From the Arctic Ocean to the Yellow Sea

by Julius M. Price

Although there is no visible boundary-line between Mongolia and China, the difference was manifest immediately we left Saham-Balhousar. On all sides were small hamlets scattered about the plain, whilst the country was laid out in plantations and fields, which were simply teeming with industrious peasants. It was a very different scene from anything met with over the border amongst the lazy Mongols.

Towards the evening the plains ahead of us were walled in by what appeared to be a line of low rocky hills. In vain I looked for the magnificent mountain range which I had been told encompasses Kalgan, and over the summit of which the Great Wall winds its immense length; yet we were certainly near enough, I thought, for any really high mountains to be visible by now, but nothing at all like a mountain was in sight. It was getting dusk, and the moon rising, when we reached the confines of the plain and began to descend a hill, or rather a steep rocky road leading right into the hills themselves, and which at every instant grew steeper and rougher.

After proceeding for some little time I noticed quite by accident that the moon, which was at its full and shining gloriously in a cloudless sky, was becoming gradually obscured; we were evidently going to witness an eclipse, and just at a time when we wanted as much light as possible to help us pick our way amongst the boulders with which the track was encumbered. Much to the dismay of our drivers, it grew darker and darker, until at last not a speck of light was left even to indicate where the brilliant orb had recently been, and our boys of their own accord halted the caravan and bowed themselves repeatedly to the earth, muttering prayers and incantations. It was so weird and supernatural an effect, that it made me almost think I was in a dream. This idea was, however, soon dispelled, for the road was realistic and material enough, for it had meanwhile been getting so steep and rocky, and the path so narrow, that we all had to walk and lend a hand at getting the waggons through.

I then suddenly remembered that the whole plateau of Mongolia is more than five thousand feet above the sea, so we were almost level before with the tops of the mountains which form the northern boundary of China. This, then, was the rocky range of hills we had been approaching during the evening; we were now, therefore, on our way down into the Celestial Empire. As we gradually descended, the granite cliffs and peaks loomed up higher and higher around us, and so dark was the night, that at times it became positively dangerous to advance owing to the obscurity and the numerous precipices along the edge of which the track lay. The moon remained hidden for nearly two hours, till just as dawn showed signs of breaking, when she began to appear once more, to the evident relief of our followers. Half-way down, at the end of the worst bit, we halted for a couple of hours to have a rest and feed the animals, and I felt so knocked up after my long and rough walk, or rather climb, that I immediately fell into a deep sleep, from which I only woke just as we were starting again.

It was now broad daylight and a lovely morning—so lovely, in fact, that it would require the pen of a poet to convey any idea of the glorious sunrise in that remote mountain-pass. We were now but a short distance from Kalgan, but the track was so rough that our progress was very slow, for we were still descending through a sort of gorge which looked like the old bed of a river. The scenery at times appeared magnificent; still, even in these wild and uninviting surroundings, the ever-energetic Celestials had seized on every available spot, and high up the almost precipitous sides of the mountains one could see here and there little patches of cultivation, which in places were so numerous as to form what looked like terraces on the side of the precipices, each plot being surrounded by a miniature wall. Certainly, one’s first impressions of the Chinese, especially when coming from Mongolia, are such as to make one absolutely admire their marvellous energy and industry; this impression is, however, somewhat modified later by more intimate knowledge of the people.

One of the quaintest sights I think I have ever seen was in this pass, when we reached a little village (of which I forget the name), and which was built right on the face of the mountain itself. The effect of the tiny houses perched right away up in mid-air, and the glimpse of its blue-coated inhabitants dotted here and there like dolls, was quite unique. The awful state of the road over which I was being bumped to pieces somewhat marred, however, my appreciation of the scenery through which we were passing.

We were now quite close to our destination, and the traffic around us increased every moment; in a short time, a turn in the road showed me the welcome sight of a big cluster of houses. This was Yambooshan, a suburb of Kalgan, where lived the Russian tea merchants, and to one of whom I had a letter of introduction. My journey across the “Great Hungry Desert” was accomplished, and I was once more within touch of civilization.

CHAPTER XXVI.
KALGAN TO PEKING.

A hearty welcome—Yambooshan—The Great Wall of China—American missionaries—My mule-litter—From Kalgan to Peking—Scenery on the road—Chinese inn—First experience of a Chinese dinner—Amusing rencontre—The Nankaou Pass—The Second Parallel of the Great Wall—First impressions of Peking—The entrance to the city.