Winter pears from 6 to 15 to 25 to 50 cash each; vegetables in the same proportion.
Winter pears from 6 to 15 to 25 to 50 cash each; vegetables in the same proportion.
Another unaccountable calamity befell these unfortunate people, in the shape of the sudden appearance of a mighty army of mice, which, just at the time when the grain was ready for reaping, devoured up the entire crops in the north and west valleys. From whence they sprung, or whither they disappeared, nobody knew. After such misfortunes, it is hard to realize how the people managed to exist at all.
It was rumoured that the Emperor had sent money to help them, but even if it reached them, it would have been useless in a place where there was no food to buy. All the grain captured from the rebels had been expended in feeding the soldiers.
It would appear that the severe and cruel treatment by both soldiers and the people displayed on the Mohammedans who remained, and the massacre of many hundreds of others who had submitted, notably at To-Pa, their chief stronghold, would merely have the effect of sowing the seeds of a future and more disastrous rebellion.
There is no doubt that the hatred between the Mohammedans and Chinese is more intense than ever. There are, I believe, still some thirty or forty thousand Mohammedans left in the north and south-east valleys. Were these to rise, there is the still more serious possibility of the Government Mohammedan soldiers casting in their lot with them. Were such a coalition to take place, very grievous trouble would be caused, and the north-west provinces would, before very long, be in the hands of the rebels.
It would be wise for the Chinese Government to enquire into the cause of the last rebellion, and by that means discover a remedy to prevent another one. Like the majority of wars, the cause was a religious one. It was, I am told, merely due to the interference of a Chinese official in a religious squabble between two Mohammedan sects called the white and black caps.
The judgment finally given was considered to be a one-sided decision, and ignited the first spark of the rebellion. Had the difference that had arisen between these two fanatical sects been entrusted to the arbitration of a few Mohammedan representatives chosen from each party, an amicable understanding might have been arrived at.
The hatred between the Chinese and the Mohammedans is so deeply rooted, that even if an impartial judgment is given, the Mohammedans, whose minds are so prejudiced, will scarcely credit the truth. There have been for years, and certainly will be for many more, internal squabbles in the homesteads and villages of the two sects, and, as long asthese are judged by Chinese officials, there will always be the chance of another outbreak.
It seems remarkable that, although there have been two previous outbreaks during the present century, the last coming to an end only twenty years ago, no adequate means are taken to remove either the cause of another rebellion, or to cope with one which has risen.
First, the cause might be avoided by the appointment of certain Mohammedan officials, elected from amongst those who had remained loyal during the last rebellion, to manage all their internal affairs, and more especially those of a religious nature. Unless something of this kind is attempted it is utterly impossible for these two peoples, differing so vastly in their character and religious ideas, to live in harmony for any length of time. Secondly, the coping with the insurgents could more easily and speedily be accomplished, were powerful garrisons maintained at Ho Cheo and Lancheo, and other cities of importance and Mohammedan centres, properly trained, equipped, and kept in this state by efficient officers, existing in reality instead of merely on paper.
It seems incredible that the Chinese Government, with their previous experience, and their knowledge of the restless and fanatical dispositions of the Mohammedans, more especially of the black caps or Salar sect, and well aware of their greater enterprise and energy besides, should have been powerless at the time of the outbreak. The rebellion, in consequence, spread at an alarming rate, not to be suppressed before many thousands of men, women, and children had been killed or massacred. Even then the penalty was scarcely paid, for years of starvation and misery were lying in store for those who had escaped the calamity.
PARTING FROM LOBSAN—STARTING FOR LANCHEO—A RUINED SUBURB—GOOD DONE BY MISSIONARIES—WE TAKE LEAVE OF MR. RIDLEY—OUR FIRST CHINESE INN.
