CHAPTER XI.INTER OCEAN CYCLISTS ENCOUNTER AN ASIATIC SHYLOCK—HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICTS WITH THE COOLIES IN SHAZE.On the eighth day of our trip from Hankow, Mrs. McIlrath contracted a severe cold, which impeded our progress and caused me great alarm. Much of the journey, on this account, had to be taken in sedan chairs. Our supply of tinned goods was also becoming low, the oil we carried for lubricating was gone, and Cunningham, as if to add his share to the chain of misfortune, displayed symptoms of malarial fever. As the only resort we changed our course in the interior and pushed toward the river, hoping to find some English steamer which might replenish our stores. A half day of waiting on the river bank, and a steamer hove in sight. The three of us hoisted signals, and I fired my pistols, but the steamer evidently did not see us, and steamed on up the river, displaying the English flag as she passed. Though not in such a serious predicament, our sensationswere similar to those of the shipwrecked sailor adrift on his raft as the solitary ship sails by, majestic to look upon, but to the castaway cruel and cold. As if in sympathy with our disappointment, the rain came down in torrents as the steamer disappeared from view, and we made our way to a settlement a few miles ahead. It was then necessary for us to cross the river, which we did, but in the most unexpected fashion. The lone ferryman must have been an Asiatic descendant of Shylock, or at least his demands so indicated, for he asked 300 cash to row us 100 feet. To convey the impression that we were not in such a great hurry to be ferried, we sat down upon the river bank and began munching some tasteless cakes which Mrs. McIlrath had purchased at a restaurant. The large boat of a mandarin was moored upon the opposite bank, the crew watching us intently, and the official himself peering at us from the curtained window of his cabin. We next observed the anchor of the boat drawn up and the craft making headway in our direction. Just what was the mandarin’s object in crossing we could not imagine. A plank was laid from the shore to his boat, and we were summoned on board. The silk-clad official received us politely, offering the customary tea. One of his crew, who knew a bit of English, interpreted to him that we desired to cross the river. In a moment our boat was moving, and we soon returned to the original mooring. It was almost too much to contemplate! For the first time we had been rescued from the exorbitant charges of a native by one of his own countrymen—a most unusual interference. Chinamen are very clannish, and seldom can they be induced to compete in prices when in trade among themselves, but never where a foreigner is concerned. Delaying only long enough to allow the mandarin to read my passports and to civilly refuse his invitation to remain on board his boat for the day and night, we landed and rode on our way.Ten miles of very fair path through short grass brought us to a gigantic rock arising from the plain like a great castle. Under its sheltering shelves we found a trio of fisher huts. We stopped at the largest of these and obtained permission to cook the food which we purchased from the fishermen, one of the many luncheons of its kind that we ate in China. We stopped only long enough for our repast before setting out for You Chow. Before reaching the city we had a fierce hand-to-hand conflict with a number of savage coolies, Cunningham being almost annihilated. He brought it on himself, however, by rapping across the knuckles an inquisitive Mongolian who had dared to feel his bicycle tire. At You Chow we were received in great ceremony by the mandarin himself, who placed guards at our disposal, and offered us every protection, going so far as to volunteersending men out to capture the natives who had assaulted us with clods and stones. The Tao Tai of the province visited us the next day to make changes in our passports. The Chinese map of China was produced, and by comparing it with the charts which we carried, I managed to show the official the route we had traveled since leaving Shanghai. One thing mystified me, I could not find You Chow on the native map, and after many efforts I succeeded in making myself understood. My breath was taken away when the official placed his finger upon the character indicating the city, and I learned for the first time that we were twelve miles from the Yang-Tse-Kiang and on the channel connecting with Tung Ting Lake. We had been lost the day before without knowing it. We had been in the dread province of Hunan, out of the territory permitted us to travel, and, worse than all, had put our heads into the lion’s jaws by coming into the very place where lawbreakers are confined. I explained my position to the Tao Tai as well as I could, and he seemed to comprehend it. The next morning, Thursday, May 21, he had us called, gave us new passports for the province of Hunan, and dispatched an escort of coolies to see us safely started upon the right road. The issuing of the passport to foreigners by a Tao Tai, when not compelled to do so by a Consul, was unprecedented, and especially in our case, when he could have weighted us with chains, trussed us up like pigs to a pole, and had us carted overland to Shanghai. Such treatment has been accorded foreigners repeatedly.It may seem strange to Europeans that the Chinese do not understand their own language when spoken by a native of some other province. Often in the short distance of twenty miles the dialect is entirely different. This fact I ascertained during our tour through Hupeh. The Shanghai resident is ignorant of the tongue of the Azecheun, and a Hupeh does not understand a syllable uttered by a native of Canton. The character used is the same when produced in writing, but the sound given it by the tongue is entirely different. Chinese also have the idea that natives from a distant province are not proper Chinamen. I asked a native of Hankow to interpret what a boatman was endeavoring in vain to say to me. My friend from Hankow made an effort, but gave it up in disgust.“Can’t you talk with your own people?” I asked, in amazement. “Can’t you understand a Chinaman?”