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 A MEMORIAL ARCH. 
 
 Sprague, photo.
 
 ^ / 
 
 FROM W^ESTERN CHINA TO THE 
 GOLDEN GATE 
 
 THE 
 
 EXPERIENCES OF AN AMERICAN UNIVERSITY 
 
 GRADUATE IN THE ORIENT 
 
 WITH THIRTY ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 '2.1 ^7 2 
 
 By- 
 
 ROGER SPRAGUE 
 
 BERKELEY 
 
 LEDERER, STREET & ZEUS CO. 
 
 1911
 
 COPYRIGHT 1911 
 BY ROGER SPRAGUE 
 
 FOR SALE BY THE GLESSNER- MORSE CO. 
 
 2163 SHATTUCK AVE.. BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRICE, POSTPAID, 85 CENTS
 
 'I U 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 FROM WESTERN CHINA TO THE GOLDEN GATE 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. THE PLACE FROM WHICH THE START 
 
 WAS MADE 7 
 
 II. THE START 15 
 
 III. WESTERN CHINA SCENERY 19 
 
 IV. TRAVELLING BY RAFT 28 
 
 V. MT. OMEI AND THE GREAT BUDDHA.... 35 
 
 VI. THE LONELY MISSION STATION."^ 43 
 
 VII. INTERESTING SIGHTS 50 
 
 VIII. A CHINESE INN CJ .* 57 
 
 IX. DOWN THE RIVER 69 
 
 X. LIES TOLD TO TRAVELLERS, .i. 77 
 
 XL' FROM SHANGHAI TO SAN FRANCISCO... 83 
 
 RECENT AND RADICAL CHANGES 9^ 
 
 POSTSCRIPT 127
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 
 1. A MEMORIAL ARCH Frontispiece 
 
 2. IN THE PROVINCIAL COLLEGE 9 
 
 3. A STREAM IN CHENTU 11 
 
 4. SOUTH GATE BRIDGE, CHENTU 13 
 
 5. SEDAN CHAIR 17 
 
 6. A CHINESE FARM HOUSE 21 
 
 7. ON THE CHENTU PLAIN 23 
 
 8. RICE FIELDS 25 
 
 9. PAGODA AT LOY KIANG 26 
 
 10. BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF YAH JO 29 
 
 11. TEMPLE IN KIATING 33 
 
 12. THE GREAT BUDDHA 39 
 
 13. THE GREAT STONE FACE 41 
 
 14. THE LONELY MISSION STATION 45 
 
 15. ENTRANCE TO A GUILD HALL, ZID-ZO 47 
 
 16. AT A CONFUCIAN TEMPLE 48 
 
 17. MEMORIAL ARCH ERECTED IN 1902 52, 
 
 18. CARVING ON THE ARCH . . 53 
 
 19. A COVERED BRIDGE 59 
 
 20. JUNK SAILING UP THE GORGES 74 
 
 21. AMERICAN HOSPITAL, CHUNGKING 76 
 
 22. ON THE BUND AT SHANGHAI • 85 
 
 23. PAGODA AT DAY YANG 95 
 
 24. A TEMPLE NEAR CHENTU 98 
 
 25. A BRIDGE IN THE TEMPLE GROUNDS 102 
 
 26. THE TEMPLE STAIRS 108 
 
 27. INCENSE BURNER 112 
 
 28. SERVANT AND POLICEMAN 116 
 
 29. A COUNTRY HOME 120 
 
 30. A SHADY LANE 124
 
 FROM WESTERN CHINvV TO THE GOLDEN 
 
 GATE. 
 
 ^/ 373 
 THE PLACE FROM WHICH THE START W^\S 
 
 MADE 
 
 In making the following journey, the writer 
 returned to America from a region in full view 
 of the immense snowy peaks of Thibet. He 
 first travelled by sedan chair, carried on men's 
 shoulders; next, by bamboo raft, shooting tem- 
 pestuous rapids where the water roared and 
 dashed over cruel black rocks ranged on either 
 ^ hand; then, by native junks both large and 
 ^ small; next, by a small Japanese river steamer; 
 '^ next, by a large Japanese river steamer; and 
 ^ finally, by an immense Japanese ocean liner of 
 21,000 tons displacement, twenty-two knots 
 speed. Many and varied were the experiences 
 by the way, of which the following rapid sum- 
 mary will give some slight idea. In telling the 
 story, the writer has been impelled by the notion 
 that, since in these days American schoolmen 
 are frequently called to China to teach in the
 
 8 
 
 government schools, the experiences of such a 
 man while returning from his post at a point 
 far in the interior of that country, would be of 
 interest to the general public. 
 
 I wish to transport you to a remote point in 
 the west of China, the great city of Chentu; a 
 city so far removed from the United States that 
 when it is noon in New York, it is within eight 
 minutes of midnight there. For while New 
 York is seventy-four degrees west from. Green- 
 wich, Chentu is one hundred and four degrees 
 east, so that one hundred and seventy-eight de- 
 grees of longitude intervene; nearly one-half 
 the circuit of the globe. When New York is 
 booming with the rush and clangor of noonday, 
 in Chentu the great iron gates which afford en- 
 trance and exit have long been closed, for they 
 are locked at sunset; the wooden barriers which 
 separate one section of the city from another 
 have been shut for two hours, and the only signs 
 of life are the night-watchmen making their 
 rounds with flickering Chinese lantern and vi- 
 brating gong. 
 
 But I shall not ask you to linger there, for I 
 wish you to accompany me on my return to
 
 IN THE PROVINCIAL COLLEGE. Sprague, photo.
 
 10 
 
 America after a year's residence while engaged 
 in giving instruction in the Chinese government 
 schools. 
 
 At the conclusion of the writer's engagement, 
 it seemed best not to return at once by the 
 quickest means, but to spend a couple of months 
 in further touring that strange country; for it 
 is indeed a strange one. 
 
 In these days of rapid travel and easy com- 
 munication between the nations, we are apt to 
 imagine that our modern methods of transpor- 
 tation have been introduced, to some extent at 
 least, into all the more important portions of 
 the world. We read of railways in Korea, rail- 
 ways in darkest Africa, of another projected 
 from the Cape to Cairo. But, in spite of all, 
 there still remain portions of the earth's sur- 
 face, thickly settled and with an ancient civili- 
 zation, to which our modern methods of trans- 
 portation have not yet penetrated. It is in such 
 a region, located far in the west of China and 
 on the savage borderland of Thibet, that Chen- 
 tu is located; Chentu, the capital of the prov- 
 ince of Four Streams (Szechuen) — the largest 
 and most populous of the eighteen into which
 
 A STREAM IN CHENTU. 
 
 Sprague, photo.
 
 12 
 
 China is divided. A province whose area is 
 larger by 20,000 square miles than that of Cal- 
 ifornia, and contains a population of sixty mil- 
 lions of people, yet which does not possess a 
 single railway nor, outside of the two chief cities, 
 any electric lights or telephones. It is true that 
 it is connected with the outer world by two 
 lines of telegraph, one to the east and the other 
 to the south, but it is equally true that wheeled 
 vehicles, except the wheelbarrow, are almost 
 unknown. The safest, easiest, and most custo- 
 mary method of travel is to ride in a sedan chair 
 carried on men's shoulders. Every city of any 
 importance is surrounded by an immense stone 
 wall faced with the most substantial masonry; 
 such a wall as Palmyra might have possessed 
 in the days of Aurelian. And yet, after all, 
 that country is far more advanced as regards 
 modern civilization than was the western world 
 one hundred years ago. 
 
 Were you to unroll the map of China and 
 locate the city of Chentu, you would find it near 
 the center of the province of which it is the 
 capital, and apparently far from Thibet. As a 
 matter of fact, the great Thibetan highland
 
 13 
 
 SOUTH GATl', 
 
 CHEXTU 
 
 Sprague, Photo. 
 
 commences forty miles northwest of the city; 
 but on the maps the Chinese have extended the 
 provincial boundary out into what is truly 
 Thibet, so as to include all that portion of the 
 latter country in which Chinese officials are sta- 
 tioned. The entire western half of the province 
 is in Thibet, for it is made up of immense moun- 
 tains inhabited by Thibetan tribes rather than
 
 14 
 
 Chinese. The eastern half of the province is 
 the important part, where the great bulk of the 
 population resides; Chinese living in walled 
 cities. 
 
 It is in this province that the headwaters of 
 the Yangtze, the great river of China, issue 
 from the mountains and unite to form the main 
 stream, which constitutes a natural highway 
 from the interior to the eastern provinces and 
 to the coast. Two noble streams sweep past 
 the gates of Chentu, converging and uniting 
 near the southeast angle of the city. As a con- 
 sequence, it is customary for a traveller leaving 
 that city for abroad, to hire a native boat, float 
 down the river a thousand miles through its 
 gorges and over its rapids, issuing from between 
 the walls of the last great gorge into the broad 
 and easy navigable portion of the river; there 
 to continue his journey by steamer for another 
 thousand miles to Shanghai and the sea. Such 
 would have been the writer's course had time 
 been an object. But that was not the case.
 
 15 
 
 II 
 
 THE START 
 
 When an American travels in that country, 
 he goes prepared to cater for himself. The 
 writer's first care, before leaving his comfort- 
 able quarters at the Provincial College, was to 
 engage a servant who was accustomed to cook 
 for foreigners and who could walk long dis- 
 tances. In a place like Chentu, one of the prin- 
 cipal centers for missionary enterprise in China, 
 this was easily accomplished. Then, as I pro- 
 posed to travel by land, a sedan chair carried 
 by three men was next engaged ; also an addi- 
 tional man to carry the bedding and provisions 
 which are packed in large baskets. On the 
 morning of departure, I took my seat in the 
 chair, the poles of which were elevated to the 
 men's shoulders. The carrying coolie came be- 
 hind, the servant brought up the rear, and so 
 the procession moved out. As soon as we had 
 passed outside the city gates, a halt was called 
 at the first eating-house and a representative of
 
 16 
 
 the firm from which the men were hired paid 
 them some advance money. The men at once 
 proceeded to spend a part of it on their morn- 
 ing meal, for it would be strictly against all 
 custom and precedent for them not to start on 
 an empty stomach. Their first meal for the 
 day is always eaten after they have travelled 
 some short distance. 
 
 Their breakfast finished, they request you to 
 take your place in the chair once more; they 
 pick it up and continue on the way for about an 
 hour when they stop to rest for a few minutes 
 at some roadside halting place, for China 
 abounds with such. They smoke their native 
 tobacco, and quite possibly drink tea. For the 
 next hour, perhaps you prefer to walk instead 
 of ride. Indeed, to the writer, it would be most 
 acute misery to sit cramped in the chair all day, 
 nor have the men any objection to carrying it 
 empty. 
 
 In this fashion we journeyed along the road, 
 arriving about noon at a walled city. Here we 
 entered an inn. The chair was set down in the 
 main courtyard while the baskets were carried 
 into the inn's best room, which boasted a board
 
 17 
 
 SEDAN CHAIR. 
 
 Sprague, photo. 
 
 floor instead of the hard-packed clay one fre- 
 quently finds. The provisions were unpacked, 
 eggs and vegetables were purchased if needed, 
 and the servant proceeded to achieve a very 
 creditable, meal, doubly welcome after outdoor 
 exercise. All inns are provided with furnaces 
 for cooking, where a fire is kept up twelve 
 hours in the twenty-four. Meanwhile, the
 
 18 
 
 coolies were eating their rice. After the ser- 
 vant had washed the dishes and repacked the 
 basket, we started again, having been delayed 
 perhaps an hour. About dusk we arrived at 
 another walled city where we went to the best 
 inn for the night. The noon program was re- 
 peated, except that after supper, the bedding 
 was unpacked and arranged on a bedstead. In 
 the morning we started once more on an empty 
 stomach, and, after travelling for an hour or so, 
 stopped for breakfast. Such is the method of 
 travel.
 