Next morning, the 19th of October, was decidedly a busy one; our throng of friends had to be settled up with, and our fresh mules had to be started off for Lancheo. In China, when travelling with pack mules, one's baggage is first tied on to arched wooden frames, which, when everything is ready, are simply lifted up and placed across the saddle, and, if necessary, a man can ride on top of his baggage. This is an excellent arrangement, as the mules are never kept standing with their loads on, and, on arriving at one's inn at the end of a day's journey, the frames are simply lifted off the saddles and carried, just as they are, straight into one's room. Those things that are required can then be undone, while the remainder are ready for loading again the following morning; the only drawback is that, as the frames ride entirely by balance, great care must be taken in making up the loads.
The weights these mules carried came rather as a revelation to us, the regulation being 240 Chinese pounds, which is equivalent to 320 English pounds, and if a man is to ride his weight is always reckoned as one hundred Chinese pounds. In India some of the mountain-battery mules carry loads as heavy, or even heavier, than these, but they are as a rule far bigger mules, and are much better looked after;moreover they are very rarely, if ever, called upon to do the marches that a mule does in China, where the average stage is ninety li, or thirty miles, a day.
About 11 o'clock the baggage started in charge of our Duffadar, who also took Esau and Shukr Ali with him, to assist in looking after the muleteers; although neither of these men knew a word of Chinese, we had no more anxiety in sending them off by themselves in the province of Kansu, than we should have had in India; in many parts of the country it might have been a somewhat risky proceeding, but away in the north-west corner of the empire, the people are so much in the habit of mixing with Tibetans, Mongols, and others, that they take comparatively little notice of foreigners.
Meanwhile the Mongols had been getting the balance of pay due to them, and, as they had done us good service, we gave them some extra baksheesh, or "wine-money," as they call it, and also the old pony we had bought from the Tibetan merchant. This put them all in high good humour; they said that if we ever again came to their country they hoped that we would employ them, Lobsan adding that his real name, by which he could always be found, was "Dsun Choni Lama,"[13]by this he was known to everybody, whereas Lobsan was only his nickname. As soon as they had got their pay they went off into the town, where, I have no doubt, they were very soon relieved of the greater part of it by the wily Chinese.
Our business indoors was now finished and we were able to accompany Ridley round the town. First of all we went to see about hiring animals to take us to Lancheo, but the replies we received were not encouraging. We were told that there were a large number of soldiers leaving Sining, and that it was very hard to procure carriage of any sort, in fact, although quite civil, the officials, who could have helpedus had they wanted to, made it clear that they scarcely thought it worth while doing so; they contented themselves with taking a copy of our passport, a very lengthy and somewhat useless proceeding.
Another obstacle in the way of our departure was that the official intimation of our having left Tankar had not arrived, for it is the custom, whenever travellers of importance leave a Chinese town, with carriage supplied by the yamen, for intimation to be sent to the next place on their route, where this carriage will have to be changed. In the present case notice had certainly been sent off from Tankar, but had not reached Sining, at least, so we were told. After leaving the yamen we wended our way through the city towards the eastern suburb, meeting on our way numbers of mounted soldiers. They had escorted a high military official, who had left Sining that morning, and were now returning to the city. A very motley crew they were, mounted on miserable little rats of ponies, and carrying numbers of banners, the colour and device of which will, they believe, strike terror into the hearts of the enemy; even the Japanese war seems to have been powerless to disabuse them of this idea.
On our arrival at the eastern gate of the city we mounted the city walls, and looked down upon the suburb, which had once been the home of 10,000 Chinese Mohammedans. Not a roof was left; of a big mosque which used to stand between the city wall and the outskirts of the suburb scarcely a trace was visible—only a few pillars remained to mark the spot where all those followers of the Prophet used to assemble for worship. From looking down on this scene of desolation, one was able to imagine what would have occurred had the rebels got the upper hand, and been able to wreck the city. Had this happened, it is terrible to think what the fate of our fellow-countrymen within the walls would have been. It is just possible that, having remainedneutral, their lives might have been spared, but in the awful confusion there would have been, this is more than doubtful.
RUINS OF THE E. SUBURB OF SINING.
RUINS OF THE E. SUBURB OF SINING.
