Tea Picking And Yield.
Chinese tea grown among the mountains and hillsides was in Mr. Fortune's time distinguished as "Hill tea," while both large and diminutive plantations on the lowlands or the plains were all called "tea gardens," a term which is now applied by the English to the extensive plantations of Ceylon and India.
Some of the largest tea plantations in China turned out, say, 500 chests, or 30,000 pounds, of tea per annum, at the same period.
In both China and the East Indies a common custom prevails of planting tea bushes about four feet apart, each way, and they are pruned down to a height varying from three to six feet, to bring the topmost leaves within reach of the picker. In both named countries, a first crop of tea leaves may be gathered from the plant at three years from the seed, but a full crop is not expected until the plant is about six years old. "A Chinese plantation of tea, seen from a distance," says Mr. Fortune, "looks like a little shrubbery of evergreens." And when journeying in the Bohea black tea country, he remarks—"As we threaded our way amongst the hills I observed tea gathers busily employed on all the hill sides where the plantations were. They seemed a contended and happy race; the joke and merry laugh were going around; and some of them were singing as gaily as the birds in the old trees about the temples." There is an old Chinese ballad of some 30 stanzas, which pictures the reflections of a Chinese maiden who is employed in picking tea in early spring, from we select a few verses, literally translated.
"Our household dwells amidst ten thousand hills,
Where the tea, north and south of the village, abundantly grows;
From Chinshe to Kuhyu, unceasingly hurried,
Every morning I must early rise to do my task of tea.
"By earliest dawn, I at my toilet, only half dress my hair,
And seizing my basket, pass the door, while yet the mist is thick;
The little maids and graver dames hand in hand winding along,
Ask me, 'which steep of Sunglo do you climb to-day?'
"My splint-basket slung on my arm, my hair adorned with flowers,
I go to the side of the Sunglo hills, and pick the mountain tea.
Amid the pathway going, we sisters one another rally, And
laughing, I point to younder village—'there's our house!'
"This pool has limpid water, and there deep the lotus grows;
Its little leaves are round as coins, and only yet half blown;
Going to the jutting verge, near a clear and shallow spot,
I try my present looks, mark how of late my face appears.
"The rain is passed, the utmost leaflets show their greenish veins;
Pull down a branch, and the fragrant scent is diffused around.
Both high and low, the yellow golden threads are now quite culled;
And my clothes and frock are dyed with odors through and through.
"The sweet and fragrant perfumes like that from the Aglaia;
In goodness and appearance my tea'll be the best in Wuyen,
When all are picked, the new buds by next term will again burst forth,
And this morning, the last third gathered is quite done.