 Ill 
 
 WESTERN CHINA SCENERY 
 
 I have frequently been asked, "What is there 
 to see in that country?" Sometimes when we 
 think of those far eastern lands we dream of 
 temples and palaces of gleaming marble glow- 
 ing with oriental splendor, or shrines loaded 
 with gems and heavy with gold. Do not expect 
 to find them in China. India has the former 
 and Russia the latter, but China does not pos- 
 sess them. Nevertheless, there are a thousand 
 other features which make up for their ab- 
 sence. So long as one is out in the country 
 among the fields, travelling by sedan chair in 
 western China is most enjoyable. Even in win- 
 ter, the country presents an agreeable appear- 
 ance, while in summer it is as though one were 
 journeying through a most delightful park. 
 The richness of the verdure and carefulness of 
 cultivation must be seen to be appreciated or 
 believed. Here will be broad, bright-green 
 stretches of rice land, the little dykes by which 
 the fields are divided checkering the landscape
 
 20 
 
 into squares; here will be waving bamboos sur- 
 rounding a farmhouse; here will be a group of 
 grave-mounds, sheltered by tall, funereal pines. 
 By the side of the way, possibly, there will be 
 brilliant, aromatic wild flowers. Here will 
 come a line of great water-buffaloes, and the 
 water-bufifalo is a picturesque animal in spite of 
 all his clumsiness. Then, as you begin to ap- 
 proach some walled city, you will pass under 
 a succession of those noble memorial arches 
 which the Chinese are accustomed to erect in 
 honor of the possessors of the virtues which they 
 love to commemorate. The road leading to the 
 north gate of Chentu has been termed a veri- 
 table Appian Way. For a distance of four 
 miles from the city it is paved with heavy blocks 
 of sandstone, and is in perfect repair, spanned 
 with noble arches and bordered by buildings 
 which become more and more numerous as you 
 approach the gate, until it has all the semblance 
 of a busy city street. Finally you cross a stream 
 one hundred yards broad by a massive bridge, 
 and the lofty wall of the city towering forty 
 feet in the air, crowned with battlements and 
 surmounted by a fort, stands before you.
 
 21 
 
 ^Mfn_^-il^ ... ■ 
 
 
 
 
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 ll 
 
 ■^4;;:.^, 
 
 ^^H 
 
 
 ^^^^1 
 
 
 ^h! 
 
 1^1 
 
 H^^^^^^HH 
 
 
 ^Kt ^bh 
 
 ^t^^H 
 
 i^^^^^H 
 
 
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 Ikh 
 
 ■HHI 
 
 
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 hB 
 
 A FARM HOUSE. 
 
 Spraguc, photo. 
 
 The farmhouses, surrounded by hedges of the 
 tall graceful bamboo and sheltered by shade 
 trees, constitute one of the most picturesque fea- 
 tures of the Chentu plain. But don't try to ap- 
 proach them too closely. Never did the saying, 
 "Distance lends enchantment to the view," ap- 
 ply with greater force than in the case of Chi-
 
 22 
 
 nese farmhouses. And how numerous they are! 
 In the most thickly settled districts, the write; 
 has estimated that the distance from one to the 
 next is not more than two hundred yards. This 
 does not mean that they are ranged along the 
 road at that interval with ten miles of open 
 country behind each, but that, if we took one 
 as a starting point, we could on an average 
 find six others each two hundred yards from the 
 first and with intervals of two hundred yards 
 between them. Of course this statement must 
 not be taken as mathematically precise; never- 
 theless, it is not so very far from the truth. 
 
 This description of the country, so far, ap- 
 plies to the Chentu plain, nor have I exhausted 
 the list of its beauties. Running water, which 
 always enhances the charms of a landscape, 
 abounds. Here we find one of the grandest ir- 
 rigation systems in the world. We read in the 
 records of the past of the irrigated plains of 
 Mesopotamia, but here is a system which dates 
 back two hundred years B. C, and which has 
 been preserved and extended by each succeeding 
 generation, instead of being destroyed. In sum- 
 mer the volume of water issuing from the moun-
 
 23 
 
 ON THE CHENTU PLAIN. 
 
 Sprague, Photo. 
 
 tains is far in excess of all needs, and the whole 
 plain is made musical by the tinkling of brooks, 
 or resounds with the roaring of the larger 
 streams. The trees which the Chinese plant 
 along the banks of the irrigation channels to
 
 24 
 
 preserve them are in full leaf and contribute 
 greatly to the park-like appearance of the coun- 
 try. All that romancers have written or poets 
 have sung of rural beauty seems tame in com- 
 parison with the reality afforded by this earthly 
 paradise. Of course, in case of a person famil- 
 iar with the more highly cultivated portions of 
 England or France, the country might cause no 
 surprise, but to a traveller from the western part 
 of the United States it seems nothing less than 
 marvelous. In California, the land lies idle 
 much of the year, and in the early autumn as the 
 train speeds through some of the richest sec- 
 tions, all signs of vegetation seem to have dis- 
 appeared, and the only life one sees is the scut- 
 tling forms of long-eared jack-rabbits. In the 
 Chentu plain, the soil is never idle from year's 
 end to year's end, and has not been for centuries 
 and centuries. 
 
 But that plain is only a limited area, one hun- 
 dred miles long and fifty miles broad. In most 
 of western China, where it is not mountainous, 
 you travel up hill and down dale, the differ- 
 ence of elevation between hill and dale amount- 
 ing to two hundred or three hundred feet. It
 
 25 
 
 
 
 ■^■. ••'« ^ *■--- 
 
 RICE FIELDS. 
 
 Spraguc, photo. 
 
 has always seemed to the writer that it is in such 
 a district that one can most fully appreciate 
 how completely the earth's surface has been
 
 26 
 
 PAGODA AT LOY KIANG. 
 
 Sprague, photo. 
 
 transformed by the hand of man, in order that 
 it may yield its richest abundance. The hills 
 consist of horizontal layers of rock, outcrop- 
 ping here and there, while between the outcrop- 
 ping edges of the layers are easy slopes. These 
 slopes are all cultivated and planted with such
 
 27 
 
 crops as peas, beans, and sugar cane, while the 
 stream cliannel in every little valley or ravine 
 has been terraced into rice fields. Except the 
 rivers, there is no such thing as a stream in its 
 natural state. For hundreds of miles you may 
 travel through such country. The road will 
 possibly wind down into a little valley and as- 
 cend the hill beyond, only to come out on the 
 edge of a high blufif overlooking some large 
 stream, a tributary of the Yangtze. Imme- 
 diately a beautiful river view is unrolled be- 
 fore you, for the branches of the great river 
 of China flow with a very meandering course 
 and gentle current. Boats will be tracking up 
 stream or rowing down, and the songs of the 
 rowers will float to your ears. The summits 
 of the river bluffs, as well as the lowlands 
 within the meanders, will be clothed in the rich- 
 est green. The gentlest of airs will scarcely suf- 
 fice to fan the cheek, for western China is re- 
 markably free from harsh winds. The whole 
 scene will be idyllic in its charm.
 
 IV 
 
 TRAVELLING BY RAFT 
 
 Travelling through a region which possessed 
 many of the above features, the writer jour- 
 neyed southwest at the rate of thirty miles a 
 day for four days, until he arrived at a city lo- 
 cated on the banks of the river Yah. The prin- 
 cipal reason for visiting this section of the 
 country was to enjoy the descent of the river 
 by bamboo raft, shooting the rapids and wind- 
 ing through its picturesque gorge nearly a thou- 
 sand feet in depth and very narrow, for almost 
 all its navigation is carried on by these primi- 
 tive contrivances, which merit a brief descrip- 
 tion. They are made of long hollow bamboos, 
 four or five inches in diameter, bound side by 
 side and end to end — a single layer, floating half 
 submerged. The forward end is turned up 
 about three feet, and there are four oars, each 
 supported on a short crutch. The length of the 
 raft may vary from seventy to one hundred feet, 
 while its breadth will be about eight feet. Ex-
 
 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF YAH JO 
 
 Sprague, photo.
 
 30 
 
 tending down the middle and nearly the full 
 length will be a platform about three feet broad, 
 raised less than a foot above the bed of the 
 raft. On this the freight is carried. But when 
 a traveller engages a raft, a common Chinese 
 bedstead, a rough wooden afifair, is fastened on 
 the platform, and filled with fresh straw, which 
 is then covered with matting. Strips of bamboo 
 are arched over it, and these are covered with 
 mats which will shed any rain that may fall. 
 After a week's delay spent in visiting the 
 American missionaries, the writer embarked on 
 his raft one dull, chill morning and slipped 
 down the stream. For the first ten miles he 
 was accompanied by two of the missionaries, 
 for the Yah is not only noted for its rafts and 
 rapids but also for its duck shooting. They had 
 sent their servants and horses ahead to meet 
 them at an appointed spot, and when we reached 
 it the raft was brought to the bank and my com- 
 panions departed carrying fifteen ducks as the 
 result of their marksmanship. There are no 
 game laws in China, and the missionaries fre- 
 quently resort to this river for the sport it af- 
 fords. There are always plenty of birds, for
 
 31 
 
 they are never molested by the Chinese, who are 
 favored with the same paternal form of gov- 
 ernment that the United States has given to the 
 Filipinos. The people are not permitted to 
 own firearms, consequently all the duck shoot- 
 ing is done by foreigners. 
 
 In summer, the descent of the Yah from the 
 place at which the writer embarked to the 
 point at which it joins the river Min, of which 
 it is a branch, can be made in eight hours, for 
 that is the season of high water, and the current 
 is correspondingly swift. But the writer travel- 
 led in January, and consequently tw^o full days 
 were required. The first day the river was a suc- 
 cession of quiet stretches, where the raft floated 
 gently along, sometimes urged by the oars, al- 
 ternating with roaring rapids. The sound will 
 be heard for some time before the rapids are 
 reached. The current will gradually gain in 
 velocity, and finally you are at the brink and 
 down you go, "shooting the chutes" in most ex- 
 hilarating fashion. It is from below that a 
 rapid can be best appreciated. You look back 
 and see the water coming down a short steep 
 incline of very perceptible grade. If another
 
 32 
 
 raft is following, it is most interesting to see 
 it approach the edge of the incline and come 
 sliding down. But how about the rafts which 
 are being towed up stream? Is it possible for 
 them to be hauled by main strength up such 
 places? No, indeed! A narrow channel, or 
 several such in some cases, is cut through the 
 shingle, and water from the main stream turned 
 into it. The channel leads around the rapid 
 and is just deep enough (about three inches) 
 to float a raft with much bumping and scraping. 
 It is through these narrow channels that the rafts 
 are led around the rapids. When approaching 
 the great gorge of the Yah, we took advantage 
 of such a channel to avoid a portion of the 
 stream which is especially difficult. Although 
 our raft only drew about three inches of water, 
 the pebbles were rattling and scraping beneath 
 us the whole way. 
 
 In the quiet reaches of the river, one may 
 walk about one's raft dry-shod. When going 
 through a rapid, one stands on the central plat- 
 form, or, if it is especially tempestuous, sits on 
 the bed with one's feet tailor-wise, while the
 
 TEMPLE IN KIATING. 
 
 Sprague, Photo.
 
 34 
 
 water spouts up between the bamboos and rolls 
 in from either side. 
 
 We reached the gorge on the afternoon of the 
 first day. While the immense gorges of the 
 Yangtze are far more celebrated than that of 
 the river Yah, and altogether eclipse it as re- 
 gards size, yet, in the writer's opinion, the latter 
 is much more picturesque, for its walls are tap- 
 estried and garlanded with trailing vines and 
 semi-tropical plants, which soften their harsh- 
 ness and beautify them as only a luxuriant vege- 
 tation can. If such was the impression received 
 during the winter, the dry season, when nature 
 is at her poorest, how delightful must be the 
 scene in summer when all is at its best! 
 
 In such fashion, we drifted down the stream, 
 the current becoming slower and the scenery 
 more prosaic the further we went until, late on 
 the second evening, we drew up beneath the 
 walls of the city of Kiating. We disembarked 
 and made our way within the gate to a large 
 inn, where the writer remained for a few days.
 
 35 
 
 MT. OMET AND THE GREAT RUDDTTA 
 
 During the delay, the writer visited the base 
 of China's sacred mountain — Omei — which 
 springs abruptly from the plain one day's jour- 
 ney west of the city, and rears its noble crest ten 
 thousand feet above the level of the surrounding 
 country. As it was winter, no attempt was made 
 to ascend. The following account of the moun- 
 tain was obtained from one of the resident mis- 
 sionaries at Kiating. 
 
 "Mount Omei — one day's journey to the west 
 of the city" — he said, "is becoming quite a for- 
 eigners' summer resort. Some sixty mission- 
 aries spent a portion of last summer there. As yet 
 most of them reside in rooms in some of the in- 
 numerable temples that dot the mountain. A 
 few bungalows have been built, and steps are 
 being taken for several more. 
 
 "It is a most interesting old mountain. Every 
 year come thousands of pilgrims to worship 
 there, for it is the Buddhist's Mecca of China.
 
 d>6 
 
 In the winter some of the tribes-people come, 
 and also the Thibetan pilgrims. The trip to the 
 highest point of the mountain — called the 
 Golden Summit — is of interest to more than 
 the religious pilgrim. More beautiful scenery 
 it would be hard to find. And when one ac- 
 tually reaches the summit, words fail one to de- 
 scribe what — if the weather be favorable — is re- 
 vealed to the eye. A pair of Chinese scrolls an- 
 nounce 'To the East behold a sea of clouds, to 
 the West the mountains of snow.' And these 
 same clouds — ever moving, tossing, changing — 
 present a panorama apt in its comparison to the 
 rolling sea. But sometimes the clouds lift, and 
 then a sheer clifif drops a mile or more to the 
 lower hills, and beyond that stretches the swell- 
 ing Omei plain. Kiatingfu seems right at our 
 feet, and on the clearer days the Chentu plain 
 beyond is clearly visible. 
 
