WE PAY OFF SHUKR ALI—LANCHEO TO CHONG WEI—OFFICIAL INCIVILITY—LOSE
RUBY—SHAHZAD MIR MISTAKEN FOR A REBEL.
Soon after daybreak on the 25th October we bade farewell to the
missionaries, and, accompanied by Ridley and Rijnhart, made our way
to the inn on the far side of the river, from which our carts were to
start, and in which our men had slept the previous night. Our baggage
was now of the most miscellaneous description, for in addition to the
instruments, clothes, and flowers which we had brought with us, there
were the curios we had bought, and last, but not least, provisions of
bread, meat, vegetables, and butter for a seven days' journey across a
sandy desert country, where little could be bought, the inns providing
accommodation, but scarcely anything else.
We were determined not to starve any more, and made due preparations
to guard against doing so. To carry these numerous articles, as well
as ourselves and our men, we had engaged two carts, each drawn by a
mule and a pony. As when hiring baggage mules, so again now a regular
contract had to be drawn up and signed by the contracting parties. Our
agreement was that each cart was to carry 500 Chinese pounds, equal to
666 English pounds, including passengers, and to land us in Chong Wei
on the 31st October. There is also another and bigger sort of cart in
this part of China, which carries 1,200 pounds, and is drawn by three
animals, but it was not suited to our requirements.
[Illustration: THE ONLY WAY TO DRIVE IN NORTH CHINA.]
As usual in making a start, the first day there was considerable delay,
and even after everything was ready as far as we were concerned our
carters flatly refused to start till another party, consisting of
two officials—one military, the other customs-house—who were going to
Ning-Shia-Fu, were also prepared to make a move, and this was not till
just 11 A.M., some five hours after leaving the mission-house.
Our last care before starting was to pay off Shukr Ali, whom we were
sending back to Ladakh _viâ_ Yarkand. The inn which we were leaving for
Chong Wei was also the inn from which the carts make their departure
for Yarkand, so we arranged with the innkeeper that he was to keep Shukr
Ali until a caravan should be starting, leaving him a sum of money for
board and lodging, Ridley, moreover, very kindly promising to see that
the innkeeper did not defraud him or delay his departure.
Some months later we heard that Shukr Ali had arrived in Kashgar,
where he presented himself to the British Resident, Captain Macartney,
and coolly stated that he had been defrauded of a portion of his just
dues. He appears, however, to have omitted to mention the fact of his
desertion with the remainder of our flour, or any of his many sins
of omission and commission by which he had forfeited all claim to any
consideration. We did, indeed, send him Rs. 40 in answer to the appeal
of the Resident, but with a special request that he should be made to
clearly understand that he was in no way entitled to it. I can only hope
that this was done. Had it not been for the fact that his behaviour up
to the 2nd August was infinitely better than that of the other men, we
would certainly never have taken him back into our service.
The usual method of cart travelling in China is to make an early morning
start, to halt a couple of hours about midday, and then to go on till
sunset, or rather later; but as the animals travel at a walk the whole
time, the amount of ground covered is not very great—in fact, if you
manage to do forty miles in a day you may congratulate yourself on
having done well. Our first day's journey was only seventy li, or about
twenty-three miles, and then we halted for the night at Shui-Peh-Ho. The
following day, during our midday halt, we made the acquaintance of some
of our fellow-travellers, after which they generally used to come and
converse with us while we were having our meals, and occasionally made
themselves very entertaining. The road was dull and uninteresting in
the extreme, very rough and very sandy, which made the work uncommonly
hard for the animals; scarcely a sign of cultivation anywhere, except
just round the small groups of houses occasionally to be seen, which
seem to have no _raison d'être_, except to supply the wants of destitute
travellers, should any come along the road. In some places things are
so bad that the unfortunate people have to send several miles for their
water, but somehow the advisability of shifting to a more favourable
part of the country never seems to strike them.
