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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..45d9acb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54402 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54402) diff --git a/old/54402-0.txt b/old/54402-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ddaf8c5..0000000 --- a/old/54402-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9295 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Broken Journey, Illustrated, by Mary Gaunt - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: A Broken Journey, Illustrated - Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho Yo the Island of Saghalien - and the Upper Reaches of The Amur River - -Author: Mary Gaunt - -Release Date: March 21, 2017 [EBook #54402] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN JOURNEY, ILLUSTRATED *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - -A BROKEN JOURNEY - -Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho yo the Island of Saghalien and the Upper -Reaches of The Amur River - -By Mary Gaunt - -Author Of “Alone In West Africa” - -“A Woman In China,” Etc. - -London - -T. Werner Laurie Ltd. - -1919 - - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - - -TO MY - -SISTER AND BROTHERS - -IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE DAYS BEFORE WE - -WANDERED - - - - -FOREWORD - -I have to thank my friend Mrs Lang for the drastic criticism which once -more has materially helped me to write this book. Other people also have -I to thank, but so great was the kindness I received everywhere I -can only hope each one will see in this book some token of my sincere -gratitude. - -Mary Gaunt. - -Mary Haven, New Eltham, Kent. - - - - - -A BROKEN JOURNEY - - - - -CHAPTER I--THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN - -Each time I begin a book of travel I search for the reasons that sent -me awandering. Foolishness, for I ought to know by this time the -wander fever was born in my blood; it is in the blood of my sister and -brothers. We were brought up in an inland town in Victoria, Australia, -and the years have seen us roaming all over the world. I do not think -any of us has been nearer the North Pole than Petropaulovski, or to the -South Pole than Cape Horn--children of a sub-tropical clime, we do not -like the cold--but in many countries in between have we wandered. -The sailors by virtue of their profession have had the greater -opportunities, but the other five have made a very good second best of -it, and always there has been among us a very understanding sympathy -'with the desire that is planted in each and all to visit the remote -corners of the earth. - -Anybody can go on the beaten track. It only requires money to take -a railway or steamer ticket, and though we by no means despise -comfort--indeed, because we know something of the difficulties that -beset the traveller beyond the bounds of civilisation, we appreciate it -the more highly--still there is something else beyond comfort in life. -Wherein lies the call of the Unknown? To have done something that no -one else has done--or only accomplished with difficulty? Where lies -the charm? I cannot put it into words--only it is there, the “something -calling--beyond the mountains,” the “Come and find me” of Kipling. That -voice every one of the Gaunts hears, and we all sympathise when another -one goes. - -And that voice I heard loudly in China. - -“Come and find me! Come and find me!” - -The livelong day I heard it, and again and again and yet again I tried -to stifle it, for you who have read my _Woman in China_ will know that -travelling there leaves much to be desired. To say it is uncomfortable -is to put it in the mildest terms. Everything that I particularly -dislike in life have I met travelling in China; everything that repells -me; and yet, having unwisely invested $10 (about £1) in an atlas of -China, the voice began to ring in my ears day and night. - -I was living in an American Presbyterian mission station in the -western suburb of the walled town of Pao Ting Fu, just beyond European -influence, the influence of the Treaty Ports and the Legation quarter of -Peking. I wanted to see something of the real China, to get material for -a novel--not a novel concerning the Chinese; for I have observed that -no successful novel in English deals with anybody but the British or -the Americans; the other peoples come in as subordinates--and the -local colour was best got on the spot. There was plenty in Pao Ting Fu, -goodness knows. It had suffered severely in the Boxer trouble. In the -northern suburb, just about a mile from where we lived, was a tomb, -or monument rather, that had been raised to the missionaries massacred -then. They have made a garden plot where those burning houses stood, -they have planted trees and flowers, and set up memorial tablets in the -Chinese style, and the mission has moved to the western suburb, just -under the frowning walls of the town, and--is doubly strong. A God-given -fervour, say the missionaries, sends them forth.'Who am I to judge? But -I see that same desire to go forth in myself, that same disregard of -danger, when it is not immediate--I know I should be horribly scared -if it materialised--and I cannot claim for myself it is God-given, save -perhaps that all our desires are God-given. - -So there in the comfortable mission station I studied the local colour, -corrected my last book of China, and instead of planning the novel, -looked daily at the atlas of China, till there grew up in me a desire -to cross Asia, not by train to the north as I had already done, as -thousands of people used to do every year, but by the caravan route, -across Shensi and Kansu and Sinkiang to Andijan in Asiatic Russia, the -terminus of the Caspian Railway. Thousands and thousands of people go -slowly along that way too, but the majority do not go all the way, and -they do not belong to the class or nation whose comings and goings are -recorded. In fact, you may count on the fingers of one hand the people -who know anything of that road. The missionaries, particularly the -womenkind, did not take very cheerful view's about it. - -“If I wanted to die,” said one woman, meeting me as I was going round -the compound one day in the early spring of 1914, “I would choose some -easier way.” - -But the doctor there was keenly interested. He would have liked to -have gone himself, but his duty kept him alongside his patients and his -hospital in Pao Ting Fu, and though he pulled himself up every now and -then, remembering I was only a woman and probably couldn't do it, he -could not but take as great an interest in that map and ways and means -as I did myself. Then there was Mr Long, a professor at the big Chinese -college in the northern suburb--he was young and enthusiastic and as -interested as Dr Lewis. - -He too knew something about travel in unknown China, for he had been one -of the band of white men who had made their way over the mountains of -Shansi and Shensi in the depths of winter to go to the rescue of the -missionaries in Sui Te Chou and all the little towns down to Hsi An -Fu at the time of the Revolution. Yes, he knew something of the -difficulties of Chinese travel, and he thought I could do it. - -“The only danger would be robbers, and--well, you know, there mightn't -be robbers.” - -But Peking--the Peking of the Legations--that, I knew, held different -view's. I wrote to an influential man who had been in China over ten -years, who spoke the language well, and he was against it. - -“I was very much interested” (wrote he) “to read of your intention to -do that trek across country. You ask my opinion about it, but I can only -give you the same advice that _Punch_ gave many years ago, and that is, -_don't_. You must realise that the travelling will be absolutely awful -and the cost is very great indeed. You have not yet forgotten your -trip to Jehol, I hope, and the roughness of the road. The trip you -contemplate will make the little journey to Jehol look like a Sunday -morning walk in Hyde Park, particularly as regards travelling comfort, -to say nothing about the danger of the journey as regards hostile tribes -on the southern and western borders of Tibet. You will be passing near -the Lolo country, and I can assure you that the Lolos are _not_ a set of -gentlemen within the meaning of the Act. They are distinctly hostile to -foreigners, and many murders have taken place in their country that have -not been published because of the inability of the Chinese troops to -stand up against these people. What the peoples are like farther north -I do not know, but I understand the Tibetans are not particularly -trustworthy, and it will follow that the people living on their borders -will inherit a good many of their vices and few of their virtues. - -“If you have really made up your mind to go, however, just let me know, -and I will endeavour to hunt up all the information that it is possible -to collect as to the best route to take, etc., though I repeat I would -not advise the journey, and the Geographical Society can go to the -deuce.” - -This not because he despised the Geographical Society by any means, but -because I had advanced as one reason for going across Asia the desire to -win my spurs so and be an acceptable member. - -“My dear,” wrote a woman, “think of that poor young Brooke. The Tibetans -cut his throat with a sharp stone, which is a pleasant little way they -have.” - -Now the man's opinion was worth having, but the woman's is a specimen of -the loose way people are apt to reason--I do it myself--when they deal -with the unknown. The “poor young Brooke” never went near Tibet, and -was murdered about a thousand miles distant from the route I intended -to take. It was something as if a traveller bound to the Hebrides was -warned against dangers to be met upon the Rhone. - -One man who had travelled extensively in Mongolia was strongly against -the journey, but declared that “Purdom knew a great deal more about -travelling in China” than he did, and if “Purdom” said I might got--well -then, I might. Mr Purdom and Mr Reginald Farrer were going west to the -borders of Tibet botanising, and one night I dined with them, and Mr -Purdom was optimistic and declared if I was prepared for discomfort and -perhaps hardship he thought I might go. - -So it was decided, and thereupon those who knew took me in hand and gave -me all advice about travelling in China, how to minimise discomfort, -what to take and what to leave behind. One thing they were all agreed -upon. The Chinese, as a rule, are the most peaceable people upon earth, -the only thing I had to fear was a chance band of robbers, and if I fell -into their hands--well, it would probably be finish. - -“The Chinese are fiendishly cruel,” said my friend of Mongolian travel; -“keep your last cartridge for yourself.” - -I intimated that a pistol was quite beyond me, that that way of going -out did not appeal to me, and anyhow I'd be sure to bungle it. - -“Then have something made up at the chemist's and keep it always on your -person. You do not know how desperately you may need it.” - -I may say here that these remarks made no impression upon me whatever. -I suppose in most of us the feeling is strong that nothing bad -could possibly happen. It happens to other people, we know, but to -us--impossible! I have often wondered how near I could get to danger -without feeling that it really threatened--pretty close, I suspect. It -is probably a matter of experience. I cannot cross a London road with -equanimity--but then twice have I been knocked down and rather badly -hurt--but I gaily essayed to cross Asia by way of China, and would quite -certainly as gaily try again did I get the chance. Only next time I -propose to take a good cook. - -To some, of course, the unknown is always full of danger. - -The folks who walked about Peking without a qualm warned me I would die -of indigestion, I would be unable to drink the water, the filth would be -unspeakable, hydrophobia raged, and “when you are bitten, promptly cut -deep into the place and insert a chloride of mercury tabloid.” - -That last warning made me laugh. It reminded me of the time when as a -little girl, living in a country where deadly snakes swarmed--my eldest -brother killed sixty in a week, I remember, in our garden--I used to -think it would be extremely dangerous to go to Europe because there were -there mad dogs, things we never had in Australia! I think it was the -reference to hydrophobia and the chloride of mercury tabloid helped me -to put things in their proper prospective and made me realise that I was -setting out on a difficult journey with a possible danger of robbers; -but a possible danger is the thing we risk every day we travel in a -railway train or on an electric tramcar. I am always ready for possible -risks, it is when they become probable I bar them, so I set about my -preparations with a quiet mind. - -A servant. I decided I must have a tall servant and strong, because -so often in China I found I had to be lifted, and I had suffered from -having too small a man on my former journeys. The missionaries provided -me with a new convert of theirs, a tall strapping Northern Chinaman, who -was a mason by trade. Tsai Chih Fu, we called him--that is to say, he -came of the Tsai family; and the Chih Fu--I'm by no means sure that I -spell it right--meant a “master workman.” He belonged to a large firm of -masons, but as he had never made a dollar a day at his trade, my offer -of that sum put him at my service, ready to go out into the unknown. He -was a fine-looking man, dignified and courteous, and I had and have the -greatest respect for him. He could not read or write, of course. Now -a man who cannot read or write here in the West we look upon with -contempt, but it would be impossible to look upon Tsai Chih Fu with -contempt. He was a responsible person, a man who would count in any -company. He belonged to another era and another civilisation, but he -was a man of weight. A master of transport in Babylon probably closely -resembled my servant Tsai Chih Fu. - -[Illustration: 0027] - -My interpreter, Wang Hsien--that is, Mr Wang--was of quite a different -order. He was little and slight, with long artistic hands, of the -incapable artistic order, and he was a fool in any language; but good -interpreters are exceedingly difficult to get. He used to come and see -me every day for a fortnight before we started, and I must say my heart -sank when the simplest remark, probably a greeting, or a statement as -to the weather, was met with a “Repeat, please.” I found this was the -invariable formula and it was not conducive to brisk conversation. On my -way through the country things were apt to vanish before I had made -Mr Wang understand that I was asking, and was really in search of, -information. He had his black hair cut short in the progressive foreign -fashion (it looked as if he had had a basin put on his head--a good -large one--and the hair snipped off round), and he wore a long blue -cotton gown buttoned to his feet. Always he spoke with a silly giggle. -Could I have chosen, which I could not, he would have been about the -very last man I should have taken on a strenuous journey as guide, -philosopher and friend. - -And there was another member of the party, a most important member, -without whom I should not have dreamt of stirring--my little black and -white k'ang dog, James Buehanan, who loved me as no one in the world has -ever loved me, thought everything I did was perfect, and declared he was -willing to go with me to the ends of the earth. - -So I began my preparations. One thing only was clear, everyone was -agreed upon it, all my goods must be packed in canvas bags, because it -is impossible to travel by mule, or cart, or litter with one's clothes -in ordinary boxes. And I had, through the kindness of Messrs Forbes & -Company, to make arrangements with Chinese bankers, who have probably -been making the same arrangements since before the dawn of history, -to get money along the proposed route. These things I managed -satisfactorily; it was over the stores that, as usual, I made mistakes. -The fact of the matter is that the experience gained in one country is -not always useful for the next. When first I travelled in Africa I took -many “chop” boxes that were weighty and expensive of transport, and -contained much tinned meat that in a warm, moist climate I did not want. -I found I could live quite happily on biscuits and fruit and eggs, with -such relishes as anchovy paste or a few Bologna sausages for a change. -My expensive tinned foods I bestowed upon my servants and carriers, -greatly to my own regret. I went travelling in China, in Northern Chihli -and Inner Mongolia, I dwelt apart from all foreigners in a temple in the -western hills, and I found with a good cook I lived very comfortably off -the country, with just the addition of a few biscuits, tea, condensed -milk, coffee and raisins, therefore I persuaded myself I could go west -with few stores and do exactly the same. Thus I added considerably to my -own discomfort. The excellent master of transport was a bad cook, and a -simple diet of hard-boiled eggs, puffed rice and tea, with raisins for -dessert, however good in itself, is apt to pall when it is served up -three times a day for weeks with unfailing regularity. - -However, I didn't know that at the time. - -And at last all was ready. I had written to all the mission stations -as far west as Tihwa, in Sinkiang, announcing my coming. I had provided -myself with a folding table and chair--they both, I found, were given to -fold at inconvenient moments--some enamel plates, a couple of glasses, -a knife and fork, rudimentary kitchen utensils, bedding, cushions, rugs, -etc., and all was ready. I was to start the next week, ten days after Mr -Purdom and Mr Farrer had set out, for Honan, when there came a telegram -from Hsi An Fu: - -“Delay journey” (it read). - -“White wolf in Shensi. Shorrocks.” - -Was there ever such country? News that a robber was holding up the road -could be sent by telegram! - -China rather specialises in robbers, but White Wolf was considerably -worse than the average gentleman of the road. He defied the Government -in 1914, but the last time we of the mission station had heard of him -he was making things pleasant for the peaceful inhabitants of Anhwei, -to the east, and the troops were said to have him “well in hand.” But in -China you never know exactly where you are, and now he was in Shensi! - -I read that telegram in the pleasant March sunshine. I looked up at the -boughs of the “water chestnuts,” where the buds were beginning to swell, -and I wondered what on earth I should do. The roads now were as good -as they were ever likely to be, hard after the long winter and not yet -broken up by the summer rains. We discussed the matter from all points -that day at the midday dinner. The missionaries had a splendid cook, a -Chinese who had had his kitchen education finished in a French family, -and with a few good American recipes thrown in the combination makes a -craftsman fit for the Savoy, and all for ten Mexican dollars a month! -Never again do I expect to meet such salads, sweet and savoury! And here -was I doing my best to leave the flesh-pots of Egypt. It seemed foolish. - -I contented my soul with what patience I might for a week, and then I -telegraphed to Honan Fu, at which place I expected to be well away from -the railway. Honan Fu answered promptly: - -“The case is hopeless. Hsi An Fu threatened. Advise you go by T'ai Yuan -Fu.” - -Now the road from Honan Fu to Hsi An Fu is always dangerous. It is -through the loess, sunken many feet below the level of the surrounding -country, and at the best of times is infested with stray robbers who, -from the cliffs above, roll down missiles on the carts beneath, kill the -mules and hold the travellers at their mercy. The carters go in large -bodies and are always careful to find themselves safe in the inn-yards -before the dusk has fallen. - -These were the everyday dangers of the way such as men have faced for -thousands of years; if you add to them an organised robber band and a -large body of soldiers in pursuit, clearly that road is no place for a -solitary foreign woman, with only a couple of attendants, a little dog, -and for all arms a small pistol and exactly thirteen cartridges--all -I could get, for it is difficult to buy ammunition in China. Then to -clinch matters came another telegram from Hsi An Fu, in cipher this -time: - -“Do not come” (it said). - - -“The country is very much disturbed.” - -From Anhwei to Shensi the brigands had operated. They had burned and -looted and outraged by order of Pai Lang (White Wolf), leaving behind -them ruined homes and desolated hearths, and when the soldiers came -after them, so said Rumour of the many tongues, White Wolf, who was rich -by then, left money on the roads and so bribed the avenging army to come -over to him. - -But to the ordinary peaceful inhabitant--and curiously enough the -ordinary Chinese is extremely peaceful--it is not a matter of much -moment whether it be Pai Lang or the soldier who is hunting him who -falls upon the country. The inhabitants are sure to suffer. Both bandit -and soldier must have food, so both loot and outrage impartially, for -the unpaid soldiery--I hope I shall not be sued for libel, but most of -the soldiery when I was in China appeared to be unpaid--loot just as -readily as do the professional bandits. A robber band alone is a heavy -load for a community to carry, and a robber band pursued by soldiers -more than doubles the burden. - -Still the soldiers held Tungkwan, the gate into Shensi, the mountains on -either side blocked the way, and Hsi An Fu breathed for a moment till -it was discovered that Pai Lang in strategy was equal to anyone who had -been sent against him. He had taken the old and difficult route through -the mountains and had come out west of the narrow pass of Tungkwan and, -when I became interested in him, was within a day's march of Hsi An -Fu, the town that is the capital of the province of Shensi and was the -capital of China many hundreds of years ago. It is a walled city, but -the people feared and so did the members of the English Baptist Mission -sheltering behind those walls. And, naturally, they feared, for the -Society of the Elder Brethren had joined Pai Lang, and the Society of -Elder Brethren always has been and is markedly anti-foreign. This was -the situation, growing daily a little worse, and we foreigners looked -on; and the Government organs in Peking told one day how a certain Tao -Tai had been punished and degraded because he had been slack in putting -down White Wolf and possibly the next day declared the power of White -Wolf was broken and he was in full retreat. I don't know how many times -I read the power of White Wolf had been broken and yet in the end I -was regretfully obliged to acknowledge that he was stronger than ever. -Certainly Pai Lang turned my face north sooner than I intended, for the -idea of being a target for rocks and stones and billets of wood at -the bottom of a deep ditch from which there could be no escape did not -commend itself to me. True, in loess country, as I afterwards found, -there are no stones, no rocks and no wood. I can't speak for the road -through Tungkwan, for I didn't dare it. But, even if there were -no stones, loose earth--and there is an unlimited quantity of that -commodity in Northern China--flung down from a height would be -exceedingly unpleasant. - -Of course it all might have been rumour--it wasn't, I found out -afterwards; but unfortunately the only way to find out at the time -was by going to see for myself, and if it had been true--well, in -all probability I shouldn't have come back. That missionary evidently -realised how keen I was when he suggested that I should go by T'ai Yuan -Fu, the capital of Shansi, and I determined to take his advice. There -was a way, a little-known way, across the mountains, across Shansi, by -Sui Te Chou in Shensi, and thence into Kansu, which would eventually -land me in Lan Chou Fu if I cared to risk it. - -This time I asked Mr Long's advice. He and the little band of nine -rescuers who had ridden hot haste to the aid of the Shensi missionaries -during the revolution had taken this road, and they had gone in the -depths of winter when the country was frozen hard and the thermometer -was more often below zero, very far below zero, than not. If they had -accomplished it when pressed for time in the great cold, I thought' in -all probability I might manage it now at the best time of the year -and at my leisure. Mr Long, who would have liked to have gone himself, -thought so too, and eventually I set off. - -The missionaries were goodness itself to me. Dr Mackay, in charge of the -Women's Hospital, set me up with all sorts of simple drugs that I might -require and that I could manage, and one day in the springtime, when the -buds on the trees in the compound were just about to burst, and full -of the promise of the life that was coming, I, with most of the -missionaries to wish me “Godspeed,” and with James Buchanan under my -arm, my giggling interpreter and my master of transport following with -my gear, took train to T'ai Yuan Fu, a walled city that is set in the -heart of a fertile plateau surrounded by mountains. - -The great adventure had begun. - - - - -CHAPTER II--TRUCULENT T'AI YUAN FU - -But you mayn't go to T'ai Yuan Fu in one day. The southern train puts -you down at Shih Chia Chuang--the village of the Stone Family--and there -you must stay till 7.40 a.m. next morning, when the French railway built -through the mountains that divide Shansi from Shensi takes you on to -its terminus at T'ai Yuan Fu. There is a little Chinese inn at Shih -Chia Chuang that by this time has become accustomed to catering for the -foreigner, but those who are wise beg the hospitality of the British -American Tobacco Company. - -I craved that hospitality, and two kindly young men came to the station -through a dust-storm to meet me and took me off to their house that, -whether it was intended to or not, with great cool stone balconies, -looked like a fort. But they lived on perfectly friendly terms with -people. Why not? To a great number of the missionaries the B.A.T. is -_anathema maranatha_, though many of the members rival in pluck and -endurance the missionaries themselves. And why is it a crime for a man -or a woman to smoke? Many of the new teachers make it so and thus lay an -added burden on shoulders already heavily weighted. Personally I should -encourage smoking, because it is the one thing people who are far apart -as the Poles might have in common. - -And goodness knows they have so few things. Even with the animals the -“East is East and West is West” feeling is most marked. Here at the -B.A.T. they had a small pekinese as a pet. She made a friend of James -Buchanan in a high and haughty manner, but she declined to accompany him -outside the premises. Once she had been stolen and had spent over three -months in a Chinese house. Then one day her master saw her and, making -good his claim, took her home with him. Since that time nothing would -induce her to go beyond the front door. She said in effect that she got -all the exercise she needed in the courtyard, and if it did spoil her -figure, she preferred a little weight to risking the tender mercies of -a Chinese household, and I'm sure she told Buchanan, who, having the -sacred V-shaped mark on his forehead, was reckoned very beautiful and -was much admired by the Chinese, that he had better take care and not -fall into alien hands. Buchanan as a puppy of two months old had been -bought in the streets of Peking, and when we started on our journey -must have been nearly ten months old, but he had entirely forgotten his -origin and regarded all Chinese with suspicion. He tolerated the master -of transport as a follower of whom we had need. - -“Small dog,” Mr Wang called him, and looked upon him doubtfully, but -really not as doubtfully as Buchanan looked at him. He was a peaceful, -friendly little dog, but I always thought he did not bite Mr Wang simply -because he despised him so. - -Those two young men were more than good to me. They gave me refreshment, -plenty of hot water to wash away the ravages of the dust-storm, and good -company, and as we sat and talked--of White Wolf, of course--there -came to us the tragedy of a life, a woman who had not the instincts of -Buchanan. - -Foreign women are scarce at Shih Chia Chuang; one a month is something -to remark upon, one a week is a crowd, so that when, as we sat in the -big sitting-room talking, the door opened and a foreign woman stood -there, everyone rose to his feet in astonishment. Mr Long, who had been -up the line, stood beside her, and behind her was a Chinaman with a -half-caste baby in his arms. She was young and tall and rather pretty. - -[Illustration: 0037] - -[Illustration: 0038] - -“I bring you a lady in distress,” said Mr Long rather hastily, -explaining matters. “I met Mrs Chang on the train. She has miscalculated -her resources and has not left herself enough money to get to Peking.” - -The woman began to explain; but it is an awkward thing to explain to -strangers that you have no money and are without any credentials. I -hesitated. Eventually I hope I should have helped her, but my charity -and kindliness were by no means as ready and spontaneous as those of my -gallant young host. He never hesitated a moment. You would have thought -that women and babies without any money were his everyday business. - -“Why, sure,” said he in his pleasant American voice, “if I can be of any -assistance. But you can't go to-day, Mrs Chang; of course you will stay -with us--oh yes, yes; indeed we should be very much hurt if you didn't; -and you will let me lend you some money.” - -And so she was established among us, this woman who had committed the -unpardonable sin of the East, the sin against her race, the sin for -which there is no atoning. It is extraordinary after all these years, -after all that has been said and written, that Englishwomen, women of -good class and standing, will so outrage all the laws of decency and -good taste. This woman talked. She did not like the Chinese, she would -not associate with them; her husband, of course, was different. He was -good to her; but it was hard to get work in these troubled times, harder -still to get paid for it, and he had gone away in search of it, so she -was going for a holiday to Peking and--here she tumedto the young -men and talked about the society and the dances and the amusement she -expected to have among the foreigners in the capital, she who for so -long had been cut off from such joys in the heart of China among an -alien people. - -We listened. What could we say? - -“People in England don't really understand,” said she, “what being in -exile means. They don't understand the craving to go home and speak to -one's own people; but being in Peking will be something like being in -England.” - -We other five never even looked at each other, because we knew, and we -could hardly believe, that she had not yet realised that in marrying -a Chinese, even one who had been brought up in England, she had exiled -herself effectually. The Chinese look down upon her, they will have none -of her, and among the foreigners she is outcast. These young men who had -come to her rescue with such right good will--“I could not see a foreign -woman in distress among Chinese”--will pass her in the street with a -bow, will not see her if they can help themselves, will certainly object -that anyone they care about should see them talking to her, and their -attitude but reflects that of the majority of the foreigners in China. -Her little child may not go to the same sehool as the foreign children, -even as it may not go to the same school as the Chinese. She has -committed the one error that outclasses her, and she is going to pay for -it in bitterness all the days of her life. And everyone in that room, -while we pitied her, held, and held strongly, that the attitude of the -community, foreign and Chinese, was one to be upheld. - -“East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet,” and yet -here and there one still comes across a foolish woman who wrecks her -life because she never seems to have heard of this dictum. She talked -and talked, and told us how good was her husband to her, and we -listeners said afterwards she “doth protest too much,” she was -convincing herself, not us, and that, of course, seeing he was a -Chinaman, he was disappointed that the baby was a girl, and that his -going off alone was the beginning of the end, and we were thankful that -she was “the only girl her mother had got,” and so she could go back to -her when the inevitable happened. - -The pity of it! When will the stay-at-home English learn that the -very worst thing one of their women can do with her life is to wed -an Oriental? But when I think of that misguided woman in that remote -Chinese village I shall always think too of those gallant young -gentlemen, perfect in courteous kindliness, who ran the B.A.T. in Shih -Chia Chuang. - -The next day Buchanan and I and our following boarded the luxurious -little mountain railway and went to T'ai Yuan Fu. - -This railway, to me, who know nothing of such things, is a very marvel -of engineering skill. There are great rugged mountains, steep and rocky, -and the train winds its way through them, clinging along the sides of -precipices, running through dark tunnels and cuttings that tower high -overhead and going round such curves that the engine and the guard's van -of a long train are going in exactly opposite directions. A wonderful -railway, and doubly was I interested in it because before ever I came to -China I had heard about it. - -When there are disturbances in China it is always well for the foreign -element to flee while there is yet time, for the sanctity of human life -is not yet thoroughly grasped there, and there is always the chance -that the foreigner may be killed first and his harmlessness, or even -his value, discovered later. So in the revolution in the winter of -1910-1911, though all train traffic had stopped, the missionaries from -T'ai Yuan Fu and those from the country beyond fled down this railway. -A friend of mine, an artist, happened to be staying at a mission station -in the mountains and made one of the party. It was the depth of a Shansi -winter, a Continental winter, with the thermometer generally below -15° -at the warmest part of the day, and the little band of fugitives came -fleeing down this line on trollies worked by the men of the party. -They stayed the nights at the deserted railway stations, whence all the -officials had fled, and the country people in their faded blue cotton -wadded coats came and looked at them and, pointing their fingers at -them exactly as I have seen the folks in the streets of London do at a -Chinaman or an Arab in an outlandish dress, remarked that these people -were going to their death. - -“Death! Death!” sounded on all sides. They, the country people, were -peaceful souls; they would not have killed them themselves; they merely -looked upon them as an interesting exhibit because they were foreign and -they were going to die. That the audience were wrong the people on show -were not quite as sure as they would have liked to be, and a single-line -railway through mountainous country is by no means easy to negotiate on -a trolly. They came to places where the line was carried upon trestles; -they could see a river winding its way at the bottom of a rocky ravine -far below them, and the question would be how to get across. It required -more nerve than most of them had to walk across the skeleton bridge. The -procedure seems to have been to give each trolly a good hard push, to -spring upon it and to trust to Providence to get safely across to the -firm earth upon the other side. The tunnels too, and the sharp curves, -were hair-raising, for they knew nothing of what was happening at the -other end of the line, and for all they could say they might have come -full butt upon a train rushing up in the other direction. - -Eventually they did get through, but with considerable hardship, and I -should hesitate to say how many days that little company went without -taking off their clothes. I thought of them whenever our train went into -a tunnel, and I thought too of the gay girl who told me the story -and who had dwelt not upon the discomfort and danger, but upon the -excitement and exhilaration that comes with danger. - -“I lived,” said she, “I lived,” and my heart went out to her. It is that -spirit in this “nation of shopkeepers” that is helping us to beat the -Germans. - -The scenery through which we went is beautiful--it would be beautiful -in any land--and this in China, where I expected not so much beauty -as industry. There were evidences of industry in plenty on every side. -These people were brethren of the bandits who turned me north and they -are surely the most industrious in the world. Wherever among these stony -hills there was a patch of ground fit for cultivation, though it was -tiny as a pocket handkerchief, it was cultivated. Everywhere I saw -people at work in the fields, digging, weeding, ploughing with a dry cow -or a dry cow and a donkey hitched to the primitive plough, or guiding -trains of donkeys or mules carrying merchandise along the steep and -narrow paths, and more than once I saw strings of camels, old-world -camels that took me back before the days of written history. They kept -to the valleys and evidently made their way along the river beds. - -Through mountain sidings and tunnels we came at length to the curious -loess country, where the friable land is cut into huge terraces that -make the high hills look like pyramids carved in great clay-coloured -steps, and now in April the green crops were already springing; another -month and they would be banks of waving green. The people are poor, -their faces were browned by the sun and the wind, their garments were -scanty and ragged, and the original blue was faded till the men and -the clothes were all the same monotonous clay colour of the surrounding -country. The women I saw here were few, and only afterwards I found the -reason. The miserably poor peasant of Shansi binds the feet of his -women so effectually that to the majority movement is a physical -impossibility. - -We climbed up and up through the mountains into the loess country, -and at last we were on the plateau, about four thousand feet above the -sea-level, whereon is T'ai Yuan Fu, the capital of the province. There -are other towns here too, little walled eities, and the train drew up at -the stations outside the grey brick walls, the most ancient and the most -modern, Babylon and Crewe meeting. Oh, I understand the need of those -walled eities now I have heard so much about Pai Lang. There is a -certain degree of safety behind those grey walls, so long as the robber -bands are small and the great iron-bound gates ean keep them out, but -dire is the fate of the city into which the enemy has penetrated, has -fastened the gates and holds the people in a trap behind their own -walls. - -But these people were at peace; they were thinking of no robbers. Pai -Lang was about five hundred miles away and the station platforms were -crowded with would-be travellers with their belongings in bundles, and -over the fence that shut off the platform hung a vociferating crowd -waving white banners on which were inscribed in black characters the -signs of the various inns, while each banner-bearer at the top of his -voice advocated the charms of his own employer's establishment. The -queue was forbidden for the moment, but many of these ragged touts and -many of the other peasants still wore their heads shaven in front, for -the average Chinaman, especially he of the poorer classes, is loath to -give up the fashions of his forefathers. - -Every railway platform was pandemonium, for every person on that -platform yelled and shrieked at the top of his voice. On the main line -every station was guarded by untidy, unkempt-looking soldiers armed with -rifles, but there on this little mountain railway the only guards were -policemen, equally unkempt, clad in very dusty black and white and -armed with stout-looking bludgeons. They stood along the line at regular -intervals, good-natured-looking men, and I wondered whether they would -really be any good in an emergency, or whether they would not take the -line of least resistance and join the attacking force. - -All across the cultivated plain we went, where not an inch of ground -is wasted, and at half-past five in the evening we arrived at T'ai Yuan -Fu--arrived, that is, at the station outside the little South Gate. - -T'ai Yuan Fu is a great walled city eight miles round, with five gates -in the walls, gates that contrast strangely with the modern-looking -macadamised road which goes up from the station. I don't know why I -should feel that way, for they certainly had paved roads even in the -days before history. Outside the walls are neat, perhaps forty feet high -and of grey brick, and inside you see how these city walls are made, for -they are the unfinished clay banks that have been faced in front, and -when I was there in the springtime the grass upon them was showing -everywhere and the shrubs were bursting into leaf. But those banks gave -me a curious feeling of being behind the scenes. - -[Illustration: 0047] - -I was met at the station by some of the ladies of the English Baptist -Mission who had come to welcome me and to offer me, a total stranger to -them, kindly hospitality, and we walked through the gate to the mission -inside the walls. It was only a short walk, short and dusty, but it was -thronged. All the roadway was crowded with rickshaws and carts waiting -in a long line their turn to go underneath the gateway over which -frowned a typical many-roofed Chinese watch tower, and as cart or -rickshaw came up the men along with it were stopped by the dusty -soldiery in black and grey and interrogated as to their business. - -When I got out on to the platform I had looked up at the ancient walls -clear-cut against the bright blue sky, and the women meeting me looked -askance at Tsai Chih Fu, who, a lordly presence, stood behind me, with -James Buchanan in his arms, a little black satin cap on his head and his -pigtail hanging down his back. - -“There is some little commotion in the town,” said Miss Franklin. “They -are cutting off queues.” - -The master of transport smiled tolerantly when they told him, and, -taking off his cap, he wound his tightly round his head. - -“I know,” he said in the attitude of a man of the world, “some people do -not wear them now. But I have always worn one, and I like it,” and his -manner said he would like to see the person who would dare dictate to -him in what manner he should wear his hair. He could certainly have put -up a good fight. - -It was not needed. He passed through unchallenged; he was a quietly -dressed man who did not court notice and his strapping inches were -in his favour. He might well be passed over when there were so many -slighter men more easily tackled. One man riding along in a rickshaw I -saw put up a splendid fight. At last he was hauled out of his carriage -and his little round cap tossed off his head, and then it was patent his -queue could not be cut, for he was bald as a billiard ball! The Chinese -do understand a joke, even a mob. They yelled and howled with laughter, -and we heard it echoing and re-echoing as we passed under the frowning -archway, tramping across many a dusty coil of coarse black hair roughly -shorn from the heads of the luckless adherents to the old fashion. The -missionaries said that Tsai Chih Fu must be the only man in T'ai Yuan Fu -with a pigtail and that it would be very useful to us as we went farther -west, where they had not yet realised the revolution. They doubted if -he would be able to keep it on so strict was the rule, but he did--a -tribute, I take it, to the force of my “master of transport.” - -The ladies lived in a Chinese house close under the walls. There is a -great charm about these houses built round courtyards in the Chinese -style; there is always plenty of air and sunshine, though, as most of -the rooms open into the courtyard only, I admit in rough weather they -must sometimes be awkward, and when--as is always the case in Shansi -in winter-time--the courtyard is covered with ice and snow, and the -thermometer is far below zero for weeks at a time, it is impossible to -go from bedroom to sitting-room without being well wrapped up. And yet, -because China is not a damp country, it could never be as awkward as -it would be in England, and for weeks at a time it is a charming -arrangement. Staying there in April, I found it delightful. Buchanan and -I had a room under a great tree just showing the first faint tinge of -green, and I shall always be grateful for the kindly hospitality those -young ladies gave me. - -From there we went out and saw T'ai Yuan Fu, and another kindly -missionary engaged muleteers for me and made all arrangements for my -journey across Shansi and Shensi and Kansu to Lan Chou Fu. - -But T'ai Yuan Fu is not a nice town to stay in. - -“The town,” said the missionaries, “is progressive and anti-foreign.” - It is. You feel somehow the difference in the attitude of the people -the moment you set foot inside the walls. It seems to me that if trouble -really came it would be an easy matter to seize the railway and cut off -the foreign missionaries from all help, for it is at least a fortnight -away in the mountains. - -They suffered cruelly at the Boxer time: forty men, women and little -helpless children were butchered in cold blood in the yamen, and the -archway leading to the hospital where Miss Coombs the schoolmistress -was deliberately burned to death while trying to guard and shelter -her helpless pupils still stands. In the yamen, with a refinement of -torture, they cut to pieces the little children first, and then the -women, the nuns of the Catholic Church the fierce soldiery dishonoured, -and finally they slew all the men. Against the walls in the street stand -two miserable stones that the Government were forced to put up to the -memory of the foreigners thus ruthlessly done to death, but a deeper -memorial is engraven on the hearts of the people. Some few years later -the tree underneath which they were slain was blasted by lightning and -half destroyed, and on that very spot, during the recent revolution, the -Tao Tai of the province was killed. - -“A judgment!” said the superstitious people. “A judgment!” say even the -educated. - -And during the late revolution the white people shared with the -inhabitants a terribly anxious time. Shut up in the hospital with a -raging mob outside, they waited for the place to be set on fire. The -newest shops in the principal streets were being looted, the Manchu -city--a little walled city within the great city--was destroyed, and -though they opened the gates and told the Manchus they might escape, -the mob hunted down the men as they fled and slew them, though, more -merciful than Hsi An Fu, they let the women and children escape. Men's -blood was up, the lust of killing was upon them, and the men and women -behind the hospital walls trembled. - -“We made up our minds,” said a young missionary lady to me, “that if -they fired the place we would rush out and mingle in the mob waiting -to kill us. They looked awful. I can't tell you how they looked, but it -would have been better than being burned like rats in a trap.” - -A Chinese crowd, to my Western eyes, unkempt, unwashed, always looks -awful; what it must be like when they are out to kill I cannot imagine. - -And then she went on: “Do you know, I was not really as much afraid as -I should have thought I would have been. There was too mueh to think -about.” Oh, merciful God! I pray that always in such moments there may -be “too much to think about.” - -The mob looted the city. They ruined the university. They destroyed the -Manehus. But they spared the foreigners; and still there flourishes in -the town a mission of the English Baptists and another of the Catholics, -but when I was there the town had not yet settled down. There was -unrest, and the missionaries kept their eyes anxiously on the south, on -the movements of Pai Lang. We thought about him at Pao Ting Fu, but here -the danger was just a little nearer, help just a little farther away. -Besides, the people were different. They were not quite so subservient, -not quite so friendly to the foreigner, it would take less to light the -tinder. - -For myself, I was glad of the instinct that had impelled me to engage -as servant a man of inches. I dared never walk in the streets alone as -I had been accustomed to in Pao Ting Fu. It marks in my mind the -jumping-off place. Here I left altogether the civilisation of the West -and tasted the age-old civilisation of the East, the civilisation that -was in full swing when my ancestors were naked savages hunting the deer -and the bear and the wolf in the swamps and marshes of Northern Europe. -I had thought I had reached that civilisation when I lived in Peking, -when I dwelt alone in a temple in the mountains, when I went to Pao -Ting Fu, but here in T'ai Yuan Fu the feeling deepened. Only the mission -stations stood between me and this strange thing. The people in the -streets looked at me askance, over the compound wall came the curious -sounds of an ancient people at work, the shrieking of the greased -wheel-barrows, the beating of gongs, the whir of the rattle of the -embroidery silk seller, the tinkling of the bells that were hung round -the necks of the donkeys and the mules, the shouting of the hucksters -selling scones and meat balls, all the sounds of an industrious city, -and I was an outsider, the alien who was something of a curiosity, but -who anyhow was of no account. Frankly, I don't like being of no account. -As a matter of fact, I shocked all Chinese ideas of correct deportment. -When a well-bred Chinese gentleman arrives at a strange place, he does -not look around him, he shows no curiosity whatever in his surroundings, -he retires to his room, his meal is brought to him and he remains -quietly in his resting-place till it is time for him to take his -departure, and what applies to a man, applies, of course, in an -exaggerated degree, to a woman. Now I had come to see China, and I made -every effort in my power to see all I could. I tremble to think what -the inhabitants of Shansi must have thought of me! Possibly, since I -outraged all their canons of decency, I was lucky in that they only -found me of no account. - -All the while I was in T'ai Yuan Fu I was exceedingly anxious about the -measure of safety for a foreign woman outside the walls, and opinions -differed as to the wisdom of my venture, but, on the whole, those I -consulted thought I would be all right. They rather envied me, in fact, -the power to go wandering, but on one point they were very sure: it was -a pity Dr Edwards, the veteran missionary doctor, was not there, because -he knew more about China and travelling there than all the rest of them -put together. But he had gone out on his own account and was on the way -to Hsi An Fu, the town I had given up as hopeless. He did not propose to -approach it through the Tungkwan, but from the north, and they did not -expect him to have any difficulty. - -Then I found I had not brought enough money with me and the missionaries -lent me more, and they engaged muleteers with four mules and a donkey -that were to take me across the thousand miles that lay between the -capital of Shansi and that of Kansu. Two men were in charge, and the -cost of getting there, everything included--the men to feed themselves -and their animals and I only to be responsible for the feeding and -lodging of my own servants--was exactly eighteen pounds. It has always -seemed to me ridiculously cheap. Money must go a long way in China for -it to be possible for two men to take four mules and a donkey laden a -thousand miles, and then come back unladen and keep themselves by the -way, for so small a sum. - -So I sent off my servants the day before, then Buchanan and I bade -good-bye to the missionaries and went the first day's journey back along -the line to Yu Tze, where the road started for the Yellow River, and -as I left the train and was taken by Tsai Chih Fu and Mr Wang to the -enclosure of the inn where they had spent the night I felt that I had -indeed left the West behind, and the only companion and friend I had was -James Buchanan. It was lucky he was a host in himself. - - - - -CHAPTER III--THE FIRST SIGN OF UNREST - -I was to ride a pack-mule. Now riding a pack-mule at any time is an -unpleasant way of getting along the road. I know no more uncomfortable -method. It is not quite as comfortable as sitting upon a table with -one's legs dangling, for the table is still, the mule is moving, and -one's legs dangle on either side of his neck. There are neither reins -nor stirrups, and the mule goes at his own sweet will, and in a very -short time your back begins to ache, after a few hours that aching is -intolerable. To get over this difficulty the missionary had cut the legs -off a chair and suggested that, mounted on the pack, I might sit in it -comfortably. I don't know whether I could, for the mule objected. - -It was a sunny morning with a bright blue sky above, and all seemed -auspicious except my mule, who expressed in no measured language his -dislike to that chair. Tsai Chih Fu had no sooner hoisted me into it -than up he went on his hind legs and, using them as a pivot, stood -on end pawing the air. Everybody in the inn-yard shrieked and yelled -except, I hope, myself, and then Tsai Chih Fu, how I know not, rescued -me from my unpleasant position, and thankfully I found myself upon -the firm ground again. He was a true Chinese mule and objected to all -innovations. He stood meekly enough once the chair was removed. - -I wanted to cross Asia and here I was faced with disaster at the very -outset! Finally I was put upon the pack minus the chair, Buchanan was -handed up to me and nestled down beside me, and the procession started. -My heart sank. I don't mind acknowledging it now. I had at least -a thousand miles to go, and within half-an-hour of the start I had -thoroughly grasped the faet that of all modes of progression a pack-mule -is the most abominable. There are no words at my command to express its -discomforts. - -Very little did I see of the landscape of Shansi that day. I was engaged -in hanging on to my pack and wondering how I could stick it out. We -passed along the usual hopeless cart-track of China. I had eschewed -Peking carts as being the very acme of misery, but I was beginning to -reflect that anyhow a cart was comparatively passive misery while the -back of a pack-mule was decidedly active. Buchanan was a good little -dog, but he mentioned several times in the course of that day that he -was uncomfortable and he thought I was doing a fool thing. I was much of -his opinion. - -[Illustration: 0057] - -[Illustration: 0058] - -The day was never ending. All across a plain we went, with rough fields -just showing green on either hand, through walled villages, through -little towns, and I cared for nothing, I was too intent on holding on, -on wishing the day would end, and at last, as the dusk was falling, the -muleteer pointed out, clear-cut against the evening sky, the long wralls -of a large town--Taiku. At last! At last! - -I was to stay the night at a large mission school kept by a Mr and Mrs -Wolf, and I only longed for the comfort of a bed, any sort of a bed so -long as it was flat and warm and kept still. We went on and on, we got -into the suburbs of the town, and we appeared to go round and round, -through an unending length of dark, narrow streets, full of ruts and -holes, with the dim loom of houses on either side, and an occasional -gleam of light from a dingy kerosene lamp or Chinese paper lantern -showing through the paper windows. - -Again and again we stopped and spoke to men who were merely muffled -shapeless figures in the darkness, and again we went on. I think now -that in all probability neither Tsai Chih Fu nor Mr Wang understood -enough of the dialect to make the muleteers or the people of whom we -inquired understand where we wanted to go, but at last, more probably by -good luck than good management, somebody, seeing I was a foreigner, sent -us to the foreigners they knew, those who kept a school for a hundred -and twenty-five boys in the lovely Flower Garden. It certainly was -lovely, an old-world Chinese house, with little courtyards and ponds -and terraces and flowers and trees--and that comfortable bed I had been -desiring so long. As we entered the courtyard in the darkness and Tsai -Chili Fu lifted me down, the bed was the only thing I could think of. - -[Illustration: 0057] - -[Illustration: 0058] - -[Illustration: 0059] - -And yet next day I started again--I wonder now I dared--and we skirted -the walls of Taiku. We had gone round two sides and then, as I always do -when I am dead-tired, I had a bad attack of breathlessness. Stay on that -pack I knew I could not, so I made my master of transport lift me down, -and I sat on a bank for the edification of all the small boys in the -district who, even if they had known how ill I felt, probably would -not have cared, and I deeided there and then that pack-mule riding was -simply impossible and something would have to be done. Therefore, with -great difficulty, I made my way baek to the mission school and asked Mr -Wolf what he would recommend. - -Again were missionaries kindness itself to me. They sympathised with my -trouble, they took me in and made me their guest, refusing to take any -money for it, though they added to their kindness by allowing me to pay -for the keep of my servants, and they strongly recommended that I should -have a litter. A litter then I decided I would have. - -It is, I should think, the very earliest form of human conveyance. It -consists of two long poles laid about as far apart as the shafts of an -ordinary cart, in the middle is hung a coarse-meshed rope net, and over -that a tilt of matting--the sort of stuff we see tea-chests covered -with in this country. Into the net is tumbled all one's small -impedimenta--clothes-bags, kettles, anything that will not conveniently -go on mule-back; the bedding is put on top, rugs and cushions arranged -to the future inmate's satisfaction, then you get inside and the -available people about are commandeered to hoist the concern on to the -backs of the couple of mules, who object very strongly. The head of the -one behind is in the shafts, and the ends rest in his pack-saddle, and -the hind quarters of the one in front are in the shafts, just as in an -ordinary buggy. Of course there are no reins, and at first I felt very -much at the mercy of the mules, though I am bound to say the big white -mule who conducted my affairs seemed to thoroughly understand his -business. Still it is uncomfortable, to say the least of it, to find -yourself going, apparently quite unattended, down steep and rocky paths, -or right into a rushing river. But on the whole a litter is a very -comfortable way of travelling; after a pack-mule it was simply heaven, -and I had no doubts whatever that I could comfortably do the thousand -miles, lessened now, I think, by about thirty, that lay before me. If I -reached Lan Chou Fu there would be time enough to think how I would go -on farther. And here my muleteers had me. When I arranged for a litter, -I paid them, of course, extra, and I said another mule was to be got to -carry some of the loads. They accepted the money and agreed. But I may -say that that other mule never materialised. I accepted the excuse when -we left Taiku that there was no other mule to be hired, and by the time -that excuse had worn thin I had so much else to think about that I bore -up, though not even a donkey was added to our equipment. - -Money I took with me in lumps of silver, sycee--shoes, they called -them--and a very unsatisfactory way it is of carrying cash. It is very -heavy and there is no hiding the fact that you have got it. We changed -little bits for our daily needs as we went along, just as little as -we could, because the change in cash was an intolerable burden. On one -occasion in Fen Chou Fu I gave Tsai Chih Fu a very small piece of silver -to change and intimated that I would like to see the result. That piece -of silver I reckon was worth about five shillings, but presently my -master of transport and one of the muleteers came staggering in and -laid before me rows and rows of cash strung on strings! I never felt -so wealthy in my life. After that I never asked for my change. I was -content to keep a sort of general eye on the expenditure, and I expect -the only leakage was the accepted percentage which every servant levies -on his master. 'When they might easily have cheated me, I found my -servants showed always a most praiseworthy desire for my welfare. And -yet Mr Wang did surprise me occasionally. While I was in Pao Ting Fu I -had found it useful to learn to count in Chinese, so that roughly I knew -what people at the food-stalls were charging me. On one occasion I saw -some little cakes powdered with sesame seed that I thought I should like -and I instructed Mr Wang to buy me one. I heard him ask the price and -the man say three cash, and my interpreter turned to me and said that -it was four! I was so surprised I said nothing. It may have been the -regulation percentage, and twenty-five per cent is good anywhere, but -at the moment it seemed to me extraordinary that a man who considered -himself as belonging to the upper classes should find it worth his while -to do me out of one cash, which was worth--no, I give it up. I don't -know what it was worth. 10.53 dollars went to the pound when I was in -Shansi and about thirteen hundred cash to the dollar, so I leave it to -some better mathematician than I am to say what I was done out of on -that occasion. - -There was another person who was very pleased with the litter and that -was James Buchanan. Poor little man, just before we left the Flower -Garden he was badly bitten by a dog, so badly he could no longer walk, -and I had to carry him on a cushion alongside me in the litter. I never -knew before how dearly one could love a dog, for I was terrified lest he -should die and I should be alone in the world. He lay still and refused -to eat, and every movement seemed to pain him, and whenever I struck -a missionary--they were the only people, of course, with whom I could -converse--they always suggested his back was broken. - -I remember at Ki Hsien, where I was entertained most hospitably, and -where the missionary's wife was most sympathetic, he was so ill that I -sat up all night with him and thought he would surely die. And yet in -the morning he was still alive. He moaned when we lifted him into the -litter and whined pitifully when I got out, as I had to several times to -take photographs. - -“Don't leave me, don't leave me to the mercy of the Chinese,” he said, -and greeted me with howls of joy when I returned. It was a great day for -both of us when he got a little better and could put his pretty little -black and white head round the tilt and keep his eye upon me while I -worked. But really he was an ideal patient, such a good, patient little -dog, so grateful for any attention that was paid him, and from that time -he began to mend and by the time I reached Fen Chou Fu was almost his -old gay happy little self again. - -Taiku is a dying town over two thousand years old, and I have before -seen dead towns in China. Fewer and fewer grow the inhabitants, the -grass grows in the streets, the bricks fall away from the walls, the -houses fall down, until but a few shepherds or peasant farmers dwell -where once were the busy haunts of merchants and tradesmen. - -From Taiku I went on across the rich Shansi plain. Now in the springtime -in the golden sunshine the wheat was just above the ground, turning the -land into one vivid green, the sky was a cloudless blue, and all was -bathed in the golden sunshine of Northern China. The air was clear and -invigorating as champagne. “Every prospect pleases,” as the hymn says, -“and only man is vile.” He wasn't vile; really I think he was a very -good fellow in his own way, which was in a dimension into which I -have never and am never likely to enter, but he was certainly unclean, -ignorant, a serf, poverty-stricken with a poverty we hardly conceive of -in the West, and the farther away I found myself from T'ai Yuan Fu the -more friendly did I find him. This country was not like England, where -until the last four years has been in the memory of our fathers and our -fathers' fathers only peace. Even now, now as I write, when the World -War is on, an air raid is the worst that has befallen the home-staying -citizens of Britain. But Shansi has been raided again and again. Still -the land was tilled, well tilled; on every hand were men working hard, -working from dawn to dark, and working, to a stranger's eyes, for the -good of the community, for the fields are not divided by hedge or fence; -there is an occasional poplar or elm, and there are graves everywhere, -but there is nothing to show where Wang's land ends and Lui's begins. -All through the cultivated land wanders, apparently without object, the -zigzag track of sand and ruts and stones known as the Great South -Road, impossible for anything with wheels but a Chinese cart, and often -impossible for that. There are no wayside cottages, nothing save those -few trees to break the monotony, only here and there is a village -sheltering behind high walls, sometimes of mud, but generally of brick, -and stout, substantial brick at that; and if, as is not infrequent, -there is a farmhouse alone, it, too, is behind high brick walls, built -like a baronial castle of mediaeval times, with a look-out tower and -room behind the walls not only for the owner's family even unto the -third and fourth generation, but for all his hinds and his dependents -as well. The whole is built evidently with a view to defence, and built -apparently to last for hundreds of years. For Shansi is worth raiding. -There is oil and there is wheat in abundance. There is money too, much -of which comes from Mongolia and Manchuria. The bankers (the Shansi men -are called the Jews of China) wander across and trade far into Russian -territory while still their home is in agricultural Shansi, and certain -it is that any disturbances in these countries, even in Russia, affect -the prosperity of Shansi. I wonder if the Russian Revolution has been -felt there. Very probably. - -Shansi is rich in other things too not as yet appreciated by the -Chinaman. She has iron and copper and coal that has barely been touched, -for the popular feeling is against mining. They say that no part of the -globe contains such stores of coal. I hesitate about quoting a German, -but they told me that Baron Reichthoffen has said that this province has -enough coal to supply the world for two thousand years at the present -rate of consumption. I haven't the faintest notion whether the Baron's -opinion is worth anything, but if it is, it is no wonder that Germany, -with her eye for ever on the main chance, has felt deeply being thrust -out of China. - -With ample coal, and with iron alongside it, what might not Shansi be -worth to exploit! - -Ki Hsien is a little walled town five _li_ round. Roughly three _li_ -make a mile, but it is a little doubtful. For instance, from Taiku to Ki -Hsien is fifty li, and that fifty _li_ is sixteen miles, from Ki Hsien -to Ping Yao is also fifty li, but that is only fourteen English miles. -The land, say the Chinese, explaining this discrepancy, was measured in -time of famine when it wasn't of any value! A very Chinese explanation. - -The city of Ki Hsien is very, very crowded; there were hundreds of tiny -courtyards and flat roofs. In the picture of the missionary's house I -have not been able to get the roof in because the courtyard--and it -was a fairly large courtyard as courtyards in the city go--was not -big enough. I stood as far away as I possibly could. Mr and Mrs Falls -belonged to the Chinese Inland Mission and the house they lived in was -over three hundred years old. Like many of the houses in Shansi, it -was two storeys high and, strangely enough, a thing I have never seen -anywhere else, the floors upstairs were of brick. - -I do not know how I would like to live in such a crowded community, but -it has its advantages on occasion. At the time of the revolution, -when those missionaries who had come through the Boxer times were all -troubled and anxious about their future, the Falls decided to stay on -at their station, and a rich native doctor, a heathen, but a friend, who -lived next door, commended that decision. - -“Why go away?” said he. “Your courtyard adjoins mine. If there is -trouble we put up a ladder and you come over to us.” - -And there was hint of trouble then. As we sat at supper there came in -the Chinese postman in his shabby uniform of dirty blue and white, with -his large military cap pushed on the back of his head, and he brought -to the Falls a letter from Dr Edwards, the missionary doctor all foreign -T'ai Yuan Fu thought I ought to meet. - -When I was within reach of the Peking foreign daily papers they -mentioned Pai Lang as one might mention a burglar in London, sandwiching -him in between the last racing fixtures or the latest Cinema attraction, -but from a little walled town within a day's march of Hsi An Fu the -veteran missionary wrote very differently, and we in this other little -walled town read breathlessly. - -White Wolf had surrounded Hsi An Fu, he said; it was impossible to get -there and he was returning. - -The darkness had fallen, the lamp in the middle of the table threw a -light on the letter and on the faces of the middle-aged missionary -and his wife who pored over it. It might mean so much to them. It -undoubtedly meant much to their friends in Hsi An Fu, and it meant much -to me, the outsider who had but an hour ago walked into their lives. -For I began to fear lest this robber might affect me after all, lest in -coming north I was not going to outflank him. According to Dr Edwards, -he had already taken a little walled city a hundred li--about a day's -journey--north-west of Hsi An Fu, and when 'White Wolf took a town it -meant murder and rapine. And sitting there in the old Chinese room these -two people who knew China told me in no measured terms what might happen -to a woman travelling alone in disturbed country. - -Missionaries, they said, never left their stations when the country was -disturbed, they were safer at home, surrounded by their friends. Once -the country is raided by a robber band--and remember this is no uncommon -thing in China--all the bad characters in the country come to the fore, -and robber bands that have nothing to do with the original one spring -into existence, the cities shut their gates to all strangers, and -passports are so much waste paper. Between ourselves, I have a feeling -they always are in China. I could hardly tell the difference between -mine and my agreement with my muleteers, and I have an uneasy feeling -that occasionally the agreement was presented when it should have been -the passport. - -Now no one could be certain whether Pai Lang intended to take Lan Chou -Fu, but it looked as if that were his objective. If he took the city -it would not be much good my getting there, because the bankers would -certainly not be able to supply me with money; even if he only raided -the country round, it would be so disturbed that my muleteers would be -bound to take alarm. If they left me, and they certainly would leave me -if they thought there was a chance of their mules being taken, I should -be done. It would spell finish not only to the expedition but to my -life. A foreigner, especially a woman without money and without friends, -would be helpless in China. Why should the people help her? It takes -them all they know to keep their own heads above water. And Kansu was -always turbulent; it only wanted a match to set the fire alight. Air and -Mrs Falls--bless them for their kindness and interest!--thought I should -be mad to venture. - -[Illustration: 0068] - -[Illustration: 0069] - -[Illustration: 0070] - -So there in the sitting-room which had been planned for a merchant -prince and had come into the possession of these two who desired to -bring the religion of the West to China I sat and discussed this new -obstacle. After coming so far, laying out so much money, could I turn -back when danger did not directly press? I felt I could not. And yet my -hosts pointed out to me that if danger did directly threaten I would not -be able to get away. If Pai Lang did take Lan Chou Fu, or even if he -did not, it might well be worth his while to turn east and raid fertile -Shansi. In a little town like Ki Hsien there was loot well worth having. -In the revolution a banker there was held to ransom, and paid, as the -people put it, thirty times ten thousand taels (a tael is roughly three -shillings, according to the price of silver), and they said it was but -a trifle to him--a flea-bite, I believe, was the exact term--and I -ean well believe, in the multitude of worse parasites that afflict the -average Chinaman, a flea-bite means much less than it does in England. - -However, I didn't feel like giving up just yet, so I decided to go on to -Fen Chou Fu, where was a big American mission, and see what they had to -say about the matter. If then I had to flee, the missionaries would very -likely be fleeing too, and I should have company. - -And the very next day I had what I took for a warning. - -It was a gorgeous day, a cloudless blue sky and brilliant sunshine, and -I passed too many things of interest worth photographing. There were -some extraordinary tombs, there was a quaint village gateway--the Gate -of Everlasting Peace they call it--but I was glad to get back into my -litter and hoped to stay there for a little, for getting out of a litter -presents some difficulties unless you are very active indeed. It is -a good long drop across the shafts on to the ground; the only other -alternative is to drop down behind the mule's hind quarters and slip out -under those shafts, but I never had sufficient confidence in my mule to -do that, so that I generally ealled upon Tsài Chih Fu to lift me down. -I had set out full of tremors, but taking photographs of the peaceful -scenes soothed my ruffled nerves. I persuaded myself my fears had been -born of the night and the dread of loneliness which sometimes overtakes -me when I am in company and thinking of setting out alone, leaving -kindly faces behind. - -And then I came upon it, the first sign of unrest. - -The winding road rose a little and I could see right ahead of us a great -crowd of people evidently much agitated, and I called to Mr Wang to know -what was the matter. - -“Repeat, please,” said he as usual, and then rode forward and came baek -saying, “I do not know the word.” - -“What word?” - -“What is a lot of people and a dead man?” - -“Ah!” said I, jumping to conclusions unwarrantably, “that is a funeral.” - -“A funeral!” said he triumphantly. “I have learned a new word.” - -Mr Wang was always learning a new word and rejoicing over it, but, as I -had hired him as a finished product, I hardly think it was unreasonable -of me to be aggrieved, and to feel that I was paying him a salary for -the pleasure of teaching him English. However, on this occasion his -triumph was short-lived. . - -“Would you like to see the funeral?” he said. - -I intimated that I would. My stalwart master of transport lifted me down -and the crowded people made a lane for me to pass through, and half of -them turned their attention to me, for though there were missionaries in -the big towns, a foreigner was a sight to these country people, and, Mr -Wang going first, we arrived at a man with his head cut off! Mercifully -he was mixed up with a good deal of matting and planks, but still there -was no mistaking the poor dead feet in their worn Chinese shoes turned -up to the sky. - -Considering we are mortal, it is extraordinary how seldom the ordinary -person looks upon death. Always it comes with a shock. At least it did. -I suppose this war has accustomed some of us to the sight, so that we -take the result of the meeting of mortal man with his last friend on -earth more as a matter of eourse, as indeed it should be taken. Of -course I know this is one of the results of the war. - -My sister's son, staying with me after six months in hospital, -consequent upon a wound at Gallipoli, came home from a stroll one day -and reported that he had seen nothing, and then at dinner that night -mentioned in a casual manner that he had seen two dead men being carried -out of a large building and put in a motor ear. - -I said in astonishment: - -“They couldn't have been dead!” - -“Of course they were. Do you think I don't know dead men when I see -them? I've seen plenty.” - -So many that the sight of a couple in the streets of a quiet little -country town seemed not even an occasion for remark. - -But I was not even accustomed to thinking of dead men and I turned upon -Mr Wang angrily: - -“But that isn't a funeral. That's a corpse,” and once more to my -irritation he rejoiced over a new word. - -“Who killed him?” I asked. - -“They think an enemy has done this thing,” said he sententiously and -unnecessarily, as, ignorant as I am of tilings Chinese, I should hardly -think even they could have called it a friendly action. The body had -been found the day before, and the people were much troubled about it. -An official from Ping Yow--a coroner, I suppose we should call him--was -coming out to inquire about it, and because the sun was already hot the -people had raised a little screen of matting with a table and chairs -where he could sit to hold inquiry. - -And here was the thing the missionaries had warned me against. Trouble, -said they, always begins by the finding of dead bodies that cannot be -accounted for, and this body was on the Great South Road. It might -be only a case of common murder such as one might perchance meet in -Piccadilly, possibly it was due to the bands of soldiers that were -pouring into the country--to defend the crossings of the Yellow -River, some people said--but it was to me an emphatic reminder that the -warnings of Mr and Mrs Falls had not been given lightly, and I meditated -upon it all the way to Ping Yow. - -All day long the soldiers had been pouring through Ki Hsien, all night -long they poured through the suburbs of Ping Yow. Not through the town -itself--the townspeople were not going to allow that if they could help -themselves; and as it was evidently a forced march and the regiments -were travelling by night, they could help themselves, for every city -gate is shut at sundown. The China Inland Mission had a station at an -old camel inn in the eastern suburb, and there the missionary's young -wife was alone with five young children, babies all of them, and there I -found her. I think she was very glad to see me, anyhow I was someone to -discuss things with, and we two women talked and talked over our evening -meal. She was a tall, pretty young woman--not even the ugly Chinese -dress and her hair drawn back, not a hair out of place, Chinese fashion, -could disguise her pathetic beauty. And she was a countrywoman of mine, -born and brought up in the same state, Victoria, and her native town was -Ararat, green and fresh among the hills. And how she talked Australia! -What a beautiful land it was! And the people! The free, independent -people! The women who walked easily and feared no man! To thoroughly -appreciate a democratic country you should dwell in effete China. -But she feared too, this woman, feared for herself and her five tiny -children. It would be no easy job to get away. I told her of the dead -man I had seen--how should I not tell her?--and she trembled. - -“Very likely it is the soldiers,” she said. “I am afraid of the Chinese -soldiers.” And so am I in bulk, though taken singly they seem sueh -harmless little chaps. - -“When the willow is green and the apricot yellow in the fifth moon,” - said a metrical inscription on a stone dug up at Nankin in that -year--the fatal year 1914--“terrible things will happen in the land of -Han.” Terrible things, it seems to me, always happen in the land of Han; -but if it spoke for the great world beyond, truly the stone spoke truth, -though we did not know it then. - -In the evening back from the country where he had been preaching for the -last day or two came my Australian's husband, and there also came in to -see the stranger two missionaries from the other side of the town. -They sat there, these men and women of British race, dressed in the -outlandish costume of the people around them--a foolish fashion, it -seems to me, for a European in unadulterated Chinese dress looks as ugly -and out of place as a Chinese in a stiff collar and a bowler hat. And -all the evening we discussed the soldiers and the dead man I had seen, -and opinions differed as to the portent. - -It is true, said one of them who had been in the country many years, and -was a missionary pure and simple, with eyes for nothing but the work he -had in hand--which is probably the way to work for success--that a -dead body, particularly a dead body by the highroad, is often a sign of -unrest, but again, quite as often it means no more than a dead body -in any other place. If he had turned back for every dead body he had -seen---- - -Well, I thought I would not turn back either. Not yet, at least. - -Never was I sorrier for missionaries, I who have always written against -missionaries, than I was for this young countrywoman of mine who never -thought of being sorry for herself. It was a big ugly mission compound, -the rooms, opening one into another, were plain and undecorated, and the -little children as a great treat watered the flowers that struggled up -among the stones of the dusty courtyard, and the very watering-can was -made with Chinese ingenuity from an old kerosene tin. It seemed to me -those little children would have had such a much better chance -growing up in their mother's land, or in their father's land--he was a -Canadian--among the free peoples of the earth. But who am I, to judge? -No one in the world, it seems to me, wants help so much as the poorer -Chinese, whose life is one long battle with disease and poverty; and -perhaps these poorer missionaries help a little, a very little; but the -poorer the mission the poorer the class they reach, and the sacrifice, -as I saw it here, is so great. - -Next morning we arose early, and I breakfasted with my host and hostess -and their five children. The children's grace rings in my ears yet, -always I think it will ring there, the childish voices sung it with such -fervour and such faith: - - “Every day, every day, we bless Thee, we bless Thee, - - We praise Thy Name, we praise Thy Name, - - For ever and for ever!” - -There in the heart of China these little children, who had, it seemed to -me, so very little to be grateful for, thanked their God with all their -hearts, and when their elders with the same simple fervour went down on -their knees and asked their God to guide and help the stranger and set -her on her way, though it was against all my received canons of good -taste, what could I do but be simply grateful. - -Ping Yow is a large town set in the midst of a wheatgrowing country, and -it is built in the shape of a turtle, at least so I was told. I could -see for myself that its walls were not the usual four-square set to the -points of the compass, but seemed irregular, with many little towers -upon them. These towers, it seems, were built in memory of the teachers -of Confucius--this is the only intimation I have had that he -had seventy-two; and there were over three thousand small -excrescences--again I only repeat what I was told; I did not count them, -and if I had I would surely have counted them wrong--like sentry-boxes -in memory of his disciples. I do not know why Ping Yow thus dedicates -itself to the memory of the great sage. It needs something to commend -it, for it remains in my mind as a bare, ugly, crowded town, with an -extra amount of dust and dirt and heat, and no green thing to break the -monotony. - -And I set forth, and in spite of all I still faced West. - -[Illustration: 0079] - -[Illustration: 0080] - - - - -CHAPTER IV--A CITY UNDER THE HILLS - -In my wanderings across Shansi I came in contact with two missionary -systems run with the same object in view but carried out in -diametrically opposite ways. Of course I speak as an outsider. I -criticise as one who only looks on, but after all it is an old saw that -the onlooker sees most of the game. There are, of course, many missions -in China, and I often feel that if the Chinaman were not by nature a -philosopher he would sometimes be a little confused by salvation offered -him by foreigners of all sects and classes, ranging from Roman Catholics -to Seventh Day Adventists. Personally I have received much kindness -from English Baptists, from the China Inland Mission and from American -Presbyterians and Congregationalists. Amongst them all I--who frankly -do not believe in missions, believing that the children at home -should first be fed--found much to admire, much individual courage and -sacrifice, but for the systems, I felt the American missions were the -most efficient, far the most likely to attain the end in view. - -The Chinaman, to begin with, sees no necessity for his own conversion. -Unlike the ordinary black man, he neither admires nor envies the white -man, and is given to thinking his own ways are infinitely preferable. -But the Chinaman is a man of sound common-sense, he immensely admires -efficiency, he is a great believer in education, and when a mission -comes to him fully equipped with doctors, nurses and hospitals, teachers -and schools, he, once he has overcome his dread of anything new, begins -to avail himself first of the doctor and the hospital, for the sore need -of China is for medical attendance, and then of the schools. Then comes -conversion. They tell me that there are many genuine converts. I have -only noticed that the great rich American missions rake in converts by -tens and twenties, where they come dribbling in in units to the faith -missions, which offer no such advantages as medical attendance or -tuition. The faith missionaries work hard enough. I have seen a woman -just come in from a week's missionary tour in a district where, she -explained, she had slept on the k'angs with the other women of the -household, and she was stripping off her clothes most carefully and -combing her long hair with a tooth-comb, because all women of the class -she visited among were afflicted with those little parasites that we do -not mention. The Chinese have a proverb that “the Empress herself has -three,” so it is no shame. She thought nothing of her sacrifice, that -was what she had come for, everyone else was prepared to do the same; -but when so much is given I like to see great results, as in the -American missions. They are rich, and the Chinaman, with a few glaring -exceptions, is a very practical person. To ask him to change his faith -for good that will work out in another world is asking rather much of -him. If he is going to do so he feels he may as well have a God who will -give him something in return for being outcast. At least that is the way -I read the results. Look at Fen Chou, for instance, where the Americans -are thriving and a power in the town, and look at Yung Ning Chou, -farther west, where a Scandinavian faith mission has been established -for over twenty years. They may have a few adherents in the country -round, but in the city itself--a city of merchants--they have, I -believe, not made a single convert. - -Of course the China Inland Mission does not lay itself out to be rich. -However many subscriptions come in, the individual missionary gets no -more than fifty pounds a year; if more money comes, more missionaries -are established, if less, then the luckless individual missionary gets -as much of the fifty pounds as funds allow. The Founder of the Faith was -poor and lowly, therefore the missionaries must follow in His footsteps. -I understand the reason, the nobility, that lies in the sacrifice -implied when men and women give their lives for their faith, but not -only do I like best the results of the American system, but I dislike -exceedingly that a European should be poor in an Oriental country. If -missionaries must go to China, I like them to go for the benefit of the -Chinese and for the honour and glory of the race to which they belong, -and not for the good of their own souls. - -I came into Fen Chou Fu and went straight to the large compound of the -American missionaries, three men and three women from Oberlin College, -Ohio. They had a hospital, they had a school, they had a kindergarten, -the whole compound was a flourishing centre of industry. They teach -their faith, for that is what they have come out for, but also they -teach the manifold knowledge of the West. Sanitation and hygiene -loom large in their curriculum, and heaven knows, without taking into -consideration any future life, they must be a blessing to those men and -women who under cruel conditions must see this life through. These six -missionaries at Fen Chou Fu do their best to improve those conditions -with a practical American common-sense and thoroughness that won my -admiration. - -Fen Chou Fu, unlike T'ai Yuan Fu, is friendly, and has always been -friendly, to the foreigner; even during the Boxer trouble they were -loath to kill their missionaries, and when the order came that they were -to be slain, declined to allow it to be done within their walls, but -sent them out, and they were killed about seven miles outside the -city--a very Chinese way of freeing themselves from blood-guiltiness. - -The town struck me as curiously peaceful after the unrest and the -never-ending talk of riot, robbery and murder I had heard all along -the road. The weather was getting warm and we all sat at supper on the -verandah of Dr Watson's house, with the lamps shedding a subdued light -on the table, and the sounds of the city coming to us softened by the -distance, and Mr Watt Pye assured me he had been out in the country and -there was nothing to fear, nothing. The Chinaman as he had seen him had -many sins, at least errors of conduct that a missionary counts sin, but -as far as he knew I might go safely to the Russian border. He had not -been in the country very long, not, I fancy, a fifth of the time Dr -Edwards had been there, but, listening to him, I hoped once more. - -The town is old. It was going as a city in 2205 b.c., and it is quite -unlike any other I have come across in China. It is a small square city -about nine _li_ round, and on each of the four sides are suburbs, also -walled. Between them and the city are the gully-like roads leading to -the gates. The eastern suburb is nearly twice as large as the main city, -and is surrounded by a high brick wall, but the other suburbs have only -walls like huge banks of clay, on the top the grass grows, and on my way -in I was not surprised to see on top of this clay-bank a flock of sheep -browsing. It seemed a very appropriate place for sheep, for at first -sight there is nothing to show that this was the top of a town wall. - -When the Manehus drove out the Mings, the vanquished Imperial family -took refuge in this western town and rebuilt the walls, which had been -allowed to fall into disrepair, and they set about the job in a fashion -worthy of Babylon itself. The bricks were made seven miles away in the -hills, and passed from hand to hand down a long line of men till they -reached their destination and were laid one on top of another to face -the great clay-bank forty-six feet high that guards the city. According -to Chinese ideas, the city needs guarding not from human enemies only. -The mountains to the west and north overshadow it, and all manner of -evil influences come from the north, and the people fear greatly -their effect upon the town. It was possible it might never get a good -magistrate, or that, having got one, he might die, and therefore they -took every precaution they could to ward off such a calamity. Gods they -put in their watch tower over the gate, and they sit there still, carved -wooden figures, a great fat god--if a city is to be prosperous must not -its god be prosperous too?--surrounded by lesser satellites. Some are -fallen now, and the birds of the air roost upon them, and the dust and -the cobwebs have gathered upon them, but not yet will they be cleared -away. In a chamber below are rusty old-world cannon flung aside in a -heap as so much useless lumber, and, below, all the busy traffic of -the city passes in and out beneath the arches of the gateway. In that -gateway are two upright stones between whieh all wheeled traffic must -pass, the distance between these stones marking the length of the axle -allowed by the narrow city streets. Any vehicle having a greater length -of axle cannot pass in. No mere words can describe the awful condition -of the roads of Shansi, and to lessen as far as possible the chance of -an upset the country man makes his axle very wide, and, knowing this, -the town man notifies at his gates the width of the vehicle that can -pass in his streets. No other can enter. - -Besides the gods over the gateway, Fen Chou Fu, owing to its peculiar -position under the hills, requires other guarding, and there are two -tall bronze phoenixes on the wall close to the northern watch tower. I -was quite pleased to make the acquaintance of a phoenix, as, though I -have read about them, I had never met them before. In Fen Chou Fu it -appears that a phoenix is between thirty and forty feet high, built like -a comic representation of a chicken, with a long curly neck and a cock's -comb upon his head. It would indeed be a churlish, evil spirit who was -not moved to laughter at the sight. But though the form is crude, on -the bronze bases and on the birds themselves are worked beautifully the -details of a long story. Dragons and foxes and rabbits, and many strange -symbols that I do not understand come into it, but how they help to -guard the city, except by pleasing the gods or amusing the evil spirits, -I must confess I cannot imagine. Certainly the city fathers omit -the most necessary care: once the walls are finished, the mason is -apparently never called in, and they are drifting to decay. Everywhere -the bricks are falling out, and when I was there in the springtime the -birds of the air found there a secure resting-place. There were crows -and hawks and magpies and whistling kites popping in and out of the -holes so made, in their beaks straws and twigs for the making of their -nests. They would be secure probably in any case, for the Chinese love -birds, but here they are doubly secure, for only with difficulty and by -the aid of a long rope could any man possibly reach them. - -The ramps up to those walls were extremely steep--it was a -heart-breaking process to get on top--but Buchanan and I, accompanied by -the master of transport carrying the camera, and often by Mr Leete, one -of the missionaries, took exercise there; for in a walled city in the -narrow streets there is seldom enough air for my taste. The climate here -is roughly summer and winter, for though so short a while ago it had -been freezing at night, already it was very hot in the middle of -the day, and the dust rose up from the narrow streets in clouds. A -particularly bad cloud of dust generally indicated pigs, which travel a -good deal in Northern China, even as sheep and cattle do in Australia. -In Shantung a man sets out with a herd of pigs and travels them slowly -west, very slowly, and they feed along the wayside, though what they -feed on heaven only knows, for it looks to me as though there is -nothing, still possibly they pick up something, and I suppose the idea -is that they arrive at the various places in time for the harvest, or -when grain and products are cheapest. There are inns solely given over -to pigs and their drivers in Shansi, and the stench outside some of -those in Fen Chou Fu was just a little taller than the average smell, -and the average smell in a Chinese city is something to be always -remembered. There were other things to be seen from the top of the wall -too--long lines of camels bearing merchandise to and from the town, -donkeys, mules, carts, all churning up the dust of the unkempt roadway, -small-footed women seated in their doorways looking out upon the life of -the streets, riding donkeys or peeping out of the tilts of the carts. I -could see into the courtyards of the well-to-do, with their little -ponds and bridges and gardens. All the life of the city lay beneath us. -Possibly that is why one meets so very, very seldom any Chinese on the -wall--it may be, it probably is, I should think, bad taste to look into -your neighbour's courtyard. - -And the wall justified its existence, mediaeval and out of date as it -seemed to me. There along the top at intervals were little heaps of -good-sized stones, placed there by the magistrate in the revolution for -the defence of the town. At first I smiled and thought how primeval, but -looking down into the road nearly fifty feet below, I realised that a -big stone flung by a good hefty fist from the top of that wall was a -weapon by no means to be despised. - -But walls, if often a protection, are sometimes a danger in more ways -than in shutting out the fresh air. The summer rains in North China are -heavy, and Fen Chou Fu holds water like a bucket. The only outlets are -the narrow gateways, and the waters rise and rise. A short time before I -came there all the eastern quarter of the town was flooded so deep that -a woman was drowned. At last the waters escaped through the eastern -gate, only to be banked up by the great ash-heaps, the product of -centuries, the waste rubbish of the town, that are just outside the wall -of the eastern suburb. It took a long, long while for those flood waters -to percolate through the gateway of the suburb and find a resting-place -at last in a swamp the other side of that long-suffering town. I must -confess that this is one of the drawbacks to a walled town that has -never before occurred to me, though to stand there and look at those -great gates, those solid walls, made me feel as if I had somehow -wandered into the fourth dimension, so out of my world were they. - -There was a great fair in a Taoist temple and one day Mr Leete and -I, with his teacher and my servant, attended. A wonderful thing is a -Chinese fair in a temple. I do not yet understand the exact object of -these fairs, though I have attended a good many of them. Whether they -help the funds of the temple as a bazaar is supposed to help a church in -this country, I cannot say. A temple in China usually consists of a set -of buildings often in different courtyards behind one enclosing wall, -and these buildings are not only temples to the gods, but living-rooms -which are often let to suitable tenants, and, generally speaking, if -the stranger knows his way about--I never did--he can get in a temple -accommodation for himself and his servants, far superior accommodation -to that offered in the inns. It costs a little more, but everything is -so cheap that makes no difference to the foreigner. The Taoist temple -the day I went there was simply humming with life; there were stalls -everywhere, and crowds of people buying, selling or merely gossiping -and looking on. I took a picture of some ladies of easy virtue with gay -dresses and gaily painted faces, tottering about, poor things, on their -maimed feet, and at the same spot, close against the altar of the god, -I took a picture of the priest. With much hesitation he consented to -stand. He had in his hand some fortune-telling sticks, but did not -dare hold them while his portrait was being taken. However, Mr Leete's -teacher was a bold, brave, enlightened man--in a foreign helmet--and he -held the sticks, and the two came out in the picture together. I trust -no subsequent harm came to the daring man. - -[Illustration: 0089] - -[Illustration: 0090] - -In Fen Chou Fu I could have walked about the town alone unmolested. I -never did, because it would have been undignified and often awkward, as -I could not speak the language, but the people were invariably friendly. -On the whole, there was not very much to see. The sun poured down day -after day in a cloudless sky, and the narrow streets, faced with stalls -or blank grey brick walls enclosing the compounds, were dusty and -uneven, with the ruts still there that had been made when the ground was -softened by the summer rains of the year before. Away to the south-east -was a great pagoda, the second tallest in China, a landmark that can be -seen for many a long mile across the plain. This, like the phoenixes, is -_feng shui_. I have never grasped the inwardness of pagodas, which are -dotted in apparently a casual manner about the landscape. An immense -amount of labour must have been expended upon them, and they do not -appear to serve any useful purpose. This one at Fen Chou Fu is meant to -balance after a fashion the phoenixes on the northern wall and afford -protection for the southern approach to the city. I don't know that it -was used for any other purpose. It stood there, tall and commanding, -dwarfing everything else within sight. Neither do I know the purpose of -the literary tower which stands on the southeast corner of the wall. It -denotes that the town either has or hopes to have a literary man of high -standing among its inhabitants. But to look for the use in all things -Chinese would be foolish; much labour is expended on work that can be -only for artistic purposes. To walk through a Chinese town, in spite of -filth, in spite of neglect and disrepair, is to feel that the Chinaman -is an artist to his finger-tips. - -The gate to the American church in Fen Chou Fu, for instance, was a -circle, a thing of strange beauty. Imagine such a gate in an English -town, and yet here it seemed quite natural and very beautiful. They had -no bell, why I do not know, perhaps because every temple in China has -a plenitude of bells hanging from its eaves and making the air musical -when the faintest breath of wind stirs and missionaries are anxious to -dissociate themselves in every way from practices they call idolatry, -even when those practices seem to an outsider like myself rather -attractive. At any rate, to summon the faithful to church a man beats a -gong. - -But there is one institution of Fen Chou Fu which is decidedly -utilitarian, and that is the wells in the northwestern corner. A -Chinaman, I should say, certainly uses on the average less water than -the majority of humanity; a bath when he is three days old, a bath when -he is married, and after that he can comfortably last till he is dead, -is the generally received idea of his ablutions, but he does want -a little water to carry on life, and in this corner of the town are -situated the wells which supply that necessary. It is rather brackish, -but it is still drinkable, and it is all that the city gets. They were -a never-ending source of interest to me. They were established in those -far-away days before history began--perhaps the presence of the water -here was the reason for the building of the town--and they have been -here ever since. The mouths are builded over with masonry, and year in -and year out have come those self-same carts with solid wheels, drawn -by a harnessed ox or an ox and a mule, bearing the barrels to be filled -with water. Down through all the ages those self-same men, dressed in -blue cotton that has worn to a dingy drab, with a wisp of like stuff -tied round their heads to protect them from the dust or the cold or the -sun, have driven those oxen and drawn that water. Really and truly our -own water, that comes to us, hot and cold, so easily by the turning of a -tap, is much more wonderful and interesting, but that I take as a matter -of course, while I never tired of watching those prehistoric carts. It -was in rather a desolate corner of the town too. The high walls rose up -and frowned upon it, the inside of the walls where there was no brick, -only crumbling clay with shrubs and creepers just bursting into leaf and -little paths that a goat or an active boy might negotiate meandering up -to the top. And to get to that part I had to pass the ruins of the old -yamen razed to the ground when the Government repented them of the -Boxer atrocities, and razed so effectually that only the two gate-posts, -fashioned like lions, Chinese architectural lions, survive. A curse is -on the place, the people say; anyhow when I visited it fourteen years -later no effort had been made to rebuild. Not for want of labour, -surely. There are no trade unions in China, and daily from dawn to dark -in Fen Chou Fu I saw the bricklayers' labourers trotting along, bringing -supplies to the men who were building, in the streets I met men carrying -water to the houses in buckets, and now in the springtime there was a -never-ending supply of small boys, clad in trousers only, or without -even those, bearing, slung from each end of a bamboo, supplies of -firewood, or rather of such scraps as in any other land would have been -counted scarce worth the cost of transport. Any day too I might expect -to meet a coffin being borne along, not secretly and by night as we take -one to a house, but proudly borne in the open daylight, for everyone -knows a coffin is the most thoughtful and kindly as well as often the -most expensive of gifts. - -While here I attended a wedding. Twice have I attended a Chinese -wedding. The first was at Pao Ting Fu at Christmas time, and the -contracting parties were an evangelist of the church who in his lay -capacity was a strapping big laundryman and one of the girls in Miss -Newton's school. They had never spoken to one another, that would have -been a frightful breach of decorum, but as they went to the same church, -where there was no screen between the men and the women, as there is in -many Chinese churches, it is possible they knew each other by sight. It -is curious how in some things the missionaries conform to Chinese ideas -and in others decline to yield an inch. In Pao Ting Fu no church member -was allowed to smoke, but the women were kept carefully in retirement, -and the schoolmistress, herself an unmarried woman, and the doctor's -wife arranged marriages for such of the girls as came under their -guardianship. Of course I see the reason for that: in the present -state of Chinese society no other method would be possible, for these -schoolgirls, all the more because they had a little scholarship and -education, unless their future had been arranged for, would have been a -temptation and a prey for all the young men around, and even with their -careful education--and it was a careful education; Miss Newton was a -woman in a thousand, I always grudged her to the Chinese--were entirely -unfitted to take care of themselves. - -Still it always made me smile to see these two women, middle-class -Americans from Virginia, good-looking and kindly, with a keen sense of -humour, gravely discussing the eligible young men around the mission and -the girls who were most suitable for them. It was the most barefaced and -open match-making I have ever seen. But generally, I believe, they were -very successful, for this one thing is certain, they had the welfare of -the girls at heart. - -And this was one of the matches they had arranged. It is on record that -on this special occasion the bridegroom, with the consent and connivance -of the schoolmistress, had written to the bride exhorting her to -diligence, and pointing out how good a thing it was that a woman should -be well read and cultured. And seeing that she came of very poor people -she might well be counted one of the fortunate ones of the earth, for -the bridegroom was educating her. The ignorance of the average Chinese -woman in far higher circles than she came of is appalling. - -Christmas Day was chosen for the ceremony, and Christmas Day was a -glorious winter's day, with golden sunshine for the bride, and the air, -the keen, invigorating air of Northern China, was sparkling with frost. -Now, in contrast to the next wedding I attended, this wedding was on -so-called Western lines; but the Chinese is no slavish imitator, he -changes, but he changes after his own fashion. The church was decorated -by devout Chinese Christians with results which to 'Western eyes were -a little weird and outré. Over the platform that in an Anglican church -would be the altar was a bank of greenery, very pretty, with flowers -dotted all over it, and on it Chinese characters in cotton wool, “Earth -rejoices, heaven sings,” and across that again was a festoon of small -flags of all nations, while from side to side of the church were -slung garlands of gaily coloured paper in the five colours of the new -republic, and when I think of the time and patience that went to -the making of those garlands I was quite sorry they reminded me of -fly-catchers. But the crowning decoration was the Chinese angel that -hovered over all. This being was clad in white, a nurse's apron was -used, girt in at the waist, foreign fashion, and I grieve to say they -did not give her much breathing-space, though they tucked a pink flower -in her belt. Great white paper wings were spread out behind, and from -her head, framing the decidedly Mongolian countenance, were flowing -golden curls, made by the ingenious decorators of singed cotton wool. - -One o'clock was fixed for the wedding, and at a quarter to one the -church was full. - -They did not have the red chair for the bride. The consensus of opinion -was against it. “It was given up now by the best people in Peking. They -generally had carriages. And anyhow it was a ridiculous expense.” So -it was deeided that the bride should walk. The church was only a -stone's-throw from the schoolhouse where she lived. The bridegroom stood -at the door on the men's side of the church, a tall, stalwart Chinaman, -with his blaek hair sleek and oiled and cut short after the modern -fashion. He was suitably clad in black silk. He reminded me of -“William,” a doll of my childhood who was dressed in the remains of an -old silk umbrella--this is saying nothing against the bridegroom, for -“William” was an eminently superior doll, and always looked his very -best if a little smug occasionally. But if a gentleman who has attained -to the proud position of laundryman and evangelist, and is marrying the -girl he has himself at great expense educated for the position, has not -a right to look a little smug, I don't know who has. Beside him stood -his special friend, the chief Chinese evangelist, who had himself been -married four months before. At the organ sat the American doctor's -pretty young wife, and as the word was passed, “The bride is coming!” - she struck up the wedding march, and all the women's eyes turned to -the women's door, while the men, who would not commit such a breach of -decorum as to look, stared steadily ahead. - -But the wedding march had been played over and over again before she -did come, resplendent and veiled, after the foreign fashion, in white -mosquito netting, with pink and blue flowers in her hair, and another -bunch in her hand. The bridegroom had wished her to wear silk on this -great occasion, so he had hired the clothes, a green silk skirt and a -bronze satin brocade coat. - -A model of Chinese decorum was that bride. Her head under the white veil -was bent, her eyes were glued to the ground, and not a muscle of her -body moved as she progressed very slowly forward. Presumably she did put -one foot before the other, but she had the appearance of an automaton in -the hands of the women on either side--her mother, a stooping little old -woman, and a tall young woman in a bright blue brocade, the wife of the -bridegroom's special friend. Each grasped her by an arm just above -the elbow and apparently propelled her up the aisle as if she were on -wheels. Up the opposite aisle came the bridegroom, also with his head -bent and his eyes glued to the ground and propelled forward in the same -manner by his friend. - -They met, those two who had never met face to face before, before the -minister, and he performed the short marriage ceremony, and as he said -the closing words the Chinese evangelist became Master of Ceremonies. - -“The bridegroom and bride,” said he, “'will bow to each other once in -the new style.” - -The bride and groom standing before the minister bowed deeply to each -other in the new style. - -“They will bow a second time,” and they bowed again. - -“They will bow a third time,” and once more they bowed low. - -“They will now bow to the minister,” and they turned like well-drilled -soldiers and bowed to the white-haired man who had married them. - -“They will now bow to the audience,” and they faced the people and -bowed deeply, and everybody in that congregation rose and returned the -salutation. - -“And now the audience will bow to the bride and bridegroom,” and -with right good will the congregation, Chinese and the two or three -foreigners, rose and saluted the newly married couple, also I presume in -the new style. - -It was over, and to the strains of the wedding march they left the -church, actually together, by way of the women's entrance. But the bride -was not on the groom's arm. That would not have been in accord with -Chinese ideas. The bridegroom marched a little ahead, propelled forward -by his friend, as if he had no means of volition of his own--again -I thought of “William,” long since departed and forgotten till this -moment--and behind came the new wife, thrust forward in the same manner, -still with her eyes on the floor and every muscle stiff as if she too -had been a doll. - -“All the world loves a lover,” but in China, the land of ceremonies, -there are no lovers. This man had gone further than most men in the -wooing of his wife, and they were beginning life together with very fair -chances of success. But even so the girl might not hope for a home of -her own. - -That would have been most unseemly. The evangelist laundryman had not a -mother, but his only sister was taking the place of mother-in-law, and -he and his bride would live with her and her husband. - -[Illustration: 0099] - -[Illustration: 0100] - -The wedding I attended in Fen Chou Fu was quite a different affair. It -was spring, or perhaps I should say early summer, the streets through -which we drove to the old house of one of the Ming princes where dwelt -the bridegroom with his mother were thick with dust, and the sun blazed -down on us. The bridegroom belonged to a respectable well-to-do trading -family, and he wanted a Christian wife because he himself is an active -member of the church, but the Christian church at Fen Chou Fu has been -bachelor so long, and the division between the sexes is so strait, that -there are about fifty available girls to between eight and nine hundred -young men, therefore he had to take what he could get, and what he could -get was a pagan little girl about eighteen, for whom he paid thirty -Mexican dollars, roughly a little under three pounds. I, a Greek, who -do not care much what any man's religion is so long as he live a decent -life, understand the desire of that man for a Christian wife, for -that means here in the interior that she will have received a little -education, will be able to read and write and do arithmetic, and will -know something of cleanliness and hygiene. - -The great day arrived, and the missionaries and I were invited to the -bridegroom's house for the ceremony and the feast that was to follow. -The entertainment began about eight o'clock in the morning, but we -arrived a little after noon, and we two women, Miss Grace Maccomaughey -and I, were ushered through the courtyards till we came to the interior -one, which was crowded with all manner of folks, some in festive array, -some servants in the ordinary blue of the country, and some beggars -in rags who were anticipating the scraps that fall from the rich man's -table, and were having tea and cake already. Overhead the sky was shut -out by all manner of flags and banners with inscriptions in Chinese -characters upon them, and once inside, we made our way towards the house -through a pressing crowd. Opposite the place that perhaps answered for -a front door was a table draped in red, the colour of joy, and on the -table were two long square candles of red wax with Chinese characters -in gold upon them. They were warranted to burn a day and a night, and -between them was a pretty dwarf plant quaintly gnarled and bearing -innumerable white flowers. That table was artistic and pretty, but to -its left was a great pile of coal, and, beside the coal, a stove and a -long table at which a man, blue-clad, shaven and with a queue, was busy -preparing the feast within sight of all. I could have wished the signs -of hospitality had not been so much in evidence, for I could quite -believe that cook had not been washed since he was three days old, and -under the table was a large earthenware bowl full of extremely dirty -water in which were being washed the bowls we would presently use. - -Out came the women of the household to greet us and conduct us to the -bridal chamber, dark and draped with red and without any air to speak -of. It was crowded to suffocation with women in gala costumes, with -bands of black satin embroidered in flowers upon their heads, gay coats -and loose trousers, smiling faces and the tiny feet of all Shansi. It -was quite a relief to sit down on the _k'ang_ opposite to a stout and -cheerful old lady with a beaming face who looked like a well-to-do -farmer's wife. She was a childless widow, however, but she had attained -to the proud position of Bible-woman, receiving a salary of four Mexican -dollars a month, and consequently had a position and station of her -own. In my experience there is nothing like being sure of one's own -importance in the world. It is certainly conducive to happiness. I know -the missionaries, bless them! would say I am taking a wrong view, but -whatever the reason at the back of it all, to them is the honour of -that happy, comfortable-looking Bible-woman. And there are so few -happy-looking women in China! - -We sat on the _k'ang_ and waited for the bride, and we discoursed. My -feet--I never can tuck them under me--clad in good substantial -leather, looked very large beside the tiny ones around me, for even the -Bible-woman's had been bound in her youth, and of course, though they -were unbound now, the broken bones could never come straight, and -the-flesh could not grow between the heel and the toes. She looked at my -feet and I laughed, and she said sententiously, like a true Chinese: - -“The larger the feet the happier the woman.” - -I asked did it hurt when hers were bound. - -“It hurt like anything,” translated the missionary girl beside me, “but -it is all right now.” - -The bride was long in coming, and shortly after four we heard the gongs -and music and crackers that heralded her arrival, and we all went out -to greet her, or rather to stare at her. First came the bridegroom, and -that well-to-do tradesman was a sight worth coming out to see. He wore -a most respectable black satin jacket and a very pretty blue silk -petticoat; round his neck and crossed on his breast was a sash of -orange-red silk, set off with a flaring magenta artificial chrysanthemum -of no mean proportions, and on his head, and somewhat too small for him, -was--a rare headgear in China--a hard black felt hat. From the brim of -that, on either side, rose a wire archway across the crown, on which -were strung ornaments of brass, and I am bound to say that the whole -effect was striking. - -Before the bride came in to be married, out went two women to lift her -veil and smear her face with onion. They explained that the bridegroom's -mother should do this, but the fortune-teller had informed them that -these two women would be antagonistic--which I think I could have -foretold without the aid of any fortune-teller--therefore the rite was -deputed to two other women, one of whom was the kindergarten teacher at -the sehool. Then, with the teacher on one side and a lucky woman with -husband and children living on the other, down through the crowd came -the little bride to her marriage. She was clad in a red robe, much -embroidered, which entirely hid her figure, so that whether she were -fat or slim it was impossible to see, on her head was a brazen crown -entirely covering it, and over her face was a veil of thick bright red -silk. She could neither see nor be seen. Her feet were the tiniest I -have ever seen, they looked about suitable for a baby of twelve months -old. The tiny red shoes were decorated with little green tassels at the -pointed toe and had little baby high heels, and though they say these -feet were probably false, the real ones must have been wonderfully small -if they were hidden in the manifold red bandages that purported to make -the slender red ankles neat. - -Bride and bridegroom took their places in front of the minister, in -front of the plant and alongside the coals, and it made my back ache to -think of keeping any being standing for above a second on such feet. -The service began, all in Chinese, of course, though the officiating -minister was an American, a couple of hymns were sung, and the audience -laughed aloud because she was married by her baby name, her mother -having omitted to provide her with another. - -The good woman had yearned for a son so she had called this girl “Lead a -brother.” - -Half-way through the ceremony the bridegroom lifted the veil. He gave -it a hurried snatch, as if it were a matter of no moment, and hung it on -one of the projections of the brazen crown, and then he and we saw the -bride's face for the first time. They had done their best to spoil her -beauty with carmine paint, but she had a nice little nose and a -sweet little quivering mouth that was very lovable, and I think the -bridegroom, though he never moved a muscle, must have been pleased with -his bargain. - -When the service was ended, she and we, the principal guests, went back -to the _k'ang_ in the bride chamber; her crown and outer red robe were -taken off, all in public, and a small square box containing some of her -trousseau was brought in, and every woman and child there in that stuffy -little room dived into it and hauled out the silks and embroideries and -little shoes and made audible comments on them. - -“H'm! it's only sham silk,” said one. - -“How old are you, new bride?” asked another. - -“She's not much to look at,” said a third, which was a shame, for with -the paint washed off she must have been pretty though tired-looking. - -It was five o'clock before we went to the feast, all the women together, -and all the men together, four or five at a table, and the bridegroom, -without the absurd headgear, and his mother, in sober blue silk, came -round at intervals and exhorted us to eat plenty. - -We had one little saucer each, a pair of chopsticks and a china spoon -such as that with which my grandmother used to ladle out her tea, and -they served for all the courses. It was lucky I had had nothing since -seven in the morning, or I might not have felt equal to eating after I -had seen the cooking and the washing-up arrangements. As it was, I -was hungry enough not to worry over trifles. After she had sucked them -audibly, my friend the Bible-woman helped me with her own chopsticks, -and I managed to put up with that too. I tried a little wine. It -was served in little bowls not as large as a very small salt-cellar, -literally in thimblefuls, but one was too much for me. It tasted of -fiery spirit and earth, and I felt my companion was not denying herself -much when she proclaimed herself a teetotaller. What we ate heaven only -knows, but much to my surprise I found it very good. Chinese when they -have the opportunity are excellent cooks. - -The bride sat throughout the feast on the _k'ang_, her hands--three of -her finger-nails were shielded with long silver shields--hidden under -her lavender jacket and her plate piled before her, though etiquette -required that she should refuse all food. They chaffed her and laughed -at her, but she sat there with downcast eyes like a graven image. After -the feast two or three men friends of the bridegroom were brought in, -and to every one she had to rise and make an obeisance, and though the -men and women hardly looked at or spoke to each other, it was evident -that she was for this occasion a thing to be commented on, inspected -and laughed at. She was bearing it very well, poor little girl, when Kan -T'ai T'ai's cart--I was Kan T'ai T'ai--was announced, and we went home -through the streets as the shades of evening were falling. I had -fed bountifully and well, but the dissipation had worn me out, the -airlessness of the rooms was terrible, and even the dust-laden air of -the narrow street I drew into my lungs with a sigh of deep thankfulness. -It was good to be in the free air again. Better still to remember, -however I had railed against my fate at times, nothing that could ever -happen to me would be quite as bad as the fate of the average Chinese -woman. - -However, a new life was beginning for this girl in more ways than one. -The bridegroom was going back to his business, that of a photographer -in T'ai Yuan Fu, leaving his wife with his mother. She was to be sent to -the school for married women opened by the missionaries, and, of -course, her feet were to be unbound. Probably, I hope I do not do him an -injustice, the bridegroom would not have objected to bound feet, but he -did want an educated mother for his children, and the missionaries -will take no woman with bound feet. They will do the best they can to -retrieve the damage done, though she can never hope to be anything but -a maimed cripple, but at least she in the future will be free from pain, -into her darkened life will come a little knowledge and a little light, -and certainly her daughters will have a happier life and a brighter -outlook. - -Missions in China, if they are to do any good, are necessarily -patriarchal. They look after their converts from the cradle to the -grave. The kindergarten run by a Chinese girl under the maternal eye -of young Miss Grace Maccomaughey was quite a pretty sight, with all the -little tots in their quaint dresses of many colours and their hair done -or their heads shaved in the absurd fashion which seems good to the -proud Chinese parents--for Chinese parents are both proud and tender and -loving, though their ways seem strange to us. But babies all the world -over, yellow or black or white, are all lovable, and these babies at the -kindergarten were delicious. - -“Beloved guest, beloved guest,” they sang in chorus when I came in and -they were told to greet me. “Peace to thee, peace to thee.” - -And “Lao T'ai T'ai” they used to address me in shrill little voices as I -went about the compound. Lao T'ai T'ai (I shouldn't like to swear I'd -spelled it properly) means “Old lady”--that is, a woman of venerable -years who is rich enough to keep a servant--and it was the first time in -my life I had been so addressed, so I looked in the glass to see if I -had developed grey hair or wrinkles--riding on a mule-pack would be -enough to excuse anything--and then I remembered that if in doubt in -China it is erring on the side of courtesy to consider your acquaintance -old. I dare say to the children I was old. I remember as a very little -girl a maiden aunt asking me how old I thought her, and I, knowing she -was older than my mother, felt she must be quite tottery and suggested -in all good faith she might be about ninety. I believe the lady had just -attained her five and thirtieth year, and prided herself upon her -youthful appearance. At any rate her attitude on this occasion taught me -when guessing an age it is better to understate than to overestimate. At -least in the West. Here in the East I was “Old lady” by courtesy. - -And they begin the important things of life early in China. At the -kindergarten there were two little tots, a boy and a girl, engaged to be -married. The boy was the son of one of the mission cooks and the girl -was the daughter of his wife. He, a widower, sought a wife to look after -his little boy, and he got this young widow cheap. Her price was thirty -_tiaous_--that is, a little over one pound--and at first he said it was -too much and he could not afford it, but when he heard she had a little -girl he changed his mind and scraped together the money, for the child -could be betrothed to his little son and save the expense of a wife -later on. - -They were a quaint little pair, both in coats and trousers, shabby and -old, evidently the children of poor people, and both with their heads -shaven save for a tuft of hair here and there. The boy had his tufts cut -short, while the girl's were allowed to grow as long as they would and -were twisted into a plait. Such a happy little couple they were, always -together, and in the games at the kindergarten when they had to pair -these little ones always chose each other. Possibly the new wife in the -home was a wise and discreet woman. She might be glad too at the thought -that she need not part with her daughter. Anyhow I should think that in -Fen Chou Fu in the future there would be one married couple between whom -the sincerest affection will exist. - -I suppose Chinese husbands and wives are fond of each other -occasionally, but the Chinaman looks upon wedded life from quite a -different point of view from the Westerner. I remember hearing about a -new-made widow who came to sympathise with a missionary recovering from -a long illness. She was properly thanked, and then the missionary in her -turn said in the vernacular: - -“And you too have suffered a bitterness. I am sorry.” - -“I?” incredulously, as much as to say, Who could think I had a sorrow? - -“Why, yes. You have lost your husband, haven't you?” - -“Call that a bitterness?” smiled the relict cheerfully, and her would-be -consoler felt the ground cut away beneath her feet. - -But perhaps that sympathiser was not quite as much dismayed as another -lady who offered her condolences upon a similar occasion. The new-made -widow was a gay old thing, and she remarked blandly, with a toss of her -head: - -“All, we don't worry about things like that when we've got the Gospel!” - which left that well-meaning teacher a little uncertain as to whether -she had instructed her in the doctrines of her new faith quite -correctly. - -Fen Chou Fu is a town that lends itself to reform, that asks for it. -When I was there they had a magistrate who had been educated in Japan -and was ready to back any measures for the good of the town. He was too -much imbued with the spirit of modern thought to be a Christian, but -he was full of admiration for many of the measures advocated by these -enthusiastic young people from Oberlin College. There is a large -Government school here--you may see the courtyards with their lily ponds -and bridges from the wall--that has been in existence for hundreds of -years, and this magistrate appealed to the missionaries to take it over -and institute their modern methods. They might even, so he said, teach -their own faith there. The only thing that stood in the way was want -of funds, for though the school was endowed, money has still a way of -sticking to the hands through which it passes in China. The missionaries -were rather inclined, I think, to have hopes of his conversion, but I do -not think it is very easy to convert the broad-minded man who sees the -good in all creeds. This magistrate was anxious to help his people sunk -in ignorance and was wise enough to use every means that came in his -way, for he knows, knowing his own people, you will never Westernise -a Chinaman. He will take all that is good--or bad--in the West that -appeals to him, and he will mould it in his own way. This magistrate -was building an industrial school for criminal boys close to the mission -station and, more progressive than the West itself, he allowed his wife -to sit on the bench beside him and try and sentence women proved guilty -of crime. - - - - -CHAPTER V--“MISERERE DOMINE!” - -As I have said more than once, it seems to me the most intolerable -thing in life would be to be a Chinese woman. I remember when first I -began to write about China I asked a friend of mine to look over my -work and he objected to my making such a fuss about the condition of the -women. - -“Why, people will think you are a suffragette!” said he, searching for -some term of obloquy that he felt could not possibly apply to me. - -But I am a suffragist, an ardent suffragist, realising that a woman -is most valuable neither as an angel nor as a slave, but as a useful -citizen, and I saw then that he possibly knew little about the condition -of his own women, and probably absolutely nothing at all about the -condition of the women of the race who swarmed around him. Those he met -would be dumb, and at any rate no right-minded woman begins upon her -wrongs to a stranger. In any country it would be bad taste, in China no -words can tell what shocking bad taste. I had to seek further afield for -my information, and I got it from the medical missions. Now I went to -China with a strong prejudice against missionaries, and I found there -many people who backed me up. And then it occurred to me that I had -better go to a mission station and see what manner of people were these -I was judging so hastily and so finally. - -I went. And what I saw made me sorry that Great Britain and America, to -say nothing of Scandinavia, should be deprived of the services of these -men and women who are giving so much to an alien people. Of course I -know that many missionaries have the “call,” a “vocation” I suppose the -Catholics would call it. - -“It is a fine work,” said I, usually the unadmiring, “to teach these -women, but I do not like coming in contact with them, however much I -appreciate their virtues.” - -And the missionary girl looked at me pityingly. - -“Do you think,” said she, “we could come all this way to teach Chinese -women reading, writing and arithmetic?” - -It seems to me a great thing to do; if it be only to teach them to wash, -it is a great thing; but I who merely pitied would never have stayed -there to better the condition of those unhappy women. To her and her -comrades had come that mysterious call that comes to all peoples through -all the ages, the Crying in the Wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the -Lord. Make His paths straight,” and she thought more, far more, of it -than I did of the undoubtedly good work I saw she was doing, saw as -I never should have seen had I not gone in the ways untrodden by the -tourist, or indeed by any white man. - -There are missionaries and missionaries, of course; there are even -backsliders who, having learned the difficult tongue under the ægis of -the missions, have taken up curio-buying or any other of the mercantile -careers that loom so temptingly before the man who knows China; but in -all classes of society there are backsliders, the great majority must -not be judged by them. Neither must their narrowness be laid too mueh -to heart when judging the missionary as a whole. Possibly only a fanatic -can carry through whole-heartedly the work of a missionary at a remote -station in China, and most fanatics are narrow. There are, too, the men -and women who make it a business and a livelihood, who reckon they have -house and income and position and servants in return for their services -to the heathen, but they too are faithful and carry out their contracts. -Having once seen the misery and poverty in which the great majority of -Chinese dwell, I can say honestly that I think every mission station -that I have seen is a centre from which radiates at least a hope of -better things. They raise the standard of living, and though I care -not what god a man worships, and cannot understand how any man can be -brought to care, it is good that to these people sitting in darkness -someone should point out that behind the world lies a great Force, God, -Love, call it what you will, that is working for good. That the more -educated Chinese has worked out a faith for himself, just as many in -the West have done, I grant you, but still the majority of the people -that I have seen sit in darkness and want help. From the missions they -get it. Taken by and large, the Chinaman is a utilitarian person, and if -the missions had not been helpful they would long ago have gone. And for -the missionaries themselves--I speak of those in the outstations--not -one, it seems to me, not one would stay among the Chinese unless he were -sure that his God had sent him, for the life is hard, even for the rich -missions there are many deprivations, and if therefore, being but human, -they sometimes depict their God as merciful and loving in a way that -seems small and petty, much must be forgiven them. They are doing their -best. - -There is another side to it too for the West. These missionaries -are conquering China by the system of peaceful penetration. They are -persecuted, they suffer, are murdered often, but that does not drive -them away. They come back again and again, and wherever the missionary -succeeds in planting his foot the hatred to foreigners and things -foreign, strong among the conservative Chinese, is weakened and finally -broken down. China is a rich country, she is invaluable to the nations -of the earth for purposes of trade, and though the missionary in many -ways, if he were asked, would oppose the coming of the white man, he -certainly is the pioneer. - -China is trying to reform herself, but the process is slow, and it seems -to me in Shansi and in the parts of Chihli that I know it would be a -long, long while before the good percolated to the proletariat, the -Babylonish slaves, if it were not for the missionaries; and particularly -do I admire the medical missionaries, for China is one huge sore. - -That is the word the woman doctor at Pao Ting Fu applied to it, and, -attending her clinic of a morning, I was inclined to agree with her. -Life is hard for everybody among the poor in China, but especially does -it press upon the women. They came there into the clean sun-lit room and -the reek of them went up to heaven--bald-headed, toothless old crones in -wadded coats out of which all semblance of colour had long since passed, -young girls and little children clad in the oldest of garments. There -were so many with ingrowing eyelashes that the doctor had one particular -day upon which she operated for this painful disfigurement, and she -showed me how, by making a little nick--I'm afraid I can't use proper -surgical terms--in the upper eyelid, she turned back the eyelashes and -made them grow in the direction they are intended to grow, and saved the -unfortunates' eyes. Why eyelashes should grow in in China I don't know. -Perhaps it is my ignorance, but I have never heard of their behaving in -such an unnatural fashion in any other part of the world, while in Pao -Ting Fu this ailment seemed to be as common as influenza in London. Then -there would be women with their mouths closed by sores, often so badly -they could only live by suction, and more than once a new mouth had to -be cut; there were cancerous growths--the woman depicted in the picture -had waited twenty years before she could arrange to come under one -hundred miles to the doctor--there were sores on the head, sores all -over the body, all, I suppose, including the ingrowing eyelashes, caused -by malnutrition, swollen glands, abscesses offensive and purulent, in -fact in that clinic were collected such an array of human woes, ghastly, -horrible, as well might make one wonder if the force behind all life -could possibly be anything but devilish and cruel. Wherein could the -good be found? Where? - -And yet there was good. Among these women moved the nurses. They were -comely girls in blue coats and trousers, with their abundant black hair -smoothly drawn back, neat white stockings and the daintiest of little -shoes. Their delicate artistic hands used sponge and basin very capably, -they were the greatest contrast to their patients, and yet they were -truly Chinese, had sprung from the people to whom they now ministered, -and one of them, though it was hardly observable, had an artificial -foot. So had she suffered from foot-binding that her own had had to be -amputated. - -Probably most of the ailments there treated were preventable, but worst -of all were the bound feet and the ailments the women suffered from in -consequence. It is not good manners to speak about a woman's feet, -and the women themselves rarely refer to them, but naturally I was -interested in the custom, and whenever the doctor got a “good” bound -foot, which probably meant a very bad one, she sent over for me to come -and see it. Anyone who has once seen a bound foot will never forget it. -It always smelt abominably when first the bandages were taken off, and -the first thing the nurses did was to provide a square kerosene tin of -hot water in which to soak the foot well. - -Well washed, the feet might be looked at. Shansi especially is the home -of the bound foot, most of the women have such small feet that they are -confined for the greater part of their lives to the _k'ang_. I remember -Dr Lewis in all seriousness saying that he thought on the whole a -Chinese woman was better without her feet. And I'm inclined to think he -was right. The toes, all except the big toe, are pressed back till they -touch the heel, the bandage is put on and drawn tighter and tighter -every day, and if the girl is healthy and big-boned, so much the worse -for her. No matter the size of the girl, the foot must conform to the -one standard. In Shansi when I was there the shoes were generally about -four inches long, and I have taken shoes of that length off a tall and -strapping woman who was tottering along with the aid of a stick. What -she must have suffered to get her feet to that size is too terrible -to imagine. She must have been suffering still for that matter. If the -instep after the tightest binding still sticks up the girl's marriage -chances are seriously interfered with, and then the mother or some -feminine relative takes a meat-chopper and breaks the bone till she can -bind the foot small enough. This information I got from the American -lady who looks after the women in the mission in Fen Chou Fu; and at -T'ai Yuan Fu the sister in the women's hospital added the gruesome -detail that they sometimes pull off the little girls' toe-nails so that -they may not interfere with the binding! - -And at the women's hospital at Pao Ting Fu I saw the finished product. -The big toe stuck straight out, red, possibly because of the soaking -in hot water--I never had courage to look at one unsoaked--and -ghastly-looking, the other toes were pressed back against the heel -and the heel went up and was exactly like the Cuban heels affected by -smartly dressed women, only this time it had been worked in flesh -and blood. The whole limb from the big toe to the knee was hard and -immovable as stone. If you press ordinary flesh anywhere it pits, just -yields a little, not so a Chinese woman's leg and foot. It is thin, -perished, literally hard as marble. Once having seen a foot unbound, it -is a wonder to me that any woman should walk at all. And yet they do. -They hold out their arms and walk, balancing themselves, and they use a -stick. Sometimes they walk on their heels, sometimes they try the toe, -but once I realised what those bandages concealed it was a painful and -dreadful thing to me to see a Chinese woman walking. In spite of the -hardness of the flesh, or probably because of it, they get bad corns on -the spot upon which they balance, and sores, very often tuberculous, eat -into the foot. - -[Illustration: 0117] - -[Illustration: 0118] - -But the evil does not stop at the foot. In Shansi it seemed to me every -woman's face was marked with the marks of patient suffering. Travelling -I often got a glimpse of one peering out of a cart or litter at the -foreigner, and that face invariably was patient, pallid and worn, for -foot-binding brings no end of evils in its train. The doctor at Fen Chou -Fu declared that nine-tenths of the women who came to him for treatment -suffered from tuberculosis in some form or another, and this in a -climate that in the winter must outrival in dryness Davos Platts. Not -a few, too, develop spinal curvature low down in the back, and often -because of the displacement of the organs they die in child-birth. A -missionary in one of the little towns I passed through, a trained nurse, -told me that when a woman suffered from what she (the woman) called -leg-waist pains--the doctor called it osteomalacia--her case was -hopeless, she could not give birth to a child. Often this nurse had been -called in to such cases, and she could do nothing to help the suffering -girl. She could only stand by and see her die. I could well believe -these tales of suffering. In Fen Chou Fu and in Pao Ting Fu the women -of the poorer classes freely walked the streets, and their crippled -condition was patent to all eyes. But in some towns it is not considered -seemly for any woman to be seen in the streets. Some reason established -this custom long ago: the reason passes, but China is the most -conservative of nations, and the custom remains. But the reason for -foot-binding is not very clear. There is something sexual at the bottom -of it, I believe, but why a sick and ailing woman should be supposed -to welcome the embraces of her lord more readily than one abounding in -health passes my understanding. Of course we remember that not so very -long ago, in the reign of Victoria, practically the delicate woman -who was always ailing was held up to universal admiration. Look at -the swooning heroines of Dickens and Thackeray. But let no man put the -compressed waist on the same plane as foot-binding. I have heard -more than one man do so, but I unhesitatingly affirm they are wrong. -Foot-binding is infinitely the worse crime. The pinched-in waist did not -begin till the girl was at least well on in her teens, and it was -only the extreme cases--and they did it of their own free will I -presume--who kept up the pressure always. There was always the night for -rest, whereas the Chinese women get no rest from torture. - -The missionaries at Fen Chou Fu, being very anxious to improve the -status of the women, used to arrange to have lectures in their large -hall to women only, and they raked the country-side for important people -to address them on subjects that were, or rather that should be, of -interest to women. They were not supposed to have anything to do with -religion, but they discussed openly women's position, were told about -hygiene and the care of children, and the magistrate's wife, she who had -been educated in Japan, told them some home-truths about the position of -women in China. - -“American women,” said she on one occasion, “go out into the world and -help in the world's development. We Chinese stay at home and are dragged -along by the men. The time has come when we must learn better things.” - -But I looked one day at over seventy women of the richer classes -assembled to listen to a young and enthusiastic Chinese with modern -views on the position of women and their equality with men. He was -passionate, he was eloquent, he was desperately in earnest, but it was -very evident he spoke to deaf ears. I do not think that any one of those -women grasped, or cared for that matter, what he was saying. In the -heart of China woman is very far from being the equal of man. These -women were pets and toys, and they came to the mission station probably -because it was the fashionable form of amusement just then, but they -listened to what was being said with deaf ears and minds incapable -of understanding. They were gaily clad in silks and satins, richly -embroidered; their hair when it was abundant was oiled and elaborately -dressed and decorated with gold and silver pins, and when it was scanty -was hidden under embroidered silken bands; there was not a skirt amongst -them, that was left to the lecturer, their blue and green and brilliant -red trousers were rather narrow, their feet were of the very tiniest -even in Shansi, and their faces, worn and suffering under their paint -and powder, were vacant. Some of them had brought their babies, and only -when a child cried, and they cried fairly frequently, did those faces -light up. That was something they really did understand. - -And yet that enthusiastic young scholar in his voluminous petticoats, -with his hair cut in the modern fashion, went on lecturing to them on -the rights of women, the position women ought to occupy! - -But the position of women! Toys or slaves are they, toys and slaves have -been their mothers and their grandmothers since the days before the -dawn of history, and very, very slowly is the idea of the possibility of -better things percolating through to the masses in China. It will come, -I suppose, because already there are Government schools for women, -though they are few and far between, and in some places, so far has -the desire for freedom gone, the girls have banded themselves into -societies, declaring that rather than marry a man they have never seen -they will commit suicide, and more than one has taken her own life. But -in the parts of Shansi and Chihli where I was so much light has not yet -penetrated. The wife and mother has influence because any living -thing with which we are closely associated--even if it be but a little -dog--must needs influence us, but all the same the Chinese women are as -a rule mere chattels, dependent entirely upon their menfolk. Amongst -the Chinese the five happinesses are: old age, a son, riches, official -position and a moustache; so slight a thing is a woman that she does not -come in in this connection. - -“As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far am I,” disdainfully -proclaimed a Chinese teacher, “above my wife.” And he only spoke as if -stating a self-evident fact, a thing that could not be questioned. “How -could she be my equal?” Just as I might have objected to being put on -the same plane as my mule or my little dog. Indeed I doubt very much -whether he gave the same consideration to his wife as I would do to my -little dog, who is much beloved. - -This is not to say, of course, that the men don't consider the women. -They do. - -I remember the gate-keeper at Pao Ting Fu mission paying up for his -daughter's schooling. He was a jovial old soul, so old that I was -surprised to hear he had a mother. - -“Short am I?” said he cheerfully. “Short? Oh, that dollar and a half!” - He paused to consider the matter, then added: “And I was thinking about -borrowing a dollar from you. My mother's dying, and I want to buy her a -skirt! Must be prepared, you know!” - -The old lady, said Miss Newton, had probably never owned such a luxury -as a skirt in her life, but that was her son's way of being good to -her, for the people have a proverb to the effect that the most important -thing in life is to be buried well, an idea that isn't entirely unknown -in Western and more enlightened lands. Poor old lady, whose one and -only skirt came to her to be buried in, or perhaps it would be taken off -before she was buried, for the Chinese are a careful people. I remember -one frugal man who celebrated the funeral of his mother and the marriage -of his son at the same time, so that the funeral baked meats did for -the marriage feast, and the same musicians did for both. The coffin, -of heavy black wood, tall as a mantelpiece, stood in the yard, with the -eldest son and his wife clad in white as mourners, and the rest of -the company made merry in the house over the bridal. It was the most -exquisite piece of thrift, but the Chinaman is _par excellence_ an -economist. - -It was in Pao Ting Fu that I met the only woman who made open complaint -against the position of women, and she only did it because, poor thing, -she was driven to it. - -She slipped through the mission compound gate while the gate-keeper was -looking the other way, a miserable, unkempt woman with roughened hair -and maimed feet. Her coat and trousers of the poorest blue cotton were -old and soiled, and the child she carried in her arms was naked save -for a little square of blue cotton tied round his body in front. She -was simply a woman of the people, deadly poor where all just escape -starvation, young and comely where many are unattractive, and she stood -under the shade of the trees watching eagerly the mission family and -their guest at breakfast on the porch! It was a June morning, the -sunshine that would be too fierce later on now at 7 a.m. was golden, and -a gentle breeze just whispered softly in the branches that China--even -Pao Ting Fu--in the early summer morning was a delightful place. - -But eager watching eyes glued to every mouthful are distinctly -disquieting, and in China, the land of punctilious etiquette, are rude. -Besides, she had no business to be there, and the doctor's wife turned -and spoke to her. - -“What custom is this?” said she, using the vernacular, “and how did you -get in here?” - -“I ran past”--ran, save the mark, with those poor broken cramped -feet--“when the gate-keeper was not looking. And it's not a day's hunger -I have. For weeks when we have had a meal we have not known where the -next was coming from.” - -“But you have a husband?” - -“And he was rich,” assented the woman, “but he has gambled it all away.” - -It was quite a likely story. Another woman working on the compound said -it was true. She had a bad husband--_hi yah!_ a very bad husband. He -beat her, often he beat her. Sometimes perhaps it was her fault, because -she was bad-tempered. Who would not be bad-tempered with maimed feet, an -empty stomach and two little hungry children? But often he beat her -for no reason at all. And everyone knows that a Chinese husband has a -perfect right to beat his wife. That he refrains from so doing is an act -of grace on his part, but a woman of herself is merely his chattel. She -has no rights. - -The hospital quilted bed-covers--_pel wos_, they called them--had to be -unripped and washed. The pay was twenty-five _t'ung tzus_ a day and keep -yourself. One hundred and thirty _t'ung tzus_ went to the dollar, and -10-35 dollars went to the sovereign at that time, so that the work -could not be considered overpaid; but this was China, and the women were -apparently rising up out of the ground and clamouring for it. It was -evidently looked upon as quite a recreation to sit under the trees on -the grass in the mission compound and gossip and unpick quilts. The new -recruit joined them and spent a happy day, sure of food for herself and -her children for that day at least--not food perhaps such as we would -appreciate, but at least a sufficiency of millet porridge. - -That day and the next she worked, and then on the third day at midday -she went away for her meal and did not come back till after two o'clock -in the afternoon. The doctor's wife was reproachful. - -“You have been away for over three hours. Why is this?” - -She was a true Chinese and found it difficult to give a direct answer. - -“I have been talking to my mother,” said she, rousing wrath where she -might have gained sympathy. - -“What excuse is this?” said the doctor's wife. “You go away, and when -I ask you why, you tell me you have been talking to your mother! Your -mother should have more sense than to keep you from your work!” - -“But my husband has sold me!” protested the culprit and then we saw that -her face was swollen with crying; “and I am a young woman and I don't -know what to do when my husband sells me. He keeps the children and -he sells me, and Tsao, the man who has bought me, is a bad man,” and -dropping down to the ground she let the tears fall on to the work in her -hands. - -“I am young and so I don't know what to do.” It was the burden of her -song. It may be she is wailing still, for the story was unfinished when -I left. She was young and she didn't know what to do. She would not have -minded leaving her husband if only the man to whom she had been sold had -been a better man, but he bore a worse reputation if anything than her -husband, and ignorant, unlearned in all things of this world as she was, -she and the women round her knew exactly what her fate would be. Tsao -would sell her when he tired of her, and her next purchaser would do -likewise, and as she gets older and her white teeth decay and her bright -eyes fade and her comeliness wanes her money value will grow less and -less, and beating and starvation will be her portion till death comes -as a merciful release. But, as she kept repeating pathetically, she is -young, and death is the goal at the end of a weary, weary, heartbreaking -road. - -For her husband was quite within his rights. He could sell her. It may -be, of course, he will be swayed by public opinion, and public opinion -is against the disposing of a wife after this fashion. - -“Let her complain to the official,” suggested my assurance. - -But the wise women who knew rose up in horror at the depths of ignorance -I was disclosing. - -“Go to the yamen and complain of her husband!” - -It is no crime for a man to sell his wife, but it is a deadly crime for -a woman to speak evil of her husband! She was not yet handed over. All -he would have to do would be to deny it, and then she would be convicted -of this crime and to her other ills would be added the wrath of the -official. No, something better than that must be thought of. - -She had been sold for a hundred _tiaou_--something under four -pounds--and when the money was paid she would have to go to her new -master, far away from all her friends. - -“_Hi yah!_” said the other women. “What a bad man!” So public opinion -was against it! - -It would do no good to buy her freedom unless the purchaser were -prepared to take upon himself the conduct of her future life. A woman -must belong to somebody in China; she is, except in very exceptional -cases and among the very advanced, considered incapable of guiding her -own life, and pay this and the man would still regard her as his wife -and sell her again. - -Then a woman wise with wisdom of the people arose. - -“There is only one thing to be done,” said she; “you must pretend you -know nothing about it, and when Tsao comes, and you are sold, then make -an excuse and run to the yamen. It may be the official will help, for it -is a wicked thing.” - -“Run to the yamen!” on feet on which she could just totter. But the wise -woman had taken that into consideration. - -“Mark well the way so you may hide in the turnings.” - -Such a forlorn, pitiful little hope! But with it she had to be content, -and that night she held her peace and pretended she did not know -the fate that hung over her, and when I left she was still ripping -bed-covers with the other women. She had had no hand in bringing about -her own fate, for she did not choose this man. She had never seen him -till she was handed over on her marriage day by her parents. - -“What,” said the women at one place when a new missionary came to them, -“forty and not married! What freedom! How did you manage it! What good -fortune!” - -In China there is no respectable word, so I am told, to denote a -bachelor, and there was almost never, at least under the old regime, -such a thing as an old maid. Every woman must belong to someone, and -few and far between are the families that can afford to keep unmarried -daughters, so the women regard as eminently fortunate those foreign -women they come across, missionary or otherwise, who are apparently free -to guide their own lives. - -Of course the average husband would no more think of selling his wife -than would an Englishman, but, unlike the Englishman, he knows that he -has the right to do so should he so please, even as he has the right -of life and death over her and his children. She is his chattel, to be -faithful to her would simply be foolishness. - -They tell a story of an angry father found digging a hole in which he -proposed to bury his son alive. That son had been insolent, and it was -a terrible thing to have an insolent son. His mother wept, but to her -tears the father paid no heed. A stranger passed along and questioned -the little company, and finding in his heart pity for the woman and the -lad, cast about how he might help them. He did not set about it as we of -the West would have done. - -He commiserated with the father. It was a terrible thing to have an -insolent son. Undoubtedly he deserved death. But it would be a bad thing -to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet. - -That was provided for, said the irate parent. He had two other sons. - -That was well! That was well! And of course they had sons? - -No, they were young. They had no sons yet. - -A-a-ah! And suppose anything happened by which they both should die? - -The stranger let that sink in. He had struck the right chord. It -would be a terrible thing to have no son to worship at the ancestral -tablet--to think that he by his own act---- - -Chinese reasoning prevailed, and the son's life was spared. - -And yet the Chinese are fond of their children and, according to their -lights, good to their wives. It is that under the patriarchal system -children and women--a woman is always a child, a very ignorant child as -a rule--have no rights. They are dependent upon the good will of their -owners. - -And so the woman sitting waiting to see if her husband would complete -the bargain and sell her had no rights. She was just a chattel in the -eye of the law. And there was none to help. Miserere Domine! It was just -possible public opinion would save her. It was her only hope. Miserere -Domine! Miserere Domine! - -In Fen Chou Fu the missionaries had started an adult school for women. -First it was started, as they themselves put it, to teach the Gospel, -but then wisely they extended it and taught reading, writing and -arithmetic, and very eager indeed were the pupils. It is only fair to -say that very often husbands, or possibly fathers-in-law--for a woman -belongs to the head of her husband's family, or at least owes allegiance -to him--aided and abetted in every way, and when necessary sent the -pupils twenty and thirty miles in carts and in litters from away in -the mountains to attend. One woman with four little children, all under -five, with another coming, was a most eager pupil. Her children were -sent to the kindergarten, which is in charge of a young Chinese teacher -educated by the missionaries. - -Again I do not say the Chinese are not doing something to ameliorate the -condition of their women. I can only speak of what I saw, and what I saw -was, here in Shansi, the wives of the most miserable peasants sunk in -ignorance and hardly able to crawl from the _k'angs_ on which they spent -their lives. The men do the cooking because the women are incapable, and -the mortality among the children is terrible. A doctor told me that -very often he had attended a woman at the birth of her thirteenth or -fourteenth child and only one or two would be living! - -I don't know how many wives or concubines a man is allowed. Only the -first one has any standing, and the number of the others is probably -limited by his means. I remember hearing of one man, a Mr Feng, who had -just married his second wife to another man because she was making his -life too miserable for him. This was the man's side of the story; I had -heard the woman's the last time. I wonder how the case is put on these -occasions. Does a man say he is parting with the lady with extreme -regret because the climate does not suit her, or because his first wife -does not like her, or because a sudden reverse of fortune has compelled -him to reduce his household? He surely would never have given the real -reason. My friend Mr Farrer waxes enthusiastic over things Chinese, but -I must say what I have seen of their domestic life repels me, and I -am rather inclined to agree with a missionary of my acquaintance--a -bachelor though--that it would give nervous prostration to a brazen -statue. - -There can be little happiness where there is ignorance, and the majority -of the women of Shansi anyhow are the ignorant slaves of ignorant -slaves. Miserere Domine! - - - - -CHAPTER VI--BY MOUNTAIN AND RIVER - -Setting out on a long journey by road, moving along slowly, at the rate -of thirty miles a day, I find I do not have the end in view in my mind -all the time. I do subconsciously, of course, or I would never get on -at all, but I take a point a couple of days ahead and concentrate -on getting there. Having arrived so far, I am so pleased with the -performance I can concentrate on the next couple of days ahead. So -I pass on comfortably, with the invigorating feeling of, something -accomplished. - -Fen Chou Fu, then, was one of my jumping-off places. - -And at Fen Chou Fu my muleteers began to complain. Looked at from a -Western point of view, they ought to have complained long before, but -their complaint was not what I expected. They sent my interpreter to say -we were going the wrong way. This road would lead us out into a great -bare place of sand. When the wind blew it would raise the sand in great -clouds that would overwhelm us, and if the clouds gathered in the sky we -should not be able to see the sun, we would not know in which direction -to go and we should perish miserably. And having supplied me with this -valuable and sinister information they stood back to watch it sink in. - -It didn't have the damping and depressing effect they doubtless -expected. To begin with, I couldn't believe in a Chinese sky where you -couldn't see the sun. The clouds might gather, but a few hours would -suffice to disperse them, in my experience, and as for losing ourselves -in the sand--well, I couldn't believe it possible. Always in China, -where-ever I had been, there had been plenty of people of whom to ask -the way, and though every man's radius was doubtless short, still at -every yard there was somebody. It was like an endless chain. - -“Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang. - -“Repeat, please,” said he, according to the approved formula. - -“Won't they go?” I felt I had better have the matter clear. - -“You say 'Go,' mus' go. You fear--you no go.” - -If I feared and wouldn't go on, I grasped, the money I paid them would -be forfeit. - -“But I must go. I am not afraid.” - -“They say you go by Hsi An Fu. That be ploper.” And the listening -muleteers smiled at me blandly. - -“But I cannot go by Hsi An Fu because of White Wolf.” I did not say that -also it would be going round two sides of a triangle because that would -not appeal to the Chinese mind. - -“They not knowing White Wolf,” said Mr Wang, shaking his head. - -“Well, I know White Wolf,” I said, departing a little from the truth, -“and I am going across the river to Sui Te Chou.” - -“You say 'Go,'” said Mr Wang sorrowfully, “mus' go,” and he looked at -the muleteers, and the muleteers looked at him sorrowfully and went -off the verandah sorrowfully to prepare for the lonely road where there -would be no people of whom to ask the way, only sand and no sun. - -There was plenty of sun when we started. It was a glorious summer -morning when my little caravan went out of the northern gate into the -mountains that threatened the town. It was unknown China now, China as -she was in the time of the Cæsars, further back still in the time of -the Babylonish kings, in the days before the first dynasty in Egypt. Out -through the northern gate we went, by the clay-walled northern suburb, -past great ash-heaps like little mountain ranges, the refuse of -centuries, their softly rounded sides now tinged with the green of -springtime, and almost at once my caravan was at the foot of the -hills--hills carved into terraces by the daily toil of thousands, but -looking as if they had been so carved by some giant hand. As we entered -them as hills they promptly disappeared, for the road was sunken, and -high over our heads rose the steep clay walls, shutting out all view -save the bright strip of blue sky above. - -I here put it on record--I believe I have done it before, but it really -cannot be repeated too often--that as a conveyance a mule litter leaves -much to be desired. Sitting up there on my bedding among my cushions, -with James Buchanan beside me, I was much more comfortable than I should -have been in a Peking cart, but also I was much more helpless. A driver -did take charge of the Peking cart, but the gentleman who sometimes led -my mule litter more often felt that things were safer in the charge of -the big white mule in front, and when the way was extremely steep or -rough he abandoned it entirely to its discretion. The missionaries had -told me whenever I came to a bad place to be sure and get out, because -the Chinese mules are not surefooted enough to be always trusted. They -are quite likely at a bad place to slip and go over. This was a cheering -reflection when I found myself at the bad place abandoned to the tender -mercies of those animals. The mule in the lead certainly was a capable -beast, but again and again, as I told Mr Wang, I would have preferred -that the muleteers should not put quite so much faith in him. I learned -to say “B-r-rrr, b-r-r-rrr!” when I wanted him to stop, but I did -not like to say it often, because I felt in a critical moment I might -seriously hamper him to my own disadvantage. I told Mr Wang I was to -be lifted out when we came to bad places, but that too was hardly -practicable, for we came to many places that I certainly could not have -negotiated on my own feet, and how the mules got a cumbersome litter -down or up them passes my understanding. Thinking it over, the only -advice I can give to anyone who wishes to follow in my footsteps is -to shut his eyes as I did and trust to the mule. And we went down some -places that were calculated to take the curl out of my hair. - -James Buchanan was a great comfort to me under these circumstances. He -nestled down beside me--he had recovered from his accident before we -left Fen Chou Fu--and he always assured me that everything would be all -right. One thing he utterly declined to do, and that was to walk with -the servants. I used to think it would be good for his health, but the -wisdom of the little Pekinese at the British American Tobacco Factory -had sunk in deep and he declined to trust himself with them unless I -walked too, when he was wild with delight. Put out by himself, he would -raise a pitiful wail. - -“Buchanan declines,” Mr Wang would say sententiously, and he would be -lifted baek into the litter by my master of transport as if he were a -prince of the blood at least. And if anyone thinks I make an absurd fuss -about a little dog, I must remind him that I was entirely alone among an -alien people, and the little dog's affection meant a tremendous deal -to me. He took away all sense of loneliness. Looking back, I know now I -could not have gone on, this book would never have been written, if it -had not been for James Buchanan. - -Roughly the way to the Yellow River is through a chain of mountains, -across a stony plateau in the centre of which is situated Yung Ning -Chou, quite a busy commercial city, and across another chain of -mountains through which the river forces its way. When first I entered -the ditch in the loess my objective was Yung Ning Chou. I looked no -farther. I wanted to get to that town in which seven Scandinavian -missionaries in twenty years had not effected a single convert. The -cliffs frowned overhead, and the effect to me was of wandering along an -extremely stony way with many pitfalls in it to the chiming of many -mule bells and an unceasing shouting of “_Ta, ta!_”--that is, “Beat, -beat!”--a threat by which the muleteer exhorts his animals to do their -best. Generally speaking, I couldn't see the man who had charge of -me because he was some way behind and the tilt shut him from my view. -Except for knowing that he was attending to his job and looking after -me, I don't know that I pined to look upon him. His appearance was -calculated to make me feel I had not wakened from a nightmare. Sometimes -he wore a dirty rag over his head, but just as often he went in his -plain beauty unadorned--that is to say, with all the front part of his -head shaven and the back a mass of wild coarse black hair standing out -at all angles. They had cut off his queue during the reforming fever at -T'ai Yuan Fu and I presume he was doing the best he could till it should -grow again. Certainly it was an awe-inspiring headpiece. - -[Illustration: 0135] - -[Illustration: 0136] - -And always we progressed to the clashing of bells, for on every possible -point on the trappings of the four mules and the donkey that made up the -caravan and on every available point on the harness of every mule and -donkey that passed us was a brass bell. For, for all my muleteers had -objected to going this way, it was a caravan route to the West, and it -was seldom we did not see someone on the road. Here in this ditch in the -loess I realised the stern necessity for these bells, for often the way -was narrow and when we could hear another caravan coming we could make -arrangements to pass or to allow them to pass. There were many caravans -of ragged camels, and to these my animals objected with all the spirit -a life on the roads had still left in them. When we met a string of -them at close quarters in the loess my white mule in the lead nearly had -hysterics, and his feelings were shared, so I judged by the behaviour of -the litter, by his companion behind, and they both endeavoured to -commit suicide by climbing the bank, having no respect whatever for my -feelings. - -On these occasions, with clenched teeth and concentrated energy, my -muleteer addressed himself to that leading mule: - -“Now! Who's your mother? You may count yourself as dead!” - -The mule evidently felt this was serious and made a desperate endeavour -to get a little higher, and his attendant became sarcastic. - -“Call yourself a mule! Call yourself a lord, sir!” - -By the jangling of the bells and the yells of the rest of the company I -knew that the other animals felt equally bad, and more than once I saw -my luckless interpreter, who evidently was not much of a hand at sitting -on a pack, ruefully picking himself up and shaking the dust from his -person, his mule having flung him as a protest against the polluting of -the road by a train of camels. - -The camels march along with a very supercilious air, but mules, horses -and donkeys all fear them so much that there are special inns for them -and they are supposed only to travel by night, but this rule is more -honoured, I imagine, in the breach than in the observance. Most parts -of the road I don't see that any caravan could pass along at night. The -special inns do not present any difference to my unprejudiced eyes from -the discomfort of an ordinary mule and donkey inn. I stopped at one one -day in the loess for tiffin, and it consisted of a courtyard round which -were rooms (_yaos_) that were simply caves with the mouths bricked up -and doors in them. Inside, the caves were dark and airless, with for all -furniture the universal, _k'ang_; a fireplace is either in the middle or -at one of the ends, and the flues underneath carry the hot air under -the _k'ang_ to warm it. I have never before or since seen such miserable -dwelling-places as these _yaos_, and in the loess country I saw hundreds -of them, inhabitated by thousands of people. Wu Ch'eng particularly -commended itself to my notice because here I first realised that in -expecting a room to myself I was asking too much of the country. - -We crossed the mountain pass the first day out of Fen Chou Fu. Steep it -was, steep as the roof of a house, and we scrambled down the other -side and, just as the dusk was falling, we came to Wu Ch'eng, a village -mostly of _yaos_ in the mountain-side. Wu Ch'eng, where hundreds of -people live and die, was short of most things that make life worth -living: water was very scarce indeed, and there were no eggs there. It -was necessary that our little company should move on with what speed we -might. Also the inn only had one room. - -“The _k'ang_ is large,” said my interpreter, as if he thought that a -woman who would come out on this journey would not mind sharing that -_k'ang_ with all the other guests, the innkeeper and his servants. It -was rather large. I looked into an earthen cave the end of which, about -thirty feet away, I could hardly make out in the dim light. There were -great cobwebs hanging from the ceiling--dimly I saw them by the light -that filtered through the dirty paper that did duty for a window--and -the high _k'ang_ occupied the whole length of the room, leaving a narrow -passage with hard-beaten earth for a floor about two feet wide between -the _k'ang_ and the left-hand wall. It was about as uninviting a room -as I have ever seen. Also it was clearly impossible that Buchanan and I -should turn out the rest of the company, so I decreed that I should have -it to myself for half-an-hour for the purposes of washing and changing, -for whieh privilege I paid about twenty cash, roughly a ha'penny, and -then we slept in the litter, as we did on many other occasions, outside -in the yard among the donkeys and mules. The last thing I saw was the -bright stars peeping down at me, and the last thing I heard was the -mules munching at their well-earned chaff, and I wakened to the same -stars and the same sounds, for early retiring is conducive to early -rising, and yet the muleteers were always before me and were feeding -their beasts. Always I went through the same routine. I went to bed -despairing and disgusted and a little afraid. I slept like the dead, if -I slept outside, and I wakened to watch the sun rise and renew my hopes. - -There are hundreds, probably thousands, of villages like Wu Ch'eng in -China. The winter in Shansi in the mountains is Arctic and no words can -describe what must be the sufferings of these people; especially must -the women suffer, for the poorest peasant binds his daughter's feet, his -wife can hardly crawl. In Chihli you may see the women tottering round -on their stumps grinding the corn, in Shansi lucky is the woman who can -do so much. The ordinary peasant woman is equal to nothing but a little -needlework, if she have anything to sew, or to making a little porridge, -if she can do so without moving off the _k'ang_. - -The getting something for the men to cook must be a hard job. Potatoes -are sold singly, other vegetables are cut in halves or quarters, a fowl -is always sold by the joint. There may be people who do buy a whole -fowl, but they are probably millionaires. I suppose a whole section of a -community could not possibly exist on other folks' old clothes, but that -is how the people of this part of Shansi looked as if they were clothed. -They had not second-hand clothes or third-hand, they were apparently the -remnants that the third buyer could find no use for. - -I shall never forget on one occasion seeing a ragged scarecrow bearing -on the end of a pole a dead dog, not even an ordinary dead dog, but one -all over sores, a most disgustingly diseased specimen. I asked Mr Wang -what he was carrying that dog away for and that young gentleman looked -at me in surprise. He would never get to the bottom of this foolish -foreigner. - -“For eat,” said he simply! - -The people of the loess cannot afford to waste anything save the health -of their women. A dog, a wonk, shares the scavenging work of the Chinese -towns with the black and white crows, and doubtless the citizens do not -care so much for eating them as they would a nice juicy leg of mutton, -but they would no more throw away a wonk that had found life in a -Chinese town too hard and simply died than I would yesterday's leg of -mutton in favour of the tender chicken I prefer. - -This, the first camel inn I particularly noticed, was not far from -Fen Chou Fu, and they told me how many years ago one of the medical -missionaries touring the country found there the innkeeper's wife with -one of her bound feet in a terrible condition. She had a little baby at -her breast and she was suffering horribly--the foot was gangrenous. The -doctor was troubled and puzzled as well. He had no appliances and no -drugs, but left as they were, mother and baby, already half starved, -were doomed. Therefore, like a brave man as he was, he took his courage -in both hands, made a saw of a piece of scrap iron from an American -packing-case and with this rude instrument and no anaesthetics he -amputated that foot. And the woman survived, lived to see her child grow -up, was living when I passed along that way, and I sat in her courtyard -and had my tiffin of hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice washed down by -tea. It was her son's courtyard then, possibly that very baby's whose -life the missionary had saved by saving his mother's. For the Chinese -have no milch cows or goats and know little about feeding infants -artificially. - -Always at midday the litter was lifted off the mules' backs, my table -and chair were produced from some recess among the packs, my blue cotton -tablecloth was spread and Tsai Chih Fu armed himself with a frying-pan -in which to warm the rice and offered it to me along with hard-boiled -eggs of dubious age. The excellent master of transport was a bad cook, -and it is not an exhilarating diet when it is served up three times -a day for weeks with unfailing regularity. I never grew so weary of -anything in my life, and occasionally I tried to vary it by buying -little scones or cakes peppered with sesame seed, but I'm bound to say -they were all nasty. It always seemed to me that an unfair amount -of grit from the millstones had got into the flour. Chinese are -connoisseurs in their cooking, but not in poor little villages in the -mountains in Western Shansi, where they are content if they can fill -their starving stomachs. To judge Chinese taste by the provisions of -these mountaineers is as if we condemned the food of London, having -sampled only those shops where a steak pudding can be had for fourpence. - -And all these little inns, these underground inns, very often had the -most high-sounding names. “The Inn of Increasing Righteousness”--I hope -it was, there was certainly nothing else to recommend it; but the “Inn -of Ten Thousand Conveniences” really made the greatest claim upon my -faith. The Ritz or the Carlton could hardly have claimed more than this -cave with the hard-beaten earth for the floor of its one room and for -all furnishing the _k'ang_ where landlord and guests slept in company. - -Yet all these uncomfortable inns between Fen Chou Fu and Yung Ning Chou -were thronged. The roads outside were littered with the packs of the -mules and donkeys, and inside the courtyard all was bustle, watering -and feeding the animals and attending to the wants of the men, who -apparently took most of their refreshment out of little basins with -chopsticks and when they were very wealthy, or on great occasions, had -tea without milk or sugar--which, of course, is the proper way to drink -it--out of little handleless cups. I don't know that they had anything -else to drink except hot water. I certainly never saw them drinking -anything intoxicating, and I believe there are no public-houses in China -proper. - -Every now and then the way through the loess widened a little and there -was an archway with a tower above it and a crowded village behind. -Always the villages were crowded. There was very often one or perhaps -two trees shading the principal street, but other hints of garden or -greenery there were none. The shops--open stalls--were packed together. -And in these little villages it is all slum: there is no hint of country -life, and the street was full of people, ragged people, mostly men and -children. The men were in rags in all shades of blue, and blue worn -and washed--at least possibly the washing is doubtful, we will say worn -only--to dun dirt colour. It was not picturesque, but filthy, and the -only hint of luxury was a pipe a yard long with a very tiny bowl which -when not in use hung round their necks or stuck out behind from under -their coats. Round their necks too would be hung a tiny brass tobacco -box with hieroglyphics upon it which contained the evil-smelling -compound they smoked. Sometimes they were at work in their alfresco -kitchens--never have I seen so much cooking done in the open -air--sometimes they were shoeing a mule, sometimes waiting for customers -for their cotton goods, or their pottery ware, or their unappetising -cooked stuff, and often they were nursing babies, little blaek-eyed -bundles of variegated dirty rags which on inspection resolved themselves -into a coat and trousers, whatever the age or the sex of the baby. And -never have I seen so many family men. The Chinaman is a good father and -is not ashamed to carry his baby. At least so I judge. - -Only occasionally was a woman or two to be seen, sitting on their -doorsteps gossiping in the sun or the shade, according to the -temperature. Men and women stared at the foreign woman with all their -eyes, for foreigners are rather like snow in June in these parts, and -my coming made me feel as if a menagerie had arrived in the villages -so great and interested were the crowds that assembled to look at and -comment on me. - -After we passed through the loess the track was up a winding ravine cut -in past ages by the agency of water. From five hundred to a thousand -feet above us towered the cliffs and at their feet trickled a tiny drain -of water, not ankle-deep, that must once have come down a mighty flood -to cut for itself such a way through the eternal hills. For this, unlike -the road through the loess, is a broad way where many caravans might -find room. And this trickle was the beginnings of a tributary to the -Yellow River. Along its winding banks lay the caravan route. - -And many caravans were passing. No place in China is lonely. There were -strings of camels, ragged and losing their coats--second-hand goods, -Mark Twain calls them--there were strings of pack-mules and still longer -strings of little donkeys, and there were many men with bamboos across -their shoulders and loads slung from either end. Some of these men had -come from Peking and were bound for far Kansu, the other side of Shensi; -but as I went on fewer and fewer got the loads from Kansu, most of them -stopped at Yung Ning Chou, the last walled town of any size this side of -the river. Always, always through the loess, through the deep ravines, -across the mountain passes, across the rocky plateau right away to the -little mountain city was the stream coming and going, bearing Pekingese -and Cantonese goods into the mountains, and coming back laden with -wheat, which is the principal product of these places. - -Ask the drivers where they were going, camel, mule or donkey, and the -answer was always the same, they were going east or west, which, of -course, we could see for ourselves. There was no possibility of going -any other way. Those in authority knew whither they were bound, but the -ignorant drivers knew nothing but the direction. At least that is one -explanation, the one I accepted at the time, afterwards I came to know -it is a breach of good manners to exhibit curiosity in China, and quite -likely my interpreter simply greeted the caravans and made his own -answer to my question. It satisfied or at least silenced me and saved my -face. - -One thing, however, grew more and more noticeable: the laden beasts were -coming east, going west the pack-saddles were empty. Fear was upon the -merchants and they would not send goods across the great river into -turbulent Shensi. - -Already, so said my interpreter, and I judged the truth of his statement -by the empty pack-saddles, they were fearing to send goods into the -mountains at all. It was pleasant for me. I began to think. I had only -Buchanan to consult, and he had one great drawback, he always agreed -that what I thought was likely to be right. It is an attitude of mind -that I greatly commend in my friends and desire to encourage, but there -are occasions in life when a little perfectly disinterested advice would -be most acceptable, and that I could not get. Badly I wanted to cross -Asia, but I should not cross Asia if I were stopped by _tufeis_, which -is the local term for robbers. Were these rumours anything, or were -they manufactured by my interpreter? There were the warnings of the -missionaries, and there were the empty pack-saddles, and the empty -pack-saddles spoke loudly. Still I thought I might go on a little -farther, and James Buchanan encouraged me. - -Truly the way to the great river through the mountains was hard. Taking -all the difficulties in the lump, it would seem impossible to overcome -them, but taking them one by one I managed it. And not the least of my -troubles were the dogs. - -Here in the mountains was a very handsome breed of large white dogs with -long hair, at least I am sure they would have been handsome if they had -been well fed and well eared for. If it had not been for Buchanan, whose -heart it would have broken, I should certainly have got a puppy to bring -home with me. These dogs one and all waged war on my little friend, -who had a great idea of his own importance and probably aggravated the -ill-fed denizens of the inn-yards. He would go hectoring down a yard, -head up, white plume waving, with a sort of “Well, here we are! Now what -have you got to say for yourselves?” air about him, and in two seconds -more a big white scarecrow of a dog would have him by the neck, dragging -him across the yard, designing to slay him behind the drinking troughs. -He would give one shriek for help, and I would fly to that dog's head, -catch him by the ears or the ruff round his neck and be dragged along in -my turn till Tsai Chih Fu the resourceful appeared on the scene with a -billet of wood, and then the unfortunate beast would be banished from -the yard or tied up till we had gone. I remembered often the warning -I had received on the subject of hydrophobia, but I never had time to -think of that till afterwards, when, of course, if anything had happened -it would have been too late. - -There is one thing about a Chinese inn in the interior: it may be -exceedingly uncomfortable, but it is also exceedingly cheap. A night's -lodging as a rule costs forty cash. Eleven cash roughly is equal to a -cent, and a cent, again roughly--it depends upon the price of silver--is -a little less than a farthing. Forty cash, then, is hardly a penny. -Hot water costs eight cash, eggs were six cash apiece and so were the -wheaten scones I bought in place of the bread my servant could not make, -and I could buy those last as low as three cash apiece. Of course -I quite understand that I as a rich traveller paid top price for -everything, probably twice or three times as much as the ordinary -traveller; the missionaries, indeed, were shocked at the price I paid -for eggs, and again I was always rooked in the matter of paper. For even -though I preferred it, it often happened that it was impossible to sleep -in my litter in the yard, it was too crowded with beasts--and it had to -be very crowded--and then I stripped off the paper from the window of -the room I occupied to let in the air, just a little air, and I was -charged accordingly from thirty to eighty cash for my destructiveness. -I found afterwards that a whole sheet of new paper can be had for ten -cash, and the paper I destroyed was not half-a-sheet and was grimed with -the dirt of ages! Glass, of course, in the mountains of Shansi is almost -unknown and the windows are covered with white paper. - -After the mountains came a high stony plateau, not dangerous but -difficult, for though this is a great trade route there was not an -inch of smooth roadway, every step had to be carefully picked among the -stones, and presently the stream that when we entered the mountains was -a trickle a hand's-breadth across was now a river meandering among the -stones. We began by stepping across it; wider it grew and there were -stepping-stones for the walking muleteers; then the mules waded and the -muleteers climbed on to the beasts or on to the front of the litter, -which last proceeding made me very uncomfortable, for I remembered my -special man was likely at most only to have been washed twice in his -life, and I was very sure his clothes had never been washed at all and -probably had never been taken off his back since last October. Finally -we crossed by bridges, fairly substantial bridges three planks wide, but -the mules required a deal of encouraging before they would trust them -and always felt the boards gingerly with their hoofs first as if they -distrusted the Chinaman and all his engineering works. The engineering -was probably all right, but as the state of repair often left much to be -desired I could hardly blame the mules for their caution. And one day we -crossed that river twenty-six times! - -There is no charm in the country in Shansi beyond the sunshine and the -invigorating air. There were fields, every patch of land that could -possibly be made to grow a blade of wheat was most carefully tilled, -there was not a weed, not a blade of grass out of place. In some -fields the crops were springing green, in others the farmers were still -ploughing, with a patient ox in the plough; but there were no divisions -between these fields; there were no hedges; few and scanty trees; no -gardens; no farmhouses, picturesque or otherwise. The peasants all live -huddled together, literally in the hill-sides, and of the beauty of life -there was none. It was toil, toil without remission and with never a -day off. Even the blue sky and the sunshine and the invigorating dry -air must be discounted by the dirt and darkness and airlessness of -the houses and the underground _yaos_. The Chinese peasant's idea in -building a house seems to be to get rid of the light and the air, the -only two things I should have thought that make his life bearable. And -in these dark and airless caves the crippled women spend their days. -The younger women--I met them occasionally gaily clad and mounted on -a donkey--looked waxen and had an air of suffering, and the older were -lined and had a look of querulousness and irritability that was not on -the men's faces. Many an old man have I seen whose face might stand for -a model of prosperous, contented, peaceful old age looking back on a -well-lived life, but never, never have I seen such a look on a woman's -face. - -At last, after crossing a long bridge across the river, we came to Yung -Ning Chou. The dark grey wall stood out against the blue sky and, unlike -most Chinese cities that I have seen, there is no watch-tower over the -gate. It has suburbs, suburbs like Fen Chou Fu enclosed in crumbling -clay walls that are fast drifting to their inevitable end. They could -not keep out a rabbit now, let alone a man, and yet they are entered -through great brick gateways with a turn in them, and going under the -archways I felt as usual as if I had gone back to Biblical days. -The walls of the city proper, the crowded little city, are in better -preservation, and tower high above the caravans that pass round them, -for there are no inns in Yung Ning Chou and all caravans must stay in -the eastern suburb. There are narrow, stony little streets of houses -pressed close together, and the rough roadways are crowded with traffic: -people, donkeys, laden mules and grunting camels are for ever passing -to and fro. Looking up the principal street between the eastern and -the western gate was like looking up a dark tunnel in which fluttered -various notices, the shop signs, Chinese characters printed on white -calico. Most of those signs, according to my interpreter's translation, -bore a strong resemblance to one another. “Virtue and Abundance,” it -seems they proclaimed to all who could read. But there was no one to -tell me whether there was really any wealth in this little mountain -city that is the same now as it probably was a thousand years ago. I -wondered, I could not help wondering, whether it would be worth Pai -Lang's while to attack. I wondered if he could get in if he did, for -the walls were high and the gates, rising up straight and sheer -without watch towers, such piles of masonry as might have been built by -conquering Nineveh or Babylon. Here and there, though, in the walls -the water had got under the clay and forced out the bricks in long deep -cracks, and here if they were not carefully guarded were places that an -invading force might storm, and in the suburbs and among the houses that -clustered close under the protecting walls terrible things might be -done. But the western gate, I should say, is well-nigh impregnable. -Nobody but a Chinaman would have built a gate in such a place. It opens -out on to a steep cliff that falls sheer sixty feet to the river below. -Chinese towns are always built symmetrically; there should be at least -one gate in each of the four walls, therefore a gate there is here. It -seems to have occurred to no one that a gate is placed in those walls -for the convenience of traffic, and that it is simple waste of time and -labour to make a gate in a place by which no one could possibly pass. -For that matter I should have thought a wall unnecessary on top of so -steep a cliff. - -The Scandinavian missionaries who have faithfully worked Yung Ning -Chou for the last twenty years with so little result were absent when I -passed through. Only two of them live here, the rest are scattered over -the mountains to the north, and when I was in Fen Chou Fu I met a woman, -a Norwegian, who was on her way to join them. She remains in my mind a -pathetic figure of sacrifice, a wistful woman who was giving of her very -best and yet was haunted by the fear that all she was giving was of very -little worth, surely the most bitter and sorrowful reflection in this -world. She had worked in China as a missionary in her girlhood. She -explained to me how hard it was for these northern peoples, for to learn -Chinese they have first to learn English. Then she married, and after -her little girl was born her husband died and so she took her treasure -home to educate her in Norway. But she died and, feeling her duty was -to the Chinese, back came the lonely mother, and when I met her she was -setting out for the little walled city in the hills where she dwelt -with some other women. A strangely lonely life, devoid of all pleasures, -theirs must have been. I was struck with the little things that pleased -this devoted woman, such little things, and we who may enjoy them -every day go calmly on our way and never appreciate them. She wore the -unbecoming Chinese dress, with her white hair drawn baek from her face, -and her blue eyes looked out wistfully as if she were loath to give up -hope that somewhere, somehow, in the world individual happiness, that -would be for her alone, would come to her. During the revolution they, -remembering the troubles and dangers of the Boxer time, had refugeed in -Tientsin, and the days there were evidently marked with a white stone in -her calendar. - -“It was so delightful,” she said in her pretty precise English, “to see -the European children in the gardens.” - -How her heart went out to those children. They reminded her, I suppose, -of the little girl she had left behind sleeping her last sleep among the -Norwegian mountains. - -“Oh, the children!” she sighed. “It brought a lump in your throat to -look at them!” - -It brought a lump in my throat to look at her as I saw her set out for -her home with two little black-eyed Chinese girls crowded in the litter -beside her. She was taking them home from the school at Fen Chou Fu. -The loneliness of her life! The sacrifice of it! I wonder if those three -women, shut away in that little walled town, made any converts. I doubt -it, for theirs, like the Yung Ning Chou mission, was purely a faith -mission. - -Unmarried women and widows were these three women. The Yung Ning Chou -mission consists of four old bachelors and three old maids. Not for a -moment do I suppose the majority of the Chinese believe they are what -they are, men and women living the lives of ascetics, giving up all -for their faith, and the absence of children in child-loving China must -seriously handicap them in their efforts to spread their faith. Think of -the weary years of those workers toiling so hopelessly in an alien land -among a poor and alien population, whose first impulse is certainly to -despise them. All honour to those workers even though they have failed -in their object so far as human eye can see, and even though that object -makes no appeal to people like me. - -[Illustration: 0155] - -[Illustration: 0156] - -[Illustration: 0157] - -And I passed on through Yung Ning Chou, on across the stony plateau, and -at last, at a village called Liu Lin Chen, I was brought up with a sharp -turn with a tale of Pai Lang. - -I was having my midday meal. Not that it was midday. It was four -o'clock, and I had breakfasted at 6 a.m.; but time is of no account -in China. Liu Lin Chen was the proper place at which to stop for the -noonday rest, so we did not stop till we arrived there, though the -badness of the road had delayed us. I was sitting in the inn-yard -waiting for Tsai Chih Fu to bring me the eternal hard-boiled eggs and -puffed rice when Mr Wang came up, accompanied by the two muleteers, -and they--that is, the two muleteers--dropped down to the ground and -clamoured, so I made out from his excited statements that the gates of -Sui Te Chou had been closed for the last four days on account of Pai -Lang! And Sui Te Chou was the first town I proposed to stop at after I -crossed the river! If I would go to Lan Chou Fu and on through Sin Kiang -to the Russian border through Sui Te Chou I must go. There was no other -way. These days in the mountains had shown me that to stray from the -caravan road was an utter impossibility. Had I been one of the -country people conversant with the language I think it would have been -impossible. As it was, I had my choice. I might go on or I might go -back. Mr Wang apparently thought there should be no doubt in my mind. -He evidently expected I would turn tail there and then, and I myself -realised--I had been realising ever since round the table in the mission -station at Ki Hsien we had read Dr Edwards' letter--that my journey -across the continent was ended; but to turn tail in this ignominious -fashion, having seen nothing, within, I suppose, twenty-five miles of -the Yellow River, with the country about me as peaceful as the road in -Kent in which I live at present, how could I? It was more peaceful, -in fact, for now at night searchlights stream across the sky, within a -furlong of my house bombs have been dropped and men have been killed, -and by day and by night the house rocks as motors laden with armament -and instruments of war thunder past. But there in Shansi in the fields -the people worked diligently, in the village the archway over which they -held theatrical representations was placarded with notices, and in the -inn-yard where I sat the people went about attending to the animals as -if there was nothing to be feared. And I felt lonely, and James Buchanan -sat close beside me because at the other side of the very narrow yard a -great big white dog with a fierce face and a patch of mange on his side -looked at him threateningly. - -“I'll have none of your drawing-room dogs here,” said he. - -But Buchanan's difficulties were solved when he appealed to me. I--and -I was feeling it horribly--had no one to appeal to. I must rely upon -myself. - -And then to add to my woes it began to rain, soft, gentle spring rain, -growing rain that must have been a godsend to the whole country-side. - -It stopped, and Mr Wang and the muleteers looked at me anxiously. - -“We will go on,” I said firmly, “to the Yellow River.” - -Their faces fell. I could see the disappointment, but still I judged I -might go in safety so far. - -“Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang. - -“Repeat, please,” said he. So I repeated, and he said as he had said -before: - -“If you say 'Go,' mus' go.” - -And I said “Go.