 "The snow mountains to the west are those of 
 Thibet. There is a whole range of them extend- 
 ing several hundred miles in length. One noble 
 peak towers above all the others. It is one of 
 the world's high mountain peaks, being about 
 25,000 feet above the sea. What the pilgrims
 
 37 
 
 long most to see is Buddha's Glory and the 
 Spirit-lamps. The former is a rainbow circle 
 which, under certain atmospheric conditions, 
 appears over the clifif. The latter seem to be 
 some form of phosphorescent lights that, on 
 some nights, appear in great numbers on the 
 valley. Most travellers who have visited the 
 Golden Summit have agreed that it is one of 
 the most interesting and wonderful places in 
 the world." 
 
 Another of the sights of Kiating is the ruin 
 of an immense image of Buddha. Twelve 
 hundred years ago a niche two or three hun- 
 dred feet high was cut in a clifif which 
 stands by the side of the river. The recess ex- 
 tended the full height of the clifif and in it was 
 carved an immense image. Unprotected from 
 the elements and neglected by the people, time 
 has done its work, and all that is left consists 
 of a few vestiges of the face. The entire niche 
 is overgrown with brush, and vegetation hangs 
 from the image so as to give it the appear- 
 ance of possessing eyebrows and mustache. 
 Standing on the opposite bank of the river, you 
 can dimly trace the outline of a face; that is all.
 
 38 
 
 But while this old relic is a disappointment, 
 there is another coUosal image of Buddha in 
 west China which is preserved in all its glory, 
 and which has never been described in any book 
 in the English language. Baberj the English 
 traveller, mentions having heard a rumor of its 
 existence. He was told that a hill had been 
 hewn into a seated image of Buddha "several 
 hundred feet high, which far overtops the roofs 
 of surrounding temples." 
 
 Inspired by the ambition to locate and pho- 
 tograph so remarkable a piece of work, the 
 writer journeyed to the spot, the location of 
 which he was able to surmis'e after some adroit 
 questioning. How much time was required to 
 get there, and what the distance and direction, 
 will not be divulged. Great difficulty was en- 
 countered in getting men to carry, and most of 
 the distance had to be walked, but finally the 
 spot was reached. There the great idol was in 
 all his dignity; not nearly so large as rumor 
 had made him out, but a Colossus still. The 
 upper half of the hill-side consists of a sand- 
 stone clifif, and in this a niche fifty feet broad 
 has been cut, leaving a central core of stone.
 
 
 THE GREAT BUDDHA. 
 
 Sprague, Photo.
 
 40 
 
 which was then carved into a figure seated in 
 European style, not cross-legged as Buddha is 
 so often represented. The writer measured the 
 breadth of the opening and, using that as a unit 
 of measurement on the photograph, the height 
 of the image is not less than one hundred feet, 
 that of the hill not less than two hundred. As 
 the camera was pointing upward at a small 
 angle, the vertical measurements must be 
 greater than the figures given. 
 
 The reader will observe by glancing at the 
 picture that a series of five tiled roofs, descend- 
 ing like a flight of steps, have been built before 
 the image to protect it from the weather, so 
 that only the face can be seen from without. 
 But by going within, the location of the feet 
 can be determined; they are on a level with the 
 space between the two lowest roofs. You will 
 also see a white-fronted structure below and to 
 the right; it is a temple, and another temple 
 crowns the height. As the writer and his men 
 came in sight of the Great Buddha, we halted 
 and rested from our journey at a point near one 
 of the gates to the walled city which lies in the 
 valley below. As our eyes turned to the great
 
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 THE GREAT STONE FACE. Sprague, photo. 
 
 face, which has been gilded until it shines like 
 metal; as the immense size and perfect preser- 
 vation of the idol made their impression, the 
 thought that came to my mind was "How far 
 more marvelous is this than many of the w^orld's 
 boasted wonders." I thought of the Colossi at 
 Thebes and the Sphinx. What are they?
 
 42 
 
 Scarred, ruined and defaced by the hand of 
 man and the effects of time, they are scarcely 
 recognizable as images. They are little better 
 than lumps of battered rock. But far in the 
 west of China sits this old Buddha, remote 
 from the tracks of travel, unnoticed and almost 
 unknown; yet greater in size than the Egyptian 
 Colossi, his proportions preserved in all their 
 pristine freshness, temples above and below 
 him, and priests in attendance to keep the in- 
 cense burning at his feet.. There he sits gazing 
 grimly out over the tiled roofs of the city 
 which lies before him. 
 
 While exploring the temple, I asked one of 
 the priests the age of the image. His answer 
 came, "Gee chien nien. Some thousands of 
 years." I give it for what it is worth.
 
 43 
 
 VI 
 THE LONELY MISSION STATION 
 
 From this point the writer journeyed across 
 country to the Lu Ho, an important tributary of 
 the Yangtze. The river was reached at a place 
 the name of which the inhabitants pronounce 
 Zid-zo. I remember well the night of my ar- 
 rival in that city. The festivities attendant 
 upon the New Year were still in progress, and 
 the principal business streets were hung with 
 hundreds of paper lanterns of the most ex- 
 traordinary designs. Some of them were in the 
 shape of fish, while others were crude repre- 
 sentations of birds and quadrupeds. Here let 
 us pause for a moment, while I try to portray 
 by a few touches the conditions under which 
 missionaries do their work. 
 
 Far in the interior of Asia, more than a 
 thousand miles from the sea as the crow flies, 
 that city is located. It lies on the bank of a 
 gently flowing river. The dull gray walls of 
 the city overlook the dull gray waters of the
 
 44 
 
 stream, while overhead hands a dull gray sky, 
 since the province of Four Streams is renowned 
 throughout all China as the land of clouds. 
 Behind the city, a temple-crowned height rises 
 three hundred feet above the narrow streets, 
 from which a winding path leads to the sum- 
 mit. On its other sides, the summit is inacces- 
 sible, for a cliff drops sheer and perpendicular. 
 The temple is a place of pilgrimage for the 
 Buddhists of western China, and every year 
 they come there in thousands, to worship at the 
 shrine of the Bright-eyed Goddess. As they 
 wind their way up the steep slope and through 
 the low mounds of the cemetery which lies on 
 the hill-side, they must pass the foot of a fan- 
 tastic wooden pagoda, situated about half way 
 up the ascent. It is right at the base of the 
 tower, and in the midst of the burial ground, 
 that the residence of the American mission- 
 aries is located. There they "live and move 
 and have their being." From there they 
 look down on the sea of gray tiled roofs and 
 thin curling columns of smoke, lying two 
 hundred feet below. From there they de- 
 scend to hold the services in their little church
 
 THE LONELY MISSION STATION. Sprague, photo.
 
 46 
 
 tucked away in a crowded corner of the city, 
 which even from a Chinese point of view is 
 exceedingly crowded. A bridge over a shallow 
 depression connects the foot of the hill with 
 one of the city's narrow side-streets. It is 
 probable that in summer, during the rainy sea- 
 son, a stream flows under the bridge, and con- 
 sequently a custom has grown up of throwing 
 the garbage of the city from it. In winter, the 
 channel is dry, but the custom is kept up not- 
 withstanding. The result is that the atmos- 
 phere in that locality can neither be described 
 nor imagined. And when the bridge has been 
 crossed on the way citywards, conditions are 
 very little better, for the way lies through the 
 nastiest, the filthiest, the vilest smelling street 
 that I remember having found in all that 
 country. 
 
 Such are the surroundings of the mission- 
 aries. Their home is a low, unpretentious 
 structure of what Conan Doyle would call the 
 "wattle and daub" type of architecture. Yet it 
 is neat and comfortable, amply adequate for the 
 needs of one family. I found it occupied by a 
 young couple who had arrived from Chicago
 
 ENTRAX'CE TO GUILD HALL, ZID-ZO. Sprague, photo.
 
 48 
 
 AT A CONFUCIAN TEMPLE. 
 
 Sprague, photo. 
 
 only a year before. They were still in the 
 midst of their study of the language, since it is 
 necessary for a missionary to devote the first 
 two years of residence to acquiring the ability 
 to converse with the people. With the help of 
 a native pastor to do the preaching, they were 
 trying to accomplish what little they could.
 
 49 
 
 Once a year, they travel three or four days' 
 journey to the north, to the capital, for confer- 
 ence. Once a year, the senior missionary, who 
 supervises their district, visits them for a few 
 days. The rest of the time, months may pass 
 without their seeing a white face. It is true 
 that the city lies on the principal highway of 
 western China, and if a globe trotter visits that 
 portion of the empire, he is pretty sure to pass 
 that way. Such a one may, possibly, linger for 
 a day, climb the hill, and enjoy their hospi- 
 tality. A. S. Roe, author of that delightful 
 volume, ''China As I Saw It," was entertained 
 there. But such visits are "short and far be- 
 tween." Most of the time those two young 
 people are as isolated from the white race as 
 though they were in the wilds of Thibet. 
 
 I should not be presenting a fair picture of 
 travel in that portion of the empire, if I had 
 not stopped to draw this sketch of the mission 
 station, for it is a red-letter day in the itinerary 
 of the traveller when he reaches one of these 
 little oases of western civilization set down in 
 the dirt and discomfort of China.
 
 50 
 
 VII 
 INTERESTING SIGHTS 
 
 I next wandered southward as inclination 
 prompted, visiting five large walled cities lo- 
 cated on or near the banks of the river. What 
 need is there to give the details of the journey? 
 Were this narrative written in the style of the 
 Anabasis — "Thence we proceeded so many par- 
 asangs and arrived at such and such a place" — ■ 
 it would prove dull reading indeed. There 
 have been too many accounts of western China 
 in that style, by travellers whose only object 
 seemed to be to gallop over as much ground in 
 as little time as possible, rather than to learn 
 something of the country and present an ade- 
 quate picture of it. No wonder that their books 
 have not found favor with the public. Nor 
 could I at this late day recount the details. 
 Dim memories arise of days spent in the "up 
 hill and down dale" country, walking along 
 the stone-paved roads or carried in sedan chair. 
 Other days are recalled spent lingering in some
 
 51 
 
 walled city, exploring its temples, photograph- 
 ing its monuments, watching and studying the 
 complex and busy life of its inhabitants. Be- 
 fore my mind's eye arise lofty pagodas, richly 
 sculptured memorial arches, roomy temples, 
 and great stone bridges. It has not been the 
 writer's intention to give the impression that 
 all the features worth seeing in western China 
 are due to the natural diversities and luxuriant 
 vegetation of a highly cultivated country. West- 
 ern China has its architectural monuments. 
 Especially fine and interesting are the bridges. 
 Marco Polo and all the travellers since him 
 have dilated upon their beautiful and substan- 
 tial character, claiming them superior to those 
 found in almost any other portion of the em- 
 pire. When the Venetian visited the Chentu 
 plain six hundred years ago, he wrote, "For 
 here the bridges have very handsome roofs, 
 constructed of wood, ornamented with paint- 
 ings of a red color, and covered with tiles." 
 Many a time has the writer crossed precisely 
 such a structure. Every feature was there, even 
 to the paintings. Of course they were not the 
 same as those that Marco saw, for they have
 
 MEMORIAL ARCH ERECTED IN 1902 Sprague, photo.
 
 53 
 
 long since fallen in decay. But the old bridges 
 have been rebuilt; the old styles have been kept 
 up. While many are roofed, many are not; 
 there is a great variety of design; the surround- 
 ings are always different, and consequently the 
 
 CARVING ON THE ARCH. Sprague, photo. 
 
 traveller has something fresh and novel to see 
 and admire in each. 
 
 But it was the memorial -arches, or portals, 
 which span the highways, that particularly fas- 
 cinated the writer. Even Japan, that land of
 
 54 
 
 art and beauty, where almost every feature is 
 a delight to the eye, does not possess them. Yes, 
 Japan has the torii but what are they? — two 
 logs of wood driven into the ground and 
 spanned by heavy beams of slightly curved 
 shape and pointed ends. It is true that their 
 very simplicity of design gives them a touch of 
 the artistic, but how can they possibly compare 
 with the monuments which ornament the Chi- 
 nese highways? There they stand with their 
 graceful outlines, massive structure, and intri- 
 cate carving. While it is true that many are 
 decaying and others have been battered to 
 pieces by wind and weather and have fallen in 
 fragments, yet new and handsome specimens 
 rise to take the place of those which fall by the 
 wayside. 
 