“Chinaman,” he retorted, sharply; “he no belong Chinaman; he belong Ningpoo-man.”And Ningpoo is one of the principal ports of China.We had some difficulty and inconvenience in entering the city of Shaze, a city with a record of blood and crime unequaled to anyin the Empire. Little of its importance is known to foreigners, or in the coast cities, although it is one of the most important towns on the river between Hankow and Chung King. Possibly this is because Shaze has not a bund, club house, race track, or any of the other modern “conveniences” of a large city. Only recently, or since the Japanese-Chinese war, had it been open as a treaty port, and during my visit there, two years ago, it had but one consulate, the Japanese. It was shunned by strangers on account of its reputation for being extremely anti-foreign, the ruins of a magnificent Roman Catholic Cathedral, standing like a specter on the river bank just above the city, testifying to this prejudice. The reputation of the place caused us to be extremely chary about entering, though we finally accomplished our aim under unlooked for conditions. The shore opposite Shaze was sparsely settled, and I was correct in my conjecture that we could obtain shelter in some hut across the river. The farmer who accommodated us was an unusually kind and intelligent Chinaman. We were kept as his guests three days by rain. On the third day I dispatched a messenger to the Japanese consul at Shaze, but the answer received, written in Japanese characters, occasioned me great disappointment. “No room for you; proceed on your journey,” was the reply. I took this to be a Chinese trick, and accused the messenger of not visiting Shaze at all, but writing the characters himself. Later I learned that the letter had been taken to the Roman Catholic Mission by mistake. I returned the messenger to the city, and when he came back, an hour later, he was accompanied by a native, who brought me a letter which read:“May 26, Mr McIlrath, opposite Shaze, dear friends: We are received a letter with you and happy to say to you we are Christian Chinese and hope so are you. We have got good Chinese house in Shaze and hope you will come see us. And man will direct you to the right road to travel this side, and hope you will be happy to receive you. We are all Christians and hope so you are.Respectfully,S. Kwei.”The evident hospitality conveyed in the note caused us to overlook its ludicrous wording, and following without delay the “man,” we reached the water’s edge before we learned that he had failed to bring a house-boat with him. Directing him to return to his master, I gave him a second note, requesting that a craft be sent for us on the next day, and expressing our happiness at the prospect of visiting Mr. Kwei’s house. By noon the next day the Inter Ocean tourists were comfortably fixed in a well-appointed Chinese residence in Shaze, the guest of Mr. Kwei. We were detained in Shaze until Saturday, May 30, and during the time that we were the guests of our host we were dressed in the gaudy raiment of the wealthy Chinese. When we left Shaze it was upon a large house-boat, bound five miles above the city.The place scheduled for debarking appeared dangerous on accountof the presence of a wild-eyed, chattering mob of coolies, and I prevailed upon the captain to take us further. We traveled over night, and early Sunday morning were landed at a point which promised fair riding. We were then upon our last relay of 300 miles. Ichang was our destination, and we estimated from the point at which the boat had landed us that we would arrive in that city by June 1. There were many annoyances and encounters on the road, some of them serious, as, for instance, a hay knife thrown at Mrs. McIlrath by a laborer in a wheat field. The weapon fell short, and was caught in the spoke of Cunningham’s wheel. For the first time in our association did the little Englishman act promptly and correctly. He dismounted, and, picking up the hay knife, threw it far into the river. This act infuriated the Chinaman, who drew another knife, and calling to his friends, advanced toward us. To make a long story short, we “bluffed” the crowd with our pistols. The Chinese dread individuals who do not betray the rage they feel more than an entire regiment of blusterers. All of which reminds me of the well-known maxim that a “barking dog never bites.”When the Inter Ocean tourists reached Ichang they were half-way across China, with the record to their credit of 600 miles traveled through a country never penetrated by a foreigner before. Lenz, of whom I have previously spoken, followed the direct route from Shanghai, or what may be called the “telegraph line.” Morrison and other Englishmen made the passage by steamer from Shanghai, and Stevens crossed only from Canton to Kui Kiang, and thence to Shanghai by steamer. It took us twenty-one days to complete the journey, and so anxious had members of the European colony at Ichang become about us that, had we not arrived when we did, native couriers would have been dispatched the next morning to search the country for us. Our first stop in the city was at the postoffice, where I received the note from Mr. Hunter, a friend we had met at Hankow, announcing that he had arranged for us to stop at the American Episcopal Mission, and that to the Rev. H. C. Collins would be due the courtesy of entertaining us. The first day we spent in Ichang thoroughly acquainted us with the members of the community. There were scarcely thirty foreigners in all, but each seemed anxious to render our stay as pleasant as possible. We had picnics, tennis parties and dinners arranged in our honor, meeting many interesting characters, both native and European. One of these friends, Tseo Shoo Wen, an energetic, lively Chinaman, and a man one could well afford to win as a friend, was especially solicitous regarding our comfort and safety. Learning that we were to travel through the Yang-Tse-Kiang gorges by boat as far as Wan Hsien, Mr. Tseo offered us asescort a gunboat and lifeboat. We declined, however, as we had been asked to become the guests on the house-boat of Dr. Collins, upon which we departed from Ichang on June 15. Our route as nearly as possible was to go by boat to Wan Shien, thence overland to Chung King, Suifoo, Yunnan Foo Tali and Bahme, the trip by boat merely allowing us to see the beginning of the beauty of the marvelous gorges, and not in the least rendering our trip any less interesting. In fact, as the summer floods were expected daily, there was greater hazard at this time of year on the waterways than on land. We were thoroughly stocked with bedding and canned provisions sufficient for a ten days' trip. We were so fortunate as to secure as captain the same native who had piloted one of my friends, Dr. Morrison, up the river, and he had retained his own crew of five strong, competent boatmen. The evening prior to our departure a complimentary dinner was given in honor of Mrs. McIlrath, and on Monday, June 15, the “Defender,” as we called our boat, hoisted sail, and the Inter Ocean tourists left Ichang as they entered it, flying under the beautiful colors of the United States.
