Not only did Russia expend its money upon making Dalny a fine port, but also in making it a fine city and pleasant to live in. The residential quarter has been hewn out of the hill-side for about a couple of miles, and handsomely laid out, while a beautiful shady drive of seven or eight miles leads to the seashore facing the ocean.

The town is full of little carriages and rickshas, and a network of trams takes the passenger for an hour’s drive for the lordly sum of twopence, first class, and a penny farthing second class. As we drove in a tram to Chinatown in order to view the outskirts, we saw the beginnings of a park, a golf course, a baseball ground, a chrysanthemum garden, and various other things, but more amusing were the little bazaars and shops with their English notices—“To sell Flesh,” “Boots and Shoesmakea,” “High Barber,” “Royal House Hair Cutting,” &c. &c. English is the one European language which makes its way into every corner of the earth, and will with ever-increasing rapidity tend to become the universal means of communication. As an instance of this fact, the Chinese Government has just issued an order that henceforth English is to be the language in which science shall be taught throughout the Chinese Empire. This will, I fear, be a severe blow to our German friends, who were confidently expecting China to follow the example of Japan and take German as the scientific medium of instruction.

We left Dalny by the evening train for Liao Yang, en route for Ashiho, which forms the subject of the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIV
Ashiho

As we journeyed northward once more the cold steadily increased, and a biting wind found its way even into the railway carriages. At Kharbin a perfect blizzard had been blowing the previous day, and as it happened to be the Russian Easter, banks were closed and the tickets for the Russian State express train were not to be purchased. We discovered that the train service was all to be changed the next day, May 1st, and no time-tables were obtainable. The British Consul kindly promised to get our tickets on the Monday, and ascertained that we could join the express at Ashiho, a few stations down the Vladivostock line, where we were going to spend the week end.

We reached Ashiho about 9 o’clock, and set out for our destination in a droshky. It was a most perilous drive in the dark, for the roads—or what pass muster as roads—were in the worst possible condition; the spring thaw had set in, and the surface of the ground was a hopeless quagmire destined to last until there should be sufficient sunshine to dry it, for the wet was unable to penetrate the still frozen earth. Our friends at Hulan had set out that morning to meet us at Kharbin. After a long weary walk in a snowstorm they found the Kharbin steamer on the Sungari River crowded with passengers. An hour’s wait in a piercing wind was followed by the information that it was quite uncertain whether the boat would go at all that day, so they gave it up in despair and returned home. Practically speaking all traffic is stopped on the country roads at this time of the year, and those who walk must be prepared to wade knee deep in black mud to reach their destination. We had no catastrophe during our half-hour’s drive, but it was more by good luck than anything else.

Ashiho is rather a dull Chinese town with the usual Russian settlement round the railway station, which is about half a mile outside the gates. The Russians have insisted on the town being lighted at nights, but there is not more than enough light to show the darkness. A red light on the top of a lofty pole is the sign of public baths, which seemed to be the scene of much activity. The Russian droshky, with Chinese drivers, is apparently quite an institution there, but one wonders how they can make a living in such a locality. The town boasts a sugar factory, but owing to a bad beetroot season it was closed. A small community of Scotch missionaries is working there, and when they have got a new hospital and better premises, there is every prospect of greater growth in the work. The lady doctor, though only recently from home, and still in the first stages of learning the language, had over sixty patients waiting to see her, and the people seem more willing here than elsewhere to send for her in midwifery cases. As she is the only doctor, she has one day a week for men patients. The missionary premises are deplorable; if only some of the home committee could have enjoyed our quarters and heard the walls which enclose the compound falling down during the night, they would see the need for haste in building new ones. The girls’ school was being carried on under difficulties that would daunt any but the most resolute, but the workers are Scotch, and have learnt to laugh at difficulties. Less than two years ago one of the ladies was itinerating in the country, accompanied by a Biblewoman, when she was suddenly attacked by a party of mounted brigands. They treated her with considerable roughness, robbing not only her but also the Biblewoman and the carter of all that they considered worth stealing—money, watches, clothes, and food. Amongst other things they took her eiderdown—for this took place in the cold weather—but the Biblewoman had the happy inspiration to tell the robbers that it only contained feathers (which they utterly scorned), so they threw it away. They only left her one cent in money (evidently they had a sense of humour), and decamped somewhat hurriedly on seeing a party of horsemen appear in the distance, whom they took for soldiers.

There is plenty of ground belonging to the mission, but, as usual, funds for building are not forthcoming. It seems a pity that the home churches should keep on sending out workers without the requisite equipment to carry on their work. At home one frequently hears of the luxury in which missionaries live, but in my fairly considerable experience of mission houses, I have never met a single one where this is the case, and rarely (except in the case of American missions) have I been where the work has not been seriously hindered for the lack of funds. Most missionaries are driven by the necessities of their work to eke out by contributions from their own meagre salaries the insufficient funds provided from home. Many are consequently unable to afford to have newspapers and other literature sent out regularly, and the thoughtless kindness of their supporters does not supply them with anything beyond religious periodicals and books. The postage of papers and books is only the same as at home, and parcels weighing not more than 11 lb. can now be sent to China by post for the small sum of 2s. 11d., so there is no reason why the missionary’s life should not be occasionally brightened by a judicious present from the home country.

The one drawback to the position of the mission premises at Ashiho is that they are so near the wall beside the East gate, outside which is the public execution ground, and the gruesome procession to it passes alongside the mission houses. Shortly before our visit there had been executions twice in one week—the first time two men, and the second time four men were killed by strangulation.