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII--CHINA'S SORROW - -It is better, says a Chinese proverb, “to hear about a thing than to -see it,” and truly on this journey I was much inclined to agree with -that dictum. - -We were bound for Hsieh Ts'un. I can't pronounce it, and I should not -like to swear to the spelling, but of one thing I am very sure, not one -of the inhabitants could spell it, or even know it was wrongly set forth -to the world, so I am fairly safe. - -We went under the archway with the theatrical notices at Liu Lin Chen, -under the arched gateway of the village, out into the open country, and -it began to rain again. It came down not exactly in torrents but good -steady growing rain. The roads when they were not slippery stones were -appalling quagmires, and my mule litter always seemed to be overhanging -a precipice of some sort. I was not very comfortable when that precipice -was only twenty feet deep, when it was more I fervently wished that I -had not come to China. I wished it more than once, and it rained and it -rained and it rained, silent, soaking, penetrating rain, and I saw the -picturesque mountain country through a veil of mist. - -Hsieh Ts'un is a little dirty straggling village, and as we entered it -through the usual archway with a watch tower above the setting sun broke -through the thick clouds and his golden rays strcamed down upon the -slippery wet cobblestones that paved the principal street. The golden -sunlight and the gorgeous rainbow glorified things a little, and they -needed glorifying. The principal inn, as usual, was a fairly large yard, -roughly paved, but swimming now in dirty water; there were stalls for -animals all round it, and there was a large empty shed where they stored -lime. It was stone-paved, and the roof leaked like a sieve, but here I -established myself, dodging as far as possible the holes in the roof and -drawing across the front of the shed my litter as a sort of protection, -for the inn, as usual with these mountain inns, had but one room. - -It was cold, it was dirty, and I realised how scarce foreigners must -be when through the misty, soaking rain, which generally chokes off a -Chinaman, crowds came to stand round and stare at me. I was stationary, -so the women came, dirty, ragged, miserable-looking women, supporting -themselves with sticks and holding up their babies to look at the -stranger while she ate. By and by it grew so cold I felt I must really -go to bed, and I asked Mr Wang to put it to the crowd that it was not -courteous to stare at the foreign woman when she wished to be alone, -and, O most courtly folk! every single one of those people went away. - -“You can have a bath,” said he, “no one will look”; and, all honour -give I to those poor peasants of Western Shansi, I was undisturbed. I am -afraid a lonely Chinese lady would hardly be received with such courtesy -in an English village were the cases reversed. - -Next day the rain still teemed down. The fowls pecked about the yard, -drenched and dripping; a miserable, mangy, cream-coloured dog or two -came foraging for a dinner, and the people, holding wadded coats and -oiled paper over their heads, came to look again at the show that had -come to the town; but there was no break in the grey sky, and there was -nothing to do but sit there shivering with cold, writing letters on my -little travelling table and listening to my interpreter, who talked with -the innkeeper and brought me at intervals that gentleman's views on the -doings of Pai Lang. - -Those views varied hour by hour. At first he was sure he was attacking -Sui Te Chou. That seemed to me sending the famous robber over -the country too quickly. Then it was _tufeis_--that is, bands of -robbers--that Sui Te Chou feared, and finally, boiled down, I came to -the conclusion that Sui Te Chou had probably shut her gates because the -country round was disturbed, and that she admitted no one who had not -friends in the city or could not in some way guarantee his good faith. -It served to show me my friends in Ki Hsien had been right, such -disturbed country would be no place for a woman alone. I suppose it was -the rain and the grey skies, but I must admit that day I was distinctly -unhappy and more than a little afraid. I was alone among an alien -people, who only regarded me as a cheap show; I had no one to take -counsel with, my interpreter only irritated me and, to add to my misery, -I was very cold. I have seldom put in a longer or more dreary day than -I did at Hsieh Ts'un. There was absolutely nothing to do but watch the -misty rain, for if I went outside and got wetter than I was already -getting under the leaking roof--I wore my Burberry--I had no possible -means of drying my clothes save by laying them on the hot _k'ang_ in the -solitary living-room of the inn, and that was already inhabited by many -humans and the parasites that preyed upon them. Therefore I stayed where -I was, compared my feet with the stumps of the women who came to visit -me--distinctly I was a woman's show--gave the grubby little children -raisins, and wondered if there was any fear of Pai Lang coming along -this way before I had time to turn back. If it kept on raining, would my -muleteers compel me to stay here till Pai Lang swept down upon us? -But no, that thought did not trouble me, first, because I momentarily -expected it to clear up, and secondly, because I was very sure that -any rain that kept me prisoner would also hold up Pai Lang. I could not -believe in a Chinaman, even a robber, going out in the rain if he could -help himself, any more than I could believe in it raining longer than a -day in China. - -“The people are not afraid,” I said to my interpreter as I looked at -a worn old woman in a much-patched blue cotton smock and trousers, her -head protected from the rain by a wadded coat in the last stages of -decrepitude; her feet made me shiver, and her finger-nails made me -crawl, the odour that came from her was sickening, but she liked to see -me write, and I guessed she had had but few pleasures in her weary life. - -“They not knowing yet,” said he; “only travellers know. They tell -innkeeper.” - -Yes, certainly the travellers would know best. - -And all day long he came, bringing me various reports, and said that, -according to the innkeeper, the last caravan that had passed through -had gone back on its tracks. I might have remembered it. I did remember -it--a long line of donkeys and mules. - -But the day passed, and the night passed, and the next day the sun came -out warm and pleasant, and all my doubts were resolved. My journey was -broken beyond hope, and I must go back, but turn I would not till I had -looked upon the Yellow River. - -We started with all our paraphernalia. We were to turn in our tracks -after tiffin, but Mr Wang and the muleteers were certain on that point, -everything I possessed must be dragged across the mountains if I hoped -to see it again, and I acquiesced, for I certainly felt until I got back -to civilisation I could not do without any of my belongings. - -Almost immediately we left the village we began to ascend the mountain -pass. Steeper and steeper it grew, and at last the opening in my mule -litter was pointing straight up to the sky, and I, seeing there -was nothing else for it, demanded to be lifted out and signified my -intention of walking. - -There was one thing against this and that was an attack of -breathlessness. Asthma always attacks me when I am tired or worried, and -now, with a very steep mountain to cross and no means of doing it except -on my own feet, it had its wicked way. My master of transport and Mr -Wang, like perfectly correct Chinese servants, each put a hand under my -elbows, and with Buchanan skirmishing around joyfully, rejoicing that -for once his mistress was sensible, the little procession started. It -was hard work, very hard work. When I could go no longer I sat down and -waited till I felt equal to starting again. On the one hand the mountain -rose up sheer and steep, on the other it dropped away into the gully -beneath, only to rise again on the other side. And yet in the most -inaccessible places were patches of cultivation and wheat growing. I -cannot imagine how man or beast kept a footing on such a slant, and -how they ploughed and sowed it passes my understanding. But most of the -mountain-side was too much even for them, and then they turned loose -their flocks, meek cream-coloured sheep and impudent black goats, to -graze on the scanty mountain pastures. Of course they were in charge of -a shepherd, for there were no fences, and the newly springing wheat must -have been far more attractive than the scanty mountain grasses. - -And then I knew it was worth it all--the long trek from Fen Chou Fu, -the dreary day at Hsieh Ts'un, the still more dreary nights, this stiff -climb which took more breath than I had to spare--for the view when -I arrived at a point of vantage was beautiful. These were strange -mountains. The road before me rose at a very steep angle, and all around -me were hill-sides whereon only a goat or a sheep might find foothold, -but the general effect looked at from a distance was not of steepness. -These were not mountains, rugged, savage, grand, they were gentle hills -and dales that lay about me; I had come through them; there were more -ahead; I could see them range after range, softly rounded, green and -brown and then blue, beautiful for all there were no trees, in an -atmosphere that was clear as a mirror after the rain of the day before. -Beautiful, beautiful, with a tender entrancing loveliness, is that view -over the country up in the hills that hem in the Yellow River as it -passes between Shansi and Shensi. Is it possible there is never anyone -to see it but these poor peasants who wring a hard livelihood from the -soil, and who for all their toil, which lasts from daylight to dark all -the year round, get from this rich soil just enough wheaten flour to -keep the life in them, a hovel to dwell in, and a few unspeakable -rags to cover their nakedness? As far as I could see, everyone was -desperately poor, and yet these hills hold coal and iron in close -proximity, wealth untold and unexploited. The pity of it! Unexploited, -the people are poor to the verge of starvation; worked, the delicate -loveliness of the country-side will vanish as the beauty of the Black -Country has vanished, and can we be sure that the peasant will benefit? - -[Illustration: 0166] - -[Illustration: 0167] - -Still we went up and up, and the climbing of these gentle wooing hills -I found hard. Steep it was, and at last, just when I felt I could not -possibly go any farther, though the penalty were that I should turn back -almost within sight of the river, I found that the original makers of -the track had been of the same opinion, for here was the top of the pass -with a tunnel bored through it, a tunnel perhaps a hundred feet long, -carefully bricked, and when we, breathless and panting, walked through -we came out on a little plateau with a narrow road wandering down a -mountain-side as steep as the one we had just climbed. There was the -most primitive of restaurants here, and the woman in charge--it was a -woman, and her feet were not bound--proffered us a thin sort of drink -like very tasteless barley water. At least now I know it was tasteless, -then I found it was nectar, and I sat on a stone and drank it -thankfully, gave not a thought to the dirt of the bowl that contained -it, and drew long breaths and looked around me. - -The hills rose up on either hand and away in the distance where they -opened out were the beautiful treeless hills of forbidden Shensi, just -as alluring, just as peaceful as the hills I had come through. It was -worth the long and toilsome journey, well worth even all my fears. - -Then we went down, down, but I did not dare get into my litter, the way -was too steep, the chances of going over too great, for it seems the -Chinese never make a road if by any chance they can get along without. -They were driven to bore a tunnel through the mountains, but they never -smooth or take away rocks as long as, by taking a little care, an animal -can pass without the certainty of going over the cliff. - -And at last through a cleft in the hills I saw one of the world's great -rivers and--was disappointed. The setting was ideal. The hills rose -up steep and rugged, real mountains, on either side, pheasants called, -rock-doves mourned, magpies chattered, overhead was a clear blue sky -just flecked here and there with fleecy clouds, beyond again were the -mountains of Shensi, the golden sunlight on their rounded tops, purple -shadow in their swelling folds, far away in the distance they melted -blue into the blue sky, close at hand they were green with the green -of springtime, save where the plough had just turned up patches of rich -brown soil, and at their foot rolled a muddy flood that looked neither -decent water nor good sound earth, the mighty Hoang-Ho, the Yellow -River, China's sorrow. China's sorrow indeed; for though here it was -hemmed in by mountains, and might not shift its bed, it looked as if it -were carrying the soul of the mountains away to the sea. - -There is a temple where the gully opens on to the river, a temple and -a little village, and the temple was crowded with blue-clad, -shabby-looking soldiers who promptly swarmed round me and wanted to -look in my baggage, that heavy baggage we were hauling for safety over -fourteen miles of mountain road. Presumably they were seeking arms. We -managed to persuade them there were none, and that the loads contained -nothing likely to disturb the peace, and then we went down to the river, -crossing by a devious, rocky and unpleasant path simply reeking of human -occupancy, and the inhabitants of that soldier village crowded round me -and examined everything I wore and commented on everything I did. - -They were there to guard the crossing; and far from me be it to say they -were not most efficient, but if so their looks belied them. They did not -even look toy soldiers. No man was in full uniform. Apparently they -wore odd bits, as if there were not enough clothes in the company to go -round, and they were one and all dirty, touzly, untidy, and all -smiling and friendly and good-tempered. I only picked them out from -the surrounding country people--who were certainly dirty and -poverty-stricken enough in all conscience--by the fact that the soldiers -had abandoned the queue which the people around, like all these country -people, still affect. The soldier wore his hair about four or five -inches long, sticking out at all angles, rusty-black, unkempt and -uncombed, and whether he ran to a cap or not, the result was equally -unworkmanlike. - -I conclude Chun Pu is not a very important crossing. What the road is -like on the Shensi side I do not know, but on the Shansi side I should -think the pass we had just crossed was a very effective safeguard. He -would be a bold leader who would venture to bring his men up that path -in the face of half-a-dozen armed men, and they need not be very bold -men either. Those soldiers did not look bold. They were kindly, though, -and they had women and children with them--I conclude their own, for -they nursed the grubby little children, all clad in grubby patches, very -proudly, took such good care they had a good view of the show--me--that -I could not but sympathise with their paternal affection and aid in -every way in my power. Generally my good-will took the form of raisins. -I was lavish now I had given up my journey, and my master of transport -distributed with an air as if I were bestowing gold and silver. - -He set out my table on the cobble-stones of the inn-yard in the -sunshine. I believe, had I been a really dignified traveller, I should -have put up with the stuffiness and darkness of the inn's one room, but -I felt the recurrent hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice, with a certain -steamed scone which contained more of the millstone and less of the -flour than was usual even with the scones of the country, were trials -enough without trying to be dignified in discomfort. - -And while I had my meal everybody took it in turns to look through the -finder of my camera, the women, small-footed, dirty creatures, much to -the surprise of their menfolk, having precedence. Those women vowed they -had never seen a foreigner before. Every one of them had bound feet, -tiny feet on which they could just totter, and all were clad -in extremely dirty, much-patched blue cotton faded into a dingy -dirt-colour. Most of them wore tight-fitting coverings of black cloth to -cover their scalps, often evidently to conceal their baldness, for many -of them suffered from “expending too much heart.” Baldness is caused, -say the Chinese half in fun, because the luckless man or woman has -thought more of others than of themselves. I am afraid they do not -believe it, or they may like to hide their good deeds, for they are -anything but proud of being bald. Most of the mouths, too, here, and -indeed all along the road, were badly formed and full of shockingly -broken and decayed teeth, the women's particularly. Wheaten flour, which -is the staple food of Shansi, is apparently not enough to make good -teeth. The people were not of a markedly Mongolian type. Already it -seemed as if the nations to the West were setting their seal upon them, -and some of the younger girls, with thick black hair parted in the -middle, a little colour in their cheeks, and somewhat pathetic, -wistful-looking faces, would have been good-looking in any land. - -Then I had one more good look at the river, my farthest point west on -the journey, the river I had come so far to see. It was all so peaceful -in the afternoon sunlight that it seemed foolish not to go on. The hills -of Shensi beckoned and all my fears fell from me. I wanted badly to -go on. Then came reason. It was madness to risk the _tufeis_ with whom -everyone was agreed Shensi swarmed. There in the brilliant sunshine, -with the laughing people around me, I was not afraid, but when night -fell--no, even if the soldiers would have allowed, which Mr Wang -declared they would not--I dared not, and I turned sadly and regretfully -and made my way back to Fen Chou Fu. - -Had I gone on I should have arrived in Russia with the war in full -swing, so on the whole? am thankful I had to flee before the _tufeis_ -of Shensi. Perhaps when the world is at peace I shall essay that -fascinating journey again. Only I shall look out for some companion, and -even if I take the matchless master of transport I shall most certainly -see to it that I have a good cook. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--LAST DAYS IN CHINA - -Well, I had failed! The horrid word kept ringing in my ears, the still -more horrid thought was ever in my mind day and night as I retraced my -footsteps, and I come of a family that does not like to fail. - -I wondered if it were possible to make my way along the great -waterways of Siberia. There were mighty rivers there, I had seen them, -little-known rivers, and it seemed to me that before going West again I -might see something of them, and as my mules picked their way across the -streams, along the stony paths, by the walled cities, through the busy -little villages, already China was behind me, I was thinking of ways and -means by which I might penetrate Siberia. - -At Fen Chou Fu they were kind, but I knew they thought I had given in -too easily, that I had turned back at a shadow, but at T'ai Yuan Fu I -met the veteran missionary, Dr Edwards, and I was comforted and did not -feel so markedly that failure was branded all over me when he thanked -God that his letter had had the effect of making me consider carefully -my ways, for of one thing he was sure, there would have been but -one ending to the expedition. To get to Lan Chou Fu would have been -impossible. - -Still my mind was not quite at ease about the matter, and at intervals -I wondered if I would not have gone on had I had a good cook. Rather -a humiliating thought! It was a satisfaction when one day I met Mr -Reginald Farrer, who had left Peking with Mr Purdom to botanise in Kansu -ten days before I too had proposed to start West. - -“I often wondered,” said he, “what became of you and how you had got on. -We thought perhaps you might have fallen into the hands of White Wolf -and then------” He paused. - -Shensi, he declared, was a seething mass of unrest. It would have -spelled death to cross to those peaceful hills I had looked at from -the left bank of the Hoang-Ho. We discussed our travels, and we took -diametrically opposite views of China. But it is impossible to have -everything: one has to choose, and I prefer the crudeness of the new -world, the rush and the scramble and the progress, to the calm of the -Oriental. Very likely this is because I am a woman. In the East woman -holds a subservient position, she has no individuality of her own, and -I, coming from the newest new world, where woman has a very high place -indeed, is counted a citizen, and a useful citizen, could hardly be -expected to admire a state of society where her whole life is a torture -and her position is regulated by her value to the man to whom she -belongs. I put this to my friend when he was admiring the Chinese ladies -and he laughed. - -“I admit,” said he, “that a young woman has a”--well, he used a very -strong expression, but it wasn't strong enough--“of a time when she is -young, but, if she has a son, when her husband dies see what a position -she holds. That little old woman sitting on a _k'ang_ rules a whole -community.” - -And then I gave it up because our points of view were East and West. -But I am thankful that the Fates did not make me--a woman--a member of -a nation where I could have no consideration, no chance of happiness, no -great influence or power by my own effort, where recognition only came -if I had borne a son who was still living and my husband was dead. - -[Illustration: 0176] - -[Illustration: 0177] - -[Illustration: 0178] - -On my way back to T'ai Yuan Fu I stayed at no mission station except -at Fen Chou Fu; I went by a different route and spent the nights at -miserable inns that kindly charged me a whole penny for lodging and -allowed me to sleep in my litter in their yards, and about eighty _li_ -from Fen Chou Fu I came across evidences of another mission that would -be _anathema maranatha_ to the Nonconformists with whom I had been -staying. It is curious this schism between two bodies holding what -purports to be the same faith. I remember a missionary, the wife of a -doctor at Ping Ting Chou, who belonged to a sect called The Brethren, -who spoke of the Roman Catholics as if they were in as much need of -conversion as the ignorant Chinese around her. It made me smile; yet I -strongly suspect that Mr Farrer will put me in the same category as I -put my friend from Ping Ting Chou! However, here under the care of the -Alsatian Fathers the country was most beautifully cultivated. The -wheat was growing tall and lush in the land, emerald-green in the May -sunshine; there were avenues of trees along the wayside clothed in the -tender fresh green of spring, and I came upon a whole village, men and -boys, busy making a bridge across a stream. Never in China have I seen -such evidences of well-conducted agricultural industry; and the Fathers -were militant too, for they were, and probably are, armed, and in the -Boxer trouble held their station like a fort, and any missionaries -fleeing who reached them had their lives saved. I found much to commend -in that Roman Catholic mission, and felt they were as useful to the -country people in their way as were the Americans to the people of the -towns. - -Outside another little town the population seemed to be given over to -the making of strawboard, and great banks were plastered with squares of -it set out to dry, and every here and there a man was engaged in putting -more pieces up. It wras rather a comical effect to see the side of a -bank plastered with yellow squares of strawboard and the wheat springing -on top. - -All along the route still went caravans of camels, mules and donkeys, -and, strangest of all modes of conveyance, wheel-barrows, heavily laden -too. A wheel-barrow in China carries goods on each side of a great -wheel, a man holds up the shafts and wheels it, usually with a strap -round his shoulders, and in front either another man or a donkey is -harnessed to help with the traction. Hundreds of miles they go, over the -roughest way, and the labour must be very heavy; but wherever I went -in China this was impressed upon me, that man was the least important -factor in any work of production. He might be used till he failed and -then thrown lightly away without a qualm. There were plenty glad enough -to take his place. - -I have been taken to task for comparing China to Babylon, but I must -make some comparison to bring home things to my readers. This journey -through the country in the warm spring sunshine was as unlike a journey -anywhere that I have been in Europe, Africa or Australia as anything -could possibly be. It was through an old land, old when Europe was -young. I stopped at inns that were the disgusting product of the -slums; I passed men working in the fields who were survivals of an old -civilisation, and when I passed any house that was not a hovel it was -secluded carefully, so that the owner and his womenkind might keep -themselves apart from the proletariat, the serfs who laboured around -them and for them. - -Within a day's journey of T'ai Yuan Fu I came to a little town, Tsui Su, -where there was an extra vile inn with no courtyard that I could sleep -in, only a room where the rats were numerous and so fierce that they -drove Buchanan for refuge to my bed and the objectionable insects that -I hustled off the _k'ang_ by means of powdered borax and Keating's, -strewed over and under the ground sheet, crawled up the walls and -dropped down upon me from the ceiling. Poor Buchanan and I spent a -horrid night. I don't like rats anyway, and fierce and hungry rats on -the spot are far worse for keeping off sleep than possible robbers in -the future. All that night I dozed and waked and restrained Buchanan's -energies and vowed I was a fool for coming to China, and then in the -morning as usual I walked it all back, and was glad, for Mr Wang came -to me and, after the best personally conducted Cook's tourist style, -explained that here was a temple which “mus' see.” - -I didn't believe much in temples in these parts, but I went a little -way back into the town and came to a really wonderful temple, built, I -think, over nine warm springs--the sort of thing that weighed down the -scales heavily on Mr Farrer's side. What has a nation that could produce -such a temple to learn from the West? I shall never forget the carved -dragons in red and gold that climbed the pillars at the principal -entrance, the twisted trees, the shrines over the springs and the bronze -figures that stood guard on the platform at the entrance gate. The -steps up to that gate were worn and broken with the passing of many feet -through countless years; the yellow tiles of the roof were falling and -broken; from the figures had been torn or had fallen the arms that they -once had borne; the whole place was typical of the decay which China -allows to fall upon her holy places; but seen in the glamour of the -early morning, with the grass springing underfoot, the trees in full -leaf, the sunshine lighting the yellow roofs and the tender green of the -trees, it was gorgeous. Then the clouds gathered and it began to rain, -gentle, soft, warm, growing rain, and I left it shrouded in a seductive -grey mist that veiled its imperfections and left me a 'memory only of -one of the beautiful places of the earth that I am glad I have seen. - -At T'ai Yuan Fu I paid Mr Wang's fare back to Pao Ting Fu and bade him -a glad farewell. There may be worse interpreters in China, but I really -hope there are not many. He would have been a futile person in any -country; he was a helpless product of age-old China. I believe he did -get back safely, but I must confess to feeling on sending him away -much as I should do were I to turn loose a baby of four to find his way -across London. Indeed I have met many babies of four in Australia -who struck me as being far more capable than the interpreter who had -undertaken to see me across China. - -I was on the loose myself now. I was bent on going to Siberia; but the -matter had to be arranged in my own mind first, and while I did so I -lingered and spent a day or two at Hwailu; not that I wanted to see that -town--somehow I had done with China--but because the personality of Mr -and Mrs Green of the China Inland Mission interested me. - -Hwailu is a small walled city, exactly like hundreds of other little -walled cities, with walls four-square to each point of the compass, and -it is set where the hills begin to rise that divide Chihli from Shansi, -and beyond the mission station is a square hill called Nursing Calf -Fort. The hill has steep sides up which it is almost impossible to take -any animal, but there are about one hundred acres of arable land on top, -and this, with true Chinese thrift, could not be allowed to go untilled, -so the story goes that while a calf was young a man carried it up on -his back; there it grew to maturity, and with its help they ploughed the -land and they reaped the crops. It is a truly Chinese story, and very -likely it is true. It is exactly what the Chinese would do. - -At Hwailu, where they had lived for many years, Mr and Mrs Green were -engaged in putting up a new church, and with them I came in contact with -missionaries who had actually suffered almost to death at the hands of -the Boxers. It was thrilling to listen to the tales of their sufferings, -sitting there on the verandah of the mission house looking out on to the -peaceful flowers and shrubs of the mission garden. - -When the Boxer trouble spread to Hwailu and it was manifest the mission -house was no longer safe, they took refuge in a cave among the hills -that surround the town. Their converts and friends--for they had many -friends who were not converts--hardly dared come near them, and -death was very close. It was damp and cold in the cave though it was -summer-time, and by and by they had eaten all their food and drunk all -their water, and their hearts were heavy, for they feared not only for -themselves, but for what the little children must suffer. - -“I could not help it,” said Mrs Green, reproaching herself for being -human. “I used to look at my children and wonder how the saints _could_ -rejoice in martyrdom!” - -When they were in despair and thinking of coming out and giving -themselves up they heard hushed voices, and a hand at the opening of -the cave offered five large wheaten scones. Some friends, again not -converts, merely pagan friends, had remembered their sufferings. -Still they looked at the scenes doubtfully, and though the little -children--they were only four and six--held out their hands for them -eagerly, they were obliged to implore them not to eat them, they -would make them so desperately thirsty. But their Chinese friends were -thoughtful as well as kind, and presently came the same soft voice -again and a hand sending up a basketful of luscious cucumbers, cool and -refreshing with their store of water. - -But they could not stay there for ever, and finally they made their way -down to the river bank, the Ching River--the Clear River we called it, -and I have also heard it translated the Dark Blue River, though it was -neither dark, nor blue, nor clear, simply a muddy canal--and slowly made -their way in the direction of Tientsin, hundreds of miles away. That -story of the devoted little band's wanderings makes pitiful reading. -Sometimes they went by boat, sometimes they crept along in the kaoliang -and reeds, and at last they arrived at the outskirts of Hsi An--not -the great city in Shensi, but a small walled town on the Ching River -in Chihli. Western cities are as common in China as new towns in -English-speaking lands--and here they, hearing a band was after them, -hid themselves in the kaoliang, the grain that grows close and tall as -a man. They were weary and worn and starved; they were well-nigh -hopeless--at least I should have been hopeless--but still their faith -upheld them. It was the height of summer and the sun poured down his -rays, but towards evening the clouds gathered. If it rained they knew -with little children they must leave their refuge. - -“But surely, I know,” said Mrs Green, “the dear Lord will never let it -rain.” - -And as I looked at her I seemed to see the passionate yearning with -which she looked at the little children that the rain must doom to a -Chinese prison or worse. In among those thick kaoliang stalks they could -not stay. - -It rained, the heavy rain that comes in the Chinese summer, and the -fugitives crept out and gave themselves up. - -“It shows how ignorant we are, how unfit to judge for ourselves,” said -the teller of the tale fervently, “for we fell into the hands of a -comparatively merciful band, whereas presently the kaoliang was beaten -by a ruthless set of men whom there would have been no escaping, and who -certainly would have killed us.” - -But the tenderness of the most merciful band was a thing to be prayed -against. They carried the children kindly enough--the worst of Chinamen -seem to be good to children--but they constantly threatened their elders -with death. They were going to their death, that they made very clear to -them; and they slung them on poles by their hands and feet, and the pins -came out of the women's long hair--there was another teacher, a girl, -with them--and it trailed in the dust of the filthy Chinese paths. And -Mr Green was faint and weary from a wound in his neck, but still they -had no pity. - -Still these devoted people comforted each other. It was the will of the -Lord. Always was He with them. They were taken to Pao Ting Fu, Pao -Ting Fu that had just burned its own missionaries, and put in the gaol -there--and, knowing a Chinese inn, I wonder what can be the awfulness -of a Chinese gaol--and they were allowed no privacy. Mrs Green had -dysentery; they had not even a change of clothes; but the soldiers were -always in the rooms with them, or at any rate in the outer room, and -this was done, of course, of _malice prepense_, for no one values the -privacy of their women more than the Chinese. The girl got permission -to go down to the river to wash their clothes, but a soldier always -accompanied her, and always the crowds jeered and taunted as she went -along in the glaring sunshine, feeling that nothing was hidden from -these scornful people. Only strangely to the children were they kind; -the soldiers used to give them copper coins so that they might buy -little scones and cakes to eke out the scanty rations, and once--it -brought home to me, perhaps as nothing else could, the deprivations of -such a life--instead of buying the much-needed food the women bought -a whole pennyworth of hairpins, for their long hair was about their -shoulders, and though they brushed it to the best of their ability with -their hands it was to them an unseemly thing. - -And before the order came--everything is ordered in China--that their -lives were to be saved and they were to be sent to Tientsin the little -maid who had done so much to cheer and alleviate their hard lot lay -dying; the hardships and the coarse food had been too much for her. In -the filth and misery of the ghastly Chinese prison she lay, and, bending -over her, they picked the lice off her. Think of that, ye folk who guard -your little ones tenderly and love them as these missionaries who feel -called upon to convert the Chinese loved theirs. - -After all that suffering they went back, back to Hwailu and the -desolated mission station under the Nursing Calf Fort, where they -continue their work to this day, and so will continue it, I suppose, -to the end, for most surely their sufferings and their endurance have -fitted them for the work they have at heart as no one who has not so -suffered and endured could be fitted. And so I think the whirligig of -Time brings in his revenges. - -I walked through a tremendous dust-storm to the railway station at -the other side of the town, and the woman who had suffered these awful -things, and who was as sweet and charming and lovable a woman as I have -ever met, walked with me and bade me God-speed on my journey, and when -I parted from her I knew that among a class I--till I came to China--had -always strenuously opposed I had found one whom I could not only -respect, but whom I could love and admire. - -Going back to Pao Ting Fu was like going back to old friends. They had -not received my letter. Mr Wang had not made his appearance, so when -James Buchanan and I, attended by the master of transport, appeared upon -the scene on a hot summer day we found the missionary party having their -midday dinner on the verandah, and they received me--bless their kind -hearts!--with open arms, and proceeded to explain to me how very wise a -thing I had done in coming back. The moment I had left, they said, they -had been uncomfortable in the part they had taken in forwarding me on my -journey. - -It was very good of them. There are days we always remember all our -lives--our wedding day and such-like--and that coming back on the warm -summer's day out of the hot, dusty streets of the western suburb into -the cool, clean, tree-shaded compound of the American missionaries at -Pao Ting Fu is one of them. And that compound is one of the places in -the world I much want to visit again. - -There is another day, too, I shall not lightly forget. We called it the -last meeting of the Travellers' Club of Pao Ting Fu. There were only -two members in the club, Mr Long and I and an honorary member, James -Buchanan, and on this day the club decided to meet, and Mr Long asked me -to dinner. He lived in the Chinese college in the northern suburb. His -house was only about two miles away and it could be reached generally -by going round by the farms and graves, mostly graves, that cover the -ground by the rounded north-west corner of the wall of the city. Outside -a city in China is ugly. True, the walls are strangely old-world and the -moat is a relic of the past--useful in these modern times for disposing -of unwanted puppies; Pao Ting Fu never seemed so hard up for food as -Shansi--but otherwise the ground looks much as the deserted alluvial -goldfields round Ballarat used to look in the days of my youth; the -houses are ramshackle to the last degree, and all the fields, even when -they are green with the growing grain, look unfinished. But round the -north-west corner of Pao Ting Fu the graves predominate. There are -thousands and thousands of them. And on that particular day it rained, -it rained, and it rained, steady warm summer rain that only stopped -and left the air fresh and washed about six o'clock in the evening. -I ordered a rickshaw--a rickshaw in Pao Ting Fu is a very primitive -conveyance; but it was pleasantly warm, and, with James Buchanan on my -knee, in the last evening dress that remained to me and an embroidered -Chinese jacket for an opera cloak, I set out. I had started early -because on account of the rain the missionaries opined there might be a -little difficulty with the roads. However, I did not worry much because -I only had two miles to go, and I had walked it often in less than -three-quarters of an hour. I was a little surprised when my rickshaw man -elected to go through the town, but, as I could not speak the language, -I was not in a position to remonstrate, and I knew we could not come -back that way as at sundown all the gates shut save the western, and -that only waits till the last train at nine o'clock. - -It was muddy, red, clayey mud in the western suburb when we started, -but when we got into the northern part of the town I was reminded of the -tribulations of Fen Chou Fu in the summer rains, for the water was up to -our axles, the whole place was like a lake and the people were piling -up dripping goods to get them out of the way of the very dirty flood. My -man only paused to turn his trousers up round his thighs and then went -on again--going through floods was apparently all in the contract--but -we went very slowly indeed. Dinner was not until eight and I had given -myself plenty of time, but I began to wonder whether we should arrive at -that hour. Presently I knew we shouldn't. - -We went through the northern gate, and to my dismay the country in the -fading light seemed under water. From side to side and far beyond the -road was covered, and what those waters hid I trembled to think, for -a road at any time in China is a doubtful proposition and by no means -spells security. As likely as not there were deep holes in it. But -apparently my coolie had no misgivings. In he went at his usual snail's -pace and the water swirled up to the axles, up to the floor of the -rickshaw, and when I had gathered my feet up on the seat and we were in -the middle of the sheet of exceedingly dirty water the rickshaw coolie -stopped and gave me to understand that he had done his darnedest and -could do no more. He dropped the shafts and stood a little way off, -wringing the water out of his garments. It wasn't dangerous, of course, -but it was distinctly uncomfortable. I saw myself in evening dress -wading through two feet of dirty water to a clayey, slippery bank at -the side. I waited a little because the prospect did not please me, and -though there were plenty of houses round, there was not a soul in sight. -It was getting dark too, and it was after eight o'clock. - -Presently a figure materialised on that clayey bank and him I beckoned -vehemently. - -Now Pao Ting Fu had seen foreigners, not many, but still foreigners, -and they spell to it a little extra cash, so the gentleman on the bank -tucked up his garments and came wading over. He and my original friend -took a maddeningly long time discussing the situation, and then they -proceeded to drag the rickshaw sideways to the bank. There was a narrow -pathway along the top and they apparently decided that if they could get -the conveyance up there we might proceed on our journey. First I had to -step out, and it looked slippery enough to make me a little doubtful. -As a preliminary I handed James Buchanan to the stranger, because, as he -had to sit on my knee, I did not want him to get dirtier than necessary. -Buchanan did not like the stranger, but he submitted with a bad grace -till I, stepping out, slipped on the clay and fell flat on my back, when -he promptly bit the man who was holding him and, getting away, expressed -his sympathy by licking my face. Such a commotion as there was! My two -men yelled in dismay. Buchanan barked furiously, and I had some ado to -get on my feet again, for the path was very slippery. It was long past -eight now and could I have gone back I would have done so, but clearly -that was impossible, so by signs I engaged No. 2 man, whose wounds had -to be salved--copper did it--to push behind, and we resumed our way.... - -Briefly it was long after ten o'clock when I arrived at the college. My -host had given me up as a bad job long before and, not being well, had -gone to bed. There was nothing for it but to rouse him up, because I -wanted to explain that I thought I had better have another man to take -me home over the still worse road that I knew ran outside the city. - -He made me most heartily welcome and then explained to my dismay that -the men utterly declined to go any farther, declared no rickshaw could -get over the road to the western suburb and that I must have a cart. -That was all very well, but where was I to get a cart at that time of -night, with the city gates shut? - -Mr Long explained that his servant was a wise and resourceful man and -would probably get one if I would come in and have dinner. So the two -members of the Travellers' Club sat down to an excellent dinner--a -Chinese cook doesn't spoil a dinner because you are two hours late--and -we tried to take a flash-light photograph of the entertainment. Alas! -I was not fortunate that day; something went wrong with the magnesium -light and we burnt up most things. However, we ourselves were all right, -and at two o'clock in the morning Mr Long's servant's uncle, or cousin, -or some relative, arrived with a Peking cart and a good substantial -mule. I confess I was a bit doubtful about the journey home because I -knew the state of repair, or rather disrepair, of a couple of bridges -we had to cross, but they were negotiated, and just as the dawn was -beginning to break I arrived at the mission compound and rewarded the -adventurous men who had had charge of me with what seemed to them much -silver and to me very little. I have been to many dinners in my life, -but the last meeting of the Travellers' Club at Pao Ting Fu remains -engraved on my memory. - -Yet a little longer I waited in Pao Ting Fu before starting on my -Siberian trip, for the start was to be made from Tientsin and the -missionaries were going there in house-boats. They were bound for Pei Ta -Ho for their summer holiday and the first stage of the journey was down -the Ching River to Tientsin. I thought it would be rather a pleasant -way of getting over the country, and it would be pleasant too to have -company. I am not enamoured of my own society; I can manage alone, but -company certainly has great charms. - -So I waited, and while I waited I bought curios. - -In Pao Ting Fu in the revolution there was a great deal of looting done, -and when order reigned again it was as much as a man's life was worth -to try and dispose of any of his loot. A foreigner who would take the -things right out of the country was a perfect godsend, and once it was -known I was buying, men waited for me the livelong day, and I only -had to put my nose outside the house to be pounced upon by a would-be -seller. I have had as many as nine men selling at once; they -enlisted the servants, and china ranged round the kitchen floor, and -embroideries, brass and mirrors were stowed away in the pantry. Indeed -I and my followers must have been an awful nuisance to the missionaries. -They knew no English, but as I could count a little in Chinese, when -we could not get an interpreter we managed; and I expect I bought an -immense amount of rubbish, but never in my life have I had greater -satisfaction in spending money. More than ever was I pleased when I -unpacked in England, and I have been pleased ever since. - -Those sellers were persistent. They said in effect that never before had -they had such a chance and they were going to make the best of it. We -engaged house-boats for our transit; we went down to those boats, we -pushed off from the shore, and even then there were sellers bent on -making the best of their last chance. I bought there on the boat a royal -blue vase for two dollars and a quaint old brass mirror in a carved -wooden frame also for two dollars, and then the boatmen cleared off the -merchants and we started. - -I expect on the banks of the Euphrates or the Tigris in the days before -the dawn of history men went backwards and forwards in boats like these -we embarked in on the little river just outside the south gate of Pao -Ting Fu. We had three boats. Dr and Mrs Lewis and their children had the -largest, with their servants, and we all made arrangements to mess on -board their boat. Miss Newton and a friend had another, with more of the -servants, and I, like a millionaire, had one all to myself. I had parted -with the master of transport at Pao Ting Fu, but Hsu Sen, one of the -Lewis's servants, waited upon me and made up my bed in the open part of -the boat under a little roof. The cabins were behind, low little places -like rabbit hutches, with little windows and little doors through which -I could get by going down on my knees. I used them only for my luggage, -so was enabled to offer a passage to a sewing-woman who would be -exceedingly useful to the missionaries. She had had her feet bound in -her youth and was rather crippled in consequence, and she bought her own -food, as I bought my water, at the wayside places as we passed. She -was a foolish soul, like most Chinese women, and took great interest in -Buchanan, offering him always a share of her own meals, which consisted -apparently largely of cucumbers and the tasteless Chinese melon. Now -James Buchanan was extremely polite, always accepting what was offered -him, but he could not possibly eat cucumber and melon, and when I went -to bed at night I often came in contact with something cold and clammy -which invariably turned out to be fragments of the sewing-woman's meals -bestowed upon my courtly little dog. I forgave him because of his good -manners. There really was nowhere else to hide them. - -They were pleasant days we spent meandering down the river. We passed by -little farms; we passed by villages, by fishing traps, by walled cities. -Hsi An Fu, with the water of the river flowing at the foot of its -castellated walls, was like a city of romance, and when we came upon -little marketplaces by the water's edge the romance deepened, for -we knew then how the people lived. Sometimes we paused and bought -provisions; sometimes we got out and strolled along the banks in the -pleasant summer weather. Never have I gone a more delightful or more -unique voyage. And at last we arrived at Tientsin and I parted from my -friends, and they went on to Pei Ta Ho and I to Astor House to prepare -for my journey east and north. - -And so I left China, China where I had dwelt for sixteen months, China -that has been civilised so long and is a world apart, and now I sit in -my comfortable sitting-room in England and read what the papers say of -China; and the China I know and the China of the newspapers is quite a -different place. It is another world. China has come into the war. On -our side, of course: the Chinaman is far too astute to meddle with a -losing cause. But, after all, what do the peasants of Chihli and the -cave-dwellers in the _yaos_ of Shansi know about a world's war? The -very, very small section that rules China manages these affairs, and -the mass of the population are exactly as they were in the days of the -Cæsars, or before the first dynasty in Egypt for that matter. - -“China,” said one day to me a man who knew it well commercially, just -before I left, “was never in so promising a condition. All the taxes are -coming in and money was never so easy to get.” - -“There was a row over the new tax,” said a missionary sadly, in the part -I know well, “in a little village beyond there. The village attacked the -tax-collectors and the soldiers fell upon the villagers and thirteen men -were killed. Oh, I know they say it is only nominal, but what is merely -nominal to outsiders is their all to these poor villagers. They must pay -the tax and starve, or resist and be killed.” - -He did not say they were between the devil and the deep sea, because he -was a missionary, but I said it for him, and there were two cases like -that which came within my ken during my last month in China. - -The fact of the matter is, I suppose, that outsiders can only judge -generally, and China is true to type, the individual has never counted -there and he does not count yet. What are a few thousand unpaid soldiers -revolting in Kalgan? What a robber desolating Kansu? A score or two of -villagers killed because they could not pay a tax? Absolutely nothing in -the general crowd. I, being a woman, and a woman from the new nations -of the south, cannot help feeling, and feeling strongly, the individual -ought to count, that no nation can be really prosperous until the -individual with but few exceptions is well-to-do and happy. I should -like to rule out the “few exceptions,” but that would be asking too much -of this present world. At least I like to think that most people have -a chance of happiness, but I feel in China that not a tenth of the -population has that. - -[Illustration: 0194] - -[Illustration: 0195] - -China left a curious impression upon my mind. The people are courteous -and kindly, far more courteous than would be the same class of people -in England, and yet I came back from the interior with a strong -feeling that it is unsafe, not because of the general hostility of the -people--they are not hostile--but because suffering and life count for -so little. They themselves suffer and die by the thousand. - -“What! Bring a daughter-in-law to see the doctor in the middle of the -harvest! Impossible!” And yet they knew she was suffering agony, that -seeing the doctor was her only chance of sight! But she did not get it. -They were harvesting and no one could be spared! - -What is the life then of a foreign barbarian more or less? These -courteous, kindly, dirty folk who look upon one as a menagerie would -look on with equal interest at one's death. They might stretch out -a hand to help, just as a man in England might stop another from -ill-treating a horse, though for one who would put himself out two -would pass by with a shrug of the shoulders and a feeling that it wras -no business of theirs. Every day of their lives the majority look upon -the suffering of their women and think nothing of it. The desire of the -average man is to have a wife who has so suffered. I do not know whether -the keeping of the women in a state of subserviency has reacted upon -the nation at large, but I should think it has hampered it beyond words. -Nothing--nothing made me so ardent a believer in the rights of women as -my visit to China. - -“Women in England,” said a man to me the other day, a foreigner, one -of our Allies, “deserve the vote, but the Continental women are babies. -They cannot have it.” So are the Chinese women babies, very helpless -babies indeed, and I feel, and feel very strongly indeed, that until -China educates her women, makes them an efficient half of the nation, -not merely man's toy and his slave, China will always lag behind in the -world's progress. - -Already China is split up into “spheres of influence.” Whether she likes -it or not, she must realise that Russian misrule is paramount in -the great steppes of the north; Japan rules to a great extent in -the north-east, her railway from Mukden to Chang Ch'un is a model of -efficiency; Britain counts her influence as the most important along -the valley of the Yang Tze Kiang, and France has some say in Yunnan. -I cannot help thinking that it would be a great day for China, for the -welfare of her toiling millions, millions toiling without hope, if she -were partitioned up among the stable nations of the earth--that is to -say, between Japan, Britain and France. And having said so much, I refer -my readers to Mr Farrer for the other point of view. It is diametrically -opposed to mine. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--KHARBIN AND VLADIVOSTOK - -At Tientsin I sweltered in the Astor House, and I put it on record that -I found it hotter in Northern China than I did on the Guinea coast in -West Africa. It was probably, of course, the conditions under which I -lived, for the hotel had been so well arranged for the bitter winter -it was impossible to get a thorough draught of air through any of -the rooms. James Buchanan did not like it either, for in the British -concessions in China dogs come under suspicion of hydrophobia and have -always to be on the leash, wherefore, of course, I had to take the poor -little chap out into the Chinese quarter before he could have a proper -run, and he spent a great deal more time shut up in my bedroom than he -or I liked. - -But Tientsin was a place apart, not exactly Chinese as I know -China--certainly not Europe; it remains in my mind as a place where -Chinese art learns to accommodate itself to European needs. All the -nations of the world East and West meet there: in the British quarter -were the Sikhs and other Indian nationalities, and in the French the -streets were kept by Anamites in quaint peaked straw hats. I loved -those streets of Tientsin that made me feel so safe and yet gave me a -delightful feeling of adventure--adventure that cost me nothing; and I -always knew I could go and dine with a friend or come back and exchange -ideas with somebody who spoke my own tongue. But Tientsin wasn't any -good to me as a traveller. It has been written about for the last sixty -years or more. I went on. - -One night Buchanan and I, without a servant--we missed the servant we -always had in China--wended our way down to the railway station and -ensconced ourselves in a first-class carriage bound for Mukden. The -train didn't start till some ungodly hour of the night, but as it was in -the station I got permission to take my place early, and with rugs and -cushions made myself comfortable and was sound asleep long before we -started. When I wakened I was well on the way to my destination. - -I made friends with a British officer of Marines who, with his sister, -was coming back across Russia. He had been learning Japanese, and I -corrected another wrong impression. The British do sometimes learn a -language other than their own. At Mukden we dined and had a bath. I find -henceforth that all my stopping-places are punctuated by baths, or by -the fact that a bath was not procurable. A night and day in the train -made one desirable at Mukden, and a hotel run by capable Japanese made -it a delight. The Japanese, as far as I could see, run Manchuria; must -be more powerful than ever now Russia is out of it; Kharbin is Russian, -Mukden Japanese. The train from there to Chang Ch'un is Japanese, and -we all travelled in a large open carriage, clean and, considering how -packed it was, fairly airy. There was room for everybody to lie down, -just room, and the efficient Japanese parted me from my treasured James -Buchanan and put him, howling miserably, into a big box--rather a dirty -box; I suppose they don't think much of animals--in another compartment. -I climbed over much luggage and crawled under a good deal more to see -that all was right with him, and the Japanese guards looked upon me as -a mild sort of lunatic and smiled contemptuously. I don't like being -looked upon with contempt by Orientals, so I was a little ruffled when I -came back to my own seat. Then I was amused. - -Naturally among such a crowd I made no attempt to undress for the night, -merely contenting myself with taking off my boots. But the man next me, -a Japanese naval officer, with whom I conversed in French, had quite -different views. My French was rather bad and so was his in a different -way, so we did not get on very fast. I fear I left him with the -impression that I was an Austrian, for he never seemed to have heard -of Australia. However, we showed each other our good will. Then he -proceeded to undress. Never have I seen the process more nattily -accomplished. How he slipped out of blue cloth and gold lace into a -kimono I'm sure I don't know, though he did it under my very eyes, and -then, with praiseworthy forethought, he took the links and studs out -of his shirt and put them into a clean one ready for the morrow, stowed -them both away in his little trunk, settled himself down on his couch -and gave himself up to a cigarette and conversation. I smoked too--one -of his cigarettes--and we both went to sleep amicably, and with the -morning we arrived at Chang Ch'un, and poor little Buchanan made the -welkin ring when he saw me and found himself caged in a barred box. -However that was soon settled, and he told me how infinitely preferable -from a dog's point of view are the free and easy trains of Russia and -China to the well-managed ones of Japan. - -These towns on the great railway are weird little places, merely -scattered houses and wide roads leading out into the great plain, and -the railway comes out of the distance and goes away into the distance. -And the people who inhabit them seem to be a conglomeration of nations, -perhaps the residuum of all the nations. Here the marine officer and -his sister and I fell into the hands of a strange-looking individual who -might have been a cross between a Russian Pole and a Chinaman, with a -dash of Korean thrown in, and he undertook to take us to a better hotel -than that usually-frequented by visitors to Chang Ch'un. I confess I -wonder what sort of people do visit Chang Ch'un, not the British tourist -as a rule, and if the principal hotel is worse than the ramshackle place -where we had breakfast, it must be bad. Still it was pleasant in the -brilliant warm sunshine, even though it was lucky we had bathed the -night before at Mukden, for the best they could do here was to show us -into the most primitive of bedrooms, the very first effort in the way of -a bedroom, I should think, after people had given up _k'angs_, and there -I met a very small portion of water in a very small basin alongside an -exceedingly frowsy bed and made an effort to wash away the stains of -a night's travel. Now such a beginning to the day would effectually -disgust me; then, fresh from the discomforts of Chinese travel, I found -it all in the day's work. - -I found too that I had made a mistake and not brought enough money with -me. Before I had paid for Buchanan's ticket I had parted with every -penny I possessed and could not possibly get any more till I arrived -at the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank at Kharbin. I am rather given to a -mistake of that sort; I always feel my money is so much safer in the -bank's charge than in mine. - -We went on through fertile Manchuria and I saw the rich fields that -coming out I had passed over at night. This train was Russian, and -presently there came along a soldier, a forerunner of an officer -inspecting passengers and carriages. Promptly his eye fell on Buchanan, -who was taking an intelligent interest in the scenery--he always -insisted on looking out of the window--and I, seeing he, the soldier, -was troubled, tried to tell him my intentions were good and I would pay -at Kharbin; but I don't think I made myself understood, for he looked -wildly round the compartment, seized the little dog, pushed him in -a corner and threw a cushion over him. Both Buchanan and I were so -surprised we kept quite still, and the Russian officer looked in, saw a -solitary woman holding out her ticket and passed on, and not till he -was well out of the way did James Buchanan, who was a jewel, poke up his -pretty little head and make a few remarks upon the enormity of smuggling -little dogs without paying their fares, which was evidently what I was -doing. - -We arrived at Kharbin about nine o'clock at night, and as I stepped out -on to a platform, where all the nations of the earth, in dirty clothes, -seemed yelling in chorus, a man came along and spoke to me in English. -The soldier who had aided and abetted in the smuggling of Buchanan was -standing beside me, evidently expecting some little remembrance, and I -was meditating borrowing from the officer of Marines, though, as they -were going on and I was not, I did not much like it. And the voice in -English asked did I want a hotel. I did, of course. The man said he was -the courier of the Grand Hotel, but he had a little place of his own -which was much better and he could make me very comfortable. Then I -explained I could not get any money till the bank opened next day and -he spread out his hands as a Chinaman might have done. “No matter, no -matter,” he would pay, his purse was mine. - -Would I go to his house? - -Could I do anything else under the circumstances? And I promptly took -him at his word and asked for a rouble--Kharbin is China, but the rouble -was the current coin--and paid off the soldier for his services. I bade -farewell to my friends and in a ramshackle droshky went away through the -streets of Kharbin, and we drove so far I wondered if I had done wisely. -I had, as it turned out. - -But I heard afterwards that even in those days anything might have -happened in Kharbin, where the population consists of Japanese and -Chinese and Russians and an evil combination of all three, to say -nothing of a sprinkling of rascals from all the nations of the earth. - -“There is not,” said a man who knew it well, “a decent Chinaman in the -whole place.” - -In fact to all intents and purposes it is Russian. There were Russian -students all in uniform in the streets, and bearded, belted drivers -drove the droshkies with their extra horse in a trace beside the shafts, -just as they did in Russia. Anyhow it seems to me the sins of Kharbin -would be the vigorous primal sins of Russia, not the decadent sins of -old-world China. - -Kharbin when I was there in 1914 had 60,000 inhabitants and 25,000 -Russian soldiers guarding the railway in the district. The Russian -police forbade me to take photographs, and you might take your choice: -Chinese _hung hu tzes_ or Russian brigands would rob and slay you on -your very doorstep in the heart of the town. At least they would in -1914, and things are probably worse now. All the signs are in Russian -and, after the Chinese, looked to me at first as if I should be able to -understand them, but closer inspection convinced me that the letters, -though I knew their shape, had been out all night and were coming home -in not quite the condition we would wish them to be. There is a Chinese -town without a wall a little way over the plain--like all other Chinese -towns, a place of dirt and smells--and there is a great river, the -Sungari, a tributary of the Amur, on which I first met the magnificent -river steamers of these parts. Badly I wanted to photograph them, but -the Russian police said “No, no,” I would have to get a permit from -the colonel in command before that could be allowed, and the colonel in -command was away and was not expected back till the middle of next week, -by which time I expected to be in Vladivostok, if not in Kharbarosvk, -for Kharbin was hardly inviting as a place of sojourn for a traveller. -Mr Poland, as he called himself, did his best for me. He gave me a -fairly large room with a bed in it, a chair, a table and a broken-down -wardrobe that would not open. He had the family washing cleared out of -the bath, so that I bathed amidst the fluttering damp garments of his -numerous progeny, but still there was a bath and a bath heater that with -a certain expenditure of wood could be made to produce hot water; and -if it was rather a terrifying machine to be locked up with at close -quarters, still it did aid me to arrive at a certain degree of -cleanliness, and I had been long enough in China not to be carping. - -But it is dull eating in your bedroom, and I knew I had not done wisely, -for even if the principal hotel had been uncomfortable--I am not saying -it was, because I never went there--it would have been more amusing to -watch other folks than to be alone. - -The day after I arrived I called upon Mr Sly, the British consul, and I -was amused to hear the very dubious sounds that came from his room when -I was announced. - -I cleared the air by saying hastily: “I'm not a distressed British -subject and I don't want any money,” though I'm bound to say he looked -kind enough to provide me with the wherewithal had I wanted it. Then he -shook his head and expressed his disapproval of my method of arrival. - -“The last man who fell into Kharbin like that,” said he, “I hunted for -a week, and two days later I attended his funeral,” so badly had he been -man-handled. But that man, it seems, had plenty of money; it was wisdom -he lacked. My trouble was the other way, certainly as far as money was -concerned. It would never have been worth anyone's while to harm me for -the sake of my possessions. I had fallen into the hands of a Polish -Jew named Polonetzky, though he called himself Poland to me, feeling, I -suppose, my English tongue was not equal to the more complicated word, -and he dwelt in the Dome Stratkorskaya--remember Kharbin is China--and -I promised if he dealt well by me that I would recommend his -boarding-house to all my friends bound for Kharbin. He did deal well by -me. So frightened was he about me that he would not let me out of his -sight, or if he were not in attendance his wife or his brother was -turned on to look after me. - -“I am very good friends,” said he, “with Mr Sly at present. I do not -want anything to happen.” - -Mr Sly, we found, knew one of my brothers and he very kindly asked me -to dinner. That introduced me to the élite of the place, and after -dinner--Chinese cooks are still excellent on the borders--we drove in -his private carriage and ended the evening in the public gardens. -The coachmen here are quite gorgeous affairs; no matter what their -nondescript nationality--they are generally Russians, I think, though I -have seen Chinamen, Tartars, driving like Jehu the son of Nimshi--they -wear for full livery grey beaver hats with curly brims like Johnny -Walker or the Corinthians in the days of the Regent. It took my breath -away when I found myself bowling along behind two of these curly brimmed -hats that I thought had passed away in the days of my grandfather. - -The gardens at Kharbin are a great institution. There in the summer's -evening the paths were all lined with lamps; there were open-air -restaurants; there were bands and fluttering flags; there were the most -excellent ices and insidious drinks of all descriptions, and there were -crowds of gaily dressed people--Monte Carlo in the heart of Central -Asia! Kharbin in the summer is hot, very hot, and Kharbin in the winter -is bitter cold. It is all ice and snow and has a temperature that ranges -somewhere down to 40° Fahrenheit below zero, and this though the sun -shines brilliantly. It is insidious cold that sneaks on you and takes -you unawares, not like the bleak raw cold of England that makes the very -most of itself. They told me a tale of a girl who had gone skating and -when she came off the ice found that her feet were frozen, though she -was unaware of her danger and had thought them all right. Dogs are often -frozen in the streets and Chinamen too, for the Chinaman has a way of -going to sleep in odd places, and many a one has slept his last sleep in -the winter streets of Kharbin--the wide straggling streets with houses -and gardens and vacant spaces just like the towns of Australia. A -frontier town it is in effect. We have got beyond the teeming population -of China. - -And then I prepared to go first east to Vladivostok and then north -to Siberia, and I asked advice of both the British consul and my -self-appointed courier, Mr Poland. - -Certainly he took care of me, and the day before I started east he -handed me over to his wife and suggested she should take me to the -market and buy necessaries for my journey. It was only a little over -twenty-four hours so it did not seem to me a matter of much consequence, -but I felt it would be interesting to walk through the market. It was. - -This class of market, I find, is very much alike all over the world -because they sell the necessaries of life to the people and it is only -varied by the difference of the local products. Kharbin market was -a series of great sheds, and though most of the stalls were kept by -Chinamen, it differed from a market in a Chinese town in the fact that -huge quantities of butter and cheese and cream were for sale. Your true -Chinaman is shocked at the European taste for milk and butter and cream. -He thinks it loathsome, and many a man is unable to sit at table and -watch people eat these delicacies. Just as, of course, he is shocked at -the taste that would put before a diner a huge joint of beef or mutton. -These things Chinese refinement disguises. I suspect the proletariat -with whom I came in contact in Shansi would gladly eat anything, but -I speak of the refined Chinaman. Here in this market, whether he was -refined or not, he had got over these fancies and there was much butter -and delicious soured cream for sale. My Polish Jewess and I laboured -under the usual difficulty of language, but she made me understand I had -better buy a basket for my provisions, a plate, a knife, a fork--I had -left these things behind in China, not thinking I should want them--a -tumbler and a couple of kettles. No self-respecting person, according to -her, would dream of travelling in Siberia without at least a couple -of kettles. I laid in two of blue enamel ware and I am bound to say I -blessed her forethought many and many a time. - -Then we proceeded to buy provisions, and here I lost my way. She engaged -a stray Chinaman, at least I think he was a Chinaman, with a dash of the -gorilla in him, to carry the goods, and I thought she was provisioning -her family against a siege or that perhaps there was only one market -a month in Kharbin. Anyhow I did not feel called upon to interfere. It -didn't seem any concern of mine and she had a large little family. We -bought bread in large quantities, ten cucumbers, two pounds of butter, -two pounds of cream--for these we bought earthenware jars--two dozen -bananas, ten eggs and two pounds of tea. And then I discovered these -were the provisions for my journey to Vladivostok, twenty-seven hours -away! I never quite knew why I bought provisions at all, for the train -stopped at stations where there were restaurants even though there was -no restaurant car attached to it. Mr Sly warned me to travel first class -and I had had no thought of doing aught else, for travelling is very -cheap and very good in Russia, but Mr Poland thought differently. - -“I arrange,” said he, “I arrange, and you see if you are not -comfortable.” - -I am bound to say I was, very comfortable, for Buchanan and I had a -very nice second-class carriage all to ourselves. At every station a -conductor appeared to know if I wanted boiling water, and we had any -amount of good things to eat, for the ten eggs had been hard boiled -by Mrs “Poland,” and the bread and butter and cream and cucumbers and -bananas were as good as ever I have tasted. I also had two pounds of -loaf sugar, German beet, I think, and some lemons. - -And so we went east through the wooded hills of Manchuria. They were -covered with lush grass restfully green, and there were flowers, purple -and white and yellow and red, lifting their starry faces to the cloudy -sky, and a soft damp air blew in through the open window. Such a change -it was after China, with its hard blue skies, brilliant sunshine and -dry, invigorating air. But the Manchus were industrious as the Chinese -themselves, and where there were fields the crops were tended -as carefully as those in China proper, only in between were the -pasture-lands and the flowers that were a delight to me, who had not -seen a flower save those in pots since I came to China. - -I spread out my rugs and cushions and, taking off my clothes and getting -into a kimono--also bought in the Kharbin market; a man's kimono as the -women's are too narrow--I slept peacefully, and in the morning I found -we had climbed to the top of the ridge, the watershed, the pleasant -rain was falling softly, all around was the riotous green, and peasants, -Russian and Chinese, came selling sweet red raspberries in little -baskets of green twigs. - -And the flowers, the flowers of Siberia! After all I had heard about -them, they were still something more beautiful than I could have hoped -for; and then the rain passed, the life-giving rain, the rain that -smoothed away all harshness and gave such a charm and a softness to the -scenery. And it was vast. China was so crowded I never had a sense of -vastness there; but this was like Australia, great stretches of land -under the sky, green, rich lush green, and away in the distance was a -dim line of blue hills. Then would come a little corrugated-iron-roofed -town sprawled out over the mighty plain, a pathway to it across the -surrounding green, and then the sun came out and the clouds threw great -shadows and there was room to see the outline of their shapes on the -green grass. - -There were Chinese still on the stations, but they were becoming more -and more Russianised. They still wore queues, but they had belted -Russian blouses and top-boots, and they mixed on friendly terms with -flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Russians similarly attired. And the evening -shadows gathered again and in the new world we steamed into Vladivostok. - -The Russians I came across did not appreciate fresh air. The porter of a -hotel captured me and Buchanan, and when we arrived on a hot July night -I was shown into a bedroom with double windows hermetically sealed and -the cracks stopped up with cotton wool! - -I protested vehemently and the hotel porter looked at me in -astonishment. Tear down those carefully stopped-up cracks! Perish the -thought. However, I persuaded him down that cotton wool must come, and -he pulled it down regretfully. I called at the British consulate next -day and asked them to recommend me to the best hotel, but they told me -I was already there and could not better myself, so I gave myself up -to exploring the town in the Far East where now the Czech Slovaks have -established themselves. - -It is a beautifully situated town set in the hills alongside a narrow -arm of the sea, rather a grey sea with a grey sky overhead, and the -hills around were covered with the luxuriant green of midsummer, -midsummer in a land where it is winter almost to June. The principal -buildings in Vladivostok are rather fine, but they are all along the -shore, and once you go back you come into the hills where the wood-paved -streets very often are mere flights of steps. It is because of that -sheltered arm of the sea that here is a town at all. - -Along the shore are all manner of craft. The British fleet had come on -a visit, and grey and grim the ships lay there on the grey sea, like a -Turner picture, with, for a dash of colour, the Union Jacks. The Russian -fleet was there too, welcoming their guests, and I took a boat manned -by a native of the country, Mongolian evidently, with, of course, an -unknown tongue, but whether he was Gold or Gilyak I know not. He was a -good boatman, for a nasty little sea got up and James Buchanan told me -several times he did not like the new turn our voyaging had taken, and -then, poor little dog, he was violently sick. I know the torments of -sea-sickness are not lightly to be borne, so after sailing round the -fleets I went ashore and studied the shipping from the firm land. - -I was glad then that Mr Sly at Kharbin had insisted that I should see -the Russian port. The whole picture was framed in green, soft tender -green, edged with grey mist, and all the old forgotten ships of wood, -the ships that perhaps were sailed by my grandfather in the old East -India Company, seemed to have found a resting-place here. They were -drawn up against the shore or they were going down the bay with all -their sails set, and the sunlight breaking through the clouds touched -the white sails and made them mountains of snow. There was shipbuilding -going on too, naturally--for are there not great stores of timber in the -forests behind?--and there were ships unloading all manner of things. -Ships brought vegetables and fruit; ships brought meat; there were -fishing-boats, hundreds of them close against each other along the -shore, and on all the small ships, at the mast-heads, were little -fluttering white butterflies of flags. What they were there for I do -not know, or what they denoted. Oh, the general who commands the Czech -Slovaks has a splendid base. I wish him all success. And here were the -sealing-ships, the ships that presently would go up to the rookeries to -bring away the pelts. - -One of my brothers was once navigating lieutenant on the British ship -that guarded the rookeries “north of 53°,” and I remembered, as Buchanan -and I walked along the shore, the tales he had told me of life in these -parts. His particular ship had acquired two sheep, rather an acquisition -for men who had lived long off the Chinese coast, and had a surfeit of -chickens; so while they were eating one, thinking to save the other a -long sea voyage they landed him on an island, giving him in charge of -the man, an Aleut Indian, my brother called him, who ruled the little -place. Coming back they were reduced to salt and tinned food, but they -cheered themselves with thoughts of the mutton chops that should regale -them when they met again their sheep. Alas for those sailor-men! They -found the Indian, but the sheep was not forthcoming. - -His whilom guardian was most polite. He gave them to understand he was -deeply grieved, but unfortunately he had been obliged to slay the sheep -as he was killing the fowls! - -The ward-room mess realised all too late that mutton was appreciated in -other places than on board his Majesty's ships. - -I thought all the races of the earth met in Kharbin, but I don't know -that this port does not run it very close. There were Japanese, Chinese, -Russians, Koreans in horsehair hats and white garments; there were the -aboriginal natives of the country and there were numberless Germans. -And then, in July, 1914, these people, I think, had no thought of the -World's War. - -And here I came across a new way of carrying, for all the porters had -chairs strapped upon their backs and the load, whatever it was, was -placed upon the chair. Of all ways I have seen, that way strikes me as -being the best, for the weight is most evenly distributed. Most of the -porters, I believe, were Koreans, though they did not wear white; nor -did they wear a hat of any description; their long black, hair was -twisted up like a woman's, but they were vigorous and stalwart. We left -weakness behind us in China. Here the people looked as if they were -meat-fed, and though they might be dirty--they generally were--they all -looked as if they had enough. - -Always the principal streets were thronged with people. At night the -town all lighted up is like a crescent of sparkling diamonds flung -against the hill-sides, and when I went to the railway station to take -train for Kharbarosvk, thirty hours away, at the junction of the Ussuri -and the Amur, that large and spacious building was a seething mass of -people of apparently all classes and all nationalities, and they were -giving voice to their feelings at the top of their lungs. Everybody, I -should think, had a grievance and was makin the most of it. I had not -my capable Mr Poland to arrange for me, so I went first class--the exact -fare I have forgotten, but it was ridiculously low--and Buchanan and I -had a compartment all to ourselves. Indeed I believe we were the only -first-class passengers. I had my basket and my kettles and I had laid in -store of provisions, and we went away back west for a couple of hours, -and then north into the spacious green country where there was room and -more than room for everybody. - - - - -CHAPTER X--ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREAT RIVERS - -All the afternoon we went back on our tracks along the main line, the -sea on one side and the green country, riotous, lush, luxuriant, on the -other, till at last we reached the head of the gulf and took our last -look at the Northern Sea; grey like a silver shield it spread before us, -and right down to the very water's edge came the vivid green. And then -we turned inland, and presently we left the main line and went north. -Above was the grey sky, and the air was soft and cool and delicious. -I had had too much stimulation and I welcomed, as I had done the rains -after the summer in my youth, the soft freshness of the Siberian summer. - -There were soldiers everywhere, tall, strapping, virile Russians; there -were peasants in belted, blouses, with collars all of needlework; and -there were Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, and the natives of the country, -men with a strong Mongolian cast of countenance. The country itself was -strangely empty after teeming China, but these all travelled by train -or were to be found on the railway stations and at the fishing stations -that we passed, but apparently I was the only bloated aristocrat who -travelled first class. In normal times this made travelling fairly easy -in Russia, for it was very cheap and you could generally get a carriage -to yourself. - -Oh! but it was lovely; the greenness of the country was a rest to eyes -wearied with the dust and dirt of China. And there were trees--not trees -denuded of all but enough timber to make a bare livelihood possible, but -trees growing luxuriantly in abundant leaf after their own free will, -oaks and firs and white-stemmed, graceful birches bending daintily -before the soft breeze. At the stations the natives, exactly like -Chinamen, dirty and in rags, brought strawberries for sale; and there -were always flowers--purple vetches and gorgeous red poppies, tall -foxgloves and blue spikes of larkspur. The very antithesis of China it -was, for this was waste land and undeveloped. The very engines were run -with wood, and there were stacks of wood by the wayside waiting to be -burnt. I was sorry--I could not but be sorry. I have seen my own people -cut down the great forests of Western Victoria, and here were people -doing the same, with exactly the same wanton extravagance, and in this -country, with its seven months of bitter winter, in all probability the -trees take three times as long to come to maturity. But it is virgin -land, this glorious fertile country, and was practically uninhabited -till the Russian Government planted here and there bands of Cossacks -who, they say, made no endeavour to develop the land. The Koreans and -the Japanese and the Chinese came creeping in, but the Russians made -an effort to keep them out. But still the population is scanty. Always, -though it was before the war, there were soldiers--soldiers singly, -soldiers in pairs, soldiers in little bands; a horseman appeared on a -lonely road, he was a soldier; a man came along driving a cart, he was a -soldier; but the people we saw were few, for the rigours of this lovely -land in the winter are terrible, and this was the dreaded land where -Russia sent her exiles a long, long way from home. - -Farther we went into the hills; a cuckoo called in the cool and dewy -morning; there were lonely little cottages with wooden roofs and log -walls; there were flowering creepers round the windows, and once I saw -a woman's wistful face peeping out at the passing train, the new train -that at last was bringing her nearer the old home and that yet seemed to -emphasise the distance. We went along by a river, the Ussuri, that wound -its way among the wooded green hills and by still pools of water that -reflected in their depths the blue sky, soft with snow-white clouds. A -glorious land this land of exile! At the next station we stopped at -the people were seated at a table having a meal under the shade of the -trees. Then there was a lonely cross of new wood; someone had been laid -in his long last home in the wilderness and would never go back to -Holy Russia again; and again I thought of the woman's wistful face that -peered out of the flower-bordered window. - -This is a new line. Formerly the way to Kharbarosvk was down the Amur -river from the west, and that, I suppose, is why all this country of the -Amur Province south and east of the river is so lonely. - -As we neared Kharbarosvk came signs of settlement, the signs of -settlement I had been accustomed to in Australia. There were tree -stumps, more and more, and anything more desolate than a forest of -newly cut tree stumps I don't know. It always spells to me ruthless -destruction. I am sure it did here, for they cut down recklessly, -sweeping all before them. It seemed to cry out, as all newly settled -land that ever I have seen, and I have seen a good deal, the distaste of -the people who here mean to make their homes. These are not our trees, -they say; they are not beautiful like the trees of our own old home; let -us cut them down, there are plenty; by and by when we have time, when -we are settled, we will plant trees that really are worth growing. We -shall not see them, of course, our children will benefit little; but -they will be nice for our grandchildren, if we hold on so long. But -no one believes they will stay so long; they hope to make money and go -back. Meanwhile they want the timber, but they neglect to plant fresh -trees. - -They wanted the timber to build Kharbarosvk. This is a town of the -outposts, a frontier town; there are no towns like it in the British -Isles, where they value their land and build towns compactly, but I have -seen its counterpart many a time in Australia, and I know there must be -its like in America and Canada. It straggled all along the river bank, -and its wide streets, streets paved, or rather floored, here and there -with planks of wood, were sparsely planted with houses. In one respect -Australian towns of the frontier are much wiser. When there is a train -they do build their stations with some regard for the comfort and -convenience of the inhabitants. In Russia wherever I have been the -railway station is a long distance, sometimes half-an-hour's drive, from -the town it serves. I suppose it is one of the evils of the last bad -regime and that in the future, the future which is for the people, it -will be remedied, but it is difficult to see what purpose it serves. I -had to get a droshky to the hotel. We drove first along a country road, -then through the wide grass-grown streets of the town, and I arrived -at the principal hotel, kept by a German on Russian lines, for the -restaurant was perfectly distinct from the living-rooms. I put it on -record it was an excellent restaurant; I remember that cold soup--the -day was hot--and that most fragrant coffee still. - -From the windows of my bedroom I saw another of the world's great -rivers. I looked away over a wide expanse of water sparkling in the -sunshine: it was the junction of the Ussuri and the Amur, and it was -like a great lake or the sea. It was very, very still, clear as glass, -and the blue sky and white clouds were reflected in it, and there were -green islands and low green banks. All was colour, but soft colour -without outlines, like a Turner picture. - -The Amur is hard frozen for about five months of the year and for about -two more is neither good solid ice nor navigable water. It is made by -the joining of the Shilka and the Aigun in about lat. 53° N. 121° E., -and, counting in the Shilka, must be nearly three thousand miles in -length, and close on two thousand miles have I now travelled. I -don't know the Amur, of course, but at least I may claim to have been -introduced to it, and that, I think, is more than the majority of -Englishmen may do. And oh, it is a mighty river! At Kharbarosvk, over a -thousand versts--about six hundred and forty miles--from the sea, it -is at least a mile and a third wide, and towards the mouth, what with -backwaters and swamps, it takes up sometimes about forty miles of -country, while the main channel is often nearly three miles wide. It -rises in the hills of Trans-Baikal--the Yablonoi Mountains we used to -call them when I was at school. Really I think it is the watershed that -runs up East Central Siberia and turns the waters to the shallow Sea of -Okhotsk; and it cuts its way through wooded hills among rich land hardly -as yet touched by agriculture, beautiful, lovely hills they are, steep -and wooded. It climbs down into the flat country and then again, just -before it reaches the sea, it is in the hills, colder hills this time, -though the Amur falls into the sea on much the same parallel of latitude -as that which sees it rise, only it seems to me that the farther you get -east the colder and more extreme is the climate. For Nikolayeusk at the -mouth is in the same latitude as London, but as a port it is closed for -seven months of the year. True, the winter in Siberia is lovely, bright, -clear cold, a hard, bright clearness, but the thermometer is often down -below -40° - -Fahrenheit, and when that happens life is difficult for both man and -beast. No wonder it is an empty river. The wonder to me is that there -should be so much life as there is. For in those five months that it -is open fine large steamers run from Nikolayeusk by Ivharbarosvk to -Blagovesehensk, and smaller ones, but still rather fine, to Stretensk, -where river navigation, for steamers of any size at any rate, ceases. -There are the two months, April-May, September-October, when the river -cannot be used at all, and there are the winter months when it may be, -and is to a certain extent, used as a road, but with the thermometer -down far below zero no one is particularly keen on travelling. It has -its disadvantages. So most of the travelling is done in the summer -months and in 1914 the steamers were crowded. Now, I suppose, they are -fighting there. It is a country well worth fighting for. - -It was a curious contrast, the lonely empty river and the packed -steamer. It was an event when we passed another; two made a crowd; -and very, very seldom did we pass more than two in a day. But it was -delightful moving along, the great crowded steamer but a puny thing on -the wide river, the waters still and clear, reflecting the blue sky and -the soft white clouds and the low banks far, far away. When there were -hills they were generally closer, as if the river had had more trouble -in cutting a passage and therefore had not had time to spread itself as -it did in the plain country. The hills were densely wooded, mostly with -dark firs, with an occasional deciduous tree showing up brightly among -the dark foliage, and about Blagovesehensk there is a beautiful oak -known as the velvet oak, the wood of which is much sought for making -furniture. However dense the forest, every here and there would be a -wide swath of green bare of trees--a fire brake; for these forests in -the summer burn fiercely, and coming back I saw the valleys thick with -the curling blue wood smoke, smelt the aromatic smell of the burning fir -woods, and at night saw the hills outlined in flames. It was a gorgeous -sight, but it is desperately destructive for the country, especially -a country where the wood grows so slowly. But at first there were no -fires, and what struck me was the vastness and the loneliness of the -mighty river. I had the same feeling on the Congo in the tropics, a -great and lonely river with empty banks, but that was for a distance -under two hundred miles. Here in the north the great lonely river went -wandering on for ten times as far, and still the feeling when one stood -apart from the steamer was of loneliness and grandeur. Man was such a -small thing here. At night a little wind sighed over the waters or swept -down between the hills; round the bows the water rose white; there was a -waste of tossing water all round, under a lowering sky, and the far-away -banks were lost in the gloom. A light would appear, perhaps two lights -shining out of the darkness, but they only emphasised the loneliness. A -wonderful river! - -The navigation of the river is a profession in itself. There is a school -for the navigators at Blagoveschensk where they are properly trained. -All along we came across the red beacons that mark the way, while beside -them in the daytime we could see the cabins of the lonely men who tended -them. - -Truly a voyage down the Amur in summer is not to be easily forgotten, -and yet, sitting here writing about it in my garden in Kent, I sometimes -wonder did I dream it all, the vastness and the loneliness and the -grandeur that is so very different from the orchard land wherein is -set my home. You do not see orchards on the Amur, the climate is too -rigorous, and I doubt if they grow much beyond berries, a blue berry in -large quantities, raspberries, and coming back we bought cucumbers. - -Oh, but it was lovely on that river. Dearly should I like to share its -delights with a companion who could discuss it with me, but somehow it -seems to be my lot to travel alone. - -Not, of course, that I was really alone. Though the steamers were -few, perhaps because they were few, they were crowded. There were two -companies on the river, the Sormovo or quick-sailing company, and the -Amur Company; and I hereby put it on record that the Amur Company is -much the best. The _John Cockerill_, named after some long-dead -English engineer who was once on the Amur, is one of the best and most -comfortable. - -At Kharbarosvk, finding the steamer did not leave till the evening of -the next day, I had naturally gone to a hotel. It seemed the obvious -thing to do. But I was wrong. The great Russian steamship companies, -with a laudable desire to keep passengers and make them comfortable, -always allow a would-be traveller to spend at least two days on board -in the ports, paying, of course, for his food. And I, who had only come -about thirty-six hours too soon, had actually put up at a hotel, with -the _John Cockerill_ lying at the wharf. The Russo-Asiatic Bank, -as represented by a woman clerk, the only one there who could speak -English, was shocked at my extravagance and said so. These women clerks -were a little surprise for me, for in 1914 I was not accustomed to -seeing women in banks, but here in Eastern Siberia--in Vladivostok, -Kharbarosvk, and all the towns of the Amur--they were as usual as the -men. - -The _John Cockerill_ surprised me as much as I surprised the bank clerk. -To begin with, I didn't realise it was the _John Cockerill_, for I could -not read the Russian letters, and at first I did not recognise the name -as pronounced by the Russians. She was a very gorgeous, comfortable -ship, with a dining saloon and a lounge gorgeous in green velvet. And -yet she was not a post steamer, but spent most of her time drawing -barges laden with cargo, and stopped to discharge and take in at all -manner of lonely little ports on the great river. She was a big steamer, -divided into four classes, and was packed with passengers: Russians -in the first, second and third class, with an occasional German or -Japanese, and in the fourth an extraordinary medley of poorer Russians, -Chinese and Gilyaks and Golds, the aboriginals of the country, men with -a Mongolian east of countenance, long coarse blaek hair, very often -beards, and dirty--the ordinary poor Chinaman is clean and tidy beside -them. - -But the first class was luxurious. We had electric light and hot and -cold water. The cabins were not to hold more than two, and you brought -your own bedding. I dare say it could have been hired on the steamer, -but the difficulty of language always stood in my way, and once away -from the seaboard in North-Eastern Asia the only other European language -beside Russian that is likely to be understood is German, and I have no -German. I was lucky enough on the _John Cockerill_ to find the wife of -a Russian colonel who spoke a little English. She, with her husband, was -taking a summer holiday by journeying up to Nikolayeusk, and she very -kindly took Buchanan and me under her wing and interpreted for us. It -was very nice for me, and the only thing I had to complain of on that -steamer was the way in which the night watch promenading the deek shut -my window and slammed to the shutters. They did it every night, with a -care for my welfare I could have done without. In a river steamer -the cabins are all in the centre with the deck round, and the watch -evidently could not understand how any woman could really desire to -sleep under an open window. I used to get up early in the morning and -walk round the decks, and I found that first and second class invariably -shut their windows tight, though the nights were always just pleasantly -cool, and consequently those passages between the cabins smelt like -a menagerie, and an ill-kept menagerie at that. They say Russians age -early and invariably they are of a pallid complexion. I do not wonder, -now that I have seen their dread of fresh air. Again and again I was -told: “Draughts are not good!” Draughts! I'd rather sleep in a hurricane -than in the hermetically sealed boxes in which those passengers stowed -themselves on board the river steamers. On the _John Cockerill_ the -windows of the dining saloon and the lounge did open, but on the steamer -on which I went up the river, the _Kanovina_, one of the “Sormovo” - Company, and the mail steamer, there was only one saloon in the first -class. We had our meals and we lived there. It was a fine large room -placed for'ard in the ship's bows, with beautiful large windows of glass -through which we could see excellently the scenery; but those windows -were fast; they would not open; they were not made to open. The -atmosphere was always thick when I went in for breakfast in the morning, -and I used to make desperate efforts to get the little windows that ran -round the top opened. I could not do it myself, as you had to get on the -roof of the saloon, the deck where the look-out stood, and anyhow they -were only little things, a foot high by two feet broad. But such an -innovation was evidently regarded as dangerous. Besides the fact that -draughts were bad, I have been assured that perhaps it was going to -rain--the rain couldn't come in both sides--and at night I was assured -they couldn't be opened because the lights would be confusing to other -steamers! - -Nobody seemed to mind an atmosphere you could have cut with a knife. I -am sure if the walls had been taken away it would have stood there in -a solid block--a dark-coloured, high-smelling block, I should think. I -gave up trying to do good to a community against its will and used to -carry my meals outside and have them on the little tables that were -dotted about the deck. - -After all, bar that little difficulty about the air--and certainly if -right goes with the majority I have no cause of complaint, I was in a -minority of one--those steamers made the most comfortable and cheapest -form of travelling I have ever undertaken. From Kharbarosvk to -Nikolayeusk for over three days' voyage my fare with a first-class cabin -to myself was twelve roubles--about one pound four shillings. I came -back by the mail steamer and it was fifteen roubles--about one pound -ten shillings. This, of course, does not include food. Food on a -Russian steamer you buy as you would on a railway train. You may make -arrangements with the restaurant and have breakfast, luncheon, afternoon -tea and dinner for so much a day; or you may have each meal separate -and pay for it as you have it; or you may buy your food at the various -stopping-places, get your kettles filled with hot water for a trifling -tip, and feed yourself in the privacy of your own cabin. I found -the simplest way, having no servant, was to pay so much a day--five -shillings on the big steamers, four shillings on the smaller one--and -live as I would do at a hotel. The food was excellent on the Amur -Company's ships. We had chicken and salmon--not much salmon, it was too -cheap--and sturgeon. Sturgeon, that prince of fish, was a treat, -and caviare was as common as marmalade used to be on a British -breakfast-table. It was generally of the red variety that we do not see -here and looked not unlike clusters of red currants, only I don't know -that I have ever seen currants in such quantities. I enjoyed it very -much till one day, looking over the railing into the stern of the boat, -where much of the food was roughly prepared--an unwise thing to do--I -saw an extremely dirty woman of the country, a Gilyak, in an extremely -dirty garment, with her dirty bare arms plunged to the elbow in the red -caviare she was preparing for the table. Then I discovered for a little -while that I didn't much fancy caviare. But I wish I had some of that -nice red caviare now. - -The second class differed but little from the first. There was not so -much decoration about the saloons, and on the _John Cockerill_, where -the first class had two rooms, they had only one; and the food was much -the same, only not so many courses. There was plenty, and they only paid -three shillings a day for the four meals. The people were much the -same as we in the first class, and I met a girl from Samara, in Central -Russia, who spoke a little French. She was a teacher and was going -to Nikolayeusk for a holiday exactly as I have seen teachers here in -England go to Switzerland. - -But between the first and second and the third and fourth class was a -great gulf fixed. They were both on the lower deck, the third under the -first and the fourth under the second, while amidships between them were -the kitchens and the engines and the store of wood for fuel. The third -had no cabins, but the people went to bed and apparently spent their -days in places like old-fashioned dinner-wagons; and they bought their -own food, either from the steamer or at the various stopping-places, and -ate it on their beds, for they had no saloon. The fourth class was still -more primitive. The passengers, men, women and children, were packed -away upon shelves rising in three tiers, one above the other, and the -place of each man and woman was marked out by posts. There was no effort -made to provide separate accommodation for men and women. As far as I -could see, they all herded together like cattle. - -The ship was crowded. The Russian colonel's wife and I used to walk up -and down the long decks for exercise, with Buchanan in attendance, she -improving her English and I learning no Russian. It is evidently quite -the custom for the people of the great towns of the Amur to make every -summer an excursion up the river, and the poorer people, the third and -fourth class, go up to Nikolayeusk for the fishing. Hence those shelves -crowded with dirty folk. There were troughs for washing outside the -fourth class, I discovered, minor editions of our luxurious bathrooms -in the first class, but I am bound to say they did not have much use. -Washing even in this hot weather, and it certainly was pleasantly -warm, was more honoured in the breach than in the observance. The only -drawback to the bathrooms in the first class, from my point of view, was -their want of air. They were built so that apparently there was no means -of getting fresh air into them, and I always regarded myself as a very -plucky woman when in the interests of cleanliness I had a bath. The -hot water and the airlessness always brought me to such a condition of -faintness that I generally had to rush out and lie on the couch in my -cabin to recover, and then if somebody outside took it upon them to bang -to the window I was reduced to the last gasp. - -The _John Cockerill_ was run like a man-of-war. The bells struck the -hours and half-hours, the captain and officers were clad in white and -brass-bound, and the men were in orthodox sailor's rig. One man came -and explained to me--he spoke no tongue that I could understand, but his -meaning was obvious--that Buchanan was not allowed on the first-class -deck, the rules and regulations, so said the colonel's wife, said he -was not; but no one seemed to object, so I thought to smooth matters -by paying half-a-rouble; then I found that every sailor I came across -apparently made the same statement, and having listened to one or two, -at last I decided to part with no more cash, and it was, I suppose, -agreed that Buchanan had paid his footing, for they troubled me no more -about him. - -Three or four times a day we pulled up at some little wayside place, -generally only two or three log-houses with painted doors or windows, an -occasional potato patch and huge stacks of wood to replenish the fuel -of the steamer, and with much yelling they put out a long gangway, -and while the wood was brought on board we all went ashore to see -the country. The country was always exactly alike, vast and green and -lonely, the sparse human habitations emphasising that vastness and -loneliness. The people were few. The men wore belted blouses and high -boots and very often, though it was summer, fur caps, and the women very -voluminous and very dirty skirts with unbelted blouses, a shawl across -their shoulders and a kerchief on their unkempt hair. They were dirty; -they were untidy; they were uneducated; they belonged to the very -poorest classes; and I think I can safely say that all the way from -Kharbarosvk to Nikolayeusk the only attempt at farming I saw was in a -few scattered places where the grass had been cut and tossed up into -haycocks. And yet those people impressed upon me a sense of their -virility and strength, a feeling that I had never had when moving among -the Chinese, where every inch of land--bar the graves--is turned to good -account. Was it the condition of the women? I wonder. I know I never saw -one of those stalwart women pounding along on her big flat feet without -a feeling of gladness and thankfulness. Here at least was good material. -It was crude and rough, of course, but it was there waiting for the -wheel of the potter. Shall we find the potter in the turmoil of the -revolution and the war? - -We went on, north, north with a little of east, and it grew cooler and -the twilight grew longer. I do not know how other people do, but I count -my miles and realise distances from some distance I knew well in my -youth. So I know that from Kharbarosvk to Nikolaycusk is a little -farther away than is Melbourne from Sydney; and always we went by way of -the great empty land, by way of the great empty river. Sometimes far -in the distance we could see the blue hills; sometimes the hills were -close; but always it was empty, because the few inhabitants, the house -or two at the little stopping-places where were the piles of wood for -the steamer, but emphasised the loneliness and emptiness. You could have -put all the people we saw in a street of a suburb of London and lost -them, and I suppose the distance traversed was as far as from London to -Aberdeen. It was a beautiful land, a land with a wondrous charm, but it -is waiting for the colonist who will dare the rigours of the winter and -populate it. - -At last we steamed up to the port of Nikolayeusk, set at the entrance of -the shallow Sea of Okhotsk, right away in the east of the world. When I -set foot upon the wharf among all the barrels with which it was packed I -could hardly believe I had come so far east, so far away from my regular -beat. One of my brothers always declares I sent him to sea because my -sex prevented me from going, and yet here I was, in spite of that grave -disadvantage, in as remote a corner of the earth as even he might have -hoped to attain. - -It was a July day, sunny and warm. They had slain an Austrian archduke -in Serbia and the world was on the verge of the war of the ages, but -I knew nothing of all that. I stepped off the steamer and proceeded to -investigate Nikolayeusk, well satisfied with the point at which I had -arrived. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--THE ENDS OF THE EARTH - -Nikolayeusk seemed to me the ends of the earth. I hardly know why it -should have done so, for I arrived there by way of a very comfortable -steamer and I have made my way to very much more ungetatable places. I -suppose the explanation is that all the other places I have visited I -had looked up so long on the map that when I arrived I only felt I was -attaining the goal I had set out to reach, whereas I must admit I had -never heard of Nikolayeusk till Mr Sly, the British consul, sketched -it out as the end of my itinerary on the Siberian rivers, and ten days -later I found myself in the Far Eastern town. I remember one of my -brothers writing to me once from Petropaulovski: - -“I always said my address would some day be Kamseatkha and here I am!” - -Well, I never said my address would be Nikolayeusk because I had never -heard of it, but here I was nevertheless. The weather was warm, the sun -poured down from a cloudless blue sky, and in the broad, grass-grown -streets, such streets have I seen in Australian towns, when the faint -breeze stirred the yellow dust rose on the air. And the town straggled -all along the northern side of the river, a town of low, one-storeyed -wooden houses for the most part, with an occasional two-storeyed house -and heavy shutters to all the windows. There was a curious absence -of stone, and the streets when they were paved at all were, as in -Kharbarosvk, lines of planks, sometimes three, sometimes five planks -wide, with a waste of dust or mud or grass, as the case might be, on -either side. - -The Russians I found kindness itself. In Vladivostok I had met a man -who knew one of my brothers--I sometimes wonder if I could get to such -a remote corner of the earth that I should not meet someone who knew -one of these ubiquitous brothers of mine--and this good friend, having -sampled the family, took me on trust and found someone else who -would give me a letter to the manager of the Russo-Asiatic Bank at -Nikolayeusk. This was a godsend, for Mr Pauloff spoke excellent English, -and he and his corresponding clerk, a Russian lady of middle age who had -spent a long time in France, took me in hand and showed me the sights. -Madame Schulmann and I and Buchanan drove all over the town in one of -the most ancient victorias I have ever seen--the most ancient are in -Saghalien, which is beyond the ends of the earth--and she very kindly -took me to a meal at the principal hotel. I was staying on board the -steamer while I looked around me. The visit with this lady decided me -not to go there. It wras about four o'clock in the afternoon, so I don't -know whether our meal was dinner or tea or luncheon; we had good soup, -I remember, and nice wine, to say nothing of excellent coffee, but the -atmosphere left much to be desired. I don't suppose the windows ever -had been opened since the place was built, and no one seemed to see any -necessity for opening them. My hostess smiled at my distress. She said -she liked fresh air herself but that for a whole year she had lodged in -a room where the windows would not open. She had wanted to have one of -the panes--not the window, just one of the panes--made to open to admit -fresh air, and had offered to do it at her own expense, but her landlord -refused. It would spoil the look of the room. She advised me strongly -if I wanted fresh air to stay as long as I could on board the steamer at -the wharf, and I decided to take her advice. - -The Russo-Asiatic Bank was not unlike the banks I have seen in -Australian townships, in that it was built of wood of one storey and the -manager and his wife lived on the premises, but the roof was far more -ornamental than Australia could stand and gave the touch of the East -that made for romance. The manager was good enough to ask me to dinner -and to include Buchanan in the invitation because I did not like to -leave the poor little chap shut up in my cabin. This was really dinner, -called so, and we had it at five o'clock of a hot summer's afternoon, -a very excellent dinner, with delicious sour cream in the soup -and excellent South Australian wine, not the stuff that passes for -Australian wine in England and that so many people take medicinally, but -really good wine, such as Australians themselves drink. The house was -built with a curious lack of partitions that made for spaciousness, so -that you wandered from one room to another, hardly knowing that you had -gone from the sitting-room to the bedroom, and James Buchanan going on a -voyage of discovery unfortunately found the cradle, to the dismay of his -mistress. He stood and looked at it and barked. - -“Gracious me! What's this funny thing! I've never seen anything like it -before!” - -Neither had I; but I was covered with shame when a wail proclaimed the -presence of the son and heir. - -Naturally I expressed myself--truly--charmed with the town, and Mr -Pauloff smiled and nodded at his wife, who spoke no English. - -“She hates it,” said he; “she has never been well since we came here.” - -She was white, poor little girl, as the paper on which this is written, -and very frail-looking, but it never seemed to occur to anyone that it -would be well to open the double windows, and so close was the air of -the room that it made me feel sick and faint. - -“She never goes out,” said her husband. “She is not well enough.” - -I believe there was a time in our grandmothers' days when we too dreaded -the fresh air. - -And in this the town differed markedly from any Australian towns I have -known. The double windows were all tight shut these warm July days, with -all the cracks stopped up with cotton wool, with often decorations of -coloured ribbons or paper wandering across the space between. Also there -were very heavy shutters, and I thought these must be to shut out the -winter storms, but M. Pauloff did not seem to think much of the winter -storms, though he admitted they had some bad blizzards and regularly the -thermometer went down below -40° Fahrenheit. - -“No,” he said, “we shut them at night, at four in the winter and at nine -in the summer. Leave them open you cannot.” - -“But why?” I thought it was some device for keeping out still more air. - -“There is danger,” said he--“danger from men.” - -“Do they steal?” said I, surprised. - -“And kill,” he added with conviction. - -It seems that when the Japanese invaded Saghalien, the great island -which lies opposite the mouth of the Amur, they liberated at least -thirty thousand convicts, and they burnt the records so that no one -could prove anything against them, and the majority of these convicts -were unluckily not all suffering political prisoners, but criminals, -many of them of the deepest dye. These first made Saghalien an -unwholesome place to live in, but gradually they migrated to the -mainland, and Nikolayeusk and other towns of Eastern Siberia are by no -means safe places in consequence. Madame Schulmann told me that many -a time men were killed in the open streets and that going back to her -lodgings on the dark winter evenings she was very much afraid and always -tried to do it in daylight. - -Nikolayeusk is officially supposed to have thirteen thousand -inhabitants, but really in the winter-time, says Mr Pauloff, they shrink -to ten thousand, while in the summer they rise to over forty thousand, -everybody coming for the fishing, the great salmon fisheries. - -“Here is noting,” said he, “noting--only fish.” - -And this remark he made at intervals. He could not reiterate it too -often, as if he were warning me against expecting too much from this -remote corner of the world. But indeed the fish interested me. The -summer fishing was on while I was there, but that, it seems, is as -nothing to the autumn fishing, when the fish rush into the wide river in -solid blocks. The whole place then is given over to the fishing and the -other trades that fishing calls into being to support it. All the summer -the steamers coming down the river are crowded, and they bring great -cargoes of timber; the wharves when I was there were covered with -barrels and packing-cases containing, according to Mr Pauloff, “only -air.” These were for the fish. And now, when the humble mackerel costs -me at least ninepence or a shilling, I remember with longing the days -when I used to see a man like a Chinaman, but not a Chinaman, a bamboo -across his shoulder, and from each end a great fresh salmon slung, a -salmon that was nearly as long as the bearer, and I could have bought -the two for ten kopecks! - -He that will not when he may! - -But great as the trade was down the river, most eatables--groceries, -flour and such-like things--came from Shanghai, and the ships that -brought them took back wood to be made into furniture, and there -was, when I was there, quite a flourishing trade in frozen meat with -Australia, Nikolayeusk requiring about two hundred and forty thousand -pounds in the year. In winter, of course, all the provisions are frozen; -the milk is poured into basins, a stick is stuck in it and it freezes -round it, so that a milk-seller instead of having a large can has an -array of sticks on top of which is the milk frozen hard as a stone. -Milk, meat, eggs, all provisions are frozen from October to May. - -I do not know what Nikolayeusk is doing now war and revolution have -reached it. At least they have brought it into touch with the outer -world. - -And having got so far I looked longingly out over the harbour and -wondered whether I might not go to Saghalien. - -Mr Pauloff laughed at my desires. If there was nothing to see in -Nikolayeusk, there was less than nothing in Saghalien. It was dead. It -never had been much and the Japanese invasion had killed it. Not that he -harboured any animosity against the Japanese. Russians and Japanese, he -declared, were on very friendly terms, and though they invaded Saghalien -they did not disgrace their occupation by any atrocities. The Russian, -everybody declared in Nikolayeusk, bridges the gulf between the white -man and the yellow. Russian and Chinese peasants will work side by side -in friendliest fashion; they will occupy the same boardinghouses; the -Russian woman does not object to the Chinese as a husband, and the -Russian takes a Chinese wife. Of course these are the peasant classes. -The Russian authorities made very definite arrangements for keeping out -Chinese from Siberia, as I saw presently when I went back up the river. - -But the more I thought of it the more determined I was not to go -back till I had gone as far east as I possibly could go. The Russian -Volunteer fleet I found called at Alexandrovsk regularly during the -months the sea was open, making Nikolayeusk its most northern port of -call. I could go by the steamer going down and be picked up by the one -coming north. It would give me a couple of days in the island, and Mr -Pauloff was of opinion that a couple of days would be far too long. - -But the _John Cockerill_ was going back and Buchanan and I must find -another roof and a resting-place. According to the inhabitants, it would -not be safe to sleep in the streets, and I had conceived a distinct -distaste for the hotel. But the _Erivan_ lay in the stream and to -that we transferred ourselves and our belongings, where the mate spoke -English with a strong Glasgow accent and the steward had a smattering. -It was only a smattering, however. I had had a very early lunch and -no afternoon tea, so when I got on board at six in the evening I -was decidedly hungry and demanded food, or rather when food might be -expected. The steward was in a dilemma. It was distinctly too early for -dinner, he considered, and too late for tea. He scratched his head. - -“Lunch!” said he triumphantly, and ushered me into the saloon, where -hung large photographs of the Tsar, the Tsarina and the good-looking -little Tsarevitch. In the corner was an ikon, St Nicolas, I think, who -protects sailors. And there at six o'clock in the evening I meekly sat -down to luncheon all by myself. - -Lying there I had a lovely view of the town. At night, like Vladivostok, -it lay like a ring of diamonds along the shore of the river; and in -the daytime the softly rounded green hills, the grey-blue sky and the -grey-blue sea with the little white wavelets, and the little town just -a line between the green and the blue, with the spires and domes of the -churches and other public buildings, green and blue and red and white, -made a view that was worth coming so far to see. There were ships in the -bay too--not very big ships; but a ship always has an attraction: it has -come from the unknown; it is about to go into the unknown--and as I sat -on deck there came to me the mate with the Scots accent and explained -all about the ships in sight. - -The place was a fort and they were going to make it a great harbour, to -fill it up till the great ships should lie along the shore. It will -take a good time, for we lay a long way out, but he never doubted the -possibility; and meantime the goods come to the ships in the lighters -in which they have already come down the river, and they are worked by -labourers getting, according to the mate, twelve shillings a day. - -“Dey carry near as much as we do,” said he. - -Then there were other ships: a ship for fish, summer fish, for Japan, -sealers for the rookeries, and ships loading timber for Kamseatkha. I -thought I would like to emulate my brother and go there, and the Russky -mate thought it would be quite possible, only very uncomfortable. It -would take three months, said he, and it was rather late in the season -now. Besides, these ships load themselves so with timber that there -is only a narrow space on deck to walk on, and they are packed with -passengers, mostly labourers, going up for the short summer season. - -My old trouble, want of air, followed me on board the _Erivan_. On deck -it was cool, at night the thermometer registered about 55° Fahrenheit, -but in my cabin Buehanan and I gasped with the thermometer at over 90°, -and that with the port, a very small one, open. That stuffiness was -horrible. The bathroom looked like a boiler with a tightfitting iron -door right amidships, and having looked at it I had not the courage -to shut myself in and take a bath. It seemed as if it would be burying -myself alive. As it was, sleep down below I could not, and I used to -steal up on deck and with plenty of rugs and cushions lay myself out -along the seats and sleep in the fresh air; but a seat really does leave -something to be desired in the way of luxury. - -But the early mornings were delightful. The first faint light showed a -mist hanging over the green hills marking out their outlines, green -and blue and grey; then it was all grey mist; but to the east was the -crimson of the dawn, and we left our moorings early one morning and -steamed into that crimson. The sun rose among silver and grey clouds, -and rose again and again as we passed along the river and the mountains -hid him from sight. There were long streaks of silver on the broad -river; slowly the fir-clad hills emerged from the mist and the air was -moist and fragrant; the scent of the sea and the fragrance of the pines -was in it. A delicious, delicate northern sunrise it was; never before -or since have I seen such a sunrise. Never again can I possibly see one -more beautiful. - -And the great river widened. There were little settlements, the -five-pointed tents of the Russian soldiers and many places for catching -fish. No wonder the fish--fish is always salmon here--like this great --wide river. The brownish water flowed on swiftly and the morning -wind whipped it into never-ending ripples that caught the sunlight. A -wonderful river! A delightful river! I have grown enthusiastic over -many rivers. I know the Murray in my own land and the great rivers of -tropical Africa, the Congo, the Gambia, the Volta, grand and lovely -all of them. I felt I had looked upon the glory of the Lord when I had -looked upon them, but there was something in the tender beauty of the -Amur, the summer beauty veiled in mist, the beauty that would last so -short a time, that was best of all. - -Meanwhile the passengers and officers of the _Erivan_ were much -exercised in their minds over me. What could an Englishwoman want -in Saghalien? To my surprise I found that none had ever stayed there -before, though it was on record that one had once landed there from a -steamer. The mate was scathing in his remarks. - -“Dere are skeeters,” said he, “big ones, I hear,” and he rolled his -“r's” like a true Scotsman. - -“But where can I stay?” He shook his head. - -“In de hotel you cannot stay. It is impossible.” That I could quite -believe, but all the same, if the hotel was impossible, where could I -stay? - -However, here I was, and I did not intend to go back to Vladivostok by -sea. At Alexandrosvk, the town of Saghalien, I proposed to land and I -felt it was no good worrying till I got there. - -We entered De Castries Bay in a soft grey mist, a mist that veiled -the mountains behind. Then the mist lifted and showed us the string of -islands that guard the mouth of the bay, strung in a line like jewels -set in the sea, and the hills on them were all crowned with firs; and -then the mist dropped again, veiling all things. - -It was a lonely place, where I, being a foreigner, was not allowed to -land, and we did not go close up to the shore, but the shore came to us -in great white whale-boats. Many peasants and soldiers got off here, and -I saw saws and spades in the bundles, the bundles of emigrants. There -were a few women amongst them, women with hard, elemental faces, so -different from the Chinese, that were vacuous and refined. I remembered -the women who had listened to the lecturer at Fen Chou Fu and I drew -a long sigh of relief. It was refreshing to look at those big-hipped -women, with their broad, strong feet and their broad, strong hands and -the little dirty kerchiefs over their heads. Elemental, rough, rude, but -I was glad of them. One was suckling a child in the boat, calmly, as if -it were the most natural thing to do, and somehow it was good to see it. -The beginning of life. - -The morning brought a dense mist, and as it cleared away it showed us -a sparkling, smooth sea, greyish-blue like the skies above it, and a -little wooden town nestling against fir-clad hills. We had arrived at -Alexandrosvk and I wondered what would become of me. - -And then once again I learned what a kind place is this old world of -ours that we abuse so often. I had gone on board that steamer without -any introduction whatever, with only my passport to show that I was a -respectable member of society. I knew nobody and saw no reason -whatever why anyone should trouble themselves about me. But we -carried distinguished passengers on board the _Erivan_. There was the -Vice-Governor of Saghalien, his wife and son, with the soldiers in -attendance, and a good-looking young fellow with short-cropped hair and -dreamy eyes who was the Assistant Chief of Police of the island, and -this man, by command of the Governor, took me in charge. - -Never again shall I hear of the Russian police without thinking of the -deep debt of gratitude that I owe to Vladimir Merokushoff of Saghalien. - -I do not think as a rule that people land from steamers at Alexandrosvk -on to red tapestry carpets under fluttering bruiting to the strains of -a band. But we did; and the Chief of Police--he spoke no language but -Russian--motioned me to wait a moment, and when the Governor had been -safely despatched to his home he appeared on the scene with a victoria -and drove me and Buchanan to the police station, a charming little -one-storeyed building buried in greenery, and there he established us. -Buchanan he appreciated as a dog likes to be appreciated, and he gave -up to me his own bedroom, where the top pane of the window had actually -been made to open. His sitting-room was a very bower of growing plants, -and when I went to bed that night he brought his elderly working -housekeeper, a plain-faced woman whom he called “Stera,” and made -her bring her bed and lay it across my door, which opened into the -sitting-room. It was no good my protesting; there she had to sleep. Poor -old thing, she must have been glad my stay was not long. Every day she -wore a blue skirt and a drab-coloured blouse, unbelted, and her grey -hair twisted up into an untidy knot behind, but she was an excellent -cook. That young man got himself into his everyday holland summer coat -and to entertain me proceeded to lay in enough provisions to supply a -hungry school. He showed me the things first to see if I liked them, as -if I wouldn't have liked shark when people were so kind. But as a matter -of fact everything was very good. He produced a large tin of crawling -crayfish, and when I had expressed not only my approval but my delight, -they appeared deliciously red and white for dinner, and then I found -they were only _sakouska_--that is, the _hors d'ouvre_ that the Russians -take to whet their appetites. I have often lived well, but never better -than when I, a stranger and a sojourner, was taken in charge by the -hospitable Russian police, who would not let me pay one penny for my -board and lodging. We fed all day long. I had only to come in for a -bottle of wine or beer to be produced. I was given a _gens d'arme_ to -carry my camera and another to take care of Buchanan. Never surely was -stranger so well done as I by hospitable Saghalien. The policeman -made me understand he was an author and presented me with a couple of -pamphlets he had written on Saghalien and its inhabitants, but though -I treasure them I cannot read them. Then the Japanese photographer was -sent for and he and I were taken sitting side by side on the bench in -his leafy porch, and, to crown all, because I could speak no Russian, he -sent for two girls who had been educated in Japan and who spoke English -almost as well as I did myself, though they had never before spoken to -an Englishwoman. Marie and Lariss Borodin were they, and their father -kept the principal store in Alexandrosvk. They were dainty, pretty, -dark-eyed girls and they were a godsend to me. They had a tea in my -honour and introduced me to the manager of the coal mine of Saghalien -and took care I should have all the information about the island it was -in their power to supply. - -There were then about five thousand people there, one thousand in -Alexandrosvk itself, but they were going daily, for the blight of the -convict was over the beautiful land. The best coal mine is closed down -on fire and the one whose manager I met was leased to a company by the -year and worked by Chinese on most primitive lines. There is gold, -he told me, this business man who surprised me by his lavish use of -perfume, but he did not know whether it would pay for working--gold -and coal as well would be almost too much good luck for one island--and -there is naphtha everywhere on the east coast, but as it has never been -struck they think that the main vein must come up somewhere under the -sea. Still it is there waiting for the enterprising man who shall work -it. - -Saghalien used to be as bad as Nikolayeusk, they told me, after the -Japanese had evacuated the northern part; but now the most enterprising -section of the convicts had betaken themselves to the mainland, and -though the free settlers were few and far between, and the most of the -people I saw were convicts, they were the harmless ones with all the -devilment gone out of them. - -Alexandrosvk is a place of empty houses. When the Japanese came the -people fled, leaving everything exactly as it was; and though the -Japanese behaved with admirable restraint, considering they came as -an invading army, many of these people never came back again, and the -alertness in a bad cause which had sent many of the convicts there -against their will sent them away again as soon as they were free. All -down by the long wooden pier which stretches out into the sea are great -wooden storehouses and barracks, empty, and a monument, if they needed -it, to the courteous manner in which the Japanese make war. They had -burnt the museum, they told me, and opened the prison doors and burnt -the prison, but the other houses they had spared. And so there were -many, many empty houses in Alexandrosvk. - -All the oldest carriages in the world have drifted to Saghalien. - -They are decrepit in Western Siberia, they are worse, if possible, in -the East, but in the island of Saghalien I really don't know how they -hold together. Perhaps they are not wanted very often. I hired the most -archaic victoria I have ever seen and the two girls came for a drive -with me all round the town and its neighbourhood. It was a drive to be -remembered. The early summer was in all its full freshness, the red and -white cows stood knee-deep in grass that was green and lush everywhere. -There were fir-trees on the hills and on every spur of the hills, and -there were hedges with dog-roses blossoming all over them; there were -fields of dark blue iris; there were little red tiger lilies and a -spiked heliotrope flower like veronica, only each bloom grew on a single -stalk of its own; there were purple vetches and white spiræa growing in -marshy places, and the land was thick with sweet-scented clover among -which the bees were humming, and in a little village there was a Greek -church that, set in its emerald-green field, was a very riot of colour. -There were balls on the roof of royal blue, the roof itself was of pale -green, the walls were of brown logs untouched by paint and the window -edges were picked out in white. I photographed that picturesque little -church, as I did the peasant women standing at the doors of their log -huts and the queer old shandrydan in which we drove, but alas! all my -photographs perished miserably in Russia. The girls wondered that I -liked town and country so much, that I saw so much beauty in everything. - -“Ah! Madame,” they sighed, “but you can go away tomorrow! If only we -could go!” - -They had been educated at a convent and they produced the English books -they had read. They were very apologetic but they had found them rather -tame. Had I read them? I smiled, for they all turned out to be the -immortal works of Charles Garvice! - -And we had tea in the dining-room, where father slept because they were -rather crowded, the store took up so much room; and it was a very nice -tea too, with raspberry jam in saucers, which we ate Russian -fashion with a spoon, and the roses in the garden tapped against the -window-panes, asking to come in and join us, and Buchanan got what his -soul loved, plenty of cake. They apologised because there was no fruit. -No fruit save berries ripen in Saghalien and the strawberries would not -be ready till well on in August. No words of mine can tell how kind they -were to the stranger. - -I went back in the long twilight that was so cool and restful and sat -outside the leafy shaded police station and killed mosquitoes, for the -mate had heard aright, there were “skeeters” and to spare, the sort to -which Mark Twain took a gun. I watched the grey mist creeping slowly -down, down the beautiful mountains, and when it had enveloped them the -night was come and it was time to go in and have dinner and go to bed. - -Perhaps it would not do to stay long in Saghalien. There is nothing to -do. She lies a Sleeping Beauty waiting the kiss of the Prince. Will this -war awaken her? The short time I was there I enjoyed every moment. - -The people seemed nondescript. The upper class were certainly Russians, -and all the men wore military caps and had their hair clipped so close -it looked shaven, but it would be utterly impossible to say to what -nationality the peasant belonged. There were flaxen-haired Russians -certainly, but then there were dark-bearded men, a Mongolian type, and -there were many thrifty Chinese with queues, in belted blouses and -high boots, generally keeping little eating-shops. There may have been -Japanese, probably there were, seeing they hold the lower half of the -island, but I did not notice them, and there is, I am afraid, in that -place which is so full of possibilities absolutely nothing for that -go-ahead nation to do. - -My pretty girls complained dreadfully. They looked after the shop and -then there was nothing. In the winter they said they had skating and -they liked the winter best, but the really bad time in places like -Saghalien and Nikolayeusk were the two months when it was neither -winter nor summer. Then their only means of communication with the -outside world, the river and the sea, was too full of ice to admit of -navigation and yet was not solid enough for dog-sled, so that if the -telegraph broke down, and it very often did, they are entirely cut off -from the world. Saghalien, of course, is worse off than the town, for on -the mainland presumably there are roads of sorts that can be negotiated -in case of necessity, but the island is entirely isolated. In the winter -the mails take five days coming across the frozen sea from the mainland, -and often when there are storms they take much longer. Fancy living on -an island that stretches over nearly ten degrees of latitude, which -for five months in the year gets its mails by dog-sled and for two goes -without them altogether! On the whole, there may be drawbacks to living -in Saghalien! - -I left it at nine o'clock in the evening, after the darkness had fallen, -and the police officer and the pretty girls saw me on board the steamer -which was to take me back to Nikolayeusk. - -They loaded me with flowers and they were full of regrets. - -“Oh, Madame, Madame, how lucky you are to get away from Saghalien!” - -But I said truly enough that I felt my luck lay in getting there. And -now that I sit in my garden in Kent and watch the beans coming into -blossom and the roses into bloom, look at the beds gay with red -poppies and violas, cream and purple, or wander round and calculate the -prospects of fruit on the cherry and the pear trees, I am still more -glad to think that I know what manner of island that is that lies so far -away in the Eastern world that it is almost West. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--FACING WEST - -On the 25th July 1914, at nine o'clock in the evening, I left -Saghalien, and as the ship steamed away from the loom of the land into -the night I knew that at last, after eighteen months of voyaging in the -East, I had turned my face homeward. I had enjoyed it, but I wanted to -go home, and in my notebook I see evidences of this longing. At last -I was counting the days--one day to Nikolayeusk, three days to -Kharbarosvk, three days more to Blagoveschensk--and I was out in my -calculations in the very beginning. The ships of the Volunteer fleet -take their time, and we took three days wandering along the island of -Saghalien and calling at ports I should think mail steamer had never -before called at before we turned again towards the mainland. - -And yet in a way it was interesting, for I saw some of the inhabitants -of the island, the aboriginal inhabitants, I should never have otherwise -seen. Gilyaks they are, and the water seems their element. They have the -long straight black hair of the Mongolian, and sometimes they were -clad in furs--ragged and old and worn, the very last remains of -furs--sometimes merely in dirty clothes, the cast-offs of far-away -nations. - -They live by the fish. There is nothing else. - -I tried hard to photograph these aborigines, using all sorts of guile to -get them into focus. I produced cigarettes, I offered sugar, but as soon -as they found out what I was about they at once fled, even though their -boat was fastened against the gangway and it meant abandoning somebody -who was on board. I did eventually get some photographs, but they shared -the fate of the rest of my Russian pictures, and I am sorry, for I do -not suppose I shall ever again have the chance of photographing the -Gilyak in his native haunts. He belongs to a dying race, they told me, -and there are few children amongst them. - -And though we lay long at De Castries Bay they would not let me take -pictures there at all. It was forbidden, so I was reduced to doing the -best I could through my cabin port. In Alexandrosvk the police officer -had aided and abetted my picture-making, but in Nikolayeusk it was a -forbidden pastime, for the town, for purposes of photography, was a -fort, and when I boarded the _Kanovina_ on the river, the post steamer -bound for Blagoveschensk, I met with more difficulties. - -There was on board a Mrs Marie Skibitsky and her husband, the headmaster -of the Nikolayeusk “Real” School, and she spoke very good English and -was a kind friend to me. Through her came a message from the captain to -the effect that though he did not mind my photographing himself, it -was forbidden in Russia, and he begged me not to do it when anyone was -looking on. That made it pretty hopeless, for the ship was crowded and -there was always not one person but probably a score of people taking a -very great interest. The captain was not brass-bound as he had been in -the _John Cockerill_, but he and all his officers were clad in khaki, -with military caps, and it was sometime before I realised them as the -ship's officers. The captain looked to me like a depressed corporal who -was having difficulties with his sergeant, and the ship, though they -charged us three roubles more for the trip to Blagoveschensk than the -Amur Company would have done, was dirty and ill-kept. It was in her I -met the saloon the windows of which would not open, and the water in my -cabin had gone wrong, and when I insisted that I could not be happy till -I had some, it was brought me in a teapot! They never struck the hours -on this steamer as they had done on the _John Cockerill_, and gone was -the excellent cook, and the food consisted largely of meat, of which I -am bound to say there was any quantity. - -But in spite of all drawbacks the ship was crowded; there were many -officers and their wives on board, and there were many officers on board -with women who were not their 'wives. These last were so demonstrative -that I always took them for honeymoon couples till at last a Cossack -officer whom I met farther on explained: - -“Not 'wives. Oh no! It is always so! It is just the steamer!” - -Whether these little irregularities were to be set down to the -discomforts of the steamer or to the seductive air of the river, I do -not know. Perhaps I struck a particularly amorous company. I am bound to -say no one but me appeared to be embarrassed. It seemed to be all in the -day's work. - -It was pleasant going up the river again and having beside me one who -could explain things to me. Every day it grew warmer, for not only was -the short northern summer reaching its zenith, but we were now going -south again. And Mrs Skibitsky sat beside me and rubbed up her English -and told me how in two years' time she proposed to bring her daughters -to England to give them an English education, and I promised to look out -for her and show her the ropes and how she could best manage in London. -In two years' time! And we neither of us knew that we were on the -threshold of the greatest war in the world's history. - -I took the breaking out of that war so calmly. - -We arrived at Kharbarosvk. I parted from Mrs Skibitsky, who was going to -Vladivostok, and next day I looked up my friend the colonel's wife with -whom I had travelled on the _John Cockerill_. She received me with open -arms, but the household cat flew and spat and stated in no measured -terms what she thought of Buchanan. The lady caught the cat before I -realised what was happening and in a moment she had scored with her -talons great red lines that spouted blood on her mistress's arms. She -looked at them calmly, went into the kitchen, rubbed butter on her -wounds and came back smiling as if nothing in the world had happened. -But it was not nothing. I admired her extremely for a very brave woman. -Presently her husband came in and she just drew down her sleeves to -cover her torn arms and said not a word to him. He was talking earnestly -and presently she said to me: - -“There is war!” - -I thought she meant between Buehanan and the cat and I smiled feebly, -because I was very much ashamed of the trouble I and my dog had caused, -but she said again: - -“There is war! Between Austria and Serbia!” - -It did not seem to concern me. I don't know that I had ever realised -Serbia as a distinct nationality at all before, and she knew so little -English and I knew no Russian at all, so that we were not able to -discuss the matter much, though it was evident that the colonel was very -much excited. That, I thought, might be natural. He was a soldier. War -was his business, though here, I think, he was engaged in training boys. - -After the midday meal--_déjeuner_, I think we called it--she and I went -for a walk, and presently down the wide streets of Kharbarosvk came a -little procession of four led by a wooden-legged man bearing a Russian -naval flag, the blue St Andrew's Cross on a white ground. I looked at -them. - -They meant nothing to me in that great, empty street where the new -little trees were just beginning to take root and the new red-brick post -office dominated all minor buildings among many empty spaces. - -“They want war! They ask for war!” said my friend. I was witnessing my -first demonstration against Germany! And I thought no more of it than I -do of the children playing in the streets of this Kentish village! - -She saw me on to the steamer and bade me farewell, and then my troubles -began. Not a single person on that steamer spoke English. However, I -had always found the Russians so kind that the faet that we could not -understand one another when the going was straight did not seem to -matter very much. But I had not reckoned with the Russians at war. - -At Kharbarosvk the river forms the Chinese-Russian boundary and a little -beyond it reaches its most southern point, about lat. 48°. But the China -that was on our left was not the China that I knew. This was Manchuria, -green and fresh as Siberia itself, and though there was little or no -agriculture beyond perhaps a patch of vegetables here and there, on both -sides of the broad river was a lovely land of hills and lush grass and -trees. Here were firs and pines and cedars, whose sombreness contrasted -with the limes and elms, the poplars and dainty birches with whieh they -were interspersed. The Russian towns were small, the merest villages, -with here and there a church with the painted ball-like domes they -affect, and though the houses were of unpainted logs, always the windows -and doors were painted white. - -And at every little town were great piles of wood waiting for the -steamer, and whenever we stopped men hastily set to work bringing in -loads of wood to replace that which we had burnt. And we burnt lavishly. -Even the magnificent forests of Siberia will not stand this drain on -them long. - -The other day when the National Service papers came round one was sent -to a dear old “Sister” who for nearly all her life has been working for -the Church in an outlying district of London. She is past work now, but -she can still go and talk to the old and sick and perhaps give advice -about the babies, but that is about the extent of her powers. She -looked at the paper and as in duty bound filled it in, giving her age -as seventy. What was her surprise then to receive promptly from the -Department a suggestion that she should volunteer for service on the -land, and offering her, by way of inducement, good wages, a becoming -hat and high boots! That branch of the Department has evidently become -rather mechanical. Now the Russians all the way from Saghalien to -Petrograd treated me with sueh unfailing kindness that I was in danger -of writing of them in the stereotyped fashion in which the National -Service Department sent out its papers. Luckily they themselves saved -me from such an error. There were three memorable, never-to-be-forgotten -days when the Russians did not treat me with kindness. - -The warmest and pleasantest days of my trip on the Amur we went through -lovely scenery: the river was very wide, the blue sky was reflected in -its blue waters and the green, tree-clad hills on either side opened -out and showed beyond mountains in the distance, purple and blue and -alluring. It was the height of summer-time, summer at its best, a green, -moist summer. We hugged the Russian bank, and the Manchurian bank seemed -very far away, only it was possible to see that wherever the Russians -had planted a little town on the other side was a Chinese town much -bigger. The Russian were very little towns, and all the inhabitants, it -seemed, turned out to meet us, who were their only link with the outside -world. - -The minute the steamer came close enough ropes were flung ashore to moor -it, and a gangway was run out very often--and it was an anxious moment -for me with Buchanan standing on the end, for he was always the first -to put dainty little paws on the gangway, and there he stood while -it swayed this way and that before it could make up its mind where to -finally settle down. Then there was a rush, and a stream of people going -ashore for exercise passed a stream of people coming on board to sell -goods. Always these took the form of eatables. Butter, bread, meat, -milk, berries they had for sale, and the third and fourth class -passengers bought eagerly. - -I followed Buchanan ashore, but I seldom bought anything unless the -berries tempted me. There were strawberries, raspberries and a blue -berry which sometimes was very sweet and pleasant. - -At first the people had been very kind and taken a great deal of -interest in the stranger and her pretty little dog, but after we left -Kharbarosvk and I had no one to appeal to a marked change came over -things. If I wanted to take a photograph, merely a photograph of the -steamer lying against the bank, my camera was rudely snatched away and -I was given to understand in a manner that did not require me to know -Russian that if I did that again it would be worse for me. Poor little -Buchanan was kicked and chunks of wood were flung at him. As I passed -along the lower decks to and from the steamer I was rudely hustled, and -on shore not only did the people crowd around me in a hostile manner, -but to my disgust they spat upon me. - -I could not understand the change, for even in the first-class saloon -the people looked at me askance. And I had ten days of the river before -I reached Stretensk, where I was to join the train. It is terrible to -be alone among hostile people, and I kept Buchanan close beside me for -company and because I did not know what might happen to him. If this had -been China I should not have been surprised, but Russia, that had always -been so friendly. I was mightily troubled. - -And then came the explanation, the very simple explanation. - -Just as the river narrowed between the hills and looked more like a -river, and turned north, there came on board at a tiny wayside town a -tall young Cossack officer, a _soinik_ of Cossacks, he called himself. -He wore a khaki jacket and cap, and dark blue breeches and riding-boots. -He had a great scar across his forehead, caused by a Chinese sword, and -he had pleasant blue eyes and a row of nice white teeth. He was tall and -goodly to look upon, and as I sat at afternoon tea at a little table on -deck he came swaggering along the deck and stood before me with one hand -on a deck-chair. - -“Madame, is it permitted?” he asked in French. - -Of course Madame permitted and ealled for another glass and offered -him some of her tea and cake. Possibly he had plenty of his own, but no -matter, it was good to entertain someone in friendly fashion again after -being an outcast for three days. And it took a little while to find out -what was wrong, he was so very polite. - -“Madame understands we are at war?” - -Madame opened her eyes in astonishment. What could a war in the Balkan -Provinces have to do with her treatment on the Amur river thousands of -miles in the East? - -However, she said she did. - -“And Madame knows------” He paused, and then very kindly abandoned his -people. “Madame sees the people are bad?” - -Madame quite agreed. They were bad. I had quite an appetite for my tea -now that this nice young man was sympathising with me on the abominable -behaviour of his countrymen. - -He spread out his hands as if deprecating the opinion of sueh foolish -people. “They think--on the ship--and on the shore--that Madame is a -GERMAN!” - -So it was out, and it took me a moment to realise it, so little had I -realised the war. - -“A German!” I did not put it in capital letters as he had done. I had -not yet learned to hate the Germans. - -“A--spy!” - -“Oh, good gracious!” And then I flew for my passports. - -In vain that young man protested it was not necessary. He had felt sure -from the moment he set eyes upon her that Madame was no German. He had -told the captain--so the depressed corporal had been taking an interest -in me--she might be French, or even from the north of Spain, but -certainly not German. But I insisted on his looking at my passports and -being in a position to swear that I was British, and from that moment we -were friends and he constituted himself my champion. - -“The people are bad,” he told me. “Madame, they are angry and they are -bad. They may harm you. Here I go ashore with you; at Blagoveschensk -you get a protection order from the Governor written in Russian so that -somebody may read.” - -Then he told me about the war. Russia and France were fighting Germany. -He had come from Tsitsihar, on the Mongolian border, across Manchuria, -and before that he had come from Kodbo, right in the heart of the great -Western Mongolian mountains, and he was going as fast as he could to -Chita, and thence he supposed to the front. - -“C'est gai a la guerre, Madame, c'est gai!” I hope so. I earnestly hope -he found it so, for he was a good fellow and awfully good to me. - -He was a little disquieting too, for now it dawned upon me it would be -impossible to go back through Germany with Germany at war with Russia, -and my friend was equally sure it would be almost impossible to go by -way of St Petersburg, as we called Petrograd then. Anyhow we were still -in the Amur Province, in Eastern Siberia, so I did not worry much. Now -that the people were friendly once more it all seemed so far away, and -whenever we went ashore my Cossack friend explained matters. - -But he was a little troubled. - -“Madame, why does not England come in?” he asked again and again, and I, -who had seen no papers since I left Tientsin, and only _The North China -Herald_ then, could not imagine what England had to do with it. The idea -of a world war was out of the question. - -It was more interesting now going up the beautiful river, narrowed till -it really did look like a river. I could see both banks quite plainly. -My friend had been stationed here a year or two before, and he told me -that there were many tigers in the woods, and wild boar and bear, but -not very many wolves. And the tigers were beautiful and fierce and -dangerous, northern tigers that could stand the rigours of the winter, -and they did not wait to be attacked, they attacked you. There was a -German professor in Blagoveschensk a year or two ago who had gone out -butterfly-hunting, which one would think was a harmless and safe enough -pastime to satisfy even a conscientious objector, and a tiger had got -on his tracks and eaten him incontinently. They found only his butterfly -net and the buttons of his coat when they went in search of him. - -The plague had broken out during this officer's stay on the river, -and the authorities had drawn a cordon of Cossacks round to keep the -terrified, plague-stricken people from fleeing and spreading the disease -yet farther, and he pointed out to me the house in which he and two -comrades had lived. It was merely a roof pitched at a steep angle, and -the low walls were embedded in earth; only on the side facing the river -was a little window--it did not open--and a door. A comfortless-looking -place it was. - -“But why the earth piled up against the sides?” I asked. It was -sprouting grass now and yellow buttercups and looked gay and pretty, the -only attractive thing about the place. - -“Madame, for the cold,” said he, “for the cold.” And remembering -what they had told me about the cold of Kharbin, what I myself had -experienced at Manchuria on the way out in much the same latitude as -this, I could quite well believe that even sunk in the earth this poor -little hut was not a very good protection against the cold. - -The river widened again, winding its way across a plateau. On the -Chinese side were great oak forests where my Cossack told me were many -pig that gave them good hunting and many bees, but this was not China -as I knew it. It was inhabited, he said, by nomad tribes who were great -horsemen, and we saw occasional villages and--a rare sight--cattle, red -and white, standing knee-deep in the clear water. Particularly was I -struck by the cattle, for in all those thousands of miles of travel -I could count on my fingers--the fingers of one hand would be too -many--the numbers of times I saw herds of cattle. Once was in Saghalien, -and twice, I think, here, curiously enough, for the pure Chinese does -not use milk or butter on the Chinese side of the river. Of course there -must have been cows somewhere, for there was plenty of milk, cream and -butter for sale, but they were not in evidence from the river. - -On the Russian side the landing-places did not change much, only now -among the women hawkers were Chinese in belted blouses, green, yellow, -blue, pink, red; they rioted in colour as they never did in their own -land, and they all wore sea-boots. - -And still over twelve hundred miles from the sea it was a great -river. And then at last I saw what I had been looking for ever since I -embarked--fields of corn, corn ripe for the harvest. This was all this -lovely land needed, a field of corn; but again it was not on the Russian -side, but on the Chinese. - -The spires and domes of Blagoveschensk, the capital of the Amur -Province, came into view. All along the Russian bank of the river lay -this city of Eastern Siberia. Its buildings stood out against the clear -sky behind it, and approaching it was like coming up to a great port. -The river, I should think, was at least a mile wide. I am not very good -at judging distances, but it gave me the impression of a very wide river -set here in the midst of a plain--that is, of course, a plateau, for we -had come through the hills. - -And here my Cossack friend came to bid me good-bye and to impress upon -me once again to go straight to the Governor for that protection order. -He was sorry he could not see me through, but his orders were to go -to Chita as fast as he could, and someone would speak English at -Blagoveschensk, for it was a great city, and then he asked for the last -time: - -“But, Madame, why does not England come in?” - -And then the question that had troubled me so was answered, for as we -touched the shore men came on board wild with excitement, shouting, -yelling, telling the war news, that very day, that very moment, it -seemed, England had come in! - -And I appeared to be the only representative of Britain in that corner -of the world! Never was there such a popular person. The sailor-men who -worked the ship, the poorer third and fourth class passengers all came -crowding to look at the Englishwoman. I had only got to say “Anglisky” - to have everyone bowing down before me and kissing my hand, and -my Cossack friend as he bade me good-bye seemed to think it hardly -necessary to go to the Governor except that a member of a great Allied -nation ought to be properly received. - -But I had been bitten once, and I determined to make things as safe as -I could for the future. So I got a droshky--a sort of tumble-down -victoria, held together with pieces of string, and driven by a man who -might have been Russian or might have been Chinese--and Buchanan and -I went through the dusty, sunny streets of the capital of the Amur -Province to the viceregal residence. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--THE UPPER REACHES OF THE AMUR - -Blagoveschensk is built on much the same lines as all the other -Siberian towns that I have seen, a wooden town mostly of one-storeyed -houses straggling over the plain in wide streets that cut one another -at right angles. Again it was not at all unlike an Australian town, a -frontier town to all intents and purposes. The side-roads were deep in -dust, and the principal shop, a great store, a sort of mild imitation of -Harrod's, where you could buy everything from a needle to an anchor--I -bought a dog-collar with a bell for Buchanan--was run by Germans. It was -a specimen of Germany's success in peaceful penetration. It seemed as if -she were throwing away the meat for the shadow, for they were interning -all those assistants--400 of them. Now probably they form the nucleus of -the Bolshevist force helping Germany. - -The Governor's house was on the outskirts of the town, and it was -thronged with people, men mostly, and Buchanan and I were passed from -one room to another, evidently by people who had not the faintest -notion of what we wanted. Everybody said “Bonjour,” and the Governor and -everybody else kissed my hand. I said I was “Anglisky,” and it seemed -as if everybody in consequence came to look at me. But it didn't advance -matters at all. - -I began to be hungry and tired, and various people tried questions upon -me, but nothing definite happened. At last, after about two hours, when -I was seriously thinking of giving up in despair, a tall, good-looking -officer in khaki came in. He put his heels together and kissed my hand -as courteously as the rest had done, and then informed me in excellent -English that he was the Boundary Commissioner and they had sent for him -because there was an Englishwoman arrived, and, while very desirous of -being civil to the representative of their new Ally, nobody could make -out what on earth she was doing here and what she wanted! - -I told my story and it was easy enough then. He admired Buchanan -properly, drove us both to his house, introduced me to his wife and made -me out a most gorgeous protection order written in Russian. I have it -still, but I never had occasion to use it. - -Opposite Blagoveschensk is a Chinese town which is called Sakalin, -though the maps never give it that name, and in Vladivostok and Peking -they call it various other names. But its right name is Sakalin, I know, -for I stayed there for the best part of a week. - -At Sakalin the head of the Chinese Customs is a Dane, Paul Barentzen, -and to him and his wife am I greatly beholden. I had been given letters -to them, and I asked my friend the kindly Russian Boundary Commissioner -if he knew them. He did. He explained to me I must have a permit to -cross the river and he would give me one for a week. A week seemed -overlong, but he explained the Russian Government did not allow free -traffic across the river and it was just as well to have a permit that -would cover the whole of my stay. Even now, though I did stay my week, I -have not fathomed the reason of these elaborate precautions, because -it must be impossible to guard every little landing-place on the long, -long, lonely river--there must be hundreds of places where it is easy -enough to cross--only I suppose every stranger is liable sooner or later -to be called upon to give an account of himself. - -The ferries that crossed the Amur to the Chinese side were great boats -built to carry a large number of passengers, but the arrangements -for getting across the river did justice to both Chinese and Russian -mismanagement. Unlike the efficient Japanese, both these nations, -it seems to me, arrive at the end in view with the minimum amount of -trouble to those in authority--that is to say, the maximum of trouble -to everybody concerned. The ferry-boats owing to local politics had a -monopoly, and therefore went at their own sweet will just exactly when -they pleased. There was a large and busy traffic, but the boats -never went oftener than once an hour, and the approaches were just as -primitive as they possibly could be. There was one little shed with a -seat running round where if you were fortunate you could sit down with -the Chinese hawkers and wait for the arrival of the boat. And when it -did come the passengers, after a long, long wait, came climbing up the -rough path up the bank looking as if they had been searched to the -skin. They let me through on the Chinese side and I found without -any difficulty my way to Mr Paul Barentzen's house, a two-storeyed, -comfortable house, and received a warm invitation from him and his wife -to stay with them. - -It was a chance not to be missed. I was getting very weary, I was tired -in every bone, so a chance like this to stay with kindly people who -spoke my own language, on the very outskirts of the Chinese Empire, was -not to be lightly missed, and I accepted with gratitude, a gratitude I -feel strongly. Mr Barentzen was a Dane, but he spoke as good English as -I do, and if possible was more British. His wife was English. And that -night he celebrated the coming into the war of Britain. He asked me -and the Russian Boundary Commissioner and his wife and another Russian -gentleman all to dinner in the gardens at Blagoveschensk. - -The place was a blaze of light, there were flags and lamps and bands -everywhere, the whole city was _en fête_ to do honour to the new -addition to the Grande Entente. When we were tired of walking about the -gardens we went inside to the principal restaurant that was packed with -people dining, while on a stage various singers discoursed sweet music -and waved the flags of the Allies. But the British flag had not got as -far as the capital of the Amur Province. Indeed much farther west than -that I found it represented by a red flag with black crosses drawn on -it, very much at the taste of the artist, and “Anglisky” written boldly -across it to make up for any deficiency. - -Mr Barentzen had foreseen this difficulty and had provided us all with -nice little silk specimens of the Union Jack to wear pinned on our -breasts. About ten o'clock we sat down to a most excellent dinner, -with sturgeon and sour cream and caviare and all the good tilings that -Eastern Siberia produces. A packed room also dined, while the people on -the stage sang patriotic songs, and we were all given silk programmes -as souvenirs. They sang the Belgian, the French and the Russian national -anthems, and at last we asked for the British. - -Very courteously the conductor sent back word to say he was very sorry -but the British national anthem was also a German hymn and if he dared -play it the people would tear him to pieces. Remembering my tribulations -a little way down the river, I quite believed him, so I suggested as an -alternative _Rule, Britannia_, but alas! he had never heard of it. It -was a deadlock, and we looked at one another. - -Then the tall Russian who was the other guest pushed his chair from -the table, stood up, and saluting, whistled _Rule, Britannia!_ How the -people applauded! And so Britain entered the war in Far Eastern Siberia. - -We certainly did not go home till morning that day. For that matter, I -don't think you are supposed to cross the river at night, not ordinary -folk, Customs officials may have special privileges. At any rate I came -back to my bunk on the steamer and an anxious little dog just as the -day was breaking, and next day I crossed to Sakalin and stayed with the -Barentzens. - -The Russians then took so much trouble to keep the Chinese on their own -side of the river that the Russian officers and civil servants, much to -the chagrin of their wives, were nowhere in the province allowed to have -Chinese servants. The fee for a passport had been raised to, I think, -twelve roubles, so it was no longer worth a Chinaman's while to get one -to hawk a basket of vegetables, and the mines on the Zeya, a tributary -of the Amur on the Russian side, had fallen off in their yield because -cheap labour was no longer possible. The people who did get passports -were the Chinese prostitutes, though a Chinese woman has not a separate -identity in China and is not allowed a passport of her own. However, -there are ways of getting over that. A man applied for a passport and it -was granted him. He handed it over to the woman for a consideration, and -on the other side any Chinese document was, as a rule, all one to the -Russian official. Remembering my own experience and how I had difficulty -in deciding between my passport and my agreement with my muleteers, I -could quite believe this story. - -Blagoveschensk is a regular frontier town and, according to Mr -Barentzen, is unsafe. On the first occasion that I crossed the river -with him I produced a hundred-rouble note. Almost before I had laid it -down it was snatched up by the Chinese Commissioner of Customs. - -“Are you mad?” said he, and he crumpled up the note in his hand and -held out for my acceptance a rouble. I tried to explain that not having -change, and finding it a little awkward, I thought that this would be a -good opportunity to get it, as I felt sure the man at receipt of custom -must have plenty. - -“I dare say,” said my host sarcastically. “I don't want to take away -anybody's character, but I'll venture to say there are at least ten -men within hail”--there was a crowd round--“who would joyfully cut your -throat for ten roubles.” - -He enlarged upon that theme later. We used to sit out on the balcony of -his house looking out, not over the river, but over the town of Sakalin, -and there used to come in the men from the B.A.T. Factory, a Russian in -top-boots who spoke excellent English and a young American named Hyde. -They told me tales, well, something like the stories I used to listen -to in my childhood's days when we talked about “the breaking out of the -gold” in Australia, tales of men who had washed much gold and then -were lured away and murdered for their riches. Certainly they did not -consider Blagoveschensk or Sakalin towns in which a woman could safely -wander. In fact all the Siberian towns that they knew came under the -ban. - -But of course mostly we talked about the war and how maddening it was -only to get scraps of news through the telegraph. The young American was -keen, I remember. I wonder if he really had patience to wait till his -country came in. He talked then in the first week of the war of making -his way back to Canada and seeing if he could enlist there, for even -then we felt sure that the Outer Dominions would want to help the -Motherland. And the Germans were round Liège--would they take it? -Association is a curious thing. Whenever I hear of Liège I cannot -help thinking, not of the Belgian city, but of a comfortable seat on a -balcony with the shadows falling and the lights coming out one by one -on the bath-houses that are dotted about a little town on the very -outskirts of the Chinese Empire--the lights of the town. There are the -sounds and the smells of the Chinese town mingling with the voices of -the talkers and the fragrance of the coffee, and the air is close with -the warmth of August. There comes back to me the remembrance of the -keen young American who wanted to fight Germany and the young Russian in -top-boots who was very much afraid he would only be used to guard German -prisoners. - -Sakalin was cosmopolitan, but it had a leaning toward Russia, hence the -bath-houses, an idea foreign to Chinese civilisation; and when I got a -piece of grit in my eye which refused to come out it was to a Japanese -doctor I went, accompanied by my host's Chinese servant, who, having -had the trouble stated by me in English, explained it to another man in -Chinese, who in his turn told the doctor what was the matter in Russian. -Luckily that man of medicine was very deft and I expect he could have -managed very well without any explanation at all. I have the greatest -respect for the Japanese leech I visited in Sakalin. - -On the Sunday we had a big picnic. The Russian Boundary Commissioner -came across with his wife and little girls, Mrs Barentzen took -her little girl and the Chinese Tao Tai lent us the light of his -countenance. He was the feature of the entertainment, for he was a very -big man, both literally and socially, and could not move without a large -following, so that an escort of mounted police took charge of us. The -proper portly Chinaman of whom this retinue was in honour spoke no -English, but smiled at me benevolently, and wore a petticoat and a -Russian military cap! The picnic was by a little brook about seven miles -from the town and I shall always remember it because of the lush grass, -waist-high, and the lovely flowers. I had looked at the Siberian flowers -from the steamer when they were ungetatable, I had gathered them with -joy in Saghalien, and now here they were again just to my hand. In June -they told me there were abundant lilies of the valley, and I regretted -I had not been there in June. Truly I feel it would be a delight to -see lilies of the valley growing wild, but as it was, the flowers were -beautiful enough, and there were heaps of them. There were very fine -Canterbury bells, a glorious violet flower and magnificent white -poppies. Never have I gathered more lovely flowers, never before have I -seen them growing wild in such amazing abundance. No one is more truly -artistic than the average Chinese, and I think the Tao Tai must have -enjoyed himself, though it is against the canons of good taste in China -to look about you. - -Presently I was asking the chief magistrate's good offices for Buchanan, -for he, my treasured Buchanan, was lost. In the Barentzens' house -there was, of course, as in all well-regulated Chinese houses run by -foreigners, a bathroom attached to every bedroom, and when I wanted a -bath the servants filled with warm water the half of a large barrel, -which made a very excellent bath-tub. And having bathed myself, I bathed -Buchanan, whose white coat got very dirty in the dusty Chinese streets. -He ran away downstairs and I lingered for a moment to put on my dress, -and when I came down he was gone. High and low I hunted; I went up and -down the street calling his name, and I knew he would have answered, he -always did, had he been within hearing. All the Customs men were turned -out and I went to the Chinese Tao Tai, who promptly put on all the -police. But Buchanan was gone for a night and I was in despair. Mr -Barentzen's head boy shook his head. - -“Master saying,” said he, “mus' get back that dog.” So I realised I was -making a fuss, but for the moment I did not care. The Tao Tai gave it -as his opinion that he had not been stolen. There were many little dogs -like him in the town, said he, no one would steal one, which only shows -a Chinese magistrate may not be infallible, for I was sure Buchanan -would not stay away from me of his own free will. - -And then at last the servants turned up triumphant, Buchanan, in the -arms of the head boy, wild with delight at seeing his mistress again. -The police had searched everywhere, but the servants, with their -master's injunction in mind and my reward to be earned, had made further -inquiries and found that a little boy had been seen taking the dog into -a certain house occupied by an official, the man who was responsible for -the cleaning of the streets. This was the first intimation I ever had -that the Chinese did clean their streets: I had thought that they -left that job to the “wonks” and the scavenger crows. The police made -inquiries. No, there was no little dog there. But the servants--wise -Chinese servants--made friends with the people round, and they said: -“Watch. There is a dog.” So a junior servant was put to watch, and when -the gate of the compound was opened he stole in, and there was poor -little James Buchanan tied up to a post. That servant seized the dog and -fled home in triumph. - -The T'ai T'ai (the official's wife), said the people round, had wanted -the pretty little dog. - -I was so delighted to get my little friend back that I should have been -content to leave things there. Not so Mr Barentzen. He sent for that -official, and there in his drawing-room he and I interviewed a portly -Chinese gentleman in grey petticoats, a long pigtail, a little black -silk cap and the tips of the silver shields that encased the long nails -of his little fingers just showing beyond his voluminous sleeves. - -“An officious servant,” he said. He was extremely sorry the Commissioner -of Customs and his friend had been put to so much inconvenience. The -servant had already been dismissed. And so we bowed him out, face was -saved, and all parties were satisfied. It was very Chinese. And yet we -knew, and we knew that he must have known we knew, that it was really -his wife who received the little dog that everyone concerned must have -realised was valuable and must have been stolen. - -Here in Sakai in I heard about the doings of the only wolves that came -into my wanderings. In the little river harbour were many small steamers -flying the Russian flag and loading great barrels with the ends painted -bright red. These barrels, explained the Customs Commissioner, contained -spirits which the Russians were desirous of smuggling into Russian -territory. The Chinese had not the least objection to their leaving -China after they had paid export duty. They were taken up and down the -river and finally landed at some small port whence they were smuggled -across. The trade was a very big one. The men engaged in it were known -as the wolves of the Amur and were usually Caucasians and Jews. In -1913, the last year of which I have statistics, no less than twenty-five -thousand pounds export was paid on these spirits, and in the years -before it used to be greater. I wonder whether with the relaxing of -discipline consequent on the war and the revolution the receipts for the -export have not gone up. - -The wide river was beautiful here, and Blagovesehensk, lying across the -water, with its spires and domes, all the outlines softened, standing -against the evening sky, might have been some town of pictured Italy. I -am glad I have seen it. I dare not expiate on Mr Barentzen's kindness. -My drastic critic, drastic and so invaluable, says that I have already -overloaded this book with tales of people's kindness, so I can only say -I stayed there a week and then took passage on the smaller steamer which -was bound up the Amur and the Shilka to Stretensk and the railway. - -I had, however, one regret. I had inadvertently taken my plates and -films on which I had all my pictures of the Amur and Saghalien across -the Sakalin and I could not take them back again. The Russian rule was -very strict. No photographs were allowed. Everything crossing the river -must be examined. Now to examine my undeveloped films and plates would -be to ruin them. I interviewed a Japanese photographer on the Sakalin -side, but he appeared to be a very tyro in the art of developing, and -finally very reluctantly I decided to leave them for Mr Barentzen to -send home when he got the chance. He did not get that chance till the -middle of 1916, and I regret to state that when we came to develop them -every single one of them was ruined. - -The steamer that I embarked on now was considerably smaller, for the -river was narrowing. The deck that ran round the cabins was only thirty -inches wide and crowded with children; worse, when James Buchanan and -I went for our daily promenades we found the way disputed by women, -mothers, or nursemaids, I know not whieh, propelling the children who -could not walk in wheeled chairs, and they thought Buchanan had been -brought there for their special benefit, a view which the gentleman -himself did not share. However, he was my only means of communication -with them, for they had no English or French. - -But I was lucky, for one of the mates, brass-bound and in spotless -white, like so many Russians had served in British ships and spoke -English very well with a slight Scots accent. With him I used to hold -daily conversations and always we discussed the war. But he shook his -head over it. It was not possible to get much news at the little wayside -places at which we stopped. There were no papers--the Russian peasant -under the beneficent rule of the Tsar was not encouraged to learn to -read--and for his part he, the mate, put no faith in the telegrams. All -would be well, of course, but we must wait till we came to some large -and influential place for news upon which we could rely. - -But that large and influential place was long in coming, in fact I may -say it never materialised while I was on the river. There are at least -eleven towns marked on the way between Blagoveschensk and Stretensk, but -even the town at the junction where the Aigun and the Shilka merge into -the Amur is but a tiny frontier village, and the rest as I know the -river banks are only a few log huts inhabited by peasants who apparently -keep guard over and supply the stacks of wood needed by the steamers. - -It was a lovely river now going north, north and then west, or rather -we went north, the river flowed the other way, it was narrower and wound -between wooded hills and it was very lonely. There were occasional, very -occasional, little settlements, on the Chinese side I do not remember -even a hut, though it was a lovely green land and the river, clear as -crystal, reflected on its breast the trees and rocks among which we made -our way. - -Once on the Russian side we landed from a boat a woman with two little -children and innumerable bundles. They had been down, I suppose, to -visit the centre of civilisation at Blagoveschensk and now were -coming home. In the dusk of the evening we left her there looking down -thoughtfully at her encumbrances, not a living creature in sight, not -a sign of man's handiwork anywhere. I hoped there were no tigers about, -but she has always lived in my memory as an unfinished story. I suppose -we all of us have those unfinished stories in our lives, not stories -left unfinished because they are so long drawn out we could not possibly -wait for developments, but stories that must finish suddenly, only -we are withdrawn. Once I looked from a railway carriage window in the -Midlands and I saw a bull chasing a woman; she was running, screaming -for all she was worth, for a fence, but whether she reached it or not -I have no means of knowing. Another time I saw also from a railway -carriage window two men, mother naked, chasing each other across the -greensward and left them there because the train went on. Of course I -have often enough seen men without clothes in the tropics, but in the -heart of England they are out of the picture and want explaining. -That explanation I shall never get. Nor is it likely I shall ever know -whether that unknown woman and her little children ever reached their -unknown home. - -We were luxuriously fed upon that little steamer. The Russian tea with -lemon and the bread and butter were delicious, and we had plenty of -cream, though gone was the red caviare that farther east had been so -common. But I was tired and at last feeling lonely. I began to count the -days till I should reach home. - -On the Amur the weather had been gorgeous, but when we entered the -Shilka we were north of 53° again and well into the mountains, and -the next morning I awoke to a grey day. It rained and it rained, not -tropical rain, but soft, penetrating rain; the fir-clad hills on either -side were veiled in a silvery mist. The river wound so that as we looked -ahead we seemed to be sailing straight into the hills. The way looked -blocked with hills, sometimes all mist-covered, sometimes with the green -showing alluringly through the mist, and occasionally, when the mist -lifted and the sun came out, in all the gullies would linger little grey -cloudlets, as if caught before they could get away and waiting there -screened by the hills till the mist should fall again. Occasionally -there were lonely houses, still more occasionally little settlements of -log huts with painted windows hermetically sealed, and once or twice a -field of corn ripe for the harvest but drowned by the persistent rain. -But the air was soft and delicious, divine; only in the cabins on board -the crowded steamer was it pestilential. The mate told me how, six weeks -before, on his last trip up, an Englishman had come selling reapers and -binders, and he thought that now I had made my appearance the English -were rather crowding the Amur. - -Sometimes when we stopped the passengers went ashore and went berrying, -returning with great branches laden with fruit, and I and Buchanan too -walked a little way, keeping the steamer 'well in sight, and rejoicing -in the flowers and the green and the rich, fresh smell of moist earth. I -do not know that ever in my life do I remember enjoying rain so much. -Of course in my youth in Australia I had always welcomed the life-giving -rain, but thirteen years in England, where I yearned for the sunshine, -had somehow dimmed those memories, and now once again the rain on the -river brought me joy. The mist was a thing of beauty, and when a ray of -sunshine found its way into a green, mist-veiled valley, illuminating -its lovely loneliness, then indeed I knew that the earth was the Lord's -and the fullness thereof. - -Sometimes we passed rafts upon the river. They were logs bound together -in great parallelograms and worked with twelve long sweeps fixed at each -end. Twelve men at least went to each raft, and there were small houses -built of grass and canvas and wood. They were taking the wood down to -Nikolayeusk to be shipped to Shanghai and other parts of the world for -furniture, for these great forests of birch and elm and fir and oak must -be a mine of wealth to their owners. I do not know whether the wood is -cut on any system, and whether the presence of these great rafts had -anything to do with the many dead trees I saw in the forests, their -white stems standing up ghostlike against the green hill-side. - -I have no record of these lovely places. My camera was locked away now -in my suit-case, for it was war, and Russia, rightly, would allow no -photographs. - -Seven days after we left Blagoveschensk we reached Stretensk and I came -in contact for the first time with the World's War. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--MOBILISING IN EASTERN SIBERIA - -At Stretensk I awakened to the fact that I was actually in Siberia, -nay, that I had travelled over about two thousand miles of Siberia, that -dark and gloomy land across which--I believed in my youth--tramped long -lines of prisoners in chains, sometimes amidst the snow and ice of a -bitter winter, sometimes with the fierce sun beating down upon them, but -always hopeless, always hungry, weary, heartbroken, a sacrifice to the -desire for political liberty that was implanted in the hearts of an -enslaved people. - -It is an extraordinary thing that, though for many years I had believed -Saghalien was a terrible island, a sort of inferno for political -prisoners, something like Van Diemen's Land used to be in the old -convict days one hundred and ten years ago, only that in the Asiatic -island the conditions were still more cruel and it was hopeless to think -of escaping, while I was actually in that beautiful island I was so -taken up with its charm, it was so extremely unlike the place of which I -had a picture in my mind's eye, that I hardly connected the two. All -up the Amur river was a new land, a land crying out for pioneers, -pastoralists and farmers, so that the thought that was uppermost in my -mind was of the contrast between it and the old land of China, where I -had spent so long a time; but at Stretensk I suddenly remembered -this was Siberia, the very heart of Siberia, where men had suffered -unutterable things, might still be so suffering for all I knew, and I -stepped off the steamer and prepared to explore, with a feeling that at -any moment I might come across the heavy logs that made up the walls of -a prison, might see the armed sentries, clad to the eyes in furs, who -tramped amidst the snow. But this was August and it was fiercely hot, so -the snow and the sentries clad in furs were ruled out, and presently -as Buchanan and I walked about the town even the lonely prison built of -logs had to go too. There may have been a prison, probably there was, -but it did not dominate the picture. Not here should I find the Siberia -I had been familiar with from my youth up. - -Stretensk is like all other Siberian towns that I have seen. The houses -are mostly of one storey and of wood, of logs; the streets are wide and -straight, cutting each other at right angles, and the whole is flung out -upon the plain; it is really, I think, rather high among the mountains, -but you do not get the sensation of hills as you do from the steamer. - -The rain had cleared away and it was very hot, though we had started -out very early because I was determined to go west if possible that very -afternoon; We went gingerly because the dangers of Siberian towns -for one who looked fairly prosperous had been impressed upon me at -Blagoveschensk, and I hesitated about going far from the steamer, where -the mate could speak English. Still we went. I was not going to miss the -Siberia of my dreams if I could help it. - -I saw something more wonderful than the Siberia of my dreams. - -In consequence of the ceaseless rain the roads between the log-houses -with their painted windows were knee-deep in mud, a quagmire that looked -impassable. In the air was the sound of martial music, and up and -down in what would have been reckless fashion but for the restraining -glue-like mud galloped officers and their orderlies. It was the war, the -first I had seen of it. The war was taking the place of the political -exiles, and instead of seeing Siberia as a background for the exiles as -I had dreamed of it for so many years, I saw it busy with preparations -for war. The roads were like sloughs out of which it would have been -impossible to get had I ever ventured in. Naturally I did not venture, -but took all sorts of long rounds to get to the places I wanted to -reach. It is not a bad way of seeing a town. - -The heavily built houses, built to defy the Siberian winter, might have -come out of Nikolayeusk or Kharbarosvk, and though the sun poured down -out of a cloudless sky, and I was gasping in a thin Shantung silk, they -were hermetically sealed, and the cotton wool between the double windows -was decorated with the usual gay ribbons. I dare say they were cool -enough inside, but they must have been intolerably stuffy. The sidewalks -too had dried quickly in the fierce sunshine. They were the usual -Siberian sidewalks, with long lines of planks like flooring. Had -they ever been trodden, I wonder, by the forced emigrant looking with -hopeless longing back to the West. Finally we wandered into the gardens, -where I doubt not, judging by the little tables and many seats, -there was the usual gay throng at night, but now early in the morning -everything looked dishevelled, and I could not find anyone to supply me -with the cool drink of which I stood so badly in need, and at last we -made our way back to the steamer, where the mate, having got over the -struggle of arrival--for this was the farthest the steamer went--kindly -found time enough to give himself to my affairs. I wanted a droshky to -take me to the train, and as nowhere about had I seen any signs of a -railway station I wanted to know where it was. - -The mate laughed and pointed far away down the river on the other side. -I really ought to have known my Siberia better by now. Railways are not -constructed for the convenience of the townsfolk. There was nothing -else for it. I had to get there somehow, and as the train left somewhere -between five and six, about noon, with the mate's assistance, I engaged -a droshky. The carriages that are doing a last stage in this country -are not quite so elderly here as they are in Saghalien, but that is -not saying much for them. The one the mate engaged for me had a sturdy -little ungroomed horse in the shafts and another running in a trace -alongside. On the seat was packed all my baggage, two small suit-cases -and a large canvas sack into which I dumped rugs, cushions and all odds -and ends, including my precious kettles, and the rough little unkempt -horses towed us down through the sea of mud to the ferry, and then I saw -the scene had indeed shifted. It was not long lines of exiles bearing -chains I met, that was all in the past, at least for an outsider like -me, but here in the heart of Asia Russia in her might was collecting her -forces for a spring. The great flat ferry was crossing and recrossing, -and down the swamp that courtesy called a road came endless streams of -square khaki-coloured carts, driven by men in flat caps and belted -khaki blouses, big fair men, often giants with red, sun-tanned faces and -lint-white hair, men who shouted and laughed and sang and threw up their -caps, who were sober as judges and yet were wild with excitement; they -were going to the war. I could not understand one word they said, but -there is no mistaking gladness, and these men were delighted with their -lot. I wondered was it a case of the prisoner freed or was it that life -under the old regime in a Russian village was dull to monotony and to -these recruits was coming the chance of their lifetime. - -Some will never come east again, never whether in love or hate will they -see the steppes and the flowers and the golden sunshine and the snow of -Siberia, they have left their bones on those battle-fields; but some, I -hope, will live to see the regeneration of Russia, when every man shall -have a chance of freedom and happiness. I suppose this revolution was in -the air as cart after cart drove on to the ferry and the men yelled and -shouted in their excitement. A small company of men who were going east -looked at them tolerantly--I'm sure it was tolerantly--and then they too -caught the infection and yelled in chorus. - -I watched it all with interest. - -Then half-an-hour passed and still they came; an hour, and I grew a -little worried, for they were still pouring over. Two hours--I comforted -myself, the train did not start till late in the afternoon--three horns, -and there was no cessation in the stream. And of course I could make no -one understand. It looked as if I might wait here all night. At last -a man who was manifestly an officer came galloping along and him I -addressed in French. - -“Is it possible to cross on the ferry?” - -He was very courteous. - -“It is not possible to cross, Madame. It is not possible. The soldiers -come first.” - -I took another look at the good-humoured, strapping, fair-haired -soldiers in khaki, with their khaki-coloured carts. The ferry crossing -was laden with them, hundreds of others were waiting, among them numbers -of country people. They had bundles and laden baskets and looked people -who had shopped and wanted to go home again. Were these exiles? I did -not know. They looked simple peasants. Whoever they were, there did not -seem much chance for them or me, and I said the one Russian word I -knew, “steamer,” and indicated that I wanted to go back there. Much as -I wanted to go home, tired as I was of travelling, I decided I would -postpone my railway journey for a day and take advantage of that -comfortable Russian custom that allows you to live on a steamer for -two days while she is in port. The _ishvornik_ nodded, back we went -helter-skelter to the wharf and--the steamer was gone! - -I have had some bad moments in my life, but that one stands out still. -Why, I hardly know, for sitting here in my garden it does not seem a -very terrible thing. I had plenty of money in my pocket and there were -hotels in the town. But no! more than ever, safe here in Kent, do I -dread a Siberian hotel! Then I was distinctly afraid. I might so easily -have disappeared and no one would have asked questions for months to -come. I tried to tell the boy I wanted to go to one of those dreaded -hotels--I felt I would have to risk it, for I certainly could not spend -the night in a droshky--and I could not make him understand. Perhaps, as -in Saghalien, there were no hotels to accommodate a woman of my class, -or perhaps, as is most probable, they were all full of soldiers, anyhow -he only looked at me blankly, and Buchanan and I looked at each other. -Buchanan anyhow had no fears. He was quite sure I could take care of -him. I looked at the boy again and then, as if he had suddenly had an -inspiration, he drove me back to the place opposite the ferry whence we -had come. The soldiers were there still, crowds and crowds of them, -with their little carts and horses, and they were amusing themselves by -stealing each other's fodder; the ferry had come back, but there were no -soldiers on it, only the country people were crowding down. I had been -forbidden to go upon it, and never should I have dreamt of disobeying -orders, but my driver had different views. He waited till no officer was -looking, seized my baggage and flung it down on the great ferry right -in front of the military stores, beside the refreshment stall where they -were selling sausages and bread in round rings such as peasants eat, and -tea and lemonade. I had not expected to find so commonplace a thing on -a river in Siberia. Now I had sat in that dilapidated carriage for -over four hours and I was weary to death, also I could not afford to be -parted from my luggage, so I put Buchanan under my arm--it was too muddy -for him to walk--and followed as fast as I could. My good angel prompted -me to pay that driver well. I paid him twice what the mate had said it -ought to cost me if I waited half-a-day, and never have I laid out money -to better advantage. He turned to a big man who was standing by, a man -in sea-boots, a red belted blouse and the tall black Astrakhan cap that -I have always associated in my own mind 'with Circassians, and spoke to -him, saying “Anglisky.” Evidently he said it might be worth his while to -look after me. I don't know whether this gentleman was a Caucasian, one -of the “wolves of the Amur,” but whoever he was, he was a very hefty and -capable individual, with a very clear idea of what a foreign lady ought -to do, and he promptly constituted himself my guardian. - -After all, the world, take it on the whole, is a very kindly, honest -place. So many times have I been stranded when I might quite easily have -been stripped of everything, and always some good Samaritan has come -to my aid, and the reward, though I did my best, has never been -commensurate with the services rendered. - -The ferry across the Shilka at Stretensk is a great affair, like a young -paddock afloat, and beside the horses and carts upon it were a number -of country people with their bundles. I sat there a little uncomfortably -because I did not know what would happen, only I was determined not to -be parted from my baggage. Presently the huge float drifted off, amidst -wild shouts and yells. When I was there, a great deal in Russia was -done to the accompaniment of much shouting, and I rather fancy that this -ferry was going off on an unauthorised jaunt of its own. The Shilka is a -broad river here, a fortnight's steamer journey from its mouth, but the -ferry came to a full stop in the middle of the stream and a motor boat -which did not look as if it could hold half the people came alongside. - -“Skurry! Skurry!” was the cry, and the people began leaping overboard -into the boat. The military were getting rid summarily of their civilian -crowd. In a few seconds that boat was packed to the gunwales and I was -looking over at it. I had Buchanan under my arm; he was always a good -little dog at critical moments, understanding it was his part to keep -quiet and give as little trouble as possible. In my other hand I had my -despatch-case, and, being anything but acrobatic by temperament, I felt -it was hopeless to think of getting into it. If the penalty for not -doing so had been death, I do not think I could have managed it. -However, I didn't have a say in the matter. The big Russian in the red -blouse picked me up and dropped me, little dog, box and all, into the -boat, right on top of the people already there. First I was on top, and -then, still hanging on to my little dog, I slipped down a little, but my -feet found no foothold; I was wedged between the screaming people. After -me, with my luggage on his shoulder, came my guardian, and he somehow -seemed to find a very precarious foothold on the gunwale, and he made me -understand he wanted two roubles for our fares. If he had asked for ten -he would have got it, but how I managed to get at my money to this day I -do not know. The boat rocked and swayed in a most alarming manner, and I -thought to myself, Well, we are on top now, but presently the boat will -upset and then we shall certainly be underneath. I gathered that the -passengers were disputing with the boatman as to the price to be paid -for the passage across, though this was unwise, for the ferry was -threatening momentarily to crush us against the rocky bank. He was -asking sixty kopecks--a little over a shilling--and with one voice they -declared that forty was enough. Considering the crowd, forty I should -have thought would have paid him excellently. That I had given my -guardian more did not trouble me, because any extra he earned was more -than justified, for one thing was certain, I could never have tackled -the job by myself. - -Just as I was growing desperate and Buchanan began to mention that he -was on the verge of suffocation the difficulty of the fares was settled -and we made for the bank. But we did not go to the usual landing-stage; -that, I presume, was forbidden as sacred to the soldiers, and we drew up -against a steep, high bank faced with granite. - -“Skurry! Skurry!” And more than ever was haste necessary, for it -looked as if the great ferry would certainly crush us. The people began -scrambling up. But I was helpless. Whatever happened, I knew I could -never climb that wall. I could only clutch my little dog and await -events. My guardian was quite equal to the situation. The boat had -cleared a little and there was room to move, and, dropping the baggage, -he picked me up like a baby and tossed me, dog and all, up on to the -bank above. Whether that boat got clear away from the ferry I do not -know. When I visited the place next morning there were no remains, so -I presume she did, but at the time I was giving all my attention to -catching a train. - -My guardian engaged a boy to carry the lighter baggage, and shouldering -the rest himself, he took me by the arm and fairly raeed me up the steep -incline to the railway station that was a seething mass of khaki-clad -men. - -“Billet! Billet!” said he, raping the sweat from his streaming face -and making a way for me among the thronging recruits. There was a train -coming in and he evidently intended I should catch it. - -Such a crowd it was, and in the railway station confusion was worse -confounded. It was packed with people--people of the poorer class--and -with soldiers, and everyone was giving his opinion of things in general -at the top of his voice. My stalwart guardian elbowed a way to the -pigeon-hole, still crying, “Billet! Billet!” and I, seeing I wanted -a ticket to Petrograd, produced a hundred-rouble note. The man inside -pushed it away with contumely and declined it in various unknown -tongues. I offered it again, and again it was thrust rudely aside, my -guardian becoming vehement in his protests, though what he said I have -not the faintest idea. I offered it a third time, then a man standing -beside me whisked it away and whisked me away too. - -“Madame, are you mad?” he asked, as Mr Barentzen had asked over a -week before, but he spoke in French, very Russian French. And then he -proceeded to explain volubly that all around were thieves, robbers and -assassins--oh! the land of suffering exiles--the mobilisation had called -them up, and any one of them would cut my throat for a good deal less -than a ten-pound note. And he promptly shoved the offending cash in his -pocket. It was the most high-handed proceeding I have ever taken -part in, and I looked at him in astonishment. He was a man in a green -uniform, wearing a military cap with pipings of white and magenta, and -the white and magenta were repeated on the coat and trousers. On the -whole, the effect was reassuring. A gentleman so attired was really too -conspicuous to be engaged in any very nefarious occupation. - -He proceeded to explain that by that train I could not go. - -It was reserved for the troops. They were turning out the people already -in it. This in a measure explained the bedlam in the station. The people -who did not want to be landed here and the people who wanted to get away -were comparing notes, and there were so many of them they had to do it -at the top of their voices. - -“When does the next train go?” I asked. - -My new friend looked dubious. “Possibly to-morrow night,” said he. That -was cheering. - -“And where is there a hotel?” - -He pointed across the river to Stretensk. - -“Are there none this side?” - -“No, Madame, not one.” - -I debated. Cross that river again after all it had cost me to get here I -could not. - -“But where can I stay?” - -He looked round as if he were offering palatial quarters. - -“Here, Madame, here.” - -In the railway station; there was nothing else for it; and in that -railway station I waited till the train came in the following evening. - -That little matter settled, I turned to reward my first friend for his -efforts on my behalf, and I felt five roubles was little enough. My new -friend was very scornful, a rouble was ample, he considered. He had my -ten-pound note in his pocket, and I am afraid I was very conscious -that he had not yet proved himself, whereas the other man had done me -yeoman's service, and never have I parted with ten shillings with more -satisfaction. They were certainly earned. - -After, I set myself to make the best of the situation. The station was -crowded with all sorts and conditions of people, and a forlorn crowd -they looked, and curious was the flotsam and jetsam that were their -belongings. Of course there was the usual travellers' baggage, but -there were other things too I did not expect to come across in a railway -station in Siberia. There was a sewing-machine; there was the trumpet -part of a gramophone; there was the back of a piano with all the wires -showing; there was a dressmaker's stand, the stuffed form of a woman, -looking forlorn and out of place among the bundles of the soldiers. - -But the people accepted it as all in the day's work, watched the -soldiers getting into the carriages from which they were debarred, and -waved their hands and cheered them, though the first train that started -for anywhere did not leave till one-fifteen a.m. next morning. They -were content that the soldiers should be served first. They -settled themselves in little companies on the open platform, in the -refreshment-room, in the waiting-rooms, fathers, mothers, children and -dogs, and they solaced themselves with kettles of tea, black bread and -sausages. - -It was all so different from what I had expected, so very different, but -the first effect was to bring home to me forcibly the fact that there -was a great struggle going on in the West, and Eastern Siberia was being -drawn into the whirlpool, sending her best, whether they were the exiles -of my dreams or the thieves and robbers my newest friend had called -them, to help in the struggle! To wait a night and day in a railway -station was surely a little sacrifice to what some must make. How -cheerfully and patiently that Siberian crowd waited! There were no -complaints, no moans, only here and there a woman buried her head in her -shawl and wept for her nearest and dearest, gone to the war, gone out -into the unknown, and she might never see him again, might never even -know what became of him. Truly “They also serve who only stand and -wait.” - -I went into the refreshment-room to get some food, and had soup with -sour cream in it, and ate chicken and bread and butter and cucumber and -drank _kvass_ as a change from the eternal tea. I watched the people -on the platform and as the shades of night fell began to wonder where I -should sleep. I would have chosen the platform, but it looked as if -it might rain, so I went into the ladies' waiting-room, dragged a -seat across the open window, and spread out my rugs and cushions and -established myself there. I wanted to have first right to that window, -for the night up in the hills here was chilly and I felt sure somebody -would come in and want to shut it. My intuitions were correct. Buchanan -and I kept that open window against a crowd. Everybody who came in--and -the room was soon packed--wanted to shut it. They stretched over me and -I arose from my slumbers and protested. For, in addition to a crowd, -the sanitary arrangements were abominable, and what the atmosphere would -have been like with the window shut I tremble to think. I remembered the -tales of the pestilential resthouses into which the travelling exiles -had been thrust, and I was thankful for that window, thankful too that -it was summer-time, for in winter I suppose we would have had to shut -it. At last one woman pulled at my rugs and said--though I could not -understand her language her meaning was plain enough--that it was all -very well for me, I had plenty of rugs, it was they who had nothing. -It was a fair complaint, so with many qualms I shared my rugs and the -summer night slowly wore to morning. - -And morning brought its own difficulties. Russian washing arrangements -to me are always difficult. I had met them first in Kharbin in the house -of Mr Poland. I wrestled with the same thing in the house of the Chief -of Police in Saghalien, and I met it in an aggravated form here in the -railway station waiting-room. A Russian basin has not a plug--it is -supposed to be cleaner to wash in running water--and the tap is a twirly -affair with two spouts, and on pressing a little lever water gushes -out of both and, theoretically, you may direct it where you please. -Practically I found that while I was directing one stream of water down -on to my hands, the other hit me in the eye or the ear, and when I got -that right the first took advantage of inattention and deluged me round -the waist. It may be my inexperience, but I do not like Russian basins. -It was running water with a vengeance, it all ran away. - -However, I did the best I could, and after, as my face was a little -rough and sore from the hot sun of the day before, I took out a jar of -hazeline cream and began to rub it on my cheeks. This proceeding aroused -intense interest in the women around. What they imagined the cream was -for I don't know, but one and all they came and begged some, and as long -as that pot held out every woman within range had hazeline cream daubed -on her weather-beaten cheeks, and they omitted to rub it off, apparently -considering it ornamental. However, hazeline cream is a pleasant -preparation. - -Having dressed, Buchanan and I had the long day before us, and I did not -dare leave the railway station to explore because I was uneasy about my -luggage. I had had it put in the corner of the refreshment-room and as -far as I could see no one was responsible for it, and as people were -coming and going the livelong day I felt bound to keep an eye upon it. -I also awaited with a good deal of interest the gentleman with the -variegated uniform and my ten-pound note. He came at last, and explained -in French that he had got the change but he could not give it to me till -the train came in because of the thieves and robbers, as if he would -insist upon tearing the veil of romance I had mapped round Siberia. And -God forgive me that I doubted the honesty of a very kindly, courteous -gentleman. - -It was a long, long day because there was really nothing to do save to -walk about for Buchanan's benefit, and I diversified things by taking -odd meals in the refreshment-room whenever I felt I really must do -something. But I was very tired. I began to feel I had been travelling -too long, and I really think if it had not been for Buchanan's sympathy -I should have wept. No one seemed at all certain when the next train -west might be expected, opinions, judging by fingers pointing at the -clock, varying between two o'clock in the afternoon and three o'clock -next morning. However, as the evening shadows were beginning to fall -a train did come in, and my friend in uniform, suddenly appearing, -declared it was the western train. Taking me by the hand, he led me into -a carriage and, shutting the door and drawing down the blinds, placed in -my hands change for my ten-pound note. - -“Guard your purse, Madame,” said he, “guard your purse. There are -thieves and robbers everywhere!” - -So all the way across Siberia had I been warned of the unsafe condition -of the country. At Kharbin, at Nikolayeusk, at Blagoveschensk men -whose good faith I could not doubt assured me that a ten-pound note and -helplessness was quite likely to spell a sudden and ignominious end to -my career, and this was in the days when no one doubted the power of the -Tsar, a bitter commentary surely on an autocracy. What the condition of -Siberia must be now, with rival factions fighting up and down the land, -and released German prisoners throwing the weight of their strength in -with the Bolshevists, I tremble to think. - -When he made sure I had carefully hidden my money and thoroughly -realised the gravity of the situation, my friend offered to get my -ticket, a second-class ticket, he suggested. I demurred. I am not rich -and am not above saving my pennies, but a first-class ticket was so -cheap, and ensured so much more privacy, that a second-class was an -economy I did not feel inclined to make. He pointed round the carriage -in which we were seated. Was this not good enough for anyone? It was. -I had to admit it, and the argument was clinched by the fact that there -was not a first-class carriage on the train. The ticket only cost about -five pounds and another pound bought a ticket for Buchanan. We got -in--my friend in need got in with me, that misjudged friend; it seemed -he was the stationmaster at a little place a little way down the -line--and we were fairly off on our road to the West. - - - - -CHAPTER XV--ON A RUSSIAN MILITARY TRAIN - -I was in the train at last, fairly on my way home, and I was glad. But -I wasn't glad for very long. I began to wish myself back in the railway -station at Stretensk, where at least I had fresh air. At first I had the -window open and a corner seat. There are only two people on a seat in a -Russian long-distance train, because when night falls they let down the -seat above, which makes a bunk for the second person. But I was -second class and my compartment opened without a door into the other -compartments in the carriage, also two more bunks appeared crossways, -and they were all filled with people. We were four women, two men who -smoked, a baby who cried, and my little dog. I spread out my rugs and -cushions, and when I wanted the window open the majority were against -me. Not only was the window shut, but every ventilating arrangement was -tightly closed also, and presently the atmosphere was pestilential. -I grew desperate. I wandered out of the carriage and got on to the -platform at the end, where the cold wind--for all it was August--cut me -like a knife. The people objected to that cold wind coming in, and the -next time I wandered out for a breath of fresh air I found the door -barred and no prayers of mine would open it. In that carriage the people -were packed like sardines, but though I was three-quarters suffocated -no one else seemed at all the worse. I couldn't have looked at breakfast -next morning, but the rest of the company preened themselves and fed -cheerfully from the baskets they carried. Then at last I found a student -going to a Western Siberian university who spoke a little French and -through him I told the authorities that if I could not be transferred -to a first-class carriage I was to be left behind at the next station. I -had spent a night in a station and I knew all about it; it wasn't nice, -but it was infinitely preferable to a night in a crowded second-class -carriage. - -After a little while the train master came and with the aid of the -student informed me that there would be a first-class carriage a little -farther on and if there was room I should go in it, also we would know -in an hour or so. - -So I bore up, and at a little town in the hills I was taken to a -first-class compartment. There were three--that is, six bunks--making -up half of a second-class carriage, and they were most luxurious, with -mirrors and washing arrangements complete. The one I entered was already -occupied by a very stout woman who, though we did not know any tongue in -common, made me understand she was going to a place we would reach next -morning for an operation, and she apologised--most unnecessarily but -most courteously--for making me take the top bunk. She had a big Irish -setter with her whom she called “Box”--“Anglisky,” as she said--and -“Box” was by no means as courteous and friendly as his mistress, and not -only objected to Buchanan's presence but said so in no measured terms. -I had to keep my little dog up on the top bunk all the time, where -he peered over and whimpered protestingly at intervals. There was one -drawback, and so kind and hospitable was my stable companion that I -hardly liked to mention it, but the atmosphere in that compartment you -could have cut with a knife. Wildly I endeavoured to open the windows, -and she looked at me in astonishment. But I was so vehement that the -student was once more brought along to interpret, and then everybody -took a turn at trying to open that window. I must say I think it was -exceedingly kind and hospitable of them, for these people certainly -shrank from the dangers of a draught quite as much as I did from the -stuffiness of a shut window. But it was all to no purpose. That window -had evidently never been opened since the carriage was made and it held -on gallantly to the position it had taken up. They consulted together, -and at length the student turned to me: - -“Calm yourself, Madame, calm yourself; a man will come with an -instrument.” And three stations farther down the line a man did appear -with an instrument and opened that window, and I drew in deep breaths of -exceedingly dusty fresh air. - -The lady in possession and I shared our breakfast. She made the tea, and -she also cleaned out the kettle by the simple process of emptying the -tea leaves into the wash-hand basin. That, as far as I saw, was the -only use she made of the excellent washing arrangements supplied by -the railway. But it is not for me to carp, she was so kind, and bravely -stood dusty wind blowing through the compartment all night just because -I did not like stuffiness. And when she was gone, O luxury! Buchanan and -I had the carriage to ourselves all the way to Irkutsk. - -And this was Siberia. We were going West, slowly it is true, but with -wonderful swiftness I felt when I remembered--and how should I not -remember every moment of the time?--that this was the great and -sorrowful road along which the exiles used to march, that the summer -sun would scorch them, these great plains would be snow-covered and the -biting, bitter wind would freeze them long before they reached their -destination. I looked ahead into the West longingly; but I was going -there, would be there in less than a fortnight at the most, while their -reluctant feet had taken them slowly, the days stretched into weeks, the -weeks into months, and they were still tramping east into an exile that -for all they knew would be lifelong. Ah! but this road must have been -watered with blood and tears. Every river, whether they were ferried -over it or went across on the ice, must have seemed an added barrier to -the man or woman thinking of escape; every forest would mean for them -either shelter or danger, possibly both, for I had not forgotten the -tigers of the Amur and the bears and wolves that are farther west. And -yet the steppes, those hopeless plains, must have afforded still less -chance of escape. - -Oh! my early ideas were right after all. Nature was jailer enough here -in Siberia. Men did escape, we know, but many more must have perished -in the attempt, and many, many must have resigned themselves to their -bitter fate, for surely all the forces of earth and air and sky had -ranged themselves on the side of the Tsar. This beautiful country, and -men had marched along it in chains! - -At Chita, greatly to my surprise, my _sotnik_ of Cossacks joined the -train, and we greeted eaeh other as old friends. Indeed I was pleased to -see his smiling face again, and Buchanan benefited largely, for many -a time when I was not able to take him out for a little run our friend -came along and did it for us. - -The platforms at Siberian stations are short and this troop train, -packed with soldiers, was long, so that many a time our carriage never -drew up at the platform at all. This meant that the carriage was usually -five feet from the ground, and often more. I am a little woman and -five feet was all I could manage, when it was more it was beyond me. Of -course I could have dropped down, but it would have been impossible to -haul myself up again, to say nothing of getting Buchanan on board. A -Russian post train--and this troop train was managed to all intents and -purposes as a post train--stops at stations along the line so that the -passengers may get food, and five minutes before it starts it rings a -“Make ready” bell one minute before it rings a second bell, “Take your -seats,” and with a third bell off the train goes. And it would have gone -inexorably even though I, having climbed down, had been unable to climb -up again. Deeply grateful then were Buehanan and I to the _sotnik_ of -Cossacks, who recognised our limitations and never forgot us. - -I liked these Russian post trains far better than the train _de luxe_, -with its crowd and its comforts and its cosmopolitan atmosphere. A -Russian post train in those days had an atmosphere of its own. It was -also much cheaper. From Stretensk to Petrograd, including Buehanan, the -cost was a little over nine pounds for the tickets, and I bought my food -by the way. It was excellent and very cheap. All the things I had bought -in Kharbin, especially the kettles, came into use once more. The moment -the train stopped out tumbled the soldiers, crowds and crowds of them, -and raced for the provision stalls and for the large boilers full of -water that are a feature of every Russian station on the overland line. -These boilers are always enclosed in a building just outside the railway -station, and the spouts for the boiling water, two, three and sometimes -four in a row, come out through the walls. Beside every spout is an iron -handle which, being pulled, brings the boiling water gushing out. -Russia even in those days before the revolution struck me as strangely -democratic, for the soldiers, the non-commissioned officers, the -officers and everyone else on the train mingled in the struggle for hot -water. I could never have got mine filled, but my Cossack friend always -remembered me and if he did not come himself sent someone to get my -kettles. Indeed everyone vied in being kind to the Englishwoman, to -show, I think, their good will to the only representative of the Allied -nation on the train. - -It was at breakfast-time one warm morning I first made the acquaintance -of “that very great officer,” as the others called him, the captain of -the _Askold_. He was in full naval uniform, and at that time I was not -accustomed to seeing naval officers in uniform outside their ships, and -he was racing along the platform, a little teapot in one hand, intent -on filling it with hot water to make coffee. He was not ashamed to -pause and come to the assistance of a foreigner whom he considered the -peasants were shamefully overcharging. They actually wanted her to pay a -farthing a piece for their largest cucumbers! He spoke French and so we -were able to communicate, and he was kind enough to take an interest in -me and declare that he himself would provide me with cucumbers. He got -me four large ones and when I wanted to repay him he laughed and said -it was hardly necessary as they only cost a halfpenny! He had the -compartment next to mine and that morning he sent me in a glass of -coffee--we didn't run to cups on that train. Excellent coffee it was -too. Indeed I was overwhelmed with provisions. One woman does not want -very much to eat, but unless I supplied myself liberally and made it -patent to all that I had enough and more than enough I was sure to be -supplied by my neighbours out of friendship for my nation. From the -Cossack officer, from a Hussar officer and his wife who had come up -from Ugra in Mongolia, and from the captain of the _Askold_ I was always -receiving presents. Chickens, smoked fish--very greasy, in a sheet of -paper, eaten raw and very excellent--raspberries and blue berries, to -say nothing of cucumbers, were rained upon me. - -At some stations there was a buffet and little tables set about -where the first and second class passengers could sit down and have -_déjeuner_, or dinner, but oftener, especially in the East, we all -dashed out, first, second and third class, and at little stalls presided -over by men with kerchiefs on their heads and sturdy bare feet, women -that were a joy to me after the effete women of China, bought what we -wanted, took it back with us into the carriages and there ate it. I had -all my table things in a basket, including a little saucer for Buchanan. -It was an exceedingly economical arrangement, and I have seldom enjoyed -food more. The bread and butter was excellent. You could buy fine white -bread, and bread of varying quality to the coarse black bread eaten by -the peasant, and I am bound to say I very much like fine white bread. -There was delicious cream; there were raspberries and blue berries to -be bought for a trifle; there were lemons for the tea; there was German -beet sugar; there were roast chickens at sixpence apiece, little pasties -very excellent for twopence-halfpenny, and rapchicks, a delicious little -bird a little larger than a partridge, could be bought for fivepence, -and sometimes there was plenty of honey. Milk, if a bottle were -provided, could be had for a penny-farthing a quart, and my neighbours -soon saw that I did not commit the extravagance of paying three times as -much for it, which was what it cost if you bought the bottle. - -The English, they said, were very rich! and they were confirmed in their -belief when they found how I bought milk. Hard-boiled eggs were to be -had in any quantity, two and sometimes three for a penny-farthing. I am -reckoning the kopeck as a farthing. These were first-class prices, the -soldiers bought much more cheaply. Enough meat to last a man a day could -be bought for a penny-farthing, and good meat too--such meat nowadays I -should pay at least five shillings for. - -Was all this abundance because the exiles had tramped wearily across the -steppes? How much hand had they had in the settling of the country? I -asked myself the question many times, but nowhere found an answer. The -stations were generally crowded, but the country round was as empty as -it had been along the Amur. - -And the train went steadily on. Very slowly though--we only went at the -rate of three hundred versts a day, why, I do not know. There we stuck -at platforms where there was nothing to do but walk up and down and look -at the parallel rails coming out of the East on the horizon and running -away into the West on the horizon again. - -“We shall never arrive,” I said impatiently. - -“Ah! Madame, we arrive, we arrive,” said the Hussar officer, and he -spoke a little sadly. And then I remembered that for him arrival meant -parting with his comely young wife and his little son. They had with -them a fox-terrier whom I used to ask into my compartment to play with -Buchanan, and they called him “Sport.” - -“An English name,” they said smilingly. If ever I have a fox-terrier -I shall call him “Sport,” in kindly remembrance of the owners of the -little friend I made on that long, long journey across the Old World. -And the Hussar officer's wife, I put it on record, liked fresh air as -much as I did myself. As I walked up and down the train, even though -it was warm summer weather, I always knew our two carriages because in -spite of the dust we had our windows open. The rest of the passengers -shut theirs most carefully. The second class were packed, and the third -class were simply on top of one another--I should not think they could -have inserted another baby--and the reek that came from the open doors -and that hung about the people that came out of them was disgusting. - -I used to ask my Cossack friend to tea sometimes--I could always buy -cakes by the wayside--and he was the only person I ever met who took -salt with his tea. He assured me the Mongolians always did so, but I -must say though I have tried tea in many ways I don't like that custom. - -In Kobdo, ten thousand feet among the mountains in the west of Mongolia, -was a great lama, and the Cossack was full of this man's prophecy. - -Three emperors, said the lama, would fight. One would be overwhelmed and -utterly destroyed, the other would lose immense sums of money, and the -third would have great glory. - -“The Tsar, Madame,” said my friend, “the Tsar, of course, is the third.” - -I wonder what part he took in the revolution. He was a Balt, a man from -the Baltic Provinces, heart and soul with the Poles, and he did not even -call himself a Russian. Well, the Tsar has been overwhelmed, but which -is the one who is to have great glory? After all, the present is no very -great time for kings and emperors. I am certainly not taking any stock -in them as a whole. Perhaps that lama meant the President of the United -States! - -We went round Lake Baikal, and the Holy Sea, that I had seen before one -hard plain of glittering ice, lay glittering now, beautiful still in the -August sunshine. There were white sails on it and a steamer or two, and -men were feverishly working at alterations on the railway. The Angara -ran swiftly, a mighty river, and we steamed along it into the Irkutsk -station, which is by no means Irkutsk, for the town is--Russian -fashion--four miles away on the other side of the river. - -At Irkutsk it seemed to me we began to be faintly Western again. And the -exiles who had come so far I suppose abandoned hope here. All that they -loved--all their life--lay behind. I should have found it hard to turn -back and go east myself now. What must that facing east have been for -them? - -They turned us out of the train, and Buchanan and I were ruefully -surveying our possessions, heaped upon the platform, wondering how on -earth we were to get them taken to the cloakroom and how we should -get them out again supposing they were taken, when the captain of the -_Askold_ appeared with a porter. - -“Would Madame permit,” he asked, not as if he were conferring a favour, -“that her luggage be put with mine in the cloakroom?” - -Madame could have hugged him. Already the dusk was falling, the -soft, warm dusk, and the people were hastening to the town or to the -refreshment-rooms. There would be no train that night, said my kind -friend, some time in the morning perhaps, but certainly not that night. -I sighed. Again I was adrift, and it was not a comfortable feeling. - -If Madame desired to dine---- Madame did desire to dine. - -Then if Madame permits---- Of course Madame permitted. - -She was most grateful. And we dined together at the same table outside -the station restaurant--I like that fashion of dining outside--under the -brilliant glare of the electric light. He arranged everything for me, -even to getting some supper for Buchanan. And I forgot the exiles who -had haunted me, forgot this was Siberia. Here in the restaurant, save -for the Tartar waiters, it might almost have been France. - -“Perhaps,” said my companion courteously as we were having coffee, -“Madame would care to come to my hotel. I could interpret for her and -here no one speaks anything but Russian.” - -Again I could have hugged him. I intimated my dressing-bag was in the -cloakroom, but he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. - -“For one night!” - -He himself had nothing, so there and then we got into one of the usual -decrepit landaus and went to the town, to Irkutsk on the Angara, in the -heart of Siberia. If in my girlish days when I studied the atlas of the -world so carefully I could have known that one day I should be driving -into Irkutsk, that map would have been glorified for ever and a day; -but I could never have realised, never, that it would be set in a summer -land, warm as my own country, and that I should feel it a great step on -towards the civilisation of the West. - -It was night, and here and there clustering electric lights glittered -like diamonds, making darker the spaces in between. In the morning I saw -that the capital of Eastern Siberia, like all the other towns of that -country, is a regular frontier town. There were the same wide streets -grass-grown at the edges, great houses and small houses side by side, -and empty spaces where as yet there were no houses. We went to the -Central Hotel. - -“I do not go to an expensive hotel,” my companion told me, “this is a -moderate one.” - -But if it were moderate it certainly was a very large and nice hotel. -Russian hotels do not as a rule provide food, the restaurant is -generally separate, but we had already dined. That naval officer made -all arrangements for me. He even explained to an astonished chamber-maid -with her hair done in two long plaits that I must have all the windows -open and when I tried for a bath did his best for me. But again, he -explained, Russians as a rule go to a bath-house, and there was only -one bathroom in this hotel; it had been engaged for two hours by a -gentleman, and he thought, seeing I should have to start early in the -morning, it might be rather late for me to have a bath then, but if I -liked in the morning it would be at my service. - -If anyone had told me in the old days that going to Irkutsk I should be -deeply interested in a bath! - -I engaged that bath for an hour in the morning as that seemed to be the -correct thing to do. Then I went to bed and heartily envied Buchanan, -who did not have to bother about toilet arrangements. - -In the morning early there was a knock at the door and when I said “Come -in,” half expecting tea, there was my naval officer in full uniform -smilingly declaring my bath was ready, he had paid the bill, and I could -pay him back when we were on board the train. The chamber-maid, with -her hair still done in two plaits--I rather fancy she had slept in -them--conducted me to the bathroom, and I pass over the difficulty of -doing without brush and comb and tooth-brush. But I washed the dust -out of my hair, and when I was as tidy as I could manage I joined -the captain of the _Askold_ and we drove back through the town to the -railway station. - -The station was a surging mass of people all talking at once, and all, -I suppose, objurgating the railway management, but we two had breakfast -together in the pleasant sunlight. We had fresh rolls and butter and -coffee and cream and honey--I ask no better breakfast when these things -are good--and meanwhile people, officials, came and went, discussing -evidently some important matter with my friend. He departed for a -moment, and then the others that I had known came up, my Cossack friend -and the Hussar officer, and told me that the outgoing train was a -military train, it would be impossible for a woman, a civilian and a -foreigner at that, to go on it. I said the captain of the _Askold_ had -assured me I could, and they shook their heads and then said hopefully, -well, he was a very great officer, the captain of a ship, and I realised -that no lesser authority could possibly have managed this thing for -me. And even he was doubtful, for when he came back and resumed his -interrupted breakfast he said: - -“The train is full. The military authorities will not allow you on -board.” - -That really did seem to me tragedy at the moment. I forgot the sorrowful -people who would gladly enough have stayed their journey at Irkutsk. But -their faces were set East. I forgot that after all a day or two out of a -life would not matter very much, or rather I think I hated to part from -these kindly friends I had made on the train. I suppose I looked my -disappointment. - -“Wait. Wait. It is not yet finished,” said my friend kindly. “They give -me two compartments”--I felt then he was indeed “a very great officer,” - for the people were packed in that train, tier upon tier, like herrings -in a barrel--“and I cannot sleep in four bunks. It is ridiculous.” - -That may have been, but it was kindness itself of him to establish a -stranger in one of those compartments. It was most comfortable, and -Buchanan and I being established, and my luggage having come safely to -hand, I proceeded to make the most of the brush and comb that had come -once more into my possession, and I felt that the world was a very good -place indeed as we sped across the green plain in the sunny morning. I -could hardly believe that this goodly land was the one to which I had -always been accustomed to think men went as to a living death. - -And then I forgot other folks' troubles in my own, for envious eyes were -cast upon the spare bunk in my compartment. No one would have dreamt of -interfering had the sailor insisted upon having all four for himself, -but since he had parted with the rights of one compartment to a foreign -woman, it was evident that other people, crowded out, began to think -of their own comfort. Various people interviewed me. I am afraid -I understood thoroughly what they wanted, but I did not understand -Russian, and I made the most of that disability. Also all my friends who -spoke French kept out of the way, so I suppose they did not wish to -aid and abet in upsetting my comfort. At last a most extraordinary -individual with a handkerchief tied round his neck in lieu of a collar -and a little tourist cap on the back of his head was brought, and he -informed me in French that there was a doctor in the hospital section -of the train who had not been in bed for a week, they could not turn -the soldiers out, they must have rest, would I allow him to sleep in my -compartment? - -“Madame,” he said, and the officials standing round emphasised the -remark, if it needed emphasis, “it is war time. The train is for the -soldiers.” - -Certainly I was here on sufferance. They had a right to turn me out if -they liked. So the doctor came and turned in in the top bunk, and his -long-drawn snores took away from my sense of privacy. - -I don't think he liked it very much, for presently he was succeeded by -a train official, very drunk, though I am bound to say he was the only -drunken man I saw on all that long train journey from Stretensk to -Petrograd. It was a little unlucky we were at such close quarters. -Everyone, too, was very apologetic. - -He was a good fellow. It was an unfortunate accident and he would be -very much ashamed. - -I suppose he was, for the next day he too disappeared and his place -was taken by a professor from one of the Siberian universities who was -seeking radium. He was a nice old gentleman who had learned English -but had never had the chance of hearing it spoken. Where he went in the -daytime I do not know, probably to a friend's compartment, and Buchanan -and I had the place to ourselves. We could and did invite the Cossack -officer and the Hussar officer and his belongings and the naval man to -tea, and we had great games with the little fox-terrier “Sport” from -next door, but when night fell the professor turned up and notified me -he was about to go to bed. Then he retired and I went to bed first on -the lower seat. He knocked, came in and climbed up to his bunk, and -we discoursed on the affairs of the world, I correcting his curious -pronunciation. He really was a man of the world; he was the sort of man -I had expected to meet in Siberia, only I had never imagined him as free -and sharing a railway compartment with me. I should have expected to -find him toiling across the plains with the chains that bound his ankles -hitched to his belt for convenience of carrying. But he looked and -he spoke as any other cultivated old gentleman might have spoken, -and looking back I see that his views of the war, given in the end of -August, 1914, were quite the soundest I have ever listened to. - -“The Allies will win,” he used to say, “yes, they will win.” And he -shook his head. “But it will be a long war, and the place will be -drenched in blood first. Two years, three years, I think four years.” I -wonder if he foresaw the chaos that would fall upon Russia. - -These views were very different from those held by the other men. - -“Madame,” the Cossack would say, laughing, “do you know a good hotel in -Berlin?” - -I looked up surprised. “Because,” he went on, “I engage a room there. We -go to Berlin!” - -“Peace dictated at Berlin,” said they all again and again, “peace -dictated at Berlin.” This was during the first onward rush of the -Russians. Then there came a setback, two towns were taken and the -Germans demanded an indemnity of twenty thousand pounds apiece. - -“Very well,” said the Cossack grimly, and the Hussar nodded his head. -“They have set the tune. Now we know what to ask.” - -But the professor looked grave. “Many towns will fall,” said he. - -Another thing that struck me was the friendly relations of the officers -with those under them. As the only representative of their Western -Ally on the train, I was something of a curiosity, and soldiers and -non-commissioned officers liked to make excuse to look at me. I only -wished I had been a little smarter and better-looking for the sake of my -country, for I had had no new clothes since the end of 1912. However, I -had to make the best of it, and the men came to me on the platforms or -to my compartment without fear. If by chance they knew a little French -they spoke to me, helped out by their officers if their vocabulary ran -short. - -“Madame, Madame,” said an old non-commissioned officer, “would you be -so good as to tell me how to pronounce the English 'zee'? I teach myself -French, now I teach myself English.” - -Well, they had all been good to me and I had no means of repaying their -kindness save vicariously, so I took him in hand and with the aid of a -booklet published by the Wagons Lit Train du Luxe describing the journey -across Siberia we wrestled with the difficulties of the English “th.” - -It was a long long journey. We crept across the great steppes, we -lingered by stations, sometimes there were lakes, sometimes great -rivers, but always the great plains. Far as the eye could see rolled the -extent of green under the clear blue sky; often we saw herds of cattle -and mobs of horses, and again and again companies of soldiers, and -yet so vast is the country the sensation left upon the stranger is of -emptiness, of a rich and fertile land crying out for inhabitants. I -looked at it from the train with eager eyes, but I began to understand -how there had grown up in my mind the picture of this lovely land as -a dark and terrible place. To the prisoners who came here this plain, -whether it were green and smiling, or whether it were deep in white -snow, could only have been the barrier that cut them off from home and -hope, from all that made life dear. How could they take up their broken -lives here, they who for the most part were dwellers in the cities? - -Here was a regiment of soldiers; it was nothing, nothing, set in the -vast plain. The buttercups and daisies and purple vetches were trampled -down for a great space where men had been exercising or camping; but it -was nothing. There were wide stretches of country where the cattle were -peacefully feeding and where the flowers turned up smiling faces to the -blue sky for miles and miles, making me forget that this had been the -land of shadowed lives in the past and that away in the West men were -fighting for their very existence, locked in a death-grip such as the -world has never before seen. - -It was well there was something to look out upon, for that train was -horrid. I realised something of the horrors of the post-houses in which -the prisoners had been locked at night. We could get good food at every -station, but in the train we were too close on the ground and the -reek of us went up to heaven. I felt as if the atmosphere of the train -desecrated the fresh, clear air of the great plain over which we passed, -as if we must breed disease. The journey seemed interminable, and what -I should do when it ended I did not know, for opinion was fairly -unanimous: they were sure I could not get to England! - -With many apologies the captain of the _Askold_ permitted himself to ask -how I was off for money. I was a total stranger, met on a train, and a -foreigner! I told him I had a little over forty pounds and if that were -not enough I had thought to be able to send to London for more. - -He shook his head. - -“I doubt if even letters can get through.” - -And I sighed that then I did not know what I should do, for I had no -friends in Petrograd. - -“Pardon, Madame,” said he remonstrantly, and he gave me the address of -his wife and daughters. He told me to go and see them; he assured me -that everybody in Russia now wanted to learn English, that I would have -no difficulty in getting pupils and so do myself very comfortably “till -we make a passage to England again.” - -Just before we reached Cheliabynsk he came and told me that he had heard -there was a west-bound express with one place vacant, a ship awaited him -and speed was very necessary, therefore he was leaving this train. Then -at one of the greater stopping-places he bowed low over my hand, bade me -farewell, made a dash and caught the express. I have never either seen -or heard of him since, but he remains in my mind as one of the very -kindly men I have met on my way through the world. - -At Cheliabynsk we spent the livelong day, for there the main part of the -train went on to Moscow with the soldiers, while we who wanted to go -to Petrograd caught a train in the evening. I was glad to find that the -Hussar officer and the Cossack were both bound for Petrograd. And here -we came in touch once more with the West. There was a bookstall, and -though I could not buy an English paper I could and did buy an English -book, one of John Galsworthy's in the Tauchnitz edition. It was a great -delight to come in contact once more with something I could read. There -was a big refreshment-room here with all manner of delectable things to -eat, only we had passed beyond the sturgeon, and caviare was no longer -to be had save at a price that was prohibitive to a woman who had had as -much as she could eat and who anyhow was saving her pennies in case of -contingencies. - -But one thing I did have, and that was a bath. In fact the whole train -bathed. Near the station was a long row of bath-houses, but each one -I visited--and they all seemed unpleasant places--was crowded with -soldiers. After a third attempt to get taken in my Cossack friend met -me and was shocked at the idea of my going to such a place; if I would -trust him he would take me to a proper place after _déjeuner_. - -Naturally I trusted him gladly, and we got into one of the usual -broken-down landaus and drove away to the other side of the town to a -row of quite superior bath-houses. My friend declared he knew the -place well, he had been stationed here in “the last revolution,” as if -revolutions came as regularly as the seasons. - -It was a gorgeous bath-house. That young man bought me soap; he bought -me some sort of loofah for scrubbing; he escorted me to three large -rooms which I engaged for a couple of hours and, much to the surprise of -the people, having had the windows opened, he left me, assuring me that -the carriage should return for me in two hours. There was plenty of hot -water, plenty of cold, and any amount of towels, and both Buchanan and -I washed the grime of the journey from us and then rested on the sofa in -the retiring-room. I read John Galsworthy and punctually to the moment -I descended to the street, clean and refreshed, and there our carriage -awaited us. - -We bought water-melons on our way back to the train, for the streets -were heaped up with the great dark green melons with the pink flesh that -I had not seen since I left Australia. Autumn was on the land and here -were watermelons proof thereof. - -Ever as we went west the cornfields increased. Most of the wheat was cut -and standing in golden-brown stooks waiting to be garnered by old men -and boys and sturdy country women and those who were left of her young -men, for Russia had by no means called out her last lines in 1914. There -were still great patches of forest, primeval forest, of dense fir, and I -remembered that here must be the haunts of the wolves and the bear with -which I had always associated Russia. More, though why I know not, -my mind flew back to the times of the nomad hordes who, coming out of -Central Asia, imposed their rule upon the fair-haired Aryan race that -had settled upon the northern plain of Europe. Those forests for me -spelled Romance; they took away from the feeling of commonplaceness that -the breaking down of my preconceived ideas of Siberia had engendered. -Almost anything might happen in a land that held such forests, and such -rivers. Not that I was allowed to see much of the rivers now. Someone -always came in and drew down the blinds in my compartment--I had one to -myself since leaving Cheliabynsk--and told me I must not go out on -the platform whenever we crossed a bridge. They were evidently taking -precautions against spying though they were too polite to say so. There -were big towns with stations packed to overflowing. At Perm we met some -German prisoners of war, and there were soldiers, soldiers everywhere, -and at last one day in the first week in September we steamed into -Petrograd. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI--THE WAYS OF THE FINNS - -It was evening and we had arrived at Petrograd. For many years I -had wanted to see the northern capital. I had thought of it as a town -planned by a genius, slowly growing amid surrounding swamps, and in -my childhood I had pictured that genius as steadily working as a -carpenter--in a white paper cap--having always in his mind's eye the -town that was to grow on the Baltic Sea, the seaport that should give -his country free access to the civilisation of the West. He was a great -hero of mine because of his efficiency; after all I see no reason why I -should dethrone him now that I realise he had the faults of his time and -his position. - -But in life I find things always come differently to what one pictures -them. The little necessities of life will crop up and must be attended -to first and foremost. The first thought that came to me was that I had -to part with the friends I had made on the journey. Right away from the -borders of China the Cossack officer and I had travelled together; I had -met the Hussar officer and his wife soon after I had joined the train, -and we seemed to have come out of one world into another together. It -made a bond, and I for one was sorry to part. They were going to their -own friends or to a Russian hotel, and the general consensus of opinion -was that I would be more comfortable in a hotel where there were English -or at least French people. - -“Go to the Grand Hotel, Madame,” suggested the Hussar officer's wife, -she who spoke perfect French. - -So Buchanan and I loaded our belongings on to a droshky that looked -smart after the ones I had been accustomed to in Asia, bade farewell to -our friends “till after the war”--the Cossack was coming to England then -“to buy a dog”--and drove to the Grand Hotel. - -The Grand Hotel spoke perfect English, looked at me and--declined to -take me because I had a little dog. I was very much astonished, -but clearly I couldn't abandon Buehanan, so I went on to the Hotel -d'Angleterre, which also declined. I went from hotel to hotel and -they all said the same thing, they could not think of taking in anyone -accompanied by a dog. It was growing dark--it was dark, and after a -fortnight on the train I was weary to death. How could I think of the -glories of the Russian capital when I was wondering where I could find -a resting-place? I couldn't turn Buchanan adrift in the streets, I -couldn't camp in the streets myself, and the hotel porters who could -speak English had no suggestions to make as to where I could bestow my -little friend in safety. Six hotels we went to and everyone was firm and -polite, they could not take a dog. At last a hotel porter had a great -idea, the Hotel Astoria would take dogs. - -“Why on earth didn't someone tell me so before?” I said, and promptly -went to the Hotel Astoria. It was rather like going to the Hotel Ritz, -and though I should like to stay at the Hotel Ritz I would not recommend -it to anyone who was fearing an unlimited stay in the country, who had -only forty pounds to her credit and was not at all sure she could get -any more. Still the Hotel Astoria took little dogs, actually welcomed -them, and charged four shillings a day for their keep. I forgot Peter -the Great and the building of the capital of Russia, revelling in the -comforts of a delightful room all mirrors, of a bathroom attached and -a dinner that it was worth coming half across the world to meet. My -spirits rose and I began to be quite sure that all difficulties would -pass away, I should be able to get back to England and there would be -no need for that desperate economy. It was delightful to go to bed in -a still bed between clean white sheets, to listen to the rain upon the -window and to know that for this night at least all was well. I had seen -no English papers; I knew nothing about the war, and it is a fact one's -own comfort is very apt to colour one's views of life. Buchanan agreed -with me this was a very pleasant world--as a rule I do find the world -pleasant--it was impossible anything could go wrong in it. - -And the next day I received a snub--a snub from my own people. - -I went to the British Consulate full of confidence. Every foreigner I -had met all across the world had been so pleased to see me, had been so -courteous and kind, had never counted the cost when I wanted help, so -that I don't know what I didn't expect from my own countrymen. I looked -forward very mueh to meeting them. And the young gentleman in office -snubbed me properly. He wasn't wanting any truck with foolish women who -crossed continents; he didn't care one scrap whether I had come from -Saghalien or just walked down the Nevsky Prospekt; I was a nuisance -anyway, his manner gave me to understand, since I disturbed his peace -and quiet, and the sooner I took myself out of the country the better -he would be pleased. He just condescended to explain where I could get a -ticket straight through to Newcastle-on-Tyne; people were doing it every -day; he didn't know anything about the war, and his manner gave me to -understand that it wasn't his business to supply travellers with news. -I walked out of that office with all the jauntiness taken out of me. -Possibly, I have thought since, he was depressed at the news from -France, perhaps someone was jeering him because he had not joined up, or -else he had wanted to join up and was not allowed. It was unlucky that -my first Englishman after so long should be such a churlish specimen. I -felt that unless my necessity was dire indeed I should not apply to the -British Consulate for help in an emergency. I did not recover till I -went to the company who sold through tickets, across Finland, across -Sweden and Norway, across the North Sea to Newcastle-on-Tyne. There I -bought a ticket for fifteen pounds which was to carry me the whole -way. It was a Swedish company, I think, and the office was packed with -people, Poles, Letts, Lithuanians and Russians, who were naturalised -Americans and who wanted to go home. Everybody took the deepest interest -in Buchanan, so much interest that the man in charge asked me if I was -going to take him, I said “Of eourse,” and he shook his head. - -“You will never get him through Sweden. They are most strict.” - -Poor Buchanan! Despair seized me. Having been to the British Consulate, -I knew it was no use seeking advice there. I suppose I was too tired or -I should have remembered that Americans are always kind and helpful and -gone there or even dared the British Embassy. But these ideas occurred -to me too late. - -You may travel the world over and the places you visit will often remain -in your mind as pleasant or otherwise not because of any of their own -attributes, but because of the emotions you have suffered in them. Here -was I in St Petrograd, and instead of exploring streets and canals and -cathedrals and palaces my whole thoughts were occupied with the fate -of my little dog. I “had given my heart to a dog to tear” and I was -suffering in consequence. All the while I was in Petrograd--and I stayed -there three days looking for a way out--my thoughts were given to James -Buchanan. I discussed the matter with the authorities in the hotel who -could speak English, and finally Buchanan and I made a peregrination to -the Swedish Consulate. And though the Swedish Consulate was a deal more -civil and more interested in me and my doings than the English, in -the matter of a dog, even a nice little dog like Buchanan, they were -firm--through Sweden he could not go. - -I read in the paper the other day that the world might be divided into -men and women and people-who-hate-dogs, and these last will wonder what -I was making such a fuss about, but the men and women will understand. -My dear little companion and friend had made the lonely places pleasant -for me and I could not get him out of the country save by turning round -and going back across Europe, Asia and America! - -I went back to the place where I had bought my ticket. They also were -sympathetic. Everyone in the office was interested in the tribulations -of the cheerful little black and white dog who sat on the counter and -wagged a friendly tail. I had many offers to take care of him for me, -and the consensus of opinion was that he might be smuggled! And many -tales were told me of dogs taken across the borders in overcoats and -muffs, or drugged in baskets. - -That last appealed to me. Buchanan was just too big to cany hidden -easily, but he might be drugged and covered up in a basket. I went back -to the Astoria and sent for a vet. Also I bought a highly ornamental -basket. The porter thought I was cruel. He thought I might leave the dog -with him till after the war, but he translated the vet's opinion for me, -and the vet gave me some sulphonal. He assured me the little dog would -be all right, and I tried to put worrying thoughts away from me and to -see Petrograd, the capital of the Tsars. - -But I had seen too much. There comes a moment, however keen you are on -seeing the world, when you want to see no new thing, when you want only -to close your eyes and rest, and I had arrived at that moment. The wide -and busy streets intersected with canals, the broad expanse of the Neva, -the cathedral and the Winter Palace were nothing to me; even the wrecked -German Embassy did not stir me. - -I was glad then when the fourth morning found me on the Finland station. -The Finland station was crowded and the Finland train, with only second -and third class carnages and bound for Raumo, was crowded also, and it -appeared it did not know its way very well as the line had only just -been opened to meet the traffic west diverted from Germany. A fortnight -before no one had ever heard of Raumo. - -And now for me the whole outlook was changed. This was no military -train, packed as it was, but a train of men, women and children -struggling to get out of the country, the flotsam and jetsam that come -to the surface at the beginning of a war. And I heard again for the -first time since I left Tientsin, worlds away, English spoken that was -not addressed to me. To be sure it was English with an accent, the very -peculiar accent that belongs to Russians, Lithuanians, Poles and Letts -Americanised, and with it mingled the nasal tones of a young musician -from Central Russia who spoke the language of his adopted land with a -most exaggerated accent and the leisurely, cultivated tones of Oxford. - -I had come from the East to the West! - -The carriage was open from end to end and they would not allow Buchanan -to enter it. He, poor little man, in the gorgeous basket that he -objected to strongly, was banished to the luggage-van, and because the -carriage was hot, and also because I felt he would be lonely separated -from me, I went there and kept him company. - -And in that van I met another Russian naval officer and deepened my -obligations to the Russian navy. He sat down beside me on one of the -boxes, a tall, broad-shouldered, fair man who looked like a Viking with -his moustache shaved off. I found to my joy he spoke English, and I -confided to him my difficulties with regard to breakfast. I was so old -a traveller by now I had learned the wisdom of considering carefully the -commissariat. He was going to the forts on the Finnish border of which -he was in command, but before he left the train we would arrive at a -refreshment-room, and he undertook to arrange matters for me. And so he -did. - -Petrograd does not get up early, at least the Hotel Astoria did not, and -the most I could manage before I left was a cup of coffee, but I made -up for it at that first refreshment-room. The naval officer took entire -charge and, revelling in his importance, I not only had a very good -breakfast but made the most of my chances and, filling up my basket with -a view to future comforts, bought good things so that I might be able -to exchange civilities with my fellow-passengers on the way to Raumo. I -had eggs and sausages and new bread and scones and a plentiful supply -of fruit, to say nothing of sugar and lemons and cream and meat for -Buehanan--the naval man looking on smiling--and when I had really done -myself well I turned to him and demanded what I ought to pay. - -“Nothing, Madame. In Russia when a gentleman takes a lady for -refreshment he pays!” - -Imagine my horror! And I had stocked my basket so lavishly! - -My protests were useless. I was escorted back to our luggage-van and -my thoughts led gently from the coffee and eggs I had consumed and the -sausages and bread I had stowed away in my basket to the state of the -war as it struck the Russian naval mind. - -Had I heard about the sea fight in the Mediterranean? Not heard about -the little _Gloucester_ attacking the _Goeben_, the little _Gloucester_ -that the big German battleship could have eaten! A dwarf and a giant! -Madame! Madame! It was a sea fight that will go down through the ages! -Russia was ringing with it! - -“Do you know anyone in the English navy?” - -I said I had two brothers in the senior service, a little later and I -might have said three. - -“Then tell them,” said he earnestly, “we Russian sailors are proud to be -Allies of a nation that breeds such men as manned the _Gloucester!_” - -The Finnish border was soon reached and he left us, and the day went -on and discipline I suppose relaxed, for I brought Buchanan into the -carriage and made friends with the people who surrounded me. And then -once again did I bless the foresight of the Polish Jewess in Kharbin who -had impressed upon me the necessity for two kettles. They were a godsend -in that carriage. We commandeered glasses, we got hot water at wayside -stations and I made tea for all within reach, and a cup of tea to a -thirsty traveller, especially if that traveller be a woman, is certainly -a road to that traveller's good graces. - -Finland is curiously different from Russia. They used to believe in the -old sailing-ship days that every Finn was a magician. Whether they are -magicians or not, they have a beautiful country, though its beauty is -as different from that of the Amur as the Thames is from the Murray -in far-away Australia. Gone were the wide spaces of the earth and the -primitive peoples. We wandered through cultivated lands, we passed lake -and river and woods, crossed a wonderful salmon river, skirted Finland's -inland sea: here and there was a castle dominating the farmhouses and -little towns, the trees were turning, just touched gently by Autumn's -golden fingers, and I remembered I had watched the tender green of -the spring awakening on the other side of the world, more, I had been -travelling ever since. It made me feel weary--weary. And yet it was good -to note the difference in these lands that I had journeyed over. The air -here was clear, clear as it had been in China; it had that curious -charm that is over scenery viewed through a looking-glass, a charm I can -express in no other words. Unlike the great rivers of Russia, the little -rivers brawled over the stones, companionable little streams that 'made -you feel you might own them, on their banks spend a pleasant afternoon, -returning to a cosy fire and a cheery home when the dusk was falling. - -And this evening, our first day out, we, the little company in my -carriage, fell into trouble. - -We spoke among us many tongues, English, French, German, Polish, -Russian, Lettish, and one whose tongue was polyglot thought in Yiddish -and came from the streets, the “mean streets” of London, but not one -amongst us spoke Finnish, the language of the magicians, or could even -understand one word of it. This was unfortunate, for the Films either -spoke no language but their own or had a grudge against us and declined -to understand us. That didn't prevent them from turning us out that -night in a railway station in the heart of Finland and leaving us to -discover for ourselves that every hotel in the little town was full -to overflowing! Once more I was faced with it--a night in a railway -station. But my predicament was not so bad shared with others who spoke -my language. There was the Oxford man and the musician with a twang, -there was the wife of an American lawyer with her little boy and the -wife of an American doctor with her little girls--they all spoke English -of sorts, used it habitually--and there were four Austrian girls making -their way back to some place in Hungary. Of course, technically, they -were our enemies, while the Americans were neutral, but we all went in -together. The Russian-American musician had been in Leipsic and was most -disgustingly full of the mighty strength of Germany. - -The refreshment-rooms were shut, the whole place was in darkness, but -it was a mild night, with a gorgeous September moon sailing out into the -clear sky, and personally I should not have minded spreading my rugs and -sleeping outside. I should have liked it, in fact, but the tales of the -insecurity of Siberia still lingered in my consciousness, and when the -Oxford man said that one of the porters would put us up in his house I -gladly went along with all the others and, better still, took along my -bundles of rugs and cushions. - -The places that I have slept in! That porter had a quaint little wooden -house set in a garden and the whole place might have been lifted bodily -out of Hans Andersen. We had the freedom of the kitchen, a very clean -kitchen, and we made tea there and ate what we had brought in our -baskets. The Austrian girls had a room to themselves, I lent my rugs to -the young men and they made shift with them in the entrance porch, and -the best sitting-room was turned over to the women and children and me. -Two very small beds were put up very close together and into them -got the two women and three children, and I was accommodated with a -remarkably Lilliputian sofa. I am not a big woman, but it would not hold -me, and as for Buchanan, he looked at me in disgust, said a bed was a -proper place for a dog and promptly jumped on it. But it was full to -overflowing of women and children sleeping the sleep of the utterly -weary and he as promptly jumped off again and the next moment was -sitting up in front of my sofa with his little front paws hanging down. -He was a disgusted dog. He always begged when he wanted me to give him -something, and now he begged to show me he was really in need of a bed. -There were great uncurtained windows on two sides of that room, there -were flowers and ferns in pots growing in it, and the full moon strcamed -in and showed me everything: the crowded, rather gimcrack furniture, the -bucket that contained water for us to wash in in the morning, the bed -full of sleeping women and children and the little black and white dog -sitting up in protest against what he considered the discomforts of -the situation. What I found hard to bear were the hermetically sealed -windows--the women had been afraid of draughts for the children--so as -soon as that night wore through and daylight came stealing through the -windows I dressed quietly and, stepping across the sleeping young men at -the door, went outside with Buchanan to explore Finland. - -Our porter evidently ran some sort of tea gardens, for there were large -swings set up, swings that would hold four and six people at once, and -we tried them, much to Buchanan's discomfiture. We went for a walk up -the street, a country town street of little wooden houses set in little -gardens, and over all lay a Sabbath calm. It was Sunday, and the people -slept, and the autumn sunlight made the whole place glorious. There is -such rest and peace about the autumn: everything has been accomplished -and now is the fullness of time. I never know which season I like best, -each has its own beauty, but I shall always think of Finland as a land -of little things, charming little things bathed in the autumn sunlight. - -When the whole party were awake we found some difficulty in getting -something to eat. The porter could not supply us, and at the station, -where they were vigorously sweeping--the Finns are very clean--they -utterly declined to open the first-class refreshment-rooms. We could -only get something to eat in the third-class. There was a great feeling -of camaraderie and good-fellowship among us all, and here I remember the -lawyer's wife insisted upon us all having breakfast at her expense, for -according to her she owed us all something. It was she who added to our -party the Yiddish woman, a fat, square little person hung round with -innumerable bundles, carrying as she did a month's provisions, enough to -last her across to America, for she was a very strict Jew and could eat -nothing but _kosher_ killed meat and _kosher_ bread, whatever that may -be. I know it made her a care, for a month's provisions make something -of a parcel, and when bedding and a certain amount of clothing has to be -carried as well, and no porters are available, the resulting baggage -is apt to be a nuisance. All along the line this fat little person was -liable to come into view, toiling under the weight of her many bundles. -She would be found jammed in a doorway; she would subside exhausted in -the middle of a railway platform--the majority of her bundles would be -retrieved as they fell downstairs--or she blocked the little gateway -through which passengers were admitted one by one, and the resulting -bad language in all the tongues of Northern Europe probably caused the -Recording Angel a good deal of unnecessary trouble. But the Oxford -man and the musician were always ready to help her, and she must have -blessed the day the American lawyer's wife added her to a party which -had such kindly, helpful young men among its members. - -I found presently that the Oxford man and I were the moneyed members of -the party, the only ones who were paying our way; the others, far richer -people than I, I daresay, had been caught in the whirlpool of the war -and were being passed on from one American consul to another, unable -to get money from their own country. Apparently this was rather an -unpleasant process, meaning a certain scarcity of cash, as an American -consul naturally cannot afford to spend lavishly on his distressed -subjects. It was the irony of fate that some of them were evidently not -accustomed to looking too carefully after the pennies. - -It took us two days to cross Finland, and towards the end of the -journey, after we had got out to have tea at a wayside station that -blossomed out into ham and tea and bread and honey, we made friends with -a certain Finn whose father had been a Scotsman. At last we were able to -communicate with the people of the country! Also I'm afraid we told him -in no measured terms that we did not think much of his compatriots. -That was rather a shame, for he was exceedingly kind. He was going to -England, he told us, to buy sheepskins for the Russian army, and he took -great interest in my trouble about Buchanan. He examined him carefully, -came to the conclusion he was a perfectly healthy little dog and -suggested I should lend him to him till we reached Sweden, as he was -perfectly well known to the authorities, and Finnish dogs would be -allowed to enter Sweden, while a dog that had come from Russia would -certainly be barred. I loved that man for his kindly interest and I -handed over Buchanan in his basket without a qualm. - -We were really quite a goodly company when in the dusk of the evening -we steamed into Raumo. The station seemed deserted, but we didn't worry -much about that, as our new Finnish friend suggested the best thing to -do was to go straight down to the steamer, the _Uleaborg_, a Finnish -ship, and have our dinner and spend the night there. Even if she did not -go that night, and he did not think she would, we could rest and sleep -comfortably. We all agreed, and as the train went on down to the wharf -we appointed him our delegate to go on board and see what arrangements -he could make for us. The minute the train stopped, off he went, and -Buchanan went with him. I was getting easier in my mind about Buchanan -now, the thought of drugging him had been spoiling my pleasure in the -scenery. And then we waited. - -It began to rain, and through the mist which hid the moonlight to-night -we could see the loom of the ships; they were all white and the lights -from the cabin ports showed dim through the misty rain. The wharf was -littered with goods, barrels and bales, and as there was more than one -steamer, and apparently no one to guide us, or the Scots Finn had not -returned, we tackled the Russian _gens d'arme_ who seemed to be in -charge of the wharf and who was leaning up against the train. - -“Can you speak Finnish?” - -“Ah! now you have my secret first shot,” said he, with a smile. He, -their guardian, was no more equal to communicating with these people -than we were. And then, to our dismay, before our messenger could -return, the train which considered not a parcel of refugees put on steam -and started back to Raumo! - -A dozen voices were raised in frantic protest, but we might as well have -spared our breath, the train naturally paid no attention to us, but went -back at full speed to the town proper. It was a comfort when it stopped, -for, for all we knew, it might have gone straight back to Petrograd -itself. And Buchanan, shut up in a basket, was left behind, I knew not -where! They dumped us on that station, bag and baggage, in the rain. We -were worse off here than we were at the wharf, for there the steamer and -comfort at least loomed in the distance. Here was only a bare and empty -station, half-a-dozen men who looked at us as if we were so many wild -beasts on show, and a telephone to the wharf which we were allowed to -use as long as we pleased, but as far as I could gather the only result -was a flow of bad language in many tongues. We might be of many nations, -but one and all were we agreed in our dislike of the Finns and all -things Finnish. If I remember rightly, in the Middle Ages, most people -feared and disliked magicians. - -We managed to get our baggage into the hall of the station, whieh was -dimly lighted by electric lights, and in anticipation of our coming they -had filled up the station water-carafes. But that was all the provision -they had made. If there was a refreshment-room it had been locked up -long ago, and as far as we could make out, now our interpreter had gone, -there were no hotels or boarding-houses. Our Scots Finn had said it was -impossible to stay in Raumo. We looked at one another in a dismay in -which there was, after all, something comic. This that had befallen us -was the sort of aggravating thing a mischievous magician would cause -to happen. We were tired and hungry and bad-tempered, and I for one was -anxious about my little dog and I began to seek, with cash in my hand, -somebody who would find me Buchanan. - -How I made my wants known I don't now realise, but money does wonders, -and presently there came in a man bearing his basket and a rapturous -little dog was let out into the room. Where he had been I have not the -faintest idea, and I could not ask, only I gathered that the man who -brought him professed himself perfectly willing to go on fetching little -dogs all night at the same rate, and the musician remarked in his high -nasal twang that he supposed it was no good expecting any more sympathy -from Mrs Gaunt, she was content now she had her little dog. As a -matter of fact, now that my mind was at ease, I was equal to giving my -attention to other people's woes. - -We tackled the men round us. - -Where was our messenger? - -No one knew. - -Where could we get something to eat? - -Blank stare. They were not accustomed to foreigners yet at Raumo. The -station had only just been opened. The musician took out his violin -and its wailing tones went echoing and re-echoing through the hall. The -audience looked as if they thought we had suddenly gone mad, and one man -came forward and by signs told us we must leave the station. That was -all very well, we were not enamoured of the station, but the port we -judged to be at least four miles off, and no one was prepared to start -down an unknown road in the dark and pouring rain. There was a long -consultation, and we hoped it meant food, but it didn't. Out of a -wilderness of words we at last arrived at the interesting fact that if -we cared to subscribe five marks one of these gentlemen was prepared to -conduct us to the police station. There appeared to be no wild desire on -the part of any of us to go to the police station, the violin let out a -screech of scornful derision, and one of the officials promptly turned -off the electric lights and left us in darkness! - -There were many of us, and vexations shared are amusing. We laughed, -how we laughed, and the violin went wailing up and down the octaves. No -wonder the Finns looked at us askance. Even the darkness did not turn us -out, for we had nowhere else to go, and finally a man who spoke English -turned up, the agent for the Swedish steamer. He had thought there would -be no passengers and had gone to bed, to be roused up, I presume by the -stationmaster, as the only person likely to be capable of dealing with -these troublesome people who were disturbing the peace of this Finnish -village. - -We flew at him--there were about a dozen of us--and showed our tickets -for the Finnish steamer, and he smiled in a superior manner and said we -should be captured by Germans. - -We didn't believe much in the Germans, for we had many of us come -through a country which certainly believed itself invulnerable. Then -a woman travelling with her two daughters, Americans of the Americans, -though their mother spoke English with a most extraordinary accent, -proclaimed aloud that if there was a Swedish steamer she was going by it -as she was afraid of “dose Yarmans.” She and her daughters would give up -their tickets and go by the Swedish steamer. Protest was useless. If -we liked to break up the party we could. She was not going by the -_Uleaborg_. Besides, where were we to sleep that night? The Finnish -steamer was three or four miles away down at the wharf and we were here -along with the Swedish agent. - -The Swedish agent seized the opening thus given. There were no hotels; -there were no boarding-houses; no, it was not possible to get anything -to eat at that hour of the night. Something to drink? Well, in surprised -tones, there was surely plenty of water in the station--there was--and -he would arrange for a train for us to sleep in. The train at ten -o'clock next morning would take us down to the steamer. - -We retired to that train. Only one of the carriages was lighted, and -that by general consent we gave up to the lady whose fear of the Germans -had settled our affairs for us, and she in return asked us to share -what provisions we had left. We pooled our stores--I don't think I -had anything left, but the others shared with me--and we dined, not -unsatisfactorily, off sardines, black bread, sausages and apples. The -only person left out of the universal friendliness was the Yiddish lady. -Out of her plenty she did not offer to share. - -“She cannot,” said the musician. “She is saving for the voyage to -America. You see, she can eat none of the shipboard food.” He too came -of the same strict order of Jew, and his grandparents, with whom he -had been staying in Little Russia, had provided him with any amount of -sausage made of _kosher_ meat, but when he was away from his own people -he was evidently anything but strict and ate what pleased him. He shared -with the rest of us. Possibly he was right about the Yiddish woman, -and I suppose it did not really do us any harm to go short till next -morning, but it looked very greedy, and I still wonder at the nerve of -a woman who could sit down and eat sausage and bread and all manner -of such-like things while within a stone's-throw of her people who had -helped her in every way they could were cutting up apples and pears into -quarters and audibly wishing they had a little more bread. The Oxford -man and musician had always helped her, but she could not find it in her -heart to spare them one crumb. I admire her nerve. In America I doubt -not she will acquire wealth. - -After supper Buchanan and I retired to a dark carriage, wrapped -ourselves in my eiderdown and slept till with break of day two capable -but plain Finnish damsels came in to clean the train. I think the -sailors' ideas must have been wrong: every Finn cannot be a magician -else they would not allow all their women to be so plain. I arose and -dressed and prepared to go out and see if Raumo could produce coffee -and rolls, but as I was starting the violinist in the next compartment -protested. - -“I wouldn't. Guess you haven't got the hang of these Finnish trains. It -might take it into its head to go on. Can't you wait till we reach the -steamer.” - -I gave the matter my consideration, and while I was considering the -train did take it into its head to go on four hours before its appointed -time. On it went, and at last in the fresh northern dewy morning, with -the sun just newly risen, sending his long low rays streaming across the -dancing waters of the bay, we steamed up to the wharf, and there lay the -white ships that were bound for Sweden, the other side of the Baltic. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII--CAPTURED BY GERMANS - -But we couldn't get on the steamer at once. For some reason or other -there were Customs delays and everything we possessed had to be examined -before we were allowed to leave the country, but--and we hailed them -with delight--under the goods sheds were set out little tables where we -could buy coffee and rolls and butter and eggs. It was autumn now, and -for all the sunshine here in such high latitudes there was a nip in the -air and the hot coffee was welcome. We met, too, our friend of the night -before, the Scots Finn, but the glamour had departed from him and we -paid no attention to his suggestion that the _Goathied_, the Swedish -steamer, was very much smaller than the _Uleaborg_ and that there was -a wind getting up and we would all be deadly sick. We said we preferred -being sick to being captured by the Germans. And he laughed at us. There -was no need to fear the Germans in the Baltic so far north. - -It was midday before we were allowed on board the little white ship, -but still she lingered. I was weary, weary, even the waiting seemed a -weariness so anxious was I to end my long journeying and get home. And -then suddenly I felt very near it, for my ears were greeted by the good -broad Doric of Scotland, and there came trooping on board five and fifty -men, part of the crews of four English ships that had been caught by the -tide of war and laid up at Petrograd and Kronstadt. An opportunity had -been found and they were going back by way of Sweden, leaving their -ships behind till after the war. We did not think the war _could_ last -very long on board that steamer. - -The Scotsmen had evidently been expected, for on the deck in the bows -of the little steamer--she was only about three hundred tons--were laid -long tables spread with ample supplies of boiled sausages, suet pudding -and potatoes, and very appetising it looked, though in all my wanderings -I had never met boiled sausages before. Down to the feast sat the -sailor-men, and our Yiddish friend voiced aloud my feelings. - -“Anglisky,” said she unexpectedly, “nice Anglisky boys. Guten appetite, -nice Anglisky boys!” - -They were very cheery, poor boys, and though they were not accustomed to -her sort in Leith, they received her remarks with appreciative grins. - -As we started the captain came down upon me. - -“Who does that dog belong to?” he asked angrily. Everyone on board spoke -English. And before I could answer--I wasn't particularly anxious to -answer--he added: “He can't be landed in Sweden.” - -My heart sank. What would they do to my poor little dog? I was -determined they shouldn't harm him unless they harmed me first, and if -he had to go back to Russia--well, I would go too; but the thought of -going back made me very miserable, and I made solemn vows to myself -that if I by some miracle got through safely, never, never again would I -travel with a dog. - -And while I was thinking about it there came along a junior officer, -mate, purser, he might have been the cook for all I know, and he said: -“If you have bought this dog in Finland, or even on board the steamer, -he can land.” - -It was light in darkness, and I do not mind stating that where my dog is -concerned I have absolutely no morals, if it is to save him from -pain. He had been my close companion for over a year and I knew he was -perfectly healthy. - -“I will give you a good price for him,” said I. “He is a pretty little -dog.” - -“Wait,” he said, “wait. By and by I see.” - -Just as we got out of the bay the captain announced that he was not -going to Stockholm at all, but to Gefle, farther north. Why, he did not -know. Such were his orders. In ordinary times to find yourself being -landed at Liverpool, say, when you had booked for London might be -upsetting, but in war time it is all in the day's work, and sailors and -crowded passengers only laughed. - -“Let's awa',” said the sailors. “Let's awa'.” - -The air was clear and clean, clean as if every speck of dust had been -washed away by the rain of the preceding night; the little islands at -the mouth of the bay stood out green and fresh in the blue sea, but the -head wind broke it up into little waves, and the ship was empty of cargo -and tossed about like a cork. The blue sea and snow-white clouds, the -sunlight on the dancing waves mattered not to us; all we wanted, those -of us who were not in favour of drowning at once and so ending -our misery, was to land in Sweden. Buchanan sat up looking at me -reproachfully, then he too subsided and was violently sick, and I -watched the passengers go one by one below to hide their misery, even -those who had vowed they never were sea-sick. I stayed on deck because I -felt I was happier there in the fresh air, and so I watched the sunset. -It was a gorgeous sunset; the clouds piled themselves one upon the other -and the red sun stained them deepest crimson. It was so striking that I -forgot my sea-sick qualms. - -And then suddenly I became aware there were more ships upon the sea -than ours, one in particular, a black, low-lying craft, was steaming -all round us, sending out defiant hoots. There were three other ships -farther off, and I went to the rail to look over the darkening sea. - -Between us and the sunset was the low-lying craft, so close I could see -the gaiters of a man in uniform who stood on a platform a little higher -than his fellows; the little decks were crowded with men and a long gun -was pointed at us. It was all black, clean-cut, silhouetted against the -crimson sunset. - -We were slowed down, barely moving, the waves slop-slopped against our -sides, and the passengers came scrambling up. - -“Germans! Yarmans!” they cried, and from the torpedo boat came a voice -through a megaphone. - -“What are you doing with all those fine young men on board?” it asked in -excellent English, the language of the sea. - -The black torpedo boat was lying up against us. - -Sea-sickness was forgotten, and the violinist came to me. - -“They are going to take the young men,” he said, and he was sorry and -yet pleased, because all the time he had been full of the might of the -Germans. - -I thought of the Oxford man in the very prime of his manhood. - -“Have you told him?” - -“Guess I didn't dare,” said he. - -“Well, I think you'd better, or I'll go myself. They are going to search -the ship and he won't like being taken unawares.” - -So he went down, and presently they came up together. The Oxford man -had been very sea-sick and he thought all the row was caused by the ship -having struck a mine, and he felt so ill that if things were to end -that way he was accepting it calmly, but being captured by Germans was -a different matter. He was the only Englishman in the first class, and -when we heard they were coming for the young men we felt sure he would -have to go. - -Leaning over the rail of the _Goathied_, we could look down upon the -black decks of the torpedo boat, blacker than ever now in the dusk of -the evening, for the sun sank and the darkness was coming quickly. A -rope ladder was flung over and up came a couple of German officers. They -spoke perfect English, and they talked English all the time. They went -below, demanded the passenger list and studied it carefully. - -“We must take those Englishmen,” said the leader, and then he went -through every cabin to see that none was concealed. - -The captain made remonstrance, as much remonstrance as an unarmed -man can make with three cruisers looking on and a torpedo boat close -alongside. - -“It is war,” said the German curtly, and in the dusk he ranged the -sailor-men along the decks, all fifty-five of them, and picked out -those between the ages of nineteen and forty. Indeed one luckless lad of -seventeen was taken, but he was a strapping fellow and they said if he -was not twenty-one he looked it. - -It was tragic. Of course there must have been treachery at work or how -should the German squadron have known that the Englishmen were crossing -at this very hour? But a few moments before they had been counting -on getting home and now they were bound for a German prison! In the -gathering darkness they stood on the decks, and the short, choppy sea -beat the iron torpedo boat against the ship's side, and the captain -in the light from a lantern hung against the little house looked the -picture of despair. - -“She cannot stand it! She cannot stand it much longer!” - -Crash! Crash! Crash! - -“She cannot stand it! She was never built for it! And she is old now!” - -But the German paid no attention. The possible destruction of -a passenger ship was as nothing weighed in the balance with the -acquirement of six and thirty fighting men. - -They were so quiet. They handed letters and small bundles and sometimes -some of their pay to their comrades or to the passengers looking on and -they dropped down that ladder. No one but a sailor could have gone down, -for the ships heaved up and down, and sometimes they were bumping and -sometimes there was a wide belt of heaving dark water between them, -bridged only by that frail ladder. One by one they went, landing on the -hostile deck, and were greeted with what were manifestly jeers at their -misfortune. The getting down was difficult and more than once a bundle -was dropped into the sea and there went up a sigh that was like a wail, -for the passengers looking on thought the man was gone, and I do not -think there would have been any hope for him between the ships. - -Darker and darker it grew. On the _Goathied_ there were the lighted -decks, but below on the torpedo boat the men were dim figures, German -and English undiscernible in the gloom. On the horizon loomed the sombre -bulk of the cruisers, eaeh with a bright light aloft, and all around -was the heaving sea, the white tops of the choppy waves showing sinister -against the darker hollows. - -“Anglisky boys! Anglisky boys!” wailed the Yiddish woman, and her voice -cut into the waiting silence. It was their dirge, the dirge for the -long, long months of imprisonment that lay before them. And we were -hoping for a short war! I could hear the Oxford man drawing a long -breath occasionally, steeling himself against the moment when his turn -would come. - -It never came. Why, I do not know. Perhaps they did not realise his -nationality, for being a Scotsman he had entered himself as “British” on -the passenger list, and “British” was not such a well-known word as the -sons of Britain gathering from all corners of the earth to fight the -common foe have made it to-day. - -“Puir chappies! Puir chappies! A'm losin' guid comrades,” sighed an -elderly man leaning over the side and shouting a farewell to “Andra'.” - -I murmured something about “after the war,” but he cut me short sternly. -The general opinion was that they would be put to stoke German warships -and as the British were sure to beat them they would go down and be -ingloriously lost. The thought must have been a bitter one to the men on -that torpedo boat. And they took it like heroes. - -The last man was gone, and as the torpedo boat drew away a sort of -moan went up from the bereft passenger ship and we went on our way, the -captain relieved that we were free before a hole had been knocked in our -side. - -He was so thankful that no worse thing had befallen him that he became -quite communicative. - -“They are gone to take the _Uleaborg_,” he said, “and they will blow her -up and before to-morrow morning Raumo will be in flames!” - -In those days Sweden had great faith in the might of Germany. I hope -that faith is getting a little shaken at last. Still that captain -declared his intention of warning all the ships he could. There were two -Finnish ships of which he knew that he said were coming out of Stockholm -that night and he was going to look for them and warn them. - -And so the night was alive with brilliant electric light signals and -wild hootings from the steam siren, and he found them at last, all -honour to him for a kindly sailor-man, and the Finnish ships were warned -and went back to Sweden. - -But no matter how sorry one is for the sufferings of others, the feeling -does not in any way tend to lessen one's own private woes. Rather are -they deepened because sympathy and help is not so easily come by when -men's thoughts are occupied by more--to them more--important matters. -And so I could not go to sleep because of my anxiety about my little -dog. Only for the moment did the taking of the men and my pity for them -drive the thought of his predicament from my mind. - -We were nearing Sweden, every moment was bringing us closer, and as yet -I had made no arrangements for his safety. He lay curled up on the seat, -hiding his little snub nose and his little white paws with his bushy -tail, for the autumn night was chilly, and I lay fearing a prison for -him too, when he would think his mistress whom he had trusted had failed -him. All the crew were so excited over the kidnapping of the men that my -meditated nefarious transaction was thrust into the background. It was -hopeless to think that any one of them would give ear to the woes of -a little dog, so at last, very reluctantly, I gave him, much to his -surprise, a sulphonal tablet. I dozed a little and when by my watch it -was four o'clock Buchanan was as lively as a cricket. Sulphonal did not -seem to have affected him in any way. I gave him another, and he said it -was extremely nasty and he was surprised at my conduct, but otherwise it -made no difference to him. - -In the grey of the early morning we drew up to the wharf and were -told to get all our belongings on to the lower deck for the Customs to -examine them, and Buchanan was as cheerful and as wide awake as if he -had not swallowed two sulphonal tablets. With a sinking heart I gave him -another, put him in his basket and, carrying it down to the appointed -place, threw a rug over it and piled my two suit-cases on top of it. How -thankful I was there was such a noisy crowd, going over and over again -in many tongues the events of the night. They wrangled too about their -luggage and about their places, and above all their din I could hear -poor little James Buchanan whining and whimpering and asking why his -mistress was treating him so badly. - -Then came the Customs officer and my heart stood still. He poked an -investigatory hand into my suit-case and asked me--I understood him -quite well--to show him what was underneath. I could hear Buchanan if he -could not, and I pretended that I thought he wanted to know what was at -the bottom of my suit-case and I turned over the things again and again. -He grew impatient, but luckily so did all the people round, and as a -woman dragged him away by force to look at her things so that she could -get them ashore I noticed with immense relief that the sailors were -beginning to take the things to the wharf. Luckily I had taken care the -night before to get some Swedish money--I was taking no chances--and a -little palm oil made that sailor prompt to attend to my wants. Blessings -on the confusion that reigned around! Two minutes later on Swedish -soil I was piling my gear on a little hand-cart with a lot of luggage -belonging to the people with whom I had come across Finland and it was -bound to the railway station. - -“You have left your umbrella,” cried the violinist. - -“I don't care,” said I. I had lost my only remaining hat for that -matter, goodness knows what had become of it, but I was not going to put -myself within range of those Customs men again. What did I care about -appearances! I had passed the very worst milestone on my journey when I -got James Buchanan into Sweden; I had awakened from the nightmare that -had haunted me ever since I had taken my ticket in Petrograd, and I -breathed freely. - -At the railway station we left our luggage, but I got Buchanan's basket, -and we all went across the road to a restaurant just waking to business, -for we badly wanted breakfast. I loved those passengers. I shall always -think of them with gratitude. They were all so kind and sympathetic and -the restaurant folks, who were full of the seizing of the Englishmen on -a Swedish ship--so are joys and sorrows mingled--must have thought -we were a little mad when we all stood round and, before ordering -breakfast, opened a basket and let out a pretty little black and white -dog. - -And then I'm sorry to say we laughed, even I laughed, laughed with -relief, though I there and then took a vow never again to drug a dog, -for poor little James Buchanan was drunk. He wobbled as he walked, and -he could not make up his mind to lie down like a sensible dog and sleep -if off; he was conversational and silly and had to be restrained. Poor -little James Buchanan! But he was a Swedish dog, and I ate my breakfast -with appetite, and we all speculated as to what had become of the Scots -Finn who had failed me. - -Gefle reminded me of Hans Andersen even more than Finland had done. It -had neat streets and neat houses and neat trees and neat and fair-haired -women, and Gefle was seething with excitement because the _Goathied_ -had been stopped. It was early days then, and Sweden had not become -accustomed to the filibustering ways of the German, so every poster had -the tale writ large upon it, in every place they were talking about it, -and we, the passengers who walked about the streets, were the observed -of all observers. - -I was nearing the end of my long journey, very near now, and it did not -seem to me to matter much what I did. We were all--the new friends I had -made on the way from Petrograd--pretty untidy and travel-stained, and -if I wore a lace veil on my hair, the violinist had a huge rent in his -shoe, and, having no money to buy more, he went into a shoe-shop and had -it mended. I, with Buchanan a little recovered, sat beside him while it -was done. - -And in the afternoon we went by train through the neat and tidy country, -Selma Lagerlof's country, to Stockholm. I felt as if I were resting, -rested, because I was anxious no longer about Buchanan, who slumbered -peacefully on my knee; and if anybody thinks I am making an absurd fuss -about a little dog, let them remember he had been my faithful companion -and friend in far corners of the earth when there were none but -alien faces around me, and had stood many a time between me and utter -loneliness and depression. - -We discussed these sturdy Swedes. The Chicago woman's daughter, with the -pertness and aptness of the American flapper, summed them up quickly. - -“The men are handsome,” she said, looking round, “but the women--well, -the women lack something--I call them tame.” - -And I knew she had hit them off to a “T.” After that I never looked at -a neat and tidy Swedish woman with her hair, that was fair without that -touch of red that makes for gold--gives life--coiled at the back of -her head and her mild eyes looking out placidly on the world around her -without feeling that I too call her tame. - -Stockholm for the most of us was the parting of the ways. The American -consul took charge of the people who had come across Finland with us -and the Oxford man and I alone went to the Continental Hotel, which, I -believe, is the best hotel in that city. We had an evening meal together -in a room that reminded me very much of the sort of places we used to -call coffee palaces in Melbourne when I was a girl, and I met here again -for the first time for many a long day tea served in cups with milk and -cream. It was excellent, and I felt I was indeed nearing home. Things -were getting commonplace and the adventure was going out of life. But I -was tired and I didn't want adventure any more. There comes a time when -we have a surfeit of it. - -I remember my sister once writing from her home somewhere in the Malay -jungle that her husband was away and it was awkward because every night -a leopard came and took up his position under the house, and though she -believed he was only after the fowls she didn't like it because of the -children. If ever she complains that she hasn't had enough adventure -in her life I remind her of that and she says that is not the sort of -adventure she has craved. That is always the way. The adventure is -not always in the form we want. I seemed to have had plenty, but I was -weary. I wanted to sit in a comfortable English garden in the autumn -sunshine and forget that such things as trains and ships--perish the -thought of a mule litter--existed. I counted the hours. It couldn't be -long now. We came down into the hall to find that I had been entered on -the board containing the names of the hotel guests as the Oxford man's -wife. Poor young man! It was a little rough on him, for I hadn't even a -hat, and I felt I looked dilapidated. - -I was too. That night in the sleeper crossing to Christiania the woman -who had the bottom berth spoke excellent English. She was going to some -baths and she gave some advice. - -“You are very ill, Madame,” said she, “very ill.” - -I said no, I was only a little tired. - -“I think,” she went on, “you are very ill, and if you are wise when you -get to Christiania you will go to the Hotel Victoria and go to bed.” - -I was horrified. Because I felt I must go to England as quickly as -possible, and I said so. - -“The train does not go to Bergen till night,” said she. “Stay in bed all -day.” And then as we crossed the border a Customs officer came into the -carriage. Now I could easily have hidden Buchanan, but I thought as -a Swedish dog all his troubles were over, and he sat up there looking -pertly at the uniformed man and saying “What are you doing here?” - -“Have you got a certificate of health for that dog?” asked the man -sternly. - -I said “No,” remembering how very carefully I had kept him out of the -way of anybody likely to be interested in his health. - -“Then,” said he, “you must telegraph to the police at Christiania. They -will meet you and take him to a veterinary surgeon.” - -“And after?” I asked, trembling, my Swedish friend translating. - -“If his health is good they give him back to you. You take a room at -a hotel and if his health is good he will be allowed to skip about the -streets.” - -I felt pretty sure he would be allowed to skip about the streets and -I took a room at the Victoria, the Oxford man kindly seeing us -through--they put us down as Mr and Mrs Gaunt here--and James Buchanan, -who had been taken possession of by the police at the station, came back -to me, accompanied by a Norwegian policeman who demanded five shillings -and gave me a certificate that he was a perfectly healthy little dog. - -I want to go back to Norway when I am not tired and fed up with -travelling, for Christiania struck me as a dear little home-like town -that one could love; and the railway journey across the Dovrefield and -even the breakfast baskets that came in in the early morning were things -to be remembered. I saw snow up in those mountains, whether the first -snow of the coming winter or snow left over from the winter before, I -do not know, but the views were lovely, and I asked myself why I went -wandering in far-away places when there were places like this so close -at home and so easily reached. So near home. We were so near home. I -could think of nothing else. I told Buchanan about it and he licked my -hand sympathetically and told me always to remember that wherever I was -was good enough for him. And then we arrived at Bergen, a little wooden -city set at the head of a fiord among the hills, and we went on board -the _Haakon VII._, bound for Newcastle-on-Tyne. - -And then the most memorable thing happened, the most memorable thing -in what for me was a wondrous journey. All across the Old World we had -come, almost from the very farthest corner of the Old World, a wonderful -journey not to be lightly undertaken nor soon forgotten. And yet as I -went on board that ship I felt what a very little thing it was. I have -been feeling it ever since. A Norwegian who spoke good English was -there, going back to London, and, talking to another man, he mentioned -in a casual manner something about the English contingent that had -landed on the Continent. - -It startled me. Not in my lifetime, nor in the lifetime of my father, -indeed I think my grandfathers must have been very little boys when the -last English troops landed in France. - -“English troops!” I cried in astonishment. - -The Norwegian turned to me, smiling. - -“Yes,” he said. “But of course they are only evidence of good will. -Their use is negligible!” - -And I agreed. I actually agreed. Britain's rôle, it seemed to me, was on -the sea! - -And in four years I have seen Britain grow into a mighty military power. -I have seen the men of my own people come crowding across the ocean to -help the Motherland; I have seen my sister's young son pleased to be a -soldier in that army, just one of the proud and humble crowd that go to -uphold Britain's might. And all this has grown since I stood there at -the head of the Norwegian fiord with the western sun sparkling on the -little wavelets and heard a friendly foreigner talk about the little -army that was “negligible.” - -I was tired. I envied those who could work and exert themselves, but I -could do nothing. If the future of the nation had depended on me I could -have done nothing. I was coming back to strenuous times and I longed -for rest. I wanted a house of my own; I wanted a seat in the garden; I -wanted to see the flowers grow, to listen to the birds singing in the -trees. All that our men are fighting for to keep sacred and safe, I -longed for. - -And I have had it, thanks to those fighting men who have sacrificed -themselves for me, I have had it. It is good to sit in the garden -where the faithful little friend I shall never forget has his last -resting-place; it is good to see the roses grow, to listen to the lark -and the cuckoo and the thrush; but there is something in our race that -cannot keep still for long, the something, I suppose, that sent my -grandfather to the sea, my father to Australia, and scattered his sons -and daughters all over the world. I had a letter from a soldier brother -the other day. The war holds him, of course, but nevertheless he wrote, -quoting: - - “Salt with desire of travel - - Are my lips; and the wind's wild singing - - Lifts my heart to the ocean - - And the sight of the great ships swinging.” - - -And my heart echoed: “And I too! 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: A Broken Journey, Illustrated - Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho Yo the Island of Saghalien - and the Upper Reaches of The Amur River - -Author: Mary Gaunt - -Release Date: March 21, 2017 [EBook #54402] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN JOURNEY, ILLUSTRATED *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - A BROKEN JOURNEY - </h1> - <h3> - Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho yo the Island of Saghalien and the Upper - Reaches of The Amur River - </h3> - <h2> - By Mary Gaunt - </h2> - <h3> - Author Of “Alone In West Africa” “A Woman In China,” Etc. - </h3> - <h4> - London - </h4> - <h4> - T. Werner Laurie Ltd. - </h4> - <h3> - 1919 - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0008.jpg" alt="0008 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0008.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <h3> - TO MY - </h3> - <h3> - SISTER AND BROTHERS - </h3> - <h3> - IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE DAYS BEFORE WE - </h3> - <h3> - WANDERED - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_FORE"> FOREWORD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> A BROKEN JOURNEY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—TRUCULENT T'AI YUAN FU </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—THE FIRST SIGN OF UNREST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—A CITY UNDER THE HILLS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—“MISERERE DOMINE!” </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—BY MOUNTAIN AND RIVER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—CHINA'S SORROW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—LAST DAYS IN CHINA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—KHARBIN AND VLADIVOSTOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREAT RIVERS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—THE ENDS OF THE EARTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—FACING WEST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—THE UPPER REACHES OF THE AMUR - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—MOBILISING IN EASTERN SIBERIA - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV—ON A RUSSIAN MILITARY TRAIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI—THE WAYS OF THE FINNS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII—CAPTURED BY GERMANS </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_FORE" id="link2H_FORE"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - FOREWORD - </h2> - <p> - I have to thank my friend Mrs Lang for the drastic criticism which once - more has materially helped me to write this book. Other people also have I - to thank, but so great was the kindness I received everywhere I can only - hope each one will see in this book some token of my sincere gratitude. - </p> - <p> - Mary Gaunt. - </p> - <p> - Mary Haven, New Eltham, Kent. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - A BROKEN JOURNEY - </h1> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>ach time I begin a - book of travel I search for the reasons that sent me awandering. - Foolishness, for I ought to know by this time the wander fever was born in - my blood; it is in the blood of my sister and brothers. We were brought up - in an inland town in Victoria, Australia, and the years have seen us - roaming all over the world. I do not think any of us has been nearer the - North Pole than Petropaulovski, or to the South Pole than Cape Horn—children - of a sub-tropical clime, we do not like the cold—but in many - countries in between have we wandered. The sailors by virtue of their - profession have had the greater opportunities, but the other five have - made a very good second best of it, and always there has been among us a - very understanding sympathy 'with the desire that is planted in each and - all to visit the remote corners of the earth. - </p> - <p> - Anybody can go on the beaten track. It only requires money to take a - railway or steamer ticket, and though we by no means despise comfort—indeed, - because we know something of the difficulties that beset the traveller - beyond the bounds of civilisation, we appreciate it the more highly—still - there is something else beyond comfort in life. Wherein lies the call of - the Unknown? To have done something that no one else has done—or - only accomplished with difficulty? Where lies the charm? I cannot put it - into words—only it is there, the “something calling—beyond the - mountains,” the “Come and find me” of Kipling. That voice every one of the - Gaunts hears, and we all sympathise when another one goes. - </p> - <p> - And that voice I heard loudly in China. - </p> - <p> - “Come and find me! Come and find me!” - </p> - <p> - The livelong day I heard it, and again and again and yet again I tried to - stifle it, for you who have read my <i>Woman in China</i> will know that - travelling there leaves much to be desired. To say it is uncomfortable is - to put it in the mildest terms. Everything that I particularly dislike in - life have I met travelling in China; everything that repells me; and yet, - having unwisely invested $10 (about £1) in an atlas of China, the voice - began to ring in my ears day and night. - </p> - <p> - I was living in an American Presbyterian mission station in the western - suburb of the walled town of Pao Ting Fu, just beyond European influence, - the influence of the Treaty Ports and the Legation quarter of Peking. I - wanted to see something of the real China, to get material for a novel—not - a novel concerning the Chinese; for I have observed that no successful - novel in English deals with anybody but the British or the Americans; the - other peoples come in as subordinates—and the local colour was best - got on the spot. There was plenty in Pao Ting Fu, goodness knows. It had - suffered severely in the Boxer trouble. In the northern suburb, just about - a mile from where we lived, was a tomb, or monument rather, that had been - raised to the missionaries massacred then. They have made a garden plot - where those burning houses stood, they have planted trees and flowers, and - set up memorial tablets in the Chinese style, and the mission has moved to - the western suburb, just under the frowning walls of the town, and—is - doubly strong. A God-given fervour, say the missionaries, sends them - forth.'Who am I to judge? But I see that same desire to go forth in - myself, that same disregard of danger, when it is not immediate—I - know I should be horribly scared if it materialised—and I cannot - claim for myself it is God-given, save perhaps that all our desires are - God-given. - </p> - <p> - So there in the comfortable mission station I studied the local colour, - corrected my last book of China, and instead of planning the novel, looked - daily at the atlas of China, till there grew up in me a desire to cross - Asia, not by train to the north as I had already done, as thousands of - people used to do every year, but by the caravan route, across Shensi and - Kansu and Sinkiang to Andijan in Asiatic Russia, the terminus of the - Caspian Railway. Thousands and thousands of people go slowly along that - way too, but the majority do not go all the way, and they do not belong to - the class or nation whose comings and goings are recorded. In fact, you - may count on the fingers of one hand the people who know anything of that - road. The missionaries, particularly the womenkind, did not take very - cheerful view's about it. - </p> - <p> - “If I wanted to die,” said one woman, meeting me as I was going round the - compound one day in the early spring of 1914, “I would choose some easier - way.” - </p> - <p> - But the doctor there was keenly interested. He would have liked to have - gone himself, but his duty kept him alongside his patients and his - hospital in Pao Ting Fu, and though he pulled himself up every now and - then, remembering I was only a woman and probably couldn't do it, he could - not but take as great an interest in that map and ways and means as I did - myself. Then there was Mr Long, a professor at the big Chinese college in - the northern suburb—he was young and enthusiastic and as interested - as Dr Lewis. - </p> - <p> - He too knew something about travel in unknown China, for he had been one - of the band of white men who had made their way over the mountains of - Shansi and Shensi in the depths of winter to go to the rescue of the - missionaries in Sui Te Chou and all the little towns down to Hsi An Fu at - the time of the Revolution. Yes, he knew something of the difficulties of - Chinese travel, and he thought I could do it. - </p> - <p> - “The only danger would be robbers, and—well, you know, there - mightn't be robbers.” - </p> - <p> - But Peking—the Peking of the Legations—that, I knew, held - different view's. I wrote to an influential man who had been in China over - ten years, who spoke the language well, and he was against it. - </p> - <p> - “I was very much interested” (wrote he) “to read of your intention to do - that trek across country. You ask my opinion about it, but I can only give - you the same advice that <i>Punch</i> gave many years ago, and that is, <i>don't</i>. - You must realise that the travelling will be absolutely awful and the cost - is very great indeed. You have not yet forgotten your trip to Jehol, I - hope, and the roughness of the road. The trip you contemplate will make - the little journey to Jehol look like a Sunday morning walk in Hyde Park, - particularly as regards travelling comfort, to say nothing about the - danger of the journey as regards hostile tribes on the southern and - western borders of Tibet. You will be passing near the Lolo country, and I - can assure you that the Lolos are <i>not</i> a set of gentlemen within the - meaning of the Act. They are distinctly hostile to foreigners, and many - murders have taken place in their country that have not been published - because of the inability of the Chinese troops to stand up against these - people. What the peoples are like farther north I do not know, but I - understand the Tibetans are not particularly trustworthy, and it will - follow that the people living on their borders will inherit a good many of - their vices and few of their virtues. - </p> - <p> - “If you have really made up your mind to go, however, just let me know, - and I will endeavour to hunt up all the information that it is possible to - collect as to the best route to take, etc., though I repeat I would not - advise the journey, and the Geographical Society can go to the deuce.” - </p> - <p> - This not because he despised the Geographical Society by any means, but - because I had advanced as one reason for going across Asia the desire to - win my spurs so and be an acceptable member. - </p> - <p> - “My dear,” wrote a woman, “think of that poor young Brooke. The Tibetans - cut his throat with a sharp stone, which is a pleasant little way they - have.” - </p> - <p> - Now the man's opinion was worth having, but the woman's is a specimen of - the loose way people are apt to reason—I do it myself—when - they deal with the unknown. The “poor young Brooke” never went near Tibet, - and was murdered about a thousand miles distant from the route I intended - to take. It was something as if a traveller bound to the Hebrides was - warned against dangers to be met upon the Rhone. - </p> - <p> - One man who had travelled extensively in Mongolia was strongly against the - journey, but declared that “Purdom knew a great deal more about travelling - in China” than he did, and if “Purdom” said I might got—well then, I - might. Mr Purdom and Mr Reginald Farrer were going west to the borders of - Tibet botanising, and one night I dined with them, and Mr Purdom was - optimistic and declared if I was prepared for discomfort and perhaps - hardship he thought I might go. - </p> - <p> - So it was decided, and thereupon those who knew took me in hand and gave - me all advice about travelling in China, how to minimise discomfort, what - to take and what to leave behind. One thing they were all agreed upon. The - Chinese, as a rule, are the most peaceable people upon earth, the only - thing I had to fear was a chance band of robbers, and if I fell into their - hands—well, it would probably be finish. - </p> - <p> - “The Chinese are fiendishly cruel,” said my friend of Mongolian travel; - “keep your last cartridge for yourself.” - </p> - <p> - I intimated that a pistol was quite beyond me, that that way of going out - did not appeal to me, and anyhow I'd be sure to bungle it. - </p> - <p> - “Then have something made up at the chemist's and keep it always on your - person. You do not know how desperately you may need it.” - </p> - <p> - I may say here that these remarks made no impression upon me whatever. I - suppose in most of us the feeling is strong that nothing bad could - possibly happen. It happens to other people, we know, but to us—impossible! - I have often wondered how near I could get to danger without feeling that - it really threatened—pretty close, I suspect. It is probably a - matter of experience. I cannot cross a London road with equanimity—but - then twice have I been knocked down and rather badly hurt—but I - gaily essayed to cross Asia by way of China, and would quite certainly as - gaily try again did I get the chance. Only next time I propose to take a - good cook. - </p> - <p> - To some, of course, the unknown is always full of danger. - </p> - <p> - The folks who walked about Peking without a qualm warned me I would die of - indigestion, I would be unable to drink the water, the filth would be - unspeakable, hydrophobia raged, and “when you are bitten, promptly cut - deep into the place and insert a chloride of mercury tabloid.” - </p> - <p> - That last warning made me laugh. It reminded me of the time when as a - little girl, living in a country where deadly snakes swarmed—my - eldest brother killed sixty in a week, I remember, in our garden—I - used to think it would be extremely dangerous to go to Europe because - there were there mad dogs, things we never had in Australia! I think it - was the reference to hydrophobia and the chloride of mercury tabloid - helped me to put things in their proper prospective and made me realise - that I was setting out on a difficult journey with a possible danger of - robbers; but a possible danger is the thing we risk every day we travel in - a railway train or on an electric tramcar. I am always ready for possible - risks, it is when they become probable I bar them, so I set about my - preparations with a quiet mind. - </p> - <p> - A servant. I decided I must have a tall servant and strong, because so - often in China I found I had to be lifted, and I had suffered from having - too small a man on my former journeys. The missionaries provided me with a - new convert of theirs, a tall strapping Northern Chinaman, who was a mason - by trade. Tsai Chih Fu, we called him—that is to say, he came of the - Tsai family; and the Chih Fu—I'm by no means sure that I spell it - right—meant a “master workman.” He belonged to a large firm of - masons, but as he had never made a dollar a day at his trade, my offer of - that sum put him at my service, ready to go out into the unknown. He was a - fine-looking man, dignified and courteous, and I had and have the greatest - respect for him. He could not read or write, of course. Now a man who - cannot read or write here in the West we look upon with contempt, but it - would be impossible to look upon Tsai Chih Fu with contempt. He was a - responsible person, a man who would count in any company. He belonged to - another era and another civilisation, but he was a man of weight. A master - of transport in Babylon probably closely resembled my servant Tsai Chih - Fu. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0027.jpg" alt="0027 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0027.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - My interpreter, Wang Hsien—that is, Mr Wang—was of quite a - different order. He was little and slight, with long artistic hands, of - the incapable artistic order, and he was a fool in any language; but good - interpreters are exceedingly difficult to get. He used to come and see me - every day for a fortnight before we started, and I must say my heart sank - when the simplest remark, probably a greeting, or a statement as to the - weather, was met with a “Repeat, please.” I found this was the invariable - formula and it was not conducive to brisk conversation. On my way through - the country things were apt to vanish before I had made Mr Wang understand - that I was asking, and was really in search of, information. He had his - black hair cut short in the progressive foreign fashion (it looked as if - he had had a basin put on his head—a good large one—and the - hair snipped off round), and he wore a long blue cotton gown buttoned to - his feet. Always he spoke with a silly giggle. Could I have chosen, which - I could not, he would have been about the very last man I should have - taken on a strenuous journey as guide, philosopher and friend. - </p> - <p> - And there was another member of the party, a most important member, - without whom I should not have dreamt of stirring—my little black - and white k'ang dog, James Buehanan, who loved me as no one in the world - has ever loved me, thought everything I did was perfect, and declared he - was willing to go with me to the ends of the earth. - </p> - <p> - So I began my preparations. One thing only was clear, everyone was agreed - upon it, all my goods must be packed in canvas bags, because it is - impossible to travel by mule, or cart, or litter with one's clothes in - ordinary boxes. And I had, through the kindness of Messrs Forbes & - Company, to make arrangements with Chinese bankers, who have probably been - making the same arrangements since before the dawn of history, to get - money along the proposed route. These things I managed satisfactorily; it - was over the stores that, as usual, I made mistakes. The fact of the - matter is that the experience gained in one country is not always useful - for the next. When first I travelled in Africa I took many “chop” boxes - that were weighty and expensive of transport, and contained much tinned - meat that in a warm, moist climate I did not want. I found I could live - quite happily on biscuits and fruit and eggs, with such relishes as - anchovy paste or a few Bologna sausages for a change. My expensive tinned - foods I bestowed upon my servants and carriers, greatly to my own regret. - I went travelling in China, in Northern Chihli and Inner Mongolia, I dwelt - apart from all foreigners in a temple in the western hills, and I found - with a good cook I lived very comfortably off the country, with just the - addition of a few biscuits, tea, condensed milk, coffee and raisins, - therefore I persuaded myself I could go west with few stores and do - exactly the same. Thus I added considerably to my own discomfort. The - excellent master of transport was a bad cook, and a simple diet of - hard-boiled eggs, puffed rice and tea, with raisins for dessert, however - good in itself, is apt to pall when it is served up three times a day for - weeks with unfailing regularity. - </p> - <p> - However, I didn't know that at the time. - </p> - <p> - And at last all was ready. I had written to all the mission stations as - far west as Tihwa, in Sinkiang, announcing my coming. I had provided - myself with a folding table and chair—they both, I found, were given - to fold at inconvenient moments—some enamel plates, a couple of - glasses, a knife and fork, rudimentary kitchen utensils, bedding, - cushions, rugs, etc., and all was ready. I was to start the next week, ten - days after Mr Purdom and Mr Farrer had set out, for Honan, when there came - a telegram from Hsi An Fu: - </p> - <p> - “Delay journey” (it read). - </p> - <p> - “White wolf in Shensi. Shorrocks.” - </p> - <p> - Was there ever such country? News that a robber was holding up the road - could be sent by telegram! - </p> - <p> - China rather specialises in robbers, but White Wolf was considerably worse - than the average gentleman of the road. He defied the Government in 1914, - but the last time we of the mission station had heard of him he was making - things pleasant for the peaceful inhabitants of Anhwei, to the east, and - the troops were said to have him “well in hand.” But in China you never - know exactly where you are, and now he was in Shensi! - </p> - <p> - I read that telegram in the pleasant March sunshine. I looked up at the - boughs of the “water chestnuts,” where the buds were beginning to swell, - and I wondered what on earth I should do. The roads now were as good as - they were ever likely to be, hard after the long winter and not yet broken - up by the summer rains. We discussed the matter from all points that day - at the midday dinner. The missionaries had a splendid cook, a Chinese who - had had his kitchen education finished in a French family, and with a few - good American recipes thrown in the combination makes a craftsman fit for - the Savoy, and all for ten Mexican dollars a month! Never again do I - expect to meet such salads, sweet and savoury! And here was I doing my - best to leave the flesh-pots of Egypt. It seemed foolish. - </p> - <p> - I contented my soul with what patience I might for a week, and then I - telegraphed to Honan Fu, at which place I expected to be well away from - the railway. Honan Fu answered promptly: - </p> - <p> - “The case is hopeless. Hsi An Fu threatened. Advise you go by T'ai Yuan - Fu.” - </p> - <p> - Now the road from Honan Fu to Hsi An Fu is always dangerous. It is through - the loess, sunken many feet below the level of the surrounding country, - and at the best of times is infested with stray robbers who, from the - cliffs above, roll down missiles on the carts beneath, kill the mules and - hold the travellers at their mercy. The carters go in large bodies and are - always careful to find themselves safe in the inn-yards before the dusk - has fallen. - </p> - <p> - These were the everyday dangers of the way such as men have faced for - thousands of years; if you add to them an organised robber band and a - large body of soldiers in pursuit, clearly that road is no place for a - solitary foreign woman, with only a couple of attendants, a little dog, - and for all arms a small pistol and exactly thirteen cartridges—all - I could get, for it is difficult to buy ammunition in China. Then to - clinch matters came another telegram from Hsi An Fu, in cipher this time: - </p> - <p> - “Do not come” (it said). - </p> - <p> - “The country is very much disturbed.” - </p> - <p> - From Anhwei to Shensi the brigands had operated. They had burned and - looted and outraged by order of Pai Lang (White Wolf), leaving behind them - ruined homes and desolated hearths, and when the soldiers came after them, - so said Rumour of the many tongues, White Wolf, who was rich by then, left - money on the roads and so bribed the avenging army to come over to him. - </p> - <p> - But to the ordinary peaceful inhabitant—and curiously enough the - ordinary Chinese is extremely peaceful—it is not a matter of much - moment whether it be Pai Lang or the soldier who is hunting him who falls - upon the country. The inhabitants are sure to suffer. Both bandit and - soldier must have food, so both loot and outrage impartially, for the - unpaid soldiery—I hope I shall not be sued for libel, but most of - the soldiery when I was in China appeared to be unpaid—loot just as - readily as do the professional bandits. A robber band alone is a heavy - load for a community to carry, and a robber band pursued by soldiers more - than doubles the burden. - </p> - <p> - Still the soldiers held Tungkwan, the gate into Shensi, the mountains on - either side blocked the way, and Hsi An Fu breathed for a moment till it - was discovered that Pai Lang in strategy was equal to anyone who had been - sent against him. He had taken the old and difficult route through the - mountains and had come out west of the narrow pass of Tungkwan and, when I - became interested in him, was within a day's march of Hsi An Fu, the town - that is the capital of the province of Shensi and was the capital of China - many hundreds of years ago. It is a walled city, but the people feared and - so did the members of the English Baptist Mission sheltering behind those - walls. And, naturally, they feared, for the Society of the Elder Brethren - had joined Pai Lang, and the Society of Elder Brethren always has been and - is markedly anti-foreign. This was the situation, growing daily a little - worse, and we foreigners looked on; and the Government organs in Peking - told one day how a certain Tao Tai had been punished and degraded because - he had been slack in putting down White Wolf and possibly the next day - declared the power of White Wolf was broken and he was in full retreat. I - don't know how many times I read the power of White Wolf had been broken - and yet in the end I was regretfully obliged to acknowledge that he was - stronger than ever. Certainly Pai Lang turned my face north sooner than I - intended, for the idea of being a target for rocks and stones and billets - of wood at the bottom of a deep ditch from which there could be no escape - did not commend itself to me. True, in loess country, as I afterwards - found, there are no stones, no rocks and no wood. I can't speak for the - road through Tungkwan, for I didn't dare it. But, even if there were no - stones, loose earth—and there is an unlimited quantity of that - commodity in Northern China—flung down from a height would be - exceedingly unpleasant. - </p> - <p> - Of course it all might have been rumour—it wasn't, I found out - afterwards; but unfortunately the only way to find out at the time was by - going to see for myself, and if it had been true—well, in all - probability I shouldn't have come back. That missionary evidently realised - how keen I was when he suggested that I should go by T'ai Yuan Fu, the - capital of Shansi, and I determined to take his advice. There was a way, a - little-known way, across the mountains, across Shansi, by Sui Te Chou in - Shensi, and thence into Kansu, which would eventually land me in Lan Chou - Fu if I cared to risk it. - </p> - <p> - This time I asked Mr Long's advice. He and the little band of nine - rescuers who had ridden hot haste to the aid of the Shensi missionaries - during the revolution had taken this road, and they had gone in the depths - of winter when the country was frozen hard and the thermometer was more - often below zero, very far below zero, than not. If they had accomplished - it when pressed for time in the great cold, I thought' in all probability - I might manage it now at the best time of the year and at my leisure. Mr - Long, who would have liked to have gone himself, thought so too, and - eventually I set off. - </p> - <p> - The missionaries were goodness itself to me. Dr Mackay, in charge of the - Women's Hospital, set me up with all sorts of simple drugs that I might - require and that I could manage, and one day in the springtime, when the - buds on the trees in the compound were just about to burst, and full of - the promise of the life that was coming, I, with most of the missionaries - to wish me “Godspeed,” and with James Buchanan under my arm, my giggling - interpreter and my master of transport following with my gear, took train - to T'ai Yuan Fu, a walled city that is set in the heart of a fertile - plateau surrounded by mountains. - </p> - <p> - The great adventure had begun. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—TRUCULENT T'AI YUAN FU - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ut you mayn't go - to T'ai Yuan Fu in one day. The southern train puts you down at Shih Chia - Chuang—the village of the Stone Family—and there you must stay - till 7.40 a.m. next morning, when the French railway built through the - mountains that divide Shansi from Shensi takes you on to its terminus at - T'ai Yuan Fu. There is a little Chinese inn at Shih Chia Chuang that by - this time has become accustomed to catering for the foreigner, but those - who are wise beg the hospitality of the British American Tobacco Company. - </p> - <p> - I craved that hospitality, and two kindly young men came to the station - through a dust-storm to meet me and took me off to their house that, - whether it was intended to or not, with great cool stone balconies, looked - like a fort. But they lived on perfectly friendly terms with people. Why - not? To a great number of the missionaries the B.A.T. is <i>anathema - maranatha</i>, though many of the members rival in pluck and endurance the - missionaries themselves. And why is it a crime for a man or a woman to - smoke? Many of the new teachers make it so and thus lay an added burden on - shoulders already heavily weighted. Personally I should encourage smoking, - because it is the one thing people who are far apart as the Poles might - have in common. - </p> - <p> - And goodness knows they have so few things. Even with the animals the - “East is East and West is West” feeling is most marked. Here at the B.A.T. - they had a small pekinese as a pet. She made a friend of James Buchanan in - a high and haughty manner, but she declined to accompany him outside the - premises. Once she had been stolen and had spent over three months in a - Chinese house. Then one day her master saw her and, making good his claim, - took her home with him. Since that time nothing would induce her to go - beyond the front door. She said in effect that she got all the exercise - she needed in the courtyard, and if it did spoil her figure, she preferred - a little weight to risking the tender mercies of a Chinese household, and - I'm sure she told Buchanan, who, having the sacred V-shaped mark on his - forehead, was reckoned very beautiful and was much admired by the Chinese, - that he had better take care and not fall into alien hands. Buchanan as a - puppy of two months old had been bought in the streets of Peking, and when - we started on our journey must have been nearly ten months old, but he had - entirely forgotten his origin and regarded all Chinese with suspicion. He - tolerated the master of transport as a follower of whom we had need. - </p> - <p> - “Small dog,” Mr Wang called him, and looked upon him doubtfully, but - really not as doubtfully as Buchanan looked at him. He was a peaceful, - friendly little dog, but I always thought he did not bite Mr Wang simply - because he despised him so. - </p> - <p> - Those two young men were more than good to me. They gave me refreshment, - plenty of hot water to wash away the ravages of the dust-storm, and good - company, and as we sat and talked—of White Wolf, of course—there - came to us the tragedy of a life, a woman who had not the instincts of - Buchanan. - </p> - <p> - Foreign women are scarce at Shih Chia Chuang; one a month is something to - remark upon, one a week is a crowd, so that when, as we sat in the big - sitting-room talking, the door opened and a foreign woman stood there, - everyone rose to his feet in astonishment. Mr Long, who had been up the - line, stood beside her, and behind her was a Chinaman with a half-caste - baby in his arms. She was young and tall and rather pretty. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0037.jpg" alt="0037 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0037.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0038.jpg" alt="0038 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0038.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “I bring you a lady in distress,” said Mr Long rather hastily, explaining - matters. “I met Mrs Chang on the train. She has miscalculated her - resources and has not left herself enough money to get to Peking.” - </p> - <p> - The woman began to explain; but it is an awkward thing to explain to - strangers that you have no money and are without any credentials. I - hesitated. Eventually I hope I should have helped her, but my charity and - kindliness were by no means as ready and spontaneous as those of my - gallant young host. He never hesitated a moment. You would have thought - that women and babies without any money were his everyday business. - </p> - <p> - “Why, sure,” said he in his pleasant American voice, “if I can be of any - assistance. But you can't go to-day, Mrs Chang; of course you will stay - with us—oh yes, yes; indeed we should be very much hurt if you - didn't; and you will let me lend you some money.” - </p> - <p> - And so she was established among us, this woman who had committed the - unpardonable sin of the East, the sin against her race, the sin for which - there is no atoning. It is extraordinary after all these years, after all - that has been said and written, that Englishwomen, women of good class and - standing, will so outrage all the laws of decency and good taste. This - woman talked. She did not like the Chinese, she would not associate with - them; her husband, of course, was different. He was good to her; but it - was hard to get work in these troubled times, harder still to get paid for - it, and he had gone away in search of it, so she was going for a holiday - to Peking and—here she tumed|to the young men and talked about the - society and the dances and the amusement she expected to have among the - foreigners in the capital, she who for so long had been cut off from such - joys in the heart of China among an alien people. - </p> - <p> - We listened. What could we say? - </p> - <p> - “People in England don't really understand,” said she, “what being in - exile means. They don't understand the craving to go home and speak to - one's own people; but being in Peking will be something like being in - England.” - </p> - <p> - We other five never even looked at each other, because we knew, and we - could hardly believe, that she had not yet realised that in marrying a - Chinese, even one who had been brought up in England, she had exiled - herself effectually. The Chinese look down upon her, they will have none - of her, and among the foreigners she is outcast. These young men who had - come to her rescue with such right good will—“I could not see a - foreign woman in distress among Chinese”—will pass her in the street - with a bow, will not see her if they can help themselves, will certainly - object that anyone they care about should see them talking to her, and - their attitude but reflects that of the majority of the foreigners in - China. Her little child may not go to the same sehool as the foreign - children, even as it may not go to the same school as the Chinese. She has - committed the one error that outclasses her, and she is going to pay for - it in bitterness all the days of her life. And everyone in that room, - while we pitied her, held, and held strongly, that the attitude of the - community, foreign and Chinese, was one to be upheld. - </p> - <p> - “East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet,” and yet - here and there one still comes across a foolish woman who wrecks her life - because she never seems to have heard of this dictum. She talked and - talked, and told us how good was her husband to her, and we listeners said - afterwards she “doth protest too much,” she was convincing herself, not - us, and that, of course, seeing he was a Chinaman, he was disappointed - that the baby was a girl, and that his going off alone was the beginning - of the end, and we were thankful that she was “the only girl her mother - had got,” and so she could go back to her when the inevitable happened. - </p> - <p> - The pity of it! When will the stay-at-home English learn that the very - worst thing one of their women can do with her life is to wed an Oriental? - But when I think of that misguided woman in that remote Chinese village I - shall always think too of those gallant young gentlemen, perfect in - courteous kindliness, who ran the B.A.T. in Shih Chia Chuang. - </p> - <p> - The next day Buchanan and I and our following boarded the luxurious little - mountain railway and went to T'ai Yuan Fu. - </p> - <p> - This railway, to me, who know nothing of such things, is a very marvel of - engineering skill. There are great rugged mountains, steep and rocky, and - the train winds its way through them, clinging along the sides of - precipices, running through dark tunnels and cuttings that tower high - overhead and going round such curves that the engine and the guard's van - of a long train are going in exactly opposite directions. A wonderful - railway, and doubly was I interested in it because before ever I came to - China I had heard about it. - </p> - <p> - When there are disturbances in China it is always well for the foreign - element to flee while there is yet time, for the sanctity of human life is - not yet thoroughly grasped there, and there is always the chance that the - foreigner may be killed first and his harmlessness, or even his value, - discovered later. So in the revolution in the winter of 1910-1911, though - all train traffic had stopped, the missionaries from T'ai Yuan Fu and - those from the country beyond fled down this railway. A friend of mine, an - artist, happened to be staying at a mission station in the mountains and - made one of the party. It was the depth of a Shansi winter, a Continental - winter, with the thermometer generally below -15° at the warmest part of - the day, and the little band of fugitives came fleeing down this line on - trollies worked by the men of the party. They stayed the nights at the - deserted railway stations, whence all the officials had fled, and the - country people in their faded blue cotton wadded coats came and looked at - them and, pointing their fingers at them exactly as I have seen the folks - in the streets of London do at a Chinaman or an Arab in an outlandish - dress, remarked that these people were going to their death. - </p> - <p> - “Death! Death!” sounded on all sides. They, the country people, were - peaceful souls; they would not have killed them themselves; they merely - looked upon them as an interesting exhibit because they were foreign and - they were going to die. That the audience were wrong the people on show - were not quite as sure as they would have liked to be, and a single-line - railway through mountainous country is by no means easy to negotiate on a - trolly. They came to places where the line was carried upon trestles; they - could see a river winding its way at the bottom of a rocky ravine far - below them, and the question would be how to get across. It required more - nerve than most of them had to walk across the skeleton bridge. The - procedure seems to have been to give each trolly a good hard push, to - spring upon it and to trust to Providence to get safely across to the firm - earth upon the other side. The tunnels too, and the sharp curves, were - hair-raising, for they knew nothing of what was happening at the other end - of the line, and for all they could say they might have come full butt - upon a train rushing up in the other direction. - </p> - <p> - Eventually they did get through, but with considerable hardship, and I - should hesitate to say how many days that little company went without - taking off their clothes. I thought of them whenever our train went into a - tunnel, and I thought too of the gay girl who told me the story and who - had dwelt not upon the discomfort and danger, but upon the excitement and - exhilaration that comes with danger. - </p> - <p> - “I lived,” said she, “I lived,” and my heart went out to her. It is that - spirit in this “nation of shopkeepers” that is helping us to beat the - Germans. - </p> - <p> - The scenery through which we went is beautiful—it would be beautiful - in any land—and this in China, where I expected not so much beauty - as industry. There were evidences of industry in plenty on every side. - These people were brethren of the bandits who turned me north and they are - surely the most industrious in the world. Wherever among these stony hills - there was a patch of ground fit for cultivation, though it was tiny as a - pocket handkerchief, it was cultivated. Everywhere I saw people at work in - the fields, digging, weeding, ploughing with a dry cow or a dry cow and a - donkey hitched to the primitive plough, or guiding trains of donkeys or - mules carrying merchandise along the steep and narrow paths, and more than - once I saw strings of camels, old-world camels that took me back before - the days of written history. They kept to the valleys and evidently made - their way along the river beds. - </p> - <p> - Through mountain sidings and tunnels we came at length to the curious - loess country, where the friable land is cut into huge terraces that make - the high hills look like pyramids carved in great clay-coloured steps, and - now in April the green crops were already springing; another month and - they would be banks of waving green. The people are poor, their faces were - browned by the sun and the wind, their garments were scanty and ragged, - and the original blue was faded till the men and the clothes were all the - same monotonous clay colour of the surrounding country. The women I saw - here were few, and only afterwards I found the reason. The miserably poor - peasant of Shansi binds the feet of his women so effectually that to the - majority movement is a physical impossibility. - </p> - <p> - We climbed up and up through the mountains into the loess country, and at - last we were on the plateau, about four thousand feet above the sea-level, - whereon is T'ai Yuan Fu, the capital of the province. There are other - towns here too, little walled eities, and the train drew up at the - stations outside the grey brick walls, the most ancient and the most - modern, Babylon and Crewe meeting. Oh, I understand the need of those - walled eities now I have heard so much about Pai Lang. There is a certain - degree of safety behind those grey walls, so long as the robber bands are - small and the great iron-bound gates ean keep them out, but dire is the - fate of the city into which the enemy has penetrated, has fastened the - gates and holds the people in a trap behind their own walls. - </p> - <p> - But these people were at peace; they were thinking of no robbers. Pai Lang - was about five hundred miles away and the station platforms were crowded - with would-be travellers with their belongings in bundles, and over the - fence that shut off the platform hung a vociferating crowd waving white - banners on which were inscribed in black characters the signs of the - various inns, while each banner-bearer at the top of his voice advocated - the charms of his own employer's establishment. The queue was forbidden - for the moment, but many of these ragged touts and many of the other - peasants still wore their heads shaven in front, for the average Chinaman, - especially he of the poorer classes, is loath to give up the fashions of - his forefathers. - </p> - <p> - Every railway platform was pandemonium, for every person on that platform - yelled and shrieked at the top of his voice. On the main line every - station was guarded by untidy, unkempt-looking soldiers armed with rifles, - but there on this little mountain railway the only guards were policemen, - equally unkempt, clad in very dusty black and white and armed with - stout-looking bludgeons. They stood along the line at regular intervals, - good-natured-looking men, and I wondered whether they would really be any - good in an emergency, or whether they would not take the line of least - resistance and join the attacking force. - </p> - <p> - All across the cultivated plain we went, where not an inch of ground is - wasted, and at half-past five in the evening we arrived at T'ai Yuan Fu—arrived, - that is, at the station outside the little South Gate. - </p> - <p> - T'ai Yuan Fu is a great walled city eight miles round, with five gates in - the walls, gates that contrast strangely with the modern-looking - macadamised road which goes up from the station. I don't know why I should - feel that way, for they certainly had paved roads even in the days before - history. Outside the walls are neat, perhaps forty feet high and of grey - brick, and inside you see how these city walls are made, for they are the - unfinished clay banks that have been faced in front, and when I was there - in the springtime the grass upon them was showing everywhere and the - shrubs were bursting into leaf. But those banks gave me a curious feeling - of being behind the scenes. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0047.jpg" alt="0047 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0047.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - I was met at the station by some of the ladies of the English Baptist - Mission who had come to welcome me and to offer me, a total stranger to - them, kindly hospitality, and we walked through the gate to the mission - inside the walls. It was only a short walk, short and dusty, but it was - thronged. All the roadway was crowded with rickshaws and carts waiting in - a long line their turn to go underneath the gateway over which frowned a - typical many-roofed Chinese watch tower, and as cart or rickshaw came up - the men along with it were stopped by the dusty soldiery in black and grey - and interrogated as to their business. - </p> - <p> - When I got out on to the platform I had looked up at the ancient walls - clear-cut against the bright blue sky, and the women meeting me looked - askance at Tsai Chih Fu, who, a lordly presence, stood behind me, with - James Buchanan in his arms, a little black satin cap on his head and his - pigtail hanging down his back. - </p> - <p> - “There is some little commotion in the town,” said Miss Franklin. “They - are cutting off queues.” - </p> - <p> - The master of transport smiled tolerantly when they told him, and, taking - off his cap, he wound his tightly round his head. - </p> - <p> - “I know,” he said in the attitude of a man of the world, “some people do - not wear them now. But I have always worn one, and I like it,” and his - manner said he would like to see the person who would dare dictate to him - in what manner he should wear his hair. He could certainly have put up a - good fight. - </p> - <p> - It was not needed. He passed through unchallenged; he was a quietly - dressed man who did not court notice and his strapping inches were in his - favour. He might well be passed over when there were so many slighter men - more easily tackled. One man riding along in a rickshaw I saw put up a - splendid fight. At last he was hauled out of his carriage and his little - round cap tossed off his head, and then it was patent his queue could not - be cut, for he was bald as a billiard ball! The Chinese do understand a - joke, even a mob. They yelled and howled with laughter, and we heard it - echoing and re-echoing as we passed under the frowning archway, tramping - across many a dusty coil of coarse black hair roughly shorn from the heads - of the luckless adherents to the old fashion. The missionaries said that - Tsai Chih Fu must be the only man in T'ai Yuan Fu with a pigtail and that - it would be very useful to us as we went farther west, where they had not - yet realised the revolution. They doubted if he would be able to keep it - on so strict was the rule, but he did—a tribute, I take it, to the - force of my “master of transport.” - </p> - <p> - The ladies lived in a Chinese house close under the walls. There is a - great charm about these houses built round courtyards in the Chinese - style; there is always plenty of air and sunshine, though, as most of the - rooms open into the courtyard only, I admit in rough weather they must - sometimes be awkward, and when—as is always the case in Shansi in - winter-time—the courtyard is covered with ice and snow, and the - thermometer is far below zero for weeks at a time, it is impossible to go - from bedroom to sitting-room without being well wrapped up. And yet, - because China is not a damp country, it could never be as awkward as it - would be in England, and for weeks at a time it is a charming arrangement. - Staying there in April, I found it delightful. Buchanan and I had a room - under a great tree just showing the first faint tinge of green, and I - shall always be grateful for the kindly hospitality those young ladies - gave me. - </p> - <p> - From there we went out and saw T'ai Yuan Fu, and another kindly missionary - engaged muleteers for me and made all arrangements for my journey across - Shansi and Shensi and Kansu to Lan Chou Fu. - </p> - <p> - But T'ai Yuan Fu is not a nice town to stay in. - </p> - <p> - “The town,” said the missionaries, “is progressive and anti-foreign.” It - is. You feel somehow the difference in the attitude of the people the - moment you set foot inside the walls. It seems to me that if trouble - really came it would be an easy matter to seize the railway and cut off - the foreign missionaries from all help, for it is at least a fortnight - away in the mountains. - </p> - <p> - They suffered cruelly at the Boxer time: forty men, women and little - helpless children were butchered in cold blood in the yamen, and the - archway leading to the hospital where Miss Coombs the schoolmistress was - deliberately burned to death while trying to guard and shelter her - helpless pupils still stands. In the yamen, with a refinement of torture, - they cut to pieces the little children first, and then the women, the nuns - of the Catholic Church the fierce soldiery dishonoured, and finally they - slew all the men. Against the walls in the street stand two miserable - stones that the Government were forced to put up to the memory of the - foreigners thus ruthlessly done to death, but a deeper memorial is - engraven on the hearts of the people. Some few years later the tree - underneath which they were slain was blasted by lightning and half - destroyed, and on that very spot, during the recent revolution, the Tao - Tai of the province was killed. - </p> - <p> - “A judgment!” said the superstitious people. “A judgment!” say even the - educated. - </p> - <p> - And during the late revolution the white people shared with the - inhabitants a terribly anxious time. Shut up in the hospital with a raging - mob outside, they waited for the place to be set on fire. The newest shops - in the principal streets were being looted, the Manchu city—a little - walled city within the great city—was destroyed, and though they - opened the gates and told the Manchus they might escape, the mob hunted - down the men as they fled and slew them, though, more merciful than Hsi An - Fu, they let the women and children escape. Men's blood was up, the lust - of killing was upon them, and the men and women behind the hospital walls - trembled. - </p> - <p> - “We made up our minds,” said a young missionary lady to me, “that if they - fired the place we would rush out and mingle in the mob waiting to kill - us. They looked awful. I can't tell you how they looked, but it would have - been better than being burned like rats in a trap.” - </p> - <p> - A Chinese crowd, to my Western eyes, unkempt, unwashed, always looks - awful; what it must be like when they are out to kill I cannot imagine. - </p> - <p> - And then she went on: “Do you know, I was not really as much afraid as I - should have thought I would have been. There was too mueh to think about.” - Oh, merciful God! I pray that always in such moments there may be “too - much to think about.” - </p> - <p> - The mob looted the city. They ruined the university. They destroyed the - Manehus. But they spared the foreigners; and still there flourishes in the - town a mission of the English Baptists and another of the Catholics, but - when I was there the town had not yet settled down. There was unrest, and - the missionaries kept their eyes anxiously on the south, on the movements - of Pai Lang. We thought about him at Pao Ting Fu, but here the danger was - just a little nearer, help just a little farther away. Besides, the people - were different. They were not quite so subservient, not quite so friendly - to the foreigner, it would take less to light the tinder. - </p> - <p> - For myself, I was glad of the instinct that had impelled me to engage as - servant a man of inches. I dared never walk in the streets alone as I had - been accustomed to in Pao Ting Fu. It marks in my mind the jumping-off - place. Here I left altogether the civilisation of the West and tasted the - age-old civilisation of the East, the civilisation that was in full swing - when my ancestors were naked savages hunting the deer and the bear and the - wolf in the swamps and marshes of Northern Europe. I had thought I had - reached that civilisation when I lived in Peking, when I dwelt alone in a - temple in the mountains, when I went to Pao Ting Fu, but here in T'ai Yuan - Fu the feeling deepened. Only the mission stations stood between me and - this strange thing. The people in the streets looked at me askance, over - the compound wall came the curious sounds of an ancient people at work, - the shrieking of the greased wheel-barrows, the beating of gongs, the whir - of the rattle of the embroidery silk seller, the tinkling of the bells - that were hung round the necks of the donkeys and the mules, the shouting - of the hucksters selling scones and meat balls, all the sounds of an - industrious city, and I was an outsider, the alien who was something of a - curiosity, but who anyhow was of no account. Frankly, I don't like being - of no account. As a matter of fact, I shocked all Chinese ideas of correct - deportment. When a well-bred Chinese gentleman arrives at a strange place, - he does not look around him, he shows no curiosity whatever in his - surroundings, he retires to his room, his meal is brought to him and he - remains quietly in his resting-place till it is time for him to take his - departure, and what applies to a man, applies, of course, in an - exaggerated degree, to a woman. Now I had come to see China, and I made - every effort in my power to see all I could. I tremble to think what the - inhabitants of Shansi must have thought of me! Possibly, since I outraged - all their canons of decency, I was lucky in that they only found me of no - account. - </p> - <p> - All the while I was in T'ai Yuan Fu I was exceedingly anxious about the - measure of safety for a foreign woman outside the walls, and opinions - differed as to the wisdom of my venture, but, on the whole, those I - consulted thought I would be all right. They rather envied me, in fact, - the power to go wandering, but on one point they were very sure: it was a - pity Dr Edwards, the veteran missionary doctor, was not there, because he - knew more about China and travelling there than all the rest of them put - together. But he had gone out on his own account and was on the way to Hsi - An Fu, the town I had given up as hopeless. He did not propose to approach - it through the Tungkwan, but from the north, and they did not expect him - to have any difficulty. - </p> - <p> - Then I found I had not brought enough money with me and the missionaries - lent me more, and they engaged muleteers with four mules and a donkey that - were to take me across the thousand miles that lay between the capital of - Shansi and that of Kansu. Two men were in charge, and the cost of getting - there, everything included—the men to feed themselves and their - animals and I only to be responsible for the feeding and lodging of my own - servants—was exactly eighteen pounds. It has always seemed to me - ridiculously cheap. Money must go a long way in China for it to be - possible for two men to take four mules and a donkey laden a thousand - miles, and then come back unladen and keep themselves by the way, for so - small a sum. - </p> - <p> - So I sent off my servants the day before, then Buchanan and I bade - good-bye to the missionaries and went the first day's journey back along - the line to Yu Tze, where the road started for the Yellow River, and as I - left the train and was taken by Tsai Chih Fu and Mr Wang to the enclosure - of the inn where they had spent the night I felt that I had indeed left - the West behind, and the only companion and friend I had was James - Buchanan. It was lucky he was a host in himself. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—THE FIRST SIGN OF UNREST - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> was to ride a - pack-mule. Now riding a pack-mule at any time is an unpleasant way of - getting along the road. I know no more uncomfortable method. It is not - quite as comfortable as sitting upon a table with one's legs dangling, for - the table is still, the mule is moving, and one's legs dangle on either - side of his neck. There are neither reins nor stirrups, and the mule goes - at his own sweet will, and in a very short time your back begins to ache, - after a few hours that aching is intolerable. To get over this difficulty - the missionary had cut the legs off a chair and suggested that, mounted on - the pack, I might sit in it comfortably. I don't know whether I could, for - the mule objected. - </p> - <p> - It was a sunny morning with a bright blue sky above, and all seemed - auspicious except my mule, who expressed in no measured language his - dislike to that chair. Tsai Chih Fu had no sooner hoisted me into it than - up he went on his hind legs and, using them as a pivot, stood on end - pawing the air. Everybody in the inn-yard shrieked and yelled except, I - hope, myself, and then Tsai Chih Fu, how I know not, rescued me from my - unpleasant position, and thankfully I found myself upon the firm ground - again. He was a true Chinese mule and objected to all innovations. He - stood meekly enough once the chair was removed. - </p> - <p> - I wanted to cross Asia and here I was faced with disaster at the very - outset! Finally I was put upon the pack minus the chair, Buchanan was - handed up to me and nestled down beside me, and the procession started. My - heart sank. I don't mind acknowledging it now. I had at least a thousand - miles to go, and within half-an-hour of the start I had thoroughly grasped - the faet that of all modes of progression a pack-mule is the most - abominable. There are no words at my command to express its discomforts. - </p> - <p> - Very little did I see of the landscape of Shansi that day. I was engaged - in hanging on to my pack and wondering how I could stick it out. We passed - along the usual hopeless cart-track of China. I had eschewed Peking carts - as being the very acme of misery, but I was beginning to reflect that - anyhow a cart was comparatively passive misery while the back of a - pack-mule was decidedly active. Buchanan was a good little dog, but he - mentioned several times in the course of that day that he was - uncomfortable and he thought I was doing a fool thing. I was much of his - opinion. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0057.jpg" alt="0057 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0057.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0058.jpg" alt="0058 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0058.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - The day was never ending. All across a plain we went, with rough fields - just showing green on either hand, through walled villages, through little - towns, and I cared for nothing, I was too intent on holding on, on wishing - the day would end, and at last, as the dusk was falling, the muleteer - pointed out, clear-cut against the evening sky, the long wralls of a large - town—Taiku. At last! At last! - </p> - <p> - I was to stay the night at a large mission school kept by a Mr and Mrs - Wolf, and I only longed for the comfort of a bed, any sort of a bed so - long as it was flat and warm and kept still. We went on and on, we got - into the suburbs of the town, and we appeared to go round and round, - through an unending length of dark, narrow streets, full of ruts and - holes, with the dim loom of houses on either side, and an occasional gleam - of light from a dingy kerosene lamp or Chinese paper lantern showing - through the paper windows. - </p> - <p> - Again and again we stopped and spoke to men who were merely muffled - shapeless figures in the darkness, and again we went on. I think now that - in all probability neither Tsai Chih Fu nor Mr Wang understood enough of - the dialect to make the muleteers or the people of whom we inquired - understand where we wanted to go, but at last, more probably by good luck - than good management, somebody, seeing I was a foreigner, sent us to the - foreigners they knew, those who kept a school for a hundred and - twenty-five boys in the lovely Flower Garden. It certainly was lovely, an - old-world Chinese house, with little courtyards and ponds and terraces and - flowers and trees—and that comfortable bed I had been desiring so - long. As we entered the courtyard in the darkness and Tsai Chili Fu lifted - me down, the bed was the only thing I could think of. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0059.jpg" alt="0059 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0059.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - And yet next day I started again—I wonder now I dared—and we - skirted the walls of Taiku. We had gone round two sides and then, as I - always do when I am dead-tired, I had a bad attack of breathlessness. Stay - on that pack I knew I could not, so I made my master of transport lift me - down, and I sat on a bank for the edification of all the small boys in the - district who, even if they had known how ill I felt, probably would not - have cared, and I deeided there and then that pack-mule riding was simply - impossible and something would have to be done. Therefore, with great - difficulty, I made my way baek to the mission school and asked Mr Wolf - what he would recommend. - </p> - <p> - Again were missionaries kindness itself to me. They sympathised with my - trouble, they took me in and made me their guest, refusing to take any - money for it, though they added to their kindness by allowing me to pay - for the keep of my servants, and they strongly recommended that I should - have a litter. A litter then I decided I would have. - </p> - <p> - It is, I should think, the very earliest form of human conveyance. It - consists of two long poles laid about as far apart as the shafts of an - ordinary cart, in the middle is hung a coarse-meshed rope net, and over - that a tilt of matting—the sort of stuff we see tea-chests covered - with in this country. Into the net is tumbled all one's small impedimenta—clothes-bags, - kettles, anything that will not conveniently go on mule-back; the bedding - is put on top, rugs and cushions arranged to the future inmate's - satisfaction, then you get inside and the available people about are - commandeered to hoist the concern on to the backs of the couple of mules, - who object very strongly. The head of the one behind is in the shafts, and - the ends rest in his pack-saddle, and the hind quarters of the one in - front are in the shafts, just as in an ordinary buggy. Of course there are - no reins, and at first I felt very much at the mercy of the mules, though - I am bound to say the big white mule who conducted my affairs seemed to - thoroughly understand his business. Still it is uncomfortable, to say the - least of it, to find yourself going, apparently quite unattended, down - steep and rocky paths, or right into a rushing river. But on the whole a - litter is a very comfortable way of travelling; after a pack-mule it was - simply heaven, and I had no doubts whatever that I could comfortably do - the thousand miles, lessened now, I think, by about thirty, that lay - before me. If I reached Lan Chou Fu there would be time enough to think - how I would go on farther. And here my muleteers had me. When I arranged - for a litter, I paid them, of course, extra, and I said another mule was - to be got to carry some of the loads. They accepted the money and agreed. - But I may say that that other mule never materialised. I accepted the - excuse when we left Taiku that there was no other mule to be hired, and by - the time that excuse had worn thin I had so much else to think about that - I bore up, though not even a donkey was added to our equipment. - </p> - <p> - Money I took with me in lumps of silver, sycee—shoes, they called - them—and a very unsatisfactory way it is of carrying cash. It is - very heavy and there is no hiding the fact that you have got it. We - changed little bits for our daily needs as we went along, just as little - as we could, because the change in cash was an intolerable burden. On one - occasion in Fen Chou Fu I gave Tsai Chih Fu a very small piece of silver - to change and intimated that I would like to see the result. That piece of - silver I reckon was worth about five shillings, but presently my master of - transport and one of the muleteers came staggering in and laid before me - rows and rows of cash strung on strings! I never felt so wealthy in my - life. After that I never asked for my change. I was content to keep a sort - of general eye on the expenditure, and I expect the only leakage was the - accepted percentage which every servant levies on his master. 'When they - might easily have cheated me, I found my servants showed always a most - praiseworthy desire for my welfare. And yet Mr Wang did surprise me - occasionally. While I was in Pao Ting Fu I had found it useful to learn to - count in Chinese, so that roughly I knew what people at the food-stalls - were charging me. On one occasion I saw some little cakes powdered with - sesame seed that I thought I should like and I instructed Mr Wang to buy - me one. I heard him ask the price and the man say three cash, and my - interpreter turned to me and said that it was four! I was so surprised I - said nothing. It may have been the regulation percentage, and twenty-five - per cent is good anywhere, but at the moment it seemed to me extraordinary - that a man who considered himself as belonging to the upper classes should - find it worth his while to do me out of one cash, which was worth—no, - I give it up. I don't know what it was worth. 10.53 dollars went to the - pound when I was in Shansi and about thirteen hundred cash to the dollar, - so I leave it to some better mathematician than I am to say what I was - done out of on that occasion. - </p> - <p> - There was another person who was very pleased with the litter and that was - James Buchanan. Poor little man, just before we left the Flower Garden he - was badly bitten by a dog, so badly he could no longer walk, and I had to - carry him on a cushion alongside me in the litter. I never knew before how - dearly one could love a dog, for I was terrified lest he should die and I - should be alone in the world. He lay still and refused to eat, and every - movement seemed to pain him, and whenever I struck a missionary—they - were the only people, of course, with whom I could converse—they - always suggested his back was broken. - </p> - <p> - I remember at Ki Hsien, where I was entertained most hospitably, and where - the missionary's wife was most sympathetic, he was so ill that I sat up - all night with him and thought he would surely die. And yet in the morning - he was still alive. He moaned when we lifted him into the litter and - whined pitifully when I got out, as I had to several times to take - photographs. - </p> - <p> - “Don't leave me, don't leave me to the mercy of the Chinese,” he said, and - greeted me with howls of joy when I returned. It was a great day for both - of us when he got a little better and could put his pretty little black - and white head round the tilt and keep his eye upon me while I worked. But - really he was an ideal patient, such a good, patient little dog, so - grateful for any attention that was paid him, and from that time he began - to mend and by the time I reached Fen Chou Fu was almost his old gay happy - little self again. - </p> - <p> - Taiku is a dying town over two thousand years old, and I have before seen - dead towns in China. Fewer and fewer grow the inhabitants, the grass grows - in the streets, the bricks fall away from the walls, the houses fall down, - until but a few shepherds or peasant farmers dwell where once were the - busy haunts of merchants and tradesmen. - </p> - <p> - From Taiku I went on across the rich Shansi plain. Now in the springtime - in the golden sunshine the wheat was just above the ground, turning the - land into one vivid green, the sky was a cloudless blue, and all was - bathed in the golden sunshine of Northern China. The air was clear and - invigorating as champagne. “Every prospect pleases,” as the hymn says, - “and only man is vile.” He wasn't vile; really I think he was a very good - fellow in his own way, which was in a dimension into which I have never - and am never likely to enter, but he was certainly unclean, ignorant, a - serf, poverty-stricken with a poverty we hardly conceive of in the West, - and the farther away I found myself from T'ai Yuan Fu the more friendly - did I find him. This country was not like England, where until the last - four years has been in the memory of our fathers and our fathers' fathers - only peace. Even now, now as I write, when the World War is on, an air - raid is the worst that has befallen the home-staying citizens of Britain. - But Shansi has been raided again and again. Still the land was tilled, - well tilled; on every hand were men working hard, working from dawn to - dark, and working, to a stranger's eyes, for the good of the community, - for the fields are not divided by hedge or fence; there is an occasional - poplar or elm, and there are graves everywhere, but there is nothing to - show where Wang's land ends and Lui's begins. All through the cultivated - land wanders, apparently without object, the zigzag track of sand and ruts - and stones known as the Great South Road, impossible for anything with - wheels but a Chinese cart, and often impossible for that. There are no - wayside cottages, nothing save those few trees to break the monotony, only - here and there is a village sheltering behind high walls, sometimes of - mud, but generally of brick, and stout, substantial brick at that; and if, - as is not infrequent, there is a farmhouse alone, it, too, is behind high - brick walls, built like a baronial castle of mediaeval times, with a - look-out tower and room behind the walls not only for the owner's family - even unto the third and fourth generation, but for all his hinds and his - dependents as well. The whole is built evidently with a view to defence, - and built apparently to last for hundreds of years. For Shansi is worth - raiding. There is oil and there is wheat in abundance. There is money too, - much of which comes from Mongolia and Manchuria. The bankers (the Shansi - men are called the Jews of China) wander across and trade far into Russian - territory while still their home is in agricultural Shansi, and certain it - is that any disturbances in these countries, even in Russia, affect the - prosperity of Shansi. I wonder if the Russian Revolution has been felt - there. Very probably. - </p> - <p> - Shansi is rich in other things too not as yet appreciated by the Chinaman. - She has iron and copper and coal that has barely been touched, for the - popular feeling is against mining. They say that no part of the globe - contains such stores of coal. I hesitate about quoting a German, but they - told me that Baron Reichthoffen has said that this province has enough - coal to supply the world for two thousand years at the present rate of - consumption. I haven't the faintest notion whether the Baron's opinion is - worth anything, but if it is, it is no wonder that Germany, with her eye - for ever on the main chance, has felt deeply being thrust out of China. - </p> - <p> - With ample coal, and with iron alongside it, what might not Shansi be - worth to exploit! - </p> - <p> - Ki Hsien is a little walled town five <i>li</i> round. Roughly three <i>li</i> - make a mile, but it is a little doubtful. For instance, from Taiku to Ki - Hsien is fifty li, and that fifty <i>li</i> is sixteen miles, from Ki - Hsien to Ping Yao is also fifty li, but that is only fourteen English - miles. The land, say the Chinese, explaining this discrepancy, was - measured in time of famine when it wasn't of any value! A very Chinese - explanation. - </p> - <p> - The city of Ki Hsien is very, very crowded; there were hundreds of tiny - courtyards and flat roofs. In the picture of the missionary's house I have - not been able to get the roof in because the courtyard—and it was a - fairly large courtyard as courtyards in the city go—was not big - enough. I stood as far away as I possibly could. Mr and Mrs Falls belonged - to the Chinese Inland Mission and the house they lived in was over three - hundred years old. Like many of the houses in Shansi, it was two storeys - high and, strangely enough, a thing I have never seen anywhere else, the - floors upstairs were of brick. - </p> - <p> - I do not know how I would like to live in such a crowded community, but it - has its advantages on occasion. At the time of the revolution, when those - missionaries who had come through the Boxer times were all troubled and - anxious about their future, the Falls decided to stay on at their station, - and a rich native doctor, a heathen, but a friend, who lived next door, - commended that decision. - </p> - <p> - “Why go away?” said he. “Your courtyard adjoins mine. If there is trouble - we put up a ladder and you come over to us.” - </p> - <p> - And there was hint of trouble then. As we sat at supper there came in the - Chinese postman in his shabby uniform of dirty blue and white, with his - large military cap pushed on the back of his head, and he brought to the - Falls a letter from Dr Edwards, the missionary doctor all foreign T'ai - Yuan Fu thought I ought to meet. - </p> - <p> - When I was within reach of the Peking foreign daily papers they mentioned - Pai Lang as one might mention a burglar in London, sandwiching him in - between the last racing fixtures or the latest Cinema attraction, but from - a little walled town within a day's march of Hsi An Fu the veteran - missionary wrote very differently, and we in this other little walled town - read breathlessly. - </p> - <p> - White Wolf had surrounded Hsi An Fu, he said; it was impossible to get - there and he was returning. - </p> - <p> - The darkness had fallen, the lamp in the middle of the table threw a light - on the letter and on the faces of the middle-aged missionary and his wife - who pored over it. It might mean so much to them. It undoubtedly meant - much to their friends in Hsi An Fu, and it meant much to me, the outsider - who had but an hour ago walked into their lives. For I began to fear lest - this robber might affect me after all, lest in coming north I was not - going to outflank him. According to Dr Edwards, he had already taken a - little walled city a hundred li—about a day's journey—north-west - of Hsi An Fu, and when 'White Wolf took a town it meant murder and rapine. - And sitting there in the old Chinese room these two people who knew China - told me in no measured terms what might happen to a woman travelling alone - in disturbed country. - </p> - <p> - Missionaries, they said, never left their stations when the country was - disturbed, they were safer at home, surrounded by their friends. Once the - country is raided by a robber band—and remember this is no uncommon - thing in China—all the bad characters in the country come to the - fore, and robber bands that have nothing to do with the original one - spring into existence, the cities shut their gates to all strangers, and - passports are so much waste paper. Between ourselves, I have a feeling - they always are in China. I could hardly tell the difference between mine - and my agreement with my muleteers, and I have an uneasy feeling that - occasionally the agreement was presented when it should have been the - passport. - </p> - <p> - Now no one could be certain whether Pai Lang intended to take Lan Chou Fu, - but it looked as if that were his objective. If he took the city it would - not be much good my getting there, because the bankers would certainly not - be able to supply me with money; even if he only raided the country round, - it would be so disturbed that my muleteers would be bound to take alarm. - If they left me, and they certainly would leave me if they thought there - was a chance of their mules being taken, I should be done. It would spell - finish not only to the expedition but to my life. A foreigner, especially - a woman without money and without friends, would be helpless in China. Why - should the people help her? It takes them all they know to keep their own - heads above water. And Kansu was always turbulent; it only wanted a match - to set the fire alight. Air and Mrs Falls—bless them for their - kindness and interest!—thought I should be mad to venture. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0068.jpg" alt="0068 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0068.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0069.jpg" alt="0069 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0069.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0070.jpg" alt="0070 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0070.