CHAPTER XI.INTER OCEAN CYCLISTS ENCOUNTER AN ASIATIC SHYLOCK—HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICTS WITH THE COOLIES IN SHAZE.On the eighth day of our trip from Hankow, Mrs. McIlrath contracted a severe cold, which impeded our progress and caused me great alarm. Much of the journey, on this account, had to be taken in sedan chairs. Our supply of tinned goods was also becoming low, the oil we carried for lubricating was gone, and Cunningham, as if to add his share to the chain of misfortune, displayed symptoms of malarial fever. As the only resort we changed our course in the interior and pushed toward the river, hoping to find some English steamer which might replenish our stores. A half day of waiting on the river bank, and a steamer hove in sight. The three of us hoisted signals, and I fired my pistols, but the steamer evidently did not see us, and steamed on up the river, displaying the English flag as she passed. Though not in such a serious predicament, our sensationswere similar to those of the shipwrecked sailor adrift on his raft as the solitary ship sails by, majestic to look upon, but to the castaway cruel and cold. As if in sympathy with our disappointment, the rain came down in torrents as the steamer disappeared from view, and we made our way to a settlement a few miles ahead. It was then necessary for us to cross the river, which we did, but in the most unexpected fashion. The lone ferryman must have been an Asiatic descendant of Shylock, or at least his demands so indicated, for he asked 300 cash to row us 100 feet. To convey the impression that we were not in such a great hurry to be ferried, we sat down upon the river bank and began munching some tasteless cakes which Mrs. McIlrath had purchased at a restaurant. The large boat of a mandarin was moored upon the opposite bank, the crew watching us intently, and the official himself peering at us from the curtained window of his cabin. We next observed the anchor of the boat drawn up and the craft making headway in our direction. Just what was the mandarin’s object in crossing we could not imagine. A plank was laid from the shore to his boat, and we were summoned on board. The silk-clad official received us politely, offering the customary tea. One of his crew, who knew a bit of English, interpreted to him that we desired to cross the river. In a moment our boat was moving, and we soon returned to the original mooring. It was almost too much to contemplate! For the first time we had been rescued from the exorbitant charges of a native by one of his own countrymen—a most unusual interference. Chinamen are very clannish, and seldom can they be induced to compete in prices when in trade among themselves, but never where a foreigner is concerned. Delaying only long enough to allow the mandarin to read my passports and to civilly refuse his invitation to remain on board his boat for the day and night, we landed and rode on our way.Ten miles of very fair path through short grass brought us to a gigantic rock arising from the plain like a great castle. Under its sheltering shelves we found a trio of fisher huts. We stopped at the largest of these and obtained permission to cook the food which we purchased from the fishermen, one of the many luncheons of its kind that we ate in China. We stopped only long enough for our repast before setting out for You Chow. Before reaching the city we had a fierce hand-to-hand conflict with a number of savage coolies, Cunningham being almost annihilated. He brought it on himself, however, by rapping across the knuckles an inquisitive Mongolian who had dared to feel his bicycle tire. At You Chow we were received in great ceremony by the mandarin himself, who placed guards at our disposal, and offered us every protection, going so far as to volunteersending men out to capture the natives who had assaulted us with clods and stones. The Tao Tai of the province visited us the next day to make changes in our passports. The Chinese map of China was produced, and by comparing it with the charts which we carried, I managed to show the official the route we had traveled since leaving Shanghai. One thing mystified me, I could not find You Chow on the native map, and after many efforts I succeeded in making myself understood. My breath was taken away when the official placed his finger upon the character indicating the city, and I learned for the first time that we were twelve miles from the Yang-Tse-Kiang and on the channel connecting with Tung Ting Lake. We had been lost the day before without knowing it. We had been in the dread province of Hunan, out of the territory permitted us to travel, and, worse than all, had put our heads into the lion’s jaws by coming into the very place where lawbreakers are confined. I explained my position to the Tao Tai as well as I could, and he seemed to comprehend it. The next morning, Thursday, May 21, he had us called, gave us new passports for the province of Hunan, and dispatched an escort of coolies to see us safely started upon the right road. The issuing of the passport to foreigners by a Tao Tai, when not compelled to do so by a Consul, was unprecedented, and especially in our case, when he could have weighted us with chains, trussed us up like pigs to a pole, and had us carted overland to Shanghai. Such treatment has been accorded foreigners repeatedly.It may seem strange to Europeans that the Chinese do not understand their own language when spoken by a native of some other province. Often in the short distance of twenty miles the dialect is entirely different. This fact I ascertained during our tour through Hupeh. The Shanghai resident is ignorant of the tongue of the Azecheun, and a Hupeh does not understand a syllable uttered by a native of Canton. The character used is the same when produced in writing, but the sound given it by the tongue is entirely different. Chinese also have the idea that natives from a distant province are not proper Chinamen. I asked a native of Hankow to interpret what a boatman was endeavoring in vain to say to me. My friend from Hankow made an effort, but gave it up in disgust.“Can’t you talk with your own people?” I asked, in amazement. “Can’t you understand a Chinaman?”