get a 
 glorious view over the town and up and down the 
 valley, here so narrow that it seemed possible to throw 
 a stone against the opposite hillside. 
 
 The first fine morning after my arrival I made an 
 early start for the summer palace of the King of 
 Chala, situated about eight miles from Tachienlu in a 
 beautiful, lonely valley among the mountains. This is 
 the favourite camping-place of Chengtu missionaries, 
 who now and then brave the eleven days' journey to 
 and fro to exchange their hothouse climate for a brief 
 holiday in the glorious scenery and fine air of these 
 health-giving uplands. We were mounted, the inter- 
 preter and I, on ponies provided by the Yamen, one 
 worse than the other, and both unfit for the rough 
 scramble. After traversing the town, first on one side 
 and then on the other of the river which we crossed 
 by a picturesque wooden bridge, roofed in but with 
 open sides, we passed out at the South Gate Ta-
 
 134 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 chienlu has no West Gate and found ourselves in 
 a small suburb with a few meagre gardens. A mile 
 farther along we crossed the river again by a striking 
 single arch bridge, known as the " Gate of Tibet." 
 We were now on the great trade route to Lhasa, but 
 between us and the mysterious city lay many days of 
 weary travel. 
 
 From time to time we met groups of Tibetans, men 
 and women, rough-looking and shy, with the shy- 
 ness of a wild animal. Generally after a moment's 
 pause to reassure themselves, they answered my 
 greeting in jolly fashion, seeming quite ready to 
 make friends. Occasionally the way was blocked by 
 trains of ox-like yaks, the burden-bearers of the snow- 
 fields, bringing their loads of skins and felt and 
 musk and gold. Astride of one was a nice old man 
 who stuck out his tongue at me in polite Tibetan 
 fashion. 
 
 After an hour's ride we left the highway and 
 turned into a beautiful green valley, following a very 
 bad trail deeper and deeper into the mountains, the 
 soft meadows gay with flowers forming a charming 
 contrast to the snow-peaks that barred the upper end 
 of the valley. We came first to the New Palace, a 
 large rambling building having no more architectural 
 pretensions than an ordinary Chinese inn. As the 
 king's brother, who makes his home there, was away, 
 I saw nothing more of the place than the great court-
 
 TACHIENLU 135 
 
 yard filled with mangy, half-starved dogs and un- 
 kempt men. Not far off is one of the great attractions 
 of the place, at least to the natives, a hot sulphur 
 spring. To the disappointment of my Tibetan guide 
 I declined to visit it, preferring a leisurely cold lunch 
 on the bank of a rushing stream which was vigor- 
 ously turning a large prayer-wheel, a cylinder of 
 wood inscribed many times over with the mystic 
 words of the Buddhist prayer, "Om mani padme 
 hum," oftenest repeated perhaps of all prayers. Each 
 revolution of the wheel was equivalent to as many 
 repetitions of the words as there were inscribed on 
 the wood. So night and day, while the stream runs, 
 prayers are going up for the king, and truly he 
 needs them, poor man, between the bullying of his 
 Chinese overlords and the machinations of turbulent 
 lamas. Other indications of the Buddhist's comfort- 
 able way of getting his prayers said for him are 
 found all about Tachienlu. From temple roof and 
 wayside rock flags bearing the same legend wave in 
 the breeze, each flutter a prayer, and just outside the 
 city we rode by a long stone wall, much like those 
 of New England, only its top was covered over with 
 inscribed stones. If you passed by, having the 
 "mani" wall on your right hand, each inscribed 
 stone would pray for you ; hence the trail always 
 forks to suit the coming and the going Buddhist, and 
 I remember well the insolent pride with which my
 
 136 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Mohammedan servants always took the right hand 
 when passing these walls in Ladakh. 
 
 A mile farther up the valley we came to the Old 
 Palace, a collection of hovels banked with piles of 
 manure. Far more attractive than the royal residence 
 were some tents not far off, where a band of Tibet- 
 ans, retainers of the prince, were encamped. They 
 came out to greet us in friendly fashion, pointing out 
 a blind trail up the valley where we could get better 
 views of the snow-peaks ; but we had to turn back, 
 sorry though I was to leave the spot, parklike in its 
 beauty of forest and meadow, a veritable oasis in a 
 wilderness of rock and ice. It was more like home 
 than anything I had seen in West China, for there 
 were stretches of fine, grassy meadows where the 
 royal herds of cattle were grazing, and all at once I 
 realized that it was weeks since I had seen a field of 
 grass or real cows. It is the great lack in this coun- 
 try. Pigs abound, and fowls, but there is no place 
 for cattle, and the horses live on beans and corn, or 
 more likely on leaves and twigs. 
 
 Priest-ridden Tachienlu boasts many temples and 
 lamasseries, and the last day of my stay I paid a visit 
 to one of the largest, not far from the South Gate. It 
 was a wide, rambling, wooden building standing 
 near a grove of unusually fine trees, a sort of alder. 
 The approach was not unattractive, flowers growing 
 under the walls and about the entrance. Once inside
 
 TACHIENLU 137 
 
 the portal, we found ourselves in a large courtyard 
 paved with stone and surrounded by two-story gal- 
 leried buildings. Facing us was the temple, scarcely 
 more imposing in outward appearance than the 
 others. On one side a group of half-naked lamas 
 were gathered about an older man who seemed to be 
 relating or expounding something, whether gossip or 
 doctrine I could not tell, but I should judge the for- 
 mer from their expressions. They paid little atten- 
 tion to us, nor did others strolling about the yard, 
 but the big dogs roaming loose were not backward 
 in their greeting, although to my surprise they did 
 not seem at all ferocious, and treated my imperturb- 
 able little dog with distant respect. Earlier travel- 
 lers recount unpleasant experiences, but perhaps the 
 lamas have learned better in late years, and fasten 
 up their dangerous dogs if visitors are expected. 
 Afterwards I saw in another inner courtyard a large, 
 heavy-browed brute adorned with a bright red frill 
 and securely chained. He looked savage, and could 
 have given a good account of himself in any fight. 
 
 While I was waiting for permission to enter the 
 temple, I inspected the stuffed animals dogs, 
 calves, leopards suspended on the verandah. They 
 were fast going to decay from dust and moth, but I 
 was told that they were reputed sacred. The temple, 
 which we were forced to enter from a side door, was 
 large and high, hung with scrolls and banners and
 
 i 3 8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 filled with images, but it was so dark that I found it 
 difficult to discern much save a good-sized figure of 
 Buddha, not badly done. 
 
 At the invitation of an old lama, a friend of our 
 guide, I was invited to a large, disorderly dining- or 
 living-hall on the upper floor, where we were very 
 courteously served with tea, Chinese fashion. The 
 old man had a rather nice face, and I tried to learn a 
 little about the place, but conversation through two 
 Chinese intermediaries, one speaking imperfect Eng- 
 lish and the other bad Tibetan, was not very satis- 
 factory, and I soon gave up the attempt. I did suc- 
 ceed, however, in making the lama understand my 
 wish to hire some one to cut for me a praying-stone, 
 to which he replied that there were plenty outside, 
 why did I not take one of them ? I had thought of 
 that myself, but feared to raise a storm about my 
 ears. Now, acting on his advice, I made a choice at 
 my leisure and no one objected. Under the double 
 restraint of an unusually strong prince, backed by 
 Chinese officials, the priests of Tachienlu are less 
 truculent than farther west, but at best Lamaism rests 
 with a heavy hand upon the Tibetans ; it is greedy 
 and repulsive in aspect and brutalizing in its effects ; 
 wholly unlike the gentle, even though ignorant and 
 superstitious, Buddhism of China.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 
 
 AT Tachienlu I reached the western limit of my 
 wanderings ; not the western boundary of China, 
 nor yet of my desire, but my time was nearly spent ; 
 in less than four months I had to be back in England ; 
 moreover, late summer was not a favourable season 
 for descending the Yangtse. So with a longing 
 glance up the great Lhasa trail I turned my face east- 
 wards ; but it is always wearisome to retrace one's 
 steps, and a chance remark of Captain Bailey set me 
 on the scent of an alternative route to Ya-chou. As 
 far as Lu Ting Ch'iao there was no choice ; all traffic 
 across the Ta Tu must seek the great iron bridge 
 both coming and going, but at that point there turned 
 off to the north and east a shorter trail than the main 
 packroad which we had struck near Ni T'ou. Al- 
 though more direct, it was less travelled owing to the 
 difficulties of the way, for there were two steep moun- 
 tain-ranges to be crossed, and path and bridges were 
 often insecure, calling for a sure foot and a steady 
 head. It was not easy to get precise information as to 
 the condition of the road. Captain Bailey knew little 
 save the mere fact of its existence, and although 
 Major Davies had taken this route, he notes in his
 
 140 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 book " Yunnan " nothing more than that it is much 
 too steep for animals. Even the friendly postmaster 
 failed us here ; all he could tell was that an official 
 who had attempted to take ponies through lost them 
 all, swept away by the torrents. The interpreter 
 wagged his head doubtfully when I suggested my 
 plan, but his opinion did not matter, for, like all of 
 his class in China, he was disinclined to active ex- 
 ertion. And when I called the fu t'ou into council I 
 found he had once gone this way, and was not in- 
 clined to go again. 
 
 Ku Niang (my tide) : " I wish to go to Ya-chou 
 by the Lesser Trail." 
 
 Fu ffou: "It is impossible." 
 
 Ku Niang: " I intend to go all the same, and I 
 expect you to go with me." 
 
 Fu ?ou : "Very well. I will guide the Ku Niang by 
 the Lesser Trail, but the pony cannot go, nor the 
 chairs, nor the men, for it is impassable for shoulder 
 loads, and these are Ning-yiian men who know no 
 other way of carrying." 
 
 Apparently the fu t'ou and the cook, Jack and I 
 were the only ones equal to the trip, as I had already 
 told the interpreter he might go by the main road. 
 But persistence conquers most things in the East. 
 The pony should be sent round by the longer way in 
 charge of the ma-fu. As for the interpreter, when he 
 found I was ready to get along without him, he de-
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 141 
 
 cided to stay with me. I would not have the Ning- 
 yiian men discharged if they wished to go on with 
 me to Ya-chou and Chengtu, as first arranged but I 
 was sure that by hiring two or three extra coolies, so 
 as to lighten the loads, they could get along ; nor did 
 the chairs present any real difficulty. We would walk 
 when the trail was bad, and surely they could be taken 
 empty wherever pack-coolies went. So it proved, all 
 was arranged as I planned, and in the end everything 
 turned out satisfactorily. 
 
 Our departure from Tachienlu was attended with 
 the usual noise and confusion ; nothing is done quietly 
 in China. Also there were the customary delays. As 
 we had only a short stage before us, I sat serenely 
 aloof on the steps of the mission house, enjoying for 
 the last time the wonderful views over the town to 
 the snow peaks above, while things gradually got 
 themselves straight. After a long wait for the second 
 soldier, who never turned up, we were at last off, and 
 the descent of the valley was very enjoyable in the 
 soft grey light of a misty day. As the river had risen 
 appreciably during our stay in Tachienlu, it rushed 
 along at a fine rate between the high, steep banks, 
 and I held my breath as I watched people pulling 
 themselves over by the perilous rope bridges. Half- 
 way to Wa Ssu Kou we met a procession of six 
 chairs, and from each looked out the fair, smiling face 
 of a French sister bound to her mission station at
 
 i 4 2 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Tachienlu. Already in thought the town seemed purer 
 and better for the presence of these noble women, 
 who had probably left their homes for good, to take 
 up a work which they would lay down only with life. 
 
 We found room in Wa Ssu Kou in the same ' ' comfy ' ' 
 inn as before, and the welcome we received gave me 
 a truly homelike feeling. Soon after starting the next 
 morning we passed the funeral cortege of a Chinese 
 official of Tachienlu, making his last long journey to 
 his distant home two hundred li beyond Chengtu. 
 The ponderous coffin in its red case, upon which stood 
 the usual white cock to avert disaster, was pre- 
 ceded by men carrying flags and cymbals which they 
 clashed in accompaniment to the almost continuous 
 chanting of the eight bearers. As they stopped for 
 frequent halts we had soon left them far behind, but 
 late at night they arrived at Lu Ting and were given 
 quarters in the same temple where we were lodged, 
 for I had refused to try the inns again. 
 
 While it was still dark the next morning we were 
 aroused by the sound of chanting and clashing cym- 
 bals in the court outside. The bearers of the dead 
 were starting on another stage of their long journey, 
 and at quarter-past six we too were off, after a last 
 parting injunction to the ma-fu to take good care of 
 the pony. Already the town was astir, the market- 
 place, as we passed through, crowded with traders 
 and their produce, chiefly good-looking vegetables
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 143 
 
 and fruit For a few miles we kept up the left bank 
 of the Ta Tu, and then turned abruptly up the moun- 
 tain-side. Here my chair-men halted for breakfast 
 and I did not see them again until we reached our 
 night's stopping-place. Alone with Jack I kept on 
 along the steep trail, revelling in my freedom. At 
 first we met few people, although later in the day the 
 number increased, but wherever the way seemed 
 doubtful there was always some one to put me 
 straight by signs. After a little we dropped by a 
 sharp descent into the valley of a small wild river 
 flowing into the Ta Tu from the east We kept up 
 this, crossing the stream from side to side on planks 
 and stepping-stones. After passing through two tiny 
 hamlets embowered in walnut trees, we reached the 
 head of the valley and faced a long, steep zigzag. 
 The climb was hard, hot work, but I found some di- 
 version in a friendly race with a good-looking woman 
 going the same way ; her unbound feet kept up with 
 mine while our dogs romped along gaily. Women 
 with unbound feet were far more common here than 
 elsewhere in my travels, and they seemed exception- 
 ally alert and intelligent, but the population of the 
 region is scanty, many of the people being new- 
 comers of Hakka stock. Arrived at the top of the cliff 
 we found ourselves on a narrow ridge, and for the 
 rest of the short stage our way led along the face of 
 the mountain, from time to time topping a wooded
 
 144 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 spur. Everywhere azaleas made the air sweet and 
 the steep slopes wonderful with colour. At length we 
 dropped without warning into a little village at the 
 head of a precipitous narrow ravine, where we spent 
 the night in an unusually interesting inn. Save for 
 two or three private rooms, the best of which was 
 given to me, all life centred in a great hall open to 
 the roof and with merely a suggestion of partition in 
 a few rough railings. Through the open doors men, 
 children, pigs and fowls, cats and dogs, strolled in 
 from the rain. Up in the roof our chairs were slung 
 out of the way. Each coolie, having secured a strip 
 of matting, had found his place. Some were cleaning 
 off the sweat and dirt of the day's work with hot 
 water : not until they have done that can they obtain 
 the quilts that are rented for twenty cash each ; others 
 had already curled up for the afternoon pipe of opium, 
 while still others were busy preparing the evening 
 meal over the big semicircular range. In one pot 
 bean-cake was being made, a long, complicated pro- 
 cess; in another, cakes were frying in oil; in an- 
 other, rice was boiling. One of my chair coolies 
 seemed to be the chef par excellence ; brandishing a 
 big iron ladle, he went from pot to pot, stirring, tast- 
 ing, seasoning, and generally lording it over two 
 others working under his orders. In full control of 
 the whole was a good-looking woman with bound 
 feet, apparently the proprietor of the inn ; at least I
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 145 
 
 saw no man to fill the post. Every one was good- 
 tempered and friendly, and I was glad to exchange 
 the tiresome seclusion of the town inns for the bust- 
 ling scene in which I was willingly included, tasting 
 each dish, watching the men at their games, making 
 friends with the children. 
 
 The pouring rain of the night gave way to a soft 
 drizzle at dawn, and we were off before seven. As we 
 ascended the valley we faced a solid green wall 
 flushed with masses of pink azaleas and cherry-red 
 rhododendrons, and broken by half a dozen streams 
 which flung themselves over the lip of the cliff to 
 dash in feathery cascades from rock to rock below. 
 Our way led back and forth over rushing mountain 
 streams. Riding was of course out of the question, 
 and I had long since left my chair-coolies behind ; 
 but one of the Tachienlu men, a strong, active fellow 
 with bits of coral adorning his black queue, was very 
 alert in looking out for me, always waiting at a diffi- 
 cult place with a helping hand. We crossed the Ma- 
 An Shan Pass, about ten thousand feet high, by the 
 middle of the forenoon, having climbed more than 
 five thousand feet since leaving Lu Ting Ch'iao. 
 Just before reaching the top we descended into a cup- 
 like hollow, a huge dimple lined with the rich greens 
 and gay reds of the rhododendron, and merry with 
 the babble of many tiny waterfalls. I exclaimed with 
 delight at the vision of beauty, and even the coolies
 
 146 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 grinned appreciatively. It would have been a place 
 to dream away a day had it not been as wet as 
 a shower bath. Nearing the pass, we heard weird 
 sounds above us, not unlike the cries of rejoicing 
 uttered by the Ladakhis of Western Tibet when they 
 have successfully surmounted a difficult height, and 
 I wondered if I was to find the same custom here. 
 But it turned out to be the lullaby with which two 
 men were tooling ten black pigs over the pass. Again, 
 a little way down on the other side, my path was sud- 
 denly barred by a man frantically gesticulating. I 
 thought at first that he was mad, but it was merely 
 that he feared Jack would attack a flock of geese 
 that he was driving in the wake of the pigs, and when 
 I picked the dog up, the man prostrated himself at 
 my feet in gratitude. 
 
 We ought to have had a fine view from the pass 
 over the trackless mountain tangle to the north, some 
 of the peaks towering almost eighteen thousand feet 
 into the sky, but again the clouds and mist veiled 
 everything from sight. All the rest of the day we 
 were making our way down the steep east side, pick- 
 ing our steps laboriously along the wet rocky trail. 
 Our path led through a precipitous narrow gorge, its 
 walls draped with wonderful vegetation, and as we 
 descended it, it grew wetter and greener, and the 
 thousand little brooks leaping down the sides of the 
 ravine rapidly swelled the main stream to an im-
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 147 
 
 passable torrent. Now we crouched under overhang- 
 ing ledges, now we slipped and sprawled down a 
 rough rock staircase, constantly crossing the stream 
 from side to side on planks placed from boulder to 
 boulder, or on slippery logs with insecure handrails 
 or none at all. I found the descent far more tiring 
 than the climb on the other side. The soldier and the 
 gallant coolie fortunately kept always with me, one 
 in front and one behind, and I was often glad of a 
 helping hand. At one time the path led straight into 
 the torrent, but while I was wondering as to the depth 
 of the water and the strength of the current, the 
 coolie, hastily depositing his load, motioned to me 
 to get on his back, and the sturdy fellow carried me 
 safely around the projecting cliff. Still another time 
 we were forced to take to the river, and as I could 
 get no wetter than I was, I proposed to wade in, but 
 again the man was at hand, insisting that I should 
 ride, and the strength and agility with which he 
 made his way over the slippery rocks, the swirling 
 water rising above his knees, were really wonderful ; 
 but then my weight was less than one hundred and 
 thirty pounds, while the ordinary load of the tea- 
 carrier is two hundred. At our heels came the soldier 
 carrying Jack, whose short legs could hardly have 
 made headway against the strong current forcing 
 him out into midstream. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon we forerunners
 
 I 4 8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 of the caravan reached Chang-ho-pa, the night's 
 stop. The whole village turned out to greet us, and 
 their interest was not to be wondered at, as few Eu- 
 ropeans and perhaps no European woman had ever 
 before come this way. The interpreter did not arrive 
 until two hours later, and what stories my two com- 
 panions made up about me to satisfy the curiosity of 
 the villagers, I can only imagine. As a rule, one 
 stands to lose nothing in the mouths of one's follow- 
 ers in the East. Whatever reflected glory they may 
 earn by exalting their masters is generally theirs. 
 Years afterward I learned that on a journey I once 
 made in Kashmir and Baltistan I travelled in the 
 guise of King Edward's sister. How much I profited 
 by the dignity thus thrust upon me I do not know, 
 but I have often thought that my servants must 
 have been hard put to it sometimes to account for 
 the simplicity of my outfit. 
 
 The rest of the caravan straggled in toward the 
 end of the afternoon, wet and tired, but all in good 
 spirits over the successful day, no loads drenched, no 
 one hurt The great room of the rough little inn was 
 noisy and gay with the men drying their clothes and 
 cooking their dinner, the centre of an interested 
 throng of village folk. I sat among them on a low 
 bench by the fire, watching the fun. Every one was 
 heedful of my comfort, poking the fire, bringing a fan 
 to screen my face from the heat, drying my shoes,
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 149 
 
 rubbing Jack. The thoughtfulness and good will of 
 my men during all the journey were unfailing, and I 
 never found that friendliness on my part diminished 
 in any way my authority over them. 
 
 After dinner the chair-bearers gathered round and 
 with the aid of the interpreter I took down as best I 
 could some of their calls and responses, a sort of 
 antiphonal chorus handed down from generation to 
 generation of coolies. Thus the men in front cry, 
 " Lao di ! " " Something in the road ! " and those 
 behind call back, "Ti chi!" "Lift higher!" or 
 maybe it is " Chiao kao 1 " " Something overhead !" 
 and then the answer comes, " Keo yao ! " " Stoop 
 lower ! " When the way is very uneven, you hear 
 "Leopuh ping!" "The road is not level!" to 
 which is replied, "Mon tien hsinl" "There are 
 stones like stars ! " followed by " Tien shan hsin 
 To!" "Many stars in the sky!" with the re- 
 sponse, " Ti hsia ken to ! " " Many holes in the 
 ground." Or perhaps at a bridge, " Hsio mo Ian 
 chao ! " " Bridge bad, building for a thousand 
 years!" to which comes the proverbial answer, 
 " Chien mien wan lao ! " " Must last for ten thou- 
 sand." When there is a steep bit, one calls out, 
 " Deo shan deo ! " " Steeper and steeper ! " and 
 the others retort, " Kuan shan kuan ! " literally, 
 "Official upon official," but the meaning is plain, 
 " As steep as the ladder of promotion." In the vil-
 
 i 5 o A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 lages one hears constantly, "Yu ti kou yaol" 
 "There is a dog on the road," with the response, 
 "Han lao-pan lai chi tao ! " " Call the owner to 
 chain it" ; or else, "Tso shou wahwah keo 1 " "A 
 child on the left hand," and then comes the answer, 
 " Han ta ma lah pao ! " " Call his mother to tend 
 him." ! 
 
 Every hundred yards or so on the road comes the 
 cry, " Fan keo I " " Change shoulders ! " followed 
 by a momentary stop to shift the pole. And you 
 always cross a town to the tune of " Pei-a, pei-a, 
 pei-a ! " " Mind your back, mind your back, mind 
 your back!" And if a man does not mind, he is 
 likely to get a poke in the back from the chair pole. 
 
 The next day's journey was much the same thing 
 as the preceding. We started in the grey morning, 
 and I and my two companions of the day before 
 had soon distanced the others. At first the trail was 
 rough and slippery, and all ups and downs. The 
 vegetation was of almost tropical density, and the 
 moisture underfoot and overhead was so great that 
 it seemed to me I had never been wetter except in a 
 bathtub. As we descended to lower levels the valley 
 broadened out, and the going improved so that we 
 
 1 An apology is due to those wise in Chinese for the blunders 
 that must be found in this attempt by an American who knows no 
 word of the vernacular and a Kiangsi man having a limited com- 
 mand of English to catch and translate the "dirt talk" of Sze- 
 chuan coolies.
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 151 
 
 were able to make very good time. At one point, 
 after passing through a little hamlet, we came out 
 on a high bluff overlooking a good-sized stream 
 flowing in from the south. Fifty feet below roared 
 the river, spanned at this place by a suspension 
 bridge a hundred and fifty feet long, constructed of 
 three iron cables held together by cross-chains at 
 regular intervals. The footway was merely a single 
 row of boards not more than twelve inches wide, and 
 there was no handrail at all. The soldier at my side 
 waved his hand significantly up and down. I under- 
 stood quite too well, and was shaking in my shoes 
 at the thought of walking that narrow, unsteady 
 plank, when I espied my knightly coolie, who, having 
 deposited his load on the opposite bank, was hurry- 
 ing back to my assistance. Gripping Jack, who was 
 as frightened as I, under one arm, I seized the man's 
 hand, and slowly we inched across to safety. There 
 we joined the people of a near-by hamlet, who ap- 
 parently found their pastime in watching the traffic 
 across the bridge, perhaps waiting for a chance to 
 earn a few cash by carrying the loads of the less 
 sure-footed coolies. My chair-men came over tri- 
 umphantly, and Mercury almost ran with his baskets, 
 but the interpreter was glad of the fu t'ou's aid, and 
 two of the coolies balked, but were helped out by 
 some of the others. 
 
 Later in the day we left the river, and crossing a
 
 152 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 head ridge or pass affording beautiful views to the 
 south, came out after a time in the same valley, but 
 now wider and more open. Though the mountains 
 still towered to left and right, we were getting down 
 to lower levels, and the change was marked in the 
 palms, bamboos, and peach trees that began to ap- 
 pear. But the villages were nothing more than ham- 
 lets, and the outlook for dinner at the first stopping- 
 place was so poor that I, now riding in my chair, 
 decided to go on to the next settlement ; but here 
 conditions were even worse, the only inn being dis- 
 mantled and abandoned. Although it was getting 
 late and the others were far behind, there was nothing 
 left but to travel on. Our last hope for the night 
 proved to be a group of four houses only with few 
 supplies, but the people bade us welcome and did 
 their best to make us comfortable. Fires were lighted 
 and clothes were soon drying and rice a-boiling. 
 After the arrival of the interpreter I learned that we 
 had been taken for missionaries, and that it was ex- 
 pected we would hold a service. 
 
 The scenery grew even more beautiful as we de- 
 scended the valley the next day. Our trail led through 
 fine groves high on the hillside, while below us the 
 river, now big enough to have a name, the Ya, turned 
 and twisted in splendid green swirls. Seen from a dis- 
 tance the villages were very attractive, built usually 
 of wood, their thatched roofs just putting forth green
 
 A ROADSIDE TEA-HOUSE 
 
 TEA-COOLIE CROSSING A SUSPENSION BRIDGE 
 His load weighed about 160 Ibs
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 153 
 
 shoots. A new feature in the landscape were tall spruce 
 trees, reminding me in their outlines of the rock pines 
 of Italy. As the road was now good, it was possible 
 for me to ride in my chair once more, for which I was 
 glad, as the hard climbs and still more wearying 
 descents of the last three days had made me rather 
 stale. The people along the way were much interested 
 in me and still more in Jack, but it was the naive 
 curiosity of a simple folk, and I did not find it irk- 
 some like the hard stare of the townspeople. At one 
 place where we halted for tiffin, a lame man with an 
 interesting face attached himself to us, and presently 
 I found myself and my belongings the subject of an 
 explanatory talk he was giving the bystanders. He 
 told them how I kept my eyeglasses on, expatiated 
 on the advantages of my shoes, indicated the good 
 points of my chair, the like of which had never been 
 seen before in these parts, and finally expounded at 
 length the character of my dog. If I wished him to 
 be bad he would bite, but since I was kind I would 
 desire him to be good, and he would be good. To il- 
 lustrate, he patted Jack's head rather gingerly. Fortu- 
 nately the dog appreciated pats from any quarter, so 
 our characters did not suffer. 
 
 Toward the end of the day we were nearing Tien- 
 chuan-chou, the one largeish town on this road. The 
 approach was one of the finest things I have ever 
 seen. We were now well down, having descended
 
 154 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 seven thousand feet since crossing Ma-an-Shan. 
 Everywhere there was careful cultivation, the nearer 
 hills being terraced to the top, and the well-paved trail 
 traversed long stretches of rice-fields just beginning 
 to show green above the mud. Here and there a 
 group of farm buildings stood on little knolls above 
 the surrounding marsh, each in a charming setting of 
 trees. Do trees anywhere group themselves as pic- 
 turesquely as in China? Unsympathetic people tell 
 me that no Chinese ever plant trees save for severely 
 utilitarian purposes. I am in no position to contra- 
 dict the verdict of these overpowering persons, the 
 old residents (fortunately they sometimes contradict 
 each other) ; and yet why is it that most temples are 
 set in fine groves, put to no purpose that I can see 
 save to satisfy a sense of the beautiful, or why are so 
 many Chinese towns, looked at from a height, bow- 
 ers of green beauty, the trees serving neither for fuel 
 nor for food ? The truth is, it seems to me, that the 
 needs of life press so hard on the Chinese that they 
 are forced to look at things from a utilitarian point 
 of view, but given the least chance and their appre- 
 ciation of the beautiful shows itself. 
 
 Near the town we struck down to a good iron sus- 
 pension bridge over the Ya, which here runs with a 
 tremendous current, broken by curious reefs thrust- 
 ing out into the stream some twenty or thirty feet and 
 at right angles to the bank. Beyond the bridge we
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 155 
 
 came in sight of the town, its staring red walls draped 
 with green creepers. Entering through a fine stone 
 gateway, we found ourselves in the single street, 
 broad, well paved, and wonderfully clean. The in- 
 habitants were apparently well used to foreigners, 
 which is natural, as Ya-chou with its Roman Catholic 
 and Protestant missions is only twenty miles away. 
 
 The country through which we passed the next 
 day was very varied, and always beautiful. On leav- 
 ing the town the path led along a low ridge given 
 over to graves. Living and dead dwell side by side in 
 China, and often it seems as though the rights of the 
 one were sacrificed to the claims of the other. The 
 Chinese saying, " For every man that Heaven creates, 
 Earth provides a grave," takes on a new significance 
 as one looks over the land, the dead are so many, the 
 living so hard put to live. This was not an unattrac- 
 tive place, for the mounds of earth and stone were 
 overgrown with grass and ferns, while many were 
 decorated with a tuft of bamboo or a bush of wild 
 roses. The free use of stone in this district was very 
 striking ; pavements, often in good condition, were 
 general, the irrigating ditches were bridged by a 
 single slab of the red sandstone of Szechuan, perhaps 
 ten feet in length, while at every turn there were 
 charming little stone shrines in place of the shabby 
 wooden ones found farther south. 
 
 After a bit we turned away from the plain and river
 
 156 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and entered a more broken country, hills and valleys, 
 ridges and dells, rushing brooks between banks of 
 ferns, little tumbling cascades over mossy stones, 
 groups and avenues of fine trees, picturesque stone 
 bridges, everywhere painstaking tillage and ingeni- 
 ous irrigation. It was all charming, with the artificial 
 beauty of a carefully ordered park. Resting in my 
 chair in front of a tea-house where the coolies were 
 refreshing themselves, I noticed my knight of the 
 bridges suddenly throw himself on the ground before 
 the interpreter, crying out something in beseeching 
 tones, while the other coolies standing about laughed 
 unsympathetically. The poor man was urging the 
 interpreter to ask that I give him back his soul, of 
 which apparently I had deprived him when I took 
 his picture an hour back. Without his soul he would 
 die, and then what would his mother, a widow, do ? 
 After some talk he was consoled, the other men as- 
 suring him that they had been photographed over 
 and over again without suffering harm. If only I 
 had known at the time, I could have consoled him 
 with the information that there was no picture. Pho- 
 tographing in cloudy Szechuan has many drawbacks, 
 and I was ready to bark with the proverbial dog of 
 the province when I saw the sun. The feeling of the 
 Chinese toward the camera seems to vary. Children 
 were sometimes afraid. One boy old enough to carry 
 a heavy load, having been induced by the promise of
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 157 
 
 a reward to stand still, burst into tears just as I was 
 about to snap him, and I had to send him off trium- 
 phant over his bits of cash, while I was left picture- 
 less. Some, too, of the older people made objection, 
 while on the other hand I was occasionally asked to 
 take a picture. 
 
 Toward noon we found ourselves again in the val- 
 ley of the Ya, sometimes following a well-paved trail 
 above the river, the ups and downs carefully terraced 
 in broad stone steps, occasionally threading our way 
 among the huge rush mats with which the village 
 streets were carpeted. The harvesting of the millet 
 and barley crops was over, and the sheaves had been 
 brought into the village to dry and were spread out 
 in the only level space available, the highway. Men 
 walked over the sheaves, children and dogs romped 
 among them, and no one said them nay. Twice we 
 were ferried across the river, and finally a short run 
 over the low, wide reefs that here narrow the chan- 
 nel brought us to Ya-chou and to the end of the 
 Lesser Trail. We had made the trip without any of 
 the prophesied mishaps, and for me it was far more 
 comfortable and more interesting than following the 
 main track. To be sure, we took five days to it, but 
 it would not have been difficult to have saved a day, 
 only there was no object in doing it, for a wait at 
 Ya-chou was inevitable that the ma-fu and pony 
 might catch us up there.
 
 158 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 My enforced stay of one day in Ya-chou gave me 
 a chance to see something of the town. I had the 
 good fortune to be entertained by members of the 
 American Baptist Mission, Dr. and Mrs. Shields, and 
 there as elsewhere I found the missionaries most 
 helpful in giving the traveller an insight into local 
 conditions. There is one limitation to this, however, 
 in the gulf which seems fixed between Protestants 
 and Roman Catholics in the East, cutting off the 
 chance of learning what the latter are doing ; and 
 when one bears in mind that Rome has had her 
 missionaries in China for three hundred years and 
 numbers her converts by millions, one would like to 
 know more of the work done. 
 
 But there is no doubt as to the reality of Protes- 
 tant achievement. In Ya-chou the relations of mis- 
 sionaries and townspeople seemed very cordial and 
 natural. Medical work is being carried on, and a 
 hospital was shortly to be opened. But more valu- 
 able, perhaps, than any formal work may be the 
 results from the mere presence in the town of Chris- 
 tian men and women living lives of high purpose and 
 kindly spirit. 
 
 If you listen to the talk of the treaty ports you will 
 hear much criticism of missionaries and their work, 
 and since they are human it is reasonable to suspect 
 that they sometimes make mistakes; but after all 
 they are the only Europeans in China who are not
 
 THE LESSER TRAIL 159 
 
 there for their own personal interests, and the people 
 are quite shrewd enough to see this. In spite of dif- 
 ferences of views the Chinese who knows the mis- 
 sionary at all generally respects him. A Chinese 
 gentleman in no way friendly to missions, speaking 
 of the good relations that existed between Europeans 
 and Chinese in Nanking, declared it was all because 
 the missionaries came first And Dr. Soothill tells the 
 story of an Englishman who applauded the harsh 
 criticism of mission work by a Chinese river captain, 
 and met the retort, " That 's all well enough, but if it 
 were not for the missionaries we should not know 
 there were any good men in your country." 
 
 The prefectural city of Ya-chou is the centre of a 
 great tea-growing district, while in the town itself are 
 large establishments where the article is made up for 
 the Tibetan trade. The Szechuan tea for the most 
 part does not rank very high, little being exported 
 from the province save to Tibet, and for that market 
 even the poorest is reckoned too good, as the so- 
 called tea carried by the thousands of coolies whom 
 we met bound for Tachienlu is everything save gen- 
 uine tea leaves, being a mixture of which the leaves 
 and twigs of scrub oak and other trees form the larg- 
 est part. The Ya-chou tea, when gathered and dried, 
 is bought up and brought into the towns to be made 
 into the brick tea of Tibetan commerce. The prepar- 
 ation consists in chopping fine the tea and adulterat-
 
 160 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 ing leaves and twigs. After adding a little rice-water 
 the whole is packed in cylinders of bamboo matting, 
 each package weighing from sixteen to eighteen cat- 
 ties. It is estimated that the cost to the manufacturers, 
 exclusive of packing, is about thirty-two cash a catty, 
 somewhat less than a cent and a half gold the pound. 
 By the time the tea has reached Tachienlu it is sold 
 at about five and a half cents a pound. At Batang 
 the price is doubled, and at Lhasa quadrupled. Thus 
 the stuff bought as tea by the Tibetans can scarcely 
 be called cheap, and yet they consume great quan- 
 tities of it. To them it is not a luxury, but a real 
 necessity.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 
 
 THOROUGHLY set up by the day's rest in Ya- 
 chou, my men were on hand at five o'clock on 
 the morning of May 24, in good spirits for the rest 
 of the trip. Even the ma-fu, whom we had left behind 
 at Hua-lin-ping, turned up with the coolie and pony 
 sent round from Lu Ting. 
 