We spent some time on the wall, while Ridley showed us all the different points of interest—the road by which the soldiers came in to relieve the city, the path by which reinforcements and supplies used to reach the rebels, the place where the defenders' only serviceable big gun was mounted, and many spots where encounters had occurred. At one time there had been an order that every man entering Sining had to bring in a stone, and piles of these were lying on the ramparts, ready to be hurled down on the heads of the insurgents. There were some soldiers of the garrison lying about on the wall, where, also, their huts were. Some of these were indebted to the missionaries for medical treatment and nursing when wounded; they seemed glad to see Ridley, and to be grateful for thekindness they had received. On our way back to the mission-house, and on other occasions, we were able to ask Ridley how the work of the mission was progressing.
There has been a mission-station at Sining for about ten years, but, unfortunately, the work has not been continuous. On at least one occasion the station has been given up, and from time to time breaks have occurred. This has naturally militated very strongly against the success of the mission, and the result has been that the number of converts has been small, and, moreover, one or two of those who were looked upon as firm believers have fallen away.
Thus the missionaries have met with considerable disappointment, and it is no wonder that there should again be talk of giving up the station. Mr. and Mrs. Ridley, as well as Mr. Hall, who has had a very long experience of Sining, were, however, greatly opposed to this. During the rebellion they had been able to do a great deal of good among the townspeople. Numbers had been wounded, and knowing that they would find friends in need, they had come to the mission-house for treatment. In this, and in many other ways, they had been able to gain the confidence of the people in a way they had never been able to do before, and, as they all say, now, if ever, is the time we shall be able to do good. Mr. Ridley, in October, 1896, had just been offered a transfer to another station, where there was a church and a fairly large congregation of Christians, but it was not hard to see that his heart was set on staying at Sining, and I am glad to think that he got his wish. Some people may be inclined to ask whether it is worth while keeping up a mission-station when the results attained are so small, but it is scarcely fair to judge merely from the returns of converts and inquirers that are sent in annually. A great deal of good may be done which does not come to the surface, and, whatever one's private opinion and convictions may be, one cannot but admire thedevotion of those who give up everything for the cause they consider to be right.
On our return to the mission-house we found that in our absence Hall and Rijnhart had been able to arrange for mules to take us to Lancheo on the following morning, and as Ridley had business to settle at the headquarters of the mission, he agreed to accompany us. We made every preparation for an early start; Ridley gave us each a "mantsi," or "priest's begging-bowl," as a memento of our visit, and Mrs. Ridley filled our saddle-bags with cakes and other luxuries.
In spite of all our forethought, it was late before we had said our last farewells to Mrs. Ridley and her children, and further delay was caused by a doubt as to whether the ferry near the north gate of the city was plying or not. No one was quite sure, so we decided to leave by the west gate, where we knew for certain that we should find boats to take us to the north bank of the Si Ho, along which runs the road, though by doing so we added about three miles to the day's journey. We had not gone far before a boy ran after us from the mission-house, bringing the little terrier "Ruby," who had followed us so far; she seemed to realize that there was more marching in store for her, and not to appreciate leaving the quarters where she had been so comfortable, for before long she again disappeared in the crowd. This time she was not so easily recovered; first one of the muleteers and then Hall went back to look for her. The former returned without any news, and I had just given up hope of ever seeing her again when Hall rode up with her in his arms, greatly to my delight I need scarcely say. Meanwhile Ridley and Malcolm had crossed by the ferry and were some distance on their way, so Rijnhart and I had to push on hard to overtake them.
A SEDAN CHAIR.
A SEDAN CHAIR.
Travelling on a road like this, any little landmarks mentioned by other travellers are eagerly looked for, and onthis day's march there were two such landmarks, or more correctly speaking, there should have been two; the first, thirty li from Sining, a bridge over the Si Ho, mentioned by Mr. Littledale in his lecture before the Royal Geographical Society on his return from Pekin; the second, another thirty li on, was the "Peh Ma Ssï," or "White Horse Temple," mentioned by Mr. Rockhill in both his books.[14]Unfortunately, these are now things of the past; the bridge was swept away in a flood very soon after Mr. Littledale saw it, and the White Horse Temple was utterly wrecked by the fanatical Mohammedans.
