As we stood talking to the brilliantly dressed daughters of the house, a young cousin came in, who spoke excellent English, having been trained at St. John’s College, Shanghai, and he proved to be a friend of Mr. Ku’s. He offered to take us round to his father’s palace, which was close by. It is built on exactly the same plan, and was in every way similar to the other; but we noticed one curious object in the reception-room—a large rough stone behind a screen under the ancestral tablet. This, he told us, was a stone used for divination in time of war, and above it was a most curious diagram hanging on the wall, representing men riding on tigers (= soldiers). There was also a scroll hanging on the opposite wall, given to the family by the Emperor after the death of the young man’s father, recording the eminent deeds which he had performed. Among the curios which he showed us were some wooden ornaments formed out of little shrubs, which had been trained to grow into peculiar shapes, such as a lion, an old man, &c.; these are particularly admired by the Chinese. Some parts of the decorations were quite charming in colour and in design, as for instance the double doors, decorated with golden bats on a dark-green background, and the gargoyles, formed like fishes, carved in stone. Altogether it was a fascinating place and a worthy setting to the courtly gentleman, who entertained us hospitably and took us round with his son. Unfortunately, his English was almost as limited as our Chinese. I should have very much liked to do his portrait, but dusk was coming on and we were leaving early next morning.
Two rather dreary days succeeded, as there was a west wind blowing, which took all the colour out of the landscape, just as an east wind does at home, and at the same time it added colour to one’s temper. There is really much sense in the old French law, which prescribed special leniency of judgment in the case of murder and suicide committed when the mistral was blowing. Sketching was out of the question, and the poor trackers had a hard time—no rest all day long, for the wind was blowing dead in our teeth. We laboriously won our way up some small rapids, but nothing important was gained and we travelled very slowly.
The last rapid before Wanhsien is the worst, and as usual we got out, despite the reassuring news that, owing to the considerable fall in the level of the water, we should have an easy ascent. Our luggage was hastily transferred to the red-boat—as we imagined, to be taken ashore as usual—and we then landed, to allow our boat to start at once, for there were no other boats waiting ahead of us. The red-boat men, however, got some of our men to help them, and started first. We stood on a rock watching her come bravely through the flood, and were in the very act of photographing her, when she seemed to stagger, the men gave a great shout, dropped the towing-rope, the water dashed over her, and she was whirled down the stream like an utterly helpless log. We were horrified to see her carried down and out of sight round a bend, and the thought of our luggage added not a little, I must admit, to our dismay. It was some time before the two men on board succeeded in getting her to the bank, for the large steering-oar in front had snapped, which was the cause of the disaster. Hence the shout to the men to loose the towing-rope, or she would have gone on the rocks. About an hour later the men came back to us, carrying our luggage, which was none the worse for the wetting; but they told us it would be impossible for them to accompany us any farther, as it would take some time to repair the damage. We regretfully took leave of them, as the men had quite endeared themselves to us by the kindness and courtesy with which they were always on the alert to render us small services. Only the night previous our men were noisy and quarrelsome, and I was obliged to remonstrate sharply. At once the red-boat captain came to my assistance, and restored peace instantaneously. I wrote a note of thanks to the general at Ichang for the captain to give him, with our visiting-cards, when he reported himself on his arrival. I also gave visiting-cards to the captain for himself, as nothing seems to please a Chinaman more than this small courtesy, together with a lump of silver to be divided with his crew, and he received them with a beaming smile and a military salute.
After the accident we strolled along the bank for some distance, waiting for our junk to come up, and were much amused by inspecting a river-bank village. The whole of it is built of the most flimsy materials, and put together so lightly that it can be taken down and moved to another spot at the shortest possible notice, according to the height of the river. Even the god’s shrine is thoroughly perambulatory, and is dedicated to the god of the earth. Many of the shanties are lofty erections, but the walls and roofs consist entirely of mats hung on to poles, which are merely tied together and stuck into the ground. There was quite a good village street, containing a barber’s shop, a butcher’s, a draper’s (where most attractive wadded quilts made quite a goodly show), a chemist’s, greengrocer’s, &c.
There were several delightful restaurants, with pretty bowls and natty cooking arrangements, which made us long to purchase and experiment with them instead of using our primitive stove, where my bread refused to rise, though I never failed with it at home. So far, it can only be considered successful for making poultices, but we eat a little of it daily, as there is no sort of bread which we should find palatable in this part of the empire. The counters of the restaurants had many tempting dainties displayed upon them, especially tiny saucers full of relishes; among them we saw several Escoffier sauce bottles, but no doubt the original contents had disappeared long ago!
RIVER-SIDE SHRINE
THE CHEF ON THE YANGTZE
The women of the place seemed nice and friendly and clean, and were dressed in the gayest colours of the rainbow; green, scarlet, blue, and black was quite an ordinary combination on one person. They wear tight wadded trousers to just below the knee, and from there to the ankle the leg is neatly bound. Often the legs are very thin, and look like sticks, while the out-turned tiny feet and stiff knees all combine to give the appearance of goats’ legs. While I was sketching the little shrine one came and stood beside it, with a very evident desire to be included in the sketch. I at once took advantage of this unusual occurrence—they generally flee directly they see I am doing them—but as the spectators laughed at her, she kept folding her arms across her face. She had a large basket on her back, and many women carry their babies in this way.