THROUGH THE WEST OF KUEI-CHOW TO THE YANG-TSZE.

Having in a previous chapter described the country between Kuei-yang Fu and the capital of YÜn-nan, I need offer no apology for requesting my reader to accompany me once more into the plain of Chan-i Chou, now yellow with golden wheat, and thus obviate the necessity of describing another weary ride over the red uplands of Eastern YÜn-nan. Yet I would fain impart that confidence which was placed in me by some scholars who were my companions during these five stages; and, to this end, I must first say a few words on the subject of competitive examinations in China.

With few exceptions, these examinations are open to any candidate who thinks he possesses sufficient ability to pass. The lowest degree is that of licentiate, and the examination takes place at the capital of the prefecture within which the candidate’s district happens to be. The next degree is that of provincial graduate, the examination for which is also triennial, and is held in the capital of the province. The candidates for this second degree are mostly those who have taken the degree of licentiate in open competition. The competition for the highest degree, that of metropolitan graduate, takes place at Peking in the year following the examinations for provincial graduates throughout the Empire, to whom alone it is open. Success in this final examination is always a certain stepping-stone to official employment. I speak of the civil, not of the military service. To provincial graduates proceeding to compete at the metropolis, passes are issued on application, and these, pasted on their cases, exempt their baggage from examination and taxation en route. This is no small matter, for a graduate’s effects usually consist of some of the products or manufactures of his province, for which he can find a ready market in Peking. My companions were three in number, and they were jointly interested in a caravan of seventeen pack-animals laden with protected cases, which they unhesitatingly told me contained opium and marble from Ta-li. It would be a consideration to many a Scotch student if, in going up to London to compete in the Civil Service Examinations, they were allowed to carry with them as baggage a few kegs of duty-free whiskey!

In parts of the Chan-i plain, which we entered on the afternoon of the 22nd of May, some little anxiety was being manifested as to the supply of water for irrigation purposes. At one spot we found the high-road dammed, and my followers had to doff their nether garments before they could get through. The luckless peasants did not escape considerable abuse. “How dare you,” rose the angry shouts, “turn the roads into reservoirs?” A low undulating plateau, only partly cultivated, succeeds the plain to the north-east. The few villages dotted about were partly concealed in groves of walnut trees, and the encircling crops of oats, potatoes, beans, buckwheat, Indian corn, wheat, and poppy were decidedly inferior. What else could be expected of a light clay soil? There was one redeeming feature about this plateau, however, which should not be passed over. The roads were available for cart-traffic. Would our quarters be sufficiently comfortable to detain us over the 24th of May? was the question that occupied my mind as I rode into the village of Lai-yuan-p’u on the evening of the 23rd, drenched to the skin, and far in advance of my followers. We had been overtaken in the open by a tremendous rain-storm, and I left the caravan and pushed on for shelter. I immediately selected the loft as my share of the inn, and everything promised well until my men turned up, when a fire had to be lit to dry their clothes and cook our food. It was only then that I discovered that the smoke had no outlet except through the loft, that I had, in fact, taken up my quarters in the chimney of the inn. The loft had to be abandoned for a mud cell on the ground floor, and the morrow’s holiday had to be dispensed with.

To the north of Lai-yuan-p’u the road passes through a short barrier of rocky heights, and enters a small plain containing a village and a lakelet to the north-east of it. To this succeeds an undulating, all but uncultivated, rain-washed plateau, where the road was in many places swept away—deep nullahs showing the direction the torrents had taken. This plateau was not altogether without value, for it contained numerous wells or pits whence coloured clays for the manufacture of earthenware were being extracted.

Here the people were of a very inquisitive turn of mind. To have to take one’s meals in a chair is bad enough—infinitely preferable, nevertheless, to a smoky, dirty, mud cell; but to be surrounded by a mob of gaping men, women, and children, watching every mouthful, does not tend to the preservation of temper, and it required all the banter I could command to make even a temporary impression and keep the peace. This was our experience a few miles to the south of HsÜan-wei Chou, the last city through which we had to pass before entering the province of Kuei-chow.

This city, which is of very little importance, lies on the left bank of a stream flowing south-east to swell the West River, and not the Yang-tsze, as some map-makers would try to make us believe. Coal and iron are both found in the neighbourhood, and a coolie, with a load of the latter on his back, asked us whether it was the case, as he had heard, that the Governor-General of YÜn-nan and Kuei-chow was in want of all the available metal for the manufacture of guns. I regretted my inability to satisfy the curiosity of this would-be trader. Lime is also found and was being extensively used as manure.