Owing to our late start, we were only able to do eighty li, darkness having overtaken us before we got to the stage, the name of which was Chang Kia Tsai. This was our first experience of the Chinese inn, and we had certainly struck a very poor sample of the article; like everything in the neighbourhood, it had suffered heavily in the rebellion, and was only just beginning to recover itself. There was, however, stabling for the animals, and a room with four walls and parts of a roof for ourselves, containing, of course, a k'ang, or stove-bed, without which no Chinese room is complete. We were all ready for bed, and as we had a long day before us, we had a hasty supper and then turned in.
The next morning, the 21st October, we were up long before daylight, having made up our minds to get to Shang Tan (140 li) by night. We had left our two remaining mules with Hall, at Sining, and were now very glad that we had been able to do so, as looking after and feeding them on the road would have been a great nuisance, and the further we took them the less they would have been worth. Ridley and Rijnhart each rode sturdy little country ponies of their own, excellent, sure-footed hacks over the rough roads, but Malcolm and I were both rather uncomfortable, anddecidedly insecure, perched up on top of our blankets, on pack saddles; Lassoo, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy, and, like nearly all Asiatics, was quite content to sit all day on his mule, never dismounting unless told to do so, or unless it were to get something to eat.
All along the road we were able to buy most excellent bread, which is made in various shapes, with beautifully white flour; the kinds we appreciated most were the "Ko kuei," which is made in large round flat loaves, weighing about three pounds apiece, and the "Huei huei," or, Mohammedan bread, so called because only the Mohammedans make it in this shape, which resembles that of the ordinary cake; these loaves weigh about two pounds, and have a very nice crust. These larger loaves are sold by the weight; rolls and smaller loaves are sold at so many cash each. Bread was dear in 1896, costing thirty to forty cash a pound (1d. to 1¼d.); in ordinary years it will not be more than half that price.
Ninety li (thirty miles) from Chang Kia Tsai, we got to Lou Ya. From here there are two roads to Lancheo, the cart road going off to the left by Ping-Fang, while the mule track, which is the shorter, follows the river, and at this point enters the Ta Hsia, the "great gorges," so called in contradistinction to the "Hsiao Hsia," or "little gorges," which are about ten miles east of "Sining." The sun was setting as we entered these gorges, so we missed seeing some very beautiful scenery at its best; we could, however, realise how difficult, not to say dangerous, a journey Mrs. Ridley must have had along this track, when she had come through in a mule litter a few months previously, being too ill to travel any other way. For a man on foot, or for a pack animal, the road was easy enough, even in the dark, but getting a litter and two mules round some of the very sharp bends must have been a decidedly risky proceeding.
SHANG TAN—HO TSUI TSI—FIRST VIEW OF THE YELLOW RIVER—ON A RAFT—AT LANCHEO—A TELEGRAPH TROUBLE.
For forty li our road lay through these gorges, most of the way a considerable height above the river bed, and, owing to the darkness, our progress was slow, so that it was not till 11p.m.that we got to our inn. Here we made inquiries for our baggage, but could get no information, though we subsequently found out that it and our two men were at another inn of the same village.
Shang Tan lies at the mouth of a river, the Ta T'ung, which we crossed by a ferry; the missionaries, and any people holding official positions in the country, are exempted from paying toll for these ferries, and when travelling, or sending any property about, they usually carry a flag, with name and title inscribed in Chinese characters. I had a flag with my name on it, which was made in Sining, just to show who the baggage belonged to, but, of course, we could not claim exemption from tolls. Round Shang Tan there is a great deal of melon cultivation, and the fields are covered with stones, which perform the two-fold duty of protecting the ground from the fierce rays of the sun and raising the fruit out of the water should it rain heavily.
Towards evening we got to Ho Tsui Tsi, the last place in this direction which was wrecked by the Mohammedans, and beyond this the difference was at once apparent. Our halting-place that night was Ma Huei Tsi, a very smallvillage, consisting almost entirely of inns; in fact, its onlyraison d'êtremust have been as a convenience for travellers. Nevertheless, instead of coming to a ramshackle, tumble-down house, very likely without any front door, the inn was in good repair, and the roof intact, quite a change after the stricken district we had passed through.
