PROSPECTIVE TRADE OUTLOOK.
Before giving a description of this country, however, I must say a word about the West of Yün-nan, and the prospects of trade across the Burmese frontier. The most casual reader will have observed that the province of Yün-nan is covered with ruined cities, towns, and villages; that its soil, fruitful without a doubt, is only partly cultivated; and that its population is exceedingly scant. True it is, immigration is taking place from the northern province of Ssŭ-ch’uan, and lands laid waste by the rebellion are being taken up; but the process is very slow, for, among the hardy Ssŭ-ch’uanese, Yün-nan has an evil name, and they are loth to quit their own productive fields to till what is at present inferior land. Room must, however, be found for the ever-increasing population of Ssŭ-ch’uan, which is surely destined to develop both Kuei-chow and Yün-nan; yet many years must elapse before such a happy consummation can be effected. Until that time comes, no great development of our trade with Western China through Burmah need be looked for. It will be said that these are the views of a pessimist, and that the introduction of railways would put new life into the country.Granted that there are people foolish enough to furnish capital for the construction of railways through an impossible country—that is, supposing the necessary permission to have been obtained—I have yet to learn that there can be trade without trade-products, and that shareholders would expect no remuneration from their capital. It will be time enough to think of railways when half the province of Yün-nan is under cultivation and some of its dead industries have been revived.
THROUGH THE WEST OF KUEI-CHOW TO THE YANG-TSZE.
The advantages of scholarsen routefor examination—High-road converted into a reservoir—Quartered in a chimney—Intolerable inquisitiveness—Travellers, beware of T’ang-t’ang!—The Yün-nan-Kuei-chow border—Lakes and their drainage—Again among the Miao-tzŭ—The valley of the Ch’i-hsing River—Bark paper—“Heaven’s Bridge” and its mining catastrophe—The copper traffic—Across the Ch’ih-shui River into Ssŭ-ch’uan—Over the Hsüeh-shan Pass—A child of nature—A refractory roadside deity—Down the Yung-ning River—A narrow escape—Down the Yang-tsze to Ch’ung-k’ing.
The advantages of scholarsen routefor examination—High-road converted into a reservoir—Quartered in a chimney—Intolerable inquisitiveness—Travellers, beware of T’ang-t’ang!—The Yün-nan-Kuei-chow border—Lakes and their drainage—Again among the Miao-tzŭ—The valley of the Ch’i-hsing River—Bark paper—“Heaven’s Bridge” and its mining catastrophe—The copper traffic—Across the Ch’ih-shui River into Ssŭ-ch’uan—Over the Hsüeh-shan Pass—A child of nature—A refractory roadside deity—Down the Yung-ning River—A narrow escape—Down the Yang-tsze to Ch’ung-k’ing.
Having in a previous chapter described the country between Kuei-yang Fu and the capital of Yün-nan, I need offer no apology for requesting my reader to accompany me once more into the plain of Chan-i Chou, now yellow with golden wheat, and thus obviate the necessity of describing another weary ride over the red uplands of Eastern Yün-nan. Yet I would fain impart that confidence which was placed in me by some scholars who were my companions during these five stages; and, to this end, I must first say a few words on the subject of competitive examinations in China.
With few exceptions, these examinations are open to any candidate who thinks he possesses sufficientability to pass. The lowest degree is that of licentiate, and the examination takes place at the capital of the prefecture within which the candidate’s district happens to be. The next degree is that of provincial graduate, the examination for which is also triennial, and is held in the capital of the province. The candidates for this second degree are mostly those who have taken the degree of licentiate in open competition. The competition for the highest degree, that of metropolitan graduate, takes place at Peking in the year following the examinations for provincial graduates throughout the Empire, to whom alone it is open. Success in this final examination is always a certain stepping-stone to official employment. I speak of the civil, not of the military service. To provincial graduates proceeding to compete at the metropolis, passes are issued on application, and these, pasted on their cases, exempt their baggage from examination and taxationen route. This is no small matter, for a graduate’s effects usually consist of some of the products or manufactures of his province, for which he can find a ready market in Peking. My companions were three in number, and they were jointly interested in a caravan of seventeen pack-animals laden with protected cases, which they unhesitatingly told me contained opium and marble from Ta-li. It would be a consideration to many a Scotch student if, in going up to London to compete in the Civil Service Examinations, they were allowed to carry with them as baggage a few kegs of duty-free whiskey!
QUARTERED IN A CHIMNEY.