 Two missionaries going down the river to Chia- 
 ting, at the junction of the Min and the Ta Tu in- 
 vited me to take a turn at rafting, and I was glad to 
 go with them for a few li. The Ya Ho joins the Ta 
 Tu just west of Chia-ting, the fall from Ya-chou 
 being about six hundred and fifty feet in a distance of 
 ninety miles. So swift is the current and so tortuous 
 and rocky the bed of the stream that the only navi- 
 gation possible is by means of bamboo rafts fifty or 
 sixty feet long, with a curled prow. Amidships is a 
 small platform partly roofed over with matting. In 
 spite of the rapids, which at times make the trip 
 vastly exciting, there is no danger save the certainty 
 of getting wet. The scenery on either hand is very 
 beautiful ; the great mountains recede in the distance, 
 fading out in the soft light, but the fine red sandstone 
 cliffs, alternating with the brilliant green of bamboo
 
 162 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 groves and rice-fields on the lowland, afforded a 
 charming picture at every turn. 
 
 My men were waiting for me at the appointed 
 place, and ten minutes' precarious scrambling along 
 the narrow dykes between the fields brought me to 
 the great highway leading to the capital, four days' 
 march away. All this day and the three succeeding 
 ones we were travelling through a district park- or 
 garden-like in its exquisite artificial beauty. The 
 trail, which was at first fairly good, ran now along 
 the top of an embankment some six feet broad con- 
 structed across the swimming paddy fields, then 
 dropped into a little valley shaded with fine " namti " 
 trees, and again it wound along a low ridge. Far off 
 against the western horizon stretched the splendid 
 snow-line of the Tibetan range from which I had just 
 come, but now more than a hundred miles away. 
 Every inch of land that could be irrigated was under 
 cultivation, save where a substantial looking farm- 
 house set in groves of fine trees, bamboos, cypress, 
 and namti, occupied a little knoll laboriously built up 
 above the encircling marsh. Last year their crumbling 
 walls testified to the security of the country, but I 
 wonder what has been the fate of these solitary houses 
 in the recent months of lawlessness. Toward the end 
 of the day a soft mist settled down upon the earth, 
 outlining the nearer hills and throwing up against 
 the sky the distant peaks.
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 163 
 
 We had tiffin at the little town of Ming Shan-hsien. 
 About five miles west of here rises from the plain the 
 Ming Shan, a small mountain famous throughout 
 China for its tea, which is grown by the priests of a 
 Buddhist temple on the summit. According to tra- 
 dition the seeds from which this tea is produced were 
 brought centuries ago from India by a Chinese pil- 
 grim. Only a few pounds are gathered annually and 
 these are always sent as tribute to Peking for the use 
 of the imperial household. To whom will they now 
 fall ? There is a saying current in China that to make 
 a first-rate cup of tea you must take " leaves from the 
 Ming Shan and water from the Yangtse." No one 
 believes for a moment that the turbid water of the 
 Great River is meant here, and yet no one could ex- 
 plain what it did mean. But De Rosthorn, in his 
 interesting pamphlet on "Tea Cultivation in Sze- 
 chuan," gives what seems to him the true explanation. 
 Crossing the bay at Chen-kiang he saw men in boats 
 filling buckets with water. Asking what they were 
 doing, he was told that there was a famous spring at 
 the bottom of the river well known from the time 
 when the river bed was dry land. Here, then, was the 
 Yangtse water which, combined with leaves brought 
 from Ming Shan two thousand miles away, made the 
 best tea in the world. 
 
 We stopped for the night at the village of Pai- 
 chang, where I spent a tiresome evening trying to
 
 164 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 arrange for a pony to take the place of mine, left 
 behind at Ya-chou, as he seemed in need of a longer 
 rest. The weather was now too hot for walking, but 
 all day in the chair was unendurable, so I hoped here 
 to hire a pony for half a stage. I refused to engage 
 one without seeing its back, but nothing appeared to 
 be inspected, why, I could not tell. The shifts and 
 turns of the oriental mind are not our shifts and turns, 
 so I finally gave up trying to find out, and went to 
 bed, telling the fu t'ou he must have something ready 
 in the morning, only if its back was sore I would not 
 take it. But morning came and no pony. I was told 
 it was waiting for me outside the town, and there it 
 was, sure enough. Ordering off saddle and blanket I 
 inspected its back to make certain that all was right, 
 as it was. But the strange ma-fu seemed quite over- 
 come with consternation at the sight of me, while the 
 fu t'ou collapsed on a stone wall near by, doubled up 
 with laughter. At last an explanation was made. 
 When the fu t'ou tried to get a pony for me from the 
 pony hong he was met by a refusal. No foreigner 
 should ride one of their horses ; they had let one to a 
 foreign gentleman not long before, and he had abused 
 it and gone so fast that the ma-fu could not keep up, 
 and nearly lost the pony ; nor were they to be moved. 
 Anyway, the fu t'ou told them, he must have one 
 himself. When it was brought to the inn at dawn he 
 mounted and rode outside the town. There, finding
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 165 
 
 he had forgotten something, me, he went back for 
 it, while pony and ma-fu waited. In true Chinese fash- 
 ion the ma-fu accepted the inevitable and walked 
 quietly at my side, but he had an anxious expression 
 at first, as though he expected me at any moment to 
 whip up my steed and vanish. I am not wise in 
 horseflesh, but at least I try to be merciful to my 
 beasts. When I got off, as I did now and then, to 
 save the horse over a particularly bad place, the man 
 began to cheer up, and finally when, according to 
 my custom, I took the pony outside the village to 
 graze a bit while the men had their breakfast, a 
 very unsuitable proceeding, I was later told, his 
 surprise broke forth. " What sort of a foreign woman 
 was this ? " At noon I sent the pony back, paying for 
 the half day one hundred and forty cash, about seven 
 cents gold. 
 
 Just before reaching Cheung-chou, where we were 
 to spend the night, we crossed the Nan Ho by a fine 
 stone bridge of fifteen arches. The Nan is one of the 
 lesser waterways of West China connecting this cor- 
 ner of Szechuan with the Great River, and many 
 cumbersome boats laden with produce were slipping 
 down with the rapid current on their way eastwards. 
 
 I entered the gate of the town with some doubt as. 
 to my reception. Baron von Richthofen, who passed 
 through here a generation ago, wrote of the place : 
 " All the men are armed with long knives and use
 
 166 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 them frequently in their rows. I have passed few 
 cities in China in which I have suffered so much mo- 
 lestation from the people as I did there ; and travel- 
 lers should avoid making night quarters there as it 
 was my lot to do." Time enough has elapsed since 
 the good baron went this way to have changed all 
 that, but the missionaries at Ya-chou had also cau- 
 tioned me against the temper of the people, relating 
 some unpleasant experiences of recent date. They 
 had kindly given me a note of introduction to two 
 missionaries who had their headquarters at Cheung- 
 chou who would make me safe and comfortable in 
 their house. I had sent this ahead only to learn that 
 the mission was closed, as the people were touring 
 in the district ; and so there was nothing to do but 
 go to the inn as usual. 
 
 In the narrow streets of the town there was of 
 course the everlasting pushing, staring crowd, but I 
 saw no signs of unfriendliness, and Jack's gay yaps 
 in response to pointing fingers and cries of " K'an 
 yang kou ! k'an yang kou ! " (" Look at the foreign 
 dog! look at the foreign dog!") brought the invari- 
 able grins of delight. Later in the day, wearying of 
 the confinement of the inn, and not unwilling to test 
 the temper of the people a bit, I went marketing 
 with the cook. Of course a crowd of men and boys 
 dogged my steps, but it was a good-natured crowd, 
 making way for me courteously, and when they found
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 167 
 
 that I was looking for apricots they fairly tumbled 
 over each other in their eagerness to show us the best 
 shop. 
 
 Cheung-chou lies on the southwestern edge of the 
 great plain of Chengtu, which, although only some 
 ninety miles long by seventy miles wide, supports a 
 population of four millions, so kindly is the climate, 
 so fertile the soil, and so abundant the water supply. 
 Two of these blessings are the gift of nature, but the 
 last is owed to the ingenuity of Li Ping and his 
 nameless son, known only as the " Second Gentle- 
 man," two Chinese officials who worked and achieved 
 and died more than two thousand years ago. At 
 Kwan-hsien there is a temple, perhaps the most beau- 
 tiful in China, erected in their memory, but their 
 truest monument is this beautiful plain, blossoming 
 like a Garden of Eden under the irrigation system 
 which they devised, and which will endure so long 
 as men obey their parting command engraved on a 
 stone in the temple, " Dig the channels deep ; keep 
 the banks low." 
 
 The people of the plain were as friendly as the 
 mountain folk I had been travelling amongst, but 
 they displayed less of the naive curiosity of the out- 
 of-the-way places. Evidently the foreigner was no 
 novelty, nor the camera either. At one village I 
 stopped to photograph a fine pailou, not to the " vir- 
 tuous official " this time, but to the " virtuous widow."
 
 168 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 A little group of villagers gathered to watch, and 
 would not be satisfied until I had taken a picture of 
 another local monument, a beautiful three-storied 
 stone pagoda rising tall and slender above the flat 
 rice land. These picturesque structures add much to 
 the charm of the level plain which tends to become 
 monotonous after a while. As far as one can see 
 stretches the paddy land in every stage of develop- 
 ment. Some fields are hardly more than pools of 
 water mirroring the clouds overhead. Others are 
 dotted over with thin clumps of rice through which the 
 ducks swim gaily, while still others are solid masses 
 of green, and transplanting has already begun. 
 
 Although we were now approaching the largest 
 city of West China, and the capital of the empire's 
 richest province, the roads went steadily from bad to 
 worse. Made with infinite labour centuries ago, they 
 had been left untouched ever since, and weather and 
 wear had done their work. For long stretches the 
 paving was quite gone ; elsewhere you wished it 
 were. The people have their explanation of these 
 conditions in the saying, " The hills are high and the 
 emperor far." It remains to be seen if that will hold 
 good of the new government. Certainly nothing will 
 mean so much in the development of the country as 
 good roads. We were now once more on the line of 
 wheeled traffic, and the wheelbarrow was never out 
 of sight or hearing. Enormous loads were borne
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 169 
 
 along on the large flat-bottomed freight barrow, while 
 on every hand we saw substantial looking farmer 
 folk, men, women, and children, going to town in the 
 same primitive fashion. 
 
 To save the journey a little for my chair-men, and 
 also for the fun of a new experience, I bargained 
 with a barrow-man to carry me for a few miles. My 
 coolies took it as a fine joke, and after starting me 
 off trotted on behind, but my military escort looked 
 troubled. No longer striding proudly in front, he 
 showed a desire to loiter behind, although so long as 
 my grand chair kept close at my heels he could save 
 his face by explaining my strange proceeding as the 
 mad freak of a foreigner. But finally, when I bade 
 the chair-men stop for a smoke at a rest-house, know- 
 ing they could easily overtake my slow-moving 
 vehicle, he too disappeared, and only took up his 
 station again at the head of the procession when I 
 went back to my chair after dismissing the barrow 
 with a payment of eighty cash for a ride of twenty- 
 five li. Barrow travelling is not as bad as it seems, 
 for there is a chair-back, and rests for the feet are 
 fixed on either side of the wheel. But in spite of the 
 dexterity with which the coolie trundled me over the 
 rough places and through the deep ruts, an upset 
 into an unsavoury rice-patch seemed unpleasantly 
 possible, and more than all, you can never lose con- 
 sciousness of the straining man behind.
 
 1 70 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 I thought the last stage into Chengtu would never 
 end ; the passing of people became more and more 
 incessant and tiring, while the hot-house temperature 
 of this rich lowland was most exhausting, and the 
 occasional downpours only made the roads more im- 
 passable without cooling the air. My coolies, coming 
 from higher altitudes, were almost used up. They 
 stopped often to rest, and hardly one was doing his 
 own work, making an exchange with another man, 
 unless he had given up entirely, sweating out his 
 job to some one hired on the way. So we straggled 
 along, a disorderly, spiritless crowd, showing a little 
 life only when Jack, whom nothing daunted, created 
 a diversion by chasing the village dogs along the 
 narrow earth balks between the fields, their favourite 
 resting-places. Then the whole party waked up, 
 cheering the little dog on with gay cries, and laugh- 
 ing impartially when hunter or hunted slipped into 
 the muck of a rice-patch, while the toilers by the 
 roadside thought we had all gone mad until they 
 saw what it was, and then they too joined in with 
 chuckles of delight. There is something quite child- 
 like in the way in which this old Chinese people wel- 
 comes any little break in the grey days of grinding 
 drudgery. 
 
 As the day wore on, one could guess that a great 
 centre of government and trade was near at hand ; 
 the traffic was continuous, coolies bent almost
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 171 
 
 double under their heavy burdens, laden barrows 
 creaking dolefully as they moved, foot travellers 
 plodding wearily along, groups of wild Tibetans 
 from the distant frontier, gorgeous mandarins re- 
 turning from an inspection tour, all were hurrying 
 towards the capital. Yes, we were nearing Marco 
 Polo's "large and noble" city of Sindin-fu and it 
 is to-day again a "large and noble" city, only 
 now it is known as Chengtu, and the days are not 
 so very far in the past when it was hardly a city 
 at all. 
 
 Szechuan's later history begins with the troubled 
 times that marked the fall of the Ming dynasty. 
 While the Manchus were busy establishing them- 
 selves at Peking, the outlying provinces of the em- 
 pire were given over to brigandage and civil strife. 
 Here in Chengtu an adventurer calling himself the 
 Emperor of the West succeeded in getting the upper 
 hand for a short time, and when his end came there 
 was little left to rule over save ruins and dead men, 
 which was hardly to be wondered at, seeing his idea 
 of ruling was to exterminate all his subjects. Baber 
 has made from De Mailla's " History of China " the 
 following summary of his measures: "Massacred: 
 32,310 undergraduates; 3000 eunuchs; 2000 of his 
 own troops; 27,000 Buddhist priests; 600,000 in- 
 habitants of Chengtu ; 280 of his own concubines ; 
 400,000 wives of his troops ; everybody else in the
 
 172 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 province. Destroyed: Every building in the province. 
 Burnt: Everything inflammable." 
 
 Since that time Szechuan has been repeopled and 
 to-day the capital has a population of quite three 
 hundred and fifty thousand, although the walls, that 
 in the thirteenth century extended twenty miles, are 
 now no more than twelve in length and enclose a 
 good deal of waste land. The wonderful bridges 
 described by Marco Polo, half a mile long and lined 
 with marble pillars supporting the tiled roof, no 
 longer exist, but the city still abounds in bridges of 
 a humbler sort, for it is crossed by the main stream 
 of the Min as well as by many smaller branches and 
 canals, all alive with big and little craft. Chengtu is 
 proud of its streets, which are well paved and broader 
 and cleaner than common, and on the whole it is an 
 attractive, well-built city. 
 
 The viceroy of the province has his seat here, and 
 Szechuan shares with the metropolitan province of 
 Chihli the honour of having one all to itself, and he is 
 more truly a viceroy than the others, for the Mantzu 
 and Tibetan territories lying to the west are admin- 
 istered through the provincial government and are 
 in a way tributary to it. Even from far Nepal on the 
 borders of India come the bearers of gifts to the 
 representative of the emperor. 
 
 Ser Marco speaks of the " fine cloth and crapes and 
 gauzes " of Chengtu, and still to-day the merchants
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 173 
 
 unroll at your feet as you sit on your verandah ex- 
 quisitely soft, shimmering silks and wonderful em- 
 broideries. It was these last that caught my fancy, 
 and the British Consul-General, himself a great col- 
 lector, kindly sent to the house his " second-best " 
 man and then his " first-best," and between the two 
 I made a few modest purchases at even more mod- 
 est prices. Imagine getting two strips of wonderful 
 silk embroidery for twenty cents gold, or two silk 
 squares ingeniously ornamented and pieced with gold 
 for the same contemptible sum. That was what the 
 men wanted at the missionary house where I was 
 staying ; at the Consul-General's they asked me 
 twenty-five cents : that is the price of being an official. 
 
 I liked even better to go to the shops, and Chengtu 
 is so progressive that that is quite possible. One sec- 
 tion is given over to brass and copper dishes, another 
 to furs, another to porcelains, and so on. Indeed, the 
 town seems to be a very good place for " picking up " 
 things, for hither come men from the far distant 
 Tibetan lamasseries, and patient effort is often re- 
 warded with interesting spoil, while Chinese produc- 
 tions of real value sometimes drift into the bazaar 
 from the collections of the ever-changing officials. 
 
 But I did not spend all my days bargaining for 
 curios, although they were tempting enough, for there 
 were other things to do more worth while. The Eu- 
 ropean community of Chengtu is surprisingly large
 
 i 7 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 for so far inland. In numbers, of course, the mission- 
 aries lead, and besides the Roman Catholic mission 
 there are representatives of English, American, and 
 Canadian churches, all working together to give to 
 this out-of-the-way corner of the empire the best of 
 Christian and Western civilization. Their latest and 
 most interesting undertaking is a university on West- 
 ern lines, the outcome of the combined effort of the 
 Friends', Baptist, and Methodist societies of Chengtu. 
 The economy and efficiency secured by cooperation 
 must be of even less value than the force of such a 
 lesson in Christian harmony to the keen-witted 
 Chinese. Indeed, all over China one is impressed by 
 the wisdom as well as the devotion of most of the mis- 
 sion work. And however it may be in the eastern 
 seaports, where I did not spend much time, inland 
 there seems to be the best of feeling between the dif- 
 ferent elements of the European community, official, 
 missionary, and merchant. Perhaps because they are 
 a mere handful in an alien people they are forced to 
 see each other's good points, and realize that neither 
 side is hopelessly bad nor impossibly good. 
 
 There is quite a large Tartar population in Chengtu, 
 and the Manchu quarter is one of the most pictur- 
 esque parts of the city, with the charm of a dilapi- 
 dated village set in untidy gardens and groves of fine 
 trees. Loafing in the streets and doorways are tall, 
 well-built men and women, but they had a rather
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 175 
 
 down-at-heel air, for their fortunes were at a low ebb 
 when I was in Chengtu. The military service they 
 once rendered had been displaced by the new mod- 
 ern trained troops, and three years ago their monthly 
 rice pension of four taels, about $2.50, was cut down 
 by a viceroy bidding for popular support. Although 
 Chengtu is two thousand miles from the sea, it is one 
 of the most advanced cities of China, and has no mind 
 to put up with outgrown things, such as Manchu 
 soldiers and Manchu pensions. It boasts to-day a mint 
 turning out a very respectable coinage, a large ar- 
 senal, and a university of more promise, perhaps, than 
 achievement ; and the pride of the moment was a new 
 arcade of shops where the goods were set out with 
 all the artifice of the West in large glazed windows. 
 Although Japanese and Europeans are employed, yet 
 these are all truly native undertakings, and that, to 
 my mind, is the best part of Chengtu's progress ; it 
 shows what the Chinese can do for themselves, not 
 simply following Western leadership. And on the 
 whole they seemed last year to be doing a number of 
 things very well. It argued real efficiency, I think, that 
 the officials at Chengtu knew at every moment the 
 whereabouts of the travelling foreigners in a province 
 larger than France. To be sure, we were only two, 
 Captain Bailey and myself, but all the same they 
 could not have done it save by a very up-to-date use 
 of the telegraph. And again, the Chengtu police are
 
 176 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 really guardians of the peace. I had a chance to see 
 the order that was kept one night when my chair-men 
 lost their way taking me to a dinner at the house of the 
 French Consul-General, quite across the city from 
 where I was staying. For more than an hour we 
 wandered about, poking into all sorts of dark corners, 
 finally reaching the consulate at half-past nine instead 
 of an hour earlier, and nowhere, either in thorough- 
 fare or alley, was there any rowdyism, and this though 
 it was the night of the Dragon Festival when all the 
 people were making holiday. But then under ordin- 
 ary conditions the Chinese is a peaceable man ; he 
 has his own interpretation of the rule of life : in or- 
 der to live, let others live. I met an example of that 
 in Peking. Opposite the hotel door stood a long line 
 of rickshaws. You soon had a favourite man, and after 
 that the others never thrust themselves forward, but, 
 instead, at once set up a shout for him if he failed to 
 note your appearance. However, the Chinese indi- 
 vidual is one thing, the Chinese mob another. It was 
 not many years since an infuriated crowd stormed 
 through the streets of Chengtu seeking the lives of 
 the foreigners, and in even fewer weeks after my visit 
 other crowds would besiege the viceroy's yamen de- 
 manding justice for their wrongs. For even when I 
 was there the undercurrent of discontent in the prov- 
 ince was visible. The students of the university, like 
 those in Yunnan-fu, had more than once got out of
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 177 
 
 hand ; people complained that the new educational 
 system lacked the discipline of the old, and indeed 
 Young China seems to outdo even Young America 
 in self-assurance, and in the spring of 191 1 the univer- 
 sity was just beginning to recover from the turmoil 
 of a strike of the students for some real or fancied 
 slight by the Government. 
 
 And there was more serious trouble afoot. The 
 Szechuan merchants and gentry, wealthy and enter- 
 prising, had contributed generously (for China) to 
 the building of a railway connecting the western 
 capital with Wan-hsien and Ichang, but now they 
 were hearing that the money had been squandered 
 and the railway was to be built with foreign capital. 
 It was bad enough to lose their money, but the evil 
 that might come in the trail of the foreigner's money 
 was worse. So people were talking hotly against 
 the new " railway agreement," and it proved in the 
 end the proverbial straw, for three months later 
 the Railway League of Szechuan set in motion the 
 revolution which overthrew the Manchus and the 
 empire. 
 
 But these things were still on the knees of the 
 gods, and my stay in Chengtu was altogether delight- 
 ful, save for the thought that here my out-of-the-way 
 journeying ended. Henceforth I should go by ways 
 often travelled by Europeans. And then I was leaving 
 so much behind. Of my caravan only three would
 
 1 7 8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 go on with me, the interpreter, the cook, and the 
 Yunnan coolie, who was ready to stay by me a little 
 longer. The rest I had paid off, giving to all a well- 
 earned tip, and receiving from each of my chair-men 
 in turn a pretty, embarrassed " Thank you," learned 
 from hearing me say it. The pony, too, would go no 
 farther, for most of the next month my travelling 
 would be by water, so I handed him over to a horse- 
 loving missionary, and I only hope he proved worthy 
 of his master. My chair, which had been such a com- 
 fort for so many weeks, was left in Chengtu waiting 
 a chance to be sent to Ning-yiian-fu, where I trust 
 it arrived in time to serve Mrs. Wellwood on her 
 hurried journey to Yunnan-fu at the outbreak of the 
 Revolution. Even the little dog came nigh to ending 
 his travels at Chengtu, for the Post Commissioner 
 put forward a claim of common Irish blood, which I 
 could hardly deny because of the many kindnesses 
 received from him. But I could not make up my mind 
 to part with my little comrade, and I said a deter- 
 mined nay. 
 
 It was early June when I started on the next stage 
 of my journey, a three days' trip down the Min River 
 to Chia-ting. The sun was sinking as I went on board 
 the " wu-pan " or native boat lying in the stream out- 
 side the South Gate, and after carefully counting 
 heads to make sure that the crew were all there, and 
 that we were carrying no unauthorized passengers,
 
 ACROSS CHENGTU PLAIN 179 
 
 we pushed off and the current took us rapidly out of 
 sight of Chengtu. 
 
 The trip to Chia-ting was very delightful. I was 
 tired enough to enjoy keeping still, and lying at ease 
 under my mat shelter I lazily watched the shores slip 
 past ; wooded slopes, graceful pagodas crowning the 
 headlands, long stretches of fields yellow with rape, 
 white, timbered farmhouses peeping out from groves 
 of bamboo and orange and cedar, it was all a beau- 
 tiful picture of peaceful, orderly life and industry. 
 Each night we tied up near some village where the 
 cook and boat people could go a-marketing, gener- 
 ally coming back after an hour with one vegetable 
 or two. As the river was high, we made good speed, 
 and on the morning of the third day after starting, 
 the picturesque red bluffs opposite Chia-ting came in 
 sight.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 
 
 F I ^HE rose-red city of Chia-ting lives in my mem- 
 A ory as a vision of beauty, the most charming 
 (at a distance) of the many charming (always at a 
 distance) Chinese towns that I have seen. Built on a 
 sandstone ledge at the junction of the Ta Tu and Ya 
 with the Min, its crenellated red walls rise almost 
 directly from the water, which, when in flood, dashes 
 high against the foundations. On the northwest the 
 city rises to nearly three hundred feet above the level, 
 and standing on the wall one looks down upon a sea 
 of living green from which rise temple and pagoda, 
 or west across Chia-ting plain, perhaps the loveliest 
 and most fertile spot in the Chinese Eden, and then 
 farther west still to where on the horizon towers Omei 
 Shan, the Holy of Holies of Buddhist China, often, 
 alas, shrouded in mist from base to summit, for this 
 is a land of clouds and rain and floods. 
 
 Looking across the river to the great cliffs oppo- 
 site the town, one discerns dimly, carved on the face 
 of the rock, the wonder of the region, a colossal 
 Buddha more than three hundred feet in height, sit- 
 ting serenely with his hands on his knees, and his
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 181 
 
 feet, or what ought to be his feet, laved by the rush- 
 ing water of the Ta Fo Rapid. As the tale runs, this 
 was the work of a good monk of the eighth century, 
 who spent his life over the undertaking in the hope 
 that by this pious act he might avert the terrible 
 floods that devastated the region. A mighty task 
 boldly conceived and patiently carried out, but still 
 the rain pours down, and still the rivers rise and 
 drown the land. 
 
 Baber tells the dramatic story of one of the greatest 
 of the floods. It occurred in 1 786 when the fall of a cliff 
 in the Ta Tu dammed the river completely for a time. 
 Warnings were sent to the villages along the banks, 
 and many fled to the hills, but the people of Chia- 
 ting, trusting to their open plain over which the water 
 could spread itself, scouted the warning, and the cry, 
 " Shui lai-la" (" The water is coming"), became the 
 catchword of the hour. Let Baber tell the rest : 
 
 " It was holiday in Chia-ting some days after the 
 receipt of the notice, and the light hearted crowds 
 which gathered on such occasions were chiefly at- 
 tracted by a theatrical representation on the flat by 
 the water-side. One of the actors suddenly stopped 
 in the middle of his r61e, and gazing up the river, 
 screamed out the now familiar by-word, ' Shui lai-la ! ' 
 This repetition of the stock jest, with well-simulated 
 terror, as it seemed to the merry-makers, drew shouts 
 of laughter ; but the echoes of the laugh were drowned
 
 i82 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 in the roar of a deluge. I was told how the gleeful 
 faces turned to horror as the flood swept on like a 
 moving wall, and overwhelmed twelve thousand 
 souls." 
 
 While in Chia-ting I crossed the river one day to 
 see the great Buddha from near by, but it is very 
 difficult to get a good view of the image. The river 
 runs at the foot of the cliff at such a rate that it was 
 all the boatmen could do to keep us off the rocks, and 
 looking down from above, the overhanging shrubs 
 and grasses almost hide it from sight. There is an 
 interesting monastery on the summit of the hill, called 
 the " Monastery of the Voice of the Waters." Here I 
 spent a delightful hour wandering through the neg- 
 lected garden and looking over the treasures of the 
 place, a rather remarkable collection of drawings and 
 inscriptions engraved on slate, the work of distin- 
 guished visitors of past times, some dating back even 
 to the Sung period. There were landscapes extremely 
 well done, others were merely a flower or branch of a 
 blooming shrub, but all bore some classic quotation 
 in ornamental Chinese character. I bought of the 
 priest for a dollar a bundle of really fine rubbings of 
 these engravings. At another monastery a gallery full 
 of images of the " Lo-han," the worthiest of Buddha's 
 disciples, was being tidied up. The variety of pose 
 and expression in these fifty-odd life-size images was 
 extraordinary, and some of them were wonderfully
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 183 
 
 good, but the workmen handled them without re- 
 spect as they cleaned and painted. It is a Chinese 
 proverb that says, "The image-maker does not wor- 
 ship the gods ; he knows what they are made of." 
 
 There is one drawback to the delights of Chia-ting, 
 and that is the climate. To live and work in the damp 
 heat that prevails much of the time must test the 
 strength, and I imagine the Europeans stationed here 
 find it so. Chia-ting boasts two strong Protestant 
 missions, American Baptist and Canadian Methodist, 
 well equipped with schools and a hospital, and they 
 are hard at work making Chia-ting over, body and 
 soul. At the time of my visit they were engaged in 
 a strenuous contest with the representatives of the 
 British American Tobacco Company, and both sides 
 were placarding the town with posters setting forth 
 the evils or the benefits of cigarette-smoking. 
 
 Chia-ting is the great point of departure for Mount 
 Omei, thirty miles away, and I stayed only long 
 enough to rearrange my kit and hire coolies for the 
 trip. Again I had a chance to see the strength that 
 the Chinese have through organization. Each quarter 
 of Chia-ting has its coolie hong, and woe betide you 
 if you fall out with your own ; you will have difficulty 
 in getting served elsewhere. Fortunately my host was 
 on good terms with his proper hong, and after a good- 
 humored, long-drawn-out discussion I secured the 
 men I wanted.
 
 184 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 It was raining when we started from Chia-ting and 
 it kept on all day. Nevertheless, as soon as I was out- 
 side the West Gate of the city I exchanged my closed 
 chair for one specially devised for the mountain 
 climb, simply a bamboo chair furnished with a swing- 
 ing board for a foot-rest It gave of course no pro- 
 tection against sun or rain, but there was nothing to 
 cut off the view. The closed chair affected by the 
 Chinese seemed to me intolerable, a stuffy box half 
 closed in front, and with mere loopholes on the sides. 
 But fifteen years ago no European woman could 
 ride in anything else without danger of being mobbed. 
 
 All the first day we were crossing the beautiful 
 Chia-ting plain, seamed and watered by many rivers 
 and streams. The path wound in and out among 
 splendid fields of maize and fine fruit orchards, and 
 the comfortable looking villages were densely shaded 
 with oak and mulberry trees. It ought to be a pros- 
 perous district, for not only is it rich in natural re- 
 sources, but the throngs of pilgrims that pass through 
 here on their way to the Sacred Mountain must 
 bring a lot of money into the towns. 
 
 At the start we kept above the Ta Tu, but later we 
 crossed the Ya, now a strong-flowing tranquil 'river, 
 and farther along still at the little town of Siichi 
 (" Joyous Stream "), famous for its silk, we came to 
 the Omei, which has its sources on the lower slopes 
 of the Great Mountain. After this the country was
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 185 
 
 more broken, but everywhere there was the same 
 careful cultivation, and on all sides we heard the 
 plash of falling water and the soft whirr of the great 
 Persian wheels busily at work bringing water to the 
 thirsty land ; and occasionally we saw men working 
 with the foot a smaller wheel by which the next 
 higher levels were irrigated. 
 
 Chen Chia Ch'ang, a small market-town a few 
 miles east of Omei-hsien, made a charming picture, 
 its walls shining white against the dark background 
 of the mountain as we approached it across the green 
 rice-fields. Entering its broad, crowded street we 
 found a theatrical performance going on in an open 
 hall opposite the temple. While my coolies were 
 drinking tea I joined the crowd in front of the stage, 
 which was raised several feet above the street. The 
 play, which was in honour of the village idol, was 
 beyond my comprehension, but the pantomime of 
 the actors was very good. This sort of thing is dearly 
 liked by the Chinese. The players are usually main- 
 tained by the village, and a good deal of the unpopu- 
 larity of the Christian converts arises, I am told, from 
 their unwillingness to contribute because of the so- 
 called idolatrous character of the performance. 
 
 The town of Omei where we spent the night seems 
 to exist chiefly for the sake of the thousands of pil- 
 grims who make a last halt here before they begin 
 the ascent of the mountain. Mindful of the many
 
 186 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Tibetans who pass through here in the spring, I made 
 a raid upon the shops, but in vain ; all that I found 
 was two good pieces of Chinese bronze. The owner 
 and I could not agree on a price, so I left him to 
 think it over until I came by again, and then he was 
 away and his wife did not dare unlock his cases, al- 
 though I offered her what he had asked. The rain 
 poured down, but a crowd gathered to offer sympa- 
 thy and suggestions, while my men and I argued 
 with her. Would she not fare worse if her husband 
 found she had missed a sale than if she disobeyed 
 orders ? All to no purpose, so I went away empty- 
 handed. That evening it rained brass pots, but alas, 
 nothing that I wanted. 
 
 Usually in these small places the woman seems a 
 very active member of the establishment, and I am 
 told that a man often wishes to consult his wife before 
 making a large deal. The Chinese woman, perhaps, 
 lacks the charm of the Japanese or Indian, but in 
 spite of her many handicaps she impresses the out- 
 sider with her native good sense and forcefulness, 
 and I should expect that even more than the other 
 two she would play a great part in the development 
 of her people when her chance came. 
 
 It was again raining when we started the next 
 morning ; indeed, it seemed a long time since I had 
 felt really dry, but the grey day harmonized perfectly 
 with the soft English beauty of the country that lies
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 187 
 
 between Omei-hsien and the foot of the mountain, 
 wooded lanes and glens, little brooks rippling be- 
 tween flowery banks, fine stone bridges spanning the 
 swift green Omei, red temples overhung by splendid 
 banyan trees, and over all the dark mysterious moun- 
 tain, lifting its crown ten thousand feet above our 
 heads. Did ever pilgrim tread a more beautiful path 
 to the Delectable Mountains? And there were so 
 many pilgrims, men and women, all clad in their best, 
 and with the joy of a holiday shining in their faces. 
 There were few children, but some quite old people, 
 and many were women hobbling pluckily along on 
 their tiny feet ; the majority, however, were young 
 men, chosen perhaps as the most able to perform the 
 duty for the whole family. They seemed mostly of a 
 comfortable farmer class ; the very poor cannot afford 
 the journey; and as for the rich does wealth ever 
 go on a pilgrimage nowadays? All carried on the 
 back a yellow bag (yellow is Buddha's colour) con- 
 taining bundles of tapers to burn before the shrines, 
 and in their girdles were strings of cash to pay their 
 way ; priests and beggars alike must be appeased. 
 
 After an hour or so we left behind the cultivation 
 of the valley, and entered the wild gorge of the Omei, 
 and after this our path led upwards through fine 
 forests of ash and oak and pine. The road grew 
 steeper and steeper, often just a rough staircase of 
 several hundred steps, over which we slipped and
 
 i88 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 scrambled. Rain dripped from the branches, brooks 
 dashed down the mountain-side. We had left behind 
 the great heat of the plain, but within the walls of 
 the forest the air was warm and heavy. But nothing 
 could damp the ardour of the pilgrim horde. A few 
 were in chairs ; I had long since jumped out of mine, 
 although as Liu complained, "Why does the Ku Ni- 
 ang hire one if she will not use it? " He dearly loved 
 his ease, but had scruples about riding if I walked, or 
 perhaps his bearers had. Some of the wayfarers, old 
 men and women, were carried pick-a-back on a board 
 seat fastened to the coolie's shoulders. It looked hor- 
 ribly insecure and I much preferred trusting to my 
 own feet, but after all I never saw an accident, while 
 I fell many times coming down the mountain. 
 