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - So there in the sitting-room which had been planned for a merchant prince - and had come into the possession of these two who desired to bring the - religion of the West to China I sat and discussed this new obstacle. After - coming so far, laying out so much money, could I turn back when danger did - not directly press? I felt I could not. And yet my hosts pointed out to me - that if danger did directly threaten I would not be able to get away. If - Pai Lang did take Lan Chou Fu, or even if he did not, it might well be - worth his while to turn east and raid fertile Shansi. In a little town - like Ki Hsien there was loot well worth having. In the revolution a banker - there was held to ransom, and paid, as the people put it, thirty times ten - thousand taels (a tael is roughly three shillings, according to the price - of silver), and they said it was but a trifle to him—a flea-bite, I - believe, was the exact term—and I ean well believe, in the multitude - of worse parasites that afflict the average Chinaman, a flea-bite means - much less than it does in England. - </p> - <p> - However, I didn't feel like giving up just yet, so I decided to go on to - Fen Chou Fu, where was a big American mission, and see what they had to - say about the matter. If then I had to flee, the missionaries would very - likely be fleeing too, and I should have company. - </p> - <p> - And the very next day I had what I took for a warning. - </p> - <p> - It was a gorgeous day, a cloudless blue sky and brilliant sunshine, and I - passed too many things of interest worth photographing. There were some - extraordinary tombs, there was a quaint village gateway—the Gate of - Everlasting Peace they call it—but I was glad to get back into my - litter and hoped to stay there for a little, for getting out of a litter - presents some difficulties unless you are very active indeed. It is a good - long drop across the shafts on to the ground; the only other alternative - is to drop down behind the mule's hind quarters and slip out under those - shafts, but I never had sufficient confidence in my mule to do that, so - that I generally ealled upon Tsài Chih Fu to lift me down. I had set out - full of tremors, but taking photographs of the peaceful scenes soothed my - ruffled nerves. I persuaded myself my fears had been born of the night and - the dread of loneliness which sometimes overtakes me when I am in company - and thinking of setting out alone, leaving kindly faces behind. - </p> - <p> - And then I came upon it, the first sign of unrest. - </p> - <p> - The winding road rose a little and I could see right ahead of us a great - crowd of people evidently much agitated, and I called to Mr Wang to know - what was the matter. - </p> - <p> - “Repeat, please,” said he as usual, and then rode forward and came baek - saying, “I do not know the word.” - </p> - <p> - “What word?” - </p> - <p> - “What is a lot of people and a dead man?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah!” said I, jumping to conclusions unwarrantably, “that is a funeral.” - </p> - <p> - “A funeral!” said he triumphantly. “I have learned a new word.” - </p> - <p> - Mr Wang was always learning a new word and rejoicing over it, but, as I - had hired him as a finished product, I hardly think it was unreasonable of - me to be aggrieved, and to feel that I was paying him a salary for the - pleasure of teaching him English. However, on this occasion his triumph - was short-lived. . - </p> - <p> - “Would you like to see the funeral?” he said. - </p> - <p> - I intimated that I would. My stalwart master of transport lifted me down - and the crowded people made a lane for me to pass through, and half of - them turned their attention to me, for though there were missionaries in - the big towns, a foreigner was a sight to these country people, and, Mr - Wang going first, we arrived at a man with his head cut off! Mercifully he - was mixed up with a good deal of matting and planks, but still there was - no mistaking the poor dead feet in their worn Chinese shoes turned up to - the sky. - </p> - <p> - Considering we are mortal, it is extraordinary how seldom the ordinary - person looks upon death. Always it comes with a shock. At least it did. I - suppose this war has accustomed some of us to the sight, so that we take - the result of the meeting of mortal man with his last friend on earth more - as a matter of eourse, as indeed it should be taken. Of course I know this - is one of the results of the war. - </p> - <p> - My sister's son, staying with me after six months in hospital, consequent - upon a wound at Gallipoli, came home from a stroll one day and reported - that he had seen nothing, and then at dinner that night mentioned in a - casual manner that he had seen two dead men being carried out of a large - building and put in a motor ear. - </p> - <p> - I said in astonishment: - </p> - <p> - “They couldn't have been dead!” - </p> - <p> - “Of course they were. Do you think I don't know dead men when I see them? - I've seen plenty.” - </p> - <p> - So many that the sight of a couple in the streets of a quiet little - country town seemed not even an occasion for remark. - </p> - <p> - But I was not even accustomed to thinking of dead men and I turned upon Mr - Wang angrily: - </p> - <p> - “But that isn't a funeral. That's a corpse,” and once more to my - irritation he rejoiced over a new word. - </p> - <p> - “Who killed him?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “They think an enemy has done this thing,” said he sententiously and - unnecessarily, as, ignorant as I am of tilings Chinese, I should hardly - think even they could have called it a friendly action. The body had been - found the day before, and the people were much troubled about it. An - official from Ping Yow—a coroner, I suppose we should call him—was - coming out to inquire about it, and because the sun was already hot the - people had raised a little screen of matting with a table and chairs where - he could sit to hold inquiry. - </p> - <p> - And here was the thing the missionaries had warned me against. Trouble, - said they, always begins by the finding of dead bodies that cannot be - accounted for, and this body was on the Great South Road. It might be only - a case of common murder such as one might perchance meet in Piccadilly, - possibly it was due to the bands of soldiers that were pouring into the - country—to defend the crossings of the Yellow River, some people - said—but it was to me an emphatic reminder that the warnings of Mr - and Mrs Falls had not been given lightly, and I meditated upon it all the - way to Ping Yow. - </p> - <p> - All day long the soldiers had been pouring through Ki Hsien, all night - long they poured through the suburbs of Ping Yow. Not through the town - itself—the townspeople were not going to allow that if they could - help themselves; and as it was evidently a forced march and the regiments - were travelling by night, they could help themselves, for every city gate - is shut at sundown. The China Inland Mission had a station at an old camel - inn in the eastern suburb, and there the missionary's young wife was alone - with five young children, babies all of them, and there I found her. I - think she was very glad to see me, anyhow I was someone to discuss things - with, and we two women talked and talked over our evening meal. She was a - tall, pretty young woman—not even the ugly Chinese dress and her - hair drawn back, not a hair out of place, Chinese fashion, could disguise - her pathetic beauty. And she was a countrywoman of mine, born and brought - up in the same state, Victoria, and her native town was Ararat, green and - fresh among the hills. And how she talked Australia! What a beautiful land - it was! And the people! The free, independent people! The women who walked - easily and feared no man! To thoroughly appreciate a democratic country - you should dwell in effete China. But she feared too, this woman, feared - for herself and her five tiny children. It would be no easy job to get - away. I told her of the dead man I had seen—how should I not tell - her?—and she trembled. - </p> - <p> - “Very likely it is the soldiers,” she said. “I am afraid of the Chinese - soldiers.” And so am I in bulk, though taken singly they seem sueh - harmless little chaps. - </p> - <p> - “When the willow is green and the apricot yellow in the fifth moon,” said - a metrical inscription on a stone dug up at Nankin in that year—the - fatal year 1914—“terrible things will happen in the land of Han.” - Terrible things, it seems to me, always happen in the land of Han; but if - it spoke for the great world beyond, truly the stone spoke truth, though - we did not know it then. - </p> - <p> - In the evening back from the country where he had been preaching for the - last day or two came my Australian's husband, and there also came in to - see the stranger two missionaries from the other side of the town. They - sat there, these men and women of British race, dressed in the outlandish - costume of the people around them—a foolish fashion, it seems to me, - for a European in unadulterated Chinese dress looks as ugly and out of - place as a Chinese in a stiff collar and a bowler hat. And all the evening - we discussed the soldiers and the dead man I had seen, and opinions - differed as to the portent. - </p> - <p> - It is true, said one of them who had been in the country many years, and - was a missionary pure and simple, with eyes for nothing but the work he - had in hand—which is probably the way to work for success—that - a dead body, particularly a dead body by the highroad, is often a sign of - unrest, but again, quite as often it means no more than a dead body in any - other place. If he had turned back for every dead body he had seen—— - </p> - <p> - Well, I thought I would not turn back either. Not yet, at least. - </p> - <p> - Never was I sorrier for missionaries, I who have always written against - missionaries, than I was for this young countrywoman of mine who never - thought of being sorry for herself. It was a big ugly mission compound, - the rooms, opening one into another, were plain and undecorated, and the - little children as a great treat watered the flowers that struggled up - among the stones of the dusty courtyard, and the very watering-can was - made with Chinese ingenuity from an old kerosene tin. It seemed to me - those little children would have had such a much better chance growing up - in their mother's land, or in their father's land—he was a Canadian—among - the free peoples of the earth. But who am I, to judge? No one in the - world, it seems to me, wants help so much as the poorer Chinese, whose - life is one long battle with disease and poverty; and perhaps these poorer - missionaries help a little, a very little; but the poorer the mission the - poorer the class they reach, and the sacrifice, as I saw it here, is so - great. - </p> - <p> - Next morning we arose early, and I breakfasted with my host and hostess - and their five children. The children's grace rings in my ears yet, always - I think it will ring there, the childish voices sung it with such fervour - and such faith: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “Every day, every day, we bless Thee, we bless Thee, - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - We praise Thy Name, we praise Thy Name, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - For ever and for ever!” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - There in the heart of China these little children, who had, it seemed to - me, so very little to be grateful for, thanked their God with all their - hearts, and when their elders with the same simple fervour went down on - their knees and asked their God to guide and help the stranger and set her - on her way, though it was against all my received canons of good taste, - what could I do but be simply grateful. - </p> - <p> - Ping Yow is a large town set in the midst of a wheatgrowing country, and - it is built in the shape of a turtle, at least so I was told. I could see - for myself that its walls were not the usual four-square set to the points - of the compass, but seemed irregular, with many little towers upon them. - These towers, it seems, were built in memory of the teachers of Confucius—this - is the only intimation I have had that he had seventy-two; and there were - over three thousand small excrescences—again I only repeat what I - was told; I did not count them, and if I had I would surely have counted - them wrong—like sentry-boxes in memory of his disciples. I do not - know why Ping Yow thus dedicates itself to the memory of the great sage. - It needs something to commend it, for it remains in my mind as a bare, - ugly, crowded town, with an extra amount of dust and dirt and heat, and no - green thing to break the monotony. - </p> - <p> - And I set forth, and in spite of all I still faced West. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0079.jpg" alt="0079 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0079.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0080.jpg" alt="0080 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0080.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—A CITY UNDER THE HILLS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n my wanderings - across Shansi I came in contact with two missionary systems run with the - same object in view but carried out in diametrically opposite ways. Of - course I speak as an outsider. I criticise as one who only looks on, but - after all it is an old saw that the onlooker sees most of the game. There - are, of course, many missions in China, and I often feel that if the - Chinaman were not by nature a philosopher he would sometimes be a little - confused by salvation offered him by foreigners of all sects and classes, - ranging from Roman Catholics to Seventh Day Adventists. Personally I have - received much kindness from English Baptists, from the China Inland - Mission and from American Presbyterians and Congregationalists. Amongst - them all I—who frankly do not believe in missions, believing that - the children at home should first be fed—found much to admire, much - individual courage and sacrifice, but for the systems, I felt the American - missions were the most efficient, far the most likely to attain the end in - view. - </p> - <p> - The Chinaman, to begin with, sees no necessity for his own conversion. - Unlike the ordinary black man, he neither admires nor envies the white - man, and is given to thinking his own ways are infinitely preferable. But - the Chinaman is a man of sound common-sense, he immensely admires - efficiency, he is a great believer in education, and when a mission comes - to him fully equipped with doctors, nurses and hospitals, teachers and - schools, he, once he has overcome his dread of anything new, begins to - avail himself first of the doctor and the hospital, for the sore need of - China is for medical attendance, and then of the schools. Then comes - conversion. They tell me that there are many genuine converts. I have only - noticed that the great rich American missions rake in converts by tens and - twenties, where they come dribbling in in units to the faith missions, - which offer no such advantages as medical attendance or tuition. The faith - missionaries work hard enough. I have seen a woman just come in from a - week's missionary tour in a district where, she explained, she had slept - on the k'angs with the other women of the household, and she was stripping - off her clothes most carefully and combing her long hair with a - tooth-comb, because all women of the class she visited among were - afflicted with those little parasites that we do not mention. The Chinese - have a proverb that “the Empress herself has three,” so it is no shame. - She thought nothing of her sacrifice, that was what she had come for, - everyone else was prepared to do the same; but when so much is given I - like to see great results, as in the American missions. They are rich, and - the Chinaman, with a few glaring exceptions, is a very practical person. - To ask him to change his faith for good that will work out in another - world is asking rather much of him. If he is going to do so he feels he - may as well have a God who will give him something in return for being - outcast. At least that is the way I read the results. Look at Fen Chou, - for instance, where the Americans are thriving and a power in the town, - and look at Yung Ning Chou, farther west, where a Scandinavian faith - mission has been established for over twenty years. They may have a few - adherents in the country round, but in the city itself—a city of - merchants—they have, I believe, not made a single convert. - </p> - <p> - Of course the China Inland Mission does not lay itself out to be rich. - However many subscriptions come in, the individual missionary gets no more - than fifty pounds a year; if more money comes, more missionaries are - established, if less, then the luckless individual missionary gets as much - of the fifty pounds as funds allow. The Founder of the Faith was poor and - lowly, therefore the missionaries must follow in His footsteps. I - understand the reason, the nobility, that lies in the sacrifice implied - when men and women give their lives for their faith, but not only do I - like best the results of the American system, but I dislike exceedingly - that a European should be poor in an Oriental country. If missionaries - must go to China, I like them to go for the benefit of the Chinese and for - the honour and glory of the race to which they belong, and not for the - good of their own souls. - </p> - <p> - I came into Fen Chou Fu and went straight to the large compound of the - American missionaries, three men and three women from Oberlin College, - Ohio. They had a hospital, they had a school, they had a kindergarten, the - whole compound was a flourishing centre of industry. They teach their - faith, for that is what they have come out for, but also they teach the - manifold knowledge of the West. Sanitation and hygiene loom large in their - curriculum, and heaven knows, without taking into consideration any future - life, they must be a blessing to those men and women who under cruel - conditions must see this life through. These six missionaries at Fen Chou - Fu do their best to improve those conditions with a practical American - common-sense and thoroughness that won my admiration. - </p> - <p> - Fen Chou Fu, unlike T'ai Yuan Fu, is friendly, and has always been - friendly, to the foreigner; even during the Boxer trouble they were loath - to kill their missionaries, and when the order came that they were to be - slain, declined to allow it to be done within their walls, but sent them - out, and they were killed about seven miles outside the city—a very - Chinese way of freeing themselves from blood-guiltiness. - </p> - <p> - The town struck me as curiously peaceful after the unrest and the - never-ending talk of riot, robbery and murder I had heard all along the - road. The weather was getting warm and we all sat at supper on the - verandah of Dr Watson's house, with the lamps shedding a subdued light on - the table, and the sounds of the city coming to us softened by the - distance, and Mr Watt Pye assured me he had been out in the country and - there was nothing to fear, nothing. The Chinaman as he had seen him had - many sins, at least errors of conduct that a missionary counts sin, but as - far as he knew I might go safely to the Russian border. He had not been in - the country very long, not, I fancy, a fifth of the time Dr Edwards had - been there, but, listening to him, I hoped once more. - </p> - <p> - The town is old. It was going as a city in 2205 b.c., and it is quite - unlike any other I have come across in China. It is a small square city - about nine <i>li</i> round, and on each of the four sides are suburbs, - also walled. Between them and the city are the gully-like roads leading to - the gates. The eastern suburb is nearly twice as large as the main city, - and is surrounded by a high brick wall, but the other suburbs have only - walls like huge banks of clay, on the top the grass grows, and on my way - in I was not surprised to see on top of this clay-bank a flock of sheep - browsing. It seemed a very appropriate place for sheep, for at first sight - there is nothing to show that this was the top of a town wall. - </p> - <p> - When the Manehus drove out the Mings, the vanquished Imperial family took - refuge in this western town and rebuilt the walls, which had been allowed - to fall into disrepair, and they set about the job in a fashion worthy of - Babylon itself. The bricks were made seven miles away in the hills, and - passed from hand to hand down a long line of men till they reached their - destination and were laid one on top of another to face the great - clay-bank forty-six feet high that guards the city. According to Chinese - ideas, the city needs guarding not from human enemies only. The mountains - to the west and north overshadow it, and all manner of evil influences - come from the north, and the people fear greatly their effect upon the - town. It was possible it might never get a good magistrate, or that, - having got one, he might die, and therefore they took every precaution - they could to ward off such a calamity. Gods they put in their watch tower - over the gate, and they sit there still, carved wooden figures, a great - fat god—if a city is to be prosperous must not its god be prosperous - too?—surrounded by lesser satellites. Some are fallen now, and the - birds of the air roost upon them, and the dust and the cobwebs have - gathered upon them, but not yet will they be cleared away. In a chamber - below are rusty old-world cannon flung aside in a heap as so much useless - lumber, and, below, all the busy traffic of the city passes in and out - beneath the arches of the gateway. In that gateway are two upright stones - between whieh all wheeled traffic must pass, the distance between these - stones marking the length of the axle allowed by the narrow city streets. - Any vehicle having a greater length of axle cannot pass in. No mere words - can describe the awful condition of the roads of Shansi, and to lessen as - far as possible the chance of an upset the country man makes his axle very - wide, and, knowing this, the town man notifies at his gates the width of - the vehicle that can pass in his streets. No other can enter. - </p> - <p> - Besides the gods over the gateway, Fen Chou Fu, owing to its peculiar - position under the hills, requires other guarding, and there are two tall - bronze phoenixes on the wall close to the northern watch tower. I was - quite pleased to make the acquaintance of a phoenix, as, though I have - read about them, I had never met them before. In Fen Chou Fu it appears - that a phoenix is between thirty and forty feet high, built like a comic - representation of a chicken, with a long curly neck and a cock's comb upon - his head. It would indeed be a churlish, evil spirit who was not moved to - laughter at the sight. But though the form is crude, on the bronze bases - and on the birds themselves are worked beautifully the details of a long - story. Dragons and foxes and rabbits, and many strange symbols that I do - not understand come into it, but how they help to guard the city, except - by pleasing the gods or amusing the evil spirits, I must confess I cannot - imagine. Certainly the city fathers omit the most necessary care: once the - walls are finished, the mason is apparently never called in, and they are - drifting to decay. Everywhere the bricks are falling out, and when I was - there in the springtime the birds of the air found there a secure - resting-place. There were crows and hawks and magpies and whistling kites - popping in and out of the holes so made, in their beaks straws and twigs - for the making of their nests. They would be secure probably in any case, - for the Chinese love birds, but here they are doubly secure, for only with - difficulty and by the aid of a long rope could any man possibly reach - them. - </p> - <p> - The ramps up to those walls were extremely steep—it was a - heart-breaking process to get on top—but Buchanan and I, accompanied - by the master of transport carrying the camera, and often by Mr Leete, one - of the missionaries, took exercise there; for in a walled city in the - narrow streets there is seldom enough air for my taste. The climate here - is roughly summer and winter, for though so short a while ago it had been - freezing at night, already it was very hot in the middle of the day, and - the dust rose up from the narrow streets in clouds. A particularly bad - cloud of dust generally indicated pigs, which travel a good deal in - Northern China, even as sheep and cattle do in Australia. In Shantung a - man sets out with a herd of pigs and travels them slowly west, very - slowly, and they feed along the wayside, though what they feed on heaven - only knows, for it looks to me as though there is nothing, still possibly - they pick up something, and I suppose the idea is that they arrive at the - various places in time for the harvest, or when grain and products are - cheapest. There are inns solely given over to pigs and their drivers in - Shansi, and the stench outside some of those in Fen Chou Fu was just a - little taller than the average smell, and the average smell in a Chinese - city is something to be always remembered. There were other things to be - seen from the top of the wall too—long lines of camels bearing - merchandise to and from the town, donkeys, mules, carts, all churning up - the dust of the unkempt roadway, small-footed women seated in their - doorways looking out upon the life of the streets, riding donkeys or - peeping out of the tilts of the carts. I could see into the courtyards of - the well-to-do, with their little ponds and bridges and gardens. All the - life of the city lay beneath us. Possibly that is why one meets so very, - very seldom any Chinese on the wall—it may be, it probably is, I - should think, bad taste to look into your neighbour's courtyard. - </p> - <p> - And the wall justified its existence, mediaeval and out of date as it - seemed to me. There along the top at intervals were little heaps of - good-sized stones, placed there by the magistrate in the revolution for - the defence of the town. At first I smiled and thought how primeval, but - looking down into the road nearly fifty feet below, I realised that a big - stone flung by a good hefty fist from the top of that wall was a weapon by - no means to be despised. - </p> - <p> - But walls, if often a protection, are sometimes a danger in more ways than - in shutting out the fresh air. The summer rains in North China are heavy, - and Fen Chou Fu holds water like a bucket. The only outlets are the narrow - gateways, and the waters rise and rise. A short time before I came there - all the eastern quarter of the town was flooded so deep that a woman was - drowned. At last the waters escaped through the eastern gate, only to be - banked up by the great ash-heaps, the product of centuries, the waste - rubbish of the town, that are just outside the wall of the eastern suburb. - It took a long, long while for those flood waters to percolate through the - gateway of the suburb and find a resting-place at last in a swamp the - other side of that long-suffering town. I must confess that this is one of - the drawbacks to a walled town that has never before occurred to me, - though to stand there and look at those great gates, those solid walls, - made me feel as if I had somehow wandered into the fourth dimension, so - out of my world were they. - </p> - <p> - There was a great fair in a Taoist temple and one day Mr Leete and I, with - his teacher and my servant, attended. A wonderful thing is a Chinese fair - in a temple. I do not yet understand the exact object of these fairs, - though I have attended a good many of them. Whether they help the funds of - the temple as a bazaar is supposed to help a church in this country, I - cannot say. A temple in China usually consists of a set of buildings often - in different courtyards behind one enclosing wall, and these buildings are - not only temples to the gods, but living-rooms which are often let to - suitable tenants, and, generally speaking, if the stranger knows his way - about—I never did—he can get in a temple accommodation for - himself and his servants, far superior accommodation to that offered in - the inns. It costs a little more, but everything is so cheap that makes no - difference to the foreigner. The Taoist temple the day I went there was - simply humming with life; there were stalls everywhere, and crowds of - people buying, selling or merely gossiping and looking on. I took a - picture of some ladies of easy virtue with gay dresses and gaily painted - faces, tottering about, poor things, on their maimed feet, and at the same - spot, close against the altar of the god, I took a picture of the priest. - With much hesitation he consented to stand. He had in his hand some - fortune-telling sticks, but did not dare hold them while his portrait was - being taken. However, Mr Leete's teacher was a bold, brave, enlightened - man—in a foreign helmet—and he held the sticks, and the two - came out in the picture together. I trust no subsequent harm came to the - daring man. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0089.jpg" alt="0089 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0089.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0090.jpg" alt="0090 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0090.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - In Fen Chou Fu I could have walked about the town alone unmolested. I - never did, because it would have been undignified and often awkward, as I - could not speak the language, but the people were invariably friendly. On - the whole, there was not very much to see. The sun poured down day after - day in a cloudless sky, and the narrow streets, faced with stalls or blank - grey brick walls enclosing the compounds, were dusty and uneven, with the - ruts still there that had been made when the ground was softened by the - summer rains of the year before. Away to the south-east was a great - pagoda, the second tallest in China, a landmark that can be seen for many - a long mile across the plain. This, like the phoenixes, is <i>feng shui</i>. - I have never grasped the inwardness of pagodas, which are dotted in - apparently a casual manner about the landscape. An immense amount of - labour must have been expended upon them, and they do not appear to serve - any useful purpose. This one at Fen Chou Fu is meant to balance after a - fashion the phoenixes on the northern wall and afford protection for the - southern approach to the city. I don't know that it was used for any other - purpose. It stood there, tall and commanding, dwarfing everything else - within sight. Neither do I know the purpose of the literary tower which - stands on the southeast corner of the wall. It denotes that the town - either has or hopes to have a literary man of high standing among its - inhabitants. But to look for the use in all things Chinese would be - foolish; much labour is expended on work that can be only for artistic - purposes. To walk through a Chinese town, in spite of filth, in spite of - neglect and disrepair, is to feel that the Chinaman is an artist to his - finger-tips. - </p> - <p> - The gate to the American church in Fen Chou Fu, for instance, was a - circle, a thing of strange beauty. Imagine such a gate in an English town, - and yet here it seemed quite natural and very beautiful. They had no bell, - why I do not know, perhaps because every temple in China has a plenitude - of bells hanging from its eaves and making the air musical when the - faintest breath of wind stirs and missionaries are anxious to dissociate - themselves in every way from practices they call idolatry, even when those - practices seem to an outsider like myself rather attractive. At any rate, - to summon the faithful to church a man beats a gong. - </p> - <p> - But there is one institution of Fen Chou Fu which is decidedly - utilitarian, and that is the wells in the northwestern corner. A Chinaman, - I should say, certainly uses on the average less water than the majority - of humanity; a bath when he is three days old, a bath when he is married, - and after that he can comfortably last till he is dead, is the generally - received idea of his ablutions, but he does want a little water to carry - on life, and in this corner of the town are situated the wells which - supply that necessary. It is rather brackish, but it is still drinkable, - and it is all that the city gets. They were a never-ending source of - interest to me. They were established in those far-away days before - history began—perhaps the presence of the water here was the reason - for the building of the town—and they have been here ever since. The - mouths are builded over with masonry, and year in and year out have come - those self-same carts with solid wheels, drawn by a harnessed ox or an ox - and a mule, bearing the barrels to be filled with water. Down through all - the ages those self-same men, dressed in blue cotton that has worn to a - dingy drab, with a wisp of like stuff tied round their heads to protect - them from the dust or the cold or the sun, have driven those oxen and - drawn that water. Really and truly our own water, that comes to us, hot - and cold, so easily by the turning of a tap, is much more wonderful and - interesting, but that I take as a matter of course, while I never tired of - watching those prehistoric carts. It was in rather a desolate corner of - the town too. The high walls rose up and frowned upon it, the inside of - the walls where there was no brick, only crumbling clay with shrubs and - creepers just bursting into leaf and little paths that a goat or an active - boy might negotiate meandering up to the top. And to get to that part I - had to pass the ruins of the old yamen razed to the ground when the - Government repented them of the Boxer atrocities, and razed so effectually - that only the two gate-posts, fashioned like lions, Chinese architectural - lions, survive. A curse is on the place, the people say; anyhow when I - visited it fourteen years later no effort had been made to rebuild. Not - for want of labour, surely. There are no trade unions in China, and daily - from dawn to dark in Fen Chou Fu I saw the bricklayers' labourers trotting - along, bringing supplies to the men who were building, in the streets I - met men carrying water to the houses in buckets, and now in the springtime - there was a never-ending supply of small boys, clad in trousers only, or - without even those, bearing, slung from each end of a bamboo, supplies of - firewood, or rather of such scraps as in any other land would have been - counted scarce worth the cost of transport. Any day too I might expect to - meet a coffin being borne along, not secretly and by night as we take one - to a house, but proudly borne in the open daylight, for everyone knows a - coffin is the most thoughtful and kindly as well as often the most - expensive of gifts. - </p> - <p> - While here I attended a wedding. Twice have I attended a Chinese wedding. - The first was at Pao Ting Fu at Christmas time, and the contracting - parties were an evangelist of the church who in his lay capacity was a - strapping big laundryman and one of the girls in Miss Newton's school. - They had never spoken to one another, that would have been a frightful - breach of decorum, but as they went to the same church, where there was no - screen between the men and the women, as there is in many Chinese - churches, it is possible they knew each other by sight. It is curious how - in some things the missionaries conform to Chinese ideas and in others - decline to yield an inch. In Pao Ting Fu no church member was allowed to - smoke, but the women were kept carefully in retirement, and the - schoolmistress, herself an unmarried woman, and the doctor's wife arranged - marriages for such of the girls as came under their guardianship. Of - course I see the reason for that: in the present state of Chinese society - no other method would be possible, for these schoolgirls, all the more - because they had a little scholarship and education, unless their future - had been arranged for, would have been a temptation and a prey for all the - young men around, and even with their careful education—and it was a - careful education; Miss Newton was a woman in a thousand, I always grudged - her to the Chinese—were entirely unfitted to take care of - themselves. - </p> - <p> - Still it always made me smile to see these two women, middle-class - Americans from Virginia, good-looking and kindly, with a keen sense of - humour, gravely discussing the eligible young men around the mission and - the girls who were most suitable for them. It was the most barefaced and - open match-making I have ever seen. But generally, I believe, they were - very successful, for this one thing is certain, they had the welfare of - the girls at heart. - </p> - <p> - And this was one of the matches they had arranged. It is on record that on - this special occasion the bridegroom, with the consent and connivance of - the schoolmistress, had written to the bride exhorting her to diligence, - and pointing out how good a thing it was that a woman should be well read - and cultured. And seeing that she came of very poor people she might well - be counted one of the fortunate ones of the earth, for the bridegroom was - educating her. The ignorance of the average Chinese woman in far higher - circles than she came of is appalling. - </p> - <p> - Christmas Day was chosen for the ceremony, and Christmas Day was a - glorious winter's day, with golden sunshine for the bride, and the air, - the keen, invigorating air of Northern China, was sparkling with frost. - Now, in contrast to the next wedding I attended, this wedding was on - so-called Western lines; but the Chinese is no slavish imitator, he - changes, but he changes after his own fashion. The church was decorated by - devout Chinese Christians with results which to 'Western eyes were a - little weird and outré. Over the platform that in an Anglican church would - be the altar was a bank of greenery, very pretty, with flowers dotted all - over it, and on it Chinese characters in cotton wool, “Earth rejoices, - heaven sings,” and across that again was a festoon of small flags of all - nations, while from side to side of the church were slung garlands of - gaily coloured paper in the five colours of the new republic, and when I - think of the time and patience that went to the making of those garlands I - was quite sorry they reminded me of fly-catchers. But the crowning - decoration was the Chinese angel that hovered over all. This being was - clad in white, a nurse's apron was used, girt in at the waist, foreign - fashion, and I grieve to say they did not give her much breathing-space, - though they tucked a pink flower in her belt. Great white paper wings were - spread out behind, and from her head, framing the decidedly Mongolian - countenance, were flowing golden curls, made by the ingenious decorators - of singed cotton wool. - </p> - <p> - One o'clock was fixed for the wedding, and at a quarter to one the church - was full. - </p> - <p> - They did not have the red chair for the bride. The consensus of opinion - was against it. “It was given up now by the best people in Peking. They - generally had carriages. And anyhow it was a ridiculous expense.” So it - was deeided that the bride should walk. The church was only a - stone's-throw from the schoolhouse where she lived. The bridegroom stood - at the door on the men's side of the church, a tall, stalwart Chinaman, - with his blaek hair sleek and oiled and cut short after the modern - fashion. He was suitably clad in black silk. He reminded me of “William,” - a doll of my childhood who was dressed in the remains of an old silk - umbrella—this is saying nothing against the bridegroom, for - “William” was an eminently superior doll, and always looked his very best - if a little smug occasionally. But if a gentleman who has attained to the - proud position of laundryman and evangelist, and is marrying the girl he - has himself at great expense educated for the position, has not a right to - look a little smug, I don't know who has. Beside him stood his special - friend, the chief Chinese evangelist, who had himself been married four - months before. At the organ sat the American doctor's pretty young wife, - and as the word was passed, “The bride is coming!” she struck up the - wedding march, and all the women's eyes turned to the women's door, while - the men, who would not commit such a breach of decorum as to look, stared - steadily ahead. - </p> - <p> - But the wedding march had been played over and over again before she did - come, resplendent and veiled, after the foreign fashion, in white mosquito - netting, with pink and blue flowers in her hair, and another bunch in her - hand. The bridegroom had wished her to wear silk on this great occasion, - so he had hired the clothes, a green silk skirt and a bronze satin brocade - coat. - </p> - <p> - A model of Chinese decorum was that bride. Her head under the white veil - was bent, her eyes were glued to the ground, and not a muscle of her body - moved as she progressed very slowly forward. Presumably she did put one - foot before the other, but she had the appearance of an automaton in the - hands of the women on either side—her mother, a stooping little old - woman, and a tall young woman in a bright blue brocade, the wife of the - bridegroom's special friend. Each grasped her by an arm just above the - elbow and apparently propelled her up the aisle as if she were on wheels. - Up the opposite aisle came the bridegroom, also with his head bent and his - eyes glued to the ground and propelled forward in the same manner by his - friend. - </p> - <p> - They met, those two who had never met face to face before, before the - minister, and he performed the short marriage ceremony, and as he said the - closing words the Chinese evangelist became Master of Ceremonies. - </p> - <p> - “The bridegroom and bride,” said he, “'will bow to each other once in the - new style.” - </p> - <p> - The bride and groom standing before the minister bowed deeply to each - other in the new style. - </p> - <p> - “They will bow a second time,” and they bowed again. - </p> - <p> - “They will bow a third time,” and once more they bowed low. - </p> - <p> - “They will now bow to the minister,” and they turned like well-drilled - soldiers and bowed to the white-haired man who had married them. - </p> - <p> - “They will now bow to the audience,” and they faced the people and bowed - deeply, and everybody in that congregation rose and returned the - salutation. - </p> - <p> - “And now the audience will bow to the bride and bridegroom,” and with - right good will the congregation, Chinese and the two or three foreigners, - rose and saluted the newly married couple, also I presume in the new - style. - </p> - <p> - It was over, and to the strains of the wedding march they left the church, - actually together, by way of the women's entrance. But the bride was not - on the groom's arm. That would not have been in accord with Chinese ideas. - The bridegroom marched a little ahead, propelled forward by his friend, as - if he had no means of volition of his own—again I thought of - “William,” long since departed and forgotten till this moment—and - behind came the new wife, thrust forward in the same manner, still with - her eyes on the floor and every muscle stiff as if she too had been a - doll. - </p> - <p> - “All the world loves a lover,” but in China, the land of ceremonies, there - are no lovers. This man had gone further than most men in the wooing of - his wife, and they were beginning life together with very fair chances of - success. But even so the girl might not hope for a home of her own. - </p> - <p> - That would have been most unseemly. The evangelist laundryman had not a - mother, but his only sister was taking the place of mother-in-law, and he - and his bride would live with her and her husband. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0099.jpg" alt="0099 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0099.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0100.jpg" alt="0100 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0100.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - The wedding I attended in Fen Chou Fu was quite a different affair. It was - spring, or perhaps I should say early summer, the streets through which we - drove to the old house of one of the Ming princes where dwelt the - bridegroom with his mother were thick with dust, and the sun blazed down - on us. The bridegroom belonged to a respectable well-to-do trading family, - and he wanted a Christian wife because he himself is an active member of - the church, but the Christian church at Fen Chou Fu has been bachelor so - long, and the division between the sexes is so strait, that there are - about fifty available girls to between eight and nine hundred young men, - therefore he had to take what he could get, and what he could get was a - pagan little girl about eighteen, for whom he paid thirty Mexican dollars, - roughly a little under three pounds. I, a Greek, who do not care much what - any man's religion is so long as he live a decent life, understand the - desire of that man for a Christian wife, for that means here in the - interior that she will have received a little education, will be able to - read and write and do arithmetic, and will know something of cleanliness - and hygiene. - </p> - <p> - The great day arrived, and the missionaries and I were invited to the - bridegroom's house for the ceremony and the feast that was to follow. The - entertainment began about eight o'clock in the morning, but we arrived a - little after noon, and we two women, Miss Grace Maccomaughey and I, were - ushered through the courtyards till we came to the interior one, which was - crowded with all manner of folks, some in festive array, some servants in - the ordinary blue of the country, and some beggars in rags who were - anticipating the scraps that fall from the rich man's table, and were - having tea and cake already. Overhead the sky was shut out by all manner - of flags and banners with inscriptions in Chinese characters upon them, - and once inside, we made our way towards the house through a pressing - crowd. Opposite the place that perhaps answered for a front door was a - table draped in red, the colour of joy, and on the table were two long - square candles of red wax with Chinese characters in gold upon them. They - were warranted to burn a day and a night, and between them was a pretty - dwarf plant quaintly gnarled and bearing innumerable white flowers. That - table was artistic and pretty, but to its left was a great pile of coal, - and, beside the coal, a stove and a long table at which a man, blue-clad, - shaven and with a queue, was busy preparing the feast within sight of all. - I could have wished the signs of hospitality had not been so much in - evidence, for I could quite believe that cook had not been washed since he - was three days old, and under the table was a large earthenware bowl full - of extremely dirty water in which were being washed the bowls we would - presently use. - </p> - <p> - Out came the women of the household to greet us and conduct us to the - bridal chamber, dark and draped with red and without any air to speak of. - It was crowded to suffocation with women in gala costumes, with bands of - black satin embroidered in flowers upon their heads, gay coats and loose - trousers, smiling faces and the tiny feet of all Shansi. It was quite a - relief to sit down on the <i>k'ang</i> opposite to a stout and cheerful - old lady with a beaming face who looked like a well-to-do farmer's wife. - She was a childless widow, however, but she had attained to the proud - position of Bible-woman, receiving a salary of four Mexican dollars a - month, and consequently had a position and station of her own. In my - experience there is nothing like being sure of one's own importance in the - world. It is certainly conducive to happiness. I know the missionaries, - bless them! would say I am taking a wrong view, but whatever the reason at - the back of it all, to them is the honour of that happy, - comfortable-looking Bible-woman. And there are so few happy-looking women - in China! - </p> - <p> - We sat on the <i>k'ang</i> and waited for the bride, and we discoursed. My - feet—I never can tuck them under me—clad in good substantial - leather, looked very large beside the tiny ones around me, for even the - Bible-woman's had been bound in her youth, and of course, though they were - unbound now, the broken bones could never come straight, and the-flesh - could not grow between the heel and the toes. She looked at my feet and I - laughed, and she said sententiously, like a true Chinese: - </p> - <p> - “The larger the feet the happier the woman.” - </p> - <p> - I asked did it hurt when hers were bound. - </p> - <p> - “It hurt like anything,” translated the missionary girl beside me, “but it - is all right now.” - </p> - <p> - The bride was long in coming, and shortly after four we heard the gongs - and music and crackers that heralded her arrival, and we all went out to - greet her, or rather to stare at her. First came the bridegroom, and that - well-to-do tradesman was a sight worth coming out to see. He wore a most - respectable black satin jacket and a very pretty blue silk petticoat; - round his neck and crossed on his breast was a sash of orange-red silk, - set off with a flaring magenta artificial chrysanthemum of no mean - proportions, and on his head, and somewhat too small for him, was—a - rare headgear in China—a hard black felt hat. From the brim of that, - on either side, rose a wire archway across the crown, on which were strung - ornaments of brass, and I am bound to say that the whole effect was - striking. - </p> - <p> - Before the bride came in to be married, out went two women to lift her - veil and smear her face with onion. They explained that the bridegroom's - mother should do this, but the fortune-teller had informed them that these - two women would be antagonistic—which I think I could have foretold - without the aid of any fortune-teller—therefore the rite was deputed - to two other women, one of whom was the kindergarten teacher at the - sehool. Then, with the teacher on one side and a lucky woman with husband - and children living on the other, down through the crowd came the little - bride to her marriage. She was clad in a red robe, much embroidered, which - entirely hid her figure, so that whether she were fat or slim it was - impossible to see, on her head was a brazen crown entirely covering it, - and over her face was a veil of thick bright red silk. She could neither - see nor be seen. Her feet were the tiniest I have ever seen, they looked - about suitable for a baby of twelve months old. The tiny red shoes were - decorated with little green tassels at the pointed toe and had little baby - high heels, and though they say these feet were probably false, the real - ones must have been wonderfully small if they were hidden in the manifold - red bandages that purported to make the slender red ankles neat. - </p> - <p> - Bride and bridegroom took their places in front of the minister, in front - of the plant and alongside the coals, and it made my back ache to think of - keeping any being standing for above a second on such feet. The service - began, all in Chinese, of course, though the officiating minister was an - American, a couple of hymns were sung, and the audience laughed aloud - because she was married by her baby name, her mother having omitted to - provide her with another. - </p> - <p> - The good woman had yearned for a son so she had called this girl “Lead a - brother.” - </p> - <p> - Half-way through the ceremony the bridegroom lifted the veil. He gave it a - hurried snatch, as if it were a matter of no moment, and hung it on one of - the projections of the brazen crown, and then he and we saw the bride's - face for the first time. They had done their best to spoil her beauty with - carmine paint, but she had a nice little nose and a sweet little quivering - mouth that was very lovable, and I think the bridegroom, though he never - moved a muscle, must have been pleased with his bargain. - </p> - <p> - When the service was ended, she and we, the principal guests, went back to - the <i>k'ang</i> in the bride chamber; her crown and outer red robe were - taken off, all in public, and a small square box containing some of her - trousseau was brought in, and every woman and child there in that stuffy - little room dived into it and hauled out the silks and embroideries and - little shoes and made audible comments on them. - </p> - <p> - “H'm! it's only sham silk,” said one. - </p> - <p> - “How old are you, new bride?” asked another. - </p> - <p> - “She's not much to look at,” said a third, which was a shame, for with the - paint washed off she must have been pretty though tired-looking. - </p> - <p> - It was five o'clock before we went to the feast, all the women together, - and all the men together, four or five at a table, and the bridegroom, - without the absurd headgear, and his mother, in sober blue silk, came - round at intervals and exhorted us to eat plenty. - </p> - <p> - We had one little saucer each, a pair of chopsticks and a china spoon such - as that with which my grandmother used to ladle out her tea, and they - served for all the courses. It was lucky I had had nothing since seven in - the morning, or I might not have felt equal to eating after I had seen the - cooking and the washing-up arrangements. As it was, I was hungry enough - not to worry over trifles. After she had sucked them audibly, my friend - the Bible-woman helped me with her own chopsticks, and I managed to put up - with that too. I tried a little wine. It was served in little bowls not as - large as a very small salt-cellar, literally in thimblefuls, but one was - too much for me. It tasted of fiery spirit and earth, and I felt my - companion was not denying herself much when she proclaimed herself a - teetotaller. What we ate heaven only knows, but much to my surprise I - found it very good. Chinese when they have the opportunity are excellent - cooks. - </p> - <p> - The bride sat throughout the feast on the <i>k'ang</i>, her hands—three - of her finger-nails were shielded with long silver shields—hidden - under her lavender jacket and her plate piled before her, though etiquette - required that she should refuse all food. They chaffed her and laughed at - her, but she sat there with downcast eyes like a graven image. After the - feast two or three men friends of the bridegroom were brought in, and to - every one she had to rise and make an obeisance, and though the men and - women hardly looked at or spoke to each other, it was evident that she was - for this occasion a thing to be commented on, inspected and laughed at. - She was bearing it very well, poor little girl, when Kan T'ai T'ai's cart—I - was Kan T'ai T'ai—was announced, and we went home through the - streets as the shades of evening were falling. I had fed bountifully and - well, but the dissipation had worn me out, the airlessness of the rooms - was terrible, and even the dust-laden air of the narrow street I drew into - my lungs with a sigh of deep thankfulness. It was good to be in the free - air again. Better still to remember, however I had railed against my fate - at times, nothing that could ever happen to me would be quite as bad as - the fate of the average Chinese woman. - </p> - <p> - However, a new life was beginning for this girl in more ways than one. The - bridegroom was going back to his business, that of a photographer in T'ai - Yuan Fu, leaving his wife with his mother. She was to be sent to the - school for married women opened by the missionaries, and, of course, her - feet were to be unbound. Probably, I hope I do not do him an injustice, - the bridegroom would not have objected to bound feet, but he did want an - educated mother for his children, and the missionaries will take no woman - with bound feet. They will do the best they can to retrieve the damage - done, though she can never hope to be anything but a maimed cripple, but - at least she in the future will be free from pain, into her darkened life - will come a little knowledge and a little light, and certainly her - daughters will have a happier life and a brighter outlook. - </p> - <p> - Missions in China, if they are to do any good, are necessarily - patriarchal. They look after their converts from the cradle to the grave. - The kindergarten run by a Chinese girl under the maternal eye of young - Miss Grace Maccomaughey was quite a pretty sight, with all the little tots - in their quaint dresses of many colours and their hair done or their heads - shaved in the absurd fashion which seems good to the proud Chinese parents—for - Chinese parents are both proud and tender and loving, though their ways - seem strange to us. But babies all the world over, yellow or black or - white, are all lovable, and these babies at the kindergarten were - delicious. - </p> - <p> - “Beloved guest, beloved guest,” they sang in chorus when I came in and - they were told to greet me. “Peace to thee, peace to thee.” - </p> - <p> - And “Lao T'ai T'ai” they used to address me in shrill little voices as I - went about the compound. Lao T'ai T'ai (I shouldn't like to swear I'd - spelled it properly) means “Old lady”—that is, a woman of venerable - years who is rich enough to keep a servant—and it was the first time - in my life I had been so addressed, so I looked in the glass to see if I - had developed grey hair or wrinkles—riding on a mule-pack would be - enough to excuse anything—and then I remembered that if in doubt in - China it is erring on the side of courtesy to consider your acquaintance - old. I dare say to the children I was old. I remember as a very little - girl a maiden aunt asking me how old I thought her, and I, knowing she was - older than my mother, felt she must be quite tottery and suggested in all - good faith she might be about ninety. I believe the lady had just attained - her five and thirtieth year, and prided herself upon her youthful - appearance. At any rate her attitude on this occasion taught me when - guessing an age it is better to understate than to overestimate. At least - in the West. Here in the East I was “Old lady” by courtesy. - </p> - <p> - And they begin the important things of life early in China. At the - kindergarten there were two little tots, a boy and a girl, engaged to be - married. The boy was the son of one of the mission cooks and the girl was - the daughter of his wife. He, a widower, sought a wife to look after his - little boy, and he got this young widow cheap. Her price was thirty <i>tiaous</i>—that - is, a little over one pound—and at first he said it was too much and - he could not afford it, but when he heard she had a little girl he changed - his mind and scraped together the money, for the child could be betrothed - to his little son and save the expense of a wife later on. - </p> - <p> - They were a quaint little pair, both in coats and trousers, shabby and - old, evidently the children of poor people, and both with their heads - shaven save for a tuft of hair here and there. The boy had his tufts cut - short, while the girl's were allowed to grow as long as they would and - were twisted into a plait. Such a happy little couple they were, always - together, and in the games at the kindergarten when they had to pair these - little ones always chose each other. Possibly the new wife in the home was - a wise and discreet woman. She might be glad too at the thought that she - need not part with her daughter. Anyhow I should think that in Fen Chou Fu - in the future there would be one married couple between whom the sincerest - affection will exist. - </p> - <p> - I suppose Chinese husbands and wives are fond of each other occasionally, - but the Chinaman looks upon wedded life from quite a different point of - view from the Westerner. I remember hearing about a new-made widow who - came to sympathise with a missionary recovering from a long illness. She - was properly thanked, and then the missionary in her turn said in the - vernacular: - </p> - <p> - “And you too have suffered a bitterness. I am sorry.” - </p> - <p> - “I?” incredulously, as much as to say, Who could think I had a sorrow? - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes. You have lost your husband, haven't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Call that a bitterness?” smiled the relict cheerfully, and her would-be - consoler felt the ground cut away beneath her feet. - </p> - <p> - But perhaps that sympathiser was not quite as much dismayed as another - lady who offered her condolences upon a similar occasion. The new-made - widow was a gay old thing, and she remarked blandly, with a toss of her - head: - </p> - <p> - “All, we don't worry about things like that when we've got the Gospel!” - which left that well-meaning teacher a little uncertain as to whether she - had instructed her in the doctrines of her new faith quite correctly. - </p> - <p> - Fen Chou Fu is a town that lends itself to reform, that asks for it. When - I was there they had a magistrate who had been educated in Japan and was - ready to back any measures for the good of the town. He was too much - imbued with the spirit of modern thought to be a Christian, but he was - full of admiration for many of the measures advocated by these - enthusiastic young people from Oberlin College. There is a large - Government school here—you may see the courtyards with their lily - ponds and bridges from the wall—that has been in existence for - hundreds of years, and this magistrate appealed to the missionaries to - take it over and institute their modern methods. They might even, so he - said, teach their own faith there. The only thing that stood in the way - was want of funds, for though the school was endowed, money has still a - way of sticking to the hands through which it passes in China. The - missionaries were rather inclined, I think, to have hopes of his - conversion, but I do not think it is very easy to convert the broad-minded - man who sees the good in all creeds. This magistrate was anxious to help - his people sunk in ignorance and was wise enough to use every means that - came in his way, for he knows, knowing his own people, you will never - Westernise a Chinaman. He will take all that is good—or bad—in - the West that appeals to him, and he will mould it in his own way. This - magistrate was building an industrial school for criminal boys close to - the mission station and, more progressive than the West itself, he allowed - his wife to sit on the bench beside him and try and sentence women proved - guilty of crime. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—“MISERERE DOMINE!” - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s I have said more - than once, it seems to me the most intolerable thing in life would be to - be a Chinese woman. I remember when first I began to write about China I - asked a friend of mine to look over my work and he objected to my making - such a fuss about the condition of the women. - </p> - <p> - “Why, people will think you are a suffragette!” said he, searching for - some term of obloquy that he felt could not possibly apply to me. - </p> - <p> - But I am a suffragist, an ardent suffragist, realising that a woman is - most valuable neither as an angel nor as a slave, but as a useful citizen, - and I saw then that he possibly knew little about the condition of his own - women, and probably absolutely nothing at all about the condition of the - women of the race who swarmed around him. Those he met would be dumb, and - at any rate no right-minded woman begins upon her wrongs to a stranger. In - any country it would be bad taste, in China no words can tell what - shocking bad taste. I had to seek further afield for my information, and I - got it from the medical missions. Now I went to China with a strong - prejudice against missionaries, and I found there many people who backed - me up. And then it occurred to me that I had better go to a mission - station and see what manner of people were these I was judging so hastily - and so finally. - </p> - <p> - I went. And what I saw made me sorry that Great Britain and America, to - say nothing of Scandinavia, should be deprived of the services of these - men and women who are giving so much to an alien people. Of course I know - that many missionaries have the “call,” a “vocation” I suppose the - Catholics would call it. - </p> - <p> - “It is a fine work,” said I, usually the unadmiring, “to teach these - women, but I do not like coming in contact with them, however much I - appreciate their virtues.” - </p> - <p> - And the missionary girl looked at me pityingly. - </p> - <p> - “Do you think,” said she, “we could come all this way to teach Chinese - women reading, writing and arithmetic?” - </p> - <p> - It seems to me a great thing to do; if it be only to teach them to wash, - it is a great thing; but I who merely pitied would never have stayed there - to better the condition of those unhappy women. To her and her comrades - had come that mysterious call that comes to all peoples through all the - ages, the Crying in the Wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make - His paths straight,” and she thought more, far more, of it than I did of - the undoubtedly good work I saw she was doing, saw as I never should have - seen had I not gone in the ways untrodden by the tourist, or indeed by any - white man. - </p> - <p> - There are missionaries and missionaries, of course; there are even - backsliders who, having learned the difficult tongue under the ægis of the - missions, have taken up curio-buying or any other of the mercantile - careers that loom so temptingly before the man who knows China; but in all - classes of society there are backsliders, the great majority must not be - judged by them. Neither must their narrowness be laid too mueh to heart - when judging the missionary as a whole. Possibly only a fanatic can carry - through whole-heartedly the work of a missionary at a remote station in - China, and most fanatics are narrow. There are, too, the men and women who - make it a business and a livelihood, who reckon they have house and income - and position and servants in return for their services to the heathen, but - they too are faithful and carry out their contracts. Having once seen the - misery and poverty in which the great majority of Chinese dwell, I can say - honestly that I think every mission station that I have seen is a centre - from which radiates at least a hope of better things. They raise the - standard of living, and though I care not what god a man worships, and - cannot understand how any man can be brought to care, it is good that to - these people sitting in darkness someone should point out that behind the - world lies a great Force, God, Love, call it what you will, that is - working for good. That the more educated Chinese has worked out a faith - for himself, just as many in the West have done, I grant you, but still - the majority of the people that I have seen sit in darkness and want help. - From the missions they get it. Taken by and large, the Chinaman is a - utilitarian person, and if the missions had not been helpful they would - long ago have gone. And for the missionaries themselves—I speak of - those in the outstations—not one, it seems to me, not one would stay - among the Chinese unless he were sure that his God had sent him, for the - life is hard, even for the rich missions there are many deprivations, and - if therefore, being but human, they sometimes depict their God as merciful - and loving in a way that seems small and petty, much must be forgiven - them. They are doing their best. - </p> - <p> - There is another side to it too for the West. These missionaries are - conquering China by the system of peaceful penetration. They are - persecuted, they suffer, are murdered often, but that does not drive them - away. They come back again and again, and wherever the missionary succeeds - in planting his foot the hatred to foreigners and things foreign, strong - among the conservative Chinese, is weakened and finally broken down. China - is a rich country, she is invaluable to the nations of the earth for - purposes of trade, and though the missionary in many ways, if he were - asked, would oppose the coming of the white man, he certainly is the - pioneer. - </p> - <p> - China is trying to reform herself, but the process is slow, and it seems - to me in Shansi and in the parts of Chihli that I know it would be a long, - long while before the good percolated to the proletariat, the Babylonish - slaves, if it were not for the missionaries; and particularly do I admire - the medical missionaries, for China is one huge sore. - </p> - <p> - That is the word the woman doctor at Pao Ting Fu applied to it, and, - attending her clinic of a morning, I was inclined to agree with her. Life - is hard for everybody among the poor in China, but especially does it - press upon the women. They came there into the clean sun-lit room and the - reek of them went up to heaven—bald-headed, toothless old crones in - wadded coats out of which all semblance of colour had long since passed, - young girls and little children clad in the oldest of garments. There were - so many with ingrowing eyelashes that the doctor had one particular day - upon which she operated for this painful disfigurement, and she showed me - how, by making a little nick—I'm afraid I can't use proper surgical - terms—in the upper eyelid, she turned back the eyelashes and made - them grow in the direction they are intended to grow, and saved the - unfortunates' eyes. Why eyelashes should grow in in China I don't know. - Perhaps it is my ignorance, but I have never heard of their behaving in - such an unnatural fashion in any other part of the world, while in Pao - Ting Fu this ailment seemed to be as common as influenza in London. Then - there would be women with their mouths closed by sores, often so badly - they could only live by suction, and more than once a new mouth had to be - cut; there were cancerous growths—the woman depicted in the picture - had waited twenty years before she could arrange to come under one hundred - miles to the doctor—there were sores on the head, sores all over the - body, all, I suppose, including the ingrowing eyelashes, caused by - malnutrition, swollen glands, abscesses offensive and purulent, in fact in - that clinic were collected such an array of human woes, ghastly, horrible, - as well might make one wonder if the force behind all life could possibly - be anything but devilish and cruel. Wherein could the good be found? - Where? - </p> - <p> - And yet there was good. Among these women moved the nurses. They were - comely girls in blue coats and trousers, with their abundant black hair - smoothly drawn back, neat white stockings and the daintiest of little - shoes. Their delicate artistic hands used sponge and basin very capably, - they were the greatest contrast to their patients, and yet they were truly - Chinese, had sprung from the people to whom they now ministered, and one - of them, though it was hardly observable, had an artificial foot. So had - she suffered from foot-binding that her own had had to be amputated. - </p> - <p> - Probably most of the ailments there treated were preventable, but worst of - all were the bound feet and the ailments the women suffered from in - consequence. It is not good manners to speak about a woman's feet, and the - women themselves rarely refer to them, but naturally I was interested in - the custom, and whenever the doctor got a “good” bound foot, which - probably meant a very bad one, she sent over for me to come and see it. - Anyone who has once seen a bound foot will never forget it. It always - smelt abominably when first the bandages were taken off, and the first - thing the nurses did was to provide a square kerosene tin of hot water in - which to soak the foot well. - </p> - <p> - Well washed, the feet might be looked at. Shansi especially is the home of - the bound foot, most of the women have such small feet that they are - confined for the greater part of their lives to the <i>k'ang</i>. I - remember Dr Lewis in all seriousness saying that he thought on the whole a - Chinese woman was better without her feet. And I'm inclined to think he - was right. The toes, all except the big toe, are pressed back till they - touch the heel, the bandage is put on and drawn tighter and tighter every - day, and if the girl is healthy and big-boned, so much the worse for her. - No matter the size of the girl, the foot must conform to the one standard. - In Shansi when I was there the shoes were generally about four inches - long, and I have taken shoes of that length off a tall and strapping woman - who was tottering along with the aid of a stick. What she must have - suffered to get her feet to that size is too terrible to imagine. She must - have been suffering still for that matter. If the instep after the - tightest binding still sticks up the girl's marriage chances are seriously - interfered with, and then the mother or some feminine relative takes a - meat-chopper and breaks the bone till she can bind the foot small enough. - This information I got from the American lady who looks after the women in - the mission in Fen Chou Fu; and at T'ai Yuan Fu the sister in the women's - hospital added the gruesome detail that they sometimes pull off the little - girls' toe-nails so that they may not interfere with the binding! - </p> - <p> - And at the women's hospital at Pao Ting Fu I saw the finished product. The - big toe stuck straight out, red, possibly because of the soaking in hot - water—I never had courage to look at one unsoaked—and - ghastly-looking, the other toes were pressed back against the heel and the - heel went up and was exactly like the Cuban heels affected by smartly - dressed women, only this time it had been worked in flesh and blood. The - whole limb from the big toe to the knee was hard and immovable as stone. - If you press ordinary flesh anywhere it pits, just yields a little, not so - a Chinese woman's leg and foot. It is thin, perished, literally hard as - marble. Once having seen a foot unbound, it is a wonder to me that any - woman should walk at all. And yet they do. They hold out their arms and - walk, balancing themselves, and they use a stick. Sometimes they walk on - their heels, sometimes they try the toe, but once I realised what those - bandages concealed it was a painful and dreadful thing to me to see a - Chinese woman walking. In spite of the hardness of the flesh, or probably - because of it, they get bad corns on the spot upon which they balance, and - sores, very often tuberculous, eat into the foot. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0117.jpg" alt="0117 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0117.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0118.jpg" alt="0118 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0118.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - But the evil does not stop at the foot. In Shansi it seemed to me every - woman's face was marked with the marks of patient suffering. Travelling I - often got a glimpse of one peering out of a cart or litter at the - foreigner, and that face invariably was patient, pallid and worn, for - foot-binding brings no end of evils in its train. The doctor at Fen Chou - Fu declared that nine-tenths of the women who came to him for treatment - suffered from tuberculosis in some form or another, and this in a climate - that in the winter must outrival in dryness Davos Platts. Not a few, too, - develop spinal curvature low down in the back, and often because of the - displacement of the organs they die in child-birth. A missionary in one of - the little towns I passed through, a trained nurse, told me that when a - woman suffered from what she (the woman) called leg-waist pains—the - doctor called it osteomalacia—her case was hopeless, she could not - give birth to a child. Often this nurse had been called in to such cases, - and she could do nothing to help the suffering girl. She could only stand - by and see her die. I could well believe these tales of suffering. In Fen - Chou Fu and in Pao Ting Fu the women of the poorer classes freely walked - the streets, and their crippled condition was patent to all eyes. But in - some towns it is not considered seemly for any woman to be seen in the - streets. Some reason established this custom long ago: the reason passes, - but China is the most conservative of nations, and the custom remains. But - the reason for foot-binding is not very clear. There is something sexual - at the bottom of it, I believe, but why a sick and ailing woman should be - supposed to welcome the embraces of her lord more readily than one - abounding in health passes my understanding. Of course we remember that - not so very long ago, in the reign of Victoria, practically the delicate - woman who was always ailing was held up to universal admiration. Look at - the swooning heroines of Dickens and Thackeray. But let no man put the - compressed waist on the same plane as foot-binding. I have heard more than - one man do so, but I unhesitatingly affirm they are wrong. Foot-binding is - infinitely the worse crime. The pinched-in waist did not begin till the - girl was at least well on in her teens, and it was only the extreme cases—and - they did it of their own free will I presume—who kept up the - pressure always. There was always the night for rest, whereas the Chinese - women get no rest from torture. - </p> - <p> - The missionaries at Fen Chou Fu, being very anxious to improve the status - of the women, used to arrange to have lectures in their large hall to - women only, and they raked the country-side for important people to - address them on subjects that were, or rather that should be, of interest - to women. They were not supposed to have anything to do with religion, but - they discussed openly women's position, were told about hygiene and the - care of children, and the magistrate's wife, she who had been educated in - Japan, told them some home-truths about the position of women in China. - </p> - <p> - “American women,” said she on one occasion, “go out into the world and - help in the world's development. We Chinese stay at home and are dragged - along by the men. The time has come when we must learn better things.” - </p> - <p> - But I looked one day at over seventy women of the richer classes assembled - to listen to a young and enthusiastic Chinese with modern views on the - position of women and their equality with men. He was passionate, he was - eloquent, he was desperately in earnest, but it was very evident he spoke - to deaf ears. I do not think that any one of those women grasped, or cared - for that matter, what he was saying. In the heart of China woman is very - far from being the equal of man. These women were pets and toys, and they - came to the mission station probably because it was the fashionable form - of amusement just then, but they listened to what was being said with deaf - ears and minds incapable of understanding. They were gaily clad in silks - and satins, richly embroidered; their hair when it was abundant was oiled - and elaborately dressed and decorated with gold and silver pins, and when - it was scanty was hidden under embroidered silken bands; there was not a - skirt amongst them, that was left to the lecturer, their blue and green - and brilliant red trousers were rather narrow, their feet were of the very - tiniest even in Shansi, and their faces, worn and suffering under their - paint and powder, were vacant. Some of them had brought their babies, and - only when a child cried, and they cried fairly frequently, did those faces - light up. That was something they really did understand. - </p> - <p> - And yet that enthusiastic young scholar in his voluminous petticoats, with - his hair cut in the modern fashion, went on lecturing to them on the - rights of women, the position women ought to occupy! - </p> - <p> - But the position of women! Toys or slaves are they, toys and slaves have - been their mothers and their grandmothers since the days before the dawn - of history, and very, very slowly is the idea of the possibility of better - things percolating through to the masses in China. It will come, I - suppose, because already there are Government schools for women, though - they are few and far between, and in some places, so far has the desire - for freedom gone, the girls have banded themselves into societies, - declaring that rather than marry a man they have never seen they will - commit suicide, and more than one has taken her own life. But in the parts - of Shansi and Chihli where I was so much light has not yet penetrated. The - wife and mother has influence because any living thing with which we are - closely associated—even if it be but a little dog—must needs - influence us, but all the same the Chinese women are as a rule mere - chattels, dependent entirely upon their menfolk. Amongst the Chinese the - five happinesses are: old age, a son, riches, official position and a - moustache; so slight a thing is a woman that she does not come in in this - connection. - </p> - <p> - “As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far am I,” disdainfully - proclaimed a Chinese teacher, “above my wife.” And he only spoke as if - stating a self-evident fact, a thing that could not be questioned. “How - could she be my equal?” Just as I might have objected to being put on the - same plane as my mule or my little dog. Indeed I doubt very much whether - he gave the same consideration to his wife as I would do to my little dog, - who is much beloved. - </p> - <p> - This is not to say, of course, that the men don't consider the women. They - do. - </p> - <p> - I remember the gate-keeper at Pao Ting Fu mission paying up for his - daughter's schooling. He was a jovial old soul, so old that I was - surprised to hear he had a mother. - </p> - <p> - “Short am I?” said he cheerfully. “Short? Oh, that dollar and a half!” He - paused to consider the matter, then added: “And I was thinking about - borrowing a dollar from you. My mother's dying, and I want to buy her a - skirt! Must be prepared, you know!” - </p> - <p> - The old lady, said Miss Newton, had probably never owned such a luxury as - a skirt in her life, but that was her son's way of being good to her, for - the people have a proverb to the effect that the most important thing in - life is to be buried well, an idea that isn't entirely unknown in Western - and more enlightened lands. Poor old lady, whose one and only skirt came - to her to be buried in, or perhaps it would be taken off before she was - buried, for the Chinese are a careful people. I remember one frugal man - who celebrated the funeral of his mother and the marriage of his son at - the same time, so that the funeral baked meats did for the marriage feast, - and the same musicians did for both. The coffin, of heavy black wood, tall - as a mantelpiece, stood in the yard, with the eldest son and his wife clad - in white as mourners, and the rest of the company made merry in the house - over the bridal. It was the most exquisite piece of thrift, but the - Chinaman is <i>par excellence</i> an economist. - </p> - <p> - It was in Pao Ting Fu that I met the only woman who made open complaint - against the position of women, and she only did it because, poor thing, - she was driven to it. - </p> - <p> - She slipped through the mission compound gate while the gate-keeper was - looking the other way, a miserable, unkempt woman with roughened hair and - maimed feet. Her coat and trousers of the poorest blue cotton were old and - soiled, and the child she carried in her arms was naked save for a little - square of blue cotton tied round his body in front. She was simply a woman - of the people, deadly poor where all just escape starvation, young and - comely where many are unattractive, and she stood under the shade of the - trees watching eagerly the mission family and their guest at breakfast on - the porch! It was a June morning, the sunshine that would be too fierce - later on now at 7 a.m. was golden, and a gentle breeze just whispered - softly in the branches that China—even Pao Ting Fu—in the - early summer morning was a delightful place. - </p> - <p> - But eager watching eyes glued to every mouthful are distinctly - disquieting, and in China, the land of punctilious etiquette, are rude. - Besides, she had no business to be there, and the doctor's wife turned and - spoke to her. - </p> - <p> - “What custom is this?” said she, using the vernacular, “and how did you - get in here?” - </p> - <p> - “I ran past”—ran, save the mark, with those poor broken cramped feet—“when - the gate-keeper was not looking. And it's not a day's hunger I have. For - weeks when we have had a meal we have not known where the next was coming - from.” - </p> - <p> - “But you have a husband?” - </p> - <p> - “And he was rich,” assented the woman, “but he has gambled it all away.” - </p> - <p> - It was quite a likely story. Another woman working on the compound said it - was true. She had a bad husband—<i>hi yah!</i> a very bad husband. - He beat her, often he beat her. Sometimes perhaps it was her fault, - because she was bad-tempered. Who would not be bad-tempered with maimed - feet, an empty stomach and two little hungry children? But often he beat - her for no reason at all. And everyone knows that a Chinese husband has a - perfect right to beat his wife. That he refrains from so doing is an act - of grace on his part, but a woman of herself is merely his chattel. She - has no rights. - </p> - <p> - The hospital quilted bed-covers—<i>pel wos</i>, they called them—had - to be unripped and washed. The pay was twenty-five <i>t'ung tzus</i> a day - and keep yourself. One hundred and thirty <i>t'ung tzus</i> went to the - dollar, and 10-35 dollars went to the sovereign at that time, so that the - work could not be considered overpaid; but this was China, and the women - were apparently rising up out of the ground and clamouring for it. It was - evidently looked upon as quite a recreation to sit under the trees on the - grass in the mission compound and gossip and unpick quilts. The new - recruit joined them and spent a happy day, sure of food for herself and - her children for that day at least—not food perhaps such as we would - appreciate, but at least a sufficiency of millet porridge. - </p> - <p> - That day and the next she worked, and then on the third day at midday she - went away for her meal and did not come back till after two o'clock in the - afternoon. The doctor's wife was reproachful. - </p> - <p> - “You have been away for over three hours. Why is this?” - </p> - <p> - She was a true Chinese and found it difficult to give a direct answer. - </p> - <p> - “I have been talking to my mother,” said she, rousing wrath where she - might have gained sympathy. - </p> - <p> - “What excuse is this?” said the doctor's wife. “You go away, and when I - ask you why, you tell me you have been talking to your mother! Your mother - should have more sense than to keep you from your work!” - </p> - <p> - “But my husband has sold me!” protested the culprit and then we saw that - her face was swollen with crying; “and I am a young woman and I don't know - what to do when my husband sells me. He keeps the children and he sells - me, and Tsao, the man who has bought me, is a bad man,” and dropping down - to the ground she let the tears fall on to the work in her hands. - </p> - <p> - “I am young and so I don't know what to do.” It was the burden of her - song. It may be she is wailing still, for the story was unfinished when I - left. She was young and she didn't know what to do. She would not have - minded leaving her husband if only the man to whom she had been sold had - been a better man, but he bore a worse reputation if anything than her - husband, and ignorant, unlearned in all things of this world as she was, - she and the women round her knew exactly what her fate would be. Tsao - would sell her when he tired of her, and her next purchaser would do - likewise, and as she gets older and her white teeth decay and her bright - eyes fade and her comeliness wanes her money value will grow less and - less, and beating and starvation will be her portion till death comes as a - merciful release. But, as she kept repeating pathetically, she is young, - and death is the goal at the end of a weary, weary, heartbreaking road. - </p> - <p> - For her husband was quite within his rights. He could sell her. It may be, - of course, he will be swayed by public opinion, and public opinion is - against the disposing of a wife after this fashion. - </p> - <p> - “Let her complain to the official,” suggested my assurance. - </p> - <p> - But the wise women who knew rose up in horror at the depths of ignorance I - was disclosing. - </p> - <p> - “Go to the yamen and complain of her husband!” - </p> - <p> - It is no crime for a man to sell his wife, but it is a deadly crime for a - woman to speak evil of her husband! She was not yet handed over. All he - would have to do would be to deny it, and then she would be convicted of - this crime and to her other ills would be added the wrath of the official. - No, something better than that must be thought of. - </p> - <p> - She had been sold for a hundred <i>tiaou</i>—something under four - pounds—and when the money was paid she would have to go to her new - master, far away from all her friends. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Hi yah!</i>” said the other women. “What a bad man!” So public opinion - was against it! - </p> - <p> - It would do no good to buy her freedom unless the purchaser were prepared - to take upon himself the conduct of her future life. A woman must belong - to somebody in China; she is, except in very exceptional cases and among - the very advanced, considered incapable of guiding her own life, and pay - this and the man would still regard her as his wife and sell her again. - </p> - <p> - Then a woman wise with wisdom of the people arose. - </p> - <p> - “There is only one thing to be done,” said she; “you must pretend you know - nothing about it, and when Tsao comes, and you are sold, then make an - excuse and run to the yamen. It may be the official will help, for it is a - wicked thing.” - </p> - <p> - “Run to the yamen!” on feet on which she could just totter. But the wise - woman had taken that into consideration. - </p> - <p> - “Mark well the way so you may hide in the turnings.” - </p> - <p> - Such a forlorn, pitiful little hope! But with it she had to be content, - and that night she held her peace and pretended she did not know the fate - that hung over her, and when I left she was still ripping bed-covers with - the other women. She had had no hand in bringing about her own fate, for - she did not choose this man. She had never seen him till she was handed - over on her marriage day by her parents. - </p> - <p> - “What,” said the women at one place when a new missionary came to them, - “forty and not married! What freedom! How did you manage it! What good - fortune!” - </p> - <p> - In China there is no respectable word, so I am told, to denote a bachelor, - and there was almost never, at least under the old regime, such a thing as - an old maid. Every woman must belong to someone, and few and far between - are the families that can afford to keep unmarried daughters, so the women - regard as eminently fortunate those foreign women they come across, - missionary or otherwise, who are apparently free to guide their own lives. - </p> - <p> - Of course the average husband would no more think of selling his wife than - would an Englishman, but, unlike the Englishman, he knows that he has the - right to do so should he so please, even as he has the right of life and - death over her and his children. She is his chattel, to be faithful to her - would simply be foolishness. - </p> - <p> - They tell a story of an angry father found digging a hole in which he - proposed to bury his son alive. That son had been insolent, and it was a - terrible thing to have an insolent son. His mother wept, but to her tears - the father paid no heed. A stranger passed along and questioned the little - company, and finding in his heart pity for the woman and the lad, cast - about how he might help them. He did not set about it as we of the West - would have done. - </p> - <p> - He commiserated with the father. It was a terrible thing to have an - insolent son. Undoubtedly he deserved death. But it would be a bad thing - to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet. - </p> - <p> - That was provided for, said the irate parent. He had two other sons. - </p> - <p> - That was well! That was well! And of course they had sons? - </p> - <p> - No, they were young. They had no sons yet. - </p> - <p> - A-a-ah! And suppose anything happened by which they both should die? - </p> - <p> - The stranger let that sink in. He had struck the right chord. It would be - a terrible thing to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet—to - think that he by his own act—— - </p> - <p> - Chinese reasoning prevailed, and the son's life was spared. - </p> - <p> - And yet the Chinese are fond of their children and, according to their - lights, good to their wives. It is that under the patriarchal system - children and women—a woman is always a child, a very ignorant child - as a rule—have no rights. They are dependent upon the good will of - their owners. - </p> - <p> - And so the woman sitting waiting to see if her husband would complete the - bargain and sell her had no rights. She was just a chattel in the eye of - the law. And there was none to help. Miserere Domine! It was just possible - public opinion would save her. It was her only hope. Miserere Domine! - Miserere Domine! - </p> - <p> - In Fen Chou Fu the missionaries had started an adult school for women. - First it was started, as they themselves put it, to teach the Gospel, but - then wisely they extended it and taught reading, writing and arithmetic, - and very eager indeed were the pupils. It is only fair to say that very - often husbands, or possibly fathers-in-law—for a woman belongs to - the head of her husband's family, or at least owes allegiance to him—aided - and abetted in every way, and when necessary sent the pupils twenty and - thirty miles in carts and in litters from away in the mountains to attend. - One woman with four little children, all under five, with another coming, - was a most eager pupil. Her children were sent to the kindergarten, which - is in charge of a young Chinese teacher educated by the missionaries. - </p> - <p> - Again I do not say the Chinese are not doing something to ameliorate the - condition of their women. I can only speak of what I saw, and what I saw - was, here in Shansi, the wives of the most miserable peasants sunk in - ignorance and hardly able to crawl from the <i>k'angs</i> on which they - spent their lives. The men do the cooking because the women are incapable, - and the mortality among the children is terrible. A doctor told me that - very often he had attended a woman at the birth of her thirteenth or - fourteenth child and only one or two would be living! - </p> - <p> - I don't know how many wives or concubines a man is allowed. Only the first - one has any standing, and the number of the others is probably limited by - his means. I remember hearing of one man, a Mr Feng, who had just married - his second wife to another man because she was making his life too - miserable for him. This was the man's side of the story; I had heard the - woman's the last time. I wonder how the case is put on these occasions. - Does a man say he is parting with the lady with extreme regret because the - climate does not suit her, or because his first wife does not like her, or - because a sudden reverse of fortune has compelled him to reduce his - household? He surely would never have given the real reason. My friend Mr - Farrer waxes enthusiastic over things Chinese, but I must say what I have - seen of their domestic life repels me, and I am rather inclined to agree - with a missionary of my acquaintance—a bachelor though—that it - would give nervous prostration to a brazen statue. - </p> - <p> - There can be little happiness where there is ignorance, and the majority - of the women of Shansi anyhow are the ignorant slaves of ignorant slaves. - Miserere Domine! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI—BY MOUNTAIN AND RIVER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>etting out on a - long journey by road, moving along slowly, at the rate of thirty miles a - day, I find I do not have the end in view in my mind all the time. I do - subconsciously, of course, or I would never get on at all, but I take a - point a couple of days ahead and concentrate on getting there. Having - arrived so far, I am so pleased with the performance I can concentrate on - the next couple of days ahead. So I pass on comfortably, with the - invigorating feeling of, something accomplished. - </p> - <p> - Fen Chou Fu, then, was one of my jumping-off places. - </p> - <p> - And at Fen Chou Fu my muleteers began to complain. Looked at from a - Western point of view, they ought to have complained long before, but - their complaint was not what I expected. They sent my interpreter to say - we were going the wrong way. This road would lead us out into a great bare - place of sand. When the wind blew it would raise the sand in great clouds - that would overwhelm us, and if the clouds gathered in the sky we should - not be able to see the sun, we would not know in which direction to go and - we should perish miserably. And having supplied me with this valuable and - sinister information they stood back to watch it sink in. - </p> - <p> - It didn't have the damping and depressing effect they doubtless expected. - To begin with, I couldn't believe in a Chinese sky where you couldn't see - the sun. The clouds might gather, but a few hours would suffice to - disperse them, in my experience, and as for losing ourselves in the sand—well, - I couldn't believe it possible. Always in China, where-ever I had been, - there had been plenty of people of whom to ask the way, and though every - man's radius was doubtless short, still at every yard there was somebody. - It was like an endless chain. - </p> - <p> - “Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang. - </p> - <p> - “Repeat, please,” said he, according to the approved formula. - </p> - <p> - “Won't they go?” I felt I had better have the matter clear. - </p> - <p> - “You say 'Go,' mus' go. You fear—you no go.” - </p> - <p> - If I feared and wouldn't go on, I grasped, the money I paid them would be - forfeit. - </p> - <p> - “But I must go. I am not afraid.” - </p> - <p> - “They say you go by Hsi An Fu. That be ploper.” And the listening - muleteers smiled at me blandly. - </p> - <p> - “But I cannot go by Hsi An Fu because of White Wolf.” I did not say that - also it would be going round two sides of a triangle because that would - not appeal to the Chinese mind. - </p> - <p> - “They not knowing White Wolf,” said Mr Wang, shaking his head. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I know White Wolf,” I said, departing a little from the truth, “and - I am going across the river to Sui Te Chou.” - </p> - <p> - “You say 'Go,'” said Mr Wang sorrowfully, “mus' go,” and he looked at the - muleteers, and the muleteers looked at him sorrowfully and went off the - verandah sorrowfully to prepare for the lonely road where there would be - no people of whom to ask the way, only sand and no sun. - </p> - <p> - There was plenty of sun when we started. It was a glorious summer morning - when my little caravan went out of the northern gate into the mountains - that threatened the town. It was unknown China now, China as she was in - the time of the Cæsars, further back still in the time of the Babylonish - kings, in the days before the first dynasty in Egypt. Out through the - northern gate we went, by the clay-walled northern suburb, past great - ash-heaps like little mountain ranges, the refuse of centuries, their - softly rounded sides now tinged with the green of springtime, and almost - at once my caravan was at the foot of the hills—hills carved into - terraces by the daily toil of thousands, but looking as if they had been - so carved by some giant hand. As we entered them as hills they promptly - disappeared, for the road was sunken, and high over our heads rose the - steep clay walls, shutting out all view save the bright strip of blue sky - above. - </p> - <p> - I here put it on record—I believe I have done it before, but it - really cannot be repeated too often—that as a conveyance a mule - litter leaves much to be desired. Sitting up there on my bedding among my - cushions, with James Buchanan beside me, I was much more comfortable than - I should have been in a Peking cart, but also I was much more helpless. A - driver did take charge of the Peking cart, but the gentleman who sometimes - led my mule litter more often felt that things were safer in the charge of - the big white mule in front, and when the way was extremely steep or rough - he abandoned it entirely to its discretion. The missionaries had told me - whenever I came to a bad place to be sure and get out, because the Chinese - mules are not surefooted enough to be always trusted. They are quite - likely at a bad place to slip and go over. This was a cheering reflection - when I found myself at the bad place abandoned to the tender mercies of - those animals. The mule in the lead certainly was a capable beast, but - again and again, as I told Mr Wang, I would have preferred that the - muleteers should not put quite so much faith in him. I learned to say - “B-r-rrr, b-r-r-rrr!” when I wanted him to stop, but I did not like to say - it often, because I felt in a critical moment I might seriously hamper him - to my own disadvantage. I told Mr Wang I was to be lifted out when we came - to bad places, but that too was hardly practicable, for we came to many - places that I certainly could not have negotiated on my own feet, and how - the mules got a cumbersome litter down or up them passes my understanding. - Thinking it over, the only advice I can give to anyone who wishes to - follow in my footsteps is to shut his eyes as I did and trust to the mule. - And we went down some places that were calculated to take the curl out of - my hair. - </p> - <p> - James Buchanan was a great comfort to me under these circumstances. He - nestled down beside me—he had recovered from his accident before we - left Fen Chou Fu—and he always assured me that everything would be - all right. One thing he utterly declined to do, and that was to walk with - the servants. I used to think it would be good for his health, but the - wisdom of the little Pekinese at the British American Tobacco Factory had - sunk in deep and he declined to trust himself with them unless I walked - too, when he was wild with delight. Put out by himself, he would raise a - pitiful wail. - </p> - <p> - “Buchanan declines,” Mr Wang would say sententiously, and he would be - lifted baek into the litter by my master of transport as if he were a - prince of the blood at least. And if anyone thinks I make an absurd fuss - about a little dog, I must remind him that I was entirely alone among an - alien people, and the little dog's affection meant a tremendous deal to - me. He took away all sense of loneliness. Looking back, I know now I could - not have gone on, this book would never have been written, if it had not - been for James Buchanan. - </p> - <p> - Roughly the way to the Yellow River is through a chain of mountains, - across a stony plateau in the centre of which is situated Yung Ning Chou, - quite a busy commercial city, and across another chain of mountains - through which the river forces its way. When first I entered the ditch in - the loess my objective was Yung Ning Chou. I looked no farther. I wanted - to get to that town in which seven Scandinavian missionaries in twenty - years had not effected a single convert. The cliffs frowned overhead, and - the effect to me was of wandering along an extremely stony way with many - pitfalls in it to the chiming of many mule bells and an unceasing shouting - of “<i>Ta, ta!</i>”—that is, “Beat, beat!”—a threat by which - the muleteer exhorts his animals to do their best. Generally speaking, I - couldn't see the man who had charge of me because he was some way behind - and the tilt shut him from my view. Except for knowing that he was - attending to his job and looking after me, I don't know that I pined to - look upon him. His appearance was calculated to make me feel I had not - wakened from a nightmare. Sometimes he wore a dirty rag over his head, but - just as often he went in his plain beauty unadorned—that is to say, - with all the front part of his head shaven and the back a mass of wild - coarse black hair standing out at all angles. They had cut off his queue - during the reforming fever at T'ai Yuan Fu and I presume he was doing the - best he could till it should grow again. Certainly it was an awe-inspiring - headpiece. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0135.jpg" alt="0135 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0135.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0136.jpg" alt="0136 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0136.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - And always we progressed to the clashing of bells, for on every possible - point on the trappings of the four mules and the donkey that made up the - caravan and on every available point on the harness of every mule and - donkey that passed us was a brass bell. For, for all my muleteers had - objected to going this way, it was a caravan route to the West, and it was - seldom we did not see someone on the road. Here in this ditch in the loess - I realised the stern necessity for these bells, for often the way was - narrow and when we could hear another caravan coming we could make - arrangements to pass or to allow them to pass. There were many caravans of - ragged camels, and to these my animals objected with all the spirit a life - on the roads had still left in them. When we met a string of them at close - quarters in the loess my white mule in the lead nearly had hysterics, and - his feelings were shared, so I judged by the behaviour of the litter, by - his companion behind, and they both endeavoured to commit suicide by - climbing the bank, having no respect whatever for my feelings. - </p> - <p> - On these occasions, with clenched teeth and concentrated energy, my - muleteer addressed himself to that leading mule: - </p> - <p> - “Now! Who's your mother? You may count yourself as dead!” - </p> - <p> - The mule evidently felt this was serious and made a desperate endeavour to - get a little higher, and his attendant became sarcastic. - </p> - <p> - “Call yourself a mule! Call yourself a lord, sir!” - </p> - <p> - By the jangling of the bells and the yells of the rest of the company I - knew that the other animals felt equally bad, and more than once I saw my - luckless interpreter, who evidently was not much of a hand at sitting on a - pack, ruefully picking himself up and shaking the dust from his person, - his mule having flung him as a protest against the polluting of the road - by a train of camels. - </p> - <p> - The camels march along with a very supercilious air, but mules, horses and - donkeys all fear them so much that there are special inns for them and - they are supposed only to travel by night, but this rule is more honoured, - I imagine, in the breach than in the observance. Most parts of the road I - don't see that any caravan could pass along at night. The special inns do - not present any difference to my unprejudiced eyes from the discomfort of - an ordinary mule and donkey inn. I stopped at one one day in the loess for - tiffin, and it consisted of a courtyard round which were rooms (<i>yaos</i>) - that were simply caves with the mouths bricked up and doors in them. - Inside, the caves were dark and airless, with for all furniture the - universal, <i>k'ang</i>; a fireplace is either in the middle or at one of - the ends, and the flues underneath carry the hot air under the <i>k'ang</i> - to warm it. I have never before or since seen such miserable - dwelling-places as these <i>yaos</i>, and in the loess country I saw - hundreds of them, inhabitated by thousands of people. Wu Ch'eng - particularly commended itself to my notice because here I first realised - that in expecting a room to myself I was asking too much of the country. - </p> - <p> - We crossed the mountain pass the first day out of Fen Chou Fu. Steep it - was, steep as the roof of a house, and we scrambled down the other side - and, just as the dusk was falling, we came to Wu Ch'eng, a village mostly - of <i>yaos</i> in the mountain-side. Wu Ch'eng, where hundreds of people - live and die, was short of most things that make life worth living: water - was very scarce indeed, and there were no eggs there. It was necessary - that our little company should move on with what speed we might. Also the - inn only had one room. - </p> - <p> - “The <i>k'ang</i> is large,” said my interpreter, as if he thought that a - woman who would come out on this journey would not mind sharing that <i>k'ang</i> - with all the other guests, the innkeeper and his servants. It was rather - large. I looked into an earthen cave the end of which, about thirty feet - away, I could hardly make out in the dim light. There were great cobwebs - hanging from the ceiling—dimly I saw them by the light that filtered - through the dirty paper that did duty for a window—and the high <i>k'ang</i> - occupied the whole length of the room, leaving a narrow passage with - hard-beaten earth for a floor about two feet wide between the <i>k'ang</i> - and the left-hand wall. It was about as uninviting a room as I have ever - seen. Also it was clearly impossible that Buchanan and I should turn out - the rest of the company, so I decreed that I should have it to myself for - half-an-hour for the purposes of washing and changing, for whieh privilege - I paid about twenty cash, roughly a ha'penny, and then we slept in the - litter, as we did on many other occasions, outside in the yard among the - donkeys and mules. The last thing I saw was the bright stars peeping down - at me, and the last thing I heard was the mules munching at their - well-earned chaff, and I wakened to the same stars and the same sounds, - for early retiring is conducive to early rising, and yet the muleteers - were always before me and were feeding their beasts. Always I went through - the same routine. I went to bed despairing and disgusted and a little - afraid. I slept like the dead, if I slept outside, and I wakened to watch - the sun rise and renew my hopes. - </p> - <p> - There are hundreds, probably thousands, of villages like Wu Ch'eng in - China. The winter in Shansi in the mountains is Arctic and no words can - describe what must be the sufferings of these people; especially must the - women suffer, for the poorest peasant binds his daughter's feet, his wife - can hardly crawl. In Chihli you may see the women tottering round on their - stumps grinding the corn, in Shansi lucky is the woman who can do so much. - The ordinary peasant woman is equal to nothing but a little needlework, if - she have anything to sew, or to making a little porridge, if she can do so - without moving off the <i>k'ang</i>. - </p> - <p> - The getting something for the men to cook must be a hard job. Potatoes are - sold singly, other vegetables are cut in halves or quarters, a fowl is - always sold by the joint. There may be people who do buy a whole fowl, but - they are probably millionaires. I suppose a whole section of a community - could not possibly exist on other folks' old clothes, but that is how the - people of this part of Shansi looked as if they were clothed. They had not - second-hand clothes or third-hand, they were apparently the remnants that - the third buyer could find no use for. - </p> - <p> - I shall never forget on one occasion seeing a ragged scarecrow bearing on - the end of a pole a dead dog, not even an ordinary dead dog, but one all - over sores, a most disgustingly diseased specimen. I asked Mr Wang what he - was carrying that dog away for and that young gentleman looked at me in - surprise. He would never get to the bottom of this foolish foreigner. - </p> - <p> - “For eat,” said he simply! - </p> - <p> - The people of the loess cannot afford to waste anything save the health of - their women. A dog, a wonk, shares the scavenging work of the Chinese - towns with the black and white crows, and doubtless the citizens do not - care so much for eating them as they would a nice juicy leg of mutton, but - they would no more throw away a wonk that had found life in a Chinese town - too hard and simply died than I would yesterday's leg of mutton in favour - of the tender chicken I prefer. - </p> - <p> - This, the first camel inn I particularly noticed, was not far from Fen - Chou Fu, and they told me how many years ago one of the medical - missionaries touring the country found there the innkeeper's wife with one - of her bound feet in a terrible condition. She had a little baby at her - breast and she was suffering horribly—the foot was gangrenous. The - doctor was troubled and puzzled as well. He had no appliances and no - drugs, but left as they were, mother and baby, already half starved, were - doomed. Therefore, like a brave man as he was, he took his courage in both - hands, made a saw of a piece of scrap iron from an American packing-case - and with this rude instrument and no anaesthetics he amputated that foot. - And the woman survived, lived to see her child grow up, was living when I - passed along that way, and I sat in her courtyard and had my tiffin of - hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice washed down by tea. It was her son's - courtyard then, possibly that very baby's whose life the missionary had - saved by saving his mother's. For the Chinese have no milch cows or goats - and know little about feeding infants artificially. - </p> - <p> - Always at midday the litter was lifted off the mules' backs, my table and - chair were produced from some recess among the packs, my blue cotton - tablecloth was spread and Tsai Chih Fu armed himself with a frying-pan in - which to warm the rice and offered it to me along with hard-boiled eggs of - dubious age. The excellent master of transport was a bad cook, and it is - not an exhilarating diet when it is served up three times a day for weeks - with unfailing regularity. I never grew so weary of anything in my life, - and occasionally I tried to vary it by buying little scones or cakes - peppered with sesame seed, but I'm bound to say they were all nasty. It - always seemed to me that an unfair amount of grit from the millstones had - got into the flour. Chinese are connoisseurs in their cooking, but not in - poor little villages in the mountains in Western Shansi, where they are - content if they can fill their starving stomachs. To judge Chinese taste - by the provisions of these mountaineers is as if we condemned the food of - London, having sampled only those shops where a steak pudding can be had - for fourpence. - </p> - <p> - And all these little inns, these underground inns, very often had the most - high-sounding names. “The Inn of Increasing Righteousness”—I hope it - was, there was certainly nothing else to recommend it; but the “Inn of Ten - Thousand Conveniences” really made the greatest claim upon my faith. The - Ritz or the Carlton could hardly have claimed more than this cave with the - hard-beaten earth for the floor of its one room and for all furnishing the - <i>k'ang</i> where landlord and guests slept in company. - </p> - <p> - Yet all these uncomfortable inns between Fen Chou Fu and Yung Ning Chou - were thronged. The roads outside were littered with the packs of the mules - and donkeys, and inside the courtyard all was bustle, watering and feeding - the animals and attending to the wants of the men, who apparently took - most of their refreshment out of little basins with chopsticks and when - they were very wealthy, or on great occasions, had tea without milk or - sugar—which, of course, is the proper way to drink it—out of - little handleless cups. I don't know that they had anything else to drink - except hot water. I certainly never saw them drinking anything - intoxicating, and I believe there are no public-houses in China proper. - </p> - <p> - Every now and then the way through the loess widened a little and there - was an archway with a tower above it and a crowded village behind. Always - the villages were crowded. There was very often one or perhaps two trees - shading the principal street, but other hints of garden or greenery there - were none. The shops—open stalls—were packed together. And in - these little villages it is all slum: there is no hint of country life, - and the street was full of people, ragged people, mostly men and children. - The men were in rags in all shades of blue, and blue worn and washed—at - least possibly the washing is doubtful, we will say worn only—to dun - dirt colour. It was not picturesque, but filthy, and the only hint of - luxury was a pipe a yard long with a very tiny bowl which when not in use - hung round their necks or stuck out behind from under their coats. Round - their necks too would be hung a tiny brass tobacco box with hieroglyphics - upon it which contained the evil-smelling compound they smoked. Sometimes - they were at work in their alfresco kitchens—never have I seen so - much cooking done in the open air—sometimes they were shoeing a - mule, sometimes waiting for customers for their cotton goods, or their - pottery ware, or their unappetising cooked stuff, and often they were - nursing babies, little blaek-eyed bundles of variegated dirty rags which - on inspection resolved themselves into a coat and trousers, whatever the - age or the sex of the baby. And never have I seen so many family men. The - Chinaman is a good father and is not ashamed to carry his baby. At least - so I judge. - </p> - <p> - Only occasionally was a woman or two to be seen, sitting on their - doorsteps gossiping in the sun or the shade, according to the temperature. - Men and women stared at the foreign woman with all their eyes, for - foreigners are rather like snow in June in these parts, and my coming made - me feel as if a menagerie had arrived in the villages so great and - interested were the crowds that assembled to look at and comment on me. - </p> - <p> - After we passed through the loess the track was up a winding ravine cut in - past ages by the agency of water. From five hundred to a thousand feet - above us towered the cliffs and at their feet trickled a tiny drain of - water, not ankle-deep, that must once have come down a mighty flood to cut - for itself such a way through the eternal hills. For this, unlike the road - through the loess, is a broad way where many caravans might find room. And - this trickle was the beginnings of a tributary to the Yellow River. Along - its winding banks lay the caravan route. - </p> - <p> - And many caravans were passing. No place in China is lonely. There were - strings of camels, ragged and losing their coats—second-hand goods, - Mark Twain calls them—there were strings of pack-mules and still - longer strings of little donkeys, and there were many men with bamboos - across their shoulders and loads slung from either end. Some of these men - had come from Peking and were bound for far Kansu, the other side of - Shensi; but as I went on fewer and fewer got the loads from Kansu, most of - them stopped at Yung Ning Chou, the last walled town of any size this side - of the river. Always, always through the loess, through the deep ravines, - across the mountain passes, across the rocky plateau right away to the - little mountain city was the stream coming and going, bearing Pekingese - and Cantonese goods into the mountains, and coming back laden with wheat, - which is the principal product of these places. - </p> - <p> - Ask the drivers where they were going, camel, mule or donkey, and the - answer was always the same, they were going east or west, which, of - course, we could see for ourselves. There was no possibility of going any - other way. Those in authority knew whither they were bound, but the - ignorant drivers knew nothing but the direction. At least that is one - explanation, the one I accepted at the time, afterwards I came to know it - is a breach of good manners to exhibit curiosity in China, and quite - likely my interpreter simply greeted the caravans and made his own answer - to my question. It satisfied or at least silenced me and saved my face. - </p> - <p> - One thing, however, grew more and more noticeable: the laden beasts were - coming east, going west the pack-saddles were empty. Fear was upon the - merchants and they would not send goods across the great river into - turbulent Shensi. - </p> - <p> - Already, so said my interpreter, and I judged the truth of his statement - by the empty pack-saddles, they were fearing to send goods into the - mountains at all. It was pleasant for me. I began to think. I had only - Buchanan to consult, and he had one great drawback, he always agreed that - what I thought was likely to be right. It is an attitude of mind that I - greatly commend in my friends and desire to encourage, but there are - occasions in life when a little perfectly disinterested advice would be - most acceptable, and that I could not get. Badly I wanted to cross Asia, - but I should not cross Asia if I were stopped by <i>tufeis</i>, which is - the local term for robbers. Were these rumours anything, or were they - manufactured by my interpreter? There were the warnings of the - missionaries, and there were the empty pack-saddles, and the empty - pack-saddles spoke loudly. Still I thought I might go on a little farther, - and James Buchanan encouraged me. - </p> - <p> - Truly the way to the great river through the mountains was hard. Taking - all the difficulties in the lump, it would seem impossible to overcome - them, but taking them one by one I managed it. And not the least of my - troubles were the dogs. - </p> - <p> - Here in the mountains was a very handsome breed of large white dogs with - long hair, at least I am sure they would have been handsome if they had - been well fed and well eared for. If it had not been for Buchanan, whose - heart it would have broken, I should certainly have got a puppy to bring - home with me. These dogs one and all waged war on my little friend, who - had a great idea of his own importance and probably aggravated the ill-fed - denizens of the inn-yards. He would go hectoring down a yard, head up, - white plume waving, with a sort of “Well, here we are! Now what have you - got to say for yourselves?” air about him, and in two seconds more a big - white scarecrow of a dog would have him by the neck, dragging him across - the yard, designing to slay him behind the drinking troughs. He would give - one shriek for help, and I would fly to that dog's head, catch him by the - ears or the ruff round his neck and be dragged along in my turn till Tsai - Chih Fu the resourceful appeared on the scene with a billet of wood, and - then the unfortunate beast would be banished from the yard or tied up till - we had gone. I remembered often the warning I had received on the subject - of hydrophobia, but I never had time to think of that till afterwards, - when, of course, if anything had happened it would have been too late. - </p> - <p> - There is one thing about a Chinese inn in the interior: it may be - exceedingly uncomfortable, but it is also exceedingly cheap. A night's - lodging as a rule costs forty cash. Eleven cash roughly is equal to a - cent, and a cent, again roughly—it depends upon the price of silver—is - a little less than a farthing. Forty cash, then, is hardly a penny. Hot - water costs eight cash, eggs were six cash apiece and so were the wheaten - scones I bought in place of the bread my servant could not make, and I - could buy those last as low as three cash apiece. Of course I quite - understand that I as a rich traveller paid top price for everything, - probably twice or three times as much as the ordinary traveller; the - missionaries, indeed, were shocked at the price I paid for eggs, and again - I was always rooked in the matter of paper. For even though I preferred - it, it often happened that it was impossible to sleep in my litter in the - yard, it was too crowded with beasts—and it had to be very crowded—and - then I stripped off the paper from the window of the room I occupied to - let in the air, just a little air, and I was charged accordingly from - thirty to eighty cash for my destructiveness. I found afterwards that a - whole sheet of new paper can be had for ten cash, and the paper I - destroyed was not half-a-sheet and was grimed with the dirt of ages! - Glass, of course, in the mountains of Shansi is almost unknown and the - windows are covered with white paper. - </p> - <p> - After the mountains came a high stony plateau, not dangerous but - difficult, for though this is a great trade route there was not an inch of - smooth roadway, every step had to be carefully picked among the stones, - and presently the stream that when we entered the mountains was a trickle - a hand's-breadth across was now a river meandering among the stones. We - began by stepping across it; wider it grew and there were stepping-stones - for the walking muleteers; then the mules waded and the muleteers climbed - on to the beasts or on to the front of the litter, which last proceeding - made me very uncomfortable, for I remembered my special man was likely at - most only to have been washed twice in his life, and I was very sure his - clothes had never been washed at all and probably had never been taken off - his back since last October. Finally we crossed by bridges, fairly - substantial bridges three planks wide, but the mules required a deal of - encouraging before they would trust them and always felt the boards - gingerly with their hoofs first as if they distrusted the Chinaman and all - his engineering works. The engineering was probably all right, but as the - state of repair often left much to be desired I could hardly blame the - mules for their caution. And one day we crossed that river twenty-six - times! - </p> - <p> - There is no charm in the country in Shansi beyond the sunshine and the - invigorating air. There were fields, every patch of land that could - possibly be made to grow a blade of wheat was most carefully tilled, there - was not a weed, not a blade of grass out of place. In some fields the - crops were springing green, in others the farmers were still ploughing, - with a patient ox in the plough; but there were no divisions between these - fields; there were no hedges; few and scanty trees; no gardens; no - farmhouses, picturesque or otherwise. The peasants all live huddled - together, literally in the hill-sides, and of the beauty of life there was - none. It was toil, toil without remission and with never a day off. Even - the blue sky and the sunshine and the invigorating dry air must be - discounted by the dirt and darkness and airlessness of the houses and the - underground <i>yaos</i>. The Chinese peasant's idea in building a house - seems to be to get rid of the light and the air, the only two things I - should have thought that make his life bearable. And in these dark and - airless caves the crippled women spend their days. The younger women—I - met them occasionally gaily clad and mounted on a donkey—looked - waxen and had an air of suffering, and the older were lined and had a look - of querulousness and irritability that was not on the men's faces. Many an - old man have I seen whose face might stand for a model of prosperous, - contented, peaceful old age looking back on a well-lived life, but never, - never have I seen such a look on a woman's face. - </p> - <p> - At last, after crossing a long bridge across the river, we came to Yung - Ning Chou. The dark grey wall stood out against the blue sky and, unlike - most Chinese cities that I have seen, there is no watch-tower over the - gate. It has suburbs, suburbs like Fen Chou Fu enclosed in crumbling clay - walls that are fast drifting to their inevitable end. They could not keep - out a rabbit now, let alone a man, and yet they are entered through great - brick gateways with a turn in them, and going under the archways I felt as - usual as if I had gone back to Biblical days. The walls of the city - proper, the crowded little city, are in better preservation, and tower - high above the caravans that pass round them, for there are no inns in - Yung Ning Chou and all caravans must stay in the eastern suburb. There are - narrow, stony little streets of houses pressed close together, and the - rough roadways are crowded with traffic: people, donkeys, laden mules and - grunting camels are for ever passing to and fro. Looking up the principal - street between the eastern and the western gate was like looking up a dark - tunnel in which fluttered various notices, the shop signs, Chinese - characters printed on white calico. Most of those signs, according to my - interpreter's translation, bore a strong resemblance to one another. - “Virtue and Abundance,” it seems they proclaimed to all who could read. - But there was no one to tell me whether there was really any wealth in - this little mountain city that is the same now as it probably was a - thousand years ago. I wondered, I could not help wondering, whether it - would be worth Pai Lang's while to attack. I wondered if he could get in - if he did, for the walls were high and the gates, rising up straight and - sheer without watch towers, such piles of masonry as might have been built - by conquering Nineveh or Babylon. Here and there, though, in the walls the - water had got under the clay and forced out the bricks in long deep - cracks, and here if they were not carefully guarded were places that an - invading force might storm, and in the suburbs and among the houses that - clustered close under the protecting walls terrible things might be done. - But the western gate, I should say, is well-nigh impregnable. Nobody but a - Chinaman would have built a gate in such a place. It opens out on to a - steep cliff that falls sheer sixty feet to the river below. Chinese towns - are always built symmetrically; there should be at least one gate in each - of the four walls, therefore a gate there is here. It seems to have - occurred to no one that a gate is placed in those walls for the - convenience of traffic, and that it is simple waste of time and labour to - make a gate in a place by which no one could possibly pass. For that - matter I should have thought a wall unnecessary on top of so steep a - cliff. - </p> - <p> - The Scandinavian missionaries who have faithfully worked Yung Ning Chou - for the last twenty years with so little result were absent when I passed - through. Only two of them live here, the rest are scattered over the - mountains to the north, and when I was in Fen Chou Fu I met a woman, a - Norwegian, who was on her way to join them. She remains in my mind a - pathetic figure of sacrifice, a wistful woman who was giving of her very - best and yet was haunted by the fear that all she was giving was of very - little worth, surely the most bitter and sorrowful reflection in this - world. She had worked in China as a missionary in her girlhood. She - explained to me how hard it was for these northern peoples, for to learn - Chinese they have first to learn English. Then she married, and after her - little girl was born her husband died and so she took her treasure home to - educate her in Norway. But she died and, feeling her duty was to the - Chinese, back came the lonely mother, and when I met her she was setting - out for the little walled city in the hills where she dwelt with some - other women. A strangely lonely life, devoid of all pleasures, theirs must - have been. I was struck with the little things that pleased this devoted - woman, such little things, and we who may enjoy them every day go calmly - on our way and never appreciate them. She wore the unbecoming Chinese - dress, with her white hair drawn baek from her face, and her blue eyes - looked out wistfully as if she were loath to give up hope that somewhere, - somehow, in the world individual happiness, that would be for her alone, - would come to her. During the revolution they, remembering the troubles - and dangers of the Boxer time, had refugeed in Tientsin, and the days - there were evidently marked with a white stone in her calendar. - </p> - <p> - “It was so delightful,” she said in her pretty precise English, “to see - the European children in the gardens.” - </p> - <p> - How her heart went out to those children. They reminded her, I suppose, of - the little girl she had left behind sleeping her last sleep among the - Norwegian mountains. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, the children!” she sighed. “It brought a lump in your throat to look - at them!” - </p> - <p> - It brought a lump in my throat to look at her as I saw her set out for her - home with two little black-eyed Chinese girls crowded in the litter beside - her. She was taking them home from the school at Fen Chou Fu. The - loneliness of her life! The sacrifice of it! I wonder if those three - women, shut away in that little walled town, made any converts. I doubt - it, for theirs, like the Yung Ning Chou mission, was purely a faith - mission. - </p> - <p> - Unmarried women and widows were these three women. The Yung Ning Chou - mission consists of four old bachelors and three old maids. Not for a - moment do I suppose the majority of the Chinese believe they are what they - are, men and women living the lives of ascetics, giving up all for their - faith, and the absence of children in child-loving China must seriously - handicap them in their efforts to spread their faith. Think of the weary - years of those workers toiling so hopelessly in an alien land among a poor - and alien population, whose first impulse is certainly to despise them. - All honour to those workers even though they have failed in their object - so far as human eye can see, and even though that object makes no appeal - to people like me. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0155.jpg" alt="0155 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0155.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0156.jpg" alt="0156 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0156.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0157.jpg" alt="0157 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0157.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - And I passed on through Yung Ning Chou, on across the stony plateau, and - at last, at a village called Liu Lin Chen, I was brought up with a sharp - turn with a tale of Pai Lang. - </p> - <p> - I was having my midday meal. Not that it was midday. It was four o'clock, - and I had breakfasted at 6 a.m.; but time is of no account in China. Liu - Lin Chen was the proper place at which to stop for the noonday rest, so we - did not stop till we arrived there, though the badness of the road had - delayed us. I was sitting in the inn-yard waiting for Tsai Chih Fu to - bring me the eternal hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice when Mr Wang came - up, accompanied by the two muleteers, and they—that is, the two - muleteers—dropped down to the ground and clamoured, so I made out - from his excited statements that the gates of Sui Te Chou had been closed - for the last four days on account of Pai Lang! And Sui Te Chou was the - first town I proposed to stop at after I crossed the river! If I would go - to Lan Chou Fu and on through Sin Kiang to the Russian border through Sui - Te Chou I must go. There was no other way. These days in the mountains had - shown me that to stray from the caravan road was an utter impossibility. - Had I been one of the country people conversant with the language I think - it would have been impossible. As it was, I had my choice. I might go on - or I might go back. Mr Wang apparently thought there should be no doubt in - my mind. He evidently expected I would turn tail there and then, and I - myself realised—I had been realising ever since round the table in - the mission station at Ki Hsien we had read Dr Edwards' letter—that - my journey across the continent was ended; but to turn tail in this - ignominious fashion, having seen nothing, within, I suppose, twenty-five - miles of the Yellow River, with the country about me as peaceful as the - road in Kent in which I live at present, how could I? It was more - peaceful, in fact, for now at night searchlights stream across the sky, - within a furlong of my house bombs have been dropped and men have been - killed, and by day and by night the house rocks as motors laden with - armament and instruments of war thunder past. But there in Shansi in the - fields the people worked diligently, in the village the archway over which - they held theatrical representations was placarded with notices, and in - the inn-yard where I sat the people went about attending to the animals as - if there was nothing to be feared. And I felt lonely, and James Buchanan - sat close beside me because at the other side of the very narrow yard a - great big white dog with a fierce face and a patch of mange on his side - looked at him threateningly. - </p> - <p> - “I'll have none of your drawing-room dogs here,” said he. - </p> - <p> - But Buchanan's difficulties were solved when he appealed to me. I—and - I was feeling it horribly—had no one to appeal to. I must rely upon - myself. - </p> - <p> - And then to add to my woes it began to rain, soft, gentle spring rain, - growing rain that must have been a godsend to the whole country-side. - </p> - <p> - It stopped, and Mr Wang and the muleteers looked at me anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “We will go on,” I said firmly, “to the Yellow River.” - </p> - <p> - Their faces fell. I could see the disappointment, but still I judged I - might go in safety so far. - </p> - <p> - “Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang. - </p> - <p> - “Repeat, please,” said he. So I repeated, and he said as he had said - before: - </p> - <p> - “If you say 'Go,' mus' go.” - </p> - <p> - And I said “Go.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—CHINA'S SORROW - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t is better, says - a Chinese proverb, “to hear about a thing than to see it,” and truly on - this journey I was much inclined to agree with that dictum. - </p> - <p> - We were bound for Hsieh Ts'un. I can't pronounce it, and I should not like - to swear to the spelling, but of one thing I am very sure, not one of the - inhabitants could spell it, or even know it was wrongly set forth to the - world, so I am fairly safe. - </p> - <p> - We went under the archway with the theatrical notices at Liu Lin Chen, - under the arched gateway of the village, out into the open country, and it - began to rain again. It came down not exactly in torrents but good steady - growing rain. The roads when they were not slippery stones were appalling - quagmires, and my mule litter always seemed to be overhanging a precipice - of some sort. I was not very comfortable when that precipice was only - twenty feet deep, when it was more I fervently wished that I had not come - to China. I wished it more than once, and it rained and it rained and it - rained, silent, soaking, penetrating rain, and I saw the picturesque - mountain country through a veil of mist. - </p> - <p> - Hsieh Ts'un is a little dirty straggling village, and as we entered it - through the usual archway with a watch tower above the setting sun broke - through the thick clouds and his golden rays strcamed down upon the - slippery wet cobblestones that paved the principal street. The golden - sunlight and the gorgeous rainbow glorified things a little, and they - needed glorifying. The principal inn, as usual, was a fairly large yard, - roughly paved, but swimming now in dirty water; there were stalls for - animals all round it, and there was a large empty shed where they stored - lime. It was stone-paved, and the roof leaked like a sieve, but here I - established myself, dodging as far as possible the holes in the roof and - drawing across the front of the shed my litter as a sort of protection, - for the inn, as usual with these mountain inns, had but one room. - </p> - <p> - It was cold, it was dirty, and I realised how scarce foreigners must be - when through the misty, soaking rain, which generally chokes off a - Chinaman, crowds came to stand round and stare at me. I was stationary, so - the women came, dirty, ragged, miserable-looking women, supporting - themselves with sticks and holding up their babies to look at the stranger - while she ate. By and by it grew so cold I felt I must really go to bed, - and I asked Mr Wang to put it to the crowd that it was not courteous to - stare at the foreign woman when she wished to be alone, and, O most - courtly folk! every single one of those people went away. - </p> - <p> - “You can have a bath,” said he, “no one will look”; and, all honour give I - to those poor peasants of Western Shansi, I was undisturbed. I am afraid a - lonely Chinese lady would hardly be received with such courtesy in an - English village were the cases reversed. - </p> - <p> - Next day the rain still teemed down. The fowls pecked about the yard, - drenched and dripping; a miserable, mangy, cream-coloured dog or two came - foraging for a dinner, and the people, holding wadded coats and oiled - paper over their heads, came to look again at the show that had come to - the town; but there was no break in the grey sky, and there was nothing to - do but sit there shivering with cold, writing letters on my little - travelling table and listening to my interpreter, who talked with the - innkeeper and brought me at intervals that gentleman's views on the doings - of Pai Lang. - </p> - <p> - Those views varied hour by hour. At first he was sure he was attacking Sui - Te Chou. That seemed to me sending the famous robber over the country too - quickly. Then it was <i>tufeis</i>—that is, bands of robbers—that - Sui Te Chou feared, and finally, boiled down, I came to the conclusion - that Sui Te Chou had probably shut her gates because the country round was - disturbed, and that she admitted no one who had not friends in the city or - could not in some way guarantee his good faith. It served to show me my - friends in Ki Hsien had been right, such disturbed country would be no - place for a woman alone. I suppose it was the rain and the grey skies, but - I must admit that day I was distinctly unhappy and more than a little - afraid. I was alone among an alien people, who only regarded me as a cheap - show; I had no one to take counsel with, my interpreter only irritated me - and, to add to my misery, I was very cold. I have seldom put in a longer - or more dreary day than I did at Hsieh Ts'un. There was absolutely nothing - to do but watch the misty rain, for if I went outside and got wetter than - I was already getting under the leaking roof—I wore my Burberry—I - had no possible means of drying my clothes save by laying them on the hot - <i>k'ang</i> in the solitary living-room of the inn, and that was already - inhabited by many humans and the parasites that preyed upon them. - Therefore I stayed where I was, compared my feet with the stumps of the - women who came to visit me—distinctly I was a woman's show—gave - the grubby little children raisins, and wondered if there was any fear of - Pai Lang coming along this way before I had time to turn back. If it kept - on raining, would my muleteers compel me to stay here till Pai Lang swept - down upon us? But no, that thought did not trouble me, first, because I - momentarily expected it to clear up, and secondly, because I was very sure - that any rain that kept me prisoner would also hold up Pai Lang. I could - not believe in a Chinaman, even a robber, going out in the rain if he - could help himself, any more than I could believe in it raining longer - than a day in China. - </p> - <p> - “The people are not afraid,” I said to my interpreter as I looked at a - worn old woman in a much-patched blue cotton smock and trousers, her head - protected from the rain by a wadded coat in the last stages of - decrepitude; her feet made me shiver, and her finger-nails made me crawl, - the odour that came from her was sickening, but she liked to see me write, - and I guessed she had had but few pleasures in her weary life. - </p> - <p> - “They not knowing yet,” said he; “only travellers know. They tell - innkeeper.” - </p> - <p> - Yes, certainly the travellers would know best. - </p> - <p> - And all day long he came, bringing me various reports, and said that, - according to the innkeeper, the last caravan that had passed through had - gone back on its tracks. I might have remembered it. I did remember it—a - long line of donkeys and mules. - </p> - <p> - But the day passed, and the night passed, and the next day the sun came - out warm and pleasant, and all my doubts were resolved. My journey was - broken beyond hope, and I must go back, but turn I would not till I had - looked upon the Yellow River. - </p> - <p> - We started with all our paraphernalia. We were to turn in our tracks after - tiffin, but Mr Wang and the muleteers were certain on that point, - everything I possessed must be dragged across the mountains if I hoped to - see it again, and I acquiesced, for I certainly felt until I got back to - civilisation I could not do without any of my belongings. - </p> - <p> - Almost immediately we left the village we began to ascend the mountain - pass. Steeper and steeper it grew, and at last the opening in my mule - litter was pointing straight up to the sky, and I, seeing there was - nothing else for it, demanded to be lifted out and signified my intention - of walking. - </p> - <p> - There was one thing against this and that was an attack of breathlessness. - Asthma always attacks me when I am tired or worried, and now, with a very - steep mountain to cross and no means of doing it except on my own feet, it - had its wicked way. My master of transport and Mr Wang, like perfectly - correct Chinese servants, each put a hand under my elbows, and with - Buchanan skirmishing around joyfully, rejoicing that for once his mistress - was sensible, the little procession started. It was hard work, very hard - work. When I could go no longer I sat down and waited till I felt equal to - starting again. On the one hand the mountain rose up sheer and steep, on - the other it dropped away into the gully beneath, only to rise again on - the other side. And yet in the most inaccessible places were patches of - cultivation and wheat growing. I cannot imagine how man or beast kept a - footing on such a slant, and how they ploughed and sowed it passes my - understanding. But most of the mountain-side was too much even for them, - and then they turned loose their flocks, meek cream-coloured sheep and - impudent black goats, to graze on the scanty mountain pastures. Of course - they were in charge of a shepherd, for there were no fences, and the newly - springing wheat must have been far more attractive than the scanty - mountain grasses. - </p> - <p> - And then I knew it was worth it all—the long trek from Fen Chou Fu, - the dreary day at Hsieh Ts'un, the still more dreary nights, this stiff - climb which took more breath than I had to spare—for the view when I - arrived at a point of vantage was beautiful. These were strange mountains. - The road before me rose at a very steep angle, and all around me were - hill-sides whereon only a goat or a sheep might find foothold, but the - general effect looked at from a distance was not of steepness. These were - not mountains, rugged, savage, grand, they were gentle hills and dales - that lay about me; I had come through them; there were more ahead; I could - see them range after range, softly rounded, green and brown and then blue, - beautiful for all there were no trees, in an atmosphere that was clear as - a mirror after the rain of the day before. Beautiful, beautiful, with a - tender entrancing loveliness, is that view over the country up in the - hills that hem in the Yellow River as it passes between Shansi and Shensi. - Is it possible there is never anyone to see it but these poor peasants who - wring a hard livelihood from the soil, and who for all their toil, which - lasts from daylight to dark all the year round, get from this rich soil - just enough wheaten flour to keep the life in them, a hovel to dwell in, - and a few unspeakable rags to cover their nakedness? As far as I could - see, everyone was desperately poor, and yet these hills hold coal and iron - in close proximity, wealth untold and unexploited. The pity of it! - Unexploited, the people are poor to the verge of starvation; worked, the - delicate loveliness of the country-side will vanish as the beauty of the - Black Country has vanished, and can we be sure that the peasant will - benefit? - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0166.jpg" alt="0166 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0166.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0167.jpg" alt="0167 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0167.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Still we went up and up, and the climbing of these gentle wooing hills I - found hard. Steep it was, and at last, just when I felt I could not - possibly go any farther, though the penalty were that I should turn back - almost within sight of the river, I found that the original makers of the - track had been of the same opinion, for here was the top of the pass with - a tunnel bored through it, a tunnel perhaps a hundred feet long, carefully - bricked, and when we, breathless and panting, walked through we came out - on a little plateau with a narrow road wandering down a mountain-side as - steep as the one we had just climbed. There was the most primitive of - restaurants here, and the woman in charge—it was a woman, and her - feet were not bound—proffered us a thin sort of drink like very - tasteless barley water. At least now I know it was tasteless, then I found - it was nectar, and I sat on a stone and drank it thankfully, gave not a - thought to the dirt of the bowl that contained it, and drew long breaths - and looked around me. - </p> - <p> - The hills rose up on either hand and away in the distance where they - opened out were the beautiful treeless hills of forbidden Shensi, just as - alluring, just as peaceful as the hills I had come through. It was worth - the long and toilsome journey, well worth even all my fears. - </p> - <p> - Then we went down, down, but I did not dare get into my litter, the way - was too steep, the chances of going over too great, for it seems the - Chinese never make a road if by any chance they can get along without. - They were driven to bore a tunnel through the mountains, but they never - smooth or take away rocks as long as, by taking a little care, an animal - can pass without the certainty of going over the cliff. - </p> - <p> - And at last through a cleft in the hills I saw one of the world's great - rivers and—was disappointed. The setting was ideal. The hills rose - up steep and rugged, real mountains, on either side, pheasants called, - rock-doves mourned, magpies chattered, overhead was a clear blue sky just - flecked here and there with fleecy clouds, beyond again were the mountains - of Shensi, the golden sunlight on their rounded tops, purple shadow in - their swelling folds, far away in the distance they melted blue into the - blue sky, close at hand they were green with the green of springtime, save - where the plough had just turned up patches of rich brown soil, and at - their foot rolled a muddy flood that looked neither decent water nor good - sound earth, the mighty Hoang-Ho, the Yellow River, China's sorrow. - China's sorrow indeed; for though here it was hemmed in by mountains, and - might not shift its bed, it looked as if it were carrying the soul of the - mountains away to the sea. - </p> - <p> - There is a temple where the gully opens on to the river, a temple and a - little village, and the temple was crowded with blue-clad, shabby-looking - soldiers who promptly swarmed round me and wanted to look in my baggage, - that heavy baggage we were hauling for safety over fourteen miles of - mountain road. Presumably they were seeking arms. We managed to persuade - them there were none, and that the loads contained nothing likely to - disturb the peace, and then we went down to the river, crossing by a - devious, rocky and unpleasant path simply reeking of human occupancy, and - the inhabitants of that soldier village crowded round me and examined - everything I wore and commented on everything I did. - </p> - <p> - They were there to guard the crossing; and far from me be it to say they - were not most efficient, but if so their looks belied them. They did not - even look toy soldiers. No man was in full uniform. Apparently they wore - odd bits, as if there were not enough clothes in the company to go round, - and they were one and all dirty, touzly, untidy, and all smiling and - friendly and good-tempered. I only picked them out from the surrounding - country people—who were certainly dirty and poverty-stricken enough - in all conscience—by the fact that the soldiers had abandoned the - queue which the people around, like all these country people, still - affect. The soldier wore his hair about four or five inches long, sticking - out at all angles, rusty-black, unkempt and uncombed, and whether he ran - to a cap or not, the result was equally unworkmanlike. - </p> - <p> - I conclude Chun Pu is not a very important crossing. What the road is like - on the Shensi side I do not know, but on the Shansi side I should think - the pass we had just crossed was a very effective safeguard. He would be a - bold leader who would venture to bring his men up that path in the face of - half-a-dozen armed men, and they need not be very bold men either. Those - soldiers did not look bold. They were kindly, though, and they had women - and children with them—I conclude their own, for they nursed the - grubby little children, all clad in grubby patches, very proudly, took - such good care they had a good view of the show—me—that I - could not but sympathise with their paternal affection and aid in every - way in my power. Generally my good-will took the form of raisins. I was - lavish now I had given up my journey, and my master of transport - distributed with an air as if I were bestowing gold and silver. - </p> - <p> - He set out my table on the cobble-stones of the inn-yard in the sunshine. - I believe, had I been a really dignified traveller, I should have put up - with the stuffiness and darkness of the inn's one room, but I felt the - recurrent hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice, with a certain steamed scone - which contained more of the millstone and less of the flour than was usual - even with the scones of the country, were trials enough without trying to - be dignified in discomfort. - </p> - <p> - And while I had my meal everybody took it in turns to look through the - finder of my camera, the women, small-footed, dirty creatures, much to the - surprise of their menfolk, having precedence. Those women vowed they had - never seen a foreigner before. Every one of them had bound feet, tiny feet - on which they could just totter, and all were clad in extremely dirty, - much-patched blue cotton faded into a dingy dirt-colour. Most of them wore - tight-fitting coverings of black cloth to cover their scalps, often - evidently to conceal their baldness, for many of them suffered from - “expending too much heart.” Baldness is caused, say the Chinese half in - fun, because the luckless man or woman has thought more of others than of - themselves. I am afraid they do not believe it, or they may like to hide - their good deeds, for they are anything but proud of being bald. Most of - the mouths, too, here, and indeed all along the road, were badly formed - and full of shockingly broken and decayed teeth, the women's particularly. - Wheaten flour, which is the staple food of Shansi, is apparently not - enough to make good teeth. The people were not of a markedly Mongolian - type. Already it seemed as if the nations to the West were setting their - seal upon them, and some of the younger girls, with thick black hair - parted in the middle, a little colour in their cheeks, and somewhat - pathetic, wistful-looking faces, would have been good-looking in any land. - </p> - <p> - Then I had one more good look at the river, my farthest point west on the - journey, the river I had come so far to see. It was all so peaceful in the - afternoon sunlight that it seemed foolish not to go on. The hills of - Shensi beckoned and all my fears fell from me. I wanted badly to go on. - Then came reason. It was madness to risk the <i>tufeis</i> with whom - everyone was agreed Shensi swarmed. There in the brilliant sunshine, with - the laughing people around me, I was not afraid, but when night fell—no, - even if the soldiers would have allowed, which Mr Wang declared they would - not—I dared not, and I turned sadly and regretfully and made my way - back to Fen Chou Fu. - </p> - <p> - Had I gone on I should have arrived in Russia with the war in full swing, - so on the whole? am thankful I had to flee before the <i>tufeis</i> of - Shensi. Perhaps when the world is at peace I shall essay that fascinating - journey again. Only I shall look out for some companion, and even if I - take the matchless master of transport I shall most certainly see to it - that I have a good cook. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—LAST DAYS IN CHINA - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ell, I had failed! - The horrid word kept ringing in my ears, the still more horrid thought was - ever in my mind day and night as I retraced my footsteps, and I come of a - family that does not like to fail. - </p> - <p> - I wondered if it were possible to make my way along the great waterways of - Siberia. There were mighty rivers there, I had seen them, little-known - rivers, and it seemed to me that before going West again I might see - something of them, and as my mules picked their way across the streams, - along the stony paths, by the walled cities, through the busy little - villages, already China was behind me, I was thinking of ways and means by - which I might penetrate Siberia. - </p> - <p> - At Fen Chou Fu they were kind, but I knew they thought I had given in too - easily, that I had turned back at a shadow, but at T'ai Yuan Fu I met the - veteran missionary, Dr Edwards, and I was comforted and did not feel so - markedly that failure was branded all over me when he thanked God that his - letter had had the effect of making me consider carefully my ways, for of - one thing he was sure, there would have been but one ending to the - expedition. To get to Lan Chou Fu would have been impossible. - </p> - <p> - Still my mind was not quite at ease about the matter, and at intervals I - wondered if I would not have gone on had I had a good cook. Rather a - humiliating thought! It was a satisfaction when one day I met Mr Reginald - Farrer, who had left Peking with Mr Purdom to botanise in Kansu ten days - before I too had proposed to start West. - </p> - <p> - “I often wondered,” said he, “what became of you and how you had got on. - We thought perhaps you might have fallen into the hands of White Wolf and - then———” He paused. - </p> - <p> - Shensi, he declared, was a seething mass of unrest. It would have spelled - death to cross to those peaceful hills I had looked at from the left bank - of the Hoang-Ho. We discussed our travels, and we took diametrically - opposite views of China. But it is impossible to have everything: one has - to choose, and I prefer the crudeness of the new world, the rush and the - scramble and the progress, to the calm of the Oriental. Very likely this - is because I am a woman. In the East woman holds a subservient position, - she has no individuality of her own, and I, coming from the newest new - world, where woman has a very high place indeed, is counted a citizen, and - a useful citizen, could hardly be expected to admire a state of society - where her whole life is a torture and her position is regulated by her - value to the man to whom she belongs. I put this to my friend when he was - admiring the Chinese ladies and he laughed. - </p> - <p> - “I admit,” said he, “that a young woman has a”—well, he used a very - strong expression, but it wasn't strong enough—“of a time when she - is young, but, if she has a son, when her husband dies see what a position - she holds. That little old woman sitting on a <i>k'ang</i> rules a whole - community.” - </p> - <p> - And then I gave it up because our points of view were East and West. But I - am thankful that the Fates did not make me—a woman—a member of - a nation where I could have no consideration, no chance of happiness, no - great influence or power by my own effort, where recognition only came if - I had borne a son who was still living and my husband was dead. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0176.jpg" alt="0176 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0176.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0177.jpg" alt="0177 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0177.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - On my way back to T'ai Yuan Fu I stayed at no mission station except at - Fen Chou Fu; I went by a different route and spent the nights at miserable - inns that kindly charged me a whole penny for lodging and allowed me to - sleep in my litter in their yards, and about eighty <i>li</i> from Fen - Chou Fu I came across evidences of another mission that would be <i>anathema - maranatha</i> to the Nonconformists with whom I had been staying. It is - curious this schism between two bodies holding what purports to be the - same faith. I remember a missionary, the wife of a doctor at Ping Ting - Chou, who belonged to a sect called The Brethren, who spoke of the Roman - Catholics as if they were in as much need of conversion as the ignorant - Chinese around her. It made me smile; yet I strongly suspect that Mr - Farrer will put me in the same category as I put my friend from Ping Ting - Chou! However, here under the care of the Alsatian Fathers the country was - most beautifully cultivated. The wheat was growing tall and lush in the - land, emerald-green in the May sunshine; there were avenues of trees along - the wayside clothed in the tender fresh green of spring, and I came upon a - whole village, men and boys, busy making a bridge across a stream. Never - in China have I seen such evidences of well-conducted agricultural - industry; and the Fathers were militant too, for they were, and probably - are, armed, and in the Boxer trouble held their station like a fort, and - any missionaries fleeing who reached them had their lives saved. I found - much to commend in that Roman Catholic mission, and felt they were as - useful to the country people in their way as were the Americans to the - people of the towns. - </p> - <p> - Outside another little town the population seemed to be given over to the - making of strawboard, and great banks were plastered with squares of it - set out to dry, and every here and there a man was engaged in putting more - pieces up. It wras rather a comical effect to see the side of a bank - plastered with yellow squares of strawboard and the wheat springing on - top. - </p> - <p> - All along the route still went caravans of camels, mules and donkeys, and, - strangest of all modes of conveyance, wheel-barrows, heavily laden too. A - wheel-barrow in China carries goods on each side of a great wheel, a man - holds up the shafts and wheels it, usually with a strap round his - shoulders, and in front either another man or a donkey is harnessed to - help with the traction. Hundreds of miles they go, over the roughest way, - and the labour must be very heavy; but wherever I went in China this was - impressed upon me, that man was the least important factor in any work of - production. He might be used till he failed and then thrown lightly away - without a qualm. There were plenty glad enough to take his place. - </p> - <p> - I have been taken to task for comparing China to Babylon, but I must make - some comparison to bring home things to my readers. This journey through - the country in the warm spring sunshine was as unlike a journey anywhere - that I have been in Europe, Africa or Australia as anything could possibly - be. It was through an old land, old when Europe was young. I stopped at - inns that were the disgusting product of the slums; I passed men working - in the fields who were survivals of an old civilisation, and when I passed - any house that was not a hovel it was secluded carefully, so that the - owner and his womenkind might keep themselves apart from the proletariat, - the serfs who laboured around them and for them. - </p> - <p> - Within a day's journey of T'ai Yuan Fu I came to a little town, Tsui Su, - where there was an extra vile inn with no courtyard that I could sleep in, - only a room where the rats were numerous and so fierce that they drove - Buchanan for refuge to my bed and the objectionable insects that I hustled - off the <i>k'ang</i> by means of powdered borax and Keating's, strewed - over and under the ground sheet, crawled up the walls and dropped down - upon me from the ceiling. Poor Buchanan and I spent a horrid night. I - don't like rats anyway, and fierce and hungry rats on the spot are far - worse for keeping off sleep than possible robbers in the future. All that - night I dozed and waked and restrained Buchanan's energies and vowed I was - a fool for coming to China, and then in the morning as usual I walked it - all back, and was glad, for Mr Wang came to me and, after the best - personally conducted Cook's tourist style, explained that here was a - temple which “mus' see.” - </p> - <p> - I didn't believe much in temples in these parts, but I went a little way - back into the town and came to a really wonderful temple, built, I think, - over nine warm springs—the sort of thing that weighed down the - scales heavily on Mr Farrer's side. What has a nation that could produce - such a temple to learn from the West? I shall never forget the carved - dragons in red and gold that climbed the pillars at the principal - entrance, the twisted trees, the shrines over the springs and the bronze - figures that stood guard on the platform at the entrance gate. The steps - up to that gate were worn and broken with the passing of many feet through - countless years; the yellow tiles of the roof were falling and broken; - from the figures had been torn or had fallen the arms that they once had - borne; the whole place was typical of the decay which China allows to fall - upon her holy places; but seen in the glamour of the early morning, with - the grass springing underfoot, the trees in full leaf, the sunshine - lighting the yellow roofs and the tender green of the trees, it was - gorgeous. Then the clouds gathered and it began to rain, gentle, soft, - warm, growing rain, and I left it shrouded in a seductive grey mist that - veiled its imperfections and left me a 'memory only of one of the - beautiful places of the earth that I am glad I have seen. - </p> - <p> - At T'ai Yuan Fu I paid Mr Wang's fare back to Pao Ting Fu and bade him a - glad farewell. There may be worse interpreters in China, but I really hope - there are not many. He would have been a futile person in any country; he - was a helpless product of age-old China. I believe he did get back safely, - but I must confess to feeling on sending him away much as I should do were - I to turn loose a baby of four to find his way across London. Indeed I - have met many babies of four in Australia who struck me as being far more - capable than the interpreter who had undertaken to see me across China. - </p> - <p> - I was on the loose myself now. I was bent on going to Siberia; but the - matter had to be arranged in my own mind first, and while I did so I - lingered and spent a day or two at Hwailu; not that I wanted to see that - town—somehow I had done with China—but because the personality - of Mr and Mrs Green of the China Inland Mission interested me. - </p> - <p> - Hwailu is a small walled city, exactly like hundreds of other little - walled cities, with walls four-square to each point of the compass, and it - is set where the hills begin to rise that divide Chihli from Shansi, and - beyond the mission station is a square hill called Nursing Calf Fort. The - hill has steep sides up which it is almost impossible to take any animal, - but there are about one hundred acres of arable land on top, and this, - with true Chinese thrift, could not be allowed to go untilled, so the - story goes that while a calf was young a man carried it up on his back; - there it grew to maturity, and with its help they ploughed the land and - they reaped the crops. It is a truly Chinese story, and very likely it is - true. It is exactly what the Chinese would do. - </p> - <p> - At Hwailu, where they had lived for many years, Mr and Mrs Green were - engaged in putting up a new church, and with them I came in contact with - missionaries who had actually suffered almost to death at the hands of the - Boxers. It was thrilling to listen to the tales of their sufferings, - sitting there on the verandah of the mission house looking out on to the - peaceful flowers and shrubs of the mission garden. - </p> - <p> - When the Boxer trouble spread to Hwailu and it was manifest the mission - house was no longer safe, they took refuge in a cave among the hills that - surround the town. Their converts and friends—for they had many - friends who were not converts—hardly dared come near them, and death - was very close. It was damp and cold in the cave though it was - summer-time, and by and by they had eaten all their food and drunk all - their water, and their hearts were heavy, for they feared not only for - themselves, but for what the little children must suffer. - </p> - <p> - “I could not help it,” said Mrs Green, reproaching herself for being - human. “I used to look at my children and wonder how the saints <i>could</i> - rejoice in martyrdom!” - </p> - <p> - When they were in despair and thinking of coming out and giving themselves - up they heard hushed voices, and a hand at the opening of the cave offered - five large wheaten scones. Some friends, again not converts, merely pagan - friends, had remembered their sufferings. Still they looked at the scenes - doubtfully, and though the little children—they were only four and - six—held out their hands for them eagerly, they were obliged to - implore them not to eat them, they would make them so desperately thirsty. - But their Chinese friends were thoughtful as well as kind, and presently - came the same soft voice again and a hand sending up a basketful of - luscious cucumbers, cool and refreshing with their store of water. - </p> - <p> - But they could not stay there for ever, and finally they made their way - down to the river bank, the Ching River—the Clear River we called - it, and I have also heard it translated the Dark Blue River, though it was - neither dark, nor blue, nor clear, simply a muddy canal—and slowly - made their way in the direction of Tientsin, hundreds of miles away. That - story of the devoted little band's wanderings makes pitiful reading. - Sometimes they went by boat, sometimes they crept along in the kaoliang - and reeds, and at last they arrived at the outskirts of Hsi An—not - the great city in Shensi, but a small walled town on the Ching River in - Chihli. Western cities are as common in China as new towns in - English-speaking lands—and here they, hearing a band was after them, - hid themselves in the kaoliang, the grain that grows close and tall as a - man. They were weary and worn and starved; they were well-nigh hopeless—at - least I should have been hopeless—but still their faith upheld them. - It was the height of summer and the sun poured down his rays, but towards - evening the clouds gathered. If it rained they knew with little children - they must leave their refuge. - </p> - <p> - “But surely, I know,” said Mrs Green, “the dear Lord will never let it - rain.” - </p> - <p> - And as I looked at her I seemed to see the passionate yearning with which - she looked at the little children that the rain must doom to a Chinese - prison or worse. In among those thick kaoliang stalks they could not stay. - </p> - <p> - It rained, the heavy rain that comes in the Chinese summer, and the - fugitives crept out and gave themselves up. - </p> - <p> - “It shows how ignorant we are, how unfit to judge for ourselves,” said the - teller of the tale fervently, “for we fell into the hands of a - comparatively merciful band, whereas presently the kaoliang was beaten by - a ruthless set of men whom there would have been no escaping, and who - certainly would have killed us.” - </p> - <p> - But the tenderness of the most merciful band was a thing to be prayed - against. They carried the children kindly enough—the worst of - Chinamen seem to be good to children—but they constantly threatened - their elders with death. They were going to their death, that they made - very clear to them; and they slung them on poles by their hands and feet, - and the pins came out of the women's long hair—there was another - teacher, a girl, with them—and it trailed in the dust of the filthy - Chinese paths. And Mr Green was faint and weary from a wound in his neck, - but still they had no pity. - </p> - <p> - Still these devoted people comforted each other. It was the will of the - Lord. Always was He with them. They were taken to Pao Ting Fu, Pao Ting Fu - that had just burned its own missionaries, and put in the gaol there—and, - knowing a Chinese inn, I wonder what can be the awfulness of a Chinese - gaol—and they were allowed no privacy. Mrs Green had dysentery; they - had not even a change of clothes; but the soldiers were always in the - rooms with them, or at any rate in the outer room, and this was done, of - course, of <i>malice prepense</i>, for no one values the privacy of their - women more than the Chinese. The girl got permission to go down to the - river to wash their clothes, but a soldier always accompanied her, and - always the crowds jeered and taunted as she went along in the glaring - sunshine, feeling that nothing was hidden from these scornful people. Only - strangely to the children were they kind; the soldiers used to give them - copper coins so that they might buy little scones and cakes to eke out the - scanty rations, and once—it brought home to me, perhaps as nothing - else could, the deprivations of such a life—instead of buying the - much-needed food the women bought a whole pennyworth of hairpins, for - their long hair was about their shoulders, and though they brushed it to - the best of their ability with their hands it was to them an unseemly - thing. - </p> - <p> - And before the order came—everything is ordered in China—that - their lives were to be saved and they were to be sent to Tientsin the - little maid who had done so much to cheer and alleviate their hard lot lay - dying; the hardships and the coarse food had been too much for her. In the - filth and misery of the ghastly Chinese prison she lay, and, bending over - her, they picked the lice off her. Think of that, ye folk who guard your - little ones tenderly and love them as these missionaries who feel called - upon to convert the Chinese loved theirs. - </p> - <p> - After all that suffering they went back, back to Hwailu and the desolated - mission station under the Nursing Calf Fort, where they continue their - work to this day, and so will continue it, I suppose, to the end, for most - surely their sufferings and their endurance have fitted them for the work - they have at heart as no one who has not so suffered and endured could be - fitted. And so I think the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges. - </p> - <p> - I walked through a tremendous dust-storm to the railway station at the - other side of the town, and the woman who had suffered these awful things, - and who was as sweet and charming and lovable a woman as I have ever met, - walked with me and bade me God-speed on my journey, and when I parted from - her I knew that among a class I—till I came to China—had - always strenuously opposed I had found one whom I could not only respect, - but whom I could love and admire. - </p> - <p> - Going back to Pao Ting Fu was like going back to old friends. They had not - received my letter. Mr Wang had not made his appearance, so when James - Buchanan and I, attended by the master of transport, appeared upon the - scene on a hot summer day we found the missionary party having their - midday dinner on the verandah, and they received me—bless their kind - hearts!—with open arms, and proceeded to explain to me how very wise - a thing I had done in coming back. The moment I had left, they said, they - had been uncomfortable in the part they had taken in forwarding me on my - journey. - </p> - <p> - It was very good of them. There are days we always remember all our lives—our - wedding day and such-like—and that coming back on the warm summer's - day out of the hot, dusty streets of the western suburb into the cool, - clean, tree-shaded compound of the American missionaries at Pao Ting Fu is - one of them. And that compound is one of the places in the world I much - want to visit again. - </p> - <p> - There is another day, too, I shall not lightly forget. We called it the - last meeting of the Travellers' Club of Pao Ting Fu. There were only two - members in the club, Mr Long and I and an honorary member, James Buchanan, - and on this day the club decided to meet, and Mr Long asked me to dinner. - He lived in the Chinese college in the northern suburb. His house was only - about two miles away and it could be reached generally by going round by - the farms and graves, mostly graves, that cover the ground by the rounded - north-west corner of the wall of the city. Outside a city in China is - ugly. True, the walls are strangely old-world and the moat is a relic of - the past—useful in these modern times for disposing of unwanted - puppies; Pao Ting Fu never seemed so hard up for food as Shansi—but - otherwise the ground looks much as the deserted alluvial goldfields round - Ballarat used to look in the days of my youth; the houses are ramshackle - to the last degree, and all the fields, even when they are green with the - growing grain, look unfinished. But round the north-west corner of Pao - Ting Fu the graves predominate. There are thousands and thousands of them. - And on that particular day it rained, it rained, and it rained, steady - warm summer rain that only stopped and left the air fresh and washed about - six o'clock in the evening. I ordered a rickshaw—a rickshaw in Pao - Ting Fu is a very primitive conveyance; but it was pleasantly warm, and, - with James Buchanan on my knee, in the last evening dress that remained to - me and an embroidered Chinese jacket for an opera cloak, I set out. I had - started early because on account of the rain the missionaries opined there - might be a little difficulty with the roads. However, I did not worry much - because I only had two miles to go, and I had walked it often in less than - three-quarters of an hour. I was a little surprised when my rickshaw man - elected to go through the town, but, as I could not speak the language, I - was not in a position to remonstrate, and I knew we could not come back - that way as at sundown all the gates shut save the western, and that only - waits till the last train at nine o'clock. - </p> - <p> - It was muddy, red, clayey mud in the western suburb when we started, but - when we got into the northern part of the town I was reminded of the - tribulations of Fen Chou Fu in the summer rains, for the water was up to - our axles, the whole place was like a lake and the people were piling up - dripping goods to get them out of the way of the very dirty flood. My man - only paused to turn his trousers up round his thighs and then went on - again—going through floods was apparently all in the contract—but - we went very slowly indeed. Dinner was not until eight and I had given - myself plenty of time, but I began to wonder whether we should arrive at - that hour. Presently I knew we shouldn't. - </p> - <p> - We went through the northern gate, and to my dismay the country in the - fading light seemed under water. From side to side and far beyond the road - was covered, and what those waters hid I trembled to think, for a road at - any time in China is a doubtful proposition and by no means spells - security. As likely as not there were deep holes in it. But apparently my - coolie had no misgivings. In he went at his usual snail's pace and the - water swirled up to the axles, up to the floor of the rickshaw, and when I - had gathered my feet up on the seat and we were in the middle of the sheet - of exceedingly dirty water the rickshaw coolie stopped and gave me to - understand that he had done his darnedest and could do no more. He dropped - the shafts and stood a little way off, wringing the water out of his - garments. It wasn't dangerous, of course, but it was distinctly - uncomfortable. I saw myself in evening dress wading through two feet of - dirty water to a clayey, slippery bank at the side. I waited a little - because the prospect did not please me, and though there were plenty of - houses round, there was not a soul in sight. It was getting dark too, and - it was after eight o'clock. - </p> - <p> - Presently a figure materialised on that clayey bank and him I beckoned - vehemently. - </p> - <p> - Now Pao Ting Fu had seen foreigners, not many, but still foreigners, and - they spell to it a little extra cash, so the gentleman on the bank tucked - up his garments and came wading over. He and my original friend took a - maddeningly long time discussing the situation, and then they proceeded to - drag the rickshaw sideways to the bank. There was a narrow pathway along - the top and they apparently decided that if they could get the conveyance - up there we might proceed on our journey. First I had to step out, and it - looked slippery enough to make me a little doubtful. As a preliminary I - handed James Buchanan to the stranger, because, as he had to sit on my - knee, I did not want him to get dirtier than necessary. Buchanan did not - like the stranger, but he submitted with a bad grace till I, stepping out, - slipped on the clay and fell flat on my back, when he promptly bit the man - who was holding him and, getting away, expressed his sympathy by licking - my face. Such a commotion as there was! My two men yelled in dismay. - Buchanan barked furiously, and I had some ado to get on my feet again, for - the path was very slippery. It was long past eight now and could I have - gone back I would have done so, but clearly that was impossible, so by - signs I engaged No. 2 man, whose wounds had to be salved—copper did - it—to push behind, and we resumed our way.... - </p> - <p> - Briefly it was long after ten o'clock when I arrived at the college. My - host had given me up as a bad job long before and, not being well, had - gone to bed. There was nothing for it but to rouse him up, because I - wanted to explain that I thought I had better have another man to take me - home over the still worse road that I knew ran outside the city. - </p> - <p> - He made me most heartily welcome and then explained to my dismay that the - men utterly declined to go any farther, declared no rickshaw could get - over the road to the western suburb and that I must have a cart. That was - all very well, but where was I to get a cart at that time of night, with - the city gates shut? - </p> - <p> - Mr Long explained that his servant was a wise and resourceful man and - would probably get one if I would come in and have dinner. So the two - members of the Travellers' Club sat down to an excellent dinner—a - Chinese cook doesn't spoil a dinner because you are two hours late—and - we tried to take a flash-light photograph of the entertainment. Alas! I - was not fortunate that day; something went wrong with the magnesium light - and we burnt up most things. However, we ourselves were all right, and at - two o'clock in the morning Mr Long's servant's uncle, or cousin, or some - relative, arrived with a Peking cart and a good substantial mule. I - confess I was a bit doubtful about the journey home because I knew the - state of repair, or rather disrepair, of a couple of bridges we had to - cross, but they were negotiated, and just as the dawn was beginning to - break I arrived at the mission compound and rewarded the adventurous men - who had had charge of me with what seemed to them much silver and to me - very little. I have been to many dinners in my life, but the last meeting - of the Travellers' Club at Pao Ting Fu remains engraved on my memory. - </p> - <p> - Yet a little longer I waited in Pao Ting Fu before starting on my Siberian - trip, for the start was to be made from Tientsin and the missionaries were - going there in house-boats. They were bound for Pei Ta Ho for their summer - holiday and the first stage of the journey was down the Ching River to - Tientsin. I thought it would be rather a pleasant way of getting over the - country, and it would be pleasant too to have company. I am not enamoured - of my own society; I can manage alone, but company certainly has great - charms. - </p> - <p> - So I waited, and while I waited I bought curios. - </p> - <p> - In Pao Ting Fu in the revolution there was a great deal of looting done, - and when order reigned again it was as much as a man's life was worth to - try and dispose of any of his loot. A foreigner who would take the things - right out of the country was a perfect godsend, and once it was known I - was buying, men waited for me the livelong day, and I only had to put my - nose outside the house to be pounced upon by a would-be seller. I have had - as many as nine men selling at once; they enlisted the servants, and china - ranged round the kitchen floor, and embroideries, brass and mirrors were - stowed away in the pantry. Indeed I and my followers must have been an - awful nuisance to the missionaries. They knew no English, but as I could - count a little in Chinese, when we could not get an interpreter we - managed; and I expect I bought an immense amount of rubbish, but never in - my life have I had greater satisfaction in spending money. More than ever - was I pleased when I unpacked in England, and I have been pleased ever - since. - </p> - <p> - Those sellers were persistent. They said in effect that never before had - they had such a chance and they were going to make the best of it. We - engaged house-boats for our transit; we went down to those boats, we - pushed off from the shore, and even then there were sellers bent on making - the best of their last chance. I bought there on the boat a royal blue - vase for two dollars and a quaint old brass mirror in a carved wooden - frame also for two dollars, and then the boatmen cleared off the merchants - and we started. - </p> - <p> - I expect on the banks of the Euphrates or the Tigris in the days before - the dawn of history men went backwards and forwards in boats like these we - embarked in on the little river just outside the south gate of Pao Ting - Fu. We had three boats. Dr and Mrs Lewis and their children had the - largest, with their servants, and we all made arrangements to mess on - board their boat. Miss Newton and a friend had another, with more of the - servants, and I, like a millionaire, had one all to myself. I had parted - with the master of transport at Pao Ting Fu, but Hsu Sen, one of the - Lewis's servants, waited upon me and made up my bed in the open part of - the boat under a little roof. The cabins were behind, low little places - like rabbit hutches, with little windows and little doors through which I - could get by going down on my knees. I used them only for my luggage, so - was enabled to offer a passage to a sewing-woman who would be exceedingly - useful to the missionaries. She had had her feet bound in her youth and - was rather crippled in consequence, and she bought her own food, as I - bought my water, at the wayside places as we passed. She was a foolish - soul, like most Chinese women, and took great interest in Buchanan, - offering him always a share of her own meals, which consisted apparently - largely of cucumbers and the tasteless Chinese melon. Now James Buchanan - was extremely polite, always accepting what was offered him, but he could - not possibly eat cucumber and melon, and when I went to bed at night I - often came in contact with something cold and clammy which invariably - turned out to be fragments of the sewing-woman's meals bestowed upon my - courtly little dog. I forgave him because of his good manners. There - really was nowhere else to hide them. - </p> - <p> - They were pleasant days we spent meandering down the river. We passed by - little farms; we passed by villages, by fishing traps, by walled cities. - Hsi An Fu, with the water of the river flowing at the foot of its - castellated walls, was like a city of romance, and when we came upon - little marketplaces by the water's edge the romance deepened, for we knew - then how the people lived. Sometimes we paused and bought provisions; - sometimes we got out and strolled along the banks in the pleasant summer - weather. Never have I gone a more delightful or more unique voyage. And at - last we arrived at Tientsin and I parted from my friends, and they went on - to Pei Ta Ho and I to Astor House to prepare for my journey east and - north. - </p> - <p> - And so I left China, China where I had dwelt for sixteen months, China - that has been civilised so long and is a world apart, and now I sit in my - comfortable sitting-room in England and read what the papers say of China; - and the China I know and the China of the newspapers is quite a different - place. It is another world. China has come into the war. On our side, of - course: the Chinaman is far too astute to meddle with a losing cause. But, - after all, what do the peasants of Chihli and the cave-dwellers in the <i>yaos</i> - of Shansi know about a world's war? The very, very small section that - rules China manages these affairs, and the mass of the population are - exactly as they were in the days of the Cæsars, or before the first - dynasty in Egypt for that matter. - </p> - <p> - “China,” said one day to me a man who knew it well commercially, just - before I left, “was never in so promising a condition. All the taxes are - coming in and money was never so easy to get.” - </p> - <p> - “There was a row over the new tax,” said a missionary sadly, in the part I - know well, “in a little village beyond there. The village attacked the - tax-collectors and the soldiers fell upon the villagers and thirteen men - were killed. Oh, I know they say it is only nominal, but what is merely - nominal to outsiders is their all to these poor villagers. They must pay - the tax and starve, or resist and be killed.” - </p> - <p> - He did not say they were between the devil and the deep sea, because he - was a missionary, but I said it for him, and there were two cases like - that which came within my ken during my last month in China. - </p> - <p> - The fact of the matter is, I suppose, that outsiders can only judge - generally, and China is true to type, the individual has never counted - there and he does not count yet. What are a few thousand unpaid soldiers - revolting in Kalgan? What a robber desolating Kansu? A score or two of - villagers killed because they could not pay a tax? Absolutely nothing in - the general crowd. I, being a woman, and a woman from the new nations of - the south, cannot help feeling, and feeling strongly, the individual ought - to count, that no nation can be really prosperous until the individual - with but few exceptions is well-to-do and happy. I should like to rule out - the “few exceptions,” but that would be asking too much of this present - world. At least I like to think that most people have a chance of - happiness, but I feel in China that not a tenth of the population has - that. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0194.jpg" alt="0194 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0194.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0195.jpg" alt="0195 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0195.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - China left a curious impression upon my mind. The people are courteous and - kindly, far more courteous than would be the same class of people in - England, and yet I came back from the interior with a strong feeling that - it is unsafe, not because of the general hostility of the people—they - are not hostile—but because suffering and life count for so little. - They themselves suffer and die by the thousand. - </p> - <p> - “What! Bring a daughter-in-law to see the doctor in the middle of the - harvest! Impossible!” And yet they knew she was suffering agony, that - seeing the doctor was her only chance of sight! But she did not get it. - They were harvesting and no one could be spared! - </p> - <p> - What is the life then of a foreign barbarian more or less? These - courteous, kindly, dirty folk who look upon one as a menagerie would look - on with equal interest at one's death. They might stretch out a hand to - help, just as a man in England might stop another from ill-treating a - horse, though for one who would put himself out two would pass by with a - shrug of the shoulders and a feeling that it wras no business of theirs. - Every day of their lives the majority look upon the suffering of their - women and think nothing of it. The desire of the average man is to have a - wife who has so suffered. I do not know whether the keeping of the women - in a state of subserviency has reacted upon the nation at large, but I - should think it has hampered it beyond words. Nothing—nothing made - me so ardent a believer in the rights of women as my visit to China. - </p> - <p> - “Women in England,” said a man to me the other day, a foreigner, one of - our Allies, “deserve the vote, but the Continental women are babies. They - cannot have it.” So are the Chinese women babies, very helpless babies - indeed, and I feel, and feel very strongly indeed, that until China - educates her women, makes them an efficient half of the nation, not merely - man's toy and his slave, China will always lag behind in the world's - progress. - </p> - <p> - Already China is split up into “spheres of influence.” Whether she likes - it or not, she must realise that Russian misrule is paramount in the great - steppes of the north; Japan rules to a great extent in the north-east, her - railway from Mukden to Chang Ch'un is a model of efficiency; Britain - counts her influence as the most important along the valley of the Yang - Tze Kiang, and France has some say in Yunnan. I cannot help thinking that - it would be a great day for China, for the welfare of her toiling - millions, millions toiling without hope, if she were partitioned up among - the stable nations of the earth—that is to say, between Japan, - Britain and France. And having said so much, I refer my readers to Mr - Farrer for the other point of view. It is diametrically opposed to mine. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX—KHARBIN AND VLADIVOSTOK - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t Tientsin I - sweltered in the Astor House, and I put it on record that I found it - hotter in Northern China than I did on the Guinea coast in West Africa. It - was probably, of course, the conditions under which I lived, for the hotel - had been so well arranged for the bitter winter it was impossible to get a - thorough draught of air through any of the rooms. James Buchanan did not - like it either, for in the British concessions in China dogs come under - suspicion of hydrophobia and have always to be on the leash, wherefore, of - course, I had to take the poor little chap out into the Chinese quarter - before he could have a proper run, and he spent a great deal more time - shut up in my bedroom than he or I liked. - </p> - <p> - But Tientsin was a place apart, not exactly Chinese as I know China—certainly - not Europe; it remains in my mind as a place where Chinese art learns to - accommodate itself to European needs. All the nations of the world East - and West meet there: in the British quarter were the Sikhs and other - Indian nationalities, and in the French the streets were kept by Anamites - in quaint peaked straw hats. I loved those streets of Tientsin that made - me feel so safe and yet gave me a delightful feeling of adventure—adventure - that cost me nothing; and I always knew I could go and dine with a friend - or come back and exchange ideas with somebody who spoke my own tongue. But - Tientsin wasn't any good to me as a traveller. It has been written about - for the last sixty years or more. I went on. - </p> - <p> - One night Buchanan and I, without a servant—we missed the servant we - always had in China—wended our way down to the railway station and - ensconced ourselves in a first-class carriage bound for Mukden. The train - didn't start till some ungodly hour of the night, but as it was in the - station I got permission to take my place early, and with rugs and - cushions made myself comfortable and was sound asleep long before we - started. When I wakened I was well on the way to my destination. - </p> - <p> - I made friends with a British officer of Marines who, with his sister, was - coming back across Russia. He had been learning Japanese, and I corrected - another wrong impression. The British do sometimes learn a language other - than their own. At Mukden we dined and had a bath. I find henceforth that - all my stopping-places are punctuated by baths, or by the fact that a bath - was not procurable. A night and day in the train made one desirable at - Mukden, and a hotel run by capable Japanese made it a delight. The - Japanese, as far as I could see, run Manchuria; must be more powerful than - ever now Russia is out of it; Kharbin is Russian, Mukden Japanese. The - train from there to Chang Ch'un is Japanese, and we all travelled in a - large open carriage, clean and, considering how packed it was, fairly - airy. There was room for everybody to lie down, just room, and the - efficient Japanese parted me from my treasured James Buchanan and put him, - howling miserably, into a big box—rather a dirty box; I suppose they - don't think much of animals—in another compartment. I climbed over - much luggage and crawled under a good deal more to see that all was right - with him, and the Japanese guards looked upon me as a mild sort of lunatic - and smiled contemptuously. I don't like being looked upon with contempt by - Orientals, so I was a little ruffled when I came back to my own seat. Then - I was amused. - </p> - <p> - Naturally among such a crowd I made no attempt to undress for the night, - merely contenting myself with taking off my boots. But the man next me, a - Japanese naval officer, with whom I conversed in French, had quite - different views. My French was rather bad and so was his in a different - way, so we did not get on very fast. I fear I left him with the impression - that I was an Austrian, for he never seemed to have heard of Australia. - However, we showed each other our good will. Then he proceeded to undress. - Never have I seen the process more nattily accomplished. How he slipped - out of blue cloth and gold lace into a kimono I'm sure I don't know, - though he did it under my very eyes, and then, with praiseworthy - forethought, he took the links and studs out of his shirt and put them - into a clean one ready for the morrow, stowed them both away in his little - trunk, settled himself down on his couch and gave himself up to a - cigarette and conversation. I smoked too—one of his cigarettes—and - we both went to sleep amicably, and with the morning we arrived at Chang - Ch'un, and poor little Buchanan made the welkin ring when he saw me and - found himself caged in a barred box. However that was soon settled, and he - told me how infinitely preferable from a dog's point of view are the free - and easy trains of Russia and China to the well-managed ones of Japan. - </p> - <p> - These towns on the great railway are weird little places, merely scattered - houses and wide roads leading out into the great plain, and the railway - comes out of the distance and goes away into the distance. And the people - who inhabit them seem to be a conglomeration of nations, perhaps the - residuum of all the nations. Here the marine officer and his sister and I - fell into the hands of a strange-looking individual who might have been a - cross between a Russian Pole and a Chinaman, with a dash of Korean thrown - in, and he undertook to take us to a better hotel than that - usually-frequented by visitors to Chang Ch'un. I confess I wonder what - sort of people do visit Chang Ch'un, not the British tourist as a rule, - and if the principal hotel is worse than the ramshackle place where we had - breakfast, it must be bad. Still it was pleasant in the brilliant warm - sunshine, even though it was lucky we had bathed the night before at - Mukden, for the best they could do here was to show us into the most - primitive of bedrooms, the very first effort in the way of a bedroom, I - should think, after people had given up <i>k'angs</i>, and there I met a - very small portion of water in a very small basin alongside an exceedingly - frowsy bed and made an effort to wash away the stains of a night's travel. - Now such a beginning to the day would effectually disgust me; then, fresh - from the discomforts of Chinese travel, I found it all in the day's work. - </p> - <p> - I found too that I had made a mistake and not brought enough money with - me. Before I had paid for Buchanan's ticket I had parted with every penny - I possessed and could not possibly get any more till I arrived at the Hong - Kong and Shanghai Bank at Kharbin. I am rather given to a mistake of that - sort; I always feel my money is so much safer in the bank's charge than in - mine. - </p> - <p> - We went on through fertile Manchuria and I saw the rich fields that coming - out I had passed over at night. This train was Russian, and presently - there came along a soldier, a forerunner of an officer inspecting - passengers and carriages. Promptly his eye fell on Buchanan, who was - taking an intelligent interest in the scenery—he always insisted on - looking out of the window—and I, seeing he, the soldier, was - troubled, tried to tell him my intentions were good and I would pay at - Kharbin; but I don't think I made myself understood, for he looked wildly - round the compartment, seized the little dog, pushed him in a corner and - threw a cushion over him. Both Buchanan and I were so surprised we kept - quite still, and the Russian officer looked in, saw a solitary woman - holding out her ticket and passed on, and not till he was well out of the - way did James Buchanan, who was a jewel, poke up his pretty little head - and make a few remarks upon the enormity of smuggling little dogs without - paying their fares, which was evidently what I was doing. - </p> - <p> - We arrived at Kharbin about nine o'clock at night, and as I stepped out on - to a platform, where all the nations of the earth, in dirty clothes, - seemed yelling in chorus, a man came along and spoke to me in English. The - soldier who had aided and abetted in the smuggling of Buchanan was - standing beside me, evidently expecting some little remembrance, and I was - meditating borrowing from the officer of Marines, though, as they were - going on and I was not, I did not much like it. And the voice in English - asked did I want a hotel. I did, of course. The man said he was the - courier of the Grand Hotel, but he had a little place of his own which was - much better and he could make me very comfortable. Then I explained I - could not get any money till the bank opened next day and he spread out - his hands as a Chinaman might have done. “No matter, no matter,” he would - pay, his purse was mine. - </p> - <p> - Would I go to his house? - </p> - <p> - Could I do anything else under the circumstances? And I promptly took him - at his word and asked for a rouble—Kharbin is China, but the rouble - was the current coin—and paid off the soldier for his services. I - bade farewell to my friends and in a ramshackle droshky went away through - the streets of Kharbin, and we drove so far I wondered if I had done - wisely. I had, as it turned out. - </p> - <p> - But I heard afterwards that even in those days anything might have - happened in Kharbin, where the population consists of Japanese and Chinese - and Russians and an evil combination of all three, to say nothing of a - sprinkling of rascals from all the nations of the earth. - </p> - <p> - “There is not,” said a man who knew it well, “a decent Chinaman in the - whole place.” - </p> - <p> - In fact to all intents and purposes it is Russian. There were Russian - students all in uniform in the streets, and bearded, belted drivers drove - the droshkies with their extra horse in a trace beside the shafts, just as - they did in Russia. Anyhow it seems to me the sins of Kharbin would be the - vigorous primal sins of Russia, not the decadent sins of old-world China. - </p> - <p> - Kharbin when I was there in 1914 had 60,000 inhabitants and 25,000 Russian - soldiers guarding the railway in the district. The Russian police forbade - me to take photographs, and you might take your choice: Chinese <i>hung hu - tzes</i> or Russian brigands would rob and slay you on your very doorstep - in the heart of the town. At least they would in 1914, and things are - probably worse now. All the signs are in Russian and, after the Chinese, - looked to me at first as if I should be able to understand them, but - closer inspection convinced me that the letters, though I knew their - shape, had been out all night and were coming home in not quite the - condition we would wish them to be. There is a Chinese town without a wall - a little way over the plain—like all other Chinese towns, a place of - dirt and smells—and there is a great river, the Sungari, a tributary - of the Amur, on which I first met the magnificent river steamers of these - parts. Badly I wanted to photograph them, but the Russian police said “No, - no,” I would have to get a permit from the colonel in command before that - could be allowed, and the colonel in command was away and was not expected - back till the middle of next week, by which time I expected to be in - Vladivostok, if not in Kharbarosvk, for Kharbin was hardly inviting as a - place of sojourn for a traveller. Mr Poland, as he called himself, did his - best for me. He gave me a fairly large room with a bed in it, a chair, a - table and a broken-down wardrobe that would not open. He had the family - washing cleared out of the bath, so that I bathed amidst the fluttering - damp garments of his numerous progeny, but still there was a bath and a - bath heater that with a certain expenditure of wood could be made to - produce hot water; and if it was rather a terrifying machine to be locked - up with at close quarters, still it did aid me to arrive at a certain - degree of cleanliness, and I had been long enough in China not to be - carping. - </p> - <p> - But it is dull eating in your bedroom, and I knew I had not done wisely, - for even if the principal hotel had been uncomfortable—I am not - saying it was, because I never went there—it would have been more - amusing to watch other folks than to be alone. - </p> - <p> - The day after I arrived I called upon Mr Sly, the British consul, and I - was amused to hear the very dubious sounds that came from his room when I - was announced. - </p> - <p> - I cleared the air by saying hastily: “I'm not a distressed British subject - and I don't want any money,” though I'm bound to say he looked kind enough - to provide me with the wherewithal had I wanted it. Then he shook his head - and expressed his disapproval of my method of arrival. - </p> - <p> - “The last man who fell into Kharbin like that,” said he, “I hunted for a - week, and two days later I attended his funeral,” so badly had he been - man-handled. But that man, it seems, had plenty of money; it was wisdom he - lacked. My trouble was the other way, certainly as far as money was - concerned. It would never have been worth anyone's while to harm me for - the sake of my possessions. I had fallen into the hands of a Polish Jew - named Polonetzky, though he called himself Poland to me, feeling, I - suppose, my English tongue was not equal to the more complicated word, and - he dwelt in the Dome Stratkorskaya—remember Kharbin is China—and - I promised if he dealt well by me that I would recommend his - boarding-house to all my friends bound for Kharbin. He did deal well by - me. So frightened was he about me that he would not let me out of his - sight, or if he were not in attendance his wife or his brother was turned - on to look after me. - </p> - <p> - “I am very good friends,” said he, “with Mr Sly at present. I do not want - anything to happen.” - </p> - <p> - Mr Sly, we found, knew one of my brothers and he very kindly asked me to - dinner. That introduced me to the élite of the place, and after dinner—Chinese - cooks are still excellent on the borders—we drove in his private - carriage and ended the evening in the public gardens. The coachmen here - are quite gorgeous affairs; no matter what their nondescript nationality—they - are generally Russians, I think, though I have seen Chinamen, Tartars, - driving like Jehu the son of Nimshi—they wear for full livery grey - beaver hats with curly brims like Johnny Walker or the Corinthians in the - days of the Regent. It took my breath away when I found myself bowling - along behind two of these curly brimmed hats that I thought had passed - away in the days of my grandfather. - </p> - <p> - The gardens at Kharbin are a great institution. There in the summer's - evening the paths were all lined with lamps; there were open-air - restaurants; there were bands and fluttering flags; there were the most - excellent ices and insidious drinks of all descriptions, and there were - crowds of gaily dressed people—Monte Carlo in the heart of Central - Asia! Kharbin in the summer is hot, very hot, and Kharbin in the winter is - bitter cold. It is all ice and snow and has a temperature that ranges - somewhere down to 40° Fahrenheit below zero, and this though the sun - shines brilliantly. It is insidious cold that sneaks on you and takes you - unawares, not like the bleak raw cold of England that makes the very most - of itself. They told me a tale of a girl who had gone skating and when she - came off the ice found that her feet were frozen, though she was unaware - of her danger and had thought them all right. Dogs are often frozen in the - streets and Chinamen too, for the Chinaman has a way of going to sleep in - odd places, and many a one has slept his last sleep in the winter streets - of Kharbin—the wide straggling streets with houses and gardens and - vacant spaces just like the towns of Australia. A frontier town it is in - effect. We have got beyond the teeming population of China. - </p> - <p> - And then I prepared to go first east to Vladivostok and then north to - Siberia, and I asked advice of both the British consul and my - self-appointed courier, Mr Poland. - </p> - <p> - Certainly he took care of me, and the day before I started east he handed - me over to his wife and suggested she should take me to the market and buy - necessaries for my journey. It was only a little over twenty-four hours so - it did not seem to me a matter of much consequence, but I felt it would be - interesting to walk through the market. It was. - </p> - <p> - This class of market, I find, is very much alike all over the world - because they sell the necessaries of life to the people and it is only - varied by the difference of the local products. Kharbin market was a - series of great sheds, and though most of the stalls were kept by - Chinamen, it differed from a market in a Chinese town in the fact that - huge quantities of butter and cheese and cream were for sale. Your true - Chinaman is shocked at the European taste for milk and butter and cream. - He thinks it loathsome, and many a man is unable to sit at table and watch - people eat these delicacies. Just as, of course, he is shocked at the - taste that would put before a diner a huge joint of beef or mutton. These - things Chinese refinement disguises. I suspect the proletariat with whom I - came in contact in Shansi would gladly eat anything, but I speak of the - refined Chinaman. Here in this market, whether he was refined or not, he - had got over these fancies and there was much butter and delicious soured - cream for sale. My Polish Jewess and I laboured under the usual difficulty - of language, but she made me understand I had better buy a basket for my - provisions, a plate, a knife, a fork—I had left these things behind - in China, not thinking I should want them—a tumbler and a couple of - kettles. No self-respecting person, according to her, would dream of - travelling in Siberia without at least a couple of kettles. I laid in two - of blue enamel ware and I am bound to say I blessed her forethought many - and many a time. - </p> - <p> - Then we proceeded to buy provisions, and here I lost my way. She engaged a - stray Chinaman, at least I think he was a Chinaman, with a dash of the - gorilla in him, to carry the goods, and I thought she was provisioning her - family against a siege or that perhaps there was only one market a month - in Kharbin. Anyhow I did not feel called upon to interfere. It didn't seem - any concern of mine and she had a large little family. We bought bread in - large quantities, ten cucumbers, two pounds of butter, two pounds of cream—for - these we bought earthenware jars—two dozen bananas, ten eggs and two - pounds of tea. And then I discovered these were the provisions for my - journey to Vladivostok, twenty-seven hours away! I never quite knew why I - bought provisions at all, for the train stopped at stations where there - were restaurants even though there was no restaurant car attached to it. - Mr Sly warned me to travel first class and I had had no thought of doing - aught else, for travelling is very cheap and very good in Russia, but Mr - Poland thought differently. - </p> - <p> - “I arrange,” said he, “I arrange, and you see if you are not comfortable.” - </p> - <p> - I am bound to say I was, very comfortable, for Buchanan and I had a very - nice second-class carriage all to ourselves. At every station a conductor - appeared to know if I wanted boiling water, and we had any amount of good - things to eat, for the ten eggs had been hard boiled by Mrs “Poland,” and - the bread and butter and cream and cucumbers and bananas were as good as - ever I have tasted. I also had two pounds of loaf sugar, German beet, I - think, and some lemons. - </p> - <p> - And so we went east through the wooded hills of Manchuria. They were - covered with lush grass restfully green, and there were flowers, purple - and white and yellow and red, lifting their starry faces to the cloudy - sky, and a soft damp air blew in through the open window. Such a change it - was after China, with its hard blue skies, brilliant sunshine and dry, - invigorating air. But the Manchus were industrious as the Chinese - themselves, and where there were fields the crops were tended as carefully - as those in China proper, only in between were the pasture-lands and the - flowers that were a delight to me, who had not seen a flower save those in - pots since I came to China. - </p> - <p> - I spread out my rugs and cushions and, taking off my clothes and getting - into a kimono—also bought in the Kharbin market; a man's kimono as - the women's are too narrow—I slept peacefully, and in the morning I - found we had climbed to the top of the ridge, the watershed, the pleasant - rain was falling softly, all around was the riotous green, and peasants, - Russian and Chinese, came selling sweet red raspberries in little baskets - of green twigs. - </p> - <p> - And the flowers, the flowers of Siberia! After all I had heard about them, - they were still something more beautiful than I could have hoped for; and - then the rain passed, the life-giving rain, the rain that smoothed away - all harshness and gave such a charm and a softness to the scenery. And it - was vast. China was so crowded I never had a sense of vastness there; but - this was like Australia, great stretches of land under the sky, green, - rich lush green, and away in the distance was a dim line of blue hills. - Then would come a little corrugated-iron-roofed town sprawled out over the - mighty plain, a pathway to it across the surrounding green, and then the - sun came out and the clouds threw great shadows and there was room to see - the outline of their shapes on the green grass. - </p> - <p> - There were Chinese still on the stations, but they were becoming more and - more Russianised. They still wore queues, but they had belted Russian - blouses and top-boots, and they mixed on friendly terms with - flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Russians similarly attired. And the evening - shadows gathered again and in the new world we steamed into Vladivostok. - </p> - <p> - The Russians I came across did not appreciate fresh air. The porter of a - hotel captured me and Buchanan, and when we arrived on a hot July night I - was shown into a bedroom with double windows hermetically sealed and the - cracks stopped up with cotton wool! - </p> - <p> - I protested vehemently and the hotel porter looked at me in astonishment. - Tear down those carefully stopped-up cracks! Perish the thought. However, - I persuaded him down that cotton wool must come, and he pulled it down - regretfully. I called at the British consulate next day and asked them to - recommend me to the best hotel, but they told me I was already there and - could not better myself, so I gave myself up to exploring the town in the - Far East where now the Czech Slovaks have established themselves. - </p> - <p> - It is a beautifully situated town set in the hills alongside a narrow arm - of the sea, rather a grey sea with a grey sky overhead, and the hills - around were covered with the luxuriant green of midsummer, midsummer in a - land where it is winter almost to June. The principal buildings in - Vladivostok are rather fine, but they are all along the shore, and once - you go back you come into the hills where the wood-paved streets very - often are mere flights of steps. It is because of that sheltered arm of - the sea that here is a town at all. - </p> - <p> - Along the shore are all manner of craft. The British fleet had come on a - visit, and grey and grim the ships lay there on the grey sea, like a - Turner picture, with, for a dash of colour, the Union Jacks. The Russian - fleet was there too, welcoming their guests, and I took a boat manned by a - native of the country, Mongolian evidently, with, of course, an unknown - tongue, but whether he was Gold or Gilyak I know not. He was a good - boatman, for a nasty little sea got up and James Buchanan told me several - times he did not like the new turn our voyaging had taken, and then, poor - little dog, he was violently sick. I know the torments of sea-sickness are - not lightly to be borne, so after sailing round the fleets I went ashore - and studied the shipping from the firm land. - </p> - <p> - I was glad then that Mr Sly at Kharbin had insisted that I should see the - Russian port. The whole picture was framed in green, soft tender green, - edged with grey mist, and all the old forgotten ships of wood, the ships - that perhaps were sailed by my grandfather in the old East India Company, - seemed to have found a resting-place here. They were drawn up against the - shore or they were going down the bay with all their sails set, and the - sunlight breaking through the clouds touched the white sails and made them - mountains of snow. There was shipbuilding going on too, naturally—for - are there not great stores of timber in the forests behind?—and - there were ships unloading all manner of things. Ships brought vegetables - and fruit; ships brought meat; there were fishing-boats, hundreds of them - close against each other along the shore, and on all the small ships, at - the mast-heads, were little fluttering white butterflies of flags. What - they were there for I do not know, or what they denoted. Oh, the general - who commands the Czech Slovaks has a splendid base. I wish him all - success. And here were the sealing-ships, the ships that presently would - go up to the rookeries to bring away the pelts. - </p> - <p> - One of my brothers was once navigating lieutenant on the British ship that - guarded the rookeries “north of 53°,” and I remembered, as Buchanan and I - walked along the shore, the tales he had told me of life in these parts. - His particular ship had acquired two sheep, rather an acquisition for men - who had lived long off the Chinese coast, and had a surfeit of chickens; - so while they were eating one, thinking to save the other a long sea - voyage they landed him on an island, giving him in charge of the man, an - Aleut Indian, my brother called him, who ruled the little place. Coming - back they were reduced to salt and tinned food, but they cheered - themselves with thoughts of the mutton chops that should regale them when - they met again their sheep. Alas for those sailor-men! They found the - Indian, but the sheep was not forthcoming. - </p> - <p> - His whilom guardian was most polite. He gave them to understand he was - deeply grieved, but unfortunately he had been obliged to slay the sheep as - he was killing the fowls! - </p> - <p> - The ward-room mess realised all too late that mutton was appreciated in - other places than on board his Majesty's ships. - </p> - <p> - I thought all the races of the earth met in Kharbin, but I don't know that - this port does not run it very close. There were Japanese, Chinese, - Russians, Koreans in horsehair hats and white garments; there were the - aboriginal natives of the country and there were numberless Germans. And - then, in July, 1914, these people, I think, had no thought of the World's - War. - </p> - <p> - And here I came across a new way of carrying, for all the porters had - chairs strapped upon their backs and the load, whatever it was, was placed - upon the chair. Of all ways I have seen, that way strikes me as being the - best, for the weight is most evenly distributed. Most of the porters, I - believe, were Koreans, though they did not wear white; nor did they wear a - hat of any description; their long black, hair was twisted up like a - woman's, but they were vigorous and stalwart. We left weakness behind us - in China. Here the people looked as if they were meat-fed, and though they - might be dirty—they generally were—they all looked as if they - had enough. - </p> - <p> - Always the principal streets were thronged with people. At night the town - all lighted up is like a crescent of sparkling diamonds flung against the - hill-sides, and when I went to the railway station to take train for - Kharbarosvk, thirty hours away, at the junction of the Ussuri and the - Amur, that large and spacious building was a seething mass of people of - apparently all classes and all nationalities, and they were giving voice - to their feelings at the top of their lungs. Everybody, I should think, - had a grievance and was makin the most of it. I had not my capable Mr - Poland to arrange for me, so I went first class—the exact fare I - have forgotten, but it was ridiculously low—and Buchanan and I had a - compartment all to ourselves. Indeed I believe we were the only - first-class passengers. I had my basket and my kettles and I had laid in - store of provisions, and we went away back west for a couple of hours, and - then north into the spacious green country where there was room and more - than room for everybody. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X—ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREAT RIVERS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>ll the afternoon - we went back on our tracks along the main line, the sea on one side and - the green country, riotous, lush, luxuriant, on the other, till at last we - reached the head of the gulf and took our last look at the Northern Sea; - grey like a silver shield it spread before us, and right down to the very - water's edge came the vivid green. And then we turned inland, and - presently we left the main line and went north. Above was the grey sky, - and the air was soft and cool and delicious. I had had too much - stimulation and I welcomed, as I had done the rains after the summer in my - youth, the soft freshness of the Siberian summer. - </p> - <p> - There were soldiers everywhere, tall, strapping, virile Russians; there - were peasants in belted, blouses, with collars all of needlework; and - there were Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, and the natives of the country, men - with a strong Mongolian cast of countenance. The country itself was - strangely empty after teeming China, but these all travelled by train or - were to be found on the railway stations and at the fishing stations that - we passed, but apparently I was the only bloated aristocrat who travelled - first class. In normal times this made travelling fairly easy in Russia, - for it was very cheap and you could generally get a carriage to yourself. - </p> - <p> - Oh! but it was lovely; the greenness of the country was a rest to eyes - wearied with the dust and dirt of China. And there were trees—not - trees denuded of all but enough timber to make a bare livelihood possible, - but trees growing luxuriantly in abundant leaf after their own free will, - oaks and firs and white-stemmed, graceful birches bending daintily before - the soft breeze. At the stations the natives, exactly like Chinamen, dirty - and in rags, brought strawberries for sale; and there were always flowers—purple - vetches and gorgeous red poppies, tall foxgloves and blue spikes of - larkspur. The very antithesis of China it was, for this was waste land and - undeveloped. The very engines were run with wood, and there were stacks of - wood by the wayside waiting to be burnt. I was sorry—I could not but - be sorry. I have seen my own people cut down the great forests of Western - Victoria, and here were people doing the same, with exactly the same - wanton extravagance, and in this country, with its seven months of bitter - winter, in all probability the trees take three times as long to come to - maturity. But it is virgin land, this glorious fertile country, and was - practically uninhabited till the Russian Government planted here and there - bands of Cossacks who, they say, made no endeavour to develop the land. - The Koreans and the Japanese and the Chinese came creeping in, but the - Russians made an effort to keep them out. But still the population is - scanty. Always, though it was before the war, there were soldiers—soldiers - singly, soldiers in pairs, soldiers in little bands; a horseman appeared - on a lonely road, he was a soldier; a man came along driving a cart, he - was a soldier; but the people we saw were few, for the rigours of this - lovely land in the winter are terrible, and this was the dreaded land - where Russia sent her exiles a long, long way from home. - </p> - <p> - Farther we went into the hills; a cuckoo called in the cool and dewy - morning; there were lonely little cottages with wooden roofs and log - walls; there were flowering creepers round the windows, and once I saw a - woman's wistful face peeping out at the passing train, the new train that - at last was bringing her nearer the old home and that yet seemed to - emphasise the distance. We went along by a river, the Ussuri, that wound - its way among the wooded green hills and by still pools of water that - reflected in their depths the blue sky, soft with snow-white clouds. A - glorious land this land of exile! At the next station we stopped at the - people were seated at a table having a meal under the shade of the trees. - Then there was a lonely cross of new wood; someone had been laid in his - long last home in the wilderness and would never go back to Holy Russia - again; and again I thought of the woman's wistful face that peered out of - the flower-bordered window. - </p> - <p> - This is a new line. Formerly the way to Kharbarosvk was down the Amur - river from the west, and that, I suppose, is why all this country of the - Amur Province south and east of the river is so lonely. - </p> - <p> - As we neared Kharbarosvk came signs of settlement, the signs of settlement - I had been accustomed to in Australia. There were tree stumps, more and - more, and anything more desolate than a forest of newly cut tree stumps I - don't know. It always spells to me ruthless destruction. I am sure it did - here, for they cut down recklessly, sweeping all before them. It seemed to - cry out, as all newly settled land that ever I have seen, and I have seen - a good deal, the distaste of the people who here mean to make their homes. - These are not our trees, they say; they are not beautiful like the trees - of our own old home; let us cut them down, there are plenty; by and by - when we have time, when we are settled, we will plant trees that really - are worth growing. We shall not see them, of course, our children will - benefit little; but they will be nice for our grandchildren, if we hold on - so long. But no one believes they will stay so long; they hope to make - money and go back. Meanwhile they want the timber, but they neglect to - plant fresh trees. - </p> - <p> - They wanted the timber to build Kharbarosvk. This is a town of the - outposts, a frontier town; there are no towns like it in the British - Isles, where they value their land and build towns compactly, but I have - seen its counterpart many a time in Australia, and I know there must be - its like in America and Canada. It straggled all along the river bank, and - its wide streets, streets paved, or rather floored, here and there with - planks of wood, were sparsely planted with houses. In one respect - Australian towns of the frontier are much wiser. When there is a train - they do build their stations with some regard for the comfort and - convenience of the inhabitants. In Russia wherever I have been the railway - station is a long distance, sometimes half-an-hour's drive, from the town - it serves. I suppose it is one of the evils of the last bad regime and - that in the future, the future which is for the people, it will be - remedied, but it is difficult to see what purpose it serves. I had to get - a droshky to the hotel. We drove first along a country road, then through - the wide grass-grown streets of the town, and I arrived at the principal - hotel, kept by a German on Russian lines, for the restaurant was perfectly - distinct from the living-rooms. I put it on record it was an excellent - restaurant; I remember that cold soup—the day was hot—and that - most fragrant coffee still. - </p> - <p> - From the windows of my bedroom I saw another of the world's great rivers. - I looked away over a wide expanse of water sparkling in the sunshine: it - was the junction of the Ussuri and the Amur, and it was like a great lake - or the sea. It was very, very still, clear as glass, and the blue sky and - white clouds were reflected in it, and there were green islands and low - green banks. All was colour, but soft colour without outlines, like a - Turner picture. - </p> - <p> - The Amur is hard frozen for about five months of the year and for about - two more is neither good solid ice nor navigable water. It is made by the - joining of the Shilka and the Aigun in about lat. 53° N. 121° E., and, - counting in the Shilka, must be nearly three thousand miles in length, and - close on two thousand miles have I now travelled. I don't know the Amur, - of course, but at least I may claim to have been introduced to it, and - that, I think, is more than the majority of Englishmen may do. And oh, it - is a mighty river! At Kharbarosvk, over a thousand versts—about six - hundred and forty miles—from the sea, it is at least a mile and a - third wide, and towards the mouth, what with backwaters and swamps, it - takes up sometimes about forty miles of country, while the main channel is - often nearly three miles wide. It rises in the hills of Trans-Baikal—the - Yablonoi Mountains we used to call them when I was at school. Really I - think it is the watershed that runs up East Central Siberia and turns the - waters to the shallow Sea of Okhotsk; and it cuts its way through wooded - hills among rich land hardly as yet touched by agriculture, beautiful, - lovely hills they are, steep and wooded. It climbs down into the flat - country and then again, just before it reaches the sea, it is in the - hills, colder hills this time, though the Amur falls into the sea on much - the same parallel of latitude as that which sees it rise, only it seems to - me that the farther you get east the colder and more extreme is the - climate. For Nikolayeusk at the mouth is in the same latitude as London, - but as a port it is closed for seven months of the year. True, the winter - in Siberia is lovely, bright, clear cold, a hard, bright clearness, but - the thermometer is often down below -40° - </p> - <p> - Fahrenheit, and when that happens life is difficult for both man and - beast. No wonder it is an empty river. The wonder to me is that there - should be so much life as there is. For in those five months that it is - open fine large steamers run from Nikolayeusk by Ivharbarosvk to - Blagovesehensk, and smaller ones, but still rather fine, to Stretensk, - where river navigation, for steamers of any size at any rate, ceases. - There are the two months, April-May, September-October, when the river - cannot be used at all, and there are the winter months when it may be, and - is to a certain extent, used as a road, but with the thermometer down far - below zero no one is particularly keen on travelling. It has its - disadvantages. So most of the travelling is done in the summer months and - in 1914 the steamers were crowded. Now, I suppose, they are fighting - there. It is a country well worth fighting for. - </p> - <p> - It was a curious contrast, the lonely empty river and the packed steamer. - It was an event when we passed another; two made a crowd; and very, very - seldom did we pass more than two in a day. But it was delightful moving - along, the great crowded steamer but a puny thing on the wide river, the - waters still and clear, reflecting the blue sky and the soft white clouds - and the low banks far, far away. When there were hills they were generally - closer, as if the river had had more trouble in cutting a passage and - therefore had not had time to spread itself as it did in the plain - country. The hills were densely wooded, mostly with dark firs, with an - occasional deciduous tree showing up brightly among the dark foliage, and - about Blagovesehensk there is a beautiful oak known as the velvet oak, the - wood of which is much sought for making furniture. However dense the - forest, every here and there would be a wide swath of green bare of trees—a - fire brake; for these forests in the summer burn fiercely, and coming back - I saw the valleys thick with the curling blue wood smoke, smelt the - aromatic smell of the burning fir woods, and at night saw the hills - outlined in flames. It was a gorgeous sight, but it is desperately - destructive for the country, especially a country where the wood grows so - slowly. But at first there were no fires, and what struck me was the - vastness and the loneliness of the mighty river. I had the same feeling on - the Congo in the tropics, a great and lonely river with empty banks, but - that was for a distance under two hundred miles. Here in the north the - great lonely river went wandering on for ten times as far, and still the - feeling when one stood apart from the steamer was of loneliness and - grandeur. Man was such a small thing here. At night a little wind sighed - over the waters or swept down between the hills; round the bows the water - rose white; there was a waste of tossing water all round, under a lowering - sky, and the far-away banks were lost in the gloom. A light would appear, - perhaps two lights shining out of the darkness, but they only emphasised - the loneliness. A wonderful river! - </p> - <p> - The navigation of the river is a profession in itself. There is a school - for the navigators at Blagoveschensk where they are properly trained. All - along we came across the red beacons that mark the way, while beside them - in the daytime we could see the cabins of the lonely men who tended them. - </p> - <p> - Truly a voyage down the Amur in summer is not to be easily forgotten, and - yet, sitting here writing about it in my garden in Kent, I sometimes - wonder did I dream it all, the vastness and the loneliness and the - grandeur that is so very different from the orchard land wherein is set my - home. You do not see orchards on the Amur, the climate is too rigorous, - and I doubt if they grow much beyond berries, a blue berry in large - quantities, raspberries, and coming back we bought cucumbers. - </p> - <p> - Oh, but it was lovely on that river. Dearly should I like to share its - delights with a companion who could discuss it with me, but somehow it - seems to be my lot to travel alone. - </p> - <p> - Not, of course, that I was really alone. Though the steamers were few, - perhaps because they were few, they were crowded. There were two companies - on the river, the Sormovo or quick-sailing company, and the Amur Company; - and I hereby put it on record that the Amur Company is much the best. The - <i>John Cockerill</i>, named after some long-dead English engineer who was - once on the Amur, is one of the best and most comfortable. - </p> - <p> - At Kharbarosvk, finding the steamer did not leave till the evening of the - next day, I had naturally gone to a hotel. It seemed the obvious thing to - do. But I was wrong. The great Russian steamship companies, with a - laudable desire to keep passengers and make them comfortable, always allow - a would-be traveller to spend at least two days on board in the ports, - paying, of course, for his food. And I, who had only come about thirty-six - hours too soon, had actually put up at a hotel, with the <i>John Cockerill</i> - lying at the wharf. The Russo-Asiatic Bank, as represented by a woman - clerk, the only one there who could speak English, was shocked at my - extravagance and said so. These women clerks were a little surprise for - me, for in 1914 I was not accustomed to seeing women in banks, but here in - Eastern Siberia—in Vladivostok, Kharbarosvk, and all the towns of - the Amur—they were as usual as the men. - </p> - <p> - The <i>John Cockerill</i> surprised me as much as I surprised the bank - clerk. To begin with, I didn't realise it was the <i>John Cockerill</i>, - for I could not read the Russian letters, and at first I did not recognise - the name as pronounced by the Russians. She was a very gorgeous, - comfortable ship, with a dining saloon and a lounge gorgeous in green - velvet. And yet she was not a post steamer, but spent most of her time - drawing barges laden with cargo, and stopped to discharge and take in at - all manner of lonely little ports on the great river. She was a big - steamer, divided into four classes, and was packed with passengers: - Russians in the first, second and third class, with an occasional German - or Japanese, and in the fourth an extraordinary medley of poorer Russians, - Chinese and Gilyaks and Golds, the aboriginals of the country, men with a - Mongolian east of countenance, long coarse blaek hair, very often beards, - and dirty—the ordinary poor Chinaman is clean and tidy beside them. - </p> - <p> - But the first class was luxurious. We had electric light and hot and cold - water. The cabins were not to hold more than two, and you brought your own - bedding. I dare say it could have been hired on the steamer, but the - difficulty of language always stood in my way, and once away from the - seaboard in North-Eastern Asia the only other European language beside - Russian that is likely to be understood is German, and I have no German. I - was lucky enough on the <i>John Cockerill</i> to find the wife of a - Russian colonel who spoke a little English. She, with her husband, was - taking a summer holiday by journeying up to Nikolayeusk, and she very - kindly took Buchanan and me under her wing and interpreted for us. It was - very nice for me, and the only thing I had to complain of on that steamer - was the way in which the night watch promenading the deek shut my window - and slammed to the shutters. They did it every night, with a care for my - welfare I could have done without. In a river steamer the cabins are all - in the centre with the deck round, and the watch evidently could not - understand how any woman could really desire to sleep under an open - window. I used to get up early in the morning and walk round the decks, - and I found that first and second class invariably shut their windows - tight, though the nights were always just pleasantly cool, and - consequently those passages between the cabins smelt like a menagerie, and - an ill-kept menagerie at that. They say Russians age early and invariably - they are of a pallid complexion. I do not wonder, now that I have seen - their dread of fresh air. Again and again I was told: “Draughts are not - good!” Draughts! I'd rather sleep in a hurricane than in the hermetically - sealed boxes in which those passengers stowed themselves on board the - river steamers. On the <i>John Cockerill</i> the windows of the dining - saloon and the lounge did open, but on the steamer on which I went up the - river, the <i>Kanovina</i>, one of the “Sormovo” Company, and the mail - steamer, there was only one saloon in the first class. We had our meals - and we lived there. It was a fine large room placed for'ard in the ship's - bows, with beautiful large windows of glass through which we could see - excellently the scenery; but those windows were fast; they would not open; - they were not made to open. The atmosphere was always thick when I went in - for breakfast in the morning, and I used to make desperate efforts to get - the little windows that ran round the top opened. I could not do it - myself, as you had to get on the roof of the saloon, the deck where the - look-out stood, and anyhow they were only little things, a foot high by - two feet broad. But such an innovation was evidently regarded as - dangerous. Besides the fact that draughts were bad, I have been assured - that perhaps it was going to rain—the rain couldn't come in both - sides—and at night I was assured they couldn't be opened because the - lights would be confusing to other steamers! - </p> - <p> - Nobody seemed to mind an atmosphere you could have cut with a knife. I am - sure if the walls had been taken away it would have stood there in a solid - block—a dark-coloured, high-smelling block, I should think. I gave - up trying to do good to a community against its will and used to carry my - meals outside and have them on the little tables that were dotted about - the deck. - </p> - <p> - After all, bar that little difficulty about the air—and certainly if - right goes with the majority I have no cause of complaint, I was in a - minority of one—those steamers made the most comfortable and - cheapest form of travelling I have ever undertaken. From Kharbarosvk to - Nikolayeusk for over three days' voyage my fare with a first-class cabin - to myself was twelve roubles—about one pound four shillings. I came - back by the mail steamer and it was fifteen roubles—about one pound - ten shillings. This, of course, does not include food. Food on a Russian - steamer you buy as you would on a railway train. You may make arrangements - with the restaurant and have breakfast, luncheon, afternoon tea and dinner - for so much a day; or you may have each meal separate and pay for it as - you have it; or you may buy your food at the various stopping-places, get - your kettles filled with hot water for a trifling tip, and feed yourself - in the privacy of your own cabin. I found the simplest way, having no - servant, was to pay so much a day—five shillings on the big - steamers, four shillings on the smaller one—and live as I would do - at a hotel. The food was excellent on the Amur Company's ships. We had - chicken and salmon—not much salmon, it was too cheap—and - sturgeon. Sturgeon, that prince of fish, was a treat, and caviare was as - common as marmalade used to be on a British breakfast-table. It was - generally of the red variety that we do not see here and looked not unlike - clusters of red currants, only I don't know that I have ever seen currants - in such quantities. I enjoyed it very much till one day, looking over the - railing into the stern of the boat, where much of the food was roughly - prepared—an unwise thing to do—I saw an extremely dirty woman - of the country, a Gilyak, in an extremely dirty garment, with her dirty - bare arms plunged to the elbow in the red caviare she was preparing for - the table. Then I discovered for a little while that I didn't much fancy - caviare. But I wish I had some of that nice red caviare now. - </p> - <p> - The second class differed but little from the first. There was not so much - decoration about the saloons, and on the <i>John Cockerill</i>, where the - first class had two rooms, they had only one; and the food was much the - same, only not so many courses. There was plenty, and they only paid three - shillings a day for the four meals. The people were much the same as we in - the first class, and I met a girl from Samara, in Central Russia, who - spoke a little French. She was a teacher and was going to Nikolayeusk for - a holiday exactly as I have seen teachers here in England go to - Switzerland. - </p> - <p> - But between the first and second and the third and fourth class was a - great gulf fixed. They were both on the lower deck, the third under the - first and the fourth under the second, while amidships between them were - the kitchens and the engines and the store of wood for fuel. The third had - no cabins, but the people went to bed and apparently spent their days in - places like old-fashioned dinner-wagons; and they bought their own food, - either from the steamer or at the various stopping-places, and ate it on - their beds, for they had no saloon. The fourth class was still more - primitive. The passengers, men, women and children, were packed away upon - shelves rising in three tiers, one above the other, and the place of each - man and woman was marked out by posts. There was no effort made to provide - separate accommodation for men and women. As far as I could see, they all - herded together like cattle. - </p> - <p> - The ship was crowded. The Russian colonel's wife and I used to walk up and - down the long decks for exercise, with Buchanan in attendance, she - improving her English and I learning no Russian. It is evidently quite the - custom for the people of the great towns of the Amur to make every summer - an excursion up the river, and the poorer people, the third and fourth - class, go up to Nikolayeusk for the fishing. Hence those shelves crowded - with dirty folk. There were troughs for washing outside the fourth class, - I discovered, minor editions of our luxurious bathrooms in the first - class, but I am bound to say they did not have much use. Washing even in - this hot weather, and it certainly was pleasantly warm, was more honoured - in the breach than in the observance. The only drawback to the bathrooms - in the first class, from my point of view, was their want of air. They - were built so that apparently there was no means of getting fresh air into - them, and I always regarded myself as a very plucky woman when in the - interests of cleanliness I had a bath. The hot water and the airlessness - always brought me to such a condition of faintness that I generally had to - rush out and lie on the couch in my cabin to recover, and then if somebody - outside took it upon them to bang to the window I was reduced to the last - gasp. - </p> - <p> - The <i>John Cockerill</i> was run like a man-of-war. The bells struck the - hours and half-hours, the captain and officers were clad in white and - brass-bound, and the men were in orthodox sailor's rig. One man came and - explained to me—he spoke no tongue that I could understand, but his - meaning was obvious—that Buchanan was not allowed on the first-class - deck, the rules and regulations, so said the colonel's wife, said he was - not; but no one seemed to object, so I thought to smooth matters by paying - half-a-rouble; then I found that every sailor I came across apparently - made the same statement, and having listened to one or two, at last I - decided to part with no more cash, and it was, I suppose, agreed that - Buchanan had paid his footing, for they troubled me no more about him. - </p> - <p> - Three or four times a day we pulled up at some little wayside place, - generally only two or three log-houses with painted doors or windows, an - occasional potato patch and huge stacks of wood to replenish the fuel of - the steamer, and with much yelling they put out a long gangway, and while - the wood was brought on board we all went ashore to see the country. The - country was always exactly alike, vast and green and lonely, the sparse - human habitations emphasising that vastness and loneliness. The people - were few. The men wore belted blouses and high boots and very often, - though it was summer, fur caps, and the women very voluminous and very - dirty skirts with unbelted blouses, a shawl across their shoulders and a - kerchief on their unkempt hair. They were dirty; they were untidy; they - were uneducated; they belonged to the very poorest classes; and I think I - can safely say that all the way from Kharbarosvk to Nikolayeusk the only - attempt at farming I saw was in a few scattered places where the grass had - been cut and tossed up into haycocks. And yet those people impressed upon - me a sense of their virility and strength, a feeling that I had never had - when moving among the Chinese, where every inch of land—bar the - graves—is turned to good account. Was it the condition of the women? - I wonder. I know I never saw one of those stalwart women pounding along on - her big flat feet without a feeling of gladness and thankfulness. Here at - least was good material. It was crude and rough, of course, but it was - there waiting for the wheel of the potter. Shall we find the potter in the - turmoil of the revolution and the war? - </p> - <p> - We went on, north, north with a little of east, and it grew cooler and the - twilight grew longer. I do not know how other people do, but I count my - miles and realise distances from some distance I knew well in my youth. So - I know that from Kharbarosvk to Nikolaycusk is a little farther away than - is Melbourne from Sydney; and always we went by way of the great empty - land, by way of the great empty river. Sometimes far in the distance we - could see the blue hills; sometimes the hills were close; but always it - was empty, because the few inhabitants, the house or two at the little - stopping-places where were the piles of wood for the steamer, but - emphasised the loneliness and emptiness. You could have put all the people - we saw in a street of a suburb of London and lost them, and I suppose the - distance traversed was as far as from London to Aberdeen. It was a - beautiful land, a land with a wondrous charm, but it is waiting for the - colonist who will dare the rigours of the winter and populate it. - </p> - <p> - At last we steamed up to the port of Nikolayeusk, set at the entrance of - the shallow Sea of Okhotsk, right away in the east of the world. When I - set foot upon the wharf among all the barrels with which it was packed I - could hardly believe I had come so far east, so far away from my regular - beat. One of my brothers always declares I sent him to sea because my sex - prevented me from going, and yet here I was, in spite of that grave - disadvantage, in as remote a corner of the earth as even he might have - hoped to attain. - </p> - <p> - It was a July day, sunny and warm. They had slain an Austrian archduke in - Serbia and the world was on the verge of the war of the ages, but I knew - nothing of all that. I stepped off the steamer and proceeded to - investigate Nikolayeusk, well satisfied with the point at which I had - arrived. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI—THE ENDS OF THE EARTH - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>ikolayeusk seemed - to me the ends of the earth. I hardly know why it should have done so, for - I arrived there by way of a very comfortable steamer and I have made my - way to very much more ungetatable places. I suppose the explanation is - that all the other places I have visited I had looked up so long on the - map that when I arrived I only felt I was attaining the goal I had set out - to reach, whereas I must admit I had never heard of Nikolayeusk till Mr - Sly, the British consul, sketched it out as the end of my itinerary on the - Siberian rivers, and ten days later I found myself in the Far Eastern - town. I remember one of my brothers writing to me once from - Petropaulovski: - </p> - <p> - “I always said my address would some day be Kamseatkha and here I am!” - </p> - <p> - Well, I never said my address would be Nikolayeusk because I had never - heard of it, but here I was nevertheless. The weather was warm, the sun - poured down from a cloudless blue sky, and in the broad, grass-grown - streets, such streets have I seen in Australian towns, when the faint - breeze stirred the yellow dust rose on the air. And the town straggled all - along the northern side of the river, a town of low, one-storeyed wooden - houses for the most part, with an occasional two-storeyed house and heavy - shutters to all the windows. There was a curious absence of stone, and the - streets when they were paved at all were, as in Kharbarosvk, lines of - planks, sometimes three, sometimes five planks wide, with a waste of dust - or mud or grass, as the case might be, on either side. - </p> - <p> - The Russians I found kindness itself. In Vladivostok I had met a man who - knew one of my brothers—I sometimes wonder if I could get to such a - remote corner of the earth that I should not meet someone who knew one of - these ubiquitous brothers of mine—and this good friend, having - sampled the family, took me on trust and found someone else who would give - me a letter to the manager of the Russo-Asiatic Bank at Nikolayeusk. This - was a godsend, for Mr Pauloff spoke excellent English, and he and his - corresponding clerk, a Russian lady of middle age who had spent a long - time in France, took me in hand and showed me the sights. Madame Schulmann - and I and Buchanan drove all over the town in one of the most ancient - victorias I have ever seen—the most ancient are in Saghalien, which - is beyond the ends of the earth—and she very kindly took me to a - meal at the principal hotel. I was staying on board the steamer while I - looked around me. The visit with this lady decided me not to go there. It - wras about four o'clock in the afternoon, so I don't know whether our meal - was dinner or tea or luncheon; we had good soup, I remember, and nice - wine, to say nothing of excellent coffee, but the atmosphere left much to - be desired. I don't suppose the windows ever had been opened since the - place was built, and no one seemed to see any necessity for opening them. - My hostess smiled at my distress. She said she liked fresh air herself but - that for a whole year she had lodged in a room where the windows would not - open. She had wanted to have one of the panes—not the window, just - one of the panes—made to open to admit fresh air, and had offered to - do it at her own expense, but her landlord refused. It would spoil the - look of the room. She advised me strongly if I wanted fresh air to stay as - long as I could on board the steamer at the wharf, and I decided to take - her advice. - </p> - <p> - The Russo-Asiatic Bank was not unlike the banks I have seen in Australian - townships, in that it was built of wood of one storey and the manager and - his wife lived on the premises, but the roof was far more ornamental than - Australia could stand and gave the touch of the East that made for - romance. The manager was good enough to ask me to dinner and to include - Buchanan in the invitation because I did not like to leave the poor little - chap shut up in my cabin. This was really dinner, called so, and we had it - at five o'clock of a hot summer's afternoon, a very excellent dinner, with - delicious sour cream in the soup and excellent South Australian wine, not - the stuff that passes for Australian wine in England and that so many - people take medicinally, but really good wine, such as Australians - themselves drink. The house was built with a curious lack of partitions - that made for spaciousness, so that you wandered from one room to another, - hardly knowing that you had gone from the sitting-room to the bedroom, and - James Buchanan going on a voyage of discovery unfortunately found the - cradle, to the dismay of his mistress. He stood and looked at it and - barked. - </p> - <p> - “Gracious me! What's this funny thing! I've never seen anything like it - before!” - </p> - <p> - Neither had I; but I was covered with shame when a wail proclaimed the - presence of the son and heir. - </p> - <p> - Naturally I expressed myself—truly—charmed with the town, and - Mr Pauloff smiled and nodded at his wife, who spoke no English. - </p> - <p> - “She hates it,” said he; “she has never been well since we came here.” - </p> - <p> - She was white, poor little girl, as the paper on which this is written, - and very frail-looking, but it never seemed to occur to anyone that it - would be well to open the double windows, and so close was the air of the - room that it made me feel sick and faint. - </p> - <p> - “She never goes out,” said her husband. “She is not well enough.” - </p> - <p> - I believe there was a time in our grandmothers' days when we too dreaded - the fresh air. - </p> - <p> - And in this the town differed markedly from any Australian towns I have - known. The double windows were all tight shut these warm July days, with - all the cracks stopped up with cotton wool, with often decorations of - coloured ribbons or paper wandering across the space between. Also there - were very heavy shutters, and I thought these must be to shut out the - winter storms, but M. Pauloff did not seem to think much of the winter - storms, though he admitted they had some bad blizzards and regularly the - thermometer went down below -40° Fahrenheit. - </p> - <p> - “No,” he said, “we shut them at night, at four in the winter and at nine - in the summer. Leave them open you cannot.” - </p> - <p> - “But why?” I thought it was some device for keeping out still more air. - </p> - <p> - “There is danger,” said he—“danger from men.” - </p> - <p> - “Do they steal?” said I, surprised. - </p> - <p> - “And kill,” he added with conviction. - </p> - <p> - It seems that when the Japanese invaded Saghalien, the great island which - lies opposite the mouth of the Amur, they liberated at least thirty - thousand convicts, and they burnt the records so that no one could prove - anything against them, and the majority of these convicts were unluckily - not all suffering political prisoners, but criminals, many of them of the - deepest dye. These first made Saghalien an unwholesome place to live in, - but gradually they migrated to the mainland, and Nikolayeusk and other - towns of Eastern Siberia are by no means safe places in consequence. - Madame Schulmann told me that many a time men were killed in the open - streets and that going back to her lodgings on the dark winter evenings - she was very much afraid and always tried to do it in daylight. - </p> - <p> - Nikolayeusk is officially supposed to have thirteen thousand inhabitants, - but really in the winter-time, says Mr Pauloff, they shrink to ten - thousand, while in the summer they rise to over forty thousand, everybody - coming for the fishing, the great salmon fisheries. - </p> - <p> - “Here is noting,” said he, “noting—only fish.” - </p> - <p> - And this remark he made at intervals. He could not reiterate it too often, - as if he were warning me against expecting too much from this remote - corner of the world. But indeed the fish interested me. The summer fishing - was on while I was there, but that, it seems, is as nothing to the autumn - fishing, when the fish rush into the wide river in solid blocks. The whole - place then is given over to the fishing and the other trades that fishing - calls into being to support it. All the summer the steamers coming down - the river are crowded, and they bring great cargoes of timber; the wharves - when I was there were covered with barrels and packing-cases containing, - according to Mr Pauloff, “only air.” These were for the fish. And now, - when the humble mackerel costs me at least ninepence or a shilling, I - remember with longing the days when I used to see a man like a Chinaman, - but not a Chinaman, a bamboo across his shoulder, and from each end a - great fresh salmon slung, a salmon that was nearly as long as the bearer, - and I could have bought the two for ten kopecks! - </p> - <p> - He that will not when he may! - </p> - <p> - But great as the trade was down the river, most eatables—groceries, - flour and such-like things—came from Shanghai, and the ships that - brought them took back wood to be made into furniture, and there was, when - I was there, quite a flourishing trade in frozen meat with Australia, - Nikolayeusk requiring about two hundred and forty thousand pounds in the - year. In winter, of course, all the provisions are frozen; the milk is - poured into basins, a stick is stuck in it and it freezes round it, so - that a milk-seller instead of having a large can has an array of sticks on - top of which is the milk frozen hard as a stone. Milk, meat, eggs, all - provisions are frozen from October to May. - </p> - <p> - I do not know what Nikolayeusk is doing now war and revolution have - reached it. At least they have brought it into touch with the outer world. - </p> - <p> - And having got so far I looked longingly out over the harbour and wondered - whether I might not go to Saghalien. - </p> - <p> - Mr Pauloff laughed at my desires. If there was nothing to see in - Nikolayeusk, there was less than nothing in Saghalien. It was dead. It - never had been much and the Japanese invasion had killed it. Not that he - harboured any animosity against the Japanese. Russians and Japanese, he - declared, were on very friendly terms, and though they invaded Saghalien - they did not disgrace their occupation by any atrocities. The Russian, - everybody declared in Nikolayeusk, bridges the gulf between the white man - and the yellow. Russian and Chinese peasants will work side by side in - friendliest fashion; they will occupy the same boardinghouses; the Russian - woman does not object to the Chinese as a husband, and the Russian takes a - Chinese wife. Of course these are the peasant classes. The Russian - authorities made very definite arrangements for keeping out Chinese from - Siberia, as I saw presently when I went back up the river. - </p> - <p> - But the more I thought of it the more determined I was not to go back till - I had gone as far east as I possibly could go. The Russian Volunteer fleet - I found called at Alexandrovsk regularly during the months the sea was - open, making Nikolayeusk its most northern port of call. I could go by the - steamer going down and be picked up by the one coming north. It would give - me a couple of days in the island, and Mr Pauloff was of opinion that a - couple of days would be far too long. - </p> - <p> - But the <i>John Cockerill</i> was going back and Buchanan and I must find - another roof and a resting-place. According to the inhabitants, it would - not be safe to sleep in the streets, and I had conceived a distinct - distaste for the hotel. But the <i>Erivan</i> lay in the stream and to - that we transferred ourselves and our belongings, where the mate spoke - English with a strong Glasgow accent and the steward had a smattering. It - was only a smattering, however. I had had a very early lunch and no - afternoon tea, so when I got on board at six in the evening I was - decidedly hungry and demanded food, or rather when food might be expected. - The steward was in a dilemma. It was distinctly too early for dinner, he - considered, and too late for tea. He scratched his head. - </p> - <p> - “Lunch!” said he triumphantly, and ushered me into the saloon, where hung - large photographs of the Tsar, the Tsarina and the good-looking little - Tsarevitch. In the corner was an ikon, St Nicolas, I think, who protects - sailors. And there at six o'clock in the evening I meekly sat down to - luncheon all by myself. - </p> - <p> - Lying there I had a lovely view of the town. At night, like Vladivostok, - it lay like a ring of diamonds along the shore of the river; and in the - daytime the softly rounded green hills, the grey-blue sky and the - grey-blue sea with the little white wavelets, and the little town just a - line between the green and the blue, with the spires and domes of the - churches and other public buildings, green and blue and red and white, - made a view that was worth coming so far to see. There were ships in the - bay too—not very big ships; but a ship always has an attraction: it - has come from the unknown; it is about to go into the unknown—and as - I sat on deck there came to me the mate with the Scots accent and - explained all about the ships in sight. - </p> - <p> - The place was a fort and they were going to make it a great harbour, to - fill it up till the great ships should lie along the shore. It will take a - good time, for we lay a long way out, but he never doubted the - possibility; and meantime the goods come to the ships in the lighters in - which they have already come down the river, and they are worked by - labourers getting, according to the mate, twelve shillings a day. - </p> - <p> - “Dey carry near as much as we do,” said he. - </p> - <p> - Then there were other ships: a ship for fish, summer fish, for Japan, - sealers for the rookeries, and ships loading timber for Kamseatkha. I - thought I would like to emulate my brother and go there, and the Russky - mate thought it would be quite possible, only very uncomfortable. It would - take three months, said he, and it was rather late in the season now. - Besides, these ships load themselves so with timber that there is only a - narrow space on deck to walk on, and they are packed with passengers, - mostly labourers, going up for the short summer season. - </p> - <p> - My old trouble, want of air, followed me on board the <i>Erivan</i>. On - deck it was cool, at night the thermometer registered about 55° - Fahrenheit, but in my cabin Buehanan and I gasped with the thermometer at - over 90°, and that with the port, a very small one, open. That stuffiness - was horrible. The bathroom looked like a boiler with a tightfitting iron - door right amidships, and having looked at it I had not the courage to - shut myself in and take a bath. It seemed as if it would be burying myself - alive. As it was, sleep down below I could not, and I used to steal up on - deck and with plenty of rugs and cushions lay myself out along the seats - and sleep in the fresh air; but a seat really does leave something to be - desired in the way of luxury. - </p> - <p> - But the early mornings were delightful. The first faint light showed a - mist hanging over the green hills marking out their outlines, green and - blue and grey; then it was all grey mist; but to the east was the crimson - of the dawn, and we left our moorings early one morning and steamed into - that crimson. The sun rose among silver and grey clouds, and rose again - and again as we passed along the river and the mountains hid him from - sight. There were long streaks of silver on the broad river; slowly the - fir-clad hills emerged from the mist and the air was moist and fragrant; - the scent of the sea and the fragrance of the pines was in it. A - delicious, delicate northern sunrise it was; never before or since have I - seen such a sunrise. Never again can I possibly see one more beautiful. - </p> - <p> - And the great river widened. There were little settlements, the - five-pointed tents of the Russian soldiers and many places for catching - fish. No wonder the fish—fish is always salmon here—like this - great -wide river. The brownish water flowed on swiftly and the morning - wind whipped it into never-ending ripples that caught the sunlight. A - wonderful river! A delightful river! I have grown enthusiastic over many - rivers. I know the Murray in my own land and the great rivers of tropical - Africa, the Congo, the Gambia, the Volta, grand and lovely all of them. I - felt I had looked upon the glory of the Lord when I had looked upon them, - but there was something in the tender beauty of the Amur, the summer - beauty veiled in mist, the beauty that would last so short a time, that - was best of all. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the passengers and officers of the <i>Erivan</i> were much - exercised in their minds over me. What could an Englishwoman want in - Saghalien? To my surprise I found that none had ever stayed there before, - though it was on record that one had once landed there from a steamer. The - mate was scathing in his remarks. - </p> - <p> - “Dere are skeeters,” said he, “big ones, I hear,” and he rolled his “r's” - like a true Scotsman. - </p> - <p> - “But where can I stay?” He shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “In de hotel you cannot stay. It is impossible.” That I could quite - believe, but all the same, if the hotel was impossible, where could I - stay? - </p> - <p> - However, here I was, and I did not intend to go back to Vladivostok by - sea. At Alexandrosvk, the town of Saghalien, I proposed to land and I felt - it was no good worrying till I got there. - </p> - <p> - We entered De Castries Bay in a soft grey mist, a mist that veiled the - mountains behind. Then the mist lifted and showed us the string of islands - that guard the mouth of the bay, strung in a line like jewels set in the - sea, and the hills on them were all crowned with firs; and then the mist - dropped again, veiling all things. - </p> - <p> - It was a lonely place, where I, being a foreigner, was not allowed to - land, and we did not go close up to the shore, but the shore came to us in - great white whale-boats. Many peasants and soldiers got off here, and I - saw saws and spades in the bundles, the bundles of emigrants. There were a - few women amongst them, women with hard, elemental faces, so different - from the Chinese, that were vacuous and refined. I remembered the women - who had listened to the lecturer at Fen Chou Fu and I drew a long sigh of - relief. It was refreshing to look at those big-hipped women, with their - broad, strong feet and their broad, strong hands and the little dirty - kerchiefs over their heads. Elemental, rough, rude, but I was glad of - them. One was suckling a child in the boat, calmly, as if it were the most - natural thing to do, and somehow it was good to see it. The beginning of - life. - </p> - <p> - The morning brought a dense mist, and as it cleared away it showed us a - sparkling, smooth sea, greyish-blue like the skies above it, and a little - wooden town nestling against fir-clad hills. We had arrived at - Alexandrosvk and I wondered what would become of me. - </p> - <p> - And then once again I learned what a kind place is this old world of ours - that we abuse so often. I had gone on board that steamer without any - introduction whatever, with only my passport to show that I was a - respectable member of society. I knew nobody and saw no reason whatever - why anyone should trouble themselves about me. But we carried - distinguished passengers on board the <i>Erivan</i>. There was the - Vice-Governor of Saghalien, his wife and son, with the soldiers in - attendance, and a good-looking young fellow with short-cropped hair and - dreamy eyes who was the Assistant Chief of Police of the island, and this - man, by command of the Governor, took me in charge. - </p> - <p> - Never again shall I hear of the Russian police without thinking of the - deep debt of gratitude that I owe to Vladimir Merokushoff of Saghalien. - </p> - <p> - I do not think as a rule that people land from steamers at Alexandrosvk on - to red tapestry carpets under fluttering bruiting to the strains of a - band. But we did; and the Chief of Police—he spoke no language but - Russian—motioned me to wait a moment, and when the Governor had been - safely despatched to his home he appeared on the scene with a victoria and - drove me and Buchanan to the police station, a charming little - one-storeyed building buried in greenery, and there he established us. - Buchanan he appreciated as a dog likes to be appreciated, and he gave up - to me his own bedroom, where the top pane of the window had actually been - made to open. His sitting-room was a very bower of growing plants, and - when I went to bed that night he brought his elderly working housekeeper, - a plain-faced woman whom he called “Stera,” and made her bring her bed and - lay it across my door, which opened into the sitting-room. It was no good - my protesting; there she had to sleep. Poor old thing, she must have been - glad my stay was not long. Every day she wore a blue skirt and a - drab-coloured blouse, unbelted, and her grey hair twisted up into an - untidy knot behind, but she was an excellent cook. That young man got - himself into his everyday holland summer coat and to entertain me - proceeded to lay in enough provisions to supply a hungry school. He showed - me the things first to see if I liked them, as if I wouldn't have liked - shark when people were so kind. But as a matter of fact everything was - very good. He produced a large tin of crawling crayfish, and when I had - expressed not only my approval but my delight, they appeared deliciously - red and white for dinner, and then I found they were only <i>sakouska</i>—that - is, the <i>hors d'ouvre</i> that the Russians take to whet their - appetites. I have often lived well, but never better than when I, a - stranger and a sojourner, was taken in charge by the hospitable Russian - police, who would not let me pay one penny for my board and lodging. We - fed all day long. I had only to come in for a bottle of wine or beer to be - produced. I was given a <i>gens d'arme</i> to carry my camera and another - to take care of Buchanan. Never surely was stranger so well done as I by - hospitable Saghalien. The policeman made me understand he was an author - and presented me with a couple of pamphlets he had written on Saghalien - and its inhabitants, but though I treasure them I cannot read them. Then - the Japanese photographer was sent for and he and I were taken sitting - side by side on the bench in his leafy porch, and, to crown all, because I - could speak no Russian, he sent for two girls who had been educated in - Japan and who spoke English almost as well as I did myself, though they - had never before spoken to an Englishwoman. Marie and Lariss Borodin were - they, and their father kept the principal store in Alexandrosvk. They were - dainty, pretty, dark-eyed girls and they were a godsend to me. They had a - tea in my honour and introduced me to the manager of the coal mine of - Saghalien and took care I should have all the information about the island - it was in their power to supply. - </p> - <p> - There were then about five thousand people there, one thousand in - Alexandrosvk itself, but they were going daily, for the blight of the - convict was over the beautiful land. The best coal mine is closed down on - fire and the one whose manager I met was leased to a company by the year - and worked by Chinese on most primitive lines. There is gold, he told me, - this business man who surprised me by his lavish use of perfume, but he - did not know whether it would pay for working—gold and coal as well - would be almost too much good luck for one island—and there is - naphtha everywhere on the east coast, but as it has never been struck they - think that the main vein must come up somewhere under the sea. Still it is - there waiting for the enterprising man who shall work it. - </p> - <p> - Saghalien used to be as bad as Nikolayeusk, they told me, after the - Japanese had evacuated the northern part; but now the most enterprising - section of the convicts had betaken themselves to the mainland, and though - the free settlers were few and far between, and the most of the people I - saw were convicts, they were the harmless ones with all the devilment gone - out of them. - </p> - <p> - Alexandrosvk is a place of empty houses. When the Japanese came the people - fled, leaving everything exactly as it was; and though the Japanese - behaved with admirable restraint, considering they came as an invading - army, many of these people never came back again, and the alertness in a - bad cause which had sent many of the convicts there against their will - sent them away again as soon as they were free. All down by the long - wooden pier which stretches out into the sea are great wooden storehouses - and barracks, empty, and a monument, if they needed it, to the courteous - manner in which the Japanese make war. They had burnt the museum, they - told me, and opened the prison doors and burnt the prison, but the other - houses they had spared. And so there were many, many empty houses in - Alexandrosvk. - </p> - <p> - All the oldest carriages in the world have drifted to Saghalien. - </p> - <p> - They are decrepit in Western Siberia, they are worse, if possible, in the - East, but in the island of Saghalien I really don't know how they hold - together. Perhaps they are not wanted very often. I hired the most archaic - victoria I have ever seen and the two girls came for a drive with me all - round the town and its neighbourhood. It was a drive to be remembered. The - early summer was in all its full freshness, the red and white cows stood - knee-deep in grass that was green and lush everywhere. There were - fir-trees on the hills and on every spur of the hills, and there were - hedges with dog-roses blossoming all over them; there were fields of dark - blue iris; there were little red tiger lilies and a spiked heliotrope - flower like veronica, only each bloom grew on a single stalk of its own; - there were purple vetches and white spiræa growing in marshy places, and - the land was thick with sweet-scented clover among which the bees were - humming, and in a little village there was a Greek church that, set in its - emerald-green field, was a very riot of colour. There were balls on the - roof of royal blue, the roof itself was of pale green, the walls were of - brown logs untouched by paint and the window edges were picked out in - white. I photographed that picturesque little church, as I did the peasant - women standing at the doors of their log huts and the queer old shandrydan - in which we drove, but alas! all my photographs perished miserably in - Russia. The girls wondered that I liked town and country so much, that I - saw so much beauty in everything. - </p> - <p> - “Ah! Madame,” they sighed, “but you can go away tomorrow! If only we could - go!” - </p> - <p> - They had been educated at a convent and they produced the English books - they had read. They were very apologetic but they had found them rather - tame. Had I read them? I smiled, for they all turned out to be the - immortal works of Charles Garvice! - </p> - <p> - And we had tea in the dining-room, where father slept because they were - rather crowded, the store took up so much room; and it was a very nice tea - too, with raspberry jam in saucers, which we ate Russian fashion with a - spoon, and the roses in the garden tapped against the window-panes, asking - to come in and join us, and Buchanan got what his soul loved, plenty of - cake. They apologised because there was no fruit. No fruit save berries - ripen in Saghalien and the strawberries would not be ready till well on in - August. No words of mine can tell how kind they were to the stranger. - </p> - <p> - I went back in the long twilight that was so cool and restful and sat - outside the leafy shaded police station and killed mosquitoes, for the - mate had heard aright, there were “skeeters” and to spare, the sort to - which Mark Twain took a gun. I watched the grey mist creeping slowly down, - down the beautiful mountains, and when it had enveloped them the night was - come and it was time to go in and have dinner and go to bed. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps it would not do to stay long in Saghalien. There is nothing to do. - She lies a Sleeping Beauty waiting the kiss of the Prince. Will this war - awaken her? The short time I was there I enjoyed every moment. - </p> - <p> - The people seemed nondescript. The upper class were certainly Russians, - and all the men wore military caps and had their hair clipped so close it - looked shaven, but it would be utterly impossible to say to what - nationality the peasant belonged. There were flaxen-haired Russians - certainly, but then there were dark-bearded men, a Mongolian type, and - there were many thrifty Chinese with queues, in belted blouses and high - boots, generally keeping little eating-shops. There may have been - Japanese, probably there were, seeing they hold the lower half of the - island, but I did not notice them, and there is, I am afraid, in that - place which is so full of possibilities absolutely nothing for that - go-ahead nation to do. - </p> - <p> - My pretty girls complained dreadfully. They looked after the shop and then - there was nothing. In the winter they said they had skating and they liked - the winter best, but the really bad time in places like Saghalien and - Nikolayeusk were the two months when it was neither winter nor summer. - Then their only means of communication with the outside world, the river - and the sea, was too full of ice to admit of navigation and yet was not - solid enough for dog-sled, so that if the telegraph broke down, and it - very often did, they are entirely cut off from the world. Saghalien, of - course, is worse off than the town, for on the mainland presumably there - are roads of sorts that can be negotiated in case of necessity, but the - island is entirely isolated. In the winter the mails take five days coming - across the frozen sea from the mainland, and often when there are storms - they take much longer. Fancy living on an island that stretches over - nearly ten degrees of latitude, which for five months in the year gets its - mails by dog-sled and for two goes without them altogether! On the whole, - there may be drawbacks to living in Saghalien! - </p> - <p> - I left it at nine o'clock in the evening, after the darkness had fallen, - and the police officer and the pretty girls saw me on board the steamer - which was to take me back to Nikolayeusk. - </p> - <p> - They loaded me with flowers and they were full of regrets. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Madame, Madame, how lucky you are to get away from Saghalien!” - </p> - <p> - But I said truly enough that I felt my luck lay in getting there. And now - that I sit in my garden in Kent and watch the beans coming into blossom - and the roses into bloom, look at the beds gay with red poppies and - violas, cream and purple, or wander round and calculate the prospects of - fruit on the cherry and the pear trees, I am still more glad to think that - I know what manner of island that is that lies so far away in the Eastern - world that it is almost West. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—FACING WEST - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>n the 25th July - 1914, at nine o'clock in the evening, I left Saghalien, and as the ship - steamed away from the loom of the land into the night I knew that at last, - after eighteen months of voyaging in the East, I had turned my face - homeward. I had enjoyed it, but I wanted to go home, and in my notebook I - see evidences of this longing. At last I was counting the days—one - day to Nikolayeusk, three days to Kharbarosvk, three days more to - Blagoveschensk—and I was out in my calculations in the very - beginning. The ships of the Volunteer fleet take their time, and we took - three days wandering along the island of Saghalien and calling at ports I - should think mail steamer had never before called at before we turned - again towards the mainland. - </p> - <p> - And yet in a way it was interesting, for I saw some of the inhabitants of - the island, the aboriginal inhabitants, I should never have otherwise - seen. Gilyaks they are, and the water seems their element. They have the - long straight black hair of the Mongolian, and sometimes they were clad in - furs—ragged and old and worn, the very last remains of furs—sometimes - merely in dirty clothes, the cast-offs of far-away nations. - </p> - <p> - They live by the fish. There is nothing else. - </p> - <p> - I tried hard to photograph these aborigines, using all sorts of guile to - get them into focus. I produced cigarettes, I offered sugar, but as soon - as they found out what I was about they at once fled, even though their - boat was fastened against the gangway and it meant abandoning somebody who - was on board. I did eventually get some photographs, but they shared the - fate of the rest of my Russian pictures, and I am sorry, for I do not - suppose I shall ever again have the chance of photographing the Gilyak in - his native haunts. He belongs to a dying race, they told me, and there are - few children amongst them. - </p> - <p> - And though we lay long at De Castries Bay they would not let me take - pictures there at all. It was forbidden, so I was reduced to doing the - best I could through my cabin port. In Alexandrosvk the police officer had - aided and abetted my picture-making, but in Nikolayeusk it was a forbidden - pastime, for the town, for purposes of photography, was a fort, and when I - boarded the <i>Kanovina</i> on the river, the post steamer bound for - Blagoveschensk, I met with more difficulties. - </p> - <p> - There was on board a Mrs Marie Skibitsky and her husband, the headmaster - of the Nikolayeusk “Real” School, and she spoke very good English and was - a kind friend to me. Through her came a message from the captain to the - effect that though he did not mind my photographing himself, it was - forbidden in Russia, and he begged me not to do it when anyone was looking - on. That made it pretty hopeless, for the ship was crowded and there was - always not one person but probably a score of people taking a very great - interest. The captain was not brass-bound as he had been in the <i>John - Cockerill</i>, but he and all his officers were clad in khaki, with - military caps, and it was sometime before I realised them as the ship's - officers. The captain looked to me like a depressed corporal who was - having difficulties with his sergeant, and the ship, though they charged - us three roubles more for the trip to Blagoveschensk than the Amur Company - would have done, was dirty and ill-kept. It was in her I met the saloon - the windows of which would not open, and the water in my cabin had gone - wrong, and when I insisted that I could not be happy till I had some, it - was brought me in a teapot! They never struck the hours on this steamer as - they had done on the <i>John Cockerill</i>, and gone was the excellent - cook, and the food consisted largely of meat, of which I am bound to say - there was any quantity. - </p> - <p> - But in spite of all drawbacks the ship was crowded; there were many - officers and their wives on board, and there were many officers on board - with women who were not their 'wives. These last were so demonstrative - that I always took them for honeymoon couples till at last a Cossack - officer whom I met farther on explained: - </p> - <p> - “Not 'wives. Oh no! It is always so! It is just the steamer!” - </p> - <p> - Whether these little irregularities were to be set down to the discomforts - of the steamer or to the seductive air of the river, I do not know. - Perhaps I struck a particularly amorous company. I am bound to say no one - but me appeared to be embarrassed. It seemed to be all in the day's work. - </p> - <p> - It was pleasant going up the river again and having beside me one who - could explain things to me. Every day it grew warmer, for not only was the - short northern summer reaching its zenith, but we were now going south - again. And Mrs Skibitsky sat beside me and rubbed up her English and told - me how in two years' time she proposed to bring her daughters to England - to give them an English education, and I promised to look out for her and - show her the ropes and how she could best manage in London. In two years' - time! And we neither of us knew that we were on the threshold of the - greatest war in the world's history. - </p> - <p> - I took the breaking out of that war so calmly. - </p> - <p> - We arrived at Kharbarosvk. I parted from Mrs Skibitsky, who was going to - Vladivostok, and next day I looked up my friend the colonel's wife with - whom I had travelled on the <i>John Cockerill</i>. She received me with - open arms, but the household cat flew and spat and stated in no measured - terms what she thought of Buchanan. The lady caught the cat before I - realised what was happening and in a moment she had scored with her talons - great red lines that spouted blood on her mistress's arms. She looked at - them calmly, went into the kitchen, rubbed butter on her wounds and came - back smiling as if nothing in the world had happened. But it was not - nothing. I admired her extremely for a very brave woman. Presently her - husband came in and she just drew down her sleeves to cover her torn arms - and said not a word to him. He was talking earnestly and presently she - said to me: - </p> - <p> - “There is war!” - </p> - <p> - I thought she meant between Buehanan and the cat and I smiled feebly, - because I was very much ashamed of the trouble I and my dog had caused, - but she said again: - </p> - <p> - “There is war! Between Austria and Serbia!” - </p> - <p> - It did not seem to concern me. I don't know that I had ever realised - Serbia as a distinct nationality at all before, and she knew so little - English and I knew no Russian at all, so that we were not able to discuss - the matter much, though it was evident that the colonel was very much - excited. That, I thought, might be natural. He was a soldier. War was his - business, though here, I think, he was engaged in training boys. - </p> - <p> - After the midday meal—<i>déjeuner</i>, I think we called it—she - and I went for a walk, and presently down the wide streets of Kharbarosvk - came a little procession of four led by a wooden-legged man bearing a - Russian naval flag, the blue St Andrew's Cross on a white ground. I looked - at them. - </p> - <p> - They meant nothing to me in that great, empty street where the new little - trees were just beginning to take root and the new red-brick post office - dominated all minor buildings among many empty spaces. - </p> - <p> - “They want war! They ask for war!” said my friend. I was witnessing my - first demonstration against Germany! And I thought no more of it than I do - of the children playing in the streets of this Kentish village! - </p> - <p> - She saw me on to the steamer and bade me farewell, and then my troubles - began. Not a single person on that steamer spoke English. However, I had - always found the Russians so kind that the faet that we could not - understand one another when the going was straight did not seem to matter - very much. But I had not reckoned with the Russians at war. - </p> - <p> - At Kharbarosvk the river forms the Chinese-Russian boundary and a little - beyond it reaches its most southern point, about lat. 48°. But the China - that was on our left was not the China that I knew. This was Manchuria, - green and fresh as Siberia itself, and though there was little or no - agriculture beyond perhaps a patch of vegetables here and there, on both - sides of the broad river was a lovely land of hills and lush grass and - trees. Here were firs and pines and cedars, whose sombreness contrasted - with the limes and elms, the poplars and dainty birches with whieh they - were interspersed. The Russian towns were small, the merest villages, with - here and there a church with the painted ball-like domes they affect, and - though the houses were of unpainted logs, always the windows and doors - were painted white. - </p> - <p> - And at every little town were great piles of wood waiting for the steamer, - and whenever we stopped men hastily set to work bringing in loads of wood - to replace that which we had burnt. And we burnt lavishly. Even the - magnificent forests of Siberia will not stand this drain on them long. - </p> - <p> - The other day when the National Service papers came round one was sent to - a dear old “Sister” who for nearly all her life has been working for the - Church in an outlying district of London. She is past work now, but she - can still go and talk to the old and sick and perhaps give advice about - the babies, but that is about the extent of her powers. She looked at the - paper and as in duty bound filled it in, giving her age as seventy. What - was her surprise then to receive promptly from the Department a suggestion - that she should volunteer for service on the land, and offering her, by - way of inducement, good wages, a becoming hat and high boots! That branch - of the Department has evidently become rather mechanical. Now the Russians - all the way from Saghalien to Petrograd treated me with sueh unfailing - kindness that I was in danger of writing of them in the stereotyped - fashion in which the National Service Department sent out its papers. - Luckily they themselves saved me from such an error. There were three - memorable, never-to-be-forgotten days when the Russians did not treat me - with kindness. - </p> - <p> - The warmest and pleasantest days of my trip on the Amur we went through - lovely scenery: the river was very wide, the blue sky was reflected in its - blue waters and the green, tree-clad hills on either side opened out and - showed beyond mountains in the distance, purple and blue and alluring. It - was the height of summer-time, summer at its best, a green, moist summer. - We hugged the Russian bank, and the Manchurian bank seemed very far away, - only it was possible to see that wherever the Russians had planted a - little town on the other side was a Chinese town much bigger. The Russian - were very little towns, and all the inhabitants, it seemed, turned out to - meet us, who were their only link with the outside world. - </p> - <p> - The minute the steamer came close enough ropes were flung ashore to moor - it, and a gangway was run out very often—and it was an anxious - moment for me with Buchanan standing on the end, for he was always the - first to put dainty little paws on the gangway, and there he stood while - it swayed this way and that before it could make up its mind where to - finally settle down. Then there was a rush, and a stream of people going - ashore for exercise passed a stream of people coming on board to sell - goods. Always these took the form of eatables. Butter, bread, meat, milk, - berries they had for sale, and the third and fourth class passengers - bought eagerly. - </p> - <p> - I followed Buchanan ashore, but I seldom bought anything unless the - berries tempted me. There were strawberries, raspberries and a blue berry - which sometimes was very sweet and pleasant. - </p> - <p> - At first the people had been very kind and taken a great deal of interest - in the stranger and her pretty little dog, but after we left Kharbarosvk - and I had no one to appeal to a marked change came over things. If I - wanted to take a photograph, merely a photograph of the steamer lying - against the bank, my camera was rudely snatched away and I was given to - understand in a manner that did not require me to know Russian that if I - did that again it would be worse for me. Poor little Buchanan was kicked - and chunks of wood were flung at him. As I passed along the lower decks to - and from the steamer I was rudely hustled, and on shore not only did the - people crowd around me in a hostile manner, but to my disgust they spat - upon me. - </p> - <p> - I could not understand the change, for even in the first-class saloon the - people looked at me askance. And I had ten days of the river before I - reached Stretensk, where I was to join the train. It is terrible to be - alone among hostile people, and I kept Buchanan close beside me for - company and because I did not know what might happen to him. If this had - been China I should not have been surprised, but Russia, that had always - been so friendly. I was mightily troubled. - </p> - <p> - And then came the explanation, the very simple explanation. - </p> - <p> - Just as the river narrowed between the hills and looked more like a river, - and turned north, there came on board at a tiny wayside town a tall young - Cossack officer, a <i>soinik</i> of Cossacks, he called himself. He wore a - khaki jacket and cap, and dark blue breeches and riding-boots. He had a - great scar across his forehead, caused by a Chinese sword, and he had - pleasant blue eyes and a row of nice white teeth. He was tall and goodly - to look upon, and as I sat at afternoon tea at a little table on deck he - came swaggering along the deck and stood before me with one hand on a - deck-chair. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, is it permitted?” he asked in French. - </p> - <p> - Of course Madame permitted and ealled for another glass and offered him - some of her tea and cake. Possibly he had plenty of his own, but no - matter, it was good to entertain someone in friendly fashion again after - being an outcast for three days. And it took a little while to find out - what was wrong, he was so very polite. - </p> - <p> - “Madame understands we are at war?” - </p> - <p> - Madame opened her eyes in astonishment. What could a war in the Balkan - Provinces have to do with her treatment on the Amur river thousands of - miles in the East? - </p> - <p> - However, she said she did. - </p> - <p> - “And Madame knows———” He paused, and then very kindly - abandoned his people. “Madame sees the people are bad?” - </p> - <p> - Madame quite agreed. They were bad. I had quite an appetite for my tea now - that this nice young man was sympathising with me on the abominable - behaviour of his countrymen. - </p> - <p> - He spread out his hands as if deprecating the opinion of sueh foolish - people. “They think—on the ship—and on the shore—that - Madame is a GERMAN!” - </p> - <p> - So it was out, and it took me a moment to realise it, so little had I - realised the war. - </p> - <p> - “A German!” I did not put it in capital letters as he had done. I had not - yet learned to hate the Germans. - </p> - <p> - “A—spy!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, good gracious!” And then I flew for my passports. - </p> - <p> - In vain that young man protested it was not necessary. He had felt sure - from the moment he set eyes upon her that Madame was no German. He had - told the captain—so the depressed corporal had been taking an - interest in me—she might be French, or even from the north of Spain, - but certainly not German. But I insisted on his looking at my passports - and being in a position to swear that I was British, and from that moment - we were friends and he constituted himself my champion. - </p> - <p> - “The people are bad,” he told me. “Madame, they are angry and they are - bad. They may harm you. Here I go ashore with you; at Blagoveschensk you - get a protection order from the Governor written in Russian so that - somebody may read.” - </p> - <p> - Then he told me about the war. Russia and France were fighting Germany. He - had come from Tsitsihar, on the Mongolian border, across Manchuria, and - before that he had come from Kodbo, right in the heart of the great - Western Mongolian mountains, and he was going as fast as he could to - Chita, and thence he supposed to the front. - </p> - <p> - “C'est gai a la guerre, Madame, c'est gai!” I hope so. I earnestly hope he - found it so, for he was a good fellow and awfully good to me. - </p> - <p> - He was a little disquieting too, for now it dawned upon me it would be - impossible to go back through Germany with Germany at war with Russia, and - my friend was equally sure it would be almost impossible to go by way of - St Petersburg, as we called Petrograd then. Anyhow we were still in the - Amur Province, in Eastern Siberia, so I did not worry much. Now that the - people were friendly once more it all seemed so far away, and whenever we - went ashore my Cossack friend explained matters. - </p> - <p> - But he was a little troubled. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, why does not England come in?” he asked again and again, and I, - who had seen no papers since I left Tientsin, and only <i>The North China - Herald</i> then, could not imagine what England had to do with it. The - idea of a world war was out of the question. - </p> - <p> - It was more interesting now going up the beautiful river, narrowed till it - really did look like a river. I could see both banks quite plainly. My - friend had been stationed here a year or two before, and he told me that - there were many tigers in the woods, and wild boar and bear, but not very - many wolves. And the tigers were beautiful and fierce and dangerous, - northern tigers that could stand the rigours of the winter, and they did - not wait to be attacked, they attacked you. There was a German professor - in Blagoveschensk a year or two ago who had gone out butterfly-hunting, - which one would think was a harmless and safe enough pastime to satisfy - even a conscientious objector, and a tiger had got on his tracks and eaten - him incontinently. They found only his butterfly net and the buttons of - his coat when they went in search of him. - </p> - <p> - The plague had broken out during this officer's stay on the river, and the - authorities had drawn a cordon of Cossacks round to keep the terrified, - plague-stricken people from fleeing and spreading the disease yet farther, - and he pointed out to me the house in which he and two comrades had lived. - It was merely a roof pitched at a steep angle, and the low walls were - embedded in earth; only on the side facing the river was a little window—it - did not open—and a door. A comfortless-looking place it was. - </p> - <p> - “But why the earth piled up against the sides?” I asked. It was sprouting - grass now and yellow buttercups and looked gay and pretty, the only - attractive thing about the place. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, for the cold,” said he, “for the cold.” And remembering what they - had told me about the cold of Kharbin, what I myself had experienced at - Manchuria on the way out in much the same latitude as this, I could quite - well believe that even sunk in the earth this poor little hut was not a - very good protection against the cold. - </p> - <p> - The river widened again, winding its way across a plateau. On the Chinese - side were great oak forests where my Cossack told me were many pig that - gave them good hunting and many bees, but this was not China as I knew it. - It was inhabited, he said, by nomad tribes who were great horsemen, and we - saw occasional villages and—a rare sight—cattle, red and - white, standing knee-deep in the clear water. Particularly was I struck by - the cattle, for in all those thousands of miles of travel I could count on - my fingers—the fingers of one hand would be too many—the - numbers of times I saw herds of cattle. Once was in Saghalien, and twice, - I think, here, curiously enough, for the pure Chinese does not use milk or - butter on the Chinese side of the river. Of course there must have been - cows somewhere, for there was plenty of milk, cream and butter for sale, - but they were not in evidence from the river. - </p> - <p> - On the Russian side the landing-places did not change much, only now among - the women hawkers were Chinese in belted blouses, green, yellow, blue, - pink, red; they rioted in colour as they never did in their own land, and - they all wore sea-boots. - </p> - <p> - And still over twelve hundred miles from the sea it was a great river. And - then at last I saw what I had been looking for ever since I embarked—fields - of corn, corn ripe for the harvest. This was all this lovely land needed, - a field of corn; but again it was not on the Russian side, but on the - Chinese. - </p> - <p> - The spires and domes of Blagoveschensk, the capital of the Amur Province, - came into view. All along the Russian bank of the river lay this city of - Eastern Siberia. Its buildings stood out against the clear sky behind it, - and approaching it was like coming up to a great port. The river, I should - think, was at least a mile wide. I am not very good at judging distances, - but it gave me the impression of a very wide river set here in the midst - of a plain—that is, of course, a plateau, for we had come through - the hills. - </p> - <p> - And here my Cossack friend came to bid me good-bye and to impress upon me - once again to go straight to the Governor for that protection order. He - was sorry he could not see me through, but his orders were to go to Chita - as fast as he could, and someone would speak English at Blagoveschensk, - for it was a great city, and then he asked for the last time: - </p> - <p> - “But, Madame, why does not England come in?” - </p> - <p> - And then the question that had troubled me so was answered, for as we - touched the shore men came on board wild with excitement, shouting, - yelling, telling the war news, that very day, that very moment, it seemed, - England had come in! - </p> - <p> - And I appeared to be the only representative of Britain in that corner of - the world! Never was there such a popular person. The sailor-men who - worked the ship, the poorer third and fourth class passengers all came - crowding to look at the Englishwoman. I had only got to say “Anglisky” to - have everyone bowing down before me and kissing my hand, and my Cossack - friend as he bade me good-bye seemed to think it hardly necessary to go to - the Governor except that a member of a great Allied nation ought to be - properly received. - </p> - <p> - But I had been bitten once, and I determined to make things as safe as I - could for the future. So I got a droshky—a sort of tumble-down - victoria, held together with pieces of string, and driven by a man who - might have been Russian or might have been Chinese—and Buchanan and - I went through the dusty, sunny streets of the capital of the Amur - Province to the viceregal residence. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII—THE UPPER REACHES OF THE AMUR - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>lagoveschensk is - built on much the same lines as all the other Siberian towns that I have - seen, a wooden town mostly of one-storeyed houses straggling over the - plain in wide streets that cut one another at right angles. Again it was - not at all unlike an Australian town, a frontier town to all intents and - purposes. The side-roads were deep in dust, and the principal shop, a - great store, a sort of mild imitation of Harrod's, where you could buy - everything from a needle to an anchor—I bought a dog-collar with a - bell for Buchanan—was run by Germans. It was a specimen of Germany's - success in peaceful penetration. It seemed as if she were throwing away - the meat for the shadow, for they were interning all those assistants—400 - of them. Now probably they form the nucleus of the Bolshevist force - helping Germany. - </p> - <p> - The Governor's house was on the outskirts of the town, and it was thronged - with people, men mostly, and Buchanan and I were passed from one room to - another, evidently by people who had not the faintest notion of what we - wanted. Everybody said “Bonjour,” and the Governor and everybody else - kissed my hand. I said I was “Anglisky,” and it seemed as if everybody in - consequence came to look at me. But it didn't advance matters at all. - </p> - <p> - I began to be hungry and tired, and various people tried questions upon - me, but nothing definite happened. At last, after about two hours, when I - was seriously thinking of giving up in despair, a tall, good-looking - officer in khaki came in. He put his heels together and kissed my hand as - courteously as the rest had done, and then informed me in excellent - English that he was the Boundary Commissioner and they had sent for him - because there was an Englishwoman arrived, and, while very desirous of - being civil to the representative of their new Ally, nobody could make out - what on earth she was doing here and what she wanted! - </p> - <p> - I told my story and it was easy enough then. He admired Buchanan properly, - drove us both to his house, introduced me to his wife and made me out a - most gorgeous protection order written in Russian. I have it still, but I - never had occasion to use it. - </p> - <p> - Opposite Blagoveschensk is a Chinese town which is called Sakalin, though - the maps never give it that name, and in Vladivostok and Peking they call - it various other names. But its right name is Sakalin, I know, for I - stayed there for the best part of a week. - </p> - <p> - At Sakalin the head of the Chinese Customs is a Dane, Paul Barentzen, and - to him and his wife am I greatly beholden. I had been given letters to - them, and I asked my friend the kindly Russian Boundary Commissioner if he - knew them. He did. He explained to me I must have a permit to cross the - river and he would give me one for a week. A week seemed overlong, but he - explained the Russian Government did not allow free traffic across the - river and it was just as well to have a permit that would cover the whole - of my stay. Even now, though I did stay my week, I have not fathomed the - reason of these elaborate precautions, because it must be impossible to - guard every little landing-place on the long, long, lonely river—there - must be hundreds of places where it is easy enough to cross—only I - suppose every stranger is liable sooner or later to be called upon to give - an account of himself. - </p> - <p> - The ferries that crossed the Amur to the Chinese side were great boats - built to carry a large number of passengers, but the arrangements for - getting across the river did justice to both Chinese and Russian - mismanagement. Unlike the efficient Japanese, both these nations, it seems - to me, arrive at the end in view with the minimum amount of trouble to - those in authority—that is to say, the maximum of trouble to - everybody concerned. The ferry-boats owing to local politics had a - monopoly, and therefore went at their own sweet will just exactly when - they pleased. There was a large and busy traffic, but the boats never went - oftener than once an hour, and the approaches were just as primitive as - they possibly could be. There was one little shed with a seat running - round where if you were fortunate you could sit down with the Chinese - hawkers and wait for the arrival of the boat. And when it did come the - passengers, after a long, long wait, came climbing up the rough path up - the bank looking as if they had been searched to the skin. They let me - through on the Chinese side and I found without any difficulty my way to - Mr Paul Barentzen's house, a two-storeyed, comfortable house, and received - a warm invitation from him and his wife to stay with them. - </p> - <p> - It was a chance not to be missed. I was getting very weary, I was tired in - every bone, so a chance like this to stay with kindly people who spoke my - own language, on the very outskirts of the Chinese Empire, was not to be - lightly missed, and I accepted with gratitude, a gratitude I feel - strongly. Mr Barentzen was a Dane, but he spoke as good English as I do, - and if possible was more British. His wife was English. And that night he - celebrated the coming into the war of Britain. He asked me and the Russian - Boundary Commissioner and his wife and another Russian gentleman all to - dinner in the gardens at Blagoveschensk. - </p> - <p> - The place was a blaze of light, there were flags and lamps and bands - everywhere, the whole city was <i>en fête</i> to do honour to the new - addition to the Grande Entente. When we were tired of walking about the - gardens we went inside to the principal restaurant that was packed with - people dining, while on a stage various singers discoursed sweet music and - waved the flags of the Allies. But the British flag had not got as far as - the capital of the Amur Province. Indeed much farther west than that I - found it represented by a red flag with black crosses drawn on it, very - much at the taste of the artist, and “Anglisky” written boldly across it - to make up for any deficiency. - </p> - <p> - Mr Barentzen had foreseen this difficulty and had provided us all with - nice little silk specimens of the Union Jack to wear pinned on our - breasts. About ten o'clock we sat down to a most excellent dinner, with - sturgeon and sour cream and caviare and all the good tilings that Eastern - Siberia produces. A packed room also dined, while the people on the stage - sang patriotic songs, and we were all given silk programmes as souvenirs. - They sang the Belgian, the French and the Russian national anthems, and at - last we asked for the British. - </p> - <p> - Very courteously the conductor sent back word to say he was very sorry but - the British national anthem was also a German hymn and if he dared play it - the people would tear him to pieces. Remembering my tribulations a little - way down the river, I quite believed him, so I suggested as an alternative - <i>Rule, Britannia</i>, but alas! he had never heard of it. It was a - deadlock, and we looked at one another. - </p> - <p> - Then the tall Russian who was the other guest pushed his chair from the - table, stood up, and saluting, whistled <i>Rule, Britannia!</i> How the - people applauded! And so Britain entered the war in Far Eastern Siberia. - </p> - <p> - We certainly did not go home till morning that day. For that matter, I - don't think you are supposed to cross the river at night, not ordinary - folk, Customs officials may have special privileges. At any rate I came - back to my bunk on the steamer and an anxious little dog just as the day - was breaking, and next day I crossed to Sakalin and stayed with the - Barentzens. - </p> - <p> - The Russians then took so much trouble to keep the Chinese on their own - side of the river that the Russian officers and civil servants, much to - the chagrin of their wives, were nowhere in the province allowed to have - Chinese servants. The fee for a passport had been raised to, I think, - twelve roubles, so it was no longer worth a Chinaman's while to get one to - hawk a basket of vegetables, and the mines on the Zeya, a tributary of the - Amur on the Russian side, had fallen off in their yield because cheap - labour was no longer possible. The people who did get passports were the - Chinese prostitutes, though a Chinese woman has not a separate identity in - China and is not allowed a passport of her own. However, there are ways of - getting over that. A man applied for a passport and it was granted him. He - handed it over to the woman for a consideration, and on the other side any - Chinese document was, as a rule, all one to the Russian official. - Remembering my own experience and how I had difficulty in deciding between - my passport and my agreement with my muleteers, I could quite believe this - story. - </p> - <p> - Blagoveschensk is a regular frontier town and, according to Mr Barentzen, - is unsafe. On the first occasion that I crossed the river with him I - produced a hundred-rouble note. Almost before I had laid it down it was - snatched up by the Chinese Commissioner of Customs. - </p> - <p> - “Are you mad?” said he, and he crumpled up the note in his hand and held - out for my acceptance a rouble. I tried to explain that not having change, - and finding it a little awkward, I thought that this would be a good - opportunity to get it, as I felt sure the man at receipt of custom must - have plenty. - </p> - <p> - “I dare say,” said my host sarcastically. “I don't want to take away - anybody's character, but I'll venture to say there are at least ten men - within hail”—there was a crowd round—“who would joyfully cut - your throat for ten roubles.” - </p> - <p> - He enlarged upon that theme later. We used to sit out on the balcony of - his house looking out, not over the river, but over the town of Sakalin, - and there used to come in the men from the B.A.T. Factory, a Russian in - top-boots who spoke excellent English and a young American named Hyde. - They told me tales, well, something like the stories I used to listen to - in my childhood's days when we talked about “the breaking out of the gold” - in Australia, tales of men who had washed much gold and then were lured - away and murdered for their riches. Certainly they did not consider - Blagoveschensk or Sakalin towns in which a woman could safely wander. In - fact all the Siberian towns that they knew came under the ban. - </p> - <p> - But of course mostly we talked about the war and how maddening it was only - to get scraps of news through the telegraph. The young American was keen, - I remember. I wonder if he really had patience to wait till his country - came in. He talked then in the first week of the war of making his way - back to Canada and seeing if he could enlist there, for even then we felt - sure that the Outer Dominions would want to help the Motherland. And the - Germans were round Liège—would they take it? Association is a - curious thing. Whenever I hear of Liège I cannot help thinking, not of the - Belgian city, but of a comfortable seat on a balcony with the shadows - falling and the lights coming out one by one on the bath-houses that are - dotted about a little town on the very outskirts of the Chinese Empire—the - lights of the town. There are the sounds and the smells of the Chinese - town mingling with the voices of the talkers and the fragrance of the - coffee, and the air is close with the warmth of August. There comes back - to me the remembrance of the keen young American who wanted to fight - Germany and the young Russian in top-boots who was very much afraid he - would only be used to guard German prisoners. - </p> - <p> - Sakalin was cosmopolitan, but it had a leaning toward Russia, hence the - bath-houses, an idea foreign to Chinese civilisation; and when I got a - piece of grit in my eye which refused to come out it was to a Japanese - doctor I went, accompanied by my host's Chinese servant, who, having had - the trouble stated by me in English, explained it to another man in - Chinese, who in his turn told the doctor what was the matter in Russian. - Luckily that man of medicine was very deft and I expect he could have - managed very well without any explanation at all. I have the greatest - respect for the Japanese leech I visited in Sakalin. - </p> - <p> - On the Sunday we had a big picnic. The Russian Boundary Commissioner came - across with his wife and little girls, Mrs Barentzen took her little girl - and the Chinese Tao Tai lent us the light of his countenance. He was the - feature of the entertainment, for he was a very big man, both literally - and socially, and could not move without a large following, so that an - escort of mounted police took charge of us. The proper portly Chinaman of - whom this retinue was in honour spoke no English, but smiled at me - benevolently, and wore a petticoat and a Russian military cap! The picnic - was by a little brook about seven miles from the town and I shall always - remember it because of the lush grass, waist-high, and the lovely flowers. - I had looked at the Siberian flowers from the steamer when they were - ungetatable, I had gathered them with joy in Saghalien, and now here they - were again just to my hand. In June they told me there were abundant - lilies of the valley, and I regretted I had not been there in June. Truly - I feel it would be a delight to see lilies of the valley growing wild, but - as it was, the flowers were beautiful enough, and there were heaps of - them. There were very fine Canterbury bells, a glorious violet flower and - magnificent white poppies. Never have I gathered more lovely flowers, - never before have I seen them growing wild in such amazing abundance. No - one is more truly artistic than the average Chinese, and I think the Tao - Tai must have enjoyed himself, though it is against the canons of good - taste in China to look about you. - </p> - <p> - Presently I was asking the chief magistrate's good offices for Buchanan, - for he, my treasured Buchanan, was lost. In the Barentzens' house there - was, of course, as in all well-regulated Chinese houses run by foreigners, - a bathroom attached to every bedroom, and when I wanted a bath the - servants filled with warm water the half of a large barrel, which made a - very excellent bath-tub. And having bathed myself, I bathed Buchanan, - whose white coat got very dirty in the dusty Chinese streets. He ran away - downstairs and I lingered for a moment to put on my dress, and when I came - down he was gone. High and low I hunted; I went up and down the street - calling his name, and I knew he would have answered, he always did, had he - been within hearing. All the Customs men were turned out and I went to the - Chinese Tao Tai, who promptly put on all the police. But Buchanan was gone - for a night and I was in despair. Mr Barentzen's head boy shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “Master saying,” said he, “mus' get back that dog.” So I realised I was - making a fuss, but for the moment I did not care. The Tao Tai gave it as - his opinion that he had not been stolen. There were many little dogs like - him in the town, said he, no one would steal one, which only shows a - Chinese magistrate may not be infallible, for I was sure Buchanan would - not stay away from me of his own free will. - </p> - <p> - And then at last the servants turned up triumphant, Buchanan, in the arms - of the head boy, wild with delight at seeing his mistress again. The - police had searched everywhere, but the servants, with their master's - injunction in mind and my reward to be earned, had made further inquiries - and found that a little boy had been seen taking the dog into a certain - house occupied by an official, the man who was responsible for the - cleaning of the streets. This was the first intimation I ever had that the - Chinese did clean their streets: I had thought that they left that job to - the “wonks” and the scavenger crows. The police made inquiries. No, there - was no little dog there. But the servants—wise Chinese servants—made - friends with the people round, and they said: “Watch. There is a dog.” So - a junior servant was put to watch, and when the gate of the compound was - opened he stole in, and there was poor little James Buchanan tied up to a - post. That servant seized the dog and fled home in triumph. - </p> - <p> - The T'ai T'ai (the official's wife), said the people round, had wanted the - pretty little dog. - </p> - <p> - I was so delighted to get my little friend back that I should have been - content to leave things there. Not so Mr Barentzen. He sent for that - official, and there in his drawing-room he and I interviewed a portly - Chinese gentleman in grey petticoats, a long pigtail, a little black silk - cap and the tips of the silver shields that encased the long nails of his - little fingers just showing beyond his voluminous sleeves. - </p> - <p> - “An officious servant,” he said. He was extremely sorry the Commissioner - of Customs and his friend had been put to so much inconvenience. The - servant had already been dismissed. And so we bowed him out, face was - saved, and all parties were satisfied. It was very Chinese. And yet we - knew, and we knew that he must have known we knew, that it was really his - wife who received the little dog that everyone concerned must have - realised was valuable and must have been stolen. - </p> - <p> - Here in Sakai in I heard about the doings of the only wolves that came - into my wanderings. In the little river harbour were many small steamers - flying the Russian flag and loading great barrels with the ends painted - bright red. These barrels, explained the Customs Commissioner, contained - spirits which the Russians were desirous of smuggling into Russian - territory. The Chinese had not the least objection to their leaving China - after they had paid export duty. They were taken up and down the river and - finally landed at some small port whence they were smuggled across. The - trade was a very big one. The men engaged in it were known as the wolves - of the Amur and were usually Caucasians and Jews. In 1913, the last year - of which I have statistics, no less than twenty-five thousand pounds - export was paid on these spirits, and in the years before it used to be - greater. I wonder whether with the relaxing of discipline consequent on - the war and the revolution the receipts for the export have not gone up. - </p> - <p> - The wide river was beautiful here, and Blagovesehensk, lying across the - water, with its spires and domes, all the outlines softened, standing - against the evening sky, might have been some town of pictured Italy. I am - glad I have seen it. I dare not expiate on Mr Barentzen's kindness. My - drastic critic, drastic and so invaluable, says that I have already - overloaded this book with tales of people's kindness, so I can only say I - stayed there a week and then took passage on the smaller steamer which was - bound up the Amur and the Shilka to Stretensk and the railway. - </p> - <p> - I had, however, one regret. I had inadvertently taken my plates and films - on which I had all my pictures of the Amur and Saghalien across the - Sakalin and I could not take them back again. The Russian rule was very - strict. No photographs were allowed. Everything crossing the river must be - examined. Now to examine my undeveloped films and plates would be to ruin - them. I interviewed a Japanese photographer on the Sakalin side, but he - appeared to be a very tyro in the art of developing, and finally very - reluctantly I decided to leave them for Mr Barentzen to send home when he - got the chance. He did not get that chance till the middle of 1916, and I - regret to state that when we came to develop them every single one of them - was ruined. - </p> - <p> - The steamer that I embarked on now was considerably smaller, for the river - was narrowing. The deck that ran round the cabins was only thirty inches - wide and crowded with children; worse, when James Buchanan and I went for - our daily promenades we found the way disputed by women, mothers, or - nursemaids, I know not whieh, propelling the children who could not walk - in wheeled chairs, and they thought Buchanan had been brought there for - their special benefit, a view which the gentleman himself did not share. - However, he was my only means of communication with them, for they had no - English or French. - </p> - <p> - But I was lucky, for one of the mates, brass-bound and in spotless white, - like so many Russians had served in British ships and spoke English very - well with a slight Scots accent. With him I used to hold daily - conversations and always we discussed the war. But he shook his head over - it. It was not possible to get much news at the little wayside places at - which we stopped. There were no papers—the Russian peasant under the - beneficent rule of the Tsar was not encouraged to learn to read—and - for his part he, the mate, put no faith in the telegrams. All would be - well, of course, but we must wait till we came to some large and - influential place for news upon which we could rely. - </p> - <p> - But that large and influential place was long in coming, in fact I may say - it never materialised while I was on the river. There are at least eleven - towns marked on the way between Blagoveschensk and Stretensk, but even the - town at the junction where the Aigun and the Shilka merge into the Amur is - but a tiny frontier village, and the rest as I know the river banks are - only a few log huts inhabited by peasants who apparently keep guard over - and supply the stacks of wood needed by the steamers. - </p> - <p> - It was a lovely river now going north, north and then west, or rather we - went north, the river flowed the other way, it was narrower and wound - between wooded hills and it was very lonely. There were occasional, very - occasional, little settlements, on the Chinese side I do not remember even - a hut, though it was a lovely green land and the river, clear as crystal, - reflected on its breast the trees and rocks among which we made our way. - </p> - <p> - Once on the Russian side we landed from a boat a woman with two little - children and innumerable bundles. They had been down, I suppose, to visit - the centre of civilisation at Blagoveschensk and now were coming home. In - the dusk of the evening we left her there looking down thoughtfully at her - encumbrances, not a living creature in sight, not a sign of man's - handiwork anywhere. I hoped there were no tigers about, but she has always - lived in my memory as an unfinished story. I suppose we all of us have - those unfinished stories in our lives, not stories left unfinished because - they are so long drawn out we could not possibly wait for developments, - but stories that must finish suddenly, only we are withdrawn. Once I - looked from a railway carriage window in the Midlands and I saw a bull - chasing a woman; she was running, screaming for all she was worth, for a - fence, but whether she reached it or not I have no means of knowing. - Another time I saw also from a railway carriage window two men, mother - naked, chasing each other across the greensward and left them there - because the train went on. Of course I have often enough seen men without - clothes in the tropics, but in the heart of England they are out of the - picture and want explaining. That explanation I shall never get. Nor is it - likely I shall ever know whether that unknown woman and her little - children ever reached their unknown home. - </p> - <p> - We were luxuriously fed upon that little steamer. The Russian tea with - lemon and the bread and butter were delicious, and we had plenty of cream, - though gone was the red caviare that farther east had been so common. But - I was tired and at last feeling lonely. I began to count the days till I - should reach home. - </p> - <p> - On the Amur the weather had been gorgeous, but when we entered the Shilka - we were north of 53° again and well into the mountains, and the next - morning I awoke to a grey day. It rained and it rained, not tropical rain, - but soft, penetrating rain; the fir-clad hills on either side were veiled - in a silvery mist. The river wound so that as we looked ahead we seemed to - be sailing straight into the hills. The way looked blocked with hills, - sometimes all mist-covered, sometimes with the green showing alluringly - through the mist, and occasionally, when the mist lifted and the sun came - out, in all the gullies would linger little grey cloudlets, as if caught - before they could get away and waiting there screened by the hills till - the mist should fall again. Occasionally there were lonely houses, still - more occasionally little settlements of log huts with painted windows - hermetically sealed, and once or twice a field of corn ripe for the - harvest but drowned by the persistent rain. But the air was soft and - delicious, divine; only in the cabins on board the crowded steamer was it - pestilential. The mate told me how, six weeks before, on his last trip up, - an Englishman had come selling reapers and binders, and he thought that - now I had made my appearance the English were rather crowding the Amur. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes when we stopped the passengers went ashore and went berrying, - returning with great branches laden with fruit, and I and Buchanan too - walked a little way, keeping the steamer 'well in sight, and rejoicing in - the flowers and the green and the rich, fresh smell of moist earth. I do - not know that ever in my life do I remember enjoying rain so much. Of - course in my youth in Australia I had always welcomed the life-giving - rain, but thirteen years in England, where I yearned for the sunshine, had - somehow dimmed those memories, and now once again the rain on the river - brought me joy. The mist was a thing of beauty, and when a ray of sunshine - found its way into a green, mist-veiled valley, illuminating its lovely - loneliness, then indeed I knew that the earth was the Lord's and the - fullness thereof. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes we passed rafts upon the river. They were logs bound together in - great parallelograms and worked with twelve long sweeps fixed at each end. - Twelve men at least went to each raft, and there were small houses built - of grass and canvas and wood. They were taking the wood down to - Nikolayeusk to be shipped to Shanghai and other parts of the world for - furniture, for these great forests of birch and elm and fir and oak must - be a mine of wealth to their owners. I do not know whether the wood is cut - on any system, and whether the presence of these great rafts had anything - to do with the many dead trees I saw in the forests, their white stems - standing up ghostlike against the green hill-side. - </p> - <p> - I have no record of these lovely places. My camera was locked away now in - my suit-case, for it was war, and Russia, rightly, would allow no - photographs. - </p> - <p> - Seven days after we left Blagoveschensk we reached Stretensk and I came in - contact for the first time with the World's War. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV—MOBILISING IN EASTERN SIBERIA - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t Stretensk I - awakened to the fact that I was actually in Siberia, nay, that I had - travelled over about two thousand miles of Siberia, that dark and gloomy - land across which—I believed in my youth—tramped long lines of - prisoners in chains, sometimes amidst the snow and ice of a bitter winter, - sometimes with the fierce sun beating down upon them, but always hopeless, - always hungry, weary, heartbroken, a sacrifice to the desire for political - liberty that was implanted in the hearts of an enslaved people. - </p> - <p> - It is an extraordinary thing that, though for many years I had believed - Saghalien was a terrible island, a sort of inferno for political - prisoners, something like Van Diemen's Land used to be in the old convict - days one hundred and ten years ago, only that in the Asiatic island the - conditions were still more cruel and it was hopeless to think of escaping, - while I was actually in that beautiful island I was so taken up with its - charm, it was so extremely unlike the place of which I had a picture in my - mind's eye, that I hardly connected the two. All up the Amur river was a - new land, a land crying out for pioneers, pastoralists and farmers, so - that the thought that was uppermost in my mind was of the contrast between - it and the old land of China, where I had spent so long a time; but at - Stretensk I suddenly remembered this was Siberia, the very heart of - Siberia, where men had suffered unutterable things, might still be so - suffering for all I knew, and I stepped off the steamer and prepared to - explore, with a feeling that at any moment I might come across the heavy - logs that made up the walls of a prison, might see the armed sentries, - clad to the eyes in furs, who tramped amidst the snow. But this was August - and it was fiercely hot, so the snow and the sentries clad in furs were - ruled out, and presently as Buchanan and I walked about the town even the - lonely prison built of logs had to go too. There may have been a prison, - probably there was, but it did not dominate the picture. Not here should I - find the Siberia I had been familiar with from my youth up. - </p> - <p> - Stretensk is like all other Siberian towns that I have seen. The houses - are mostly of one storey and of wood, of logs; the streets are wide and - straight, cutting each other at right angles, and the whole is flung out - upon the plain; it is really, I think, rather high among the mountains, - but you do not get the sensation of hills as you do from the steamer. - </p> - <p> - The rain had cleared away and it was very hot, though we had started out - very early because I was determined to go west if possible that very - afternoon; We went gingerly because the dangers of Siberian towns for one - who looked fairly prosperous had been impressed upon me at Blagoveschensk, - and I hesitated about going far from the steamer, where the mate could - speak English. Still we went. I was not going to miss the Siberia of my - dreams if I could help it. - </p> - <p> - I saw something more wonderful than the Siberia of my dreams. - </p> - <p> - In consequence of the ceaseless rain the roads between the log-houses with - their painted windows were knee-deep in mud, a quagmire that looked - impassable. In the air was the sound of martial music, and up and down in - what would have been reckless fashion but for the restraining glue-like - mud galloped officers and their orderlies. It was the war, the first I had - seen of it. The war was taking the place of the political exiles, and - instead of seeing Siberia as a background for the exiles as I had dreamed - of it for so many years, I saw it busy with preparations for war. The - roads were like sloughs out of which it would have been impossible to get - had I ever ventured in. Naturally I did not venture, but took all sorts of - long rounds to get to the places I wanted to reach. It is not a bad way of - seeing a town. - </p> - <p> - The heavily built houses, built to defy the Siberian winter, might have - come out of Nikolayeusk or Kharbarosvk, and though the sun poured down out - of a cloudless sky, and I was gasping in a thin Shantung silk, they were - hermetically sealed, and the cotton wool between the double windows was - decorated with the usual gay ribbons. I dare say they were cool enough - inside, but they must have been intolerably stuffy. The sidewalks too had - dried quickly in the fierce sunshine. They were the usual Siberian - sidewalks, with long lines of planks like flooring. Had they ever been - trodden, I wonder, by the forced emigrant looking with hopeless longing - back to the West. Finally we wandered into the gardens, where I doubt not, - judging by the little tables and many seats, there was the usual gay - throng at night, but now early in the morning everything looked - dishevelled, and I could not find anyone to supply me with the cool drink - of which I stood so badly in need, and at last we made our way back to the - steamer, where the mate, having got over the struggle of arrival—for - this was the farthest the steamer went—kindly found time enough to - give himself to my affairs. I wanted a droshky to take me to the train, - and as nowhere about had I seen any signs of a railway station I wanted to - know where it was. - </p> - <p> - The mate laughed and pointed far away down the river on the other side. I - really ought to have known my Siberia better by now. Railways are not - constructed for the convenience of the townsfolk. There was nothing else - for it. I had to get there somehow, and as the train left somewhere - between five and six, about noon, with the mate's assistance, I engaged a - droshky. The carriages that are doing a last stage in this country are not - quite so elderly here as they are in Saghalien, but that is not saying - much for them. The one the mate engaged for me had a sturdy little - ungroomed horse in the shafts and another running in a trace alongside. On - the seat was packed all my baggage, two small suit-cases and a large - canvas sack into which I dumped rugs, cushions and all odds and ends, - including my precious kettles, and the rough little unkempt horses towed - us down through the sea of mud to the ferry, and then I saw the scene had - indeed shifted. It was not long lines of exiles bearing chains I met, that - was all in the past, at least for an outsider like me, but here in the - heart of Asia Russia in her might was collecting her forces for a spring. - The great flat ferry was crossing and recrossing, and down the swamp that - courtesy called a road came endless streams of square khaki-coloured - carts, driven by men in flat caps and belted khaki blouses, big fair men, - often giants with red, sun-tanned faces and lint-white hair, men who - shouted and laughed and sang and threw up their caps, who were sober as - judges and yet were wild with excitement; they were going to the war. I - could not understand one word they said, but there is no mistaking - gladness, and these men were delighted with their lot. I wondered was it a - case of the prisoner freed or was it that life under the old regime in a - Russian village was dull to monotony and to these recruits was coming the - chance of their lifetime. - </p> - <p> - Some will never come east again, never whether in love or hate will they - see the steppes and the flowers and the golden sunshine and the snow of - Siberia, they have left their bones on those battle-fields; but some, I - hope, will live to see the regeneration of Russia, when every man shall - have a chance of freedom and happiness. I suppose this revolution was in - the air as cart after cart drove on to the ferry and the men yelled and - shouted in their excitement. A small company of men who were going east - looked at them tolerantly—I'm sure it was tolerantly—and then - they too caught the infection and yelled in chorus. - </p> - <p> - I watched it all with interest. - </p> - <p> - Then half-an-hour passed and still they came; an hour, and I grew a little - worried, for they were still pouring over. Two hours—I comforted - myself, the train did not start till late in the afternoon—three - horns, and there was no cessation in the stream. And of course I could - make no one understand. It looked as if I might wait here all night. At - last a man who was manifestly an officer came galloping along and him I - addressed in French. - </p> - <p> - “Is it possible to cross on the ferry?” - </p> - <p> - He was very courteous. - </p> - <p> - “It is not possible to cross, Madame. It is not possible. The soldiers - come first.” - </p> - <p> - I took another look at the good-humoured, strapping, fair-haired soldiers - in khaki, with their khaki-coloured carts. The ferry crossing was laden - with them, hundreds of others were waiting, among them numbers of country - people. They had bundles and laden baskets and looked people who had - shopped and wanted to go home again. Were these exiles? I did not know. - They looked simple peasants. Whoever they were, there did not seem much - chance for them or me, and I said the one Russian word I knew, “steamer,” - and indicated that I wanted to go back there. Much as I wanted to go home, - tired as I was of travelling, I decided I would postpone my railway - journey for a day and take advantage of that comfortable Russian custom - that allows you to live on a steamer for two days while she is in port. - The <i>ishvornik</i> nodded, back we went helter-skelter to the wharf and—the - steamer was gone! - </p> - <p> - I have had some bad moments in my life, but that one stands out still. - Why, I hardly know, for sitting here in my garden it does not seem a very - terrible thing. I had plenty of money in my pocket and there were hotels - in the town. But no! more than ever, safe here in Kent, do I dread a - Siberian hotel! Then I was distinctly afraid. I might so easily have - disappeared and no one would have asked questions for months to come. I - tried to tell the boy I wanted to go to one of those dreaded hotels—I - felt I would have to risk it, for I certainly could not spend the night in - a droshky—and I could not make him understand. Perhaps, as in - Saghalien, there were no hotels to accommodate a woman of my class, or - perhaps, as is most probable, they were all full of soldiers, anyhow he - only looked at me blankly, and Buchanan and I looked at each other. - Buchanan anyhow had no fears. He was quite sure I could take care of him. - I looked at the boy again and then, as if he had suddenly had an - inspiration, he drove me back to the place opposite the ferry whence we - had come. The soldiers were there still, crowds and crowds of them, with - their little carts and horses, and they were amusing themselves by - stealing each other's fodder; the ferry had come back, but there were no - soldiers on it, only the country people were crowding down. I had been - forbidden to go upon it, and never should I have dreamt of disobeying - orders, but my driver had different views. He waited till no officer was - looking, seized my baggage and flung it down on the great ferry right in - front of the military stores, beside the refreshment stall where they were - selling sausages and bread in round rings such as peasants eat, and tea - and lemonade. I had not expected to find so commonplace a thing on a river - in Siberia. Now I had sat in that dilapidated carriage for over four hours - and I was weary to death, also I could not afford to be parted from my - luggage, so I put Buchanan under my arm—it was too muddy for him to - walk—and followed as fast as I could. My good angel prompted me to - pay that driver well. I paid him twice what the mate had said it ought to - cost me if I waited half-a-day, and never have I laid out money to better - advantage. He turned to a big man who was standing by, a man in sea-boots, - a red belted blouse and the tall black Astrakhan cap that I have always - associated in my own mind 'with Circassians, and spoke to him, saying - “Anglisky.” Evidently he said it might be worth his while to look after - me. I don't know whether this gentleman was a Caucasian, one of the - “wolves of the Amur,” but whoever he was, he was a very hefty and capable - individual, with a very clear idea of what a foreign lady ought to do, and - he promptly constituted himself my guardian. - </p> - <p> - After all, the world, take it on the whole, is a very kindly, honest - place. So many times have I been stranded when I might quite easily have - been stripped of everything, and always some good Samaritan has come to my - aid, and the reward, though I did my best, has never been commensurate - with the services rendered. - </p> - <p> - The ferry across the Shilka at Stretensk is a great affair, like a young - paddock afloat, and beside the horses and carts upon it were a number of - country people with their bundles. I sat there a little uncomfortably - because I did not know what would happen, only I was determined not to be - parted from my baggage. Presently the huge float drifted off, amidst wild - shouts and yells. When I was there, a great deal in Russia was done to the - accompaniment of much shouting, and I rather fancy that this ferry was - going off on an unauthorised jaunt of its own. The Shilka is a broad river - here, a fortnight's steamer journey from its mouth, but the ferry came to - a full stop in the middle of the stream and a motor boat which did not - look as if it could hold half the people came alongside. - </p> - <p> - “Skurry! Skurry!” was the cry, and the people began leaping overboard into - the boat. The military were getting rid summarily of their civilian crowd. - In a few seconds that boat was packed to the gunwales and I was looking - over at it. I had Buchanan under my arm; he was always a good little dog - at critical moments, understanding it was his part to keep quiet and give - as little trouble as possible. In my other hand I had my despatch-case, - and, being anything but acrobatic by temperament, I felt it was hopeless - to think of getting into it. If the penalty for not doing so had been - death, I do not think I could have managed it. However, I didn't have a - say in the matter. The big Russian in the red blouse picked me up and - dropped me, little dog, box and all, into the boat, right on top of the - people already there. First I was on top, and then, still hanging on to my - little dog, I slipped down a little, but my feet found no foothold; I was - wedged between the screaming people. After me, with my luggage on his - shoulder, came my guardian, and he somehow seemed to find a very - precarious foothold on the gunwale, and he made me understand he wanted - two roubles for our fares. If he had asked for ten he would have got it, - but how I managed to get at my money to this day I do not know. The boat - rocked and swayed in a most alarming manner, and I thought to myself, - Well, we are on top now, but presently the boat will upset and then we - shall certainly be underneath. I gathered that the passengers were - disputing with the boatman as to the price to be paid for the passage - across, though this was unwise, for the ferry was threatening momentarily - to crush us against the rocky bank. He was asking sixty kopecks—a - little over a shilling—and with one voice they declared that forty - was enough. Considering the crowd, forty I should have thought would have - paid him excellently. That I had given my guardian more did not trouble - me, because any extra he earned was more than justified, for one thing was - certain, I could never have tackled the job by myself. - </p> - <p> - Just as I was growing desperate and Buchanan began to mention that he was - on the verge of suffocation the difficulty of the fares was settled and we - made for the bank. But we did not go to the usual landing-stage; that, I - presume, was forbidden as sacred to the soldiers, and we drew up against a - steep, high bank faced with granite. - </p> - <p> - “Skurry! Skurry!” And more than ever was haste necessary, for it looked as - if the great ferry would certainly crush us. The people began scrambling - up. But I was helpless. Whatever happened, I knew I could never climb that - wall. I could only clutch my little dog and await events. My guardian was - quite equal to the situation. The boat had cleared a little and there was - room to move, and, dropping the baggage, he picked me up like a baby and - tossed me, dog and all, up on to the bank above. Whether that boat got - clear away from the ferry I do not know. When I visited the place next - morning there were no remains, so I presume she did, but at the time I was - giving all my attention to catching a train. - </p> - <p> - My guardian engaged a boy to carry the lighter baggage, and shouldering - the rest himself, he took me by the arm and fairly raeed me up the steep - incline to the railway station that was a seething mass of khaki-clad men. - </p> - <p> - “Billet! Billet!” said he, raping the sweat from his streaming face and - making a way for me among the thronging recruits. There was a train coming - in and he evidently intended I should catch it. - </p> - <p> - Such a crowd it was, and in the railway station confusion was worse - confounded. It was packed with people—people of the poorer class—and - with soldiers, and everyone was giving his opinion of things in general at - the top of his voice. My stalwart guardian elbowed a way to the - pigeon-hole, still crying, “Billet! Billet!” and I, seeing I wanted a - ticket to Petrograd, produced a hundred-rouble note. The man inside pushed - it away with contumely and declined it in various unknown tongues. I - offered it again, and again it was thrust rudely aside, my guardian - becoming vehement in his protests, though what he said I have not the - faintest idea. I offered it a third time, then a man standing beside me - whisked it away and whisked me away too. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, are you mad?” he asked, as Mr Barentzen had asked over a week - before, but he spoke in French, very Russian French. And then he proceeded - to explain volubly that all around were thieves, robbers and assassins—oh! - the land of suffering exiles—the mobilisation had called them up, - and any one of them would cut my throat for a good deal less than a - ten-pound note. And he promptly shoved the offending cash in his pocket. - It was the most high-handed proceeding I have ever taken part in, and I - looked at him in astonishment. He was a man in a green uniform, wearing a - military cap with pipings of white and magenta, and the white and magenta - were repeated on the coat and trousers. On the whole, the effect was - reassuring. A gentleman so attired was really too conspicuous to be - engaged in any very nefarious occupation. - </p> - <p> - He proceeded to explain that by that train I could not go. - </p> - <p> - It was reserved for the troops. They were turning out the people already - in it. This in a measure explained the bedlam in the station. The people - who did not want to be landed here and the people who wanted to get away - were comparing notes, and there were so many of them they had to do it at - the top of their voices. - </p> - <p> - “When does the next train go?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - My new friend looked dubious. “Possibly to-morrow night,” said he. That - was cheering. - </p> - <p> - “And where is there a hotel?” - </p> - <p> - He pointed across the river to Stretensk. - </p> - <p> - “Are there none this side?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Madame, not one.” - </p> - <p> - I debated. Cross that river again after all it had cost me to get here I - could not. - </p> - <p> - “But where can I stay?” - </p> - <p> - He looked round as if he were offering palatial quarters. - </p> - <p> - “Here, Madame, here.” - </p> - <p> - In the railway station; there was nothing else for it; and in that railway - station I waited till the train came in the following evening. - </p> - <p> - That little matter settled, I turned to reward my first friend for his - efforts on my behalf, and I felt five roubles was little enough. My new - friend was very scornful, a rouble was ample, he considered. He had my - ten-pound note in his pocket, and I am afraid I was very conscious that he - had not yet proved himself, whereas the other man had done me yeoman's - service, and never have I parted with ten shillings with more - satisfaction. They were certainly earned. - </p> - <p> - After, I set myself to make the best of the situation. The station was - crowded with all sorts and conditions of people, and a forlorn crowd they - looked, and curious was the flotsam and jetsam that were their belongings. - Of course there was the usual travellers' baggage, but there were other - things too I did not expect to come across in a railway station in - Siberia. There was a sewing-machine; there was the trumpet part of a - gramophone; there was the back of a piano with all the wires showing; - there was a dressmaker's stand, the stuffed form of a woman, looking - forlorn and out of place among the bundles of the soldiers. - </p> - <p> - But the people accepted it as all in the day's work, watched the soldiers - getting into the carriages from which they were debarred, and waved their - hands and cheered them, though the first train that started for anywhere - did not leave till one-fifteen a.m. next morning. They were content that - the soldiers should be served first. They settled themselves in little - companies on the open platform, in the refreshment-room, in the - waiting-rooms, fathers, mothers, children and dogs, and they solaced - themselves with kettles of tea, black bread and sausages. - </p> - <p> - It was all so different from what I had expected, so very different, but - the first effect was to bring home to me forcibly the fact that there was - a great struggle going on in the West, and Eastern Siberia was being drawn - into the whirlpool, sending her best, whether they were the exiles of my - dreams or the thieves and robbers my newest friend had called them, to - help in the struggle! To wait a night and day in a railway station was - surely a little sacrifice to what some must make. How cheerfully and - patiently that Siberian crowd waited! There were no complaints, no moans, - only here and there a woman buried her head in her shawl and wept for her - nearest and dearest, gone to the war, gone out into the unknown, and she - might never see him again, might never even know what became of him. Truly - “They also serve who only stand and wait.” - </p> - <p> - I went into the refreshment-room to get some food, and had soup with sour - cream in it, and ate chicken and bread and butter and cucumber and drank - <i>kvass</i> as a change from the eternal tea. I watched the people on the - platform and as the shades of night fell began to wonder where I should - sleep. I would have chosen the platform, but it looked as if it might - rain, so I went into the ladies' waiting-room, dragged a seat across the - open window, and spread out my rugs and cushions and established myself - there. I wanted to have first right to that window, for the night up in - the hills here was chilly and I felt sure somebody would come in and want - to shut it. My intuitions were correct. Buchanan and I kept that open - window against a crowd. Everybody who came in—and the room was soon - packed—wanted to shut it. They stretched over me and I arose from my - slumbers and protested. For, in addition to a crowd, the sanitary - arrangements were abominable, and what the atmosphere would have been like - with the window shut I tremble to think. I remembered the tales of the - pestilential resthouses into which the travelling exiles had been thrust, - and I was thankful for that window, thankful too that it was summer-time, - for in winter I suppose we would have had to shut it. At last one woman - pulled at my rugs and said—though I could not understand her - language her meaning was plain enough—that it was all very well for - me, I had plenty of rugs, it was they who had nothing. It was a fair - complaint, so with many qualms I shared my rugs and the summer night - slowly wore to morning. - </p> - <p> - And morning brought its own difficulties. Russian washing arrangements to - me are always difficult. I had met them first in Kharbin in the house of - Mr Poland. I wrestled with the same thing in the house of the Chief of - Police in Saghalien, and I met it in an aggravated form here in the - railway station waiting-room. A Russian basin has not a plug—it is - supposed to be cleaner to wash in running water—and the tap is a - twirly affair with two spouts, and on pressing a little lever water gushes - out of both and, theoretically, you may direct it where you please. - Practically I found that while I was directing one stream of water down on - to my hands, the other hit me in the eye or the ear, and when I got that - right the first took advantage of inattention and deluged me round the - waist. It may be my inexperience, but I do not like Russian basins. It was - running water with a vengeance, it all ran away. - </p> - <p> - However, I did the best I could, and after, as my face was a little rough - and sore from the hot sun of the day before, I took out a jar of hazeline - cream and began to rub it on my cheeks. This proceeding aroused intense - interest in the women around. What they imagined the cream was for I don't - know, but one and all they came and begged some, and as long as that pot - held out every woman within range had hazeline cream daubed on her - weather-beaten cheeks, and they omitted to rub it off, apparently - considering it ornamental. However, hazeline cream is a pleasant - preparation. - </p> - <p> - Having dressed, Buchanan and I had the long day before us, and I did not - dare leave the railway station to explore because I was uneasy about my - luggage. I had had it put in the corner of the refreshment-room and as far - as I could see no one was responsible for it, and as people were coming - and going the livelong day I felt bound to keep an eye upon it. I also - awaited with a good deal of interest the gentleman with the variegated - uniform and my ten-pound note. He came at last, and explained in French - that he had got the change but he could not give it to me till the train - came in because of the thieves and robbers, as if he would insist upon - tearing the veil of romance I had mapped round Siberia. And God forgive me - that I doubted the honesty of a very kindly, courteous gentleman. - </p> - <p> - It was a long, long day because there was really nothing to do save to - walk about for Buchanan's benefit, and I diversified things by taking odd - meals in the refreshment-room whenever I felt I really must do something. - But I was very tired. I began to feel I had been travelling too long, and - I really think if it had not been for Buchanan's sympathy I should have - wept. No one seemed at all certain when the next train west might be - expected, opinions, judging by fingers pointing at the clock, varying - between two o'clock in the afternoon and three o'clock next morning. - However, as the evening shadows were beginning to fall a train did come - in, and my friend in uniform, suddenly appearing, declared it was the - western train. Taking me by the hand, he led me into a carriage and, - shutting the door and drawing down the blinds, placed in my hands change - for my ten-pound note. - </p> - <p> - “Guard your purse, Madame,” said he, “guard your purse. There are thieves - and robbers everywhere!” - </p> - <p> - So all the way across Siberia had I been warned of the unsafe condition of - the country. At Kharbin, at Nikolayeusk, at Blagoveschensk men whose good - faith I could not doubt assured me that a ten-pound note and helplessness - was quite likely to spell a sudden and ignominious end to my career, and - this was in the days when no one doubted the power of the Tsar, a bitter - commentary surely on an autocracy. What the condition of Siberia must be - now, with rival factions fighting up and down the land, and released - German prisoners throwing the weight of their strength in with the - Bolshevists, I tremble to think. - </p> - <p> - When he made sure I had carefully hidden my money and thoroughly realised - the gravity of the situation, my friend offered to get my ticket, a - second-class ticket, he suggested. I demurred. I am not rich and am not - above saving my pennies, but a first-class ticket was so cheap, and - ensured so much more privacy, that a second-class was an economy I did not - feel inclined to make. He pointed round the carriage in which we were - seated. Was this not good enough for anyone? It was. I had to admit it, - and the argument was clinched by the fact that there was not a first-class - carriage on the train. The ticket only cost about five pounds and another - pound bought a ticket for Buchanan. We got in—my friend in need got - in with me, that misjudged friend; it seemed he was the stationmaster at a - little place a little way down the line—and we were fairly off on - our road to the West. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV—ON A RUSSIAN MILITARY TRAIN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> was in the train - at last, fairly on my way home, and I was glad. But I wasn't glad for very - long. I began to wish myself back in the railway station at Stretensk, - where at least I had fresh air. At first I had the window open and a - corner seat. There are only two people on a seat in a Russian - long-distance train, because when night falls they let down the seat - above, which makes a bunk for the second person. But I was second class - and my compartment opened without a door into the other compartments in - the carriage, also two more bunks appeared crossways, and they were all - filled with people. We were four women, two men who smoked, a baby who - cried, and my little dog. I spread out my rugs and cushions, and when I - wanted the window open the majority were against me. Not only was the - window shut, but every ventilating arrangement was tightly closed also, - and presently the atmosphere was pestilential. I grew desperate. I - wandered out of the carriage and got on to the platform at the end, where - the cold wind—for all it was August—cut me like a knife. The - people objected to that cold wind coming in, and the next time I wandered - out for a breath of fresh air I found the door barred and no prayers of - mine would open it. In that carriage the people were packed like sardines, - but though I was three-quarters suffocated no one else seemed at all the - worse. I couldn't have looked at breakfast next morning, but the rest of - the company preened themselves and fed cheerfully from the baskets they - carried. Then at last I found a student going to a Western Siberian - university who spoke a little French and through him I told the - authorities that if I could not be transferred to a first-class carriage I - was to be left behind at the next station. I had spent a night in a - station and I knew all about it; it wasn't nice, but it was infinitely - preferable to a night in a crowded second-class carriage. - </p> - <p> - After a little while the train master came and with the aid of the student - informed me that there would be a first-class carriage a little farther on - and if there was room I should go in it, also we would know in an hour or - so. - </p> - <p> - So I bore up, and at a little town in the hills I was taken to a - first-class compartment. There were three—that is, six bunks—making - up half of a second-class carriage, and they were most luxurious, with - mirrors and washing arrangements complete. The one I entered was already - occupied by a very stout woman who, though we did not know any tongue in - common, made me understand she was going to a place we would reach next - morning for an operation, and she apologised—most unnecessarily but - most courteously—for making me take the top bunk. She had a big - Irish setter with her whom she called “Box”—“Anglisky,” as she said—and - “Box” was by no means as courteous and friendly as his mistress, and not - only objected to Buchanan's presence but said so in no measured terms. I - had to keep my little dog up on the top bunk all the time, where he peered - over and whimpered protestingly at intervals. There was one drawback, and - so kind and hospitable was my stable companion that I hardly liked to - mention it, but the atmosphere in that compartment you could have cut with - a knife. Wildly I endeavoured to open the windows, and she looked at me in - astonishment. But I was so vehement that the student was once more brought - along to interpret, and then everybody took a turn at trying to open that - window. I must say I think it was exceedingly kind and hospitable of them, - for these people certainly shrank from the dangers of a draught quite as - much as I did from the stuffiness of a shut window. But it was all to no - purpose. That window had evidently never been opened since the carriage - was made and it held on gallantly to the position it had taken up. They - consulted together, and at length the student turned to me: - </p> - <p> - “Calm yourself, Madame, calm yourself; a man will come with an - instrument.” And three stations farther down the line a man did appear - with an instrument and opened that window, and I drew in deep breaths of - exceedingly dusty fresh air. - </p> - <p> - The lady in possession and I shared our breakfast. She made the tea, and - she also cleaned out the kettle by the simple process of emptying the tea - leaves into the wash-hand basin. That, as far as I saw, was the only use - she made of the excellent washing arrangements supplied by the railway. - But it is not for me to carp, she was so kind, and bravely stood dusty - wind blowing through the compartment all night just because I did not like - stuffiness. And when she was gone, O luxury! Buchanan and I had the - carriage to ourselves all the way to Irkutsk. - </p> - <p> - And this was Siberia. We were going West, slowly it is true, but with - wonderful swiftness I felt when I remembered—and how should I not - remember every moment of the time?—that this was the great and - sorrowful road along which the exiles used to march, that the summer sun - would scorch them, these great plains would be snow-covered and the - biting, bitter wind would freeze them long before they reached their - destination. I looked ahead into the West longingly; but I was going - there, would be there in less than a fortnight at the most, while their - reluctant feet had taken them slowly, the days stretched into weeks, the - weeks into months, and they were still tramping east into an exile that - for all they knew would be lifelong. Ah! but this road must have been - watered with blood and tears. Every river, whether they were ferried over - it or went across on the ice, must have seemed an added barrier to the man - or woman thinking of escape; every forest would mean for them either - shelter or danger, possibly both, for I had not forgotten the tigers of - the Amur and the bears and wolves that are farther west. And yet the - steppes, those hopeless plains, must have afforded still less chance of - escape. - </p> - <p> - Oh! my early ideas were right after all. Nature was jailer enough here in - Siberia. Men did escape, we know, but many more must have perished in the - attempt, and many, many must have resigned themselves to their bitter - fate, for surely all the forces of earth and air and sky had ranged - themselves on the side of the Tsar. This beautiful country, and men had - marched along it in chains! - </p> - <p> - At Chita, greatly to my surprise, my <i>sotnik</i> of Cossacks joined the - train, and we greeted eaeh other as old friends. Indeed I was pleased to - see his smiling face again, and Buchanan benefited largely, for many a - time when I was not able to take him out for a little run our friend came - along and did it for us. - </p> - <p> - The platforms at Siberian stations are short and this troop train, packed - with soldiers, was long, so that many a time our carriage never drew up at - the platform at all. This meant that the carriage was usually five feet - from the ground, and often more. I am a little woman and five feet was all - I could manage, when it was more it was beyond me. Of course I could have - dropped down, but it would have been impossible to haul myself up again, - to say nothing of getting Buchanan on board. A Russian post train—and - this troop train was managed to all intents and purposes as a post train—stops - at stations along the line so that the passengers may get food, and five - minutes before it starts it rings a “Make ready” bell one minute before it - rings a second bell, “Take your seats,” and with a third bell off the - train goes. And it would have gone inexorably even though I, having - climbed down, had been unable to climb up again. Deeply grateful then were - Buehanan and I to the <i>sotnik</i> of Cossacks, who recognised our - limitations and never forgot us. - </p> - <p> - I liked these Russian post trains far better than the train <i>de luxe</i>, - with its crowd and its comforts and its cosmopolitan atmosphere. A Russian - post train in those days had an atmosphere of its own. It was also much - cheaper. From Stretensk to Petrograd, including Buehanan, the cost was a - little over nine pounds for the tickets, and I bought my food by the way. - It was excellent and very cheap. All the things I had bought in Kharbin, - especially the kettles, came into use once more. The moment the train - stopped out tumbled the soldiers, crowds and crowds of them, and raced for - the provision stalls and for the large boilers full of water that are a - feature of every Russian station on the overland line. These boilers are - always enclosed in a building just outside the railway station, and the - spouts for the boiling water, two, three and sometimes four in a row, come - out through the walls. Beside every spout is an iron handle which, being - pulled, brings the boiling water gushing out. Russia even in those days - before the revolution struck me as strangely democratic, for the soldiers, - the non-commissioned officers, the officers and everyone else on the train - mingled in the struggle for hot water. I could never have got mine filled, - but my Cossack friend always remembered me and if he did not come himself - sent someone to get my kettles. Indeed everyone vied in being kind to the - Englishwoman, to show, I think, their good will to the only representative - of the Allied nation on the train. - </p> - <p> - It was at breakfast-time one warm morning I first made the acquaintance of - “that very great officer,” as the others called him, the captain of the <i>Askold</i>. - He was in full naval uniform, and at that time I was not accustomed to - seeing naval officers in uniform outside their ships, and he was racing - along the platform, a little teapot in one hand, intent on filling it with - hot water to make coffee. He was not ashamed to pause and come to the - assistance of a foreigner whom he considered the peasants were shamefully - overcharging. They actually wanted her to pay a farthing a piece for their - largest cucumbers! He spoke French and so we were able to communicate, and - he was kind enough to take an interest in me and declare that he himself - would provide me with cucumbers. He got me four large ones and when I - wanted to repay him he laughed and said it was hardly necessary as they - only cost a halfpenny! He had the compartment next to mine and that - morning he sent me in a glass of coffee—we didn't run to cups on - that train. Excellent coffee it was too. Indeed I was overwhelmed with - provisions. One woman does not want very much to eat, but unless I - supplied myself liberally and made it patent to all that I had enough and - more than enough I was sure to be supplied by my neighbours out of - friendship for my nation. From the Cossack officer, from a Hussar officer - and his wife who had come up from Ugra in Mongolia, and from the captain - of the <i>Askold</i> I was always receiving presents. Chickens, smoked - fish—very greasy, in a sheet of paper, eaten raw and very excellent—raspberries - and blue berries, to say nothing of cucumbers, were rained upon me. - </p> - <p> - At some stations there was a buffet and little tables set about where the - first and second class passengers could sit down and have <i>déjeuner</i>, - or dinner, but oftener, especially in the East, we all dashed out, first, - second and third class, and at little stalls presided over by men with - kerchiefs on their heads and sturdy bare feet, women that were a joy to me - after the effete women of China, bought what we wanted, took it back with - us into the carriages and there ate it. I had all my table things in a - basket, including a little saucer for Buchanan. It was an exceedingly - economical arrangement, and I have seldom enjoyed food more. The bread and - butter was excellent. You could buy fine white bread, and bread of varying - quality to the coarse black bread eaten by the peasant, and I am bound to - say I very much like fine white bread. There was delicious cream; there - were raspberries and blue berries to be bought for a trifle; there were - lemons for the tea; there was German beet sugar; there were roast chickens - at sixpence apiece, little pasties very excellent for twopence-halfpenny, - and rapchicks, a delicious little bird a little larger than a partridge, - could be bought for fivepence, and sometimes there was plenty of honey. - Milk, if a bottle were provided, could be had for a penny-farthing a - quart, and my neighbours soon saw that I did not commit the extravagance - of paying three times as much for it, which was what it cost if you bought - the bottle. - </p> - <p> - The English, they said, were very rich! and they were confirmed in their - belief when they found how I bought milk. Hard-boiled eggs were to be had - in any quantity, two and sometimes three for a penny-farthing. I am - reckoning the kopeck as a farthing. These were first-class prices, the - soldiers bought much more cheaply. Enough meat to last a man a day could - be bought for a penny-farthing, and good meat too—such meat nowadays - I should pay at least five shillings for. - </p> - <p> - Was all this abundance because the exiles had tramped wearily across the - steppes? How much hand had they had in the settling of the country? I - asked myself the question many times, but nowhere found an answer. The - stations were generally crowded, but the country round was as empty as it - had been along the Amur. - </p> - <p> - And the train went steadily on. Very slowly though—we only went at - the rate of three hundred versts a day, why, I do not know. There we stuck - at platforms where there was nothing to do but walk up and down and look - at the parallel rails coming out of the East on the horizon and running - away into the West on the horizon again. - </p> - <p> - “We shall never arrive,” I said impatiently. - </p> - <p> - “Ah! Madame, we arrive, we arrive,” said the Hussar officer, and he spoke - a little sadly. And then I remembered that for him arrival meant parting - with his comely young wife and his little son. They had with them a - fox-terrier whom I used to ask into my compartment to play with Buchanan, - and they called him “Sport.” - </p> - <p> - “An English name,” they said smilingly. If ever I have a fox-terrier I - shall call him “Sport,” in kindly remembrance of the owners of the little - friend I made on that long, long journey across the Old World. And the - Hussar officer's wife, I put it on record, liked fresh air as much as I - did myself. As I walked up and down the train, even though it was warm - summer weather, I always knew our two carriages because in spite of the - dust we had our windows open. The rest of the passengers shut theirs most - carefully. The second class were packed, and the third class were simply - on top of one another—I should not think they could have inserted - another baby—and the reek that came from the open doors and that - hung about the people that came out of them was disgusting. - </p> - <p> - I used to ask my Cossack friend to tea sometimes—I could always buy - cakes by the wayside—and he was the only person I ever met who took - salt with his tea. He assured me the Mongolians always did so, but I must - say though I have tried tea in many ways I don't like that custom. - </p> - <p> - In Kobdo, ten thousand feet among the mountains in the west of Mongolia, - was a great lama, and the Cossack was full of this man's prophecy. - </p> - <p> - Three emperors, said the lama, would fight. One would be overwhelmed and - utterly destroyed, the other would lose immense sums of money, and the - third would have great glory. - </p> - <p> - “The Tsar, Madame,” said my friend, “the Tsar, of course, is the third.” - </p> - <p> - I wonder what part he took in the revolution. He was a Balt, a man from - the Baltic Provinces, heart and soul with the Poles, and he did not even - call himself a Russian. Well, the Tsar has been overwhelmed, but which is - the one who is to have great glory? After all, the present is no very - great time for kings and emperors. I am certainly not taking any stock in - them as a whole. Perhaps that lama meant the President of the United - States! - </p> - <p> - We went round Lake Baikal, and the Holy Sea, that I had seen before one - hard plain of glittering ice, lay glittering now, beautiful still in the - August sunshine. There were white sails on it and a steamer or two, and - men were feverishly working at alterations on the railway. The Angara ran - swiftly, a mighty river, and we steamed along it into the Irkutsk station, - which is by no means Irkutsk, for the town is—Russian fashion—four - miles away on the other side of the river. - </p> - <p> - At Irkutsk it seemed to me we began to be faintly Western again. And the - exiles who had come so far I suppose abandoned hope here. All that they - loved—all their life—lay behind. I should have found it hard - to turn back and go east myself now. What must that facing east have been - for them? - </p> - <p> - They turned us out of the train, and Buchanan and I were ruefully - surveying our possessions, heaped upon the platform, wondering how on - earth we were to get them taken to the cloakroom and how we should get - them out again supposing they were taken, when the captain of the <i>Askold</i> - appeared with a porter. - </p> - <p> - “Would Madame permit,” he asked, not as if he were conferring a favour, - “that her luggage be put with mine in the cloakroom?” - </p> - <p> - Madame could have hugged him. Already the dusk was falling, the soft, warm - dusk, and the people were hastening to the town or to the - refreshment-rooms. There would be no train that night, said my kind - friend, some time in the morning perhaps, but certainly not that night. I - sighed. Again I was adrift, and it was not a comfortable feeling. - </p> - <p> - If Madame desired to dine—— Madame did desire to dine. - </p> - <p> - Then if Madame permits—— Of course Madame permitted. - </p> - <p> - She was most grateful. And we dined together at the same table outside the - station restaurant—I like that fashion of dining outside—under - the brilliant glare of the electric light. He arranged everything for me, - even to getting some supper for Buchanan. And I forgot the exiles who had - haunted me, forgot this was Siberia. Here in the restaurant, save for the - Tartar waiters, it might almost have been France. - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps,” said my companion courteously as we were having coffee, “Madame - would care to come to my hotel. I could interpret for her and here no one - speaks anything but Russian.” - </p> - <p> - Again I could have hugged him. I intimated my dressing-bag was in the - cloakroom, but he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “For one night!” - </p> - <p> - He himself had nothing, so there and then we got into one of the usual - decrepit landaus and went to the town, to Irkutsk on the Angara, in the - heart of Siberia. If in my girlish days when I studied the atlas of the - world so carefully I could have known that one day I should be driving - into Irkutsk, that map would have been glorified for ever and a day; but I - could never have realised, never, that it would be set in a summer land, - warm as my own country, and that I should feel it a great step on towards - the civilisation of the West. - </p> - <p> - It was night, and here and there clustering electric lights glittered like - diamonds, making darker the spaces in between. In the morning I saw that - the capital of Eastern Siberia, like all the other towns of that country, - is a regular frontier town. There were the same wide streets grass-grown - at the edges, great houses and small houses side by side, and empty spaces - where as yet there were no houses. We went to the Central Hotel. - </p> - <p> - “I do not go to an expensive hotel,” my companion told me, “this is a - moderate one.” - </p> - <p> - But if it were moderate it certainly was a very large and nice hotel. - Russian hotels do not as a rule provide food, the restaurant is generally - separate, but we had already dined. That naval officer made all - arrangements for me. He even explained to an astonished chamber-maid with - her hair done in two long plaits that I must have all the windows open and - when I tried for a bath did his best for me. But again, he explained, - Russians as a rule go to a bath-house, and there was only one bathroom in - this hotel; it had been engaged for two hours by a gentleman, and he - thought, seeing I should have to start early in the morning, it might be - rather late for me to have a bath then, but if I liked in the morning it - would be at my service. - </p> - <p> - If anyone had told me in the old days that going to Irkutsk I should be - deeply interested in a bath! - </p> - <p> - I engaged that bath for an hour in the morning as that seemed to be the - correct thing to do. Then I went to bed and heartily envied Buchanan, who - did not have to bother about toilet arrangements. - </p> - <p> - In the morning early there was a knock at the door and when I said “Come - in,” half expecting tea, there was my naval officer in full uniform - smilingly declaring my bath was ready, he had paid the bill, and I could - pay him back when we were on board the train. The chamber-maid, with her - hair still done in two plaits—I rather fancy she had slept in them—conducted - me to the bathroom, and I pass over the difficulty of doing without brush - and comb and tooth-brush. But I washed the dust out of my hair, and when I - was as tidy as I could manage I joined the captain of the <i>Askold</i> - and we drove back through the town to the railway station. - </p> - <p> - The station was a surging mass of people all talking at once, and all, I - suppose, objurgating the railway management, but we two had breakfast - together in the pleasant sunlight. We had fresh rolls and butter and - coffee and cream and honey—I ask no better breakfast when these - things are good—and meanwhile people, officials, came and went, - discussing evidently some important matter with my friend. He departed for - a moment, and then the others that I had known came up, my Cossack friend - and the Hussar officer, and told me that the outgoing train was a military - train, it would be impossible for a woman, a civilian and a foreigner at - that, to go on it. I said the captain of the <i>Askold</i> had assured me - I could, and they shook their heads and then said hopefully, well, he was - a very great officer, the captain of a ship, and I realised that no lesser - authority could possibly have managed this thing for me. And even he was - doubtful, for when he came back and resumed his interrupted breakfast he - said: - </p> - <p> - “The train is full. The military authorities will not allow you on board.” - </p> - <p> - That really did seem to me tragedy at the moment. I forgot the sorrowful - people who would gladly enough have stayed their journey at Irkutsk. But - their faces were set East. I forgot that after all a day or two out of a - life would not matter very much, or rather I think I hated to part from - these kindly friends I had made on the train. I suppose I looked my - disappointment. - </p> - <p> - “Wait. Wait. It is not yet finished,” said my friend kindly. “They give me - two compartments”—I felt then he was indeed “a very great officer,” - for the people were packed in that train, tier upon tier, like herrings in - a barrel—“and I cannot sleep in four bunks. It is ridiculous.” - </p> - <p> - That may have been, but it was kindness itself of him to establish a - stranger in one of those compartments. It was most comfortable, and - Buchanan and I being established, and my luggage having come safely to - hand, I proceeded to make the most of the brush and comb that had come - once more into my possession, and I felt that the world was a very good - place indeed as we sped across the green plain in the sunny morning. I - could hardly believe that this goodly land was the one to which I had - always been accustomed to think men went as to a living death. - </p> - <p> - And then I forgot other folks' troubles in my own, for envious eyes were - cast upon the spare bunk in my compartment. No one would have dreamt of - interfering had the sailor insisted upon having all four for himself, but - since he had parted with the rights of one compartment to a foreign woman, - it was evident that other people, crowded out, began to think of their own - comfort. Various people interviewed me. I am afraid I understood - thoroughly what they wanted, but I did not understand Russian, and I made - the most of that disability. Also all my friends who spoke French kept out - of the way, so I suppose they did not wish to aid and abet in upsetting my - comfort. At last a most extraordinary individual with a handkerchief tied - round his neck in lieu of a collar and a little tourist cap on the back of - his head was brought, and he informed me in French that there was a doctor - in the hospital section of the train who had not been in bed for a week, - they could not turn the soldiers out, they must have rest, would I allow - him to sleep in my compartment? - </p> - <p> - “Madame,” he said, and the officials standing round emphasised the remark, - if it needed emphasis, “it is war time. The train is for the soldiers.” - </p> - <p> - Certainly I was here on sufferance. They had a right to turn me out if - they liked. So the doctor came and turned in in the top bunk, and his - long-drawn snores took away from my sense of privacy. - </p> - <p> - I don't think he liked it very much, for presently he was succeeded by a - train official, very drunk, though I am bound to say he was the only - drunken man I saw on all that long train journey from Stretensk to - Petrograd. It was a little unlucky we were at such close quarters. - Everyone, too, was very apologetic. - </p> - <p> - He was a good fellow. It was an unfortunate accident and he would be very - much ashamed. - </p> - <p> - I suppose he was, for the next day he too disappeared and his place was - taken by a professor from one of the Siberian universities who was seeking - radium. He was a nice old gentleman who had learned English but had never - had the chance of hearing it spoken. Where he went in the daytime I do not - know, probably to a friend's compartment, and Buchanan and I had the place - to ourselves. We could and did invite the Cossack officer and the Hussar - officer and his belongings and the naval man to tea, and we had great - games with the little fox-terrier “Sport” from next door, but when night - fell the professor turned up and notified me he was about to go to bed. - Then he retired and I went to bed first on the lower seat. He knocked, - came in and climbed up to his bunk, and we discoursed on the affairs of - the world, I correcting his curious pronunciation. He really was a man of - the world; he was the sort of man I had expected to meet in Siberia, only - I had never imagined him as free and sharing a railway compartment with - me. I should have expected to find him toiling across the plains with the - chains that bound his ankles hitched to his belt for convenience of - carrying. But he looked and he spoke as any other cultivated old gentleman - might have spoken, and looking back I see that his views of the war, given - in the end of August, 1914, were quite the soundest I have ever listened - to. - </p> - <p> - “The Allies will win,” he used to say, “yes, they will win.” And he shook - his head. “But it will be a long war, and the place will be drenched in - blood first. Two years, three years, I think four years.” I wonder if he - foresaw the chaos that would fall upon Russia. - </p> - <p> - These views were very different from those held by the other men. - </p> - <p> - “Madame,” the Cossack would say, laughing, “do you know a good hotel in - Berlin?” - </p> - <p> - I looked up surprised. “Because,” he went on, “I engage a room there. We - go to Berlin!” - </p> - <p> - “Peace dictated at Berlin,” said they all again and again, “peace dictated - at Berlin.” This was during the first onward rush of the Russians. Then - there came a setback, two towns were taken and the Germans demanded an - indemnity of twenty thousand pounds apiece. - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said the Cossack grimly, and the Hussar nodded his head. - “They have set the tune. Now we know what to ask.” - </p> - <p> - But the professor looked grave. “Many towns will fall,” said he. - </p> - <p> - Another thing that struck me was the friendly relations of the officers - with those under them. As the only representative of their Western Ally on - the train, I was something of a curiosity, and soldiers and - non-commissioned officers liked to make excuse to look at me. I only - wished I had been a little smarter and better-looking for the sake of my - country, for I had had no new clothes since the end of 1912. However, I - had to make the best of it, and the men came to me on the platforms or to - my compartment without fear. If by chance they knew a little French they - spoke to me, helped out by their officers if their vocabulary ran short. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, Madame,” said an old non-commissioned officer, “would you be so - good as to tell me how to pronounce the English 'zee'? I teach myself - French, now I teach myself English.” - </p> - <p> - Well, they had all been good to me and I had no means of repaying their - kindness save vicariously, so I took him in hand and with the aid of a - booklet published by the Wagons Lit Train du Luxe describing the journey - across Siberia we wrestled with the difficulties of the English “th.” - </p> - <p> - It was a long long journey. We crept across the great steppes, we lingered - by stations, sometimes there were lakes, sometimes great rivers, but - always the great plains. Far as the eye could see rolled the extent of - green under the clear blue sky; often we saw herds of cattle and mobs of - horses, and again and again companies of soldiers, and yet so vast is the - country the sensation left upon the stranger is of emptiness, of a rich - and fertile land crying out for inhabitants. I looked at it from the train - with eager eyes, but I began to understand how there had grown up in my - mind the picture of this lovely land as a dark and terrible place. To the - prisoners who came here this plain, whether it were green and smiling, or - whether it were deep in white snow, could only have been the barrier that - cut them off from home and hope, from all that made life dear. How could - they take up their broken lives here, they who for the most part were - dwellers in the cities? - </p> - <p> - Here was a regiment of soldiers; it was nothing, nothing, set in the vast - plain. The buttercups and daisies and purple vetches were trampled down - for a great space where men had been exercising or camping; but it was - nothing. There were wide stretches of country where the cattle were - peacefully feeding and where the flowers turned up smiling faces to the - blue sky for miles and miles, making me forget that this had been the land - of shadowed lives in the past and that away in the West men were fighting - for their very existence, locked in a death-grip such as the world has - never before seen. - </p> - <p> - It was well there was something to look out upon, for that train was - horrid. I realised something of the horrors of the post-houses in which - the prisoners had been locked at night. We could get good food at every - station, but in the train we were too close on the ground and the reek of - us went up to heaven. I felt as if the atmosphere of the train desecrated - the fresh, clear air of the great plain over which we passed, as if we - must breed disease. The journey seemed interminable, and what I should do - when it ended I did not know, for opinion was fairly unanimous: they were - sure I could not get to England! - </p> - <p> - With many apologies the captain of the <i>Askold</i> permitted himself to - ask how I was off for money. I was a total stranger, met on a train, and a - foreigner! I told him I had a little over forty pounds and if that were - not enough I had thought to be able to send to London for more. - </p> - <p> - He shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “I doubt if even letters can get through.” - </p> - <p> - And I sighed that then I did not know what I should do, for I had no - friends in Petrograd. - </p> - <p> - “Pardon, Madame,” said he remonstrantly, and he gave me the address of his - wife and daughters. He told me to go and see them; he assured me that - everybody in Russia now wanted to learn English, that I would have no - difficulty in getting pupils and so do myself very comfortably “till we - make a passage to England again.” - </p> - <p> - Just before we reached Cheliabynsk he came and told me that he had heard - there was a west-bound express with one place vacant, a ship awaited him - and speed was very necessary, therefore he was leaving this train. Then at - one of the greater stopping-places he bowed low over my hand, bade me - farewell, made a dash and caught the express. I have never either seen or - heard of him since, but he remains in my mind as one of the very kindly - men I have met on my way through the world. - </p> - <p> - At Cheliabynsk we spent the livelong day, for there the main part of the - train went on to Moscow with the soldiers, while we who wanted to go to - Petrograd caught a train in the evening. I was glad to find that the - Hussar officer and the Cossack were both bound for Petrograd. And here we - came in touch once more with the West. There was a bookstall, and though I - could not buy an English paper I could and did buy an English book, one of - John Galsworthy's in the Tauchnitz edition. It was a great delight to come - in contact once more with something I could read. There was a big - refreshment-room here with all manner of delectable things to eat, only we - had passed beyond the sturgeon, and caviare was no longer to be had save - at a price that was prohibitive to a woman who had had as much as she - could eat and who anyhow was saving her pennies in case of contingencies. - </p> - <p> - But one thing I did have, and that was a bath. In fact the whole train - bathed. Near the station was a long row of bath-houses, but each one I - visited—and they all seemed unpleasant places—was crowded with - soldiers. After a third attempt to get taken in my Cossack friend met me - and was shocked at the idea of my going to such a place; if I would trust - him he would take me to a proper place after <i>déjeuner</i>. - </p> - <p> - Naturally I trusted him gladly, and we got into one of the usual - broken-down landaus and drove away to the other side of the town to a row - of quite superior bath-houses. My friend declared he knew the place well, - he had been stationed here in “the last revolution,” as if revolutions - came as regularly as the seasons. - </p> - <p> - It was a gorgeous bath-house. That young man bought me soap; he bought me - some sort of loofah for scrubbing; he escorted me to three large rooms - which I engaged for a couple of hours and, much to the surprise of the - people, having had the windows opened, he left me, assuring me that the - carriage should return for me in two hours. There was plenty of hot water, - plenty of cold, and any amount of towels, and both Buchanan and I washed - the grime of the journey from us and then rested on the sofa in the - retiring-room. I read John Galsworthy and punctually to the moment I - descended to the street, clean and refreshed, and there our carriage - awaited us. - </p> - <p> - We bought water-melons on our way back to the train, for the streets were - heaped up with the great dark green melons with the pink flesh that I had - not seen since I left Australia. Autumn was on the land and here were - watermelons proof thereof. - </p> - <p> - Ever as we went west the cornfields increased. Most of the wheat was cut - and standing in golden-brown stooks waiting to be garnered by old men and - boys and sturdy country women and those who were left of her young men, - for Russia had by no means called out her last lines in 1914. There were - still great patches of forest, primeval forest, of dense fir, and I - remembered that here must be the haunts of the wolves and the bear with - which I had always associated Russia. More, though why I know not, my mind - flew back to the times of the nomad hordes who, coming out of Central - Asia, imposed their rule upon the fair-haired Aryan race that had settled - upon the northern plain of Europe. Those forests for me spelled Romance; - they took away from the feeling of commonplaceness that the breaking down - of my preconceived ideas of Siberia had engendered. Almost anything might - happen in a land that held such forests, and such rivers. Not that I was - allowed to see much of the rivers now. Someone always came in and drew - down the blinds in my compartment—I had one to myself since leaving - Cheliabynsk—and told me I must not go out on the platform whenever - we crossed a bridge. They were evidently taking precautions against spying - though they were too polite to say so. There were big towns with stations - packed to overflowing. At Perm we met some German prisoners of war, and - there were soldiers, soldiers everywhere, and at last one day in the first - week in September we steamed into Petrograd. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI—THE WAYS OF THE FINNS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was evening and - we had arrived at Petrograd. For many years I had wanted to see the - northern capital. I had thought of it as a town planned by a genius, - slowly growing amid surrounding swamps, and in my childhood I had pictured - that genius as steadily working as a carpenter—in a white paper cap—having - always in his mind's eye the town that was to grow on the Baltic Sea, the - seaport that should give his country free access to the civilisation of - the West. He was a great hero of mine because of his efficiency; after all - I see no reason why I should dethrone him now that I realise he had the - faults of his time and his position. - </p> - <p> - But in life I find things always come differently to what one pictures - them. The little necessities of life will crop up and must be attended to - first and foremost. The first thought that came to me was that I had to - part with the friends I had made on the journey. Right away from the - borders of China the Cossack officer and I had travelled together; I had - met the Hussar officer and his wife soon after I had joined the train, and - we seemed to have come out of one world into another together. It made a - bond, and I for one was sorry to part. They were going to their own - friends or to a Russian hotel, and the general consensus of opinion was - that I would be more comfortable in a hotel where there were English or at - least French people. - </p> - <p> - “Go to the Grand Hotel, Madame,” suggested the Hussar officer's wife, she - who spoke perfect French. - </p> - <p> - So Buchanan and I loaded our belongings on to a droshky that looked smart - after the ones I had been accustomed to in Asia, bade farewell to our - friends “till after the war”—the Cossack was coming to England then - “to buy a dog”—and drove to the Grand Hotel. - </p> - <p> - The Grand Hotel spoke perfect English, looked at me and—declined to - take me because I had a little dog. I was very much astonished, but - clearly I couldn't abandon Buehanan, so I went on to the Hotel - d'Angleterre, which also declined. I went from hotel to hotel and they all - said the same thing, they could not think of taking in anyone accompanied - by a dog. It was growing dark—it was dark, and after a fortnight on - the train I was weary to death. How could I think of the glories of the - Russian capital when I was wondering where I could find a resting-place? I - couldn't turn Buchanan adrift in the streets, I couldn't camp in the - streets myself, and the hotel porters who could speak English had no - suggestions to make as to where I could bestow my little friend in safety. - Six hotels we went to and everyone was firm and polite, they could not - take a dog. At last a hotel porter had a great idea, the Hotel Astoria - would take dogs. - </p> - <p> - “Why on earth didn't someone tell me so before?” I said, and promptly went - to the Hotel Astoria. It was rather like going to the Hotel Ritz, and - though I should like to stay at the Hotel Ritz I would not recommend it to - anyone who was fearing an unlimited stay in the country, who had only - forty pounds to her credit and was not at all sure she could get any more. - Still the Hotel Astoria took little dogs, actually welcomed them, and - charged four shillings a day for their keep. I forgot Peter the Great and - the building of the capital of Russia, revelling in the comforts of a - delightful room all mirrors, of a bathroom attached and a dinner that it - was worth coming half across the world to meet. My spirits rose and I - began to be quite sure that all difficulties would pass away, I should be - able to get back to England and there would be no need for that desperate - economy. It was delightful to go to bed in a still bed between clean white - sheets, to listen to the rain upon the window and to know that for this - night at least all was well. I had seen no English papers; I knew nothing - about the war, and it is a fact one's own comfort is very apt to colour - one's views of life. Buchanan agreed with me this was a very pleasant - world—as a rule I do find the world pleasant—it was impossible - anything could go wrong in it. - </p> - <p> - And the next day I received a snub—a snub from my own people. - </p> - <p> - I went to the British Consulate full of confidence. Every foreigner I had - met all across the world had been so pleased to see me, had been so - courteous and kind, had never counted the cost when I wanted help, so that - I don't know what I didn't expect from my own countrymen. I looked forward - very mueh to meeting them. And the young gentleman in office snubbed me - properly. He wasn't wanting any truck with foolish women who crossed - continents; he didn't care one scrap whether I had come from Saghalien or - just walked down the Nevsky Prospekt; I was a nuisance anyway, his manner - gave me to understand, since I disturbed his peace and quiet, and the - sooner I took myself out of the country the better he would be pleased. He - just condescended to explain where I could get a ticket straight through - to Newcastle-on-Tyne; people were doing it every day; he didn't know - anything about the war, and his manner gave me to understand that it - wasn't his business to supply travellers with news. I walked out of that - office with all the jauntiness taken out of me. Possibly, I have thought - since, he was depressed at the news from France, perhaps someone was - jeering him because he had not joined up, or else he had wanted to join up - and was not allowed. It was unlucky that my first Englishman after so long - should be such a churlish specimen. I felt that unless my necessity was - dire indeed I should not apply to the British Consulate for help in an - emergency. I did not recover till I went to the company who sold through - tickets, across Finland, across Sweden and Norway, across the North Sea to - Newcastle-on-Tyne. There I bought a ticket for fifteen pounds which was to - carry me the whole way. It was a Swedish company, I think, and the office - was packed with people, Poles, Letts, Lithuanians and Russians, who were - naturalised Americans and who wanted to go home. Everybody took the - deepest interest in Buchanan, so much interest that the man in charge - asked me if I was going to take him, I said “Of eourse,” and he shook his - head. - </p> - <p> - “You will never get him through Sweden. They are most strict.” - </p> - <p> - Poor Buchanan! Despair seized me. Having been to the British Consulate, I - knew it was no use seeking advice there. I suppose I was too tired or I - should have remembered that Americans are always kind and helpful and gone - there or even dared the British Embassy. But these ideas occurred to me - too late. - </p> - <p> - You may travel the world over and the places you visit will often remain - in your mind as pleasant or otherwise not because of any of their own - attributes, but because of the emotions you have suffered in them. Here - was I in St Petrograd, and instead of exploring streets and canals and - cathedrals and palaces my whole thoughts were occupied with the fate of my - little dog. I “had given my heart to a dog to tear” and I was suffering in - consequence. All the while I was in Petrograd—and I stayed there - three days looking for a way out—my thoughts were given to James - Buchanan. I discussed the matter with the authorities in the hotel who - could speak English, and finally Buchanan and I made a peregrination to - the Swedish Consulate. And though the Swedish Consulate was a deal more - civil and more interested in me and my doings than the English, in the - matter of a dog, even a nice little dog like Buchanan, they were firm—through - Sweden he could not go. - </p> - <p> - I read in the paper the other day that the world might be divided into men - and women and people-who-hate-dogs, and these last will wonder what I was - making such a fuss about, but the men and women will understand. My dear - little companion and friend had made the lonely places pleasant for me and - I could not get him out of the country save by turning round and going - back across Europe, Asia and America! - </p> - <p> - I went back to the place where I had bought my ticket. They also were - sympathetic. Everyone in the office was interested in the tribulations of - the cheerful little black and white dog who sat on the counter and wagged - a friendly tail. I had many offers to take care of him for me, and the - consensus of opinion was that he might be smuggled! And many tales were - told me of dogs taken across the borders in overcoats and muffs, or - drugged in baskets. - </p> - <p> - That last appealed to me. Buchanan was just too big to cany hidden easily, - but he might be drugged and covered up in a basket. I went back to the - Astoria and sent for a vet. Also I bought a highly ornamental basket. The - porter thought I was cruel. He thought I might leave the dog with him till - after the war, but he translated the vet's opinion for me, and the vet - gave me some sulphonal. He assured me the little dog would be all right, - and I tried to put worrying thoughts away from me and to see Petrograd, - the capital of the Tsars. - </p> - <p> - But I had seen too much. There comes a moment, however keen you are on - seeing the world, when you want to see no new thing, when you want only to - close your eyes and rest, and I had arrived at that moment. The wide and - busy streets intersected with canals, the broad expanse of the Neva, the - cathedral and the Winter Palace were nothing to me; even the wrecked - German Embassy did not stir me. - </p> - <p> - I was glad then when the fourth morning found me on the Finland station. - The Finland station was crowded and the Finland train, with only second - and third class carnages and bound for Raumo, was crowded also, and it - appeared it did not know its way very well as the line had only just been - opened to meet the traffic west diverted from Germany. A fortnight before - no one had ever heard of Raumo. - </p> - <p> - And now for me the whole outlook was changed. This was no military train, - packed as it was, but a train of men, women and children struggling to get - out of the country, the flotsam and jetsam that come to the surface at the - beginning of a war. And I heard again for the first time since I left - Tientsin, worlds away, English spoken that was not addressed to me. To be - sure it was English with an accent, the very peculiar accent that belongs - to Russians, Lithuanians, Poles and Letts Americanised, and with it - mingled the nasal tones of a young musician from Central Russia who spoke - the language of his adopted land with a most exaggerated accent and the - leisurely, cultivated tones of Oxford. - </p> - <p> - I had come from the East to the West! - </p> - <p> - The carriage was open from end to end and they would not allow Buchanan to - enter it. He, poor little man, in the gorgeous basket that he objected to - strongly, was banished to the luggage-van, and because the carriage was - hot, and also because I felt he would be lonely separated from me, I went - there and kept him company. - </p> - <p> - And in that van I met another Russian naval officer and deepened my - obligations to the Russian navy. He sat down beside me on one of the - boxes, a tall, broad-shouldered, fair man who looked like a Viking with - his moustache shaved off. I found to my joy he spoke English, and I - confided to him my difficulties with regard to breakfast. I was so old a - traveller by now I had learned the wisdom of considering carefully the - commissariat. He was going to the forts on the Finnish border of which he - was in command, but before he left the train we would arrive at a - refreshment-room, and he undertook to arrange matters for me. And so he - did. - </p> - <p> - Petrograd does not get up early, at least the Hotel Astoria did not, and - the most I could manage before I left was a cup of coffee, but I made up - for it at that first refreshment-room. The naval officer took entire - charge and, revelling in his importance, I not only had a very good - breakfast but made the most of my chances and, filling up my basket with a - view to future comforts, bought good things so that I might be able to - exchange civilities with my fellow-passengers on the way to Raumo. I had - eggs and sausages and new bread and scones and a plentiful supply of - fruit, to say nothing of sugar and lemons and cream and meat for Buehanan—the - naval man looking on smiling—and when I had really done myself well - I turned to him and demanded what I ought to pay. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, Madame. In Russia when a gentleman takes a lady for refreshment - he pays!” - </p> - <p> - Imagine my horror! And I had stocked my basket so lavishly! - </p> - <p> - My protests were useless. I was escorted back to our luggage-van and my - thoughts led gently from the coffee and eggs I had consumed and the - sausages and bread I had stowed away in my basket to the state of the war - as it struck the Russian naval mind. - </p> - <p> - Had I heard about the sea fight in the Mediterranean? Not heard about the - little <i>Gloucester</i> attacking the <i>Goeben</i>, the little <i>Gloucester</i> - that the big German battleship could have eaten! A dwarf and a giant! - Madame! Madame! It was a sea fight that will go down through the ages! - Russia was ringing with it! - </p> - <p> - “Do you know anyone in the English navy?” - </p> - <p> - I said I had two brothers in the senior service, a little later and I - might have said three. - </p> - <p> - “Then tell them,” said he earnestly, “we Russian sailors are proud to be - Allies of a nation that breeds such men as manned the <i>Gloucester!</i>” - </p> - <p> - The Finnish border was soon reached and he left us, and the day went on - and discipline I suppose relaxed, for I brought Buchanan into the carriage - and made friends with the people who surrounded me. And then once again - did I bless the foresight of the Polish Jewess in Kharbin who had - impressed upon me the necessity for two kettles. They were a godsend in - that carriage. We commandeered glasses, we got hot water at wayside - stations and I made tea for all within reach, and a cup of tea to a - thirsty traveller, especially if that traveller be a woman, is certainly a - road to that traveller's good graces. - </p> - <p> - Finland is curiously different from Russia. They used to believe in the - old sailing-ship days that every Finn was a magician. Whether they are - magicians or not, they have a beautiful country, though its beauty is as - different from that of the Amur as the Thames is from the Murray in - far-away Australia. Gone were the wide spaces of the earth and the - primitive peoples. We wandered through cultivated lands, we passed lake - and river and woods, crossed a wonderful salmon river, skirted Finland's - inland sea: here and there was a castle dominating the farmhouses and - little towns, the trees were turning, just touched gently by Autumn's - golden fingers, and I remembered I had watched the tender green of the - spring awakening on the other side of the world, more, I had been - travelling ever since. It made me feel weary—weary. And yet it was - good to note the difference in these lands that I had journeyed over. The - air here was clear, clear as it had been in China; it had that curious - charm that is over scenery viewed through a looking-glass, a charm I can - express in no other words. Unlike the great rivers of Russia, the little - rivers brawled over the stones, companionable little streams that 'made - you feel you might own them, on their banks spend a pleasant afternoon, - returning to a cosy fire and a cheery home when the dusk was falling. - </p> - <p> - And this evening, our first day out, we, the little company in my - carriage, fell into trouble. - </p> - <p> - We spoke among us many tongues, English, French, German, Polish, Russian, - Lettish, and one whose tongue was polyglot thought in Yiddish and came - from the streets, the “mean streets” of London, but not one amongst us - spoke Finnish, the language of the magicians, or could even understand one - word of it. This was unfortunate, for the Films either spoke no language - but their own or had a grudge against us and declined to understand us. - That didn't prevent them from turning us out that night in a railway - station in the heart of Finland and leaving us to discover for ourselves - that every hotel in the little town was full to overflowing! Once more I - was faced with it—a night in a railway station. But my predicament - was not so bad shared with others who spoke my language. There was the - Oxford man and the musician with a twang, there was the wife of an - American lawyer with her little boy and the wife of an American doctor - with her little girls—they all spoke English of sorts, used it - habitually—and there were four Austrian girls making their way back - to some place in Hungary. Of course, technically, they were our enemies, - while the Americans were neutral, but we all went in together. The - Russian-American musician had been in Leipsic and was most disgustingly - full of the mighty strength of Germany. - </p> - <p> - The refreshment-rooms were shut, the whole place was in darkness, but it - was a mild night, with a gorgeous September moon sailing out into the - clear sky, and personally I should not have minded spreading my rugs and - sleeping outside. I should have liked it, in fact, but the tales of the - insecurity of Siberia still lingered in my consciousness, and when the - Oxford man said that one of the porters would put us up in his house I - gladly went along with all the others and, better still, took along my - bundles of rugs and cushions. - </p> - <p> - The places that I have slept in! That porter had a quaint little wooden - house set in a garden and the whole place might have been lifted bodily - out of Hans Andersen. We had the freedom of the kitchen, a very clean - kitchen, and we made tea there and ate what we had brought in our baskets. - The Austrian girls had a room to themselves, I lent my rugs to the young - men and they made shift with them in the entrance porch, and the best - sitting-room was turned over to the women and children and me. Two very - small beds were put up very close together and into them got the two women - and three children, and I was accommodated with a remarkably Lilliputian - sofa. I am not a big woman, but it would not hold me, and as for Buchanan, - he looked at me in disgust, said a bed was a proper place for a dog and - promptly jumped on it. But it was full to overflowing of women and - children sleeping the sleep of the utterly weary and he as promptly jumped - off again and the next moment was sitting up in front of my sofa with his - little front paws hanging down. He was a disgusted dog. He always begged - when he wanted me to give him something, and now he begged to show me he - was really in need of a bed. There were great uncurtained windows on two - sides of that room, there were flowers and ferns in pots growing in it, - and the full moon strcamed in and showed me everything: the crowded, - rather gimcrack furniture, the bucket that contained water for us to wash - in in the morning, the bed full of sleeping women and children and the - little black and white dog sitting up in protest against what he - considered the discomforts of the situation. What I found hard to bear - were the hermetically sealed windows—the women had been afraid of - draughts for the children—so as soon as that night wore through and - daylight came stealing through the windows I dressed quietly and, stepping - across the sleeping young men at the door, went outside with Buchanan to - explore Finland. - </p> - <p> - Our porter evidently ran some sort of tea gardens, for there were large - swings set up, swings that would hold four and six people at once, and we - tried them, much to Buchanan's discomfiture. We went for a walk up the - street, a country town street of little wooden houses set in little - gardens, and over all lay a Sabbath calm. It was Sunday, and the people - slept, and the autumn sunlight made the whole place glorious. There is - such rest and peace about the autumn: everything has been accomplished and - now is the fullness of time. I never know which season I like best, each - has its own beauty, but I shall always think of Finland as a land of - little things, charming little things bathed in the autumn sunlight. - </p> - <p> - When the whole party were awake we found some difficulty in getting - something to eat. The porter could not supply us, and at the station, - where they were vigorously sweeping—the Finns are very clean—they - utterly declined to open the first-class refreshment-rooms. We could only - get something to eat in the third-class. There was a great feeling of - camaraderie and good-fellowship among us all, and here I remember the - lawyer's wife insisted upon us all having breakfast at her expense, for - according to her she owed us all something. It was she who added to our - party the Yiddish woman, a fat, square little person hung round with - innumerable bundles, carrying as she did a month's provisions, enough to - last her across to America, for she was a very strict Jew and could eat - nothing but <i>kosher</i> killed meat and <i>kosher</i> bread, whatever - that may be. I know it made her a care, for a month's provisions make - something of a parcel, and when bedding and a certain amount of clothing - has to be carried as well, and no porters are available, the resulting - baggage is apt to be a nuisance. All along the line this fat little person - was liable to come into view, toiling under the weight of her many - bundles. She would be found jammed in a doorway; she would subside - exhausted in the middle of a railway platform—the majority of her - bundles would be retrieved as they fell downstairs—or she blocked - the little gateway through which passengers were admitted one by one, and - the resulting bad language in all the tongues of Northern Europe probably - caused the Recording Angel a good deal of unnecessary trouble. But the - Oxford man and the musician were always ready to help her, and she must - have blessed the day the American lawyer's wife added her to a party which - had such kindly, helpful young men among its members. - </p> - <p> - I found presently that the Oxford man and I were the moneyed members of - the party, the only ones who were paying our way; the others, far richer - people than I, I daresay, had been caught in the whirlpool of the war and - were being passed on from one American consul to another, unable to get - money from their own country. Apparently this was rather an unpleasant - process, meaning a certain scarcity of cash, as an American consul - naturally cannot afford to spend lavishly on his distressed subjects. It - was the irony of fate that some of them were evidently not accustomed to - looking too carefully after the pennies. - </p> - <p> - It took us two days to cross Finland, and towards the end of the journey, - after we had got out to have tea at a wayside station that blossomed out - into ham and tea and bread and honey, we made friends with a certain Finn - whose father had been a Scotsman. At last we were able to communicate with - the people of the country! Also I'm afraid we told him in no measured - terms that we did not think much of his compatriots. That was rather a - shame, for he was exceedingly kind. He was going to England, he told us, - to buy sheepskins for the Russian army, and he took great interest in my - trouble about Buchanan. He examined him carefully, came to the conclusion - he was a perfectly healthy little dog and suggested I should lend him to - him till we reached Sweden, as he was perfectly well known to the - authorities, and Finnish dogs would be allowed to enter Sweden, while a - dog that had come from Russia would certainly be barred. I loved that man - for his kindly interest and I handed over Buchanan in his basket without a - qualm. - </p> - <p> - We were really quite a goodly company when in the dusk of the evening we - steamed into Raumo. The station seemed deserted, but we didn't worry much - about that, as our new Finnish friend suggested the best thing to do was - to go straight down to the steamer, the <i>Uleaborg</i>, a Finnish ship, - and have our dinner and spend the night there. Even if she did not go that - night, and he did not think she would, we could rest and sleep - comfortably. We all agreed, and as the train went on down to the wharf we - appointed him our delegate to go on board and see what arrangements he - could make for us. The minute the train stopped, off he went, and Buchanan - went with him. I was getting easier in my mind about Buchanan now, the - thought of drugging him had been spoiling my pleasure in the scenery. And - then we waited. - </p> - <p> - It began to rain, and through the mist which hid the moonlight to-night we - could see the loom of the ships; they were all white and the lights from - the cabin ports showed dim through the misty rain. The wharf was littered - with goods, barrels and bales, and as there was more than one steamer, and - apparently no one to guide us, or the Scots Finn had not returned, we - tackled the Russian <i>gens d'arme</i> who seemed to be in charge of the - wharf and who was leaning up against the train. - </p> - <p> - “Can you speak Finnish?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! now you have my secret first shot,” said he, with a smile. He, their - guardian, was no more equal to communicating with these people than we - were. And then, to our dismay, before our messenger could return, the - train which considered not a parcel of refugees put on steam and started - back to Raumo! - </p> - <p> - A dozen voices were raised in frantic protest, but we might as well have - spared our breath, the train naturally paid no attention to us, but went - back at full speed to the town proper. It was a comfort when it stopped, - for, for all we knew, it might have gone straight back to Petrograd - itself. And Buchanan, shut up in a basket, was left behind, I knew not - where! They dumped us on that station, bag and baggage, in the rain. We - were worse off here than we were at the wharf, for there the steamer and - comfort at least loomed in the distance. Here was only a bare and empty - station, half-a-dozen men who looked at us as if we were so many wild - beasts on show, and a telephone to the wharf which we were allowed to use - as long as we pleased, but as far as I could gather the only result was a - flow of bad language in many tongues. We might be of many nations, but one - and all were we agreed in our dislike of the Finns and all things Finnish. - If I remember rightly, in the Middle Ages, most people feared and disliked - magicians. - </p> - <p> - We managed to get our baggage into the hall of the station, whieh was - dimly lighted by electric lights, and in anticipation of our coming they - had filled up the station water-carafes. But that was all the provision - they had made. If there was a refreshment-room it had been locked up long - ago, and as far as we could make out, now our interpreter had gone, there - were no hotels or boarding-houses. Our Scots Finn had said it was - impossible to stay in Raumo. We looked at one another in a dismay in which - there was, after all, something comic. This that had befallen us was the - sort of aggravating thing a mischievous magician would cause to happen. We - were tired and hungry and bad-tempered, and I for one was anxious about my - little dog and I began to seek, with cash in my hand, somebody who would - find me Buchanan. - </p> - <p> - How I made my wants known I don't now realise, but money does wonders, and - presently there came in a man bearing his basket and a rapturous little - dog was let out into the room. Where he had been I have not the faintest - idea, and I could not ask, only I gathered that the man who brought him - professed himself perfectly willing to go on fetching little dogs all - night at the same rate, and the musician remarked in his high nasal twang - that he supposed it was no good expecting any more sympathy from Mrs - Gaunt, she was content now she had her little dog. As a matter of fact, - now that my mind was at ease, I was equal to giving my attention to other - people's woes. - </p> - <p> - We tackled the men round us. - </p> - <p> - Where was our messenger? - </p> - <p> - No one knew. - </p> - <p> - Where could we get something to eat? - </p> - <p> - Blank stare. They were not accustomed to foreigners yet at Raumo. The - station had only just been opened. The musician took out his violin and - its wailing tones went echoing and re-echoing through the hall. The - audience looked as if they thought we had suddenly gone mad, and one man - came forward and by signs told us we must leave the station. That was all - very well, we were not enamoured of the station, but the port we judged to - be at least four miles off, and no one was prepared to start down an - unknown road in the dark and pouring rain. There was a long consultation, - and we hoped it meant food, but it didn't. Out of a wilderness of words we - at last arrived at the interesting fact that if we cared to subscribe five - marks one of these gentlemen was prepared to conduct us to the police - station. There appeared to be no wild desire on the part of any of us to - go to the police station, the violin let out a screech of scornful - derision, and one of the officials promptly turned off the electric lights - and left us in darkness! - </p> - <p> - There were many of us, and vexations shared are amusing. We laughed, how - we laughed, and the violin went wailing up and down the octaves. No wonder - the Finns looked at us askance. Even the darkness did not turn us out, for - we had nowhere else to go, and finally a man who spoke English turned up, - the agent for the Swedish steamer. He had thought there would be no - passengers and had gone to bed, to be roused up, I presume by the - stationmaster, as the only person likely to be capable of dealing with - these troublesome people who were disturbing the peace of this Finnish - village. - </p> - <p> - We flew at him—there were about a dozen of us—and showed our - tickets for the Finnish steamer, and he smiled in a superior manner and - said we should be captured by Germans. - </p> - <p> - We didn't believe much in the Germans, for we had many of us come through - a country which certainly believed itself invulnerable. Then a woman - travelling with her two daughters, Americans of the Americans, though - their mother spoke English with a most extraordinary accent, proclaimed - aloud that if there was a Swedish steamer she was going by it as she was - afraid of “dose Yarmans.” She and her daughters would give up their - tickets and go by the Swedish steamer. Protest was useless. If we liked to - break up the party we could. She was not going by the <i>Uleaborg</i>. - Besides, where were we to sleep that night? The Finnish steamer was three - or four miles away down at the wharf and we were here along with the - Swedish agent. - </p> - <p> - The Swedish agent seized the opening thus given. There were no hotels; - there were no boarding-houses; no, it was not possible to get anything to - eat at that hour of the night. Something to drink? Well, in surprised - tones, there was surely plenty of water in the station—there was—and - he would arrange for a train for us to sleep in. The train at ten o'clock - next morning would take us down to the steamer. - </p> - <p> - We retired to that train. Only one of the carriages was lighted, and that - by general consent we gave up to the lady whose fear of the Germans had - settled our affairs for us, and she in return asked us to share what - provisions we had left. We pooled our stores—I don't think I had - anything left, but the others shared with me—and we dined, not - unsatisfactorily, off sardines, black bread, sausages and apples. The only - person left out of the universal friendliness was the Yiddish lady. Out of - her plenty she did not offer to share. - </p> - <p> - “She cannot,” said the musician. “She is saving for the voyage to America. - You see, she can eat none of the shipboard food.” He too came of the same - strict order of Jew, and his grandparents, with whom he had been staying - in Little Russia, had provided him with any amount of sausage made of <i>kosher</i> - meat, but when he was away from his own people he was evidently anything - but strict and ate what pleased him. He shared with the rest of us. - Possibly he was right about the Yiddish woman, and I suppose it did not - really do us any harm to go short till next morning, but it looked very - greedy, and I still wonder at the nerve of a woman who could sit down and - eat sausage and bread and all manner of such-like things while within a - stone's-throw of her people who had helped her in every way they could - were cutting up apples and pears into quarters and audibly wishing they - had a little more bread. The Oxford man and musician had always helped - her, but she could not find it in her heart to spare them one crumb. I - admire her nerve. In America I doubt not she will acquire wealth. - </p> - <p> - After supper Buchanan and I retired to a dark carriage, wrapped ourselves - in my eiderdown and slept till with break of day two capable but plain - Finnish damsels came in to clean the train. I think the sailors' ideas - must have been wrong: every Finn cannot be a magician else they would not - allow all their women to be so plain. I arose and dressed and prepared to - go out and see if Raumo could produce coffee and rolls, but as I was - starting the violinist in the next compartment protested. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't. Guess you haven't got the hang of these Finnish trains. It - might take it into its head to go on. Can't you wait till we reach the - steamer.” - </p> - <p> - I gave the matter my consideration, and while I was considering the train - did take it into its head to go on four hours before its appointed time. - On it went, and at last in the fresh northern dewy morning, with the sun - just newly risen, sending his long low rays streaming across the dancing - waters of the bay, we steamed up to the wharf, and there lay the white - ships that were bound for Sweden, the other side of the Baltic. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII—CAPTURED BY GERMANS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ut we couldn't get - on the steamer at once. For some reason or other there were Customs delays - and everything we possessed had to be examined before we were allowed to - leave the country, but—and we hailed them with delight—under - the goods sheds were set out little tables where we could buy coffee and - rolls and butter and eggs. It was autumn now, and for all the sunshine - here in such high latitudes there was a nip in the air and the hot coffee - was welcome. We met, too, our friend of the night before, the Scots Finn, - but the glamour had departed from him and we paid no attention to his - suggestion that the <i>Goathied</i>, the Swedish steamer, was very much - smaller than the <i>Uleaborg</i> and that there was a wind getting up and - we would all be deadly sick. We said we preferred being sick to being - captured by the Germans. And he laughed at us. There was no need to fear - the Germans in the Baltic so far north. - </p> - <p> - It was midday before we were allowed on board the little white ship, but - still she lingered. I was weary, weary, even the waiting seemed a - weariness so anxious was I to end my long journeying and get home. And - then suddenly I felt very near it, for my ears were greeted by the good - broad Doric of Scotland, and there came trooping on board five and fifty - men, part of the crews of four English ships that had been caught by the - tide of war and laid up at Petrograd and Kronstadt. An opportunity had - been found and they were going back by way of Sweden, leaving their ships - behind till after the war. We did not think the war <i>could</i> last very - long on board that steamer. - </p> - <p> - The Scotsmen had evidently been expected, for on the deck in the bows of - the little steamer—she was only about three hundred tons—were - laid long tables spread with ample supplies of boiled sausages, suet - pudding and potatoes, and very appetising it looked, though in all my - wanderings I had never met boiled sausages before. Down to the feast sat - the sailor-men, and our Yiddish friend voiced aloud my feelings. - </p> - <p> - “Anglisky,” said she unexpectedly, “nice Anglisky boys. Guten appetite, - nice Anglisky boys!” - </p> - <p> - They were very cheery, poor boys, and though they were not accustomed to - her sort in Leith, they received her remarks with appreciative grins. - </p> - <p> - As we started the captain came down upon me. - </p> - <p> - “Who does that dog belong to?” he asked angrily. Everyone on board spoke - English. And before I could answer—I wasn't particularly anxious to - answer—he added: “He can't be landed in Sweden.” - </p> - <p> - My heart sank. What would they do to my poor little dog? I was determined - they shouldn't harm him unless they harmed me first, and if he had to go - back to Russia—well, I would go too; but the thought of going back - made me very miserable, and I made solemn vows to myself that if I by some - miracle got through safely, never, never again would I travel with a dog. - </p> - <p> - And while I was thinking about it there came along a junior officer, mate, - purser, he might have been the cook for all I know, and he said: “If you - have bought this dog in Finland, or even on board the steamer, he can - land.” - </p> - <p> - It was light in darkness, and I do not mind stating that where my dog is - concerned I have absolutely no morals, if it is to save him from pain. He - had been my close companion for over a year and I knew he was perfectly - healthy. - </p> - <p> - “I will give you a good price for him,” said I. “He is a pretty little - dog.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait,” he said, “wait. By and by I see.” - </p> - <p> - Just as we got out of the bay the captain announced that he was not going - to Stockholm at all, but to Gefle, farther north. Why, he did not know. - Such were his orders. In ordinary times to find yourself being landed at - Liverpool, say, when you had booked for London might be upsetting, but in - war time it is all in the day's work, and sailors and crowded passengers - only laughed. - </p> - <p> - “Let's awa',” said the sailors. “Let's awa'.” - </p> - <p> - The air was clear and clean, clean as if every speck of dust had been - washed away by the rain of the preceding night; the little islands at the - mouth of the bay stood out green and fresh in the blue sea, but the head - wind broke it up into little waves, and the ship was empty of cargo and - tossed about like a cork. The blue sea and snow-white clouds, the sunlight - on the dancing waves mattered not to us; all we wanted, those of us who - were not in favour of drowning at once and so ending our misery, was to - land in Sweden. Buchanan sat up looking at me reproachfully, then he too - subsided and was violently sick, and I watched the passengers go one by - one below to hide their misery, even those who had vowed they never were - sea-sick. I stayed on deck because I felt I was happier there in the fresh - air, and so I watched the sunset. It was a gorgeous sunset; the clouds - piled themselves one upon the other and the red sun stained them deepest - crimson. It was so striking that I forgot my sea-sick qualms. - </p> - <p> - And then suddenly I became aware there were more ships upon the sea than - ours, one in particular, a black, low-lying craft, was steaming all round - us, sending out defiant hoots. There were three other ships farther off, - and I went to the rail to look over the darkening sea. - </p> - <p> - Between us and the sunset was the low-lying craft, so close I could see - the gaiters of a man in uniform who stood on a platform a little higher - than his fellows; the little decks were crowded with men and a long gun - was pointed at us. It was all black, clean-cut, silhouetted against the - crimson sunset. - </p> - <p> - We were slowed down, barely moving, the waves slop-slopped against our - sides, and the passengers came scrambling up. - </p> - <p> - “Germans! Yarmans!” they cried, and from the torpedo boat came a voice - through a megaphone. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing with all those fine young men on board?” it asked in - excellent English, the language of the sea. - </p> - <p> - The black torpedo boat was lying up against us. - </p> - <p> - Sea-sickness was forgotten, and the violinist came to me. - </p> - <p> - “They are going to take the young men,” he said, and he was sorry and yet - pleased, because all the time he had been full of the might of the - Germans. - </p> - <p> - I thought of the Oxford man in the very prime of his manhood. - </p> - <p> - “Have you told him?” - </p> - <p> - “Guess I didn't dare,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I think you'd better, or I'll go myself. They are going to search - the ship and he won't like being taken unawares.” - </p> - <p> - So he went down, and presently they came up together. The Oxford man had - been very sea-sick and he thought all the row was caused by the ship - having struck a mine, and he felt so ill that if things were to end that - way he was accepting it calmly, but being captured by Germans was a - different matter. He was the only Englishman in the first class, and when - we heard they were coming for the young men we felt sure he would have to - go. - </p> - <p> - Leaning over the rail of the <i>Goathied</i>, we could look down upon the - black decks of the torpedo boat, blacker than ever now in the dusk of the - evening, for the sun sank and the darkness was coming quickly. A rope - ladder was flung over and up came a couple of German officers. They spoke - perfect English, and they talked English all the time. They went below, - demanded the passenger list and studied it carefully. - </p> - <p> - “We must take those Englishmen,” said the leader, and then he went through - every cabin to see that none was concealed. - </p> - <p> - The captain made remonstrance, as much remonstrance as an unarmed man can - make with three cruisers looking on and a torpedo boat close alongside. - </p> - <p> - “It is war,” said the German curtly, and in the dusk he ranged the - sailor-men along the decks, all fifty-five of them, and picked out those - between the ages of nineteen and forty. Indeed one luckless lad of - seventeen was taken, but he was a strapping fellow and they said if he was - not twenty-one he looked it. - </p> - <p> - It was tragic. Of course there must have been treachery at work or how - should the German squadron have known that the Englishmen were crossing at - this very hour? But a few moments before they had been counting on getting - home and now they were bound for a German prison! In the gathering - darkness they stood on the decks, and the short, choppy sea beat the iron - torpedo boat against the ship's side, and the captain in the light from a - lantern hung against the little house looked the picture of despair. - </p> - <p> - “She cannot stand it! She cannot stand it much longer!” - </p> - <p> - Crash! Crash! Crash! - </p> - <p> - “She cannot stand it! She was never built for it! And she is old now!” - </p> - <p> - But the German paid no attention. The possible destruction of a passenger - ship was as nothing weighed in the balance with the acquirement of six and - thirty fighting men. - </p> - <p> - They were so quiet. They handed letters and small bundles and sometimes - some of their pay to their comrades or to the passengers looking on and - they dropped down that ladder. No one but a sailor could have gone down, - for the ships heaved up and down, and sometimes they were bumping and - sometimes there was a wide belt of heaving dark water between them, - bridged only by that frail ladder. One by one they went, landing on the - hostile deck, and were greeted with what were manifestly jeers at their - misfortune. The getting down was difficult and more than once a bundle was - dropped into the sea and there went up a sigh that was like a wail, for - the passengers looking on thought the man was gone, and I do not think - there would have been any hope for him between the ships. - </p> - <p> - Darker and darker it grew. On the <i>Goathied</i> there were the lighted - decks, but below on the torpedo boat the men were dim figures, German and - English undiscernible in the gloom. On the horizon loomed the sombre bulk - of the cruisers, eaeh with a bright light aloft, and all around was the - heaving sea, the white tops of the choppy waves showing sinister against - the darker hollows. - </p> - <p> - “Anglisky boys! Anglisky boys!” wailed the Yiddish woman, and her voice - cut into the waiting silence. It was their dirge, the dirge for the long, - long months of imprisonment that lay before them. And we were hoping for a - short war! I could hear the Oxford man drawing a long breath occasionally, - steeling himself against the moment when his turn would come. - </p> - <p> - It never came. Why, I do not know. Perhaps they did not realise his - nationality, for being a Scotsman he had entered himself as “British” on - the passenger list, and “British” was not such a well-known word as the - sons of Britain gathering from all corners of the earth to fight the - common foe have made it to-day. - </p> - <p> - “Puir chappies! Puir chappies! A'm losin' guid comrades,” sighed an - elderly man leaning over the side and shouting a farewell to “Andra'.” - </p> - <p> - I murmured something about “after the war,” but he cut me short sternly. - The general opinion was that they would be put to stoke German warships - and as the British were sure to beat them they would go down and be - ingloriously lost. The thought must have been a bitter one to the men on - that torpedo boat. And they took it like heroes. - </p> - <p> - The last man was gone, and as the torpedo boat drew away a sort of moan - went up from the bereft passenger ship and we went on our way, the captain - relieved that we were free before a hole had been knocked in our side. - </p> - <p> - He was so thankful that no worse thing had befallen him that he became - quite communicative. - </p> - <p> - “They are gone to take the <i>Uleaborg</i>,” he said, “and they will blow - her up and before to-morrow morning Raumo will be in flames!” - </p> - <p> - In those days Sweden had great faith in the might of Germany. I hope that - faith is getting a little shaken at last. Still that captain declared his - intention of warning all the ships he could. There were two Finnish ships - of which he knew that he said were coming out of Stockholm that night and - he was going to look for them and warn them. - </p> - <p> - And so the night was alive with brilliant electric light signals and wild - hootings from the steam siren, and he found them at last, all honour to - him for a kindly sailor-man, and the Finnish ships were warned and went - back to Sweden. - </p> - <p> - But no matter how sorry one is for the sufferings of others, the feeling - does not in any way tend to lessen one's own private woes. Rather are they - deepened because sympathy and help is not so easily come by when men's - thoughts are occupied by more—to them more—important matters. - And so I could not go to sleep because of my anxiety about my little dog. - Only for the moment did the taking of the men and my pity for them drive - the thought of his predicament from my mind. - </p> - <p> - We were nearing Sweden, every moment was bringing us closer, and as yet I - had made no arrangements for his safety. He lay curled up on the seat, - hiding his little snub nose and his little white paws with his bushy tail, - for the autumn night was chilly, and I lay fearing a prison for him too, - when he would think his mistress whom he had trusted had failed him. All - the crew were so excited over the kidnapping of the men that my meditated - nefarious transaction was thrust into the background. It was hopeless to - think that any one of them would give ear to the woes of a little dog, so - at last, very reluctantly, I gave him, much to his surprise, a sulphonal - tablet. I dozed a little and when by my watch it was four o'clock Buchanan - was as lively as a cricket. Sulphonal did not seem to have affected him in - any way. I gave him another, and he said it was extremely nasty and he was - surprised at my conduct, but otherwise it made no difference to him. - </p> - <p> - In the grey of the early morning we drew up to the wharf and were told to - get all our belongings on to the lower deck for the Customs to examine - them, and Buchanan was as cheerful and as wide awake as if he had not - swallowed two sulphonal tablets. With a sinking heart I gave him another, - put him in his basket and, carrying it down to the appointed place, threw - a rug over it and piled my two suit-cases on top of it. How thankful I was - there was such a noisy crowd, going over and over again in many tongues - the events of the night. They wrangled too about their luggage and about - their places, and above all their din I could hear poor little James - Buchanan whining and whimpering and asking why his mistress was treating - him so badly. - </p> - <p> - Then came the Customs officer and my heart stood still. He poked an - investigatory hand into my suit-case and asked me—I understood him - quite well—to show him what was underneath. I could hear Buchanan if - he could not, and I pretended that I thought he wanted to know what was at - the bottom of my suit-case and I turned over the things again and again. - He grew impatient, but luckily so did all the people round, and as a woman - dragged him away by force to look at her things so that she could get them - ashore I noticed with immense relief that the sailors were beginning to - take the things to the wharf. Luckily I had taken care the night before to - get some Swedish money—I was taking no chances—and a little - palm oil made that sailor prompt to attend to my wants. Blessings on the - confusion that reigned around! Two minutes later on Swedish soil I was - piling my gear on a little hand-cart with a lot of luggage belonging to - the people with whom I had come across Finland and it was bound to the - railway station. - </p> - <p> - “You have left your umbrella,” cried the violinist. - </p> - <p> - “I don't care,” said I. I had lost my only remaining hat for that matter, - goodness knows what had become of it, but I was not going to put myself - within range of those Customs men again. What did I care about - appearances! I had passed the very worst milestone on my journey when I - got James Buchanan into Sweden; I had awakened from the nightmare that had - haunted me ever since I had taken my ticket in Petrograd, and I breathed - freely. - </p> - <p> - At the railway station we left our luggage, but I got Buchanan's basket, - and we all went across the road to a restaurant just waking to business, - for we badly wanted breakfast. I loved those passengers. I shall always - think of them with gratitude. They were all so kind and sympathetic and - the restaurant folks, who were full of the seizing of the Englishmen on a - Swedish ship—so are joys and sorrows mingled—must have thought - we were a little mad when we all stood round and, before ordering - breakfast, opened a basket and let out a pretty little black and white - dog. - </p> - <p> - And then I'm sorry to say we laughed, even I laughed, laughed with relief, - though I there and then took a vow never again to drug a dog, for poor - little James Buchanan was drunk. He wobbled as he walked, and he could not - make up his mind to lie down like a sensible dog and sleep if off; he was - conversational and silly and had to be restrained. Poor little James - Buchanan! But he was a Swedish dog, and I ate my breakfast with appetite, - and we all speculated as to what had become of the Scots Finn who had - failed me. - </p> - <p> - Gefle reminded me of Hans Andersen even more than Finland had done. It had - neat streets and neat houses and neat trees and neat and fair-haired - women, and Gefle was seething with excitement because the <i>Goathied</i> - had been stopped. It was early days then, and Sweden had not become - accustomed to the filibustering ways of the German, so every poster had - the tale writ large upon it, in every place they were talking about it, - and we, the passengers who walked about the streets, were the observed of - all observers. - </p> - <p> - I was nearing the end of my long journey, very near now, and it did not - seem to me to matter much what I did. We were all—the new friends I - had made on the way from Petrograd—pretty untidy and travel-stained, - and if I wore a lace veil on my hair, the violinist had a huge rent in his - shoe, and, having no money to buy more, he went into a shoe-shop and had - it mended. I, with Buchanan a little recovered, sat beside him while it - was done. - </p> - <p> - And in the afternoon we went by train through the neat and tidy country, - Selma Lagerlof's country, to Stockholm. I felt as if I were resting, - rested, because I was anxious no longer about Buchanan, who slumbered - peacefully on my knee; and if anybody thinks I am making an absurd fuss - about a little dog, let them remember he had been my faithful companion - and friend in far corners of the earth when there were none but alien - faces around me, and had stood many a time between me and utter loneliness - and depression. - </p> - <p> - We discussed these sturdy Swedes. The Chicago woman's daughter, with the - pertness and aptness of the American flapper, summed them up quickly. - </p> - <p> - “The men are handsome,” she said, looking round, “but the women—well, - the women lack something—I call them tame.” - </p> - <p> - And I knew she had hit them off to a “T.” After that I never looked at a - neat and tidy Swedish woman with her hair, that was fair without that - touch of red that makes for gold—gives life—coiled at the back - of her head and her mild eyes looking out placidly on the world around her - without feeling that I too call her tame. - </p> - <p> - Stockholm for the most of us was the parting of the ways. The American - consul took charge of the people who had come across Finland with us and - the Oxford man and I alone went to the Continental Hotel, which, I - believe, is the best hotel in that city. We had an evening meal together - in a room that reminded me very much of the sort of places we used to call - coffee palaces in Melbourne when I was a girl, and I met here again for - the first time for many a long day tea served in cups with milk and cream. - It was excellent, and I felt I was indeed nearing home. Things were - getting commonplace and the adventure was going out of life. But I was - tired and I didn't want adventure any more. There comes a time when we - have a surfeit of it. - </p> - <p> - I remember my sister once writing from her home somewhere in the Malay - jungle that her husband was away and it was awkward because every night a - leopard came and took up his position under the house, and though she - believed he was only after the fowls she didn't like it because of the - children. If ever she complains that she hasn't had enough adventure in - her life I remind her of that and she says that is not the sort of - adventure she has craved. That is always the way. The adventure is not - always in the form we want. I seemed to have had plenty, but I was weary. - I wanted to sit in a comfortable English garden in the autumn sunshine and - forget that such things as trains and ships—perish the thought of a - mule litter—existed. I counted the hours. It couldn't be long now. - We came down into the hall to find that I had been entered on the board - containing the names of the hotel guests as the Oxford man's wife. Poor - young man! It was a little rough on him, for I hadn't even a hat, and I - felt I looked dilapidated. - </p> - <p> - I was too. That night in the sleeper crossing to Christiania the woman who - had the bottom berth spoke excellent English. She was going to some baths - and she gave some advice. - </p> - <p> - “You are very ill, Madame,” said she, “very ill.” - </p> - <p> - I said no, I was only a little tired. - </p> - <p> - “I think,” she went on, “you are very ill, and if you are wise when you - get to Christiania you will go to the Hotel Victoria and go to bed.” - </p> - <p> - I was horrified. Because I felt I must go to England as quickly as - possible, and I said so. - </p> - <p> - “The train does not go to Bergen till night,” said she. “Stay in bed all - day.” And then as we crossed the border a Customs officer came into the - carriage. Now I could easily have hidden Buchanan, but I thought as a - Swedish dog all his troubles were over, and he sat up there looking pertly - at the uniformed man and saying “What are you doing here?” - </p> - <p> - “Have you got a certificate of health for that dog?” asked the man - sternly. - </p> - <p> - I said “No,” remembering how very carefully I had kept him out of the way - of anybody likely to be interested in his health. - </p> - <p> - “Then,” said he, “you must telegraph to the police at Christiania. They - will meet you and take him to a veterinary surgeon.” - </p> - <p> - “And after?” I asked, trembling, my Swedish friend translating. - </p> - <p> - “If his health is good they give him back to you. You take a room at a - hotel and if his health is good he will be allowed to skip about the - streets.” - </p> - <p> - I felt pretty sure he would be allowed to skip about the streets and I - took a room at the Victoria, the Oxford man kindly seeing us through—they - put us down as Mr and Mrs Gaunt here—and James Buchanan, who had - been taken possession of by the police at the station, came back to me, - accompanied by a Norwegian policeman who demanded five shillings and gave - me a certificate that he was a perfectly healthy little dog. - </p> - <p> - I want to go back to Norway when I am not tired and fed up with - travelling, for Christiania struck me as a dear little home-like town that - one could love; and the railway journey across the Dovrefield and even the - breakfast baskets that came in in the early morning were things to be - remembered. I saw snow up in those mountains, whether the first snow of - the coming winter or snow left over from the winter before, I do not know, - but the views were lovely, and I asked myself why I went wandering in - far-away places when there were places like this so close at home and so - easily reached. So near home. We were so near home. I could think of - nothing else. I told Buchanan about it and he licked my hand - sympathetically and told me always to remember that wherever I was was - good enough for him. And then we arrived at Bergen, a little wooden city - set at the head of a fiord among the hills, and we went on board the <i>Haakon - VII.</i>, bound for Newcastle-on-Tyne. - </p> - <p> - And then the most memorable thing happened, the most memorable thing in - what for me was a wondrous journey. All across the Old World we had come, - almost from the very farthest corner of the Old World, a wonderful journey - not to be lightly undertaken nor soon forgotten. And yet as I went on - board that ship I felt what a very little thing it was. I have been - feeling it ever since. A Norwegian who spoke good English was there, going - back to London, and, talking to another man, he mentioned in a casual - manner something about the English contingent that had landed on the - Continent. - </p> - <p> - It startled me. Not in my lifetime, nor in the lifetime of my father, - indeed I think my grandfathers must have been very little boys when the - last English troops landed in France. - </p> - <p> - “English troops!” I cried in astonishment. - </p> - <p> - The Norwegian turned to me, smiling. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he said. “But of course they are only evidence of good will. Their - use is negligible!” - </p> - <p> - And I agreed. I actually agreed. Britain's rôle, it seemed to me, was on - the sea! - </p> - <p> - And in four years I have seen Britain grow into a mighty military power. I - have seen the men of my own people come crowding across the ocean to help - the Motherland; I have seen my sister's young son pleased to be a soldier - in that army, just one of the proud and humble crowd that go to uphold - Britain's might. And all this has grown since I stood there at the head of - the Norwegian fiord with the western sun sparkling on the little wavelets - and heard a friendly foreigner talk about the little army that was - “negligible.” - </p> - <p> - I was tired. I envied those who could work and exert themselves, but I - could do nothing. If the future of the nation had depended on me I could - have done nothing. I was coming back to strenuous times and I longed for - rest. I wanted a house of my own; I wanted a seat in the garden; I wanted - to see the flowers grow, to listen to the birds singing in the trees. All - that our men are fighting for to keep sacred and safe, I longed for. - </p> - <p> - And I have had it, thanks to those fighting men who have sacrificed - themselves for me, I have had it. It is good to sit in the garden where - the faithful little friend I shall never forget has his last - resting-place; it is good to see the roses grow, to listen to the lark and - the cuckoo and the thrush; but there is something in our race that cannot - keep still for long, the something, I suppose, that sent my grandfather to - the sea, my father to Australia, and scattered his sons and daughters all - over the world. I had a letter from a soldier brother the other day. The - war holds him, of course, but nevertheless he wrote, quoting: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - “Salt with desire of travel - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Are my lips; and the wind's wild singing - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - Lifts my heart to the ocean - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And the sight of the great ships swinging.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - And my heart echoed: “And I too! And I too!” - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Broken Journey, Illustrated, by Mary Gaunt - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN JOURNEY, ILLUSTRATED *** - -***** This file should be named 54402-h.htm or 54402-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/4/0/54402/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Broken Journey, Illustrated, by Mary Gaunt
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: A Broken Journey, Illustrated
- Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho Yo the Island of Saghalien
- and the Upper Reaches of The Amur River
-
-Author: Mary Gaunt
-
-Release Date: March 21, 2017 [EBook #54402]
-Last Updated: March 12, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN JOURNEY, ILLUSTRATED ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
- <div style="height: 8em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- A BROKEN JOURNEY
- </h1>
- <h3>
- Wanderings from the Hoang-Ho yo the Island of Saghalien and the Upper
- Reaches of The Amur River
- </h3>
- <h2>
- By Mary Gaunt
- </h2>
- <h3>
- Author Of “Alone In West Africa” “A Woman In China,” Etc.
- </h3>
- <h4>
- London
- </h4>
- <h4>
- T. Werner Laurie Ltd.
- </h4>
- <h3>
- 1919
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0008.jpg" alt="0008 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0008.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <h3>
- TO MY
- </h3>
- <h3>
- SISTER AND BROTHERS
- </h3>
- <h3>
- IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE DAYS BEFORE WE
- </h3>
- <h3>
- WANDERED
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- <b>CONTENTS</b>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_FORE"> FOREWORD </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> A BROKEN JOURNEY </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—TRUCULENT T'AI YUAN FU </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—THE FIRST SIGN OF UNREST </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—A CITY UNDER THE HILLS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—“MISERERE DOMINE!” </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—BY MOUNTAIN AND RIVER </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—CHINA'S SORROW </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—LAST DAYS IN CHINA </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—KHARBIN AND VLADIVOSTOK </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREAT RIVERS
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—THE ENDS OF THE EARTH </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—FACING WEST </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—THE UPPER REACHES OF THE AMUR
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—MOBILISING IN EASTERN SIBERIA
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV—ON A RUSSIAN MILITARY TRAIN </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI—THE WAYS OF THE FINNS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII—CAPTURED BY GERMANS </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_FORE" id="link2H_FORE"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- FOREWORD
- </h2>
- <p>
- I have to thank my friend Mrs Lang for the drastic criticism which once
- more has materially helped me to write this book. Other people also have I
- to thank, but so great was the kindness I received everywhere I can only
- hope each one will see in this book some token of my sincere gratitude.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mary Gaunt.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mary Haven, New Eltham, Kent.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- A BROKEN JOURNEY
- </h1>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>ach time I begin a
- book of travel I search for the reasons that sent me awandering.
- Foolishness, for I ought to know by this time the wander fever was born in
- my blood; it is in the blood of my sister and brothers. We were brought up
- in an inland town in Victoria, Australia, and the years have seen us
- roaming all over the world. I do not think any of us has been nearer the
- North Pole than Petropaulovski, or to the South Pole than Cape Horn—children
- of a sub-tropical clime, we do not like the cold—but in many
- countries in between have we wandered. The sailors by virtue of their
- profession have had the greater opportunities, but the other five have
- made a very good second best of it, and always there has been among us a
- very understanding sympathy 'with the desire that is planted in each and
- all to visit the remote corners of the earth.
- </p>
- <p>
- Anybody can go on the beaten track. It only requires money to take a
- railway or steamer ticket, and though we by no means despise comfort—indeed,
- because we know something of the difficulties that beset the traveller
- beyond the bounds of civilisation, we appreciate it the more highly—still
- there is something else beyond comfort in life. Wherein lies the call of
- the Unknown? To have done something that no one else has done—or
- only accomplished with difficulty? Where lies the charm? I cannot put it
- into words—only it is there, the “something calling—beyond the
- mountains,” the “Come and find me” of Kipling. That voice every one of the
- Gaunts hears, and we all sympathise when another one goes.
- </p>
- <p>
- And that voice I heard loudly in China.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come and find me! Come and find me!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The livelong day I heard it, and again and again and yet again I tried to
- stifle it, for you who have read my <i>Woman in China</i> will know that
- travelling there leaves much to be desired. To say it is uncomfortable is
- to put it in the mildest terms. Everything that I particularly dislike in
- life have I met travelling in China; everything that repells me; and yet,
- having unwisely invested $10 (about £1) in an atlas of China, the voice
- began to ring in my ears day and night.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was living in an American Presbyterian mission station in the western
- suburb of the walled town of Pao Ting Fu, just beyond European influence,
- the influence of the Treaty Ports and the Legation quarter of Peking. I
- wanted to see something of the real China, to get material for a novel—not
- a novel concerning the Chinese; for I have observed that no successful
- novel in English deals with anybody but the British or the Americans; the
- other peoples come in as subordinates—and the local colour was best
- got on the spot. There was plenty in Pao Ting Fu, goodness knows. It had
- suffered severely in the Boxer trouble. In the northern suburb, just about
- a mile from where we lived, was a tomb, or monument rather, that had been
- raised to the missionaries massacred then. They have made a garden plot
- where those burning houses stood, they have planted trees and flowers, and
- set up memorial tablets in the Chinese style, and the mission has moved to
- the western suburb, just under the frowning walls of the town, and—is
- doubly strong. A God-given fervour, say the missionaries, sends them
- forth.'Who am I to judge? But I see that same desire to go forth in
- myself, that same disregard of danger, when it is not immediate—I
- know I should be horribly scared if it materialised—and I cannot
- claim for myself it is God-given, save perhaps that all our desires are
- God-given.
- </p>
- <p>
- So there in the comfortable mission station I studied the local colour,
- corrected my last book of China, and instead of planning the novel, looked
- daily at the atlas of China, till there grew up in me a desire to cross
- Asia, not by train to the north as I had already done, as thousands of
- people used to do every year, but by the caravan route, across Shensi and
- Kansu and Sinkiang to Andijan in Asiatic Russia, the terminus of the
- Caspian Railway. Thousands and thousands of people go slowly along that
- way too, but the majority do not go all the way, and they do not belong to
- the class or nation whose comings and goings are recorded. In fact, you
- may count on the fingers of one hand the people who know anything of that
- road. The missionaries, particularly the womenkind, did not take very
- cheerful view's about it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If I wanted to die,” said one woman, meeting me as I was going round the
- compound one day in the early spring of 1914, “I would choose some easier
- way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the doctor there was keenly interested. He would have liked to have
- gone himself, but his duty kept him alongside his patients and his
- hospital in Pao Ting Fu, and though he pulled himself up every now and
- then, remembering I was only a woman and probably couldn't do it, he could
- not but take as great an interest in that map and ways and means as I did
- myself. Then there was Mr Long, a professor at the big Chinese college in
- the northern suburb—he was young and enthusiastic and as interested
- as Dr Lewis.
- </p>
- <p>
- He too knew something about travel in unknown China, for he had been one
- of the band of white men who had made their way over the mountains of
- Shansi and Shensi in the depths of winter to go to the rescue of the
- missionaries in Sui Te Chou and all the little towns down to Hsi An Fu at
- the time of the Revolution. Yes, he knew something of the difficulties of
- Chinese travel, and he thought I could do it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The only danger would be robbers, and—well, you know, there
- mightn't be robbers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Peking—the Peking of the Legations—that, I knew, held
- different view's. I wrote to an influential man who had been in China over
- ten years, who spoke the language well, and he was against it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was very much interested” (wrote he) “to read of your intention to do
- that trek across country. You ask my opinion about it, but I can only give
- you the same advice that <i>Punch</i> gave many years ago, and that is, <i>don't</i>.
- You must realise that the travelling will be absolutely awful and the cost
- is very great indeed. You have not yet forgotten your trip to Jehol, I
- hope, and the roughness of the road. The trip you contemplate will make
- the little journey to Jehol look like a Sunday morning walk in Hyde Park,
- particularly as regards travelling comfort, to say nothing about the
- danger of the journey as regards hostile tribes on the southern and
- western borders of Tibet. You will be passing near the Lolo country, and I
- can assure you that the Lolos are <i>not</i> a set of gentlemen within the
- meaning of the Act. They are distinctly hostile to foreigners, and many
- murders have taken place in their country that have not been published
- because of the inability of the Chinese troops to stand up against these
- people. What the peoples are like farther north I do not know, but I
- understand the Tibetans are not particularly trustworthy, and it will
- follow that the people living on their borders will inherit a good many of
- their vices and few of their virtues.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you have really made up your mind to go, however, just let me know,
- and I will endeavour to hunt up all the information that it is possible to
- collect as to the best route to take, etc., though I repeat I would not
- advise the journey, and the Geographical Society can go to the deuce.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This not because he despised the Geographical Society by any means, but
- because I had advanced as one reason for going across Asia the desire to
- win my spurs so and be an acceptable member.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear,” wrote a woman, “think of that poor young Brooke. The Tibetans
- cut his throat with a sharp stone, which is a pleasant little way they
- have.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Now the man's opinion was worth having, but the woman's is a specimen of
- the loose way people are apt to reason—I do it myself—when
- they deal with the unknown. The “poor young Brooke” never went near Tibet,
- and was murdered about a thousand miles distant from the route I intended
- to take. It was something as if a traveller bound to the Hebrides was
- warned against dangers to be met upon the Rhone.
- </p>
- <p>
- One man who had travelled extensively in Mongolia was strongly against the
- journey, but declared that “Purdom knew a great deal more about travelling
- in China” than he did, and if “Purdom” said I might got—well then, I
- might. Mr Purdom and Mr Reginald Farrer were going west to the borders of
- Tibet botanising, and one night I dined with them, and Mr Purdom was
- optimistic and declared if I was prepared for discomfort and perhaps
- hardship he thought I might go.
- </p>
- <p>
- So it was decided, and thereupon those who knew took me in hand and gave
- me all advice about travelling in China, how to minimise discomfort, what
- to take and what to leave behind. One thing they were all agreed upon. The
- Chinese, as a rule, are the most peaceable people upon earth, the only
- thing I had to fear was a chance band of robbers, and if I fell into their
- hands—well, it would probably be finish.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Chinese are fiendishly cruel,” said my friend of Mongolian travel;
- “keep your last cartridge for yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I intimated that a pistol was quite beyond me, that that way of going out
- did not appeal to me, and anyhow I'd be sure to bungle it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then have something made up at the chemist's and keep it always on your
- person. You do not know how desperately you may need it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I may say here that these remarks made no impression upon me whatever. I
- suppose in most of us the feeling is strong that nothing bad could
- possibly happen. It happens to other people, we know, but to us—impossible!
- I have often wondered how near I could get to danger without feeling that
- it really threatened—pretty close, I suspect. It is probably a
- matter of experience. I cannot cross a London road with equanimity—but
- then twice have I been knocked down and rather badly hurt—but I
- gaily essayed to cross Asia by way of China, and would quite certainly as
- gaily try again did I get the chance. Only next time I propose to take a
- good cook.
- </p>
- <p>
- To some, of course, the unknown is always full of danger.
- </p>
- <p>
- The folks who walked about Peking without a qualm warned me I would die of
- indigestion, I would be unable to drink the water, the filth would be
- unspeakable, hydrophobia raged, and “when you are bitten, promptly cut
- deep into the place and insert a chloride of mercury tabloid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That last warning made me laugh. It reminded me of the time when as a
- little girl, living in a country where deadly snakes swarmed—my
- eldest brother killed sixty in a week, I remember, in our garden—I
- used to think it would be extremely dangerous to go to Europe because
- there were there mad dogs, things we never had in Australia! I think it
- was the reference to hydrophobia and the chloride of mercury tabloid
- helped me to put things in their proper prospective and made me realise
- that I was setting out on a difficult journey with a possible danger of
- robbers; but a possible danger is the thing we risk every day we travel in
- a railway train or on an electric tramcar. I am always ready for possible
- risks, it is when they become probable I bar them, so I set about my
- preparations with a quiet mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- A servant. I decided I must have a tall servant and strong, because so
- often in China I found I had to be lifted, and I had suffered from having
- too small a man on my former journeys. The missionaries provided me with a
- new convert of theirs, a tall strapping Northern Chinaman, who was a mason
- by trade. Tsai Chih Fu, we called him—that is to say, he came of the
- Tsai family; and the Chih Fu—I'm by no means sure that I spell it
- right—meant a “master workman.” He belonged to a large firm of
- masons, but as he had never made a dollar a day at his trade, my offer of
- that sum put him at my service, ready to go out into the unknown. He was a
- fine-looking man, dignified and courteous, and I had and have the greatest
- respect for him. He could not read or write, of course. Now a man who
- cannot read or write here in the West we look upon with contempt, but it
- would be impossible to look upon Tsai Chih Fu with contempt. He was a
- responsible person, a man who would count in any company. He belonged to
- another era and another civilisation, but he was a man of weight. A master
- of transport in Babylon probably closely resembled my servant Tsai Chih
- Fu.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0027.jpg" alt="0027 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0027.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- My interpreter, Wang Hsien—that is, Mr Wang—was of quite a
- different order. He was little and slight, with long artistic hands, of
- the incapable artistic order, and he was a fool in any language; but good
- interpreters are exceedingly difficult to get. He used to come and see me
- every day for a fortnight before we started, and I must say my heart sank
- when the simplest remark, probably a greeting, or a statement as to the
- weather, was met with a “Repeat, please.” I found this was the invariable
- formula and it was not conducive to brisk conversation. On my way through
- the country things were apt to vanish before I had made Mr Wang understand
- that I was asking, and was really in search of, information. He had his
- black hair cut short in the progressive foreign fashion (it looked as if
- he had had a basin put on his head—a good large one—and the
- hair snipped off round), and he wore a long blue cotton gown buttoned to
- his feet. Always he spoke with a silly giggle. Could I have chosen, which
- I could not, he would have been about the very last man I should have
- taken on a strenuous journey as guide, philosopher and friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- And there was another member of the party, a most important member,
- without whom I should not have dreamt of stirring—my little black
- and white k'ang dog, James Buehanan, who loved me as no one in the world
- has ever loved me, thought everything I did was perfect, and declared he
- was willing to go with me to the ends of the earth.
- </p>
- <p>
- So I began my preparations. One thing only was clear, everyone was agreed
- upon it, all my goods must be packed in canvas bags, because it is
- impossible to travel by mule, or cart, or litter with one's clothes in
- ordinary boxes. And I had, through the kindness of Messrs Forbes &
- Company, to make arrangements with Chinese bankers, who have probably been
- making the same arrangements since before the dawn of history, to get
- money along the proposed route. These things I managed satisfactorily; it
- was over the stores that, as usual, I made mistakes. The fact of the
- matter is that the experience gained in one country is not always useful
- for the next. When first I travelled in Africa I took many “chop” boxes
- that were weighty and expensive of transport, and contained much tinned
- meat that in a warm, moist climate I did not want. I found I could live
- quite happily on biscuits and fruit and eggs, with such relishes as
- anchovy paste or a few Bologna sausages for a change. My expensive tinned
- foods I bestowed upon my servants and carriers, greatly to my own regret.
- I went travelling in China, in Northern Chihli and Inner Mongolia, I dwelt
- apart from all foreigners in a temple in the western hills, and I found
- with a good cook I lived very comfortably off the country, with just the
- addition of a few biscuits, tea, condensed milk, coffee and raisins,
- therefore I persuaded myself I could go west with few stores and do
- exactly the same. Thus I added considerably to my own discomfort. The
- excellent master of transport was a bad cook, and a simple diet of
- hard-boiled eggs, puffed rice and tea, with raisins for dessert, however
- good in itself, is apt to pall when it is served up three times a day for
- weeks with unfailing regularity.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, I didn't know that at the time.
- </p>
- <p>
- And at last all was ready. I had written to all the mission stations as
- far west as Tihwa, in Sinkiang, announcing my coming. I had provided
- myself with a folding table and chair—they both, I found, were given
- to fold at inconvenient moments—some enamel plates, a couple of
- glasses, a knife and fork, rudimentary kitchen utensils, bedding,
- cushions, rugs, etc., and all was ready. I was to start the next week, ten
- days after Mr Purdom and Mr Farrer had set out, for Honan, when there came
- a telegram from Hsi An Fu:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Delay journey” (it read).
- </p>
- <p>
- “White wolf in Shensi. Shorrocks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Was there ever such country? News that a robber was holding up the road
- could be sent by telegram!
- </p>
- <p>
- China rather specialises in robbers, but White Wolf was considerably worse
- than the average gentleman of the road. He defied the Government in 1914,
- but the last time we of the mission station had heard of him he was making
- things pleasant for the peaceful inhabitants of Anhwei, to the east, and
- the troops were said to have him “well in hand.” But in China you never
- know exactly where you are, and now he was in Shensi!
- </p>
- <p>
- I read that telegram in the pleasant March sunshine. I looked up at the
- boughs of the “water chestnuts,” where the buds were beginning to swell,
- and I wondered what on earth I should do. The roads now were as good as
- they were ever likely to be, hard after the long winter and not yet broken
- up by the summer rains. We discussed the matter from all points that day
- at the midday dinner. The missionaries had a splendid cook, a Chinese who
- had had his kitchen education finished in a French family, and with a few
- good American recipes thrown in the combination makes a craftsman fit for
- the Savoy, and all for ten Mexican dollars a month! Never again do I
- expect to meet such salads, sweet and savoury! And here was I doing my
- best to leave the flesh-pots of Egypt. It seemed foolish.
- </p>
- <p>
- I contented my soul with what patience I might for a week, and then I
- telegraphed to Honan Fu, at which place I expected to be well away from
- the railway. Honan Fu answered promptly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “The case is hopeless. Hsi An Fu threatened. Advise you go by T'ai Yuan
- Fu.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Now the road from Honan Fu to Hsi An Fu is always dangerous. It is through
- the loess, sunken many feet below the level of the surrounding country,
- and at the best of times is infested with stray robbers who, from the
- cliffs above, roll down missiles on the carts beneath, kill the mules and
- hold the travellers at their mercy. The carters go in large bodies and are
- always careful to find themselves safe in the inn-yards before the dusk
- has fallen.
- </p>
- <p>
- These were the everyday dangers of the way such as men have faced for
- thousands of years; if you add to them an organised robber band and a
- large body of soldiers in pursuit, clearly that road is no place for a
- solitary foreign woman, with only a couple of attendants, a little dog,
- and for all arms a small pistol and exactly thirteen cartridges—all
- I could get, for it is difficult to buy ammunition in China. Then to
- clinch matters came another telegram from Hsi An Fu, in cipher this time:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do not come” (it said).
- </p>
- <p>
- “The country is very much disturbed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- From Anhwei to Shensi the brigands had operated. They had burned and
- looted and outraged by order of Pai Lang (White Wolf), leaving behind them
- ruined homes and desolated hearths, and when the soldiers came after them,
- so said Rumour of the many tongues, White Wolf, who was rich by then, left
- money on the roads and so bribed the avenging army to come over to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- But to the ordinary peaceful inhabitant—and curiously enough the
- ordinary Chinese is extremely peaceful—it is not a matter of much
- moment whether it be Pai Lang or the soldier who is hunting him who falls
- upon the country. The inhabitants are sure to suffer. Both bandit and
- soldier must have food, so both loot and outrage impartially, for the
- unpaid soldiery—I hope I shall not be sued for libel, but most of
- the soldiery when I was in China appeared to be unpaid—loot just as
- readily as do the professional bandits. A robber band alone is a heavy
- load for a community to carry, and a robber band pursued by soldiers more
- than doubles the burden.
- </p>
- <p>
- Still the soldiers held Tungkwan, the gate into Shensi, the mountains on
- either side blocked the way, and Hsi An Fu breathed for a moment till it
- was discovered that Pai Lang in strategy was equal to anyone who had been
- sent against him. He had taken the old and difficult route through the
- mountains and had come out west of the narrow pass of Tungkwan and, when I
- became interested in him, was within a day's march of Hsi An Fu, the town
- that is the capital of the province of Shensi and was the capital of China
- many hundreds of years ago. It is a walled city, but the people feared and
- so did the members of the English Baptist Mission sheltering behind those
- walls. And, naturally, they feared, for the Society of the Elder Brethren
- had joined Pai Lang, and the Society of Elder Brethren always has been and
- is markedly anti-foreign. This was the situation, growing daily a little
- worse, and we foreigners looked on; and the Government organs in Peking
- told one day how a certain Tao Tai had been punished and degraded because
- he had been slack in putting down White Wolf and possibly the next day
- declared the power of White Wolf was broken and he was in full retreat. I
- don't know how many times I read the power of White Wolf had been broken
- and yet in the end I was regretfully obliged to acknowledge that he was
- stronger than ever. Certainly Pai Lang turned my face north sooner than I
- intended, for the idea of being a target for rocks and stones and billets
- of wood at the bottom of a deep ditch from which there could be no escape
- did not commend itself to me. True, in loess country, as I afterwards
- found, there are no stones, no rocks and no wood. I can't speak for the
- road through Tungkwan, for I didn't dare it. But, even if there were no
- stones, loose earth—and there is an unlimited quantity of that
- commodity in Northern China—flung down from a height would be
- exceedingly unpleasant.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course it all might have been rumour—it wasn't, I found out
- afterwards; but unfortunately the only way to find out at the time was by
- going to see for myself, and if it had been true—well, in all
- probability I shouldn't have come back. That missionary evidently realised
- how keen I was when he suggested that I should go by T'ai Yuan Fu, the
- capital of Shansi, and I determined to take his advice. There was a way, a
- little-known way, across the mountains, across Shansi, by Sui Te Chou in
- Shensi, and thence into Kansu, which would eventually land me in Lan Chou
- Fu if I cared to risk it.
- </p>
- <p>
- This time I asked Mr Long's advice. He and the little band of nine
- rescuers who had ridden hot haste to the aid of the Shensi missionaries
- during the revolution had taken this road, and they had gone in the depths
- of winter when the country was frozen hard and the thermometer was more
- often below zero, very far below zero, than not. If they had accomplished
- it when pressed for time in the great cold, I thought' in all probability
- I might manage it now at the best time of the year and at my leisure. Mr
- Long, who would have liked to have gone himself, thought so too, and
- eventually I set off.
- </p>
- <p>
- The missionaries were goodness itself to me. Dr Mackay, in charge of the
- Women's Hospital, set me up with all sorts of simple drugs that I might
- require and that I could manage, and one day in the springtime, when the
- buds on the trees in the compound were just about to burst, and full of
- the promise of the life that was coming, I, with most of the missionaries
- to wish me “Godspeed,” and with James Buchanan under my arm, my giggling
- interpreter and my master of transport following with my gear, took train
- to T'ai Yuan Fu, a walled city that is set in the heart of a fertile
- plateau surrounded by mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- The great adventure had begun.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—TRUCULENT T'AI YUAN FU
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ut you mayn't go
- to T'ai Yuan Fu in one day. The southern train puts you down at Shih Chia
- Chuang—the village of the Stone Family—and there you must stay
- till 7.40 a.m. next morning, when the French railway built through the
- mountains that divide Shansi from Shensi takes you on to its terminus at
- T'ai Yuan Fu. There is a little Chinese inn at Shih Chia Chuang that by
- this time has become accustomed to catering for the foreigner, but those
- who are wise beg the hospitality of the British American Tobacco Company.
- </p>
- <p>
- I craved that hospitality, and two kindly young men came to the station
- through a dust-storm to meet me and took me off to their house that,
- whether it was intended to or not, with great cool stone balconies, looked
- like a fort. But they lived on perfectly friendly terms with people. Why
- not? To a great number of the missionaries the B.A.T. is <i>anathema
- maranatha</i>, though many of the members rival in pluck and endurance the
- missionaries themselves. And why is it a crime for a man or a woman to
- smoke? Many of the new teachers make it so and thus lay an added burden on
- shoulders already heavily weighted. Personally I should encourage smoking,
- because it is the one thing people who are far apart as the Poles might
- have in common.
- </p>
- <p>
- And goodness knows they have so few things. Even with the animals the
- “East is East and West is West” feeling is most marked. Here at the B.A.T.
- they had a small pekinese as a pet. She made a friend of James Buchanan in
- a high and haughty manner, but she declined to accompany him outside the
- premises. Once she had been stolen and had spent over three months in a
- Chinese house. Then one day her master saw her and, making good his claim,
- took her home with him. Since that time nothing would induce her to go
- beyond the front door. She said in effect that she got all the exercise
- she needed in the courtyard, and if it did spoil her figure, she preferred
- a little weight to risking the tender mercies of a Chinese household, and
- I'm sure she told Buchanan, who, having the sacred V-shaped mark on his
- forehead, was reckoned very beautiful and was much admired by the Chinese,
- that he had better take care and not fall into alien hands. Buchanan as a
- puppy of two months old had been bought in the streets of Peking, and when
- we started on our journey must have been nearly ten months old, but he had
- entirely forgotten his origin and regarded all Chinese with suspicion. He
- tolerated the master of transport as a follower of whom we had need.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Small dog,” Mr Wang called him, and looked upon him doubtfully, but
- really not as doubtfully as Buchanan looked at him. He was a peaceful,
- friendly little dog, but I always thought he did not bite Mr Wang simply
- because he despised him so.
- </p>
- <p>
- Those two young men were more than good to me. They gave me refreshment,
- plenty of hot water to wash away the ravages of the dust-storm, and good
- company, and as we sat and talked—of White Wolf, of course—there
- came to us the tragedy of a life, a woman who had not the instincts of
- Buchanan.
- </p>
- <p>
- Foreign women are scarce at Shih Chia Chuang; one a month is something to
- remark upon, one a week is a crowd, so that when, as we sat in the big
- sitting-room talking, the door opened and a foreign woman stood there,
- everyone rose to his feet in astonishment. Mr Long, who had been up the
- line, stood beside her, and behind her was a Chinaman with a half-caste
- baby in his arms. She was young and tall and rather pretty.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0037.jpg" alt="0037 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0037.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0038.jpg" alt="0038 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0038.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “I bring you a lady in distress,” said Mr Long rather hastily, explaining
- matters. “I met Mrs Chang on the train. She has miscalculated her
- resources and has not left herself enough money to get to Peking.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The woman began to explain; but it is an awkward thing to explain to
- strangers that you have no money and are without any credentials. I
- hesitated. Eventually I hope I should have helped her, but my charity and
- kindliness were by no means as ready and spontaneous as those of my
- gallant young host. He never hesitated a moment. You would have thought
- that women and babies without any money were his everyday business.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, sure,” said he in his pleasant American voice, “if I can be of any
- assistance. But you can't go to-day, Mrs Chang; of course you will stay
- with us—oh yes, yes; indeed we should be very much hurt if you
- didn't; and you will let me lend you some money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so she was established among us, this woman who had committed the
- unpardonable sin of the East, the sin against her race, the sin for which
- there is no atoning. It is extraordinary after all these years, after all
- that has been said and written, that Englishwomen, women of good class and
- standing, will so outrage all the laws of decency and good taste. This
- woman talked. She did not like the Chinese, she would not associate with
- them; her husband, of course, was different. He was good to her; but it
- was hard to get work in these troubled times, harder still to get paid for
- it, and he had gone away in search of it, so she was going for a holiday
- to Peking and—here she tumed|to the young men and talked about the
- society and the dances and the amusement she expected to have among the
- foreigners in the capital, she who for so long had been cut off from such
- joys in the heart of China among an alien people.
- </p>
- <p>
- We listened. What could we say?
- </p>
- <p>
- “People in England don't really understand,” said she, “what being in
- exile means. They don't understand the craving to go home and speak to
- one's own people; but being in Peking will be something like being in
- England.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We other five never even looked at each other, because we knew, and we
- could hardly believe, that she had not yet realised that in marrying a
- Chinese, even one who had been brought up in England, she had exiled
- herself effectually. The Chinese look down upon her, they will have none
- of her, and among the foreigners she is outcast. These young men who had
- come to her rescue with such right good will—“I could not see a
- foreign woman in distress among Chinese”—will pass her in the street
- with a bow, will not see her if they can help themselves, will certainly
- object that anyone they care about should see them talking to her, and
- their attitude but reflects that of the majority of the foreigners in
- China. Her little child may not go to the same sehool as the foreign
- children, even as it may not go to the same school as the Chinese. She has
- committed the one error that outclasses her, and she is going to pay for
- it in bitterness all the days of her life. And everyone in that room,
- while we pitied her, held, and held strongly, that the attitude of the
- community, foreign and Chinese, was one to be upheld.
- </p>
- <p>
- “East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet,” and yet
- here and there one still comes across a foolish woman who wrecks her life
- because she never seems to have heard of this dictum. She talked and
- talked, and told us how good was her husband to her, and we listeners said
- afterwards she “doth protest too much,” she was convincing herself, not
- us, and that, of course, seeing he was a Chinaman, he was disappointed
- that the baby was a girl, and that his going off alone was the beginning
- of the end, and we were thankful that she was “the only girl her mother
- had got,” and so she could go back to her when the inevitable happened.
- </p>
- <p>
- The pity of it! When will the stay-at-home English learn that the very
- worst thing one of their women can do with her life is to wed an Oriental?
- But when I think of that misguided woman in that remote Chinese village I
- shall always think too of those gallant young gentlemen, perfect in
- courteous kindliness, who ran the B.A.T. in Shih Chia Chuang.
- </p>
- <p>
- The next day Buchanan and I and our following boarded the luxurious little
- mountain railway and went to T'ai Yuan Fu.
- </p>
- <p>
- This railway, to me, who know nothing of such things, is a very marvel of
- engineering skill. There are great rugged mountains, steep and rocky, and
- the train winds its way through them, clinging along the sides of
- precipices, running through dark tunnels and cuttings that tower high
- overhead and going round such curves that the engine and the guard's van
- of a long train are going in exactly opposite directions. A wonderful
- railway, and doubly was I interested in it because before ever I came to
- China I had heard about it.
- </p>
- <p>
- When there are disturbances in China it is always well for the foreign
- element to flee while there is yet time, for the sanctity of human life is
- not yet thoroughly grasped there, and there is always the chance that the
- foreigner may be killed first and his harmlessness, or even his value,
- discovered later. So in the revolution in the winter of 1910-1911, though
- all train traffic had stopped, the missionaries from T'ai Yuan Fu and
- those from the country beyond fled down this railway. A friend of mine, an
- artist, happened to be staying at a mission station in the mountains and
- made one of the party. It was the depth of a Shansi winter, a Continental
- winter, with the thermometer generally below -15° at the warmest part of
- the day, and the little band of fugitives came fleeing down this line on
- trollies worked by the men of the party. They stayed the nights at the
- deserted railway stations, whence all the officials had fled, and the
- country people in their faded blue cotton wadded coats came and looked at
- them and, pointing their fingers at them exactly as I have seen the folks
- in the streets of London do at a Chinaman or an Arab in an outlandish
- dress, remarked that these people were going to their death.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Death! Death!” sounded on all sides. They, the country people, were
- peaceful souls; they would not have killed them themselves; they merely
- looked upon them as an interesting exhibit because they were foreign and
- they were going to die. That the audience were wrong the people on show
- were not quite as sure as they would have liked to be, and a single-line
- railway through mountainous country is by no means easy to negotiate on a
- trolly. They came to places where the line was carried upon trestles; they
- could see a river winding its way at the bottom of a rocky ravine far
- below them, and the question would be how to get across. It required more
- nerve than most of them had to walk across the skeleton bridge. The
- procedure seems to have been to give each trolly a good hard push, to
- spring upon it and to trust to Providence to get safely across to the firm
- earth upon the other side. The tunnels too, and the sharp curves, were
- hair-raising, for they knew nothing of what was happening at the other end
- of the line, and for all they could say they might have come full butt
- upon a train rushing up in the other direction.
- </p>
- <p>
- Eventually they did get through, but with considerable hardship, and I
- should hesitate to say how many days that little company went without
- taking off their clothes. I thought of them whenever our train went into a
- tunnel, and I thought too of the gay girl who told me the story and who
- had dwelt not upon the discomfort and danger, but upon the excitement and
- exhilaration that comes with danger.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I lived,” said she, “I lived,” and my heart went out to her. It is that
- spirit in this “nation of shopkeepers” that is helping us to beat the
- Germans.
- </p>
- <p>
- The scenery through which we went is beautiful—it would be beautiful
- in any land—and this in China, where I expected not so much beauty
- as industry. There were evidences of industry in plenty on every side.
- These people were brethren of the bandits who turned me north and they are
- surely the most industrious in the world. Wherever among these stony hills
- there was a patch of ground fit for cultivation, though it was tiny as a
- pocket handkerchief, it was cultivated. Everywhere I saw people at work in
- the fields, digging, weeding, ploughing with a dry cow or a dry cow and a
- donkey hitched to the primitive plough, or guiding trains of donkeys or
- mules carrying merchandise along the steep and narrow paths, and more than
- once I saw strings of camels, old-world camels that took me back before
- the days of written history. They kept to the valleys and evidently made
- their way along the river beds.
- </p>
- <p>
- Through mountain sidings and tunnels we came at length to the curious
- loess country, where the friable land is cut into huge terraces that make
- the high hills look like pyramids carved in great clay-coloured steps, and
- now in April the green crops were already springing; another month and
- they would be banks of waving green. The people are poor, their faces were
- browned by the sun and the wind, their garments were scanty and ragged,
- and the original blue was faded till the men and the clothes were all the
- same monotonous clay colour of the surrounding country. The women I saw
- here were few, and only afterwards I found the reason. The miserably poor
- peasant of Shansi binds the feet of his women so effectually that to the
- majority movement is a physical impossibility.
- </p>
- <p>
- We climbed up and up through the mountains into the loess country, and at
- last we were on the plateau, about four thousand feet above the sea-level,
- whereon is T'ai Yuan Fu, the capital of the province. There are other
- towns here too, little walled eities, and the train drew up at the
- stations outside the grey brick walls, the most ancient and the most
- modern, Babylon and Crewe meeting. Oh, I understand the need of those
- walled eities now I have heard so much about Pai Lang. There is a certain
- degree of safety behind those grey walls, so long as the robber bands are
- small and the great iron-bound gates ean keep them out, but dire is the
- fate of the city into which the enemy has penetrated, has fastened the
- gates and holds the people in a trap behind their own walls.
- </p>
- <p>
- But these people were at peace; they were thinking of no robbers. Pai Lang
- was about five hundred miles away and the station platforms were crowded
- with would-be travellers with their belongings in bundles, and over the
- fence that shut off the platform hung a vociferating crowd waving white
- banners on which were inscribed in black characters the signs of the
- various inns, while each banner-bearer at the top of his voice advocated
- the charms of his own employer's establishment. The queue was forbidden
- for the moment, but many of these ragged touts and many of the other
- peasants still wore their heads shaven in front, for the average Chinaman,
- especially he of the poorer classes, is loath to give up the fashions of
- his forefathers.
- </p>
- <p>
- Every railway platform was pandemonium, for every person on that platform
- yelled and shrieked at the top of his voice. On the main line every
- station was guarded by untidy, unkempt-looking soldiers armed with rifles,
- but there on this little mountain railway the only guards were policemen,
- equally unkempt, clad in very dusty black and white and armed with
- stout-looking bludgeons. They stood along the line at regular intervals,
- good-natured-looking men, and I wondered whether they would really be any
- good in an emergency, or whether they would not take the line of least
- resistance and join the attacking force.
- </p>
- <p>
- All across the cultivated plain we went, where not an inch of ground is
- wasted, and at half-past five in the evening we arrived at T'ai Yuan Fu—arrived,
- that is, at the station outside the little South Gate.
- </p>
- <p>
- T'ai Yuan Fu is a great walled city eight miles round, with five gates in
- the walls, gates that contrast strangely with the modern-looking
- macadamised road which goes up from the station. I don't know why I should
- feel that way, for they certainly had paved roads even in the days before
- history. Outside the walls are neat, perhaps forty feet high and of grey
- brick, and inside you see how these city walls are made, for they are the
- unfinished clay banks that have been faced in front, and when I was there
- in the springtime the grass upon them was showing everywhere and the
- shrubs were bursting into leaf. But those banks gave me a curious feeling
- of being behind the scenes.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0047.jpg" alt="0047 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0047.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- I was met at the station by some of the ladies of the English Baptist
- Mission who had come to welcome me and to offer me, a total stranger to
- them, kindly hospitality, and we walked through the gate to the mission
- inside the walls. It was only a short walk, short and dusty, but it was
- thronged. All the roadway was crowded with rickshaws and carts waiting in
- a long line their turn to go underneath the gateway over which frowned a
- typical many-roofed Chinese watch tower, and as cart or rickshaw came up
- the men along with it were stopped by the dusty soldiery in black and grey
- and interrogated as to their business.
- </p>
- <p>
- When I got out on to the platform I had looked up at the ancient walls
- clear-cut against the bright blue sky, and the women meeting me looked
- askance at Tsai Chih Fu, who, a lordly presence, stood behind me, with
- James Buchanan in his arms, a little black satin cap on his head and his
- pigtail hanging down his back.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is some little commotion in the town,” said Miss Franklin. “They
- are cutting off queues.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The master of transport smiled tolerantly when they told him, and, taking
- off his cap, he wound his tightly round his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know,” he said in the attitude of a man of the world, “some people do
- not wear them now. But I have always worn one, and I like it,” and his
- manner said he would like to see the person who would dare dictate to him
- in what manner he should wear his hair. He could certainly have put up a
- good fight.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was not needed. He passed through unchallenged; he was a quietly
- dressed man who did not court notice and his strapping inches were in his
- favour. He might well be passed over when there were so many slighter men
- more easily tackled. One man riding along in a rickshaw I saw put up a
- splendid fight. At last he was hauled out of his carriage and his little
- round cap tossed off his head, and then it was patent his queue could not
- be cut, for he was bald as a billiard ball! The Chinese do understand a
- joke, even a mob. They yelled and howled with laughter, and we heard it
- echoing and re-echoing as we passed under the frowning archway, tramping
- across many a dusty coil of coarse black hair roughly shorn from the heads
- of the luckless adherents to the old fashion. The missionaries said that
- Tsai Chih Fu must be the only man in T'ai Yuan Fu with a pigtail and that
- it would be very useful to us as we went farther west, where they had not
- yet realised the revolution. They doubted if he would be able to keep it
- on so strict was the rule, but he did—a tribute, I take it, to the
- force of my “master of transport.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The ladies lived in a Chinese house close under the walls. There is a
- great charm about these houses built round courtyards in the Chinese
- style; there is always plenty of air and sunshine, though, as most of the
- rooms open into the courtyard only, I admit in rough weather they must
- sometimes be awkward, and when—as is always the case in Shansi in
- winter-time—the courtyard is covered with ice and snow, and the
- thermometer is far below zero for weeks at a time, it is impossible to go
- from bedroom to sitting-room without being well wrapped up. And yet,
- because China is not a damp country, it could never be as awkward as it
- would be in England, and for weeks at a time it is a charming arrangement.
- Staying there in April, I found it delightful. Buchanan and I had a room
- under a great tree just showing the first faint tinge of green, and I
- shall always be grateful for the kindly hospitality those young ladies
- gave me.
- </p>
- <p>
- From there we went out and saw T'ai Yuan Fu, and another kindly missionary
- engaged muleteers for me and made all arrangements for my journey across
- Shansi and Shensi and Kansu to Lan Chou Fu.
- </p>
- <p>
- But T'ai Yuan Fu is not a nice town to stay in.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The town,” said the missionaries, “is progressive and anti-foreign.” It
- is. You feel somehow the difference in the attitude of the people the
- moment you set foot inside the walls. It seems to me that if trouble
- really came it would be an easy matter to seize the railway and cut off
- the foreign missionaries from all help, for it is at least a fortnight
- away in the mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- They suffered cruelly at the Boxer time: forty men, women and little
- helpless children were butchered in cold blood in the yamen, and the
- archway leading to the hospital where Miss Coombs the schoolmistress was
- deliberately burned to death while trying to guard and shelter her
- helpless pupils still stands. In the yamen, with a refinement of torture,
- they cut to pieces the little children first, and then the women, the nuns
- of the Catholic Church the fierce soldiery dishonoured, and finally they
- slew all the men. Against the walls in the street stand two miserable
- stones that the Government were forced to put up to the memory of the
- foreigners thus ruthlessly done to death, but a deeper memorial is
- engraven on the hearts of the people. Some few years later the tree
- underneath which they were slain was blasted by lightning and half
- destroyed, and on that very spot, during the recent revolution, the Tao
- Tai of the province was killed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A judgment!” said the superstitious people. “A judgment!” say even the
- educated.
- </p>
- <p>
- And during the late revolution the white people shared with the
- inhabitants a terribly anxious time. Shut up in the hospital with a raging
- mob outside, they waited for the place to be set on fire. The newest shops
- in the principal streets were being looted, the Manchu city—a little
- walled city within the great city—was destroyed, and though they
- opened the gates and told the Manchus they might escape, the mob hunted
- down the men as they fled and slew them, though, more merciful than Hsi An
- Fu, they let the women and children escape. Men's blood was up, the lust
- of killing was upon them, and the men and women behind the hospital walls
- trembled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We made up our minds,” said a young missionary lady to me, “that if they
- fired the place we would rush out and mingle in the mob waiting to kill
- us. They looked awful. I can't tell you how they looked, but it would have
- been better than being burned like rats in a trap.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A Chinese crowd, to my Western eyes, unkempt, unwashed, always looks
- awful; what it must be like when they are out to kill I cannot imagine.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then she went on: “Do you know, I was not really as much afraid as I
- should have thought I would have been. There was too mueh to think about.”
- Oh, merciful God! I pray that always in such moments there may be “too
- much to think about.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The mob looted the city. They ruined the university. They destroyed the
- Manehus. But they spared the foreigners; and still there flourishes in the
- town a mission of the English Baptists and another of the Catholics, but
- when I was there the town had not yet settled down. There was unrest, and
- the missionaries kept their eyes anxiously on the south, on the movements
- of Pai Lang. We thought about him at Pao Ting Fu, but here the danger was
- just a little nearer, help just a little farther away. Besides, the people
- were different. They were not quite so subservient, not quite so friendly
- to the foreigner, it would take less to light the tinder.
- </p>
- <p>
- For myself, I was glad of the instinct that had impelled me to engage as
- servant a man of inches. I dared never walk in the streets alone as I had
- been accustomed to in Pao Ting Fu. It marks in my mind the jumping-off
- place. Here I left altogether the civilisation of the West and tasted the
- age-old civilisation of the East, the civilisation that was in full swing
- when my ancestors were naked savages hunting the deer and the bear and the
- wolf in the swamps and marshes of Northern Europe. I had thought I had
- reached that civilisation when I lived in Peking, when I dwelt alone in a
- temple in the mountains, when I went to Pao Ting Fu, but here in T'ai Yuan
- Fu the feeling deepened. Only the mission stations stood between me and
- this strange thing. The people in the streets looked at me askance, over
- the compound wall came the curious sounds of an ancient people at work,
- the shrieking of the greased wheel-barrows, the beating of gongs, the whir
- of the rattle of the embroidery silk seller, the tinkling of the bells
- that were hung round the necks of the donkeys and the mules, the shouting
- of the hucksters selling scones and meat balls, all the sounds of an
- industrious city, and I was an outsider, the alien who was something of a
- curiosity, but who anyhow was of no account. Frankly, I don't like being
- of no account. As a matter of fact, I shocked all Chinese ideas of correct
- deportment. When a well-bred Chinese gentleman arrives at a strange place,
- he does not look around him, he shows no curiosity whatever in his
- surroundings, he retires to his room, his meal is brought to him and he
- remains quietly in his resting-place till it is time for him to take his
- departure, and what applies to a man, applies, of course, in an
- exaggerated degree, to a woman. Now I had come to see China, and I made
- every effort in my power to see all I could. I tremble to think what the
- inhabitants of Shansi must have thought of me! Possibly, since I outraged
- all their canons of decency, I was lucky in that they only found me of no
- account.
- </p>
- <p>
- All the while I was in T'ai Yuan Fu I was exceedingly anxious about the
- measure of safety for a foreign woman outside the walls, and opinions
- differed as to the wisdom of my venture, but, on the whole, those I
- consulted thought I would be all right. They rather envied me, in fact,
- the power to go wandering, but on one point they were very sure: it was a
- pity Dr Edwards, the veteran missionary doctor, was not there, because he
- knew more about China and travelling there than all the rest of them put
- together. But he had gone out on his own account and was on the way to Hsi
- An Fu, the town I had given up as hopeless. He did not propose to approach
- it through the Tungkwan, but from the north, and they did not expect him
- to have any difficulty.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then I found I had not brought enough money with me and the missionaries
- lent me more, and they engaged muleteers with four mules and a donkey that
- were to take me across the thousand miles that lay between the capital of
- Shansi and that of Kansu. Two men were in charge, and the cost of getting
- there, everything included—the men to feed themselves and their
- animals and I only to be responsible for the feeding and lodging of my own
- servants—was exactly eighteen pounds. It has always seemed to me
- ridiculously cheap. Money must go a long way in China for it to be
- possible for two men to take four mules and a donkey laden a thousand
- miles, and then come back unladen and keep themselves by the way, for so
- small a sum.
- </p>
- <p>
- So I sent off my servants the day before, then Buchanan and I bade
- good-bye to the missionaries and went the first day's journey back along
- the line to Yu Tze, where the road started for the Yellow River, and as I
- left the train and was taken by Tsai Chih Fu and Mr Wang to the enclosure
- of the inn where they had spent the night I felt that I had indeed left
- the West behind, and the only companion and friend I had was James
- Buchanan. It was lucky he was a host in himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—THE FIRST SIGN OF UNREST
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> was to ride a
- pack-mule. Now riding a pack-mule at any time is an unpleasant way of
- getting along the road. I know no more uncomfortable method. It is not
- quite as comfortable as sitting upon a table with one's legs dangling, for
- the table is still, the mule is moving, and one's legs dangle on either
- side of his neck. There are neither reins nor stirrups, and the mule goes
- at his own sweet will, and in a very short time your back begins to ache,
- after a few hours that aching is intolerable. To get over this difficulty
- the missionary had cut the legs off a chair and suggested that, mounted on
- the pack, I might sit in it comfortably. I don't know whether I could, for
- the mule objected.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a sunny morning with a bright blue sky above, and all seemed
- auspicious except my mule, who expressed in no measured language his
- dislike to that chair. Tsai Chih Fu had no sooner hoisted me into it than
- up he went on his hind legs and, using them as a pivot, stood on end
- pawing the air. Everybody in the inn-yard shrieked and yelled except, I
- hope, myself, and then Tsai Chih Fu, how I know not, rescued me from my
- unpleasant position, and thankfully I found myself upon the firm ground
- again. He was a true Chinese mule and objected to all innovations. He
- stood meekly enough once the chair was removed.
- </p>
- <p>
- I wanted to cross Asia and here I was faced with disaster at the very
- outset! Finally I was put upon the pack minus the chair, Buchanan was
- handed up to me and nestled down beside me, and the procession started. My
- heart sank. I don't mind acknowledging it now. I had at least a thousand
- miles to go, and within half-an-hour of the start I had thoroughly grasped
- the faet that of all modes of progression a pack-mule is the most
- abominable. There are no words at my command to express its discomforts.
- </p>
- <p>
- Very little did I see of the landscape of Shansi that day. I was engaged
- in hanging on to my pack and wondering how I could stick it out. We passed
- along the usual hopeless cart-track of China. I had eschewed Peking carts
- as being the very acme of misery, but I was beginning to reflect that
- anyhow a cart was comparatively passive misery while the back of a
- pack-mule was decidedly active. Buchanan was a good little dog, but he
- mentioned several times in the course of that day that he was
- uncomfortable and he thought I was doing a fool thing. I was much of his
- opinion.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0057.jpg" alt="0057 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0057.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0058.jpg" alt="0058 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0058.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- The day was never ending. All across a plain we went, with rough fields
- just showing green on either hand, through walled villages, through little
- towns, and I cared for nothing, I was too intent on holding on, on wishing
- the day would end, and at last, as the dusk was falling, the muleteer
- pointed out, clear-cut against the evening sky, the long wralls of a large
- town—Taiku. At last! At last!
- </p>
- <p>
- I was to stay the night at a large mission school kept by a Mr and Mrs
- Wolf, and I only longed for the comfort of a bed, any sort of a bed so
- long as it was flat and warm and kept still. We went on and on, we got
- into the suburbs of the town, and we appeared to go round and round,
- through an unending length of dark, narrow streets, full of ruts and
- holes, with the dim loom of houses on either side, and an occasional gleam
- of light from a dingy kerosene lamp or Chinese paper lantern showing
- through the paper windows.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again and again we stopped and spoke to men who were merely muffled
- shapeless figures in the darkness, and again we went on. I think now that
- in all probability neither Tsai Chih Fu nor Mr Wang understood enough of
- the dialect to make the muleteers or the people of whom we inquired
- understand where we wanted to go, but at last, more probably by good luck
- than good management, somebody, seeing I was a foreigner, sent us to the
- foreigners they knew, those who kept a school for a hundred and
- twenty-five boys in the lovely Flower Garden. It certainly was lovely, an
- old-world Chinese house, with little courtyards and ponds and terraces and
- flowers and trees—and that comfortable bed I had been desiring so
- long. As we entered the courtyard in the darkness and Tsai Chili Fu lifted
- me down, the bed was the only thing I could think of.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0059.jpg" alt="0059 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0059.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- And yet next day I started again—I wonder now I dared—and we
- skirted the walls of Taiku. We had gone round two sides and then, as I
- always do when I am dead-tired, I had a bad attack of breathlessness. Stay
- on that pack I knew I could not, so I made my master of transport lift me
- down, and I sat on a bank for the edification of all the small boys in the
- district who, even if they had known how ill I felt, probably would not
- have cared, and I deeided there and then that pack-mule riding was simply
- impossible and something would have to be done. Therefore, with great
- difficulty, I made my way baek to the mission school and asked Mr Wolf
- what he would recommend.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again were missionaries kindness itself to me. They sympathised with my
- trouble, they took me in and made me their guest, refusing to take any
- money for it, though they added to their kindness by allowing me to pay
- for the keep of my servants, and they strongly recommended that I should
- have a litter. A litter then I decided I would have.
- </p>
- <p>
- It is, I should think, the very earliest form of human conveyance. It
- consists of two long poles laid about as far apart as the shafts of an
- ordinary cart, in the middle is hung a coarse-meshed rope net, and over
- that a tilt of matting—the sort of stuff we see tea-chests covered
- with in this country. Into the net is tumbled all one's small impedimenta—clothes-bags,
- kettles, anything that will not conveniently go on mule-back; the bedding
- is put on top, rugs and cushions arranged to the future inmate's
- satisfaction, then you get inside and the available people about are
- commandeered to hoist the concern on to the backs of the couple of mules,
- who object very strongly. The head of the one behind is in the shafts, and
- the ends rest in his pack-saddle, and the hind quarters of the one in
- front are in the shafts, just as in an ordinary buggy. Of course there are
- no reins, and at first I felt very much at the mercy of the mules, though
- I am bound to say the big white mule who conducted my affairs seemed to
- thoroughly understand his business. Still it is uncomfortable, to say the
- least of it, to find yourself going, apparently quite unattended, down
- steep and rocky paths, or right into a rushing river. But on the whole a
- litter is a very comfortable way of travelling; after a pack-mule it was
- simply heaven, and I had no doubts whatever that I could comfortably do
- the thousand miles, lessened now, I think, by about thirty, that lay
- before me. If I reached Lan Chou Fu there would be time enough to think
- how I would go on farther. And here my muleteers had me. When I arranged
- for a litter, I paid them, of course, extra, and I said another mule was
- to be got to carry some of the loads. They accepted the money and agreed.
- But I may say that that other mule never materialised. I accepted the
- excuse when we left Taiku that there was no other mule to be hired, and by
- the time that excuse had worn thin I had so much else to think about that
- I bore up, though not even a donkey was added to our equipment.
- </p>
- <p>
- Money I took with me in lumps of silver, sycee—shoes, they called
- them—and a very unsatisfactory way it is of carrying cash. It is
- very heavy and there is no hiding the fact that you have got it. We
- changed little bits for our daily needs as we went along, just as little
- as we could, because the change in cash was an intolerable burden. On one
- occasion in Fen Chou Fu I gave Tsai Chih Fu a very small piece of silver
- to change and intimated that I would like to see the result. That piece of
- silver I reckon was worth about five shillings, but presently my master of
- transport and one of the muleteers came staggering in and laid before me
- rows and rows of cash strung on strings! I never felt so wealthy in my
- life. After that I never asked for my change. I was content to keep a sort
- of general eye on the expenditure, and I expect the only leakage was the
- accepted percentage which every servant levies on his master. 'When they
- might easily have cheated me, I found my servants showed always a most
- praiseworthy desire for my welfare. And yet Mr Wang did surprise me
- occasionally. While I was in Pao Ting Fu I had found it useful to learn to
- count in Chinese, so that roughly I knew what people at the food-stalls
- were charging me. On one occasion I saw some little cakes powdered with
- sesame seed that I thought I should like and I instructed Mr Wang to buy
- me one. I heard him ask the price and the man say three cash, and my
- interpreter turned to me and said that it was four! I was so surprised I
- said nothing. It may have been the regulation percentage, and twenty-five
- per cent is good anywhere, but at the moment it seemed to me extraordinary
- that a man who considered himself as belonging to the upper classes should
- find it worth his while to do me out of one cash, which was worth—no,
- I give it up. I don't know what it was worth. 10.53 dollars went to the
- pound when I was in Shansi and about thirteen hundred cash to the dollar,
- so I leave it to some better mathematician than I am to say what I was
- done out of on that occasion.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was another person who was very pleased with the litter and that was
- James Buchanan. Poor little man, just before we left the Flower Garden he
- was badly bitten by a dog, so badly he could no longer walk, and I had to
- carry him on a cushion alongside me in the litter. I never knew before how
- dearly one could love a dog, for I was terrified lest he should die and I
- should be alone in the world. He lay still and refused to eat, and every
- movement seemed to pain him, and whenever I struck a missionary—they
- were the only people, of course, with whom I could converse—they
- always suggested his back was broken.
- </p>
- <p>
- I remember at Ki Hsien, where I was entertained most hospitably, and where
- the missionary's wife was most sympathetic, he was so ill that I sat up
- all night with him and thought he would surely die. And yet in the morning
- he was still alive. He moaned when we lifted him into the litter and
- whined pitifully when I got out, as I had to several times to take
- photographs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't leave me, don't leave me to the mercy of the Chinese,” he said, and
- greeted me with howls of joy when I returned. It was a great day for both
- of us when he got a little better and could put his pretty little black
- and white head round the tilt and keep his eye upon me while I worked. But
- really he was an ideal patient, such a good, patient little dog, so
- grateful for any attention that was paid him, and from that time he began
- to mend and by the time I reached Fen Chou Fu was almost his old gay happy
- little self again.
- </p>
- <p>
- Taiku is a dying town over two thousand years old, and I have before seen
- dead towns in China. Fewer and fewer grow the inhabitants, the grass grows
- in the streets, the bricks fall away from the walls, the houses fall down,
- until but a few shepherds or peasant farmers dwell where once were the
- busy haunts of merchants and tradesmen.
- </p>
- <p>
- From Taiku I went on across the rich Shansi plain. Now in the springtime
- in the golden sunshine the wheat was just above the ground, turning the
- land into one vivid green, the sky was a cloudless blue, and all was
- bathed in the golden sunshine of Northern China. The air was clear and
- invigorating as champagne. “Every prospect pleases,” as the hymn says,
- “and only man is vile.” He wasn't vile; really I think he was a very good
- fellow in his own way, which was in a dimension into which I have never
- and am never likely to enter, but he was certainly unclean, ignorant, a
- serf, poverty-stricken with a poverty we hardly conceive of in the West,
- and the farther away I found myself from T'ai Yuan Fu the more friendly
- did I find him. This country was not like England, where until the last
- four years has been in the memory of our fathers and our fathers' fathers
- only peace. Even now, now as I write, when the World War is on, an air
- raid is the worst that has befallen the home-staying citizens of Britain.
- But Shansi has been raided again and again. Still the land was tilled,
- well tilled; on every hand were men working hard, working from dawn to
- dark, and working, to a stranger's eyes, for the good of the community,
- for the fields are not divided by hedge or fence; there is an occasional
- poplar or elm, and there are graves everywhere, but there is nothing to
- show where Wang's land ends and Lui's begins. All through the cultivated
- land wanders, apparently without object, the zigzag track of sand and ruts
- and stones known as the Great South Road, impossible for anything with
- wheels but a Chinese cart, and often impossible for that. There are no
- wayside cottages, nothing save those few trees to break the monotony, only
- here and there is a village sheltering behind high walls, sometimes of
- mud, but generally of brick, and stout, substantial brick at that; and if,
- as is not infrequent, there is a farmhouse alone, it, too, is behind high
- brick walls, built like a baronial castle of mediaeval times, with a
- look-out tower and room behind the walls not only for the owner's family
- even unto the third and fourth generation, but for all his hinds and his
- dependents as well. The whole is built evidently with a view to defence,
- and built apparently to last for hundreds of years. For Shansi is worth
- raiding. There is oil and there is wheat in abundance. There is money too,
- much of which comes from Mongolia and Manchuria. The bankers (the Shansi
- men are called the Jews of China) wander across and trade far into Russian
- territory while still their home is in agricultural Shansi, and certain it
- is that any disturbances in these countries, even in Russia, affect the
- prosperity of Shansi. I wonder if the Russian Revolution has been felt
- there. Very probably.
- </p>
- <p>
- Shansi is rich in other things too not as yet appreciated by the Chinaman.
- She has iron and copper and coal that has barely been touched, for the
- popular feeling is against mining. They say that no part of the globe
- contains such stores of coal. I hesitate about quoting a German, but they
- told me that Baron Reichthoffen has said that this province has enough
- coal to supply the world for two thousand years at the present rate of
- consumption. I haven't the faintest notion whether the Baron's opinion is
- worth anything, but if it is, it is no wonder that Germany, with her eye
- for ever on the main chance, has felt deeply being thrust out of China.
- </p>
- <p>
- With ample coal, and with iron alongside it, what might not Shansi be
- worth to exploit!
- </p>
- <p>
- Ki Hsien is a little walled town five <i>li</i> round. Roughly three <i>li</i>
- make a mile, but it is a little doubtful. For instance, from Taiku to Ki
- Hsien is fifty li, and that fifty <i>li</i> is sixteen miles, from Ki
- Hsien to Ping Yao is also fifty li, but that is only fourteen English
- miles. The land, say the Chinese, explaining this discrepancy, was
- measured in time of famine when it wasn't of any value! A very Chinese
- explanation.
- </p>
- <p>
- The city of Ki Hsien is very, very crowded; there were hundreds of tiny
- courtyards and flat roofs. In the picture of the missionary's house I have
- not been able to get the roof in because the courtyard—and it was a
- fairly large courtyard as courtyards in the city go—was not big
- enough. I stood as far away as I possibly could. Mr and Mrs Falls belonged
- to the Chinese Inland Mission and the house they lived in was over three
- hundred years old. Like many of the houses in Shansi, it was two storeys
- high and, strangely enough, a thing I have never seen anywhere else, the
- floors upstairs were of brick.
- </p>
- <p>
- I do not know how I would like to live in such a crowded community, but it
- has its advantages on occasion. At the time of the revolution, when those
- missionaries who had come through the Boxer times were all troubled and
- anxious about their future, the Falls decided to stay on at their station,
- and a rich native doctor, a heathen, but a friend, who lived next door,
- commended that decision.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why go away?” said he. “Your courtyard adjoins mine. If there is trouble
- we put up a ladder and you come over to us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And there was hint of trouble then. As we sat at supper there came in the
- Chinese postman in his shabby uniform of dirty blue and white, with his
- large military cap pushed on the back of his head, and he brought to the
- Falls a letter from Dr Edwards, the missionary doctor all foreign T'ai
- Yuan Fu thought I ought to meet.
- </p>
- <p>
- When I was within reach of the Peking foreign daily papers they mentioned
- Pai Lang as one might mention a burglar in London, sandwiching him in
- between the last racing fixtures or the latest Cinema attraction, but from
- a little walled town within a day's march of Hsi An Fu the veteran
- missionary wrote very differently, and we in this other little walled town
- read breathlessly.
- </p>
- <p>
- White Wolf had surrounded Hsi An Fu, he said; it was impossible to get
- there and he was returning.
- </p>
- <p>
- The darkness had fallen, the lamp in the middle of the table threw a light
- on the letter and on the faces of the middle-aged missionary and his wife
- who pored over it. It might mean so much to them. It undoubtedly meant
- much to their friends in Hsi An Fu, and it meant much to me, the outsider
- who had but an hour ago walked into their lives. For I began to fear lest
- this robber might affect me after all, lest in coming north I was not
- going to outflank him. According to Dr Edwards, he had already taken a
- little walled city a hundred li—about a day's journey—north-west
- of Hsi An Fu, and when 'White Wolf took a town it meant murder and rapine.
- And sitting there in the old Chinese room these two people who knew China
- told me in no measured terms what might happen to a woman travelling alone
- in disturbed country.
- </p>
- <p>
- Missionaries, they said, never left their stations when the country was
- disturbed, they were safer at home, surrounded by their friends. Once the
- country is raided by a robber band—and remember this is no uncommon
- thing in China—all the bad characters in the country come to the
- fore, and robber bands that have nothing to do with the original one
- spring into existence, the cities shut their gates to all strangers, and
- passports are so much waste paper. Between ourselves, I have a feeling
- they always are in China. I could hardly tell the difference between mine
- and my agreement with my muleteers, and I have an uneasy feeling that
- occasionally the agreement was presented when it should have been the
- passport.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now no one could be certain whether Pai Lang intended to take Lan Chou Fu,
- but it looked as if that were his objective. If he took the city it would
- not be much good my getting there, because the bankers would certainly not
- be able to supply me with money; even if he only raided the country round,
- it would be so disturbed that my muleteers would be bound to take alarm.
- If they left me, and they certainly would leave me if they thought there
- was a chance of their mules being taken, I should be done. It would spell
- finish not only to the expedition but to my life. A foreigner, especially
- a woman without money and without friends, would be helpless in China. Why
- should the people help her? It takes them all they know to keep their own
- heads above water. And Kansu was always turbulent; it only wanted a match
- to set the fire alight. Air and Mrs Falls—bless them for their
- kindness and interest!—thought I should be mad to venture.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0068.jpg" alt="0068 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0068.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0069.jpg" alt="0069 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0069.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0070.jpg" alt="0070 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0070.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- So there in the sitting-room which had been planned for a merchant prince
- and had come into the possession of these two who desired to bring the
- religion of the West to China I sat and discussed this new obstacle. After
- coming so far, laying out so much money, could I turn back when danger did
- not directly press? I felt I could not. And yet my hosts pointed out to me
- that if danger did directly threaten I would not be able to get away. If
- Pai Lang did take Lan Chou Fu, or even if he did not, it might well be
- worth his while to turn east and raid fertile Shansi. In a little town
- like Ki Hsien there was loot well worth having. In the revolution a banker
- there was held to ransom, and paid, as the people put it, thirty times ten
- thousand taels (a tael is roughly three shillings, according to the price
- of silver), and they said it was but a trifle to him—a flea-bite, I
- believe, was the exact term—and I ean well believe, in the multitude
- of worse parasites that afflict the average Chinaman, a flea-bite means
- much less than it does in England.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, I didn't feel like giving up just yet, so I decided to go on to
- Fen Chou Fu, where was a big American mission, and see what they had to
- say about the matter. If then I had to flee, the missionaries would very
- likely be fleeing too, and I should have company.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the very next day I had what I took for a warning.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a gorgeous day, a cloudless blue sky and brilliant sunshine, and I
- passed too many things of interest worth photographing. There were some
- extraordinary tombs, there was a quaint village gateway—the Gate of
- Everlasting Peace they call it—but I was glad to get back into my
- litter and hoped to stay there for a little, for getting out of a litter
- presents some difficulties unless you are very active indeed. It is a good
- long drop across the shafts on to the ground; the only other alternative
- is to drop down behind the mule's hind quarters and slip out under those
- shafts, but I never had sufficient confidence in my mule to do that, so
- that I generally ealled upon Tsài Chih Fu to lift me down. I had set out
- full of tremors, but taking photographs of the peaceful scenes soothed my
- ruffled nerves. I persuaded myself my fears had been born of the night and
- the dread of loneliness which sometimes overtakes me when I am in company
- and thinking of setting out alone, leaving kindly faces behind.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I came upon it, the first sign of unrest.
- </p>
- <p>
- The winding road rose a little and I could see right ahead of us a great
- crowd of people evidently much agitated, and I called to Mr Wang to know
- what was the matter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Repeat, please,” said he as usual, and then rode forward and came baek
- saying, “I do not know the word.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What word?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is a lot of people and a dead man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah!” said I, jumping to conclusions unwarrantably, “that is a funeral.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A funeral!” said he triumphantly. “I have learned a new word.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr Wang was always learning a new word and rejoicing over it, but, as I
- had hired him as a finished product, I hardly think it was unreasonable of
- me to be aggrieved, and to feel that I was paying him a salary for the
- pleasure of teaching him English. However, on this occasion his triumph
- was short-lived. .
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would you like to see the funeral?” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- I intimated that I would. My stalwart master of transport lifted me down
- and the crowded people made a lane for me to pass through, and half of
- them turned their attention to me, for though there were missionaries in
- the big towns, a foreigner was a sight to these country people, and, Mr
- Wang going first, we arrived at a man with his head cut off! Mercifully he
- was mixed up with a good deal of matting and planks, but still there was
- no mistaking the poor dead feet in their worn Chinese shoes turned up to
- the sky.
- </p>
- <p>
- Considering we are mortal, it is extraordinary how seldom the ordinary
- person looks upon death. Always it comes with a shock. At least it did. I
- suppose this war has accustomed some of us to the sight, so that we take
- the result of the meeting of mortal man with his last friend on earth more
- as a matter of eourse, as indeed it should be taken. Of course I know this
- is one of the results of the war.
- </p>
- <p>
- My sister's son, staying with me after six months in hospital, consequent
- upon a wound at Gallipoli, came home from a stroll one day and reported
- that he had seen nothing, and then at dinner that night mentioned in a
- casual manner that he had seen two dead men being carried out of a large
- building and put in a motor ear.
- </p>
- <p>
- I said in astonishment:
- </p>
- <p>
- “They couldn't have been dead!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course they were. Do you think I don't know dead men when I see them?
- I've seen plenty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So many that the sight of a couple in the streets of a quiet little
- country town seemed not even an occasion for remark.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I was not even accustomed to thinking of dead men and I turned upon Mr
- Wang angrily:
- </p>
- <p>
- “But that isn't a funeral. That's a corpse,” and once more to my
- irritation he rejoiced over a new word.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who killed him?” I asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They think an enemy has done this thing,” said he sententiously and
- unnecessarily, as, ignorant as I am of tilings Chinese, I should hardly
- think even they could have called it a friendly action. The body had been
- found the day before, and the people were much troubled about it. An
- official from Ping Yow—a coroner, I suppose we should call him—was
- coming out to inquire about it, and because the sun was already hot the
- people had raised a little screen of matting with a table and chairs where
- he could sit to hold inquiry.
- </p>
- <p>
- And here was the thing the missionaries had warned me against. Trouble,
- said they, always begins by the finding of dead bodies that cannot be
- accounted for, and this body was on the Great South Road. It might be only
- a case of common murder such as one might perchance meet in Piccadilly,
- possibly it was due to the bands of soldiers that were pouring into the
- country—to defend the crossings of the Yellow River, some people
- said—but it was to me an emphatic reminder that the warnings of Mr
- and Mrs Falls had not been given lightly, and I meditated upon it all the
- way to Ping Yow.
- </p>
- <p>
- All day long the soldiers had been pouring through Ki Hsien, all night
- long they poured through the suburbs of Ping Yow. Not through the town
- itself—the townspeople were not going to allow that if they could
- help themselves; and as it was evidently a forced march and the regiments
- were travelling by night, they could help themselves, for every city gate
- is shut at sundown. The China Inland Mission had a station at an old camel
- inn in the eastern suburb, and there the missionary's young wife was alone
- with five young children, babies all of them, and there I found her. I
- think she was very glad to see me, anyhow I was someone to discuss things
- with, and we two women talked and talked over our evening meal. She was a
- tall, pretty young woman—not even the ugly Chinese dress and her
- hair drawn back, not a hair out of place, Chinese fashion, could disguise
- her pathetic beauty. And she was a countrywoman of mine, born and brought
- up in the same state, Victoria, and her native town was Ararat, green and
- fresh among the hills. And how she talked Australia! What a beautiful land
- it was! And the people! The free, independent people! The women who walked
- easily and feared no man! To thoroughly appreciate a democratic country
- you should dwell in effete China. But she feared too, this woman, feared
- for herself and her five tiny children. It would be no easy job to get
- away. I told her of the dead man I had seen—how should I not tell
- her?—and she trembled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very likely it is the soldiers,” she said. “I am afraid of the Chinese
- soldiers.” And so am I in bulk, though taken singly they seem sueh
- harmless little chaps.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When the willow is green and the apricot yellow in the fifth moon,” said
- a metrical inscription on a stone dug up at Nankin in that year—the
- fatal year 1914—“terrible things will happen in the land of Han.”
- Terrible things, it seems to me, always happen in the land of Han; but if
- it spoke for the great world beyond, truly the stone spoke truth, though
- we did not know it then.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the evening back from the country where he had been preaching for the
- last day or two came my Australian's husband, and there also came in to
- see the stranger two missionaries from the other side of the town. They
- sat there, these men and women of British race, dressed in the outlandish
- costume of the people around them—a foolish fashion, it seems to me,
- for a European in unadulterated Chinese dress looks as ugly and out of
- place as a Chinese in a stiff collar and a bowler hat. And all the evening
- we discussed the soldiers and the dead man I had seen, and opinions
- differed as to the portent.
- </p>
- <p>
- It is true, said one of them who had been in the country many years, and
- was a missionary pure and simple, with eyes for nothing but the work he
- had in hand—which is probably the way to work for success—that
- a dead body, particularly a dead body by the highroad, is often a sign of
- unrest, but again, quite as often it means no more than a dead body in any
- other place. If he had turned back for every dead body he had seen——
- </p>
- <p>
- Well, I thought I would not turn back either. Not yet, at least.
- </p>
- <p>
- Never was I sorrier for missionaries, I who have always written against
- missionaries, than I was for this young countrywoman of mine who never
- thought of being sorry for herself. It was a big ugly mission compound,
- the rooms, opening one into another, were plain and undecorated, and the
- little children as a great treat watered the flowers that struggled up
- among the stones of the dusty courtyard, and the very watering-can was
- made with Chinese ingenuity from an old kerosene tin. It seemed to me
- those little children would have had such a much better chance growing up
- in their mother's land, or in their father's land—he was a Canadian—among
- the free peoples of the earth. But who am I, to judge? No one in the
- world, it seems to me, wants help so much as the poorer Chinese, whose
- life is one long battle with disease and poverty; and perhaps these poorer
- missionaries help a little, a very little; but the poorer the mission the
- poorer the class they reach, and the sacrifice, as I saw it here, is so
- great.
- </p>
- <p>
- Next morning we arose early, and I breakfasted with my host and hostess
- and their five children. The children's grace rings in my ears yet, always
- I think it will ring there, the childish voices sung it with such fervour
- and such faith:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “Every day, every day, we bless Thee, we bless Thee,
- </p>
- <p class="indent10">
- We praise Thy Name, we praise Thy Name,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- For ever and for ever!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- There in the heart of China these little children, who had, it seemed to
- me, so very little to be grateful for, thanked their God with all their
- hearts, and when their elders with the same simple fervour went down on
- their knees and asked their God to guide and help the stranger and set her
- on her way, though it was against all my received canons of good taste,
- what could I do but be simply grateful.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ping Yow is a large town set in the midst of a wheatgrowing country, and
- it is built in the shape of a turtle, at least so I was told. I could see
- for myself that its walls were not the usual four-square set to the points
- of the compass, but seemed irregular, with many little towers upon them.
- These towers, it seems, were built in memory of the teachers of Confucius—this
- is the only intimation I have had that he had seventy-two; and there were
- over three thousand small excrescences—again I only repeat what I
- was told; I did not count them, and if I had I would surely have counted
- them wrong—like sentry-boxes in memory of his disciples. I do not
- know why Ping Yow thus dedicates itself to the memory of the great sage.
- It needs something to commend it, for it remains in my mind as a bare,
- ugly, crowded town, with an extra amount of dust and dirt and heat, and no
- green thing to break the monotony.
- </p>
- <p>
- And I set forth, and in spite of all I still faced West.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0079.jpg" alt="0079 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0079.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0080.jpg" alt="0080 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0080.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV—A CITY UNDER THE HILLS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n my wanderings
- across Shansi I came in contact with two missionary systems run with the
- same object in view but carried out in diametrically opposite ways. Of
- course I speak as an outsider. I criticise as one who only looks on, but
- after all it is an old saw that the onlooker sees most of the game. There
- are, of course, many missions in China, and I often feel that if the
- Chinaman were not by nature a philosopher he would sometimes be a little
- confused by salvation offered him by foreigners of all sects and classes,
- ranging from Roman Catholics to Seventh Day Adventists. Personally I have
- received much kindness from English Baptists, from the China Inland
- Mission and from American Presbyterians and Congregationalists. Amongst
- them all I—who frankly do not believe in missions, believing that
- the children at home should first be fed—found much to admire, much
- individual courage and sacrifice, but for the systems, I felt the American
- missions were the most efficient, far the most likely to attain the end in
- view.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Chinaman, to begin with, sees no necessity for his own conversion.
- Unlike the ordinary black man, he neither admires nor envies the white
- man, and is given to thinking his own ways are infinitely preferable. But
- the Chinaman is a man of sound common-sense, he immensely admires
- efficiency, he is a great believer in education, and when a mission comes
- to him fully equipped with doctors, nurses and hospitals, teachers and
- schools, he, once he has overcome his dread of anything new, begins to
- avail himself first of the doctor and the hospital, for the sore need of
- China is for medical attendance, and then of the schools. Then comes
- conversion. They tell me that there are many genuine converts. I have only
- noticed that the great rich American missions rake in converts by tens and
- twenties, where they come dribbling in in units to the faith missions,
- which offer no such advantages as medical attendance or tuition. The faith
- missionaries work hard enough. I have seen a woman just come in from a
- week's missionary tour in a district where, she explained, she had slept
- on the k'angs with the other women of the household, and she was stripping
- off her clothes most carefully and combing her long hair with a
- tooth-comb, because all women of the class she visited among were
- afflicted with those little parasites that we do not mention. The Chinese
- have a proverb that “the Empress herself has three,” so it is no shame.
- She thought nothing of her sacrifice, that was what she had come for,
- everyone else was prepared to do the same; but when so much is given I
- like to see great results, as in the American missions. They are rich, and
- the Chinaman, with a few glaring exceptions, is a very practical person.
- To ask him to change his faith for good that will work out in another
- world is asking rather much of him. If he is going to do so he feels he
- may as well have a God who will give him something in return for being
- outcast. At least that is the way I read the results. Look at Fen Chou,
- for instance, where the Americans are thriving and a power in the town,
- and look at Yung Ning Chou, farther west, where a Scandinavian faith
- mission has been established for over twenty years. They may have a few
- adherents in the country round, but in the city itself—a city of
- merchants—they have, I believe, not made a single convert.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course the China Inland Mission does not lay itself out to be rich.
- However many subscriptions come in, the individual missionary gets no more
- than fifty pounds a year; if more money comes, more missionaries are
- established, if less, then the luckless individual missionary gets as much
- of the fifty pounds as funds allow. The Founder of the Faith was poor and
- lowly, therefore the missionaries must follow in His footsteps. I
- understand the reason, the nobility, that lies in the sacrifice implied
- when men and women give their lives for their faith, but not only do I
- like best the results of the American system, but I dislike exceedingly
- that a European should be poor in an Oriental country. If missionaries
- must go to China, I like them to go for the benefit of the Chinese and for
- the honour and glory of the race to which they belong, and not for the
- good of their own souls.
- </p>
- <p>
- I came into Fen Chou Fu and went straight to the large compound of the
- American missionaries, three men and three women from Oberlin College,
- Ohio. They had a hospital, they had a school, they had a kindergarten, the
- whole compound was a flourishing centre of industry. They teach their
- faith, for that is what they have come out for, but also they teach the
- manifold knowledge of the West. Sanitation and hygiene loom large in their
- curriculum, and heaven knows, without taking into consideration any future
- life, they must be a blessing to those men and women who under cruel
- conditions must see this life through. These six missionaries at Fen Chou
- Fu do their best to improve those conditions with a practical American
- common-sense and thoroughness that won my admiration.
- </p>
- <p>
- Fen Chou Fu, unlike T'ai Yuan Fu, is friendly, and has always been
- friendly, to the foreigner; even during the Boxer trouble they were loath
- to kill their missionaries, and when the order came that they were to be
- slain, declined to allow it to be done within their walls, but sent them
- out, and they were killed about seven miles outside the city—a very
- Chinese way of freeing themselves from blood-guiltiness.
- </p>
- <p>
- The town struck me as curiously peaceful after the unrest and the
- never-ending talk of riot, robbery and murder I had heard all along the
- road. The weather was getting warm and we all sat at supper on the
- verandah of Dr Watson's house, with the lamps shedding a subdued light on
- the table, and the sounds of the city coming to us softened by the
- distance, and Mr Watt Pye assured me he had been out in the country and
- there was nothing to fear, nothing. The Chinaman as he had seen him had
- many sins, at least errors of conduct that a missionary counts sin, but as
- far as he knew I might go safely to the Russian border. He had not been in
- the country very long, not, I fancy, a fifth of the time Dr Edwards had
- been there, but, listening to him, I hoped once more.
- </p>
- <p>
- The town is old. It was going as a city in 2205 b.c., and it is quite
- unlike any other I have come across in China. It is a small square city
- about nine <i>li</i> round, and on each of the four sides are suburbs,
- also walled. Between them and the city are the gully-like roads leading to
- the gates. The eastern suburb is nearly twice as large as the main city,
- and is surrounded by a high brick wall, but the other suburbs have only
- walls like huge banks of clay, on the top the grass grows, and on my way
- in I was not surprised to see on top of this clay-bank a flock of sheep
- browsing. It seemed a very appropriate place for sheep, for at first sight
- there is nothing to show that this was the top of a town wall.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the Manehus drove out the Mings, the vanquished Imperial family took
- refuge in this western town and rebuilt the walls, which had been allowed
- to fall into disrepair, and they set about the job in a fashion worthy of
- Babylon itself. The bricks were made seven miles away in the hills, and
- passed from hand to hand down a long line of men till they reached their
- destination and were laid one on top of another to face the great
- clay-bank forty-six feet high that guards the city. According to Chinese
- ideas, the city needs guarding not from human enemies only. The mountains
- to the west and north overshadow it, and all manner of evil influences
- come from the north, and the people fear greatly their effect upon the
- town. It was possible it might never get a good magistrate, or that,
- having got one, he might die, and therefore they took every precaution
- they could to ward off such a calamity. Gods they put in their watch tower
- over the gate, and they sit there still, carved wooden figures, a great
- fat god—if a city is to be prosperous must not its god be prosperous
- too?—surrounded by lesser satellites. Some are fallen now, and the
- birds of the air roost upon them, and the dust and the cobwebs have
- gathered upon them, but not yet will they be cleared away. In a chamber
- below are rusty old-world cannon flung aside in a heap as so much useless
- lumber, and, below, all the busy traffic of the city passes in and out
- beneath the arches of the gateway. In that gateway are two upright stones
- between whieh all wheeled traffic must pass, the distance between these
- stones marking the length of the axle allowed by the narrow city streets.
- Any vehicle having a greater length of axle cannot pass in. No mere words
- can describe the awful condition of the roads of Shansi, and to lessen as
- far as possible the chance of an upset the country man makes his axle very
- wide, and, knowing this, the town man notifies at his gates the width of
- the vehicle that can pass in his streets. No other can enter.
- </p>
- <p>
- Besides the gods over the gateway, Fen Chou Fu, owing to its peculiar
- position under the hills, requires other guarding, and there are two tall
- bronze phoenixes on the wall close to the northern watch tower. I was
- quite pleased to make the acquaintance of a phoenix, as, though I have
- read about them, I had never met them before. In Fen Chou Fu it appears
- that a phoenix is between thirty and forty feet high, built like a comic
- representation of a chicken, with a long curly neck and a cock's comb upon
- his head. It would indeed be a churlish, evil spirit who was not moved to
- laughter at the sight. But though the form is crude, on the bronze bases
- and on the birds themselves are worked beautifully the details of a long
- story. Dragons and foxes and rabbits, and many strange symbols that I do
- not understand come into it, but how they help to guard the city, except
- by pleasing the gods or amusing the evil spirits, I must confess I cannot
- imagine. Certainly the city fathers omit the most necessary care: once the
- walls are finished, the mason is apparently never called in, and they are
- drifting to decay. Everywhere the bricks are falling out, and when I was
- there in the springtime the birds of the air found there a secure
- resting-place. There were crows and hawks and magpies and whistling kites
- popping in and out of the holes so made, in their beaks straws and twigs
- for the making of their nests. They would be secure probably in any case,
- for the Chinese love birds, but here they are doubly secure, for only with
- difficulty and by the aid of a long rope could any man possibly reach
- them.
- </p>
- <p>
- The ramps up to those walls were extremely steep—it was a
- heart-breaking process to get on top—but Buchanan and I, accompanied
- by the master of transport carrying the camera, and often by Mr Leete, one
- of the missionaries, took exercise there; for in a walled city in the
- narrow streets there is seldom enough air for my taste. The climate here
- is roughly summer and winter, for though so short a while ago it had been
- freezing at night, already it was very hot in the middle of the day, and
- the dust rose up from the narrow streets in clouds. A particularly bad
- cloud of dust generally indicated pigs, which travel a good deal in
- Northern China, even as sheep and cattle do in Australia. In Shantung a
- man sets out with a herd of pigs and travels them slowly west, very
- slowly, and they feed along the wayside, though what they feed on heaven
- only knows, for it looks to me as though there is nothing, still possibly
- they pick up something, and I suppose the idea is that they arrive at the
- various places in time for the harvest, or when grain and products are
- cheapest. There are inns solely given over to pigs and their drivers in
- Shansi, and the stench outside some of those in Fen Chou Fu was just a
- little taller than the average smell, and the average smell in a Chinese
- city is something to be always remembered. There were other things to be
- seen from the top of the wall too—long lines of camels bearing
- merchandise to and from the town, donkeys, mules, carts, all churning up
- the dust of the unkempt roadway, small-footed women seated in their
- doorways looking out upon the life of the streets, riding donkeys or
- peeping out of the tilts of the carts. I could see into the courtyards of
- the well-to-do, with their little ponds and bridges and gardens. All the
- life of the city lay beneath us. Possibly that is why one meets so very,
- very seldom any Chinese on the wall—it may be, it probably is, I
- should think, bad taste to look into your neighbour's courtyard.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the wall justified its existence, mediaeval and out of date as it
- seemed to me. There along the top at intervals were little heaps of
- good-sized stones, placed there by the magistrate in the revolution for
- the defence of the town. At first I smiled and thought how primeval, but
- looking down into the road nearly fifty feet below, I realised that a big
- stone flung by a good hefty fist from the top of that wall was a weapon by
- no means to be despised.
- </p>
- <p>
- But walls, if often a protection, are sometimes a danger in more ways than
- in shutting out the fresh air. The summer rains in North China are heavy,
- and Fen Chou Fu holds water like a bucket. The only outlets are the narrow
- gateways, and the waters rise and rise. A short time before I came there
- all the eastern quarter of the town was flooded so deep that a woman was
- drowned. At last the waters escaped through the eastern gate, only to be
- banked up by the great ash-heaps, the product of centuries, the waste
- rubbish of the town, that are just outside the wall of the eastern suburb.
- It took a long, long while for those flood waters to percolate through the
- gateway of the suburb and find a resting-place at last in a swamp the
- other side of that long-suffering town. I must confess that this is one of
- the drawbacks to a walled town that has never before occurred to me,
- though to stand there and look at those great gates, those solid walls,
- made me feel as if I had somehow wandered into the fourth dimension, so
- out of my world were they.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a great fair in a Taoist temple and one day Mr Leete and I, with
- his teacher and my servant, attended. A wonderful thing is a Chinese fair
- in a temple. I do not yet understand the exact object of these fairs,
- though I have attended a good many of them. Whether they help the funds of
- the temple as a bazaar is supposed to help a church in this country, I
- cannot say. A temple in China usually consists of a set of buildings often
- in different courtyards behind one enclosing wall, and these buildings are
- not only temples to the gods, but living-rooms which are often let to
- suitable tenants, and, generally speaking, if the stranger knows his way
- about—I never did—he can get in a temple accommodation for
- himself and his servants, far superior accommodation to that offered in
- the inns. It costs a little more, but everything is so cheap that makes no
- difference to the foreigner. The Taoist temple the day I went there was
- simply humming with life; there were stalls everywhere, and crowds of
- people buying, selling or merely gossiping and looking on. I took a
- picture of some ladies of easy virtue with gay dresses and gaily painted
- faces, tottering about, poor things, on their maimed feet, and at the same
- spot, close against the altar of the god, I took a picture of the priest.
- With much hesitation he consented to stand. He had in his hand some
- fortune-telling sticks, but did not dare hold them while his portrait was
- being taken. However, Mr Leete's teacher was a bold, brave, enlightened
- man—in a foreign helmet—and he held the sticks, and the two
- came out in the picture together. I trust no subsequent harm came to the
- daring man.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0089.jpg" alt="0089 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0089.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0090.jpg" alt="0090 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0090.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- In Fen Chou Fu I could have walked about the town alone unmolested. I
- never did, because it would have been undignified and often awkward, as I
- could not speak the language, but the people were invariably friendly. On
- the whole, there was not very much to see. The sun poured down day after
- day in a cloudless sky, and the narrow streets, faced with stalls or blank
- grey brick walls enclosing the compounds, were dusty and uneven, with the
- ruts still there that had been made when the ground was softened by the
- summer rains of the year before. Away to the south-east was a great
- pagoda, the second tallest in China, a landmark that can be seen for many
- a long mile across the plain. This, like the phoenixes, is <i>feng shui</i>.
- I have never grasped the inwardness of pagodas, which are dotted in
- apparently a casual manner about the landscape. An immense amount of
- labour must have been expended upon them, and they do not appear to serve
- any useful purpose. This one at Fen Chou Fu is meant to balance after a
- fashion the phoenixes on the northern wall and afford protection for the
- southern approach to the city. I don't know that it was used for any other
- purpose. It stood there, tall and commanding, dwarfing everything else
- within sight. Neither do I know the purpose of the literary tower which
- stands on the southeast corner of the wall. It denotes that the town
- either has or hopes to have a literary man of high standing among its
- inhabitants. But to look for the use in all things Chinese would be
- foolish; much labour is expended on work that can be only for artistic
- purposes. To walk through a Chinese town, in spite of filth, in spite of
- neglect and disrepair, is to feel that the Chinaman is an artist to his
- finger-tips.
- </p>
- <p>
- The gate to the American church in Fen Chou Fu, for instance, was a
- circle, a thing of strange beauty. Imagine such a gate in an English town,
- and yet here it seemed quite natural and very beautiful. They had no bell,
- why I do not know, perhaps because every temple in China has a plenitude
- of bells hanging from its eaves and making the air musical when the
- faintest breath of wind stirs and missionaries are anxious to dissociate
- themselves in every way from practices they call idolatry, even when those
- practices seem to an outsider like myself rather attractive. At any rate,
- to summon the faithful to church a man beats a gong.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there is one institution of Fen Chou Fu which is decidedly
- utilitarian, and that is the wells in the northwestern corner. A Chinaman,
- I should say, certainly uses on the average less water than the majority
- of humanity; a bath when he is three days old, a bath when he is married,
- and after that he can comfortably last till he is dead, is the generally
- received idea of his ablutions, but he does want a little water to carry
- on life, and in this corner of the town are situated the wells which
- supply that necessary. It is rather brackish, but it is still drinkable,
- and it is all that the city gets. They were a never-ending source of
- interest to me. They were established in those far-away days before
- history began—perhaps the presence of the water here was the reason
- for the building of the town—and they have been here ever since. The
- mouths are builded over with masonry, and year in and year out have come
- those self-same carts with solid wheels, drawn by a harnessed ox or an ox
- and a mule, bearing the barrels to be filled with water. Down through all
- the ages those self-same men, dressed in blue cotton that has worn to a
- dingy drab, with a wisp of like stuff tied round their heads to protect
- them from the dust or the cold or the sun, have driven those oxen and
- drawn that water. Really and truly our own water, that comes to us, hot
- and cold, so easily by the turning of a tap, is much more wonderful and
- interesting, but that I take as a matter of course, while I never tired of
- watching those prehistoric carts. It was in rather a desolate corner of
- the town too. The high walls rose up and frowned upon it, the inside of
- the walls where there was no brick, only crumbling clay with shrubs and
- creepers just bursting into leaf and little paths that a goat or an active
- boy might negotiate meandering up to the top. And to get to that part I
- had to pass the ruins of the old yamen razed to the ground when the
- Government repented them of the Boxer atrocities, and razed so effectually
- that only the two gate-posts, fashioned like lions, Chinese architectural
- lions, survive. A curse is on the place, the people say; anyhow when I
- visited it fourteen years later no effort had been made to rebuild. Not
- for want of labour, surely. There are no trade unions in China, and daily
- from dawn to dark in Fen Chou Fu I saw the bricklayers' labourers trotting
- along, bringing supplies to the men who were building, in the streets I
- met men carrying water to the houses in buckets, and now in the springtime
- there was a never-ending supply of small boys, clad in trousers only, or
- without even those, bearing, slung from each end of a bamboo, supplies of
- firewood, or rather of such scraps as in any other land would have been
- counted scarce worth the cost of transport. Any day too I might expect to
- meet a coffin being borne along, not secretly and by night as we take one
- to a house, but proudly borne in the open daylight, for everyone knows a
- coffin is the most thoughtful and kindly as well as often the most
- expensive of gifts.
- </p>
- <p>
- While here I attended a wedding. Twice have I attended a Chinese wedding.
- The first was at Pao Ting Fu at Christmas time, and the contracting
- parties were an evangelist of the church who in his lay capacity was a
- strapping big laundryman and one of the girls in Miss Newton's school.
- They had never spoken to one another, that would have been a frightful
- breach of decorum, but as they went to the same church, where there was no
- screen between the men and the women, as there is in many Chinese
- churches, it is possible they knew each other by sight. It is curious how
- in some things the missionaries conform to Chinese ideas and in others
- decline to yield an inch. In Pao Ting Fu no church member was allowed to
- smoke, but the women were kept carefully in retirement, and the
- schoolmistress, herself an unmarried woman, and the doctor's wife arranged
- marriages for such of the girls as came under their guardianship. Of
- course I see the reason for that: in the present state of Chinese society
- no other method would be possible, for these schoolgirls, all the more
- because they had a little scholarship and education, unless their future
- had been arranged for, would have been a temptation and a prey for all the
- young men around, and even with their careful education—and it was a
- careful education; Miss Newton was a woman in a thousand, I always grudged
- her to the Chinese—were entirely unfitted to take care of
- themselves.
- </p>
- <p>
- Still it always made me smile to see these two women, middle-class
- Americans from Virginia, good-looking and kindly, with a keen sense of
- humour, gravely discussing the eligible young men around the mission and
- the girls who were most suitable for them. It was the most barefaced and
- open match-making I have ever seen. But generally, I believe, they were
- very successful, for this one thing is certain, they had the welfare of
- the girls at heart.
- </p>
- <p>
- And this was one of the matches they had arranged. It is on record that on
- this special occasion the bridegroom, with the consent and connivance of
- the schoolmistress, had written to the bride exhorting her to diligence,
- and pointing out how good a thing it was that a woman should be well read
- and cultured. And seeing that she came of very poor people she might well
- be counted one of the fortunate ones of the earth, for the bridegroom was
- educating her. The ignorance of the average Chinese woman in far higher
- circles than she came of is appalling.
- </p>
- <p>
- Christmas Day was chosen for the ceremony, and Christmas Day was a
- glorious winter's day, with golden sunshine for the bride, and the air,
- the keen, invigorating air of Northern China, was sparkling with frost.
- Now, in contrast to the next wedding I attended, this wedding was on
- so-called Western lines; but the Chinese is no slavish imitator, he
- changes, but he changes after his own fashion. The church was decorated by
- devout Chinese Christians with results which to 'Western eyes were a
- little weird and outré. Over the platform that in an Anglican church would
- be the altar was a bank of greenery, very pretty, with flowers dotted all
- over it, and on it Chinese characters in cotton wool, “Earth rejoices,
- heaven sings,” and across that again was a festoon of small flags of all
- nations, while from side to side of the church were slung garlands of
- gaily coloured paper in the five colours of the new republic, and when I
- think of the time and patience that went to the making of those garlands I
- was quite sorry they reminded me of fly-catchers. But the crowning
- decoration was the Chinese angel that hovered over all. This being was
- clad in white, a nurse's apron was used, girt in at the waist, foreign
- fashion, and I grieve to say they did not give her much breathing-space,
- though they tucked a pink flower in her belt. Great white paper wings were
- spread out behind, and from her head, framing the decidedly Mongolian
- countenance, were flowing golden curls, made by the ingenious decorators
- of singed cotton wool.
- </p>
- <p>
- One o'clock was fixed for the wedding, and at a quarter to one the church
- was full.
- </p>
- <p>
- They did not have the red chair for the bride. The consensus of opinion
- was against it. “It was given up now by the best people in Peking. They
- generally had carriages. And anyhow it was a ridiculous expense.” So it
- was deeided that the bride should walk. The church was only a
- stone's-throw from the schoolhouse where she lived. The bridegroom stood
- at the door on the men's side of the church, a tall, stalwart Chinaman,
- with his blaek hair sleek and oiled and cut short after the modern
- fashion. He was suitably clad in black silk. He reminded me of “William,”
- a doll of my childhood who was dressed in the remains of an old silk
- umbrella—this is saying nothing against the bridegroom, for
- “William” was an eminently superior doll, and always looked his very best
- if a little smug occasionally. But if a gentleman who has attained to the
- proud position of laundryman and evangelist, and is marrying the girl he
- has himself at great expense educated for the position, has not a right to
- look a little smug, I don't know who has. Beside him stood his special
- friend, the chief Chinese evangelist, who had himself been married four
- months before. At the organ sat the American doctor's pretty young wife,
- and as the word was passed, “The bride is coming!” she struck up the
- wedding march, and all the women's eyes turned to the women's door, while
- the men, who would not commit such a breach of decorum as to look, stared
- steadily ahead.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the wedding march had been played over and over again before she did
- come, resplendent and veiled, after the foreign fashion, in white mosquito
- netting, with pink and blue flowers in her hair, and another bunch in her
- hand. The bridegroom had wished her to wear silk on this great occasion,
- so he had hired the clothes, a green silk skirt and a bronze satin brocade
- coat.
- </p>
- <p>
- A model of Chinese decorum was that bride. Her head under the white veil
- was bent, her eyes were glued to the ground, and not a muscle of her body
- moved as she progressed very slowly forward. Presumably she did put one
- foot before the other, but she had the appearance of an automaton in the
- hands of the women on either side—her mother, a stooping little old
- woman, and a tall young woman in a bright blue brocade, the wife of the
- bridegroom's special friend. Each grasped her by an arm just above the
- elbow and apparently propelled her up the aisle as if she were on wheels.
- Up the opposite aisle came the bridegroom, also with his head bent and his
- eyes glued to the ground and propelled forward in the same manner by his
- friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- They met, those two who had never met face to face before, before the
- minister, and he performed the short marriage ceremony, and as he said the
- closing words the Chinese evangelist became Master of Ceremonies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The bridegroom and bride,” said he, “'will bow to each other once in the
- new style.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The bride and groom standing before the minister bowed deeply to each
- other in the new style.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They will bow a second time,” and they bowed again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They will bow a third time,” and once more they bowed low.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They will now bow to the minister,” and they turned like well-drilled
- soldiers and bowed to the white-haired man who had married them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They will now bow to the audience,” and they faced the people and bowed
- deeply, and everybody in that congregation rose and returned the
- salutation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And now the audience will bow to the bride and bridegroom,” and with
- right good will the congregation, Chinese and the two or three foreigners,
- rose and saluted the newly married couple, also I presume in the new
- style.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was over, and to the strains of the wedding march they left the church,
- actually together, by way of the women's entrance. But the bride was not
- on the groom's arm. That would not have been in accord with Chinese ideas.
- The bridegroom marched a little ahead, propelled forward by his friend, as
- if he had no means of volition of his own—again I thought of
- “William,” long since departed and forgotten till this moment—and
- behind came the new wife, thrust forward in the same manner, still with
- her eyes on the floor and every muscle stiff as if she too had been a
- doll.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All the world loves a lover,” but in China, the land of ceremonies, there
- are no lovers. This man had gone further than most men in the wooing of
- his wife, and they were beginning life together with very fair chances of
- success. But even so the girl might not hope for a home of her own.
- </p>
- <p>
- That would have been most unseemly. The evangelist laundryman had not a
- mother, but his only sister was taking the place of mother-in-law, and he
- and his bride would live with her and her husband.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0099.jpg" alt="0099 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0099.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0100.jpg" alt="0100 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0100.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- The wedding I attended in Fen Chou Fu was quite a different affair. It was
- spring, or perhaps I should say early summer, the streets through which we
- drove to the old house of one of the Ming princes where dwelt the
- bridegroom with his mother were thick with dust, and the sun blazed down
- on us. The bridegroom belonged to a respectable well-to-do trading family,
- and he wanted a Christian wife because he himself is an active member of
- the church, but the Christian church at Fen Chou Fu has been bachelor so
- long, and the division between the sexes is so strait, that there are
- about fifty available girls to between eight and nine hundred young men,
- therefore he had to take what he could get, and what he could get was a
- pagan little girl about eighteen, for whom he paid thirty Mexican dollars,
- roughly a little under three pounds. I, a Greek, who do not care much what
- any man's religion is so long as he live a decent life, understand the
- desire of that man for a Christian wife, for that means here in the
- interior that she will have received a little education, will be able to
- read and write and do arithmetic, and will know something of cleanliness
- and hygiene.
- </p>
- <p>
- The great day arrived, and the missionaries and I were invited to the
- bridegroom's house for the ceremony and the feast that was to follow. The
- entertainment began about eight o'clock in the morning, but we arrived a
- little after noon, and we two women, Miss Grace Maccomaughey and I, were
- ushered through the courtyards till we came to the interior one, which was
- crowded with all manner of folks, some in festive array, some servants in
- the ordinary blue of the country, and some beggars in rags who were
- anticipating the scraps that fall from the rich man's table, and were
- having tea and cake already. Overhead the sky was shut out by all manner
- of flags and banners with inscriptions in Chinese characters upon them,
- and once inside, we made our way towards the house through a pressing
- crowd. Opposite the place that perhaps answered for a front door was a
- table draped in red, the colour of joy, and on the table were two long
- square candles of red wax with Chinese characters in gold upon them. They
- were warranted to burn a day and a night, and between them was a pretty
- dwarf plant quaintly gnarled and bearing innumerable white flowers. That
- table was artistic and pretty, but to its left was a great pile of coal,
- and, beside the coal, a stove and a long table at which a man, blue-clad,
- shaven and with a queue, was busy preparing the feast within sight of all.
- I could have wished the signs of hospitality had not been so much in
- evidence, for I could quite believe that cook had not been washed since he
- was three days old, and under the table was a large earthenware bowl full
- of extremely dirty water in which were being washed the bowls we would
- presently use.
- </p>
- <p>
- Out came the women of the household to greet us and conduct us to the
- bridal chamber, dark and draped with red and without any air to speak of.
- It was crowded to suffocation with women in gala costumes, with bands of
- black satin embroidered in flowers upon their heads, gay coats and loose
- trousers, smiling faces and the tiny feet of all Shansi. It was quite a
- relief to sit down on the <i>k'ang</i> opposite to a stout and cheerful
- old lady with a beaming face who looked like a well-to-do farmer's wife.
- She was a childless widow, however, but she had attained to the proud
- position of Bible-woman, receiving a salary of four Mexican dollars a
- month, and consequently had a position and station of her own. In my
- experience there is nothing like being sure of one's own importance in the
- world. It is certainly conducive to happiness. I know the missionaries,
- bless them! would say I am taking a wrong view, but whatever the reason at
- the back of it all, to them is the honour of that happy,
- comfortable-looking Bible-woman. And there are so few happy-looking women
- in China!
- </p>
- <p>
- We sat on the <i>k'ang</i> and waited for the bride, and we discoursed. My
- feet—I never can tuck them under me—clad in good substantial
- leather, looked very large beside the tiny ones around me, for even the
- Bible-woman's had been bound in her youth, and of course, though they were
- unbound now, the broken bones could never come straight, and the-flesh
- could not grow between the heel and the toes. She looked at my feet and I
- laughed, and she said sententiously, like a true Chinese:
- </p>
- <p>
- “The larger the feet the happier the woman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I asked did it hurt when hers were bound.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It hurt like anything,” translated the missionary girl beside me, “but it
- is all right now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The bride was long in coming, and shortly after four we heard the gongs
- and music and crackers that heralded her arrival, and we all went out to
- greet her, or rather to stare at her. First came the bridegroom, and that
- well-to-do tradesman was a sight worth coming out to see. He wore a most
- respectable black satin jacket and a very pretty blue silk petticoat;
- round his neck and crossed on his breast was a sash of orange-red silk,
- set off with a flaring magenta artificial chrysanthemum of no mean
- proportions, and on his head, and somewhat too small for him, was—a
- rare headgear in China—a hard black felt hat. From the brim of that,
- on either side, rose a wire archway across the crown, on which were strung
- ornaments of brass, and I am bound to say that the whole effect was
- striking.