“Chinaman,” he retorted, sharply; “he no belong Chinaman; he belong Ningpoo-man.”And Ningpoo is one of the principal ports of China.We had some difficulty and inconvenience in entering the city of Shaze, a city with a record of blood and crime unequaled to anyin the Empire. Little of its importance is known to foreigners, or in the coast cities, although it is one of the most important towns on the river between Hankow and Chung King. Possibly this is because Shaze has not a bund, club house, race track, or any of the other modern “conveniences” of a large city. Only recently, or since the Japanese-Chinese war, had it been open as a treaty port, and during my visit there, two years ago, it had but one consulate, the Japanese. It was shunned by strangers on account of its reputation for being extremely anti-foreign, the ruins of a magnificent Roman Catholic Cathedral, standing like a specter on the river bank just above the city, testifying to this prejudice. The reputation of the place caused us to be extremely chary about entering, though we finally accomplished our aim under unlooked for conditions. The shore opposite Shaze was sparsely settled, and I was correct in my conjecture that we could obtain shelter in some hut across the river. The farmer who accommodated us was an unusually kind and intelligent Chinaman. We were kept as his guests three days by rain. On the third day I dispatched a messenger to the Japanese consul at Shaze, but the answer received, written in Japanese characters, occasioned me great disappointment. “No room for you; proceed on your journey,” was the reply. I took this to be a Chinese trick, and accused the messenger of not visiting Shaze at all, but writing the characters himself. Later I learned that the letter had been taken to the Roman Catholic Mission by mistake. I returned the messenger to the city, and when he came back, an hour later, he was accompanied by a native, who brought me a letter which read:“May 26, Mr McIlrath, opposite Shaze, dear friends: We are received a letter with you and happy to say to you we are Christian Chinese and hope so are you. We have got good Chinese house in Shaze and hope you will come see us. And man will direct you to the right road to travel this side, and hope you will be happy to receive you. We are all Christians and hope so you are.Respectfully,S. Kwei.”The evident hospitality conveyed in the note caused us to overlook its ludicrous wording, and following without delay the “man,” we reached the water’s edge before we learned that he had failed to bring a house-boat with him. Directing him to return to his master, I gave him a second note, requesting that a craft be sent for us on the next day, and expressing our happiness at the prospect of visiting Mr. Kwei’s house. By noon the next day the Inter Ocean tourists were comfortably fixed in a well-appointed Chinese residence in Shaze, the guest of Mr. Kwei. We were detained in Shaze until Saturday, May 30, and during the time that we were the guests of our host we were dressed in the gaudy raiment of the wealthy Chinese. When we left Shaze it was upon a large house-boat, bound five miles above the city.The place scheduled for debarking appeared dangerous on accountof the presence of a wild-eyed, chattering mob of coolies, and I prevailed upon the captain to take us further. We traveled over night, and early Sunday morning were landed at a point which promised fair riding. We were then upon our last relay of 300 miles. Ichang was our destination, and we estimated from the point at which the boat had landed us that we would arrive in that city by June 1. There were many annoyances and encounters on the road, some of them serious, as, for instance, a hay knife thrown at Mrs. McIlrath by a laborer in a wheat field. The weapon fell short, and was caught in the spoke of Cunningham’s wheel. For the first time in our association did the little Englishman act promptly and correctly. He dismounted, and, picking up the hay knife, threw it far into the river. This act infuriated the Chinaman, who drew another knife, and calling to his friends, advanced toward us. To make a long story short, we “bluffed” the crowd with our pistols. The Chinese dread individuals who do not betray the rage they feel more than an entire regiment of blusterers. All of which reminds me of the well-known maxim that a “barking dog never bites.”When the Inter Ocean tourists reached Ichang they were half-way across China, with the record to their credit of 600 miles traveled through a country never penetrated by a foreigner before. Lenz, of whom I have previously spoken, followed the direct route from Shanghai, or what may be called the “telegraph line.” Morrison and other Englishmen made the passage by steamer from Shanghai, and Stevens crossed only from Canton to Kui Kiang, and thence to Shanghai by steamer. It took us twenty-one days to complete the journey, and so anxious had members of the European colony at Ichang become about us that, had we not arrived when we did, native couriers would have been dispatched the next morning to search the country for us. Our first stop in the city was at the postoffice, where I received the note from Mr. Hunter, a friend we had met at Hankow, announcing that he had arranged for us to stop at the American Episcopal Mission, and that to the Rev. H. C. Collins would be due the courtesy of entertaining us. The first day we spent in Ichang thoroughly acquainted us with the members of the community. There were scarcely thirty foreigners in all, but each seemed anxious to render our stay as pleasant as possible. We had picnics, tennis parties and dinners arranged in our honor, meeting many interesting characters, both native and European. One of these friends, Tseo Shoo Wen, an energetic, lively Chinaman, and a man one could well afford to win as a friend, was especially solicitous regarding our comfort and safety. Learning that we were to travel through the Yang-Tse-Kiang gorges by boat as far as Wan Hsien, Mr. Tseo offered us asescort a gunboat and lifeboat. We declined, however, as we had been asked to become the guests on the house-boat of Dr. Collins, upon which we departed from Ichang on June 15. Our route as nearly as possible was to go by boat to Wan Shien, thence overland to Chung King, Suifoo, Yunnan Foo Tali and Bahme, the trip by boat merely allowing us to see the beginning of the beauty of the marvelous gorges, and not in the least rendering our trip any less interesting. In fact, as the summer floods were expected daily, there was greater hazard at this time of year on the waterways than on land. We were thoroughly stocked with bedding and canned provisions sufficient for a ten days' trip. We were so fortunate as to secure as captain the same native who had piloted one of my friends, Dr. Morrison, up the river, and he had retained his own crew of five strong, competent boatmen. The evening prior to our departure a complimentary dinner was given in honor of Mrs. McIlrath, and on Monday, June 15, the “Defender,” as we called our boat, hoisted sail, and the Inter Ocean tourists left Ichang as they entered it, flying under the beautiful colors of the United States.
CHAPTER XI.INTER OCEAN CYCLISTS ENCOUNTER AN ASIATIC SHYLOCK—HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICTS WITH THE COOLIES IN SHAZE.