In parts of the Chan-i plain, which we entered on the afternoon of the 22nd of May, some little anxietywas being manifested as to the supply of water for irrigation purposes. At one spot we found the high-road dammed, and my followers had to doff their nether garments before they could get through. The luckless peasants did not escape considerable abuse. “How dare you,” rose the angry shouts, “turn the roads into reservoirs?” A low undulating plateau, only partly cultivated, succeeds the plain to the north-east. The few villages dotted about were partly concealed in groves of walnut trees, and the encircling crops of oats, potatoes, beans, buckwheat, Indian corn, wheat, and poppy were decidedly inferior. What else could be expected of a light clay soil? There was one redeeming feature about this plateau, however, which should not be passed over. The roads were available for cart-traffic. Would our quarters be sufficiently comfortable to detain us over the 24th of May? was the question that occupied my mind as I rode into the village of Lai-yuan-p’u on the evening of the 23rd, drenched to the skin, and far in advance of my followers. We had been overtaken in the open by a tremendous rain-storm, and I left the caravan and pushed on for shelter. I immediately selected the loft as my share of the inn, and everything promised well until my men turned up, when a fire had to be lit to dry their clothes and cook our food. It was only then that I discovered that the smoke had no outlet except through the loft, that I had, in fact, taken up my quarters in the chimney of the inn. The loft had to be abandoned for a mud cell on the ground floor, and the morrow’s holiday had to be dispensed with.
To the north of Lai-yuan-p’u the road passes through a short barrier of rocky heights, and enters a small plain containing a village and a lakelet to the north-east of it. To this succeeds an undulating, all but uncultivated, rain-washed plateau, where the road was in many places swept away—deep nullahs showing the direction the torrents had taken. This plateau was not altogether without value, for it contained numerous wells or pits whence coloured clays for the manufacture of earthenware were being extracted.
Here the people were of a very inquisitive turn of mind. To have to take one’s meals in a chair is bad enough—infinitely preferable, nevertheless, to a smoky, dirty, mud cell; but to be surrounded by a mob of gaping men, women, and children, watching every mouthful, does not tend to the preservation of temper, and it required all the banter I could command to make even a temporary impression and keep the peace. This was our experience a few miles to the south of Hsüan-wei Chou, the last city through which we had to pass before entering the province of Kuei-chow.
This city, which is of very little importance, lies on the left bank of a stream flowing south-east to swell the West River, and not the Yang-tsze, as some map-makers would try to make us believe. Coal and iron are both found in the neighbourhood, and a coolie, with a load of the latter on his back, asked us whether it was the case, as he had heard, that the Governor-General of Yün-nan and Kuei-chow was in want of all the available metal for the manufacture of guns. I regretted my inability to satisfy the curiosity of this would-betrader. Lime is also found and was being extensively used as manure.
TRAVELLERS, BEWARE OF T’ANG-T’ANG!
T’ang-t’ang, the terminus of the first stage from and to the north-east of Hsüan-wei, is approached through a series of narrow valleys separated by precipitous hills. It lies on a hill-side near the meeting of two streams. How well I remember the miserable village! Travellers, beware of T’ang-t’ang! Its bugs were ravenous, and a sorry figure we all cut next day as we hurried to the Kuei-chow frontier.
From T’ang-t’ang the road ascends northwards to the hamlet of Mu-kua-shao, whence commences a steep descent to a narrow valley which leads to the K’o-tu River flowing east. On the way down, we passed through the hamlet of Shui-t’ang-p’u, insignificant in itself, but destined at some future time to be of greater importance.
A few hundred yards to the south-east of the hamlet there is a silver mine, which may some day prove productive. The owners bewailed to me their inability to make the mine do more than pay the expenses of working. Yet what could be expected from the ordinary Chinese furnace which was employed to smelt the ore?
Although a narrow strip of land on the north bank of the river is within the jurisdiction of Yün-nan, the K’o-tu may, for all practical purposes, be considered the boundary at this point of the Yün-nan and Kuei-chow provinces.
A plaited bamboo rope was stretched across the river—about sixty feet broad—and used by the ferrymen for hauling their boat backwards and forwards.High cliffs, up which the road zigzags, form the north bank and tower above the river. This borderland is very rich in metals; silver, as I have just said, is found to the south of the river, and to the immediate north copper and lead are both worked. The copper reefs would appear to run right across Southern Ssŭ-ch’uan and north-eastern Yün-nan into the west of Kuei-chow.
Wei-ning Chou, the first city within the Kuei-chow borders, is picturesquely situated on rising ground, a few hundred yards from the northern margin of the eastern portion of a large lake, which, like the smaller basins a few miles to the north, would appear to have no outlet. The same phenomenon, if it may be called a phenomenon, is observable in the Chao-t’ung plain in north-eastern Yün-nan. We have already seen, however, that underground rivers are very common in Kuei-chow and Yün-nan, and it is not impossible that the surplus waters of the lake may find their way by underground channels into the head-waters of the K’o-tu River, which is over a thousand feet below the level of the Wei-ning plain. To reach the city we skirted the eastern shore of the lake, crossing a small three-arched stone bridge which spans a rivulet draining a valley to the south-east and entering the lake. To the north-east of Wei-ning, the paved road, which runs through small basins full of coal, was in such an excellent state of repair that our animals fought shy of it, preferring the rough grassy ground through which it passes. Here we found ourselves again among Miao-tzŭ, busy tilling their fields. The women were as usual clad in their native dress, while the men wore coarse hempen clothes in Chinese style.
