The military escort is practically compulsory in this part of the country, for things are not very settled, though foreigners are much better treated than they were a few years ago. Our soldiers were most assiduous in their attentions, rushing to fetch hot water the moment we arrived at an inn, and eager to wash up our plates after meals, although we had a servant whose main duty it was to do this.
We had been told that Szechwan was flat, so we had a pleasant surprise in finding that our route lay almost the whole way through hilly, not to say mountainous country, and that the mountains were beautifully wooded. On the second day we reached Liang Shan, a pretty little town in a valley surrounded by steep hills; and after we left it the scenery was particularly beautiful. We passed through a thick forest of bamboos, whose pale, graceful, feathery foliage contrasted finely with the tall, dark pine-trees. The way led straight up a precipitous mountain by thousands of well-made stone steps. It seemed as if we should never reach the top, and the coolies must have thoroughly appreciated the fact that we were British travellers, and not Chinese; for the Chinese sometimes walk down-hill when it is very steep, but rarely indeed uphill. When we asked Mr. Ku if he were accustomed to walking, he said, “Oh yes, I can walk two and a half miles,” so evidently that is considered a long distance. In reality he proved to be a first-rate walker, and was soon able to do several hours a day without fatigue. The banks were full of all sorts of lovely ferns and mosses, reminding us of the most beautiful ferneries (under glass) at home; but here was of course the charm of nature instead of art. There was evidently a great variety of flowers in the spring-time; masses of orchids, and anemones, violets, and other plants we recognised, but there were far more whose species were unknown to us.
When we reached the summit at last there was a wonderful panoramic view of hill and plain as far as the eye could reach; miles upon miles of shimmering rice-fields, with trees and farmsteads reflected in them. A ceaseless stream of coolies passed us, carrying various kinds of loads suspended from each end of long sticks, which they carried across their shoulders. The loads were mainly baskets, paper, coal, hand-warmers, and pottery in this district. The hand-warmers are very neat; they are made of bamboo baskets containing a little earthenware bowl for charcoal. The people sometimes sit on them, or carry them in their hands, or even hang them under their coats, either before or behind—which at first aroused our pity, for we took them to be suffering from some terrible growth!
The Szechwan inns are not at all to our taste, nor do they compare favourably with those of Shantung, being mostly in bad repair and with paper hanging in shreds from the window-frames. There are large holes in the floors—mainly used for emptying slops through, on to the pigs living below—and decidedly perilous to the unwary traveller. The month of December, however, is the best time for visiting these inns, as the rats are then the only active foes; but they are painfully bold. I turned a sudden gleam of electric light from my private lantern on one of the rats in the middle of the night and startled him a good deal, but the scare wore off all too soon. Hosie has translated a Chinese verse which he met with in a Szechwan inn, and added a second one of his own. He says that the Chinaman’s own description errs on the side of leniency, and I think he is quite correct.
“Within this room you’ll find the rats
At least a goodly score;
Three catties each they’re bound to weigh,
Or e’en a little more.
At night you’ll find a myriad bugs
That stink and crawl and bite;