It was just before entering this village that I was witness of a curious superstition. We were caught in a drizzle, and, as the shower clouds with a vivid rainbow approached us, my followers covered their mouths with their hats, fearful of the poisonous vapour which, they said are given forth by rainbows. I laughed at their superstition, and, as luck would have it, was seized, a few hundred yards beyond, with a sudden fit of vomiting. I received no sympathy, and my sickness gave strength to their theory.
The city of Tung-ch’uan lies five miles from the edge of the plain, down the west of which, through one of the most fertile fields of Western China, flows the I-li River on its way to join the Yang-tsze. The plain was one mass of green tints, from the light green of the paddy in the nurseries to the dark green of the more matured shoots in the fields. The town, which is nearly eight hundred feet above the Yün-nan Fu plain, is not at all imposing, consisting, as it does, of one main street; but the hills to the west impart to it its reputation of being one of the wealthiest prefectures of the province. They contain the most celebrated copper mines in the Empire.
A French Father, who resided here, welcomed me as if I had been a compatriot, and insisted on my spending the whole of the 8th of June in his company. He had a regular battery of rifles and fowling pieces, and turned out to be a keen sportsman. He had a stable of two splendid ponies, on whose backs we spent nearly the whole day careering through the Tung-ch’uan plain. None but those who have spent years in solitude in a strange land can realize what it is to meet a fellow European. China was entirely forgotten in the discussions of French and British politics, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could tear myself away from his kind hospitality on the following morning. All honour to men of surpassing ability who give up their lives for heart-breaking work in China!
A SUCCESSFUL RUSE.
On entering the hills which bound the Tung-ch’uan plain on the north, and which were almost devoid of human habitations, we were overtaken by a rainstorm, which continued throughout the day, and compelled us to abandon the hope of reaching the end of the stage that night. The road was soon reduced to a mass of pulp, bordering yawning chasms, whose circumvention by chairs was a source of difficulty and delay. The roof of the room in which we huddled together, in the wretched hamlet of Pan-pien-ch’ing, leaked at every tile, and necessitated the erection of a tent with our india-rubber sheeting. My troubles were only beginning, however, for, the rain still continuing on the following morning, my men refused to stir. My appeal that they were daily nearing Ssŭ-ch’uan, and that they had just rested a whole day in Tung-ch’uan, moved them not; and, seeing that the limit of concessions for their convenience had been reached, I took up the small iron box containing my supply of silver, and, calling my dog, set out alone. Plodding through a shallow mountain torrent, which now occupied the valley, I proceeded until I was out of sight of the hamlet, when I sat down upon a rock to wait the issue of events. The ruse was thoroughly successful; in half an hour the whole caravan turned up in the sullenest of tempers.
As luck would have it, our difficulties were just beginning. The torrent was soon blocked by hills, its waters obliterated the high-road, and we had to take to the hills on the left before it could be regained. We had not proceeded a mile, after a late breakfast, when we found the road effectually cut off by a raging torrent thirty yards in breadth and reaching above the waist. A whole hour was wasted in trying to find a shallow crossing, but in vain. The village of “Natural Bridge” (what a mockery!) lay on the left bank, and we called in eight of its most able-bodied to strip and assist in carrying our chairs across.
The sensation of fording was not a pleasant one. Twelve men with hands joined shouldered my chair, which rocked about like a boat in a stormy sea, now up, now down, as this or that man was washed off his feet. One of my servant’s bearers was carried away for a distance of thirty yards, and was ultimately rescued more dead than alive by a cordon of men from the opposite bank. Several strings of cash which he had round his neck acted as an anchor to his head, and it was only when they disappeared in the current that he was able to regain his footing. Another who attempted to cross with the assistance of a pole had also to be dragged ashore.
CHINESE HOSPITALITY.
On a ridge five miles beyond is the hamlet of Liang-shui-ching, which, as the name implies, is provided with a splendid well of cold, clear water. Here the inhabitants had turned the middle of the road into a kitchen, where sundry messes were being cooked for hungry wayfarers. Sitting round a stove, presided over by a buxom young lady, my followers regained their good humour in recounting the adventures of the day; and, when a complaint was raised because salt was not forthcoming, the beauty laughingly told them that travellers by this route did not care for salt!
It is a trite but true saying, that misfortunes never come singly. Owing to the numerous delays that had occurred during the day, it was late in the afternoon before we reached the hamlet of Shan-hu-shu, where, notwithstanding its uninviting appearance, we found it necessary to put up for the night. There was no inn, and every room was already occupied by its legitimate owners. The quest seemed hopeless when I stepped into a mud hut of two rooms, one tenanted by a crowd of natives, the other by a couple of cows and a pig. After a considerable expenditure of argument and less money, we induced the owners to remove and fraternize with their cattle for the night, and hand over the byre for our accommodation. The pig was the only one who offered any serious objection; his gruntings over-night and attacks on the intervening door somewhat disturbed our slumbers, while sundry squeals told me that my men found his familiarities too pronounced.