INTER OCEAN CYCLISTS ENCOUNTER AN ASIATIC SHYLOCK—HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICTS WITH THE COOLIES IN SHAZE.
INTER OCEAN CYCLISTS ENCOUNTER AN ASIATIC SHYLOCK—HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICTS WITH THE COOLIES IN SHAZE.
On the eighth day of our trip from Hankow, Mrs. McIlrath contracted a severe cold, which impeded our progress and caused me great alarm. Much of the journey, on this account, had to be taken in sedan chairs. Our supply of tinned goods was also becoming low, the oil we carried for lubricating was gone, and Cunningham, as if to add his share to the chain of misfortune, displayed symptoms of malarial fever. As the only resort we changed our course in the interior and pushed toward the river, hoping to find some English steamer which might replenish our stores. A half day of waiting on the river bank, and a steamer hove in sight. The three of us hoisted signals, and I fired my pistols, but the steamer evidently did not see us, and steamed on up the river, displaying the English flag as she passed. Though not in such a serious predicament, our sensationswere similar to those of the shipwrecked sailor adrift on his raft as the solitary ship sails by, majestic to look upon, but to the castaway cruel and cold. As if in sympathy with our disappointment, the rain came down in torrents as the steamer disappeared from view, and we made our way to a settlement a few miles ahead. It was then necessary for us to cross the river, which we did, but in the most unexpected fashion. The lone ferryman must have been an Asiatic descendant of Shylock, or at least his demands so indicated, for he asked 300 cash to row us 100 feet. To convey the impression that we were not in such a great hurry to be ferried, we sat down upon the river bank and began munching some tasteless cakes which Mrs. McIlrath had purchased at a restaurant. The large boat of a mandarin was moored upon the opposite bank, the crew watching us intently, and the official himself peering at us from the curtained window of his cabin. We next observed the anchor of the boat drawn up and the craft making headway in our direction. Just what was the mandarin’s object in crossing we could not imagine. A plank was laid from the shore to his boat, and we were summoned on board. The silk-clad official received us politely, offering the customary tea. One of his crew, who knew a bit of English, interpreted to him that we desired to cross the river. In a moment our boat was moving, and we soon returned to the original mooring. It was almost too much to contemplate! For the first time we had been rescued from the exorbitant charges of a native by one of his own countrymen—a most unusual interference. Chinamen are very clannish, and seldom can they be induced to compete in prices when in trade among themselves, but never where a foreigner is concerned. Delaying only long enough to allow the mandarin to read my passports and to civilly refuse his invitation to remain on board his boat for the day and night, we landed and rode on our way.Ten miles of very fair path through short grass brought us to a gigantic rock arising from the plain like a great castle. Under its sheltering shelves we found a trio of fisher huts. We stopped at the largest of these and obtained permission to cook the food which we purchased from the fishermen, one of the many luncheons of its kind that we ate in China. We stopped only long enough for our repast before setting out for You Chow. Before reaching the city we had a fierce hand-to-hand conflict with a number of savage coolies, Cunningham being almost annihilated. He brought it on himself, however, by rapping across the knuckles an inquisitive Mongolian who had dared to feel his bicycle tire. At You Chow we were received in great ceremony by the mandarin himself, who placed guards at our disposal, and offered us every protection, going so far as to volunteersending men out to capture the natives who had assaulted us with clods and stones. The Tao Tai of the province visited us the next day to make changes in our passports. The Chinese map of China was produced, and by comparing it with the charts which we carried, I managed to show the official the route we had traveled since leaving Shanghai. One thing mystified me, I could not find You Chow on the native map, and after many efforts I succeeded in making myself understood. My breath was taken away when the official placed his finger upon the character indicating the city, and I learned for the first time that we were twelve miles from the Yang-Tse-Kiang and on the channel connecting with Tung Ting Lake. We had been lost the day before without knowing it. We had been in the dread province of Hunan, out of the territory permitted us to travel, and, worse than all, had put our heads into the lion’s jaws by coming into the very place where lawbreakers are confined. I explained my position to the Tao Tai as well as I could, and he seemed to comprehend it. The next morning, Thursday, May 21, he had us called, gave us new passports for the province of Hunan, and dispatched an escort of coolies to see us safely started upon the right road. The issuing of the passport to foreigners by a Tao Tai, when not compelled to do so by a Consul, was unprecedented, and especially in our case, when he could have weighted us with chains, trussed us up like pigs to a pole, and had us carted overland to Shanghai. Such treatment has been accorded foreigners repeatedly.It may seem strange to Europeans that the Chinese do not understand their own language when spoken by a native of some other province. Often in the short distance of twenty miles the dialect is entirely different. This fact I ascertained during our tour through Hupeh. The Shanghai resident is ignorant of the tongue of the Azecheun, and a Hupeh does not understand a syllable uttered by a native of Canton. The character used is the same when produced in writing, but the sound given it by the tongue is entirely different. Chinese also have the idea that natives from a distant province are not proper Chinamen. I asked a native of Hankow to interpret what a boatman was endeavoring in vain to say to me. My friend from Hankow made an effort, but gave it up in disgust.“Can’t you talk with your own people?” I asked, in amazement. “Can’t you understand a Chinaman?”