I take my turn at leading our procession of mule litters and let my companions swallow its dust for a while
The road down into Shensi. Once through the great arch-gate that marks the provincial boundary, the road sinks down into the loess again, and beggars line the way into Tungkwan
Hwa-shan, one of the five sacred mountains of China
An example of Chinese military transportation
However, we were by no means confined to the bottoms of the cañons. A mule-litter, we quickly discovered, resembles many another contrivance in this imperfect world, in that it has both its advantages and its drawbacks. Shaped like a bath-tub, it might perhaps be quite cozy could one merely make it up as a bed and crawl into it. But when it is already half filled with such odds and ends as steamer-trunks and bedding-rolls, there is only a limited space left for the mere passenger. Moreover, the straw mattings are neither sun- nor dust-proof, and while one may in time and with patience learn either to sleep or to read in a litter, in spite of the camel-like motion varied by a sudden disconcerting lurch every quarter-hour or so, when the plodding driver outside concludes that the poles need leveling on one or the other mule, the average traveler is more apt to pass his time drowsily gazing at the plethora of red pompons and trappings on his lead-mule and listening to the monotonous tinkling of his bell. Litter-riding is an art that must be learned. As the rolling motion is prone quickly to unbalance the contrivance, proper bestowal of the body is closely akin to tight-rope walking. If one be of a restless disposition and accustomed to change the lower leg for the upper at certain intervals, one must not let the attention grow drowsy; if one persists in the reprehensible habit of smoking, then in laying down the pipe in the right hand great care must be exercised that the can of tobacco be at the same instant deposited with the left, lest the excess of weight prove fatal. In all our journey my own litter turned over upon me but once, and that was in an inn-yard where assistance was at hand to drag me out from under the trunks, cots, suit-cases, and what not under which the mishap buried me; but if there were ten consecutive minutes when I did not expect it to do so, they were probably during the many times that I was not inside it. We met in the west foreigners of long Chinese experience who did all their traveling in litters, some indeed who lined and carpeted theirs with felt, put a stove inside, and journeyed for weeks at a time, even in the depths of winter, reading many volumes during the journey. But while we are quite ready to admit without controversy the comfort of a mule-litter as compared with a “Peking cart,” I for one found the finest thing about it the fact that one could get out and walk.
This we did early and often, and thereby frequently kept out of the dust-swirling cañons entirely for long stretches. For the constant procession of coolies plodding up and down this route had worn at least one, and often as many as half a dozen, hard smooth paths along the brink of the chasm, paths undulating and meandering just enough to be delightful. From them we could look far down the sheer cliffs, seldom fifteen feet apart, upon the endless mule-trains, broken here and there by cumbersome two-wheeled carts, ox or horse drawn, or by a disdainfully leisurely string of camels, all so tiny with the depth sometimes that they seemed a procession of children’s toys. At the same time we enjoyed a brilliant sunshine—often too brilliant, in fact, though October was all but gone—now and then a delicious breeze, and views of the life of the region and landscapes frequently approaching the magnificent, all of which were unknown to the man who was drowsing or attempting to read in his litter far below. The average speed of our conveyances, though they were the swiftest things in the defiles, was scarcely equal to a reasonable walking pace, so that we could here and there wander a bit from the straight and narrow paths for a glimpse of something that seemed worth the deviation.