 And then there are the pagodas, sometimes 
 two hundred feet in height, built in the most 
 substantial fashion, of great smooth bricks, and 
 usually located on some prominent hill-top by 
 the side of a river; always down-stream from 
 the city whose welfare they are supposed to 
 guard, so that the water may not waft pros- 
 perity away from the community.
 
 More curious than these are the temples with 
 their rows of great grim idols, the seated fig- 
 ures often ten feet high. All that the writer 
 had ever read or dreamed of such things was 
 eclipsed by what he saw. __- — 
 
 It would be the greatest mistake to imagine 
 that western China is such a country as Korea 
 was prior to 1882, and in many respects still is; 
 the people sunk in degredation and misery; 
 their surroundings scarcely fit for animals. The 
 people of western China have an ancient civil- 
 ization of their own, which has been but little 
 affected by the decay which has come upon the 
 eastern provinces under the Manchu dynasty, 
 and from which they are now trying to recover. 
 While it is true that the villages and those por- 
 tions of the cities outside the walls are usually 
 squalor itself, yet within the walls you see much 
 that is calculated to command respect. Streets 
 solidly paved with sandstone, kept fairly clean 
 and in good repair; aesthetically arranged and 
 ornamented shops, with carved and lacquered 
 fronts; large and attractive stocks of merchan- 
 dise of many sorts; commodious and brilliantly 
 decorated guild halls for the merchants; these
 
 56 
 
 are some of the things you would see in a pros- 
 perous commercial center such as Kiating. It 
 is true that the buildings are usually low, one- 
 storey structures, but such is not always the case. 
 In a city called Zid-zo, the writer found whole 
 streets of two-storey buildings. This was on ac- 
 count of the location of the town, which pre- 
 cluded any further increase in area. As it was 
 impossible to expand side-wise, it became neces- 
 sary to expand upwards. 
 
 
 if
 
 57 
 
 VIII 
 A CHINESE INN 
 
 The reader may have a natural curiosity in 
 regard to the accommodations for travellers. As 
 it was in this part of the trip that the writer 
 visited an inn which is noted as being the best 
 in western China, it may be profitable to give a 
 description of it, for many travellers have men- 
 tioned it, but have refrained in a tantalizing 
 fashion from presenting any adequate picture. 
 Captain Gill and Baber lodged there forty 
 years ago in the days when a journey to Chentu 
 was looked upon as a journey to Lhassa, the 
 capital of Thibet, is now. In Archibald Little's 
 delightful volume "Mount Omei and Beyond," 
 he describes how he was driven out of Chung- 
 king by the cholera epidemic; how he set out 
 to spend the summer on Mt. Omei, and for the 
 first four or five days followed the Great Road 
 which leads to Chentu; how at the city of 
 Loong Chang he left the main road, diverging 
 towards the west to visit the salt-wells of Zil-u-
 
 58 
 
 gin, and he describes his regret at leaving the 
 comforts of a large Chinese inn at Loong Chang 
 to encounter the dirt and discomfort of the 
 small stopping-places at which he was forced 
 to take shelter, while on his way to the salt- 
 wells. It was the writer's fortune to put up at 
 the identical inn at which Mr. Little stopped, 
 and I found it the best place of the sort in 
 western China, with the exception, of course, of 
 the new inn at Chentu, which is supposed to be 
 in foreign style. In view of its associations and 
 also in view of the fact that its features are 
 fairly representative of the better-class inn in 
 that country, a description of the place may not 
 be uninteresting. But the reader must remem- 
 ber that this is a large inn doing a roaring 
 trade on the principal highway of western 
 China. It is an old fashioned Chinese inn at its 
 best. 
 
 Sometimes the entrance to a high class inn is 
 through a long, narrow passageway barely wide 
 enough to allow a chair to pass, but in the case of 
 the one at Loong Chang the premises are wide 
 open to the street. You may stand outside and 
 command a full view of the establishment. Sup-
 
 60 
 
 pose that you were to arrive on foot and were to 
 pause on the threshhold and look about you, 
 what would you see? At the very entrance, a 
 green-grocer has established his stand. In addi- 
 tion to his vegetables, he dispenses eggs, candles, 
 straw sandals, pipe-lights and such miscella- 
 neous wares as the cook or customers may 
 require at a moment's notice. To the right 
 and left of the entrance are a drug store and the 
 innkeeper's living room and office respectively. 
 As you enter the inn, you would pass four bar- 
 bers, two on the right and two on the left, who 
 have taken their places at the entrance and all 
 four of whom are quite possibly busy with cus- 
 tomers. The implements of their trade are dis- 
 tributed on a low shelf. After passing by the 
 barbers, you would pass the hotel office. Here 
 are kept the cash, the lamps, the wine, and, the 
 most prominent of all, the quilts which are 
 given out to the customers. In front of the 
 office are a few tables at which men may be 
 seen drinking tea or perhaps enjoying a full 
 meal. As you walked along you would see that 
 the whole place is solidly and evenly paved 
 with heavy slabs of sandstone, about four or five
 
 61 
 
 feet long, six inches thick and nearly a foot 
 wide. 
 
 Continuing, you would pass a short space 
 where the kitchen is located. It is on the right, 
 and its most prominent features are the clay- 
 built furnace where coal is burned and cooking 
 is going on, and the great troughs of stone con- 
 taining cold water brought from the river. 
 These have been constructed by laboriously hol- 
 lowing out great solid blocks of sandstone, and 
 are sometimes as much as ten feet long. Their 
 depth and breadth are usually two feet each. 
 It must be remembered, however, that the sand- 
 stone of western China is very easily worked. 
 So far the roof has been lofty, but you must 
 next pass under a platform about ten feet high. 
 On the left is the living-room of the druggist, 
 and outside his door is stacked an ordinary pile 
 of medicinal plants to be used later in com- 
 pounding remedies. To this pile, the druggist's 
 white and yellow cat is tethered by a fathom of 
 cord. The cat occasionally utters a protest 
 against this mild form of confinement. Oppo- 
 site the druggists's quarters is displayed the 
 ancestral tablet, before which the joss sticks are
 
 62 
 
 usually kept burning. As you walked out from 
 beneath the platform, you would come into the 
 main court-yard of the inn. This is a space 
 about fifty feet long and is wide open to the sky. 
 The rooms for the commoner class of guests are 
 located on either hand. To the right, there are 
 four above and four below; as many more to 
 the left. For the rooms are arranged in two 
 storeys, access to the upper rooms being afforded 
 by means of a gallery. This gallery is on the 
 same level as the platform before mentioned. 
 Standing in the center of the court-yard and 
 looking back, you would (if familiar with 
 Chinese institutions) immediately recognize the 
 platform as a stage for play-acting, and it is to 
 this that Archibald Little referred when he 
 spoke of the inn's possessing an "elevated stage 
 after the fashion of the old English inns." The 
 visitor from England recognizes as familiar 
 many features in China which to an American 
 seem most novel. If a play were to be given at 
 the inn, the gentry would be seated in the gal- 
 lery, the commoners would stand in the court- 
 yard below. I can in imagination see the an- 
 nouncement posted that a play is to be given.
 
 63 
 
 As the hour approaches, I can see the officials 
 arriving in their chairs of state, accompanied 
 by their wives and children. They take their 
 places in the gallery while the commoners 
 crowd the open court below. I can hear the 
 crash of barbaric music which heralds the ad- 
 vent of the play — the wild clangor of the cym- 
 bals, the blasts of the horns, the rapid beating of 
 the drums, and the shrill notes of the Chinese 
 fiddles. The actors file on the stage in their 
 gorgeous costumes and fantastic head-dresses. 
 The play commences. 
 
 But let us continue our journey through the 
 inn. Behind the main court-yard you would 
 find a lofty open structure about fifty feet broad 
 and twenty feet deep. The floor is open and 
 empty and it is here that the sedan chairs of the 
 guests and visitors are expected to be set down. 
 The rear wall contains three openings. The 
 middle one is square and is closed by great 
 black doors, on which is drawn in gilt lines 
 a huge fantastic animal. The openings to the 
 right and left are circular, but a few feet inside 
 are doors of the ordinary pattern. These 
 entrances lead to the "high rooms" which are
 
 64 
 
 occupied by officials, foreigners, or merchants 
 willing to meet the cost. Within each of these 
 entrances a little court-yard is located, also open 
 to the sky, and behind the court-yards come the 
 "high rooms." In each case there is a front and 
 a back room, each about fifteen feet wide by ten 
 feet deep. Behind each pair of rooms, there is 
 a last little court-yard containing a tree. This 
 is a feature very characteristic of Chinese inns 
 — at the extreme rear of the premises a bit of 
 ornamental vegetation. 
 
 Were you to traverse this inn from front to 
 rear, the probability is that you would encoun- 
 ter nothing offensive to either sight or smell, so 
 superior is it to the majority. There is a slight 
 layer of dirt on the paving, and the board floors 
 in the rooms have never experienced such a 
 thing as a scrubbing. They are swept after 
 the departure of a guest, but never washed. 
 Archibald Little mentions that the roads were 
 muddy at the time of his visit, and the incrusta- 
 tion which he and his retinue tracked into the 
 rooms is still there, but I was unable to trace 
 his footprints because they have been obliter-
 
 65 
 
 ated by the super-incrustation brought in since 
 then. 
 
 Life at such a place is quiet enough for the 
 most part, but let some high official arrive to 
 lodge there for the night, let him be accom- 
 panied by his family and a numerous retinue, 
 and at once a scene of turmoil and confusion en- 
 sues. First, the Great Man's official chair is 
 carried in by its four bearers and set down. 
 The Great Man steps out. His chair is fol- 
 lowed by those containing his w^ife and family, 
 and these in turn by those containing his higher 
 servants. Next come the frames containing the 
 bulkier baggage, for he may even carry with 
 him his own tables and chairs, not to mention 
 other multitudinous personal effects. Next come 
 the baskets carried on poles and containing food, 
 cooking utensils and the like. All these chairs 
 and all this luggage arrives just as the dusk of 
 the evening is setting in. They are set down 
 amid indescribable shouting, swearing and 
 jangling more appropriate to the field of battle 
 than to a peaceable inn. The Great Man's 
 guard of armed retainers possibly find the inn 
 more fully occupied than was anticipated, and
 
 66 
 
 they begin to have their doubts as to whether 
 they shall find a proper place to sleep. They 
 raise their voices in inquiry and imprecation. 
 The head servant of the inn is summoned to 
 bring his keys and open fresh rooms. Mean- 
 while he is being called in half a dozen other 
 directions. He loses his temper with the rest. 
 The court-yard is blocked with chairs, luggage, 
 and coolies. Finally, the more important chairs 
 are carried into the smaller court-yards and are 
 safely set on tables and trestles. The luggage 
 is carried within the rooms; the supper for the 
 Great Man and his family is prepared and 
 served in their apartments. The servants and 
 carrying-coolies eat at the tables in the outer 
 part of the inn. Quiet at last settles down. 
 
 As a rule, in describing Chinese inns to trav- 
 ellers recently arrived in the country, it is cus- 
 tomary to speak of them as vermin-infested. As 
 a sample of the sort of thing which is handed 
 out to the new arrival in search of information, 
 the story of how the missionary passes the night 
 at such a place may be cited. They say he 
 takes two tables and places them together side 
 by side or end to end, it doesn't make any dif-
 
 67 
 
 ference which because they are square; three 
 feet square. He next spreads an oiled sheet 
 over the tables. This hangs down about two 
 feet on all sides. He makes his bed on the 
 oiled sheet and lies down between his quilts. 
 As soon 'as the light is extinguished, the bugs 
 come crawling, crawling, crawling from all the 
 corners of the room — big bugs, little bugs, 
 medium sized bugs. They reach the table, 
 crawl up the legs, but are prevented from reach- 
 ing the missionary by the gimlet-proof oiled 
 sheet. After breaking a few teeth trying 
 to bite their way through, they turn and 
 crawl down the inner side of the sheet 
 with the intention of turning and climbing 
 up outside until they come at the mission- 
 ary, when they will have him. But when 
 they reach the edge of the sheet it is neces- 
 sary to make a very sharp turn. It is the 
 making of this sharp turn which floors them, for 
 they cannot get around it without falling to the 
 floor. There they lie for a while, kicking the 
 air. By and by they get on their feet once more 
 and make a fresh start up the table legs, but 
 the result is always the same. The sharp turn
 
 68 
 
 is too much for them. So the program goes on. 
 Meanwhile the missionary calmly reposes. He 
 sleeps the sleep of the just until morning, when 
 he arises and departs rejoicing on his way. If 
 you inquire as to the size of the insects, you will 
 be told, "Big as grasshoppers and then some 
 more." As a matter of fact, the plague of in- 
 sects in western China is not bad; is not to be 
 compared to what will be found in some sec- 
 tions of the United States. While the inns are 
 not entirely free from them, the evil is not one- 
 hundredth part of what might be expected. 
 