Ten miles from Ma Huei Tsi the road passes over a spur of the hills, and one gets one's first view of the mighty Huang Ho (Yellow River). On the other side the road descends to the pretty little straggling town of Ho K'eo Tsi (the "mouth of the river") so called because at this point the Si Ho, which we had followed from some distance above Tankar, runs into the Yellow River. On both the ascending and descending sides of this spur, there are earthen pans dug in the soil, in which salt is collected from the brackish streams which abound.
Ten li further on the river has to be crossed by a ferry to a town called Sin Ch'eng. When we got there, the ferry boat was at the far side of the river and the ferrymen busy doing something else; for about two hours we sat on the bank shouting to them to come across to us, and every now and then one of them would shout back that they would be over presently. At last we got exasperated, and seeing our hopes of getting into Lancheo that night rapidly vanishing, we entered into negotiations with a man to take us the rest of the distance by raft. We had just agreed on the price to be paid, and the man had gone away to make a few necessary preparations, when our baggage, which we thought was still ahead of us, turned up, and at the same time the ferry boat started to come across from the other side.
Shahzad Mir, Esau, and Shukr Ali had had a very pleasant time; their muleteers had given no trouble, and the food they had got on the road, filled as it was with oil, suited their taste admirably. It was now agreed that Ridley and the baggage should cross by the ferry to SinCh'eng and come on to Lancheo the next day with all the servants, while Rijnhart, Malcolm, and I went straight on on the raft, which was now ready. This raft was a strangely flimsy conveyance about eight feet by five feet; it was supported by six inflated deer skins, and over them was lashed a very light framework, on which we put our blankets. We were particularly cautioned when getting on board not to put our feet on the skins for fear of bursting them, and if possible to step where two cross pieces of the framework met.
In a few moments we were seated and waving adieux to Ridley, who almost simultaneously left the bank in the ferry boat. In addition to the three of us, there were two men to manage the raft, so we were pretty well crowded, and quite unable to shift our positions. When in smooth water we were some three inches clear and able to keep more or less dry, but in the rapids, which were of frequent occurrence, the water kept washing over the frame, thereby adding considerably to our discomfort. However, the novelty of the experience kept us amused, and there was plenty of variety. For a bit all would go smoothly, then in a few moments we would be in the middle of a rapid, and for the next minute or two the raft would dance madly round and round; it was like a panorama where the spectators revolved instead of the scenes. Now and then a new sensation would be added, when, going through a shallow, we suddenly heard the skins scraping along the bottom; but though amusing and more or less exciting, we had the satisfaction of knowing that there was no danger. Every now and then one of the men had to turn round to blow up a skin from which too much air had escaped; but in spite of this and their other duties, they found time to extract from some part of their clothes some singularly uninviting looking black bread, but before commencing to eat themselves they, with true Chinese politeness, offered it to us. We of course refused; however hungry we might have been,and however tempting the food might have looked, it would have been a great breach of etiquette to have availed ourselves of their offer.
Meanwhile the sun was rapidly setting, and we began to realise that our chances of getting into the city before the gates were closed were small. On starting we had been assured that we could get from Sin Ch'eng to Lancheo, a distance of seventy li by road, and about the same by water, in one Chinese hour, which is equal to two English hours, but we soon realised that this was an impossibility; double that time looked a great deal nearer the mark.
From Sin Ch'eng downwards we had kept passing numbers of huge water-wheels, which lift the water out of the river and irrigate the fields in the neighbourhood. Some of them must have been fully sixty feet in diameter, and being constructed entirely of wood are very curious. Sometimes they are single and sometimes in groups of four or five; at intervals, when not anxiously watching the setting sun, I kept thinking what interesting pictures these wheels would make, but the kodak was with the baggage and the opportunity lost.