“LEATHER” PAPER.
Twenty miles north of Wei-ning, the road goes east for four days through rough mountainous country to the busy city of Pi-chieh Hsien, on the left bank of a tributary of the Wu Chiang, and nearly 5000 feet above the level of the sea. Twenty-five miles to the east of the city is the second depression of any importance on the road from Yün-nan Fu to the Yang-tsze. This depression forms the bed of the Ch’i-hsing River, one of the two main branches of the Wu Chiang, and is little more than four thousand feet above the level of the sea. The river is crossed by a stone bridge of two arches, with spans of eighteen and fifteen yards respectively, with a centre pier five yards broad, so that the total breadth of the Ch’i-hsing at this point is thirty-eight yards. The bridge is roofed and adorned with three pavilions, one at either end and one on the centre pier. Although the wooden floor is thirty feet above the river, I was told that it was by no means safe during floods, and that the water frequently swept over it. Fifty yards to the north of the present structure are the two piers of a former stone bridge, which came to grief during a flood. Pi-chieh is a great depôt for Ssŭ-ch’uan salt, which finds its way to Western Kuei-chow by the Yung-ning River as far as Yung-ning Hsien, and thence overland by pack animals and carriers. In Pi-chieh I saw a quantity of that famous tough paper which is manufactured in the province of Kuei-chow, and which is wrongly called “leather” paper. The mistake is pardonable, for the character which means “leather” also means “bark;” and the paper is made from the fibrous inner bark of theBroussonetia papyrifera, Vent.
There is considerable romance in the names which the Chinese apply to their cities and villages. At the end of the first stage from Pi-chieh is the village of Chin-yin-shan, the characters for which, literally translated, mean “Gold-silver-mountain.” True, the street occupies the face of a hill; but the precious metals, to judge from the surroundings, were conspicuous by their absence.
It not unfrequently happens, however, that the name is in strict accordance with actual facts. On our second stage from Wei-ning Chou we passed through a village called T’ien-ch’iao, or T’ien-shêng-ch’iao—“Heaven’s Bridge,” “Heaven-born Bridge,” or “Natural Bridge”—which is really built on the top of a limestone cavern through which a stream has pushed its way. Some twenty years ago this latter village was the scene of a dreadful catastrophe. Gold and silver, so runs the story, were both found in a mountain a little to the east of the high-road, and one day, when the miners were all at work, the tunnelling collapsed and buried every soul. Since that time all attempts to find the ore have failed.
Squalid though the villages were, evident signs of improvement were manifesting themselves, and the following proclamation, which had lately been issued by the Financial Commissioner of the province of Yün-nan, and which was widely posted along the whole route, may have accounted for the unwonted energy which we observed:—“The copper, which the mines in Yün-nan are bound to supply annually for use in Peking, was in former years conveyed to Lu Chou for export, and atthat time there was a flourishing trade along the route. Within recent years the sea route has been attempted, with the result that this trade has dwindled into insignificance. The Board of Revenue has now decided that the copper shall be carried by the old route, so that people and traders of Yün-nan and Kuei-chow may look forward to more prosperous times. The copper from the prefectures of Tung-ch’uan and Chao-t’ung will go to Hsü-chou Fu [Sui Fu], and from the district of K’un-ming [within which the capital of Yün-nan lies] to Hsü-yung T’ing [the highest navigable point on the Yung-ning River, which enters the Yang-tsze to the west of Lu Chou]. On these two important routes, by which the copper is to be conveyed into Ssŭ-ch’uan, make all haste to open hostelries for the accommodation of these consignments of copper and their carriers. This will cause a development of trade generally, and traders and people along these roads may depend on a profitable business.”
A PLEASURE IN STORE.
In many places to the north of Pi-chieh the high-road reminded me of a country lane at home. It was frequently hedged with dense bushes of sweetbriar and hawthorn laden with blossom, and had it not been for the universal poppy, the resemblance would have been far more complete.
The 6th of June was a day of great excitement amongst my followers, as we were to cross the Kuei-chow frontier and rest for the night within the Ssŭ-ch’uan border. A dense mist obscured everything at the start, and it was not till the great event of the day—the descent to the Ch’ih-shui River—began, that wewere enabled to get a view of the country that lay before us. The village of Kao-shan-p’u stands on the southern rim of the third great depression between Yün-nan Fu and the Yang-tsze. Beyond the deep defile lies the Hsüeh-shan range running east and west, over 5000 feet above the level of the sea and at least a thousand feet higher than the southern rim. Up its face zigzags the narrow stone road, visible almost to the summit of the range. Down from the southern rim runs the roadway for a distance of tenli—equal to nearly three miles—to the right bank of the river flowing swiftly eastward. The river, which is eighty yards broad, is about two thousand feet above the level of the sea, and, as it enters the Yang-tsze at the city Ho-chiang Hsien ninety-five miles to the south-west of Ch’ung-k’ing, it is not navigable in its upper waters, there being a fall of about thirteen hundred feet. Few facilities are provided for the passage of the immense traffic which exists between the province of Ssŭ-ch’uan and the provinces of Kuei-chow and Yün-nan; a couple of ferry-boats, each sixty feet long, and capable of carrying ten pack-animals and their drivers, afford the only means of crossing.