 The writer occupied one of the official suites 
 three days. On departing, a Mexican dollar 
 was tendered in payment. It was received with 
 a gratified grin.
 
 » 
 
 y^' 
 
 s^ 
 
 69 
 
 IX 
 DOWN THE RIVER 
 
 The Yangtze river was finally reached at Lu 
 Jo, situated where the Lu Ho and Yangtze com- 
 bine, for such a location is a favorite one with 
 Chinese towns. It is to this place that the 
 writer would conduct a traveller if he wished 
 him to see a typical Chinese city and carry away 
 a pleasing impression. Passage was taken in a 
 rice-laden junk, and, after floating a hundred 
 miles down the river, Chungking was reached. 
 This is the great commercial city of western 
 China, and is the place where foreign ideas 
 have been most fully introduced. The writer 
 found many of the merchants living in resi- 
 dences built in the foreign style, but far hand- 
 somer and more costly than any which the for- 
 eigners had themselves erected in that country. 
 
 And now before we leave that portion of the 
 empire and resume our course down the 
 Yangtze to the sea, I wish to say that it is '*a 
 good land, a land of brooks of water, of foun-
 
 70 
 
 tains and depths, springing forth in valleys and 
 hills; a land of wheat and barley, and vines and 
 fig trees and pomegranates; a land of oil, olives, 
 and honey; a land wherein you shall eat bread 
 without scarceness, you shall not lack anything 
 in it; a land whose rocks are coal and iron and 
 out of whose hills you may dig copper." Never- 
 theless, I should not recommend any one to go 
 there for a holiday excursion. That is, not un- 
 less his interest in the world was very great, and 
 his willingness to put up with discomforts equal 
 to it. 
 
 The next point to be reached was the city of 
 Ichang, five hundred miles down the stream. 
 Some authorities give the distance as four hun- 
 dred miles, but the latter figure is probably too 
 low. A steamer had recently been put on the 
 upper Yangtze. This vessel was a powerful 
 tug with a tender lashed alongside. Both ves- 
 sels were fitted to carry passengers, and both 
 splendidly equipped to battle with the dangers 
 of the great river of China. It seemed as 
 though this would be the best means of trans- 
 portation, but the vessel would not leave 
 immediately, and furthermore, it was gen-
 
 71 
 
 erally predicted by both residents of Chung- 
 king and naval men that she would never be 
 able to get down to Ichang on that trip, on ac- 
 count of the low state of the water. The river 
 in truth was low, and the writer decided to 
 travel by native craft. An attempt was made to 
 hire the captain's quarters in a large cargo junk 
 and one was found whose captain agreed to rent 
 his room at a reasonable figure, but with char- 
 acteristic Chinese carelessness he put his papers 
 through the custom-house before booking his 
 passenger. In order for him to arrange the 
 matter, it would be necessary for him to take 
 out a fresh set of papers at fresh expense, so that 
 chance for transportation was lost. No other 
 large cargo-junk offering at once, the only re- 
 course was to hire a boat of one's own, and a 
 woopan was selected. This was a native craft 
 about thirty feet long. The central portion had 
 been boarded ofif and furnished with swinging 
 doors. It had been arched over with heavy 
 Chinese matting, and a room about twelve feet 
 long and six feet wide was thus provided. The 
 flooring of this room was not placed on the 
 boat's thwarts, as is frequently the case, but was
 
 72 
 
 placed on cleats a few inches above the bottom 
 of the boat. This arrangement permitted a per- 
 son to stand erect when inside and still have 
 plenty of room between his hat and the roof. 
 
 In the season of low water there are perhaps 
 a hundred rapids, large and small, between 
 Chungking and Ichang, of which three are of 
 the first magnitude. As the month was March, 
 the river was at its lowest and wherever a rapid 
 was possible we found one. When passing these, 
 our boat possessed the delightful peculiarity of 
 swinging a complete circle; sometimes the circle 
 would only be described once, but more often 
 two or three times. When we reached the first 
 great rapid it seemed as though we should get 
 through without this experience. But no! 
 When almost through, our boat commenced its 
 customary evolution. A heavy cargo-junk, 
 which shortly before had been half a mile 
 astern, was now only a few hundred yards dis- 
 tant, and as we swung broadside to the current, 
 the junk's immense bow-paddle or steering 
 sweep, which projects in front, pointed at us in 
 a most menacing fashion. Had it caught us 
 amidships, we should have been sent rolling
 
 73 
 
 over like a straw. Fortunately there was no col- 
 lision on the first swing, but on the second we 
 touched the junk's side. Although, we only 
 seemed to graze it, the impact was sufficient to 
 smash one of the spars lashed alongside. How- 
 ever, no other damage was done. 
 
 On the morning of the next day, we saw the 
 walls of the first of the Yangtze's five great 
 gorges rising before us, one immense rock tow- 
 ering four thousand feet above the river. We 
 approached the defile and soon were passing 
 through it. In such a place the structure of the 
 earth's crust is strikingly shown, the great layers 
 of rock sloping up in one direction as you enter 
 and in the opposite as you leave, while in the 
 center where the mountains have been carved to 
 the core they form a perfect arch. Landing 
 from the boat, the writer secured a photograph 
 of the scene. The first, or Windbox, gorge is 
 short, but below it comes another twenty miles 
 in length — the Wushan. That evening the 
 wind, which blew up stream and in the teeth of 
 boats bound down, commenced to rise, and we 
 were compelled by its force to make an early 
 stop when the dusk came on. We were right
 
 JNK SAILIXG UP THE GORGES. 
 
 Spragne, p
 
 in the wildest and grandest portion of the Wu- 
 shan gorge, and all next day we lay there while 
 the wind whistled and howled and drifted sand 
 into the boat, until the rain began to fall and 
 caked the sand and prevented any more of that. 
 But while conditions were unfavorable for 
 travel downwards, they were glorious for traffic 
 bound up stream, and all day long we were see- 
 ing junk after junk rush by, frequently under a 
 mere rag of sail, but all going at a great rate, 
 the foam rolling and roaring before them. 
 
 The next morning we were able to proceed 
 on our course, and so we continued down the 
 river, shooting the rapids and threading the 
 gorges, until one afternoon found us escaping 
 from the last great gloomy defile. We had 
 been nine days on the way. 
 
 Ten miles more to Ichang! So they called 
 the distance, but it seemed the longest ten miles 
 the writer ever travelled, and darkness had come 
 before we reached the landing. A modern 
 Japanese steamer, brilliantly illuminated by 
 electricity, was lying in the stream. We tied 
 up near the custom's jetty, and almost within 
 the glare of the vessel's lights. As I sank to
 
 76 
 
 sleep that night, and heard the steamer's bell 
 ringing out the hour, I felt myself once more 
 in touch with modern civilization. I had re- 
 turned from the middle ages to the twentieth 
 century. 
 
 AMERICAN HOSPITAL, CHUNGKING. Sprague, ])hoto.
 
 // 
 
 X 
 
 LIES TOLD To TRAVELLERvS 
 
 A week was spent at this point, the time af- 
 fording opportunity to see the commencement 
 which the Chinese are making on a railway 
 that will eventually connect the rest of the 
 country with the western provinces. During 
 this delay at Ichang, there occurred an incident, 
 slight enough in itself, yet which so perfectly 
 illustrates a kind of annoyance to which a per- 
 son newly arrived in China may be subjected, 
 that I am tempted to give it in detail. It is 
 true that the writer, owing to his familiarity 
 with the language and customs of the country, 
 suffered no inconvenience, but that was not the 
 fault of the person who tried to trick him. Be- 
 fore telling the story, it is necessary to make a 
 brief explanation. In China the money is not 
 coined by the central government at Peking, 
 but each province has its own mint and its own 
 coinage. On passing from one province to an- 
 other, it is usually necessary to exchange the
 
 78 
 
 silver of the province from which you have 
 come for that of the province into which you 
 go. The money changers demand a certain per- 
 centage for making the exchange. But when 
 the writer arrived at Ichang, he found that at 
 that time (April, 1910) money of all provinces 
 was accepted there at its face value. This is on 
 account of the central position of the town, and 
 the number of traders who come from different 
 parts of the empire. Dollars of any province 
 are always in demand. Furthermore, the writer 
 inquired at a steamship office, and was posi- 
 tively informed by the Chinese clerk that his 
 Chentu dollars would be accepted in payment 
 for a ticket to Shanghai. As that company had 
 no steamer departing soon, the ticket was pur- 
 chased at another office for the first steamer 
 leaving, and was paid for in Chentu dollars, 
 which were gladly received. But when the day 
 of departure drew near, the writer still had one 
 hundred of those dollars in his possession, and 
 he offered them to the missionaries in return 
 for a check on the English bank at Shanghai. 
 In order to make this transaction clear, it is 
 necessary to explain another custom. In most
 
 79 
 
 of the large centers in China there are foreign- 
 ers in the employ of the government. These 
 men are paid each month in silver, each pack- 
 age of one hundred silver dollars weighing 
 about six pounds. The missionaries buy this 
 money, paying for it by checks on the English 
 bank at Shanghai, where the money coming 
 from abroad for the support of the missions is 
 deposited. The government employee thus gets 
 rid of as much of his cumbersome silver as he 
 does not require for immediate use, and mails 
 the check to his bank at Shanghai, together 
 with a request that his account be credited with 
 that sum. Of course, both missionaries and 
 government employees might deal with native 
 banks, and in some places they do. But Chinese 
 banks are regarded as an uncertain quantity. 
 Foreigners prefer if possible to use the great 
 English bank. The above is just as much a 
 custom of the country as is the eating of rice. 
 At the Ichang missions, Chentu dollars are 
 usually in especial demand on account of the 
 parties of missionaries which are being sent up 
 the river from time to time, and to whom those 
 dollars are an absolute necessity. Accordingly,
 
 80 
 
 the writer knew that in offering the dollars to 
 the Ichang missions he would be conferring a 
 favor in return for many which he had received 
 at other places. However, it happened at that 
 particular time that the Ichang missions were 
 stocked up with dollars. At least, that was the 
 reason they gave for declining the silver. But 
 the writer suspects that missionary bank ac- 
 counts are not bottomless, and that the real rea- 
 son was that they did not wish to write a check 
 when there might not be sufficient funds on 
 on hand to meet it. Consequently a visit was 
 made to the office of one of the steamship com- 
 panies; in fact, the very office where the in- 
 formation had first been received that Chentu 
 dollars would be accepted at their face value in 
 payment for transportation. The company's 
 agent, a Scotchman, was in charge and received 
 the writer courteously enough, but when the 
 dollars were offered to him he declined them. 
 Had he simply said that he did not need them, 
 no exception could have been taken, but he ad- 
 vised that the dollars be carried down the river 
 to the bank at Hankow, and, following the 
 writer to the door, said:
 
 81 
 
 "Really, if I did take your d(3liars, I don't 
 see how I could use them in the business." 
 
 This from the representative of a large steam- 
 ship and commercial firm, carrying on a regu- 
 lar trade with the very province from which the 
 dollars came! The above remark was made 
 almost within the hearing of the Chinese clerk 
 who had previously given out the information 
 that the firm regularly received Chentu dollars 
 in payment of bills. The writer listened to the 
 remark in silence, turned on his heel, anJ 
 walked to another office, where the Chinese ac- 
 countant very readily accepted the silver, giv- 
 ing in exchange Shanghai money in the shape 
 of bank notes issued by the Hongkong and 
 Shanghai Banking Corporation. This was far 
 better than if he had written a check. In fact, 
 it was equivalent to writing a check and cashing 
 it at one transaction. 
 
 The real reason why that Scotchman made 
 such an absurd statement was that he belonged 
 to a class of men frequently met in commer- 
 cial circles in China, whose chief delight is 
 to befool and befuddle the new-comer. He 
 had become so accustomed to handing out false
 
 82 
 
 and misleading information to strangers that he 
 could not resist the temptation to give the same 
 sort of thing even to one who had arrived from 
 the wrong direction, from the interior instead 
 of from abroad, and who was familiar with the 
 language, and probably knew more about the 
 customs of the country than he did. But imag- 
 ine the case if the writer had been a new-comer, 
 ignorant of the language and customs! Such 
 information coming from the representative of 
 a great steamship and commercial company 
 would have been accepted as reliable, instead 
 of a gross fabrication. The dollars would have 
 been carried on to Hankow where they are not 
 wanted, there to be disposed of at a heavy loss. 
 I have related this whole incident at consider- 
 able length in order to make clear that the 
 Texas liar, with his yarns for the tenderfoot, is 
 not confined to any particular locality. You 
 meet him in China, too.
 