 The beginnings of Mount Omei's story go back to 
 the days before writing was, and of myth and legend 
 there is a great store, and naturally enough. This 
 marvel of beauty and grandeur rising stark from the 
 plain must have filled the man of the lowlands with 
 awe and fear, and his fancy would readily people 
 these inaccessible heights and gloomy forests with 
 the marvels of primitive imagination. On the north 
 the mountain rises by gentle wooded slopes to a 
 height of nearly ten thousand feet above the plain, 
 while on the south the summit ends in a tremendous 
 precipice almost a mile up and down as though 
 slashed off by the sword of a Titan.
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 189 
 
 Perhaps in earliest times the Lolos worshipped 
 here, and the mountain still figures in their legends. 
 But Chinese tradition goes back four thousand years 
 when pious hermits made their home on Omei. And 
 there is a story of how the Yellow Emperor, seeking 
 immortality, came to one of them. But Buddha now 
 reigns supreme on Omei ; of all the many temples, one 
 only is Taoist. According to the legend, at the very 
 beginning of Buddhist influence in China, P'u-hsien 
 Bodhisattva revealed himself to a wandering official 
 in that wonderful thing known as " Buddha's Glory," 
 and from this time on, Mount Omei became the 
 centre from which the light of Buddhist teaching was 
 spread abroad over the entire country. 
 
 The land now belongs to the Church, and there are 
 not many people on the mountain besides the two 
 thousand monks scattered about in the different mon- 
 asteries which occupy every point where a flat spur 
 or buttress offers a foothold. Each has its objects of 
 interest or veneration, and I believe that to do one's 
 duty by Omei, one must burn offerings before sixty- 
 two shrines. Judging by the determined look on some 
 of the pilgrims' faces, they were bent on making the 
 grand tour in the shortest time possible ; in fact, they 
 almost raced up the breakneck staircases. To save 
 expense, some make the whole ascent of one hun- 
 dred and twenty li from Omei-hsien in a day. Even 
 women on their bound feet sometimes do this, I am
 
 190 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 told. I would not believe it on any authority had I not 
 seen for myself the tramps these poor crippled crea- 
 tures often take. 
 
 As I was in no hurry, we stopped for the night at 
 Wan-nien Ssu, or the " Monastery of Ten Thousand 
 Years," one of the largest on the mountain and with 
 a recorded history that goes back more than fifteen 
 hundred years. We were made very welcome, for the 
 days have passed when foreigners were turned from 
 the door. Their patronage is eagerly sought and also 
 their contributions. After inspecting our quarters, 
 which opened out of an inner court and were spacious 
 and fairly clean, I started out at once to see the sights 
 of the place, for daylight dies early in these dense 
 woods. Like all the rest Wan-nien Ssu is plainly built 
 of timbers, and cannot compare with the picturesque 
 curly-roofed buildings one sees in the plains below. 
 Indeed, it reminded me of the Tibetan lamasseries 
 about Tachienlu, and it is true that thousands of Ti- 
 betans find their way hither each spring, and the hill- 
 sides reecho their mystic spell, "Om mani padme 
 hum," only less often than the Chinese, " Omi to fo." 
 
 Behind the building where I was quartered is an- 
 other, forming part of the same monastery, and within 
 is concealed rather than displayed the treasure of the 
 place, and indeed the most wonderful monument on 
 the mountain, a huge image of P'u-hsien enthroned 
 on the back of a life-size elephant, all admirably cast
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 191 
 
 in bronze. Although dating from the ninth century, 
 the wonderful creation remained unknown to the 
 "outside barbarian" until Baber came this way a 
 generation ago. He speaks of it as probably the 
 " most ancient bronze casting of any great size in 
 existence." It is a sad pity that no one has succeeded 
 in getting a good picture of this notable work, but 
 not merely is it railed about with a stone palisade, 
 but the whole is enclosed in a small building of heavy 
 brick and masonry with walls twelve feet thick, which 
 secure it against wind and rain, but also keep out 
 most of the light. 
 
 Wan-nien Ssu boasts another treasure more readily 
 displayed, a so-called tooth of Buddha weighing about 
 eighteen pounds. The simple pilgrims looked on rev- 
 erently as the priests held it before me, but the latter 
 had a knowing look when I expressed my wonder at 
 the stature of the being who had teeth of such size. 
 Probably they knew as well as I that it was an ele- 
 phant's molar, but they were not above playing on 
 the credulity of the ignorant folk. 
 
 Out of respect for the feelings of the monks I had 
 brought up no fresh meat, and of course there is none 
 to be obtained on the mountain, so I dined rather 
 meagrely. Although the people generally do not 
 hesitate to eat meat when they can get it, the priests 
 hold stiffly to the Buddhist discipline which forbids 
 the taking of life, and it is only unwillingly that they
 
 I 9 2 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 have acquiesced in foreigners' bringing meat into 
 the monastic precincts or even onto the mountain. 
 But at least they did their best to make good any 
 lack by sending in dishes of Chinese sweetmeats, 
 candied seeds, ginger, dried fruits. After dinner one 
 of the younger priests sat for a long time by my 
 brazier, amusing himself with Jack, the like of whom 
 he had never seen before, and asking many simple 
 questions. What was I writing ? How did I live ? 
 Where would I go when I went away ? Where was 
 my husband ? the same questions asked everywhere 
 by the untutored, be it in the mountains of Kentucky 
 or on the sacred heights of Mount Omei. 
 
 On leaving the next morning the "Yuan-pu," or 
 "Subscription Book of the Temple," a substantial 
 volume in which one writes one's name and donation, 
 was duly put before me. Being warned beforehand I 
 knew what to give, and I was not to be moved even 
 though my attention was called to much larger sums 
 given by other visitors ; but I had also been told of 
 the trick practised here of altering the figures as 
 served their purpose, so I was not moved even by 
 this appeal. 
 
 The next day brought us to the summit after a 
 wearying pull up interminable rock staircases as 
 steep as the steepest attic stairs, and hundreds of feet 
 high. Most of the time we were in thick woods, only 
 occasionally coming out into a little clearing, but
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 193 
 
 even when the trees fell away, and there ought to 
 have been a view, nothing was to be seen, for the 
 thick mists shut out all above and below. We passed 
 by innumerable monasteries, most of them looking 
 prosperous and well patronized ; they must reap 
 a rich harvest in cash from the countless pilgrims. 
 Everywhere building was going on, indicating hope- 
 ful fortunes, or, more likely, recent disaster, for it is 
 the prevailing dampness alone that saves the whole 
 mountainside from being swept by fires, and they are 
 all too frequent as it is. 
 
 It is one of the many topsy-turvy things in topsy- 
 turvy China that this prosaic people is so addicted 
 to picturesque and significant terms. I found the 
 names of some of the monasteries quite as interesting 
 as anything else about them. From the " Pinnacle of 
 Contemplation " you ascend to the " Monastery of 
 the White Clouds," stopping to rest in the "Hall of 
 the Tranquil Heart," and passing the "Gate to 
 Heaven " you enter the " Monastery of Everlasting 
 Joy." 
 
 Toward the summit the forest dwindled until there 
 was little save scrub pine and oak, a kind of dwarf 
 bamboo, and masses of rhododendron. At last we 
 came out into a large clearing just as the sun burst 
 from the clouds, lighting up the gilded ball that 
 surmounts the monastery where I hoped to find 
 shelter, the Chin Tien, or " Golden Hall of the True
 
 194 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Summit," a group of low timbered buildings, quite 
 without architectural pretensions. Entering the open 
 doorway I faced a large shrine before which wor- 
 shippers were bending undisturbed by our noisy 
 entrance. Stairs on either hand of the shrine led to a 
 large grassy court surrounded on all four sides by 
 one-story buildings, connected by a broad corridor 
 or verandah, and back of this, steep steps led to a 
 temple perched on the very edge of the great cliff. 
 
 A young priest came to meet me and very courte- 
 ously showed me the guest-rooms, allowing me to 
 choose two in the most retired corner, one for myself 
 and another for the interpreter and cook, while the 
 coolies found comfortable quarters near by. View 
 there was none, for my room, though adorned with 
 real glazed windows, looked out on a steep bank, 
 but at least it had an outside door through which I 
 might come and go at will. The furniture was of the 
 usual sort, only in better condition than ordinarily ; 
 heavy beds, chairs, tables, but everything was sur- 
 prisingly clean and sweet-smelling. 
 
 Here in this Buddhist monastery on the lofty sum- 
 mit of China's most sacred mountain I spent three 
 peaceful days, happy in having a part in the simple 
 life about me. Chin Tien is one of the largest and 
 most prosperous of Omei's monasteries, and it is also 
 one of the best conducted. Everything was orderly 
 and quiet. Discipline seemed well maintained, and
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 195 
 
 there was no unseemly begging for contributions as 
 at Wan-nien Ssu. It boasts an abbot and some twenty- 
 five full-fledged monks and acolytes. All day long 
 pilgrims, lay and monastic, were coming and going, 
 and the little bell that is rung to warn the god of the 
 presence of a worshipper tinkled incessantly. Some 
 were monks who had come long distances, perhaps 
 from farthermost Tibet, making the great pilgrimage 
 to "gain merit" for themselves and for their mon- 
 astery. Many of the houses on Omei gave to these 
 visitors crude maps or plans of the mountain, duly 
 stamped with the monastery seal, as proof that the 
 journey had been made, and on my departure one 
 such, properly sealed with the Chin Tien stamp, was 
 given to me. 
 
 One day was like another, and all were peaceful 
 and full of interest. I expect the weather was as good 
 as one could look for at this season of the year ; 
 although the mists rolled in early in the forenoon 
 shutting out the plain, yet there was little rain, and 
 the night and dawn were glorious. Each morning I 
 was out before sunrise, and standing on the steps of 
 the upper temple saw the whole western horizon re- 
 vealed before my enchanted eyes. A hundred miles 
 away stretched the long line of the Tibetan snow- 
 peaks, their tops piercing the sky. It seemed but a 
 step from earth to heaven, and how many turn away 
 from the wonderful sight to take that step. Two
 
 196 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 strides back and you are standing awestruck on the 
 edge of the stupendous precipice. The fascination of 
 the place is overpowering, whether you gaze straight 
 down into the black depths or whether the mists, 
 rolling up like great waves of foam, woo you gently 
 to certain death. No wonder the place is called " The 
 Rejection of the Body," and that men and women 
 longing to free themselves from the weary Wheel of 
 Life, seek the " Peace of the Great Release " with one 
 wild leap into the abyss below. 
 
 At every hour of the day pilgrims were standing at 
 the railed-in edge of the cliff, straining their eyes to 
 see into the uttermost depths below, or looking sky- 
 wards for a sight of " Buddha's Glory," that strange 
 phenomenon which has never been quite explained ; 
 it may be akin to the Spectre of the Brocken, but to 
 the devout Buddhist pilgrim it is the crowning mar- 
 vel of Mount Omei. 
 
 Looking off to the north and east one saw stretched 
 out, nearly ten thousand feet below, the green plains 
 and silver rivers of Szechuan. Southward rose the 
 black peaks and ranges of Lololand, buttressed on 
 the north by the great, table-shaped Wa Shan, sec- 
 ond only to Omei in height and sacredness. 
 
 Before the first day was past every one had become 
 accustomed to my presence, and I attracted no at- 
 tention as I came and went. My wants were looked 
 after, and one or the other of the little acolytes spent
 
 THE "REJECTION OF THE BODY 
 Cliff a mile high. Mount Omei, West Szechuan
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 197 
 
 many hours in my room, tending the fire in the bra- 
 zier, or playing with Jack, or munching the sweet- 
 meats with which I was kept supplied. They were 
 nice little lads and did not bother me, and rarely did 
 any one else disturb my quiet ; it was such a comfort 
 after the living in public of the last month. 
 
 The second morning of my stay I attended an 
 early service in the lower temple near my room. 
 Some twelve monks took part ; one, the abbot, was a 
 large, fine-looking man, and all had rather agreeable 
 faces, quite unlike the brutal, vicious look of the la- 
 mas of Tachienlu. There was much that recalled the 
 ritual of the Roman Catholic Church, processions, 
 genuflexions, chanting, burning of incense, lighting 
 of candles, tinkling of bells, all centring round a 
 great figure of Sakyamuni. The words I could not 
 understand, but the reverent expression on the monks' 
 faces, their orderly bearing as they circled slowly 
 round, keeping always the bared right shoulder to- 
 ward the image, made the service very impressive 
 in spite of the pranks of the little acolytes and the 
 loud talk of passing men and women. 
 
 In turn I visited the near-by temples, but few were 
 of any special interest The hilltop has been burnt over 
 several times, the last time within a generation, and 
 all the buildings on the summit are of recent date. 
 The most famous of all, the great bronze temple 
 dating from the fifteenth century, which after being
 
 I 9 8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 struck by lightning several times was finally de- 
 stroyed, has never been restored, thus giving the lie 
 to the popular belief that what the lightning destroys 
 the gods will replace. The fragments of castings that 
 are left are really fine, and it is a marvel how they 
 ever were brought from Chengtu where they were 
 made, for many are of great weight. A little below 
 the trail by which we came was the pewter-roofed 
 monastery, very appropriate here, as pewter is the 
 only metal the Buddhist pilgrim is supposed to use 
 or possess. 
 
 But after all, the charm of the place lay not in this 
 or that building or relic, but in the beauty of the sur- 
 roundings and in the peace of spirit that seemed to 
 abide here. No need to cast one's self over the preci- 
 pice to secure freedom from the body. Here on the 
 high mountain-top among these simple minds, the 
 cares and bothers of the life of the plain seemed to 
 fall off. If I came as a sight-seer I went away in the 
 mood of a pilgrim. Turning my back upon the 
 crowded paths I spent long hours of quiet under 
 the pines on the western slope, facing always toward 
 the mountains. Sometimes the clouds concealed them 
 wholly, at other times just one peak emerged, and 
 then perhaps for a moment the mists rolled away, 
 and the whole snowy line stood revealed like the 
 ramparts of a great city, the city of God. 
 
 And the best of all was not the day, but the night.
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 199 
 
 The monastery went early to bed, and by ten o'clock 
 bells had ceased to ring, the lights were out. Then 
 came my time. Slipping out of my room I stole up 
 the slope to the overhanging brow of the cliff. The 
 wind had died down, the birds were still, not a sound 
 broke the great silence. At my feet were the depths, 
 to the west rose height on height, and on all lay the 
 white light of the moon. Close by hundreds of weary 
 pilgrims were sleeping heavily on their hard beds. 
 Day after day and year after year they climbed these 
 steeps seeking peace and help, pinning their hopes 
 to burning joss stick and tinkling bell and mystic 
 words, and in Western lands were other pilgrims en- 
 tangled likewise in the mazes of dogma and form. 
 But here among the stars, in the empty, soundless 
 space of the white night, the gods that man has 
 created seemed to vanish, and there stood out clear 
 the hope that when time has ceased, 
 
 "When whelmed are altar, priest, and creed; 
 
 When all the faiths have passed; 
 Perhaps, from darkening incense freed, 
 God may emerge at last." 
 
 Finally the day came when I was forced to turn 
 away from the miracles of Omei. Our stores were 
 almost gone, and the coolies had burnt their last joss 
 sticks; so I took farewell of the kindly monks of 
 Chin Tien and started down the mountain. The sun 
 shone as we set off, but as we descended, the clouds
 
 200 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 gathered and the rain fell in torrents. Each steep, 
 straight staircase was a snare to our feet. Sprawling 
 and slithering we made our way down. No one es- 
 caped, and the woods resounded with gay cries, 
 " Have a care, Omi to fo ! Hold on tight, Omi to fo ! 
 Now, go ahead, Omi to fo ! " There was no going 
 slowly, you stood still or went with a rush. Women 
 tottering along on crippled feet pointed cheerily at 
 my big shoes. I dare say the difference in size con- 
 soled them for all their aches and pains. 
 
 It was almost dark when we reached Omei-hsien, 
 soaked to the skin. I had a big fire made for the 
 coolies and we all gathered round in companionable 
 fashion for the last time. The return journey the next 
 day across the plain was as charming as ever, but 
 the steamy heat of the low level was very depressing, 
 and we were all glad to take to a boat for the last 
 twenty-two li. 
 
 I had one more day in Chia-ting, visiting one or 
 two temples and making the last arrangements for 
 the trip down the river to Chung-king. Wisely 
 helped by one of the American missionaries I secured 
 a very comfortable wu-pan, for which I paid twenty- 
 five dollars Mexican. It was well fitted out, and 
 equipped with a crew of seven, including the cap- 
 tain's wife, and a small dog known as the " tailless 
 one." We started down the river late in the after- 
 noon. There was just time for one look at the Great
 
 OMEI SHAN, THE SACRED 201 
 
 Buddha as the current hurled us almost under his 
 feet, then a last glance at the beautiful town, all rose 
 and green, and a wonderful chapter in my journey- 
 ing had come to an end. Only three months later 
 and Chia-ting was aflame with the fires of revolution, 
 for it was the first city in all Szechuan to declare for 
 the Republic, and there was many a fierce contest in 
 its narrow, winding streets.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 
 
 AFTER the toilsome life of the last three months 
 it was good to look forward to ten days or so 
 of laziness, for surely river travel may be the most 
 luxurious of any sort of journeying, and even a 
 humble native boat on the Yangtse affords many 
 delights. You make yourself comfortable with your 
 own bed and chair, stop at your pleasure, go as you 
 choose, without hurry and without noise through 
 charmingly varied scenery, now soft and cultivated, 
 now wild and grand. 
 
 My own little apartment occupied the middle of 
 the boat, screened off with mats and curtains from 
 the ends occupied by the boat people and my men, 
 and though it was necessarily a thoroughfare, my 
 privacy was always respected and no one attempted 
 to enter without permission. By an ingenious ar- 
 rangement of the mat roof I could lie at ease on my 
 camp-bed and watch the shores slip past, but toward 
 evening when the sun was setting, I often sat out on 
 the extreme prow of the boat where I could enjoy the 
 full sweep of the view up and down. Liu, the cook,
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 203 
 
 had provided himself with a little cement cooking 
 arrangement on which he prepared me very savoury 
 messes. He and the Yunnan coolie and the inter- 
 preter and the boat people all chummed together very 
 amicably, and I was impressed again, as so many 
 times before, by the essential democracy of China. 
 The interpreter was several pegs above the others, 
 socially, but he showed no objection at going in with 
 them, and more than once, when the inns were 
 crowded, took up his quarters with the coolies, but 
 he always got well waited upon. Nor was the cap- 
 tain's wife kept in seclusion (it would have been 
 hard, indeed, to get it in a thirty-foot wu-pan), but all 
 day long I could hear her chatting with the men in 
 cheerful give-and-take fashion. 
 
 By the way, the name which Europeans give to 
 the river down which I was floating, the Min, is 
 quite unknown to the Chinese, and it may have ori- 
 ginated with the Jesuits, the first men from the West 
 to make their home in Szechuan. By the natives 
 the river is sometimes called the "Fu" because of 
 the three " fu " towns on its banks, Chengtu, Chia- 
 ting, and Suifu, and sometimes they speak of it 
 as the Ta-kiang, regarding it as the upper waters of 
 the Yangtse. 
 
 Below Chia-ting the river, by whatever name called, 
 flows through a smiling, open country, with gently 
 varied scenery. The soft slopes on either hand were
 
 204 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 richly cultivated with maize and rape, and nameless 
 little villages, picturesque with black timbered houses 
 and red temples, peeped out of groves of banyan and 
 bamboo and orange. Then the hills closed in on the 
 river and the current ran like a millrace. Often a 
 promontory was crowned with one of the many- 
 storied white " chuman" pagodas of Szechuan, while 
 in the face of a cliff I could now and then discern 
 openings which I knew were the famous, mysterious 
 cave-dwellings of a bygone time and an unknown 
 people found all about Chia-ting. I visited one that 
 had been converted into a miniature temple, and 
 there are several in one of the mission compounds. 
 I believe they are known only in this region. They 
 have been excavated by an expert hand, showing 
 traces, it is thought, of Indian influence. Much con- 
 jecture has been expended upon them, and as yet 
 there is no advance upon Baber's conclusion " that 
 these excavations are of unknown date, and have 
 been undertaken for unexplained purposes, by a 
 people of doubtful identity." 
 
 As the river was now high, the current carried us 
 along at a good speed, but I was in no hurry and we 
 made many stops, when I got out to stretch my legs 
 along the bank. At night we always tied up, and it 
 took some effort to secure a place to the liking of us 
 all. I wanted air and quiet, but the desire of my boat 
 people was set on a chance to go a-marketing or to
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 205 
 
 do a little visiting. Sometimes I got what I wished, 
 sometimes they did, but they did their best, I think, 
 to gratify my strange whims. 
 
 One night when they had their way and we were 
 tied up to a shingle alongside some forty or fifty 
 junks and small craft, we had all to turn out on a 
 grand hunt for the "tailless one" who had gone 
 astray. As soon as the plank was down, I went 
 ashore followed by the dogs. As it grew dark I sat 
 down on a rock not far away, and Jack curled up by 
 me, but the other one went back to the boat. Pre- 
 sently I saw the men come ashore and walk up and 
 down swinging their paper lanterns and sending out 
 long, loud cries. The little dog was missing, and they 
 were afraid he was being kept concealed on one of 
 the other boats, for, so they said, people liked to steal 
 little dogs. I asked if they thought it would help if I 
 went with them along the beach and they called out 
 that I was looking for the dog. They were sure it 
 would, so we paraded up and down the long line of 
 junks, flashing out our lanterns while the men called, 
 not to the junk people, for "face" must be saved, but 
 to the little dog himself, " O tailless one, come home, 
 O tailless one, come home, the foreign devil is seek- 
 ing thee." And presently there was a joyful shout 
 from our boat. The "tailless one " had come walking 
 up the gangplank, quietly returned under cover of 
 darkness. The men were immensely pleased, and
 
 206 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 said it was all due to me ; the people were afraid to 
 steal from a foreigner. 
 
 Three days after leaving Chia-ting, we came in 
 sight of Suifu, most picturesquely set on a rocky 
 slope at the junction of the Min and the Yangtse. 
 But how changed was the Great River since I crossed 
 it at Lung-kai, four hundred miles to the west. There 
 it dashed furiously along, dammed in between preci- 
 pitous cliffs and fretted to foam by rocky reefs. Now 
 it flowed broad and deep and quiet between soft 
 wooded banks, bearing many craft on its strong 
 current. 
 
 The streets of the prosperous city of Suifu, the 
 starting-point of all overland traffic to Yunnan, are 
 broad and attractive, and there was a great display 
 of fruit and vegetables in the open shops, but it needs 
 much faith in the cleansing power of boiling to over- 
 look the sights of the river front where vegetables 
 and feet are washed side by side, while as to the fruit, 
 that had been gathered green, as is so often the case 
 in China, why I could not learn. Some said the Chi- 
 nese preferred it so, others that if it were kept on the 
 trees it would be stolen long before it ripened. But 
 to tell the truth, the goodness of Chinese fruit seems 
 to be all on the outside. I never saw finer-looking 
 peaches than in Szechuan, but they proved worm- 
 riddled and tasteless. Apparently all that the Chinese 
 can teach themselves has been learned, in fruit-grow-
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 207 
 
 ing as well as in other things. Now if they are to ad- 
 vance they must begin to borrow, and much else 
 besides money. I was glad to learn that one of the 
 American missionaries at Ya-chou is in close touch 
 with the Department of Agriculture at Washington 
 on a basis of give and take that ought to be to the 
 advantage of both sides. 
 
 We covered the distance of nearly two hundred 
 miles between Suifu and Chung-king in good time ; 
 the weather was favourable, and the river now ran 
 so high that the troublesome rapids had disappeared. 
 The scenery was charming as ever, but I was weary- 
 ing of inactivity and it was a relief to see the cren- 
 ellated walls of Chung-king come in sight. I paid off 
 my boatmen, who had lived up to their agreement 
 (not written this time) in every particular, and in an 
 hour I had ferried across the river and found myself 
 once more being carried over the steep hills that here 
 form the south shore of the Yangtse, to meet a kind 
 welcome from the friends of friends to their charming 
 summer refuge high above the depressing heat of the 
 Yangtse valley. 
 
 Chung-king, which has been dubbed the Chicago 
 of West China, Hankow claims the name in East 
 China, is one of a trio of cities that cluster around the 
 junction of theChia-tingand the Yangtse, and it is eas- 
 ily the chief, with a population of close on half a million. 
 The approach from upstream is very striking, a grey
 
 208 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 city perched on a huge grey reef and enclosed in a 
 strong, crenellated grey wall. The narrow strip of 
 shore outside the walls is filled with poor, rickety 
 buildings easily removed when the river rises or as 
 easily swept away if not taken down in time. Broad, 
 steep flights of steps lead up from the river to the 
 city gates, and over these stairs all the water used by 
 hundreds of thousands is carried in buckets. 
 
 In 1895 Chung-king was declared open as a treaty 
 port, and since then its commerce has grown in true 
 modern fashion by leaps and bounds, and there seems 
 no limit to its development, for it is in a position to 
 control the up-country trade. The fleets of junks lie 
 closely packed three deep along the shore, and within 
 the walls the multiplying thousands are even more 
 densely crowded, for the room to expand is set by the 
 limits of the great rock on which Chung-king stands, 
 and apparently every square foot of land within or 
 without the city is already occupied by the living or 
 the dead. Nowhere did I see such crowded streets, 
 and nowhere missionaries living in such cramped 
 quarters as in Chung-king, a confinement all the 
 more unendurable because of the long months of 
 damp heat. 
 
 The large foreign community of Chung-king has 
 many elements, missionary, merchant, and officials 
 of the customs, post-office, and consular services. And 
 lying in the river opposite the city are generally Eng-
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 209 
 
 lish, French, or German gunboats. The relations be- 
 tween all these seem more cordial and helpful than in 
 some treaty ports. So, too, Europeans and Chinese 
 are on an unwontedly friendly footing in Chung-king ; 
 perhaps something may be due to the fine standard 
 set in the mercantile community by that pioneer 
 trader, Archibald Little, who boldly established him- 
 self here eight years before the town was made a 
 treaty port. And on the Chinese side there seemed 
 readiness to appreciate what the West has to offer ; 
 in fact the town has a distinctly go-ahead air. It has 
 already held one commercial exhibition on Western 
 lines, and is planning another, and it is now lighted 
 by electricity, boasting the best plant west of Shang- 
 hai, which it sets up against Chengtu's mint and ar- 
 senal. There is, in fact, a real Western flavour about 
 the rivalry of the two Szechuan cities, recalling the 
 relations of Chicago and St. Louis. 
 
 As a purely trading centre Chung-king lacks some 
 of the interest of the capital, but the merchant class, 
 the backbone of China, is well represented here, and 
 is famed for its intelligence and initiative. Through 
 the kindness of Mr. Warburton Davidson, of the 
 Friends' Mission, I was given a chance to meet mem- 
 bers of this class, and also to see something of a very 
 interesting experiment he had recently started. Real- 
 izing the importance of making known to this influ- 
 ential element the best that Christian civilization has
 
 210 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 to offer, but well aware of the difficulty, indeed, the 
 impossibility, of meeting- them through the ordinary 
 channels of missionary effort, Mr. Davidson hit upon 
 the idea of starting a social club where men of stand- 
 ing, Christian and non-Christian, European as well 
 as Chinese, might mingle on an equal footing. The 
 plan proved successful from the start. Largely through 
 the interest of a Chinese gentleman of Chung-king an 
 attractive house has been put up and equipped with 
 newspapers, books, games, and the beginnings of a 
 museum, and here in the reading and recreation rooms 
 some of the best business men of the city meet for 
 social intercourse, discussions, and occasionally a lec- 
 ture on such up-to-date subjects as X-rays, tubercu- 
 losis, and, very recently, the American Constitution. 
 It is now open every day and evening except Sunday, 
 and already it is making itself felt in the life of the 
 city. 
 
 Mr. Davidson kindly planned for me to visit the 
 Friends' Institute, as the club is called, and to meet 
 some of the Chinese committee by which it is man- 
 aged, for very wisely things are left as far as possi- 
 ble in the hands of the natives. For two hours or 
 more I had the pleasure of talking with these gentle- 
 men, and I was much impressed with their keen in- 
 terest in outside matters. All were of a type new to 
 me, quiet, dignified, interested, with the fine manners 
 of the Chinese gentleman, but without the rather
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 211 
 
 lackadaisical superciliousness of some officials, nor 
 was there anything Western about them ; they were 
 not copying Europe, but learning how to be a new, 
 fine sort of Chinese. Among those whom I met were 
 Mr. Yang, president of the Institute, and a prominent 
 business man of Chung-king, and Mr. Cheo, the 
 elderly head of the Chinese Imperial Telegraph, who 
 has now been succeeded by another member whom I 
 also met. When I left they all escorted me most 
 courteously to my chair, the passers-by stopping to 
 gape with surprise. So far as I know the club is a new 
 departure in mission work, and most worthy of sup- 
 port as a rational and hopeful method of presenting 
 the best of Christian civilization to a class often re- 
 pelled by missionary propaganda. 
 
 In Chung-king I parted with the faithful coolie 
 who had come with me all the way from Yunnan-fu. 
 As carrier or as cook's helper he had worked well ; 
 indeed, on more than one occasion he had cooked 
 my dinner when Liu was under the weather, and he 
 had become so dexterous in waiting on the table that 
 he had grown ambitious and was now looking out 
 for a place in a restaurant. I wrote him a " chit," or 
 letter of recommendation, which I hope served his 
 purpose if he could get any one to read it. At least I 
 made it look as imposing as possible. How would the 
 wheels go round in the East without " chits " ? You 
 are called upon to write them for every sort of person
 
 212 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and every kind of service or none. On one occasion 
 the recovery of a stolen necklace brought upon my 
 head demands for a whole sheaf of letters, every one 
 concerned, no matter how remotely, wanted one, 
 hotel proprietor (it was at a hotel that the affair oc- 
 curred), hotel manager, clerk, servants, chief of police, 
 ordinary policemen. Finally in desperation I offered 
 one to the thief for allowing himself to be caught so 
 promptly. But I think the strangest one I was ever 
 called upon to write was for a tiger-tamer in the 
 employ of an Indian rajah. I protested I knew no- 
 thing about such things, but he would not take no, 
 and as he had reduced the big brute that he brought 
 to my bungalow to the point of drinking milk from a 
 china bowl that I. put before him, I agreed to recom- 
 mend him as a trainer of tigers. But for my Yunnan 
 coolie I wrote a good letter most willingly in spite of 
 the fact that he was a confirmed opium-smoker ; in 
 all the long journey that he made with me I could 
 not see that it weakened his wits or his muscles. I 
 was told that such journeyings were not at all uncom- 
 mon, the coolies taking work wherever offered, and 
 going on and on as new jobs turned up. With all its 
 shortcomings the Manchu Government did not make 
 the blunder of imposing artificial restraints upon the 
 movements of the people, and since no passports were 
 required within the empire, men could come and go at 
 their own will. The part of the commercial traveller
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 213 
 
 in creating the American nation has been noted. 
 Who can tell what the Chinese coolie is doing in the 
 same way? 
 
 At Chung-king I had to arrange for the trip down 
 the river. I might take passage on the wonderful new 
 steamer plying with some regularity between the city 
 and Ichang ; but that went too fast for my liking, be- 
 sides giving me no chance to go ashore. Or I might 
 engage a houseboat ; but at this season of the year 
 the charges were high, as it might be weeks before 
 the return trip could be made, and one hundred taels 
 was the best rate offered. So in spite of the fact that 
 " nobody travelled that way," or perhaps because of 
 it, I, being a nobody, decided to try the humble wu- 
 pan again, and through the efforts of one of the 
 Christian helpers in the Friends' Mission I secured a 
 very comfortable boat to take me and my reduced 
 following to Ichang for twenty-five dollars Mexican. 
 The boat was all that could be desired, and the cap- 
 tain, or "lao-pan," proved skilful and obliging, but 
 unfortunately he was not, as is usually the case, the 
 owner of the boat, and still more unfortunately, one 
 of the owners, a rather old man, was serving with the 
 crew. Nothing happened, but I had at times an un- 
 comfortable feeling that nobody was in authority over 
 any one. 
 
 I started down the river at noon on a fine day at 
 the end of June, and a little over forty-eight hours
 
 214 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 brought us to Kwei-fu at the head of the gorges. For 
 the most part it was a country of soft undulating 
 slopes and comfortable farmhouses, with here and 
 there a little hamlet or a bustling town, framed the last 
 part of the way by strange-looking pyramidal hills. 
 On we went, hurried along by the strong current, 
 stopping for an hour's marketing at Foo-chou at the 
 mouth of the Kung-tan Ho, navigable for one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles by boats of strange shape known 
 as the " Crooked Sterns," and again at Wan-hsien, 
 famous for its cypress- wood junks, then on past the 
 City of the Cloudy Sun, attractive with broad streets 
 and lovely temples, past the Mountain of the Em- 
 peror of Heaven, where for a few cash you may have 
 a pass direct to Paradise, past Precious Stone Castle, 
 a curious rock three hundred feet high standing out 
 boldly from the shore and surmounted by a temple 
 which contains gruesome paintings of the horrors of 
 hell, through the Goddess of Mercy Rapid and the 
 Glorious Dragon Rapid, and several smaller ones 
 that I did not even know were rapids, for with the 
 high water these tend to disappear, while wicked- 
 looking bays of swirling water showed the peculiar 
 danger of the summer, the great whirlpools. The 
 nights were very hot, and all our efforts did not avail 
 to get the air which alone could make sleep possible. 
 Before this the mosquitoes had given little trouble, 
 but now they sang outside my net all night long,
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 215 
 
 while the poor, unprotected boatmen, robbed of their 
 hard-earned sleep, kept up an accompaniment of 
 slapping on the other side of the curtain. The river 
 was falling again, leaving long stretches of mudbank 
 over which I had to clamber if I tried to leave the 
 boat for a little change, but I always managed to go 
 on shore for a while when the men were cooking and 
 eating their supper. They took an interminable time 
 over it, and I never could see why they did not burn 
 us all up, for their cooking was done in the tiny hold 
 in an unprotected brazier. In fact, we did catch fire 
 one day, but of course there was plenty of water at 
 hand. 
 
 The third day about noon we tied up for a short 
 time to cook some sort of a meal, and the rain com- 
 ing on, the captain thought it best to wait. To escape 
 the bad air of the boat, where all the mattings were 
 down, I sat under an umbrella on the bank. A huge 
 junk slowly pulling upstream moored close at hand, 
 and I watched with interest the trackers making fast. 
 They were men of all ages and sizes, but mostly 
 young and well grown. Their naked bodies were well 
 developed and muscular, but often cut or scarred with 
 falling on the rocks. Having made all secure they 
 too got under cover on the junk, and fell to eating, 
 naked and wet as they were. It seemed to me that I 
 sat for hours on that mudbank while the rain fell in 
 torrents and the river rose higher and higher, for the
 
 216 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 changes in level are extraordinarily rapid. It was 
 almost dark before we could set off again, and then 
 we got no farther than Kwei-fu, the trackers' Para- 
 dise. Perhaps that was the reason why we could not 
 start the next morning, but I fancy it was the truth 
 that the water was too high to be safe, for there were 
 double rows of junks moored under the walls of 
 Kwei-fu, and I saw no boats starting down. When 
 the water covers the great rock at the mouth of the 
 Windbox Gorge, two miles down the river, the au- 
 thorities forbid all passing through. And anyway 
 there was nothing to do but make the best of it. 
 