One day the monotony of our journey was broken by a slight _fracas_
between the carters and ourselves, they having made up their minds to
stop for the day at 2 P.M., while we were equally determined that they
should go on another fifty li. Halting so early made it quite impossible
for them to land us in Chong Wei on the day they had agreed upon, but
this did not appear to affect them in the least, and threats of taking
them to the Yamen at Chong Wei were equally unavailing, so that I am
bound to confess that they fairly beat us, and we remained stuck in a
little village for the rest of the day.
On the 31st October, the day our cart journey should have ended, we were
woken up at 2 A.M., the carters saying they were in a hurry to start.
Nothing loth, we made a hasty breakfast, rolled up our blankets, and
made every preparation for departure. Our fellow-travellers moved off,
but there were no signs of our carts getting ready, so we went outside
to inquire what had happened to them, and were informed that one pony
had run away, and that the men had gone in search of it, so there was
nothing to do but to return to the inn and await events. Soon tiring
of this, I decided to stroll on ahead, never doubting that the others
would soon follow me in the carts.
The men had already gone on, so, taking Ruby with me, I set off down the
road, which soon developed into a succession of sand hills, with many
cart ruts in several places nearly two feet deep—anything but pleasant
walking in the dark. It did not take me long to catch up to the men,
but by this time I had been deserted by Ruby, the faithful companion
of so many days' travelling. This troubled me little at the time, as I
quite made up my mind that, not relishing the keen morning air, she had
returned to the inn to put in as much more sleep as possible.
After going about thirteen miles I came to a small village, where I
tried to get some bread, but my endeavours being unsuccessful, whether
owing to some flaw in my Chinese or not I cannot say, I decided to walk
on to the next place. On I went, following the cart tracks, which formed
an apology for a road, down the bed of a narrow stream, and between high
cliffs, till I at length emerged on the banks of what was undoubtedly
our old friend the Yellow River. I knew I could not be mistaken in this,
as there is no other river in this part of China with anything like
the same volume of water. The tracks led me along the left bank of the
river, till they eventually stopped abruptly at the water's edge. High
above me I could see a track across some forbidding-looking sand hills,
but to reach it one had a difficult piece of ground to negotiate which
was utterly impracticable for carts. I knew there was no other road
by which the carts could go, and, as far as I could see, there was no
possibility of their getting any further. It was now about midday. We
were all very hungry, and quite at a loss what to do, so, in default of
any better plan, I made up my mind to wait where I was till Rijnhart
and Malcolm should arrive; so, choosing a shady spot, I lay down, and
was soon fast asleep.
It was about 5 P.M. when I woke, refreshed by sleep, but still very
hungry, and anxious for the arrival of the carts, which, however, were
nowhere to be seen; but just as it was getting dusk, a boat came round
a bend of the river, being dragged up the far side by sturdy Chinamen.
They went a short distance further up the river than where I was, and
then dropped across to my side. This was evidently a ferry-boat, and
was in the habit of meeting carts and travellers at intervals during
the day, so, feeling sure it was certain to take me somewhere, I got
on board with the men, expecting to be ferried across to some village
on the far side, which was hidden by the curve of the bank, but to
my astonishment we went straight down the river, about half a mile.
Here the boat stopped, and out we all got. The boatmen moored the boat
for the night, and then started off across some fields. I followed in
silence, wondering what the upshot of it all was likely to be. There
I was, a stranger in a strange land, destitute of money and food, and
quite unable to speak the language, or make myself understood except
occasionally by signs. And in this Shahzad Mir, Esau, and Lassoo, were
of no help; they were indeed only extra mouths to feed, and no money to
do it with. After walking about half a mile we came to a small group of
houses, and one of the boatmen, a good sort of fellow, made signs for us
to follow him into one of them. Here we found an old lady, evidently his
wife, and to our great delight our demands for "momo" (bread) and "tsa"
(tea) were promptly complied with. We had indeed fallen upon our feet,
for in addition to these luxuries the room was clean and comfortable,
but all efforts to make our host and hostess understand that we would
like some eggs availed us nothing. Even when we all four sat in a row,
each making the noise he imagined was most like a laying hen, our object
never dawned upon them, and at last, when it became obvious that they
thought this was only our way of enjoying ourselves, we gave up in
despair and went to sleep.
