CHAPTER V

CH'ÊNG-TU TO OMEI-HSIEN

My next objective after leaving Ch'êng-tu was the sacred summit of

Mount Omei, one of the most famous of the many historic mountains

of China. I left Ch'êng-tu on 1st March in a small, leaky, and most

uncomfortable craft, which took me down the Min river to Chia-ting

in four days, the total distance being slightly over 130 miles. The

Kuan-hsien sluices having not yet been opened to give the great plain

its spring flooding, there was very little water in the stream till

we reached Chiang K'ou[13] on the morning of the third day, and in

some places it was necessary to pull the boat over some mud shoals. At

Chiang K'ou the various subdivided waters (of which the branch that

brought me down from the east gate of Ch'êng-tu was one) reunite and

form a river which is broad and deep enough at all seasons of the year

for cargo-junks of a considerable size. This is the Min river, which,

as already stated, is regarded by the Chinese of central Ssuch'uan as

the true Upper Yangtse. The far greater but unnavigable stream which

rushes impetuously from the Tibetan mountains in the north-west and is

joined by the Min at Hsü-chou-fu,[14] is known by the Chinese for a

great part of its course as Chin Ho (Gold River) and as the Chin Sha

Chiang[15] (the River of Golden Sand). The name Min being apparently

unknown to the Chinese, Baber suggested that it had been invented

by the early Jesuit geographers.[16] If so, it was no doubt derived

from the range of mountains known to the Chinese as the Min Shan (岷山)

in the north-west of the province, for it is there that the river

rises. But all the rivers of China have a multitude of names; in fact

the Chinese do not appear to be endowed with a proper sense of the

continuity of rivers, and the country people who dwell on the banks of

a stream from which they derive their livelihood are seldom aware of

where it comes from or whither it goes. This circumstance has been a

source of embarrassment to many European travellers, whose passion for

geographical exactness is incomprehensible to the rustic mind in China.

The scenery of the Min is always picturesque. The river flows for the

most part through richly cultivated districts, broken only here and

there by low hills. Nearly opposite the town of P'êng-shan-hsien, on

the third day from Ch'êng-tu I visited a fine twelve-storied pagoda

(the So Chiang T'a or Lock-River Pagoda), which, unlike most buildings

of the kind, is in sufficiently good repair to enable one to ascend

it by a spiral staircase. The pagoda is built of hard brick and the

staircase is of sandstone blocks. The scenery on the river becomes

finer as one approaches Chia-ting. Well-wooded hills come close to the

water's edge, and broken cliffs covered with verdure reveal openings

into fairy vistas of greenery and mysterious grottoes that would have

delighted the soul of a Keats.

[Illustration: A CHINESE WALLED CITY. [_To face p. 44._]

[Sidenote: CHIA-TING-FU]

The town of Chia-ting, which I reached on the evening of 4th March,

is beautifully situated on the right bank of the Min, just above its

junction with the T'ung (more generally known as the Ta Tu) and Ya

rivers. From this point onwards the three streams flow in a broad,

navigable river for a distance of about 130 miles, when they join the

Yangtse at Hsü-chou-fu. My river-journey, however, ended at Chia-ting.