 Kwei-fu is a pleasant-looking town set in maize- 
 fields which grow quite up to the walls. A few years 
 ago it was notorious for its hostility to foreigners. No 
 missionaries were admitted, and when Mrs. Bird 
 Bishop came this way in 1897 she did not attempt to 
 go inside the town. Now all is changed ; the China 
 Inland Mission has a station here, and I went about 
 freely. But I did not see much of Kwei-fu, as I pre- 
 ferred to enjoy that Paradise from afar ; so we pulled 
 a little way downstream, tying up near some maize- 
 fields in which I promptly got really lost, so tall and 
 thick was the growth. 
 
 The next morning dawned clear, and the lao-pan 
 declared we could start, as the water was falling, but 
 he professed unwillingness to take me through the 
 dreaded Hei Shi Tan, or "Black Rock Rapid," near
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 217 
 
 the western end of the first gorge ; so I carried two 
 two-carrier chairs for myself and the interpreter, pay- 
 ing one thousand cash for thirty li. At starting, the 
 road made a bend away from the river, passing 
 through a succession of hamlets, the homes of the 
 trackers. Leaving my men at a tea-house I walked 
 on, following a well-made path which led me finally 
 into the White Emperor's Temple, beautifully set on 
 the very edge of an angle of the cliff, affording won- 
 derful views down the gorge. It was clean and light, 
 and the priests who came to greet me in the usual 
 kindly Buddhist fashion had rather nice faces. It was 
 a place to dream away a glorious day. At our feet 
 the rippling water just revealed the dreaded Goose- 
 tail Rock, now almost submerged, but in winter stand- 
 ing like a sentinel forty feet tall at the mouth of the 
 gorge ; and over our heads towered, on both sides the 
 narrow waterway, grey vertical cliffs, fifteen hundred 
 to two thousand feet high. I hated to leave, but as I 
 had plainly lost my way there was nothing to do but 
 go back and seek to overtake the men who were 
 pounding along on the right path, trying to come up 
 with me. 
 
 It is here that the great Szechuan road begins, a 
 pathway galleried into the solid rock for the whole 
 length of the gorge at about one hundred and fifty 
 feet above the winter level of the river. It is a fine 
 piece of road, the gift, I believe, of a rich Kwei-chou
 
 2i8 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 merchant. The surprising thing, of course, is not that 
 it is good the Chinese have built many good roads 
 but that it is new. At present it stops at the 
 Szechuan frontier, but there is talk of extending it 
 across Hupeh. 
 
 The day and a half that I spent in going through 
 the gorges of the Yangtse were the most exhausting 
 part of my whole trip ; from the mere strain of seeing 
 and feeling, one's senses were all the time on the rack. 
 Scenes of overpowering savagery and grandeur that 
 held one spellbound, were relieved by beautiful bits of 
 cultivation, little hamlets of brown houses and red 
 temples half concealed in groves of golden bamboo 
 and the glossy green of orange trees ; moments when 
 the boatmen lounged on the deck or hung exhausted 
 over their oars were followed by brief, fierce struggles 
 against the dreadful force of a whirlpool that threat- 
 ened to engulf us. 
 
 But, after all, that which most often comes back to 
 me as I recall those days is the feeling of the ruthless 
 human will grappling with nature and winning the 
 mastery. Who can call China aged and in decay face 
 to face with her success in conquering a passage up 
 these gorges ? Who can question the vitality of the 
 Chinese, that has watched the trackers at work pull- 
 ing a huge junk against a current like the rapids of 
 Niagara, clambering over wet, rough boulders, creep- 
 ing like cats along a thread of a trail overhanging the
 
 DOWN THE YANGTSE 219 
 
 gulf, clinging to the face of rocks that do not seem to 
 offer a foothold to a mountain goat, and all the time 
 straining with every muscle at a thousand-foot rope. 
 An inhuman task where men take great risks for a 
 pittance, where death by drowning or by being dashed 
 to pieces on the rocks confronts them at every turn, 
 and where, at best, strains and exposure bring an 
 early end. In my dreams I see them, the long lines 
 of naked men, their strong bodies shining with wet 
 and bleeding from many a cut, keeping time in a 
 wild chant as they tug at the taut line ; a rope breaks 
 and the toil of hours is lost ; one misstep and a life 
 has ended. 
 
 But this is the sole highway to Szechuan ; all the 
 trade of China's largest province, the one best en- 
 dowed by nature, must pass up and down here. Any 
 people less prodigal of their strength, less determined 
 and less resourceful than the Chinese, would have 
 given up the struggle before it was begun, and 
 Szechuan would have slumbered undeveloped and 
 forgotten, instead of being as it is now the richest 
 and most advanced part of the empire. 
 
 And the next step is assured ; before many years 
 have passed, a railway will connect the western capi- 
 tal with Wan-hsien and Hankow, the deserted gorges 
 will no longer reecho the cries of the trackers, and 
 the upward trip that now takes six weeks will be a 
 matter of two or three days. It will be a different
 
 220 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Szechuan then, with its resources exploited, with 
 mines and factories, good roads and fine hotels, a 
 power in the world's market, the goal of the tourist, 
 and I am glad I saw Szechuan before the railway 
 came.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 FROM THE GREAT RIVER TO THE GREAT WALL 
 
 A? Ichang, a thousand miles from Shanghai, I 
 met the West, modern comforts, bad manners, 
 and all. Situated at the eastern end of the gorges, 
 this town of thirty thousand Chinese inhabitants and 
 a handful of Europeans is just where all the mer- 
 chandise going upstream must be shifted from the 
 light-draft steamers of the lower Yangtseto the native 
 junks of forty to a hundred tons which are still the 
 only freight boats that venture regularly through the 
 rapids and whirlpools of the upper waters of the Great 
 River. So the water front of Ichang is a busy scene 
 at all times, and in the winter season the boats are 
 packed together sardine fashion. When the railway 
 is put through, all the river traffic will cease, but 
 Ichang proposes to control the new route as it has 
 the old, and already an imposing station has been 
 completed, even though only a few miles of iron rail 
 have been laid down. 
 
 I shifted my belongings directly from the wu-pan 
 to the Kweilu, a Butterfield & Swire boat leaving 
 the same evening. It was very comfortable, although 
 crowded, as everything seems to be in China. Ichang 
 stands at the extreme eastern edge of the tangle of
 
 222 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 mountains that stretch across Szechuan to the Tibetan 
 plateau, and just below this point the scenery changes, 
 the hills dwindle, and the valley opens into the wide 
 flat plains of the lower Yangtse. It is a merciful ar- 
 rangement, allowing the eyes and brain a chance to 
 recover their tone after the strain of trying to take in 
 the wonders of the gorges, and I was glad for the 
 open, vacant land, thankful that there was nothing 
 to look at. 
 
 The second morning in the early dawn we moored 
 off Hankow, where I planned to stay a day or two 
 before turning northward. Hankow, Hanyang, Wu- 
 chang, these three cities lie at the junction of the Han 
 and the Yangtse, having, all told, a population of 
 some two millions. Located on the Yangtse, at the 
 mouth of the Han, one of the great waterways of 
 China, halfway between Shanghai and Ichang, and a 
 little more than halfway from Peking to Canton, and 
 at present the terminus of the Peking railway, which 
 in good time will be extended to Canton, the future 
 of these cities is assured. Each of the three has some 
 special claim to preeminence, but the greatest of them 
 is Hankow. Hanyang's chimneys are preparing to 
 rival those of Bombay, and it boasts the largest iron- 
 works in China. Wuchang is the provincial capital, 
 and the seat of the viceroy or governor, as it hap- 
 pens, and its mint and arsenal are the most import- 
 ant in the south, while Hankow is the trading centre,
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 223 
 
 and the headquarters of the great banking and ship- 
 ping concerns. 
 
 When I was there in early July of last year I no- 
 ticed only the look of substantial prosperity about 
 the place, and the comfortable bustle and stir in the 
 streets. Chinese and Europeans alike seemed intent 
 on making money, pound-wise or cash-wise. The one 
 matter of concern was the high water in the river, 
 here nearly a mile wide. Already it was almost up to 
 the top of the " bund " ; a few inches more and it would 
 flood the lowland, destroying life and property, and 
 stopping all business. There were no outward signs 
 of commotion underneath, but in about three months 
 the viceroy's yamen was in flames, shops and offices 
 were looted, and the mint and arsenal in the hands 
 of the Revolutionary party. One stroke had put it in 
 possession of a large amount of treasure, military 
 stores, and a commanding position. 
 
 I planned to stay in Hankow just long enough to 
 pack a box for England, and efface a few of the scars 
 of inland travel before confronting whatever society 
 might be found in Peking in midsummer, but rather 
 to my dismay I found the weekly express train left 
 the day after my arrival. It was out of the question 
 to take that, and apparently I would have to wait 
 over a week unless I dared try the ordinary train that 
 ran daily, stopping two nights on the road. But there 
 seemed many lions in the way. It would be quite im-
 
 224 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 possible to go by this train unless I could take all my 
 things into the carriage with me ; nothing was safe in 
 the luggage van. It would be a long and tedious 
 journey, and I could get nothing to eat on the way, 
 and of course it would be impossible to put up at 
 Chinese inns at night. But face the Eastern lions and 
 they generally turn to kittens. Travelling by way 
 trains had no terrors for me, it would give me a 
 chance to see the country, and it was for that I had 
 come to China, and I knew I could manage about 
 my things ; but the Chinese inn was something of a 
 difficulty, as I was leaving interpreter and cook in 
 Hankow. I jumped into a rickshaw and by good luck 
 found the genial superintendent, M. Didier, at the 
 station. Mais oui, I might stop in the train at night ; 
 mats oui) the little dog could be with me ; mats oui, I 
 could certainly manage a trunk in my compartment. 
 And he did even better than his word, wiring ahead 
 to the nights' stopping-places, Chu-ma-tien and 
 Chang-te-ho, and when the train pulled in at each 
 place, I was charmingly welcomed by the division 
 superintendent with an invitation from his wife to 
 put up with them ; and so instead of two nights in the 
 stuffy sleeping-compartment of the express train, I 
 had two enjoyable evenings in French homes, and 
 long nights in a real bed. It was indeed a bit of France 
 that these delightful Frenchwomen had created in 
 the plain of Central China ; books and journals, dogs
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 225 
 
 and wines from home, and French dishes skilfully 
 prepared by Chinese hands. But the houses where 
 they lived opened out of the strongly walled station 
 enclosure ; it would not take long to put it in condi- 
 tion to stand a siege. No one in China forgets the 
 days of 1900. 
 
 The train was of the comfortable corridor sort. 
 Most of the time I was the only European, and the 
 only person in the first class, but the second and 
 especially the third were crowded full, although the 
 passengers did not seem about to flow out of the win- 
 dows, feet foremost, as so often on an Indian railway. 
 The Chinese is beset by many fears, superstitious 
 fears or real mundane ones, but he has the wit to 
 know a good thing when he sees it, and it does not 
 take him long to overcome any pet fear that stands 
 in the way of possessing it. In 1870 the first Chinese 
 railway was built by the great shipowners of the 
 East, Jardine, Mattheson & Co. It was only twelve 
 miles long, connecting Shanghai with Woosung. At 
 first there was no trouble, then certain native inter- 
 ests, fearing the competition, stirred up the people 
 by the usual methods, finally clinching the opposi- 
 tion by a suicide (hired) under a train ; so in the end 
 the Government bought out the English firm and 
 dismantled the railway. That was forty years ago, 
 and to-day all that stands in the way of gridironing 
 China with iron highways is the lack of home capital
 
 226 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and the perfectly reasonable fear of foreign loans. 
 The Chinese want railways, and they want to build 
 them themselves, but they have not got the money, 
 and for the moment they prefer to go without rather 
 than put themselves in the power of European capi- 
 talists and European governments. And who can 
 blame them ? 
 
 The Six Power Railway Loan of 1908 proved the 
 undoing of the Manchus, and the inevitable sequence, 
 the appointing of European and American engineers, 
 to the American was assigned the important sec- 
 tion between Ichang and Chengtu, was bringing 
 matters to a head before I left China. The Changsha 
 outbreak in the early summer was directed against 
 the Government's railway policy, represented for the 
 moment in the newly appointed Director of Com- 
 munications, the Manchu Tuan Fang, who visited the 
 United States in 1906 as a member of the Imperial 
 Commission. Many will remember the courteous old 
 man, perhaps the most progressive of all the Manchu 
 leaders. I had hoped to meet him in China, but on 
 inquiring his whereabouts when in Shanghai I was 
 told that he had been degraded from his post as 
 Viceroy of Nanking and was living in retirement. A 
 few weeks later the papers were full of his new ap- 
 pointment, extolling his patriotism in accepting an 
 office inferior to the one from which he had been re- 
 moved. But delays followed, and when the rioting
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 227 
 
 occurred in Changsha he had not yet arrived at head- 
 quarters in Hankow. It was said openly that he was 
 afraid. On my way north the train drew up one even- 
 ing on a siding, and when I asked the reason I was 
 told a special train was going south bearing His 
 Excellency Tuan Fang to his post. He had just come 
 from a conference at Chang-te-ho with Yuan Shih 
 Kai, who was living there in retirement nursing his 
 *' gouty leg." If only one could have heard that last 
 talk between the two great supporters of a falling 
 dynasty. 
 
 And one went on his way south to take up the im- 
 possible task of stemming the tide of revolution, and 
 before four months were past he was dead, struck 
 down and beheaded by his own soldiers in a little 
 Szechuan town, while the other, biding his time, 
 stands to-day at the head of the new Republic of 
 the East. 
 
 The Lu-Han railway, as the Peking-Hankow line 
 is called, crosses three provinces, Hupeh, Honan, and 
 Chihli. Save for low hills on the Hupeh frontier, 
 it runs the whole way through a flat, featureless 
 country, cultivated by hand, almost every square 
 foot of it. Seven hundred miles of rice- and millet- 
 fields and vegetable gardens unbroken by wall or 
 hedge; nothing to cast a shadow on the dead 
 level except an occasional walled town or temple 
 grove ! And the horrible land was all alive with
 
 228 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 swarming, toiling, ant-hill humanity. It was a night- 
 mare. 
 
 On the second day we reached the Hoang Ho, 
 China's sorrow and the engineer's despair. The 
 much-discussed bridge is two miles long, crossing 
 the river on one hundred and seven spans. As the 
 train moved at snail's pace there was plenty of time 
 to take in the desolate scene, stretches of mudflats 
 alternating with broad channels of swirling, turbid 
 water ; and, unlike the Yangtse, gay with all sorts of 
 craft, the strong current of the Yellow River rolled 
 along undisturbed by sweep or screw. 
 
 Once across the Hoang Ho and you enter the loess 
 country, dear to the tiller of the soil, but the bane of 
 the traveller, for the dust is often intolerable. But 
 there was little change in scenery until toward noon 
 of the following day, when the faint, broken outlines 
 of hills appeared on the northern horizon. As we 
 were delayed by a little accident it was getting dark 
 when we rumbled along below the great wall of 
 Peking into the noisy station alive with the clamour 
 of rickshaw boys and hotel touts. In fifteen minutes 
 I was in my comfortable quarters at the H6tel des 
 Wagons Lits, keen for the excitement of the first 
 view of one of the world's great historic capitals. 
 
 Peking is set in the middle of the large plain that 
 stretches one hundred miles from the Gulf of Pechihli 
 to the Pass of Nankow. On the north it is flanked by
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 229 
 
 low hills, thus happily excluding all evil influences, 
 but it is open to the good, that always come from the 
 south. So from a Chinese point of view its location 
 is entirely satisfactory, but a European might think 
 it was dangerously near the frontier for the capital 
 city of a great state. Years ago Gordon's advice to 
 the Tsungli Yamen was, " Move your Queen Bee to 
 Nanking." And just now the same thing is being 
 said, only more peremptorily, by some of the Chinese 
 themselves. But for the moment lack of money and 
 fear of Southern influences have carried the day 
 against any military advantage, and the capital re- 
 mains where it is. Perhaps the outsider may be per- 
 mitted to say she is glad, for Nanking could never 
 hope to rival the Northern city in charm and interest. 
 
 The most wonderful thing in Peking is the wall. 
 That is what first holds your attention, and you never 
 for a moment forget it. There it stands, aloof and re- 
 mote, dominating the city it was set to defend, but 
 not a part of it. Huge, massive, simple, it has nothing 
 in common with the gaudy, over-ornamented, un- 
 restful buildings of the Chinese, and as you enter its 
 shadow you seem to have passed into a different 
 world. 
 
 Often before breakfast I climbed to the top of the 
 wall beyond the Water Gate for a run with Jack be- 
 fore the heat of the day set in. It was a glorious 
 place for a morning walk. The wall is some forty
 
 230 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 feet high, and along the top runs a broad path en- 
 closed by crenellated parapets. From here your vision 
 ranges north and south and east and west ; no smoke, 
 no tall chimneys, no towering, hideous buildings to 
 break and spoil the view. 
 
 North you look over the Tartar City, which is really 
 three cities, all walled, and one within the other like 
 the boxes of a puzzle, the Tartar City enclosing the 
 Imperial City, and that in turn the Forbidden City. 
 If you stand under the many-storied tower that sur- 
 mounts the Chien-Men, you look straight along the 
 road that leads through the vermilion walls, right 
 into the Purple City, the heart of Peking. In Marco 
 Polo's time the middle door of the great portal was 
 never opened save to admit the emperor, and that 
 was still true a few months ago, but last winter a day 
 came when the bars rolled back, and there entered 
 no emperor, no ruler, but the representative of the 
 People's Assembly, and then a placard was posted 
 announcing that hereafter the door was open to every 
 one, for all China belonged to the people. For a 
 matter-of-fact man the Chinese has a very dramatic 
 way of doing things. 
 
 Turning southwards from the top of the wall you 
 look beyond the Chinese City, which is nothing but 
 a walled suburb, to the gleaming white walls of the 
 Temple of Heaven, half buried in the trees. There 
 each year the emperor comes to offer sacrifices to his
 
 TARTAR WALL, PEKING 
 
 Underwood & Underwood, 
 
 Underwood & Underwood 
 CARAVAN OUTSIDE THE TARTAR WALL
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 231 
 
 ancestors, the crowning expression of China's truest 
 religion, ancestor worship. In a few months only, 
 Prince Ch'un, the Regent, whom you have just met 
 driving in state through the Imperial City, standing 
 among his ministers, and acting for the baby em- 
 peror, will take the oath, not to the people of China, 
 nor to any representative assembly, but to the im- 
 perial ancestors to accept and obey the new consti- 
 tutional principles. " I, your descendant, P'u Yi," he 
 will say, " have endeavoured to consummate the 
 constitutional programme, but my policy and my 
 choice of officials have not been wise. Hence the re- 
 cent troubles. Fearing the fall of the sacred dynasty 
 I accept the advice of the National Assembly, and I 
 vow to uphold the nineteen constitutional articles, 
 and to organize a Parliament. ... I and my de- 
 scendants will adhere to it forever. Your Heavenly 
 Spirits will see and understand." 
 
 There is unfailing charm and interest in the view 
 over Peking from the top of the wall. Chinese cities 
 are generally attractive, looked down upon from 
 above, because of the many trees, but here the wealth 
 of foliage and blaze of colour are almost bewilder- 
 ing ; the graceful outlines of pagoda and temple, the 
 saucy tilt of the roofs, yellow and green, imperial and 
 princely, rising above stretches of soft brown walls, 
 the homes of the people, everything framed in masses 
 of living green ; and stretching around it all, like a
 
 232 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 huge protecting arm, the great grey wall. You sigh 
 with satisfaction ; nowhere is there a jarring note ; 
 and then you turn your eyes down to the grounds 
 and buildings of the American Legation at your feet, 
 clean, comfortable, uncompromising, and alien. Near 
 you paces to and fro a soldier, gun on shoulder, his 
 trim figure set off by his well-fitting khaki clothes, 
 unmistakably American, unmistakably foreign, guard- 
 ing this strip of Peking's great wall, where neither 
 Manchu nor Chinese may set foot. And then your 
 gaze travels along the wall, to where, dimly outlined 
 against the horizon, you discern the empty frames 
 of the wonderful astronomical instruments that were 
 once the glory of Peking, now adorning a Berlin 
 museum, set up for the German holiday-makers to 
 gape at. After all, there are discordant notes in 
 Peking. 
 
 Down in the streets there is plenty of life and vari- 
 ety. Mongol and Manchu and Chinese jostle each 
 other in the dust or mud of the broad highways. The 
 swift rickshaws thread their way through the throng 
 with amazing dexterity. Here the escort of a great 
 official clatters by, with jingling swords and nutter 
 of tassels, there a long train of camels fresh from the 
 desert blocks the road. The trim European victoria, 
 in which sits the fair wife of a Western diplomat, 
 fresh as a flower in her summer finery, halts side by 
 side with the heavy Peking cart, its curved matting
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 233 
 
 top framing the gay dress and gayer faces of some 
 Manchu women. And the kaleidoscopic scene moves 
 against a background of shops and houses gay with 
 paint and gilding. The life, the colour, the noise are 
 bewildering ; your head begins to swim. And then 
 you look away from it all to the great wall. There it 
 stands, massive, aloof, untouched by the petty life at 
 its foot. And you think of all it has looked upon ; 
 what tales of men and their doings it could tell. And 
 you ask the first European you meet, or the last, 
 it is always the same, about the place and its his- 
 tory, and he says, " Oh, yes, Peking is full of histori- 
 cal memorials which you must not fail to see " ; but 
 they always turn out to be the spots made famous in 
 the siege of the legations. To the average European, 
 Peking's history begins in 1900 ; you cannot get away 
 from that time, and after a while you tire of it, and 
 you tire, too, of all the bustle and blaze of colour. 
 And you climb again to the top of the wall that seems 
 to belong to another world, and you look off toward 
 the great break in the hills, to Nankow, the Gate of 
 the South. On the other side the road leads straight 
 away to the Mongolian uplands where the winds 
 blow, and to the wide, empty spaces of the desert. 
 
 So you turn your back upon Peking, and the rail- 
 way takes you to Kalgan on the edge of the great 
 plateau. It is only one hundred and twenty-five miles 
 away, but you spend nearly a whole day in the train,
 
 234 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 for you are climbing all the way. And time does not 
 matter, for it is interesting to see what the Chinese 
 can do in railway building and railway managing, all 
 by themselves. The Kalgan-Peking railway was the 
 first thing of the kind constructed by the Chinese, 
 and the engineer in chief, Chang-Tien- You, did the 
 work so well (he was educated in America, one of the 
 group that came in the early seventies) that he was 
 later put in charge of the railway that was to be built 
 from Canton northwards. It seems to be an honest 
 piece of work ; at any rate, the stations had a sub- 
 stantial look. 
 
 At the grand mountain gateway of Nankow you 
 pass under the Great Wall, which crosses the road 
 at right angles, and as you slowly steam across the 
 plateau on the outer side, you see it reappearing from 
 time to time like a huge snake winding along the 
 ridges. Old wall, new railway ; which will serve China 
 best ? One sought to keep the world out, the other 
 should help to create a Chinese nation that will not 
 need to fear the world. 
 
 My first impression of Kalgan was of a modern 
 European station, and many lines of rails ; my last 
 and most enduring, the kindness of the Western 
 dweller in the East to the stray Westerner of whose 
 doings he probably disapproves. Between these two 
 impressions I had only time to gain a passing glimpse 
 of the town itself. It is a busy, dirty place, enclosed
 
 GREAT RIVER TO GREAT WALL 235 
 
 in high walls, and cut in two by the rapid Ta Ho. A 
 huddle of palaces, temples, banks lies concealed be- 
 hind the mud walls that hem in the narrow lanes, for 
 Kalgan has been for many years an important trad- 
 ing centre, and through here passes the traffic across 
 the Gobi Desert. In the dirty, open square crowded 
 with carts are two or three incongruous Western 
 buildings, for the foreigner and his ways have found 
 the town out. Of the small European community, 
 missionaries of different nationalities and Russians of 
 various callings form the largest groups. The ener- 
 getic British American Tobacco Company also has 
 its representatives here, who were my most courte- 
 ous hosts during my two days' stay. 
 
 Kalgan stands hard-by the Great Wall ; here China 
 and Mongolia meet, and the two races mingle in its 
 streets. Nothing now keeps them in or out, but the 
 barrier of a great gulf is there. Behind you lie the 
 depressing heat and the crowded places of the low- 
 lands. Before you is the untainted air, the emptiness 
 of Mongolia. You have turned your back on the 
 walled-in Chinese world, walled houses, walled towns, 
 walled empire ; you look out on the great spaces, the 
 freedom of the desert.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 
 
 MY stay in Peking was not all pleasure and 
 sight-seeing, for it was necessary to decide 
 there upon the next steps. Within a few weeks I 
 would have to be on the Siberian railway homeward 
 bound. Should I spend the time left me in seeing 
 Shantung, the Sacred Province, with all it had of in- 
 terest to offer, or should I make a hurried run through 
 the debatable land of Manchuria ? One or the other 
 seemed the natural thing to do, but I had an uneasy 
 feeling that either would mean conventional travel, 
 so far as that is possible in China, railways, and 
 maybe hotels. Then Shantung is now a much-visited 
 country, while Manchuria, dominated by Russia and 
 Japan, was hardly likely to offer " an open door " to 
 anything more than the most cut-and-dried guide- 
 book travel. 
 
 But Mongolia seemed to afford a way out of my 
 doubts. Post-roads and trade-routes crossed the coun- 
 try from the Great Wall, sooner or later striking the 
 Siberian railway near Lake Baikal. That would set 
 me forward some five days on the overland journey 
 to Moscow, cutting off just so much of railway travel, 
 and as far as I could learn there were no hotels, not
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 237 
 
 even Chinese inns, in Mongolia, so I would not need 
 to fear being too comfortable. But above all, there 
 was the charm in the very word Mongolia. Out of 
 that great, little known plateau, almost as large as 
 all of China proper, had come in days past horde 
 upon horde of savage warriors, the scourge of God, 
 the terror of the West, carrying north and south, from 
 Peking to Budapest, from the Volga to the Hugli, 
 their victorious banners. What was the land that 
 bred such a race? What of the Mongols nowadays? 
 Even a few weeks would tell me something. 
 
 Having made up my mind to go, I set about learn- 
 ing the how and the where, with the usual results ; 
 much advice asked and unasked of a very contra- 
 dictory sort. The American Legation with fine cour- 
 tesy offered no counsel, but gave every possible help, 
 securing for me the proper vises for my passports, 
 even speeding the wheels of the slow-moving Wai- 
 wu-pu so that I might not be delayed. The matter 
 of getting a servant proved rather difficult. One who 
 was proposed declined to go with a lady, for he 
 " would have to be braver than she " ; others were 
 daunted by the sound of Mongolia ; but finally, 
 through the kind help of Captain Reeves, the American 
 military attache, I got hold of my invaluable Wang, 
 interpreter, cook, and general factotum in one, and 
 faithfullest of Chinese. Dr. Morrison, the famous 
 Times correspondent, gave me much-needed encour-
 
 238 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 agement at just the right moment. He had long 
 hoped to do it himself, he said, and of course I could 
 do it ; and speaking of his own recent extended trip 
 the length of Mongolia and Chinese Turkestan, he 
 flung out a remark which was very comforting to 
 my soul : Did I not hate to have people tell me that 
 I could not do a thing, that it was too difficult or too 
 dangerous ? If they would only stop with giving you 
 the facts as they knew them, and keep their opinions 
 to themselves. Well, I thought, if people dare to tell 
 Dr. Morrison what he can and cannot do, I must not 
 mind if I am treated in the same way. 
 
 But I needed to take that comfort to my heart more 
 than once in those days. A request for some bit of in- 
 formation so often met with no facts, but simply the 
 stern remark that it was not a thing for a woman to 
 do. And when I did get precise statements they could 
 not all be facts, they were so very contradictory. 
 I could go from Kalgan to Urga in eighteen days ; 
 I must allow twenty-four or thirty; it usually took 
 thirty days to the railway ; I must not expect to do 
 it under forty-five. I must buy ponies to cross from 
 Kalgan ; camels were the only thing to use ; no cam- 
 els could be had in summer. Beyond Urga I must 
 hire a droshky ; the only way to travel was by steamer ; 
 I could never stand a cart ; I could never sit so many 
 hours in the saddle. There would be no water ; 
 I could not drink it if there were. The weather would
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 239 
 
 be intolerably hot ; I must expect snowstorms and 
 sandstorms ; there would be heavy rains making go- 
 ing impossible. My transport would give out ; my 
 men would desert me ; brigands would waylay and 
 rob my caravan. 
 
 One gentleman to whom I wrote began his reply 
 by saying that he answered my inquiries "with much 
 pleasure " ; and then continued, " Frankly, I do not 
 think the trip from Kalgan to Urga should be taken 
 by a lady alone at any time." Then followed ten 
 good reasons why I should not go, and first and fore- 
 most that I should have to leave behind me all inns, 
 and would have to camp out. 
 
 That settled it. There was nothing I should be so 
 glad to leave behind as inns, and for months I had 
 been longing to sleep in a tent. So I fell to making 
 my preparations with good heart. But the enemy had 
 not reached the end of his resources (the enemy was 
 usually a well-bred, intelligent European or American 
 with charming manners and the kindest intentions.) 
 An English officer just returned from Mongolia as- 
 sured me I could never get my dog across, the sav- 
 age Mongol brutes would tear him in pieces ; but I 
 knew my dog and he did not, so I put that aside. 
 The last shot was the hardest to meet : " It will not 
 be worth while." Almost I gave in, but I had reached 
 the pig-headed stage, and I could not, though I 
 wanted to.
 
 240 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 And now the crossing of Mongolia is a thing of 
 the past, and I am not prepared to deny anything 
 that any one asserted about the journey, only some- 
 how I managed to slip through between all the dan- 
 gers and difficulties. I did the trip from wall to rail- 
 way, not counting the stops I made for my own 
 pleasure, in twenty-eight days ; the weather was gen- 
 erally a joy, and I bade my Mongols good-bye in Urga 
 with real regret. I had no troubles, I met with no acci- 
 dents, and it was worth while for once. 
 
 It is surprising how well one gets on with make- 
 shifts. As Peking is not a treaty port there are few 
 European shops, and it would seem as unsatisfactory 
 a place for making up a camping-outfit as Hong 
 Kong was satisfactory, but with the help of kind 
 friends I managed to get together something that 
 would pass muster. There were the usual stores, but 
 with much more in the way of tinned meat and smoked 
 fish than I took in West China, for there would be no 
 handy fowls along our road across Mongolia, only 
 now and then a sheep ; and, as always, I laid in a fair 
 supply of jam. I understand now why England sent 
 tons of jam to the army in South Africa ; the fruiti- 
 ness of it is most refreshing when fresh fruit and 
 vegetables are short. But of all my supplies, nothing 
 proved so comforting as two bottles of lime juice and 
 a tin of so-called grape nuts. The latter mixed with 
 milk helped out the early starts when the fuel was so
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 241 
 
 damp that a fire was out of the question, while the 
 lime juice made drinkable the roiliest and warmest 
 water. The only time when I felt like losing my tem- 
 per with good Wang was when he smashed the last 
 bottle. I had to gallop off to keep from saying things. 
 By good luck I succeeded in hiring an old American 
 army saddle, and it proved just what I wanted. There 
 is nothing like that sort of saddle for long tours on 
 horseback, easy for rider and beast. 
 
 The question of money required careful planning ; 
 it always does in out-of-the-way travel ; but finally, 
 through the kindness of the officials of the Russo- 
 Asiatic Bank, everything was arranged. I would use 
 little money in crossing the desert, and of course the 
 less I carried the better, but a good sum must be 
 forthcoming when I reached Urga and the railway, 
 so the bank furnished me with drafts on the native 
 banks and their own branches, and I had no difficulty, 
 while from Peking I carried dollars and taels to meet 
 expenses at the start. I felt like Pilgrim freed from 
 his burden, to be quit of carrying a lot of small change, 
 for a dollar's worth of cash is almost twenty pounds 
 in weight. 
 
 Fortunately my arrangements were so complete 
 when I arrived in Kalgan that during my two days' 
 wait for letters I had little to do, for my various act- 
 ivities in Peking, combined with the damp heat, had 
 rather done me up, and I was glad to take my ease
 
 242 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 while my kind young host of the British American 
 Tobacco Company turned the place upside down in 
 his efforts to provide for the comfort of my journey. 
 My saddle was overhauled, a charming saddle-cloth 
 of Mongolian work was supplied, a great package of 
 cigarettes put up to cheer my men on the road, and 
 for me a box of soda water. 
 
 One very important thing had been omitted from 
 my stores. I had neglected to bring onions and po- 
 tatoes from Peking, most desirable supplies in the 
 country for which I was starting, a land where no- 
 thing is grown ; and neither potatoes nor onions were 
 to be had in Kalgan. Even my host could not help ; 
 he was out of them himself. But when I bewailed the 
 omission to resourceful Wang he looked wise and 
 said quietly, "Madam wants potatoes and onions; 
 she shall have potatoes and onions" ; and I had, a 
 good bag of each, and such fine ones that a missionary 
 lady, seeing my supplies, asked if she might inquire 
 of my "boy" where he had got them ; never had she 
 seen the like in Kalgan. I hope she found out ; I did 
 not Most likely it was one of those back-stair ar- 
 rangements common in the East, and I hope no 
 Chinese official or Russian merchant had to go short 
 because of it, but I am sure my need was greater 
 than his. They tell a delightful story in Peking of an 
 occasion when a group of young men attached to a 
 certain legation, as student interpreters, wishing to
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 243 
 
 give a dinner party found themselves short of silver, 
 but the servants rose to the situation, and when the 
 night came the dinner table was resplendent with 
 massive silver decorated with the armorial bearings 
 of another legation. 
 
 Just before I left Kalgan my larder was enriched 
 from another and unexpected source. Thanks to the 
 friendly introduction of an American gentleman in 
 Peking, His Excellency, Hou Wei Th, the Senior 
 Vice-President of the Wai-wu-pu, most courteously 
 sent instructions to Chinese officials along my route, 
 especially at Kalgan and Urga, to give me every as- 
 sistance. And soon after my arrival in Kalgan three 
 officials of the Bureau of Foreign Affairs made me a 
 formal call, and the next day they came again, followed 
 by a coolie bearing a basket of stores which proved 
 to be of great value before my journey was over. 
 One feels rather shabby at accepting courtesies for 
 which one can make no return. I did my best by 
 writing appreciative letters to all concerned, begin- 
 ning with His Excellency, the Senior Vice-President. 
 I hope he got the letter, but the next thing I heard of 
 His Excellency was his sudden appearance over the 
 wall of the American Mission Compound at Peking, 
 fleeing before the mutinous soldiers. 
 
 On the morning of July 26, I was rumbling over 
 the broken pavements of Kalgan streets in a Peking 
 cart guided by the trusty Mongol of a friend, and
 
 244 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 escorted by soldiers sent by the Foreign Office. My 
 kit was packed in around me, or I should certainly 
 have whacked my brains out against the sides of the 
 cover. As it was, my hair came down, my hat rolled 
 from side to side, and it was a miracle that anything 
 stayed in the cart. And I did not long, for as soon as 
 we were outside the walls and making our way along 
 the dry bed of the Sha Shin Ho, I jumped out, and 
 for most of that day I either walked or rode the Mon- 
 gol's pony. A Peking cart may have other and better 
 uses, but as an instrument of torture it is unrivalled. 
 Just as the thing was in Marco Polo's time, so it is 
 to-day. You crawl in on hands and knees, and then 
 painfully screw yourself round, and so sit cross-legged, 
 or with feet outstretched if there is room, your head 
 only escaping the top as you crane your neck to catch 
 the view or to get a bit of fresh air. The driver sit- 
 ting on the shafts has much the best of it, and more 
 than once I joined him, very unsuitable, of course. 
 The main trails that cross Mongolia from Kalgan to 
 Urga are two. One, the longer and better known, 
 tends a little to the west, and is called by various 
 names, the " Mandarin Road " or " Relay " or " Cart 
 Road." Along its course are markets and Mongol 
 settlements, and there are post or relay stations at 
 regular intervals. Hence it is preferred by the Chi- 
 nese caravan men as well as by the great, or those 
 in a hurry, who use relays. The other, known as the
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 245 
 
 " Camel Road," turns northward from Kalgan and 
 after a hundred miles takes a northwestward course 
 to Urga. There are no Mongol settlements after you 
 have passed the fringe of villages bordering the Great 
 Wall, and wells are few and far between, but it is one 
 hundred miles shorter than the more western route, 
 and by so much the better for those who go through 
 with the same animals. Much of the way is marked 
 by the telegraph wire that now stretches its many 
 miles across the desert, but it would be rather unwise 
 to trust entirely to this guidance, for at times it leads 
 where only winged things can follow, and above all 
 it never swerves to point out the wells along the 
 way, and missing one you might not reach another 
 for twenty-four hours, or perhaps never. As I was 
 neither hurried nor privileged, I chose this road. 
 