T’ang-t’ang, the terminus of the first stage from and to the north-east of HsÜan-wei, is approached through a series of narrow valleys separated by precipitous hills. It lies on a hill-side near the meeting of two streams. How well I remember the miserable village! Travellers, beware of T’ang-t’ang! Its bugs were ravenous, and a sorry figure we all cut next day as we hurried to the Kuei-chow frontier.

From T’ang-t’ang the road ascends northwards to the hamlet of Mu-kua-shao, whence commences a steep descent to a narrow valley which leads to the K’o-tu River flowing east. On the way down, we passed through the hamlet of Shui-t’ang-p’u, insignificant in itself, but destined at some future time to be of greater importance.

A few hundred yards to the south-east of the hamlet there is a silver mine, which may some day prove productive. The owners bewailed to me their inability to make the mine do more than pay the expenses of working. Yet what could be expected from the ordinary Chinese furnace which was employed to smelt the ore?

Although a narrow strip of land on the north bank of the river is within the jurisdiction of YÜn-nan, the K’o-tu may, for all practical purposes, be considered the boundary at this point of the YÜn-nan and Kuei-chow provinces.

A plaited bamboo rope was stretched across the river—about sixty feet broad—and used by the ferrymen for hauling their boat backwards and forwards. High cliffs, up which the road zigzags, form the north bank and tower above the river. This borderland is very rich in metals; silver, as I have just said, is found to the south of the river, and to the immediate north copper and lead are both worked. The copper reefs would appear to run right across Southern Ssu-ch’uan and north-eastern YÜn-nan into the west of Kuei-chow.

Wei-ning Chou, the first city within the Kuei-chow borders, is picturesquely situated on rising ground, a few hundred yards from the northern margin of the eastern portion of a large lake, which, like the smaller basins a few miles to the north, would appear to have no outlet. The same phenomenon, if it may be called a phenomenon, is observable in the Chao-t’ung plain in north-eastern YÜn-nan. We have already seen, however, that underground rivers are very common in Kuei-chow and YÜn-nan, and it is not impossible that the surplus waters of the lake may find their way by underground channels into the head-waters of the K’o-tu River, which is over a thousand feet below the level of the Wei-ning plain. To reach the city we skirted the eastern shore of the lake, crossing a small three-arched stone bridge which spans a rivulet draining a valley to the south-east and entering the lake. To the north-east of Wei-ning, the paved road, which runs through small basins full of coal, was in such an excellent state of repair that our animals fought shy of it, preferring the rough grassy ground through which it passes. Here we found ourselves again among Miao-tzu, busy tilling their fields. The women were as usual clad in their native dress, while the men wore coarse hempen clothes in Chinese style.

Twenty miles north of Wei-ning, the road goes east for four days through rough mountainous country to the busy city of Pi-chieh Hsien, on the left bank of a tributary of the Wu Chiang, and nearly 5000 feet above the level of the sea. Twenty-five miles to the east of the city is the second depression of any importance on the road from YÜn-nan Fu to the Yang-tsze. This depression forms the bed of the Ch’i-hsing River, one of the two main branches of the Wu Chiang, and is little more than four thousand feet above the level of the sea. The river is crossed by a stone bridge of two arches, with spans of eighteen and fifteen yards respectively, with a centre pier five yards broad, so that the total breadth of the Ch’i-hsing at this point is thirty-eight yards. The bridge is roofed and adorned with three pavilions, one at either end and one on the centre pier. Although the wooden floor is thirty feet above the river, I was told that it was by no means safe during floods, and that the water frequently swept over it. Fifty yards to the north of the present structure are the two piers of a former stone bridge, which came to grief during a flood. Pi-chieh is a great depÔt for Ssu-ch’uan salt, which finds its way to Western Kuei-chow by the Yung-ning River as far as Yung-ning Hsien, and thence overland by pack animals and carriers. In Pi-chieh I saw a quantity of that famous tough paper which is manufactured in the province of Kuei-chow, and which is wrongly called “leather” paper. The mistake is pardonable, for the character which means “leather” also means “bark;” and the paper is made from the fibrous inner bark of the Broussonetia papyrifera, Vent.

There is considerable romance in the names which the Chinese apply to their cities and villages. At the end of the first stage from Pi-chieh is the village of Chin-yin-shan, the characters for which, literally translated, mean “Gold-silver-mountain.” True, the street occupies the face of a hill; but the precious metals, to judge from the surroundings, were conspicuous by their absence.