[Illustration: ON THE ROAD FROM LANCHEO, CHINA.]
Next morning, after more bread and tea, I went out and anxiously looked
up the river for signs of the ferry-boat or the carts, but nothing
occurred till about midday, when the carters arrived leading their
animals, and now, for the first time I really grasped the meaning of
the abruptly ending cart road, the steep track over the sand hills, and
the ferry-boat. The carts are dragged down as far as possible by the
animals, which are then unharnessed, led up the steep cliff and across
the sand hills down to the village in which I had passed the night, and
in the meanwhile the carts are shipped on to the ferry-boat and brought
down until the road again becomes fit for wheeled traffic.
Soon after Rijnhart and Malcolm arrived with the carts in the boat,
which this time came right down to the village, but, to my great sorrow,
Ruby was not with them, nor had they seen her. It certainly seemed
hard that, after travelling so many miles, she should be lost when
comparatively near the goal. It appeared that the pony had not returned
the previous morning till nearly seven, and that the carters had again
struck work and insisted on stopping for the night at the village
through which I had passed after my unsuccessful attempt to get bread.
They had said that they could not possibly get to the ferry that night,
and that, as they had no intention of sleeping in the open, they would
go no further.
However, now that we were all united, our first care was to start off
the men in the carts for Chong Wei, while we got a raft for ourselves to
take us down the river. The whole party was in motion again by 2 P.M.,
and about half an hour before sunset we got down to our landing place,
a sort of coal wharf about two miles from the city of Chong Wei.
We had previously agreed with our carters to go to a certain inn in
the east suburb, so we made our way there as quickly as possible,
expecting the carts to come in before night. In this, however, we were
disappointed, but it was a matter of indifference to us, as our men had
plenty of money and were perfectly safe. The innkeeper made us a capital
supper of mutton and rice, and while we were discussing it, a Chinaman,
who turned out to be an agent for one of the wool firms, with that easy
familiarity characteristic of the race, came in and gave us all the news
of the place; and from him we learnt that there was another foreigner
living near the west gate of the city, so we made up our minds to visit
him in the morning and find out the best way of getting on to Pao T'eo.
CHONG WEI.
Soon after daylight the next morning we started off to the wharf, where
the wool boats lie while taking in cargo, in hopes that we might be able
to get a passage in one as far as Ning-Shia-Fu or Shih-Tsui-Tsi, or,
failing in that, that we might be able to hire a boat for ourselves. In
this we failed, the prices asked being absolutely prohibitive, and we
also learnt that another and hitherto unthought-of danger was staring
us in the face, and that was that it was quite possible that the river
would freeze below Shih-Tsui-Tsi in a very few days, in which case we
should have to make a tedious camel journey through the Ordos country
to Pao T'eo, by no means a pleasant look-out in the wintry weather that
was now coming on; but as a set-off against this we heard that Messrs.
Forbes & Co., the wool merchants, whose agent we had met at Tankar, had
an office just opposite the inn in which we were lodging, and that very
possibly they might be able to help us on our journey.
[Illustration: STREET IN THE TONG KUAN (E. SUBURB), CHONG WEI,
YELLOW RIVER.]