 Over one or the other of these trails pass thousands 
 of carts and camel trains each year, carrying north 
 or south tea and cloth and notions and hides and furs, 
 to the value of many millions of taels. But most of 
 Mongolia's exports go on their own feet, ponies or 
 cattle or sheep. 
 
 Under the treaties of 1858 and 1860 a post-route 
 between the Russian frontier and Kalgan was estab- 
 lished, and in spite of the competing railway through 
 Manchuria, a horse-post still crosses the desert three 
 times a month each way. The Mongols who are em- 
 ployed for the work go through from city to city in
 
 246 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 seven days, galloping all the way, with frequent 
 changes of horses and, less frequent, of men. And 
 once a month a parcels-post makes its slow way 
 across, guarded by Cossacks. 
 
 Just why the Russians persist in this costly and 
 slower method of forwarding mails when the railway 
 would do it in about half the time, I cannot under- 
 stand. One reason given me was that they might not 
 care to trust their mails to the Japanese, who control 
 the southern section of the Manchurian railway. And 
 in case of trouble between the two powers the Rus- 
 sians might find it convenient to have a connection 
 of their own with China. It seemed to me more like 
 a part of Russia's plan of " peaceful penetration," of 
 extending her influence over Mongolia even to the 
 Great Wall. Kalgan seems already an outpost of 
 Russia, with its groups of Russian merchants, its 
 Russian church, bank, post-office, and consulate, one 
 as much as the other representative of the White 
 Tsar. 
 
 Toward the end of the first day from Kalgan we 
 passed under the towers which are all that is left here 
 of the Great Wall, save the pile of stones which marks 
 the line where it stood. Built of mud faced with stone, 
 it has crumbled away, leaving the solid masonry 
 towers standing like giant sentinels to guard the road. 
 
 Here I stood face to face with another world. 
 China lay behind me and below, for we had risen
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 247 
 
 some fifteen hundred feet since leaving Kalgan. Be- 
 fore me stretched the great Mongolian plateau. The 
 wind that cooled my face had blown over thousands 
 of miles of prairie and desert. The long lines of 
 stately, shambling camels, the great droves of sheep 
 herded by wild-looking men on sturdy little ponies 
 told of an open country. Each mile led deeper and 
 deeper into the rolling grassland and the barren 
 waste of Gobi, and between me and the next town 
 lay nearly seven hundred miles of treeless plain and 
 barren sand. 
 
 For four days we were crossing the grassland, 
 wide stretches of gently undulating country covered 
 with thick rich grass ; wave upon wave it rolled like 
 a great ocean up to the ramparts of China. As far as 
 the eye could reach there was nothing but living 
 green untouched by plough or spade, unbroken save 
 where little lines of settlement stretched like clutch- 
 ing fingers into the sea of grass, the menacing ad- 
 vance of the Chinese, the tillers of the soil. 
 
 Much of the time I walked ; the air of the uplands 
 almost carried me along, and it was joy to feel my 
 feet on real grass once more. Over the open country 
 short cuts were easy to find, and I generally kept in 
 advance of the others. The groups of Mongols hurry- 
 ing to the town greeted me in friendly fashion ; the 
 look of the desert was in their faces, bold, hardy, 
 burnt, and lined by sun and wind and biting cold.
 
 248 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Like and yet unlike the Tibetans I had seen in 
 Tachienlu, they were slighter of build and gayer and 
 more open of expression ; they attracted me as the 
 others had repelled me. Scrambling over the grassy 
 slopes, I more than once lost my way, but some 
 Mongol always turned up to put me straight. 
 
 Our first stops at noon and at night were at way- 
 side inns built much like a Turkish khan on two or 
 three sides of an enclosure of mud and stones, and 
 furnished with a strong gate. At one, the small pri- 
 vate room off a large common hall was given to me 
 and to a neat-looking Chinese woman who appar- 
 ently was travelling alone and on horseback. Two 
 thirds of the room was taken up bya"kang," or plaster 
 furnace, raised some three feet above the floor, and 
 on this our beds were spread. But that was my last 
 sight of a house for many a day ; henceforth there 
 was nothing but tents and " yurts." 
 
 Our stop the next night was at a small Mongol 
 settlement of several yurts. One of these was vacated 
 for me. Judging from those I stayed in later, it was 
 unusually large and clean. 
 
 Here I was in the unchanging East, if it be any- 
 where to-day. More than six centuries ago an ob- 
 servant Venetian passed this way, and his brief de- 
 scription of a Mongol abode fits as well now as it did 
 then. "Their huts or tents," says Marco Polo, "are 
 formed of rods covered with felt, and being exactly

 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 249 
 
 round and neatly put together, they can gather them 
 into one bundle." But since his description is so brief, 
 it may be supplemented by a more modern traveller, 
 genial Abbe Hue, whose visit dates back only sixty- 
 five years : 
 
 "The Mongol tent, for about three feet from the 
 ground, is cylindrical in form. It then becomes con- 
 ical, like a pointed hat. The woodwork of the tent is 
 composed below of a trellis-work of crossed bars, 
 which fold up and expand at pleasure. Above these, 
 a circle of poles, fixed in the trellis- work, meets at the 
 top, like the sticks of an umbrella. Over the wood- 
 work is stretched, once or twice, a thick covering of 
 coarse linen, and thus the tent is composed. The 
 door, which is always a folding door, is low and 
 narrow. A beam crosses it at the bottom by way of 
 threshold, so that on entering you have at once to 
 raise your feet and lower your head. Besides the 
 door there is another opening at the top of the tent 
 to let out the smoke. This opening can at any time 
 be closed with a piece of felt, fastened above it in 
 the tent, which can be pulled over it by means of a 
 string, the end of which hangs by the door. The in- 
 terior is divided into two compartments ; that on the 
 left, as you enter, is reserved for the men, and thither 
 the visitors proceed. Any man who should enter on 
 the right side would be considered excessively rude. 
 The right compartment is occupied by the women,
 
 250 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and there you find the culinary utensils : large earthen 
 vessels of glazed earth, wherein to keep the store of 
 water; trunks of trees, of different sizes, hollowed into 
 the shape of pails, and destined to contain the prepar- 
 ations of milk, in the various forms which they make 
 it undergo. In the centre of the tent is a large trivet, 
 planted in the earth, and always ready to receive the 
 large iron, bell-shaped cauldron that stands by, ready 
 for use." 
 
 And that is just what I found, but the tent cover- 
 ing was always of felt, not linen, and there were 
 often two tents, one for the men and one for the 
 women, instead of a tent with two divisions; and 
 alas, more often than not, the hollow tree trunk was 
 replaced by Standard Oil tins. But as the Mongol 
 lived in Marco Polo's time, and Hue's, so he does 
 still, and so he will continue to live until Chinese 
 colonization or Russian rule forces him to give up 
 his nomadic ways and settle down and cultivate the 
 soil. 
 
 Around the yurt gathered women and children, 
 dogs and calves. They were friendly, almost too 
 much so, and the women interested me as much as 
 I did them. All alike were clad in long, shapeless 
 woollen garments that might have been any colour, 
 so grimy were they, but the dirt and rags of their 
 dress only set off the more the splendour of their 
 headgear; a broad bandeau, elaborately fashioned
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 251 
 
 of silver and set with bright stones, turquoise, and 
 coral, encircled the head, and from this hung long 
 chains and pendants falling to the shoulders. This is 
 the woman's dowry, with which she never parts, wear- 
 ing it apparently day and night. The women them- 
 selves, in spite of the dirt, were good-looking ; fine 
 eyes, rather good though heavy features, a skin 
 darkened by the sun and wind, gave them the look 
 of peasants of southern Europe. In bearing they 
 were much gayer and more unconstrained than the 
 Chinese. 
 
 Mongolia, the land of many names, with a great 
 past and perhaps with a future, but to-day merely a 
 pawn in the world's game, is a great plateau rising 
 some four thousand feet above the sea, the eastern 
 extension of the T'ien-Shan, or " Heavenly Moun- 
 tains." It stretches east and west nearly two thou- 
 sand miles, but its north and south width is only 
 about nine hundred. In the central part of the pla- 
 teau is a huge depression which the Mongol calls 
 Gobi, the " Desert," or Shamo, the " Great Sand," 
 and the Chinese, Han-Hai, or "Rainless Sea." To 
 the north the high land rises and breaks into the 
 wooded hills and mountains of the Altai Range, and 
 there are many streams, most of them finding their 
 way sooner or later into the Amur. To the south the 
 land rolls in great grassy waves up to the foot of 
 the mountain barrier along the Chinese frontier, but
 
 252 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 the forests have all been swept away, and the few 
 streams quickly lose themselves in the ground. Over 
 most of the seven hundred miles between Kalgan 
 and Urga there are no trees save half a dozen scrub 
 elms, and the only rivers are the Sha Ho, or " Rivers 
 of Sand." But the grassland, after the summer rains 
 have set in, is like the rolling prairies of the West, 
 and even in Gobi there are only about fifty miles 
 quite without vegetation. Elsewhere there is a sparse 
 growth of coarse scrub broken by stretches of rock 
 and sand. 
 
 In crossing Gobi one sees here and there a marsh 
 or shallow salt lake, telling of a different climate in 
 a bygone time, but to-day the passing caravan de- 
 pends on wells of varying depth, and found at ir- 
 regular intervals, ten, twenty, even fifty miles apart. 
 They date back beyond the tradition of living men, 
 and each has its name and character. In some the 
 water is never-failing, in others it quickly runs dry. 
 Occasionlly it is slightly brackish, but usually it is clear 
 and cold. Without these wells the three hundred 
 miles of Gobi would impose an almost impassable 
 barrier between North and South Mongolia. As it is, 
 the desert takes its toll from the passing caravan ; 
 thirst, hunger, heat, and cold count their victims 
 among the animals by thousands, and the way is 
 marked by their bleaching bones. 
 
 This great, featureless, windswept plateau keeps
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 253 
 
 but a scanty population of less than three millions. 
 On the northern and southern borders a few among 
 the people have adopted the settled ways of the Chi- 
 nese ; but elsewhere they live as their fathers lived 
 before them, their fields the land where the flocks are 
 grazing, their home the spot where the yurts are 
 temporarily set up. Nomads they are, but within de- 
 finite limits, moving no long distance nor very often. 
 Over them rule their native princes or khans, subject, 
 up to last year, nominally to China ; but Chinese in- 
 terference has mostly been confined to the exaction of 
 a tribute and a good part of that stuck to the fingers 
 of the princes through whose hands it passed and 
 to occasional demand for police or military service. 
 The head of the Chinese administration is or was the 
 Amban at Urga, and his duties seemed to consist in 
 looking after the Chinese traders there and keeping 
 a watchful eye on the Living Buddha, the spiritual 
 and maybe now the political head of Mongolia. But 
 in spite of his many rulers, or perhaps because of 
 them, the Mongol seems to know little of the evils or 
 benefits of government. It is far away, it does little 
 for him, but in turn its demands are small. 
 
 The Mongol's wealth consists in his herds ; horses, 
 cattle, sheep, camels. In our sense he owns no land, 
 but if he digs a well, which, I believe, he rarely does, 
 he has certain rights over it, and his claims to the 
 water and grass near his yurt should be respected.
 
 254 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 His friends have to admit that the Mongol is lazy. 
 His chief duty is to keep an eye on his herds, but 
 mostly they take care of themselves. Each drove of 
 horses is in the charge of a stallion which looks 
 sharply after the mares, fighting savagely with any 
 other stallion which attempts to join the herd. I am 
 told that the owner only needs to count his stallions 
 to be sure that all the mares have come home. There 
 is almost nothing of Mongolian manufacture, just 
 rugs and felt and saddles ; and most of the work is 
 done by the women. Nor does the Mongol till the 
 soil ; nothing is found growing near his yurt. Unlike 
 the rice-eating people just across the Great Wall, his 
 diet is almost wholly meat, and milk in some form or 
 other, cheese, curds, koumiss. The tea which he 
 drinks in enormous quantities, so that even my " boy " 
 opened his eyes, is brought by the Chinese traders. 
 The Mongol has great endurance ; days in the sad- 
 dle are nothing to him, and he sleeps as soundly on 
 his camel as on the ground. Nor does he seem to 
 mind heat or cold. I have seen them wearing sheep- 
 skin coats in the blazing summer sun, and at night 
 the men on the march would throw themselves down 
 without a rug or mat under the open sky, and the 
 nights were often cold. If he must, the Mongol can 
 go a long time without eating, but when the chance 
 comes he is a great glutton, bolting enormous quan- 
 tities of half-cooked meat. Drunkenness, I am told,
 
 THE MONGOLIAN GRASSLAND 255 
 
 is a Mongol failing. By preference he gets drunk on 
 whiskey ; failing that, on a sort of arrack of soured 
 mare's milk. On the other hand, the opium habit does 
 not seem to have crossed the frontier. Very rarely is 
 a Mongol addicted to that. But they all smoke to- 
 bacco, men, women, and children, just as they 
 all ride. To appreciate the Mongol you must see him 
 on horseback, and indeed you rarely see him 
 otherwise, for he does not put foot to ground if he 
 can help it. The Mongol without his pony is only half 
 a Mongol, but with his pony he is as good as two 
 men. It is a fine sight to see him tearing over the 
 plain, loose bridle, easy seat, much like the Western 
 cowboy, but with less sprawl. 
 
 The Mongol of to-day is the degenerate son of the 
 conquering warriors of a thousand years ago. Once 
 his name carried terror to the shores of the Midland 
 Sea. Now those who do not like him can say with some 
 truth that he lives the life of an animal, mating rather 
 than marrying, his warlike spirit gone, his home a 
 lair, his chief pleasures gorging and getting drunk ; 
 but those who do like him and they are the ones 
 who know him best declare he is a good fellow, 
 gay. good-tempered, independent, hospitable.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 
 
 TOWARD the end of the third day from Kalgar 
 we were following 1 a blind trail among low s 
 grass-covered hills, all about us beautiful pasture- 
 land dotted over with herds of horses and cattle. A 
 sharp turn in the road revealed a group of yurts like 
 many that we had passed, but two khaki tents a little 
 at one side showed the European, and in a few min- 
 utes I found myself among the new friends that so 
 speedily become old friends in the corners of the 
 world. 
 
 Here I was to make the real start for my journey 
 across the desert, and by good luck it turned out that 
 one member of the little settlement, a man wise in 
 ways Mongolian, was leaving the next morning for 
 & trip into the heart of Mongolia, and if I went on at 
 once we could journey together for the two or three 
 days that our ways coincided. There was nothing to 
 detain me, fortunately, and by noon the next day I 
 was again on the road. 
 
 I looked with some complacency at my compact 
 but wholly adequate little caravan. My luggage, in- 
 cluding a capacious Chinese cotton tent, was scien-
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 257 
 
 tifically stowed away in a small Russian baggage 
 cart, a strong, rough, two-wheeled affair drawn by 
 two ponies, and driven by the Mongol who was to 
 guide me to Urga. My boy bestrode rather gingerly 
 a strong, wiry little Mongol pony, of the " buckskin " 
 sort, gay with Western saddle and red cloth. Wang 
 bravely said he would do his best to ride the pony 
 when I did not care to use him, but he added pa- 
 thetically that he had never before mounted any- 
 thing save a donkey. As for me, I sat proudly in an 
 American buggy, a "truly" one, brought from the 
 United States to Tientsin and then overland to Kal- 
 gan. It was destined for a Mongol prince in Urga, 
 and I was given the honour of taking it across the 
 desert. There are various ways of crossing Mongolia, 
 in the saddle, by pony, or camel cart ; one and all are 
 tiring; the desert takes its toll of the body and the 
 spirit. But here was a new way, and if comfort in 
 Gobi is obtainable it is in an American buggy ; and 
 with a pony for change, no wonder I faced the desert 
 without dismay. 
 
 The combined caravans looked very imposing as 
 we moved off. All told, we were one Swede, one 
 American, one Chinese, seven Mongols, one Irish- 
 man (Jack), and twelve horses. Three of the Mon- 
 gols were lamas, the rest were laymen, or " black 
 men," so called from their unshorn black hair worn 
 in a queue. They were all dressed much alike, al-
 
 258 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 though one of the lamas had clothes of the proper 
 red colour, and all rode their sturdy ponies well, 
 mounted on high-peaked saddles. 
 
 After the first day we fell into our regular course, 
 an early start at six o'clock or so, long halt at noon, 
 when tents were set up, and all rested while the 
 horses grazed, and then on again until the sun went 
 down below the horizon. During the hotter hours I 
 took my ease in the buggy, but in the early morn- 
 ing, and at the end of the day I rode. The Mongols 
 were gay young fellows, taking a kindly interest in 
 my doings. One, the wag of the party, was bent on 
 learning to count in English, and each time he came 
 by me he chanted his lesson over, adding number 
 after number until he reached twenty. The last few 
 miles before getting into camp was the time for a 
 good race. Then, riding up with thumbs held high 
 in greeting, they would cry to me "San?" ("All 
 right?") and answering back "San!" I touch my 
 horse and we are off. Oh, the joy of those gallops 
 with the horsemen of the desert ! For the moment 
 you are mad. Your nomad ancestors we all have 
 them awake in you, and it is touch and go but you 
 turn your back forever on duties and dining, on all 
 the bonds and frills that we have entangled ourselves 
 in and then you remember, and go sadly to bed. 
 
 The weather was delightful ; whatever there might 
 be in store for me, the present was perfect. A glori-
 
 JACK AND HIS LAMA FRIEND 
 
 MY CARAVAN ACROSS MONGOLIA
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 259 
 
 ous dawn, no severe heat but for a short time in the 
 middle of the day, which cooled off rapidly in the late 
 afternoon, the short twilight ending in cold, starlit 
 nights. The wonder of those Mongolian nights ! My 
 tent was always pitched a little apart from the con- 
 fusion of the camp, and lying wrapped in rugs in my 
 narrow camp-bed before the doors open to the night 
 wind, I fell asleep in the silence of the limitless space 
 of the desert, and woke only as the stars were fading 
 in the sky. 
 
 At first we were still in the grassland; the rolling 
 country was covered with a thick mat of grass dotted 
 with bright flowers, and yurts and men and herds 
 abounded. Happenings along the road were few. 
 The dogs always rushed out from the yurts to greet 
 us. They looked big and savage, and at first, mind- 
 ful of warnings, I kept close guard over Jack ; but he 
 heeded them as little as he had the Chinese curs, and 
 hardly deigned a glance as he trotted gaily along by 
 the horses who had captured his Irish heart. Once 
 we stopped to buy a pony, and secured a fine " cal- 
 ico " one, unusually large and strong. Again a chance 
 offered to get a sheep, not always possible even 
 though thousands are grazing on the prairie, for a 
 Mongol will sell only when he has some immediate 
 use for money. The trade once made, it took only a 
 short time to do the rest, to kill, to cut up, to boil 
 in a big pot brought for the purpose, to eat.
 
 260 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Two hundred miles from Kalgan we passed the 
 telegraph station of Pongkiong manned by two 
 Chinese. It is nothing but a little wooden building 
 with a bit of a garden. The Chinese has his garden 
 as surely as the Englishman, only he spends his energy 
 in growing things to eat. At long intervals, two hun- 
 dred miles, these stations are found all the way to 
 Urga and always in the charge of Chinese, service- 
 able, alien, homesick. It must be a dreary life set 
 down in the desert without neighbours or visitors save 
 the roving Mongol whom the Chinese look down 
 on with lofty contempt. Indeed, they have no use 
 for him save as a bird to be plucked, and plucked 
 the poor nomad is, even to his last feather. It is not 
 the Chinese Government but the Chinese people that 
 oppress the Mongol, making him ready to seek re- 
 lief anywhere. Playing upon his two great weak- 
 nesses, lack of thrift and love of drink, the wandering 
 trader plies the Mongol with whiskey, and then, tak- 
 ing advantage of his befuddled wits, gets him to take 
 a lot of useless things at cut-throat prices but no 
 bother about paying, that can be settled any time. 
 Only when pay-day comes the debts, grown like a 
 rolling snowball, must be met, and so horses and 
 cattle, the few pitiful heirlooms, are swallowed up, 
 and the Mongol finds himself afoot and out of doors, 
 another enemy of Chinese rule. 
 
 Whenever we halted near yurts, the women turned
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 261 
 
 out to see me, invading my tent, handling my things. 
 They seemed to hold silk in high esteem. My silk 
 blouses were much admired, and when they investi- 
 gated far enough to discover that I wore silk "knick- 
 ers," their wonder knew no bounds. In turn they 
 were always keen to show their treasures, especially 
 of course their headdresses, which were sometimes 
 very beautiful, costing fifty, one hundred, or two 
 hundred taels. 
 
 A wife comes high in Mongolia, and divorce must 
 be paid for. A man's parents buy him a wife, paying 
 for her a good sum of money which is spent in pur- 
 chasing her headgear. If a husband is dissatisfied with 
 his bargain he may send his wife home, but she takes 
 her dowry with her. I am told the woman's lot is 
 very hard, and that I can readily believe : it generally 
 is among poor and backward peoples ; but she did 
 not appear to me the downtrodden slave she is often 
 described. On the contrary, she appeared as much a 
 man as her husband, smoking, riding astride, manag- 
 ing the camel trains with a dexterity equal to his. 
 Her household cares cannot be very burdensome, no 
 garden to tend, no housecleaning, simple cooking 
 and sewing; but by contrast with the man she is 
 hard-working. Vanity is nowise extinct in the femi- 
 nine Mongol, and, let all commercial travellers take 
 note, I was frequently asked for soap, and nothing 
 seemed to give so much pleasure as when I doled
 
 262 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 out a small piece. Perhaps in time even the Mongol 
 will look clean. Asiatics as a rule know little about 
 soap ; they clean their clothes by pounding, and them- 
 selves by rubbing ; but sometimes they put an exag- 
 gerated value upon it. A Kashmir woman, seeing 
 herself in a mirror side by side with the fair face of 
 an English friend of mine, sighed, "If I had such 
 good soap as yours I too would be white." 
 
 But there is a good deal to be said against wash- 
 ing, at least one's face, when crossing Gobi. The dry, 
 scorching winds burn and blister the skin, and wash- 
 ing makes things worse, and besides you are some- 
 times short of water ; so for a fortnight my face was 
 washed by the rains of heaven (if at all), and my hair 
 certainly looked as though it were combed by the 
 wind, for between the rough riding and the stiff 
 breezes that sweep over the plateau, it was impossi- 
 ble to keep tidy. But, thanks to Wang, I could al- 
 ways maintain a certain air of respectability in putting 
 on each morning freshly polished shoes. 
 
 Of wild life I saw little ; occasionally we passed a 
 few antelope, and twice we spied wolves not far off. 
 These Mongolian wolves are big and savage, often 
 attacking the herds, and one alone will pull down a 
 good horse or steer. The people wage more or less 
 unsuccessful war upon them and at times they organ- 
 ize a sort of battue. Men, armed with lassoes, are 
 stationed at strategic points, while others, routing the
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 263 
 
 wolves from their lair, drive them within reach. Sand 
 grouse were plentiful, half running, half flying before 
 us as we advanced, and when we were well in the 
 desert we saw eagles in large numbers, and farther 
 north the marmots abounded, in appearance and 
 ways much like prairie dogs. 
 
 At first there were herds on every side. I was 
 struck by the number of white and grey ponies, and 
 was told that horses are bred chiefly for the market in 
 China, and this is the Chinese preference. Cattle and 
 sheep are numbered by thousands, but I believe these 
 fine pasture lands could maintain many more. Occa- 
 sionally we saw camels turned loose for the summer 
 grazing; they are all of the two-humped Bactrian 
 sort, and can endure the most intense winter cold, 
 but the heat of the summer tells upon them severely, 
 and when used in the hot season, it is generally only 
 at night. 
 
 From time to time we passed long baggage trains, 
 a hundred or more two-wheeled carts, each drawn 
 by a bullock attached to the tail of the wagon in 
 front. They move at snail's pace, perhaps two miles 
 an hour, and take maybe eight weeks to make the 
 trip across the desert. Once we met the Russian par- 
 cels-post, a huge heavily laden cart drawn by a camel 
 and guarded by Cossacks mounted on camels, their 
 uniforms and smart white visored caps looking very 
 comical on the top of their shambling steeds. Most
 
 264 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 of the caravans were in charge of Chinese, and they 
 thronged about us if a chance offered to inspect 
 the strange trap ; especially the light spider wheels 
 aroused their interest. They tried to lift them, meas- 
 ured the rim with thumb and finger, investigated 
 the springs, their alert curiosity showing an intelli- 
 gence that I missed in the Mongols, to whom we 
 were just a sort of travelling circus, honours being 
 easy between .the buggy, and Jack and me. 
 
 We were now in the Gobi. The rich green of the 
 grassland had given way to a sparse vegetation of 
 scrub and tufts of coarse grass and weeds, and the 
 poor horses were hard put to get enough, even 
 though they grazed all night. The country, which 
 was more broken and seamed with gullies and rivers 
 of sand, Sha Ho, had taken on a hard, sunbaked, re- 
 pellent look, brightened only by splendid crimson 
 and blue thistles. The wells were farther apart, and 
 sometimes they were dry, and there were anxious 
 hours when we were not sure of water for ourselves, 
 still less for the horses. One well near a salt lake was 
 rather brackish. This lake is a landmark in the en- 
 tire region round ; it seems to be slowly shrinking, and 
 many caravans camp here to collect the salt, which 
 is taken south. The weather, too, had changed ; the 
 days were hotter and dryer, but the nights were cool 
 and refreshing always. 
 
 For eleven days we saw no houses but the two
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 265 
 
 telegraph stations, save once early in the morning 
 when we came without warning upon a lamassery 
 that seemed to start up out of the ground ; the open 
 desert hides as well as reveals. It was a group of 
 flat-roofed, whitewashed buildings, one larger than 
 the rest, all wrapped in silence. There was no sign 
 of life as we passed except a red lama who made 
 a bright spot against the white wall, and a camel 
 tethered in a corner, and it looked very solitary and 
 desolate, set down in the middle of the great, empty, 
 dun-coloured plain. 
 
 I had now separated from my travelling compan- 
 ions, cheering the friendly Mongols with some of my 
 bountiful supply of cigarettes. As they rode off they 
 gave me the Mongol greeting, " Peace go with you." 
 I should have been glad to have kept on the red 
 lama to Urga, for he had been very helpful in look- 
 ing after my wants, and had befriended poor Jack, 
 who was quite done up for a while by the hot desert 
 sands ; but I let him go well pleased with a .little 
 bottle of boracic acid solution for his sore eyes. The 
 Mongols, like so many Eastern peoples, suffer much 
 from inflammation of the eyes, the result of dirt, and 
 even more of the acrid argol smoke filling the yurts 
 so that often I was compelled to take flight. I expect 
 the stern old Jesuit would say of them as he did of 
 the Red Indian, "They pass their lives in smoke, 
 eternity in flames."
 
 266 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 For about eight days we were crossing the desert, 
 one day much like another. Sometimes the track 
 was all up and down : we topped a swell of ground 
 only to see before us another exactly like it. Then 
 for many miles together the land was as flat and as 
 smooth as a billiard table, no rocks, no roll ; and we 
 chased a never-ending line of telegraph poles over a 
 never-ending waste of sand. Another day we were 
 traversing from dawn till sundown an evil-looking 
 land strewn with boulders and ribs of rock, bleak, 
 desolate, forbidding. 
 
 Nowhere were there signs of life, nothing grow- 
 ing, nothing moving. For days together we saw no 
 yurts, and more than one day passed without our 
 meeting any one. Once there appeared suddenly on 
 the white track before us a solitary figure, looking 
 very pitiful in the great plain. When it came near it 
 fell on its face in the sand at our feet, begging for 
 food. It was a Chinese returning home from Urga, 
 walking all the seven hundred miles across the desert 
 to Kalgan. We helped him as best we could, but he 
 was not the only one. 
 
 An old red lama, mounted on a camel and bound 
 for Urga, kept near us for two or three days, sleeping 
 at night with my men by the cart, and sometimes 
 taking shelter under my tent at noon, where he sat 
 quietly by the hour smoking my cigarettes. He was 
 a nice old fellow with pleasant ways, nearly choking
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 267 
 
 himself in efforts to make me understand how won- 
 derful I was, travelling all alone, and what splendid 
 sights I should behold in.Urga. 
 
 And so time passed ; tiring, monotonous days, re- 
 freshing, glorious nights, and then toward the end of 
 a long, weary afternoon I saw for a moment, faintly 
 outlined in the blank northern horizon, a cloud? a 
 mountain ? a rock ? I hardly dared trust my eyes, and 
 I looked again and again. Yes, it was a mountain, a 
 mountain of rocks just as I was told it would loom up 
 in front of me for a moment, and then disappear ; 
 and it disappeared, and I rejoiced, for at its base the 
 desert ended ; beyond lay a land of grass and streams. 
 
 We camped that evening just off the trail in a little 
 grassy hollow. In the night rain fell, tapping gently 
 on my tent wall, and for hours there mingled with 
 the sound of the falling rain the dull clang of bells, as 
 a long bullock train crawled along in the dark on its 
 way to Urga. 
 
 The next day rose cloudless as before. My land- 
 mark could no longer be seen, but I knew it was not 
 far off, "a great rock in a weary land," and already 
 the air was fresher and the country seemed to have 
 put on a tinge of green. 
 
 In the afternoon a little cavalcade of wild, pictur- 
 esque-looking men dashed down upon us in true Mon- 
 gol style, trailing the lasso poles as they galloped. 
 With a gay greeting they turned their horses about,
 
 268 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and kept pace with us while they satisfied their curi- 
 osity. This was my first sight of the northern Mon- 
 gol, who differs little from his brother of the south, 
 save that he is less touched by Chinese influence. In 
 dress he is more picturesque, and the tall, peaked hat 
 generally worn recalled old-time pictures of the in- 
 vading Mongol hordes. 
 
 The great mountain had again come in sight, 
 crouching like a huge beast of prey along the boul- 
 der-strewn plain. But where was the famous lamas- 
 sery that lay at its foot ? Threading our way through 
 a wilderness of rock, heaped up in sharp confusion, 
 we came out on a little ridge, and there before us 
 lay Tuerin, not a house but a village, built in 
 and out among the rocks. It was an extraordinary 
 sight to stumble upon, here on the edge of the unin- 
 habited desert. A little apart from the rest were four 
 large temples crowned with gilt balls and fluttering 
 banners, and leading off from them were neat rows 
 of small white plastered cottages with red timbers, 
 the homes of the two thousand lamas who live here. 
 The whole thing had the look of a seaside camp- 
 meeting resort. A few herds of ponies were grazing 
 near by, but there was no tilled land, and these hun- 
 dreds of lamas are supported in idleness by contribu- 
 tions extorted from the priest-ridden people. A group 
 of them, rather repulsive-looking men, came out to 
 meet us, or else to keep us off. As it was growing
 
 HORSEMEN OF THE DESERT, NORTH MONGOLIA
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 269 
 
 late, and we had not yet reached our camping-place, 
 I did not linger long. 
 
 We camped that night in the shadow of the moun- 
 tain. The ground was carpeted with artemisia, which 
 when crushed gave out a pungent odour almost over- 
 powering. Before turning in we received a visit from 
 a Chinese trader who gave us a friendly warning to 
 look out for horse-thieves ; he had lost a pony two 
 nights back. Here, then, were the brigands at last ! 
 For the next three nights we kept sharp watch, camp- 
 ing far off the road and bringing the ponies in around 
 my tent before we went to sleep. One night, indeed, 
 the two men took turns in sitting up. Fortunately 
 my Chinese boy and the Mongol hit it off well, for 
 the Mongol will not stand bullying, and the Chinese 
 is inclined to lord it over the natives. But Wang was 
 a good soul, anxious to save me bother, and ready 
 to turn his hand to anything, putting up tents, sad- 
 dling ponies, collecting fuel, willing always to follow 
 the Mongol's lead save only in the matter of getting 
 up in the morning. Then it was Wang who got us 
 started each day, lighting the fire before he fell upon 
 Tchagan Hou and pulled him out of his sheepskin ; 
 but once up, the Mongol took quiet and efficient 
 control. 
 
 At Tuerin country and weather changed. There 
 was now abundance of grass, and the ponies could 
 make up for the lean days past. Thousands of cattle
 
 270 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and sheep again gladdened our eyes, and the pony 
 herds were a splendid sight ; hundreds of beautiful 
 creatures, mostly chestnut or black, were grazing 
 near the trail or galloping free with flowing mane 
 and tail. 
 
 We had been warned that the rainy season was 
 setting in early, and for three days we met storm af- 
 ter storm, delaying us for hours, sometimes keeping 
 us in camp a day or more. We stopped for tiffin the 
 first day just in time to escape a drenching, and did 
 not get away again until six o'clock. As some Chinese 
 pony traders had encamped alongside of us, and 
 there were two or three yurts not far away, I did not 
 lack amusement. The Mongolian women camped 
 down in my tent as soon as it was up, making them- 
 selves much at home. One was young and rather 
 good-looking, and all wore the striking headdress of 
 North Mongolia. Like that of the south, it was of 
 silver, set with bright stones, but it was even more 
 elaborate in design, and the arrangement of the hair 
 was most extraordinary. Parted from brow to nape 
 of the neck, the two portions were arranged in large 
 plastered structures like ears on either side of the 
 head ; these extended out almost to the width of the 
 shoulder, and were kept in place by bars of wood or 
 silver, the two ends of hair being braided and brought 
 forward over the breast. This is the style of head- 
 dressing adopted at marriage and rarely meddled
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 271 
 
 with afterwards. The dress, too, of these northern 
 Mongol women was striking. Over their usual loose, 
 unbelted garment (the Mongol for " woman " means 
 " unbelted one ") they wore short coats of blue cotton 
 with red sleeves, and the tops of these were so raised 
 and stiffened that they almost raked the wearer's 
 ears. On their feet they had high leather boots just 
 like their husbands', and if they wore a hat it was of 
 the same tall, peaked sort. The sight of a Mongol 
 woman astride a galloping pony was not a thing to 
 be forgotten ; ears of hair flapping, high hat inse- 
 curely poised on top, silver ornaments and white 
 teeth flashing. 
 
 It was nine o'clock before we camped that night, 
 but we did not get off the next day until afternoon 
 because of the rain, and again it was nine in the 
 evening when we pitched our tent in a charming 
 little dell beautiful with great thistles, blue with the 
 blue of heaven in the lantern light. 
 
