Through Unknown Tibet

by M. S. Wellby

Next morning we had to wait till the main gates were open, as our road lay through the city. The innkeeper coolly demanded 1,160 cash for the use of his rooms, but after a very few moments was more than satisfied with 360, in addition to which we of course gave a douceur to the man who had waited on us, as is the custom. A biting cold wind was blowing from the west, and as it was also freezing hard, it was quite the most unpleasant day of the whole journey, but it was not till we got in the open country, outside the walls, that we really felt the full force of the gale. The road was crowded with travellers going to and from Pekin, and one could not but envy the wealthy individuals who, sitting snugly in their neatly-made sedan chairs, could despise both wind and cold. Usually we used to wonder how even a Chinaman could sit all day in one of these conveyances, from which every breath of fresh air was carefully excluded, but to-day I think we would gladly have got into the stuffiest of them had we got the chance.

But if it were bad for us, what must it have been for the people travelling against the wind? Time after time we congratulated ourselves on the wind being at our backs. Several unfortunate Russians whom we met looked as though the wind was nearly cutting them in two, while Mongols and Chinese sat with their backs towards the heads of their camels or mules as they rode along. One poor man, whose whole attention was fixed on keeping himself warm, was very nearly run over by our carts in spite of all our warning shouts. Somehow, watching the misery of others always makes one forget one's own, and we were able to laugh at the ludicrous though pitiable faces of those we met, and in this way the fifty li to Cha-Tao passed less unpleasantly than it could otherwise have done.

Just before reaching this village we passed through another of the many ramifications of the Great Wall, behind which we cowered until the carts came up, wondering all the time what had happened to the unfortunate Shahzad Mir. Where could he have passed the night? What was he doing now? How would he manage for food? These and many other questions we asked one another, but decided that the only way in which we could help him was to get to Pekin quickly, and give notice at the yamen there of his disappearance.

From the wall to the inn was a very short way, and soon after the carts had come up we found ourselves in a crowded inn, where every one was busy; all the travellers were shivering like ourselves, and all clamouring for hot tea and other luxuries. At length we managed to get something, and had just got well into a substantial meal, when, to our surprise and delight, Shahzad Mir strode into the yard. While some food was being got ready for him he told us his tale. After missing us in the dark, on the morning of the 25th, he had quite made up his mind that we must be ahead, so on and on he went, eventually leaving the right road to his left. By midday he realized that he was lost, but this did not seem to have bothered him in the least. He knew that we were making for Pekin or Peh Chine, as the people call it, and guessed that by repeating that word in an inquiring tone of voice, he would get people to show him the road. He also knew that Pekin lay pretty well due east, so made up his mind to hold his course in that direction until he got to the sea, if necessary, after which he hoped to fall in with some European who would help him. At nightfall he thought he ought to try and get some food and lodging. He was in a fair-sized town, so walked into the biggest shop he could see, and made the owner understand his wants. Food they gave him willingly, but it was some time before he could get them to let him stay the night, his dark-coloured face apparently filling them with awe; but at last he attained his object, and got not only a good night's rest, but a substantial meal before leaving in the morning, for all of which his host absolutely refused payment.

THE GREAT WALL AT CHA-TAO.

Somehow or other the dark complexions of our retainers always struck awe into the minds of the Chinamen, and time after time Rijnhart had to answer questions as to whether these men were "really wild or not." Esau especially, with his flowing Ladakhi locks and earrings, was an object of fear and wonder, being taken for either a woman or a cannibal, greatly to his own disgust, though luckily he could not understand the remarks aroused by his strange appearance, unless they were explained by Rijnhart afterwards.

After breakfast the wind dropped a bit, and the cold was much less than it had been, for which we had reason to be thankful, as about two li beyond Cha-Tao we passed through the Great Wall again, and were able to see it at its best. It is here made of rubble, and splendidly faced with stone; towers are placed at regular intervals, and the top is broad enough for any troops to pass one another without the slightest difficulty or confusion. Just by the gate a flight of steps leads up to the wall, from which we looked down the valley towards Cha-Tao, and I also managed to take a photograph showing the wall as it runs away over the hill tops to the north.

One could now for the first time realize the magnitude of the original design, and had the whole northern frontier of China been divided off from Mongolia by a wall, such as this is near Pekin, and some 1,600 miles in length, there would have been nothing in the world to compare with it. Just behind the wall we found an old cannon, the inscription on which was copied by Rijnhart, as he believed that it proved the gun to be some three thousand years old, but unluckily we had no books at hand to corroborate this idea, or to tell us how old it really was. The name of the Emperor in whose reign it was made was very clear, and a book of dates would show at once between what years the gun was made.