When our caravan, after three days of fatiguing march across the rough stony land I have mentioned, reached the Great Wall of China, it was about six in the morning on the 29th of April. The sun appeared on the horizon, and we could distinguish a series of hills stretching far away into the interior, with the intervening spaces veiled in cloud. We could see these undulations of the Celestial Empire to advantage at the great elevation we had arrived at, and we sat down some time admiring the magnificent spectacle.
My attention was struck immediately by the remarkable difference between the country we had just travelled over and the one we were about to enter. Behind me was a wild uncultivated waste, and before me extended that famous fertile land that bestows annually on its people two crops of corn or rice, and two crops of vegetables. On one side it was an unpeopled desert, and on the other a swarming of human beings numbering probably more than four hundred millions, and whose assemblage of four hundred thousand even constitutes but a village among its populous cities. But a little while ago it was everywhere bleak and barren, and for the future it will be sunshine over rich verdant lands. Thus much for the most striking advantages on the side of China, to which may be opposed others on the side of Mongolia. The air of Mongolia was pure and invigorating; that of China will be nauseating and unhealthy. The soil was covered with a sand so coarse that the most violent winds were unable to raise it: the soil in future will be composed of a dust so fine that the least breeze will lift it in clouds, impeding the sight and respiration. The Mongols were hospitable; the Chinese will be hostile; the mere circumstance of being there constitutes an offence in their eyes, and one they would punish if they dared. It would be difficult to find two neighbouring countries more dissimilar than China and Mongolia in the nature of the soil and in the character of the inhabitants. The Great Wall, which has separated them in the past, does not seem by its ruin to bring them nearer to one another in the future. If I were asked which of these two peoples I prefer, though it is difficult to compare a civilized with a savage race, I should reply: “The Mongol is superior to the Chinese in honesty and disposition; but the latter to the Mongol in talent and ingenuity in the arts.”
We descended on foot the zig-zags that lead from the Great Wall to Kalkann. The natives formed in two rows to see us pass. They came from all parts, even from underground; for they live in caves like the caverns of Touraine, which they have scooped out of the rock in the side of the mountain. The women with their little feet walk with difficulty, and holding a child by one hand make use of the other as a balancing pole to maintain their equilibrium. M. Schévélof got into a rage two or three times with these people, who pressed in around and would not get out of the way to let us pass, and yet we were only in the rural part. Five hours after passing the Great Wall we came to the bottom of the valley, which narrows here almost to a gorge. The aspect of the country is picturesque. A little rivulet, which occasionally swells out in width to fill the whole valley, meanders along, sometimes at the foot of an enormous rock, sometimes lost in a thicket of verdure. Everything is pretty and graceful, but strange in form and arrangement. I recognised here the models of Chinese landscapes I have seen in France, and which I had always taken to be imaginary compositions. Thus in the midst of this valley, formed between two great hills of majestic dark rocks, rises abruptly a pointed granite mound, on the top of which is built a temple: a little further, an enormous red rock is suspended, in a manner incomprehensible, on the apex of a cone of earth. The whole of this singular bit of nature is variegated and enlivened by trees, irregularly disposed here and there, freshly decked in their vernal dress.
If the reader will picture to his fancy this landscape, peopled with men of effeminate look with long pig-tails, and women with painted faces presenting the appearance of wax figures, he will form some idea of the country we traversed in descending from the Great Wall of China.
CHAPTER XX.
FROM THE GREAT WALL TO TCHAH-TAO.
First view of China proper—Last Russian hospitality—The Palankeen—The streets of Kalkann—Travelling along the Great Wall—The Secret Societies—Chinese Art—How order is maintained—Origin of the tress—How the titles of Chinese nobility become extinct.
We were hospitably received in a Chinese house belonging to a Russian, a friend of M. Schévélof. This house was charmingly situated out of the town, on the other side of the brook I have just mentioned, and, consequently, in view of the mountain we had lately descended surmounted with the irregular outline of the Great Wall.
It was the last Russian house into which I entered, and not the least agreeable. During my leisure in the day I went to ramble about this strange country and among the still more strange people.