 The next day I was getting a little desperate, and 
 against Tchagan Hou's advice I decided to try bully- 
 ing the weather, and when the rain came on again 
 I refused to stop. As a result we were all soaked 
 through, and after getting nearly bogged, all hands 
 of us in a quagmire, I gave it up and we camped on 
 the drenched ground, and there we stayed till the 
 middle of the next day spending most of our time 
 trying to get dry. The argols were too wet to burn,
 
 272 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 but we made a little blaze with the wood of my soda- 
 water box. For two days we had tried in vain to 
 buy a sheep, and the men's provisions were running 
 short. If it had not been for the generous gift of the 
 Kalgan Foreign Office, we should have fared badly, 
 but Mongols and Chinese alike seemed to be free 
 from inconvenient prejudices, and my men, whom I 
 called in to share the tent with me, feasted off tins 
 of corned beef, bologna sausage, and smoked her- 
 ring, washed down by bowls of Pacific Coast canned 
 peaches and plums ; and then they smoked ; that 
 comfort was always theirs, and if the fire burned at 
 all, it smoked, too, and occasionally a drenched trav- 
 eller stopped in to be cheered with a handful of 
 cigarettes. And then all curled up in their sheep- 
 skins and slept away long hours, and I also slept on 
 my little camp-bed, and outside the rain fell steadily. 
 But at last a morning broke clear and brilliant ; 
 the rain was really over. The ponies looked full and 
 fit after the good rest, and if all went well we should 
 be in Urga before nightfall. We were off at sunrise, 
 and soon we entered a beautiful valley flanked on 
 either hand by respectable hills, their upper slopes 
 clothed with real forests of pine. These were the first 
 trees I had seen, except three dwarfed elms in Gobi, 
 since I left behind the poplars and willows of China. 
 Yurts, herds, men were everywhere. Two Chinese 
 that we met on the road stopped to warn us that the
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 273 
 
 river that flowed below Urga was very high and ris- 
 ing fast, hundreds of carts were waiting until the 
 water went down, and they doubted if we could get 
 across. This was not encouraging, but we pushed on. 
 It was plain that we were nearing the capital, for the 
 scene grew more and more lively. At first I thought 
 it must be a holiday ; but, no, it was just the ordi- 
 nary day's work, but all so picturesque, so full of 
 Man and colour, that it was more like a play than 
 real life. 
 
 Now a drove of beautiful horses dashed across the 
 road, the herdsmen in full cry after them. Then we 
 passed a train of camels, guided by two women 
 mounted on little ponies. They had tied their babies 
 to the camels' packs, and seemed to have no diffi- 
 culty in managing their wayward beasts. Here a 
 flock of sheep grazed peacefully in the deep green 
 meadows beside the trail, undisturbed by a group of 
 Mongols galloping townwards, lasso poles in hand, 
 as though charging. Two women in the charge of 
 a yellow lama trotted sedately along, their quaint 
 headdresses flapping as they rode. Then we over- 
 took three camels led by one man on a pony and 
 prodded along by another, actually cantering, I 
 felt I must hasten, too, but unhurried, undisturbed, 
 scarcely making room for an official and his gay 
 retinue galloping towards the capital, a bullock 
 caravan from Kalgan in charge of half a dozen blue-
 
 274 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 coated Celestials moved sedately along, slow, per- 
 sistent, sure to gain the goal in good time, that 
 was China all over. 
 
 And then the valley opened into a wide plain 
 seamed by many rivers, and there before us, on the 
 high right bank of the Tola and facing Bogda Ola, 
 the Holy Mountain, lay Urga the Sacred, second to 
 Lhasa only in the Buddhist world. 
 
 But we were not there yet ; between us and our 
 goal flowed the rivers that criss-cross the valley, and 
 the long lines of carts and horses and camels and 
 bullocks crowded on the banks bore out the tale of 
 the Chinese. We push on to the first ford ; the river, 
 brimming full, whirls along at a great rate, but a few 
 carts are venturing in, and we venture too. Tchagan 
 leads the way, I follow in the buggy, while the boy 
 on the pony brings up the rear, Jack swimming joy- 
 ously close by. The first time is great fun, and so is 
 the second, but the third is rather serious, for the 
 river gets deeper and the current swifter each time. 
 The water is now almost up to the floor of the buggy, 
 and the horse can hardly keep his footing. I try to 
 hold him to the ford, cheering him on at the top of 
 my voice, but the current carries us far down before 
 we can make the opposite bank. 
 
 Four times we crossed, and then we reached a ford 
 that seemed unfordable. Crowds are waiting, but no 
 one crosses. Now and then some one tries it, only to
 
 ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI 275 
 
 turn back, and an overturned cart and a drowned 
 horse show the danger. But we decide to risk it, 
 hiring two Mongols, a lama and a " black man," to 
 guide our horses. One, on his own mount, takes the 
 big cart horse by the head ; the other, riding my 
 pony, leads the buggy horse. Wang comes in with 
 me and holds Jack. The crowds watch eagerly as 
 we start out ; the water splashes our feet. First one 
 horse, then another, floundering badly, almost goes 
 down, the buggy whirls round and comes within an 
 ace of upsetting, the little dog's excited yaps sound 
 above the uproar. Then one mighty lurch and we 
 are up the bank. Four times more we repeat the 
 performance, and at last we find ourselves with only 
 a strip of meadow between us and Mai-ma-chin, the 
 Chinese settlement where we plan to put up. Clat- 
 tering along the stockaded lane we stop before great 
 wooden gates that open to Tchagan's call, and we 
 are invited in by the Mongol trader who, warned of 
 our coming, stands ready to bid us welcome.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 
 
 URGA the Sacred City, the home of the Gigin, 
 the Living God, third in the Buddhist hier- 
 archy, is not so much one city as three, all located on 
 a high ridge above the Tola. Each is distinct, separ- 
 ate, entrenched. Arriving from the south, the one 
 you reach first is Mai-ma-chin, the Chinese trading 
 settlement, a tangle of small houses and narrow lanes 
 hemmed in by stockades of wooden slabs and un- 
 barked fir trees. Here are the eight or ten thousand 
 Chinese who control the trade of North Mongolia. 
 Apparently they make a good living, for there is a 
 prosperous bustle about the place, and as you pick 
 your way over the mud and filth of the streets, 
 through open doorways you catch glimpses of courts 
 gay with flowers and gaudily decorated houses such 
 as the well-to-do Chinese build. But for the most 
 part dull blank walls shut you out or in. The Chi- 
 nese is an unwelcomed alien in Mongolia, and he 
 knows it. 
 
 A strip of waste, treeless land, bare of everything 
 save a group of " chortens," that look like small pa- 
 godas, and a few yurts and sheds, separates Mai-
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 277 
 
 ma-chin from the Russian settlement which occupies 
 the highest part of the ridge, dominating everything 
 in a significant way. It centres in the consulate, a 
 large white building surrounded by high walls, but 
 more prominent is the tall red Russo-Asiatic Bank 
 close by. Other buildings are a church and a few 
 houses and shops. The Russian Consulate also is 
 well fortified, with the last contrivances for defence, 
 walls, ditches, wire entanglements, and it looks 
 fit to stand a siege. 
 
 Before reaching Urga proper, the Mongol or lama 
 city, which lies about three miles farther west, shut 
 off from the others by a branch of the Tola, you pass 
 the headquarters of the Chinese governor, and he, 
 too, has entrenched himself behind strong earth- 
 works. Ta Huren, the " Great Encampment," as the 
 Mongols call Urga, which is not a Mongol word at 
 all, but merely a modification of the Russian "urgo," 
 a camp or palace, is a network of palisaded lanes 
 enclosing, not comfortable houses and offices and 
 banks, as in Mai-ma-chin, but temples and lamasser- 
 ies. And well within these is the most sacred spot of 
 all, the lamassery where dwells enthroned Bogdo or 
 the Gigin, the Living Buddha ranking after the Dalai 
 Lama and the Tashi Lama only. 
 
 To Bogdo the Mongol millions look up as a god ; 
 he is the living representative of the divine one ; and 
 the city where he lives is the goal of thousands of
 
 278 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 pilgrims each year. And what do they see ? until 
 late years, just a feeble, untaught child. When the 
 Bogdo dies, his soul is reincarnated in the body of a 
 newly born male child. For a hundred years or more 
 that child has been always Tibetan, not Mongolian ; 
 probably the Chinese Government knows why. And 
 the lamas who swarm the sacred encampment, de- 
 based representatives of a debased religion, probably 
 could tell, if they would, why, in the past, the child 
 has never lived to be a man. Furthermore, the Rus- 
 sian Consul-General at Urga probably knows the 
 secret of the long life of the present incumbent, who 
 is well past the time that has proved so fatal to his 
 predecessors. 
 
 Politics sordid and gruesome are active within the 
 gaily decorated walls of the sacred lamassery. But 
 all that the outsider sees is a weak, debased-looking 
 man whose vices should soon end his days even if he 
 escapes the lamas' villainy. Formerly he amused him- 
 self with Western toys, photography, and especially 
 motor-cars. It is true the millions of Mongols look 
 to the Gigin as their divine leader, but after all there 
 are ranks even in divinityship, and when the Dalai 
 Lama, fleeing from Lhasa before the Younghusband 
 expedition in 1904, took refuge here, they promptly 
 forgot the smaller god to worship at the shrine of a 
 first-rate one, and the Gigin's nose was put out of 
 joint, and stayed so until his distinguished guest had
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 279 
 
 departed. It was to appease his wounded vanity that 
 a Russian official presented him with a motor-car 
 which had been brought to Urga at vast expenditure 
 of effort and money. When I asked what he could 
 have been expected to do with it, for roads there 
 were none, the answer was that to the divine one 
 with fifteen thousand lamas to do his bidding, any- 
 thing was possible. A road was, indeed, constructed 
 to the Bogdo's summer retreat, a few miles away, but 
 alas ! no chauffeur was supplied with the motor-car, 
 and it would not run of itself. When I passed through 
 Urga last year I was told that the undaunted Bogdo 
 had ordered a second car, fully equipped with chauf- 
 feur and all, from America, which was even then at 
 Tientsin, so by now he may be getting stuck in the 
 muddy lanes of the Sacred City, unless he has put 
 away such childish things to take up the farce of 
 governing Mongolia under Russian guidance. 
 
 For more than three hundred years Lamaism has 
 held Mongolia in its grip, checking the development 
 of the country, sapping the vitality and self-respect 
 of the people. More even than every other man you 
 meet is a lama, for it is estimated, by those who 
 know the situation best, that five eighths of the men 
 are lamas, red or yellow, and the evil is on the in- 
 crease At least, two generations ago Abbe Hue 
 placed the proportion at one in three. But lamas are 
 not all of one sort. There are those who live in com-
 
 280 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 munity, permanently attached to some one of the 
 hundreds of lamasseries. They represent probably 
 the abler or more ambitious in the priesthood, and 
 are better versed and more regular in the observ- 
 ances of their order, living a life perhaps not unlike 
 that in Western monasteries in their period of de- 
 cline. It is this class that rules Mongolia under 
 Russia. Still another group might be compared to 
 the begging friars when their brief, glorious day was 
 past ; they wander about the country, east, west, 
 south, to Lhasa, to Omei Shan, to Peking, with lit- 
 tle purpose or plan. As Hue says, " vagabondizing 
 about like birds of passage," finding everywhere 
 food and a tent corner, if not a welcome. They nei- 
 ther teach nor heal, and represent the most worthless 
 though perhaps not the most vicious among the 
 lamas. 
 
 A third class, and the largest, has no parallel, I 
 think, in any Western church at any period. These 
 are the lamas who, sent like the others to the lamas- 
 series at an early age, after having received the pre- 
 scribed training, taking their "degrees," as Hue 
 calls it, return to their homes to live the life of the 
 ordinary Mongol, in no wise to be distinguished from 
 the " black man " save by their shorn heads and the 
 red and yellow dress, which they do not always wear. 
 They marry after a fashion, at least they take wives, 
 though without even the ordinary scanty formalities,
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 281 
 
 and probably the tie is as enduring as the " black 
 man's " marriage. In Southwest Mongolia I was told 
 a lama marries just like other people, while in some 
 northern districts he has no right to his wife, and if a 
 " black man " takes her away he has no redress. The 
 Mongol who attended me on the first stages from 
 Kalgan was a lama with wife, children, and home, 
 faithful and hard-working, at least for a Mongol, and 
 a useful member of society. 
 
 The question one naturally asks is, Why do these 
 men become lamas ; do they do it willingly or under 
 compulsion? Apparently the matter is decided for 
 them by their parents, who send them when boys to 
 some lamassery where they are duly and meagrely 
 trained ; but they do not seem to chafe at their con- 
 dition when they grow up, for the advantages are 
 very real. The parents save in not having to buy wives 
 for their sons, while the lama himself is always sure 
 of support if he goes back to his lamassery, and he 
 is free from all demands by the Government for mil- 
 itary service. 
 
 It is said that the Chinese Government has encour- 
 aged Lamaism with the idea of keeping down the 
 population ; in this way it would avert the danger of 
 Mongol invasion. But Lamaism has already done 
 that in another way, by killing the vigour and war- 
 like temper of the people. The memory of Genghis 
 Khan still lives in the land where he was born ; tra-
 
 282 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 dition holds that the Great Conqueror lies buried on 
 the summit of Bogda Ola, the mountain that towers 
 over Urga, and no one may climb the height lest his 
 sleeping be disturbed. But it is the vicious weakling 
 who holds uncertain sway in the Sacred City, not the 
 spirit of the mighty warrior, that dominates the Mon- 
 gol of to-day. 
 
 Buddhism takes on many forms. On one side you 
 have the gentle, intelligent monk of Burma, and the 
 kindly superstitious bonze of China. But that black 
 travesty of Buddhism, Lamaism, seems to offer no 
 redeeming feature ; brutish in Ladakh, vicious and 
 cruel in Tibet, it is debasing and weakening in its 
 effects upon the Mongol, who comes of finer and 
 stronger stock than either Ladakhi or Tibetan. But 
 he sometimes succeeds in being a good fellow in spite 
 of his religion. 
 
 The first day of my stay in Urga I devoted to re- 
 pairing the damages of the journey across the desert. 
 Oh, the luxury of plenty of hot water, of leisure, of 
 privacy. I scrubbed and I mended, but above all I 
 rested. And if I tired of that, there was always plenty 
 to see just outside my door. The house where I was 
 so kindly entertained was the home of a rich Mongol 
 trader, a man of many deeds and few words. It was 
 built around a large courtyard enclosed in a strong 
 stockade some twelve feet high, the buildings forming 
 part of the enclosing wall. On the long side of the
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 283 
 
 court was a roofed-over space where carts and horses 
 and fuel were kept. To the right hand and to the left 
 were kitchen, godowns, servants' quarters, while on 
 the side facing the great entrance gates boldly dec- 
 orated with the swastika symbol were the family and 
 guest rooms. Along this front was a narrow verandah 
 roofed by the overhanging eaves of the one-story 
 buildings. Most of the windows were of the ordinary 
 Chinese style, wooden lattices covered with paper, 
 but a few were glazed. My room was about four- 
 teen feet by ten in size, one half or more of the space 
 being taken up by a platform some three feet high, 
 on which were a large gaudy rug and two or three 
 tiny tables and chests of drawers. The rest of the 
 furnishing was a rough bench and two decorated cab- 
 inets. The ceiling of the room was covered with a 
 gaily flowered European paper, and on the walls hung 
 some cheap Chinese kakemonos. 
 
 The state rooms, which were next to mine, were 
 evidently held in great esteem, and my hostess dis- 
 played them with the reverent pride of a good New 
 England woman showing her parlour. There were 
 three of them, opening one into the other. In each 
 there was the invariable platform covered by rugs, 
 and big Chinese vases stood about on small tables. 
 
 The life that went on in the courtyard was simple 
 and rather patriarchal. Servants, children, horses, 
 everything was under the eye of the master, a good-
 
 284 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 1 
 
 looking, dignified man. I found it rather difficult to 
 distinguish servants and family ; everybody seemed 
 to be on a familiar footing. But the joy of the place 
 was a small boy, the son and heir, who played with 
 Jack or sat in my room inspecting my things by the 
 half-hour. According to Western ideas children in 
 the East are not " brought up," and it is true they are 
 abominably spoiled, but at least one's heart is not 
 often wrung by seeing them slapped and beaten. 
 
 One of my first rides abroad was to the Russo- 
 Asiatic Bank where I met much courtesy and helpful- 
 ness. Thanks to the bank officials in Peking I was 
 expected, and I found a warm welcome, and a house 
 ready prepared for me, which, however, I could not 
 use, as I was already settled where I was. There is a 
 community of about five hundred Russians in Urga, 
 mostly traders and officials, and a fifth as many sol- 
 diers protecting them. The look of the Russian 
 quarter takes you across the sea, for many of the 
 houses are of logs set in a grass yard, the whole sur- 
 rounded by a high board fence, almost a stockade in 
 strength. Far East and Far West have met, and the 
 homes of the Russian pioneer and American frontiers- 
 man are much alike. 
 
 For many decades Russia has been extending her 
 influence into North Mongolia, patiently and per- 
 sistently, and now through trade and employment 
 she has the country in her grasp. Almost the only
 
 MY MONGOL HOSTESS 
 
 THE MONGOL HOUSE WHERE I STAYED IN URGA
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 285 
 
 foreign people the Mongol knows are the Russians, 
 and as a rule he seems to get on with them rather 
 well, although a Russian official told me he doubted 
 if there was much to choose between the Chinese and 
 the Russian traders ; both fleeced the poor nomad. 
 However, European onlookers, who know Mongolia 
 well, declare that if it came to war between China 
 and Russia, the Mongols would take sides, and 
 with the Russians. 
 
 When I was in Urga there was much talk among 
 the Chinese about the railway that was surely coming, 
 and the Kalgan officials said the same thing. One 
 only wonders that it was not done half a dozen years 
 ago ; there are no serious difficulties. Once outside 
 the Great Wall, the rails could be laid down on the 
 top of the ground almost as fast as a man could 
 walk. Only as you approach Urga, north of the 
 desert, would there be much in the way of bridging 
 and embanking. And it would soon pay for itself, 
 for the millions of taels' worth of trade done between 
 North Mongolia and China would easily be doubled 
 if once freed from the handicap of the costly and un- 
 certain journey of to-day. But more important than 
 all else is the political side of the question. The Chi- 
 nese Government must have known for years that its 
 hold on North Mongolia was insecure ; it has pushed 
 forward colonization by the Chinese with much more 
 than its usual vigour, and, given time, that would
 
 286 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 have settled the matter. But it had no right to count 
 on having time, while a railway across the desert, 
 taking not long to build, would have bound all Mon- 
 golia to the empire with bands truly of steel, that 
 even the Russians could not break. And now is it 
 too late ? 
 
 The hours were quite too short which I had to 
 spend in Urga, the Urga of the Mongols ; the other 
 settlements were merely frontier posts, one Chinese 
 style and the other Russian, new and uninteresting. 
 But Urga, Ta Huren, was another story. To reach it 
 we forded the river, the strong current washing my 
 feet as we rode through. There may be some other 
 way, but that sort of thing is part of the ordinary 
 day's work with the Mongol, and I believe he is 
 rather shy of the one or two bridges the Russians 
 have built. 
 
 Ta Huren has a temporary look that suits its name ; 
 fire or flood could easily sweep it away. And there is 
 nothing of any architectural interest save two or three 
 temples and lamasseries, and having seen one you 
 have seen all, for there is little of beauty or fine 
 workmanship about them. The broad main street 
 and the open spaces above the river were much more 
 attractive, for there the life of the settlement had 
 gathered, and again you had the impression of a 
 holiday. There was too much leisure, too much jol-
 
 URGA, THE SACRED CITY 287 
 
 lity, and too much colour for the work-a-day crowd 
 of the West or of China. People came and went, 
 stopped to talk, stopped to stare. No one seemed in 
 a hurry except one or two self-important officials and 
 their white-jacketed retinue. Only in the horse-mar- 
 ket was there any real business going on. There 
 the crowd seemed really intent on something, but 
 buying and selling horses is a serious matter the 
 world over, in Kentucky or in Mongolia. Indeed, the 
 whole scene reminded me of nothing so much as 
 "Court Day" in Kentucky, done in colour. But the 
 colour made all the difference. Everywhere there 
 were lamas, of course, lamas in red dress and red 
 hats, or lamas with blue-black shaven heads set off 
 by yellow or flame-coloured garments. Women came 
 and went on foot or on horseback, alone or in groups, 
 just as much at home in the motley crowd as the 
 men. Some of them were gorgeously attired, and the 
 flashing of their silver headgear was quite dazzling. 
 Now and then I caught sight of one more soberly 
 clad and with a shaven head, a widow, perhaps, or 
 an old woman who had become the family priest to 
 the extent of performing the daily simple observ- 
 ances. 
 
 Mingling with the gay, happy-go-lucky throng of 
 Mongols were two alien elements: one, the quiet, 
 purposeful, observant, blue-gowned Chinese, each in- 
 tent on his business ; the other, the blue-eyed Cos-
 
 288 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 sacks in white caps and the big, bearded, belted 
 Mujiks, looking tremendously substantial as they 
 lounged heavily along, lazily watching the shifting 
 crowd. I thought of the Afghan Amir Abdur Rah- 
 man's comparison of Russia to an elephant, " who 
 examines a spot thoroughly before he places his foot 
 down upon it, and, when once he puts his weight 
 there, there is no going back and no taking another 
 step in a hurry until he has put his whole weight on 
 the first foot and smashed everything that lies under 
 it." But the Chinese are like the tide, coming in 
 noiselessly, gently, filling each hole and crevice, 
 rising unnoticed higher and higher until it covers 
 the land. Will it sweep away the elephant ?
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 
 
 ONE should spend weeks, not days, in Urga, but 
 alas, time pressed and I had to be " moving on." 
 Just how to move on was a question, for the ponies 
 and buggy with which I had crossed Gobi could go 
 no farther. I finally arranged with a Russian trader 
 for a tarantass and baggage cart to take me the two 
 hundred and twenty-five miles to the head of river 
 navigation beyond Kiakhta. Innumerable cigarettes 
 were smoked while the discussion went on in my room, 
 and at times there seemed much more smoke than 
 progress, for the trader knew only his own tongue and 
 Mongolian, but one of the two Russians who were to 
 go with me spoke a very few words of German, so 
 he and I made shift to understand each other. My 
 Mongol host was on hand, looking after my interests, 
 but he could talk with me only through the medium 
 of Tchagan Hou, who spoke a little Chinese, and 
 Wang, who knew even less English. 
 
 My spirits were rather low as I said good-bye to my 
 kind hosts one bright morning in August. I was sorry 
 to leave Urga with so much unseen, sorry to see the 
 last of Tchagan Hou, who had piloted me so skilfully
 
 290 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 across the desert blessings on his good face ! I hope 
 luck is with him wherever he is and I was sorry to 
 part with my Chinese tent, my home for weeks, and 
 with my little camp-bed, on which I had slept so 
 many dreamless nights. A few days and nights in 
 a tarantass were all that now lay between me and 
 the uninteresting comforts of Western hotels and 
 trains. 
 
 With great inward objection I climbed into the 
 tarantass, like nothing so much as a huge cradle on 
 wheels, drawn by three horses, one, the largest, trot- 
 ting between the shafts, and the other two galloping 
 on either side. At the very outset I had a chance to 
 realize the difference between dealing with the Asi- 
 atic pure and simple, and the Asiatic disguised as a 
 European. We had been told that it would be neces- 
 sary to make an early start to cover the first day's 
 stage before dark. I was on hand, and so was Wang, 
 but it was afternoon before we were finally off. Lug- 
 gage had to be packed and repacked, wheels greased, 
 harness mended, many things done that ought to have 
 been attended to the day before. Now of course that 
 happens in China, though nowhere else in my 
 journeyings did I encounter such dawdling and 
 shiftlessness, but there at least you may relieve 
 your feelings by storming a bit and stirring things up ; 
 these people, however, looked like Western men, and 
 one simply could not do it.
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 291 
 
 So I kicked my heels for hours in the Russian mer- 
 chant's lumberyard, drinking innumerable cups of tea 
 and refusing as many more, and getting light on 
 several things. I had been told that the Russians have 
 little of the Anglo-Saxon's race pride, but I did not 
 suppose they ignored all other distinctions. I was 
 drinking a last glass of tea with the merchant in 
 his pleasant little sitting-room, attractive with many 
 blossoming plants, when Wang came in to collect my 
 things. He was at once boisterously urged to draw 
 up to the table between us. He refused, but the Rus- 
 sian insisted, trying to force him down into a chair. 
 I watched without saying anything as my boy quietly 
 took a glass of tea and a chair and withdrew to the 
 other side of the room. He understood what was 
 suitable better than the Russian. 
 
 Passing out of the little Russian trading settlement, 
 like nothing so much as a thriving, hideous Western 
 village, we drove through the main street of the 
 Mongolian quarter, where all the life of Lama-town 
 seemed to have drifted, for the gaiety and colour were 
 intoxicating. Half an hour took us away from the 
 river and into the hills. The track was rough and 
 boggy and often blocked by interminable trains of 
 bullock carts laden with logs or dressed lumber, Urga's 
 important exports. Toward the end of the day the way 
 became steeper and wilder, ascending between slopes 
 well wooded with spruce and pine and larch and
 
 292 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 birch. It was a joy to be in a real forest again. The 
 flowers that grew in great profusion were more beau- 
 tiful than any I had seen before in North Mongolia, 
 especially the wonderful masses of wild larkspur of 
 a blue so intense that it dazzled the eyes. 
 
 A storm was gathering and we pushed on as fast 
 as we could ; but the road was too rough for speed 
 and we were a long way from our camping-place 
 when a tremendous downpour burst upon us, and in 
 the twinkling of an eye our path was a rushing moun- 
 tain torrent. Dry under my tarpaulin I could enjoy the 
 scene, splendid masses of blue-black clouds shot with 
 vivid flashes of lightning that served only to show 
 the badness of the way and the emptiness of the 
 country. I will say for Ivan, the tarantass driver, that 
 he knew his business and kept the horses on their 
 feet and in the road better than most men could have 
 done. 
 
 We drove on until nine, when the driver declared 
 he could go no farther, and proceeded to make camp 
 by the roadside, not far from a couple of yurts. A 
 light shone out, and there was the sound of angry 
 voices and wrangling, but I could not find out what 
 was the matter. Nicolai's German always gave out, 
 as the Indian babu said his presence of mind did, 
 " in the nick of time." Finally, the Russians sulkily 
 turned their horses loose and set up the little shelter 
 tent where the three men were to sleep. Apparently
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 293 
 
 there was no fuel to be had, and we all went supper- 
 less to bed. 
 
 My first night in a tarantass was very comfortable. 
 The body of the cart, made soft with rugs and sheep- 
 skins, was long enough for me to stretch out at full 
 length if I lay cornerwise, and the hood protected me 
 against rain and wind. When I waked in the morn- 
 ing the whole land was drenched, but the sun shone 
 brilliantly. I started out on my own account to get a 
 a little dry fuel from the Mongols, but was rather 
 brusquely repulsed. And I now found out what was 
 the matter. The people had objected the night before 
 to our camping near the yurts, for it was their hay- 
 field, theirs by the custom which forbids encroaching 
 on the land near a setdement, but the Russians had 
 persisted, and now, in their helpless anger, they 
 were an aged lama and an old woman, they refused 
 to sell us wood. They stood aloof looking ruefully at 
 their trampled meadow as we made ready to start, 
 hardly brightening up at all when I tried to make 
 good their loss. An Englishman or an American 
 would scarcely have asked my boy to sit at table 
 with us, but on the other hand he would have spared 
 the Mongol's poor little hayfield. 
 
 The experience of the first day was repeated all the 
 following days ; a late start in the morning, tedious 
 halts at noon, getting into camp long after dark. In- 
 deed, I do not know when we should have been off
 
 294 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 in the morning" had it not been for Wang. He it was 
 who roused the men, and did his best to get a fire 
 started, collecting fuel for the whole camp. Although 
 it rained every day, I do not think it ever occurred 
 to the Russians to avail themselves of a chance to 
 get dry wood against the next meal, and Wang re- 
 marked sadly that the Russians spent even more time 
 than the Mongols in drinking tea. 
 
 After the first day we left behind the wooded hills 
 and were again in rolling grassland like South Mon- 
 golia, but there was much more water ; indeed, the 
 streams and bogs often forced us to make long de- 
 tours, and finally we came to a deep, strong-flowing 
 river that could not be forded ; but there was a ferry- 
 boat made of four huge, hollowed logs securely lashed 
 together and covered with a loose, rough flooring. 
 The horses were taken out and made to swim across, 
 while the Mongol ferrymen, all lamas and big fellows, 
 went back and forth, taking us and the carts over. 
 
 The second morning we started again without our 
 breakfasts, there was no dry wood. Ivan, the tar- 
 antass driver, and the only one of the party who 
 knew the road, cheered us with the prospect of some- 
 thing hot at a Russian colonist's house an hour far- 
 ther on, but it was four hours' hard driving before 
 we reached the place, which then, however, more 
 than made good all he had claimed for it. 
 
 The two families that formed the little settlement
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 295 
 
 were engaged in cattle raising, and seemed prosper- 
 ous and contented. Their houses and sheds were 
 built of timber and mud, and looked substantial and 
 well suited to stand the cold and winds of North 
 Mongolia. We were given a hearty welcome and 
 taken at once into a large whitewashed room, kitchen, 
 living-room, and bedroom in one. Everything was 
 spotlessly clean ; even under the bed there was no 
 dust. I can testify to that, for I pursued Jack there. 
 The mistress of the house was a very good-looking, 
 dark-browed woman in a neat red gown with a red 
 kerchief tied over her head. She promptly served us 
 with delicious tea from the invariable samovar, and 
 the freshest of eggs and good black bread, while a 
 chicken, for me to take away, was set roasting on 
 a spit before the fire. Two little tow-headed boys, 
 put out of the way on the bed, stared stolidly at us 
 as they munched raw parsnips, and a baby cradled 
 in a basket suspended by a rope from the ceiling was 
 kept swinging by a touch from the mother as she 
 went to and fro. The people seemed to be on friendly 
 terms with their Mongol neighbours, two or three 
 of whom came in while I was there, but it must 
 be a lonely life, a day's ride away from the nearest 
 Russian family. When I asked Nicolai what the chil- 
 dren did for school, he laughed scornfully. "Why 
 should they learn to read ? Their father and mother 
 cannot."
 
 296 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 Such homes as these are Russia's advance posts 
 in Mongolia, but given a fair field and she would 
 stand no chance, for the Chinese colonists must out- 
 number the others a hundred to one. From this time 
 on we saw more and more signs of cultivation, the 
 pasture land was broken by great fields of rye and 
 barley, and the yurts of the Mongol were often re- 
 placed by Chinese houses, looking on the outside 
 much like the one just described, save that the win- 
 dow openings were filled with paper instead of glass. 
 
 Board signs, not unlike " Keep off the grass " ones 
 of the West, were set up here and there, showing a 
 Chinese holding. With or without government aid 
 the Chinese are coming in. They get land from the 
 Mongols very much, I imagine, as did the first Eng- 
 lish settlers in America, buying for a song what the 
 owner does not know he is selling. And once estab- 
 lished they are not easily dislodged, for they are 
 good farmers, thrifty and untiring. In the end they 
 will oust the Mongol from the best lands as sure as 
 fate, unless Russia first ousts them, as apparently 
 she is doing. I am sorry for the Mongol ; he is a 
 happy-go-lucky, likeable fellow, but it is all nonsense 
 for the Russian Government to talk about the way 
 the Chinese settlers are wronging him, taking away 
 the tillable lands. He does not want them to till, but 
 to pasture his herds, and that is just the difficulty. It 
 is not China but civilization that is driving the Mon-
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 297 
 
 gol to the wall, just as the Red Indian was driven. 
 Nowadays the people that will not make the best use 
 of the land must give it up to those who will. 
 
 The next day promised to be a long, hard one, and 
 proved even harder than I had expected. First the 
 little dog was run over by my own baggage cart. 
 I thought surely he was dead, and then I feared the 
 first use of the revolver I had brought from America 
 would be to end his gay little life. The Russians 
 shook their heads dolefully and gave no help, but 
 Wang lent a hand with his cheerful " all right," and 
 in twenty-four hours Jack was able to bark at the 
 horses, even though he was too much bunged up to 
 stand. 
 
 My other trouble was the behaviour of the man 
 Ivan. He was in fact a thoroughly bad sort, lazy, 
 stupid, sullen, and brutal to his horses. He was sup- 
 posed to take orders from the other Russian, but he 
 refused to obey him or any one. Only when by signs 
 I could make clear what I wanted could I do any- 
 thing with him ; then I could sometimes put enough 
 peremptoriness in my voice to bring him to heel. 
 Added to the natural bad temper of the man he was 
 drinking constantly, and was quite beyond control. 
 
 The country where we now were was a succession 
 of beautiful valleys watered by many streams and 
 enclosed by barren, treeless hills, a rich, uninterest- 
 ing district. We stopped for tiffin by a broad stream
 
 298 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 bordered by willows. The grass was good, but the 
 flies were so maddening that the poor ponies hardly 
 grazed at all. Hot as it was, I thought they were 
 better off moving than in this pestilential spot, but it 
 was impossible to get Ivan started. For hours he 
 slept and drank, while the horses twitched their skins 
 and switched their tails and stamped their feet, and 
 between times tried to snatch a bite. Poor-looking 
 women and boys from some yurts crept over to our 
 camp, and sought eagerly through the grass for any 
 finds in the way of tins or bottles. They were quite 
 the most miserable natives that I saw on my trip. 
 As for me, I sat on the ground, comforting Jack and 
 longing for a Chinese or a Mongol or anything that 
 had learned to obey. 
 
 Finally at half-past five the driver roused from his 
 drunken doze and we started off again. On and on we 
 go, over a tedious, uninteresting stretch ; the sun goes 
 down, the twilight deepens into night, and the stars 
 come out. At half-past eight I ask how much longer 
 we must drive, and am told two hours. At half-past 
 eleven I try to make the man understand he must 
 stop, but he pays no attention. And it is one o'clock 
 when I see the river in front of us, glimmering in the 
 misty moonlight. In a minute we are in the water ; 
 two steps more and the swift current is up to the 
 horses' sides, and the tarantass begins to turn over. 
 Ivan, now thoroughly awake, jumps out, the other
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 299 
 
 Russian helps, and with much pushing and flounder- 
 ing the horses manage to struggle back to shore. 
 This is plainly no ford, and as there is no help in 
 sight we camp on the bank for the rest of the night, 
 no grass for the horses, nothing to make a fire. Af- 
 ter a bite of black bread and a tea-cup of the Foreign 
 Office Bordeaux, I curl up in the tarantass, shivering 
 with damp river cold, and Wang, rolled up in his 
 sheepskin, sleeps on the ground underneath. As for 
 the Russians, I commit them cheerfully to all the joys 
 of rheumatism. 
 
 For once every one is up at dawn. A passing lama 
 directs us to a ferry down the river, where we cross 
 by means of a flat-bottomed boat worked by an iron 
 cable. On the other side the men start a fire and we 
 get some hot tea. Again I am struck by the familiar 
 way in which the Russians hobnob with the Mongols. 
 Anglo-Saxons of their class would not do it. I won- 
 der if the " hail-fellow-well-met" treatment offsets the 
 injustice and rough handling the natives often get 
 from their northern neighbours, and if on the whole 
 they like it better than the Anglo-Saxon's fairness 
 when coupled with his reserve. A distinguished In- 
 dian, not a reformer, once said to me, " My country- 
 men prefer sympathy to justice." Perhaps that is true 
 of other Asiatics also. 
 
 For three or four hours after starting off again we 
 traversed much the same sort of country as the day
 
 300 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 before, crossing fertile valleys, climbing rough hill- 
 sides to avoid bogs. There were not many signs of 
 cultivation, but along the horizon we could see the 
 dark line of a forest, a welcome change. Just before 
 reaching it we turned off across the plain to the yurts 
 of the helpful lama of the morning. We were expected 
 and given a warm welcome in more senses than one, 
 for the yurt into which I was at once taken was so 
 hot that I thought I should faint. How those people 
 in their woollen clothes could endure the heat was a 
 mystery. 
 
