CHAPTER XII.ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG DURING A FLOOD—TOWED BY FORTY COOLIES—CYCLISTS PAID FOR BEING ENTERTAINED BY THE TAI FOO.The rain which we had looked for did not disappoint us. The water poured steadily for three days following the Fourth of July, and on the 7th the water rose twenty feet in eighteen hours. It continued rising to flood height, and we were imprisoned at Ping Shan Pa until July 26, our boat tied to the trees of an orange grove which sheltered a coffin shop kept by an old man. The Yang-Tse-Kiang was in its fiercest mood, and none better than ourselves were in a position to witness its terrors. Our boat was turned and twisted as if struggling to break its bonds. Great volumes of under-current burst in swirls under our bow and stern, pounding as they struck the flat bottom of the boat as if we had been crashed on a submerged rock. The yellow waters seemed to leap in their course, all semblance to a stream being lost. Trees, torn up by their roots, leaped full length from the whirlpools and were drawn down into the vortex of the next. A capsized junk shot past, and as it was near the shore a half-dozen boatmen left the bank to seize the prize. It was an exciting sight. The crews raved, yelled and stamped on the deck like demons, risking their lives for the sake of a few pieces of silver. When they succeeded in beaching the junk, every plank, nail, bitof cargo, and even the bodies on board, were theirs to possess or claim reward for. The rampage of the river gave the coffin shop proprietor several days of grewsome work. Within twenty-four hours the gray-queued old fellow rescued six bodies from the whirlpools in front of his establishment. His son, stationed on a crag half a mile upstream, kept a keen lookout for the dead in the river, and as soon as the yellow, bloated bodies appeared on the surface of the water, he signaled his father, who, with an assistant, put out in a small boat to tow the corpses ashore. For this service and for the coffin he received 75 gold cents a body, and rich, in a Chinaman’s eyes, had the old fellow grown with his years of watching during the spring and summer floods.Ascending the gorges of the Yang-Tse-Kiang by boat is a trip which, under the most propitious circumstances, is fraught with danger and inconvenience, but especially so during the months of July and August. But we ascended the most dangerous parts of the famed canyons, passed through the Tan Hsin, Sung Poa Tso Tan and other dreaded rapids. Though the trip proved at all times exciting, there was no time that danger was sufficiently apparent to cause Mrs. McIlrath to change color or to reach out for her cork life-belt. Nevertheless, I would not undertake the journey again were it to lead through scenery doubly grand and were the passage to be paid handsomely in gold. The entire pleasure is lost in efforts to keep the Chinese crew in marching order, and, as they must be coerced into activity, the journey may be said to resemble an outing in the Grand Canyon with a herd of swine to drive. The expression is homely, but just and fitting. We sighted the beautiful Teng Hsiang gorge on Aug. 8, but long before we entered it the country became hilly, often resembling the beautiful Palisades of the Hudson. In America, where all things necessary to facilitate transportation and commerce are deemed absolutely necessary, such feats as the Port Huron Canal and the removal of Hell Gate are accepted by the public when the feats are accomplished as simply the result of need, but in China a mere passage a few miles long, blasted out of a mountain side, is a rare spectacle to behold. As our boat slipped along the rocks the beauty of the gorge disclosed itself, but to my mind the scenery of the Teng Hsiang gorge did not compare in grandeur to that encountered upon the rapids of Shan-Tou-Ping. The rapids are caused by jutting shells of rock running out into the river several hundred feet. As the water is deep, and the current runs eight miles an hour, the rapids are terrific. Had our boat broken loose and gone down stream onto the boulders, which reared their heads just above the water, boat, baggage, bicycles, and probably tourists would have been lost.The mast of all boats ascending the Yang-Tse-Kiang is situatedalmost amidships, just a little forward, and to the base of this is fastened the tracking line of bamboo. From the top of the spar runs another line fastened to the towline about thirty feet out from the mast, and by pulling in or slacking this line the tracking line may be raised to the top of the spar, if desired, this to enable the towline to clear the rocks on the shore, which are occasionally as high as the mast. Forty coolies composed our crew on shore in charge of the tracking line, and as the “Defender,” trembling and groaning, pushed her nose into the rushing water the crew ashore chanted and groaned, as, bent forward until one hand almost touched the ground, they moved us up stream. The night of our arrival in Kwei Chou Foo, an old and dilapidated, yet a city of great importance, Mrs. McIlrath and I slept on deck, as was our custom, awakened the next morning at daybreak. At 9 o’clock I sent my letter of introduction, card and passport to the Tai Foo by the captain of the lifeboat, and an hour later we received his card, and word that at noon an official would call for us. In the meantime our apartments were being prepared in the palace of the Tai Foo. He sent three chairs for us, one for myself, one for Mrs. McIlrath, and one for Leo, our Chinese interpreter, a Shanghai boy, who was quite driven out of his wits at the idea that one so high in rank should condescend to provide a chair for a foreigner’s servant. The Tai Foo was a tall, slender man, middle-aged, and very intellectual in appearance. Beckoning us to a sumptuously furnished reception room, he welcomed us in courtly manner, and with Leo acting as interpreter, he asked the usual questions concerning our trip, the cause for undertaking such a journey, how much I received a month, if I had seen indications of gold and silver ore