Few villages are met with; but you observe, in all directions, farms of various sizes separated from one another by meadows. The eye does not rest upon either groves or pleasure-gardens. Except a few large trees round the dwellings, all the land is devoted to the cultivation of corn; they do not even reserve a space for stacking the harvest, but pile it up on the tops of the houses, which are always flat-roofed. On the days of the general irrigation, the country gives you a perfect idea of those famous inundations of the Nile, the descriptions of which have become so classic. The inhabitants traverse their fields in small skiffs, or in light carts with enormous wheels, and generally drawn by buffaloes.
These irrigations, so conducive to the fertility of the land, are a great pest to travellers. The roads are generally covered with water and mud, so that you cannot use them, but must labour along the mounds which form the boundaries of the fields. When you
have to guide camels over such roads, it is the height of misery. We did not advance a single step without the fear of seeing our baggage fall into the mud; and more than once such an accident did occur, throwing us into infinite embarrassment. In fact, that the misfortune did not oftener befall us, was solely attributable to the skill in mud-walking which our camels had acquired in their apprenticeship amongst the marshes of the Ortous.
In the evening of our first day’s march, we arrived at a small village called Wang-Ho-Po; we had expected to find here the same facility in obtaining provisions as at Ché-Tsui-Dze, but we were soon undeceived. The customs were not the same; those amiable restaurateurs, with their baskets of ready-dressed viands, were no longer visible. Forage-dealers were the only persons who came to offer their goods. We therefore commenced by giving the animals their rations, and afterwards went into the village to see if we could find any provisions for our own supper. On our return to the inn, we were obliged to cook our own supper; the host merely furnished us with water, coal, and a meal-kettle. Whilst we were peaceably occupied in appreciating the result of our culinary labours, a great tumult arose in the courtyard of the inn. It was occasioned by a caravan of camels, conducted by Chinese merchants, who were going to the town of Ning-Hia. Destined for the same route as themselves, we soon entered into conversation. They told us that the direct road to Ning-Hia was so bad as to be impracticable, even for the best camels; but they added, they were acquainted with a cross-road shorter and less dangerous, and they invited us to go with them. As they were to depart in the night, we called the host in order to settle our account. After the Chinese fashion, when sapeks are in question, on one side they ask much, on the other they offer too little; then there is a long squabble, and after mutual concessions you come to an agreement. As they thought us Tartars, it was quite a matter of course with them to ask us nearly triple the just amount: the result was, that the dispute was twice as long as it ordinarily is. We had to discuss the matter vigorously; first, for ourselves, then for our beasts, for the room, the stabling, the watering, the kettle, the coal, the lamp, for every single item, until at length we got the innkeeper down to the tariff of civilised people. The unfortunate Tartar exterior, which, for other reasons, we had assumed, had been the occasion of our acquiring a certain degree of dexterity in discussions of this kind; for not a day passed, during our journey through the province of Kan-Sou, in which we had not to quarrel, in this manner, with innkeepers. Such quarrels, however, involve no disagreeable results; you dispute, and dispute, and
then you come to an agreement, and the matter is over, and you are as good friends as ever with your antagonist.
It was scarcely past midnight when the Chinese camel-drivers were on foot, making, with great tumult, their preparations for departure. We rose, but it was to no purpose that we expedited the saddling of our animals; our fellow travellers were ready before us and went on, promising to proceed slowly till we came up with them. The instant that our camels were ready, we departed. The night was dark; it was impossible to discover our guides. With the aid of a small lamp we sought traces of them, but we were not successful. Our only course, therefore, was to proceed, at chance, across these marshy plains, which were altogether unknown to us. We soon found ourselves so involved in the inundated soil, that we dared advance no farther, and halted at a bank, and there awaited daybreak.
As soon as the day dawned, we directed our steps, by a thousand ins and outs, towards a large walled town that we perceived in the distance; it was Ping-Lou-Hien, a town of the third class. Our arrival in this town occasioned lamentable disorder. The country is remarkable for the number and beauty of its mules; and at this juncture there was one of these standing, fastened by a halter, before each of the houses of the long street, which we were traversing from north to south. As we proceeded, all these animals, seized with fright at the sight of our camels, reared on their hind legs and dashed with violence against the shops; some broke the halters which confined them, tore off at a gallop, and overthrew, in their flight, the stalls of the street merchants. The people gathered together, sent forth shouts, anathematised the stinking Tartars, cursed the camels, and increased the disorder instead of lessening it. We were grieved to find that our presence had such unfortunate results; but what could we do? We could not render the mules less timid, nor prevent the camels from having a frightful appearance. One of us, at last, determined to run on before the caravan, and inform the people of the approach of the camels. This precaution diminished the evil, which did not, however, entirely cease until we were outside the gates of the town.
We had intended to breakfast at Ping-Lou-Hien; but, not having conciliated the good-will of its inhabitants, we dared not stop there. We had only the courage to purchase some provisions, for which we paid an exorbitant price, the occasion not being favourable for bargaining. At some distance from the town, we came to a guard-house, where we stopped to rest awhile, and to take our morning repast. These guard-houses are very numerous in China, the rule being that there shall be one of them at every
half-league, on all the great roads. Of a singular and entirely Chinese construction, these barracks consist of a little edifice, either of wood or earth, but always whitewashed. In the centre, is a kind of shed, entirely without furniture, and with one large opening in front. This is reserved for unfortunate travellers, who, during the night, being overtaken by bad weather, cannot take refuge in an inn. On each side is a little room with doors and windows, and sometimes with a wooden bench painted red, by way of furniture. The exterior of the barrack is decorated with rude pictures, representing the gods of war, cavalry, and fabulous animals; on the walls of the shed are drawn all the weapons used in China, matchlocks, bows, and arrows, lances, bucklers, and sabres of every description. At a little distance from the barrack, you see on the right a square tower, and on the left, five small posts standing in a line. These denote the five lis which are the distance from one guard-house to another; frequently a large board, on two poles, informs the traveller of the names of the nearest towns, in that quarter. The directions on the board now before us were these:—
From Ping-Lou-Hien to Ning-Hia, fifty lis.
Northwards to Ping-Lou-Hien, five lis.
Southwards to Ning-Hia, forty-five lis.