- </p>
- <p>
- Before the bride came in to be married, out went two women to lift her
- veil and smear her face with onion. They explained that the bridegroom's
- mother should do this, but the fortune-teller had informed them that these
- two women would be antagonistic—which I think I could have foretold
- without the aid of any fortune-teller—therefore the rite was deputed
- to two other women, one of whom was the kindergarten teacher at the
- sehool. Then, with the teacher on one side and a lucky woman with husband
- and children living on the other, down through the crowd came the little
- bride to her marriage. She was clad in a red robe, much embroidered, which
- entirely hid her figure, so that whether she were fat or slim it was
- impossible to see, on her head was a brazen crown entirely covering it,
- and over her face was a veil of thick bright red silk. She could neither
- see nor be seen. Her feet were the tiniest I have ever seen, they looked
- about suitable for a baby of twelve months old. The tiny red shoes were
- decorated with little green tassels at the pointed toe and had little baby
- high heels, and though they say these feet were probably false, the real
- ones must have been wonderfully small if they were hidden in the manifold
- red bandages that purported to make the slender red ankles neat.
- </p>
- <p>
- Bride and bridegroom took their places in front of the minister, in front
- of the plant and alongside the coals, and it made my back ache to think of
- keeping any being standing for above a second on such feet. The service
- began, all in Chinese, of course, though the officiating minister was an
- American, a couple of hymns were sung, and the audience laughed aloud
- because she was married by her baby name, her mother having omitted to
- provide her with another.
- </p>
- <p>
- The good woman had yearned for a son so she had called this girl “Lead a
- brother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Half-way through the ceremony the bridegroom lifted the veil. He gave it a
- hurried snatch, as if it were a matter of no moment, and hung it on one of
- the projections of the brazen crown, and then he and we saw the bride's
- face for the first time. They had done their best to spoil her beauty with
- carmine paint, but she had a nice little nose and a sweet little quivering
- mouth that was very lovable, and I think the bridegroom, though he never
- moved a muscle, must have been pleased with his bargain.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the service was ended, she and we, the principal guests, went back to
- the <i>k'ang</i> in the bride chamber; her crown and outer red robe were
- taken off, all in public, and a small square box containing some of her
- trousseau was brought in, and every woman and child there in that stuffy
- little room dived into it and hauled out the silks and embroideries and
- little shoes and made audible comments on them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “H'm! it's only sham silk,” said one.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How old are you, new bride?” asked another.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's not much to look at,” said a third, which was a shame, for with the
- paint washed off she must have been pretty though tired-looking.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was five o'clock before we went to the feast, all the women together,
- and all the men together, four or five at a table, and the bridegroom,
- without the absurd headgear, and his mother, in sober blue silk, came
- round at intervals and exhorted us to eat plenty.
- </p>
- <p>
- We had one little saucer each, a pair of chopsticks and a china spoon such
- as that with which my grandmother used to ladle out her tea, and they
- served for all the courses. It was lucky I had had nothing since seven in
- the morning, or I might not have felt equal to eating after I had seen the
- cooking and the washing-up arrangements. As it was, I was hungry enough
- not to worry over trifles. After she had sucked them audibly, my friend
- the Bible-woman helped me with her own chopsticks, and I managed to put up
- with that too. I tried a little wine. It was served in little bowls not as
- large as a very small salt-cellar, literally in thimblefuls, but one was
- too much for me. It tasted of fiery spirit and earth, and I felt my
- companion was not denying herself much when she proclaimed herself a
- teetotaller. What we ate heaven only knows, but much to my surprise I
- found it very good. Chinese when they have the opportunity are excellent
- cooks.
- </p>
- <p>
- The bride sat throughout the feast on the <i>k'ang</i>, her hands—three
- of her finger-nails were shielded with long silver shields—hidden
- under her lavender jacket and her plate piled before her, though etiquette
- required that she should refuse all food. They chaffed her and laughed at
- her, but she sat there with downcast eyes like a graven image. After the
- feast two or three men friends of the bridegroom were brought in, and to
- every one she had to rise and make an obeisance, and though the men and
- women hardly looked at or spoke to each other, it was evident that she was
- for this occasion a thing to be commented on, inspected and laughed at.
- She was bearing it very well, poor little girl, when Kan T'ai T'ai's cart—I
- was Kan T'ai T'ai—was announced, and we went home through the
- streets as the shades of evening were falling. I had fed bountifully and
- well, but the dissipation had worn me out, the airlessness of the rooms
- was terrible, and even the dust-laden air of the narrow street I drew into
- my lungs with a sigh of deep thankfulness. It was good to be in the free
- air again. Better still to remember, however I had railed against my fate
- at times, nothing that could ever happen to me would be quite as bad as
- the fate of the average Chinese woman.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, a new life was beginning for this girl in more ways than one. The
- bridegroom was going back to his business, that of a photographer in T'ai
- Yuan Fu, leaving his wife with his mother. She was to be sent to the
- school for married women opened by the missionaries, and, of course, her
- feet were to be unbound. Probably, I hope I do not do him an injustice,
- the bridegroom would not have objected to bound feet, but he did want an
- educated mother for his children, and the missionaries will take no woman
- with bound feet. They will do the best they can to retrieve the damage
- done, though she can never hope to be anything but a maimed cripple, but
- at least she in the future will be free from pain, into her darkened life
- will come a little knowledge and a little light, and certainly her
- daughters will have a happier life and a brighter outlook.
- </p>
- <p>
- Missions in China, if they are to do any good, are necessarily
- patriarchal. They look after their converts from the cradle to the grave.
- The kindergarten run by a Chinese girl under the maternal eye of young
- Miss Grace Maccomaughey was quite a pretty sight, with all the little tots
- in their quaint dresses of many colours and their hair done or their heads
- shaved in the absurd fashion which seems good to the proud Chinese parents—for
- Chinese parents are both proud and tender and loving, though their ways
- seem strange to us. But babies all the world over, yellow or black or
- white, are all lovable, and these babies at the kindergarten were
- delicious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beloved guest, beloved guest,” they sang in chorus when I came in and
- they were told to greet me. “Peace to thee, peace to thee.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And “Lao T'ai T'ai” they used to address me in shrill little voices as I
- went about the compound. Lao T'ai T'ai (I shouldn't like to swear I'd
- spelled it properly) means “Old lady”—that is, a woman of venerable
- years who is rich enough to keep a servant—and it was the first time
- in my life I had been so addressed, so I looked in the glass to see if I
- had developed grey hair or wrinkles—riding on a mule-pack would be
- enough to excuse anything—and then I remembered that if in doubt in
- China it is erring on the side of courtesy to consider your acquaintance
- old. I dare say to the children I was old. I remember as a very little
- girl a maiden aunt asking me how old I thought her, and I, knowing she was
- older than my mother, felt she must be quite tottery and suggested in all
- good faith she might be about ninety. I believe the lady had just attained
- her five and thirtieth year, and prided herself upon her youthful
- appearance. At any rate her attitude on this occasion taught me when
- guessing an age it is better to understate than to overestimate. At least
- in the West. Here in the East I was “Old lady” by courtesy.
- </p>
- <p>
- And they begin the important things of life early in China. At the
- kindergarten there were two little tots, a boy and a girl, engaged to be
- married. The boy was the son of one of the mission cooks and the girl was
- the daughter of his wife. He, a widower, sought a wife to look after his
- little boy, and he got this young widow cheap. Her price was thirty <i>tiaous</i>—that
- is, a little over one pound—and at first he said it was too much and
- he could not afford it, but when he heard she had a little girl he changed
- his mind and scraped together the money, for the child could be betrothed
- to his little son and save the expense of a wife later on.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were a quaint little pair, both in coats and trousers, shabby and
- old, evidently the children of poor people, and both with their heads
- shaven save for a tuft of hair here and there. The boy had his tufts cut
- short, while the girl's were allowed to grow as long as they would and
- were twisted into a plait. Such a happy little couple they were, always
- together, and in the games at the kindergarten when they had to pair these
- little ones always chose each other. Possibly the new wife in the home was
- a wise and discreet woman. She might be glad too at the thought that she
- need not part with her daughter. Anyhow I should think that in Fen Chou Fu
- in the future there would be one married couple between whom the sincerest
- affection will exist.
- </p>
- <p>
- I suppose Chinese husbands and wives are fond of each other occasionally,
- but the Chinaman looks upon wedded life from quite a different point of
- view from the Westerner. I remember hearing about a new-made widow who
- came to sympathise with a missionary recovering from a long illness. She
- was properly thanked, and then the missionary in her turn said in the
- vernacular:
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you too have suffered a bitterness. I am sorry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I?” incredulously, as much as to say, Who could think I had a sorrow?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, yes. You have lost your husband, haven't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Call that a bitterness?” smiled the relict cheerfully, and her would-be
- consoler felt the ground cut away beneath her feet.
- </p>
- <p>
- But perhaps that sympathiser was not quite as much dismayed as another
- lady who offered her condolences upon a similar occasion. The new-made
- widow was a gay old thing, and she remarked blandly, with a toss of her
- head:
- </p>
- <p>
- “All, we don't worry about things like that when we've got the Gospel!”
- which left that well-meaning teacher a little uncertain as to whether she
- had instructed her in the doctrines of her new faith quite correctly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Fen Chou Fu is a town that lends itself to reform, that asks for it. When
- I was there they had a magistrate who had been educated in Japan and was
- ready to back any measures for the good of the town. He was too much
- imbued with the spirit of modern thought to be a Christian, but he was
- full of admiration for many of the measures advocated by these
- enthusiastic young people from Oberlin College. There is a large
- Government school here—you may see the courtyards with their lily
- ponds and bridges from the wall—that has been in existence for
- hundreds of years, and this magistrate appealed to the missionaries to
- take it over and institute their modern methods. They might even, so he
- said, teach their own faith there. The only thing that stood in the way
- was want of funds, for though the school was endowed, money has still a
- way of sticking to the hands through which it passes in China. The
- missionaries were rather inclined, I think, to have hopes of his
- conversion, but I do not think it is very easy to convert the broad-minded
- man who sees the good in all creeds. This magistrate was anxious to help
- his people sunk in ignorance and was wise enough to use every means that
- came in his way, for he knows, knowing his own people, you will never
- Westernise a Chinaman. He will take all that is good—or bad—in
- the West that appeals to him, and he will mould it in his own way. This
- magistrate was building an industrial school for criminal boys close to
- the mission station and, more progressive than the West itself, he allowed
- his wife to sit on the bench beside him and try and sentence women proved
- guilty of crime.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V—“MISERERE DOMINE!”
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s I have said more
- than once, it seems to me the most intolerable thing in life would be to
- be a Chinese woman. I remember when first I began to write about China I
- asked a friend of mine to look over my work and he objected to my making
- such a fuss about the condition of the women.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, people will think you are a suffragette!” said he, searching for
- some term of obloquy that he felt could not possibly apply to me.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I am a suffragist, an ardent suffragist, realising that a woman is
- most valuable neither as an angel nor as a slave, but as a useful citizen,
- and I saw then that he possibly knew little about the condition of his own
- women, and probably absolutely nothing at all about the condition of the
- women of the race who swarmed around him. Those he met would be dumb, and
- at any rate no right-minded woman begins upon her wrongs to a stranger. In
- any country it would be bad taste, in China no words can tell what
- shocking bad taste. I had to seek further afield for my information, and I
- got it from the medical missions. Now I went to China with a strong
- prejudice against missionaries, and I found there many people who backed
- me up. And then it occurred to me that I had better go to a mission
- station and see what manner of people were these I was judging so hastily
- and so finally.
- </p>
- <p>
- I went. And what I saw made me sorry that Great Britain and America, to
- say nothing of Scandinavia, should be deprived of the services of these
- men and women who are giving so much to an alien people. Of course I know
- that many missionaries have the “call,” a “vocation” I suppose the
- Catholics would call it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a fine work,” said I, usually the unadmiring, “to teach these
- women, but I do not like coming in contact with them, however much I
- appreciate their virtues.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And the missionary girl looked at me pityingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you think,” said she, “we could come all this way to teach Chinese
- women reading, writing and arithmetic?”
- </p>
- <p>
- It seems to me a great thing to do; if it be only to teach them to wash,
- it is a great thing; but I who merely pitied would never have stayed there
- to better the condition of those unhappy women. To her and her comrades
- had come that mysterious call that comes to all peoples through all the
- ages, the Crying in the Wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make
- His paths straight,” and she thought more, far more, of it than I did of
- the undoubtedly good work I saw she was doing, saw as I never should have
- seen had I not gone in the ways untrodden by the tourist, or indeed by any
- white man.
- </p>
- <p>
- There are missionaries and missionaries, of course; there are even
- backsliders who, having learned the difficult tongue under the ægis of the
- missions, have taken up curio-buying or any other of the mercantile
- careers that loom so temptingly before the man who knows China; but in all
- classes of society there are backsliders, the great majority must not be
- judged by them. Neither must their narrowness be laid too mueh to heart
- when judging the missionary as a whole. Possibly only a fanatic can carry
- through whole-heartedly the work of a missionary at a remote station in
- China, and most fanatics are narrow. There are, too, the men and women who
- make it a business and a livelihood, who reckon they have house and income
- and position and servants in return for their services to the heathen, but
- they too are faithful and carry out their contracts. Having once seen the
- misery and poverty in which the great majority of Chinese dwell, I can say
- honestly that I think every mission station that I have seen is a centre
- from which radiates at least a hope of better things. They raise the
- standard of living, and though I care not what god a man worships, and
- cannot understand how any man can be brought to care, it is good that to
- these people sitting in darkness someone should point out that behind the
- world lies a great Force, God, Love, call it what you will, that is
- working for good. That the more educated Chinese has worked out a faith
- for himself, just as many in the West have done, I grant you, but still
- the majority of the people that I have seen sit in darkness and want help.
- From the missions they get it. Taken by and large, the Chinaman is a
- utilitarian person, and if the missions had not been helpful they would
- long ago have gone. And for the missionaries themselves—I speak of
- those in the outstations—not one, it seems to me, not one would stay
- among the Chinese unless he were sure that his God had sent him, for the
- life is hard, even for the rich missions there are many deprivations, and
- if therefore, being but human, they sometimes depict their God as merciful
- and loving in a way that seems small and petty, much must be forgiven
- them. They are doing their best.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is another side to it too for the West. These missionaries are
- conquering China by the system of peaceful penetration. They are
- persecuted, they suffer, are murdered often, but that does not drive them
- away. They come back again and again, and wherever the missionary succeeds
- in planting his foot the hatred to foreigners and things foreign, strong
- among the conservative Chinese, is weakened and finally broken down. China
- is a rich country, she is invaluable to the nations of the earth for
- purposes of trade, and though the missionary in many ways, if he were
- asked, would oppose the coming of the white man, he certainly is the
- pioneer.
- </p>
- <p>
- China is trying to reform herself, but the process is slow, and it seems
- to me in Shansi and in the parts of Chihli that I know it would be a long,
- long while before the good percolated to the proletariat, the Babylonish
- slaves, if it were not for the missionaries; and particularly do I admire
- the medical missionaries, for China is one huge sore.
- </p>
- <p>
- That is the word the woman doctor at Pao Ting Fu applied to it, and,
- attending her clinic of a morning, I was inclined to agree with her. Life
- is hard for everybody among the poor in China, but especially does it
- press upon the women. They came there into the clean sun-lit room and the
- reek of them went up to heaven—bald-headed, toothless old crones in
- wadded coats out of which all semblance of colour had long since passed,
- young girls and little children clad in the oldest of garments. There were
- so many with ingrowing eyelashes that the doctor had one particular day
- upon which she operated for this painful disfigurement, and she showed me
- how, by making a little nick—I'm afraid I can't use proper surgical
- terms—in the upper eyelid, she turned back the eyelashes and made
- them grow in the direction they are intended to grow, and saved the
- unfortunates' eyes. Why eyelashes should grow in in China I don't know.
- Perhaps it is my ignorance, but I have never heard of their behaving in
- such an unnatural fashion in any other part of the world, while in Pao
- Ting Fu this ailment seemed to be as common as influenza in London. Then
- there would be women with their mouths closed by sores, often so badly
- they could only live by suction, and more than once a new mouth had to be
- cut; there were cancerous growths—the woman depicted in the picture
- had waited twenty years before she could arrange to come under one hundred
- miles to the doctor—there were sores on the head, sores all over the
- body, all, I suppose, including the ingrowing eyelashes, caused by
- malnutrition, swollen glands, abscesses offensive and purulent, in fact in
- that clinic were collected such an array of human woes, ghastly, horrible,
- as well might make one wonder if the force behind all life could possibly
- be anything but devilish and cruel. Wherein could the good be found?
- Where?
- </p>
- <p>
- And yet there was good. Among these women moved the nurses. They were
- comely girls in blue coats and trousers, with their abundant black hair
- smoothly drawn back, neat white stockings and the daintiest of little
- shoes. Their delicate artistic hands used sponge and basin very capably,
- they were the greatest contrast to their patients, and yet they were truly
- Chinese, had sprung from the people to whom they now ministered, and one
- of them, though it was hardly observable, had an artificial foot. So had
- she suffered from foot-binding that her own had had to be amputated.
- </p>
- <p>
- Probably most of the ailments there treated were preventable, but worst of
- all were the bound feet and the ailments the women suffered from in
- consequence. It is not good manners to speak about a woman's feet, and the
- women themselves rarely refer to them, but naturally I was interested in
- the custom, and whenever the doctor got a “good” bound foot, which
- probably meant a very bad one, she sent over for me to come and see it.
- Anyone who has once seen a bound foot will never forget it. It always
- smelt abominably when first the bandages were taken off, and the first
- thing the nurses did was to provide a square kerosene tin of hot water in
- which to soak the foot well.
- </p>
- <p>
- Well washed, the feet might be looked at. Shansi especially is the home of
- the bound foot, most of the women have such small feet that they are
- confined for the greater part of their lives to the <i>k'ang</i>. I
- remember Dr Lewis in all seriousness saying that he thought on the whole a
- Chinese woman was better without her feet. And I'm inclined to think he
- was right. The toes, all except the big toe, are pressed back till they
- touch the heel, the bandage is put on and drawn tighter and tighter every
- day, and if the girl is healthy and big-boned, so much the worse for her.
- No matter the size of the girl, the foot must conform to the one standard.
- In Shansi when I was there the shoes were generally about four inches
- long, and I have taken shoes of that length off a tall and strapping woman
- who was tottering along with the aid of a stick. What she must have
- suffered to get her feet to that size is too terrible to imagine. She must
- have been suffering still for that matter. If the instep after the
- tightest binding still sticks up the girl's marriage chances are seriously
- interfered with, and then the mother or some feminine relative takes a
- meat-chopper and breaks the bone till she can bind the foot small enough.
- This information I got from the American lady who looks after the women in
- the mission in Fen Chou Fu; and at T'ai Yuan Fu the sister in the women's
- hospital added the gruesome detail that they sometimes pull off the little
- girls' toe-nails so that they may not interfere with the binding!
- </p>
- <p>
- And at the women's hospital at Pao Ting Fu I saw the finished product. The
- big toe stuck straight out, red, possibly because of the soaking in hot
- water—I never had courage to look at one unsoaked—and
- ghastly-looking, the other toes were pressed back against the heel and the
- heel went up and was exactly like the Cuban heels affected by smartly
- dressed women, only this time it had been worked in flesh and blood. The
- whole limb from the big toe to the knee was hard and immovable as stone.
- If you press ordinary flesh anywhere it pits, just yields a little, not so
- a Chinese woman's leg and foot. It is thin, perished, literally hard as
- marble. Once having seen a foot unbound, it is a wonder to me that any
- woman should walk at all. And yet they do. They hold out their arms and
- walk, balancing themselves, and they use a stick. Sometimes they walk on
- their heels, sometimes they try the toe, but once I realised what those
- bandages concealed it was a painful and dreadful thing to me to see a
- Chinese woman walking. In spite of the hardness of the flesh, or probably
- because of it, they get bad corns on the spot upon which they balance, and
- sores, very often tuberculous, eat into the foot.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0117.jpg" alt="0117 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0117.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0118.jpg" alt="0118 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0118.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- But the evil does not stop at the foot. In Shansi it seemed to me every
- woman's face was marked with the marks of patient suffering. Travelling I
- often got a glimpse of one peering out of a cart or litter at the
- foreigner, and that face invariably was patient, pallid and worn, for
- foot-binding brings no end of evils in its train. The doctor at Fen Chou
- Fu declared that nine-tenths of the women who came to him for treatment
- suffered from tuberculosis in some form or another, and this in a climate
- that in the winter must outrival in dryness Davos Platts. Not a few, too,
- develop spinal curvature low down in the back, and often because of the
- displacement of the organs they die in child-birth. A missionary in one of
- the little towns I passed through, a trained nurse, told me that when a
- woman suffered from what she (the woman) called leg-waist pains—the
- doctor called it osteomalacia—her case was hopeless, she could not
- give birth to a child. Often this nurse had been called in to such cases,
- and she could do nothing to help the suffering girl. She could only stand
- by and see her die. I could well believe these tales of suffering. In Fen
- Chou Fu and in Pao Ting Fu the women of the poorer classes freely walked
- the streets, and their crippled condition was patent to all eyes. But in
- some towns it is not considered seemly for any woman to be seen in the
- streets. Some reason established this custom long ago: the reason passes,
- but China is the most conservative of nations, and the custom remains. But
- the reason for foot-binding is not very clear. There is something sexual
- at the bottom of it, I believe, but why a sick and ailing woman should be
- supposed to welcome the embraces of her lord more readily than one
- abounding in health passes my understanding. Of course we remember that
- not so very long ago, in the reign of Victoria, practically the delicate
- woman who was always ailing was held up to universal admiration. Look at
- the swooning heroines of Dickens and Thackeray. But let no man put the
- compressed waist on the same plane as foot-binding. I have heard more than
- one man do so, but I unhesitatingly affirm they are wrong. Foot-binding is
- infinitely the worse crime. The pinched-in waist did not begin till the
- girl was at least well on in her teens, and it was only the extreme cases—and
- they did it of their own free will I presume—who kept up the
- pressure always. There was always the night for rest, whereas the Chinese
- women get no rest from torture.
- </p>
- <p>
- The missionaries at Fen Chou Fu, being very anxious to improve the status
- of the women, used to arrange to have lectures in their large hall to
- women only, and they raked the country-side for important people to
- address them on subjects that were, or rather that should be, of interest
- to women. They were not supposed to have anything to do with religion, but
- they discussed openly women's position, were told about hygiene and the
- care of children, and the magistrate's wife, she who had been educated in
- Japan, told them some home-truths about the position of women in China.
- </p>
- <p>
- “American women,” said she on one occasion, “go out into the world and
- help in the world's development. We Chinese stay at home and are dragged
- along by the men. The time has come when we must learn better things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But I looked one day at over seventy women of the richer classes assembled
- to listen to a young and enthusiastic Chinese with modern views on the
- position of women and their equality with men. He was passionate, he was
- eloquent, he was desperately in earnest, but it was very evident he spoke
- to deaf ears. I do not think that any one of those women grasped, or cared
- for that matter, what he was saying. In the heart of China woman is very
- far from being the equal of man. These women were pets and toys, and they
- came to the mission station probably because it was the fashionable form
- of amusement just then, but they listened to what was being said with deaf
- ears and minds incapable of understanding. They were gaily clad in silks
- and satins, richly embroidered; their hair when it was abundant was oiled
- and elaborately dressed and decorated with gold and silver pins, and when
- it was scanty was hidden under embroidered silken bands; there was not a
- skirt amongst them, that was left to the lecturer, their blue and green
- and brilliant red trousers were rather narrow, their feet were of the very
- tiniest even in Shansi, and their faces, worn and suffering under their
- paint and powder, were vacant. Some of them had brought their babies, and
- only when a child cried, and they cried fairly frequently, did those faces
- light up. That was something they really did understand.
- </p>
- <p>
- And yet that enthusiastic young scholar in his voluminous petticoats, with
- his hair cut in the modern fashion, went on lecturing to them on the
- rights of women, the position women ought to occupy!
- </p>
- <p>
- But the position of women! Toys or slaves are they, toys and slaves have
- been their mothers and their grandmothers since the days before the dawn
- of history, and very, very slowly is the idea of the possibility of better
- things percolating through to the masses in China. It will come, I
- suppose, because already there are Government schools for women, though
- they are few and far between, and in some places, so far has the desire
- for freedom gone, the girls have banded themselves into societies,
- declaring that rather than marry a man they have never seen they will
- commit suicide, and more than one has taken her own life. But in the parts
- of Shansi and Chihli where I was so much light has not yet penetrated. The
- wife and mother has influence because any living thing with which we are
- closely associated—even if it be but a little dog—must needs
- influence us, but all the same the Chinese women are as a rule mere
- chattels, dependent entirely upon their menfolk. Amongst the Chinese the
- five happinesses are: old age, a son, riches, official position and a
- moustache; so slight a thing is a woman that she does not come in in this
- connection.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far am I,” disdainfully
- proclaimed a Chinese teacher, “above my wife.” And he only spoke as if
- stating a self-evident fact, a thing that could not be questioned. “How
- could she be my equal?” Just as I might have objected to being put on the
- same plane as my mule or my little dog. Indeed I doubt very much whether
- he gave the same consideration to his wife as I would do to my little dog,
- who is much beloved.
- </p>
- <p>
- This is not to say, of course, that the men don't consider the women. They
- do.
- </p>
- <p>
- I remember the gate-keeper at Pao Ting Fu mission paying up for his
- daughter's schooling. He was a jovial old soul, so old that I was
- surprised to hear he had a mother.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Short am I?” said he cheerfully. “Short? Oh, that dollar and a half!” He
- paused to consider the matter, then added: “And I was thinking about
- borrowing a dollar from you. My mother's dying, and I want to buy her a
- skirt! Must be prepared, you know!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The old lady, said Miss Newton, had probably never owned such a luxury as
- a skirt in her life, but that was her son's way of being good to her, for
- the people have a proverb to the effect that the most important thing in
- life is to be buried well, an idea that isn't entirely unknown in Western
- and more enlightened lands. Poor old lady, whose one and only skirt came
- to her to be buried in, or perhaps it would be taken off before she was
- buried, for the Chinese are a careful people. I remember one frugal man
- who celebrated the funeral of his mother and the marriage of his son at
- the same time, so that the funeral baked meats did for the marriage feast,
- and the same musicians did for both. The coffin, of heavy black wood, tall
- as a mantelpiece, stood in the yard, with the eldest son and his wife clad
- in white as mourners, and the rest of the company made merry in the house
- over the bridal. It was the most exquisite piece of thrift, but the
- Chinaman is <i>par excellence</i> an economist.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was in Pao Ting Fu that I met the only woman who made open complaint
- against the position of women, and she only did it because, poor thing,
- she was driven to it.
- </p>
- <p>
- She slipped through the mission compound gate while the gate-keeper was
- looking the other way, a miserable, unkempt woman with roughened hair and
- maimed feet. Her coat and trousers of the poorest blue cotton were old and
- soiled, and the child she carried in her arms was naked save for a little
- square of blue cotton tied round his body in front. She was simply a woman
- of the people, deadly poor where all just escape starvation, young and
- comely where many are unattractive, and she stood under the shade of the
- trees watching eagerly the mission family and their guest at breakfast on
- the porch! It was a June morning, the sunshine that would be too fierce
- later on now at 7 a.m. was golden, and a gentle breeze just whispered
- softly in the branches that China—even Pao Ting Fu—in the
- early summer morning was a delightful place.
- </p>
- <p>
- But eager watching eyes glued to every mouthful are distinctly
- disquieting, and in China, the land of punctilious etiquette, are rude.
- Besides, she had no business to be there, and the doctor's wife turned and
- spoke to her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What custom is this?” said she, using the vernacular, “and how did you
- get in here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I ran past”—ran, save the mark, with those poor broken cramped feet—“when
- the gate-keeper was not looking. And it's not a day's hunger I have. For
- weeks when we have had a meal we have not known where the next was coming
- from.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you have a husband?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And he was rich,” assented the woman, “but he has gambled it all away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was quite a likely story. Another woman working on the compound said it
- was true. She had a bad husband—<i>hi yah!</i> a very bad husband.
- He beat her, often he beat her. Sometimes perhaps it was her fault,
- because she was bad-tempered. Who would not be bad-tempered with maimed
- feet, an empty stomach and two little hungry children? But often he beat
- her for no reason at all. And everyone knows that a Chinese husband has a
- perfect right to beat his wife. That he refrains from so doing is an act
- of grace on his part, but a woman of herself is merely his chattel. She
- has no rights.
- </p>
- <p>
- The hospital quilted bed-covers—<i>pel wos</i>, they called them—had
- to be unripped and washed. The pay was twenty-five <i>t'ung tzus</i> a day
- and keep yourself. One hundred and thirty <i>t'ung tzus</i> went to the
- dollar, and 10-35 dollars went to the sovereign at that time, so that the
- work could not be considered overpaid; but this was China, and the women
- were apparently rising up out of the ground and clamouring for it. It was
- evidently looked upon as quite a recreation to sit under the trees on the
- grass in the mission compound and gossip and unpick quilts. The new
- recruit joined them and spent a happy day, sure of food for herself and
- her children for that day at least—not food perhaps such as we would
- appreciate, but at least a sufficiency of millet porridge.
- </p>
- <p>
- That day and the next she worked, and then on the third day at midday she
- went away for her meal and did not come back till after two o'clock in the
- afternoon. The doctor's wife was reproachful.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have been away for over three hours. Why is this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was a true Chinese and found it difficult to give a direct answer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have been talking to my mother,” said she, rousing wrath where she
- might have gained sympathy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What excuse is this?” said the doctor's wife. “You go away, and when I
- ask you why, you tell me you have been talking to your mother! Your mother
- should have more sense than to keep you from your work!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But my husband has sold me!” protested the culprit and then we saw that
- her face was swollen with crying; “and I am a young woman and I don't know
- what to do when my husband sells me. He keeps the children and he sells
- me, and Tsao, the man who has bought me, is a bad man,” and dropping down
- to the ground she let the tears fall on to the work in her hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am young and so I don't know what to do.” It was the burden of her
- song. It may be she is wailing still, for the story was unfinished when I
- left. She was young and she didn't know what to do. She would not have
- minded leaving her husband if only the man to whom she had been sold had
- been a better man, but he bore a worse reputation if anything than her
- husband, and ignorant, unlearned in all things of this world as she was,
- she and the women round her knew exactly what her fate would be. Tsao
- would sell her when he tired of her, and her next purchaser would do
- likewise, and as she gets older and her white teeth decay and her bright
- eyes fade and her comeliness wanes her money value will grow less and
- less, and beating and starvation will be her portion till death comes as a
- merciful release. But, as she kept repeating pathetically, she is young,
- and death is the goal at the end of a weary, weary, heartbreaking road.
- </p>
- <p>
- For her husband was quite within his rights. He could sell her. It may be,
- of course, he will be swayed by public opinion, and public opinion is
- against the disposing of a wife after this fashion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let her complain to the official,” suggested my assurance.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the wise women who knew rose up in horror at the depths of ignorance I
- was disclosing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go to the yamen and complain of her husband!”
- </p>
- <p>
- It is no crime for a man to sell his wife, but it is a deadly crime for a
- woman to speak evil of her husband! She was not yet handed over. All he
- would have to do would be to deny it, and then she would be convicted of
- this crime and to her other ills would be added the wrath of the official.
- No, something better than that must be thought of.
- </p>
- <p>
- She had been sold for a hundred <i>tiaou</i>—something under four
- pounds—and when the money was paid she would have to go to her new
- master, far away from all her friends.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Hi yah!</i>” said the other women. “What a bad man!” So public opinion
- was against it!
- </p>
- <p>
- It would do no good to buy her freedom unless the purchaser were prepared
- to take upon himself the conduct of her future life. A woman must belong
- to somebody in China; she is, except in very exceptional cases and among
- the very advanced, considered incapable of guiding her own life, and pay
- this and the man would still regard her as his wife and sell her again.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then a woman wise with wisdom of the people arose.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is only one thing to be done,” said she; “you must pretend you know
- nothing about it, and when Tsao comes, and you are sold, then make an
- excuse and run to the yamen. It may be the official will help, for it is a
- wicked thing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Run to the yamen!” on feet on which she could just totter. But the wise
- woman had taken that into consideration.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mark well the way so you may hide in the turnings.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Such a forlorn, pitiful little hope! But with it she had to be content,
- and that night she held her peace and pretended she did not know the fate
- that hung over her, and when I left she was still ripping bed-covers with
- the other women. She had had no hand in bringing about her own fate, for
- she did not choose this man. She had never seen him till she was handed
- over on her marriage day by her parents.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What,” said the women at one place when a new missionary came to them,
- “forty and not married! What freedom! How did you manage it! What good
- fortune!”
- </p>
- <p>
- In China there is no respectable word, so I am told, to denote a bachelor,
- and there was almost never, at least under the old regime, such a thing as
- an old maid. Every woman must belong to someone, and few and far between
- are the families that can afford to keep unmarried daughters, so the women
- regard as eminently fortunate those foreign women they come across,
- missionary or otherwise, who are apparently free to guide their own lives.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course the average husband would no more think of selling his wife than
- would an Englishman, but, unlike the Englishman, he knows that he has the
- right to do so should he so please, even as he has the right of life and
- death over her and his children. She is his chattel, to be faithful to her
- would simply be foolishness.
- </p>
- <p>
- They tell a story of an angry father found digging a hole in which he
- proposed to bury his son alive. That son had been insolent, and it was a
- terrible thing to have an insolent son. His mother wept, but to her tears
- the father paid no heed. A stranger passed along and questioned the little
- company, and finding in his heart pity for the woman and the lad, cast
- about how he might help them. He did not set about it as we of the West
- would have done.
- </p>
- <p>
- He commiserated with the father. It was a terrible thing to have an
- insolent son. Undoubtedly he deserved death. But it would be a bad thing
- to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet.
- </p>
- <p>
- That was provided for, said the irate parent. He had two other sons.
- </p>
- <p>
- That was well! That was well! And of course they had sons?
- </p>
- <p>
- No, they were young. They had no sons yet.
- </p>
- <p>
- A-a-ah! And suppose anything happened by which they both should die?
- </p>
- <p>
- The stranger let that sink in. He had struck the right chord. It would be
- a terrible thing to have no son to worship at the ancestral tablet—to
- think that he by his own act——
- </p>
- <p>
- Chinese reasoning prevailed, and the son's life was spared.
- </p>
- <p>
- And yet the Chinese are fond of their children and, according to their
- lights, good to their wives. It is that under the patriarchal system
- children and women—a woman is always a child, a very ignorant child
- as a rule—have no rights. They are dependent upon the good will of
- their owners.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the woman sitting waiting to see if her husband would complete the
- bargain and sell her had no rights. She was just a chattel in the eye of
- the law. And there was none to help. Miserere Domine! It was just possible
- public opinion would save her. It was her only hope. Miserere Domine!
- Miserere Domine!
- </p>
- <p>
- In Fen Chou Fu the missionaries had started an adult school for women.
- First it was started, as they themselves put it, to teach the Gospel, but
- then wisely they extended it and taught reading, writing and arithmetic,
- and very eager indeed were the pupils. It is only fair to say that very
- often husbands, or possibly fathers-in-law—for a woman belongs to
- the head of her husband's family, or at least owes allegiance to him—aided
- and abetted in every way, and when necessary sent the pupils twenty and
- thirty miles in carts and in litters from away in the mountains to attend.
- One woman with four little children, all under five, with another coming,
- was a most eager pupil. Her children were sent to the kindergarten, which
- is in charge of a young Chinese teacher educated by the missionaries.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again I do not say the Chinese are not doing something to ameliorate the
- condition of their women. I can only speak of what I saw, and what I saw
- was, here in Shansi, the wives of the most miserable peasants sunk in
- ignorance and hardly able to crawl from the <i>k'angs</i> on which they
- spent their lives. The men do the cooking because the women are incapable,
- and the mortality among the children is terrible. A doctor told me that
- very often he had attended a woman at the birth of her thirteenth or
- fourteenth child and only one or two would be living!
- </p>
- <p>
- I don't know how many wives or concubines a man is allowed. Only the first
- one has any standing, and the number of the others is probably limited by
- his means. I remember hearing of one man, a Mr Feng, who had just married
- his second wife to another man because she was making his life too
- miserable for him. This was the man's side of the story; I had heard the
- woman's the last time. I wonder how the case is put on these occasions.
- Does a man say he is parting with the lady with extreme regret because the
- climate does not suit her, or because his first wife does not like her, or
- because a sudden reverse of fortune has compelled him to reduce his
- household? He surely would never have given the real reason. My friend Mr
- Farrer waxes enthusiastic over things Chinese, but I must say what I have
- seen of their domestic life repels me, and I am rather inclined to agree
- with a missionary of my acquaintance—a bachelor though—that it
- would give nervous prostration to a brazen statue.
- </p>
- <p>
- There can be little happiness where there is ignorance, and the majority
- of the women of Shansi anyhow are the ignorant slaves of ignorant slaves.
- Miserere Domine!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VI—BY MOUNTAIN AND RIVER
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>etting out on a
- long journey by road, moving along slowly, at the rate of thirty miles a
- day, I find I do not have the end in view in my mind all the time. I do
- subconsciously, of course, or I would never get on at all, but I take a
- point a couple of days ahead and concentrate on getting there. Having
- arrived so far, I am so pleased with the performance I can concentrate on
- the next couple of days ahead. So I pass on comfortably, with the
- invigorating feeling of, something accomplished.
- </p>
- <p>
- Fen Chou Fu, then, was one of my jumping-off places.
- </p>
- <p>
- And at Fen Chou Fu my muleteers began to complain. Looked at from a
- Western point of view, they ought to have complained long before, but
- their complaint was not what I expected. They sent my interpreter to say
- we were going the wrong way. This road would lead us out into a great bare
- place of sand. When the wind blew it would raise the sand in great clouds
- that would overwhelm us, and if the clouds gathered in the sky we should
- not be able to see the sun, we would not know in which direction to go and
- we should perish miserably. And having supplied me with this valuable and
- sinister information they stood back to watch it sink in.
- </p>
- <p>
- It didn't have the damping and depressing effect they doubtless expected.
- To begin with, I couldn't believe in a Chinese sky where you couldn't see
- the sun. The clouds might gather, but a few hours would suffice to
- disperse them, in my experience, and as for losing ourselves in the sand—well,
- I couldn't believe it possible. Always in China, where-ever I had been,
- there had been plenty of people of whom to ask the way, and though every
- man's radius was doubtless short, still at every yard there was somebody.
- It was like an endless chain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Repeat, please,” said he, according to the approved formula.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Won't they go?” I felt I had better have the matter clear.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You say 'Go,' mus' go. You fear—you no go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- If I feared and wouldn't go on, I grasped, the money I paid them would be
- forfeit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I must go. I am not afraid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They say you go by Hsi An Fu. That be ploper.” And the listening
- muleteers smiled at me blandly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I cannot go by Hsi An Fu because of White Wolf.” I did not say that
- also it would be going round two sides of a triangle because that would
- not appeal to the Chinese mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They not knowing White Wolf,” said Mr Wang, shaking his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I know White Wolf,” I said, departing a little from the truth, “and
- I am going across the river to Sui Te Chou.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You say 'Go,'” said Mr Wang sorrowfully, “mus' go,” and he looked at the
- muleteers, and the muleteers looked at him sorrowfully and went off the
- verandah sorrowfully to prepare for the lonely road where there would be
- no people of whom to ask the way, only sand and no sun.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was plenty of sun when we started. It was a glorious summer morning
- when my little caravan went out of the northern gate into the mountains
- that threatened the town. It was unknown China now, China as she was in
- the time of the Cæsars, further back still in the time of the Babylonish
- kings, in the days before the first dynasty in Egypt. Out through the
- northern gate we went, by the clay-walled northern suburb, past great
- ash-heaps like little mountain ranges, the refuse of centuries, their
- softly rounded sides now tinged with the green of springtime, and almost
- at once my caravan was at the foot of the hills—hills carved into
- terraces by the daily toil of thousands, but looking as if they had been
- so carved by some giant hand. As we entered them as hills they promptly
- disappeared, for the road was sunken, and high over our heads rose the
- steep clay walls, shutting out all view save the bright strip of blue sky
- above.
- </p>
- <p>
- I here put it on record—I believe I have done it before, but it
- really cannot be repeated too often—that as a conveyance a mule
- litter leaves much to be desired. Sitting up there on my bedding among my
- cushions, with James Buchanan beside me, I was much more comfortable than
- I should have been in a Peking cart, but also I was much more helpless. A
- driver did take charge of the Peking cart, but the gentleman who sometimes
- led my mule litter more often felt that things were safer in the charge of
- the big white mule in front, and when the way was extremely steep or rough
- he abandoned it entirely to its discretion. The missionaries had told me
- whenever I came to a bad place to be sure and get out, because the Chinese
- mules are not surefooted enough to be always trusted. They are quite
- likely at a bad place to slip and go over. This was a cheering reflection
- when I found myself at the bad place abandoned to the tender mercies of
- those animals. The mule in the lead certainly was a capable beast, but
- again and again, as I told Mr Wang, I would have preferred that the
- muleteers should not put quite so much faith in him. I learned to say
- “B-r-rrr, b-r-r-rrr!” when I wanted him to stop, but I did not like to say
- it often, because I felt in a critical moment I might seriously hamper him
- to my own disadvantage. I told Mr Wang I was to be lifted out when we came
- to bad places, but that too was hardly practicable, for we came to many
- places that I certainly could not have negotiated on my own feet, and how
- the mules got a cumbersome litter down or up them passes my understanding.
- Thinking it over, the only advice I can give to anyone who wishes to
- follow in my footsteps is to shut his eyes as I did and trust to the mule.
- And we went down some places that were calculated to take the curl out of
- my hair.
- </p>
- <p>
- James Buchanan was a great comfort to me under these circumstances. He
- nestled down beside me—he had recovered from his accident before we
- left Fen Chou Fu—and he always assured me that everything would be
- all right. One thing he utterly declined to do, and that was to walk with
- the servants. I used to think it would be good for his health, but the
- wisdom of the little Pekinese at the British American Tobacco Factory had
- sunk in deep and he declined to trust himself with them unless I walked
- too, when he was wild with delight. Put out by himself, he would raise a
- pitiful wail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Buchanan declines,” Mr Wang would say sententiously, and he would be
- lifted baek into the litter by my master of transport as if he were a
- prince of the blood at least. And if anyone thinks I make an absurd fuss
- about a little dog, I must remind him that I was entirely alone among an
- alien people, and the little dog's affection meant a tremendous deal to
- me. He took away all sense of loneliness. Looking back, I know now I could
- not have gone on, this book would never have been written, if it had not
- been for James Buchanan.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roughly the way to the Yellow River is through a chain of mountains,
- across a stony plateau in the centre of which is situated Yung Ning Chou,
- quite a busy commercial city, and across another chain of mountains
- through which the river forces its way. When first I entered the ditch in
- the loess my objective was Yung Ning Chou. I looked no farther. I wanted
- to get to that town in which seven Scandinavian missionaries in twenty
- years had not effected a single convert. The cliffs frowned overhead, and
- the effect to me was of wandering along an extremely stony way with many
- pitfalls in it to the chiming of many mule bells and an unceasing shouting
- of “<i>Ta, ta!</i>”—that is, “Beat, beat!”—a threat by which
- the muleteer exhorts his animals to do their best. Generally speaking, I
- couldn't see the man who had charge of me because he was some way behind
- and the tilt shut him from my view. Except for knowing that he was
- attending to his job and looking after me, I don't know that I pined to
- look upon him. His appearance was calculated to make me feel I had not
- wakened from a nightmare. Sometimes he wore a dirty rag over his head, but
- just as often he went in his plain beauty unadorned—that is to say,
- with all the front part of his head shaven and the back a mass of wild
- coarse black hair standing out at all angles. They had cut off his queue
- during the reforming fever at T'ai Yuan Fu and I presume he was doing the
- best he could till it should grow again. Certainly it was an awe-inspiring
- headpiece.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0135.jpg" alt="0135 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0135.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0136.jpg" alt="0136 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0136.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- And always we progressed to the clashing of bells, for on every possible
- point on the trappings of the four mules and the donkey that made up the
- caravan and on every available point on the harness of every mule and
- donkey that passed us was a brass bell. For, for all my muleteers had
- objected to going this way, it was a caravan route to the West, and it was
- seldom we did not see someone on the road. Here in this ditch in the loess
- I realised the stern necessity for these bells, for often the way was
- narrow and when we could hear another caravan coming we could make
- arrangements to pass or to allow them to pass. There were many caravans of
- ragged camels, and to these my animals objected with all the spirit a life
- on the roads had still left in them. When we met a string of them at close
- quarters in the loess my white mule in the lead nearly had hysterics, and
- his feelings were shared, so I judged by the behaviour of the litter, by
- his companion behind, and they both endeavoured to commit suicide by
- climbing the bank, having no respect whatever for my feelings.
- </p>
- <p>
- On these occasions, with clenched teeth and concentrated energy, my
- muleteer addressed himself to that leading mule:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now! Who's your mother? You may count yourself as dead!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The mule evidently felt this was serious and made a desperate endeavour to
- get a little higher, and his attendant became sarcastic.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Call yourself a mule! Call yourself a lord, sir!”
- </p>
- <p>
- By the jangling of the bells and the yells of the rest of the company I
- knew that the other animals felt equally bad, and more than once I saw my
- luckless interpreter, who evidently was not much of a hand at sitting on a
- pack, ruefully picking himself up and shaking the dust from his person,
- his mule having flung him as a protest against the polluting of the road
- by a train of camels.
- </p>
- <p>
- The camels march along with a very supercilious air, but mules, horses and
- donkeys all fear them so much that there are special inns for them and
- they are supposed only to travel by night, but this rule is more honoured,
- I imagine, in the breach than in the observance. Most parts of the road I
- don't see that any caravan could pass along at night. The special inns do
- not present any difference to my unprejudiced eyes from the discomfort of
- an ordinary mule and donkey inn. I stopped at one one day in the loess for
- tiffin, and it consisted of a courtyard round which were rooms (<i>yaos</i>)
- that were simply caves with the mouths bricked up and doors in them.
- Inside, the caves were dark and airless, with for all furniture the
- universal, <i>k'ang</i>; a fireplace is either in the middle or at one of
- the ends, and the flues underneath carry the hot air under the <i>k'ang</i>
- to warm it. I have never before or since seen such miserable
- dwelling-places as these <i>yaos</i>, and in the loess country I saw
- hundreds of them, inhabitated by thousands of people. Wu Ch'eng
- particularly commended itself to my notice because here I first realised
- that in expecting a room to myself I was asking too much of the country.
- </p>
- <p>
- We crossed the mountain pass the first day out of Fen Chou Fu. Steep it
- was, steep as the roof of a house, and we scrambled down the other side
- and, just as the dusk was falling, we came to Wu Ch'eng, a village mostly
- of <i>yaos</i> in the mountain-side. Wu Ch'eng, where hundreds of people
- live and die, was short of most things that make life worth living: water
- was very scarce indeed, and there were no eggs there. It was necessary
- that our little company should move on with what speed we might. Also the
- inn only had one room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The <i>k'ang</i> is large,” said my interpreter, as if he thought that a
- woman who would come out on this journey would not mind sharing that <i>k'ang</i>
- with all the other guests, the innkeeper and his servants. It was rather
- large. I looked into an earthen cave the end of which, about thirty feet
- away, I could hardly make out in the dim light. There were great cobwebs
- hanging from the ceiling—dimly I saw them by the light that filtered
- through the dirty paper that did duty for a window—and the high <i>k'ang</i>
- occupied the whole length of the room, leaving a narrow passage with
- hard-beaten earth for a floor about two feet wide between the <i>k'ang</i>
- and the left-hand wall. It was about as uninviting a room as I have ever
- seen. Also it was clearly impossible that Buchanan and I should turn out
- the rest of the company, so I decreed that I should have it to myself for
- half-an-hour for the purposes of washing and changing, for whieh privilege
- I paid about twenty cash, roughly a ha'penny, and then we slept in the
- litter, as we did on many other occasions, outside in the yard among the
- donkeys and mules. The last thing I saw was the bright stars peeping down
- at me, and the last thing I heard was the mules munching at their
- well-earned chaff, and I wakened to the same stars and the same sounds,
- for early retiring is conducive to early rising, and yet the muleteers
- were always before me and were feeding their beasts. Always I went through
- the same routine. I went to bed despairing and disgusted and a little
- afraid. I slept like the dead, if I slept outside, and I wakened to watch
- the sun rise and renew my hopes.
- </p>
- <p>
- There are hundreds, probably thousands, of villages like Wu Ch'eng in
- China. The winter in Shansi in the mountains is Arctic and no words can
- describe what must be the sufferings of these people; especially must the
- women suffer, for the poorest peasant binds his daughter's feet, his wife
- can hardly crawl. In Chihli you may see the women tottering round on their
- stumps grinding the corn, in Shansi lucky is the woman who can do so much.
- The ordinary peasant woman is equal to nothing but a little needlework, if
- she have anything to sew, or to making a little porridge, if she can do so
- without moving off the <i>k'ang</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- The getting something for the men to cook must be a hard job. Potatoes are
- sold singly, other vegetables are cut in halves or quarters, a fowl is
- always sold by the joint. There may be people who do buy a whole fowl, but
- they are probably millionaires. I suppose a whole section of a community
- could not possibly exist on other folks' old clothes, but that is how the
- people of this part of Shansi looked as if they were clothed. They had not
- second-hand clothes or third-hand, they were apparently the remnants that
- the third buyer could find no use for.
- </p>
- <p>
- I shall never forget on one occasion seeing a ragged scarecrow bearing on
- the end of a pole a dead dog, not even an ordinary dead dog, but one all
- over sores, a most disgustingly diseased specimen. I asked Mr Wang what he
- was carrying that dog away for and that young gentleman looked at me in
- surprise. He would never get to the bottom of this foolish foreigner.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For eat,” said he simply!
- </p>
- <p>
- The people of the loess cannot afford to waste anything save the health of
- their women. A dog, a wonk, shares the scavenging work of the Chinese
- towns with the black and white crows, and doubtless the citizens do not
- care so much for eating them as they would a nice juicy leg of mutton, but
- they would no more throw away a wonk that had found life in a Chinese town
- too hard and simply died than I would yesterday's leg of mutton in favour
- of the tender chicken I prefer.
- </p>
- <p>
- This, the first camel inn I particularly noticed, was not far from Fen
- Chou Fu, and they told me how many years ago one of the medical
- missionaries touring the country found there the innkeeper's wife with one
- of her bound feet in a terrible condition. She had a little baby at her
- breast and she was suffering horribly—the foot was gangrenous. The
- doctor was troubled and puzzled as well. He had no appliances and no
- drugs, but left as they were, mother and baby, already half starved, were
- doomed. Therefore, like a brave man as he was, he took his courage in both
- hands, made a saw of a piece of scrap iron from an American packing-case
- and with this rude instrument and no anaesthetics he amputated that foot.
- And the woman survived, lived to see her child grow up, was living when I
- passed along that way, and I sat in her courtyard and had my tiffin of
- hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice washed down by tea. It was her son's
- courtyard then, possibly that very baby's whose life the missionary had
- saved by saving his mother's. For the Chinese have no milch cows or goats
- and know little about feeding infants artificially.
- </p>
- <p>
- Always at midday the litter was lifted off the mules' backs, my table and
- chair were produced from some recess among the packs, my blue cotton
- tablecloth was spread and Tsai Chih Fu armed himself with a frying-pan in
- which to warm the rice and offered it to me along with hard-boiled eggs of
- dubious age. The excellent master of transport was a bad cook, and it is
- not an exhilarating diet when it is served up three times a day for weeks
- with unfailing regularity. I never grew so weary of anything in my life,
- and occasionally I tried to vary it by buying little scones or cakes
- peppered with sesame seed, but I'm bound to say they were all nasty. It
- always seemed to me that an unfair amount of grit from the millstones had
- got into the flour. Chinese are connoisseurs in their cooking, but not in
- poor little villages in the mountains in Western Shansi, where they are
- content if they can fill their starving stomachs. To judge Chinese taste
- by the provisions of these mountaineers is as if we condemned the food of
- London, having sampled only those shops where a steak pudding can be had
- for fourpence.
- </p>
- <p>
- And all these little inns, these underground inns, very often had the most
- high-sounding names. “The Inn of Increasing Righteousness”—I hope it
- was, there was certainly nothing else to recommend it; but the “Inn of Ten
- Thousand Conveniences” really made the greatest claim upon my faith. The
- Ritz or the Carlton could hardly have claimed more than this cave with the
- hard-beaten earth for the floor of its one room and for all furnishing the
- <i>k'ang</i> where landlord and guests slept in company.
- </p>
- <p>
- Yet all these uncomfortable inns between Fen Chou Fu and Yung Ning Chou
- were thronged. The roads outside were littered with the packs of the mules
- and donkeys, and inside the courtyard all was bustle, watering and feeding
- the animals and attending to the wants of the men, who apparently took
- most of their refreshment out of little basins with chopsticks and when
- they were very wealthy, or on great occasions, had tea without milk or
- sugar—which, of course, is the proper way to drink it—out of
- little handleless cups. I don't know that they had anything else to drink
- except hot water. I certainly never saw them drinking anything
- intoxicating, and I believe there are no public-houses in China proper.
- </p>
- <p>
- Every now and then the way through the loess widened a little and there
- was an archway with a tower above it and a crowded village behind. Always
- the villages were crowded. There was very often one or perhaps two trees
- shading the principal street, but other hints of garden or greenery there
- were none. The shops—open stalls—were packed together. And in
- these little villages it is all slum: there is no hint of country life,
- and the street was full of people, ragged people, mostly men and children.
- The men were in rags in all shades of blue, and blue worn and washed—at
- least possibly the washing is doubtful, we will say worn only—to dun
- dirt colour. It was not picturesque, but filthy, and the only hint of
- luxury was a pipe a yard long with a very tiny bowl which when not in use
- hung round their necks or stuck out behind from under their coats. Round
- their necks too would be hung a tiny brass tobacco box with hieroglyphics
- upon it which contained the evil-smelling compound they smoked. Sometimes
- they were at work in their alfresco kitchens—never have I seen so
- much cooking done in the open air—sometimes they were shoeing a
- mule, sometimes waiting for customers for their cotton goods, or their
- pottery ware, or their unappetising cooked stuff, and often they were
- nursing babies, little blaek-eyed bundles of variegated dirty rags which
- on inspection resolved themselves into a coat and trousers, whatever the
- age or the sex of the baby. And never have I seen so many family men. The
- Chinaman is a good father and is not ashamed to carry his baby. At least
- so I judge.
- </p>
- <p>
- Only occasionally was a woman or two to be seen, sitting on their
- doorsteps gossiping in the sun or the shade, according to the temperature.
- Men and women stared at the foreign woman with all their eyes, for
- foreigners are rather like snow in June in these parts, and my coming made
- me feel as if a menagerie had arrived in the villages so great and
- interested were the crowds that assembled to look at and comment on me.
- </p>
- <p>
- After we passed through the loess the track was up a winding ravine cut in
- past ages by the agency of water. From five hundred to a thousand feet
- above us towered the cliffs and at their feet trickled a tiny drain of
- water, not ankle-deep, that must once have come down a mighty flood to cut
- for itself such a way through the eternal hills. For this, unlike the road
- through the loess, is a broad way where many caravans might find room. And
- this trickle was the beginnings of a tributary to the Yellow River. Along
- its winding banks lay the caravan route.
- </p>
- <p>
- And many caravans were passing. No place in China is lonely. There were
- strings of camels, ragged and losing their coats—second-hand goods,
- Mark Twain calls them—there were strings of pack-mules and still
- longer strings of little donkeys, and there were many men with bamboos
- across their shoulders and loads slung from either end. Some of these men
- had come from Peking and were bound for far Kansu, the other side of
- Shensi; but as I went on fewer and fewer got the loads from Kansu, most of
- them stopped at Yung Ning Chou, the last walled town of any size this side
- of the river. Always, always through the loess, through the deep ravines,
- across the mountain passes, across the rocky plateau right away to the
- little mountain city was the stream coming and going, bearing Pekingese
- and Cantonese goods into the mountains, and coming back laden with wheat,
- which is the principal product of these places.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ask the drivers where they were going, camel, mule or donkey, and the
- answer was always the same, they were going east or west, which, of
- course, we could see for ourselves. There was no possibility of going any
- other way. Those in authority knew whither they were bound, but the
- ignorant drivers knew nothing but the direction. At least that is one
- explanation, the one I accepted at the time, afterwards I came to know it
- is a breach of good manners to exhibit curiosity in China, and quite
- likely my interpreter simply greeted the caravans and made his own answer
- to my question. It satisfied or at least silenced me and saved my face.
- </p>
- <p>
- One thing, however, grew more and more noticeable: the laden beasts were
- coming east, going west the pack-saddles were empty. Fear was upon the
- merchants and they would not send goods across the great river into
- turbulent Shensi.
- </p>
- <p>
- Already, so said my interpreter, and I judged the truth of his statement
- by the empty pack-saddles, they were fearing to send goods into the
- mountains at all. It was pleasant for me. I began to think. I had only
- Buchanan to consult, and he had one great drawback, he always agreed that
- what I thought was likely to be right. It is an attitude of mind that I
- greatly commend in my friends and desire to encourage, but there are
- occasions in life when a little perfectly disinterested advice would be
- most acceptable, and that I could not get. Badly I wanted to cross Asia,
- but I should not cross Asia if I were stopped by <i>tufeis</i>, which is
- the local term for robbers. Were these rumours anything, or were they
- manufactured by my interpreter? There were the warnings of the
- missionaries, and there were the empty pack-saddles, and the empty
- pack-saddles spoke loudly. Still I thought I might go on a little farther,
- and James Buchanan encouraged me.
- </p>
- <p>
- Truly the way to the great river through the mountains was hard. Taking
- all the difficulties in the lump, it would seem impossible to overcome
- them, but taking them one by one I managed it. And not the least of my
- troubles were the dogs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Here in the mountains was a very handsome breed of large white dogs with
- long hair, at least I am sure they would have been handsome if they had
- been well fed and well eared for. If it had not been for Buchanan, whose
- heart it would have broken, I should certainly have got a puppy to bring
- home with me. These dogs one and all waged war on my little friend, who
- had a great idea of his own importance and probably aggravated the ill-fed
- denizens of the inn-yards. He would go hectoring down a yard, head up,
- white plume waving, with a sort of “Well, here we are! Now what have you
- got to say for yourselves?” air about him, and in two seconds more a big
- white scarecrow of a dog would have him by the neck, dragging him across
- the yard, designing to slay him behind the drinking troughs. He would give
- one shriek for help, and I would fly to that dog's head, catch him by the
- ears or the ruff round his neck and be dragged along in my turn till Tsai
- Chih Fu the resourceful appeared on the scene with a billet of wood, and
- then the unfortunate beast would be banished from the yard or tied up till
- we had gone. I remembered often the warning I had received on the subject
- of hydrophobia, but I never had time to think of that till afterwards,
- when, of course, if anything had happened it would have been too late.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is one thing about a Chinese inn in the interior: it may be
- exceedingly uncomfortable, but it is also exceedingly cheap. A night's
- lodging as a rule costs forty cash. Eleven cash roughly is equal to a
- cent, and a cent, again roughly—it depends upon the price of silver—is
- a little less than a farthing. Forty cash, then, is hardly a penny. Hot
- water costs eight cash, eggs were six cash apiece and so were the wheaten
- scones I bought in place of the bread my servant could not make, and I
- could buy those last as low as three cash apiece. Of course I quite
- understand that I as a rich traveller paid top price for everything,
- probably twice or three times as much as the ordinary traveller; the
- missionaries, indeed, were shocked at the price I paid for eggs, and again
- I was always rooked in the matter of paper. For even though I preferred
- it, it often happened that it was impossible to sleep in my litter in the
- yard, it was too crowded with beasts—and it had to be very crowded—and
- then I stripped off the paper from the window of the room I occupied to
- let in the air, just a little air, and I was charged accordingly from
- thirty to eighty cash for my destructiveness. I found afterwards that a
- whole sheet of new paper can be had for ten cash, and the paper I
- destroyed was not half-a-sheet and was grimed with the dirt of ages!
- Glass, of course, in the mountains of Shansi is almost unknown and the
- windows are covered with white paper.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the mountains came a high stony plateau, not dangerous but
- difficult, for though this is a great trade route there was not an inch of
- smooth roadway, every step had to be carefully picked among the stones,
- and presently the stream that when we entered the mountains was a trickle
- a hand's-breadth across was now a river meandering among the stones. We
- began by stepping across it; wider it grew and there were stepping-stones
- for the walking muleteers; then the mules waded and the muleteers climbed
- on to the beasts or on to the front of the litter, which last proceeding
- made me very uncomfortable, for I remembered my special man was likely at
- most only to have been washed twice in his life, and I was very sure his
- clothes had never been washed at all and probably had never been taken off
- his back since last October. Finally we crossed by bridges, fairly
- substantial bridges three planks wide, but the mules required a deal of
- encouraging before they would trust them and always felt the boards
- gingerly with their hoofs first as if they distrusted the Chinaman and all
- his engineering works. The engineering was probably all right, but as the
- state of repair often left much to be desired I could hardly blame the
- mules for their caution. And one day we crossed that river twenty-six
- times!
- </p>
- <p>
- There is no charm in the country in Shansi beyond the sunshine and the
- invigorating air. There were fields, every patch of land that could
- possibly be made to grow a blade of wheat was most carefully tilled, there
- was not a weed, not a blade of grass out of place. In some fields the
- crops were springing green, in others the farmers were still ploughing,
- with a patient ox in the plough; but there were no divisions between these
- fields; there were no hedges; few and scanty trees; no gardens; no
- farmhouses, picturesque or otherwise. The peasants all live huddled
- together, literally in the hill-sides, and of the beauty of life there was
- none. It was toil, toil without remission and with never a day off. Even
- the blue sky and the sunshine and the invigorating dry air must be
- discounted by the dirt and darkness and airlessness of the houses and the
- underground <i>yaos</i>. The Chinese peasant's idea in building a house
- seems to be to get rid of the light and the air, the only two things I
- should have thought that make his life bearable. And in these dark and
- airless caves the crippled women spend their days. The younger women—I
- met them occasionally gaily clad and mounted on a donkey—looked
- waxen and had an air of suffering, and the older were lined and had a look
- of querulousness and irritability that was not on the men's faces. Many an
- old man have I seen whose face might stand for a model of prosperous,
- contented, peaceful old age looking back on a well-lived life, but never,
- never have I seen such a look on a woman's face.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last, after crossing a long bridge across the river, we came to Yung
- Ning Chou. The dark grey wall stood out against the blue sky and, unlike
- most Chinese cities that I have seen, there is no watch-tower over the
- gate. It has suburbs, suburbs like Fen Chou Fu enclosed in crumbling clay
- walls that are fast drifting to their inevitable end. They could not keep
- out a rabbit now, let alone a man, and yet they are entered through great
- brick gateways with a turn in them, and going under the archways I felt as
- usual as if I had gone back to Biblical days. The walls of the city
- proper, the crowded little city, are in better preservation, and tower
- high above the caravans that pass round them, for there are no inns in
- Yung Ning Chou and all caravans must stay in the eastern suburb. There are
- narrow, stony little streets of houses pressed close together, and the
- rough roadways are crowded with traffic: people, donkeys, laden mules and
- grunting camels are for ever passing to and fro. Looking up the principal
- street between the eastern and the western gate was like looking up a dark
- tunnel in which fluttered various notices, the shop signs, Chinese
- characters printed on white calico. Most of those signs, according to my
- interpreter's translation, bore a strong resemblance to one another.
- “Virtue and Abundance,” it seems they proclaimed to all who could read.
- But there was no one to tell me whether there was really any wealth in
- this little mountain city that is the same now as it probably was a
- thousand years ago. I wondered, I could not help wondering, whether it
- would be worth Pai Lang's while to attack. I wondered if he could get in
- if he did, for the walls were high and the gates, rising up straight and
- sheer without watch towers, such piles of masonry as might have been built
- by conquering Nineveh or Babylon. Here and there, though, in the walls the
- water had got under the clay and forced out the bricks in long deep
- cracks, and here if they were not carefully guarded were places that an
- invading force might storm, and in the suburbs and among the houses that
- clustered close under the protecting walls terrible things might be done.
- But the western gate, I should say, is well-nigh impregnable. Nobody but a
- Chinaman would have built a gate in such a place. It opens out on to a
- steep cliff that falls sheer sixty feet to the river below. Chinese towns
- are always built symmetrically; there should be at least one gate in each
- of the four walls, therefore a gate there is here. It seems to have
- occurred to no one that a gate is placed in those walls for the
- convenience of traffic, and that it is simple waste of time and labour to
- make a gate in a place by which no one could possibly pass. For that
- matter I should have thought a wall unnecessary on top of so steep a
- cliff.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Scandinavian missionaries who have faithfully worked Yung Ning Chou
- for the last twenty years with so little result were absent when I passed
- through. Only two of them live here, the rest are scattered over the
- mountains to the north, and when I was in Fen Chou Fu I met a woman, a
- Norwegian, who was on her way to join them. She remains in my mind a
- pathetic figure of sacrifice, a wistful woman who was giving of her very
- best and yet was haunted by the fear that all she was giving was of very
- little worth, surely the most bitter and sorrowful reflection in this
- world. She had worked in China as a missionary in her girlhood. She
- explained to me how hard it was for these northern peoples, for to learn
- Chinese they have first to learn English. Then she married, and after her
- little girl was born her husband died and so she took her treasure home to
- educate her in Norway. But she died and, feeling her duty was to the
- Chinese, back came the lonely mother, and when I met her she was setting
- out for the little walled city in the hills where she dwelt with some
- other women. A strangely lonely life, devoid of all pleasures, theirs must
- have been. I was struck with the little things that pleased this devoted
- woman, such little things, and we who may enjoy them every day go calmly
- on our way and never appreciate them. She wore the unbecoming Chinese
- dress, with her white hair drawn baek from her face, and her blue eyes
- looked out wistfully as if she were loath to give up hope that somewhere,
- somehow, in the world individual happiness, that would be for her alone,
- would come to her. During the revolution they, remembering the troubles
- and dangers of the Boxer time, had refugeed in Tientsin, and the days
- there were evidently marked with a white stone in her calendar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was so delightful,” she said in her pretty precise English, “to see
- the European children in the gardens.”
- </p>
- <p>
- How her heart went out to those children. They reminded her, I suppose, of
- the little girl she had left behind sleeping her last sleep among the
- Norwegian mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, the children!” she sighed. “It brought a lump in your throat to look
- at them!”
- </p>
- <p>
- It brought a lump in my throat to look at her as I saw her set out for her
- home with two little black-eyed Chinese girls crowded in the litter beside
- her. She was taking them home from the school at Fen Chou Fu. The
- loneliness of her life! The sacrifice of it! I wonder if those three
- women, shut away in that little walled town, made any converts. I doubt
- it, for theirs, like the Yung Ning Chou mission, was purely a faith
- mission.
- </p>
- <p>
- Unmarried women and widows were these three women. The Yung Ning Chou
- mission consists of four old bachelors and three old maids. Not for a
- moment do I suppose the majority of the Chinese believe they are what they
- are, men and women living the lives of ascetics, giving up all for their
- faith, and the absence of children in child-loving China must seriously
- handicap them in their efforts to spread their faith. Think of the weary
- years of those workers toiling so hopelessly in an alien land among a poor
- and alien population, whose first impulse is certainly to despise them.
- All honour to those workers even though they have failed in their object
- so far as human eye can see, and even though that object makes no appeal
- to people like me.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0155.jpg" alt="0155 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0155.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0156.jpg" alt="0156 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0156.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0157.jpg" alt="0157 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0157.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- And I passed on through Yung Ning Chou, on across the stony plateau, and
- at last, at a village called Liu Lin Chen, I was brought up with a sharp
- turn with a tale of Pai Lang.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was having my midday meal. Not that it was midday. It was four o'clock,
- and I had breakfasted at 6 a.m.; but time is of no account in China. Liu
- Lin Chen was the proper place at which to stop for the noonday rest, so we
- did not stop till we arrived there, though the badness of the road had
- delayed us. I was sitting in the inn-yard waiting for Tsai Chih Fu to
- bring me the eternal hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice when Mr Wang came
- up, accompanied by the two muleteers, and they—that is, the two
- muleteers—dropped down to the ground and clamoured, so I made out
- from his excited statements that the gates of Sui Te Chou had been closed
- for the last four days on account of Pai Lang! And Sui Te Chou was the
- first town I proposed to stop at after I crossed the river! If I would go
- to Lan Chou Fu and on through Sin Kiang to the Russian border through Sui
- Te Chou I must go. There was no other way. These days in the mountains had
- shown me that to stray from the caravan road was an utter impossibility.
- Had I been one of the country people conversant with the language I think
- it would have been impossible. As it was, I had my choice. I might go on
- or I might go back. Mr Wang apparently thought there should be no doubt in
- my mind. He evidently expected I would turn tail there and then, and I
- myself realised—I had been realising ever since round the table in
- the mission station at Ki Hsien we had read Dr Edwards' letter—that
- my journey across the continent was ended; but to turn tail in this
- ignominious fashion, having seen nothing, within, I suppose, twenty-five
- miles of the Yellow River, with the country about me as peaceful as the
- road in Kent in which I live at present, how could I? It was more
- peaceful, in fact, for now at night searchlights stream across the sky,
- within a furlong of my house bombs have been dropped and men have been
- killed, and by day and by night the house rocks as motors laden with
- armament and instruments of war thunder past. But there in Shansi in the
- fields the people worked diligently, in the village the archway over which
- they held theatrical representations was placarded with notices, and in
- the inn-yard where I sat the people went about attending to the animals as
- if there was nothing to be feared. And I felt lonely, and James Buchanan
- sat close beside me because at the other side of the very narrow yard a
- great big white dog with a fierce face and a patch of mange on his side
- looked at him threateningly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll have none of your drawing-room dogs here,” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Buchanan's difficulties were solved when he appealed to me. I—and
- I was feeling it horribly—had no one to appeal to. I must rely upon
- myself.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then to add to my woes it began to rain, soft, gentle spring rain,
- growing rain that must have been a godsend to the whole country-side.
- </p>
- <p>
- It stopped, and Mr Wang and the muleteers looked at me anxiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We will go on,” I said firmly, “to the Yellow River.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Their faces fell. I could see the disappointment, but still I judged I
- might go in safety so far.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't they want to go?” I asked Mr Wang.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Repeat, please,” said he. So I repeated, and he said as he had said
- before:
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you say 'Go,' mus' go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And I said “Go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII—CHINA'S SORROW
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t is better, says
- a Chinese proverb, “to hear about a thing than to see it,” and truly on
- this journey I was much inclined to agree with that dictum.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were bound for Hsieh Ts'un. I can't pronounce it, and I should not like
- to swear to the spelling, but of one thing I am very sure, not one of the
- inhabitants could spell it, or even know it was wrongly set forth to the
- world, so I am fairly safe.
- </p>
- <p>
- We went under the archway with the theatrical notices at Liu Lin Chen,
- under the arched gateway of the village, out into the open country, and it
- began to rain again. It came down not exactly in torrents but good steady
- growing rain. The roads when they were not slippery stones were appalling
- quagmires, and my mule litter always seemed to be overhanging a precipice
- of some sort. I was not very comfortable when that precipice was only
- twenty feet deep, when it was more I fervently wished that I had not come
- to China. I wished it more than once, and it rained and it rained and it
- rained, silent, soaking, penetrating rain, and I saw the picturesque
- mountain country through a veil of mist.
- </p>
- <p>
- Hsieh Ts'un is a little dirty straggling village, and as we entered it
- through the usual archway with a watch tower above the setting sun broke
- through the thick clouds and his golden rays strcamed down upon the
- slippery wet cobblestones that paved the principal street. The golden
- sunlight and the gorgeous rainbow glorified things a little, and they
- needed glorifying. The principal inn, as usual, was a fairly large yard,
- roughly paved, but swimming now in dirty water; there were stalls for
- animals all round it, and there was a large empty shed where they stored
- lime. It was stone-paved, and the roof leaked like a sieve, but here I
- established myself, dodging as far as possible the holes in the roof and
- drawing across the front of the shed my litter as a sort of protection,
- for the inn, as usual with these mountain inns, had but one room.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was cold, it was dirty, and I realised how scarce foreigners must be
- when through the misty, soaking rain, which generally chokes off a
- Chinaman, crowds came to stand round and stare at me. I was stationary, so
- the women came, dirty, ragged, miserable-looking women, supporting
- themselves with sticks and holding up their babies to look at the stranger
- while she ate. By and by it grew so cold I felt I must really go to bed,
- and I asked Mr Wang to put it to the crowd that it was not courteous to
- stare at the foreign woman when she wished to be alone, and, O most
- courtly folk! every single one of those people went away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can have a bath,” said he, “no one will look”; and, all honour give I
- to those poor peasants of Western Shansi, I was undisturbed. I am afraid a
- lonely Chinese lady would hardly be received with such courtesy in an
- English village were the cases reversed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Next day the rain still teemed down. The fowls pecked about the yard,
- drenched and dripping; a miserable, mangy, cream-coloured dog or two came
- foraging for a dinner, and the people, holding wadded coats and oiled
- paper over their heads, came to look again at the show that had come to
- the town; but there was no break in the grey sky, and there was nothing to
- do but sit there shivering with cold, writing letters on my little
- travelling table and listening to my interpreter, who talked with the
- innkeeper and brought me at intervals that gentleman's views on the doings
- of Pai Lang.
- </p>
- <p>
- Those views varied hour by hour. At first he was sure he was attacking Sui
- Te Chou. That seemed to me sending the famous robber over the country too
- quickly. Then it was <i>tufeis</i>—that is, bands of robbers—that
- Sui Te Chou feared, and finally, boiled down, I came to the conclusion
- that Sui Te Chou had probably shut her gates because the country round was
- disturbed, and that she admitted no one who had not friends in the city or
- could not in some way guarantee his good faith. It served to show me my
- friends in Ki Hsien had been right, such disturbed country would be no
- place for a woman alone. I suppose it was the rain and the grey skies, but
- I must admit that day I was distinctly unhappy and more than a little
- afraid. I was alone among an alien people, who only regarded me as a cheap
- show; I had no one to take counsel with, my interpreter only irritated me
- and, to add to my misery, I was very cold. I have seldom put in a longer
- or more dreary day than I did at Hsieh Ts'un. There was absolutely nothing
- to do but watch the misty rain, for if I went outside and got wetter than
- I was already getting under the leaking roof—I wore my Burberry—I
- had no possible means of drying my clothes save by laying them on the hot
- <i>k'ang</i> in the solitary living-room of the inn, and that was already
- inhabited by many humans and the parasites that preyed upon them.
- Therefore I stayed where I was, compared my feet with the stumps of the
- women who came to visit me—distinctly I was a woman's show—gave
- the grubby little children raisins, and wondered if there was any fear of
- Pai Lang coming along this way before I had time to turn back. If it kept
- on raining, would my muleteers compel me to stay here till Pai Lang swept
- down upon us? But no, that thought did not trouble me, first, because I
- momentarily expected it to clear up, and secondly, because I was very sure
- that any rain that kept me prisoner would also hold up Pai Lang. I could
- not believe in a Chinaman, even a robber, going out in the rain if he
- could help himself, any more than I could believe in it raining longer
- than a day in China.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The people are not afraid,” I said to my interpreter as I looked at a
- worn old woman in a much-patched blue cotton smock and trousers, her head
- protected from the rain by a wadded coat in the last stages of
- decrepitude; her feet made me shiver, and her finger-nails made me crawl,
- the odour that came from her was sickening, but she liked to see me write,
- and I guessed she had had but few pleasures in her weary life.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They not knowing yet,” said he; “only travellers know. They tell
- innkeeper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, certainly the travellers would know best.
- </p>
- <p>
- And all day long he came, bringing me various reports, and said that,
- according to the innkeeper, the last caravan that had passed through had
- gone back on its tracks. I might have remembered it. I did remember it—a
- long line of donkeys and mules.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the day passed, and the night passed, and the next day the sun came
- out warm and pleasant, and all my doubts were resolved. My journey was
- broken beyond hope, and I must go back, but turn I would not till I had
- looked upon the Yellow River.
- </p>
- <p>
- We started with all our paraphernalia. We were to turn in our tracks after
- tiffin, but Mr Wang and the muleteers were certain on that point,
- everything I possessed must be dragged across the mountains if I hoped to
- see it again, and I acquiesced, for I certainly felt until I got back to
- civilisation I could not do without any of my belongings.
- </p>
- <p>
- Almost immediately we left the village we began to ascend the mountain
- pass. Steeper and steeper it grew, and at last the opening in my mule
- litter was pointing straight up to the sky, and I, seeing there was
- nothing else for it, demanded to be lifted out and signified my intention
- of walking.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was one thing against this and that was an attack of breathlessness.
- Asthma always attacks me when I am tired or worried, and now, with a very
- steep mountain to cross and no means of doing it except on my own feet, it
- had its wicked way. My master of transport and Mr Wang, like perfectly
- correct Chinese servants, each put a hand under my elbows, and with
- Buchanan skirmishing around joyfully, rejoicing that for once his mistress
- was sensible, the little procession started. It was hard work, very hard
- work. When I could go no longer I sat down and waited till I felt equal to
- starting again. On the one hand the mountain rose up sheer and steep, on
- the other it dropped away into the gully beneath, only to rise again on
- the other side. And yet in the most inaccessible places were patches of
- cultivation and wheat growing. I cannot imagine how man or beast kept a
- footing on such a slant, and how they ploughed and sowed it passes my
- understanding. But most of the mountain-side was too much even for them,
- and then they turned loose their flocks, meek cream-coloured sheep and
- impudent black goats, to graze on the scanty mountain pastures. Of course
- they were in charge of a shepherd, for there were no fences, and the newly
- springing wheat must have been far more attractive than the scanty
- mountain grasses.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I knew it was worth it all—the long trek from Fen Chou Fu,
- the dreary day at Hsieh Ts'un, the still more dreary nights, this stiff
- climb which took more breath than I had to spare—for the view when I
- arrived at a point of vantage was beautiful. These were strange mountains.
- The road before me rose at a very steep angle, and all around me were
- hill-sides whereon only a goat or a sheep might find foothold, but the
- general effect looked at from a distance was not of steepness. These were
- not mountains, rugged, savage, grand, they were gentle hills and dales
- that lay about me; I had come through them; there were more ahead; I could
- see them range after range, softly rounded, green and brown and then blue,
- beautiful for all there were no trees, in an atmosphere that was clear as
- a mirror after the rain of the day before. Beautiful, beautiful, with a
- tender entrancing loveliness, is that view over the country up in the
- hills that hem in the Yellow River as it passes between Shansi and Shensi.
- Is it possible there is never anyone to see it but these poor peasants who
- wring a hard livelihood from the soil, and who for all their toil, which
- lasts from daylight to dark all the year round, get from this rich soil
- just enough wheaten flour to keep the life in them, a hovel to dwell in,
- and a few unspeakable rags to cover their nakedness? As far as I could
- see, everyone was desperately poor, and yet these hills hold coal and iron
- in close proximity, wealth untold and unexploited. The pity of it!
- Unexploited, the people are poor to the verge of starvation; worked, the
- delicate loveliness of the country-side will vanish as the beauty of the
- Black Country has vanished, and can we be sure that the peasant will
- benefit?
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0166.jpg" alt="0166 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0166.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0167.jpg" alt="0167 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0167.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- Still we went up and up, and the climbing of these gentle wooing hills I
- found hard. Steep it was, and at last, just when I felt I could not
- possibly go any farther, though the penalty were that I should turn back
- almost within sight of the river, I found that the original makers of the
- track had been of the same opinion, for here was the top of the pass with
- a tunnel bored through it, a tunnel perhaps a hundred feet long, carefully
- bricked, and when we, breathless and panting, walked through we came out
- on a little plateau with a narrow road wandering down a mountain-side as
- steep as the one we had just climbed. There was the most primitive of
- restaurants here, and the woman in charge—it was a woman, and her
- feet were not bound—proffered us a thin sort of drink like very
- tasteless barley water. At least now I know it was tasteless, then I found
- it was nectar, and I sat on a stone and drank it thankfully, gave not a
- thought to the dirt of the bowl that contained it, and drew long breaths
- and looked around me.
- </p>
- <p>
- The hills rose up on either hand and away in the distance where they
- opened out were the beautiful treeless hills of forbidden Shensi, just as
- alluring, just as peaceful as the hills I had come through. It was worth
- the long and toilsome journey, well worth even all my fears.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then we went down, down, but I did not dare get into my litter, the way
- was too steep, the chances of going over too great, for it seems the
- Chinese never make a road if by any chance they can get along without.
- They were driven to bore a tunnel through the mountains, but they never
- smooth or take away rocks as long as, by taking a little care, an animal
- can pass without the certainty of going over the cliff.
- </p>
- <p>
- And at last through a cleft in the hills I saw one of the world's great
- rivers and—was disappointed. The setting was ideal. The hills rose
- up steep and rugged, real mountains, on either side, pheasants called,
- rock-doves mourned, magpies chattered, overhead was a clear blue sky just
- flecked here and there with fleecy clouds, beyond again were the mountains
- of Shensi, the golden sunlight on their rounded tops, purple shadow in
- their swelling folds, far away in the distance they melted blue into the
- blue sky, close at hand they were green with the green of springtime, save
- where the plough had just turned up patches of rich brown soil, and at
- their foot rolled a muddy flood that looked neither decent water nor good
- sound earth, the mighty Hoang-Ho, the Yellow River, China's sorrow.
- China's sorrow indeed; for though here it was hemmed in by mountains, and
- might not shift its bed, it looked as if it were carrying the soul of the
- mountains away to the sea.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is a temple where the gully opens on to the river, a temple and a
- little village, and the temple was crowded with blue-clad, shabby-looking
- soldiers who promptly swarmed round me and wanted to look in my baggage,
- that heavy baggage we were hauling for safety over fourteen miles of
- mountain road. Presumably they were seeking arms. We managed to persuade
- them there were none, and that the loads contained nothing likely to
- disturb the peace, and then we went down to the river, crossing by a
- devious, rocky and unpleasant path simply reeking of human occupancy, and
- the inhabitants of that soldier village crowded round me and examined
- everything I wore and commented on everything I did.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were there to guard the crossing; and far from me be it to say they
- were not most efficient, but if so their looks belied them. They did not
- even look toy soldiers. No man was in full uniform. Apparently they wore
- odd bits, as if there were not enough clothes in the company to go round,
- and they were one and all dirty, touzly, untidy, and all smiling and
- friendly and good-tempered. I only picked them out from the surrounding
- country people—who were certainly dirty and poverty-stricken enough
- in all conscience—by the fact that the soldiers had abandoned the
- queue which the people around, like all these country people, still
- affect. The soldier wore his hair about four or five inches long, sticking
- out at all angles, rusty-black, unkempt and uncombed, and whether he ran
- to a cap or not, the result was equally unworkmanlike.
- </p>
- <p>
- I conclude Chun Pu is not a very important crossing. What the road is like
- on the Shensi side I do not know, but on the Shansi side I should think
- the pass we had just crossed was a very effective safeguard. He would be a
- bold leader who would venture to bring his men up that path in the face of
- half-a-dozen armed men, and they need not be very bold men either. Those
- soldiers did not look bold. They were kindly, though, and they had women
- and children with them—I conclude their own, for they nursed the
- grubby little children, all clad in grubby patches, very proudly, took
- such good care they had a good view of the show—me—that I
- could not but sympathise with their paternal affection and aid in every
- way in my power. Generally my good-will took the form of raisins. I was
- lavish now I had given up my journey, and my master of transport
- distributed with an air as if I were bestowing gold and silver.
- </p>
- <p>
- He set out my table on the cobble-stones of the inn-yard in the sunshine.
- I believe, had I been a really dignified traveller, I should have put up
- with the stuffiness and darkness of the inn's one room, but I felt the
- recurrent hard-boiled eggs and puffed rice, with a certain steamed scone
- which contained more of the millstone and less of the flour than was usual
- even with the scones of the country, were trials enough without trying to
- be dignified in discomfort.
- </p>
- <p>
- And while I had my meal everybody took it in turns to look through the
- finder of my camera, the women, small-footed, dirty creatures, much to the
- surprise of their menfolk, having precedence. Those women vowed they had
- never seen a foreigner before. Every one of them had bound feet, tiny feet
- on which they could just totter, and all were clad in extremely dirty,
- much-patched blue cotton faded into a dingy dirt-colour. Most of them wore
- tight-fitting coverings of black cloth to cover their scalps, often
- evidently to conceal their baldness, for many of them suffered from
- “expending too much heart.” Baldness is caused, say the Chinese half in
- fun, because the luckless man or woman has thought more of others than of
- themselves. I am afraid they do not believe it, or they may like to hide
- their good deeds, for they are anything but proud of being bald. Most of
- the mouths, too, here, and indeed all along the road, were badly formed
- and full of shockingly broken and decayed teeth, the women's particularly.
- Wheaten flour, which is the staple food of Shansi, is apparently not
- enough to make good teeth. The people were not of a markedly Mongolian
- type. Already it seemed as if the nations to the West were setting their
- seal upon them, and some of the younger girls, with thick black hair
- parted in the middle, a little colour in their cheeks, and somewhat
- pathetic, wistful-looking faces, would have been good-looking in any land.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then I had one more good look at the river, my farthest point west on the
- journey, the river I had come so far to see. It was all so peaceful in the
- afternoon sunlight that it seemed foolish not to go on. The hills of
- Shensi beckoned and all my fears fell from me. I wanted badly to go on.
- Then came reason. It was madness to risk the <i>tufeis</i> with whom
- everyone was agreed Shensi swarmed. There in the brilliant sunshine, with
- the laughing people around me, I was not afraid, but when night fell—no,
- even if the soldiers would have allowed, which Mr Wang declared they would
- not—I dared not, and I turned sadly and regretfully and made my way
- back to Fen Chou Fu.
- </p>
- <p>
- Had I gone on I should have arrived in Russia with the war in full swing,
- so on the whole? am thankful I had to flee before the <i>tufeis</i> of
- Shensi. Perhaps when the world is at peace I shall essay that fascinating
- journey again. Only I shall look out for some companion, and even if I
- take the matchless master of transport I shall most certainly see to it
- that I have a good cook.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII—LAST DAYS IN CHINA
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ell, I had failed!
- The horrid word kept ringing in my ears, the still more horrid thought was
- ever in my mind day and night as I retraced my footsteps, and I come of a
- family that does not like to fail.
- </p>
- <p>
- I wondered if it were possible to make my way along the great waterways of
- Siberia. There were mighty rivers there, I had seen them, little-known
- rivers, and it seemed to me that before going West again I might see
- something of them, and as my mules picked their way across the streams,
- along the stony paths, by the walled cities, through the busy little
- villages, already China was behind me, I was thinking of ways and means by
- which I might penetrate Siberia.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Fen Chou Fu they were kind, but I knew they thought I had given in too
- easily, that I had turned back at a shadow, but at T'ai Yuan Fu I met the
- veteran missionary, Dr Edwards, and I was comforted and did not feel so
- markedly that failure was branded all over me when he thanked God that his
- letter had had the effect of making me consider carefully my ways, for of
- one thing he was sure, there would have been but one ending to the
- expedition. To get to Lan Chou Fu would have been impossible.
- </p>
- <p>
- Still my mind was not quite at ease about the matter, and at intervals I
- wondered if I would not have gone on had I had a good cook. Rather a
- humiliating thought! It was a satisfaction when one day I met Mr Reginald
- Farrer, who had left Peking with Mr Purdom to botanise in Kansu ten days
- before I too had proposed to start West.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I often wondered,” said he, “what became of you and how you had got on.
- We thought perhaps you might have fallen into the hands of White Wolf and
- then———” He paused.
- </p>
- <p>
- Shensi, he declared, was a seething mass of unrest. It would have spelled
- death to cross to those peaceful hills I had looked at from the left bank
- of the Hoang-Ho. We discussed our travels, and we took diametrically
- opposite views of China. But it is impossible to have everything: one has
- to choose, and I prefer the crudeness of the new world, the rush and the
- scramble and the progress, to the calm of the Oriental. Very likely this
- is because I am a woman. In the East woman holds a subservient position,
- she has no individuality of her own, and I, coming from the newest new
- world, where woman has a very high place indeed, is counted a citizen, and
- a useful citizen, could hardly be expected to admire a state of society
- where her whole life is a torture and her position is regulated by her
- value to the man to whom she belongs. I put this to my friend when he was
- admiring the Chinese ladies and he laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I admit,” said he, “that a young woman has a”—well, he used a very
- strong expression, but it wasn't strong enough—“of a time when she
- is young, but, if she has a son, when her husband dies see what a position
- she holds. That little old woman sitting on a <i>k'ang</i> rules a whole
- community.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I gave it up because our points of view were East and West. But I
- am thankful that the Fates did not make me—a woman—a member of
- a nation where I could have no consideration, no chance of happiness, no
- great influence or power by my own effort, where recognition only came if
- I had borne a son who was still living and my husband was dead.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0176.jpg" alt="0176 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0176.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0177.jpg" alt="0177 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0177.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- On my way back to T'ai Yuan Fu I stayed at no mission station except at
- Fen Chou Fu; I went by a different route and spent the nights at miserable
- inns that kindly charged me a whole penny for lodging and allowed me to
- sleep in my litter in their yards, and about eighty <i>li</i> from Fen
- Chou Fu I came across evidences of another mission that would be <i>anathema
- maranatha</i> to the Nonconformists with whom I had been staying. It is
- curious this schism between two bodies holding what purports to be the
- same faith. I remember a missionary, the wife of a doctor at Ping Ting
- Chou, who belonged to a sect called The Brethren, who spoke of the Roman
- Catholics as if they were in as much need of conversion as the ignorant
- Chinese around her. It made me smile; yet I strongly suspect that Mr
- Farrer will put me in the same category as I put my friend from Ping Ting
- Chou! However, here under the care of the Alsatian Fathers the country was
- most beautifully cultivated. The wheat was growing tall and lush in the
- land, emerald-green in the May sunshine; there were avenues of trees along
- the wayside clothed in the tender fresh green of spring, and I came upon a
- whole village, men and boys, busy making a bridge across a stream. Never
- in China have I seen such evidences of well-conducted agricultural
- industry; and the Fathers were militant too, for they were, and probably
- are, armed, and in the Boxer trouble held their station like a fort, and
- any missionaries fleeing who reached them had their lives saved. I found
- much to commend in that Roman Catholic mission, and felt they were as
- useful to the country people in their way as were the Americans to the
- people of the towns.
- </p>
- <p>
- Outside another little town the population seemed to be given over to the
- making of strawboard, and great banks were plastered with squares of it
- set out to dry, and every here and there a man was engaged in putting more
- pieces up. It wras rather a comical effect to see the side of a bank
- plastered with yellow squares of strawboard and the wheat springing on
- top.
- </p>
- <p>
- All along the route still went caravans of camels, mules and donkeys, and,
- strangest of all modes of conveyance, wheel-barrows, heavily laden too. A
- wheel-barrow in China carries goods on each side of a great wheel, a man
- holds up the shafts and wheels it, usually with a strap round his
- shoulders, and in front either another man or a donkey is harnessed to
- help with the traction. Hundreds of miles they go, over the roughest way,
- and the labour must be very heavy; but wherever I went in China this was
- impressed upon me, that man was the least important factor in any work of
- production. He might be used till he failed and then thrown lightly away
- without a qualm. There were plenty glad enough to take his place.
- </p>
- <p>
- I have been taken to task for comparing China to Babylon, but I must make
- some comparison to bring home things to my readers. This journey through
- the country in the warm spring sunshine was as unlike a journey anywhere
- that I have been in Europe, Africa or Australia as anything could possibly
- be. It was through an old land, old when Europe was young. I stopped at
- inns that were the disgusting product of the slums; I passed men working
- in the fields who were survivals of an old civilisation, and when I passed
- any house that was not a hovel it was secluded carefully, so that the
- owner and his womenkind might keep themselves apart from the proletariat,
- the serfs who laboured around them and for them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Within a day's journey of T'ai Yuan Fu I came to a little town, Tsui Su,
- where there was an extra vile inn with no courtyard that I could sleep in,
- only a room where the rats were numerous and so fierce that they drove
- Buchanan for refuge to my bed and the objectionable insects that I hustled
- off the <i>k'ang</i> by means of powdered borax and Keating's, strewed
- over and under the ground sheet, crawled up the walls and dropped down
- upon me from the ceiling. Poor Buchanan and I spent a horrid night. I
- don't like rats anyway, and fierce and hungry rats on the spot are far
- worse for keeping off sleep than possible robbers in the future. All that
- night I dozed and waked and restrained Buchanan's energies and vowed I was
- a fool for coming to China, and then in the morning as usual I walked it
- all back, and was glad, for Mr Wang came to me and, after the best
- personally conducted Cook's tourist style, explained that here was a
- temple which “mus' see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I didn't believe much in temples in these parts, but I went a little way
- back into the town and came to a really wonderful temple, built, I think,
- over nine warm springs—the sort of thing that weighed down the
- scales heavily on Mr Farrer's side. What has a nation that could produce
- such a temple to learn from the West? I shall never forget the carved
- dragons in red and gold that climbed the pillars at the principal
- entrance, the twisted trees, the shrines over the springs and the bronze
- figures that stood guard on the platform at the entrance gate. The steps
- up to that gate were worn and broken with the passing of many feet through
- countless years; the yellow tiles of the roof were falling and broken;
- from the figures had been torn or had fallen the arms that they once had
- borne; the whole place was typical of the decay which China allows to fall
- upon her holy places; but seen in the glamour of the early morning, with
- the grass springing underfoot, the trees in full leaf, the sunshine
- lighting the yellow roofs and the tender green of the trees, it was
- gorgeous. Then the clouds gathered and it began to rain, gentle, soft,
- warm, growing rain, and I left it shrouded in a seductive grey mist that
- veiled its imperfections and left me a 'memory only of one of the
- beautiful places of the earth that I am glad I have seen.
- </p>
- <p>
- At T'ai Yuan Fu I paid Mr Wang's fare back to Pao Ting Fu and bade him a
- glad farewell. There may be worse interpreters in China, but I really hope
- there are not many. He would have been a futile person in any country; he
- was a helpless product of age-old China. I believe he did get back safely,
- but I must confess to feeling on sending him away much as I should do were
- I to turn loose a baby of four to find his way across London. Indeed I
- have met many babies of four in Australia who struck me as being far more
- capable than the interpreter who had undertaken to see me across China.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was on the loose myself now. I was bent on going to Siberia; but the
- matter had to be arranged in my own mind first, and while I did so I
- lingered and spent a day or two at Hwailu; not that I wanted to see that
- town—somehow I had done with China—but because the personality
- of Mr and Mrs Green of the China Inland Mission interested me.
- </p>
- <p>
- Hwailu is a small walled city, exactly like hundreds of other little
- walled cities, with walls four-square to each point of the compass, and it
- is set where the hills begin to rise that divide Chihli from Shansi, and
- beyond the mission station is a square hill called Nursing Calf Fort. The
- hill has steep sides up which it is almost impossible to take any animal,
- but there are about one hundred acres of arable land on top, and this,
- with true Chinese thrift, could not be allowed to go untilled, so the
- story goes that while a calf was young a man carried it up on his back;
- there it grew to maturity, and with its help they ploughed the land and
- they reaped the crops. It is a truly Chinese story, and very likely it is
- true. It is exactly what the Chinese would do.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Hwailu, where they had lived for many years, Mr and Mrs Green were
- engaged in putting up a new church, and with them I came in contact with
- missionaries who had actually suffered almost to death at the hands of the
- Boxers. It was thrilling to listen to the tales of their sufferings,
- sitting there on the verandah of the mission house looking out on to the
- peaceful flowers and shrubs of the mission garden.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the Boxer trouble spread to Hwailu and it was manifest the mission
- house was no longer safe, they took refuge in a cave among the hills that
- surround the town. Their converts and friends—for they had many
- friends who were not converts—hardly dared come near them, and death
- was very close. It was damp and cold in the cave though it was
- summer-time, and by and by they had eaten all their food and drunk all
- their water, and their hearts were heavy, for they feared not only for
- themselves, but for what the little children must suffer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I could not help it,” said Mrs Green, reproaching herself for being
- human. “I used to look at my children and wonder how the saints <i>could</i>
- rejoice in martyrdom!”
- </p>
- <p>
- When they were in despair and thinking of coming out and giving themselves
- up they heard hushed voices, and a hand at the opening of the cave offered
- five large wheaten scones. Some friends, again not converts, merely pagan
- friends, had remembered their sufferings. Still they looked at the scenes
- doubtfully, and though the little children—they were only four and
- six—held out their hands for them eagerly, they were obliged to
- implore them not to eat them, they would make them so desperately thirsty.
- But their Chinese friends were thoughtful as well as kind, and presently
- came the same soft voice again and a hand sending up a basketful of
- luscious cucumbers, cool and refreshing with their store of water.
- </p>
- <p>
- But they could not stay there for ever, and finally they made their way
- down to the river bank, the Ching River—the Clear River we called
- it, and I have also heard it translated the Dark Blue River, though it was
- neither dark, nor blue, nor clear, simply a muddy canal—and slowly
- made their way in the direction of Tientsin, hundreds of miles away. That
- story of the devoted little band's wanderings makes pitiful reading.
- Sometimes they went by boat, sometimes they crept along in the kaoliang
- and reeds, and at last they arrived at the outskirts of Hsi An—not
- the great city in Shensi, but a small walled town on the Ching River in
- Chihli. Western cities are as common in China as new towns in
- English-speaking lands—and here they, hearing a band was after them,
- hid themselves in the kaoliang, the grain that grows close and tall as a
- man. They were weary and worn and starved; they were well-nigh hopeless—at
- least I should have been hopeless—but still their faith upheld them.
- It was the height of summer and the sun poured down his rays, but towards
- evening the clouds gathered. If it rained they knew with little children
- they must leave their refuge.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But surely, I know,” said Mrs Green, “the dear Lord will never let it
- rain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And as I looked at her I seemed to see the passionate yearning with which
- she looked at the little children that the rain must doom to a Chinese
- prison or worse. In among those thick kaoliang stalks they could not stay.
- </p>
- <p>
- It rained, the heavy rain that comes in the Chinese summer, and the
- fugitives crept out and gave themselves up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It shows how ignorant we are, how unfit to judge for ourselves,” said the
- teller of the tale fervently, “for we fell into the hands of a
- comparatively merciful band, whereas presently the kaoliang was beaten by
- a ruthless set of men whom there would have been no escaping, and who
- certainly would have killed us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the tenderness of the most merciful band was a thing to be prayed
- against. They carried the children kindly enough—the worst of
- Chinamen seem to be good to children—but they constantly threatened
- their elders with death. They were going to their death, that they made
- very clear to them; and they slung them on poles by their hands and feet,
- and the pins came out of the women's long hair—there was another
- teacher, a girl, with them—and it trailed in the dust of the filthy
- Chinese paths. And Mr Green was faint and weary from a wound in his neck,
- but still they had no pity.
- </p>
- <p>
- Still these devoted people comforted each other. It was the will of the
- Lord. Always was He with them. They were taken to Pao Ting Fu, Pao Ting Fu
- that had just burned its own missionaries, and put in the gaol there—and,
- knowing a Chinese inn, I wonder what can be the awfulness of a Chinese
- gaol—and they were allowed no privacy. Mrs Green had dysentery; they
- had not even a change of clothes; but the soldiers were always in the
- rooms with them, or at any rate in the outer room, and this was done, of
- course, of <i>malice prepense</i>, for no one values the privacy of their
- women more than the Chinese. The girl got permission to go down to the
- river to wash their clothes, but a soldier always accompanied her, and
- always the crowds jeered and taunted as she went along in the glaring
- sunshine, feeling that nothing was hidden from these scornful people. Only
- strangely to the children were they kind; the soldiers used to give them
- copper coins so that they might buy little scones and cakes to eke out the
- scanty rations, and once—it brought home to me, perhaps as nothing
- else could, the deprivations of such a life—instead of buying the
- much-needed food the women bought a whole pennyworth of hairpins, for
- their long hair was about their shoulders, and though they brushed it to
- the best of their ability with their hands it was to them an unseemly
- thing.
- </p>
- <p>
- And before the order came—everything is ordered in China—that
- their lives were to be saved and they were to be sent to Tientsin the
- little maid who had done so much to cheer and alleviate their hard lot lay
- dying; the hardships and the coarse food had been too much for her. In the
- filth and misery of the ghastly Chinese prison she lay, and, bending over
- her, they picked the lice off her. Think of that, ye folk who guard your
- little ones tenderly and love them as these missionaries who feel called
- upon to convert the Chinese loved theirs.
- </p>
- <p>
- After all that suffering they went back, back to Hwailu and the desolated
- mission station under the Nursing Calf Fort, where they continue their
- work to this day, and so will continue it, I suppose, to the end, for most
- surely their sufferings and their endurance have fitted them for the work
- they have at heart as no one who has not so suffered and endured could be
- fitted. And so I think the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges.
- </p>
- <p>
- I walked through a tremendous dust-storm to the railway station at the
- other side of the town, and the woman who had suffered these awful things,
- and who was as sweet and charming and lovable a woman as I have ever met,
- walked with me and bade me God-speed on my journey, and when I parted from
- her I knew that among a class I—till I came to China—had
- always strenuously opposed I had found one whom I could not only respect,
- but whom I could love and admire.
- </p>
- <p>
- Going back to Pao Ting Fu was like going back to old friends. They had not
- received my letter. Mr Wang had not made his appearance, so when James
- Buchanan and I, attended by the master of transport, appeared upon the
- scene on a hot summer day we found the missionary party having their
- midday dinner on the verandah, and they received me—bless their kind
- hearts!—with open arms, and proceeded to explain to me how very wise
- a thing I had done in coming back. The moment I had left, they said, they
- had been uncomfortable in the part they had taken in forwarding me on my
- journey.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was very good of them. There are days we always remember all our lives—our
- wedding day and such-like—and that coming back on the warm summer's
- day out of the hot, dusty streets of the western suburb into the cool,
- clean, tree-shaded compound of the American missionaries at Pao Ting Fu is
- one of them. And that compound is one of the places in the world I much
- want to visit again.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is another day, too, I shall not lightly forget. We called it the
- last meeting of the Travellers' Club of Pao Ting Fu. There were only two
- members in the club, Mr Long and I and an honorary member, James Buchanan,
- and on this day the club decided to meet, and Mr Long asked me to dinner.
- He lived in the Chinese college in the northern suburb. His house was only
- about two miles away and it could be reached generally by going round by
- the farms and graves, mostly graves, that cover the ground by the rounded
- north-west corner of the wall of the city. Outside a city in China is
- ugly. True, the walls are strangely old-world and the moat is a relic of
- the past—useful in these modern times for disposing of unwanted
- puppies; Pao Ting Fu never seemed so hard up for food as Shansi—but
- otherwise the ground looks much as the deserted alluvial goldfields round
- Ballarat used to look in the days of my youth; the houses are ramshackle
- to the last degree, and all the fields, even when they are green with the
- growing grain, look unfinished. But round the north-west corner of Pao
- Ting Fu the graves predominate. There are thousands and thousands of them.
- And on that particular day it rained, it rained, and it rained, steady
- warm summer rain that only stopped and left the air fresh and washed about
- six o'clock in the evening. I ordered a rickshaw—a rickshaw in Pao
- Ting Fu is a very primitive conveyance; but it was pleasantly warm, and,
- with James Buchanan on my knee, in the last evening dress that remained to
- me and an embroidered Chinese jacket for an opera cloak, I set out. I had
- started early because on account of the rain the missionaries opined there
- might be a little difficulty with the roads. However, I did not worry much
- because I only had two miles to go, and I had walked it often in less than
- three-quarters of an hour. I was a little surprised when my rickshaw man
- elected to go through the town, but, as I could not speak the language, I
- was not in a position to remonstrate, and I knew we could not come back
- that way as at sundown all the gates shut save the western, and that only
- waits till the last train at nine o'clock.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was muddy, red, clayey mud in the western suburb when we started, but
- when we got into the northern part of the town I was reminded of the
- tribulations of Fen Chou Fu in the summer rains, for the water was up to
- our axles, the whole place was like a lake and the people were piling up
- dripping goods to get them out of the way of the very dirty flood. My man
- only paused to turn his trousers up round his thighs and then went on
- again—going through floods was apparently all in the contract—but
- we went very slowly indeed. Dinner was not until eight and I had given
- myself plenty of time, but I began to wonder whether we should arrive at
- that hour. Presently I knew we shouldn't.
- </p>
- <p>
- We went through the northern gate, and to my dismay the country in the
- fading light seemed under water. From side to side and far beyond the road
- was covered, and what those waters hid I trembled to think, for a road at
- any time in China is a doubtful proposition and by no means spells
- security. As likely as not there were deep holes in it. But apparently my
- coolie had no misgivings. In he went at his usual snail's pace and the
- water swirled up to the axles, up to the floor of the rickshaw, and when I
- had gathered my feet up on the seat and we were in the middle of the sheet
- of exceedingly dirty water the rickshaw coolie stopped and gave me to
- understand that he had done his darnedest and could do no more. He dropped
- the shafts and stood a little way off, wringing the water out of his
- garments. It wasn't dangerous, of course, but it was distinctly
- uncomfortable. I saw myself in evening dress wading through two feet of
- dirty water to a clayey, slippery bank at the side. I waited a little
- because the prospect did not please me, and though there were plenty of
- houses round, there was not a soul in sight. It was getting dark too, and
- it was after eight o'clock.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently a figure materialised on that clayey bank and him I beckoned
- vehemently.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now Pao Ting Fu had seen foreigners, not many, but still foreigners, and
- they spell to it a little extra cash, so the gentleman on the bank tucked
- up his garments and came wading over. He and my original friend took a
- maddeningly long time discussing the situation, and then they proceeded to
- drag the rickshaw sideways to the bank. There was a narrow pathway along
- the top and they apparently decided that if they could get the conveyance
- up there we might proceed on our journey. First I had to step out, and it
- looked slippery enough to make me a little doubtful. As a preliminary I
- handed James Buchanan to the stranger, because, as he had to sit on my
- knee, I did not want him to get dirtier than necessary. Buchanan did not
- like the stranger, but he submitted with a bad grace till I, stepping out,
- slipped on the clay and fell flat on my back, when he promptly bit the man
- who was holding him and, getting away, expressed his sympathy by licking
- my face. Such a commotion as there was! My two men yelled in dismay.
- Buchanan barked furiously, and I had some ado to get on my feet again, for
- the path was very slippery. It was long past eight now and could I have
- gone back I would have done so, but clearly that was impossible, so by
- signs I engaged No. 2 man, whose wounds had to be salved—copper did
- it—to push behind, and we resumed our way....
- </p>
- <p>
- Briefly it was long after ten o'clock when I arrived at the college. My
- host had given me up as a bad job long before and, not being well, had
- gone to bed. There was nothing for it but to rouse him up, because I
- wanted to explain that I thought I had better have another man to take me
- home over the still worse road that I knew ran outside the city.
- </p>
- <p>
- He made me most heartily welcome and then explained to my dismay that the
- men utterly declined to go any farther, declared no rickshaw could get
- over the road to the western suburb and that I must have a cart. That was
- all very well, but where was I to get a cart at that time of night, with
- the city gates shut?
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr Long explained that his servant was a wise and resourceful man and
- would probably get one if I would come in and have dinner. So the two
- members of the Travellers' Club sat down to an excellent dinner—a
- Chinese cook doesn't spoil a dinner because you are two hours late—and
- we tried to take a flash-light photograph of the entertainment. Alas! I
- was not fortunate that day; something went wrong with the magnesium light
- and we burnt up most things. However, we ourselves were all right, and at
- two o'clock in the morning Mr Long's servant's uncle, or cousin, or some
- relative, arrived with a Peking cart and a good substantial mule. I
- confess I was a bit doubtful about the journey home because I knew the
- state of repair, or rather disrepair, of a couple of bridges we had to
- cross, but they were negotiated, and just as the dawn was beginning to
- break I arrived at the mission compound and rewarded the adventurous men
- who had had charge of me with what seemed to them much silver and to me
- very little. I have been to many dinners in my life, but the last meeting
- of the Travellers' Club at Pao Ting Fu remains engraved on my memory.
- </p>
- <p>
- Yet a little longer I waited in Pao Ting Fu before starting on my Siberian
- trip, for the start was to be made from Tientsin and the missionaries were
- going there in house-boats. They were bound for Pei Ta Ho for their summer
- holiday and the first stage of the journey was down the Ching River to
- Tientsin. I thought it would be rather a pleasant way of getting over the
- country, and it would be pleasant too to have company. I am not enamoured
- of my own society; I can manage alone, but company certainly has great
- charms.
- </p>
- <p>
- So I waited, and while I waited I bought curios.
- </p>
- <p>
- In Pao Ting Fu in the revolution there was a great deal of looting done,
- and when order reigned again it was as much as a man's life was worth to
- try and dispose of any of his loot. A foreigner who would take the things
- right out of the country was a perfect godsend, and once it was known I
- was buying, men waited for me the livelong day, and I only had to put my
- nose outside the house to be pounced upon by a would-be seller. I have had
- as many as nine men selling at once; they enlisted the servants, and china
- ranged round the kitchen floor, and embroideries, brass and mirrors were
- stowed away in the pantry. Indeed I and my followers must have been an
- awful nuisance to the missionaries. They knew no English, but as I could
- count a little in Chinese, when we could not get an interpreter we
- managed; and I expect I bought an immense amount of rubbish, but never in
- my life have I had greater satisfaction in spending money. More than ever
- was I pleased when I unpacked in England, and I have been pleased ever
- since.
- </p>
- <p>
- Those sellers were persistent. They said in effect that never before had
- they had such a chance and they were going to make the best of it. We
- engaged house-boats for our transit; we went down to those boats, we
- pushed off from the shore, and even then there were sellers bent on making
- the best of their last chance. I bought there on the boat a royal blue
- vase for two dollars and a quaint old brass mirror in a carved wooden
- frame also for two dollars, and then the boatmen cleared off the merchants
- and we started.
- </p>
- <p>
- I expect on the banks of the Euphrates or the Tigris in the days before
- the dawn of history men went backwards and forwards in boats like these we
- embarked in on the little river just outside the south gate of Pao Ting
- Fu. We had three boats. Dr and Mrs Lewis and their children had the
- largest, with their servants, and we all made arrangements to mess on
- board their boat. Miss Newton and a friend had another, with more of the
- servants, and I, like a millionaire, had one all to myself. I had parted
- with the master of transport at Pao Ting Fu, but Hsu Sen, one of the
- Lewis's servants, waited upon me and made up my bed in the open part of
- the boat under a little roof. The cabins were behind, low little places
- like rabbit hutches, with little windows and little doors through which I
- could get by going down on my knees. I used them only for my luggage, so
- was enabled to offer a passage to a sewing-woman who would be exceedingly
- useful to the missionaries. She had had her feet bound in her youth and
- was rather crippled in consequence, and she bought her own food, as I
- bought my water, at the wayside places as we passed. She was a foolish
- soul, like most Chinese women, and took great interest in Buchanan,
- offering him always a share of her own meals, which consisted apparently
- largely of cucumbers and the tasteless Chinese melon. Now James Buchanan
- was extremely polite, always accepting what was offered him, but he could
- not possibly eat cucumber and melon, and when I went to bed at night I
- often came in contact with something cold and clammy which invariably
- turned out to be fragments of the sewing-woman's meals bestowed upon my
- courtly little dog. I forgave him because of his good manners. There
- really was nowhere else to hide them.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were pleasant days we spent meandering down the river. We passed by
- little farms; we passed by villages, by fishing traps, by walled cities.
- Hsi An Fu, with the water of the river flowing at the foot of its
- castellated walls, was like a city of romance, and when we came upon
- little marketplaces by the water's edge the romance deepened, for we knew
- then how the people lived. Sometimes we paused and bought provisions;
- sometimes we got out and strolled along the banks in the pleasant summer
- weather. Never have I gone a more delightful or more unique voyage. And at
- last we arrived at Tientsin and I parted from my friends, and they went on
- to Pei Ta Ho and I to Astor House to prepare for my journey east and
- north.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so I left China, China where I had dwelt for sixteen months, China
- that has been civilised so long and is a world apart, and now I sit in my
- comfortable sitting-room in England and read what the papers say of China;
- and the China I know and the China of the newspapers is quite a different
- place. It is another world. China has come into the war. On our side, of
- course: the Chinaman is far too astute to meddle with a losing cause. But,
- after all, what do the peasants of Chihli and the cave-dwellers in the <i>yaos</i>
- of Shansi know about a world's war? The very, very small section that
- rules China manages these affairs, and the mass of the population are
- exactly as they were in the days of the Cæsars, or before the first
- dynasty in Egypt for that matter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “China,” said one day to me a man who knew it well commercially, just
- before I left, “was never in so promising a condition. All the taxes are
- coming in and money was never so easy to get.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There was a row over the new tax,” said a missionary sadly, in the part I
- know well, “in a little village beyond there. The village attacked the
- tax-collectors and the soldiers fell upon the villagers and thirteen men
- were killed. Oh, I know they say it is only nominal, but what is merely
- nominal to outsiders is their all to these poor villagers. They must pay
- the tax and starve, or resist and be killed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He did not say they were between the devil and the deep sea, because he
- was a missionary, but I said it for him, and there were two cases like
- that which came within my ken during my last month in China.
- </p>
- <p>
- The fact of the matter is, I suppose, that outsiders can only judge
- generally, and China is true to type, the individual has never counted
- there and he does not count yet. What are a few thousand unpaid soldiers
- revolting in Kalgan? What a robber desolating Kansu? A score or two of
- villagers killed because they could not pay a tax? Absolutely nothing in
- the general crowd. I, being a woman, and a woman from the new nations of
- the south, cannot help feeling, and feeling strongly, the individual ought
- to count, that no nation can be really prosperous until the individual
- with but few exceptions is well-to-do and happy. I should like to rule out
- the “few exceptions,” but that would be asking too much of this present
- world. At least I like to think that most people have a chance of
- happiness, but I feel in China that not a tenth of the population has
- that.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0194.jpg" alt="0194 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0194.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0195.jpg" alt="0195 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0195.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- China left a curious impression upon my mind. The people are courteous and
- kindly, far more courteous than would be the same class of people in
- England, and yet I came back from the interior with a strong feeling that
- it is unsafe, not because of the general hostility of the people—they
- are not hostile—but because suffering and life count for so little.
- They themselves suffer and die by the thousand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What! Bring a daughter-in-law to see the doctor in the middle of the
- harvest! Impossible!” And yet they knew she was suffering agony, that
- seeing the doctor was her only chance of sight! But she did not get it.
- They were harvesting and no one could be spared!
- </p>
- <p>
- What is the life then of a foreign barbarian more or less? These
- courteous, kindly, dirty folk who look upon one as a menagerie would look
- on with equal interest at one's death. They might stretch out a hand to
- help, just as a man in England might stop another from ill-treating a
- horse, though for one who would put himself out two would pass by with a
- shrug of the shoulders and a feeling that it wras no business of theirs.
- Every day of their lives the majority look upon the suffering of their
- women and think nothing of it. The desire of the average man is to have a
- wife who has so suffered. I do not know whether the keeping of the women
- in a state of subserviency has reacted upon the nation at large, but I
- should think it has hampered it beyond words. Nothing—nothing made
- me so ardent a believer in the rights of women as my visit to China.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Women in England,” said a man to me the other day, a foreigner, one of
- our Allies, “deserve the vote, but the Continental women are babies. They
- cannot have it.” So are the Chinese women babies, very helpless babies
- indeed, and I feel, and feel very strongly indeed, that until China
- educates her women, makes them an efficient half of the nation, not merely
- man's toy and his slave, China will always lag behind in the world's
- progress.
- </p>
- <p>
- Already China is split up into “spheres of influence.” Whether she likes
- it or not, she must realise that Russian misrule is paramount in the great
- steppes of the north; Japan rules to a great extent in the north-east, her
- railway from Mukden to Chang Ch'un is a model of efficiency; Britain
- counts her influence as the most important along the valley of the Yang
- Tze Kiang, and France has some say in Yunnan. I cannot help thinking that
- it would be a great day for China, for the welfare of her toiling
- millions, millions toiling without hope, if she were partitioned up among
- the stable nations of the earth—that is to say, between Japan,
- Britain and France. And having said so much, I refer my readers to Mr
- Farrer for the other point of view. It is diametrically opposed to mine.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IX—KHARBIN AND VLADIVOSTOK
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t Tientsin I
- sweltered in the Astor House, and I put it on record that I found it
- hotter in Northern China than I did on the Guinea coast in West Africa. It
- was probably, of course, the conditions under which I lived, for the hotel
- had been so well arranged for the bitter winter it was impossible to get a
- thorough draught of air through any of the rooms. James Buchanan did not
- like it either, for in the British concessions in China dogs come under
- suspicion of hydrophobia and have always to be on the leash, wherefore, of
- course, I had to take the poor little chap out into the Chinese quarter
- before he could have a proper run, and he spent a great deal more time
- shut up in my bedroom than he or I liked.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Tientsin was a place apart, not exactly Chinese as I know China—certainly
- not Europe; it remains in my mind as a place where Chinese art learns to
- accommodate itself to European needs. All the nations of the world East
- and West meet there: in the British quarter were the Sikhs and other
- Indian nationalities, and in the French the streets were kept by Anamites
- in quaint peaked straw hats. I loved those streets of Tientsin that made
- me feel so safe and yet gave me a delightful feeling of adventure—adventure
- that cost me nothing; and I always knew I could go and dine with a friend
- or come back and exchange ideas with somebody who spoke my own tongue. But
- Tientsin wasn't any good to me as a traveller. It has been written about
- for the last sixty years or more. I went on.
- </p>
- <p>
- One night Buchanan and I, without a servant—we missed the servant we
- always had in China—wended our way down to the railway station and
- ensconced ourselves in a first-class carriage bound for Mukden. The train
- didn't start till some ungodly hour of the night, but as it was in the
- station I got permission to take my place early, and with rugs and
- cushions made myself comfortable and was sound asleep long before we
- started. When I wakened I was well on the way to my destination.
- </p>
- <p>
- I made friends with a British officer of Marines who, with his sister, was
- coming back across Russia. He had been learning Japanese, and I corrected
- another wrong impression. The British do sometimes learn a language other
- than their own. At Mukden we dined and had a bath. I find henceforth that
- all my stopping-places are punctuated by baths, or by the fact that a bath
- was not procurable. A night and day in the train made one desirable at
- Mukden, and a hotel run by capable Japanese made it a delight. The
- Japanese, as far as I could see, run Manchuria; must be more powerful than
- ever now Russia is out of it; Kharbin is Russian, Mukden Japanese. The
- train from there to Chang Ch'un is Japanese, and we all travelled in a
- large open carriage, clean and, considering how packed it was, fairly
- airy. There was room for everybody to lie down, just room, and the
- efficient Japanese parted me from my treasured James Buchanan and put him,
- howling miserably, into a big box—rather a dirty box; I suppose they
- don't think much of animals—in another compartment. I climbed over
- much luggage and crawled under a good deal more to see that all was right
- with him, and the Japanese guards looked upon me as a mild sort of lunatic
- and smiled contemptuously. I don't like being looked upon with contempt by
- Orientals, so I was a little ruffled when I came back to my own seat. Then
- I was amused.
- </p>
- <p>
- Naturally among such a crowd I made no attempt to undress for the night,
- merely contenting myself with taking off my boots. But the man next me, a
- Japanese naval officer, with whom I conversed in French, had quite
- different views. My French was rather bad and so was his in a different
- way, so we did not get on very fast. I fear I left him with the impression
- that I was an Austrian, for he never seemed to have heard of Australia.
- However, we showed each other our good will. Then he proceeded to undress.
- Never have I seen the process more nattily accomplished. How he slipped
- out of blue cloth and gold lace into a kimono I'm sure I don't know,
- though he did it under my very eyes, and then, with praiseworthy
- forethought, he took the links and studs out of his shirt and put them
- into a clean one ready for the morrow, stowed them both away in his little
- trunk, settled himself down on his couch and gave himself up to a
- cigarette and conversation. I smoked too—one of his cigarettes—and
- we both went to sleep amicably, and with the morning we arrived at Chang
- Ch'un, and poor little Buchanan made the welkin ring when he saw me and
- found himself caged in a barred box. However that was soon settled, and he
- told me how infinitely preferable from a dog's point of view are the free
- and easy trains of Russia and China to the well-managed ones of Japan.
- </p>
- <p>
- These towns on the great railway are weird little places, merely scattered
- houses and wide roads leading out into the great plain, and the railway
- comes out of the distance and goes away into the distance. And the people
- who inhabit them seem to be a conglomeration of nations, perhaps the
- residuum of all the nations. Here the marine officer and his sister and I
- fell into the hands of a strange-looking individual who might have been a
- cross between a Russian Pole and a Chinaman, with a dash of Korean thrown
- in, and he undertook to take us to a better hotel than that
- usually-frequented by visitors to Chang Ch'un. I confess I wonder what
- sort of people do visit Chang Ch'un, not the British tourist as a rule,
- and if the principal hotel is worse than the ramshackle place where we had
- breakfast, it must be bad. Still it was pleasant in the brilliant warm
- sunshine, even though it was lucky we had bathed the night before at
- Mukden, for the best they could do here was to show us into the most
- primitive of bedrooms, the very first effort in the way of a bedroom, I
- should think, after people had given up <i>k'angs</i>, and there I met a
- very small portion of water in a very small basin alongside an exceedingly
- frowsy bed and made an effort to wash away the stains of a night's travel.
- Now such a beginning to the day would effectually disgust me; then, fresh
- from the discomforts of Chinese travel, I found it all in the day's work.
- </p>
- <p>
- I found too that I had made a mistake and not brought enough money with
- me. Before I had paid for Buchanan's ticket I had parted with every penny
- I possessed and could not possibly get any more till I arrived at the Hong
- Kong and Shanghai Bank at Kharbin. I am rather given to a mistake of that
- sort; I always feel my money is so much safer in the bank's charge than in
- mine.
- </p>
- <p>
- We went on through fertile Manchuria and I saw the rich fields that coming
- out I had passed over at night. This train was Russian, and presently
- there came along a soldier, a forerunner of an officer inspecting
- passengers and carriages. Promptly his eye fell on Buchanan, who was
- taking an intelligent interest in the scenery—he always insisted on
- looking out of the window—and I, seeing he, the soldier, was
- troubled, tried to tell him my intentions were good and I would pay at
- Kharbin; but I don't think I made myself understood, for he looked wildly
- round the compartment, seized the little dog, pushed him in a corner and
- threw a cushion over him. Both Buchanan and I were so surprised we kept
- quite still, and the Russian officer looked in, saw a solitary woman
- holding out her ticket and passed on, and not till he was well out of the
- way did James Buchanan, who was a jewel, poke up his pretty little head
- and make a few remarks upon the enormity of smuggling little dogs without
- paying their fares, which was evidently what I was doing.
- </p>
- <p>
- We arrived at Kharbin about nine o'clock at night, and as I stepped out on
- to a platform, where all the nations of the earth, in dirty clothes,
- seemed yelling in chorus, a man came along and spoke to me in English. The
- soldier who had aided and abetted in the smuggling of Buchanan was
- standing beside me, evidently expecting some little remembrance, and I was
- meditating borrowing from the officer of Marines, though, as they were
- going on and I was not, I did not much like it. And the voice in English
- asked did I want a hotel. I did, of course. The man said he was the
- courier of the Grand Hotel, but he had a little place of his own which was
- much better and he could make me very comfortable. Then I explained I
- could not get any money till the bank opened next day and he spread out
- his hands as a Chinaman might have done. “No matter, no matter,” he would
- pay, his purse was mine.
- </p>
- <p>
- Would I go to his house?
- </p>
- <p>
- Could I do anything else under the circumstances? And I promptly took him
- at his word and asked for a rouble—Kharbin is China, but the rouble
- was the current coin—and paid off the soldier for his services. I
- bade farewell to my friends and in a ramshackle droshky went away through
- the streets of Kharbin, and we drove so far I wondered if I had done
- wisely. I had, as it turned out.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I heard afterwards that even in those days anything might have
- happened in Kharbin, where the population consists of Japanese and Chinese
- and Russians and an evil combination of all three, to say nothing of a
- sprinkling of rascals from all the nations of the earth.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is not,” said a man who knew it well, “a decent Chinaman in the
- whole place.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In fact to all intents and purposes it is Russian. There were Russian
- students all in uniform in the streets, and bearded, belted drivers drove
- the droshkies with their extra horse in a trace beside the shafts, just as
- they did in Russia. Anyhow it seems to me the sins of Kharbin would be the
- vigorous primal sins of Russia, not the decadent sins of old-world China.
- </p>
- <p>
- Kharbin when I was there in 1914 had 60,000 inhabitants and 25,000 Russian
- soldiers guarding the railway in the district. The Russian police forbade
- me to take photographs, and you might take your choice: Chinese <i>hung hu
- tzes</i> or Russian brigands would rob and slay you on your very doorstep
- in the heart of the town. At least they would in 1914, and things are
- probably worse now. All the signs are in Russian and, after the Chinese,
- looked to me at first as if I should be able to understand them, but
- closer inspection convinced me that the letters, though I knew their
- shape, had been out all night and were coming home in not quite the
- condition we would wish them to be. There is a Chinese town without a wall
- a little way over the plain—like all other Chinese towns, a place of
- dirt and smells—and there is a great river, the Sungari, a tributary
- of the Amur, on which I first met the magnificent river steamers of these
- parts. Badly I wanted to photograph them, but the Russian police said “No,
- no,” I would have to get a permit from the colonel in command before that
- could be allowed, and the colonel in command was away and was not expected
- back till the middle of next week, by which time I expected to be in
- Vladivostok, if not in Kharbarosvk, for Kharbin was hardly inviting as a
- place of sojourn for a traveller. Mr Poland, as he called himself, did his
- best for me. He gave me a fairly large room with a bed in it, a chair, a
- table and a broken-down wardrobe that would not open. He had the family
- washing cleared out of the bath, so that I bathed amidst the fluttering
- damp garments of his numerous progeny, but still there was a bath and a
- bath heater that with a certain expenditure of wood could be made to
- produce hot water; and if it was rather a terrifying machine to be locked
- up with at close quarters, still it did aid me to arrive at a certain
- degree of cleanliness, and I had been long enough in China not to be
- carping.
- </p>
- <p>
- But it is dull eating in your bedroom, and I knew I had not done wisely,
- for even if the principal hotel had been uncomfortable—I am not
- saying it was, because I never went there—it would have been more
- amusing to watch other folks than to be alone.
- </p>
- <p>
- The day after I arrived I called upon Mr Sly, the British consul, and I
- was amused to hear the very dubious sounds that came from his room when I
- was announced.
- </p>
- <p>
- I cleared the air by saying hastily: “I'm not a distressed British subject
- and I don't want any money,” though I'm bound to say he looked kind enough
- to provide me with the wherewithal had I wanted it. Then he shook his head
- and expressed his disapproval of my method of arrival.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The last man who fell into Kharbin like that,” said he, “I hunted for a
- week, and two days later I attended his funeral,” so badly had he been
- man-handled. But that man, it seems, had plenty of money; it was wisdom he
- lacked. My trouble was the other way, certainly as far as money was
- concerned. It would never have been worth anyone's while to harm me for
- the sake of my possessions. I had fallen into the hands of a Polish Jew
- named Polonetzky, though he called himself Poland to me, feeling, I
- suppose, my English tongue was not equal to the more complicated word, and
- he dwelt in the Dome Stratkorskaya—remember Kharbin is China—and
- I promised if he dealt well by me that I would recommend his
- boarding-house to all my friends bound for Kharbin. He did deal well by
- me. So frightened was he about me that he would not let me out of his
- sight, or if he were not in attendance his wife or his brother was turned
- on to look after me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am very good friends,” said he, “with Mr Sly at present. I do not want
- anything to happen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr Sly, we found, knew one of my brothers and he very kindly asked me to
- dinner. That introduced me to the élite of the place, and after dinner—Chinese
- cooks are still excellent on the borders—we drove in his private
- carriage and ended the evening in the public gardens. The coachmen here
- are quite gorgeous affairs; no matter what their nondescript nationality—they
- are generally Russians, I think, though I have seen Chinamen, Tartars,
- driving like Jehu the son of Nimshi—they wear for full livery grey
- beaver hats with curly brims like Johnny Walker or the Corinthians in the
- days of the Regent. It took my breath away when I found myself bowling
- along behind two of these curly brimmed hats that I thought had passed
- away in the days of my grandfather.
- </p>
- <p>
- The gardens at Kharbin are a great institution. There in the summer's
- evening the paths were all lined with lamps; there were open-air
- restaurants; there were bands and fluttering flags; there were the most
- excellent ices and insidious drinks of all descriptions, and there were
- crowds of gaily dressed people—Monte Carlo in the heart of Central
- Asia! Kharbin in the summer is hot, very hot, and Kharbin in the winter is
- bitter cold. It is all ice and snow and has a temperature that ranges
- somewhere down to 40° Fahrenheit below zero, and this though the sun
- shines brilliantly. It is insidious cold that sneaks on you and takes you
- unawares, not like the bleak raw cold of England that makes the very most
- of itself. They told me a tale of a girl who had gone skating and when she
- came off the ice found that her feet were frozen, though she was unaware
- of her danger and had thought them all right. Dogs are often frozen in the
- streets and Chinamen too, for the Chinaman has a way of going to sleep in
- odd places, and many a one has slept his last sleep in the winter streets
- of Kharbin—the wide straggling streets with houses and gardens and
- vacant spaces just like the towns of Australia. A frontier town it is in
- effect. We have got beyond the teeming population of China.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I prepared to go first east to Vladivostok and then north to
- Siberia, and I asked advice of both the British consul and my
- self-appointed courier, Mr Poland.
- </p>
- <p>
- Certainly he took care of me, and the day before I started east he handed
- me over to his wife and suggested she should take me to the market and buy
- necessaries for my journey. It was only a little over twenty-four hours so
- it did not seem to me a matter of much consequence, but I felt it would be
- interesting to walk through the market. It was.
- </p>
- <p>
- This class of market, I find, is very much alike all over the world
- because they sell the necessaries of life to the people and it is only
- varied by the difference of the local products. Kharbin market was a
- series of great sheds, and though most of the stalls were kept by
- Chinamen, it differed from a market in a Chinese town in the fact that
- huge quantities of butter and cheese and cream were for sale. Your true
- Chinaman is shocked at the European taste for milk and butter and cream.
- He thinks it loathsome, and many a man is unable to sit at table and watch
- people eat these delicacies. Just as, of course, he is shocked at the
- taste that would put before a diner a huge joint of beef or mutton. These
- things Chinese refinement disguises. I suspect the proletariat with whom I
- came in contact in Shansi would gladly eat anything, but I speak of the
- refined Chinaman. Here in this market, whether he was refined or not, he
- had got over these fancies and there was much butter and delicious soured
- cream for sale. My Polish Jewess and I laboured under the usual difficulty
- of language, but she made me understand I had better buy a basket for my
- provisions, a plate, a knife, a fork—I had left these things behind
- in China, not thinking I should want them—a tumbler and a couple of
- kettles. No self-respecting person, according to her, would dream of
- travelling in Siberia without at least a couple of kettles. I laid in two
- of blue enamel ware and I am bound to say I blessed her forethought many
- and many a time.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then we proceeded to buy provisions, and here I lost my way. She engaged a
- stray Chinaman, at least I think he was a Chinaman, with a dash of the
- gorilla in him, to carry the goods, and I thought she was provisioning her
- family against a siege or that perhaps there was only one market a month
- in Kharbin. Anyhow I did not feel called upon to interfere. It didn't seem
- any concern of mine and she had a large little family. We bought bread in
- large quantities, ten cucumbers, two pounds of butter, two pounds of cream—for
- these we bought earthenware jars—two dozen bananas, ten eggs and two
- pounds of tea. And then I discovered these were the provisions for my
- journey to Vladivostok, twenty-seven hours away! I never quite knew why I
- bought provisions at all, for the train stopped at stations where there
- were restaurants even though there was no restaurant car attached to it.
- Mr Sly warned me to travel first class and I had had no thought of doing
- aught else, for travelling is very cheap and very good in Russia, but Mr
- Poland thought differently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I arrange,” said he, “I arrange, and you see if you are not comfortable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I am bound to say I was, very comfortable, for Buchanan and I had a very
- nice second-class carriage all to ourselves. At every station a conductor
- appeared to know if I wanted boiling water, and we had any amount of good
- things to eat, for the ten eggs had been hard boiled by Mrs “Poland,” and
- the bread and butter and cream and cucumbers and bananas were as good as
- ever I have tasted. I also had two pounds of loaf sugar, German beet, I
- think, and some lemons.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so we went east through the wooded hills of Manchuria. They were
- covered with lush grass restfully green, and there were flowers, purple
- and white and yellow and red, lifting their starry faces to the cloudy
- sky, and a soft damp air blew in through the open window. Such a change it
- was after China, with its hard blue skies, brilliant sunshine and dry,
- invigorating air. But the Manchus were industrious as the Chinese
- themselves, and where there were fields the crops were tended as carefully
- as those in China proper, only in between were the pasture-lands and the
- flowers that were a delight to me, who had not seen a flower save those in
- pots since I came to China.
- </p>
- <p>
- I spread out my rugs and cushions and, taking off my clothes and getting
- into a kimono—also bought in the Kharbin market; a man's kimono as
- the women's are too narrow—I slept peacefully, and in the morning I
- found we had climbed to the top of the ridge, the watershed, the pleasant
- rain was falling softly, all around was the riotous green, and peasants,
- Russian and Chinese, came selling sweet red raspberries in little baskets
- of green twigs.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the flowers, the flowers of Siberia! After all I had heard about them,
- they were still something more beautiful than I could have hoped for; and
- then the rain passed, the life-giving rain, the rain that smoothed away
- all harshness and gave such a charm and a softness to the scenery. And it
- was vast. China was so crowded I never had a sense of vastness there; but
- this was like Australia, great stretches of land under the sky, green,
- rich lush green, and away in the distance was a dim line of blue hills.
- Then would come a little corrugated-iron-roofed town sprawled out over the
- mighty plain, a pathway to it across the surrounding green, and then the
- sun came out and the clouds threw great shadows and there was room to see
- the outline of their shapes on the green grass.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were Chinese still on the stations, but they were becoming more and
- more Russianised. They still wore queues, but they had belted Russian
- blouses and top-boots, and they mixed on friendly terms with
- flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Russians similarly attired. And the evening
- shadows gathered again and in the new world we steamed into Vladivostok.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Russians I came across did not appreciate fresh air. The porter of a
- hotel captured me and Buchanan, and when we arrived on a hot July night I
- was shown into a bedroom with double windows hermetically sealed and the
- cracks stopped up with cotton wool!
- </p>
- <p>
- I protested vehemently and the hotel porter looked at me in astonishment.
- Tear down those carefully stopped-up cracks! Perish the thought. However,
- I persuaded him down that cotton wool must come, and he pulled it down
- regretfully. I called at the British consulate next day and asked them to
- recommend me to the best hotel, but they told me I was already there and
- could not better myself, so I gave myself up to exploring the town in the
- Far East where now the Czech Slovaks have established themselves.
- </p>
- <p>
- It is a beautifully situated town set in the hills alongside a narrow arm
- of the sea, rather a grey sea with a grey sky overhead, and the hills
- around were covered with the luxuriant green of midsummer, midsummer in a
- land where it is winter almost to June. The principal buildings in
- Vladivostok are rather fine, but they are all along the shore, and once
- you go back you come into the hills where the wood-paved streets very
- often are mere flights of steps. It is because of that sheltered arm of
- the sea that here is a town at all.
- </p>
- <p>
- Along the shore are all manner of craft. The British fleet had come on a
- visit, and grey and grim the ships lay there on the grey sea, like a
- Turner picture, with, for a dash of colour, the Union Jacks. The Russian
- fleet was there too, welcoming their guests, and I took a boat manned by a
- native of the country, Mongolian evidently, with, of course, an unknown
- tongue, but whether he was Gold or Gilyak I know not. He was a good
- boatman, for a nasty little sea got up and James Buchanan told me several
- times he did not like the new turn our voyaging had taken, and then, poor
- little dog, he was violently sick. I know the torments of sea-sickness are
- not lightly to be borne, so after sailing round the fleets I went ashore
- and studied the shipping from the firm land.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was glad then that Mr Sly at Kharbin had insisted that I should see the
- Russian port. The whole picture was framed in green, soft tender green,
- edged with grey mist, and all the old forgotten ships of wood, the ships
- that perhaps were sailed by my grandfather in the old East India Company,
- seemed to have found a resting-place here. They were drawn up against the
- shore or they were going down the bay with all their sails set, and the
- sunlight breaking through the clouds touched the white sails and made them
- mountains of snow. There was shipbuilding going on too, naturally—for
- are there not great stores of timber in the forests behind?—and
- there were ships unloading all manner of things. Ships brought vegetables
- and fruit; ships brought meat; there were fishing-boats, hundreds of them
- close against each other along the shore, and on all the small ships, at
- the mast-heads, were little fluttering white butterflies of flags. What
- they were there for I do not know, or what they denoted. Oh, the general
- who commands the Czech Slovaks has a splendid base. I wish him all
- success. And here were the sealing-ships, the ships that presently would
- go up to the rookeries to bring away the pelts.
- </p>
- <p>
- One of my brothers was once navigating lieutenant on the British ship that
- guarded the rookeries “north of 53°,” and I remembered, as Buchanan and I
- walked along the shore, the tales he had told me of life in these parts.
- His particular ship had acquired two sheep, rather an acquisition for men
- who had lived long off the Chinese coast, and had a surfeit of chickens;
- so while they were eating one, thinking to save the other a long sea
- voyage they landed him on an island, giving him in charge of the man, an
- Aleut Indian, my brother called him, who ruled the little place. Coming
- back they were reduced to salt and tinned food, but they cheered
- themselves with thoughts of the mutton chops that should regale them when
- they met again their sheep. Alas for those sailor-men! They found the
- Indian, but the sheep was not forthcoming.
- </p>
- <p>
- His whilom guardian was most polite. He gave them to understand he was
- deeply grieved, but unfortunately he had been obliged to slay the sheep as
- he was killing the fowls!
- </p>
- <p>
- The ward-room mess realised all too late that mutton was appreciated in
- other places than on board his Majesty's ships.
- </p>
- <p>
- I thought all the races of the earth met in Kharbin, but I don't know that
- this port does not run it very close. There were Japanese, Chinese,
- Russians, Koreans in horsehair hats and white garments; there were the
- aboriginal natives of the country and there were numberless Germans. And
- then, in July, 1914, these people, I think, had no thought of the World's
- War.
- </p>
- <p>
- And here I came across a new way of carrying, for all the porters had
- chairs strapped upon their backs and the load, whatever it was, was placed
- upon the chair. Of all ways I have seen, that way strikes me as being the
- best, for the weight is most evenly distributed. Most of the porters, I
- believe, were Koreans, though they did not wear white; nor did they wear a
- hat of any description; their long black, hair was twisted up like a
- woman's, but they were vigorous and stalwart. We left weakness behind us
- in China. Here the people looked as if they were meat-fed, and though they
- might be dirty—they generally were—they all looked as if they
- had enough.
- </p>
- <p>
- Always the principal streets were thronged with people. At night the town
- all lighted up is like a crescent of sparkling diamonds flung against the
- hill-sides, and when I went to the railway station to take train for
- Kharbarosvk, thirty hours away, at the junction of the Ussuri and the
- Amur, that large and spacious building was a seething mass of people of
- apparently all classes and all nationalities, and they were giving voice
- to their feelings at the top of their lungs. Everybody, I should think,
- had a grievance and was makin the most of it. I had not my capable Mr
- Poland to arrange for me, so I went first class—the exact fare I
- have forgotten, but it was ridiculously low—and Buchanan and I had a
- compartment all to ourselves. Indeed I believe we were the only
- first-class passengers. I had my basket and my kettles and I had laid in
- store of provisions, and we went away back west for a couple of hours, and
- then north into the spacious green country where there was room and more
- than room for everybody.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER X—ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREAT RIVERS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>ll the afternoon
- we went back on our tracks along the main line, the sea on one side and
- the green country, riotous, lush, luxuriant, on the other, till at last we
- reached the head of the gulf and took our last look at the Northern Sea;
- grey like a silver shield it spread before us, and right down to the very
- water's edge came the vivid green. And then we turned inland, and
- presently we left the main line and went north. Above was the grey sky,
- and the air was soft and cool and delicious. I had had too much
- stimulation and I welcomed, as I had done the rains after the summer in my
- youth, the soft freshness of the Siberian summer.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were soldiers everywhere, tall, strapping, virile Russians; there
- were peasants in belted, blouses, with collars all of needlework; and
- there were Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, and the natives of the country, men
- with a strong Mongolian cast of countenance. The country itself was
- strangely empty after teeming China, but these all travelled by train or
- were to be found on the railway stations and at the fishing stations that
- we passed, but apparently I was the only bloated aristocrat who travelled
- first class. In normal times this made travelling fairly easy in Russia,
- for it was very cheap and you could generally get a carriage to yourself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Oh! but it was lovely; the greenness of the country was a rest to eyes
- wearied with the dust and dirt of China. And there were trees—not
- trees denuded of all but enough timber to make a bare livelihood possible,
- but trees growing luxuriantly in abundant leaf after their own free will,
- oaks and firs and white-stemmed, graceful birches bending daintily before
- the soft breeze. At the stations the natives, exactly like Chinamen, dirty
- and in rags, brought strawberries for sale; and there were always flowers—purple
- vetches and gorgeous red poppies, tall foxgloves and blue spikes of
- larkspur. The very antithesis of China it was, for this was waste land and
- undeveloped. The very engines were run with wood, and there were stacks of
- wood by the wayside waiting to be burnt. I was sorry—I could not but
- be sorry. I have seen my own people cut down the great forests of Western
- Victoria, and here were people doing the same, with exactly the same
- wanton extravagance, and in this country, with its seven months of bitter
- winter, in all probability the trees take three times as long to come to
- maturity. But it is virgin land, this glorious fertile country, and was
- practically uninhabited till the Russian Government planted here and there
- bands of Cossacks who, they say, made no endeavour to develop the land.
- The Koreans and the Japanese and the Chinese came creeping in, but the
- Russians made an effort to keep them out. But still the population is
- scanty. Always, though it was before the war, there were soldiers—soldiers
- singly, soldiers in pairs, soldiers in little bands; a horseman appeared
- on a lonely road, he was a soldier; a man came along driving a cart, he
- was a soldier; but the people we saw were few, for the rigours of this
- lovely land in the winter are terrible, and this was the dreaded land
- where Russia sent her exiles a long, long way from home.
- </p>
- <p>
- Farther we went into the hills; a cuckoo called in the cool and dewy
- morning; there were lonely little cottages with wooden roofs and log
- walls; there were flowering creepers round the windows, and once I saw a
- woman's wistful face peeping out at the passing train, the new train that
- at last was bringing her nearer the old home and that yet seemed to
- emphasise the distance. We went along by a river, the Ussuri, that wound
- its way among the wooded green hills and by still pools of water that
- reflected in their depths the blue sky, soft with snow-white clouds. A
- glorious land this land of exile! At the next station we stopped at the
- people were seated at a table having a meal under the shade of the trees.
- Then there was a lonely cross of new wood; someone had been laid in his
- long last home in the wilderness and would never go back to Holy Russia
- again; and again I thought of the woman's wistful face that peered out of
- the flower-bordered window.
- </p>
- <p>
- This is a new line. Formerly the way to Kharbarosvk was down the Amur
- river from the west, and that, I suppose, is why all this country of the
- Amur Province south and east of the river is so lonely.
- </p>
- <p>
- As we neared Kharbarosvk came signs of settlement, the signs of settlement
- I had been accustomed to in Australia. There were tree stumps, more and
- more, and anything more desolate than a forest of newly cut tree stumps I
- don't know. It always spells to me ruthless destruction. I am sure it did
- here, for they cut down recklessly, sweeping all before them. It seemed to
- cry out, as all newly settled land that ever I have seen, and I have seen
- a good deal, the distaste of the people who here mean to make their homes.
- These are not our trees, they say; they are not beautiful like the trees
- of our own old home; let us cut them down, there are plenty; by and by
- when we have time, when we are settled, we will plant trees that really
- are worth growing. We shall not see them, of course, our children will
- benefit little; but they will be nice for our grandchildren, if we hold on
- so long. But no one believes they will stay so long; they hope to make
- money and go back. Meanwhile they want the timber, but they neglect to
- plant fresh trees.
- </p>
- <p>
- They wanted the timber to build Kharbarosvk. This is a town of the
- outposts, a frontier town; there are no towns like it in the British
- Isles, where they value their land and build towns compactly, but I have
- seen its counterpart many a time in Australia, and I know there must be
- its like in America and Canada. It straggled all along the river bank, and
- its wide streets, streets paved, or rather floored, here and there with
- planks of wood, were sparsely planted with houses. In one respect
- Australian towns of the frontier are much wiser. When there is a train
- they do build their stations with some regard for the comfort and
- convenience of the inhabitants. In Russia wherever I have been the railway
- station is a long distance, sometimes half-an-hour's drive, from the town
- it serves. I suppose it is one of the evils of the last bad regime and
- that in the future, the future which is for the people, it will be
- remedied, but it is difficult to see what purpose it serves. I had to get
- a droshky to the hotel. We drove first along a country road, then through
- the wide grass-grown streets of the town, and I arrived at the principal
- hotel, kept by a German on Russian lines, for the restaurant was perfectly
- distinct from the living-rooms. I put it on record it was an excellent
- restaurant; I remember that cold soup—the day was hot—and that
- most fragrant coffee still.
- </p>
- <p>
- From the windows of my bedroom I saw another of the world's great rivers.
- I looked away over a wide expanse of water sparkling in the sunshine: it
- was the junction of the Ussuri and the Amur, and it was like a great lake
- or the sea. It was very, very still, clear as glass, and the blue sky and
- white clouds were reflected in it, and there were green islands and low
- green banks. All was colour, but soft colour without outlines, like a
- Turner picture.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Amur is hard frozen for about five months of the year and for about
- two more is neither good solid ice nor navigable water. It is made by the
- joining of the Shilka and the Aigun in about lat. 53° N. 121° E., and,
- counting in the Shilka, must be nearly three thousand miles in length, and
- close on two thousand miles have I now travelled. I don't know the Amur,
- of course, but at least I may claim to have been introduced to it, and
- that, I think, is more than the majority of Englishmen may do. And oh, it
- is a mighty river! At Kharbarosvk, over a thousand versts—about six
- hundred and forty miles—from the sea, it is at least a mile and a
- third wide, and towards the mouth, what with backwaters and swamps, it
- takes up sometimes about forty miles of country, while the main channel is
- often nearly three miles wide. It rises in the hills of Trans-Baikal—the
- Yablonoi Mountains we used to call them when I was at school. Really I
- think it is the watershed that runs up East Central Siberia and turns the
- waters to the shallow Sea of Okhotsk; and it cuts its way through wooded
- hills among rich land hardly as yet touched by agriculture, beautiful,
- lovely hills they are, steep and wooded. It climbs down into the flat
- country and then again, just before it reaches the sea, it is in the
- hills, colder hills this time, though the Amur falls into the sea on much
- the same parallel of latitude as that which sees it rise, only it seems to
- me that the farther you get east the colder and more extreme is the
- climate. For Nikolayeusk at the mouth is in the same latitude as London,
- but as a port it is closed for seven months of the year. True, the winter
- in Siberia is lovely, bright, clear cold, a hard, bright clearness, but
- the thermometer is often down below -40°
- </p>
- <p>
- Fahrenheit, and when that happens life is difficult for both man and
- beast. No wonder it is an empty river. The wonder to me is that there
- should be so much life as there is. For in those five months that it is
- open fine large steamers run from Nikolayeusk by Ivharbarosvk to
- Blagovesehensk, and smaller ones, but still rather fine, to Stretensk,
- where river navigation, for steamers of any size at any rate, ceases.
- There are the two months, April-May, September-October, when the river
- cannot be used at all, and there are the winter months when it may be, and
- is to a certain extent, used as a road, but with the thermometer down far
- below zero no one is particularly keen on travelling. It has its
- disadvantages. So most of the travelling is done in the summer months and
- in 1914 the steamers were crowded. Now, I suppose, they are fighting
- there. It is a country well worth fighting for.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a curious contrast, the lonely empty river and the packed steamer.
- It was an event when we passed another; two made a crowd; and very, very
- seldom did we pass more than two in a day. But it was delightful moving
- along, the great crowded steamer but a puny thing on the wide river, the
- waters still and clear, reflecting the blue sky and the soft white clouds
- and the low banks far, far away. When there were hills they were generally
- closer, as if the river had had more trouble in cutting a passage and
- therefore had not had time to spread itself as it did in the plain
- country. The hills were densely wooded, mostly with dark firs, with an
- occasional deciduous tree showing up brightly among the dark foliage, and
- about Blagovesehensk there is a beautiful oak known as the velvet oak, the
- wood of which is much sought for making furniture. However dense the
- forest, every here and there would be a wide swath of green bare of trees—a
- fire brake; for these forests in the summer burn fiercely, and coming back
- I saw the valleys thick with the curling blue wood smoke, smelt the
- aromatic smell of the burning fir woods, and at night saw the hills
- outlined in flames. It was a gorgeous sight, but it is desperately
- destructive for the country, especially a country where the wood grows so
- slowly. But at first there were no fires, and what struck me was the
- vastness and the loneliness of the mighty river. I had the same feeling on
- the Congo in the tropics, a great and lonely river with empty banks, but
- that was for a distance under two hundred miles. Here in the north the
- great lonely river went wandering on for ten times as far, and still the
- feeling when one stood apart from the steamer was of loneliness and
- grandeur. Man was such a small thing here. At night a little wind sighed
- over the waters or swept down between the hills; round the bows the water
- rose white; there was a waste of tossing water all round, under a lowering
- sky, and the far-away banks were lost in the gloom. A light would appear,
- perhaps two lights shining out of the darkness, but they only emphasised
- the loneliness. A wonderful river!
- </p>
- <p>
- The navigation of the river is a profession in itself. There is a school
- for the navigators at Blagoveschensk where they are properly trained. All
- along we came across the red beacons that mark the way, while beside them
- in the daytime we could see the cabins of the lonely men who tended them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Truly a voyage down the Amur in summer is not to be easily forgotten, and
- yet, sitting here writing about it in my garden in Kent, I sometimes
- wonder did I dream it all, the vastness and the loneliness and the
- grandeur that is so very different from the orchard land wherein is set my
- home. You do not see orchards on the Amur, the climate is too rigorous,
- and I doubt if they grow much beyond berries, a blue berry in large
- quantities, raspberries, and coming back we bought cucumbers.
- </p>
- <p>
- Oh, but it was lovely on that river. Dearly should I like to share its
- delights with a companion who could discuss it with me, but somehow it
- seems to be my lot to travel alone.
- </p>
- <p>
- Not, of course, that I was really alone. Though the steamers were few,
- perhaps because they were few, they were crowded. There were two companies
- on the river, the Sormovo or quick-sailing company, and the Amur Company;
- and I hereby put it on record that the Amur Company is much the best. The
- <i>John Cockerill</i>, named after some long-dead English engineer who was
- once on the Amur, is one of the best and most comfortable.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Kharbarosvk, finding the steamer did not leave till the evening of the
- next day, I had naturally gone to a hotel. It seemed the obvious thing to
- do. But I was wrong. The great Russian steamship companies, with a
- laudable desire to keep passengers and make them comfortable, always allow
- a would-be traveller to spend at least two days on board in the ports,
- paying, of course, for his food. And I, who had only come about thirty-six
- hours too soon, had actually put up at a hotel, with the <i>John Cockerill</i>
- lying at the wharf. The Russo-Asiatic Bank, as represented by a woman
- clerk, the only one there who could speak English, was shocked at my
- extravagance and said so. These women clerks were a little surprise for
- me, for in 1914 I was not accustomed to seeing women in banks, but here in
- Eastern Siberia—in Vladivostok, Kharbarosvk, and all the towns of
- the Amur—they were as usual as the men.
- </p>
- <p>
- The <i>John Cockerill</i> surprised me as much as I surprised the bank
- clerk. To begin with, I didn't realise it was the <i>John Cockerill</i>,
- for I could not read the Russian letters, and at first I did not recognise
- the name as pronounced by the Russians. She was a very gorgeous,
- comfortable ship, with a dining saloon and a lounge gorgeous in green
- velvet. And yet she was not a post steamer, but spent most of her time
- drawing barges laden with cargo, and stopped to discharge and take in at
- all manner of lonely little ports on the great river. She was a big
- steamer, divided into four classes, and was packed with passengers:
- Russians in the first, second and third class, with an occasional German
- or Japanese, and in the fourth an extraordinary medley of poorer Russians,
- Chinese and Gilyaks and Golds, the aboriginals of the country, men with a
- Mongolian east of countenance, long coarse blaek hair, very often beards,
- and dirty—the ordinary poor Chinaman is clean and tidy beside them.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the first class was luxurious. We had electric light and hot and cold
- water. The cabins were not to hold more than two, and you brought your own
- bedding. I dare say it could have been hired on the steamer, but the
- difficulty of language always stood in my way, and once away from the
- seaboard in North-Eastern Asia the only other European language beside
- Russian that is likely to be understood is German, and I have no German. I
- was lucky enough on the <i>John Cockerill</i> to find the wife of a
- Russian colonel who spoke a little English. She, with her husband, was
- taking a summer holiday by journeying up to Nikolayeusk, and she very
- kindly took Buchanan and me under her wing and interpreted for us. It was
- very nice for me, and the only thing I had to complain of on that steamer
- was the way in which the night watch promenading the deek shut my window
- and slammed to the shutters. They did it every night, with a care for my
- welfare I could have done without. In a river steamer the cabins are all
- in the centre with the deck round, and the watch evidently could not
- understand how any woman could really desire to sleep under an open
- window. I used to get up early in the morning and walk round the decks,
- and I found that first and second class invariably shut their windows
- tight, though the nights were always just pleasantly cool, and
- consequently those passages between the cabins smelt like a menagerie, and
- an ill-kept menagerie at that. They say Russians age early and invariably
- they are of a pallid complexion. I do not wonder, now that I have seen
- their dread of fresh air. Again and again I was told: “Draughts are not
- good!” Draughts! I'd rather sleep in a hurricane than in the hermetically
- sealed boxes in which those passengers stowed themselves on board the
- river steamers. On the <i>John Cockerill</i> the windows of the dining
- saloon and the lounge did open, but on the steamer on which I went up the
- river, the <i>Kanovina</i>, one of the “Sormovo” Company, and the mail
- steamer, there was only one saloon in the first class. We had our meals
- and we lived there. It was a fine large room placed for'ard in the ship's
- bows, with beautiful large windows of glass through which we could see
- excellently the scenery; but those windows were fast; they would not open;
- they were not made to open. The atmosphere was always thick when I went in
- for breakfast in the morning, and I used to make desperate efforts to get
- the little windows that ran round the top opened. I could not do it
- myself, as you had to get on the roof of the saloon, the deck where the
- look-out stood, and anyhow they were only little things, a foot high by
- two feet broad. But such an innovation was evidently regarded as
- dangerous. Besides the fact that draughts were bad, I have been assured
- that perhaps it was going to rain—the rain couldn't come in both
- sides—and at night I was assured they couldn't be opened because the
- lights would be confusing to other steamers!