in China, and endless queries that are kept constantly on hand by the official clan. Gradually the potentate thawed out, his questioning ceased, and he began telling of his own affairs. He laid aside the peacock plumed bonnet and the gold breastplate, and, clad in his blue silk robe, he became simply a well-educated Chinese gentleman. He realized that Japan had annihilated and confiscated China’s navy, defeated her troops and generally “played horse” with the Great Dragon. He also knew that the world was round, and that America and Great Britain were different countries.We were the guests of the Tai Foo for three days, and when we were ready for departure he presented us with a purse of 20 taels, insisting that we accept it to remunerate us for the enjoyment he had derived from our honorable company. As a farewell contribution to our part of the entertainment, I rode the bicycle around the gardens, causing the wives, children andattachésof the Tai Foo to scream with delight, and then call for our chairs. As we took our places inthe gaily papered interior of the sedans, the Foo’s secretary handed me three enormous envelopes covered with imposing seals and large characters. These were letters of commendation to the Shen at Yan Yang Hsien, where we arrived Monday, Aug. 17. There was another official reception for us, with the same pageant of chairs, umbrellas and ponies. We dined with the Shen, who also stocked our boat with dainty dishes, including hams, ducks, chickens, fish and a young pig. The quantity of food provided for us as a single meal would have fed six Americans for several days.The contract I had made with the boatmen called for 21,000 cash, and stipulated that we were to be landed in Wan Hsien in twelve days. The cash had been paid the crew in advance, and as the ship had occupied twenty-three days, I had been liberal in granting the crew extra money, until 17,000 extra cash had been added to the sum. But upon our arrival at Wan Hsien the boatman demanded 7,000 cash more. I had learned from experience that argument with the coolie class did not pay, so when the demand was made I requested that the boatman accompany me to the Shen and allow that official to decide the difficulty. This proposition he accepted, and as soon as we had met the official, presented our passports and letters of introduction, and our boy Leo had handed the Shen my receipts, contract and a statement of the extras paid, we adjourned to the trial room. In vain did our boat captain explain his woes as he knelt upon the stone floor. Unfortunately for himself, he attempted to explain some particular point, and instantly the Shen shouted an order, four coolies seized him, and stretching him upon the floor, administered 400 strokes with a club. I had not expected such an outcome, and when the Shen asked through the interpreter if I was satisfied, I could but answer, “Only too well.” The boatman staggered to his feet, and with piteous moans was thrust into a bamboo cage. This seemed to be carrying things a little too far, and expostulating with the Shen I succeeded in having him released. Paying him 4,000 cash as a recompense, I sent him away, grateful that I had not taken advantage of my influence and allowed him to remain in the filthy bamboo pen.The road from Wan Hsien to Chung King lies directly over the mountains. Knowing that upon our journey we would be unable to ride our bicycles, we engaged coolies to carry them, and taking the conveyance called mountain chairs for the accommodation of ourselves and boy, we left Wan Hsien Aug. 26. The Shen furnished us as an escort two soldiers and four extra coolies, and with these added to our party of five we made quite a little procession as we started on our long tramp. At 4:30 o’clock in the afternoon we halted at a large village thirty miles up the mountain. The rain was pouring, andwhile the coolies prepared a room for us in the inn I hastened to provide dry clothing and medicine for Mrs. McIlrath. She had fallen ill during the morning, and had I known what distress and alarm her indisposition was to cause me I hardly think I should have ever ventured into the interior of China. To be ill in a civilized land, where one has all the advantages of medicine, proper food, bedding and pure air, is trying enough to one’s nerves and peace of mind, but to be stricken in a land 300 miles from a white face, confined in a dark, damp room, centipedes crawling along the walls, rain dropping from the roof, terrible odors from pig pens in the next room, and cesspools of filth in the rear, is calculated to affect any sufferer for the worse. It was midnight before I could quiet my wife by the use of drugs. She insisted upon starting with us the next morning, though so weak she had to be carried to her chair. The rain fell in torrents, and to protect my patient I tied sheets of oil paper over her chair, wrapped her in a flannel blanket, and hung curtains of burlap over the doorway. Her condition did not improve for the next three days. The rain continued to add to our misery and discomfort, but my stock of medicine was running low, and I considered necessary a forced march to Chung King. Several times our coolie chair bearers mutinied, and upon one particular rainy night they gave us the slip, forcing me to send the Shen’s two soldiers after them. They not only deserted, but took with them the chair used in carrying Mrs. McIlrath. But the soldiers were faithful to the friends of their master, and captured and brought back the truants. It was only by threats to do them bodily harm that I succeeded in making them resume the march next morning. I probably threatened more than I would execute, but prompt action was imperative. It was either to move rapidly toward Chung King, or lose by an agonizing death the little companion of my travels and of my life. The path was miserable, the rain fell in a drizzle, and the country was half hidden in banks of fog, but never did blue skies, green grass, and the sweet air of freedom appear more welcome to a released convict than did that dreary view as we set forward for relief.