The white-washed houses of the village of Ch’ih-shui Hsün or Ho-pei Hsün, as it is also called, on the north bank straggle from the mountain foot a short distance up, and here we found shelter for the night. Next morning, we ascended by a series of steps for a distance of twenty-fiveli—nearly eight miles—to a solitary temple crowning a ridge which the road surmounts.
If I assume—and it is no great assumption—that the river forms the apex of a right-angled triangle with sides three and eight miles long respectively, a simple mathematical calculation will give the distance in a straight line from rim to rim. Now, this is the route by which it has been proposed to carry a railway from Burmah through the Shan States and Yün-nan to Ssŭ-ch’uan, and, granting that the necessary permission could be obtained, who will undertake to bridge the chasm and who will pay the piper?
A CHILD OF NATURE.
The descent of the Hsüeh-shan on the north side is very precipitous, the road winding downwards to the hamlet and coal mines of Lan-ma-lu, where a somewhat curious spectacle attracted my attention. Seated near the mouth of one of the two tunnels was a begrimed and dirty miner clad in the garb of Eden prior to the Fall, and in his hands clasping a tiny red flower, which he was caressingly applying from time to time to his olfactory organ. Here, surely, was a case in which a man was to be judged not by his exterior, but by his inclinations and actions.
It was on the following day, when we were making our way through the ridges which bar the path to the north of the Hsüeh-shan, that we came up with a refractory roadside deity. His tongue, which slightly protruded, had been lavishly smeared with opium, and, as might naturally be supposed, he appeared to object strongly to the drug in its crude form, for it had trickled down and disfigured his neck and breast!
From the market-town of Mo-ni-ch’ang, our resting place for the night after the passage of the Hsüeh-shan,the road runs northwards for two days through valleys and hilly country to the Yung-ning River and the city of Yung-ning Hsien, from which the river derives its name. In one or two of the valleys there was no natural outlet for the streams to which the encircling hills gave birth, and exits had been cut through the solid rocky heights. Yung-ning Hsien and Hsü-yung T’ing occupy the right and left banks of the river respectively, a stone bridge connecting the two cities. Here we found ourselves in the centre of bustle and business, and, what delighted us more than anything else, in direct water communication with the Yang-tsze and Ch’ung-k’ing. Our overland journeying was, for the present, at an end.
In Chapter IV., I referred to the Hêng River and described our descent of the Nan-kuang River, which is blocked near its entrance to the Yang-tsze by a rocky reef barring navigation. On reaching the district city on the 9th of June, I immediately proceeded to make arrangements for our conveyance to Lu Chou, a great trade centre on the north bank of the Yang-tsze, a few miles to the east of its junction with the Yung-ning. I had little difficulty in engaging for a small sum a boat which had just discharged its cargo of salt and was about to descend. It lay with a number of others of the same class under the walls of the city, and on the morning of the 10th of June we embarked, leaving our animals to be walked overland to Ch’ung-k’ing in charge of the horse-boy. Although our boat, which was narrow and about fifty feet in length, drew little water, we had no sooner got her bows down stream than she groundedin mid-river, necessitating several of the crew jumping overboard and pushing her off the shallows.
A PERILOUS POSITION.
For some miles north of Yung-ning Hsien the river retains its breadth of fifty yards, flowing between low hills which were well cultivated. These give place to a rocky country, huge boulders lining the banks and encroaching on the river’s bed to such an extent as to leave only sufficient breadth for one boat to pass. This cooping-up of the waters and declivity in the bed give rise to a series of rapids, two of which are really dangerous. In this, what may be called, mid-section of the river, oars were abandoned (there not being room to use them), and the navigation was conducted by means of a long spar which projected over the bows, and had often as many as six of the crew hanging on to its butt end. At one of the dangerous rapids we narrowly escaped being dashed to pieces. The boat was rushing down at full speed through huge boulders to a four foot fall, when the bow spar snapped in two, the projecting part falling into the river, the butt end rolling on deck and the crew sprawling over and under it. Amid their frantic yells the steersman, fortunately, did not lose his head, and succeeded in bringing us up alongside the rocks just above the fall. We were now perfectly helpless, and the greater part of the afternoon of the 11th was spent by the skipper in visiting adjacent villages in search of a new spar. He was at length successful, and over the fall we went, the planks of the boat quivering under us.