Apart from its proximity to the sacred mountain of Omei, Chia-ting

is interesting for its temples, its prehistoric cave-dwellings, its

sericulture, and for the white-wax industry. High on a rocky hill on

the left bank of the river is a remarkable monastery known as "The

Monastery of the Voice of the Waters." It was founded in the T'ang

dynasty, nearly twelve hundred years ago, and restored in 1667 by

the munificence of a Provincial Judge. It bears the alternative name

of "The Great Buddha Monastery," the reference being to a huge image

which has been carved out of the face of a cliff that overhangs the

waters of the Min. The story goes that a holy monk named Hai T'ung came

to this locality in the eighth century of our era and determined to

perform some act of religious devotion which would save the surrounding

country from the ruin and desolation caused by the overflowing of the

three neighbouring rivers. He therefore spent nineteen years in hewing

out of the rock an immense image of Maitrêya Buddha. The carving,

which is in bold relief, must have been a work of immense labour and

considerable danger; but its artistic merits are obscured by the

partial decomposition of the rock and the growth of vegetation in the

fissures. Parts of the body are almost indistinguishable. The whole

figure is about 386 feet high. An exceedingly steep and rather perilous

scramble down a cutting in the precipice enabled me to study the great

figure from various points of vantage, and also to inspect some little

rock-shrines containing innumerable small Buddhas. It is doleful to

reflect that in spite of Hai T'ung's piety and extraordinary industry

the three rivers have not yet ceased to cause periodical floods.

[Sidenote: MAN-TZŬ CAVES]

Amongst other objects of great interest in the monastic grounds are

some of the prehistoric cave-dwellings which were first described by

Baber. One of these caves, in close proximity to the monastery, has

been diverted from its original uses (whatever they may have been), and

is now a Buddhist chapel, with altar, bell, and images all complete.

These caves, of which there are many in the neighbourhood of Chia-ting

and a great quantity in other parts of what is known as the "Red Basin"

of Ssuch'uan, constitute one of the unsolved problems of Chinese

archæology. I visited several of them during the two days I spent at

Chia-ting, but am not in a position to add much to the information

already available, or to offer any novel theory regarding their

origin. The caves are entirely artificial, and have been hewn out of

the sandstone by people who were evidently skilful in the handling of

their tools. There is little evidence of a strong artistic instinct,

but it is curious to note that the decoration, such as it is, bears no

resemblance to any Chinese work, and seems rather of Hindu type. The

square or oblong doors are generally on the face of a cliff, and the

majority are at the present time quite inaccessible without the use

of ropes and ladders. In some cases the cliffs are honey-combed with

caves, the insides of which have never been trodden by human foot for

untold ages. Other caves, however, are quite easily accessible. The

interiors vary in details, but in general design they are alike. The

door leads into a long room, which is in most cases connected with

other rooms, and there are holes and grooves in the walls which show

that there must at one time have been wooden partitions. Within the

rooms, which are quite lofty and broad enough for human habitation,

there are cistern-like troughs, deep recesses, bench-like seats, and

projections that may have been used as shelves: all of which are hewn

out of the rock and remain immovable. No one can now say definitely

whether the caves were used as strongholds, as tombs, as houses or as

places of worship. Arguments may be adduced in support of each and

all of these theories. The inaccessibility of the majority of the

cave-apertures lends support to the stronghold theory. Perhaps they

were reached by temporary ladders which were drawn up on the approach

of an enemy. Possibly the enemies to be feared in those remote days

were wild beasts as well as human beings. The narrow rooms, with their

immovable stone coffers and shallow recesses, suggest mausolea; yet

the existence in some cases of fire-places (without chimneys) and

stone projections that were evidently intended to be sat upon are more

suggestive of dwelling-places. As regards the temple theory, all that

can be said is that some of the more accessible of the caves have been

turned into Buddhist shrines, as in the case already mentioned; but

there is no evidence whatever that they were originally intended for

religious purposes. On the whole, it seems probable that the caves

were actually used as the ordinary dwelling-places of a primitive

people that lived chiefly by hunting and fishing, had attained a fair

degree of civilisation and social organisation, and found themselves

in constant danger of attack by hostile tribes, perhaps Tibetans, by

whom--if not by advancing Chinese--they were eventually scattered or

exterminated.

[Sidenote: CAVE-DWELLERS]

All I propose to add by way of comment is this. In the _Journal_

of the Royal Asiatic Society for July 1904 and January 1906, Mr E.

Crawshay-Williams described some mysterious rock-dwellings which he

discovered at Raineh, in Persia. Now from his description of those

caves I gather that they must be exactly similar in situation,

size, and general appearance to those which we are now considering.

