A TRUCULENT INNKEEPER—A SEDAN CHAIR—CHINESE WOMEN AND THEIR FEET—PEKIN—DEPARTURE OF RIJNHART—CARTERS EARN A BEATING.

As we descended we passed several small shrines and numerous inscriptions cut in the face of the rock, many of which were in ancient Tibetan characters, but more remarkable than these was a large figure of Sakya Muni, cut on a rock, which stands in a very conspicuous position high above the road.

Rijnhart and Malcolm climbed by a steep staircase to a small shrine, some eighty feet above the road; but although it was evidently very old, they found nothing more remarkable than the names of several Russians and a few Englishmen who had been there in previous years, among others being Grey, Walker, and Allen, 1868 and 1879. We did not add our own to the list.

Still descending, we passed under several arches, which looked as though they had at some time been gates of different fortified camps, and then came to a magnificent Buddhist arch covered with carvings and representations of Buddha; this must be a great age, and is one of the most interesting relics in Northern China. A short way further on we came to the village of Nan Kou (southern valley), where visitors to the Great Wall almost always stop the night after leaving Pekin. Knowing this, we were quite prepared to pay more than usual for our accommodation, but the demands with which we were met far exceeded our expectations. In the first place, we could get no fire on which to cook our own food, but must take what the inn provided; then our servants could not cook their food; and lastly, we must pay for everything over-night, and not wait till the morning, as had been our invariable custom. Eventually these little difficulties were settled, but not until our landlord had worked himself up into a towering passion, such as only a Chinaman can, and had stamped up and down the room like a mad man.

Now came the great question. We were prepared to settle over-night. But how much were we to pay? "A Chinaman always pays a thousand cash for this room. What are you going to give me?" said Mr. Khe, the innkeeper. "Three hundred cash," we replied, now thoroughly annoyed, and with our liberal intentions all forgotten. "Well, what about the servants?" was his answer. "They are included," was all the reply he got. Never have I seen a man change his demeanour as our friend now did. From the bullying tone he had previously adopted he became quite cringing, and, seeing that we knew the exact amount to which he was entitled, and that we were determined to pay no more, quietly said, "Very well, give me the money," which we did, explaining that but for his insolent behaviour we should have given him about double. This had a most salutary effect on his servants, so that next morning they were all running about with hot water for our tea, and doing other little services, which were rewarded with extra wine money. I was amused to hear later that every one who stays in this inn has a row with the landlord, but it is not every one who gets out of it as well as we did.

Next morning we made a very early start, hoping to reach the capital and get our letters in good time. It was now more than six months since we had heard from home, and we were, naturally, a little anxious as to what news might be awaiting us. For some days the traffic had been rapidly increasing. All night one could hear the camel bells ringing as they passed our inns,[19] while all day we passed string after string of pack mules and carts. But to-day far surpassed everything we had yet seen. In one hour, just before daybreak, Rijnhart and I counted no less than 765 camels, all carrying tea, sugar, and oil to the interior, while those travelling east were mostly laden with wool.

Just below Nan Kou the road, which for the last few days had lain through rocky mountains, debouched on the wide "Plain of Pe Chili," in which lies Pekin, and where are also the famous "Tombs of the Emperors." As we neared the great city we crossed some fine stone bridges, which must have been quite wonders when originally built in the days of long ago, but, as little care is now taken about keeping them in order, the roadways are very rough. Here it was that we got our best opportunity of studying the crowd that was hurrying to the capital, all bent on business or pleasure.

First and foremost in interest was an important Mongolian prince, decorated with the dark red button and surrounded by an escort whose faces plainly told their nationality. From one of them we learnt that their chief had been hastily summoned into the presence of the Emperor, and was travelling with all possible speed. Just behind his sedan chair came a coffin with its inevitable accompanying rooster, while, indifferent alike to the living prince or the dead commoner, a mass of jostling, bustling humanity, neat little private mule carts, rougher hired ones, country waggons, and people on foot, all hurrying on and looking after themselves alone, crossed the bridge in front of us, a mass of colour and Chinese life worth going a long way to see.

Here, too, for the first time, we saw Chinese women with decent sized feet. This is owing to the fact that from mixing with Manchus and other foreigners they have seen the error of their ways, and the younger generation are, to a great extent, forsaking the folly of their ancestors. The treatment necessary to produce a really neat Chinese foot, the best examples of which are to be seen in Lancheo, is absolutely barbarous. First, slits are made between the metatarsal bones to enable the toes, except the big toe, to be bent well under the sole. Then a similar cut is made in the heel, so that it can be bent to nearly meet the toes, the whole foot being tightly bound round and held in position with bandages. The unfortunate child-cripple is now left to walk about on the stumps until the agony becomes unbearable, when the foot is released till the following day. Needless to say, a free, easy gait is an impossibility, and how such deformity can be considered becoming passes all understanding. Shahzad Mir summed up the Chinese race in the words, "All the women are lame, and the men rotten with opium," by no means an unfair description.