To the north of the rocky section the country opens out, gently undulating and cultivated; the slopingbanks of the river, which here attains a breadth of a hundred yards, were fringed with feathery bamboos, the current became actually sluggish, and trackers were sent on shore to expedite the descent. The Yung-ning loses itself peacefully in the Yang-tsze at the district city of Na-ch’i Hsien, which lies on the right bank of both rivers. Under the busy market-town of Lien-ch’ien-tzŭ, which occupies the bend opposite Na-ch’i, lay a fleet of about fifty salt junks ready to ascend to Yung-ning Hsien. They were summoning their crews by beat of gong, when we issued from the river on the morning of the 12th of June.
I must not leave the Yung-ning River without saying a few words as to its importance as a trade route. By it, Western Kuei-chow is supplied with salt from Ssŭ-ch’uan, principally from the Tzŭ-liu-ching wells, and it is the main thoroughfare for the distribution of native cottons, manufactured in Ssŭ-ch’uan from raw cotton from the Central Provinces of China, required by Western Kuei-chow and Eastern Yün-nan. Foreign cottons go as far as Sui Fu, and thence by way of the Hêng and Nan-kuang Rivers to Northern and Eastern Yün-nan.
At noon we lay under the walls of Lu Chou, and soon found a comfortable passenger boat, into which I forthwith transhipped all my followers, and early next morning we were off. The swollen waters of the Yang-tsze carried us swiftly eastward, and, on the afternoon of the 14th of June, we moored under the southern wall of Ch’ung-k’ing, after an absence of one hundred and twenty-four days.
TO THE WHITE WAX COUNTRY, THE SACRED MOUNT O-MEI, AND THE HIGHEST NAVIGABLE POINT ON THE YANG-TSZE.
An unfortunate start—North to Ho Chou—Chinese Soy—Varnish and its collection—Young trees from the old—Light-hearted peasants—The garden of Ssŭ-ch’uan—Otter fishing—Man-tzŭ caves—A great sugar country—Glimpse of O-mei—Chief silk country in Western China—Ascent of O-mei—Sweet tea of O-mei—The Golden Summit—The Glory of Buddha—Pilgrims and their devotions—O-mei beggars—A difficult descent—Official obstruction—Sick followers—On the banks of the Ta-tu—Man-tzŭ raids—Down with fever—Guerilla warfare—Hard up for food—An exhausting march—The welcome Yang-tsze—Its highest navigable point—Down the upper rapids—Death of my horse-boy—Back to Ch’ung-k’ing.
An unfortunate start—North to Ho Chou—Chinese Soy—Varnish and its collection—Young trees from the old—Light-hearted peasants—The garden of Ssŭ-ch’uan—Otter fishing—Man-tzŭ caves—A great sugar country—Glimpse of O-mei—Chief silk country in Western China—Ascent of O-mei—Sweet tea of O-mei—The Golden Summit—The Glory of Buddha—Pilgrims and their devotions—O-mei beggars—A difficult descent—Official obstruction—Sick followers—On the banks of the Ta-tu—Man-tzŭ raids—Down with fever—Guerilla warfare—Hard up for food—An exhausting march—The welcome Yang-tsze—Its highest navigable point—Down the upper rapids—Death of my horse-boy—Back to Ch’ung-k’ing.
In the spring of 1884, I received instructions from the Foreign Office to report fully, for the information of the Director of the Royal Gardens at Kew, on the subject of Chinese Insect White Wax, and to collect and transmit specimens illustrative of this remarkable industry. In China, so much of the marvellous is always mixed up with fact that, in order to gain trustworthy information on anything that savours of obscurity, personal observation is essential. To comply with my instructions, therefore, I found it necessary to pay a visit to the centre of this wax culture in the province of Ssŭ-ch’uan, and I resolved to combine with myresearches the ascent of the Sacred Mount O-mei, from whose summit the famous Glory of Buddha is to be seen, and to strike on my way back the highest navigable point on the Yang-tsze. I was, fortunately, able to carry out this programme, and the present and subsequent chapters are devoted to an account of the journey and its results.
In the two preceding years, I had been able so to regulate my departure from Ch’ung-k’ing as to enjoy comparatively cool weather during my journeys, but the fact that the white wax industry is carried on and completed during the summer months, compelled me to delay starting till June. My caravan was much the same as on previous occasions. Had I so willed, I might have ascended the Yang-tsze by boat to Sui Fu and its tributary the Min to Chia-ting, and thus saved myself much overland toil; but, as every explorer knows, the thirst for new fields becomes after a time irresistible and must be satisfied. Boat-travelling would have been altogether too monotonous and uninteresting. My plan, briefly, was to make for Ho Chou, a trade centre on the Chia-ling, which enters the Yang-tsze at Ch’ung-k’ing, strike west in as direct a line as possible to the Min River and Chia-ting, go west to Mount O-mei, then proceed south along the eastern borders of Lolodom to the Yang-tsze, and return, if possible, by water.