CHAPTER XII.ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG DURING A FLOOD—TOWED BY FORTY COOLIES—CYCLISTS PAID FOR BEING ENTERTAINED BY THE TAI FOO.The rain which we had looked for did not disappoint us. The water poured steadily for three days following the Fourth of July, and on the 7th the water rose twenty feet in eighteen hours. It continued rising to flood height, and we were imprisoned at Ping Shan Pa until July 26, our boat tied to the trees of an orange grove which sheltered a coffin shop kept by an old man. The Yang-Tse-Kiang was in its fiercest mood, and none better than ourselves were in a position to witness its terrors. Our boat was turned and twisted as if struggling to break its bonds. Great volumes of under-current burst in swirls under our bow and stern, pounding as they struck the flat bottom of the boat as if we had been crashed on a submerged rock. The yellow waters seemed to leap in their course, all semblance to a stream being lost. Trees, torn up by their roots, leaped full length from the whirlpools and were drawn down into the vortex of the next. A capsized junk shot past, and as it was near the shore a half-dozen boatmen left the bank to seize the prize. It was an exciting sight. The crews raved, yelled and stamped on the deck like demons, risking their lives for the sake of a few pieces of silver. When they succeeded in beaching the junk, every plank, nail, bitof cargo, and even the bodies on board, were theirs to possess or claim reward for. The rampage of the river gave the coffin shop proprietor several days of grewsome work. Within twenty-four hours the gray-queued old fellow rescued six bodies from the whirlpools in front of his establishment. His son, stationed on a crag half a mile upstream, kept a keen lookout for the dead in the river, and as soon as the yellow, bloated bodies appeared on the surface of the water, he signaled his father, who, with an assistant, put out in a small boat to tow the corpses ashore. For this service and for the coffin he received 75 gold cents a body, and rich, in a Chinaman’s eyes, had the old fellow grown with his years of watching during the spring and summer floods.Ascending the gorges of the Yang-Tse-Kiang by boat is a trip which, under the most propitious circumstances, is fraught with danger and inconvenience, but especially so during the months of July and August. But we ascended the most dangerous parts of the famed canyons, passed through the Tan Hsin, Sung Poa Tso Tan and other dreaded rapids. Though the trip proved at all times exciting, there was no time that danger was sufficiently apparent to cause Mrs. McIlrath to change color or to reach out for her cork life-belt. Nevertheless, I would not undertake the journey again were it to lead through scenery doubly grand and were the passage to be paid handsomely in gold. The entire pleasure is lost in efforts to keep the Chinese crew in marching order, and, as they must be coerced into activity, the journey may be said to resemble an outing in the Grand Canyon with a herd of swine to drive. The expression is homely, but just and fitting. We sighted the beautiful Teng Hsiang gorge on Aug. 8, but long before we entered it the country became hilly, often resembling the beautiful Palisades of the Hudson. In America, where all things necessary to facilitate transportation and commerce are deemed absolutely necessary, such feats as the Port Huron Canal and the removal of Hell Gate are accepted by the public when the feats are accomplished as simply the result of need, but in China a mere passage a few miles long, blasted out of a mountain side, is a rare spectacle to behold. As our boat slipped along the rocks the beauty of the gorge disclosed itself, but to my mind the scenery of the Teng Hsiang gorge did not compare in grandeur to that encountered upon the rapids of Shan-Tou-Ping. The rapids are caused by jutting shells of rock running out into the river several hundred feet. As the water is deep, and the current runs eight miles an hour, the rapids are terrific. Had our boat broken loose and gone down stream onto the boulders, which reared their heads just above the water, boat, baggage, bicycles, and probably tourists would have been lost.The mast of all boats ascending the Yang-Tse-Kiang is situatedalmost amidships, just a little forward, and to the base of this is fastened the tracking line of bamboo. From the top of the spar runs another line fastened to the towline about thirty feet out from the mast, and by pulling in or slacking this line the tracking line may be raised to the top of the spar, if desired, this to enable the towline to clear the rocks on the shore, which are occasionally as high as the mast. Forty coolies composed our crew on shore in charge of the tracking line, and as the “Defender,” trembling and groaning, pushed her nose into the rushing water the crew ashore chanted and groaned, as, bent forward until one hand almost touched the ground, they moved us up stream. The night of our arrival in Kwei Chou Foo, an old and dilapidated, yet a city of great importance, Mrs. McIlrath and I slept on deck, as was our custom, awakened the next morning at daybreak. At 9 o’clock I sent my letter of introduction, card and passport to the Tai Foo by the captain of the lifeboat, and an hour later we received his card, and word that at noon an official would call for us. In the meantime our apartments were being prepared in the palace of the Tai Foo. He sent three chairs for us, one for myself, one for Mrs. McIlrath, and one for Leo, our Chinese interpreter, a Shanghai boy, who was quite driven out of his wits at the idea that one so high in rank should condescend to provide a chair for a foreigner’s servant. The Tai Foo was a tall, slender man, middle-aged, and very intellectual in appearance. Beckoning us to a sumptuously furnished reception room, he welcomed us in courtly manner, and with Leo acting as interpreter, he asked the usual questions concerning our trip, the cause for undertaking such a journey, how much I received a month, if I had seen indications of gold and silver ore