With this information to cheer us we rushed back to the town and
into Forbes's office, where we found all the agents and principal men
discussing a hearty breakfast, of which they invited us to partake, but
we refused, contenting ourselves with tea, without which no business or
pleasure can be conducted in China. As soon as breakfast was over, the
two senior agents turned their attention to our wants. After examining
our credentials, consisting of the two letters from our old friend
Chen-Lao-Pan, they told us that they would do all they could to help
us, and that, as they had a boat starting on the next day but one, they
would arrange for passages for ourselves, our men, and 500 pounds of
baggage. In this we were to be taken to Shui-Tsui-Tsi, where we would
find another of their agents, who would doubtless do his best to help
us on, either by river or by land. In return we were to pay the sum of
12,000 cash, an exorbitant sounding sum, but one which represents in
English money about £1 15_s._ As an alternative route we might have
gone by carts as far as Ning-Shia-Fu, and thence by boat, camels, or
other means to Pao T'eo; but after mature consideration we came to the
conclusion that the water journey would be the more convenient, and
probably the more speedy, so closed with their offer at once.
This was a good morning's work, and we crossed the street to breakfast
in our inn, almost as hungry as we had been in Tibet. We were followed
immediately into the yard by our carts and servants, so, to save any
bother, we paid the former off at once, and, such is the cheek of the
Chinese carter, they grumbled at not getting wine money in addition
to the full amount of Ts. 19, for which they should have landed us
in Chong Wei two days sooner than they actually had. The altercation
thus caused collected rather a crowd, who were far from being as civil
as those we had hitherto met—in fact, Chong Wei was the only place
in China where we experienced any inconvenience from the inquisitive
objection to foreigners of which one hears so much; but had it not been
for Rijnhart we might have got into serious trouble here, as will be
seen later. One man among the crowd demanded to see our cards, stating
that he was a messenger from the Yamen, and that he had been sent down
officially. Rijnhart promptly demanded the big man's card as a proof
of _bona fides_, knowing full well that no Chinese would ever send
a messenger on an errand like this without this mark of respect. On
his failure to produce it, Rijnhart refused to give up ours, and how
right he was became evident when we found our friend to be nothing but
a street loafer. Had we been in the hands of an ordinary interpreter,
we might have acceded to this demand, and thus become an object of
ridicule to all the bystanders. The crowd now saw that one at least of
the party was well acquainted with Chinese customs, and mended their
manners accordingly, their behaviour being still further improved on the
arrival of one of Mr. Forbes's agents, who had a few remarks to make.
Nevertheless, though no longer offensive, we had to place Shahzad Mir
near the entrance to our apartment to prevent them crowding too close
round while we were eating.
On some occasions our worthy guard was called away from his post for
another purpose, when the inquisitive crowd would at once take advantage
of his absence, and a mass of peering faces would obscure all the
air and nearly all the light from the door of our little room. A toe
over the threshold invited a rap from one of our sticks, but still we
required more ventilation and adopted a plan and a surprise quite novel
to the Chinaman. Seizing a tumbler full of water, either Malcolm or
I would fling the contents on them, and at the same time laugh right
merrily, and, although annoyed at the time we could not help doing this
at the result. The crowd at once dispersed on every side; those who had
been unfortunate in getting a wetting at first became enraged, but those
who had escaped were only too glad to join us in our chaff against their
fellow-countrymen. Had we put on a serious mien all would have united in
abusing us and we should never have enjoyed a moment's breathing space.
The only time we really found peace was at dusk, when the innkeeper
closed the big gates of the yard, and only those living at the inn were
allowed inside. We wished that dusk had reigned during the whole of our
stay at Chong Wei.
Breakfast over, Rijnhart and I started to find out the foreigner of
whom we had heard the previous night, and also to pay a visit at the
Yamen, where I thought I might be able to get some further information
about our journey to the coast. In this, however, I was unsuccessful,
and a very few moments sufficed to show me that any incivility shown
to foreigners would certainly not incur the disapproval of the Yamen.
Our reception was very different from anything we had experienced at
any of the other Yamens. My visiting card, a brilliant crimson piece of
paper, with my name in black Chinese characters, was the same size as
that used by generals and others of equal rank, _i.e._, nearly a foot in
length, and had hitherto always commanded respect, but was here treated
with contempt, the doorkeeper refusing to take it in to the mandarin,
while the crowd kept insolently jostling and shoving against us. Even
my passport, elsewhere a regular "open sesame," in which I was referred
to in the most flattering terms, was of little good; and even when
we were finally admitted it was not into the presence of the big man
himself, but only of his head clerk, who did not even offer us chairs,
but adopted a tone of insolence such as only a Chinese jack-in-office
can.