 83 
 
 XI 
 FROM SHANGHAI TO SAX FRANCISCO 
 
 Shanghai was reached in due season, and ten 
 days were spent in the great modern commer- 
 cial city which foreign enterprise has built on 
 the shores of China. Before I go on, I must 
 make an explanation which has been given ten 
 thousand times before by ten thousand travel- 
 lers who have written of Shanghai. That city 
 is not "on the sea" as its name claims, nor is it 
 situated on the Yangtze river, although you 
 enter the mouth of that stream to reach it. 
 Shanghai is on the Whangpoa, a branch of the 
 Yangtze, and it is twelve miles from the city to 
 the point where the smaller stream joins the 
 great river. It is necessary to repeat the above 
 statements for the benefit of the few who may 
 see them for the first time and for those who 
 have forgotten. 
 
 Most of the steamers bound for Shanghai 
 ascend the river to the city and land their 
 passengers directly at its docks, but vessels of
 
 84 
 
 the largest size do not. These lie just without 
 the entrance to the smaller stream, while the 
 passengers and their effects are brought to them 
 by a powerful tug or tender. The steamer in 
 which the writer was to travel was an immense 
 boat of 21,000 tons displacement, twenty-two 
 knots speed, entirely constructed in Japan and 
 manned too by the Japanese, except for the 
 American captain and purser employed as a 
 concession to the travelling public. Accord- 
 ingly, on the afternoon of departure the writer 
 embarked in the tender. As the powerful tug 
 swirled on its way down the broad reaches of 
 the river, we passed a fleet of old-style war- 
 junks. There they lay — a long line, moored 
 end to end, with their clumsy sails, immense, 
 overhanging sterns, and old-fashioned smooth- 
 bore cannon pointing over the bulwarks. As I 
 leaned on the rail and watched them, I thought 
 to myself that of all the strange, bizarre, and 
 antiquated objects which I had seen in China, 
 the strangest of all were these. The most curi- 
 ous sight I saw had been reserved for the last. 
 
 We were now rapidly approaching our 
 steamer as it lay bulking large on the river.
 
 ox THE BUXD AT SHAXGHAI. 
 
 Sprague, photo.
 
 86 
 
 with its huge yellow funnels and ventilators, its 
 turbine engines and its triple screws. We made 
 fast to the gangplank, and, as soon as the pas- 
 sengers were on board, one of the seamen seized 
 a lever and began to torture the steam-winch, 
 which in response spat, hissed, growled and 
 snarled, and presently the baggage was being 
 hoisted on board to a growling and snarling 
 accompaniment from the steam-winch. 
 
 So smoothly did the engines do their work, 
 that we had been under way an hour before we 
 were aware of it. We crossed to Nagasaki for 
 coal, and from there proceeded to Kobe, which 
 we reached one evening after a glorious day on 
 the Inland Sea under ideal weather conditions. 
 After Kobe, our next port was Yokohoma, 
 where we lay three days, the time permitting 
 of excursions to the capital, Tokio, to which 
 Yokohoma bears the same relation that the 
 Piraeus did to Athens. 
 
 Oh, what a contrast the shops of the two 
 cities, filled with their beautiful art work — 
 cloisonnee and- satsuma — afforded to those of 
 China! The writer never realized until he 
 visited Japan what exquisite works of art can
 
 87 
 
 be produced from bronze, porcelain and enam- 
 eled metal. If his purse had equalled his in- 
 clinations, he would have loaded the ship with 
 vases, bronzes and richly carved furniture. 
 
 Soon came the time for departure. One aft- 
 ernoon we slipped out from the harbor. Once 
 more we heard the muffled thunder of the triple 
 screws and we shaped our course for Honolulu. 
 Would that some thrilling incidents had oc- 
 curred on that voyage in order that I might re- 
 count them! It would greatly enliven this 
 narrative if I were able to tell how "on the last 
 day before we reached port, the barometer be- 
 gan to fall, the clouds began to gather, and be- 
 fore noon had come a great gale was sweeping 
 over the ocean with irresistible fury, and carry- 
 ing us along towards our destination. I stood 
 at the forward end of the topmost deck watch- 
 ing the vessel cleave a way through the billows. 
 The ship balanced itself for a moment on the 
 summit of a gigantic wave. As we hung there 
 for an instant, I saw a Japanese fishing-boat in 
 the valley beyond, not fifty feet to the right of 
 our direct course. The next moment the great 
 steamer plunged downward and smote the
 
 88 
 
 water with a shock which flung a mighty bow- 
 wave. As that creaming, seething, roaring 
 wall of water rolled away on either hand, in 
 the twinkling of an eye it had descended upon 
 that frail fishing craft. In the twinkling of an 
 eye it had drowned the dying yell of the de- 
 spairing Japanese; it overwhelmed their boat, 
 and carried it down, down, five thousand fath- 
 oms down, to mingle with the slime and ooze 
 that cover the bottom of the sea in those abys- 
 mal depths." But I am sorry to say that I am 
 unable to furnish any such incidents. Like 
 most ocean voyages, ours was prosaic rather than 
 poetic. It is true that on the night before 
 reaching Honolulu we came near running down 
 a Japanese fishing-boat, but the weather was 
 calm and no damage was done. 
 
 The next morning we were lying outside the 
 harbor. There they were again — those old, fa- 
 miliar sights and scenes; the bold outlines of 
 Diamond Head, the curving beach of Waikiki, 
 the rusty slope of Punch Bowl, and the glorious 
 dark green of higher hills, illuminated by a 
 brilliant tropical sun, while great white masses 
 of the trade-wind clouds overhung them and
 
 89 
 
 rose miles in the air, shifting and swaying, 
 twining themselves into first one and then an- 
 other configuration of dazzling, pearl-white 
 
 beauty. 
 
 The quarantine inspection was long and rigid, 
 for we carried on board a band of the hated 
 Russians — hated because previous bands had 
 once been welcomed to their shores by the citi- 
 zens of the Hawaiian Isles, and had been fur- 
 nished homes and employment on the great 
 sugar estates, only to prove their utter undesir- 
 ability for the kind of work expected of them. 
 It was hoped to find evidences of disease which 
 would make their entry difficult or impossible, 
 but none such were found, and by noon we were 
 at the dock and ashore for a half day's run in 
 Honolulu, than which there is no more delight- 
 ful place of residence though you search the 
 wide world over. The writer well recalls his 
 year and a half of residence in that city. Would 
 that it had continued for the rest of his days! 
 But regrets are vain, and after a glimpse of the 
 valleys, the parks, the palm-lined avenues, the 
 cool, dim halls of the Aquarium, and a thou- 
 sand other delightful features which will
 
 90 
 
 readily present themselves to the mind of any 
 one familiar with the place, we were once again 
 on board our steamer, and the next morning 
 witnessed our departure for San Francisco. 
 
 Six days more at sea. Sometimes we sighted 
 a steamer miles away on the horizon, and one 
 morning we passed another at close range bound 
 in the same direction as ourselves; and then on 
 the final morning we saw before us Jthe familiar 
 outlines of the Golden Gate, its cliffs rising 
 from out the great, rolling, majestic sea that for 
 thousands of years had been breaking on those 
 rocks. We entered the harbor of San Fran- 
 cisco and presently found ourselves surrounded 
 by all the complex life of a modern sea-port. 
 And the last impression which I received from 
 my journey was that this is the real land of 
 wonders; wonders which have become so fa- 
 miliar that we are apt to take them as matters 
 of course. 
 
 The idea which came to the writer has been 
 brought out by the poet Tennyson. In Locks- 
 ley Hall, one of his early poems, he shows what 
 a powerful impression had been made upon him 
 as a young man by the marvelous march of
 
 91 
 
 modern scientific invention and discovery which 
 was then commencing. Perhaps you will re- 
 call the passage beginning: 
 
 "Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever 
 
 reaping something new: 
 That which they have done but earnest of the 
 things that they shall do." 
 
 In another passage the poet speaks of the en- 
 joyment he found in 
 
 "this march of mind, 
 In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts 
 that shake mankind." 
 
 Again he called upon the scientific age in 
 which he lived to 
 
 "Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the 
 lightnings, weigh the Sun." 
 
 But, when an old man, he wrote "Locksley 
 Hall Sixty Years After." There he says: 
 
 "Half the marvels of my morning, triumphs 
 over time and space, • 
 Staled by frequence, shrunk by usage, into 
 commonest commonplace."
 
 92 
 
 So it is with us. "Familiarity breeds con- 
 tempt," and we have come to look upon the 
 greatest triumphs of mind over matter as the 
 "commonest commonplace." The wonders of 
 the past have become the commonplaces of the 
 present; the commonplaces of the past have 
 become the objects of curiosity of to-day. It is 
 necessary to reside in some corner of the world 
 into which modern science has not yet pene- 
 trated, or is only just gaining a footing; some 
 country where the conditions of former centu- 
 ries still prevail, in order to realize what a 
 wonderful land we live in. 
 
 THE END
 
 93 
 RECENT AND RADICAL CHANGES 
 
 I presume that the North China Herald, pub- 
 lished weekly at Shanghai, has some readers in 
 the United States. It is certain that it enjoys a 
 wide circulation among the English-speaking 
 residents of China, but I suppose that very few 
 casual readers of the North China Herald of 
 October 30, 1909, noticed in an obscure corner 
 among the news items from Ichang, a city a 
 thousand miles up the Yangtze river, the item: 
 
 "Two naval officers recently arrived for the 
 gunboats in western China, and set out by na- 
 tive boat for their destination. They returned 
 to Ichang after a few days, having been 
 wrecked, and having had their goods consider- 
 ably damaged or lost altogether. The river is 
 falling, but a strong current is still running in 
 places. The Shutung came into port a week 
 ago and has not yet left for Chungking." 
 
 I happened to observe it six months later, be- 
 cause I was temporarily stranded in California, 
 and I was reviving memories of old Chinese 
 days by conning a file of Shanghai papers. That 
 announcement, in its few simple phrases, speaks
 
 94 
 
 volumes to one who can understand all it means, 
 for the facts referred to typify the old order 
 and the new, — the old order which is passing 
 away in China and the new which is arriving. 
 It is along that line that I wish to speak. It is 
 of changing China that I wish to write. Dur- 
 ing a recent residence of a year and a half in 
 that country, one year of which was spent as an 
 instructor in a government college located in 
 one of the most remote provinces, the writer 
 came into contact with many of the movements 
 which are revolutionizing affairs. It is his in- 
 tention to speak of some concerning which he 
 can testify from personal observation. 
 
 When that correspondent stated that the new 
 steamer Shutung had arrived, he also stated that 
 the problem of rapid transportation on the up- 
 per Yangtze had at last been solved after many, 
 many years of wearisome waiting, and solved 
 by the Chinese themselves. Permit me to 
 briefly outline the old conditions of travel on 
 the river and the work which was done in at- 
 tempting to improve them, for the whole story 
 illustrates the changes which are coming over 
 China.
 
 PAGODA AT DAY YAXG. 
 
 Knipe, plioto.
 
 96 
 
 When a traveller arrived in Shanghai, bound 
 for what is still considered by many foreign 
 residents of that city a wild, inaccessible and 
 dangerous terra incognita, namely western 
 China, he found that the journey was easy 
 enough for a thousand miles of the way. Every 
 day a steamer leaves for Hankow, six hundred 
 miles up the Yangtze river, and for the next 
 four hundred miles to Ichang steam navigation 
 is reasonably regular and dependable. He 
 found that the vessels navigating the river were 
 of a very superior class, possessing, according 
 to the announcements of their sometimes too 
 optimistic agents, "all the conveniences of a 
 first-class mail-steamer." He found the river 
 flowing with a moderate current beneath low 
 banks, which it overflowed at times of very 
 high water. If the river was in flood, its navi- 
 gation much resembled that of some great lake; 
 but if it was at a moderate stage, the steamer 
 plowed along as close as possible to the bank in 
 order to avoid the strong current, and the trav- 
 eller seated on the upper deck beheld the fea- 
 tures of the country and the daily life of its in- 
 habitants unrolled before him like a great series
 
 97 
 
 of moving pictures. While he enjoyed the com- 
 forts and luxuries of modern civilization, he 
 beheld the squalor and wretchedness of China. 
 He saw everything, but came in contact with 
 nothing. But w^hen he arrived at Ichang, he 
 found he must face a very different set of condi- 
 tions before he could reach Chungking, the 
 great port of western China, located on the 
 banks of the river, five hundred miles beyond. 
 At Ichang the mountains begin, and ten miles 
 beyond that city the river issues from the first 
 of the immense gorges by which it bursts its 
 way through the rugged barrier that separates 
 the central portion of the empire from the west- 
 ern. For the next tw^o hundred miles, it either 
 courses through profound gorges, or hurls itself 
 over tempestuous rapids. Happily the latter 
 come between the former; were they to coin- 
 cide, the navigation of the river would be a 
 physical impossibility. As it is, the junks by 
 hugging the bank can be dragged past the rap- 
 ids, although in some places as many as two 
 hundred men will be required in addition to 
 the crew. A large junk will carry as many as 
 seventy men, of whom between forty and fifty
 
 A TE.AIPLE NEAR CHEXTU. Sprague. photo.
 
