CHAPTER II
RELIGIOUS AND NATIONAL FÊTES
It is terribly hot, forty degrees in the shade, and summer has only just begun. It is the fifth day of the fifth moon, the date on which the Fête of the Dragon is celebrated.
The town changes its aspect completely. This is owing to the numberless red papers which are stuck on every door, and on which can be read wishes of happiness formulated in the most diversified manner. At the side of these papers are two bunches of Indian grass, with the roots tightly tied up with red strings, nailed to the door. It is a popular belief that this plant, with its sword-shaped leaves, drives away all evil spirits.
After having performed the usual sacrifices before the tablets of our ancestors, we feast en famille on ceremonial dishes, and drink that wine, tinctured with orpiment, which, according to a very general opinion, destroys the germs of epidemic diseases for the whole ensuing year.
When noon strikes we hasten to put bowls of water in the courtyard to catch the rays of the sun, which is in the centre of the sky. It is said that the water thus irradiated renders excellent services to women in labour.
After breakfast we go to the West Lake to see the dragon canoe races. These are very long flat boats, manned by from twenty to thirty oarsmen. The figure-head is either a colossal dragon or a prancing horse. A sailor astride on the animal holds in his hands a large flag, the movements of which serve as commands to the helmsman, who is standing motionless at the stern. Behind the dragon is an orchestra, which fills the air with the rolling of drums, mingled with the thunder of the tam-tams.
The goal is seen far off; sometimes it is a living duck. When the boat approaches the bird dives under and tries to escape, but it is usually caught after a short chase, and brought up in triumph, struggling and squealing. More often, however, it is a large piece of bamboo, to which is fastened a piece of rich silk stuff, the offering of some society. The winner keeps this as his prize.
As soon as the signal has been given the struggle begins; flags fly, waving now to the left, now to the right, indicating the way to be followed to the human statue, who, seated at the helm, guides the effort of the sailors. Urged on by the numerous oars, the canoes glide rapidly over the water, like gigantic centipedes, amidst the cries of the spectators, crowding together on the banks, or on the decks and in the cabins of the pleasure-junks anchored along the river side.