in China, and endless queries that are kept constantly on hand by the official clan. Gradually the potentate thawed out, his questioning ceased, and he began telling of his own affairs. He laid aside the peacock plumed bonnet and the gold breastplate, and, clad in his blue silk robe, he became simply a well-educated Chinese gentleman. He realized that Japan had annihilated and confiscated China’s navy, defeated her troops and generally “played horse” with the Great Dragon. He also knew that the world was round, and that America and Great Britain were different countries.We were the guests of the Tai Foo for three days, and when we were ready for departure he presented us with a purse of 20 taels, insisting that we accept it to remunerate us for the enjoyment he had derived from our honorable company. As a farewell contribution to our part of the entertainment, I rode the bicycle around the gardens, causing the wives, children andattachésof the Tai Foo to scream with delight, and then call for our chairs. As we took our places inthe gaily papered interior of the sedans, the Foo’s secretary handed me three enormous envelopes covered with imposing seals and large characters. These were letters of commendation to the Shen at Yan Yang Hsien, where we arrived Monday, Aug. 17. There was another official reception for us, with the same pageant of chairs, umbrellas and ponies. We dined with the Shen, who also stocked our boat with dainty dishes, including hams, ducks, chickens, fish and a young pig. The quantity of food provided for us as a single meal would have fed six Americans for several days.The contract I had made with the boatmen called for 21,000 cash, and stipulated that we were to be landed in Wan Hsien in twelve days. The cash had been paid the crew in advance, and as the ship had occupied twenty-three days, I had been liberal in granting the crew extra money, until 17,000 extra cash had been added to the sum. But upon our arrival at Wan Hsien the boatman demanded 7,000 cash more. I had learned from experience that argument with the coolie class did not pay, so when the demand was made I requested that the boatman accompany me to the Shen and allow that official to decide the difficulty. This proposition he accepted, and as soon as we had met the official, presented our passports and letters of introduction, and our boy Leo had handed the Shen my receipts, contract and a statement of the extras paid, we adjourned to the trial room. In vain did our boat captain explain his woes as he knelt upon the stone floor. Unfortunately for himself, he attempted to explain some particular point, and instantly the Shen shouted an order, four coolies seized him, and stretching him upon the floor, administered 400 strokes with a club. I had not expected such an outcome, and when the Shen asked through the interpreter if I was satisfied, I could but answer, “Only too well.” The boatman staggered to his feet, and with piteous moans was thrust into a bamboo cage. This seemed to be carrying things a little too far, and expostulating with the Shen I succeeded in having him released. Paying him 4,000 cash as a recompense, I sent him away, grateful that I had not taken advantage of my influence and allowed him to remain in the filthy bamboo pen.The road from Wan Hsien to Chung King lies directly over the mountains. Knowing that upon our journey we would be unable to ride our bicycles, we engaged coolies to carry them, and taking the conveyance called mountain chairs for the accommodation of ourselves and boy, we left Wan Hsien Aug. 26. The Shen furnished us as an escort two soldiers and four extra coolies, and with these added to our party of five we made quite a little procession as we started on our long tramp. At 4:30 o’clock in the afternoon we halted at a large village thirty miles up the mountain. The rain was pouring, andwhile the coolies prepared a room for us in the inn I hastened to provide dry clothing and medicine for Mrs. McIlrath. She had fallen ill during the morning, and had I known what distress and alarm her indisposition was to cause me I hardly think I should have ever ventured into the interior of China. To be ill in a civilized land, where one has all the advantages of medicine, proper food, bedding and pure air, is trying enough to one’s nerves and peace of mind, but to be stricken in a land 300 miles from a white face, confined in a dark, damp room, centipedes crawling along the walls, rain dropping from the roof, terrible odors from pig pens in the next room, and cesspools of filth in the rear, is calculated to affect any sufferer for the worse. It was midnight before I could quiet my wife by the use of drugs. She insisted upon starting with us the next morning, though so weak she had to be carried to her chair. The rain fell in torrents, and to protect my patient I tied sheets of oil paper over her chair, wrapped her in a flannel blanket, and hung curtains of burlap over the doorway. Her condition did not improve for the next three days. The rain continued to add to our misery and discomfort, but my stock of medicine was running low, and I considered necessary a forced march to Chung King. Several times our coolie chair bearers mutinied, and upon one particular rainy night they gave us the slip, forcing me to send the Shen’s two soldiers after them. They not only deserted, but took with them the chair used in carrying Mrs. McIlrath. But the soldiers were faithful to the friends of their master, and captured and brought back the truants. It was only by threats to do them bodily harm that I succeeded in making them resume the march next morning. I probably threatened more than I would execute, but prompt action was imperative. It was either to move rapidly toward Chung King, or lose by an agonizing death the little companion of my travels and of my life. The path was miserable, the rain fell in a drizzle, and the country was half hidden in banks of fog, but never did blue skies, green grass, and the sweet air of freedom appear more welcome to a released convict than did that dreary view as we set forward for relief.