The evening of the 1st of June, which was an excessively hot day even for Ch’ung-k’ing, saw all our arrangements completed for a start the following morning. Overnight, thunder and rain raised some doubts whether my followers would be willing to proceed untilthe weather had settled, and when the rain was still descending heavily at daylight, my doubts became almost a certainty. They turned up, however, and begged for delay; but I succeeded in persuading them, by a series of rather doubtful arguments, that the heavens had all but exhausted themselves, and that the sun would show his face before noon. Unfortunately, my prognostications did not come true, and by the time we reached Fu-to’u-kuan we were all drenched. But a start had been effected, and there was no turning back.
A FERTILE DISTRICT.
At Fu-to’u-kuan the road to Ho Chou leaves the highway to the capital, and goes north by west through broken country to avoid the windings of the Chia-ling, which twists and turns from east to west and west to east in its hurry to reach the Yang-tsze. In the bottom lands, on terraced hill-sides, and wherever water could be retained, paddy was planted out; Indian corn, tall millet, [Sorghum vulgare], tobacco, melons, ginger, taros [Arum aquaticum], indigo, beans, and hemp or China grass were everywhere growing luxuriantly. Amid these plots were the farm-houses, the homesteads nestling in clumps of bamboo and fir. Here and there rose a fan-palm and a banyan, and the wood-oil tree was at home on rocky ground. Bushes of scrub-oak occupied uncultivated hill-sides, and plantations of mulberry trees and orange groves were occasionally to be seen. Coal and lime were everywhere abundant. Several small streams flow through this country and swell the Chia-ling.
On the afternoon of the 4th of June, we stood on the northern brink of this broken country, to the north-eastand not far below us stretched a plain, while four miles to the north rose a thirteen-storied pagoda, which marks the approach to the city of Ho Chou. On reaching the pagoda, we found ourselves near the right bank of the Fu Chiang, one of the chief tributaries of the Chia-ling. The busy market town of Nan-ching-kai, which stands on the right bank, seemed to be almost entirely devoted to cotton-weaving; the click-clack of the loom was heard in every street through which we passed to the ferry. Ho Chou occupies low rising ground just above the junction of the two rivers; to it come for distribution the rich and varied products of north-eastern Ssŭ-ch’uan—salt, silk, safflower, lumber, rape-oil, tobacco, grass-cloth, vegetables, spirits, and a whole catalogue of medicines.
A special industry of the city is the manufacture of a soy, which is famous, not only in Ssŭ-ch’uan, but in other provinces. Chinese soy, as is well known, is imported into England in large quantities, and is, I believe, used in the manufacture of sauces. In China itself there is amongst foreigners a decided prejudice against soy, and a fresh arrival is often solemnly assured that it is made of boiled down cockroaches; yet, to the best of my information, it contains nothing more deleterious than the juice of a bean.
THE VARNISH TREE.
On leaving Ho Chou we were again ferried across the Fu Chiang, and soon reached the western rim of the plain. Beyond stretches the same broken hilly country, where I noticed, besides the trees already mentioned, the varnish tree—Rhus vernicifera—growing to a height of about twenty feet. To obtain thevarnish, incisions are made in the bark near the foot of the tree in July and August and slips of bamboo inserted. As in the case of the poppy, the incisions are made at night and the sap collected next morning. On exposure to the air, it quickly assumes a dark brown and ultimately a jet-black colour, and becomes very sticky. It is used for a great variety of purposes, and I may state for the information of those interested in the subject that pure varnish is an excellent natural cement. The chief objection to its employment for this purpose is its black colour; but chemical science might come to the rescue and make it white or colourless.
In this fertile land every available spot is utilised; even on the low dykes which divide the paddy fields, mulberry trees and beans spring up. Great though the quantity of silk produced in the province of Ssŭ-ch’uan is, the output might be quadrupled if some means could be devised for delaying the hatching of the silkworm eggs. The silk season is over, and the trees are still laden with leaves. Here I observed an ingenious device for obtaining young trees from the old; round a promising branch of a tree a piece of bamboo about a foot in length, which has previously been divided into two parts along its length, is tied, and the hollow between the branch and the interior of the bamboo filled with mould. In a short time suckers leave the branch and descend into the mould, and, when they are sufficiently developed, the branch is cut off and planted, the suckers forming the roots of the young tree.
The Ssŭ-ch’uanese are essentially a light-hearted and merry race. I have already mentioned how theboatmen on the Upper Yang-tsze give vent to their feelings in song as they toil upwards through the gorges. In the paddy fields I frequently noticed as many as twenty men and boys advancing in line, nearly knee-deep in mud and water, removing with their toes the weeds from the roots of the young shoots, and firming the latter in the ground. A song with a rousing chorus invariably accompanied the work.
