As one gets farther west the climate changes—growing milder—and the vegetation is different. Beautiful groups of bamboos are frequently seen, and crops of sugar-cane in patches of vivid green suggest the month of May rather than December. You reach the native home of oranges, and they seem to have a better flavour than anywhere else.

Mr. Ku came to me with a long face one day, to say that he had been told that the natives of Szechwan were barbarians, “and do you not think that Liu and I had better wear suits of uniform?” We had no hesitation as to the answer—a decided veto, having already discussed the question of carrying firearms, many of our friends having strongly urged us to do it. I am more than ever convinced that it is apt to lead to trouble, rather than avert it, and that it is safer to have none, especially when you have not been thoroughly trained in the use of them. My friend suggested that if you shot one Chinaman there would be ten to kill you, and a smile would be at least as efficacious as a revolver.

The last part of our river journey was rather disturbing, owing to our twice dashing upon the rocks; but happily no serious damage was done, and we had an excellent opportunity of seeing how these people set about repairs. The water was coming in rather fast under the floor of our cabin, so the carpenter took up the boards, baled out the superfluous water, and stuffed the hole with cotton wadding, which he extracted from his winter coat. This he adjusted neatly in the hole by means of his chopstick, and finally put a plaster over it, composed of the sole of an old shoe, which he tore up for the purpose, and nailed it over the spot. A good deal of baling had to be done, and no sooner was order restored in the cabin than we had a second collision, and the flooring had to be taken up again to see if there was any fresh mischief. Happily there was none.

Two sets of our friends have each been wrecked three times this season on their way up the river, and on one occasion the boat broke completely in half. Every one hastened to save what they could, except a Chinaman, who was observed busily washing his clothes with the soap that was oozing out of one of the cases of stores! No goods are worth insuring on the Yangtze, as the insurance rates are so high, and it is so difficult—often impossible—to prove what has been lost. In the case when the boat was a total wreck, our friends were obliged to encamp for a week on the river-bank in a hut which they constructed out of their stores and luggage, with the sail of the boat spread over the top by way of roof—a somewhat ineffectual one when the rain came pouring down.

The river-banks are studded with temples, pagodas, and shrines, and the people in this part of the country are far more assiduous in their worship than anywhere else: we continually noticed them offering incense or paper money to the gods. The temples are less interesting than in the north, and ugly in colour, mostly a cold grey ornamented with black and white, and they are also less artistic architecturally.

On the fourteenth day we reached Wanhsien, whence we had decided to travel overland, though we were sorry to miss seeing the celebrated salt-wells, which we should have passed if we had taken the other more frequented route to Chengtu. We regretfully said good-bye to our boatmen, and made the eighteen men thoroughly happy and content with a gratuity of 7s. to be divided amongst them. We notice that the Chinese always seem more pleased and satisfied when they get the usual tip than when they get more. Wanhsien looked doubly attractive to us from the fact that we saw a British gunboat lying on the farther side of the river, but in itself the town is eminently picturesque, though dirty. A camel-back bridge, spanning a stream just before it entered the Yangtze, was perhaps the prettiest bit of all. Below it were endless yards of cotton hanging out to dry, after being dyed. This was a sight with which we soon became familiar, passing through many a village where the main street was draped in this way.

CAMEL-BACK BRIDGE

CHAPTER XIV
Szechwan High-roads

Some friends who preceded us up the Yangtze had arranged for sedan-chairs to be made in readiness for our arrival, so we were able to start on Monday morning at 7.45 on our journey to Chengtu, the capital of the province of Szechwan. We made quite an imposing array. The party was arranged as follows: first, two soldiers (our military escort); then my chair carried by four men; my friend’s ditto; Mr. Ku’s chair carried by two men, as it was a much lighter one than ours; then Liu’s, which was a similar one (servants are always supposed to walk, but as Liu was from Peking, and totally unaccustomed to walking, we thought it best to let him ride); then came four coolies carrying luggage (each man reckons to carry 107 lbs.); and a head coolie, who is responsible for all the others, brought up the rear. The total cost of the seventeen coolies for fourteen days was 90,100 cash (£9), and the soldiers each received 2½d. per day wine money. The soldiers were most attentive, and would hardly leave our side except to go ahead and engage a room in the inn and have it made ready for us—namely, swept out and clean mats put on the bedsteads. They kept an eye on the luggage, though that is really unnecessary when there is a head man, as it is his duty, and he is responsible for everything. It is only when you have as many as fifteen coolies that a head man is considered requisite, but it is a great advantage in any case to have one.