CHAPTER XII.ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG DURING A FLOOD—TOWED BY FORTY COOLIES—CYCLISTS PAID FOR BEING ENTERTAINED BY THE TAI FOO.
ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG DURING A FLOOD—TOWED BY FORTY COOLIES—CYCLISTS PAID FOR BEING ENTERTAINED BY THE TAI FOO.
ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG DURING A FLOOD—TOWED BY FORTY COOLIES—CYCLISTS PAID FOR BEING ENTERTAINED BY THE TAI FOO.
The rain which we had looked for did not disappoint us. The water poured steadily for three days following the Fourth of July, and on the 7th the water rose twenty feet in eighteen hours. It continued rising to flood height, and we were imprisoned at Ping Shan Pa until July 26, our boat tied to the trees of an orange grove which sheltered a coffin shop kept by an old man. The Yang-Tse-Kiang was in its fiercest mood, and none better than ourselves were in a position to witness its terrors. Our boat was turned and twisted as if struggling to break its bonds. Great volumes of under-current burst in swirls under our bow and stern, pounding as they struck the flat bottom of the boat as if we had been crashed on a submerged rock. The yellow waters seemed to leap in their course, all semblance to a stream being lost. Trees, torn up by their roots, leaped full length from the whirlpools and were drawn down into the vortex of the next. A capsized junk shot past, and as it was near the shore a half-dozen boatmen left the bank to seize the prize. It was an exciting sight. The crews raved, yelled and stamped on the deck like demons, risking their lives for the sake of a few pieces of silver. When they succeeded in beaching the junk, every plank, nail, bitof cargo, and even the bodies on board, were theirs to possess or claim reward for. The rampage of the river gave the coffin shop proprietor several days of grewsome work. Within twenty-four hours the gray-queued old fellow rescued six bodies from the whirlpools in front of his establishment. His son, stationed on a crag half a mile upstream, kept a keen lookout for the dead in the river, and as soon as the yellow, bloated bodies appeared on the surface of the water, he signaled his father, who, with an assistant, put out in a small boat to tow the corpses ashore. For this service and for the coffin he received 75 gold cents a body, and rich, in a Chinaman’s eyes, had the old fellow grown with his years of watching during the spring and summer floods.Ascending the gorges of the Yang-Tse-Kiang by boat is a trip which, under the most propitious circumstances, is fraught with danger and inconvenience, but especially so during the months of July and August. But we ascended the most dangerous parts of the famed canyons, passed through the Tan Hsin, Sung Poa Tso Tan and other dreaded rapids. Though the trip proved at all times exciting, there was no time that danger was sufficiently apparent to cause Mrs. McIlrath to change color or to reach out for her cork life-belt. Nevertheless, I would not undertake the journey again were it to lead through scenery doubly grand and were the passage to be paid handsomely in gold. The entire pleasure is lost in efforts to keep the Chinese crew in marching order, and, as they must be coerced into activity, the journey may be said to resemble an outing in the Grand Canyon with a herd of swine to drive. The expression is homely, but just and fitting. We sighted the beautiful Teng Hsiang gorge on Aug. 8, but long before we entered it the country became hilly, often resembling the beautiful Palisades of the Hudson. In America, where all things necessary to facilitate transportation and commerce are deemed absolutely necessary, such feats as the Port Huron Canal and the removal of Hell Gate are accepted by the public when the feats are accomplished as simply the result of need, but in China a mere passage a few miles long, blasted out of a mountain side, is a rare spectacle to behold. As our boat slipped along the rocks the beauty of the gorge disclosed itself, but to my mind the scenery of the Teng Hsiang gorge did not compare in grandeur to that encountered upon the rapids of Shan-Tou-Ping. The rapids are caused by jutting shells of rock running out into the river several hundred feet. As the water is deep, and the current runs eight miles an hour, the rapids are terrific. Had our boat broken loose and gone down stream onto the boulders, which reared their heads just above the water, boat, baggage, bicycles, and probably tourists would have been lost.The mast of all boats ascending the Yang-Tse-Kiang is situatedalmost amidships, just a little forward, and to the base of this is fastened the tracking line of bamboo. From the top of the spar runs another line fastened to the towline about thirty feet out from the mast, and by pulling in or slacking this line the tracking line may be raised to the top of the spar, if desired, this to enable the towline to clear the rocks on the shore, which are occasionally as high as the mast. Forty coolies composed our crew on shore in charge of the tracking line, and as the “Defender,” trembling and groaning, pushed her nose into the rushing water the crew ashore chanted and groaned, as, bent forward until one hand almost touched the ground, they moved us up stream. The night of our arrival in Kwei Chou Foo, an old and dilapidated, yet a city of great importance, Mrs. McIlrath and I slept on deck, as was our custom, awakened the next morning at daybreak. At 9 o’clock I sent my letter of introduction, card and passport to the Tai Foo by the captain of the lifeboat, and an hour later we received his card, and word that at noon an official would call for us. In the meantime our apartments were being prepared in the palace of the Tai Foo. He sent three chairs for us, one for myself, one for Mrs. McIlrath, and one for Leo, our Chinese interpreter, a Shanghai boy, who was quite driven out of his wits at the idea that one so high in rank should condescend to provide a chair for a foreigner’s servant. The Tai Foo was a tall, slender man, middle-aged, and very intellectual in appearance. Beckoning us to a sumptuously furnished reception room, he welcomed us in courtly manner, and with Leo acting as interpreter, he asked the usual questions