Coming from India, the effects of opium on the people strike one perhaps more forcibly than they would do otherwise. In both countries there is a large consumption, but, instead of smoking in the Chinese fashion, the inhabitants of India either eat it or drink a decoction of it. As was shown before the Opium Commission in 1894, the good effects of the drug in India more than counterbalance the evil effects, but there can be no mistake as to its being an unmitigated curse in China, where many of its slaves would gladly give it up if they could, but the craving it induces is too strong to be combated by nature alone.

Manchu women, with their carefully dressed hair sticking out on either side of the head, and their curious shoes, were the next curiosity to attract our attention, but all these were soon dwarfed into insignificance by the appearance, in the distance, of the west gate of Pekin, but, though still early when first seen, it was three o'clock in the afternoon before we arrived in the suburb.

Here carts had to be changed, as the large country carts are not allowed into the city, and this proved to be another bone of contention between ourselves and our carters, they contending that we ought to get our own carts from the city, while we said it was part of their contract, but this little matter was soon smoothed over, and our belongings were transferred into our new conveyances.

The streets of Pekin were at first a little disappointing, the walls are in many places dilapidated, and drainage there is nil, but at the present time our thoughts were all centred on getting our letters. The drive through the city to the "Hotel de Pekin" took us three quarters of an hour. There we secured most luxurious quarters, and then rushed off to the post office. Here we heard that all our letters had been sent round to the Embassy, so off we went again, but it was not without some difficulty that we obtained admission.

Sergeant Herring,[20] who for twenty-five years has guarded the portals of the British Minister's residence, looked at us in considerable astonishment, as well he might. Never had he seen in all his experience two such disreputable looking beings. At length we allayed his suspicions, and our names were taken in to Sir Claude Macdonald, who received us with the greatest kindness, but perhaps the strangest sensation of the whole journey was still in store for us when, covered as we were with the grime of our eight months' travel, we suddenly found ourselves in Lady Macdonald's drawing-room, from which we beat a hasty retreat, but not before we had promised to bring our things—such things too—over from the hotel in the morning. We had been expected in Pekin in September, and every one had come to the conclusion that we must have returned to India by some other route, so the news of our arrival was promptly telegraphed to London.

Every hour of our short stay in Pekin passed most pleasantly. Unfortunately, the chance of getting frozen in was increasing day by day, and our time was not our own, so we were only able to enjoy a three days' stay in the place which had taken us so long to reach. Nearly all this time we spent wandering about the streets, buying curios of all sorts, but one wants a great deal longer than this to exhaust the sights of China's capital, with its three cities, one within the other, and its narrow, busy streets and bazaars. A walk round the walls and a visit to the Observatory, where the finest bronzes in the world are to be seen, were amongst the good things we missed, but somehow or other the more we got to know the streets the greater attraction they had for us, especially as at this time of year they are free from those appalling smells with which all visitors to China have made us familiar.

During our short stay we met among other Englishmen Sir Robert Hart, who has been for forty-two years in the service of the Chinese Government, with only eighteen months' leave home, and Colonel Brown, who had just come out from home by the Trans-Siberian Railway—a very pleasant but cold journey—to take up the duties of military attachÉ.

All too soon the day of our departure arrived, and the 1st December saw us again packed in Chinese carts, on the way to Tientsin, where we arrived on the night of the 2nd, our last day's travelling in China having been nearly our longest, as we covered no less than 150 li between 1 a.m. and 6.30 p.m. Greatly did we miss Rijnhart, the cheery companion of our forty days through China. His original intention had been to travel with us by sea to Shanghai, but, at the last moment, he decided to accompany a German traveller, Mr. EugÈne Wolf, overland to Hankow, so with real regret we parted from him at Pekin.

We were now without an interpreter, and at Tientsin were unable to find our way to the hotel, so lost considerable time wandering about the streets, asking futile questions from passers-by, and abusing our carters. At last things came to a climax, when one of them drove into a water cart, upsetting it with all its water into the street. Before we really knew what had happened, two of our carters were seized and marched off to the nearest police station.

We were thus left in a fine predicament. There we were in a strange place, unable to speak the language, two of our carters in prison, and the other one refusing to budge till his companions had been released. Such was our first experience of European administration in a Chinese town. There was only one course left to us. We turned carters ourselves, and as we made our way we knew not whither, we fortunately fell in with an intelligent native, who sprang up from somewhere or other, and volunteered to show us the way to an hotel. Driving ourselves, and following our friend in need, we soon arrived at the "Globe Hotel," but here again we were looked upon with the gravest suspicion, and only with the greatest difficulty did we manage to secure one small room between us. A little later, when our landlord found out who we were, he was profuse in his apologies, and anxious to put us into better quarters, explaining that he had at first taken us for robbers. This was rather hard, after having had baths regularly for the last four days, having shaved our beards, and having borrowed clothes from Mr. Hugh Grosvenor at Pekin, but it made us realize what a shock we must have given Lady Macdonald on our first appearance in her drawing-room.