In the north-westernmost province of the kingdom, Kansu, is a famous old town, named Si-ning, surrounded with a fine stone wall. I had completed my first journey through Tibet and came to Si-ning on November 23, 1896, accompanied by my servant, Islam Bay.
When we left Si-ning we had a riding horse each, and six mules with their three drivers. They accompanied us for some days as far as a small town, where we exchanged them for two large, heavy carts on two wheels and covered with a tilt of straw matting. In one we packed all our things, in the other I took my seat, while Islam rode. Each cart was drawn by a mule and two horses, driven by a pleasant Chinaman. I had no interpreter, and had to get along with the few words I had managed to pick up.
For six days we travelled northwards through the Kansu mountains, going up and down all the way over stony passes and over frozen rivers with or without neck-breaking bridges. The carts creaked and rocked through narrow hollow roads where it would have been impossible to pass a cart coming from the opposite direction. In such places, therefore, one of our drivers went on in front shouting to keep the road clear. Fortunately we were in the company of other carts. When two carts meet where the road is narrow, it is customary for the smaller one to back and leave the road open for the larger.
We set out just after midnight, and drove on till noon. In spite of furs and rugs I was almost frozen through. Islam preferred to go on foot, and the drivers who ran beside the wagons also managed to keep themselves warm.
At break of day on December 10 we came to the bank of a stream which falls into the Yellow River (Hwang-ho). It was frozen quite across, and a path of sand showed where the route crossed the river. Our companions were to go over first in one of their carts with a team of three horses. They dashed at full gallop out on to the ice, but had not gone far before a wheel cut through the ice and the cart was held fast as in a vice. The whole load had to be taken out and carried over to the farther bank, and after much trouble the empty cart was hoisted up.
At a broader place the men cut up the thin ice in the middle of the bed where the water was three feet deep, and when another cart tried its luck it pitched suddenly down into the opening and remained fast. Two additional horses were attached, and all the men shouted and cracked their whips. The horses reared, fell, were nearly drowned under the ice, threw themselves about and jumped up on to the ice, only to drop back again into the hole. A young Chinaman then threw off every stitch of clothing and went into the water, 18° below freezing-point, to pull away the pieces of ice and stones which held back the wheels. I cannot tell how it was that he was not frozen to death. He afterwards warmed himself at a fire made by Islam Bay. We struggled for four hours before at last the irritating river was behind us.
In Liang-chau, a town of 100,000 inhabitants, with a quadrangular wall, handsome gates, and broad, busy streets, we stayed with some missionaries. Here we had to wait twelve whole days before we could procure nine camels and two men who were willing to take us to the town Ning-hsia on the Yellow River, nearly 300 miles off. The missionaries had no other guest-room than their chapel, which was rather cold; on Christmas Eve the temperature inside was 3°.
For twenty days we travelled through a country called Ala-shan, which for the most part is inhabited by Mongols. We followed a desert track and encamped at wells. Certain belts were buried in drift sand which formed wave-like dunes. Here we were outside China proper and the Great Wall, but we frequently met Chinese caravans. Two horsemen had been assigned to me as an escort by the last Chinese governor, for the country is unsafe owing to robbers. All, however, went well, and we came safely to Ning-hsia on the Yellow River.