 99 
 
 will be trackers walking and clambering along 
 the bank, dragging the clumsy vessel up stream 
 by the bamboo towing line. The remainder 
 will be needed to keep the tracking line clear 
 from the rocks, to man the small boat which 
 serves as a tender, and to work on board the 
 junk, manipulating the sail and the immense 
 bow-paddle or steering sweep which projects 
 in front and by which the boat is turned when 
 its rudder will not suffice. 
 
 If the wind is strong, the boats are frequently 
 greatly favored by it, for it usually blows up 
 stream, following the windings faithfully. This 
 is so much the case and is so strongly counted on 
 that when a junk is bound down stream, the 
 mast is unstepped and lashed alongside, nor is 
 it raised again until the junk has once more 
 been engaged to ascend the river. But even when 
 the wind is most favorable, when the trackers 
 can be taken on board and the great sail does 
 all the work, progress is still halting and slow, 
 for after some glorious dash before the breeze, 
 the boat must lie all day or two days in line at 
 the foot of some rapid, waiting its turn to haul 
 past.
 
 100 
 
 The first hundred and fifty miles of the jour- 
 ney are so much more difficult than the re- 
 mainder that they are reckoned half the voyage, 
 but one of the fiercest rapids still remains to be 
 encountered, and the whole progress to Chung- 
 king is a continual struggle. 
 
 At Ichang, the traveller, who perhaps during 
 the entire voyage from Shanghai had never 
 once descended from the upper deck of the 
 steamer to mingle with the common class of 
 Chinese passengers on the lower deck, must 
 leave his luxurious quarters and take passage in 
 a house-boat, a native craft sixty or seventy feet 
 long with the forward half of its deck uncov- 
 ered and occupied by the men numbering forty 
 or more; the after half covered by the house in 
 which the passengers and junk-master live. The 
 writer well remembers the wearisome experi- 
 ence of himself and his companions in over- 
 coming those five hundred miles, for the wind 
 helped us not at all. Day after day we lay in 
 our boat while our trackers were toiling through 
 the gorges and past the rapids of the Yangtze, 
 dragging us nearer and nearer to our destina- 
 tion. Week after week passed by, nearly a
 
 101 
 
 month had gone when finally the tiled roofs 
 and lofty pagodas of Chungking rose before us, 
 and that stage of the journey was done. 
 
 Ours was not an experience which involved 
 any particular hardship, but others have not 
 been so fortunate. An extreme case was that of 
 a young missionary who came out from the 
 United States with his wife and baby girl some 
 years ago. They embarked in a house-boat. 
 Not half the distance had been covered when 
 the child fell ill. In a few more days it was 
 dead. About this time the husband and father 
 was stricken down with typhoid fever,and it 
 became necessary to bind him to the deck to 
 prevent him from throwing himself overboard 
 in his delirium. The deck of a house-boat is 
 not like that of a ship, but is made up of small 
 squares or sections which are laid loosely on the 
 deck beams. These sections are of such a size 
 that they can be easily picked up and set to one 
 side by hand when the boat is being loaded or 
 unloaded. The fever-stricken man's hands and 
 feet were separately fastened each to one of 
 these sections, and when the delirium seized 
 him, he would raise the squares alternately with
 
 \. k 
 
 'Ti!, 'Mr^£iA'\ffi f^f "^fr- 
 
 
 BRIDGE IN TME THAfPLE GROUNDS. Sprague, pliotc
 
 103 
 
 a wild clattering, while his cries rang through 
 the boat, floated over the water, and were 
 echoed back from the great cliffs rising in 
 gloomy grandeur by the side of the river. 
 Meanwhile the junk was being hauled through 
 the rapids, sometimes careening as though 
 it would certainly capsize, while the drum 
 by which the trackers are signalled to pull 
 harder was being beaten with maddening 
 intensity, the men managing the huge bow- 
 sweep were chorusing a wild chant as they 
 tried to keep the boat in the channel, and the 
 waters were roaring and dashing over a row of 
 jagged rocks which partly rose above the sur- 
 face not a biscuit's toss away. Imagine the 
 situation of the wife. There was the baby in 
 its cofiin, which must be guarded from the rats 
 night and day. There was the husband, pros- 
 trate and helpless. There was the fore part of 
 the boat packed with Chinese coolies of the 
 lowest and roughest class, boatmen and trackers, 
 swarming on board at meal-time or at night to 
 sleep while the boat was tied to the bank. With 
 her child dead, her husband delirious, and sur- 
 rounded by a wild band of howling heathen, she
 
 104 
 
 finally reached Chungking. And yet, although a 
 frail, delicate girl, accustomed all her life to 
 the luxuries and refinement which our modern 
 civilization usually throws around the daugh- 
 ters of the wxU-to-do, she suffered no injury 
 whatever from her frightful experience, and 
 reached her destination with health and strength 
 unimpaired. 
 
 Medical attendance was immediately avail- 
 able for the missionary, and he was speedily put 
 upon his feet. After a short delay, he was able 
 to walk most of the way from Chungking to 
 Chentu, his destination, for they resolved to 
 complete their journey by land. They had had 
 enough of river travel. 
 
 Such was and still is the nature of the river. 
 Such was and still is the nature of the native 
 navigation — clumsy, square-ended junks towed 
 by gangs of coolies walking along the bank or 
 clambering over the great boulders which plen- 
 tifully bestrew it. 
 
 For twenty years attempts have been made to 
 interest foreign capital in putting a steamer on 
 the run. Once an English side-wheeler was put 
 on, but was purchased by the British navy for
 
 105 
 
 a gunboat after its first trip. Again, a German 
 steamer was started, but was l(3St the first day 
 out from Ichang. Finally, in 1909, a steamer 
 which had been ordered in England by a Chi- 
 nese company was brought out in sections and 
 put together at Shanghai. This was the Shu- 
 tung previously referred to — a powerful tug 
 with a tender to carry passengers. The tender 
 could be towed, but was usually lashed along- 
 side. In the spring of 1910, when the writer ar- 
 rived at Chungking, homeward bound to the 
 United States, he found the Shutung about to 
 commence regular runs on the five hundred 
 mile stretch. Two or three days are taken for 
 the run down, and six for the upward run. If 
 it were possible to travel by night, much less 
 time would be needed, but that is out of the 
 question on account of the innumerable dangers 
 from rocks and rapids. It is true that on the 
 thirteenth trip — unlucky number — a rock was 
 bumped and it became necessary to land the pas- 
 sengers when only forty miles of the journey re- 
 mained to be accomplished. However, the 
 damage was comparatively slight and soon re- 
 paired. With this exception, the vessel has been
 
 106 
 
 flying back and forth as smoothly as the shuttle 
 of a sewing machine. 
 
 The writer described the journey under the 
 old conditions at such length in order to make 
 clear the immense difference between travel by 
 junk and travel by steamer; in order to show 
 what a saving of time, trouble and money is 
 afforded by the presence of the Shutung on the 
 river. And remember, this change has been 
 brought about by a Chinese firm, and not by 
 one of the foreign transportation companies 
 long established on the lower Yangtze. 
 
 The above instance is a mere straw to show 
 which way the wind blows. If the writer had 
 nothing weightier to relate, he might as well 
 keep silent altogether. Another instance which 
 I sort out from the numerous ones that illus- 
 trate recent and radical changes is that with re- 
 spect to beggary. Until lately, mendicancy 
 abounded in western China, and especially were 
 the beggars of Chentu famous. The stories 
 which have been told about them are legion. 
 When Archibald Little, the English merchant 
 and explorer, first visited the city, he wrote 
 back that "Chentu was a vast collection of alleys
 
 107 
 
 where all the dirt and beggary of western China 
 seemed to have reached their climax." John- 
 ston,who travelled "From Peking to Mandalay" 
 in 1906, said that he never encountered so many 
 beggars as at Chentu, and it was about this time 
 that one of the oldest missionaries in that portion 
 of the empire, long resident in the above city, 
 commenced a series of articles for publication 
 descriptive of the 20,000 beggars of Chentu. 
 He took them up in detail, describing their 
 crowds as they thronged the streets, their dirt, 
 their rags, their wretchedness, their beggars' 
 guild, their beggar king, and the beggars' 
 bridge outside the city's east gate where their 
 chief might frequently be seen levying toll 
 upon his beggar subjects as they crossed. The 
 reverend gentleman dwelt upon the perfection 
 of their organization which made it impossible 
 for a merchant to refuse their demands abso- 
 lutely; should he decline to contribute, immedi- 
 ately a drove of tatterdemalions would be 
 marched to the spot by the beggars' guild. 
 They would besiege his place, block all en- 
 trance, and load the air with their cries for cash
 
 TliE 'J'E.MPLK S'iWikS. 
 
 Sprague. photo.
 
 109 
 
 until he must needs accede to their demands or 
 retire from all business. 
 
 The reverend gentleman entrusted this 
 series of articles to a monthly journal published 
 by the missionaries at a small printing office, 
 the machinery for which had somehow drifted 
 out to that remote corner of the world. They 
 appeared in print in due season. Meanwhile, 
 he departed for England on his furlough, for 
 every seven years a missionary may return to 
 England, Canada, or wherever his home may be 
 in order to greet his friends once more and 
 come in touch with the western world. A year 
 later he was again at his post in Chentu, when 
 lo! he found the beggars gone and the whole 
 system of beggary swept away. The beggars' 
 guild, the beggar king, the beggar persecutions 
 were all things of the past, and it became neces- 
 sary for the reverend gentleman to set to work 
 with his pen and prepare a fresh series of ar- 
 ticles describing the new conditions and how 
 they had been brought about. 
 
 And how had it been acomplished? By driv- 
 ing the beggars out of town to wander up and 
 down the railway track, or rather the public
 
 110 
 
 highway, for of railways western China has 
 none? No, and again no! The method was to 
 establish public institutions, call them work- 
 houses if you will, into which the beggars were 
 gathered and where they were taught to be self- 
 supporting. Those who proved promising were 
 sent out into such regular employment as could 
 be found for them. Those who were worthless 
 were kept in the institutions, where they were 
 given sufficient work to keep them and from 
 which they were sent out to certain employ- 
 ments for which they were in demand. The 
 question might arise here, "For what employ- 
 ment is a worthless beggar in demand?" That 
 which the writer has particularly in mind is — 
 marching in funeral processions. When a Chi- 
 nese of means or position is buried, a great 
 crowd is necessary to escort his coffin on its way, 
 and for this the members of the Beggars' In- 
 stitute are particularly suitable. The writer has 
 frequently stood by the side of the way and seen 
 them march past, behind, or rather before, a 
 coffin (for it comes last), each man decently at- 
 tired and wearing a small straw hat on the
 
 Ill 
 
 band of which were the characters telling 
 where he came from. 
 
 It would be a mistake to believe that this 
 revolution was worked in a day. When the 
 writer arrived in Chentu on the 1st day of Jan- 
 uary, 1909, a few beggars were still to be found 
 plying their trade with rice bowl and whining 
 complaint in the old-fashioned way, but these 
 were mostly outside of the wall, and even they 
 disappeared before long. Now and then a man 
 would appear begging on the streets, but the 
 police soon took care of him. A letter written 
 from Chentu in December, 1909, well describes 
 the present situation as follows: "The youth 
 of the West are being educated for future use- 
 fulness. Extensive plants for housing boys who 
 have no particular vocation have been con- 
 structed. They are, in fact, large industrial 
 schools over which broods the military spirit. 
 A boy beggar is a stranger in Chentu, and boys 
 idling about the streets are few." 
 
 Other cities tributary to Chentu, fired by its 
 example, were not slow in following suit, and 
 when in the summer of 1909 the writer toured 
 the Chentu plain, visiting the walled cities
 
 IN'CEXSE BURNER. 
 
 Grainger, photo.
 
 113 
 
 scattered about it, beggars were scarce and hard 
 to find. In many places they did not seem to 
 exist. Even at Lu Jo, situated more than two 
 hundred miles aw^ay on the Yangtze river, the 
 same system was in process of being established. 
 The writer is aware that exception may be 
 taken to the above statements on account of the 
 blind fiddlers to be seen wandering the streets. 
 I am perfectly well aware of their existence and 
 also know that many of them are frauds, but 
 there is as much difference between them and 
 the old-fashioned Chinese beggar as there is be- 
 tween daylight and dark. They do not impor- 
 tune, and their music is supposed to be a return 
 for anything which may be given. 
 