concerning our trip, the cause for undertaking such a journey, how much I received a month, if I had seen indications of gold and silver ore in China, and endless queries that are kept constantly on hand by the official clan. Gradually the potentate thawed out, his questioning ceased, and he began telling of his own affairs. He laid aside the peacock plumed bonnet and the gold breastplate, and, clad in his blue silk robe, he became simply a well-educated Chinese gentleman. He realized that Japan had annihilated and confiscated China’s navy, defeated her troops and generally “played horse” with the Great Dragon. He also knew that the world was round, and that America and Great Britain were different countries.We were the guests of the Tai Foo for three days, and when we were ready for departure he presented us with a purse of 20 taels, insisting that we accept it to remunerate us for the enjoyment he had derived from our honorable company. As a farewell contribution to our part of the entertainment, I rode the bicycle around the gardens, causing the wives, children andattachésof the Tai Foo to scream with delight, and then call for our chairs. As we took our places inthe gaily papered interior of the sedans, the Foo’s secretary handed me three enormous envelopes covered with imposing seals and large characters. These were letters of commendation to the Shen at Yan Yang Hsien, where we arrived Monday, Aug. 17. There was another official reception for us, with the same pageant of chairs, umbrellas and ponies. We dined with the Shen, who also stocked our boat with dainty dishes, including hams, ducks, chickens, fish and a young pig. The quantity of food provided for us as a single meal would have fed six Americans for several days.The contract I had made with the boatmen called for 21,000 cash, and stipulated that we were to be landed in Wan Hsien in twelve days. The cash had been paid the crew in advance, and as the ship had occupied twenty-three days, I had been liberal in granting the crew extra money, until 17,000 extra cash had been added to the sum. But upon our arrival at Wan Hsien the boatman demanded 7,000 cash more. I had learned from experience that argument with the coolie class did not pay, so when the demand was made I requested that the boatman accompany me to the Shen and allow that official to decide the difficulty. This proposition he accepted, and as soon as we had met the official, presented our passports and letters of introduction, and our boy Leo had handed the Shen my receipts, contract and a statement of the extras paid, we adjourned to the trial room. In vain did our boat captain explain his woes as he knelt upon the stone floor. Unfortunately for himself, he attempted to explain some particular point, and instantly the Shen shouted an order, four coolies seized him, and stretching him upon the floor, administered 400 strokes with a club. I had not expected such an outcome, and when the Shen asked through the interpreter if I was satisfied, I could but answer, “Only too well.” The boatman staggered to his feet, and with piteous moans was thrust into a bamboo cage. This seemed to be carrying things a little too far, and expostulating with the Shen I succeeded in having him released. Paying him 4,000 cash as a recompense, I sent him away, grateful that I had not taken advantage of my influence and allowed him to remain in the filthy bamboo pen.The road from Wan Hsien to Chung King lies directly over the mountains. Knowing that upon our journey we would be unable to ride our bicycles, we engaged coolies to carry them, and taking the conveyance called mountain chairs for the accommodation of ourselves and boy, we left Wan Hsien Aug. 26. The Shen furnished us as an escort two soldiers and four extra coolies, and with these added to our party of five we made quite a little procession as we started on our long tramp. At 4:30 o’clock in the afternoon we halted at a large village thirty miles up the mountain. The rain was pouring, andwhile the coolies prepared a room for us in the inn I hastened to provide dry clothing and medicine for Mrs. McIlrath. She had fallen ill during the morning, and had I known what distress and alarm her indisposition was to cause me I hardly think I should have ever ventured into the interior of China. To be ill in a civilized land, where one has all the advantages of medicine, proper food, bedding and pure air, is trying enough to one’s nerves and peace of mind, but to be stricken in a land 300 miles from a white face, confined in a dark, damp room, centipedes crawling along the walls, rain dropping from the roof, terrible odors from pig pens in the next room, and cesspools of filth in the rear, is calculated to affect any sufferer for the worse. It was midnight before I could quiet my wife by the use of drugs. She insisted upon starting with us the next morning, though so weak she had to be carried to her chair. The rain fell in torrents, and to protect my patient I tied sheets of oil paper over her chair, wrapped her in a flannel blanket, and hung curtains of burlap over the doorway. Her condition did not improve for the next three days. The rain continued to add to our misery and discomfort, but my stock of medicine was running low, and I considered necessary a forced march to Chung King. Several times our coolie chair bearers mutinied, and upon one particular rainy night they gave us the slip, forcing me to send the Shen’s two soldiers after them. They not only deserted, but took with them the chair used in carrying Mrs. McIlrath. But the soldiers were faithful to the friends of their master, and captured and brought back the truants. It was only by threats to do them bodily harm that I succeeded in making them resume the march next morning. I probably threatened more than I would execute, but prompt action was imperative. It was either to move rapidly toward Chung King, or lose by an agonizing death the little companion of my travels and of my life. The path was miserable, the rain fell in a drizzle, and the country was half hidden in banks of fog, but never did blue skies, green grass, and the sweet air of freedom appear more welcome to a released convict than did that dreary view as we set forward for relief.