“Chinaman,” he retorted, sharply; “he no belong Chinaman; he belong Ningpoo-man.”And Ningpoo is one of the principal ports of China.We had some difficulty and inconvenience in entering the city of Shaze, a city with a record of blood and crime unequaled to anyin the Empire. Little of its importance is known to foreigners, or in the coast cities, although it is one of the most important towns on the river between Hankow and Chung King. Possibly this is because Shaze has not a bund, club house, race track, or any of the other modern “conveniences” of a large city. Only recently, or since the Japanese-Chinese war, had it been open as a treaty port, and during my visit there, two years ago, it had but one consulate, the Japanese. It was shunned by strangers on account of its reputation for being extremely anti-foreign, the ruins of a magnificent Roman Catholic Cathedral, standing like a specter on the river bank just above the city, testifying to this prejudice. The reputation of the place caused us to be extremely chary about entering, though we finally accomplished our aim under unlooked for conditions. The shore opposite Shaze was sparsely settled, and I was correct in my conjecture that we could obtain shelter in some hut across the river. The farmer who accommodated us was an unusually kind and intelligent Chinaman. We were kept as his guests three days by rain. On the third day I dispatched a messenger to the Japanese consul at Shaze, but the answer received, written in Japanese characters, occasioned me great disappointment. “No room for you; proceed on your journey,” was the reply. I took this to be a Chinese trick, and accused the messenger of not visiting Shaze at all, but writing the characters himself. Later I learned that the letter had been taken to the Roman Catholic Mission by mistake. I returned the messenger to the city, and when he came back, an hour later, he was accompanied by a native, who brought me a letter which read:“May 26, Mr McIlrath, opposite Shaze, dear friends: We are received a letter with you and happy to say to you we are Christian Chinese and hope so are you. We have got good Chinese house in Shaze and hope you will come see us. And man will direct you to the right road to travel this side, and hope you will be happy to receive you. We are all Christians and hope so you are.Respectfully,S. Kwei.”The evident hospitality conveyed in the note caused us to overlook its ludicrous wording, and following without delay the “man,” we reached the water’s edge before we learned that he had failed to bring a house-boat with him. Directing him to return to his master, I gave him a second note, requesting that a craft be sent for us on the next day, and expressing our happiness at the prospect of visiting Mr. Kwei’s house. By noon the next day the Inter Ocean tourists were comfortably fixed in a well-appointed Chinese residence in Shaze, the guest of Mr. Kwei. We were detained in Shaze until Saturday, May 30, and during the time that we were the guests of our host we were dressed in the gaudy raiment of the wealthy Chinese. When we left Shaze it was upon a large house-boat, bound five miles above the city.The place scheduled for debarking appeared dangerous on accountof the presence of a wild-eyed, chattering mob of coolies, and I prevailed upon the captain to take us further. We traveled over night, and early Sunday morning were landed at a point which promised fair riding. We were then upon our last relay of 300 miles. Ichang was our destination, and we estimated from the point at which the boat had landed us that we would arrive in that city by June 1. There were many annoyances and encounters on the road, some of them serious, as, for instance, a hay knife thrown at Mrs. McIlrath by a laborer in a wheat field. The weapon fell short, and was caught in the spoke of Cunningham’s wheel. For the first time in our association did the little Englishman act promptly and correctly. He dismounted, and, picking up the hay knife, threw it far into the river. This act infuriated the Chinaman, who drew another knife, and calling to his friends, advanced toward us. To make a long story short, we “bluffed” the crowd with our pistols. The Chinese dread individuals who do not betray the rage they feel more than an entire regiment of blusterers. All of which reminds me of the well-known maxim that a “barking dog never bites.”When the Inter Ocean tourists reached Ichang they were half-way across China, with the record to their credit of 600 miles traveled through a country never penetrated by a foreigner before. Lenz, of whom I have previously spoken, followed the direct route from Shanghai, or what may be called the “telegraph line.” Morrison and other Englishmen made the passage by steamer from Shanghai, and Stevens crossed only from Canton to Kui Kiang, and thence to Shanghai by steamer. It took us twenty-one days to complete the journey, and so anxious had members of the European colony at Ichang become about us that, had we not arrived when we did, native couriers would have been dispatched the next morning to search the country for us. Our first stop in the city was at the postoffice, where I received the note from Mr. Hunter, a friend we had met at Hankow, announcing that he had arranged for us to stop at the American Episcopal Mission, and that to the Rev. H. C. Collins would be due the courtesy of entertaining us. The first day we spent in Ichang thoroughly acquainted us with the members of the community. There were scarcely thirty foreigners in all, but each seemed anxious to render our stay as pleasant as possible. We had picnics, tennis parties and dinners arranged in our honor, meeting many interesting characters, both native and European. One of these friends, Tseo Shoo Wen, an energetic, lively Chinaman, and a man one could well afford to win as a friend, was especially solicitous regarding our comfort and safety. Learning that we were to travel through the Yang-Tse-Kiang gorges by boat as far as Wan Hsien, Mr. Tseo offered us asescort a gunboat and lifeboat. We declined, however, as we had been asked to become the guests on the house-boat of Dr. Collins, upon which we departed from Ichang on June 15. Our route as nearly as possible was to go by boat to Wan Shien, thence overland to Chung King, Suifoo, Yunnan Foo Tali and Bahme, the trip by boat merely allowing us to see the beginning of the beauty of the marvelous gorges, and not in the least rendering our trip any less interesting. In fact, as the summer floods were expected daily, there was greater hazard at this time of year on the waterways than on land. We were thoroughly stocked with bedding and canned provisions sufficient for a ten days' trip. We were so fortunate as to secure as captain the same native who had piloted one of my friends, Dr. Morrison, up the river, and he had retained his own crew of five strong, competent boatmen. The evening prior to our departure a complimentary dinner was given in honor of Mrs. McIlrath, and on Monday, June 15, the “Defender,” as we called our boat, hoisted sail, and the Inter Ocean tourists left Ichang as they entered it, flying under the beautiful colors of the United States.
