Having in a previous chapter described the country between Kuei-yang Fu and the capital of Yün-nan, I need offer no apology for requesting my reader to accompany me once more into the plain of Chan-i Chou, now yellow with golden wheat, and thus obviate the necessity of describing another weary ride over the red uplands of Eastern Yün-nan. Yet I would fain impart that confidence which was placed in me by some scholars who were my companions during these five stages; and, to this end, I must first say a few words on the subject of competitive examinations in China.
With few exceptions, these examinations are open to any candidate who thinks he possesses sufficient ability to pass. The lowest degree is that of licentiate, and the examination takes place at the capital of the prefecture within which the candidate’s district happens to be. The next degree is that of provincial graduate, the examination for which is also triennial, and is held in the capital of the province. The candidates for this second degree are mostly those who have taken the degree of licentiate in open competition. The competition for the highest degree, that of metropolitan graduate, takes place at Peking in the year following the examinations for provincial graduates throughout the Empire, to whom alone it is open. Success in this final examination is always a certain stepping-stone to official employment. I speak of the civil, not of the military service. To provincial graduates proceeding to compete at the metropolis, passes are issued on application, and these, pasted on their cases, exempt their baggage from examination and taxation en route. This is no small matter, for a graduate’s effects usually consist of some of the products or manufactures of his province, for which he can find a ready market in Peking. My companions were three in number, and they were jointly interested in a caravan of seventeen pack-animals laden with protected cases, which they unhesitatingly told me contained opium and marble from Ta-li. It would be a consideration to many a Scotch student if, in going up to London to compete in the Civil Service Examinations, they were allowed to carry with them as baggage a few kegs of duty-free whiskey!
QUARTERED IN A CHIMNEY.
In parts of the Chan-i plain, which we entered on the afternoon of the 22nd of May, some little anxiety was being manifested as to the supply of water for irrigation purposes. At one spot we found the high-road dammed, and my followers had to doff their nether garments before they could get through. The luckless peasants did not escape considerable abuse. “How dare you,” rose the angry shouts, “turn the roads into reservoirs?” A low undulating plateau, only partly cultivated, succeeds the plain to the north-east. The few villages dotted about were partly concealed in groves of walnut trees, and the encircling crops of oats, potatoes, beans, buckwheat, Indian corn, wheat, and poppy were decidedly inferior. What else could be expected of a light clay soil? There was one redeeming feature about this plateau, however, which should not be passed over. The roads were available for cart-traffic. Would our quarters be sufficiently comfortable to detain us over the 24th of May? was the question that occupied my mind as I rode into the village of Lai-yuan-p’u on the evening of the 23rd, drenched to the skin, and far in advance of my followers. We had been overtaken in the open by a tremendous rain-storm, and I left the caravan and pushed on for shelter. I immediately selected the loft as my share of the inn, and everything promised well until my men turned up, when a fire had to be lit to dry their clothes and cook our food. It was only then that I discovered that the smoke had no outlet except through the loft, that I had, in fact, taken up my quarters in the chimney of the inn. The loft had to be abandoned for a mud cell on the ground floor, and the morrow’s holiday had to be dispensed with.
To the north of Lai-yuan-p’u the road passes through a short barrier of rocky heights, and enters a small plain containing a village and a lakelet to the north-east of it. To this succeeds an undulating, all but uncultivated, rain-washed plateau, where the road was in many places swept away—deep nullahs showing the direction the torrents had taken. This plateau was not altogether without value, for it contained numerous wells or pits whence coloured clays for the manufacture of earthenware were being extracted.
Here the people were of a very inquisitive turn of mind. To have to take one’s meals in a chair is bad enough—infinitely preferable, nevertheless, to a smoky, dirty, mud cell; but to be surrounded by a mob of gaping men, women, and children, watching every mouthful, does not tend to the preservation of temper, and it required all the banter I could command to make even a temporary impression and keep the peace. This was our experience a few miles to the south of Hsüan-wei Chou, the last city through which we had to pass before entering the province of Kuei-chow.
This city, which is of very little importance, lies on the left bank of a stream flowing south-east to swell the West River, and not the Yang-tsze, as some map-makers would try to make us believe. Coal and iron are both found in the neighbourhood, and a coolie, with a load of the latter on his back, asked us whether it was the case, as he had heard, that the Governor-General of Yün-nan and Kuei-chow was in want of all the available metal for the manufacture of guns. I regretted my inability to satisfy the curiosity of this would-be trader. Lime is also found and was being extensively used as manure.
TRAVELLERS, BEWARE OF T’ANG-T’ANG!
T’ang-t’ang, the terminus of the first stage from and to the north-east of Hsüan-wei, is approached through a series of narrow valleys separated by precipitous hills. It lies on a hill-side near the meeting of two streams. How well I remember the miserable village! Travellers, beware of T’ang-t’ang! Its bugs were ravenous, and a sorry figure we all cut next day as we hurried to the Kuei-chow frontier.