Stoned--Thirteen hours in my saddle--Marshy country--A comfortable
separate room--Sickening smell--“Only” dead of smallpox--In a
drenching rain--Women in all their finery--Deformed feet--A miserable
hamlet--The obstinate donkey and the hole-man--The highway from Pekin
to Kalgan--A fine stone bridge--Numerous towers--Fire signalling--The
Great Wall at Cha-tao--The gate of Tziun-kuan--Stockinged
pigs--Caravans--The Nankao Pass--The Ming tombs--The avenue of
gigantic animals--Our last halt--Unsanitary regulations--A festive
village--Fishing.
We quickly descended the hillside, and when we were some distance down
I perceived a young bonze come out of the monastery by a back way and
run by a short cut towards the village of Tkou-fo-pu, probably to
incite the natives against us. Half an hour later, in fact, when we
traversed the village, we were met by a very rowdy crowd and subjected
to all sorts of insults, stones being fired (with considerable
accuracy) at us.
We forced our way through without receiving any serious injury, and
by the same road we had followed on the outward journey reached
Sheu-men-tzu late that same night. From this point I deviated from
my former route, and travelled in a north-easterly instead of a
south-easterly direction. We covered great distances every day.
Thirteen hours in our saddles brought us from Sheu-meu-tzu to our next
halting-place, Fan-shan-pu, a somewhat tedious ride, with no exciting
incidents. We went through a curious gorge past Ouang-kia-yao, lined
all along with willow-trees. The villages of Tasie-yao, Mie-tchan, and
Tie-na were of no very great importance or interest, but Kiem-tsuen
was quite a large and handsome town. Then we passed the marshes of
Chang-chui-mo, which were picturesque enough, with willows growing to a
very great height, and further on the village of Chia-chonei-mo came in
sight.
We spent the night at Fan-shan-pu. The inn at this place was large,
and I was given a comfortable separate room. My two friends were in
the next. The stench which came in gusts was so appalling that I
became quite sick, and when I remonstrated with the innkeeper he said
something was wrong with my nose; he could not smell anything. Sleeping
outside was not possible, as it came on to rain heavily. All the other
rooms were occupied. During the night the odour became so unbearable
that I proceeded to investigate its origin. With a lighted candle I
went out, and, sniffing about, made sure that it came from the next
room to mine, on the opposite side to that where the Frenchmen were,
and which I had been told was occupied by three Chinese. I knocked at
the door, left half opened, and receiving no answer pushed the door
open with my knee while I held my nose tight with my hand. I raised
the candle, and behold! there were indeed three Chinese occupying it,
but they were dead, and had evidently been so for some days. They were
in the last stage of decomposition, their faces and hands black, and
a mass of moving worms. The landlord, summoned in due haste, quietly
replied that they had “only” died of smallpox, and had been there eight
days. He was waiting for an order from an absent mandarin to have them
removed.
[Sidenote: TRAP-HOLES]
Still traversing the country from south-west to north-east, in a
drenching rain, we visited the villages of Si-kou-ying, Hao-kwei-ying,
and Sang-yein. Here the women, dressed in all their finery, turned out
on their doorsteps to watch our arrival. Some looked quite attractive
with their vari-coloured silk jupons and trousers, only the deformity
of their stumpy feet, squeezed into tiny pointed shoes not longer
than three or four inches, detracted a good deal from their otherwise
graceful appearance.
Towards noon we reached Ya-lo-wan, on the banks of the Hung-ho River, a
miserable hamlet perched on a hill of yellow earth.
The river had to be waded. A Chinaman--a beggar, I thought--volunteered
to take animals and men safely across for a sum of money, for he warned
us that there were large holes in the river-bed, in which animals would
sink for certain should we cross without his aid. Well knowing the
trick these men have of digging large holes in the river-beds while
dry in summer, in order to extort money from timid travellers in other
seasons, I declined his services, and proceeded to lead my mules, not
right across the water to where the road began on the opposite side of
the stream--for these trap-holes are usually dug in places where unwary
travellers are likely to cross--but a few yards further up, landing
every one of my party safely on the other side, with the exception
of one donkey, who, like all the evil spirits of China, insisted on
crossing in a straight line in front of his nose. The result was that
when he was in mid-stream he sank into one of the holes, and, with the
weight of the load on his back, disappeared. Only the points of his
ears could be seen wagging out of the water. The hole-man, who had
eagerly been watching for this, sprang into the river to the rescue of
animal and load, for which he was duly rewarded.