On the eighth day of our trip from Hankow, Mrs. McIlrath contracted a severe cold, which impeded our progress and caused me great alarm. Much of the journey, on this account, had to be taken in sedan chairs. Our supply of tinned goods was also becoming low, the oil we carried for lubricating was gone, and Cunningham, as if to add his share to the chain of misfortune, displayed symptoms of malarial fever. As the only resort we changed our course in the interior and pushed toward the river, hoping to find some English steamer which might replenish our stores. A half day of waiting on the river bank, and a steamer hove in sight. The three of us hoisted signals, and I fired my pistols, but the steamer evidently did not see us, and steamed on up the river, displaying the English flag as she passed. Though not in such a serious predicament, our sensationswere similar to those of the shipwrecked sailor adrift on his raft as the solitary ship sails by, majestic to look upon, but to the castaway cruel and cold. As if in sympathy with our disappointment, the rain came down in torrents as the steamer disappeared from view, and we made our way to a settlement a few miles ahead. It was then necessary for us to cross the river, which we did, but in the most unexpected fashion. The lone ferryman must have been an Asiatic descendant of Shylock, or at least his demands so indicated, for he asked 300 cash to row us 100 feet. To convey the impression that we were not in such a great hurry to be ferried, we sat down upon the river bank and began munching some tasteless cakes which Mrs. McIlrath had purchased at a restaurant. The large boat of a mandarin was moored upon the opposite bank, the crew watching us intently, and the official himself peering at us from the curtained window of his cabin. We next observed the anchor of the boat drawn up and the craft making headway in our direction. Just what was the mandarin’s object in crossing we could not imagine. A plank was laid from the shore to his boat, and we were summoned on board. The silk-clad official received us politely, offering the customary tea. One of his crew, who knew a bit of English, interpreted to him that we desired to cross the river. In a moment our boat was moving, and we soon returned to the original mooring. It was almost too much to contemplate! For the first time we had been rescued from the exorbitant charges of a native by one of his own countrymen—a most unusual interference. Chinamen are very clannish, and seldom can they be induced to compete in prices when in trade among themselves, but never where a foreigner is concerned. Delaying only long enough to allow the mandarin to read my passports and to civilly refuse his invitation to remain on board his boat for the day and night, we landed and rode on our way.
Ten miles of very fair path through short grass brought us to a gigantic rock arising from the plain like a great castle. Under its sheltering shelves we found a trio of fisher huts. We stopped at the largest of these and obtained permission to cook the food which we purchased from the fishermen, one of the many luncheons of its kind that we ate in China. We stopped only long enough for our repast before setting out for You Chow. Before reaching the city we had a fierce hand-to-hand conflict with a number of savage coolies, Cunningham being almost annihilated. He brought it on himself, however, by rapping across the knuckles an inquisitive Mongolian who had dared to feel his bicycle tire. At You Chow we were received in great ceremony by the mandarin himself, who placed guards at our disposal, and offered us every protection, going so far as to volunteersending men out to capture the natives who had assaulted us with clods and stones. The Tao Tai of the province visited us the next day to make changes in our passports. The Chinese map of China was produced, and by comparing it with the charts which we carried, I managed to show the official the route we had traveled since leaving Shanghai. One thing mystified me, I could not find You Chow on the native map, and after many efforts I succeeded in making myself understood. My breath was taken away when the official placed his finger upon the character indicating the city, and I learned for the first time that we were twelve miles from the Yang-Tse-Kiang and on the channel connecting with Tung Ting Lake. We had been lost the day before without knowing it. We had been in the dread province of Hunan, out of the territory permitted us to travel, and, worse than all, had put our heads into the lion’s jaws by coming into the very place where lawbreakers are confined. I explained my position to the Tao Tai as well as I could, and he seemed to comprehend it. The next morning, Thursday, May 21, he had us called, gave us new passports for the province of Hunan, and dispatched an escort of coolies to see us safely started upon the right road. The issuing of the passport to foreigners by a Tao Tai, when not compelled to do so by a Consul, was unprecedented, and especially in our case, when he could have weighted us with chains, trussed us up like pigs to a pole, and had us carted overland to Shanghai. Such treatment has been accorded foreigners repeatedly.
It may seem strange to Europeans that the Chinese do not understand their own language when spoken by a native of some other province. Often in the short distance of twenty miles the dialect is entirely different. This fact I ascertained during our tour through Hupeh. The Shanghai resident is ignorant of the tongue of the Azecheun, and a Hupeh does not understand a syllable uttered by a native of Canton. The character used is the same when produced in writing, but the sound given it by the tongue is entirely different. Chinese also have the idea that natives from a distant province are not proper Chinamen. I asked a native of Hankow to interpret what a boatman was endeavoring in vain to say to me. My friend from Hankow made an effort, but gave it up in disgust.
“Can’t you talk with your own people?” I asked, in amazement. “Can’t you understand a Chinaman?”
“Chinaman,” he retorted, sharply; “he no belong Chinaman; he belong Ningpoo-man.”
And Ningpoo is one of the principal ports of China.