Six miles to the south of T’ung-liang Hsien, the first district city through which we passed to the west of Ho Chou, there is a range of hills, about two thousand feet above the surrounding country, where tea is grown in considerable quantities. The summits of the range, in which coal, iron, and lime are all found, were fringed with firs. On leaving T’ung-liang, which is a centre of cotton-weaving, we succeeded in accomplishing a stage of about twenty miles in a burning temperature, which towards night culminated in a thunder and rain storm, bringing down the thermometer from 90° F., at which it stood at 9P.M.on the 6th, to 69° F. at noon the following day. So pitilessly did the rain continue to descend on the 7th of June, that we had to break the day’s march at eleven o’clock at the city of Ta-tsu Hsien, having only covered ten miles. We were all wet, cold, and dispirited; the only living things that seemed to be positively enjoying themselves were the ducks flapping their wings and wagging their tails on the edges, the bull frogs croaking in the centres, and the swallows skimming low over the surfaces of the flooded paddy-fields. To the east of Ta-tsu we crossed, by a fine stone bridge of five arches, that tributary ofthe T’o River on which we took boat for a short distance last year at the city of Jung-ch’ang farther south.
A CHARMING SPOT.
A long march of nearly thirty miles from Ta-tsu, through a beautiful country, brought us on the evening of the 8th of June to the market-town of Hsing-lung-ch’ang, on the left bank of the Ching-liu, another tributary of the T’o. A slight sketch of this splendid country is applicable to the whole of eastern Ssŭ-ch’uan. On the slope of a red-soiled hill is a clump of bamboos bending their feathery heads before the breeze. Creeping down the bank is the melon with its mottled leaves and large yellow star-shaped flower; and on the edge is a framework supporting ripe cucumbers. Beneath is a plot of taros, with their graceful heart-shaped leaves lowering their tips to the water which half covers their stems, while underneath, terrace after terrace of flooded plots of young paddy, divided by fringes of beans, stretches into the valley, and miniature foamy cascades dash from terrace to terrace to join the gurgling brook below. Frame the picture with tall firs, straight young water-oaks, low umbrageous wood-oil trees, and the palm with fan-shaped leaves, and, if the peasantry of this part of Ssŭ-ch’uan are not content with all this beauty, we will add a rich and fertile soil, and an abundant water supply.
At the western end of Hsing-lung-ch’ang a large stone bridge of seven arches spans the river, here sixty yards in breadth. Instead of crossing the bridge, we hired four small boats, and dropped down stream for a distance of ten miles, where a waterfall, with a drop of from fifteen to twenty feet, obstructs navigation. Theriver teemed with fish, and otter-fishing was in full swing. The net was circular and fringed with sinkers, and the fisherman, standing in the bows of the boat, cast his net with a semicircular sweep, covering a large surface of water. The net disappeared, the fisherman holding on to a rope attached to the centre of the net, where there was also a small circular opening. Drawing the rope gently until the centre of the net appeared above the surface, he seized the otter, which was chained to the boat, and dropped it into the opening. After allowing the otter a short time to rout out the fish from the bottom and drive them upwards, net, fish, and otter were all drawn up together into the boat. The results were fairly successful.
Two miles south-west of the waterfall we again took boat, and descended for seven miles between boulders backed by cliffs full of Man-tzŭ caves. I had already explored similar caves on the right bank of the Chia-ling above Ch’ung-k’ing; but my followers, who had never previously heard of their existence, listened breathlessly to the boatman, who described them as the ancient dwelling-places of the aborigines of the country. These cave-dwellings extend westward to the Min River, along the banks of which they are particularly numerous. Landing on the right bank, we proceeded westward, and soon entered a busy market-town on the left bank of the T’o River, opposite the important district city of Nei-chiang Hsien. This city lies on the high-road from Ch’ung-k’ing to the capital of the province, but, as last year I made a detour in order to visit the salt wells of Tzŭ-liu-ching, it did not at thattime come within our ken. Before striking the river, I noticed a few patches of a plant very much resemblingAbutilon Avicennae, or Ssŭ-ch’uan hemp. There was this important distinction, however, the stems were dark brown, almost black. It was locally calledT’ung-ma. Ropes and sacking are manufactured from its disintegrated bark.
AN EXTENSIVE SUGAR REGION.
Nei-chiang, where we rested for a day, is the centre of an extensive sugar region, and, being in water communication with the Yang-tsze, it has the great advantage of being able to distribute its produce speedily and cheaply. It also exports opium, a little cotton, excellent grass-cloth, silk, wood-oil, and bean-sauce. To the west of the T’o, the soil is lighter than to the east, and there was the necessary adjustment of crops; paddy, of course, filled the valleys, while sugar-cane, ground-nuts, tall millet, buckwheat, and sweet potatoes—Batatas edulis, Chois—covered the hill slopes. Tobacco was also prominent and growing luxuriantly; the tops of the stems had recently been plucked to cause a greater development of the large under leaves.
