The face of China

by E. G. Kemp

CORMORANTS ON THE CORMORANT RIVER

On the fourth day’s journey we reached the borders of the province of Yünnan. Our road parted from the Yangtze and ran for many days parallel with a lovely river (of a deep blue-green colour like those in the Pyrenees), whose course we followed from the point where it fell into the Yangtze up to its birthplace in the mountains. Sometimes the pathway winds high up the hillsides, and sometimes almost down to the river’s edge. The cormorants were busy fishing—not for John Chinaman, but for themselves. We had the merriest set of sturdy carriers, who treated our weight as if it were a mere joke, and laughed and ran with us, despite the roughness of the way, and rather to our terror sometimes. They are much stronger than the ordinary Szechwan coolies. Indeed, that is a necessity in the case of these roads, which are no better than sheep-tracks in the Cumberland fells, despite their being the great trade-route between the two largest provinces of Western China. Day by day we revelled in the beauty of the scenery and its ever-varying charms. There was subtler charm in them than there would have been when the flowers are in blossom, for it was the moment when the earth was awakening after its winter sleep; every twig was beginning to change colour; the buds were swelling; the delicate fronds of innumerable ferns were uncurling; the birds were hesitatingly trying their notes; and the sun had not yet given the dazzling blue to the sky which comes later on. It only illuminated and irradiated, but did not dazzle the eyes. We felt that we had come exactly at the right moment, for the weather was perfect for walking, and it was not nearly so cold as we expected. The inns are not so bad as they have been described, and we came on one where there was a beautiful large window—above the pig-sty—overlooking the country, and the unwonted light had encouraged travellers to make remarks on the walls in French, German, and English, as well as Chinese.

After entering Yünnan we came to a substantial suspension-bridge, made of eight parallel iron chains, and with chain hand-rails; but the planks on it were strewn about in a desultory way, calculated to upset unseasoned travellers. At either end of the bridge was a solid block of masonry, surmounted by a temple through which the chains passed and were buried deep into the ground. These bridges are often a considerable length, and do not hang at a natural swing, but are drawn up as tightly as possible with hawsers; which, of course, makes a heavy strain upon the chains. This kind of bridge is to be found throughout the province, and they always seem in good condition. We cannot help wishing that a little of the engineer’s skill had also been expended on the steep rough track which led up from the bridge. The roads are apparently never mended, and in some places had fallen away, or had been covered by a small landslip.

It was curious to see the change of vegetation when we crossed the border, the poppy replacing the pea to a large extent. Yünnan is the greatest opium-growing province in the Empire, and the best; but there is already a perceptible diminution since the new anti-opium Acts. We saw peas of various kinds, and one that is grown for making oil is quite peculiar: the peas grow three together like a berry. As we approached a somewhat barren district the men had to have a feast at our expense, and in view of the future scarcity of their much-esteemed pork, our soldiers had provided themselves with a large joint, which I found in one of the coolies’ hats attached to the back of my chair. They never scrupled to hang their dainties, besides an extensive wardrobe, pipes, &c., on to our chairs, and as the day proceeded they peeled off their coats till they had shed three or four at the least.

LAOWATAN RIVER

We noticed an odd procession one day wending its way along the opposite river-bank. First came a white banner with apparently two mourners; then a few people carrying little pennons of various colours; then a pig borne aloft on a shutter; then more boys and men carrying pennons; the whole accompanied by the beating of drums. The procession was on its way to a grave to pay homage to a dead ancestor, in which ceremony the pig would be the pièce de résistance at a sort of perennial feast for the dead. Later on we met a procession carrying a corpse on a stretcher, with no signs of mourning beyond a man strewing paper money after it.

We followed the beautiful river Laowat’an as far as the village of that name, and up to this point we were continually accompanied by the unmelodious cries of trackers pulling large junks up the rapids; beyond that point navigation is impossible. Laowat’an means “Cormorant rapid,” and although it is quite a good-sized village, we found that the only room at the inn was very small, filled with four dirty beds, with no window, and close to the most noxious open drain. Having seen in Little’s pamphlet about this journey that he had stayed at a native evangelist’s house here, we took the hint and sent to see if we could do likewise. We received an answer in the affirmative, and found that the house was close by. Though the evangelist himself was not at home, we were warmly welcomed by his wife. She took us to a nice large upper room, with a most attractive window overlooking the street, which was full of an amusing crowd busy marketing. One man’s occupation appeared to be carrying a pipe round, from which people had a whiff or two. We found our new quarters vastly more entertaining than the inn, and held an interesting conversation with our hostess by means of pictures and dumb-show, as we had no one to interpret. I hope we did not tell many lies by mistake, but fear that it is not improbable. The next morning we felt quite sorry to leave these nice people, who had been so friendly to us. We were greatly struck with the fine poultry all through this district. My Aberdonian poulterer would with great justice describe them as “some fine beasts.” There are the handsomest pure white and coal-black hens, besides fowls of various colours. The eggs, too, are a splendid size, and are to be obtained everywhere. The peculiarity of the fowls is that many of them have black skins and black bones, which are most unappetising to look at, but they are considered the best kind for eating. There were plenty of vegetables, pears, oranges, and peanuts to be had, and so far we could see no signs of the dearth of food of which we had heard such alarming accounts. There are everywhere pigs in abundance: some of them are a curious fawn colour.