Meanwhile, Rijnhart had been making inquiries as to what chance we had of getting a raft at Lancheo, on which to continue our journey down the Yellow River. All along the road reports had been most conflicting, some people telling us that rafts were constantly leaving with wool for various places down the river, others telling us that we should have to go some distance by land, and then get a boat or a raft below the gorges. All we knew for certain was that Mr. and Mrs. Littledale had managed to get on to a raft at Lancheo, and we did not see why we shouldn't do likewise. Now, however, we seemed to be within measurable distance of the truth, for the owner of our raft told us that he would take us to an inn in the suburbs where we would be able to get all the information we required. It was nowtoo late for us to get into the city, so this arrangement suited us admirably.
Night came on as we entered the outskirts of the city, and by the time we disembarked it was quite dark. In single file we wended our way to the inn; one of the men, carrying the raft, brought up the rear. Arrived there, we got half a room, which was not made more agreeable by a Chinaman smoking opium heavily in the other half, and in a few moments the landlord brought us some tea. From him we learnt that a raft was leaving with wool the very next morning, and that we might be able to induce the owners to wait till the evening, or at all events until our baggage should come in; this was excellent news, and we went to sleep well contented and happy in the thought that on the morrow we should be able to telegraph home, and allay any fears that might have arisen with regard to our safety.
The first thing next morning we saw one of the owners of the raft, but all we got out of him was, that he must go and see his friends, and that he would let us know. Whatever his intentions were at the time, we never saw him again. We then went to the telegraph office and despatched our messages, a proceeding which took us very nearly an hour, as many different people had to be consulted on so unusual a proceeding, telegrams to India puzzling the officials terribly. We also sent a wire and prepaid the reply, asking when the Gulf of Pe Chili was likely to be frozen over. At last the matter was settled, as we thought, so we made our way to the mission house. We had sent up a note announcing our arrival and saying that we would follow ourselves a little later. There we found Mr. and Mrs. Botham, Mr. Hunter, and Mr. Mason, who received us very cordially in their comfortable home. As soon as introductions were over, Rijnhart left to make inquiries about a raft, and shortly afterwards Ridley turned up, having made a very early start from Sin Ch'eng.
In Lancheo there is a Roman Catholic mission, as wellas the China Inland Mission, but the two never mix, or associate in any way; for some reason, they find that the work does not admit of any intercourse between the two branches of the Church, so, by mutual consent apparently, they keep apart. From an outsider's point of view, this seems a pity, but no doubt experience has shown that it is the wiser plan. The China Inland Mission station has been established a good many years, and although they have not yet got a large enough number of converts and inquirers to have a church, they have been getting on slowly in the right direction. Being in the capital of Kansu, it is the principal station of that province, and the headquarters of the superintendent, to which post Mr. Botham has just been appointed, after spending many years in the Hsian plain.
We had not been long in our new quarters before Rijnhart came back, saying that several rafts had left that morning, and that no others would be leaving for several days; he had also ascertained that the best thing we could now do would be to take carts as far as a place called Chong Wei, and trust to get a boat there to take us on. This we decided to do, so Mr. Hunter and I went off to make the necessary arrangements, while Rijnhart and Malcolm went into the town to buy provisions for the road.
Just as they were leaving, the head telegraph official came round and said that he had despatched the telegram to Tien Tsin about the state of the Gulf of Pe Chili, but that he could not send off the others as he was unable to ascertain what the cost would be; moreover, he had just heard from Hsian Fu that the wire was broken beyond that place, and that our message would have to go by Yamen runners for three days. Very useful this, when we had hoped to get an answer in forty-eight hours at the latest. With regard to the English and Indian telegrams, we were able to surmount the difficulty by wiring to the headquarters of the China Inland Mission at Shanghai, inMr. Botham's name, asking them to send the messages for us, a request with which they very kindly complied, but, owing to our not touching Shanghai on our way to India, it was some months before we were able to repay them.
By the evening we had made all our necessary preparations for another start on the following morning, and Ridley added to the many kindnesses he had already done us by lending us some money for current expenses on the road. Moreover, Rijnhart now finally made up his mind to accompany us all the way to the coast; he had business to do there, and this seemed to him a favourable opportunity for going down to do it. We were both delighted at the prospect of his companionship through China, where his knowledge of the people and their language was bound to be invaluable to us, besides saving us from wholesale swindling. Many and many a time we had reason to thank our stars that he came to this decision.