The rain which we had looked for did not disappoint us. The water poured steadily for three days following the Fourth of July, and on the 7th the water rose twenty feet in eighteen hours. It continued rising to flood height, and we were imprisoned at Ping Shan Pa until July 26, our boat tied to the trees of an orange grove which sheltered a coffin shop kept by an old man. The Yang-Tse-Kiang was in its fiercest mood, and none better than ourselves were in a position to witness its terrors. Our boat was turned and twisted as if struggling to break its bonds. Great volumes of under-current burst in swirls under our bow and stern, pounding as they struck the flat bottom of the boat as if we had been crashed on a submerged rock. The yellow waters seemed to leap in their course, all semblance to a stream being lost. Trees, torn up by their roots, leaped full length from the whirlpools and were drawn down into the vortex of the next. A capsized junk shot past, and as it was near the shore a half-dozen boatmen left the bank to seize the prize. It was an exciting sight. The crews raved, yelled and stamped on the deck like demons, risking their lives for the sake of a few pieces of silver. When they succeeded in beaching the junk, every plank, nail, bitof cargo, and even the bodies on board, were theirs to possess or claim reward for. The rampage of the river gave the coffin shop proprietor several days of grewsome work. Within twenty-four hours the gray-queued old fellow rescued six bodies from the whirlpools in front of his establishment. His son, stationed on a crag half a mile upstream, kept a keen lookout for the dead in the river, and as soon as the yellow, bloated bodies appeared on the surface of the water, he signaled his father, who, with an assistant, put out in a small boat to tow the corpses ashore. For this service and for the coffin he received 75 gold cents a body, and rich, in a Chinaman’s eyes, had the old fellow grown with his years of watching during the spring and summer floods.
Ascending the gorges of the Yang-Tse-Kiang by boat is a trip which, under the most propitious circumstances, is fraught with danger and inconvenience, but especially so during the months of July and August. But we ascended the most dangerous parts of the famed canyons, passed through the Tan Hsin, Sung Poa Tso Tan and other dreaded rapids. Though the trip proved at all times exciting, there was no time that danger was sufficiently apparent to cause Mrs. McIlrath to change color or to reach out for her cork life-belt. Nevertheless, I would not undertake the journey again were it to lead through scenery doubly grand and were the passage to be paid handsomely in gold. The entire pleasure is lost in efforts to keep the Chinese crew in marching order, and, as they must be coerced into activity, the journey may be said to resemble an outing in the Grand Canyon with a herd of swine to drive. The expression is homely, but just and fitting. We sighted the beautiful Teng Hsiang gorge on Aug. 8, but long before we entered it the country became hilly, often resembling the beautiful Palisades of the Hudson. In America, where all things necessary to facilitate transportation and commerce are deemed absolutely necessary, such feats as the Port Huron Canal and the removal of Hell Gate are accepted by the public when the feats are accomplished as simply the result of need, but in China a mere passage a few miles long, blasted out of a mountain side, is a rare spectacle to behold. As our boat slipped along the rocks the beauty of the gorge disclosed itself, but to my mind the scenery of the Teng Hsiang gorge did not compare in grandeur to that encountered upon the rapids of Shan-Tou-Ping. The rapids are caused by jutting shells of rock running out into the river several hundred feet. As the water is deep, and the current runs eight miles an hour, the rapids are terrific. Had our boat broken loose and gone down stream onto the boulders, which reared their heads just above the water, boat, baggage, bicycles, and probably tourists would have been lost.
The mast of all boats ascending the Yang-Tse-Kiang is situatedalmost amidships, just a little forward, and to the base of this is fastened the tracking line of bamboo. From the top of the spar runs another line fastened to the towline about thirty feet out from the mast, and by pulling in or slacking this line the tracking line may be raised to the top of the spar, if desired, this to enable the towline to clear the rocks on the shore, which are occasionally as high as the mast. Forty coolies composed our crew on shore in charge of the tracking line, and as the “Defender,” trembling and groaning, pushed her nose into the rushing water the crew ashore chanted and groaned, as, bent forward until one hand almost touched the ground, they moved us up stream. The night of our arrival in Kwei Chou Foo, an old and dilapidated, yet a city of great importance, Mrs. McIlrath and I slept on deck, as was our custom, awakened the next morning at daybreak. At 9 o’clock I sent my letter of introduction, card and passport to the Tai Foo by the captain of the lifeboat, and an hour later we received his card, and word that at noon an official would call for us. In the meantime our apartments were being prepared in the palace of the Tai Foo. He sent three chairs for us, one for myself, one for Mrs. McIlrath, and one for Leo, our Chinese interpreter, a Shanghai boy, who was quite driven out of his wits at the idea that one so high in rank should condescend to provide a chair for a foreigner’s servant. The Tai Foo was a tall, slender man, middle-aged, and very intellectual in appearance. Beckoning us to a sumptuously furnished reception room, he welcomed us in courtly manner, and with Leo acting as interpreter, he asked the usual questions concerning our trip, the cause for undertaking such a journey, how much I received a month, if I had seen indications of gold and silver ore in China, and endless queries that are kept constantly on hand by the official clan. Gradually the potentate thawed out, his questioning ceased, and he began telling of his own affairs. He laid aside the peacock plumed bonnet and the gold breastplate, and, clad in his blue silk robe, he became simply a well-educated Chinese gentleman. He realized that Japan had annihilated and confiscated China’s navy, defeated her troops and generally “played horse” with the Great Dragon. He also knew that the world was round, and that America and Great Britain were different countries.
