The travellers now entered the green valley of Kon-tchang, through the leafy shades of which tumbles a sparkling, noisy stream, while on either hand rise venerable trees, with trunks bent and contorted as if by some sudden convulsion. Thence they ascended to Mong-kou by a difficult road, winding round the precipitous flank of a wind-swept height, the summit of which, some twelve thousand feet above the sea, was capped with snow. Wild and romantic was the character of the scenery, reminding the travellers of that of Switzerland. At intervals the expedition met with a check to its progress from the jealousy of the Chinese officials, but resolution and tact overcame every obstacle. Through the broad valley of Tong-chuen they debouched on a small but well-cultivated plain, where the solid embankment of the bed of a torrent formed a kind of causeway, raised seven to ten feet above the surrounding level. From the sides of this elevated dyke issue numerous canals, which distribute the fertilizing waters of the stream over all the thirsty fields. Here, as in many other districts of China, the patient industry of the labourer has transformed a devastating force into a fountain of wealth and fecundity. A WELL-CULTIVATED DISTRICT. The aspect of the plain is very grateful to the eye. Yellow clusters of the colza mingle with the white or purple corollas of the poppies. From the ridge which terminates it is visible a deep cleft in the barrier of mountains that stretches far along the horizon. This is the valley of the Blue River, locally known as the Kin-cha-kiang, or “River of the Golden Sand.”
Our explorers came upon this river on the 31st of January. It rolled its clear deep waters in a ravine two thousand feet below them. Their route, however, still lay along the mountain-sides, and they suffered severely from the rigour of the cold and the heavy storms of snow which beat continually upon their devoted heads. On the 3rd of February they crossed the most elevated point they had reached in all their wanderings,—the barometer indicating an elevation of nearly ten thousand feet. Then they began to descend, each stage opening up to their enraptured gaze a succession of glorious mountain-views, relieved by occasional glimpses of finely wooded valleys, and of bright streams that leaped and bounded in their haste to join the great river of the plains. As they descended the temperature necessarily grew warmer, and out of the inclemencies of winter they rapidly passed into the genial airs of spring.
CROSSING A RAVINE.
LAKE OF TALY.
On the 29th of February, from the summit of the col which forms the little valley of Kuang-tsa-pin, they discovered the lake of Taly, one of the finest and grandest pictures which had excited their admiration since they entered on their expedition. The background consists of a lofty chain of snow-capped mountains, at the foot of which the blue waters of the lake break up the plain into a maze of low promontories covered with gardens and villages. A short descent brought them to the borders of the lake, which they passed to the northward in order to reach its eastern shore. The many villages through which they took their way exhibited the cruellest traces of devastation. Only the cultivated fields seem to have been spared, and these presented a flourishing appearance. FORTRESS OF HIANG-KUAN. In due time they arrived before the gates of the fortress of Hiang-kuan; which, erected at the very base of the mountain, and on the margin of the lake, completely barred the passage. There they learned from the mandarin in charge, that he would not allow them to continue their journey, until permission had been obtained from the sultan of Taly. This reached them on the following day; and, on the 2nd of March, the journey was resumed. They passed through Hiang-kuan, the walls of which bathe on the one side their feet in the waters of the lake, and on the other ascend the flanks of the mountain, which forms a tremendous precipice, rendering the defile very easy of defence.
Beyond, the shore of the lake again expanded into a magnificent plain, in the centre of which is situated the city of Taly. At the southern extremity of the lake the mountains again close in upon its waters; and this second defile is commanded by another fortress—that of Hia-kuan. Hia-kuan and Hiang-kuan, surrounded by massive crenelated ramparts, are the two gates of Taly. Defended by brave men they would be impregnable, and render access to the city impossible except by water.
A DISAGREEABLE INCIDENT.
A great paved causeway crosses the plain of Hiang-kuan to Taly. Escorted by ten soldiers, the French travellers entered the latter city by its north gate. In a few moments an immense crowd gathered in their rear, and lined each side of the great street which traverses Taly from north to south. Having arrived in front of the sultan’s palace—a crenelated building of sombre and severe aspect—they halted to parley with a couple of mandarins who had been sent to meet them. During this vexatious pause they were surrounded and pressed upon by the crowd, and a soldier violently snatched off the hat of one of the strangers—probably in order that the sultan, who was regarding them from an upper balcony, might the better see his face. This insolence was punished immediately by a blow which drew blood from the aggressor’s countenance, and gave rise to an indescribable tumult. The interposition of the two mandarins, the resolute attitude of the Annamites, who grouped themselves around the French travellers, and unsheathed their sword-bayonets, arrested, however, the hostile demonstrations of the crowd, and they reached without further contretemps the yamen assigned to them for a residence, situated at the southern extremity of the town.