 In the United States some authorities hold 
 that the man without money, without visible 
 means of support, is entitled to occupy that por- 
 tion of the earth's surface lying between the 
 limits of high and low tide. Other authorities 
 deny this. In western China there is a place for 
 such a man ! 
 
 Another and still more important and far- 
 reaching change is that which has come over 
 the educational system. Who has not heard of
 
 114 
 
 the old system and the famous examination 
 hails at the provincial capitals? — long rows of 
 cells in which the contestants were immured 
 during the tri-ennial examinations; success 
 meaning that the candidate was eligible for the 
 still higher tests held at Peking. 
 
 The old system of education was analogous 
 to that which Tom Brown received at Rugby 
 and Oxford. Just as Tom Brown was famil- 
 iarized with the classics of Rome and Greece, 
 and taught to compose both prose and poetry 
 in those languages, so was the educated Chinese 
 given a mastery over the classics of his country 
 and taught to compose both prose and poetry 
 in the classical Chinese, which differs almost as 
 much from the language of the common people 
 as does Latin from English. Just as Tom 
 Brown looked down on the plumber and re- 
 garded him as uneducated man, while realiz- 
 ing that he possessed a technical knowledge of 
 his trade, so did the old-fashioned Chinese look 
 down on the foreigner with his knowledge of 
 modern languages, science and the mechanical 
 arts. However, the literati of China had one 
 advantage over Tom Brown in that the classics
 
 115 
 
 which they studied were filled with the great 
 moral teachings of the Chinese philosophers, 
 while the English student was familiarized 
 with the ribald poetry of Horace. 
 
 Since the suppression of the Boxer outbreak, 
 the entire system of private study and tri-ennial 
 examinations has been done away with. In 
 many places the old rows of examination cells 
 have been torn away and have been replaced 
 with modern schools. Such was the case at 
 Chentu, capital of the province in which 
 the writer was located. In the very heart of the 
 city lies a walled enclosure about half a mile 
 long. The wall is enormously heavy in front 
 where it is pierced by three great tunnel-like 
 entrances. This was probably once the abode of 
 the Kings before Kubla Khan conquered the 
 province as related by Marco Polo. Ever since 
 those days it has been dedicated to official uses. 
 To-day, it is literally filled with government 
 schools. Some of these are industrial, others 
 normal, others hard to classify. One would 
 imagine such an area would hold all the re- 
 formatory and educational institutions for 
 which there would be any need in the city, but
 
 SERVANT AXIJ POLICEMAN. 
 
 Spragnc, photc
 
 117 
 
 as a matter of fact there are many more in other 
 quarters. To adequately describe them all 
 would fill a volume. The writer has no inten- 
 tion of trying to do anything more than touch 
 upon the subject here. Suffice it to say that the 
 new system of secondary and higher education 
 recognizes the value of a knowledge of modern 
 languages and science. In all of the more im- 
 portant cities of the eighteen provinces, it has 
 provided for middle schools at which those 
 subjects are commenced. These are supple- 
 mented by Provincial Colleges located at the 
 capitals, where the work begun in the Middle 
 Schools can be carried further. Wherever he 
 went in Western China, the writer found the 
 Middle Schools, frequently in cities whose size 
 would hardly seem to warrant their presence, 
 and it was everywhere evident that the public 
 took a pride and an interest in them. In one 
 city, a great official yamen had been given up 
 by a high mandarin and had been transformed 
 into the city's Middle School. In other places, 
 temples possessing valuable sites had been uti- 
 lized. In every case the name of the school was 
 blazoned forth in enormous characters to ad-
 
 118 
 
 vertise the fact that the city possessed one. 
 The writer inspected many of these institutions 
 throughout the province, and ever found them 
 neat and adequate. Their equipment is always 
 after the same pattern — dormitories, study halls 
 and lecture rooms. The latter would frequently 
 be a credit to an American college. It is only 
 in a few of the higher institutions of learning — 
 colleges and normal schools located at Chentu — 
 that laboratories have been installed. 
 
 But the greatest change of all is that with re- 
 spect to opium. In former days an account of 
 travel in China which did not mention the drug 
 was like the play of Hamlet with Hamlet left 
 out, so important a feature was it in the life of 
 the nation. Globe trotters have exhausted their 
 stocks of adjectives in describing the glory and 
 gorgeousness of the fields of the opium poppy. 
 Of the province in the heart of which the 
 writer was located was written, "It is the seat 
 of opium culture in China, patches of poppies 
 flaunting in the gorges, and great plains and 
 valleys above ablaze with the seductive flowers 
 which furnish three-fourths of China's opium." 
 
 When Mrs. Bishop was approaching Chentu,
 
 119 
 
 she wrote, "Waves of color on slope and plain 
 rolled before the breeze. Houses were almost 
 submerged by the colored billows. Far and 
 near, along roads and streams, round stately 
 temples and prosperous farm-houses, rippled 
 and surged these millions of corollas." 
 
 In every book on China appeared such head- 
 ings as, "Thousands of opium victims annually." 
 "Opium victims must die." "Opium cures and 
 asylums." "Missionaries' opium refuges." "Im- 
 possible for Chinese to resist the subtle fascina- 
 tion of the drug." "China's darkest cloud." 
 
 But when the writer arrived at Chentu, Jan- 
 uary 1st, 1909, the imperial edict had gone 
 forth that the cultivation of opium must cease, 
 and cease it did. Not everywhere at once, but 
 soon nevertheless. The month before, every 
 opium shop in the city had been closed by the 
 officials. During my entire stay in western 
 China, I never once saw a field of the poppy. 
 While that province was slower than any other 
 province as regards making rigid enforcement 
 of the edict, yet the reports from all sources in 
 1910 prove that the opium culture is a thing of 
 the past. This shows what power the officials
 
 A COUNTRY HOME. 
 
 Sprague. pholo.
 
 121 
 
 have when they choose to exert it in a country 
 where the citizens are not allowed to own fire- 
 arms. Their method is — first to educate the 
 people by means of printed proclamations as 
 to the desirability of any reform, and then to 
 remove temptation from their path. In the case 
 of the opium, if any farmer tries to raise a field 
 of the poppy, soldiers are sent to uproot the 
 crop. 
 
 But to say that the importation and use of the 
 drug has entirely ceased would be a fabrication. 
 In the early months of 1910, it was no unusual 
 sight on the principal highway in western 
 China to see strings of more than one hundred 
 coolies carrying opium imported from British 
 India up the country. Nevertheless, conditions 
 have so changed that foreign residents of that 
 province have told me that they were afraid 
 to describe conditions as they existed three years 
 before, for fear their statements would sound 
 absolutely incredible to one who had only seen 
 the situation as it is to-day. 
 
 We have been accustomed to consider China 
 as the stand-still kingdom, the do-nothing king- 
 dom, the land where the people are wedded to
 
 122 
 
 the ways of their forefathers from which they 
 will not depart. But after residing in the coun- 
 try, the writer began to doubt whether conser- 
 vatism is any more natural to the Chinaman 
 than it is to the average European. Indeed, it 
 would be easy to cite instances which would 
 seem to indicate the contrary. Permit me to 
 illustrate. I have told how the Chinese estab- 
 lished a steam passenger service over that por- 
 tion of the upper Yangtze which lies between 
 the former head of steam navigation and the 
 great commercial city of western China, Chung- 
 king, and how at the time of my departure a 
 steamer was flying back and forth over the five 
 hundred mile stretch as smoothly and swiftly 
 as the shuttle of a sewing machine. Before 
 leaving Ichang, I met a Chinese official who 
 was waiting there the few days that must elapse 
 before the steamer left on its next regular trip 
 up the river, intending of course to travel by 
 that conveyance. And yet, on the day before, a 
 party of English naval officers had started up 
 the Yangtze in the old-fashioned house-boats, 
 which would consume a month in reaching their 
 destination; vessels as antiquated as Noah's ark.
 
 123 
 
 In other words, the Chinese were ready and 
 quick to adopt the new, expeditious method of 
 travel as soon as it was available, while the for- 
 eigners clung obstinately to the old style, shut- 
 ting their eyes to the fact that it had been 
 superseded. 
 
 While the writer is not positively informed, 
 it is safe to say that the steamer completed two 
 round trips before the officers reached Chung- 
 king. Twice they met the steamer descending, 
 twice they saw it pass them bound up stream. 
 It is barely possible that, by the second time 
 they saw it glide on and leave them, they had 
 lost some of their conservatism. 
 
 Another case of ultra-conservatism on the 
 part of the foreign resident in China comes to 
 mind. A few days before the incident above 
 narrated, a party of missionaries had started up 
 the river for western China. Their leader was 
 an old fellow known as Dr. Wilson, w^ho had 
 been in that country I don't know how long, 
 but had been away on furlough two years. 
 When starting up stream, he had insisted on 
 taking his silver with him in the form of ingots, 
 instead of the more convenient dollars which
 
 A SHADY LANE. 
 
 Sprague, photo.
 
 125 
 
 are now universally current in that country. 
 He was told by the Ichang missionaries that 
 the ingots were out of date and that he had 
 better take dollars, but the obstinate fellow in- 
 sisted that because, when he first went to Chen- 
 tu, dollars were not current there, such must 
 still be the case, and he departed up the river 
 with his lump silver. Even the missionary 
 who told the writer the incident, a person of 
 the most solemn, stupid type, could not help 
 cracking a wooden grin at the old man's ex- 
 pense. 
 
 I have told how beggary has been almost 
 suppressed in western China, but in the for- 
 eign settlement at Shanghai, a city entirely in 
 the hands of Europeans and Americans, and 
 governed by a municipal council from which 
 Chinese are rigorously excluded, the old-fash- 
 ioned Chinese beggar still wanders about the 
 streets. If you enquire why they are allowed, 
 you will be solemnly told that the beggars' 
 guild would not permit otherwise. Only a per- 
 son who knows what a Chinese beggar is like 
 can fully appreciate the unconscious humor of 
 the reply.
 
 126 
 
 Reports of China's awakening have been 
 coming in from many sources during the last 
 few years, and the writer has tried to sum 
 things up, but has really only been able to 
 touch a few points. Fifty years ago, Japan 
 was more backward than China. Since then, 
 the Chinese have seen the Japanese raise them- 
 selves until they rank in arts, arms, and science 
 with the leading nations of the world. The 
 Chinese ask, "Why cannot we do the same?" 
 However, don't imagine that you would find 
 yourself in a modern nation, were you to visit 
 the Celestial empire. The country is still in- 
 credibly primitive in most respects. While it 
 is true that railroads are building, as yet they 
 are few, and great sections of the empire 
 possess none. Ofif of them, man is the beast of 
 burden. Many of the innovations which the 
 Chinese are introducing become so Chinesi- 
 fied in the process that they seem more curious 
 to an American than the things which they sup- 
 plant. Many marvelous changes have come 
 over that country in the last few years, but it is 
 still China and always will be.
 
 127 
 
 POSTSCRIPT 
 
 After one has passed through a series of 
 novel and surprising experiences, memory 
 loves to recall them and dwell upon them. 
 Even now, when I sit and doze before the fire, 
 visions of old Chentu days rise before me. Per- 
 haps I dream of the city in summer, when the 
 principal thoroughfares are roofed over with 
 thick mats to protect them from the fierce rays 
 of a semi-tropical sun, until they are trans- 
 formed into dim shady tunnels where the 
 thronging natives come and go, and bearers of 
 burdens wearily wend their way, while on 
 either side the wares of the merchants are 
 ranged in their open-fronted shops so that the 
 scene resembles a great bazaar. 
 
 Again, the vision changes, and I seem to be 
 wandering through the shady precincts of 
 some gloomy old temple, where tall feathery 
 bamboos nod and sway in the passing breeze, 
 and dark funereal pines stand guard, and
 
 128 
 
 monstrous idols, gaudy with gilt and lacquer, 
 gaze solemnly back at the curious visitor from 
 the western world. The incessant beating of 
 the drum, and the hollow boom of the great 
 bronze bell, betoken the fact that the priests 
 are gathered at their devotions. 
 
 Then I rouse myself, and it seems that these 
 recollections are but dreams. It seems impos- 
 sible that any cities exist in which the honk of 
 the automobile, the clang and whirr of the elec- 
 tric car, are not heard. It is impossible that I 
 ever passed through any such experiences. 
 They must belong to "such stufif as dreams are 
 made of," and I dismiss them from mind. But 
 before they fade from memory altogether, I 
 have embodied some of them in the preceding 
 narratives, and now place them before the pub- 
 lic. I trust .hey have sufficient novelty to com- J^ 
 mend them to the general reader. 
 
 Com- 
 ding, 
 weai 
 an? 
 vlth
 
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