We were the guests of the Tai Foo for three days, and when we were ready for departure he presented us with a purse of 20 taels, insisting that we accept it to remunerate us for the enjoyment he had derived from our honorable company. As a farewell contribution to our part of the entertainment, I rode the bicycle around the gardens, causing the wives, children andattachésof the Tai Foo to scream with delight, and then call for our chairs. As we took our places inthe gaily papered interior of the sedans, the Foo’s secretary handed me three enormous envelopes covered with imposing seals and large characters. These were letters of commendation to the Shen at Yan Yang Hsien, where we arrived Monday, Aug. 17. There was another official reception for us, with the same pageant of chairs, umbrellas and ponies. We dined with the Shen, who also stocked our boat with dainty dishes, including hams, ducks, chickens, fish and a young pig. The quantity of food provided for us as a single meal would have fed six Americans for several days.
The contract I had made with the boatmen called for 21,000 cash, and stipulated that we were to be landed in Wan Hsien in twelve days. The cash had been paid the crew in advance, and as the ship had occupied twenty-three days, I had been liberal in granting the crew extra money, until 17,000 extra cash had been added to the sum. But upon our arrival at Wan Hsien the boatman demanded 7,000 cash more. I had learned from experience that argument with the coolie class did not pay, so when the demand was made I requested that the boatman accompany me to the Shen and allow that official to decide the difficulty. This proposition he accepted, and as soon as we had met the official, presented our passports and letters of introduction, and our boy Leo had handed the Shen my receipts, contract and a statement of the extras paid, we adjourned to the trial room. In vain did our boat captain explain his woes as he knelt upon the stone floor. Unfortunately for himself, he attempted to explain some particular point, and instantly the Shen shouted an order, four coolies seized him, and stretching him upon the floor, administered 400 strokes with a club. I had not expected such an outcome, and when the Shen asked through the interpreter if I was satisfied, I could but answer, “Only too well.” The boatman staggered to his feet, and with piteous moans was thrust into a bamboo cage. This seemed to be carrying things a little too far, and expostulating with the Shen I succeeded in having him released. Paying him 4,000 cash as a recompense, I sent him away, grateful that I had not taken advantage of my influence and allowed him to remain in the filthy bamboo pen.
The road from Wan Hsien to Chung King lies directly over the mountains. Knowing that upon our journey we would be unable to ride our bicycles, we engaged coolies to carry them, and taking the conveyance called mountain chairs for the accommodation of ourselves and boy, we left Wan Hsien Aug. 26. The Shen furnished us as an escort two soldiers and four extra coolies, and with these added to our party of five we made quite a little procession as we started on our long tramp. At 4:30 o’clock in the afternoon we halted at a large village thirty miles up the mountain. The rain was pouring, andwhile the coolies prepared a room for us in the inn I hastened to provide dry clothing and medicine for Mrs. McIlrath. She had fallen ill during the morning, and had I known what distress and alarm her indisposition was to cause me I hardly think I should have ever ventured into the interior of China. To be ill in a civilized land, where one has all the advantages of medicine, proper food, bedding and pure air, is trying enough to one’s nerves and peace of mind, but to be stricken in a land 300 miles from a white face, confined in a dark, damp room, centipedes crawling along the walls, rain dropping from the roof, terrible odors from pig pens in the next room, and cesspools of filth in the rear, is calculated to affect any sufferer for the worse. It was midnight before I could quiet my wife by the use of drugs. She insisted upon starting with us the next morning, though so weak she had to be carried to her chair. The rain fell in torrents, and to protect my patient I tied sheets of oil paper over her chair, wrapped her in a flannel blanket, and hung curtains of burlap over the doorway. Her condition did not improve for the next three days. The rain continued to add to our misery and discomfort, but my stock of medicine was running low, and I considered necessary a forced march to Chung King. Several times our coolie chair bearers mutinied, and upon one particular rainy night they gave us the slip, forcing me to send the Shen’s two soldiers after them. They not only deserted, but took with them the chair used in carrying Mrs. McIlrath. But the soldiers were faithful to the friends of their master, and captured and brought back the truants. It was only by threats to do them bodily harm that I succeeded in making them resume the march next morning. I probably threatened more than I would execute, but prompt action was imperative. It was either to move rapidly toward Chung King, or lose by an agonizing death the little companion of my travels and of my life. The path was miserable, the rain fell in a drizzle, and the country was half hidden in banks of fog, but never did blue skies, green grass, and the sweet air of freedom appear more welcome to a released convict than did that dreary view as we set forward for relief.