We made the next halt at Houai-lai-shien, a fairly large town, 1653
feet above sea-level, and intersected by the highway from Pekin to
Kalgan, and thence to Siberia. A fine stone bridge is to be found just
beyond one of the gates. Three hours’ journey brought us to Yu-ling-pu,
and another hour to Paol-chan. Here we came to numerous towers similar
to those of the wall described at Tung-an-tzu, but no signs of a wall
joining these towers could be discerned, though in all probability even
these square structures were in olden days connected by an earthen
wall, or possibly even by a light stone wall. Many of these towers bore
the appearance of having been used for fire-signalling. Not far from
these we reached the Great Wall at Cha-tao, where walls and towers were
much larger than at any other place in China.
Cha-tao (1470 feet above sea-level) was situated on the semi-circle
described by the Great Wall between this point and Cha-san-ku. The
wall was double between these two points, and formed a kind of huge
semi-circular castle walled all round. The Great Wall of China was
extraordinarily well constructed, for, considering the centuries since
its erection, it was yet in marvellous preservation, except for the
roofs of towers that had fallen through. This particular portion of
the wall was enormously wide, and had a number of towers at short
intervals. It was quite an imposing sight, as it went up over the
barren slopes of the nearer hills and down on the other side, certainly
the most gigantic work of masonry in the world.
The gate of Tziun-kuan dates from the third moon of the first year of
Tzin-tai, but for actual beauty, to my mind, the Kin-youn-kuan gate
was superior. Its stone carvings, both under the archway and outside,
were magnificent.
[Sidenote: THE MING TOMBS]
As I was sketching the gate I saw a strange sight. A number of fat pigs
passed along the road, their feet clad in neat little socks to prevent
them getting sore while travelling long distances.
Through the above mentioned gates was the great highway from China
to Siberia. As we continued our journey we encountered thousands of
camels carrying tea to Siberia. Caravan after caravan went by, the
camel at the head of each dingling a monotonous bell, the drivers
perched on the hump, and now and then a quaint, long-legged baby camel
struggling along to keep up with its mother. It was curious to notice
how difficult it was for a camel to go up even a moderate hill. For
instance, ascending the Nankao Pass, a very gentle incline, seemed a
great effort for them.
We left the high road at Nankao, in order to visit the Ming tombs.
That of Yunloh was the handsomest; then the mausoleum to Chan-su-uen,
a simple but dignified structure in masonry and red lacquer, with
a double roof similar to a pagoda, was very attractive. The stone
gateway, surmounted by two animals, was graceful and simple. I must
confess disappointment with the “avenue” of gigantic stone animals
and figures, of which I had heard so much. To me they did not appear
gigantic at all; on the contrary, they seemed small, and sure enough
some of the animals, such as the elephant and camel, were smaller than
life-size.
Our last halt was made at Chang-ping-tchu. In the morning, as we left
the town under the city wall, we saw a number of bodies of men who
had died of starvation, and from the stench they had apparently been
left there some time. But the Chinese were never great at sanitary
regulations. Two or three were half buried under a pile of large
stones.
We crossed over the bridge to Cha-touen, a very festive village, where,
though early in the morning, a diabolical dramatic representation,
with accompaniment of excruciating music, was taking place in a large
outdoor theatre. The houses were decorated with paper flowers and
lanterns; undoubtedly one of the festivals of some kind, which are
innumerable in China, was going on.
As we followed the river course we were much interested in the skilful
way in which, by means of a small hand-net, the natives captured large
quantities of small fish, not unlike whitebait, and which my muleteer
pronounced delicious to eat.
Drawing nearer the capital the houses grew thicker, and the villages
and towns came in quick succession. The dusty highway was thronged
with people, camels, horses, mules, and donkeys, and now and then a
palanquin conveying a high official to or from the greatest centre of
the East. Coolies, with their huge conical hats, were running to and
fro with heavy loads of vegetables or merchandise, and everything was
life and business.
At sunset we entered Pekin by the north gate, thus ending my enjoyable
trip to the Trappists and the great Siao-ou-tai-shan.
[Illustration: EFFECT OF THE SHELLS OF THE ALLIES ON THE SOUTH WALL OF
TIENTSIN CITY]