I passed many pleasant evenings with Tho and Nghi, who would favour me with stories of war and love, legends of ancient origin, in which the actors were demi-gods, dragons and genii, and strange fables full of local colour, replete with quaint proverbs and philosophical axioms dear to the disciples of Confucius. Unfortunately, I was soon to be deprived of the real pleasure obtained from these foregatherings, for my section received orders to proceed to Cho-Trang, and I was thus suddenly separated from my two friends. It was not without some regret that I accepted this hazard of a soldier's life, against which one should not murmur; and I was really sorry that the opportunity afforded me for the study of the complex characteristics of Tho and Nghi should have been such a brief one.
My new location was a small fort situated to the north-west, on the confines of the Yen-Thé province, about 60 miles from Nha-Nam as the crow flies, but a good 80 by road. Owing to its position in a rugged, forest-clad mountainous region, and to its being surrounded, a few hundred yards away, by a chain of rocky heights, green with the vegetation which flourished in the crevices, it was found to be so unhealthy that the military authorities had, up till October 1891, contented themselves with maintaining a garrison of native soldiers there. Owing, however, to the approaching operations against the rebels, and to the fact that Cho-Trang was situated on the left flank of their positions, and close to several paths leading into their country, it was found necessary to strengthen the force there for a few months; since by these tracks it would be quite possible for some of the Chinese bands, established in the hills around Lang-son, to come to the assistance of De-Nam.
From Nha-Nam our detachment marched via Cao-Thuong to Phulang-Thuong, whence we served as an escort to a convoy going to Lang-son. We went by the famous mandarin road which had been the scene of the retreat of General de Négriers army in March, 1885.
Our rate of progress was a slow one, for the vehicles we escorted were heavy carts, drawn by tame buffaloes, or native wheel-barrows of a most peculiar pattern, constructed entirely of bamboo and ironwood, without a single nail or screw. The wheel consisted of a big wooden disc about 3 feet in diameter, which revolved on a teak axle, and produced a loud scratching noise as these clumsy carriages trundled over the rough road. The regulation load for these barrows was about 180 pounds, and to each of them there were two Chinese coolies. One pushed the barrow from behind, with a strap, each end of which was attached to a handle, passing over his shoulders, and thus relieving the wheel of some of the weight carried; and another was in front, hitched to a rope tied to the horn of this prehistoric little vehicle. The creaking of the wheels and continued yelling chatter of the Chinese created a perfect pandemonium of sound. Our convoy was more than 2 miles long, so that when the head had reached a halting-place, and its escort was able to obtain rest and refreshment, the unfortunate soldiers in the rear were still toiling slowly along, and would arrive at an étape to find that only a short space of time remained for them to refresh their tired legs and empty stomachs.
After Kep, the scene of Major Dugenne's reverse in June, 1884, the road passed through a stretch of scenery wild and magnificent. By a succession of loops and curves the route rose and passed round the flank of one mountain after another. Sometimes the convoy crept slowly over small bridges spanning mountain torrents, overhung with dense, tropical vegetation. Now the road would wind through beautiful thickets of bamboo, so dense that it would have been impossible to penetrate it. At times we skirted deep woods and charming combes full of thick undergrowth, palms and creepers. Often the track dipped and traversed fine valleys, covered with waving jungle grass; beyond this could be seen a vista of hills overrun with black forest, or chain upon chain of massive rocks, 1,000 feet high, all bedecked with variegated foliage. On or near the track there were few signs of animal or bird life, with the exception of the ubiquitous sparrow and the ever-present kite, though the vanguard occasionally disturbed a flight of chattering parrakeets, or scared away small herds of deer, which, with a few bounds, would disappear into the jungle. We halted at Kep, Sui-ganh and Bac-Lé, and passed the night in the forts at these places. Here the convoy was packed in an enclosure surrounded by a high bamboo fence, fires being kept burning all night to scare away tigers and panthers, as there were many in the jungle along the road.
The coolies, on their arrival, were told off into squads, and the daily ration of rice and salt fish was served out to them. This they cooked in copper pots, and the men of each squad squatted round the fires awaiting their evening meal, while one of their comrades, who acted as cook for the occasion, kept stirring the stew with a bamboo stick.
Most of these Celestials were tall, well-made men, whose lower limbs were abnormally developed—a natural result of the calling they followed—and, like the majority of their race, they evidently possessed a strong dislike to soap and water, for they were extremely filthy. They were clothed, like the men of the mountain tribes in this region of the Tonquin, in a costume consisting of a vest and pantaloons of blue cotton cloth, which, in most cases, was in a terribly ragged condition.
For pay they received twenty-five cents per diem (about fivepence), plus their daily rations.
The meal finished, the majority indulged in a few pipes of cheap opium, locally known as Sai, and the surface of the compound was starred over with the numerous tiny twinkles of their little lamps. These went out one by one, and before midnight the camp was plunged in silence and slumber, the naked limbs of the sleeping coolies having the appearance of old ivory or new bronze in the flickering glimmer of the watch-fires, round which they reclined. Then the stillness of the night would be broken only by the song of the cicalas, the crackle of burning wood, the occasional call of the sentries, and the far-away cop! cop! cop! of a tiger hunting in the hills.
At Bac-Lé our detachment left the convoy, and abandoning the highroad, we struck off due north by a small path which led to Cho-Trang. We set out before daybreak, so as to avoid marching in the midday heat, and were accompanied by a guide and several coolies bearing lighted torches made of split bamboo as a precaution against wild beasts.