Chong Wei to Pao T'eo by boat, eight days' journey. Flat-bottomed wool-boat.
WE PAY OFF SHUKR ALI—LANCHEO TO CHONG WEI—OFFICIAL INCIVILITY—LOSE RUBY—SHAHZAD MIR MISTAKEN FOR A REBEL.
Soon after daybreak on the 25th October we bade farewell to the missionaries, and, accompanied by Ridley and Rijnhart, made our way to the inn on the far side of the river, from which our carts were to start, and in which our men had slept the previous night. Our baggage was now of the most miscellaneous description, for in addition to the instruments, clothes, and flowers which we had brought with us, there were the curios we had bought, and last, but not least, provisions of bread, meat, vegetables, and butter for a seven days' journey across a sandy desert country, where little could be bought, the inns providing accommodation, but scarcely anything else.
We were determined not to starve any more, and made due preparations to guard against doing so. To carry these numerous articles, as well as ourselves and our men, we had engaged two carts, each drawn by a mule and a pony. As when hiring baggage mules, so again now a regular contract had to be drawn up and signed by the contracting parties. Our agreement was that each cart was to carry 500 Chinese pounds, equal to 666 English pounds, including passengers, and to land us in Chong Wei on the 31st October. There is also another and bigger sort of cart in this part of China, which carries 1,200 pounds, and is drawn by three animals, but it was not suited to our requirements.
THE ONLY WAY TO DRIVE IN NORTH CHINA.
THE ONLY WAY TO DRIVE IN NORTH CHINA.
As usual in making a start, the first day there was considerable delay, and even after everything was ready as far as we were concerned our carters flatly refused to start till another party, consisting of two officials—one military, the other customs-house—who were going to Ning-Shia-Fu, were also prepared to make a move, and this was not till just 11a.m., some five hours after leaving the mission-house.
Our last care before starting was to pay off Shukr Ali, whom we were sending back to LadakhviâYarkand. The inn which we were leaving for Chong Wei was also the inn from which the carts make their departure for Yarkand, so we arranged with the innkeeper that he was to keep Shukr Ali until a caravan should be starting, leaving him a sum of money for board and lodging, Ridley, moreover, very kindly promising to see that the innkeeper did not defraud him or delay his departure.
Some months later we heard that Shukr Ali had arrived in Kashgar, where he presented himself to the British Resident, Captain Macartney, and coolly stated that he had been defrauded of a portion of his just dues. He appears, however, to have omitted to mention the fact of his desertion with the remainder of our flour, or any of his many sins of omission and commission by which he had forfeited all claim to any consideration. We did, indeed, send him Rs. 40 in answer to the appeal of the Resident, but with a special request that he should be made to clearly understand that he was in no way entitled to it. I can only hope that this was done. Had it not been for the fact that his behaviour up to the 2nd August was infinitely better than that of the other men, we would certainly never have taken him back into our service.
The usual method of cart travelling in China is to make an early morning start, to halt a couple of hours about midday, and then to go on till sunset, or rather later; but as the animals travel at a walk the whole time, the amount ofground covered is not very great—in fact, if you manage to do forty miles in a day you may congratulate yourself on having done well. Our first day's journey was only seventy li, or about twenty-three miles, and then we halted for the night at Shui-Peh-Ho. The following day, during our midday halt, we made the acquaintance of some of our fellow-travellers, after which they generally used to come and converse with us while we were having our meals, and occasionally made themselves very entertaining. The road was dull and uninteresting in the extreme, very rough and very sandy, which made the work uncommonly hard for the animals; scarcely a sign of cultivation anywhere, except just round the small groups of houses occasionally to be seen, which seem to have noraison d'être, except to supply the wants of destitute travellers, should any come along the road. In some places things are so bad that the unfortunate people have to send several miles for their water, but somehow the advisability of shifting to a more favourable part of the country never seems to strike them.