Unfortunately, neither the Raineh caves nor those of Ssuch'uan contain

inscriptions. Whether the resemblance is purely accidental or has some

deeper significance is a question which I leave to archæologists. It

might, if we had corroborating evidence, tend to show that regions

so far apart as Persia and the Min valley of Ssuch'uan were once

inhabited by allied races, perhaps of Indian origin. As we shall see

later,[17] there is, indeed, some reason to believe that the Chinese

cave-dwellers were connected with the Vaggians or Licchavis, a race

that attained to great political strength in the extreme north-east of

India, and which--according to one authority at least--is identical

with the Yüeh-chi.[18] The latter, however, who after their disastrous

defeats by the Hiung-nu on the confines of China in the second century

B.C. migrated to western Asia, never seem to have penetrated so far

west as Raineh in Persia. Their empire was founded on the ruins of

the Græco-Bactrian dominion in Sogdiana and on the left bank of the

Oxus, and their ambitions led them south rather than west. It may

be that future explorers will discover in other regions caves of a

similar pattern to those of Persia and China, and in that case it may

be possible to trace the migrations of the cave-dwellers and so find

a clue to their identification. The caves noticed by the abbé Huc on

the fringe of the Mongolian desert, and those that exist near the

Yamdok lake on the road to Lhasa[19] have not been described fully

enough to justify our drawing many deductions. The rock-cut caves on

the Murghab near the Afghan frontier, and those of Bamian close to

the Indian Caucasus on the road between Kabul and Turkestan,[20] have

many characteristics in common with those of Ssuch'uan, but appear to

have served only religious uses. Professor Parker has discovered in

the records of the T'ang dynasty (seventh to tenth century A.D.) what

appear to be references to the existence of a race of cave-dwellers in

Ssuch'uan as late as that time, and a further reference to cave-chiefs

(one of whom was named T'ien Shih Ch'iung) in records corresponding

to the year 1012 of our era.[21] But there is nothing to prove that

these were the descendants of the original cave-dwelling race, and the

probabilities are rather against their being so.

What the Chinese themselves say is that the caves were inhabited by the

"Man-tzŭ" in prehistoric times; but Man-tzŭ is a term which has a very

elastic meaning, for, as we shall see below,[22] it has been made to

embrace Tibetan border tribes, Lolos and "savages" generally. It must

reluctantly be admitted that until a proper archæological enquiry has

been made into the subject and the more inaccessible caves have been

thoroughly searched for relics, the only theory with which no fault can

be found is the illuminating one propounded by Baber. "My own theory,"

he said, "which I offer with diffidence, is that these excavations are

of unknown date, and have been undertaken, for unexplained purposes, by

a people of doubtful identity."

[Sidenote: CHINESE INNS]

On 6th March I set out for Omei-hsien, the little city that lies at

the foot of Mount Omei. The distance from Chia-ting is only about 16

miles, and was easily covered during the day. My retinue consisted of

three chair-bearers, three baggage coolies and a useless "boy" whom I

had picked up at Ch'êng-tu and hoped to get rid of as soon as I could

find a suitable man to take his place. The road led us over the river

Ya and across a great plain almost entirely occupied by myriads of the

dwarf ash-trees which are used in connection with the production of

the famous white wax. The wax-insects, which are brought annually in

baskets from the Chien-ch'ang valley south of the Ta Tu, are placed on

the branches of this tree, and in due time proceed to cover themselves

and the branches with a thick coating of the wax. The branches are

then cut off and the wax carefully removed. The whole process has been

carefully described by Sir Alexander Hosie in several Foreign Office

reports and in his _Three Years in Western China_.