 The lama, a well-appearing, elderly man, seemed 
 completely fitted out with wife and children and yurts 
 and herds. He was plainly a person of substance, 
 and the head of quite a settlement. The yurt where 
 I was received was very spacious, and was furnished 
 precisely as Hue described sixty years ago. There 
 was one novelty, a stove-pipe connected with a sort 
 of cement stove, but perhaps this was merely for 
 ornament, as my dinner was cooked in a pot placed 
 upon a tripod over a fire of wood and argols. I was 
 given the seat of honour, a sort of divan, and milk 
 was placed on a small, low table before me. But I at 
 once espied something more interesting than food. 
 Round the walls of the yurt were ranged one or two 
 tables and chests of drawers. On one were some 
 books, detached leaves in leather covers with clasps. 
 These were the lama's sacred books. Very stupidly,
 
 LAMA AND HIS " WIFE
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 301 
 
 for I had been told that no secular hand may touch 
 them, I started to pick one up, but the man courte- 
 ously but very firmly waved me back ; hardly would 
 he allow me to look at them from a distance. He as- 
 sured me he could read them, but that is not true of 
 most lamas. A little altar set out with small images 
 and pictures of Buddha, and among them a cheap 
 photograph of the Gigin of Urga, did not seem half 
 so sacred, for the lama displayed them freely, even al- 
 lowing me to inspect the dozen or so small metal pots 
 containing oil and other offerings which were ranged 
 in front of the images. 
 
 When our food was ready, the lama carried off the 
 Russians to eat in the men's tent ; that is the rule, 
 but the neighbours, men and women, who had flocked 
 in, stayed to watch me. Various strange dishes were 
 put before me ; best of all, some hard curds decorated 
 with lumps of sugar. Sugar is a great delicacy with 
 the Mongols. 
 
 As we were nearing the land of hotels, I emptied 
 my tiffin basket here, making my hosts and their friends 
 happy with tins of jam and marmalade and sardines 
 and beef extract, not to mention enamelled cups and 
 plates and stew-pans. Everything was eagerly taken, 
 even empty jars and bottles, and they seemed as 
 pleased as children with a new toy. 
 
 The country changed abruptly after leaving the 
 last Mongol settlement. Houses of Russian colonists
 
 302 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 occurred frequently, and presently we entered the 
 remnants of a fine pine forest, and from this time on 
 there was no lack of trees. We were now almost at 
 the Russian frontier, and I was becoming uneasy 
 about the fate of my little revolver. It had already 
 undergone various vicissitudes; discovered by the 
 customs officials at Constantinople, they had threat- 
 ened to fine me for violating the law about bringing 
 in firearms, but finally decided to remit the fine but 
 confiscate the weapon. When remonstrated with on 
 the ground that I was a lady going to Asiatic Tur- 
 key and might need it, they made matters straight by 
 returning the revolver, but kept the ammunition. I 
 had paid duty on the thing in Bombay, I had spent 
 hours fitting it with cartridges in Shanghai, many 
 miles it had been carried, kept handy in case of 
 need, although I could not imagine what the need 
 could be, and now I was assured it would be seized 
 and I would be fined if I tried to take it over the 
 Russian frontier. No firearms of any sort may be 
 brought into the empire without a permit procured 
 beforehand. No, the Russians should not have my 
 little revolver. We passed a small pond ; one toss 
 and it was gone. 
 
 The sun was setting as looking across the valley 
 I caught the white gleam of the great church in 
 Kiakhta, but it was after eleven when we rumbled 
 through Mai-ma-chin, the frontier post of China, and.
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 303 
 
 crossing the Russian boundary unchallenged, drove 
 quietly down the long main street of the town. I was 
 too sleepy to notice anything, until I heard the men 
 chuckling softly, and I waked up to find that we were 
 past the custom house. " It would be too bad to 
 disturb the sleepy sentinels, so we took off the bells," 
 they explain. I imagine they had added to their other 
 misdeeds by doing a bit of smuggling. 
 
 It seemed to me that we drove for hours through 
 the dark, echoing streets of Kiakhta, but at last we 
 stopped before the white wall of a long, low building, 
 and in a moment I was in another world. Behind 
 me were the wide, open plains of Mongolia and the 
 starlit nights in tent or tarantass. Here was Russia, 
 half Europe, half Asia, and wholly uninteresting. But 
 at least there was a good bed awaiting me, and the 
 most wonderful little supper ever served at midnight 
 on short notice, delicious tea, good bread and butter, 
 and the most toothsome small birds, served hot on 
 toast in a casserole. Where in a Western frontier 
 town could one find the like? 
 
 But it was not until I waked the next morning that 
 I realized how very Western Kiakhta is : humble log 
 houses side by side with pretentious stuccoed build- 
 ings, rickety wooden sidewalks or none at all, streets 
 ankle-deep in dust one day, a bog the next ; but the 
 handful of fine residences, and above all the great 
 white church costing fabulous sums in decorations,
 
 3 o 4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 tell of Kiakhta's great commercial past, a history that 
 goes back two hundred years, when Gobi was alive 
 with the long lines of camel caravans coming and 
 going between the Great Wall and the Russian 
 border. Those were the days when the great tea 
 merchants of Kiakhta heaped up huge fortunes, to 
 squander them in ways common to the suddenly rich 
 all over the world. But with the building of the rail- 
 way, trade turned aside, and to-day the town bears 
 the marks of decaying fortunes. The storehouses are 
 half empty, many of the great merchant families have 
 gone away or are ruined, and were it not for the 
 regiments stationed at this frontier post, Kiakhta 
 would be wrapped in the silence of the desert. It 
 remains to be seen what will be the effect of the rail- 
 way Russia proposes to build between Verchneudinsk 
 and Urga. It may give new life to the town, but of 
 course it is military and political in its purpose rather 
 than commercial. During my four days' trip from 
 Urga there was very little traffic coming or going, 
 and unless Mongolia's resources prove unexpectedly 
 rich, the days of Kiakhta's prosperity are gone be- 
 yond recall. 
 
 But I did not stop long to investigate either the 
 past or the present interest of Kiakhta, for by the 
 next afternoon I was off again, finally ending my tar- 
 antass journey some eighteen miles north of the 
 town, in a great lumberyard on the right bank of
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 305 
 
 the Iro, the starting-point of the steamer to Verchneu- 
 dinsk. There, together with some scores of people, 
 mostly Russian officers and their families, I kicked 
 my heels among the lumber for ten hours, waiting 
 for the belated boat. It rained most of the time, and 
 the two tiny waiting-rooms were crowded to over- 
 flowing with people and luggage ; there was no res- 
 taurant, and I should have starved had not good 
 Wang made friends with some Chinese workmen 
 and got me some eggs. Finally we were told the 
 boat would not come till morning, so each person 
 tried to find a corner and go to sleep. I had just 
 curled up comfortably, at one end of a great, un- 
 finished shed where the horses had been put out of 
 the rain, when a cry sounded through the dark that 
 the boat was coming. By one o'clock we were off. 
 Everything was in confusion and every one was 
 cross. I had secured a cabin beforehand, and then 
 found I was expected to share it with a young Rus- 
 sian officer going home on leave. I quite regretted 
 my airy, quiet corner in the open shed. 
 
 All the next day we were steaming in leisurely 
 fashion down the Iro, making long stops at little 
 hamlets in the forest, where all the inhabitants of the 
 half-dozen log houses clustered round the invariable 
 white church with green domes turned out to meet 
 us, often bringing bottles of delicious milk to sell. 
 They were mostly of the peasant type, large, fair.
 
 306 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 and stolid-looking. The scenery along the river was 
 dull and monotonous, low, heavily wooded banks, 
 broken now and then by a little clearing. It was a 
 sodden, unkempt, featureless country, and I found 
 myself longing for the journey's end. 
 
 On the boat the third-class passengers were mostly 
 Russian peasants and a few Chinese, with a little 
 group of frightened-looking Mongols. I fancy they 
 wished themselves back in the desert ; I know I did. 
 In the first and second class there were almost none 
 but military people, the men all in full uniform of be- 
 wildering variety. Most of them were tall and large, 
 but rather rough in manner. I imagine one does not 
 find the pick of the Russian army on the frontier. 
 
 We reached Verchneudinsk well after dark, and 
 a queer little tumble-down phaeton took us to the 
 inn chosen because of its German-speaking landlord. 
 Here I spent two days waiting for the Moscow Ex- 
 press. After I had started my invaluable Wang off 
 on his journey back to Peking by way of Harbin and 
 Mukden, I had nothing to do but rest and enjoy the 
 charming courtesies of the officials of the Russo- 
 Asiatic Bank. Verchneudinsk has little of interest, 
 however ; it is just a big, new town, raw and unfin- 
 ished, half logs and half stucco, with streets that are 
 mostly bog, and several pretentious public buildings 
 and an ugly triumphal arch marking the visit of the 
 Tsar a few years ago. Civilization has some com-
 
 NORTH TO THE SIBERIAN RAILWAY 307 
 
 pensations, but half-civilization is not attractive ; and 
 it was a happy moment when I found myself with 
 Jack in my own little compartment on the Moscow 
 Express, westward and homeward bound.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A FEW FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 
 
 IT is rather presumptuous for the strolling West- 
 erner who can count only months in China to 
 have any impressions at all of anything so huge, so 
 old, so varied, so complicated as China and its peo- 
 ple, and still more inexcusable to put these impres- 
 sions before the world. And yet it may be possible 
 to find some sort of an excuse if one is bent on 
 doing it. 
 
 We live to-day in a time of surprises. Turkey is 
 reforming, China waking up, the self-satisfied com- 
 placency of the white race has received a shock, and 
 more are feared. Most of us of the West are anxious 
 to get over the wall, or look around it, we are told 
 it is there, and see what that other man is really 
 like. We read books written by those who have spent 
 years in China, in Japan, in India, and we realize that 
 they know thoroughly this or that corner of the whole. 
 We talk with the man who has lived his life among 
 the people of the East, and we feel that he has 
 plumbed them to the core along one line. He has 
 preached to them, he has healed them, he has traded 
 with them, and he knows them as the doctor or the
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 309 
 
 trader knows his community. The men and women 
 of the West who have spent their lives in the East 
 have usually gone there with definite purpose and 
 compelling duties. They rarely see more than one 
 part of the whole country, their work holds them 
 fast, and they are prone to see it from the point of 
 view of the interest that took them there. Out of 
 these chapters of intimate knowledge can be put 
 together a great exhaustive study of the whole, but 
 no one has done that yet ; the time has not come, 
 perhaps. 
 
 Now the traveller with no preoccupying purpose, 
 and fresh from a bird's eye view of large sections of 
 the country, is likely to talk a good deal of nonsense, 
 and yet he may tell some things of interest that the 
 old resident has ceased to see from very familiarity. 
 If you mention them, he says, " of course," but to 
 those at home they are not " of course," and some- 
 times they are worth telling. 
 
 My first and my most lasting impression of the 
 Chinese was how very like they are to us. I had 
 been told it was a mistake to approach China from 
 the east : you touched twelve at once. Nowhere would 
 you find another country and people so strange, so 
 different from anything before imagined. Rather you 
 should approach China from the west, then with each 
 stage as you travelled eastward stranger and ever 
 stranger worlds would open before you. That is what
 
 3 io A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 I did ; it just happened so. India was already some- 
 what known to me, and on this trip I stopped there 
 only a few weeks, seeing each day more that was 
 difficult to understand, and then I went on to China, 
 and to my great surprise felt myself almost at home. 
 
 Of course at first sight most things were queer, 
 that is to say, different from what they are in the West 
 The men wore their hair braided down their backs, 
 and the women dressed in trousers, and both mourned 
 in white. The seat of honour was on the left, not on 
 the right, and when people greeted you they shook 
 hands with themselves. All that one is prepared for, 
 but being prepared does not take away from the im- 
 pression of queerness. But even from the beginning, 
 and the feeling grew stronger as the days lengthened 
 into weeks and the weeks into months, underneath 
 this surface difference the Chinese seemed to me 
 more like ourselves, or maybe our ancestors, more 
 like us at one stage or another, than any other peo- 
 ple of the East that I had known. 
 
 In India, as every one knows, religion dominates 
 the life of the people. A man is first of all a follower 
 of a certain creed, a Hindu or a Moslem, and the ob- 
 servances of that creed control his daily acts in a 
 way to which there is no parallel in the West or 
 in China. The principles of Christianity underlie the 
 best of Western civilization, but the majority of men 
 in Europe or America pay little conscious heed to
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 311 
 
 Christ's teachings as they make the daily round of 
 work and pleasure, and generally they confine their 
 formal religious observances to one day of the week, 
 if as often. The Chinese, to be sure, is one of the 
 most superstitious of men, but there is little more re- 
 ligion in his fears than is implied in the practices of 
 many a Westerner. He never builds a straight en- 
 trance into his house, for he believes that evil spirits 
 cannot move in a curved line ; and across the world, 
 people who call him names because of this refuse to 
 sit down thirteen at table. The malign influences ap- 
 peased, the average Chinese goes his way untroubled 
 or unconsoled by any thought concerning that which 
 is to come, or at most he strives to acquire merit, not 
 for a week only, but for the whole year, by some pil- 
 grimage much more strenuous than church-going. 
 Like the Western man of to-day he also is impatient 
 of priestly control, and is apt to say slighting things 
 of his spiritual leaders. His mind is set, not on things 
 above, but on the bread-and-butter, or, more precisely, 
 rice, aspect of life. The scale of rewards is different, 
 but the mainspring of daily living is much the same 
 in the Far East and the Far West. 
 
 Or put it in another way : with Chinese and man 
 of the West alike, national standards, national aims, 
 all bear the mark of the industrial world. In America 
 and in Europe the chief concern is industry, indus- 
 try in the large sense, agriculture, manufacture, com-
 
 312 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 merce. These are the interests that concern the people, 
 that control their policy. In India religion holds this 
 place, while in Japan the ideals of the old social order 
 were military, and in a measure that is still true of 
 the new. But in China material interests have full 
 possession of the field, and the strong man of the 
 Chinese nation is not the soldier or the priest, but 
 the merchant. 
 
 And there is something very Western, very Ameri- 
 can, as America used to be, in the small part played 
 by the Government in the life of the ordinary Chinese. 
 If he does not misbehave and keeps out of a lawsuit, 
 he rarely comes in contact with his rulers. He is ac- 
 quainted with the saying of Mencius that " the people 
 are of the highest importance, the gods come second, 
 the sovereign is of lesser weight," and he knows the 
 place of the Government, but he expects little from 
 it, and neither does he fear it. 
 
 It is the district officer who represents to the ordi- 
 nary Chinese the Government, and there are about 
 fifteen hundred of these in the eighteen provinces, 
 about one to every two hundred and fifty thousand 
 of the population. The headman of the village is the 
 only official of whom the Chinese really knows much, 
 and he is one of the village folk, governing by home- 
 made rules of very ancient date, and never interfer- 
 ing if he can help it. Policemen are few, and the va- 
 rious inquisitorial boards and officers that make us
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 313 
 
 clean and sanitary and safe in spite of ourselves are 
 simply non-existent. No one inspects the Chinese 
 garbage pail except the pig, or sniffs about for defec- 
 tive drains, or insists upon a man's keeping the road- 
 way in front of his house in order, or compels him to 
 have his children vaccinated. The tyranny of the 
 majority may exist in China, but it is not exercised 
 through the Government. The Chinese as he is to- 
 day has been fashioned and shaped by long-inherited 
 custom, and the dead hand rests heavily upon him, 
 but he is not a government product, nor is he likely 
 to be just yet. 
 
 And the Chinese is democratic in very much the 
 same way that the American is. If there has been an 
 aristocracy at all, it has been essentially one of race, 
 the conqueror and the conquered, and hereditary 
 distinctions have played a very small part in the past 
 outside Peking and the Manchu circle. An official 
 career is, in theory, and in good measure in practice, 
 open to the man who is fit, no matter what his ante- 
 cedents ; and the poor boy has quite as good a chance 
 to make himself fit for all save the highest posts as 
 in America. Nor is there always much to choose be- 
 tween the American and Chinese standard of fitness. 
 To regard success as commander in a small war as 
 qualifying a man for the civil headship of a great 
 industrial state does not seem much more reasonable 
 than to make skill in writing a literary essay the test
 
 3 i4 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 for a high military post. And one thing more, the 
 Chinese, in so many things essentially democratic, 
 abases himself before the power of riches as much as 
 the American, and far more than any other Asiatic. 
 Now, since the Chinese expects little of the gov- 
 ernment, he has learned to rely upon himself and his 
 fellows. Like the Englishman and the American, and 
 unlike the Frenchman and the German, he takes the 
 initiative. The Government is weak, the individual 
 or group of individuals strong ; the Government does 
 little, so the other side does much. All over the East, 
 in Burma, Indo-China, the Malay States, the Phil- 
 ippines, wherever he can force an entrance, you 
 find the Chinese merchant and the Chinese coolie, 
 and it is no state-managed enterprise that takes them 
 there. Just as the British workmen emigrate, or the 
 British merchants seek out new markets, so the Chi- 
 nese make their way without leading or assistance. 
 And they succeed ; throughout all that territory that 
 lies between the China Sea and the Bay of Bengal, 
 whether under British or French rule, unless actually 
 barred out, the Chinese is entrenching himself and 
 prospering. Heavy poll-taxes alone keep him from 
 controlling trade and the labour market in Indo- 
 China ; in the Malay States he is ousting the native 
 and running the British merchant and banker hard ; 
 in Burma he is getting more and more control of 
 trade, and has even succeeded in convincing the
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 315 
 
 Burmese woman that he makes a better sort of 
 husband than her charming but indolent countryman. 
 
 To turn to smaller matters. I am sure I had once 
 known, but I had certainly quite forgotten, that the 
 Chinese, like ourselves and unlike other people of 
 the East, sit on chairs in preference to sitting on their 
 heels. For it gave me a little comfortable shock of 
 surprise when I saw my coolies at dinner sitting on 
 benches around the table, "just like folks," instead 
 of squatting on the ground after the fashion of my 
 Indian servants. It is a small thing, but it marks the 
 Chinese off from all other Asiatics, and brings him a 
 little nearer the West ; and I do not wonder at the 
 touch of pride in the answer of the Chinese student 
 at a New England college when some one remarked 
 on seeing her sitting on the ground, college-girl 
 fashion, with a number of her classmates, that it 
 probably came easier to her to do that, as she was 
 used to it, " Oh, no ; I think you must be confusing 
 us with the Japanese. We Chinese learned to sit on 
 chairs two thousand years ago." 
 
 But not only do the Chinese sit on chairs like our- 
 selves, but they " dine," just as the West does. Not 
 merely are they ready to spend freely on the pleasures 
 of the table, but they make of dinner a social func- 
 tion, longer and more elaborate, and sometimes even 
 more deadly dull than grand dinners at home. The 
 un-Europeanized Indian, rich or poor, is abstemious ;
 
 3 i6 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 he eats simply to satisfy hunger, and dining is with 
 him no more a social occasion than taking a bath at 
 home, much less, indeed, than his own bathing, 
 which seems to be often both a religious and a social 
 act He would not think of entertaining his friends at 
 a dinner party. But my coolies at the wayside inns 
 spent jovial hours over their meals, and the gay 
 Manchu or Chinese diners that I watched at the Pe- 
 king hotel might have been Americans at the Wal- 
 dorf-Astoria, barring a few details. And it seemed 
 very Western, only it was quite Chinese, for the chief 
 of the Kalgan Foreign Office to express his regrets 
 that my stay was too short for him to arrange a din- 
 ner party for me. 
 
 So much has been said of the differences that exist 
 in China, of the wide separation between North and 
 South and West, that I had expected to find repeated 
 there the conditions of India. But externally nothing 
 of the sort was observable. To begin with, almost all 
 Chinese have black hair, almost all wear blue clothes, 
 and almost all eat rice. And the obvious differences 
 between the natives of Chihli and the natives of 
 Kwangtung, for example, are no greater than you 
 would note in passing from Maine to Mississippi ; 
 while in Yunnan and Szechuan, just as in the Western 
 States of America, you seem to be among people 
 from " back East," only slightly modified by different 
 conditions of climate and life.
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 317 
 
 The estimate given me by the Chinese Consul- 
 General at Singapore, a Kwangtung man, as to the 
 proportion of the whole population speaking some 
 form of Mandarin, was about three hundred millions 
 out of a possible three hundred and sixty millions, 
 and this agrees with other statements that I have 
 seen. If this be so, then the enormous majority of 
 the people have the bond of a common tongue. And 
 more than that, all the educated a small propor- 
 tion, of course, although many more know a few 
 symbols have a common written language. 
 
 But as Confucius said thousands of years ago, " not 
 all words are in books, nor all thoughts in words," 
 and the traditions of nature worship, Taoism, Bud- 
 dhism, of Confucius himself, have all put their stamp 
 upon the Chinese, whether of the North or South, 
 and the journeying coolie (and it must be remem- 
 bered he is a great wanderer), no matter where he 
 goes in China, will find himself among men who re- 
 cognize the same obligations, cringe under the same 
 superstitious fears, and strive toward the same goal 
 of material well-being as himself. Fundamental dif- 
 ferences do certainly exist ; North and South China 
 are divided in speech, and the people are unlike, 
 physically and mentally, but I wonder if the separ- 
 ation is really deeper than that between the Northern 
 and the Southern States in America to-day. 
 
 We talk of China as in decay, of the Chinese as
 
 318 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 aged, and the country as exhausted. It is true the 
 soil has been man-handled for ages, like the soil of 
 India, but over great areas it constantly renews its 
 fertility, and, anyway, most of China's resources are 
 underground, untouched. The Government of last 
 year was rotten to the core ; it had outlived its day. 
 But the Government was not the people, and the 
 Chinese are neither worn out nor unsound. 
 
 I think it must be because everything seems fin- 
 ished in China that people talk about her decay. The 
 whole thing impresses you as having been made and 
 completed, after a fashion, a long time ago. Nowhere, 
 save where the touch of the West has been felt, do 
 you see things being tried for the first time. Every- 
 thing has been done in China so many, many times, 
 for so many centuries, and the results have spread 
 abroad all over the empire ; everywhere, in the re- 
 motest corners, you find the same ingeniously con- 
 trived commercial system, the same symmetrical and 
 complicated social order. Being a very clever and 
 resourceful people that has lived a long time, the 
 Chinese have found out a great many things for 
 themselves, and as there was no other clever and re- 
 sourceful people at hand to incite them to other and 
 better ways of doing some things, they went on as 
 they were, neither spending their strength nor sharp- 
 ening their wits in trying experiments. Indeed, ex- 
 perimenting stopped centuries ago ; each natural
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 319 
 
 difficulty, every social and economic problem had 
 been met and answered in some sort of way, and so 
 the people lived year after year, doing things just as 
 their fathers had done them. And now they impress 
 one as very experienced, though old-fashioned ; but 
 not aged, no, not at all. 
 
 On the contrary, face to face with the Chinese at 
 home, one is overwhelmed by an impression of power, 
 actual power, potential power, power of the indi- 
 vidual, power of the group, power well used, power 
 misspent. The impression is almost stunning. You 
 seem to be watching a community of ants, persistent, 
 untiring, organized, only the ant-hill is a town, and 
 the ants are men physically strong, gluttons for work, 
 resourceful, adaptable, cheerful. Then multiply such 
 ant-hills by thousands and you have China. For not 
 merely is the Chinese the best worker in the world, 
 but he also leads in organization. No Chinese stands 
 alone; behind him is the family, the clan, the guild. 
 He does not confront life naked and solitary, he is 
 one of a group ; that gives him confidence, and keeps 
 him under control. It makes it both easier and more 
 difficult to deal with him. Treat him unjustly, and 
 you are fighting, not a man but a group. But if he 
 wrongs you, you have a hold upon him, you can call 
 him to account through his group. 
 
 And the power of organization smooths greatly the 
 daily machinery of living in China. As I leaned over
 
 320 A WAYFARER IN CHINA 
 
 the side of the steamer in Singapore Harbour, watch- 
 ing the seven hundred coolies come aboard that we 
 were taking home to Kwangtung province, the chief 
 officer remarked to me, " A thousand Chinese make 
 us less trouble than one Indian" ; and he went on to 
 explain, " When we enter here, half a dozen Chinese 
 boarding-house keepers come on board and ask how 
 much deck-room we have. They agree on what they 
 want, and then each stakes out his claim, as it were, 
 with bits of red paper emblazoned with Chinese char- 
 acters. A little later coolies come, bringing the lug- 
 gage of the home-going Chinese, each thing marked 
 with a piece of red paper with the same black letter- 
 ing. They ask no questions, but look about until they 
 have found the corresponding marks on the deck, 
 and there they unload. And later the Kwangtung 
 men arrive, each with a red ticket, and they too ask 
 no questions, but just hunt up their things all prop- 
 erly marked, and then proceed to make themselves 
 comfortable. And no one is bothered." 
 
 Or to turn to larger things, what was it but this 
 same power of organization that made ready a great 
 revolutionary movement, permeating a population 
 of three hundred odd millions, and spreading over 
 an area of a million and a half square miles, and all 
 so well and secretly done that, though suspected, it 
 could not be discovered? The Turkish Revolution 
 seemed a triumph of secret preparation, but there
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF CHINA 321 
 
 the task was to convert an organization already 
 made ; here it was necessary both to arouse and to 
 organize. 
 
 But then China has ages of experience, both in 
 organizing and in rebelling, back of to-day. Estab- 
 lishing a Republic, however, is something new ; the 
 Chinese have never before tried their hand at that, 
 but if they will only bring into play now all their 
 undoubted power of organization, of resource, of 
 moderation, they will certainly make a success of 
 their new experiment in government. Given time, 
 and they will do it. Perhaps my view of China's 
 future is rose-coloured. But the thing seen and felt 
 is of tremendous force, and the impression of power 
 that the Chinese made upon me was rather over- 
 whelming. And, anyway, a friendly opinion may be 
 pardoned in one who, during months of solitary 
 travel in China, never met anything but courtesy and 
 consideration from all, whether coolie on the road, 
 villager or innkeeper, official or priest. 
 
 THE END
 
 INDEX
 
 INDEX 
 
 ABDUR RAHMAN, Amir of Afghan- 
 istan, quoted, 288. 
 
 Agriculture, U. S. Department of, 
 207. 
 
 Amban, the, 253. 
 
 American Baptist Mission, 81, 85, 
 158, 183. 
 
 American engineers, surveying in 
 Yunnan, 29. 
 
 American Legation, the, at Pe- 
 king, 232, 237. 
 
 A-Mi-chou, 21, 22. 
 
 Amur River, 251. 
 
 Annamese, in Haiphong, appear- 
 ance and dress of, 12, 13; and 
 the Red River R.R., 15. 
 
 Annamese police, 7, 8. 
 
 Annamese Tirailleurs, 18, 19. 
 
 Anning River, valley of, the short- 
 est trade-route between Sze- 
 chuan and Indo-China, 71; 78, 
 89. 
 
 Arnold Arboretum, 66. 
 
 Assam hills, life on tea-planta- 
 tions of, 17, 18. 
 
 Baber, Colborne, in Chien 
 Ch'ang, 74; cited, 90, 106, 171, 
 181, 182, 191, 204. 
 
 Baikal, Lake, 236. 
 
 Bailey, Captain, English officer at 
 Tachienlu 126 ff.; his later ex- 
 plorations, 127; defends Tibe- 
 tans, 132; 139, 175. 
 
 Barrow, riding in a, 169. 
 
 Batang, 124, 126, 128, 131, 160. 
 
 Bayard, Fort, 7, 8. 
 
 Beggars, absence of, in. West 
 China, 46. 
 
 Bishop, Mrs. Bird, 216. 
 
 Black Rock Rapid, 216, 217. 
 
 Bogda Ola (Holy Mountain), 274, 
 282. 
 
 Bogdo, the Living Buddha, status 
 of, 277; superstitions concern- 
 ing, 278; a second-rate god, 
 278; his motor-cars, 279. And 
 see Gigin, the. 
 
 Bonze, the, his Buddhism, 282. 
 
 Boxer rising (1900), 28, 225, 233. 
 
 Brick tea, transportation of, 105, 
 1 06; how prepared, 159, 160. 
 
 Bridges in Yunnan, 61. 
 
 British American Tobacco Co., 
 67, 183, 235, 242. 
 
 Brooke, Lieutenant, murder of, 
 by Lolos, 75. 
 
 Buddha, colossal figure of, at 
 Chia-ting, 180, 181, 182, 200, 
 201; reigns supreme on Omei, 
 189; his tooth at Wan-nien Ssu, 
 191. 
 
 Buddha, the Living, 253, 277. 
 And see Bogdo and Gigin. 
 
 "Buddha's Glory," 189. 
 
 Buddhism, and lamaism, 138; 
 many forms of, 282; lamaism a 
 "black travesty " of, 282; 317. 
 
 Buggy, an American, in Mongo- 
 lia, 257, 264. 
 
 Burma, Upper, 3. 
 
 Burmese, the, 12. 
 
 Caindu (Chien Ch'ang), 74. 
 
 Calcutta, 112. 
 
 Camel Road, Kalgan to Urga, 
 
 245^- 
 Camels, in Mongolia, 263.
 
 326 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Cameras, feeling of Chinese to- 
 ward, 156, 157. 
 
 Canadian Methodist Mission, 
 183. 
 
 Canton, House of the Dead at, 
 87; 24, 29, 222. 
 
 Cart Road, Kalgan to Urga, 244. 
 
 Catty, the, 33. 
 
 Cave-dwellings, 204. 
 
 Chair-bearers, their traditional 
 calls, 149, 150 and n. 
 
 Chala, King of, his summer pal- 
 ace, 133, 134-136; his troubles, 
 135; 125. 
 
 Chang-ho-pa, 148-150. 
 
 Changsha, outbreak at, 226, 227. 
 
 Chang-te-ho, 224, 227. 
 
 Chang-Tien- You, railway engin- 
 eer, 234. 
 
 Chao Erh Feng, death of, 125. 
 
 Chen River, 123. 
 
 Chen Chia Ch'ang, theatrical per- 
 formance at, 185. 
 
 Chengtu, missionaries from, 133; 
 under the "Emperor of the 
 West," 171, 172; the modern 
 city, 172 ff.; its fine silks and em- 
 broidery, 172, 173; its shops, 
 173, 1 75; British Consul-General 
 at, 173; European community 
 of, 173, 174; missionaries at, 
 174; Tartar population of, 174; 
 the Manchu quarter, 174, 175; 
 one of the most advanced cities 
 of China, 175; police of, 176; 
 French Consul-General at, 176; 
 university of, and its students, 
 i?6i 177 ; railway question 
 and the revolution at, 177; 
 rivalry between Chung-king 
 and, 209; 24, 42, 105, 198, 203, 
 226. 
 
 Chengtu, plain of, 167 ff.; its peo- 
 ple, 167; its bad roads, 167. 
 
 Cheng-kiang, 163. 
 
 Cheo, Mr., 211. 
 
 Chg-pei, 56. 
 
 Cheung-chou, Richthofen quoted 
 concerning, 165, 166, 167. 
 
 Chiang-yi, 65. 
 
 Chia-ting, seat of white-wax in- 
 dustry, 73; the "rose-red city," 
 180 ff.; the flood of 1786, 181, 
 182 ; its insalubrious climate, 
 183; Protestant missions at, 
 183; warfare over cigarette- 
 smoking at, 183 ; coolie hongs in, 
 183; the first city in Szechuan 
 to declare for the Republic, 201 ; 
 161, 178, 179, 203, 204. 
 
 Chia-ting plain, beauty of, 1 80; 
 subject to floods, 181; 184. 
 
 Chien-Ch'ang, district of, diver- 
 sity of crops in, 71, 72; poppy 
 banished from, 72, 94; white- 
 wax industry of, 72, 73; almost 
 unknown to Western world un- 
 til lately, 73, 74; dangers of 
 travelling in, due to neighbour- 
 hood of Lolos, 74, 75; recent 
 steps of government to ensure 
 safety in, 77. 
 
 Chien-Ch'ang valley, 33, 42. 
 
 Chien-Men, the (Peking), 230. 
 
 Chihli, province of, 227, 316. 
 
 Children in the East, how 
 "brought up," 284. 
 
 Chin Ch'uan, region of, almost 
 unknown to Europeans, 119. 
 
 Chin Ch'uan River, 78, 118. 
 
 Chin Tien (Golden Temple), 32. 
 
 Chin Tien Monastery, on summit 
 of Omei Shan, 193-199. 
 
 China, and Tibet, meet in Ta- 
 chienlu, 123; western boundary 
 of, 124; revolution in, effect of, 
 on relations between China and 
 Tibet, uncertain, 125; group-
 
 INDEX 
 
 327 
 
 ing of trees in, 154; status of I railways in Yunnan, 29; said to 
 
 missionaries in, 158, 159; fruit j encourage lamaism in Mon- 
 
 and vegetables in, 206; and j golia, 282. 
 
 Mongolia, meet at Kalgan, 235; I Chinese inns. See Inns. 
 
 hold of, on North Mongolia, J Chinese laborers, on the Red 
 
 insecure, 285; is she in decay? River R.R., 15. 
 
 317, 318; impression produced I Chinese mob, the 176. 
 
 by, 318, 319; her future, 321. 
 
 And see Chinese and Chinese 
 
 Government. 
 
 China, West. See West China. 
 China Inland Mission, 126, 216. 
 
 Chinese revolution. See Revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 Chinese temples. See Temples, 
 Chinese. 
 
 Chinese women. See Women, 
 
 Chinese, the, characteristics of, I Chinese. 
 42, 43; their footwear, 44; ! Ch'ing Ch'i, 105. 
 of Yunnan and Szechuan, physi- j Chit (letter of recommendation), 
 cal characteristics of, 51; dote j the, 211, 212. 
 on children, 56; climatic sus-|"Chou," meaning of, in place- 
 ceptibilities of, 58; and their! names, 3 in. 
 dead, 87, 88; spend freely for | Christians, Chinese, in Hui-li- 
 food, 108; how sacred places are chou, 70; superiority of, to their 
 used by, 113; their lack of! fellows, 128, 129. 
 
 nerves, how illustrated, 120; in 
 Tachienlu, 124, 131; military 
 achievements of , 125, 126; good 
 manners of, 129; their feeling 
 
 "Chuman" pagodas, of Szechuan, 
 
 204. 
 
 Chu-ma-tien, 224. 
 Ch'un, Prince, Regent, 231. 
 
 toward the camera, 156, 157; | Chung-king, the Chicago of West 
 ordinarily peaceable, 176; their j China, 207-213; a treaty port, 
 fondness for theatrical per- 
 formances, 185; friendly rela- 
 tions of Europeans and, in 
 Chung- king, 209; their drama- 
 
 tic ways, 230; their interference | 
 
 208; no limit to its develop- 
 ment, 208; missionaries in, 208; 
 foreign community in, 208, 209; 
 friendliness of Europeans and 
 Chinese in, 209; rivalry be- 
 
 in Mongolia, 253; unwelcome | tween Chengtu and, 209; Mer- 
 chant class of, 209, 210; cos- 
 mopolitan club at, 210, 211. 
 
 aliens there, 276; how like they ' 
 
 are to us! 309 ff.; their self- 
 reliance, 314; found all over the i Cigarettes, 67, 183. 
 
 East, 314; slight outward vari- ' Cloud Mountains, the, 64, 65. 
 
 ations in, in different parts of j Cloudy Sun, City of the, 214. 
 
 the Empire, 316; a vast major- i Coffins, Chinese, 93, 94. 
 
 ity of, have a common tongue, i Colborne Baber. See Baber. 
 
