ON THE PEI-HO.
The autumn rains had so flooded the low-lying country between the capital and its seaport, Tientsin, that we were obliged to abandon the idea of continuing to the coast on the wheels, which by this time were in no condition to stand unusual strain. On the other hand the house-boat journey of thirty-six hours down the Pei-ho river was a rather pleasant diversion.
Our first evening on the river was made memorable by an unusual event. Suddenly the rattling of tin pans, the [pg 218]tooting of horns, and the shouting of men, women, and children, aroused us to the realization that something extraordinary was occurring. Then we noticed that the full moon in a cloudless sky had already passed the half-way mark in a total eclipse. Our boatmen now joined in the general uproar, which reached its height when the moon was entirely obscured. In explanation we were told that the “Great Dragon” was endeavoring to swallow up the moon, and that the loudest possible noise must be made to frighten him away. Shouts hailed the reappearance of the moon. Although our boatmen had a smattering of pidjin, or business, English, we were unable to get a very clear idea of Chinese astronomy. In journeying across the empire we found sufficient analogy in the various provincial dialects to enable us to acquire a smattering of one from another as we proceeded, but we were [pg 219]now unable to see any similarity whatever between “You makee walkee look see,” and “You go and see,” or between “That belong number one pidjin,” and “That is a first-class business.” This jargon has become a distinct dialect on the Chinese coast.
A CHINAMAN SCULLING ON THE PEI-HO.
On our arrival in Tientsin we called upon the United States Consul, Colonel Bowman, to whom we had brought several letters from friends in Peking. During a supper at his hospitable home, he suggested that the viceroy might be pleased to receive us, and that if we had no objection, he would send a communication to the yamen, or official residence. Colonel Bowman’s secretary, Mr. Tenney, who had been some time the instructor of the viceroy’s sons, and who was on rather intimate terms with the viceroy himself, kindly offered to act as interpreter. A favorable answer was received the next morning, and the time for our visit fixed for the afternoon of the day following. But two hours before the appointed time a message was received from the viceroy, stating that he was about to receive an unexpected official visit from the phantai, or treasurer, of the Pe-chili province (over which Li-Hung-Chang himself is viceroy), and asking for a postponement of our visit to the following morning at 11 o’clock. Even before we had finished reading this unexpected message, the booming of cannon along the Pei-ho river announced the arrival of the phantai’s boats before the city. The postponement of our engagement at this late hour threatened to prove rather awkward, inasmuch as we had already purchased our steamship tickets for Shanghai, to sail on the Fei-ching at five o’clock the next morning. But through the kindness of the steamship company it was arranged that we should take a tug-boat at Tong-ku, on the line of the Kai-ping railroad, and overtake the steamer outside the Taku bar. This we could [pg 220]do by taking the train at Tientsin, even as late as seven hours after the departure of the steamer. Steam navigation in the Pei-ho river, over the forty or fifty miles’ stretch from Tientsin to the gulf, is rendered very slow by the sharp turns in the narrow stream—the adjoining banks being frequently struck and plowed away by the bow or stern of the large ocean steamers.
When we entered the consulate the next morning, we found three palanquins and a dozen coolies in waiting to convey our party to the viceroy’s residence. Under other circumstances we would have patronized our “steeds of steel,” but a visit to the “biggest” man in China had to be conducted in state. We were even in some doubt as to the propriety of appearing before his excellency in bicycle costume; but we determined to plead our inability to carry luggage as an excuse for this breach of etiquette.
SALT HEAPS AT THE GOVERNMENT WORKS AT TONG-KU.
The first peculiarity the Chinese notice in a foreigner is his dress. It is a requisite with them that the clothes [pg 221]must be loose, and so draped as to conceal the contour of the body. The short sack-coat and tight trousers of the foreigner are looked upon as certainly inelegant, if not actually indecent.