It not unfrequently happens, however, that the name is in strict accordance with actual facts. On our second stage from Wei-ning Chou we passed through a village called T’ien-ch’iao, or T’ien-shÊng-ch’iao—“Heaven’s Bridge,” “Heaven-born Bridge,” or “Natural Bridge”—which is really built on the top of a limestone cavern through which a stream has pushed its way. Some twenty years ago this latter village was the scene of a dreadful catastrophe. Gold and silver, so runs the story, were both found in a mountain a little to the east of the high-road, and one day, when the miners were all at work, the tunnelling collapsed and buried every soul. Since that time all attempts to find the ore have failed.

Squalid though the villages were, evident signs of improvement were manifesting themselves, and the following proclamation, which had lately been issued by the Financial Commissioner of the province of YÜn-nan, and which was widely posted along the whole route, may have accounted for the unwonted energy which we observed:—“The copper, which the mines in YÜn-nan are bound to supply annually for use in Peking, was in former years conveyed to Lu Chou for export, and at that time there was a flourishing trade along the route. Within recent years the sea route has been attempted, with the result that this trade has dwindled into insignificance. The Board of Revenue has now decided that the copper shall be carried by the old route, so that people and traders of YÜn-nan and Kuei-chow may look forward to more prosperous times. The copper from the prefectures of Tung-ch’uan and Chao-t’ung will go to HsÜ-chou Fu [Sui Fu], and from the district of K’un-ming [within which the capital of YÜn-nan lies] to HsÜ-yung T’ing [the highest navigable point on the Yung-ning River, which enters the Yang-tsze to the west of Lu Chou]. On these two important routes, by which the copper is to be conveyed into Ssu-ch’uan, make all haste to open hostelries for the accommodation of these consignments of copper and their carriers. This will cause a development of trade generally, and traders and people along these roads may depend on a profitable business.”

In many places to the north of Pi-chieh the high-road reminded me of a country lane at home. It was frequently hedged with dense bushes of sweetbriar and hawthorn laden with blossom, and had it not been for the universal poppy, the resemblance would have been far more complete.

The 6th of June was a day of great excitement amongst my followers, as we were to cross the Kuei-chow frontier and rest for the night within the Ssu-ch’uan border. A dense mist obscured everything at the start, and it was not till the great event of the day—the descent to the Ch’ih-shui River—began, that we were enabled to get a view of the country that lay before us. The village of Kao-shan-p’u stands on the southern rim of the third great depression between YÜn-nan Fu and the Yang-tsze. Beyond the deep defile lies the HsÜeh-shan range running east and west, over 5000 feet above the level of the sea and at least a thousand feet higher than the southern rim. Up its face zigzags the narrow stone road, visible almost to the summit of the range. Down from the southern rim runs the roadway for a distance of ten li—equal to nearly three miles—to the right bank of the river flowing swiftly eastward. The river, which is eighty yards broad, is about two thousand feet above the level of the sea, and, as it enters the Yang-tsze at the city Ho-chiang Hsien ninety-five miles to the south-west of Ch’ung-k’ing, it is not navigable in its upper waters, there being a fall of about thirteen hundred feet. Few facilities are provided for the passage of the immense traffic which exists between the province of Ssu-ch’uan and the provinces of Kuei-chow and YÜn-nan; a couple of ferry-boats, each sixty feet long, and capable of carrying ten pack-animals and their drivers, afford the only means of crossing.

The white-washed houses of the village of Ch’ih-shui HsÜn or Ho-pei HsÜn, as it is also called, on the north bank straggle from the mountain foot a short distance up, and here we found shelter for the night. Next morning, we ascended by a series of steps for a distance of twenty-five li—nearly eight miles—to a solitary temple crowning a ridge which the road surmounts.

If I assume—and it is no great assumption—that the river forms the apex of a right-angled triangle with sides three and eight miles long respectively, a simple mathematical calculation will give the distance in a straight line from rim to rim. Now, this is the route by which it has been proposed to carry a railway from Burmah through the Shan States and YÜn-nan to Ssu-ch’uan, and, granting that the necessary permission could be obtained, who will undertake to bridge the chasm and who will pay the piper?

The descent of the HsÜeh-shan on the north side is very precipitous, the road winding downwards to the hamlet and coal mines of Lan-ma-lu, where a somewhat curious spectacle attracted my attention. Seated near the mouth of one of the two tunnels was a begrimed and dirty miner clad in the garb of Eden prior to the Fall, and in his hands clasping a tiny red flower, which he was caressingly applying from time to time to his olfactory organ. Here, surely, was a case in which a man was to be judged not by his exterior, but by his inclinations and actions.