 317. And see Coolies. | Colonial expansion, sought by 
 
 Chinese city, the, in Peking, 230. | Doumer, 9. 
 Chinese funeral, a, 142. i Confucius, 317. 
 
 Chinese Government, projects of ! Constitution of the U. S., lecture
 
 328 
 
 INDEX 
 
 on at Chung-king Men's Club, 
 
 210. 
 
 Cooking, in Yunnan, 58. 
 
 Coolies, for overland journey, im- 
 portance of, 33; contract for, 
 35, 3 6 ; their wages, 36; their 
 character and dress, 43; their 
 cleanliness, 48; long journeys 
 often undertaken by, 212, 213; 
 203, 204, 205. See Fu t'ou and 
 Hong. 
 
 Coolies of the author's caravan 
 (hired at Yunnan-fu), 51, 52, 56, 
 57. 59, 65, 67, 79, 80, 83, 84; 
 (hired at Ning-yuan-fu), 85, 96, 
 97, 103, 107, 108, 115, 121, 129, 
 130, 141, 143, 144, 148, 156, 
 162, 169, 170; their thought- 
 fulness and good- will, 149; dis- 
 missed at Chengtu, 178; (hired 
 at Chia-ting), 183, 185. 
 
 "Crooked sterns," 214. 
 
 Cua-Cam River, n. 
 
 Customs regulations, tend to 
 check development of trade in 
 Tonking, 15. 
 
 "Daisy," 31. 
 
 Dalai Lama, the, 277, 278. 
 Davidson, Warburton, 209, 210. 
 DeMailla, his History of China, 
 
 171. 
 Dead, the, kept unburied in 
 
 China, 87. 
 Didier, M., 224. 
 Dogs, in Mongolia, 259. 
 Dong Dang, 10. 
 Doumer, M., Governor General 
 
 of Indo-China, his energetic 
 
 forward policy, 9-11; and the 
 
 exposition of 1902, 13. 
 Dragon Festival, 176. 
 
 East, characteristics common to, 
 different races of, 42, 43. 
 
 Eliot, Sir Charles, quoted, 28. 
 
 Emperor of Heaven, Mountain of 
 the, 214. 
 
 "Emperor of the West," the, at 
 Chengtu, 171, 172. 
 
 Erh-tsun, 53, 54. 
 
 Escort of soldiers, 38-40; why 
 urged upon travellers, 38; vag- 
 aries of, 41, 121, 122; change of, 
 55; in Szechuan, 77, 78, 98. 
 
 Europeans, and native women, 
 17, 18; and Chinese, in Chung- 
 king, 209. 
 
 Exchange, varying rate of, 97. 
 
 Fan t'an, played by coolies, 59. 
 
 Fei Yueh Ling, ill. 
 
 Ferry, Jules, "1'homme de Ton- 
 king," 9. 
 
 Flowers, profusion of, in moun- 
 tains of Yunnan and Szechuan, 
 62, 65, 66; in the Ta Tu valley, 
 144, 145; north of Urga, 292. 
 
 Foo-chou, 214. 
 
 Food, method of cooking in Yun- 
 nan, 58, 59; some details con- 
 cerning, 108, 109-111. 
 
 Forbidden City, the, in Peking, 
 230. 
 
 Foreign Legion, French, 18, 19. 
 
 France in China, 18 jf.; 224, 225. 
 
 French, race- prejudice among 
 the, 1 8; in Yunnan, 29. 
 
 French consulates in Yunnan, 
 like fortified outposts, 29. 
 
 French troops in Indo-China, fa- 
 miliar with vernacular, 20. 
 
 French sisters, 141, 142. 
 
 Friends' Institute, club at Chung- 
 king, visit to, 210, 211 ; a new 
 departure in mission work, 211. 
 
 Friends' Mission, the, at Chung- 
 king, 209, 210, 213. 
 
 Fruit-growing in China, 206, 207.
 
 INDEX 
 
 329 
 
 "Fu," meaning of, in place- 
 names, 3 in. 
 
 Fu River, the Min sometimes so- 
 called, 203. 
 
 Fulin, 42, 89, 102, 103. 
 
 Fu-ming-hsien, 55, 56. 
 
 Fu t'ou (head coolie), and "the 
 squeeze," 96, 97; an opium- 
 smoker, 107, 108; 35, 36, 48, 
 85, 130, 140, 151, 164, 165. 
 
 Gardens, in Mongolia, 260. 
 
 Genghis Khan, 74, 281, 282. 
 
 Gigin, the (the Living Buddha), 
 Urga the home of, 276, 277. 
 And see Bogdo. 
 
 Glass, rarely seen in West China, 
 40. 
 
 Glorious Dragon Rapid, 214. 
 
 Gobi Desert, crossing the, 256 ff.; 
 the outfit, 256, 257; an Amer- 
 ican buggy in, 257; the party, 
 2 57 2 58; fine weather in, 258, 
 259; gardens in, 260; disad- 
 vantages of bathing while cross- 
 ing, 262; wild life in, 262, 263; 
 vegetation in, 264; no houses 
 in, 264, 265; 235, 251, 252, 304. 
 
 Goddess of Mercy. See Kuan Yin. 
 
 Goddess of Mercy Rapid, 214. 
 
 Goitre, in Southern Szechuan, 68. 
 
 Golden Sand, River of, the 
 Yangtse so called, 64. 
 
 Golden Stream, the, 118. 
 
 Golden Temple, the, 32. 
 
 Goosetail Rock, 217. 
 
 Gordon, Charles G. ("Chinese"), 
 229. 
 
 Grape-nuts, in China, 240, 241. 
 
 Great Cold Mountains, the 
 (Lololand), 75. 
 
 Great Encampment, the. See Ta 
 Huren. 
 
 Great Snow Mountains, 117. 
 
 Great River, the. See Yangtse. 
 Great Wall of China, the, at Nan- 
 
 kow, 234; 246, 285, 304. 
 Gurkhas of Nepal, beaten by 
 
 Chinese, 126. 
 
 Hainan, island of, n. 
 
 Haiphong, difficult approach to, 
 1 1 ; customs officials at, 1 1 ; at 
 police headquarters in, 12; de- 
 scribed, 12, 13; 3, 4, 5, 10. 
 
 Haitang, 95, 96. 
 
 Hakka, 142. 
 
 Han River, and Yangtse, three 
 cities at junction of, 222. 
 
 Han Yuan Kai, 104, 105. 
 
 Han Hai. See Gobi Desert. 
 
 Hankow, the Chicago of East 
 China, 207; and its sister cities, 
 222; the trading centre of the 
 three, 222; the revolution at, 
 222; preparing for journey to 
 Peking at, 223, 224; 38, 219, 
 227. 
 
 Hanoi, capital of Tonking, 10; 
 one of the finest cities in the Far 
 East, 13. 
 
 Hanyang, rival of Bombay in 
 manufactures, 222. See Han- 
 kow. 
 
 Heavenly Mountains. See T'ien- 
 Shan. 
 
 Hei Shi Tan, 216, 217. 
 
 Himis lamassery, 124. 
 
 Hoang River, bridge across, 228; 
 contrast between, and Yangtse, 
 228. 
 
 Hoi-hou, II, 29. 
 
 Ho-k'ou, 10, 18, 19, 20, 66, 67. 
 
 Honan, province of, 227. 
 
 Hong (guild), coolie, 33, 35, 36. 
 
 Hong Kong, where East and West 
 meet, 4; essentials of outfit pro- 
 curable cheap at, 4, 5; 240.
 
 33<> 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, 
 
 37- 
 
 Horse thieves, warning against, 
 269. 
 
 Horses, in Mongolia, 263. 
 
 Hosie, Sir Alexander, 93, 94, 119. 
 
 Hou Wei Tlh, 243. 
 
 Hsi-Liang, and the opium trade 
 of Yunnan, 25. 
 
 Hsiao Hsiang Ling, 91. 
 
 "Hsien," meaning of, in place- 
 names, 3 in. 
 
 Hua-lin-ping, 112, 114, 161. 
 
 Hue, Abbe, quoted, 249, 250, 279, 
 280. 
 
 Hui-li-chou, European women 
 rare visitors to, 69; native 
 Christians in, 70; 67, 68. 
 
 Humphreys, Dr., missionary, 81. 
 
 Hupeh, province of, 38, 218, 227. 
 
 Hupeh money, 37, 38. 
 
 Ichang, from Chung-king to, by 
 river, 2I3/.; a busy place, and 
 why, 22 1 ; its location, 221,222; 
 177, 226. 
 
 Impedimenta, advice as to, 4-6; 
 all essentials procurable at 
 Hong Kong, 4. 
 
 Imperial City, the, in Peking, 230. 
 
 Imperial Post-Office, efficiency of, 
 127, 128. 
 
 India, 310. 
 
 Indo-China, French rule in, 8, 9; 
 under Doumer, 9, 10; little out- 
 ward difference between men 
 and women of, 19. 
 
 Inns, in villages, 47; in towns, 47, 
 48; plenty of hot water the one 
 luxury of, 48; foul-smelling, 48; 
 in Mongolia, 248. 
 
 Intemperance, absence of, in East, 
 simplifies travel there, 84. 
 
 Interpreter, the, a Kiangsi man, 
 
 4, 5; his democratic instincts, 
 203; dismissed at Hankow, 224; 
 34. 77, 78, 79, 86, 96, 97, 99, 
 100, 108, 121, 133, 140, 151, 
 152, 156, 178. 
 
 Iro River, travelling on, 305, 306. 
 
 Irrawaddy River, 71. 
 
 Ivan, tarantass driver, 292, 294, 
 
 297, 298, 299. 
 
 Jack (terrier), 6, 11, 12, 32, 33, 
 34, 40, 45, 46, 60, 61, 95, 103, 
 104, 108, 127, 140, 143, 146, 
 147, 149, 151, 153, 166, 170, 
 178, 192, 205, 224, 229, 239, 
 259, 264, 265, 274, 275, 295, 297, 
 
 298, 307. 
 
 Jam, in praise of, 240. 
 Japan, and the Manchurian rail- 
 way, 246. 
 
 Japanese, at Chengtu, 175. 
 Jardine, Mattheson & Co., 225. 
 Jee-ka, 56. 
 
 Kalgan, China and Mongolia 
 meet at, 235; main roads from, 
 to Urga, 244, 245; an outpost of 
 Russia, 246; 233, 238, 239, 241, 
 242, 243, 252, 257, 266, 273, 
 281. 
 
 Kalgan-Peking R. R. the first rail- 
 way constructed by Chinese, 
 
 234- 
 
 Kang (furnace), 248. 
 Kang Hi, 116. 
 Kerosene, white wax superseded 
 
 by, for lighting, 73. 
 Kiakhta, "very western," 303, 
 
 304; its great commercial past, 
 
 304; 289. 
 
 Kinsha Kiang. See Yangtse River. 
 Ku Niang (author's title), 140. 
 : Kuan Yin (Goddess of Merey), 
 
 temple to, 113.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Kublai Khan, 49, 74. 
 Kung-tan, 214. 
 
 Kwang-chou-wan, 7, 9; bay of, 7. 
 Kwangtung, province of, 51, 105, 
 
 Kwei-chou, 55. 
 Kwei-fu, the 
 
 trackers' Para- 
 
 dise," 216; change in attitude 
 toward foreigners at, 216. 
 Kweilu, the, river-steamer, 221. 
 
 Ladakhis, the, effect of lamaism 
 
 on, 282; 131, 146. 
 Lamaism, in Tachienlu, 124; 
 
 aspect and effects of, 138; 
 
 strength of, in Mongolia, 279, 
 
 280; said to be encouraged by 
 
 Chinese Government, 281; its 
 
 effect on the people, 281, 282; a 
 
 " black travesty " of Buddhism, 
 
 282. 
 Lamas, ferocity of, 131; different 
 
 kinds of, 279, 280, 281. 
 Lamassery, in the Gobi, 265, at 
 
 Tuerin, 268; of Bogdo, at Urga, 
 
 277, 278. 
 Lao-Kai, 18-20. 
 Lao-pan (boat-captain), the, 213, 
 
 215, 216. 
 Laughter, the universal solvent, 
 
 60. 
 
 LengChi, 115. 
 Lesser Trail, the, 140 ff. 
 Lhasa, road to, 125, 134; 126, 
 
 127, 128, 131, 160, 274, 280. 
 Li Ching Hsi, and the opium 
 
 trade of Yunnan, 26; and the 
 
 Pien-ma question, 30. 
 Li Ping, 167. 
 Li-chou, 86, 87. 
 
 Lime juice, merits of, 240, 241. 
 "Lincoln," 31. 
 Literatus. See Interpreter. 
 Little, Archibald, I 16, 209. 
 
 Liu, chair coolie, 79, 84. 
 
 Liu, cook, from Chung-king, 5; 
 dismissed at Hankow, 224; 38, 
 45. 48, 56, 86, 103, 1 10, 140, 178, 
 188,202,203,211. 
 
 *Liu Sha River, 104. 
 
 Loess country, the, 228. 
 
 Lo-han, 182. 
 
 Lololand, the mysterious, 67, 74, 
 75; neighborhood of, compli- 
 cates travel in the Chien 
 Ch'ang, 75; measures taken by 
 government thereanent, 77; 
 92. 
 
 Lolos, in Yunnan, 50; "tame," 
 75 > 76; their ethnological status 
 a problem, 76, 77; their proper 
 appellation uncertain, 76, 77; 
 89, 90, 91, 92, 98, 189. 
 
 Losus, in Yunnan, 50. 
 
 Lu-Ting Ch'iao, bridge at, the 
 only connecting link between 
 China and Tibet, 116, 117; 115, 
 139, 142, 145, 161. 
 
 Lu-Han R.R., 225, 227, 228. 
 
 Lu-ku, 88. 
 
 Lung-kai, scanty accommoda- 
 tions at, 63; 101, 206. 
 
 Ma-An Shan Pass, 145, 154. 
 
 Ma-fu (horse-boy), 48, 157, 161, 
 164, 165. 
 
 Mai-ma-chin, one of the three 
 cities in Urga, 275, 276; the 
 Chinese trading settlement, 
 276. 
 
 Mai-ma-chin, on the Siberian 
 frontier, 302. 
 
 Manchu rule, its anti-opium pol- 
 icy one of the causes of its over- 
 throw, 26. 
 
 Manchuria, 55, 236. 
 
 Manchus, downfall of, and the 
 Six-Power loan of 1908, 226.
 
 \ 
 
 332 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Mandarin language, some form 
 of, spoken by five sixths of the 
 people of China, 317. 
 
 Mandarin Road, the, 104 jf. 
 
 Manners, in China, 129. . 
 
 Mekong River, 71. 
 
 Mencius, quoted, 312. 
 
 "Mercury," coolie, 107. 
 
 Miaos, in Yunnan, 50. 
 
 Mien-ning, 89. 
 
 Military schools, in Yunnan, 28. 
 
 Military spirit, in Yunnan, 27. 
 
 Min River, travelling on, 202 ff.; 
 name unknown to the Chinese, 
 203; native names for, 203; 
 scenery on, 203, 204; 64, 73, 
 178, 1 80. 
 
 Ming dynasty, fall of, 171. 
 
 Ming Shan (mountain), famous 
 for tea, 163. 
 
 Ming Shan-hsien, 163. 
 
 Missionaries, at Ya-chou, 158; 
 status of, in China, 158, 159; at 
 Chengtu, 174; at Chung- king, 
 208. 
 
 Mohammedan rebellion, 50, 54. 
 
 Mohammedans in Yunnan, 50. 
 
 Monasteries on Omei Shan, pic- 
 turesque names of, 193. 
 
 Monastery of Ten Thousand 
 Years. See Wan-nien Ssu. 
 
 Monastery of the Voice of the 
 Waters, 182. 
 
 Money, arrangements for, 37, 38; 
 Yunnan dollars, 37; Szechuan 
 coins, 37; Hupeh money, 37, 
 38; difficulties concerning, 97, 
 98; for the Mongolian journey, 
 241. 
 
 Mongol city, in Urga, 277. 
 
 Mongolia, and China, meet at 
 Kalgan, 235; prospective at- 
 tractions of, 236, 237 ; preparing 
 for travelling in, 2^7 ff.; stores, 
 
 240, 242, 243; money, 241; on 
 the road from Kalgan, 243 ff . ; 
 the " Camel Road " chosen, 245 ; 
 exports of, mostly animals, 245; 
 post-routes across, 245, 246; 
 Russian influence in, 246; first 
 impressions of, 247; the grass- 
 land, 247 ff., 259; inns in, 248; 
 tents or huts ("yurts") in, 248- 
 250; " the unchanging East," 
 248; the women and children of, 
 250, 251, 260, 261; topographi- 
 cal description of, 251, 252; 
 population of, 253; government 
 of, 253; opium habit in, 255; 
 wives come high in, 261; Chi- 
 nese unwelcome aliens in, 276; 
 lamaism in, 279, 280. And see 
 Gobi Desert and Mongolia, 
 Northern. 
 
 Mongolia, Northern, rainy season 
 in, 270-272; trade of, controlled 
 by Chinese of Mai-ma-chin, 276; 
 extension of Russian influence 
 in, 284, 285; railway connection 
 would be advantageous to, 285; 
 hold of Chinese Government 
 on, insecure, 285, 286; coloniza- 
 tion of, by Chinese, 285, 286. 
 
 Mongolian plateau, the, 247 ff. 
 
 Mongolian Road, 244. 
 
 Mongolian tents. See Tents. 
 
 Mongolian women. See Women, 
 Mongolian. 
 
 Mongols, material position of, 
 253, lazy, 254; their herds, 254; 
 neither manufacturers nor till- 
 ers of the soil, 254; as tea-drink- 
 ers, 254; great endurance of, 
 254; intemperate, 254, 255, 
 260; fine horsemen, 255; degen- 
 erate sons of a conquering race, 
 255; oppressed by Chinese, not 
 by China, 260; eye-diseases of,
 
 INDEX 
 
 333 
 
 265; effect of lamaism on, 282; 
 prefer Russians to Chinese, 285 ; 
 not China, but civilization is 
 driving them to the wall, 296, 
 297. 
 
 Mongols, of the author's Mon- 
 golian expedition, 257, 258, 
 265. 
 
 Mongols, Northern, 268, 270. 
 
 Monks, of Burma, their Budd- 
 hism, 282. 
 
 Morrison, George B., 237, 238. 
 
 Moscow, 236. 
 
 Namti River, 18, 21 ; valley of, 15, 
 
 21. 
 
 Nan River, 165. 
 Nanking, as the possible capital 
 
 of China, 229; 159, 226. 
 Nankow, 233, 234. 
 Nankow, Pass of, 228. 
 Napoleon III, 8. 
 Ni T'ou, in, 121. 
 Nicholas II, Tsar, 306. 
 Nicolai, 292, 295. 
 Ning-yiian-fu, 33, 34, 37, 71, 74, 
 
 75, 80-82, 83, 85, 86, 178. 
 
 Omei (town), and its pilgrims, 
 
 185; its shops, 1 86. 
 Omei, Mount. See Omei Shan. 
 Omei River, 184, 187. 
 Omei Shan, the holy of holies, 180; 
 
 ascent of, 187 ff.; myths and 
 
 legends concerning, 188, 189; 
 
 monasteries on, 190, 193, 194; 
 
 memories of a three days' stay 
 
 on the summit of, 194-199; 
 
 wherein its charm consists, 198, 
 
 199, 280. 
 Opium habit, among coolies, 107, 
 
 108; rare in Mongolia, 255. 
 Opium trade, in Yunnan, 25, 26; 
 
 Manchu government adverse 
 
 to, 26. 
 
 Pai-chang, hiring a pony at, 163- 
 165. 
 
 Pai-la shu (white- wax tree), 73. 
 
 Pailou (memorial arch), 104, 105. 
 
 Palm-leaf hats, 19, 20. 
 
 Pao-an-ying, 95. 
 
 Paper, substitute for glass in 
 West China, 40. 
 
 Passports, lack of, n; not re- 
 quired within Chinese Empire, 
 212; for Mongolia, 237. 
 
 Pechihli, Gulf of, 228. 
 
 Peking, arrival at, 228; situation 
 of, 228, 229; the Tartar Wall, 
 229 ff.; the divers cities of, 230; 
 viewed from the Wall, 231, 232; 
 the American Legation, 232; 
 the streets, 232; to the average 
 European its history begins in 
 1900, 233; preparing for Mon- 
 golian journey at, 237 /.; 24, 
 163, 176, 222, 223, 280. 
 
 Peking cart, an instrument of tor- 
 ture, 243, 244. 
 
 Peking railway, the. See Lu-Han 
 R.R. 
 
 People's Assembly, the, 230. 
 
 Photographing, in Szechuan, 156. 
 
 Pien-ma boundary question, 29, 
 30. 
 
 Pilgrim to Lhasa, the, 112. 
 
 Pilgrims to Omei Shan, 185, 187, 
 189, 193, 195- 
 
 P'ing-i-p'u, 98, 99. 
 
 Polo, Marco, 74, 81, 124, 171, 172, 
 230, 244, 248, 250. 
 
 Pongkiong, 260. 
 
 Ponies, Yunnanese, 34, 35. 
 
 Poppies, not now cultivated in 
 Yunnan, 26; banished from 
 Chien Ch'ang, 72, 94. 
 
 "Pork money," 36, 96, 97. 
 
 Post-routes, between Kalgan and 
 Siberian frontier, 245, 246.
 
 334 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Praying-Stones, 138. 
 Precious Stone Castle, 214. 
 Protestant missions in China, 
 
 achievement of, 158, 159. 
 P'u-chi, 53. 
 P'u-hsien Bodhisattva, 189, 190, 
 
 191. 
 P'u Yi, the baby Emperor, and 
 
 the new government, 231. 
 Purple City, the, in Peking, 230. 
 
 Queue, the, 43. 
 
 Railway, projected by Chinese 
 Government, 15, 16. 
 
 Railways in China, history of, 
 225, 226; the Kalgan-Peking 
 line the first one built by Chi- 
 nese, 234. 
 
 Rainy season, the, in No. Mon- 
 golia, 270-272. 
 
 Rats, 21. 
 
 Red lama, the, 258, 265. 
 
 Red River R.R., from Hanoi to 
 Yunnan-fu, 14-23; no night 
 traffic on, 14; accommodations 
 on, 14; a remarkable undertak- 
 ing, 14, 15; engineering difficul- 
 ties of, 15; rates on, excessive, 
 
 15; 4- 
 
 Reeves, Captain, 237. 
 Reform movement, in Yunnan, 
 
 27. 
 "Relay," the. See Mongolian 
 
 Road. 
 Religion, in India, 310; in China, 
 
 SIX. 
 Religions, great diversity of, in 
 
 Yunnan, 50. 
 Revolution, Chinese, effect of, on 
 
 railway project, 16; 27,28, 125, 
 
 177, 2OI, 222. 
 
 Richthofen, Baron von, 106, 165, 
 166. 
 
 Rivers of Sand. See Sha Ho. 
 
 Rockhill, Mr. W. W., American 
 explorer and diplomat, 112. 
 
 Roman Catholic missions in 
 China, 158. 
 
 Roman Catholic missionaries at 
 Chengtu, 174. 
 
 Rosthorn, A. de, his Tea Culti- 
 vation in Szechuan, 163. 
 
 Russia, and the Mongolian postal 
 service, 246; her policy of 
 "peaceful penetration," 246; 
 extension of her influence in 
 No. Mongolia, 284, 285. 
 
 Russian Consulate at Urga, 277, 
 278. 
 
 Russian frontier. See Siberian 
 frontier. 
 
 Russian settlement in Urga, 277, 
 291. 
 
 Russians, in Urga, 284. 
 
 Russo- Asiatic Bank (Urga), 241, 
 277, 284. 
 
 Sacred City, the. See Urga. 
 
 Sal ween River, 71. 
 
 Sandals, 43, 44. 
 
 " Second Gentleman," the (son of 
 
 Li Ping), 167. 
 Sedan-chair, method of travelling 
 
 in, described, 34. 
 Sha Ho, 252. 
 Sha Shen Ho, 244. 
 Shamo. See Gobi Desert. 
 Shanghai, 4, 222, 225, 226. 
 Shans, in Yunnan, 50. 
 Shantung, 236. 
 Shields, Dr., 158. 
 Shields, Mrs., 158. 
 Shih Ta-k'ai, Taiping leader, 89, 
 
 99- 
 
 Shyok River, 60. 
 Si Kiang, the, 29. 
 Siberian frontier, post-routes from
 
 INDEX 
 
 335 
 
 Kalgan to, 245, 246; arrival at, 
 
 301-303. 
 
 Siberian Railway, 236, 306, 307. 
 Sikiang, the, river steamer, from 
 
 Hong Kong to Haiphong on, 
 
 5-11- 
 
 Sinden-fu, Marco Polo's name for 
 Chengtu, 171. 
 
 Singapore, Chinese Consul-Gen- 
 eral at, his mourning, 88. 
 
 Six-Power Loanof 1908, proved the 
 undoing of the Manchus, 226. 
 
 Soap, in Mongolia, 261, 262. 
 
 Soothill, Dr., 159. 
 
 "Squeeze," the, 96, 97. 
 
 Standard Oil Co., and the white- 
 wax industry, 73; 85. 
 
 Standard Oil tins, use of, in Mon- 
 golia, 250. 
 
 Stevenson, Owen, missionary, 33, 
 
 4L 53- 
 
 Siichi, 184. 
 
 Sugar, a great delicacy in Mon- 
 golia, 301. 
 
 Suifu, 64, 75, 203, 206. 
 
 Sung-lin, inn at, 87. 
 
 Szechuan province, natives of , 51 ; 
 travelling in, 63 ff.; the Cloud 
 Mountains, 64; private school 
 in, 67, 68; condition of people 
 in, 68; western boundary of, 
 124; beginning of its later his- 
 tory, 171, 172; viceroy of, 172; 
 Railway League of, and the 
 revolution, 177; "chuman" 
 pagodas of, 204; the river the 
 sole highway to, 219; future of, 
 219, 220; 5, 26, 37, 39, 55. 
 
 Szechuan dogs, and the sun, 64. 
 
 Szechuan money, 37. 
 
 Szechuan road, the, 217, 218. 
 
 Ta Ho, 235. 
 
 Ta Fo Rapid, 181. 
 
 Ta Huren, the Mongol city of 
 Urga, 277, 286-288; alien ele- 
 ments in, 287, 288; 291. 
 
 Ta Liang Shan (Lololand), 74, 75, 
 92. 
 
 Ta Shueh Shan, 117. 
 
 Ta Tu Ho, the limit of direct 
 Chinese administration, 124; 
 its only bridge, 116, 117, 139; 
 its change of name, 118, 119; 
 42, 89, 99, 101, 143, 161, 180, 
 181, 182, 184; valley of, 114, 
 115, 144, 145. 
 
 Tachienlu, sui generis, 123; situ- 
 ation of, 123; China and Tibet 
 meet in, 123; in the grip of 
 lamaism, 124; principality of 
 King of Chala, 125; govern- 
 ment of, 125; key to the west- 
 ern country, 125; meeting Capt. 
 Bailey at, 126 ff.\ postal ar- 
 rangements at, 128; the people 
 the most interesting feature of, 
 130, 131; practically all China- 
 Tibet traffic passes through, 
 132. I 335 visit to a temple at, 
 136-138; priests of, 138; 105, 
 106, no, 119, 141, 160, 248. 
 
 Tailless dog, hunt for the, 205. 
 
 Taiping rebellion, the, 89, 99. 
 
 Ta-kiang, the Min sometimes so- 
 called, 203. 
 
 Taoism, 317. 
 
 Tar Ho, 123. 
 
 Tarantass, travelling in a, 289- 
 304- 
 
 Tarchendo River, 118, 119, 120, 
 123, 141, 142; valley of, 119, 
 120, 121. 
 
 Tartar City, the, in Peking, 230. 
 
 Tartar Wall, the, at Peking, 
 229 /. 
 
 Tashi Lama, the, 277. 
 
 Ta-shu-p'u, unique instance of
 
 336 
 
 INDEX 
 
 native unfriendliness at, 99, 
 100; ioi, 105. 
 
 Tchagan Hou, 269, 271,274, 289. 
 
 Tea, on the Mandarin Road, 105 
 ff.; heavy loads of carriers of, 
 105; of Ming Shan, 163. And 
 see Brick tea. 
 
 Tea, Szechuan, 159. 
 
 Tea-houses, on the Mandarin 
 Road, 108, 109; 44. 
 
 Temple of Heaven, the, 230, 231. 
 
 Temples, Chinese, generally un- 
 interesting, 32. 
 
 Teng-hsiang-ying, 89, 90, 92. 
 
 Tents, in Mongolia, described by 
 Marco Polo and by Abbe Hue, 
 248-250. 
 
 Tibet, and China, meet in Ta- 
 chienlu, 123; frontier of, 124; 
 relations with China, how af- 
 fected by Chinese revolution, 
 l25;Chinese conquest of, 125, 
 126. 
 
 Tibet, Western, adventure in, 60. 
 
 Tibetan Mountains, 92, 123, 162. 
 
 Tibetans, consume vast quanti- 
 ties of brick-tea, 105, 160; in 
 Tachienlu, 124, 131, 134; de- 
 fended by Captain Bailey, 132; 
 in Omei, 190; and Mongols, 
 248; effect of lamaism on, 282. 
 
 Tien-chiian-chou, approach to, 
 
 153, 154; 155- 
 Tien-Shan, 251. 
 Tientsin, 257, 279. 
 Tobacco, use of, universal, 66, 67. 
 Tola River, 274, 275, 276. 
 Tommy Atkins, in India, and the 
 
 vernacular, 20. 
 Tonking, under Doumer, 911; 
 
 its value as the key to China, 
 
 10. 
 Tonking-Yunnan R.R. See Red 
 
 River R.R. 
 
 "Trackers" on the Yangtse, 215, 
 
 216, 218, 219. 
 Travellers on Red River R.R., 16, 
 
 17- 
 
 Tso-ling Ho, 62. 
 Tsungli Yamen, 229. 
 Tuan Fang, 226, 227. 
 Tuerin, 268, 269. 
 
 Urga, the Sacred City, approach 
 to, 273, 274; first sight of, 274; 
 arrival at, 275; three cities in 
 one, 276, 277; Chinese govern- 
 ment of, 277; described, 277; 
 worship of Bogdo in, 277; pil- 
 grimages to, 278; a wealthy 
 Mongol household in, 282-284; 
 railway prospects of, 285; diffi- 
 cult departure from, 289-291; 
 6, 29, 238, 239, 240, 241, 243, 
 244, 245, 252, 253, 257, 304. 
 
 Vegetables, washing, in China, 
 206; fresh, for Mongolian jour- 
 ney, 242. 
 
 Verchneudinsk, 304, 305, 306, 307. 
 
 Villages, in Yunnan, 45. 
 
 Wa Ssu Kou, 118, 119, 141, 142. 
 
 Wagons Lits, H6tel des, at Peking, 
 228. 
 
 Wai-wu-pu, the, 237, 243. 
 
 Wang, interpreter, cook, and 
 general factotum, for the Mon- 
 golian journey, 237, 241, 242, 
 257, 262, 269, 275, 289, 290, 
 291, 294, 297, 299. 
 
 Wan-hsien, 177, 214, 219. 
 
 Wan-nien Ssu, 190, 191. 
 
 Water, a serious problem in the 
 Gobi Desert, 264. 
 
 Water Gate (Peking), 229. 
 
 Wellwood, Mr., missionary, 81. 
 84.
 
 INDEX 
 
 337 
 
 Wellwood, Mrs., 178. 
 
 Wells, in Gobi Desert, 252, 264. 
 
 West, the, zeal of, mars as well as 
 
 mends, 129. 
 West China, former ways of 
 
 reaching, 3; now simplified by 
 
 French enterprise, 3. 
 West River valley, 16. 
 White Emperor's Temple, the, 
 
 217. 
 
 White Tsar, the, 246. 
 White- wax industry, the, 72, 73; 
 
 wrecked by Standard Oil Co., 
 
 73- 
 Wild life, in the Gobi Desert, 262, 
 
 263. 
 
 Windbox Gorge, 216. 
 "Wine money," 83, 84. 
 Wives, come high in Mongolia, 
 
 261; their status, 261. 
 Wolves, Mongolian, 262, 263. 
 Women, Chinese, qualities of, 86. 
 Women, Mongolian, their vanity, 
 
 261, 262; their dress, 270, 271; 
 
 250, 251. 
 Woosung, 225. 
 Wuchang, provincial capital of 
 
 Hupeh, 222. See Hankow. 
 Wu-pan (boat), down the Min 
 
 and Yangtse in, 202 Jf. 
 Wu-ting-chou, 57-60. 
 
 Ya Ho, difficult navigation of, 
 161; scenery on, 161, 162; 152, 
 154, 1 80, 184; valley of, 157. 
 
 Ya-chou, 105, 106, 139, 140, 155, 
 *57 158, 159, 161, 166, 207. 
 
 Yalung River, 67, 71. 
 
 Yang, Mr., 211. 
 
 Yangtse River, crossing, 63; its 
 swift current, 63, 64; the " River 
 of Golden Sand," 64; at Suifu, 
 206; travelling on, 206 ff.\ 
 gorges of, 218; at Ichang, 221; 
 
 and Han, three cities at junc- 
 tion of, 222; contrast between, 
 and the Hoang, 228; 3, 37, 42, 
 42, 71, 116, 163, 165. And see 
 Min River. 
 
 Yellow Emperor, the, 189, 
 
 Yellow River. See Hoang. 
 
 "Young Ladies." See Annamese 
 Tirailleurs. 
 
 Younghusband expedition to 
 Lhasa, 126. 
 
 Yuan Shih Kai, 227. 
 
 Yuan-pu, the, 192. 
 
 Yiieh-hsi, 94. 
 
 Yun Bay, 16. 
 
 Yunnan, province of, effects of 
 Mohammedan rebellion in, 27; 
 the railway brings new life to, 
 27; the Reform movement in, 
 27, 28; new military spirit in, 
 27, 28; significance of adhesion 
 to western ideas, 27, 28; dread 
 of foreign interference in, 28, 
 29; French encroachments in, 
 29 ; French consulate in, 29; 
 government projects of rail- 
 ways in, 29; Bureau of Foreign 
 Affairs and its chief, 30, 31, 38; 
 travelling across, 42 ff. ; mean- 
 ing of the name, 49; a "land of 
 sunshine," 49; varied inhabi- 
 tants of, 49, 50; conquest of, by 
 Kublai Khan, 50 ; proportion 
 of tribes in population of, 50; 
 ethnological map of, a wonder- 
 ful patchwork, 50; variety of 
 religions in, 50; a fine field for 
 civil discord, 50; natives of, 51 ; 
 hill- roads in, 52; travelling 
 among the mountains in, 54 ff.; 
 estimated population of, 55; 3, 
 
 9.22. 
 
 Yunnan dollars, 37. 
 Yunnan pony, 102.
 
 338 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Yunnan-fu, from Haiphong to, 
 by rail, 13, 14; approach to, 21, 
 22; its picturesque situation, 
 23 ; its climate, 23 ; an unattrac- 
 tive city, 24; its lake, 24, 25; 
 famous for its metal work, 25; 
 
 26; military school in, 28; 
 French predominance in, 29; a 
 native official hostess at, 31; 
 excursions from, 32; hiring 
 coolies at, 33-35, 36; departure 
 from, 41, 42; 3, 21. 
 
 opium trade banished from, 25, Yurts (Mongolian huts), 248, 249.
 
 ffibe fifcetfibe 
 
 CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 U . S . A
 
 A 000019959