Fugleman (to one of us)—“Those boots! How much did they cost?”
Englishman—“They cost fourteen taels.”
Fugleman—“Those boots! They cost fourteen taels, and he speaks the mandarin language.”
Chorus-“They cost fourteen taels, and he speaks the mandarin language”—and so it goes on ad infinitum. If we are in a good humour we give the fugleman a cigar, which he puffs at vigorously, and swears “it is both strong and fragrant”; but it makes him cough violently, and he passes it on to the next in the crowd, until the whole of them retire, coughing and declaring that it is “both strong and fragrant,” into a corner, from which every now and then we hear “those boots” all over again.
The rooms of the inn are very bare indeed; the only furniture is a table with two chairs, and the only vaisselle provided is a teapot and bowls, all guests being expected to bring their own bedding, food, and comforts. On each door is pasted a print of a god in staring colours. The lintels and posts of the inner doors are covered with characters printed on red paper, which are generally moral reflections from the works of Confucius, such as, “All happiness comes from Heaven,” “To become wealthy you must have the principle of right.” On the wall is generally hung a picture. I saw one of a sage with a forehead like a misshapen pear, lecturing before two warriors upon the Yang and Yin (the universal principle of nature); another of a yellow elephant in spectacles, his body, legs, and trunk covered with characters, with two gentlemen in blue eating their dinner comfortably under his stomach, while a third was offering a stalk of millet to a lady in pink, who modestly turned her head aside as she accepted the present; this was a sort of Chinese farmer’s Moore’s almanack, indicating the propitious times for sowing, reaping, etc. Besides the centre picture, the walls are often covered with drawings by poor travelling artists, who earn a night’s lodging by the skill of their pencil. Some of their productions, when they don’t attempt figures or beasts, are very clever. I have seen in the most out-of-the-way inns sketches of bamboo, grasses, flowers, and birds, that were dashed off in a way that would have done credit to well-known names. If the traveller be a poor scholar, as such are always proud of their caligraphy, he will, instead of a drawing, contribute quotations from the philosophers or poets, or a few verses in praise of the landlord and his honesty, and declaring how his (the poor scholar’s) heart had laughed during the period of their intercourse. Every room has in it a ka̔ng; this is a large stove about 2½ feet high, covered with a mat or piece of felt, taking up all one side of the room, and serving as a bed. In winter the Chinese, like the Russians, bake themselves every time they go to sleep.
There came on a fearful thunderstorm in the night, with a deluge of rain, which gave us some uneasiness, as we had several rivers ahead of us which we feared might become unfordable, as indeed turned out to be the case. However, the only inconvenience we suffered was in loss of time, for when we arrived next morning at the first river we found huge ferry-boats, worked by strapping Chinamen stark naked; it took us nearly two hours to get our carts, mules, and horses across. We amused ourselves the while in watching a swine-herd’s vain endeavours to make his flock swim the stream, the opposition being led by a stubborn little curly-tail, with a majority in his favour. The consumption of pork at Peking must be something fabulous. The streets swarm with pigs, and yet from every direction we saw large herds being driven into the town. The Chinese who can afford it eat pork at nearly every meal. We found an encampment of Mongols on the river-bank. They were on their way homeward from Peking, where they had been selling horses. They seemed very good-humoured, honest people, simple and primitive to a degree, as amused as children with our watches, clothes, saddles, and other belongings.
It is very strange, the farther one gets from the capital, to see an improvement in everything. The fields are better cultivated, the houses are better built, and the villages far cleaner than the town. Fifteen miles out of Peking all the indecencies and filthiness which are its characteristics disappear entirely; a man would be stoned if he were to venture upon outraging decency as the Pekingese do; the poor peasants are more polite and less inquisitive about us, although foreigners so rarely appear among them, which makes one think that the inquisitiveness is sometimes only studied impertinence. We saw several farmhouses with pretty gardens and neat out-houses, which might have stood in an English shire, so free were they from all stamp of China. The people seemed well-to-do, and the farmers positively rich. We met a lady going out to spend the day with her gossip, dressed as smart as a new pin, and carrying her baby in her arms. She was riding a donkey, which, as soon as one of our vicious little Mongol ponies set eyes on, he made a dash at the ass and upset him and the lady and the baby, happily on to a bank, for had she fallen in the muddy lane there would have been an end to all her finery. As it was, she was let off for a good fright. “Ai ya! what manners are these! what manners are these!” she cried indignantly as she struggled on to her tiny goat’s feet. We, of course, made all the apologies possible, and she bestrode her ass and rode off pacified—more or less.
The principal place that we passed on this day (August 26) was Mi-Yün-Hsien, a walled city. We did not enter the city, but skirted the walls. Outside the gate there stands a guard-house, and near this there is a tall blasted tree. It has neither leaf nor sprout, but from its whitened branches there hang small wooden cages, and in each cage is a human head, at which the carrion-birds are pecking. A ghastly fruit!
At a little place called Shi-ling I saw the prettiest woman I have ever met in China. She was a widow, and really looked quite lovely in her white dress and fillet, which she wore as weeds. She had a clear olive complexion, abundance of black hair, dark eyes, and regular features. Women’s dress in this country show nothing of the figure; but we all agreed that she must have had a good figure; alas! her feet had been tortured and deformed. This is commonly supposed to be the difference between pure Chinese women and Tartars. As a matter of fact, I am assured that it is a question of family custom, some Tartar families adopting it, while some Chinese families do not. The poor serving wench who has her feet deformed must be sadly hampered in her work.
We slept at Mu-Chia-Yu. The next morning (August 27) we started in good time, for we wished to reach Ku-Pei-Ko̔u early that day. Although the ride of the day before had been very pretty, increasing in beauty as we drew near to the mountains, I was hardly prepared for such glorious scenery as we passed through on this day. The road lay over and between hillocks and rocks covered with ferns, mosses, and wild-flowers, and before us were the mountains with blue distances and fantastic outlines for a landscape-painter to revel in. Over the tops of the highest hills the Great Wall of China traced a zigzag course, like a distant chain. Rich crops of millet and Indian corn, with undergrowths of beans or buckwheat, bordered with the castor-oil plant, stood in the valleys and in the plain. The cottages of the different villages had an air of comfort and tidiness rare in China; almost every one had a little flower-garden fenced in by a hedge of millet stalks, trailed over with gourds, convolvulus, and vines. In some places the people were gathering in the smaller sort of millet; they were cutting the ears separately with a small knife, as a gardener would gather a dish of fruit or vegetables.