It was on the following day, when we were making our way through the ridges which bar the path to the north of the HsÜeh-shan, that we came up with a refractory roadside deity. His tongue, which slightly protruded, had been lavishly smeared with opium, and, as might naturally be supposed, he appeared to object strongly to the drug in its crude form, for it had trickled down and disfigured his neck and breast!

From the market-town of Mo-ni-ch’ang, our resting place for the night after the passage of the HsÜeh-shan, the road runs northwards for two days through valleys and hilly country to the Yung-ning River and the city of Yung-ning Hsien, from which the river derives its name. In one or two of the valleys there was no natural outlet for the streams to which the encircling hills gave birth, and exits had been cut through the solid rocky heights. Yung-ning Hsien and HsÜ-yung T’ing occupy the right and left banks of the river respectively, a stone bridge connecting the two cities. Here we found ourselves in the centre of bustle and business, and, what delighted us more than anything else, in direct water communication with the Yang-tsze and Ch’ung-k’ing. Our overland journeying was, for the present, at an end.

In Chapter IV., I referred to the HÊng River and described our descent of the Nan-kuang River, which is blocked near its entrance to the Yang-tsze by a rocky reef barring navigation. On reaching the district city on the 9th of June, I immediately proceeded to make arrangements for our conveyance to Lu Chou, a great trade centre on the north bank of the Yang-tsze, a few miles to the east of its junction with the Yung-ning. I had little difficulty in engaging for a small sum a boat which had just discharged its cargo of salt and was about to descend. It lay with a number of others of the same class under the walls of the city, and on the morning of the 10th of June we embarked, leaving our animals to be walked overland to Ch’ung-k’ing in charge of the horse-boy. Although our boat, which was narrow and about fifty feet in length, drew little water, we had no sooner got her bows down stream than she grounded in mid-river, necessitating several of the crew jumping overboard and pushing her off the shallows.

For some miles north of Yung-ning Hsien the river retains its breadth of fifty yards, flowing between low hills which were well cultivated. These give place to a rocky country, huge boulders lining the banks and encroaching on the river’s bed to such an extent as to leave only sufficient breadth for one boat to pass. This cooping-up of the waters and declivity in the bed give rise to a series of rapids, two of which are really dangerous. In this, what may be called, mid-section of the river, oars were abandoned (there not being room to use them), and the navigation was conducted by means of a long spar which projected over the bows, and had often as many as six of the crew hanging on to its butt end. At one of the dangerous rapids we narrowly escaped being dashed to pieces. The boat was rushing down at full speed through huge boulders to a four foot fall, when the bow spar snapped in two, the projecting part falling into the river, the butt end rolling on deck and the crew sprawling over and under it. Amid their frantic yells the steersman, fortunately, did not lose his head, and succeeded in bringing us up alongside the rocks just above the fall. We were now perfectly helpless, and the greater part of the afternoon of the 11th was spent by the skipper in visiting adjacent villages in search of a new spar. He was at length successful, and over the fall we went, the planks of the boat quivering under us.

To the north of the rocky section the country opens out, gently undulating and cultivated; the sloping banks of the river, which here attains a breadth of a hundred yards, were fringed with feathery bamboos, the current became actually sluggish, and trackers were sent on shore to expedite the descent. The Yung-ning loses itself peacefully in the Yang-tsze at the district city of Na-ch’i Hsien, which lies on the right bank of both rivers. Under the busy market-town of Lien-ch’ien-tzu, which occupies the bend opposite Na-ch’i, lay a fleet of about fifty salt junks ready to ascend to Yung-ning Hsien. They were summoning their crews by beat of gong, when we issued from the river on the morning of the 12th of June.

I must not leave the Yung-ning River without saying a few words as to its importance as a trade route. By it, Western Kuei-chow is supplied with salt from Ssu-ch’uan, principally from the Tzu-liu-ching wells, and it is the main thoroughfare for the distribution of native cottons, manufactured in Ssu-ch’uan from raw cotton from the Central Provinces of China, required by Western Kuei-chow and Eastern YÜn-nan. Foreign cottons go as far as Sui Fu, and thence by way of the HÊng and Nan-kuang Rivers to Northern and Eastern YÜn-nan.

At noon we lay under the walls of Lu Chou, and soon found a comfortable passenger boat, into which I forthwith transhipped all my followers, and early next morning we were off. The swollen waters of the Yang-tsze carried us swiftly eastward, and, on the afternoon of the 14th of June, we moored under the southern wall of Ch’ung-k’ing, after an absence of one hundred and twenty-four days.