Rijnhart was equal to the occasion, and soon showed him that his
arrogant tone did not impress us with a sense of his importance as
he had doubtless hoped it would do; but seeing that nothing was to be
gained by stopping there, we left as soon as we possibly could, and went
in search of the foreigner. We had no difficulty in finding out his inn,
and most highly surprised and delighted he appeared at seeing us. It was
evident from his surroundings that he had been living a very solitary
life and was practising the strictest asceticism; luxury there was none.
It soon turned out that he and Rijnhart were old acquaintances, having
landed in China about the same time, and thus the ice was speedily
broken, and I quickly learnt that our new friend's name was Mr. Lumberg,
that he was a Swede, and belonged to that branch of the International
Mission Alliance. He had been some months in Chong Wei trying to open
a mission station, but so far, owing to the opposition of the Yamen,
he had not been very successful. He was very anxious to hire a house,
but, although many of the townspeople were willing to let, the Yamen
people secretly but effectually stopped them doing so, at the same time
assuring Mr. Lumberg that they were doing all they could to help him,
even going so far as to put up notices in public places proclaiming
his wants. The petty official of Chong Wei was thus able to gratify his
personal spite against foreigners while guarding against the displeasure
of his superior at Lancheo, a man well known to be favourably disposed
towards them.
When we returned to our inn, Lumberg accompanied us, and eventually
we persuaded him to send for his bedding and spend the night with
us. It was now, for the first time, that we heard what a hornet's
nest Mr. Littledale had raised by his remarks before the Royal
Geographical Society, about sending unprotected Swedish girls to live in
out-of-the-way parts of China. Well meant as these remarks undoubtedly
were, the Swedes considered that his object was to strike a blow at
their missionary enterprise, and when the matter was taken up by the
Swedish Government, it roused a feeling of resentment that will not
die out for some time, and which, in some cases, seemed to extend to
the whole race of Englishmen. Although we were invariably treated with
the greatest hospitality, one could not help seeing that this feeling
existed. From the accounts we heard, it certainly seemed as though these
remarks were a little unnecessary, and certainly not one of those ladies
of whom Mr. Littledale spoke with such sympathy has ever thanked him for
it. We were assured that unmarried girls were never sent to out-stations
alone, but were invariably sent to live with a married couple, and every
precaution taken to guard them from any danger. At the same time, there
is no doubt that Mr. Littledale's intention has been misunderstood, and
could this misunderstanding be cleared up, I think it would be all for
the better.
[Illustration: OUR INN AT CHONG WEI.]
That evening, while walking in the streets, accompanied by Shahzad Mir,
an incident occurred, which, but for Rijnhart's shrewdness and knowledge
of the Chinese, might have landed us in a row. Shahzad Mir was dressed
in semi-European clothes, and being an unmistakable Mohammedan, some of
the people jumped to the conclusion that he was a "Salar" in disguise.
No sooner had this idea been started than it spread rapidly. A crowd
collected, and began following us, shouting excitedly. We quickened
our pace slightly, and told Shahzad Mir not to get separated from us.
The crowd and shouting gradually increased, and things were looking
awkward, when, seizing his opportunity, Rijnhart suddenly turned round
and addressed the crowd, saying that he knew for certain that Shahzad
Mir had been travelling for six months since he left his home, and that,
as the Salars lived comparatively close by, he could not possibly be
one of them. This pacified them for a bit, and while they discussed the
probability or otherwise of Shahzad Mir being a Salar we quickly left
the city and turned into the suburb, which was comparatively quiet; and
the only result of the disturbance was that our faithful Duffadar was
confined to the inn during the remainder of our stay in that place,
while we ourselves never entered the city itself unless accompanied
either by Lumberg or Rijnhart.