It took us six days to cross from the T’o to the Min; the country is very similar throughout, the existence of reservoirs showing, however, that the water supply is not so good to the west as to the east of the former river. The crops were the same; but a number of new trees put in an appearance, including the tallow tree—Stillingia sebifera, orSapium sebiferum, Roxb., a bushy thorn some fifteen feet in height—Cudrania triloba, Hance, and the wax tree—Fraxinus Chinensis—a species of ash. A belt of salt wells extends for some miles to the east of the left bank of the Min, where the brine was being raised much in the same way as at Tzŭ-liu-ching.
Two days before reaching the Min, we caught sight of Mount O-mei towering away to the westward. As the river is neared, the road winds between stone cliffs full of ancient cave-dwellings, which are still more numerous on the left bank of the Min itself. Beautiful relief carvings adorned the entrances of many of them. The city of Chia-ting Fu stands on the right bank of the Min at its junction with the T’ung, which consists of the waters of the Ya Ho and Ta-tu, both of which I crossed in their upper reaches last year, and which unite a little to the west of the city. It is the greatest centre of sericulture and silk-weaving in the province, and it marks the eastern boundary of the white wax industry. I spent the 17th of June among the wax trees to the north-east of the city; but, finding that I could conduct my investigations with greater ease and quietude farther west, I resolved to proceed at once to the district city of O-mei Hsien, some twenty miles distant and near to the base of the Sacred Mountain.
PILGRIMS TO MOUNT O-MEI.
We passed through the west gate of Chia-ting soon after daybreak of the 18th of June, accompanied by hundreds of pilgrims of both sexes from all parts of Ssŭ-ch’uan on their way to visit the sacred shrines of O-mei. The road follows the left bank of the Ya Ho till the latter bends southwards, when it crosses a mile of sand and shingle, and again strikes the river at the ferry. From the right bank we entered one of theprettiest and most fertile plains in Western China, watered by streamlets which, rising in the mountains to the west, go to join the Ya and Ta-tu Rivers, are easily available for purposes of irrigation, and fill a perfect network of canals surrounding the plots of land into which the plain is divided. On the divisions of the plots rows of wax trees grew thickly. In the city of O-mei Hsien I spent four days, pursuing my investigations into the subject of wax culture and the general trade of the whole district; and at daylight on the morning of the 23rd, I left with a few of my followers to ascend the mountain. As it was impossible to obtain meat in the sacred precincts of Buddha, we purchased and killed a goat and carried the carcase with us. A stream of pilgrims, each provided with a bundle of joss-sticks, candles in baskets, and small pieces of sandalwood slung in a yellow bag over the shoulder, bore us company. The mountain lies to the south-west of the city; and, issuing from the west gate, we proceeded under the western wall to the south gate, which, at the time of our visit, was closed against a lengthened drought. The road then runs south-west over the plain. Banyans—some of them of immense size—lined the road, and, farther west, wax trees took their place. Shrines and temples were thickly dotted on both sides, and at each of these the pilgrims made obeisance, lighted joss-sticks or candles, and passed on. There was an impressive solemnity in the worship which I have not observed elsewhere in China. No levity broke the living cord of gravity which stretched from shrine to shrine and temple to temple. The wax trees increasedin numbers as we advanced, and the under sides of the boughs and twigs were here and there silvered with the wax; they appeared as if a gentle snowstorm had recently passed over and scattered its flakes on the branches. But trees and temples were not the only things that lined the roadway; beggars, mostly women and girls, were obstinate in their demands for alms, and no sooner had one gone than another appeared. Mount O-mei towered above the other ranges that bound the plain to the south-west, itself the highest point in a range which descends southwards with giant strides and blocks the plain. The gray, rocky, rugged, precipitous face lit up by the morning sun seemed to bid defiance to the pilgrim, while the lower slopes that hid the giant’s feet were dark with pine, broken occasionally by bare patches where cultivation had encroached. Gradually the plain began to undulate, and we soon entered the mountains under pine woods, through patches of tall millet, beans, and Indian corn, and up stone steps—ladders would be a more appropriate term—until at a distance of nearly twenty miles from the city we reached Wan-nien-ssŭ—the “Temple of a Myriad Ages”—where we spent the night.
No sooner had we settled down in the fine clean quarters which the temple affords than the priests came to pay their respects, and regaled me with the “sweet tea,” which the discovery of Mr. Baber has rendered famous. All the way up the mountain side, I had been making enquiries regarding this tea and its preparation, but the evidence was decidedly conflicting. Some said that it was prepared in the ordinary way; others, thatthe leaves were first steeped in molasses. Although the infusion was extremely sweet, I must confess that I failed to detect any flavour of tea. Be it remembered that the Chinese never take sugar in their tea. The priests told me that the plant, whence the leaves are picked, grows in only one gorge in the mountain. The leaves are large and do not bear the slightest resemblance to the tea-leaf. I subsequently forwarded a packet of this “tea” to Hankow to be tasted, and the reply of an expert came back prompt and concise, “I never tasted such muck in all my life!” But all doubts have recently been set at rest, for the plant which provides the leaves has been identified as theViburnum phlebotrichum.