We had some difficulty and inconvenience in entering the city of Shaze, a city with a record of blood and crime unequaled to anyin the Empire. Little of its importance is known to foreigners, or in the coast cities, although it is one of the most important towns on the river between Hankow and Chung King. Possibly this is because Shaze has not a bund, club house, race track, or any of the other modern “conveniences” of a large city. Only recently, or since the Japanese-Chinese war, had it been open as a treaty port, and during my visit there, two years ago, it had but one consulate, the Japanese. It was shunned by strangers on account of its reputation for being extremely anti-foreign, the ruins of a magnificent Roman Catholic Cathedral, standing like a specter on the river bank just above the city, testifying to this prejudice. The reputation of the place caused us to be extremely chary about entering, though we finally accomplished our aim under unlooked for conditions. The shore opposite Shaze was sparsely settled, and I was correct in my conjecture that we could obtain shelter in some hut across the river. The farmer who accommodated us was an unusually kind and intelligent Chinaman. We were kept as his guests three days by rain. On the third day I dispatched a messenger to the Japanese consul at Shaze, but the answer received, written in Japanese characters, occasioned me great disappointment. “No room for you; proceed on your journey,” was the reply. I took this to be a Chinese trick, and accused the messenger of not visiting Shaze at all, but writing the characters himself. Later I learned that the letter had been taken to the Roman Catholic Mission by mistake. I returned the messenger to the city, and when he came back, an hour later, he was accompanied by a native, who brought me a letter which read:
“May 26, Mr McIlrath, opposite Shaze, dear friends: We are received a letter with you and happy to say to you we are Christian Chinese and hope so are you. We have got good Chinese house in Shaze and hope you will come see us. And man will direct you to the right road to travel this side, and hope you will be happy to receive you. We are all Christians and hope so you are.Respectfully,S. Kwei.”
“May 26, Mr McIlrath, opposite Shaze, dear friends: We are received a letter with you and happy to say to you we are Christian Chinese and hope so are you. We have got good Chinese house in Shaze and hope you will come see us. And man will direct you to the right road to travel this side, and hope you will be happy to receive you. We are all Christians and hope so you are.
Respectfully,S. Kwei.”
The evident hospitality conveyed in the note caused us to overlook its ludicrous wording, and following without delay the “man,” we reached the water’s edge before we learned that he had failed to bring a house-boat with him. Directing him to return to his master, I gave him a second note, requesting that a craft be sent for us on the next day, and expressing our happiness at the prospect of visiting Mr. Kwei’s house. By noon the next day the Inter Ocean tourists were comfortably fixed in a well-appointed Chinese residence in Shaze, the guest of Mr. Kwei. We were detained in Shaze until Saturday, May 30, and during the time that we were the guests of our host we were dressed in the gaudy raiment of the wealthy Chinese. When we left Shaze it was upon a large house-boat, bound five miles above the city.
The place scheduled for debarking appeared dangerous on accountof the presence of a wild-eyed, chattering mob of coolies, and I prevailed upon the captain to take us further. We traveled over night, and early Sunday morning were landed at a point which promised fair riding. We were then upon our last relay of 300 miles. Ichang was our destination, and we estimated from the point at which the boat had landed us that we would arrive in that city by June 1. There were many annoyances and encounters on the road, some of them serious, as, for instance, a hay knife thrown at Mrs. McIlrath by a laborer in a wheat field. The weapon fell short, and was caught in the spoke of Cunningham’s wheel. For the first time in our association did the little Englishman act promptly and correctly. He dismounted, and, picking up the hay knife, threw it far into the river. This act infuriated the Chinaman, who drew another knife, and calling to his friends, advanced toward us. To make a long story short, we “bluffed” the crowd with our pistols. The Chinese dread individuals who do not betray the rage they feel more than an entire regiment of blusterers. All of which reminds me of the well-known maxim that a “barking dog never bites.”
When the Inter Ocean tourists reached Ichang they were half-way across China, with the record to their credit of 600 miles traveled through a country never penetrated by a foreigner before. Lenz, of whom I have previously spoken, followed the direct route from Shanghai, or what may be called the “telegraph line.” Morrison and other Englishmen made the passage by steamer from Shanghai, and Stevens crossed only from Canton to Kui Kiang, and thence to Shanghai by steamer. It took us twenty-one days to complete the journey, and so anxious had members of the European colony at Ichang become about us that, had we not arrived when we did, native couriers would have been dispatched the next morning to search the country for us. Our first stop in the city was at the postoffice, where I received the note from Mr. Hunter, a friend we had met at Hankow, announcing that he had arranged for us to stop at the American Episcopal Mission, and that to the Rev. H. C. Collins would be due the courtesy of entertaining us. The first day we spent in Ichang thoroughly acquainted us with the members of the community. There were scarcely thirty foreigners in all, but each seemed anxious to render our stay as pleasant as possible. We had picnics, tennis parties and dinners arranged in our honor, meeting many interesting characters, both native and European. One of these friends, Tseo Shoo Wen, an energetic, lively Chinaman, and a man one could well afford to win as a friend, was especially solicitous regarding our comfort and safety. Learning that we were to travel through the Yang-Tse-Kiang gorges by boat as far as Wan Hsien, Mr. Tseo offered us asescort a gunboat and lifeboat. We declined, however, as we had been asked to become the guests on the house-boat of Dr. Collins, upon which we departed from Ichang on June 15. Our route as nearly as possible was to go by boat to Wan Shien, thence overland to Chung King, Suifoo, Yunnan Foo Tali and Bahme, the trip by boat merely allowing us to see the beginning of the beauty of the marvelous gorges, and not in the least rendering our trip any less interesting. In fact, as the summer floods were expected daily, there was greater hazard at this time of year on the waterways than on land. We were thoroughly stocked with bedding and canned provisions sufficient for a ten days' trip. We were so fortunate as to secure as captain the same native who had piloted one of my friends, Dr. Morrison, up the river, and he had retained his own crew of five strong, competent boatmen. The evening prior to our departure a complimentary dinner was given in honor of Mrs. McIlrath, and on Monday, June 15, the “Defender,” as we called our boat, hoisted sail, and the Inter Ocean tourists left Ichang as they entered it, flying under the beautiful colors of the United States.