One day the monotony of our journey was broken by a slightfracasbetween the carters and ourselves, they having made up their minds to stop for the day at 2p.m., while we were equally determined that they should go on another fifty li. Halting so early made it quite impossible for them to land us in Chong Wei on the day they had agreed upon, but this did not appear to affect them in the least, and threats of taking them to the Yamen at Chong Wei were equally unavailing, so that I am bound to confess that they fairly beat us, and we remained stuck in a little village for the rest of the day.
On the 31st October, the day our cart journey should have ended, we were woken up at 2a.m., the carters saying they were in a hurry to start. Nothing loth, we made a hasty breakfast, rolled up our blankets, and made every preparation for departure. Our fellow-travellers moved off, but there wereno signs of our carts getting ready, so we went outside to inquire what had happened to them, and were informed that one pony had run away, and that the men had gone in search of it, so there was nothing to do but to return to the inn and await events. Soon tiring of this, I decided to stroll on ahead, never doubting that the others would soon follow me in the carts.
The men had already gone on, so, taking Ruby with me, I set off down the road, which soon developed into a succession of sand hills, with many cart ruts in several places nearly two feet deep—anything but pleasant walking in the dark. It did not take me long to catch up to the men, but by this time I had been deserted by Ruby, the faithful companion of so many days' travelling. This troubled me little at the time, as I quite made up my mind that, not relishing the keen morning air, she had returned to the inn to put in as much more sleep as possible.
After going about thirteen miles I came to a small village, where I tried to get some bread, but my endeavours being unsuccessful, whether owing to some flaw in my Chinese or not I cannot say, I decided to walk on to the next place. On I went, following the cart tracks, which formed an apology for a road, down the bed of a narrow stream, and between high cliffs, till I at length emerged on the banks of what was undoubtedly our old friend the Yellow River. I knew I could not be mistaken in this, as there is no other river in this part of China with anything like the same volume of water. The tracks led me along the left bank of the river, till they eventually stopped abruptly at the water's edge. High above me I could see a track across some forbidding-looking sand hills, but to reach it one had a difficult piece of ground to negotiate which was utterly impracticable for carts. I knew there was no other road by which the carts could go, and, as far as I could see, there was no possibility of their getting any further. It was now aboutmidday. We were all very hungry, and quite at a loss what to do, so, in default of any better plan, I made up my mind to wait where I was till Rijnhart and Malcolm should arrive; so, choosing a shady spot, I lay down, and was soon fast asleep.
It was about 5p.m.when I woke, refreshed by sleep, but still very hungry, and anxious for the arrival of the carts, which, however, were nowhere to be seen; but just as it was getting dusk, a boat came round a bend of the river, being dragged up the far side by sturdy Chinamen. They went a short distance further up the river than where I was, and then dropped across to my side. This was evidently a ferry-boat, and was in the habit of meeting carts and travellers at intervals during the day, so, feeling sure it was certain to take me somewhere, I got on board with the men, expecting to be ferried across to some village on the far side, which was hidden by the curve of the bank, but to my astonishment we went straight down the river, about half a mile. Here the boat stopped, and out we all got. The boatmen moored the boat for the night, and then started off across some fields. I followed in silence, wondering what the upshot of it all was likely to be. There I was, a stranger in a strange land, destitute of money and food, and quite unable to speak the language, or make myself understood except occasionally by signs. And in this Shahzad Mir, Esau, and Lassoo, were of no help; they were indeed only extra mouths to feed, and no money to do it with. After walking about half a mile we came to a small group of houses, and one of the boatmen, a good sort of fellow, made signs for us to follow him into one of them. Here we found an old lady, evidently his wife, and to our great delight our demands for "momo" (bread) and "tsa" (tea) were promptly complied with. We had indeed fallen upon our feet, for in addition to these luxuries the room was clean and comfortable, but all efforts to make our host and hostess understand that we would like some eggs availed us nothing. Even when we all four sat in a row, eachmaking the noise he imagined was most like a laying hen, our object never dawned upon them, and at last, when it became obvious that they thought this was only our way of enjoying ourselves, we gave up in despair and went to sleep.