A medical missionary in the East may be of incalculable benefit to thousands, and Dr. Raquette’s successful operations for cataract, in particular, brought him patients from far Khotan. Unfortunately the Kashgaris were much under the influence of their mullas and of the native doctors, who, not unnaturally, objected to foreign methods, the result being that they often came to the Swedes only when they were at the point of death. Moreover, though they looked robust they seemed to have little strength to resist the inroads of disease, and any serious illness carried them off very speedily.
The mission was started a quarter of a century ago, Dr. and Mrs. Höegberg, whom we met later at Yarkand, being its oldest members. At first it met with persecution, the Chinese stirring up the Kashgaris to besiege the little community in their house, but fortunately Mr. Macartney, as he then was, rode to the rescue with his chuprassis, and some Russian Cossacks aided him in the work of driving off the mob.
The Kashgari roughs then wreaked their vengeance on the new hospital that was being built on the site which it now occupies, and every kind of threat was used to induce the missionaries to leave Kashgar; but they stood firm, and finally the Chinese official who was their enemy was recalled, and forced to rebuild the hospital at his own cost. His successor announced the change of policy by inviting the members of the mission to a great banquet, at which the much-esteemed swallows’-nest soup was served, and so the hatchet was buried for good.
I always thought that the apple-pie order of the mission buildings and the excellent fruit and vegetables grown in the garden were a good object-lesson to the Kashgaris, and indeed they were not insensible of this, as the following anecdote shows. When one of the missionaries had engaged a servant he heard an old retainer remark to the new recruit: “You must be sure not to be dirty, because these people are so clean that if they are forced to say an unclean word they go immediately and wash out their mouths!” My informant also told me that a servant of one of the lady missionaries, being short of cash, took all her plates to the bazar and sold them. When she turned upon him in righteous wrath, he remarked: “Oh, mistress, you are not blaming me properly,” and he actually poured out a string of most abusive epithets, inviting, nay imploring her to use them upon him!
Our days soon fell into a routine broken by the English post with its month-old newspapers, which we devoured eagerly. The Reuter sent across the passes from Gilgit gave us somewhat later information about the War, and the Russians received occasional telegrams; but their knowledge of geography was so limited that my brother had much difficulty in eliciting any clear statement as to what was going on.
Riding was our chief amusement, and we purchased two fine Badakshani horses of the breed described by Marco Polo, and were usually in the saddle by half-past seven. The morning air was delightfully cool, and the rides were wonderfully varied, a fresh one for each day of the month we used to say. There was also the sound of running water in the numberless irrigation channels as we rode under the trees along sandy tracks free from stones and ideal for cantering. An added charm was the fact that the walls enclosing gardens and fields were quite low, and as a rule the crops were not fenced in at all, save by low banks of earth.
At first we used to be accompanied on our walks and rides by Bielka and Brownie, the dogs that the Macartneys had left in our care. Bielka was a powerful white animal rather like a wolf, and unluckily had such an unconquerable dislike to Europeans that he had to be chained up whenever visitors came to the house. On our arrival Lady Macartney “introduced” us to him by providing us with bits of meat to give him as a peace-offering, and we became excellent friends.
It was amusing on our walks to watch him and Brownie, the fat, easygoing spaniel; for the latter, an arrant coward, would pick quarrels with the pariah dogs and then call his comrade to his aid, the enemy fleeing in confusion as soon as Bielka appeared. But when we found that, if a Cossack rode past, the great dog would rush at him like a fury and try to tear him from his horse, and when on the same walk we had to race to the rescue of a young Russian couple, the edict went forth that our would-be guardian must be left at home. It went to my heart to refuse him when he implored me to let him escort us; for he was most charming to his friends and kept the Consulate free of thieves, as he roamed about the place all night.
Though the Consulate was close to the city wall, we could turn almost at once into shady lanes, bordered with irrigation channels, along which willows, poplars and mulberries grew luxuriantly; while on either side stretched fields green with lucerne and springing wheat, barley and maize. But all the growth and prosperity of the Oasis was entirely dependent upon the water, and should this source of life fail great would be the devastation. One day we came upon a district where a big network of irrigation channels had run dry owing to the bursting of a dam, and hundreds of men were labouring against time to repair it and thereby save the trees and crops. The corvée system is in force in Chinese Turkestan, and although tyrannical according to Western ideas, it is certainly for the public benefit in such a case as this. The villagers are forced to repair all roads and water channels in their own districts, but the hardship comes in when their Chinese rulers undertake to reclaim land from the desert and commandeer men from considerable distances. They are supposed in such cases to be paid threepence a day for their food, but it is rumoured that this money usually goes into the pockets of the headmen.
The Kashgar Oasis is watered by the Kizil Su (Red River, so called from its colour) and its branch the Tuman Su, which make the city and its environs an island. In April there was little water in either stream, so we could ford them easily on horseback; but during the summer it was a different matter. We were warned to be on our guard for quicksands in these rivers. Mr. Bohlin was once nearly caught in one, but feeling his horse sinking beneath him he threw himself off in haste and wading waist-deep he pulled the animal ashore. On another occasion he observed several men trying to extricate a horse that had sunk so deeply that it took the whole day to free it. These quicksands are less to be feared in deep water which buoys the animals up. The Kashgaris always hurry their horses over any suspicious place, but as the dangerous areas are constantly changing, it is impossible to be sure of their whereabouts.