The inns of Omei-hsien are unusually good, and as the pilgrim season

had not yet begun I was able to select the best quarters that the city

could provide. Western readers must not suppose that even the best of

Chinese inns would meet with commendation in England or America. If in

China I am shown into a room that has been moderately well swept, and

possesses a wooden floor which does not give way, and walls without

holes; that contains a steady table, an unbroken chair, a window

recently papered, and that does not smell too offensively of stale

opium; and if the room is not next door to the stables and opens into

a yard that is reasonably clear of garbage and filth, and is not the

common resort of peripatetic pigs and diseased dogs,--I then consider

that good fortune has brought me to an inn that may be described as

excellent. The furniture is, of course, in all cases of the simplest

description, the principal guest-room generally containing only a

table and a couple of chairs. The walls are either of bare stone or

brick, or of mere lath and plaster. Sometimes they are adorned with

a few hanging scrolls containing "antithetical couplets" or crude

paintings--probably New Years' gifts to the landlord from his "foolish

younger brothers." Washing-stands, dressing-tables and side-boards

and similar luxuries are unknown, and the bed consists either (in

north China) of a _k'ang_, which is built of bricks, or (in the warmer

regions) of a couple of planks placed on trestles. For several reasons

a camp-bed is to Europeans an indispensable part of even the most

modest travelling equipment. If such are the good inns, what is to be

said of the worst? Earthen floors saturated with damp and filth and

smelling of decaying refuse; windows from which the paper (glass being,

of course, unknown) has been torn away; tables which collapse under

the weight of the traveller's frugal dinner unless they are propped

up by his portmanteau and gun-case; roofs from which hang trailing

cobwebs spun by spiders of a vanished generation; walls of mud through

which the village urchins make holes by the simple pressure of their

grimy fingers; wicked-looking insects of uncouth shapes that issue at

night-time from a hundred gloomy lurking-places and crawl over the

edge of one's rice-bowl; an entire lack of means of illumination except

a single sputtering wick protruding from a saucer filled with rancid

oil: these are but a few of the more obvious discomforts of many a

Chinese hostelry. The inns of the large towns are with a few exceptions

no better than those of the villages, and often much less comfortable

on account of the greater amount of noise and dirt. As a rule it is

preferable, if possible, to complete a day's march at a village rather

than in a town; not only for the sake of quietness and peace, but also

because one is less likely to be disturbed by inquisitive crowds if one

ventures outside the door of the inn.

[Illustration: CHILDREN OF CHINA. [_To face p. 53._]

[Sidenote: OMEI-HSIEN]

The people of Omei-hsien, however, are unusually amiable. Many of them

earn their living by attending to the wants of pilgrims to the great

mountain, and vie with each other in their efforts to show civility

to the stranger within their gates. Not many Chinese venture to climb

Mount Omei so early in the year as March, as it is still covered with

snow for several thousand feet of its height; but I observed a large

number of Tibetan pilgrims on their way to and from the mountain,

and ascertained from them that there was no great difficulty in the

ascent. On the morning of the 7th March, therefore, I left my servant

(who was appalled by the mere shadow of the mountain) to look after my

baggage in Omei-hsien, and started the ascent in the company of the two

soldiers of my escort. The town of Omei-hsien lies at 1,500 feet above

sea-level: the summit of the mountain is about 9,500 feet higher.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] 江口.

[14] See Map.

[15] It will be observed by those acquainted with Chinese that here

and elsewhere I have, for the sake of uniformity, transliterated all

Chinese names according to the sounds of Pekingese, except in the case

of a few stereotyped words.

[16] It is used, however, in the official Annals of the province

(_Ssuch'uan T'ung Chih_).

[17] See chap. xv. p. 286 (note 1).

[18] S. Beal in the _Journal_ of the Royal Asiatic Society, January

1882, p. 39. His view does not seem to have attracted much attention.

[19] See Waddell's _Lhasa and its Mysteries_ (John Murray, 1905), pp.

289-290.

[20] See _Journal_ of the Royal Asiatic Society, January and July 1886.

[21] See _China Review_, vols. xv. and xix.

[22] See chap. xv.

From Peking to Mandalay A Journey from North China to Burma through Tibetan Ssuch'uan and Yunnan · 第 5 / 18 章