- </p>
- <p>
- Nobody seemed to mind an atmosphere you could have cut with a knife. I am
- sure if the walls had been taken away it would have stood there in a solid
- block—a dark-coloured, high-smelling block, I should think. I gave
- up trying to do good to a community against its will and used to carry my
- meals outside and have them on the little tables that were dotted about
- the deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- After all, bar that little difficulty about the air—and certainly if
- right goes with the majority I have no cause of complaint, I was in a
- minority of one—those steamers made the most comfortable and
- cheapest form of travelling I have ever undertaken. From Kharbarosvk to
- Nikolayeusk for over three days' voyage my fare with a first-class cabin
- to myself was twelve roubles—about one pound four shillings. I came
- back by the mail steamer and it was fifteen roubles—about one pound
- ten shillings. This, of course, does not include food. Food on a Russian
- steamer you buy as you would on a railway train. You may make arrangements
- with the restaurant and have breakfast, luncheon, afternoon tea and dinner
- for so much a day; or you may have each meal separate and pay for it as
- you have it; or you may buy your food at the various stopping-places, get
- your kettles filled with hot water for a trifling tip, and feed yourself
- in the privacy of your own cabin. I found the simplest way, having no
- servant, was to pay so much a day—five shillings on the big
- steamers, four shillings on the smaller one—and live as I would do
- at a hotel. The food was excellent on the Amur Company's ships. We had
- chicken and salmon—not much salmon, it was too cheap—and
- sturgeon. Sturgeon, that prince of fish, was a treat, and caviare was as
- common as marmalade used to be on a British breakfast-table. It was
- generally of the red variety that we do not see here and looked not unlike
- clusters of red currants, only I don't know that I have ever seen currants
- in such quantities. I enjoyed it very much till one day, looking over the
- railing into the stern of the boat, where much of the food was roughly
- prepared—an unwise thing to do—I saw an extremely dirty woman
- of the country, a Gilyak, in an extremely dirty garment, with her dirty
- bare arms plunged to the elbow in the red caviare she was preparing for
- the table. Then I discovered for a little while that I didn't much fancy
- caviare. But I wish I had some of that nice red caviare now.
- </p>
- <p>
- The second class differed but little from the first. There was not so much
- decoration about the saloons, and on the <i>John Cockerill</i>, where the
- first class had two rooms, they had only one; and the food was much the
- same, only not so many courses. There was plenty, and they only paid three
- shillings a day for the four meals. The people were much the same as we in
- the first class, and I met a girl from Samara, in Central Russia, who
- spoke a little French. She was a teacher and was going to Nikolayeusk for
- a holiday exactly as I have seen teachers here in England go to
- Switzerland.
- </p>
- <p>
- But between the first and second and the third and fourth class was a
- great gulf fixed. They were both on the lower deck, the third under the
- first and the fourth under the second, while amidships between them were
- the kitchens and the engines and the store of wood for fuel. The third had
- no cabins, but the people went to bed and apparently spent their days in
- places like old-fashioned dinner-wagons; and they bought their own food,
- either from the steamer or at the various stopping-places, and ate it on
- their beds, for they had no saloon. The fourth class was still more
- primitive. The passengers, men, women and children, were packed away upon
- shelves rising in three tiers, one above the other, and the place of each
- man and woman was marked out by posts. There was no effort made to provide
- separate accommodation for men and women. As far as I could see, they all
- herded together like cattle.
- </p>
- <p>
- The ship was crowded. The Russian colonel's wife and I used to walk up and
- down the long decks for exercise, with Buchanan in attendance, she
- improving her English and I learning no Russian. It is evidently quite the
- custom for the people of the great towns of the Amur to make every summer
- an excursion up the river, and the poorer people, the third and fourth
- class, go up to Nikolayeusk for the fishing. Hence those shelves crowded
- with dirty folk. There were troughs for washing outside the fourth class,
- I discovered, minor editions of our luxurious bathrooms in the first
- class, but I am bound to say they did not have much use. Washing even in
- this hot weather, and it certainly was pleasantly warm, was more honoured
- in the breach than in the observance. The only drawback to the bathrooms
- in the first class, from my point of view, was their want of air. They
- were built so that apparently there was no means of getting fresh air into
- them, and I always regarded myself as a very plucky woman when in the
- interests of cleanliness I had a bath. The hot water and the airlessness
- always brought me to such a condition of faintness that I generally had to
- rush out and lie on the couch in my cabin to recover, and then if somebody
- outside took it upon them to bang to the window I was reduced to the last
- gasp.
- </p>
- <p>
- The <i>John Cockerill</i> was run like a man-of-war. The bells struck the
- hours and half-hours, the captain and officers were clad in white and
- brass-bound, and the men were in orthodox sailor's rig. One man came and
- explained to me—he spoke no tongue that I could understand, but his
- meaning was obvious—that Buchanan was not allowed on the first-class
- deck, the rules and regulations, so said the colonel's wife, said he was
- not; but no one seemed to object, so I thought to smooth matters by paying
- half-a-rouble; then I found that every sailor I came across apparently
- made the same statement, and having listened to one or two, at last I
- decided to part with no more cash, and it was, I suppose, agreed that
- Buchanan had paid his footing, for they troubled me no more about him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Three or four times a day we pulled up at some little wayside place,
- generally only two or three log-houses with painted doors or windows, an
- occasional potato patch and huge stacks of wood to replenish the fuel of
- the steamer, and with much yelling they put out a long gangway, and while
- the wood was brought on board we all went ashore to see the country. The
- country was always exactly alike, vast and green and lonely, the sparse
- human habitations emphasising that vastness and loneliness. The people
- were few. The men wore belted blouses and high boots and very often,
- though it was summer, fur caps, and the women very voluminous and very
- dirty skirts with unbelted blouses, a shawl across their shoulders and a
- kerchief on their unkempt hair. They were dirty; they were untidy; they
- were uneducated; they belonged to the very poorest classes; and I think I
- can safely say that all the way from Kharbarosvk to Nikolayeusk the only
- attempt at farming I saw was in a few scattered places where the grass had
- been cut and tossed up into haycocks. And yet those people impressed upon
- me a sense of their virility and strength, a feeling that I had never had
- when moving among the Chinese, where every inch of land—bar the
- graves—is turned to good account. Was it the condition of the women?
- I wonder. I know I never saw one of those stalwart women pounding along on
- her big flat feet without a feeling of gladness and thankfulness. Here at
- least was good material. It was crude and rough, of course, but it was
- there waiting for the wheel of the potter. Shall we find the potter in the
- turmoil of the revolution and the war?
- </p>
- <p>
- We went on, north, north with a little of east, and it grew cooler and the
- twilight grew longer. I do not know how other people do, but I count my
- miles and realise distances from some distance I knew well in my youth. So
- I know that from Kharbarosvk to Nikolaycusk is a little farther away than
- is Melbourne from Sydney; and always we went by way of the great empty
- land, by way of the great empty river. Sometimes far in the distance we
- could see the blue hills; sometimes the hills were close; but always it
- was empty, because the few inhabitants, the house or two at the little
- stopping-places where were the piles of wood for the steamer, but
- emphasised the loneliness and emptiness. You could have put all the people
- we saw in a street of a suburb of London and lost them, and I suppose the
- distance traversed was as far as from London to Aberdeen. It was a
- beautiful land, a land with a wondrous charm, but it is waiting for the
- colonist who will dare the rigours of the winter and populate it.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last we steamed up to the port of Nikolayeusk, set at the entrance of
- the shallow Sea of Okhotsk, right away in the east of the world. When I
- set foot upon the wharf among all the barrels with which it was packed I
- could hardly believe I had come so far east, so far away from my regular
- beat. One of my brothers always declares I sent him to sea because my sex
- prevented me from going, and yet here I was, in spite of that grave
- disadvantage, in as remote a corner of the earth as even he might have
- hoped to attain.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a July day, sunny and warm. They had slain an Austrian archduke in
- Serbia and the world was on the verge of the war of the ages, but I knew
- nothing of all that. I stepped off the steamer and proceeded to
- investigate Nikolayeusk, well satisfied with the point at which I had
- arrived.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XI—THE ENDS OF THE EARTH
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>ikolayeusk seemed
- to me the ends of the earth. I hardly know why it should have done so, for
- I arrived there by way of a very comfortable steamer and I have made my
- way to very much more ungetatable places. I suppose the explanation is
- that all the other places I have visited I had looked up so long on the
- map that when I arrived I only felt I was attaining the goal I had set out
- to reach, whereas I must admit I had never heard of Nikolayeusk till Mr
- Sly, the British consul, sketched it out as the end of my itinerary on the
- Siberian rivers, and ten days later I found myself in the Far Eastern
- town. I remember one of my brothers writing to me once from
- Petropaulovski:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I always said my address would some day be Kamseatkha and here I am!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Well, I never said my address would be Nikolayeusk because I had never
- heard of it, but here I was nevertheless. The weather was warm, the sun
- poured down from a cloudless blue sky, and in the broad, grass-grown
- streets, such streets have I seen in Australian towns, when the faint
- breeze stirred the yellow dust rose on the air. And the town straggled all
- along the northern side of the river, a town of low, one-storeyed wooden
- houses for the most part, with an occasional two-storeyed house and heavy
- shutters to all the windows. There was a curious absence of stone, and the
- streets when they were paved at all were, as in Kharbarosvk, lines of
- planks, sometimes three, sometimes five planks wide, with a waste of dust
- or mud or grass, as the case might be, on either side.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Russians I found kindness itself. In Vladivostok I had met a man who
- knew one of my brothers—I sometimes wonder if I could get to such a
- remote corner of the earth that I should not meet someone who knew one of
- these ubiquitous brothers of mine—and this good friend, having
- sampled the family, took me on trust and found someone else who would give
- me a letter to the manager of the Russo-Asiatic Bank at Nikolayeusk. This
- was a godsend, for Mr Pauloff spoke excellent English, and he and his
- corresponding clerk, a Russian lady of middle age who had spent a long
- time in France, took me in hand and showed me the sights. Madame Schulmann
- and I and Buchanan drove all over the town in one of the most ancient
- victorias I have ever seen—the most ancient are in Saghalien, which
- is beyond the ends of the earth—and she very kindly took me to a
- meal at the principal hotel. I was staying on board the steamer while I
- looked around me. The visit with this lady decided me not to go there. It
- wras about four o'clock in the afternoon, so I don't know whether our meal
- was dinner or tea or luncheon; we had good soup, I remember, and nice
- wine, to say nothing of excellent coffee, but the atmosphere left much to
- be desired. I don't suppose the windows ever had been opened since the
- place was built, and no one seemed to see any necessity for opening them.
- My hostess smiled at my distress. She said she liked fresh air herself but
- that for a whole year she had lodged in a room where the windows would not
- open. She had wanted to have one of the panes—not the window, just
- one of the panes—made to open to admit fresh air, and had offered to
- do it at her own expense, but her landlord refused. It would spoil the
- look of the room. She advised me strongly if I wanted fresh air to stay as
- long as I could on board the steamer at the wharf, and I decided to take
- her advice.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Russo-Asiatic Bank was not unlike the banks I have seen in Australian
- townships, in that it was built of wood of one storey and the manager and
- his wife lived on the premises, but the roof was far more ornamental than
- Australia could stand and gave the touch of the East that made for
- romance. The manager was good enough to ask me to dinner and to include
- Buchanan in the invitation because I did not like to leave the poor little
- chap shut up in my cabin. This was really dinner, called so, and we had it
- at five o'clock of a hot summer's afternoon, a very excellent dinner, with
- delicious sour cream in the soup and excellent South Australian wine, not
- the stuff that passes for Australian wine in England and that so many
- people take medicinally, but really good wine, such as Australians
- themselves drink. The house was built with a curious lack of partitions
- that made for spaciousness, so that you wandered from one room to another,
- hardly knowing that you had gone from the sitting-room to the bedroom, and
- James Buchanan going on a voyage of discovery unfortunately found the
- cradle, to the dismay of his mistress. He stood and looked at it and
- barked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gracious me! What's this funny thing! I've never seen anything like it
- before!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Neither had I; but I was covered with shame when a wail proclaimed the
- presence of the son and heir.
- </p>
- <p>
- Naturally I expressed myself—truly—charmed with the town, and
- Mr Pauloff smiled and nodded at his wife, who spoke no English.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She hates it,” said he; “she has never been well since we came here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was white, poor little girl, as the paper on which this is written,
- and very frail-looking, but it never seemed to occur to anyone that it
- would be well to open the double windows, and so close was the air of the
- room that it made me feel sick and faint.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She never goes out,” said her husband. “She is not well enough.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I believe there was a time in our grandmothers' days when we too dreaded
- the fresh air.
- </p>
- <p>
- And in this the town differed markedly from any Australian towns I have
- known. The double windows were all tight shut these warm July days, with
- all the cracks stopped up with cotton wool, with often decorations of
- coloured ribbons or paper wandering across the space between. Also there
- were very heavy shutters, and I thought these must be to shut out the
- winter storms, but M. Pauloff did not seem to think much of the winter
- storms, though he admitted they had some bad blizzards and regularly the
- thermometer went down below -40° Fahrenheit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” he said, “we shut them at night, at four in the winter and at nine
- in the summer. Leave them open you cannot.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why?” I thought it was some device for keeping out still more air.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is danger,” said he—“danger from men.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do they steal?” said I, surprised.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And kill,” he added with conviction.
- </p>
- <p>
- It seems that when the Japanese invaded Saghalien, the great island which
- lies opposite the mouth of the Amur, they liberated at least thirty
- thousand convicts, and they burnt the records so that no one could prove
- anything against them, and the majority of these convicts were unluckily
- not all suffering political prisoners, but criminals, many of them of the
- deepest dye. These first made Saghalien an unwholesome place to live in,
- but gradually they migrated to the mainland, and Nikolayeusk and other
- towns of Eastern Siberia are by no means safe places in consequence.
- Madame Schulmann told me that many a time men were killed in the open
- streets and that going back to her lodgings on the dark winter evenings
- she was very much afraid and always tried to do it in daylight.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nikolayeusk is officially supposed to have thirteen thousand inhabitants,
- but really in the winter-time, says Mr Pauloff, they shrink to ten
- thousand, while in the summer they rise to over forty thousand, everybody
- coming for the fishing, the great salmon fisheries.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here is noting,” said he, “noting—only fish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And this remark he made at intervals. He could not reiterate it too often,
- as if he were warning me against expecting too much from this remote
- corner of the world. But indeed the fish interested me. The summer fishing
- was on while I was there, but that, it seems, is as nothing to the autumn
- fishing, when the fish rush into the wide river in solid blocks. The whole
- place then is given over to the fishing and the other trades that fishing
- calls into being to support it. All the summer the steamers coming down
- the river are crowded, and they bring great cargoes of timber; the wharves
- when I was there were covered with barrels and packing-cases containing,
- according to Mr Pauloff, “only air.” These were for the fish. And now,
- when the humble mackerel costs me at least ninepence or a shilling, I
- remember with longing the days when I used to see a man like a Chinaman,
- but not a Chinaman, a bamboo across his shoulder, and from each end a
- great fresh salmon slung, a salmon that was nearly as long as the bearer,
- and I could have bought the two for ten kopecks!
- </p>
- <p>
- He that will not when he may!
- </p>
- <p>
- But great as the trade was down the river, most eatables—groceries,
- flour and such-like things—came from Shanghai, and the ships that
- brought them took back wood to be made into furniture, and there was, when
- I was there, quite a flourishing trade in frozen meat with Australia,
- Nikolayeusk requiring about two hundred and forty thousand pounds in the
- year. In winter, of course, all the provisions are frozen; the milk is
- poured into basins, a stick is stuck in it and it freezes round it, so
- that a milk-seller instead of having a large can has an array of sticks on
- top of which is the milk frozen hard as a stone. Milk, meat, eggs, all
- provisions are frozen from October to May.
- </p>
- <p>
- I do not know what Nikolayeusk is doing now war and revolution have
- reached it. At least they have brought it into touch with the outer world.
- </p>
- <p>
- And having got so far I looked longingly out over the harbour and wondered
- whether I might not go to Saghalien.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr Pauloff laughed at my desires. If there was nothing to see in
- Nikolayeusk, there was less than nothing in Saghalien. It was dead. It
- never had been much and the Japanese invasion had killed it. Not that he
- harboured any animosity against the Japanese. Russians and Japanese, he
- declared, were on very friendly terms, and though they invaded Saghalien
- they did not disgrace their occupation by any atrocities. The Russian,
- everybody declared in Nikolayeusk, bridges the gulf between the white man
- and the yellow. Russian and Chinese peasants will work side by side in
- friendliest fashion; they will occupy the same boardinghouses; the Russian
- woman does not object to the Chinese as a husband, and the Russian takes a
- Chinese wife. Of course these are the peasant classes. The Russian
- authorities made very definite arrangements for keeping out Chinese from
- Siberia, as I saw presently when I went back up the river.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the more I thought of it the more determined I was not to go back till
- I had gone as far east as I possibly could go. The Russian Volunteer fleet
- I found called at Alexandrovsk regularly during the months the sea was
- open, making Nikolayeusk its most northern port of call. I could go by the
- steamer going down and be picked up by the one coming north. It would give
- me a couple of days in the island, and Mr Pauloff was of opinion that a
- couple of days would be far too long.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the <i>John Cockerill</i> was going back and Buchanan and I must find
- another roof and a resting-place. According to the inhabitants, it would
- not be safe to sleep in the streets, and I had conceived a distinct
- distaste for the hotel. But the <i>Erivan</i> lay in the stream and to
- that we transferred ourselves and our belongings, where the mate spoke
- English with a strong Glasgow accent and the steward had a smattering. It
- was only a smattering, however. I had had a very early lunch and no
- afternoon tea, so when I got on board at six in the evening I was
- decidedly hungry and demanded food, or rather when food might be expected.
- The steward was in a dilemma. It was distinctly too early for dinner, he
- considered, and too late for tea. He scratched his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lunch!” said he triumphantly, and ushered me into the saloon, where hung
- large photographs of the Tsar, the Tsarina and the good-looking little
- Tsarevitch. In the corner was an ikon, St Nicolas, I think, who protects
- sailors. And there at six o'clock in the evening I meekly sat down to
- luncheon all by myself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lying there I had a lovely view of the town. At night, like Vladivostok,
- it lay like a ring of diamonds along the shore of the river; and in the
- daytime the softly rounded green hills, the grey-blue sky and the
- grey-blue sea with the little white wavelets, and the little town just a
- line between the green and the blue, with the spires and domes of the
- churches and other public buildings, green and blue and red and white,
- made a view that was worth coming so far to see. There were ships in the
- bay too—not very big ships; but a ship always has an attraction: it
- has come from the unknown; it is about to go into the unknown—and as
- I sat on deck there came to me the mate with the Scots accent and
- explained all about the ships in sight.
- </p>
- <p>
- The place was a fort and they were going to make it a great harbour, to
- fill it up till the great ships should lie along the shore. It will take a
- good time, for we lay a long way out, but he never doubted the
- possibility; and meantime the goods come to the ships in the lighters in
- which they have already come down the river, and they are worked by
- labourers getting, according to the mate, twelve shillings a day.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dey carry near as much as we do,” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then there were other ships: a ship for fish, summer fish, for Japan,
- sealers for the rookeries, and ships loading timber for Kamseatkha. I
- thought I would like to emulate my brother and go there, and the Russky
- mate thought it would be quite possible, only very uncomfortable. It would
- take three months, said he, and it was rather late in the season now.
- Besides, these ships load themselves so with timber that there is only a
- narrow space on deck to walk on, and they are packed with passengers,
- mostly labourers, going up for the short summer season.
- </p>
- <p>
- My old trouble, want of air, followed me on board the <i>Erivan</i>. On
- deck it was cool, at night the thermometer registered about 55°
- Fahrenheit, but in my cabin Buehanan and I gasped with the thermometer at
- over 90°, and that with the port, a very small one, open. That stuffiness
- was horrible. The bathroom looked like a boiler with a tightfitting iron
- door right amidships, and having looked at it I had not the courage to
- shut myself in and take a bath. It seemed as if it would be burying myself
- alive. As it was, sleep down below I could not, and I used to steal up on
- deck and with plenty of rugs and cushions lay myself out along the seats
- and sleep in the fresh air; but a seat really does leave something to be
- desired in the way of luxury.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the early mornings were delightful. The first faint light showed a
- mist hanging over the green hills marking out their outlines, green and
- blue and grey; then it was all grey mist; but to the east was the crimson
- of the dawn, and we left our moorings early one morning and steamed into
- that crimson. The sun rose among silver and grey clouds, and rose again
- and again as we passed along the river and the mountains hid him from
- sight. There were long streaks of silver on the broad river; slowly the
- fir-clad hills emerged from the mist and the air was moist and fragrant;
- the scent of the sea and the fragrance of the pines was in it. A
- delicious, delicate northern sunrise it was; never before or since have I
- seen such a sunrise. Never again can I possibly see one more beautiful.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the great river widened. There were little settlements, the
- five-pointed tents of the Russian soldiers and many places for catching
- fish. No wonder the fish—fish is always salmon here—like this
- great -wide river. The brownish water flowed on swiftly and the morning
- wind whipped it into never-ending ripples that caught the sunlight. A
- wonderful river! A delightful river! I have grown enthusiastic over many
- rivers. I know the Murray in my own land and the great rivers of tropical
- Africa, the Congo, the Gambia, the Volta, grand and lovely all of them. I
- felt I had looked upon the glory of the Lord when I had looked upon them,
- but there was something in the tender beauty of the Amur, the summer
- beauty veiled in mist, the beauty that would last so short a time, that
- was best of all.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile the passengers and officers of the <i>Erivan</i> were much
- exercised in their minds over me. What could an Englishwoman want in
- Saghalien? To my surprise I found that none had ever stayed there before,
- though it was on record that one had once landed there from a steamer. The
- mate was scathing in his remarks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dere are skeeters,” said he, “big ones, I hear,” and he rolled his “r's”
- like a true Scotsman.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But where can I stay?” He shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In de hotel you cannot stay. It is impossible.” That I could quite
- believe, but all the same, if the hotel was impossible, where could I
- stay?
- </p>
- <p>
- However, here I was, and I did not intend to go back to Vladivostok by
- sea. At Alexandrosvk, the town of Saghalien, I proposed to land and I felt
- it was no good worrying till I got there.
- </p>
- <p>
- We entered De Castries Bay in a soft grey mist, a mist that veiled the
- mountains behind. Then the mist lifted and showed us the string of islands
- that guard the mouth of the bay, strung in a line like jewels set in the
- sea, and the hills on them were all crowned with firs; and then the mist
- dropped again, veiling all things.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a lonely place, where I, being a foreigner, was not allowed to
- land, and we did not go close up to the shore, but the shore came to us in
- great white whale-boats. Many peasants and soldiers got off here, and I
- saw saws and spades in the bundles, the bundles of emigrants. There were a
- few women amongst them, women with hard, elemental faces, so different
- from the Chinese, that were vacuous and refined. I remembered the women
- who had listened to the lecturer at Fen Chou Fu and I drew a long sigh of
- relief. It was refreshing to look at those big-hipped women, with their
- broad, strong feet and their broad, strong hands and the little dirty
- kerchiefs over their heads. Elemental, rough, rude, but I was glad of
- them. One was suckling a child in the boat, calmly, as if it were the most
- natural thing to do, and somehow it was good to see it. The beginning of
- life.
- </p>
- <p>
- The morning brought a dense mist, and as it cleared away it showed us a
- sparkling, smooth sea, greyish-blue like the skies above it, and a little
- wooden town nestling against fir-clad hills. We had arrived at
- Alexandrosvk and I wondered what would become of me.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then once again I learned what a kind place is this old world of ours
- that we abuse so often. I had gone on board that steamer without any
- introduction whatever, with only my passport to show that I was a
- respectable member of society. I knew nobody and saw no reason whatever
- why anyone should trouble themselves about me. But we carried
- distinguished passengers on board the <i>Erivan</i>. There was the
- Vice-Governor of Saghalien, his wife and son, with the soldiers in
- attendance, and a good-looking young fellow with short-cropped hair and
- dreamy eyes who was the Assistant Chief of Police of the island, and this
- man, by command of the Governor, took me in charge.
- </p>
- <p>
- Never again shall I hear of the Russian police without thinking of the
- deep debt of gratitude that I owe to Vladimir Merokushoff of Saghalien.
- </p>
- <p>
- I do not think as a rule that people land from steamers at Alexandrosvk on
- to red tapestry carpets under fluttering bruiting to the strains of a
- band. But we did; and the Chief of Police—he spoke no language but
- Russian—motioned me to wait a moment, and when the Governor had been
- safely despatched to his home he appeared on the scene with a victoria and
- drove me and Buchanan to the police station, a charming little
- one-storeyed building buried in greenery, and there he established us.
- Buchanan he appreciated as a dog likes to be appreciated, and he gave up
- to me his own bedroom, where the top pane of the window had actually been
- made to open. His sitting-room was a very bower of growing plants, and
- when I went to bed that night he brought his elderly working housekeeper,
- a plain-faced woman whom he called “Stera,” and made her bring her bed and
- lay it across my door, which opened into the sitting-room. It was no good
- my protesting; there she had to sleep. Poor old thing, she must have been
- glad my stay was not long. Every day she wore a blue skirt and a
- drab-coloured blouse, unbelted, and her grey hair twisted up into an
- untidy knot behind, but she was an excellent cook. That young man got
- himself into his everyday holland summer coat and to entertain me
- proceeded to lay in enough provisions to supply a hungry school. He showed
- me the things first to see if I liked them, as if I wouldn't have liked
- shark when people were so kind. But as a matter of fact everything was
- very good. He produced a large tin of crawling crayfish, and when I had
- expressed not only my approval but my delight, they appeared deliciously
- red and white for dinner, and then I found they were only <i>sakouska</i>—that
- is, the <i>hors d'ouvre</i> that the Russians take to whet their
- appetites. I have often lived well, but never better than when I, a
- stranger and a sojourner, was taken in charge by the hospitable Russian
- police, who would not let me pay one penny for my board and lodging. We
- fed all day long. I had only to come in for a bottle of wine or beer to be
- produced. I was given a <i>gens d'arme</i> to carry my camera and another
- to take care of Buchanan. Never surely was stranger so well done as I by
- hospitable Saghalien. The policeman made me understand he was an author
- and presented me with a couple of pamphlets he had written on Saghalien
- and its inhabitants, but though I treasure them I cannot read them. Then
- the Japanese photographer was sent for and he and I were taken sitting
- side by side on the bench in his leafy porch, and, to crown all, because I
- could speak no Russian, he sent for two girls who had been educated in
- Japan and who spoke English almost as well as I did myself, though they
- had never before spoken to an Englishwoman. Marie and Lariss Borodin were
- they, and their father kept the principal store in Alexandrosvk. They were
- dainty, pretty, dark-eyed girls and they were a godsend to me. They had a
- tea in my honour and introduced me to the manager of the coal mine of
- Saghalien and took care I should have all the information about the island
- it was in their power to supply.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were then about five thousand people there, one thousand in
- Alexandrosvk itself, but they were going daily, for the blight of the
- convict was over the beautiful land. The best coal mine is closed down on
- fire and the one whose manager I met was leased to a company by the year
- and worked by Chinese on most primitive lines. There is gold, he told me,
- this business man who surprised me by his lavish use of perfume, but he
- did not know whether it would pay for working—gold and coal as well
- would be almost too much good luck for one island—and there is
- naphtha everywhere on the east coast, but as it has never been struck they
- think that the main vein must come up somewhere under the sea. Still it is
- there waiting for the enterprising man who shall work it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Saghalien used to be as bad as Nikolayeusk, they told me, after the
- Japanese had evacuated the northern part; but now the most enterprising
- section of the convicts had betaken themselves to the mainland, and though
- the free settlers were few and far between, and the most of the people I
- saw were convicts, they were the harmless ones with all the devilment gone
- out of them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Alexandrosvk is a place of empty houses. When the Japanese came the people
- fled, leaving everything exactly as it was; and though the Japanese
- behaved with admirable restraint, considering they came as an invading
- army, many of these people never came back again, and the alertness in a
- bad cause which had sent many of the convicts there against their will
- sent them away again as soon as they were free. All down by the long
- wooden pier which stretches out into the sea are great wooden storehouses
- and barracks, empty, and a monument, if they needed it, to the courteous
- manner in which the Japanese make war. They had burnt the museum, they
- told me, and opened the prison doors and burnt the prison, but the other
- houses they had spared. And so there were many, many empty houses in
- Alexandrosvk.
- </p>
- <p>
- All the oldest carriages in the world have drifted to Saghalien.
- </p>
- <p>
- They are decrepit in Western Siberia, they are worse, if possible, in the
- East, but in the island of Saghalien I really don't know how they hold
- together. Perhaps they are not wanted very often. I hired the most archaic
- victoria I have ever seen and the two girls came for a drive with me all
- round the town and its neighbourhood. It was a drive to be remembered. The
- early summer was in all its full freshness, the red and white cows stood
- knee-deep in grass that was green and lush everywhere. There were
- fir-trees on the hills and on every spur of the hills, and there were
- hedges with dog-roses blossoming all over them; there were fields of dark
- blue iris; there were little red tiger lilies and a spiked heliotrope
- flower like veronica, only each bloom grew on a single stalk of its own;
- there were purple vetches and white spiræa growing in marshy places, and
- the land was thick with sweet-scented clover among which the bees were
- humming, and in a little village there was a Greek church that, set in its
- emerald-green field, was a very riot of colour. There were balls on the
- roof of royal blue, the roof itself was of pale green, the walls were of
- brown logs untouched by paint and the window edges were picked out in
- white. I photographed that picturesque little church, as I did the peasant
- women standing at the doors of their log huts and the queer old shandrydan
- in which we drove, but alas! all my photographs perished miserably in
- Russia. The girls wondered that I liked town and country so much, that I
- saw so much beauty in everything.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah! Madame,” they sighed, “but you can go away tomorrow! If only we could
- go!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They had been educated at a convent and they produced the English books
- they had read. They were very apologetic but they had found them rather
- tame. Had I read them? I smiled, for they all turned out to be the
- immortal works of Charles Garvice!
- </p>
- <p>
- And we had tea in the dining-room, where father slept because they were
- rather crowded, the store took up so much room; and it was a very nice tea
- too, with raspberry jam in saucers, which we ate Russian fashion with a
- spoon, and the roses in the garden tapped against the window-panes, asking
- to come in and join us, and Buchanan got what his soul loved, plenty of
- cake. They apologised because there was no fruit. No fruit save berries
- ripen in Saghalien and the strawberries would not be ready till well on in
- August. No words of mine can tell how kind they were to the stranger.
- </p>
- <p>
- I went back in the long twilight that was so cool and restful and sat
- outside the leafy shaded police station and killed mosquitoes, for the
- mate had heard aright, there were “skeeters” and to spare, the sort to
- which Mark Twain took a gun. I watched the grey mist creeping slowly down,
- down the beautiful mountains, and when it had enveloped them the night was
- come and it was time to go in and have dinner and go to bed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Perhaps it would not do to stay long in Saghalien. There is nothing to do.
- She lies a Sleeping Beauty waiting the kiss of the Prince. Will this war
- awaken her? The short time I was there I enjoyed every moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- The people seemed nondescript. The upper class were certainly Russians,
- and all the men wore military caps and had their hair clipped so close it
- looked shaven, but it would be utterly impossible to say to what
- nationality the peasant belonged. There were flaxen-haired Russians
- certainly, but then there were dark-bearded men, a Mongolian type, and
- there were many thrifty Chinese with queues, in belted blouses and high
- boots, generally keeping little eating-shops. There may have been
- Japanese, probably there were, seeing they hold the lower half of the
- island, but I did not notice them, and there is, I am afraid, in that
- place which is so full of possibilities absolutely nothing for that
- go-ahead nation to do.
- </p>
- <p>
- My pretty girls complained dreadfully. They looked after the shop and then
- there was nothing. In the winter they said they had skating and they liked
- the winter best, but the really bad time in places like Saghalien and
- Nikolayeusk were the two months when it was neither winter nor summer.
- Then their only means of communication with the outside world, the river
- and the sea, was too full of ice to admit of navigation and yet was not
- solid enough for dog-sled, so that if the telegraph broke down, and it
- very often did, they are entirely cut off from the world. Saghalien, of
- course, is worse off than the town, for on the mainland presumably there
- are roads of sorts that can be negotiated in case of necessity, but the
- island is entirely isolated. In the winter the mails take five days coming
- across the frozen sea from the mainland, and often when there are storms
- they take much longer. Fancy living on an island that stretches over
- nearly ten degrees of latitude, which for five months in the year gets its
- mails by dog-sled and for two goes without them altogether! On the whole,
- there may be drawbacks to living in Saghalien!
- </p>
- <p>
- I left it at nine o'clock in the evening, after the darkness had fallen,
- and the police officer and the pretty girls saw me on board the steamer
- which was to take me back to Nikolayeusk.
- </p>
- <p>
- They loaded me with flowers and they were full of regrets.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Madame, Madame, how lucky you are to get away from Saghalien!”
- </p>
- <p>
- But I said truly enough that I felt my luck lay in getting there. And now
- that I sit in my garden in Kent and watch the beans coming into blossom
- and the roses into bloom, look at the beds gay with red poppies and
- violas, cream and purple, or wander round and calculate the prospects of
- fruit on the cherry and the pear trees, I am still more glad to think that
- I know what manner of island that is that lies so far away in the Eastern
- world that it is almost West.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XII—FACING WEST
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>n the 25th July
- 1914, at nine o'clock in the evening, I left Saghalien, and as the ship
- steamed away from the loom of the land into the night I knew that at last,
- after eighteen months of voyaging in the East, I had turned my face
- homeward. I had enjoyed it, but I wanted to go home, and in my notebook I
- see evidences of this longing. At last I was counting the days—one
- day to Nikolayeusk, three days to Kharbarosvk, three days more to
- Blagoveschensk—and I was out in my calculations in the very
- beginning. The ships of the Volunteer fleet take their time, and we took
- three days wandering along the island of Saghalien and calling at ports I
- should think mail steamer had never before called at before we turned
- again towards the mainland.
- </p>
- <p>
- And yet in a way it was interesting, for I saw some of the inhabitants of
- the island, the aboriginal inhabitants, I should never have otherwise
- seen. Gilyaks they are, and the water seems their element. They have the
- long straight black hair of the Mongolian, and sometimes they were clad in
- furs—ragged and old and worn, the very last remains of furs—sometimes
- merely in dirty clothes, the cast-offs of far-away nations.
- </p>
- <p>
- They live by the fish. There is nothing else.
- </p>
- <p>
- I tried hard to photograph these aborigines, using all sorts of guile to
- get them into focus. I produced cigarettes, I offered sugar, but as soon
- as they found out what I was about they at once fled, even though their
- boat was fastened against the gangway and it meant abandoning somebody who
- was on board. I did eventually get some photographs, but they shared the
- fate of the rest of my Russian pictures, and I am sorry, for I do not
- suppose I shall ever again have the chance of photographing the Gilyak in
- his native haunts. He belongs to a dying race, they told me, and there are
- few children amongst them.
- </p>
- <p>
- And though we lay long at De Castries Bay they would not let me take
- pictures there at all. It was forbidden, so I was reduced to doing the
- best I could through my cabin port. In Alexandrosvk the police officer had
- aided and abetted my picture-making, but in Nikolayeusk it was a forbidden
- pastime, for the town, for purposes of photography, was a fort, and when I
- boarded the <i>Kanovina</i> on the river, the post steamer bound for
- Blagoveschensk, I met with more difficulties.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was on board a Mrs Marie Skibitsky and her husband, the headmaster
- of the Nikolayeusk “Real” School, and she spoke very good English and was
- a kind friend to me. Through her came a message from the captain to the
- effect that though he did not mind my photographing himself, it was
- forbidden in Russia, and he begged me not to do it when anyone was looking
- on. That made it pretty hopeless, for the ship was crowded and there was
- always not one person but probably a score of people taking a very great
- interest. The captain was not brass-bound as he had been in the <i>John
- Cockerill</i>, but he and all his officers were clad in khaki, with
- military caps, and it was sometime before I realised them as the ship's
- officers. The captain looked to me like a depressed corporal who was
- having difficulties with his sergeant, and the ship, though they charged
- us three roubles more for the trip to Blagoveschensk than the Amur Company
- would have done, was dirty and ill-kept. It was in her I met the saloon
- the windows of which would not open, and the water in my cabin had gone
- wrong, and when I insisted that I could not be happy till I had some, it
- was brought me in a teapot! They never struck the hours on this steamer as
- they had done on the <i>John Cockerill</i>, and gone was the excellent
- cook, and the food consisted largely of meat, of which I am bound to say
- there was any quantity.
- </p>
- <p>
- But in spite of all drawbacks the ship was crowded; there were many
- officers and their wives on board, and there were many officers on board
- with women who were not their 'wives. These last were so demonstrative
- that I always took them for honeymoon couples till at last a Cossack
- officer whom I met farther on explained:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not 'wives. Oh no! It is always so! It is just the steamer!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Whether these little irregularities were to be set down to the discomforts
- of the steamer or to the seductive air of the river, I do not know.
- Perhaps I struck a particularly amorous company. I am bound to say no one
- but me appeared to be embarrassed. It seemed to be all in the day's work.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was pleasant going up the river again and having beside me one who
- could explain things to me. Every day it grew warmer, for not only was the
- short northern summer reaching its zenith, but we were now going south
- again. And Mrs Skibitsky sat beside me and rubbed up her English and told
- me how in two years' time she proposed to bring her daughters to England
- to give them an English education, and I promised to look out for her and
- show her the ropes and how she could best manage in London. In two years'
- time! And we neither of us knew that we were on the threshold of the
- greatest war in the world's history.
- </p>
- <p>
- I took the breaking out of that war so calmly.
- </p>
- <p>
- We arrived at Kharbarosvk. I parted from Mrs Skibitsky, who was going to
- Vladivostok, and next day I looked up my friend the colonel's wife with
- whom I had travelled on the <i>John Cockerill</i>. She received me with
- open arms, but the household cat flew and spat and stated in no measured
- terms what she thought of Buchanan. The lady caught the cat before I
- realised what was happening and in a moment she had scored with her talons
- great red lines that spouted blood on her mistress's arms. She looked at
- them calmly, went into the kitchen, rubbed butter on her wounds and came
- back smiling as if nothing in the world had happened. But it was not
- nothing. I admired her extremely for a very brave woman. Presently her
- husband came in and she just drew down her sleeves to cover her torn arms
- and said not a word to him. He was talking earnestly and presently she
- said to me:
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is war!”
- </p>
- <p>
- I thought she meant between Buehanan and the cat and I smiled feebly,
- because I was very much ashamed of the trouble I and my dog had caused,
- but she said again:
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is war! Between Austria and Serbia!”
- </p>
- <p>
- It did not seem to concern me. I don't know that I had ever realised
- Serbia as a distinct nationality at all before, and she knew so little
- English and I knew no Russian at all, so that we were not able to discuss
- the matter much, though it was evident that the colonel was very much
- excited. That, I thought, might be natural. He was a soldier. War was his
- business, though here, I think, he was engaged in training boys.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the midday meal—<i>déjeuner</i>, I think we called it—she
- and I went for a walk, and presently down the wide streets of Kharbarosvk
- came a little procession of four led by a wooden-legged man bearing a
- Russian naval flag, the blue St Andrew's Cross on a white ground. I looked
- at them.
- </p>
- <p>
- They meant nothing to me in that great, empty street where the new little
- trees were just beginning to take root and the new red-brick post office
- dominated all minor buildings among many empty spaces.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They want war! They ask for war!” said my friend. I was witnessing my
- first demonstration against Germany! And I thought no more of it than I do
- of the children playing in the streets of this Kentish village!
- </p>
- <p>
- She saw me on to the steamer and bade me farewell, and then my troubles
- began. Not a single person on that steamer spoke English. However, I had
- always found the Russians so kind that the faet that we could not
- understand one another when the going was straight did not seem to matter
- very much. But I had not reckoned with the Russians at war.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Kharbarosvk the river forms the Chinese-Russian boundary and a little
- beyond it reaches its most southern point, about lat. 48°. But the China
- that was on our left was not the China that I knew. This was Manchuria,
- green and fresh as Siberia itself, and though there was little or no
- agriculture beyond perhaps a patch of vegetables here and there, on both
- sides of the broad river was a lovely land of hills and lush grass and
- trees. Here were firs and pines and cedars, whose sombreness contrasted
- with the limes and elms, the poplars and dainty birches with whieh they
- were interspersed. The Russian towns were small, the merest villages, with
- here and there a church with the painted ball-like domes they affect, and
- though the houses were of unpainted logs, always the windows and doors
- were painted white.
- </p>
- <p>
- And at every little town were great piles of wood waiting for the steamer,
- and whenever we stopped men hastily set to work bringing in loads of wood
- to replace that which we had burnt. And we burnt lavishly. Even the
- magnificent forests of Siberia will not stand this drain on them long.
- </p>
- <p>
- The other day when the National Service papers came round one was sent to
- a dear old “Sister” who for nearly all her life has been working for the
- Church in an outlying district of London. She is past work now, but she
- can still go and talk to the old and sick and perhaps give advice about
- the babies, but that is about the extent of her powers. She looked at the
- paper and as in duty bound filled it in, giving her age as seventy. What
- was her surprise then to receive promptly from the Department a suggestion
- that she should volunteer for service on the land, and offering her, by
- way of inducement, good wages, a becoming hat and high boots! That branch
- of the Department has evidently become rather mechanical. Now the Russians
- all the way from Saghalien to Petrograd treated me with sueh unfailing
- kindness that I was in danger of writing of them in the stereotyped
- fashion in which the National Service Department sent out its papers.
- Luckily they themselves saved me from such an error. There were three
- memorable, never-to-be-forgotten days when the Russians did not treat me
- with kindness.
- </p>
- <p>
- The warmest and pleasantest days of my trip on the Amur we went through
- lovely scenery: the river was very wide, the blue sky was reflected in its
- blue waters and the green, tree-clad hills on either side opened out and
- showed beyond mountains in the distance, purple and blue and alluring. It
- was the height of summer-time, summer at its best, a green, moist summer.
- We hugged the Russian bank, and the Manchurian bank seemed very far away,
- only it was possible to see that wherever the Russians had planted a
- little town on the other side was a Chinese town much bigger. The Russian
- were very little towns, and all the inhabitants, it seemed, turned out to
- meet us, who were their only link with the outside world.
- </p>
- <p>
- The minute the steamer came close enough ropes were flung ashore to moor
- it, and a gangway was run out very often—and it was an anxious
- moment for me with Buchanan standing on the end, for he was always the
- first to put dainty little paws on the gangway, and there he stood while
- it swayed this way and that before it could make up its mind where to
- finally settle down. Then there was a rush, and a stream of people going
- ashore for exercise passed a stream of people coming on board to sell
- goods. Always these took the form of eatables. Butter, bread, meat, milk,
- berries they had for sale, and the third and fourth class passengers
- bought eagerly.
- </p>
- <p>
- I followed Buchanan ashore, but I seldom bought anything unless the
- berries tempted me. There were strawberries, raspberries and a blue berry
- which sometimes was very sweet and pleasant.
- </p>
- <p>
- At first the people had been very kind and taken a great deal of interest
- in the stranger and her pretty little dog, but after we left Kharbarosvk
- and I had no one to appeal to a marked change came over things. If I
- wanted to take a photograph, merely a photograph of the steamer lying
- against the bank, my camera was rudely snatched away and I was given to
- understand in a manner that did not require me to know Russian that if I
- did that again it would be worse for me. Poor little Buchanan was kicked
- and chunks of wood were flung at him. As I passed along the lower decks to
- and from the steamer I was rudely hustled, and on shore not only did the
- people crowd around me in a hostile manner, but to my disgust they spat
- upon me.
- </p>
- <p>
- I could not understand the change, for even in the first-class saloon the
- people looked at me askance. And I had ten days of the river before I
- reached Stretensk, where I was to join the train. It is terrible to be
- alone among hostile people, and I kept Buchanan close beside me for
- company and because I did not know what might happen to him. If this had
- been China I should not have been surprised, but Russia, that had always
- been so friendly. I was mightily troubled.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then came the explanation, the very simple explanation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just as the river narrowed between the hills and looked more like a river,
- and turned north, there came on board at a tiny wayside town a tall young
- Cossack officer, a <i>soinik</i> of Cossacks, he called himself. He wore a
- khaki jacket and cap, and dark blue breeches and riding-boots. He had a
- great scar across his forehead, caused by a Chinese sword, and he had
- pleasant blue eyes and a row of nice white teeth. He was tall and goodly
- to look upon, and as I sat at afternoon tea at a little table on deck he
- came swaggering along the deck and stood before me with one hand on a
- deck-chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, is it permitted?” he asked in French.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course Madame permitted and ealled for another glass and offered him
- some of her tea and cake. Possibly he had plenty of his own, but no
- matter, it was good to entertain someone in friendly fashion again after
- being an outcast for three days. And it took a little while to find out
- what was wrong, he was so very polite.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame understands we are at war?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Madame opened her eyes in astonishment. What could a war in the Balkan
- Provinces have to do with her treatment on the Amur river thousands of
- miles in the East?
- </p>
- <p>
- However, she said she did.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Madame knows———” He paused, and then very kindly
- abandoned his people. “Madame sees the people are bad?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Madame quite agreed. They were bad. I had quite an appetite for my tea now
- that this nice young man was sympathising with me on the abominable
- behaviour of his countrymen.
- </p>
- <p>
- He spread out his hands as if deprecating the opinion of sueh foolish
- people. “They think—on the ship—and on the shore—that
- Madame is a GERMAN!”
- </p>
- <p>
- So it was out, and it took me a moment to realise it, so little had I
- realised the war.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A German!” I did not put it in capital letters as he had done. I had not
- yet learned to hate the Germans.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A—spy!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, good gracious!” And then I flew for my passports.
- </p>
- <p>
- In vain that young man protested it was not necessary. He had felt sure
- from the moment he set eyes upon her that Madame was no German. He had
- told the captain—so the depressed corporal had been taking an
- interest in me—she might be French, or even from the north of Spain,
- but certainly not German. But I insisted on his looking at my passports
- and being in a position to swear that I was British, and from that moment
- we were friends and he constituted himself my champion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The people are bad,” he told me. “Madame, they are angry and they are
- bad. They may harm you. Here I go ashore with you; at Blagoveschensk you
- get a protection order from the Governor written in Russian so that
- somebody may read.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then he told me about the war. Russia and France were fighting Germany. He
- had come from Tsitsihar, on the Mongolian border, across Manchuria, and
- before that he had come from Kodbo, right in the heart of the great
- Western Mongolian mountains, and he was going as fast as he could to
- Chita, and thence he supposed to the front.
- </p>
- <p>
- “C'est gai a la guerre, Madame, c'est gai!” I hope so. I earnestly hope he
- found it so, for he was a good fellow and awfully good to me.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was a little disquieting too, for now it dawned upon me it would be
- impossible to go back through Germany with Germany at war with Russia, and
- my friend was equally sure it would be almost impossible to go by way of
- St Petersburg, as we called Petrograd then. Anyhow we were still in the
- Amur Province, in Eastern Siberia, so I did not worry much. Now that the
- people were friendly once more it all seemed so far away, and whenever we
- went ashore my Cossack friend explained matters.
- </p>
- <p>
- But he was a little troubled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, why does not England come in?” he asked again and again, and I,
- who had seen no papers since I left Tientsin, and only <i>The North China
- Herald</i> then, could not imagine what England had to do with it. The
- idea of a world war was out of the question.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was more interesting now going up the beautiful river, narrowed till it
- really did look like a river. I could see both banks quite plainly. My
- friend had been stationed here a year or two before, and he told me that
- there were many tigers in the woods, and wild boar and bear, but not very
- many wolves. And the tigers were beautiful and fierce and dangerous,
- northern tigers that could stand the rigours of the winter, and they did
- not wait to be attacked, they attacked you. There was a German professor
- in Blagoveschensk a year or two ago who had gone out butterfly-hunting,
- which one would think was a harmless and safe enough pastime to satisfy
- even a conscientious objector, and a tiger had got on his tracks and eaten
- him incontinently. They found only his butterfly net and the buttons of
- his coat when they went in search of him.
- </p>
- <p>
- The plague had broken out during this officer's stay on the river, and the
- authorities had drawn a cordon of Cossacks round to keep the terrified,
- plague-stricken people from fleeing and spreading the disease yet farther,
- and he pointed out to me the house in which he and two comrades had lived.
- It was merely a roof pitched at a steep angle, and the low walls were
- embedded in earth; only on the side facing the river was a little window—it
- did not open—and a door. A comfortless-looking place it was.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why the earth piled up against the sides?” I asked. It was sprouting
- grass now and yellow buttercups and looked gay and pretty, the only
- attractive thing about the place.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, for the cold,” said he, “for the cold.” And remembering what they
- had told me about the cold of Kharbin, what I myself had experienced at
- Manchuria on the way out in much the same latitude as this, I could quite
- well believe that even sunk in the earth this poor little hut was not a
- very good protection against the cold.
- </p>
- <p>
- The river widened again, winding its way across a plateau. On the Chinese
- side were great oak forests where my Cossack told me were many pig that
- gave them good hunting and many bees, but this was not China as I knew it.
- It was inhabited, he said, by nomad tribes who were great horsemen, and we
- saw occasional villages and—a rare sight—cattle, red and
- white, standing knee-deep in the clear water. Particularly was I struck by
- the cattle, for in all those thousands of miles of travel I could count on
- my fingers—the fingers of one hand would be too many—the
- numbers of times I saw herds of cattle. Once was in Saghalien, and twice,
- I think, here, curiously enough, for the pure Chinese does not use milk or
- butter on the Chinese side of the river. Of course there must have been
- cows somewhere, for there was plenty of milk, cream and butter for sale,
- but they were not in evidence from the river.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the Russian side the landing-places did not change much, only now among
- the women hawkers were Chinese in belted blouses, green, yellow, blue,
- pink, red; they rioted in colour as they never did in their own land, and
- they all wore sea-boots.
- </p>
- <p>
- And still over twelve hundred miles from the sea it was a great river. And
- then at last I saw what I had been looking for ever since I embarked—fields
- of corn, corn ripe for the harvest. This was all this lovely land needed,
- a field of corn; but again it was not on the Russian side, but on the
- Chinese.
- </p>
- <p>
- The spires and domes of Blagoveschensk, the capital of the Amur Province,
- came into view. All along the Russian bank of the river lay this city of
- Eastern Siberia. Its buildings stood out against the clear sky behind it,
- and approaching it was like coming up to a great port. The river, I should
- think, was at least a mile wide. I am not very good at judging distances,
- but it gave me the impression of a very wide river set here in the midst
- of a plain—that is, of course, a plateau, for we had come through
- the hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- And here my Cossack friend came to bid me good-bye and to impress upon me
- once again to go straight to the Governor for that protection order. He
- was sorry he could not see me through, but his orders were to go to Chita
- as fast as he could, and someone would speak English at Blagoveschensk,
- for it was a great city, and then he asked for the last time:
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, Madame, why does not England come in?”
- </p>
- <p>
- And then the question that had troubled me so was answered, for as we
- touched the shore men came on board wild with excitement, shouting,
- yelling, telling the war news, that very day, that very moment, it seemed,
- England had come in!
- </p>
- <p>
- And I appeared to be the only representative of Britain in that corner of
- the world! Never was there such a popular person. The sailor-men who
- worked the ship, the poorer third and fourth class passengers all came
- crowding to look at the Englishwoman. I had only got to say “Anglisky” to
- have everyone bowing down before me and kissing my hand, and my Cossack
- friend as he bade me good-bye seemed to think it hardly necessary to go to
- the Governor except that a member of a great Allied nation ought to be
- properly received.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I had been bitten once, and I determined to make things as safe as I
- could for the future. So I got a droshky—a sort of tumble-down
- victoria, held together with pieces of string, and driven by a man who
- might have been Russian or might have been Chinese—and Buchanan and
- I went through the dusty, sunny streets of the capital of the Amur
- Province to the viceregal residence.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIII—THE UPPER REACHES OF THE AMUR
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>lagoveschensk is
- built on much the same lines as all the other Siberian towns that I have
- seen, a wooden town mostly of one-storeyed houses straggling over the
- plain in wide streets that cut one another at right angles. Again it was
- not at all unlike an Australian town, a frontier town to all intents and
- purposes. The side-roads were deep in dust, and the principal shop, a
- great store, a sort of mild imitation of Harrod's, where you could buy
- everything from a needle to an anchor—I bought a dog-collar with a
- bell for Buchanan—was run by Germans. It was a specimen of Germany's
- success in peaceful penetration. It seemed as if she were throwing away
- the meat for the shadow, for they were interning all those assistants—400
- of them. Now probably they form the nucleus of the Bolshevist force
- helping Germany.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Governor's house was on the outskirts of the town, and it was thronged
- with people, men mostly, and Buchanan and I were passed from one room to
- another, evidently by people who had not the faintest notion of what we
- wanted. Everybody said “Bonjour,” and the Governor and everybody else
- kissed my hand. I said I was “Anglisky,” and it seemed as if everybody in
- consequence came to look at me. But it didn't advance matters at all.
- </p>
- <p>
- I began to be hungry and tired, and various people tried questions upon
- me, but nothing definite happened. At last, after about two hours, when I
- was seriously thinking of giving up in despair, a tall, good-looking
- officer in khaki came in. He put his heels together and kissed my hand as
- courteously as the rest had done, and then informed me in excellent
- English that he was the Boundary Commissioner and they had sent for him
- because there was an Englishwoman arrived, and, while very desirous of
- being civil to the representative of their new Ally, nobody could make out
- what on earth she was doing here and what she wanted!
- </p>
- <p>
- I told my story and it was easy enough then. He admired Buchanan properly,
- drove us both to his house, introduced me to his wife and made me out a
- most gorgeous protection order written in Russian. I have it still, but I
- never had occasion to use it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Opposite Blagoveschensk is a Chinese town which is called Sakalin, though
- the maps never give it that name, and in Vladivostok and Peking they call
- it various other names. But its right name is Sakalin, I know, for I
- stayed there for the best part of a week.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Sakalin the head of the Chinese Customs is a Dane, Paul Barentzen, and
- to him and his wife am I greatly beholden. I had been given letters to
- them, and I asked my friend the kindly Russian Boundary Commissioner if he
- knew them. He did. He explained to me I must have a permit to cross the
- river and he would give me one for a week. A week seemed overlong, but he
- explained the Russian Government did not allow free traffic across the
- river and it was just as well to have a permit that would cover the whole
- of my stay. Even now, though I did stay my week, I have not fathomed the
- reason of these elaborate precautions, because it must be impossible to
- guard every little landing-place on the long, long, lonely river—there
- must be hundreds of places where it is easy enough to cross—only I
- suppose every stranger is liable sooner or later to be called upon to give
- an account of himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- The ferries that crossed the Amur to the Chinese side were great boats
- built to carry a large number of passengers, but the arrangements for
- getting across the river did justice to both Chinese and Russian
- mismanagement. Unlike the efficient Japanese, both these nations, it seems
- to me, arrive at the end in view with the minimum amount of trouble to
- those in authority—that is to say, the maximum of trouble to
- everybody concerned. The ferry-boats owing to local politics had a
- monopoly, and therefore went at their own sweet will just exactly when
- they pleased. There was a large and busy traffic, but the boats never went
- oftener than once an hour, and the approaches were just as primitive as
- they possibly could be. There was one little shed with a seat running
- round where if you were fortunate you could sit down with the Chinese
- hawkers and wait for the arrival of the boat. And when it did come the
- passengers, after a long, long wait, came climbing up the rough path up
- the bank looking as if they had been searched to the skin. They let me
- through on the Chinese side and I found without any difficulty my way to
- Mr Paul Barentzen's house, a two-storeyed, comfortable house, and received
- a warm invitation from him and his wife to stay with them.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a chance not to be missed. I was getting very weary, I was tired in
- every bone, so a chance like this to stay with kindly people who spoke my
- own language, on the very outskirts of the Chinese Empire, was not to be
- lightly missed, and I accepted with gratitude, a gratitude I feel
- strongly. Mr Barentzen was a Dane, but he spoke as good English as I do,
- and if possible was more British. His wife was English. And that night he
- celebrated the coming into the war of Britain. He asked me and the Russian
- Boundary Commissioner and his wife and another Russian gentleman all to
- dinner in the gardens at Blagoveschensk.
- </p>
- <p>
- The place was a blaze of light, there were flags and lamps and bands
- everywhere, the whole city was <i>en fête</i> to do honour to the new
- addition to the Grande Entente. When we were tired of walking about the
- gardens we went inside to the principal restaurant that was packed with
- people dining, while on a stage various singers discoursed sweet music and
- waved the flags of the Allies. But the British flag had not got as far as
- the capital of the Amur Province. Indeed much farther west than that I
- found it represented by a red flag with black crosses drawn on it, very
- much at the taste of the artist, and “Anglisky” written boldly across it
- to make up for any deficiency.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr Barentzen had foreseen this difficulty and had provided us all with
- nice little silk specimens of the Union Jack to wear pinned on our
- breasts. About ten o'clock we sat down to a most excellent dinner, with
- sturgeon and sour cream and caviare and all the good tilings that Eastern
- Siberia produces. A packed room also dined, while the people on the stage
- sang patriotic songs, and we were all given silk programmes as souvenirs.
- They sang the Belgian, the French and the Russian national anthems, and at
- last we asked for the British.
- </p>
- <p>
- Very courteously the conductor sent back word to say he was very sorry but
- the British national anthem was also a German hymn and if he dared play it
- the people would tear him to pieces. Remembering my tribulations a little
- way down the river, I quite believed him, so I suggested as an alternative
- <i>Rule, Britannia</i>, but alas! he had never heard of it. It was a
- deadlock, and we looked at one another.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then the tall Russian who was the other guest pushed his chair from the
- table, stood up, and saluting, whistled <i>Rule, Britannia!</i> How the
- people applauded! And so Britain entered the war in Far Eastern Siberia.
- </p>
- <p>
- We certainly did not go home till morning that day. For that matter, I
- don't think you are supposed to cross the river at night, not ordinary
- folk, Customs officials may have special privileges. At any rate I came
- back to my bunk on the steamer and an anxious little dog just as the day
- was breaking, and next day I crossed to Sakalin and stayed with the
- Barentzens.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Russians then took so much trouble to keep the Chinese on their own
- side of the river that the Russian officers and civil servants, much to
- the chagrin of their wives, were nowhere in the province allowed to have
- Chinese servants. The fee for a passport had been raised to, I think,
- twelve roubles, so it was no longer worth a Chinaman's while to get one to
- hawk a basket of vegetables, and the mines on the Zeya, a tributary of the
- Amur on the Russian side, had fallen off in their yield because cheap
- labour was no longer possible. The people who did get passports were the
- Chinese prostitutes, though a Chinese woman has not a separate identity in
- China and is not allowed a passport of her own. However, there are ways of
- getting over that. A man applied for a passport and it was granted him. He
- handed it over to the woman for a consideration, and on the other side any
- Chinese document was, as a rule, all one to the Russian official.
- Remembering my own experience and how I had difficulty in deciding between
- my passport and my agreement with my muleteers, I could quite believe this
- story.
- </p>
- <p>
- Blagoveschensk is a regular frontier town and, according to Mr Barentzen,
- is unsafe. On the first occasion that I crossed the river with him I
- produced a hundred-rouble note. Almost before I had laid it down it was
- snatched up by the Chinese Commissioner of Customs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you mad?” said he, and he crumpled up the note in his hand and held
- out for my acceptance a rouble. I tried to explain that not having change,
- and finding it a little awkward, I thought that this would be a good
- opportunity to get it, as I felt sure the man at receipt of custom must
- have plenty.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dare say,” said my host sarcastically. “I don't want to take away
- anybody's character, but I'll venture to say there are at least ten men
- within hail”—there was a crowd round—“who would joyfully cut
- your throat for ten roubles.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He enlarged upon that theme later. We used to sit out on the balcony of
- his house looking out, not over the river, but over the town of Sakalin,
- and there used to come in the men from the B.A.T. Factory, a Russian in
- top-boots who spoke excellent English and a young American named Hyde.
- They told me tales, well, something like the stories I used to listen to
- in my childhood's days when we talked about “the breaking out of the gold”
- in Australia, tales of men who had washed much gold and then were lured
- away and murdered for their riches. Certainly they did not consider
- Blagoveschensk or Sakalin towns in which a woman could safely wander. In
- fact all the Siberian towns that they knew came under the ban.
- </p>
- <p>
- But of course mostly we talked about the war and how maddening it was only
- to get scraps of news through the telegraph. The young American was keen,
- I remember. I wonder if he really had patience to wait till his country
- came in. He talked then in the first week of the war of making his way
- back to Canada and seeing if he could enlist there, for even then we felt
- sure that the Outer Dominions would want to help the Motherland. And the
- Germans were round Liège—would they take it? Association is a
- curious thing. Whenever I hear of Liège I cannot help thinking, not of the
- Belgian city, but of a comfortable seat on a balcony with the shadows
- falling and the lights coming out one by one on the bath-houses that are
- dotted about a little town on the very outskirts of the Chinese Empire—the
- lights of the town. There are the sounds and the smells of the Chinese
- town mingling with the voices of the talkers and the fragrance of the
- coffee, and the air is close with the warmth of August. There comes back
- to me the remembrance of the keen young American who wanted to fight
- Germany and the young Russian in top-boots who was very much afraid he
- would only be used to guard German prisoners.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sakalin was cosmopolitan, but it had a leaning toward Russia, hence the
- bath-houses, an idea foreign to Chinese civilisation; and when I got a
- piece of grit in my eye which refused to come out it was to a Japanese
- doctor I went, accompanied by my host's Chinese servant, who, having had
- the trouble stated by me in English, explained it to another man in
- Chinese, who in his turn told the doctor what was the matter in Russian.
- Luckily that man of medicine was very deft and I expect he could have
- managed very well without any explanation at all. I have the greatest
- respect for the Japanese leech I visited in Sakalin.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the Sunday we had a big picnic. The Russian Boundary Commissioner came
- across with his wife and little girls, Mrs Barentzen took her little girl
- and the Chinese Tao Tai lent us the light of his countenance. He was the
- feature of the entertainment, for he was a very big man, both literally
- and socially, and could not move without a large following, so that an
- escort of mounted police took charge of us. The proper portly Chinaman of
- whom this retinue was in honour spoke no English, but smiled at me
- benevolently, and wore a petticoat and a Russian military cap! The picnic
- was by a little brook about seven miles from the town and I shall always
- remember it because of the lush grass, waist-high, and the lovely flowers.
- I had looked at the Siberian flowers from the steamer when they were
- ungetatable, I had gathered them with joy in Saghalien, and now here they
- were again just to my hand. In June they told me there were abundant
- lilies of the valley, and I regretted I had not been there in June. Truly
- I feel it would be a delight to see lilies of the valley growing wild, but
- as it was, the flowers were beautiful enough, and there were heaps of
- them. There were very fine Canterbury bells, a glorious violet flower and
- magnificent white poppies. Never have I gathered more lovely flowers,
- never before have I seen them growing wild in such amazing abundance. No
- one is more truly artistic than the average Chinese, and I think the Tao
- Tai must have enjoyed himself, though it is against the canons of good
- taste in China to look about you.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently I was asking the chief magistrate's good offices for Buchanan,
- for he, my treasured Buchanan, was lost. In the Barentzens' house there
- was, of course, as in all well-regulated Chinese houses run by foreigners,
- a bathroom attached to every bedroom, and when I wanted a bath the
- servants filled with warm water the half of a large barrel, which made a
- very excellent bath-tub. And having bathed myself, I bathed Buchanan,
- whose white coat got very dirty in the dusty Chinese streets. He ran away
- downstairs and I lingered for a moment to put on my dress, and when I came
- down he was gone. High and low I hunted; I went up and down the street
- calling his name, and I knew he would have answered, he always did, had he
- been within hearing. All the Customs men were turned out and I went to the
- Chinese Tao Tai, who promptly put on all the police. But Buchanan was gone
- for a night and I was in despair. Mr Barentzen's head boy shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Master saying,” said he, “mus' get back that dog.” So I realised I was
- making a fuss, but for the moment I did not care. The Tao Tai gave it as
- his opinion that he had not been stolen. There were many little dogs like
- him in the town, said he, no one would steal one, which only shows a
- Chinese magistrate may not be infallible, for I was sure Buchanan would
- not stay away from me of his own free will.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then at last the servants turned up triumphant, Buchanan, in the arms
- of the head boy, wild with delight at seeing his mistress again. The
- police had searched everywhere, but the servants, with their master's
- injunction in mind and my reward to be earned, had made further inquiries
- and found that a little boy had been seen taking the dog into a certain
- house occupied by an official, the man who was responsible for the
- cleaning of the streets. This was the first intimation I ever had that the
- Chinese did clean their streets: I had thought that they left that job to
- the “wonks” and the scavenger crows. The police made inquiries. No, there
- was no little dog there. But the servants—wise Chinese servants—made
- friends with the people round, and they said: “Watch. There is a dog.” So
- a junior servant was put to watch, and when the gate of the compound was
- opened he stole in, and there was poor little James Buchanan tied up to a
- post. That servant seized the dog and fled home in triumph.
- </p>
- <p>
- The T'ai T'ai (the official's wife), said the people round, had wanted the
- pretty little dog.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was so delighted to get my little friend back that I should have been
- content to leave things there. Not so Mr Barentzen. He sent for that
- official, and there in his drawing-room he and I interviewed a portly
- Chinese gentleman in grey petticoats, a long pigtail, a little black silk
- cap and the tips of the silver shields that encased the long nails of his
- little fingers just showing beyond his voluminous sleeves.
- </p>
- <p>
- “An officious servant,” he said. He was extremely sorry the Commissioner
- of Customs and his friend had been put to so much inconvenience. The
- servant had already been dismissed. And so we bowed him out, face was
- saved, and all parties were satisfied. It was very Chinese. And yet we
- knew, and we knew that he must have known we knew, that it was really his
- wife who received the little dog that everyone concerned must have
- realised was valuable and must have been stolen.
- </p>
- <p>
- Here in Sakai in I heard about the doings of the only wolves that came
- into my wanderings. In the little river harbour were many small steamers
- flying the Russian flag and loading great barrels with the ends painted
- bright red. These barrels, explained the Customs Commissioner, contained
- spirits which the Russians were desirous of smuggling into Russian
- territory. The Chinese had not the least objection to their leaving China
- after they had paid export duty. They were taken up and down the river and
- finally landed at some small port whence they were smuggled across. The
- trade was a very big one. The men engaged in it were known as the wolves
- of the Amur and were usually Caucasians and Jews. In 1913, the last year
- of which I have statistics, no less than twenty-five thousand pounds
- export was paid on these spirits, and in the years before it used to be
- greater. I wonder whether with the relaxing of discipline consequent on
- the war and the revolution the receipts for the export have not gone up.
- </p>
- <p>
- The wide river was beautiful here, and Blagovesehensk, lying across the
- water, with its spires and domes, all the outlines softened, standing
- against the evening sky, might have been some town of pictured Italy. I am
- glad I have seen it. I dare not expiate on Mr Barentzen's kindness. My
- drastic critic, drastic and so invaluable, says that I have already
- overloaded this book with tales of people's kindness, so I can only say I
- stayed there a week and then took passage on the smaller steamer which was
- bound up the Amur and the Shilka to Stretensk and the railway.
- </p>
- <p>
- I had, however, one regret. I had inadvertently taken my plates and films
- on which I had all my pictures of the Amur and Saghalien across the
- Sakalin and I could not take them back again. The Russian rule was very
- strict. No photographs were allowed. Everything crossing the river must be
- examined. Now to examine my undeveloped films and plates would be to ruin
- them. I interviewed a Japanese photographer on the Sakalin side, but he
- appeared to be a very tyro in the art of developing, and finally very
- reluctantly I decided to leave them for Mr Barentzen to send home when he
- got the chance. He did not get that chance till the middle of 1916, and I
- regret to state that when we came to develop them every single one of them
- was ruined.
- </p>
- <p>
- The steamer that I embarked on now was considerably smaller, for the river
- was narrowing. The deck that ran round the cabins was only thirty inches
- wide and crowded with children; worse, when James Buchanan and I went for
- our daily promenades we found the way disputed by women, mothers, or
- nursemaids, I know not whieh, propelling the children who could not walk
- in wheeled chairs, and they thought Buchanan had been brought there for
- their special benefit, a view which the gentleman himself did not share.
- However, he was my only means of communication with them, for they had no
- English or French.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I was lucky, for one of the mates, brass-bound and in spotless white,
- like so many Russians had served in British ships and spoke English very
- well with a slight Scots accent. With him I used to hold daily
- conversations and always we discussed the war. But he shook his head over
- it. It was not possible to get much news at the little wayside places at
- which we stopped. There were no papers—the Russian peasant under the
- beneficent rule of the Tsar was not encouraged to learn to read—and
- for his part he, the mate, put no faith in the telegrams. All would be
- well, of course, but we must wait till we came to some large and
- influential place for news upon which we could rely.
- </p>
- <p>
- But that large and influential place was long in coming, in fact I may say
- it never materialised while I was on the river. There are at least eleven
- towns marked on the way between Blagoveschensk and Stretensk, but even the
- town at the junction where the Aigun and the Shilka merge into the Amur is
- but a tiny frontier village, and the rest as I know the river banks are
- only a few log huts inhabited by peasants who apparently keep guard over
- and supply the stacks of wood needed by the steamers.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a lovely river now going north, north and then west, or rather we
- went north, the river flowed the other way, it was narrower and wound
- between wooded hills and it was very lonely. There were occasional, very
- occasional, little settlements, on the Chinese side I do not remember even
- a hut, though it was a lovely green land and the river, clear as crystal,
- reflected on its breast the trees and rocks among which we made our way.
- </p>
- <p>
- Once on the Russian side we landed from a boat a woman with two little
- children and innumerable bundles. They had been down, I suppose, to visit
- the centre of civilisation at Blagoveschensk and now were coming home. In
- the dusk of the evening we left her there looking down thoughtfully at her
- encumbrances, not a living creature in sight, not a sign of man's
- handiwork anywhere. I hoped there were no tigers about, but she has always
- lived in my memory as an unfinished story. I suppose we all of us have
- those unfinished stories in our lives, not stories left unfinished because
- they are so long drawn out we could not possibly wait for developments,
- but stories that must finish suddenly, only we are withdrawn. Once I
- looked from a railway carriage window in the Midlands and I saw a bull
- chasing a woman; she was running, screaming for all she was worth, for a
- fence, but whether she reached it or not I have no means of knowing.
- Another time I saw also from a railway carriage window two men, mother
- naked, chasing each other across the greensward and left them there
- because the train went on. Of course I have often enough seen men without
- clothes in the tropics, but in the heart of England they are out of the
- picture and want explaining. That explanation I shall never get. Nor is it
- likely I shall ever know whether that unknown woman and her little
- children ever reached their unknown home.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were luxuriously fed upon that little steamer. The Russian tea with
- lemon and the bread and butter were delicious, and we had plenty of cream,
- though gone was the red caviare that farther east had been so common. But
- I was tired and at last feeling lonely. I began to count the days till I
- should reach home.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the Amur the weather had been gorgeous, but when we entered the Shilka
- we were north of 53° again and well into the mountains, and the next
- morning I awoke to a grey day. It rained and it rained, not tropical rain,
- but soft, penetrating rain; the fir-clad hills on either side were veiled
- in a silvery mist. The river wound so that as we looked ahead we seemed to
- be sailing straight into the hills. The way looked blocked with hills,
- sometimes all mist-covered, sometimes with the green showing alluringly
- through the mist, and occasionally, when the mist lifted and the sun came
- out, in all the gullies would linger little grey cloudlets, as if caught
- before they could get away and waiting there screened by the hills till
- the mist should fall again. Occasionally there were lonely houses, still
- more occasionally little settlements of log huts with painted windows
- hermetically sealed, and once or twice a field of corn ripe for the
- harvest but drowned by the persistent rain. But the air was soft and
- delicious, divine; only in the cabins on board the crowded steamer was it
- pestilential. The mate told me how, six weeks before, on his last trip up,
- an Englishman had come selling reapers and binders, and he thought that
- now I had made my appearance the English were rather crowding the Amur.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sometimes when we stopped the passengers went ashore and went berrying,
- returning with great branches laden with fruit, and I and Buchanan too
- walked a little way, keeping the steamer 'well in sight, and rejoicing in
- the flowers and the green and the rich, fresh smell of moist earth. I do
- not know that ever in my life do I remember enjoying rain so much. Of
- course in my youth in Australia I had always welcomed the life-giving
- rain, but thirteen years in England, where I yearned for the sunshine, had
- somehow dimmed those memories, and now once again the rain on the river
- brought me joy. The mist was a thing of beauty, and when a ray of sunshine
- found its way into a green, mist-veiled valley, illuminating its lovely
- loneliness, then indeed I knew that the earth was the Lord's and the
- fullness thereof.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sometimes we passed rafts upon the river. They were logs bound together in
- great parallelograms and worked with twelve long sweeps fixed at each end.
- Twelve men at least went to each raft, and there were small houses built
- of grass and canvas and wood. They were taking the wood down to
- Nikolayeusk to be shipped to Shanghai and other parts of the world for
- furniture, for these great forests of birch and elm and fir and oak must
- be a mine of wealth to their owners. I do not know whether the wood is cut
- on any system, and whether the presence of these great rafts had anything
- to do with the many dead trees I saw in the forests, their white stems
- standing up ghostlike against the green hill-side.
- </p>
- <p>
- I have no record of these lovely places. My camera was locked away now in
- my suit-case, for it was war, and Russia, rightly, would allow no
- photographs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Seven days after we left Blagoveschensk we reached Stretensk and I came in
- contact for the first time with the World's War.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIV—MOBILISING IN EASTERN SIBERIA
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t Stretensk I
- awakened to the fact that I was actually in Siberia, nay, that I had
- travelled over about two thousand miles of Siberia, that dark and gloomy
- land across which—I believed in my youth—tramped long lines of
- prisoners in chains, sometimes amidst the snow and ice of a bitter winter,
- sometimes with the fierce sun beating down upon them, but always hopeless,
- always hungry, weary, heartbroken, a sacrifice to the desire for political
- liberty that was implanted in the hearts of an enslaved people.
- </p>
- <p>
- It is an extraordinary thing that, though for many years I had believed
- Saghalien was a terrible island, a sort of inferno for political
- prisoners, something like Van Diemen's Land used to be in the old convict
- days one hundred and ten years ago, only that in the Asiatic island the
- conditions were still more cruel and it was hopeless to think of escaping,
- while I was actually in that beautiful island I was so taken up with its
- charm, it was so extremely unlike the place of which I had a picture in my
- mind's eye, that I hardly connected the two. All up the Amur river was a
- new land, a land crying out for pioneers, pastoralists and farmers, so
- that the thought that was uppermost in my mind was of the contrast between
- it and the old land of China, where I had spent so long a time; but at
- Stretensk I suddenly remembered this was Siberia, the very heart of
- Siberia, where men had suffered unutterable things, might still be so
- suffering for all I knew, and I stepped off the steamer and prepared to
- explore, with a feeling that at any moment I might come across the heavy
- logs that made up the walls of a prison, might see the armed sentries,
- clad to the eyes in furs, who tramped amidst the snow. But this was August
- and it was fiercely hot, so the snow and the sentries clad in furs were
- ruled out, and presently as Buchanan and I walked about the town even the
- lonely prison built of logs had to go too. There may have been a prison,
- probably there was, but it did not dominate the picture. Not here should I
- find the Siberia I had been familiar with from my youth up.
- </p>
- <p>
- Stretensk is like all other Siberian towns that I have seen. The houses
- are mostly of one storey and of wood, of logs; the streets are wide and
- straight, cutting each other at right angles, and the whole is flung out
- upon the plain; it is really, I think, rather high among the mountains,
- but you do not get the sensation of hills as you do from the steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- The rain had cleared away and it was very hot, though we had started out
- very early because I was determined to go west if possible that very
- afternoon; We went gingerly because the dangers of Siberian towns for one
- who looked fairly prosperous had been impressed upon me at Blagoveschensk,
- and I hesitated about going far from the steamer, where the mate could
- speak English. Still we went. I was not going to miss the Siberia of my
- dreams if I could help it.
- </p>
- <p>
- I saw something more wonderful than the Siberia of my dreams.
- </p>
- <p>
- In consequence of the ceaseless rain the roads between the log-houses with
- their painted windows were knee-deep in mud, a quagmire that looked
- impassable. In the air was the sound of martial music, and up and down in
- what would have been reckless fashion but for the restraining glue-like
- mud galloped officers and their orderlies. It was the war, the first I had
- seen of it. The war was taking the place of the political exiles, and
- instead of seeing Siberia as a background for the exiles as I had dreamed
- of it for so many years, I saw it busy with preparations for war. The
- roads were like sloughs out of which it would have been impossible to get
- had I ever ventured in. Naturally I did not venture, but took all sorts of
- long rounds to get to the places I wanted to reach. It is not a bad way of
- seeing a town.
- </p>
- <p>
- The heavily built houses, built to defy the Siberian winter, might have
- come out of Nikolayeusk or Kharbarosvk, and though the sun poured down out
- of a cloudless sky, and I was gasping in a thin Shantung silk, they were
- hermetically sealed, and the cotton wool between the double windows was
- decorated with the usual gay ribbons. I dare say they were cool enough
- inside, but they must have been intolerably stuffy. The sidewalks too had
- dried quickly in the fierce sunshine. They were the usual Siberian
- sidewalks, with long lines of planks like flooring. Had they ever been
- trodden, I wonder, by the forced emigrant looking with hopeless longing
- back to the West. Finally we wandered into the gardens, where I doubt not,
- judging by the little tables and many seats, there was the usual gay
- throng at night, but now early in the morning everything looked
- dishevelled, and I could not find anyone to supply me with the cool drink
- of which I stood so badly in need, and at last we made our way back to the
- steamer, where the mate, having got over the struggle of arrival—for
- this was the farthest the steamer went—kindly found time enough to
- give himself to my affairs. I wanted a droshky to take me to the train,
- and as nowhere about had I seen any signs of a railway station I wanted to
- know where it was.
- </p>
- <p>
- The mate laughed and pointed far away down the river on the other side. I
- really ought to have known my Siberia better by now. Railways are not
- constructed for the convenience of the townsfolk. There was nothing else
- for it. I had to get there somehow, and as the train left somewhere
- between five and six, about noon, with the mate's assistance, I engaged a
- droshky. The carriages that are doing a last stage in this country are not
- quite so elderly here as they are in Saghalien, but that is not saying
- much for them. The one the mate engaged for me had a sturdy little
- ungroomed horse in the shafts and another running in a trace alongside. On
- the seat was packed all my baggage, two small suit-cases and a large
- canvas sack into which I dumped rugs, cushions and all odds and ends,
- including my precious kettles, and the rough little unkempt horses towed
- us down through the sea of mud to the ferry, and then I saw the scene had
- indeed shifted. It was not long lines of exiles bearing chains I met, that
- was all in the past, at least for an outsider like me, but here in the
- heart of Asia Russia in her might was collecting her forces for a spring.
- The great flat ferry was crossing and recrossing, and down the swamp that
- courtesy called a road came endless streams of square khaki-coloured
- carts, driven by men in flat caps and belted khaki blouses, big fair men,
- often giants with red, sun-tanned faces and lint-white hair, men who
- shouted and laughed and sang and threw up their caps, who were sober as
- judges and yet were wild with excitement; they were going to the war. I
- could not understand one word they said, but there is no mistaking
- gladness, and these men were delighted with their lot. I wondered was it a
- case of the prisoner freed or was it that life under the old regime in a
- Russian village was dull to monotony and to these recruits was coming the
- chance of their lifetime.
- </p>
- <p>
- Some will never come east again, never whether in love or hate will they
- see the steppes and the flowers and the golden sunshine and the snow of
- Siberia, they have left their bones on those battle-fields; but some, I
- hope, will live to see the regeneration of Russia, when every man shall
- have a chance of freedom and happiness. I suppose this revolution was in
- the air as cart after cart drove on to the ferry and the men yelled and
- shouted in their excitement. A small company of men who were going east
- looked at them tolerantly—I'm sure it was tolerantly—and then
- they too caught the infection and yelled in chorus.
- </p>
- <p>
- I watched it all with interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then half-an-hour passed and still they came; an hour, and I grew a little
- worried, for they were still pouring over. Two hours—I comforted
- myself, the train did not start till late in the afternoon—three
- horns, and there was no cessation in the stream. And of course I could
- make no one understand. It looked as if I might wait here all night. At
- last a man who was manifestly an officer came galloping along and him I
- addressed in French.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it possible to cross on the ferry?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was very courteous.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is not possible to cross, Madame. It is not possible. The soldiers
- come first.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I took another look at the good-humoured, strapping, fair-haired soldiers
- in khaki, with their khaki-coloured carts. The ferry crossing was laden
- with them, hundreds of others were waiting, among them numbers of country
- people. They had bundles and laden baskets and looked people who had
- shopped and wanted to go home again. Were these exiles? I did not know.
- They looked simple peasants. Whoever they were, there did not seem much
- chance for them or me, and I said the one Russian word I knew, “steamer,”
- and indicated that I wanted to go back there. Much as I wanted to go home,
- tired as I was of travelling, I decided I would postpone my railway
- journey for a day and take advantage of that comfortable Russian custom
- that allows you to live on a steamer for two days while she is in port.
- The <i>ishvornik</i> nodded, back we went helter-skelter to the wharf and—the
- steamer was gone!
- </p>
- <p>
- I have had some bad moments in my life, but that one stands out still.
- Why, I hardly know, for sitting here in my garden it does not seem a very
- terrible thing. I had plenty of money in my pocket and there were hotels
- in the town. But no! more than ever, safe here in Kent, do I dread a
- Siberian hotel! Then I was distinctly afraid. I might so easily have
- disappeared and no one would have asked questions for months to come. I
- tried to tell the boy I wanted to go to one of those dreaded hotels—I
- felt I would have to risk it, for I certainly could not spend the night in
- a droshky—and I could not make him understand. Perhaps, as in
- Saghalien, there were no hotels to accommodate a woman of my class, or
- perhaps, as is most probable, they were all full of soldiers, anyhow he
- only looked at me blankly, and Buchanan and I looked at each other.
- Buchanan anyhow had no fears. He was quite sure I could take care of him.
- I looked at the boy again and then, as if he had suddenly had an
- inspiration, he drove me back to the place opposite the ferry whence we
- had come. The soldiers were there still, crowds and crowds of them, with
- their little carts and horses, and they were amusing themselves by
- stealing each other's fodder; the ferry had come back, but there were no
- soldiers on it, only the country people were crowding down. I had been
- forbidden to go upon it, and never should I have dreamt of disobeying
- orders, but my driver had different views. He waited till no officer was
- looking, seized my baggage and flung it down on the great ferry right in
- front of the military stores, beside the refreshment stall where they were
- selling sausages and bread in round rings such as peasants eat, and tea
- and lemonade. I had not expected to find so commonplace a thing on a river
- in Siberia. Now I had sat in that dilapidated carriage for over four hours
- and I was weary to death, also I could not afford to be parted from my
- luggage, so I put Buchanan under my arm—it was too muddy for him to
- walk—and followed as fast as I could. My good angel prompted me to
- pay that driver well. I paid him twice what the mate had said it ought to
- cost me if I waited half-a-day, and never have I laid out money to better
- advantage. He turned to a big man who was standing by, a man in sea-boots,
- a red belted blouse and the tall black Astrakhan cap that I have always
- associated in my own mind 'with Circassians, and spoke to him, saying
- “Anglisky.” Evidently he said it might be worth his while to look after
- me. I don't know whether this gentleman was a Caucasian, one of the
- “wolves of the Amur,” but whoever he was, he was a very hefty and capable
- individual, with a very clear idea of what a foreign lady ought to do, and
- he promptly constituted himself my guardian.
- </p>
- <p>
- After all, the world, take it on the whole, is a very kindly, honest
- place. So many times have I been stranded when I might quite easily have
- been stripped of everything, and always some good Samaritan has come to my
- aid, and the reward, though I did my best, has never been commensurate
- with the services rendered.
- </p>
- <p>
- The ferry across the Shilka at Stretensk is a great affair, like a young
- paddock afloat, and beside the horses and carts upon it were a number of
- country people with their bundles. I sat there a little uncomfortably
- because I did not know what would happen, only I was determined not to be
- parted from my baggage. Presently the huge float drifted off, amidst wild
- shouts and yells. When I was there, a great deal in Russia was done to the
- accompaniment of much shouting, and I rather fancy that this ferry was
- going off on an unauthorised jaunt of its own. The Shilka is a broad river
- here, a fortnight's steamer journey from its mouth, but the ferry came to
- a full stop in the middle of the stream and a motor boat which did not
- look as if it could hold half the people came alongside.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Skurry! Skurry!” was the cry, and the people began leaping overboard into
- the boat. The military were getting rid summarily of their civilian crowd.
- In a few seconds that boat was packed to the gunwales and I was looking
- over at it. I had Buchanan under my arm; he was always a good little dog
- at critical moments, understanding it was his part to keep quiet and give
- as little trouble as possible. In my other hand I had my despatch-case,
- and, being anything but acrobatic by temperament, I felt it was hopeless
- to think of getting into it. If the penalty for not doing so had been
- death, I do not think I could have managed it. However, I didn't have a
- say in the matter. The big Russian in the red blouse picked me up and
- dropped me, little dog, box and all, into the boat, right on top of the
- people already there. First I was on top, and then, still hanging on to my
- little dog, I slipped down a little, but my feet found no foothold; I was
- wedged between the screaming people. After me, with my luggage on his
- shoulder, came my guardian, and he somehow seemed to find a very
- precarious foothold on the gunwale, and he made me understand he wanted
- two roubles for our fares. If he had asked for ten he would have got it,
- but how I managed to get at my money to this day I do not know. The boat
- rocked and swayed in a most alarming manner, and I thought to myself,
- Well, we are on top now, but presently the boat will upset and then we
- shall certainly be underneath. I gathered that the passengers were
- disputing with the boatman as to the price to be paid for the passage
- across, though this was unwise, for the ferry was threatening momentarily
- to crush us against the rocky bank. He was asking sixty kopecks—a
- little over a shilling—and with one voice they declared that forty
- was enough. Considering the crowd, forty I should have thought would have
- paid him excellently. That I had given my guardian more did not trouble
- me, because any extra he earned was more than justified, for one thing was
- certain, I could never have tackled the job by myself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just as I was growing desperate and Buchanan began to mention that he was
- on the verge of suffocation the difficulty of the fares was settled and we
- made for the bank. But we did not go to the usual landing-stage; that, I
- presume, was forbidden as sacred to the soldiers, and we drew up against a
- steep, high bank faced with granite.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Skurry! Skurry!” And more than ever was haste necessary, for it looked as
- if the great ferry would certainly crush us. The people began scrambling
- up. But I was helpless. Whatever happened, I knew I could never climb that
- wall. I could only clutch my little dog and await events. My guardian was
- quite equal to the situation. The boat had cleared a little and there was
- room to move, and, dropping the baggage, he picked me up like a baby and
- tossed me, dog and all, up on to the bank above. Whether that boat got
- clear away from the ferry I do not know. When I visited the place next
- morning there were no remains, so I presume she did, but at the time I was
- giving all my attention to catching a train.
- </p>
- <p>
- My guardian engaged a boy to carry the lighter baggage, and shouldering
- the rest himself, he took me by the arm and fairly raeed me up the steep
- incline to the railway station that was a seething mass of khaki-clad men.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Billet! Billet!” said he, raping the sweat from his streaming face and
- making a way for me among the thronging recruits. There was a train coming
- in and he evidently intended I should catch it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Such a crowd it was, and in the railway station confusion was worse
- confounded. It was packed with people—people of the poorer class—and
- with soldiers, and everyone was giving his opinion of things in general at
- the top of his voice. My stalwart guardian elbowed a way to the
- pigeon-hole, still crying, “Billet! Billet!” and I, seeing I wanted a
- ticket to Petrograd, produced a hundred-rouble note. The man inside pushed
- it away with contumely and declined it in various unknown tongues. I
- offered it again, and again it was thrust rudely aside, my guardian
- becoming vehement in his protests, though what he said I have not the
- faintest idea. I offered it a third time, then a man standing beside me
- whisked it away and whisked me away too.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, are you mad?” he asked, as Mr Barentzen had asked over a week
- before, but he spoke in French, very Russian French. And then he proceeded
- to explain volubly that all around were thieves, robbers and assassins—oh!
- the land of suffering exiles—the mobilisation had called them up,
- and any one of them would cut my throat for a good deal less than a
- ten-pound note. And he promptly shoved the offending cash in his pocket.
- It was the most high-handed proceeding I have ever taken part in, and I
- looked at him in astonishment. He was a man in a green uniform, wearing a
- military cap with pipings of white and magenta, and the white and magenta
- were repeated on the coat and trousers. On the whole, the effect was
- reassuring. A gentleman so attired was really too conspicuous to be
- engaged in any very nefarious occupation.
- </p>
- <p>
- He proceeded to explain that by that train I could not go.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was reserved for the troops. They were turning out the people already
- in it. This in a measure explained the bedlam in the station. The people
- who did not want to be landed here and the people who wanted to get away
- were comparing notes, and there were so many of them they had to do it at
- the top of their voices.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When does the next train go?” I asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- My new friend looked dubious. “Possibly to-morrow night,” said he. That
- was cheering.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And where is there a hotel?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He pointed across the river to Stretensk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are there none this side?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, Madame, not one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I debated. Cross that river again after all it had cost me to get here I
- could not.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But where can I stay?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked round as if he were offering palatial quarters.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, Madame, here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In the railway station; there was nothing else for it; and in that railway
- station I waited till the train came in the following evening.
- </p>
- <p>
- That little matter settled, I turned to reward my first friend for his
- efforts on my behalf, and I felt five roubles was little enough. My new
- friend was very scornful, a rouble was ample, he considered. He had my
- ten-pound note in his pocket, and I am afraid I was very conscious that he
- had not yet proved himself, whereas the other man had done me yeoman's
- service, and never have I parted with ten shillings with more
- satisfaction. They were certainly earned.
- </p>
- <p>
- After, I set myself to make the best of the situation. The station was
- crowded with all sorts and conditions of people, and a forlorn crowd they
- looked, and curious was the flotsam and jetsam that were their belongings.
- Of course there was the usual travellers' baggage, but there were other
- things too I did not expect to come across in a railway station in
- Siberia. There was a sewing-machine; there was the trumpet part of a
- gramophone; there was the back of a piano with all the wires showing;
- there was a dressmaker's stand, the stuffed form of a woman, looking
- forlorn and out of place among the bundles of the soldiers.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the people accepted it as all in the day's work, watched the soldiers
- getting into the carriages from which they were debarred, and waved their
- hands and cheered them, though the first train that started for anywhere
- did not leave till one-fifteen a.m. next morning. They were content that
- the soldiers should be served first. They settled themselves in little
- companies on the open platform, in the refreshment-room, in the
- waiting-rooms, fathers, mothers, children and dogs, and they solaced
- themselves with kettles of tea, black bread and sausages.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was all so different from what I had expected, so very different, but
- the first effect was to bring home to me forcibly the fact that there was
- a great struggle going on in the West, and Eastern Siberia was being drawn
- into the whirlpool, sending her best, whether they were the exiles of my
- dreams or the thieves and robbers my newest friend had called them, to
- help in the struggle! To wait a night and day in a railway station was
- surely a little sacrifice to what some must make. How cheerfully and
- patiently that Siberian crowd waited! There were no complaints, no moans,
- only here and there a woman buried her head in her shawl and wept for her
- nearest and dearest, gone to the war, gone out into the unknown, and she
- might never see him again, might never even know what became of him. Truly
- “They also serve who only stand and wait.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I went into the refreshment-room to get some food, and had soup with sour
- cream in it, and ate chicken and bread and butter and cucumber and drank
- <i>kvass</i> as a change from the eternal tea. I watched the people on the
- platform and as the shades of night fell began to wonder where I should
- sleep. I would have chosen the platform, but it looked as if it might
- rain, so I went into the ladies' waiting-room, dragged a seat across the
- open window, and spread out my rugs and cushions and established myself
- there. I wanted to have first right to that window, for the night up in
- the hills here was chilly and I felt sure somebody would come in and want
- to shut it. My intuitions were correct. Buchanan and I kept that open
- window against a crowd. Everybody who came in—and the room was soon
- packed—wanted to shut it. They stretched over me and I arose from my
- slumbers and protested. For, in addition to a crowd, the sanitary
- arrangements were abominable, and what the atmosphere would have been like
- with the window shut I tremble to think. I remembered the tales of the
- pestilential resthouses into which the travelling exiles had been thrust,
- and I was thankful for that window, thankful too that it was summer-time,
- for in winter I suppose we would have had to shut it. At last one woman
- pulled at my rugs and said—though I could not understand her
- language her meaning was plain enough—that it was all very well for
- me, I had plenty of rugs, it was they who had nothing. It was a fair
- complaint, so with many qualms I shared my rugs and the summer night
- slowly wore to morning.
- </p>
- <p>
- And morning brought its own difficulties. Russian washing arrangements to
- me are always difficult. I had met them first in Kharbin in the house of
- Mr Poland. I wrestled with the same thing in the house of the Chief of
- Police in Saghalien, and I met it in an aggravated form here in the
- railway station waiting-room. A Russian basin has not a plug—it is
- supposed to be cleaner to wash in running water—and the tap is a
- twirly affair with two spouts, and on pressing a little lever water gushes
- out of both and, theoretically, you may direct it where you please.
- Practically I found that while I was directing one stream of water down on
- to my hands, the other hit me in the eye or the ear, and when I got that
- right the first took advantage of inattention and deluged me round the
- waist. It may be my inexperience, but I do not like Russian basins. It was
- running water with a vengeance, it all ran away.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, I did the best I could, and after, as my face was a little rough
- and sore from the hot sun of the day before, I took out a jar of hazeline
- cream and began to rub it on my cheeks. This proceeding aroused intense
- interest in the women around. What they imagined the cream was for I don't
- know, but one and all they came and begged some, and as long as that pot
- held out every woman within range had hazeline cream daubed on her
- weather-beaten cheeks, and they omitted to rub it off, apparently
- considering it ornamental. However, hazeline cream is a pleasant
- preparation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Having dressed, Buchanan and I had the long day before us, and I did not
- dare leave the railway station to explore because I was uneasy about my
- luggage. I had had it put in the corner of the refreshment-room and as far
- as I could see no one was responsible for it, and as people were coming
- and going the livelong day I felt bound to keep an eye upon it. I also
- awaited with a good deal of interest the gentleman with the variegated
- uniform and my ten-pound note. He came at last, and explained in French
- that he had got the change but he could not give it to me till the train
- came in because of the thieves and robbers, as if he would insist upon
- tearing the veil of romance I had mapped round Siberia. And God forgive me
- that I doubted the honesty of a very kindly, courteous gentleman.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a long, long day because there was really nothing to do save to
- walk about for Buchanan's benefit, and I diversified things by taking odd
- meals in the refreshment-room whenever I felt I really must do something.
- But I was very tired. I began to feel I had been travelling too long, and
- I really think if it had not been for Buchanan's sympathy I should have
- wept. No one seemed at all certain when the next train west might be
- expected, opinions, judging by fingers pointing at the clock, varying
- between two o'clock in the afternoon and three o'clock next morning.
- However, as the evening shadows were beginning to fall a train did come
- in, and my friend in uniform, suddenly appearing, declared it was the
- western train. Taking me by the hand, he led me into a carriage and,
- shutting the door and drawing down the blinds, placed in my hands change
- for my ten-pound note.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guard your purse, Madame,” said he, “guard your purse. There are thieves
- and robbers everywhere!”
- </p>
- <p>
- So all the way across Siberia had I been warned of the unsafe condition of
- the country. At Kharbin, at Nikolayeusk, at Blagoveschensk men whose good
- faith I could not doubt assured me that a ten-pound note and helplessness
- was quite likely to spell a sudden and ignominious end to my career, and
- this was in the days when no one doubted the power of the Tsar, a bitter
- commentary surely on an autocracy. What the condition of Siberia must be
- now, with rival factions fighting up and down the land, and released
- German prisoners throwing the weight of their strength in with the
- Bolshevists, I tremble to think.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he made sure I had carefully hidden my money and thoroughly realised
- the gravity of the situation, my friend offered to get my ticket, a
- second-class ticket, he suggested. I demurred. I am not rich and am not
- above saving my pennies, but a first-class ticket was so cheap, and
- ensured so much more privacy, that a second-class was an economy I did not
- feel inclined to make. He pointed round the carriage in which we were
- seated. Was this not good enough for anyone? It was. I had to admit it,
- and the argument was clinched by the fact that there was not a first-class
- carriage on the train. The ticket only cost about five pounds and another
- pound bought a ticket for Buchanan. We got in—my friend in need got
- in with me, that misjudged friend; it seemed he was the stationmaster at a
- little place a little way down the line—and we were fairly off on
- our road to the West.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XV—ON A RUSSIAN MILITARY TRAIN
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> was in the train
- at last, fairly on my way home, and I was glad. But I wasn't glad for very
- long. I began to wish myself back in the railway station at Stretensk,
- where at least I had fresh air. At first I had the window open and a
- corner seat. There are only two people on a seat in a Russian
- long-distance train, because when night falls they let down the seat
- above, which makes a bunk for the second person. But I was second class
- and my compartment opened without a door into the other compartments in
- the carriage, also two more bunks appeared crossways, and they were all
- filled with people. We were four women, two men who smoked, a baby who
- cried, and my little dog. I spread out my rugs and cushions, and when I
- wanted the window open the majority were against me. Not only was the
- window shut, but every ventilating arrangement was tightly closed also,
- and presently the atmosphere was pestilential. I grew desperate. I
- wandered out of the carriage and got on to the platform at the end, where
- the cold wind—for all it was August—cut me like a knife. The
- people objected to that cold wind coming in, and the next time I wandered
- out for a breath of fresh air I found the door barred and no prayers of
- mine would open it. In that carriage the people were packed like sardines,
- but though I was three-quarters suffocated no one else seemed at all the
- worse. I couldn't have looked at breakfast next morning, but the rest of
- the company preened themselves and fed cheerfully from the baskets they
- carried. Then at last I found a student going to a Western Siberian
- university who spoke a little French and through him I told the
- authorities that if I could not be transferred to a first-class carriage I
- was to be left behind at the next station. I had spent a night in a
- station and I knew all about it; it wasn't nice, but it was infinitely
- preferable to a night in a crowded second-class carriage.
- </p>
- <p>
- After a little while the train master came and with the aid of the student
- informed me that there would be a first-class carriage a little farther on
- and if there was room I should go in it, also we would know in an hour or
- so.
- </p>
- <p>
- So I bore up, and at a little town in the hills I was taken to a
- first-class compartment. There were three—that is, six bunks—making
- up half of a second-class carriage, and they were most luxurious, with
- mirrors and washing arrangements complete. The one I entered was already
- occupied by a very stout woman who, though we did not know any tongue in
- common, made me understand she was going to a place we would reach next
- morning for an operation, and she apologised—most unnecessarily but
- most courteously—for making me take the top bunk. She had a big
- Irish setter with her whom she called “Box”—“Anglisky,” as she said—and
- “Box” was by no means as courteous and friendly as his mistress, and not
- only objected to Buchanan's presence but said so in no measured terms. I
- had to keep my little dog up on the top bunk all the time, where he peered
- over and whimpered protestingly at intervals. There was one drawback, and
- so kind and hospitable was my stable companion that I hardly liked to
- mention it, but the atmosphere in that compartment you could have cut with
- a knife. Wildly I endeavoured to open the windows, and she looked at me in
- astonishment. But I was so vehement that the student was once more brought
- along to interpret, and then everybody took a turn at trying to open that
- window. I must say I think it was exceedingly kind and hospitable of them,
- for these people certainly shrank from the dangers of a draught quite as
- much as I did from the stuffiness of a shut window. But it was all to no
- purpose. That window had evidently never been opened since the carriage
- was made and it held on gallantly to the position it had taken up. They
- consulted together, and at length the student turned to me:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Calm yourself, Madame, calm yourself; a man will come with an
- instrument.” And three stations farther down the line a man did appear
- with an instrument and opened that window, and I drew in deep breaths of
- exceedingly dusty fresh air.
- </p>
- <p>
- The lady in possession and I shared our breakfast. She made the tea, and
- she also cleaned out the kettle by the simple process of emptying the tea
- leaves into the wash-hand basin. That, as far as I saw, was the only use
- she made of the excellent washing arrangements supplied by the railway.
- But it is not for me to carp, she was so kind, and bravely stood dusty
- wind blowing through the compartment all night just because I did not like
- stuffiness. And when she was gone, O luxury! Buchanan and I had the
- carriage to ourselves all the way to Irkutsk.
- </p>
- <p>
- And this was Siberia. We were going West, slowly it is true, but with
- wonderful swiftness I felt when I remembered—and how should I not
- remember every moment of the time?—that this was the great and
- sorrowful road along which the exiles used to march, that the summer sun
- would scorch them, these great plains would be snow-covered and the
- biting, bitter wind would freeze them long before they reached their
- destination. I looked ahead into the West longingly; but I was going
- there, would be there in less than a fortnight at the most, while their
- reluctant feet had taken them slowly, the days stretched into weeks, the
- weeks into months, and they were still tramping east into an exile that
- for all they knew would be lifelong. Ah! but this road must have been
- watered with blood and tears. Every river, whether they were ferried over
- it or went across on the ice, must have seemed an added barrier to the man
- or woman thinking of escape; every forest would mean for them either
- shelter or danger, possibly both, for I had not forgotten the tigers of
- the Amur and the bears and wolves that are farther west. And yet the
- steppes, those hopeless plains, must have afforded still less chance of
- escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- Oh! my early ideas were right after all. Nature was jailer enough here in
- Siberia. Men did escape, we know, but many more must have perished in the
- attempt, and many, many must have resigned themselves to their bitter
- fate, for surely all the forces of earth and air and sky had ranged
- themselves on the side of the Tsar. This beautiful country, and men had
- marched along it in chains!
- </p>
- <p>
- At Chita, greatly to my surprise, my <i>sotnik</i> of Cossacks joined the
- train, and we greeted eaeh other as old friends. Indeed I was pleased to
- see his smiling face again, and Buchanan benefited largely, for many a
- time when I was not able to take him out for a little run our friend came
- along and did it for us.
- </p>
- <p>
- The platforms at Siberian stations are short and this troop train, packed
- with soldiers, was long, so that many a time our carriage never drew up at
- the platform at all. This meant that the carriage was usually five feet
- from the ground, and often more. I am a little woman and five feet was all
- I could manage, when it was more it was beyond me. Of course I could have
- dropped down, but it would have been impossible to haul myself up again,
- to say nothing of getting Buchanan on board. A Russian post train—and
- this troop train was managed to all intents and purposes as a post train—stops
- at stations along the line so that the passengers may get food, and five
- minutes before it starts it rings a “Make ready” bell one minute before it
- rings a second bell, “Take your seats,” and with a third bell off the
- train goes. And it would have gone inexorably even though I, having
- climbed down, had been unable to climb up again. Deeply grateful then were
- Buehanan and I to the <i>sotnik</i> of Cossacks, who recognised our
- limitations and never forgot us.
- </p>
- <p>
- I liked these Russian post trains far better than the train <i>de luxe</i>,
- with its crowd and its comforts and its cosmopolitan atmosphere. A Russian
- post train in those days had an atmosphere of its own. It was also much
- cheaper. From Stretensk to Petrograd, including Buehanan, the cost was a
- little over nine pounds for the tickets, and I bought my food by the way.
- It was excellent and very cheap. All the things I had bought in Kharbin,
- especially the kettles, came into use once more. The moment the train
- stopped out tumbled the soldiers, crowds and crowds of them, and raced for
- the provision stalls and for the large boilers full of water that are a
- feature of every Russian station on the overland line. These boilers are
- always enclosed in a building just outside the railway station, and the
- spouts for the boiling water, two, three and sometimes four in a row, come
- out through the walls. Beside every spout is an iron handle which, being
- pulled, brings the boiling water gushing out. Russia even in those days
- before the revolution struck me as strangely democratic, for the soldiers,
- the non-commissioned officers, the officers and everyone else on the train
- mingled in the struggle for hot water. I could never have got mine filled,
- but my Cossack friend always remembered me and if he did not come himself
- sent someone to get my kettles. Indeed everyone vied in being kind to the
- Englishwoman, to show, I think, their good will to the only representative
- of the Allied nation on the train.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was at breakfast-time one warm morning I first made the acquaintance of
- “that very great officer,” as the others called him, the captain of the <i>Askold</i>.
- He was in full naval uniform, and at that time I was not accustomed to
- seeing naval officers in uniform outside their ships, and he was racing
- along the platform, a little teapot in one hand, intent on filling it with
- hot water to make coffee. He was not ashamed to pause and come to the
- assistance of a foreigner whom he considered the peasants were shamefully
- overcharging. They actually wanted her to pay a farthing a piece for their
- largest cucumbers! He spoke French and so we were able to communicate, and
- he was kind enough to take an interest in me and declare that he himself
- would provide me with cucumbers. He got me four large ones and when I
- wanted to repay him he laughed and said it was hardly necessary as they
- only cost a halfpenny! He had the compartment next to mine and that
- morning he sent me in a glass of coffee—we didn't run to cups on
- that train. Excellent coffee it was too. Indeed I was overwhelmed with
- provisions. One woman does not want very much to eat, but unless I
- supplied myself liberally and made it patent to all that I had enough and
- more than enough I was sure to be supplied by my neighbours out of
- friendship for my nation. From the Cossack officer, from a Hussar officer
- and his wife who had come up from Ugra in Mongolia, and from the captain
- of the <i>Askold</i> I was always receiving presents. Chickens, smoked
- fish—very greasy, in a sheet of paper, eaten raw and very excellent—raspberries
- and blue berries, to say nothing of cucumbers, were rained upon me.
- </p>
- <p>
- At some stations there was a buffet and little tables set about where the
- first and second class passengers could sit down and have <i>déjeuner</i>,
- or dinner, but oftener, especially in the East, we all dashed out, first,
- second and third class, and at little stalls presided over by men with
- kerchiefs on their heads and sturdy bare feet, women that were a joy to me
- after the effete women of China, bought what we wanted, took it back with
- us into the carriages and there ate it. I had all my table things in a
- basket, including a little saucer for Buchanan. It was an exceedingly
- economical arrangement, and I have seldom enjoyed food more. The bread and
- butter was excellent. You could buy fine white bread, and bread of varying
- quality to the coarse black bread eaten by the peasant, and I am bound to
- say I very much like fine white bread. There was delicious cream; there
- were raspberries and blue berries to be bought for a trifle; there were
- lemons for the tea; there was German beet sugar; there were roast chickens
- at sixpence apiece, little pasties very excellent for twopence-halfpenny,
- and rapchicks, a delicious little bird a little larger than a partridge,
- could be bought for fivepence, and sometimes there was plenty of honey.
- Milk, if a bottle were provided, could be had for a penny-farthing a
- quart, and my neighbours soon saw that I did not commit the extravagance
- of paying three times as much for it, which was what it cost if you bought
- the bottle.
- </p>
- <p>
- The English, they said, were very rich! and they were confirmed in their
- belief when they found how I bought milk. Hard-boiled eggs were to be had
- in any quantity, two and sometimes three for a penny-farthing. I am
- reckoning the kopeck as a farthing. These were first-class prices, the
- soldiers bought much more cheaply. Enough meat to last a man a day could
- be bought for a penny-farthing, and good meat too—such meat nowadays
- I should pay at least five shillings for.
- </p>
- <p>
- Was all this abundance because the exiles had tramped wearily across the
- steppes? How much hand had they had in the settling of the country? I
- asked myself the question many times, but nowhere found an answer. The
- stations were generally crowded, but the country round was as empty as it
- had been along the Amur.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the train went steadily on. Very slowly though—we only went at
- the rate of three hundred versts a day, why, I do not know. There we stuck
- at platforms where there was nothing to do but walk up and down and look
- at the parallel rails coming out of the East on the horizon and running
- away into the West on the horizon again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We shall never arrive,” I said impatiently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah! Madame, we arrive, we arrive,” said the Hussar officer, and he spoke
- a little sadly. And then I remembered that for him arrival meant parting
- with his comely young wife and his little son. They had with them a
- fox-terrier whom I used to ask into my compartment to play with Buchanan,
- and they called him “Sport.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An English name,” they said smilingly. If ever I have a fox-terrier I
- shall call him “Sport,” in kindly remembrance of the owners of the little
- friend I made on that long, long journey across the Old World. And the
- Hussar officer's wife, I put it on record, liked fresh air as much as I
- did myself. As I walked up and down the train, even though it was warm
- summer weather, I always knew our two carriages because in spite of the
- dust we had our windows open. The rest of the passengers shut theirs most
- carefully. The second class were packed, and the third class were simply
- on top of one another—I should not think they could have inserted
- another baby—and the reek that came from the open doors and that
- hung about the people that came out of them was disgusting.
- </p>
- <p>
- I used to ask my Cossack friend to tea sometimes—I could always buy
- cakes by the wayside—and he was the only person I ever met who took
- salt with his tea. He assured me the Mongolians always did so, but I must
- say though I have tried tea in many ways I don't like that custom.
- </p>
- <p>
- In Kobdo, ten thousand feet among the mountains in the west of Mongolia,
- was a great lama, and the Cossack was full of this man's prophecy.
- </p>
- <p>
- Three emperors, said the lama, would fight. One would be overwhelmed and
- utterly destroyed, the other would lose immense sums of money, and the
- third would have great glory.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Tsar, Madame,” said my friend, “the Tsar, of course, is the third.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I wonder what part he took in the revolution. He was a Balt, a man from
- the Baltic Provinces, heart and soul with the Poles, and he did not even
- call himself a Russian. Well, the Tsar has been overwhelmed, but which is
- the one who is to have great glory? After all, the present is no very
- great time for kings and emperors. I am certainly not taking any stock in
- them as a whole. Perhaps that lama meant the President of the United
- States!
- </p>
- <p>
- We went round Lake Baikal, and the Holy Sea, that I had seen before one
- hard plain of glittering ice, lay glittering now, beautiful still in the
- August sunshine. There were white sails on it and a steamer or two, and
- men were feverishly working at alterations on the railway. The Angara ran
- swiftly, a mighty river, and we steamed along it into the Irkutsk station,
- which is by no means Irkutsk, for the town is—Russian fashion—four
- miles away on the other side of the river.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Irkutsk it seemed to me we began to be faintly Western again. And the
- exiles who had come so far I suppose abandoned hope here. All that they
- loved—all their life—lay behind. I should have found it hard
- to turn back and go east myself now. What must that facing east have been
- for them?
- </p>
- <p>
- They turned us out of the train, and Buchanan and I were ruefully
- surveying our possessions, heaped upon the platform, wondering how on
- earth we were to get them taken to the cloakroom and how we should get
- them out again supposing they were taken, when the captain of the <i>Askold</i>
- appeared with a porter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would Madame permit,” he asked, not as if he were conferring a favour,
- “that her luggage be put with mine in the cloakroom?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Madame could have hugged him. Already the dusk was falling, the soft, warm
- dusk, and the people were hastening to the town or to the
- refreshment-rooms. There would be no train that night, said my kind
- friend, some time in the morning perhaps, but certainly not that night. I
- sighed. Again I was adrift, and it was not a comfortable feeling.
- </p>
- <p>
- If Madame desired to dine—— Madame did desire to dine.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then if Madame permits—— Of course Madame permitted.
- </p>
- <p>
- She was most grateful. And we dined together at the same table outside the
- station restaurant—I like that fashion of dining outside—under
- the brilliant glare of the electric light. He arranged everything for me,
- even to getting some supper for Buchanan. And I forgot the exiles who had
- haunted me, forgot this was Siberia. Here in the restaurant, save for the
- Tartar waiters, it might almost have been France.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps,” said my companion courteously as we were having coffee, “Madame
- would care to come to my hotel. I could interpret for her and here no one
- speaks anything but Russian.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again I could have hugged him. I intimated my dressing-bag was in the
- cloakroom, but he smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For one night!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He himself had nothing, so there and then we got into one of the usual
- decrepit landaus and went to the town, to Irkutsk on the Angara, in the
- heart of Siberia. If in my girlish days when I studied the atlas of the
- world so carefully I could have known that one day I should be driving
- into Irkutsk, that map would have been glorified for ever and a day; but I
- could never have realised, never, that it would be set in a summer land,
- warm as my own country, and that I should feel it a great step on towards
- the civilisation of the West.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was night, and here and there clustering electric lights glittered like
- diamonds, making darker the spaces in between. In the morning I saw that
- the capital of Eastern Siberia, like all the other towns of that country,
- is a regular frontier town. There were the same wide streets grass-grown
- at the edges, great houses and small houses side by side, and empty spaces
- where as yet there were no houses. We went to the Central Hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not go to an expensive hotel,” my companion told me, “this is a
- moderate one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But if it were moderate it certainly was a very large and nice hotel.
- Russian hotels do not as a rule provide food, the restaurant is generally
- separate, but we had already dined. That naval officer made all
- arrangements for me. He even explained to an astonished chamber-maid with
- her hair done in two long plaits that I must have all the windows open and
- when I tried for a bath did his best for me. But again, he explained,
- Russians as a rule go to a bath-house, and there was only one bathroom in
- this hotel; it had been engaged for two hours by a gentleman, and he
- thought, seeing I should have to start early in the morning, it might be
- rather late for me to have a bath then, but if I liked in the morning it
- would be at my service.
- </p>
- <p>
- If anyone had told me in the old days that going to Irkutsk I should be
- deeply interested in a bath!
- </p>
- <p>
- I engaged that bath for an hour in the morning as that seemed to be the
- correct thing to do. Then I went to bed and heartily envied Buchanan, who
- did not have to bother about toilet arrangements.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the morning early there was a knock at the door and when I said “Come
- in,” half expecting tea, there was my naval officer in full uniform
- smilingly declaring my bath was ready, he had paid the bill, and I could
- pay him back when we were on board the train. The chamber-maid, with her
- hair still done in two plaits—I rather fancy she had slept in them—conducted
- me to the bathroom, and I pass over the difficulty of doing without brush
- and comb and tooth-brush. But I washed the dust out of my hair, and when I
- was as tidy as I could manage I joined the captain of the <i>Askold</i>
- and we drove back through the town to the railway station.
- </p>
- <p>
- The station was a surging mass of people all talking at once, and all, I
- suppose, objurgating the railway management, but we two had breakfast
- together in the pleasant sunlight. We had fresh rolls and butter and
- coffee and cream and honey—I ask no better breakfast when these
- things are good—and meanwhile people, officials, came and went,
- discussing evidently some important matter with my friend. He departed for
- a moment, and then the others that I had known came up, my Cossack friend
- and the Hussar officer, and told me that the outgoing train was a military
- train, it would be impossible for a woman, a civilian and a foreigner at
- that, to go on it. I said the captain of the <i>Askold</i> had assured me
- I could, and they shook their heads and then said hopefully, well, he was
- a very great officer, the captain of a ship, and I realised that no lesser
- authority could possibly have managed this thing for me. And even he was
- doubtful, for when he came back and resumed his interrupted breakfast he
- said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “The train is full. The military authorities will not allow you on board.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That really did seem to me tragedy at the moment. I forgot the sorrowful
- people who would gladly enough have stayed their journey at Irkutsk. But
- their faces were set East. I forgot that after all a day or two out of a
- life would not matter very much, or rather I think I hated to part from
- these kindly friends I had made on the train. I suppose I looked my
- disappointment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait. Wait. It is not yet finished,” said my friend kindly. “They give me
- two compartments”—I felt then he was indeed “a very great officer,”
- for the people were packed in that train, tier upon tier, like herrings in
- a barrel—“and I cannot sleep in four bunks. It is ridiculous.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That may have been, but it was kindness itself of him to establish a
- stranger in one of those compartments. It was most comfortable, and
- Buchanan and I being established, and my luggage having come safely to
- hand, I proceeded to make the most of the brush and comb that had come
- once more into my possession, and I felt that the world was a very good
- place indeed as we sped across the green plain in the sunny morning. I
- could hardly believe that this goodly land was the one to which I had
- always been accustomed to think men went as to a living death.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I forgot other folks' troubles in my own, for envious eyes were
- cast upon the spare bunk in my compartment. No one would have dreamt of
- interfering had the sailor insisted upon having all four for himself, but
- since he had parted with the rights of one compartment to a foreign woman,
- it was evident that other people, crowded out, began to think of their own
- comfort. Various people interviewed me. I am afraid I understood
- thoroughly what they wanted, but I did not understand Russian, and I made
- the most of that disability. Also all my friends who spoke French kept out
- of the way, so I suppose they did not wish to aid and abet in upsetting my
- comfort. At last a most extraordinary individual with a handkerchief tied
- round his neck in lieu of a collar and a little tourist cap on the back of
- his head was brought, and he informed me in French that there was a doctor
- in the hospital section of the train who had not been in bed for a week,
- they could not turn the soldiers out, they must have rest, would I allow
- him to sleep in my compartment?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame,” he said, and the officials standing round emphasised the remark,
- if it needed emphasis, “it is war time. The train is for the soldiers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Certainly I was here on sufferance. They had a right to turn me out if
- they liked. So the doctor came and turned in in the top bunk, and his
- long-drawn snores took away from my sense of privacy.
- </p>
- <p>
- I don't think he liked it very much, for presently he was succeeded by a
- train official, very drunk, though I am bound to say he was the only
- drunken man I saw on all that long train journey from Stretensk to
- Petrograd. It was a little unlucky we were at such close quarters.
- Everyone, too, was very apologetic.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was a good fellow. It was an unfortunate accident and he would be very
- much ashamed.
- </p>
- <p>
- I suppose he was, for the next day he too disappeared and his place was
- taken by a professor from one of the Siberian universities who was seeking
- radium. He was a nice old gentleman who had learned English but had never
- had the chance of hearing it spoken. Where he went in the daytime I do not
- know, probably to a friend's compartment, and Buchanan and I had the place
- to ourselves. We could and did invite the Cossack officer and the Hussar
- officer and his belongings and the naval man to tea, and we had great
- games with the little fox-terrier “Sport” from next door, but when night
- fell the professor turned up and notified me he was about to go to bed.
- Then he retired and I went to bed first on the lower seat. He knocked,
- came in and climbed up to his bunk, and we discoursed on the affairs of
- the world, I correcting his curious pronunciation. He really was a man of
- the world; he was the sort of man I had expected to meet in Siberia, only
- I had never imagined him as free and sharing a railway compartment with
- me. I should have expected to find him toiling across the plains with the
- chains that bound his ankles hitched to his belt for convenience of
- carrying. But he looked and he spoke as any other cultivated old gentleman
- might have spoken, and looking back I see that his views of the war, given
- in the end of August, 1914, were quite the soundest I have ever listened
- to.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Allies will win,” he used to say, “yes, they will win.” And he shook
- his head. “But it will be a long war, and the place will be drenched in
- blood first. Two years, three years, I think four years.” I wonder if he
- foresaw the chaos that would fall upon Russia.
- </p>
- <p>
- These views were very different from those held by the other men.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame,” the Cossack would say, laughing, “do you know a good hotel in
- Berlin?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I looked up surprised. “Because,” he went on, “I engage a room there. We
- go to Berlin!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Peace dictated at Berlin,” said they all again and again, “peace dictated
- at Berlin.” This was during the first onward rush of the Russians. Then
- there came a setback, two towns were taken and the Germans demanded an
- indemnity of twenty thousand pounds apiece.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said the Cossack grimly, and the Hussar nodded his head.
- “They have set the tune. Now we know what to ask.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the professor looked grave. “Many towns will fall,” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- Another thing that struck me was the friendly relations of the officers
- with those under them. As the only representative of their Western Ally on
- the train, I was something of a curiosity, and soldiers and
- non-commissioned officers liked to make excuse to look at me. I only
- wished I had been a little smarter and better-looking for the sake of my
- country, for I had had no new clothes since the end of 1912. However, I
- had to make the best of it, and the men came to me on the platforms or to
- my compartment without fear. If by chance they knew a little French they
- spoke to me, helped out by their officers if their vocabulary ran short.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, Madame,” said an old non-commissioned officer, “would you be so
- good as to tell me how to pronounce the English 'zee'? I teach myself
- French, now I teach myself English.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Well, they had all been good to me and I had no means of repaying their
- kindness save vicariously, so I took him in hand and with the aid of a
- booklet published by the Wagons Lit Train du Luxe describing the journey
- across Siberia we wrestled with the difficulties of the English “th.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a long long journey. We crept across the great steppes, we lingered
- by stations, sometimes there were lakes, sometimes great rivers, but
- always the great plains. Far as the eye could see rolled the extent of
- green under the clear blue sky; often we saw herds of cattle and mobs of
- horses, and again and again companies of soldiers, and yet so vast is the
- country the sensation left upon the stranger is of emptiness, of a rich
- and fertile land crying out for inhabitants. I looked at it from the train
- with eager eyes, but I began to understand how there had grown up in my
- mind the picture of this lovely land as a dark and terrible place. To the
- prisoners who came here this plain, whether it were green and smiling, or
- whether it were deep in white snow, could only have been the barrier that
- cut them off from home and hope, from all that made life dear. How could
- they take up their broken lives here, they who for the most part were
- dwellers in the cities?
- </p>
- <p>
- Here was a regiment of soldiers; it was nothing, nothing, set in the vast
- plain. The buttercups and daisies and purple vetches were trampled down
- for a great space where men had been exercising or camping; but it was
- nothing. There were wide stretches of country where the cattle were
- peacefully feeding and where the flowers turned up smiling faces to the
- blue sky for miles and miles, making me forget that this had been the land
- of shadowed lives in the past and that away in the West men were fighting
- for their very existence, locked in a death-grip such as the world has
- never before seen.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was well there was something to look out upon, for that train was
- horrid. I realised something of the horrors of the post-houses in which
- the prisoners had been locked at night. We could get good food at every
- station, but in the train we were too close on the ground and the reek of
- us went up to heaven. I felt as if the atmosphere of the train desecrated
- the fresh, clear air of the great plain over which we passed, as if we
- must breed disease. The journey seemed interminable, and what I should do
- when it ended I did not know, for opinion was fairly unanimous: they were
- sure I could not get to England!
- </p>
- <p>
- With many apologies the captain of the <i>Askold</i> permitted himself to
- ask how I was off for money. I was a total stranger, met on a train, and a
- foreigner! I told him I had a little over forty pounds and if that were
- not enough I had thought to be able to send to London for more.
- </p>
- <p>
- He shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I doubt if even letters can get through.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And I sighed that then I did not know what I should do, for I had no
- friends in Petrograd.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pardon, Madame,” said he remonstrantly, and he gave me the address of his
- wife and daughters. He told me to go and see them; he assured me that
- everybody in Russia now wanted to learn English, that I would have no
- difficulty in getting pupils and so do myself very comfortably “till we
- make a passage to England again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Just before we reached Cheliabynsk he came and told me that he had heard
- there was a west-bound express with one place vacant, a ship awaited him
- and speed was very necessary, therefore he was leaving this train. Then at
- one of the greater stopping-places he bowed low over my hand, bade me
- farewell, made a dash and caught the express. I have never either seen or
- heard of him since, but he remains in my mind as one of the very kindly
- men I have met on my way through the world.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Cheliabynsk we spent the livelong day, for there the main part of the
- train went on to Moscow with the soldiers, while we who wanted to go to
- Petrograd caught a train in the evening. I was glad to find that the
- Hussar officer and the Cossack were both bound for Petrograd. And here we
- came in touch once more with the West. There was a bookstall, and though I
- could not buy an English paper I could and did buy an English book, one of
- John Galsworthy's in the Tauchnitz edition. It was a great delight to come
- in contact once more with something I could read. There was a big
- refreshment-room here with all manner of delectable things to eat, only we
- had passed beyond the sturgeon, and caviare was no longer to be had save
- at a price that was prohibitive to a woman who had had as much as she
- could eat and who anyhow was saving her pennies in case of contingencies.
- </p>
- <p>
- But one thing I did have, and that was a bath. In fact the whole train
- bathed. Near the station was a long row of bath-houses, but each one I
- visited—and they all seemed unpleasant places—was crowded with
- soldiers. After a third attempt to get taken in my Cossack friend met me
- and was shocked at the idea of my going to such a place; if I would trust
- him he would take me to a proper place after <i>déjeuner</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- Naturally I trusted him gladly, and we got into one of the usual
- broken-down landaus and drove away to the other side of the town to a row
- of quite superior bath-houses. My friend declared he knew the place well,
- he had been stationed here in “the last revolution,” as if revolutions
- came as regularly as the seasons.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a gorgeous bath-house. That young man bought me soap; he bought me
- some sort of loofah for scrubbing; he escorted me to three large rooms
- which I engaged for a couple of hours and, much to the surprise of the
- people, having had the windows opened, he left me, assuring me that the
- carriage should return for me in two hours. There was plenty of hot water,
- plenty of cold, and any amount of towels, and both Buchanan and I washed
- the grime of the journey from us and then rested on the sofa in the
- retiring-room. I read John Galsworthy and punctually to the moment I
- descended to the street, clean and refreshed, and there our carriage
- awaited us.
- </p>
- <p>
- We bought water-melons on our way back to the train, for the streets were
- heaped up with the great dark green melons with the pink flesh that I had
- not seen since I left Australia. Autumn was on the land and here were
- watermelons proof thereof.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ever as we went west the cornfields increased. Most of the wheat was cut
- and standing in golden-brown stooks waiting to be garnered by old men and
- boys and sturdy country women and those who were left of her young men,
- for Russia had by no means called out her last lines in 1914. There were
- still great patches of forest, primeval forest, of dense fir, and I
- remembered that here must be the haunts of the wolves and the bear with
- which I had always associated Russia. More, though why I know not, my mind
- flew back to the times of the nomad hordes who, coming out of Central
- Asia, imposed their rule upon the fair-haired Aryan race that had settled
- upon the northern plain of Europe. Those forests for me spelled Romance;
- they took away from the feeling of commonplaceness that the breaking down
- of my preconceived ideas of Siberia had engendered. Almost anything might
- happen in a land that held such forests, and such rivers. Not that I was
- allowed to see much of the rivers now. Someone always came in and drew
- down the blinds in my compartment—I had one to myself since leaving
- Cheliabynsk—and told me I must not go out on the platform whenever
- we crossed a bridge. They were evidently taking precautions against spying
- though they were too polite to say so. There were big towns with stations
- packed to overflowing. At Perm we met some German prisoners of war, and
- there were soldiers, soldiers everywhere, and at last one day in the first
- week in September we steamed into Petrograd.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVI—THE WAYS OF THE FINNS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was evening and
- we had arrived at Petrograd. For many years I had wanted to see the
- northern capital. I had thought of it as a town planned by a genius,
- slowly growing amid surrounding swamps, and in my childhood I had pictured
- that genius as steadily working as a carpenter—in a white paper cap—having
- always in his mind's eye the town that was to grow on the Baltic Sea, the
- seaport that should give his country free access to the civilisation of
- the West. He was a great hero of mine because of his efficiency; after all
- I see no reason why I should dethrone him now that I realise he had the
- faults of his time and his position.
- </p>
- <p>
- But in life I find things always come differently to what one pictures
- them. The little necessities of life will crop up and must be attended to
- first and foremost. The first thought that came to me was that I had to
- part with the friends I had made on the journey. Right away from the
- borders of China the Cossack officer and I had travelled together; I had
- met the Hussar officer and his wife soon after I had joined the train, and
- we seemed to have come out of one world into another together. It made a
- bond, and I for one was sorry to part. They were going to their own
- friends or to a Russian hotel, and the general consensus of opinion was
- that I would be more comfortable in a hotel where there were English or at
- least French people.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go to the Grand Hotel, Madame,” suggested the Hussar officer's wife, she
- who spoke perfect French.
- </p>
- <p>
- So Buchanan and I loaded our belongings on to a droshky that looked smart
- after the ones I had been accustomed to in Asia, bade farewell to our
- friends “till after the war”—the Cossack was coming to England then
- “to buy a dog”—and drove to the Grand Hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Grand Hotel spoke perfect English, looked at me and—declined to
- take me because I had a little dog. I was very much astonished, but
- clearly I couldn't abandon Buehanan, so I went on to the Hotel
- d'Angleterre, which also declined. I went from hotel to hotel and they all
- said the same thing, they could not think of taking in anyone accompanied
- by a dog. It was growing dark—it was dark, and after a fortnight on
- the train I was weary to death. How could I think of the glories of the
- Russian capital when I was wondering where I could find a resting-place? I
- couldn't turn Buchanan adrift in the streets, I couldn't camp in the
- streets myself, and the hotel porters who could speak English had no
- suggestions to make as to where I could bestow my little friend in safety.
- Six hotels we went to and everyone was firm and polite, they could not
- take a dog. At last a hotel porter had a great idea, the Hotel Astoria
- would take dogs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why on earth didn't someone tell me so before?” I said, and promptly went
- to the Hotel Astoria. It was rather like going to the Hotel Ritz, and
- though I should like to stay at the Hotel Ritz I would not recommend it to
- anyone who was fearing an unlimited stay in the country, who had only
- forty pounds to her credit and was not at all sure she could get any more.
- Still the Hotel Astoria took little dogs, actually welcomed them, and
- charged four shillings a day for their keep. I forgot Peter the Great and
- the building of the capital of Russia, revelling in the comforts of a
- delightful room all mirrors, of a bathroom attached and a dinner that it
- was worth coming half across the world to meet. My spirits rose and I
- began to be quite sure that all difficulties would pass away, I should be
- able to get back to England and there would be no need for that desperate
- economy. It was delightful to go to bed in a still bed between clean white
- sheets, to listen to the rain upon the window and to know that for this
- night at least all was well. I had seen no English papers; I knew nothing
- about the war, and it is a fact one's own comfort is very apt to colour
- one's views of life. Buchanan agreed with me this was a very pleasant
- world—as a rule I do find the world pleasant—it was impossible
- anything could go wrong in it.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the next day I received a snub—a snub from my own people.
- </p>
- <p>
- I went to the British Consulate full of confidence. Every foreigner I had
- met all across the world had been so pleased to see me, had been so
- courteous and kind, had never counted the cost when I wanted help, so that
- I don't know what I didn't expect from my own countrymen. I looked forward
- very mueh to meeting them. And the young gentleman in office snubbed me
- properly. He wasn't wanting any truck with foolish women who crossed
- continents; he didn't care one scrap whether I had come from Saghalien or
- just walked down the Nevsky Prospekt; I was a nuisance anyway, his manner
- gave me to understand, since I disturbed his peace and quiet, and the
- sooner I took myself out of the country the better he would be pleased. He
- just condescended to explain where I could get a ticket straight through
- to Newcastle-on-Tyne; people were doing it every day; he didn't know
- anything about the war, and his manner gave me to understand that it
- wasn't his business to supply travellers with news. I walked out of that
- office with all the jauntiness taken out of me. Possibly, I have thought
- since, he was depressed at the news from France, perhaps someone was
- jeering him because he had not joined up, or else he had wanted to join up
- and was not allowed. It was unlucky that my first Englishman after so long
- should be such a churlish specimen. I felt that unless my necessity was
- dire indeed I should not apply to the British Consulate for help in an
- emergency. I did not recover till I went to the company who sold through
- tickets, across Finland, across Sweden and Norway, across the North Sea to
- Newcastle-on-Tyne. There I bought a ticket for fifteen pounds which was to
- carry me the whole way. It was a Swedish company, I think, and the office
- was packed with people, Poles, Letts, Lithuanians and Russians, who were
- naturalised Americans and who wanted to go home. Everybody took the
- deepest interest in Buchanan, so much interest that the man in charge
- asked me if I was going to take him, I said “Of eourse,” and he shook his
- head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will never get him through Sweden. They are most strict.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Poor Buchanan! Despair seized me. Having been to the British Consulate, I
- knew it was no use seeking advice there. I suppose I was too tired or I
- should have remembered that Americans are always kind and helpful and gone
- there or even dared the British Embassy. But these ideas occurred to me
- too late.
- </p>
- <p>
- You may travel the world over and the places you visit will often remain
- in your mind as pleasant or otherwise not because of any of their own
- attributes, but because of the emotions you have suffered in them. Here
- was I in St Petrograd, and instead of exploring streets and canals and
- cathedrals and palaces my whole thoughts were occupied with the fate of my
- little dog. I “had given my heart to a dog to tear” and I was suffering in
- consequence. All the while I was in Petrograd—and I stayed there
- three days looking for a way out—my thoughts were given to James
- Buchanan. I discussed the matter with the authorities in the hotel who
- could speak English, and finally Buchanan and I made a peregrination to
- the Swedish Consulate. And though the Swedish Consulate was a deal more
- civil and more interested in me and my doings than the English, in the
- matter of a dog, even a nice little dog like Buchanan, they were firm—through
- Sweden he could not go.
- </p>
- <p>
- I read in the paper the other day that the world might be divided into men
- and women and people-who-hate-dogs, and these last will wonder what I was
- making such a fuss about, but the men and women will understand. My dear
- little companion and friend had made the lonely places pleasant for me and
- I could not get him out of the country save by turning round and going
- back across Europe, Asia and America!
- </p>
- <p>
- I went back to the place where I had bought my ticket. They also were
- sympathetic. Everyone in the office was interested in the tribulations of
- the cheerful little black and white dog who sat on the counter and wagged
- a friendly tail. I had many offers to take care of him for me, and the
- consensus of opinion was that he might be smuggled! And many tales were
- told me of dogs taken across the borders in overcoats and muffs, or
- drugged in baskets.
- </p>
- <p>
- That last appealed to me. Buchanan was just too big to cany hidden easily,
- but he might be drugged and covered up in a basket. I went back to the
- Astoria and sent for a vet. Also I bought a highly ornamental basket. The
- porter thought I was cruel. He thought I might leave the dog with him till
- after the war, but he translated the vet's opinion for me, and the vet
- gave me some sulphonal. He assured me the little dog would be all right,
- and I tried to put worrying thoughts away from me and to see Petrograd,
- the capital of the Tsars.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I had seen too much. There comes a moment, however keen you are on
- seeing the world, when you want to see no new thing, when you want only to
- close your eyes and rest, and I had arrived at that moment. The wide and
- busy streets intersected with canals, the broad expanse of the Neva, the
- cathedral and the Winter Palace were nothing to me; even the wrecked
- German Embassy did not stir me.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was glad then when the fourth morning found me on the Finland station.
- The Finland station was crowded and the Finland train, with only second
- and third class carnages and bound for Raumo, was crowded also, and it
- appeared it did not know its way very well as the line had only just been
- opened to meet the traffic west diverted from Germany. A fortnight before
- no one had ever heard of Raumo.
- </p>
- <p>
- And now for me the whole outlook was changed. This was no military train,
- packed as it was, but a train of men, women and children struggling to get
- out of the country, the flotsam and jetsam that come to the surface at the
- beginning of a war. And I heard again for the first time since I left
- Tientsin, worlds away, English spoken that was not addressed to me. To be
- sure it was English with an accent, the very peculiar accent that belongs
- to Russians, Lithuanians, Poles and Letts Americanised, and with it
- mingled the nasal tones of a young musician from Central Russia who spoke
- the language of his adopted land with a most exaggerated accent and the
- leisurely, cultivated tones of Oxford.
- </p>
- <p>
- I had come from the East to the West!
- </p>
- <p>
- The carriage was open from end to end and they would not allow Buchanan to
- enter it. He, poor little man, in the gorgeous basket that he objected to
- strongly, was banished to the luggage-van, and because the carriage was
- hot, and also because I felt he would be lonely separated from me, I went
- there and kept him company.
- </p>
- <p>
- And in that van I met another Russian naval officer and deepened my
- obligations to the Russian navy. He sat down beside me on one of the
- boxes, a tall, broad-shouldered, fair man who looked like a Viking with
- his moustache shaved off. I found to my joy he spoke English, and I
- confided to him my difficulties with regard to breakfast. I was so old a
- traveller by now I had learned the wisdom of considering carefully the
- commissariat. He was going to the forts on the Finnish border of which he
- was in command, but before he left the train we would arrive at a
- refreshment-room, and he undertook to arrange matters for me. And so he
- did.
- </p>
- <p>
- Petrograd does not get up early, at least the Hotel Astoria did not, and
- the most I could manage before I left was a cup of coffee, but I made up
- for it at that first refreshment-room. The naval officer took entire
- charge and, revelling in his importance, I not only had a very good
- breakfast but made the most of my chances and, filling up my basket with a
- view to future comforts, bought good things so that I might be able to
- exchange civilities with my fellow-passengers on the way to Raumo. I had
- eggs and sausages and new bread and scones and a plentiful supply of
- fruit, to say nothing of sugar and lemons and cream and meat for Buehanan—the
- naval man looking on smiling—and when I had really done myself well
- I turned to him and demanded what I ought to pay.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing, Madame. In Russia when a gentleman takes a lady for refreshment
- he pays!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Imagine my horror! And I had stocked my basket so lavishly!
- </p>
- <p>
- My protests were useless. I was escorted back to our luggage-van and my
- thoughts led gently from the coffee and eggs I had consumed and the
- sausages and bread I had stowed away in my basket to the state of the war
- as it struck the Russian naval mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- Had I heard about the sea fight in the Mediterranean? Not heard about the
- little <i>Gloucester</i> attacking the <i>Goeben</i>, the little <i>Gloucester</i>
- that the big German battleship could have eaten! A dwarf and a giant!
- Madame! Madame! It was a sea fight that will go down through the ages!
- Russia was ringing with it!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know anyone in the English navy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said I had two brothers in the senior service, a little later and I
- might have said three.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then tell them,” said he earnestly, “we Russian sailors are proud to be
- Allies of a nation that breeds such men as manned the <i>Gloucester!</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Finnish border was soon reached and he left us, and the day went on
- and discipline I suppose relaxed, for I brought Buchanan into the carriage
- and made friends with the people who surrounded me. And then once again
- did I bless the foresight of the Polish Jewess in Kharbin who had
- impressed upon me the necessity for two kettles. They were a godsend in
- that carriage. We commandeered glasses, we got hot water at wayside
- stations and I made tea for all within reach, and a cup of tea to a
- thirsty traveller, especially if that traveller be a woman, is certainly a
- road to that traveller's good graces.
- </p>
- <p>
- Finland is curiously different from Russia. They used to believe in the
- old sailing-ship days that every Finn was a magician. Whether they are
- magicians or not, they have a beautiful country, though its beauty is as
- different from that of the Amur as the Thames is from the Murray in
- far-away Australia. Gone were the wide spaces of the earth and the
- primitive peoples. We wandered through cultivated lands, we passed lake
- and river and woods, crossed a wonderful salmon river, skirted Finland's
- inland sea: here and there was a castle dominating the farmhouses and
- little towns, the trees were turning, just touched gently by Autumn's
- golden fingers, and I remembered I had watched the tender green of the
- spring awakening on the other side of the world, more, I had been
- travelling ever since. It made me feel weary—weary. And yet it was
- good to note the difference in these lands that I had journeyed over. The
- air here was clear, clear as it had been in China; it had that curious
- charm that is over scenery viewed through a looking-glass, a charm I can
- express in no other words. Unlike the great rivers of Russia, the little
- rivers brawled over the stones, companionable little streams that 'made
- you feel you might own them, on their banks spend a pleasant afternoon,
- returning to a cosy fire and a cheery home when the dusk was falling.
- </p>
- <p>
- And this evening, our first day out, we, the little company in my
- carriage, fell into trouble.
- </p>
- <p>
- We spoke among us many tongues, English, French, German, Polish, Russian,
- Lettish, and one whose tongue was polyglot thought in Yiddish and came
- from the streets, the “mean streets” of London, but not one amongst us
- spoke Finnish, the language of the magicians, or could even understand one
- word of it. This was unfortunate, for the Films either spoke no language
- but their own or had a grudge against us and declined to understand us.
- That didn't prevent them from turning us out that night in a railway
- station in the heart of Finland and leaving us to discover for ourselves
- that every hotel in the little town was full to overflowing! Once more I
- was faced with it—a night in a railway station. But my predicament
- was not so bad shared with others who spoke my language. There was the
- Oxford man and the musician with a twang, there was the wife of an
- American lawyer with her little boy and the wife of an American doctor
- with her little girls—they all spoke English of sorts, used it
- habitually—and there were four Austrian girls making their way back
- to some place in Hungary. Of course, technically, they were our enemies,
- while the Americans were neutral, but we all went in together. The
- Russian-American musician had been in Leipsic and was most disgustingly
- full of the mighty strength of Germany.
- </p>
- <p>
- The refreshment-rooms were shut, the whole place was in darkness, but it
- was a mild night, with a gorgeous September moon sailing out into the
- clear sky, and personally I should not have minded spreading my rugs and
- sleeping outside. I should have liked it, in fact, but the tales of the
- insecurity of Siberia still lingered in my consciousness, and when the
- Oxford man said that one of the porters would put us up in his house I
- gladly went along with all the others and, better still, took along my
- bundles of rugs and cushions.
- </p>
- <p>
- The places that I have slept in! That porter had a quaint little wooden
- house set in a garden and the whole place might have been lifted bodily
- out of Hans Andersen. We had the freedom of the kitchen, a very clean
- kitchen, and we made tea there and ate what we had brought in our baskets.
- The Austrian girls had a room to themselves, I lent my rugs to the young
- men and they made shift with them in the entrance porch, and the best
- sitting-room was turned over to the women and children and me. Two very
- small beds were put up very close together and into them got the two women
- and three children, and I was accommodated with a remarkably Lilliputian
- sofa. I am not a big woman, but it would not hold me, and as for Buchanan,
- he looked at me in disgust, said a bed was a proper place for a dog and
- promptly jumped on it. But it was full to overflowing of women and
- children sleeping the sleep of the utterly weary and he as promptly jumped
- off again and the next moment was sitting up in front of my sofa with his
- little front paws hanging down. He was a disgusted dog. He always begged
- when he wanted me to give him something, and now he begged to show me he
- was really in need of a bed. There were great uncurtained windows on two
- sides of that room, there were flowers and ferns in pots growing in it,
- and the full moon strcamed in and showed me everything: the crowded,
- rather gimcrack furniture, the bucket that contained water for us to wash
- in in the morning, the bed full of sleeping women and children and the
- little black and white dog sitting up in protest against what he
- considered the discomforts of the situation. What I found hard to bear
- were the hermetically sealed windows—the women had been afraid of
- draughts for the children—so as soon as that night wore through and
- daylight came stealing through the windows I dressed quietly and, stepping
- across the sleeping young men at the door, went outside with Buchanan to
- explore Finland.
- </p>
- <p>
- Our porter evidently ran some sort of tea gardens, for there were large
- swings set up, swings that would hold four and six people at once, and we
- tried them, much to Buchanan's discomfiture. We went for a walk up the
- street, a country town street of little wooden houses set in little
- gardens, and over all lay a Sabbath calm. It was Sunday, and the people
- slept, and the autumn sunlight made the whole place glorious. There is
- such rest and peace about the autumn: everything has been accomplished and
- now is the fullness of time. I never know which season I like best, each
- has its own beauty, but I shall always think of Finland as a land of
- little things, charming little things bathed in the autumn sunlight.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the whole party were awake we found some difficulty in getting
- something to eat. The porter could not supply us, and at the station,
- where they were vigorously sweeping—the Finns are very clean—they
- utterly declined to open the first-class refreshment-rooms. We could only
- get something to eat in the third-class. There was a great feeling of
- camaraderie and good-fellowship among us all, and here I remember the
- lawyer's wife insisted upon us all having breakfast at her expense, for
- according to her she owed us all something. It was she who added to our
- party the Yiddish woman, a fat, square little person hung round with
- innumerable bundles, carrying as she did a month's provisions, enough to
- last her across to America, for she was a very strict Jew and could eat
- nothing but <i>kosher</i> killed meat and <i>kosher</i> bread, whatever
- that may be. I know it made her a care, for a month's provisions make
- something of a parcel, and when bedding and a certain amount of clothing
- has to be carried as well, and no porters are available, the resulting
- baggage is apt to be a nuisance. All along the line this fat little person
- was liable to come into view, toiling under the weight of her many
- bundles. She would be found jammed in a doorway; she would subside
- exhausted in the middle of a railway platform—the majority of her
- bundles would be retrieved as they fell downstairs—or she blocked
- the little gateway through which passengers were admitted one by one, and
- the resulting bad language in all the tongues of Northern Europe probably
- caused the Recording Angel a good deal of unnecessary trouble. But the
- Oxford man and the musician were always ready to help her, and she must
- have blessed the day the American lawyer's wife added her to a party which
- had such kindly, helpful young men among its members.
- </p>
- <p>
- I found presently that the Oxford man and I were the moneyed members of
- the party, the only ones who were paying our way; the others, far richer
- people than I, I daresay, had been caught in the whirlpool of the war and
- were being passed on from one American consul to another, unable to get
- money from their own country. Apparently this was rather an unpleasant
- process, meaning a certain scarcity of cash, as an American consul
- naturally cannot afford to spend lavishly on his distressed subjects. It
- was the irony of fate that some of them were evidently not accustomed to
- looking too carefully after the pennies.
- </p>
- <p>
- It took us two days to cross Finland, and towards the end of the journey,
- after we had got out to have tea at a wayside station that blossomed out
- into ham and tea and bread and honey, we made friends with a certain Finn
- whose father had been a Scotsman. At last we were able to communicate with
- the people of the country! Also I'm afraid we told him in no measured
- terms that we did not think much of his compatriots. That was rather a
- shame, for he was exceedingly kind. He was going to England, he told us,
- to buy sheepskins for the Russian army, and he took great interest in my
- trouble about Buchanan. He examined him carefully, came to the conclusion
- he was a perfectly healthy little dog and suggested I should lend him to
- him till we reached Sweden, as he was perfectly well known to the
- authorities, and Finnish dogs would be allowed to enter Sweden, while a
- dog that had come from Russia would certainly be barred. I loved that man
- for his kindly interest and I handed over Buchanan in his basket without a
- qualm.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were really quite a goodly company when in the dusk of the evening we
- steamed into Raumo. The station seemed deserted, but we didn't worry much
- about that, as our new Finnish friend suggested the best thing to do was
- to go straight down to the steamer, the <i>Uleaborg</i>, a Finnish ship,
- and have our dinner and spend the night there. Even if she did not go that
- night, and he did not think she would, we could rest and sleep
- comfortably. We all agreed, and as the train went on down to the wharf we
- appointed him our delegate to go on board and see what arrangements he
- could make for us. The minute the train stopped, off he went, and Buchanan
- went with him. I was getting easier in my mind about Buchanan now, the
- thought of drugging him had been spoiling my pleasure in the scenery. And
- then we waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- It began to rain, and through the mist which hid the moonlight to-night we
- could see the loom of the ships; they were all white and the lights from
- the cabin ports showed dim through the misty rain. The wharf was littered
- with goods, barrels and bales, and as there was more than one steamer, and
- apparently no one to guide us, or the Scots Finn had not returned, we
- tackled the Russian <i>gens d'arme</i> who seemed to be in charge of the
- wharf and who was leaning up against the train.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can you speak Finnish?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah! now you have my secret first shot,” said he, with a smile. He, their
- guardian, was no more equal to communicating with these people than we
- were. And then, to our dismay, before our messenger could return, the
- train which considered not a parcel of refugees put on steam and started
- back to Raumo!
- </p>
- <p>
- A dozen voices were raised in frantic protest, but we might as well have
- spared our breath, the train naturally paid no attention to us, but went
- back at full speed to the town proper. It was a comfort when it stopped,
- for, for all we knew, it might have gone straight back to Petrograd
- itself. And Buchanan, shut up in a basket, was left behind, I knew not
- where! They dumped us on that station, bag and baggage, in the rain. We
- were worse off here than we were at the wharf, for there the steamer and
- comfort at least loomed in the distance. Here was only a bare and empty
- station, half-a-dozen men who looked at us as if we were so many wild
- beasts on show, and a telephone to the wharf which we were allowed to use
- as long as we pleased, but as far as I could gather the only result was a
- flow of bad language in many tongues. We might be of many nations, but one
- and all were we agreed in our dislike of the Finns and all things Finnish.
- If I remember rightly, in the Middle Ages, most people feared and disliked
- magicians.
- </p>
- <p>
- We managed to get our baggage into the hall of the station, whieh was
- dimly lighted by electric lights, and in anticipation of our coming they
- had filled up the station water-carafes. But that was all the provision
- they had made. If there was a refreshment-room it had been locked up long
- ago, and as far as we could make out, now our interpreter had gone, there
- were no hotels or boarding-houses. Our Scots Finn had said it was
- impossible to stay in Raumo. We looked at one another in a dismay in which
- there was, after all, something comic. This that had befallen us was the
- sort of aggravating thing a mischievous magician would cause to happen. We
- were tired and hungry and bad-tempered, and I for one was anxious about my
- little dog and I began to seek, with cash in my hand, somebody who would
- find me Buchanan.
- </p>
- <p>
- How I made my wants known I don't now realise, but money does wonders, and
- presently there came in a man bearing his basket and a rapturous little
- dog was let out into the room. Where he had been I have not the faintest
- idea, and I could not ask, only I gathered that the man who brought him
- professed himself perfectly willing to go on fetching little dogs all
- night at the same rate, and the musician remarked in his high nasal twang
- that he supposed it was no good expecting any more sympathy from Mrs
- Gaunt, she was content now she had her little dog. As a matter of fact,
- now that my mind was at ease, I was equal to giving my attention to other
- people's woes.
- </p>
- <p>
- We tackled the men round us.
- </p>
- <p>
- Where was our messenger?
- </p>
- <p>
- No one knew.
- </p>
- <p>
- Where could we get something to eat?
- </p>
- <p>
- Blank stare. They were not accustomed to foreigners yet at Raumo. The
- station had only just been opened. The musician took out his violin and
- its wailing tones went echoing and re-echoing through the hall. The
- audience looked as if they thought we had suddenly gone mad, and one man
- came forward and by signs told us we must leave the station. That was all
- very well, we were not enamoured of the station, but the port we judged to
- be at least four miles off, and no one was prepared to start down an
- unknown road in the dark and pouring rain. There was a long consultation,
- and we hoped it meant food, but it didn't. Out of a wilderness of words we
- at last arrived at the interesting fact that if we cared to subscribe five
- marks one of these gentlemen was prepared to conduct us to the police
- station. There appeared to be no wild desire on the part of any of us to
- go to the police station, the violin let out a screech of scornful
- derision, and one of the officials promptly turned off the electric lights
- and left us in darkness!
- </p>
- <p>
- There were many of us, and vexations shared are amusing. We laughed, how
- we laughed, and the violin went wailing up and down the octaves. No wonder
- the Finns looked at us askance. Even the darkness did not turn us out, for
- we had nowhere else to go, and finally a man who spoke English turned up,
- the agent for the Swedish steamer. He had thought there would be no
- passengers and had gone to bed, to be roused up, I presume by the
- stationmaster, as the only person likely to be capable of dealing with
- these troublesome people who were disturbing the peace of this Finnish
- village.
- </p>
- <p>
- We flew at him—there were about a dozen of us—and showed our
- tickets for the Finnish steamer, and he smiled in a superior manner and
- said we should be captured by Germans.
- </p>
- <p>
- We didn't believe much in the Germans, for we had many of us come through
- a country which certainly believed itself invulnerable. Then a woman
- travelling with her two daughters, Americans of the Americans, though
- their mother spoke English with a most extraordinary accent, proclaimed
- aloud that if there was a Swedish steamer she was going by it as she was
- afraid of “dose Yarmans.” She and her daughters would give up their
- tickets and go by the Swedish steamer. Protest was useless. If we liked to
- break up the party we could. She was not going by the <i>Uleaborg</i>.
- Besides, where were we to sleep that night? The Finnish steamer was three
- or four miles away down at the wharf and we were here along with the
- Swedish agent.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Swedish agent seized the opening thus given. There were no hotels;
- there were no boarding-houses; no, it was not possible to get anything to
- eat at that hour of the night. Something to drink? Well, in surprised
- tones, there was surely plenty of water in the station—there was—and
- he would arrange for a train for us to sleep in. The train at ten o'clock
- next morning would take us down to the steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- We retired to that train. Only one of the carriages was lighted, and that
- by general consent we gave up to the lady whose fear of the Germans had
- settled our affairs for us, and she in return asked us to share what
- provisions we had left. We pooled our stores—I don't think I had
- anything left, but the others shared with me—and we dined, not
- unsatisfactorily, off sardines, black bread, sausages and apples. The only
- person left out of the universal friendliness was the Yiddish lady. Out of
- her plenty she did not offer to share.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She cannot,” said the musician. “She is saving for the voyage to America.
- You see, she can eat none of the shipboard food.” He too came of the same
- strict order of Jew, and his grandparents, with whom he had been staying
- in Little Russia, had provided him with any amount of sausage made of <i>kosher</i>
- meat, but when he was away from his own people he was evidently anything
- but strict and ate what pleased him. He shared with the rest of us.
- Possibly he was right about the Yiddish woman, and I suppose it did not
- really do us any harm to go short till next morning, but it looked very
- greedy, and I still wonder at the nerve of a woman who could sit down and
- eat sausage and bread and all manner of such-like things while within a
- stone's-throw of her people who had helped her in every way they could
- were cutting up apples and pears into quarters and audibly wishing they
- had a little more bread. The Oxford man and musician had always helped
- her, but she could not find it in her heart to spare them one crumb. I
- admire her nerve. In America I doubt not she will acquire wealth.
- </p>
- <p>
- After supper Buchanan and I retired to a dark carriage, wrapped ourselves
- in my eiderdown and slept till with break of day two capable but plain
- Finnish damsels came in to clean the train. I think the sailors' ideas
- must have been wrong: every Finn cannot be a magician else they would not
- allow all their women to be so plain. I arose and dressed and prepared to
- go out and see if Raumo could produce coffee and rolls, but as I was
- starting the violinist in the next compartment protested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wouldn't. Guess you haven't got the hang of these Finnish trains. It
- might take it into its head to go on. Can't you wait till we reach the
- steamer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I gave the matter my consideration, and while I was considering the train
- did take it into its head to go on four hours before its appointed time.
- On it went, and at last in the fresh northern dewy morning, with the sun
- just newly risen, sending his long low rays streaming across the dancing
- waters of the bay, we steamed up to the wharf, and there lay the white
- ships that were bound for Sweden, the other side of the Baltic.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVII—CAPTURED BY GERMANS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ut we couldn't get
- on the steamer at once. For some reason or other there were Customs delays
- and everything we possessed had to be examined before we were allowed to
- leave the country, but—and we hailed them with delight—under
- the goods sheds were set out little tables where we could buy coffee and
- rolls and butter and eggs. It was autumn now, and for all the sunshine
- here in such high latitudes there was a nip in the air and the hot coffee
- was welcome. We met, too, our friend of the night before, the Scots Finn,
- but the glamour had departed from him and we paid no attention to his
- suggestion that the <i>Goathied</i>, the Swedish steamer, was very much
- smaller than the <i>Uleaborg</i> and that there was a wind getting up and
- we would all be deadly sick. We said we preferred being sick to being
- captured by the Germans. And he laughed at us. There was no need to fear
- the Germans in the Baltic so far north.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was midday before we were allowed on board the little white ship, but
- still she lingered. I was weary, weary, even the waiting seemed a
- weariness so anxious was I to end my long journeying and get home. And
- then suddenly I felt very near it, for my ears were greeted by the good
- broad Doric of Scotland, and there came trooping on board five and fifty
- men, part of the crews of four English ships that had been caught by the
- tide of war and laid up at Petrograd and Kronstadt. An opportunity had
- been found and they were going back by way of Sweden, leaving their ships
- behind till after the war. We did not think the war <i>could</i> last very
- long on board that steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Scotsmen had evidently been expected, for on the deck in the bows of
- the little steamer—she was only about three hundred tons—were
- laid long tables spread with ample supplies of boiled sausages, suet
- pudding and potatoes, and very appetising it looked, though in all my
- wanderings I had never met boiled sausages before. Down to the feast sat
- the sailor-men, and our Yiddish friend voiced aloud my feelings.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Anglisky,” said she unexpectedly, “nice Anglisky boys. Guten appetite,
- nice Anglisky boys!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were very cheery, poor boys, and though they were not accustomed to
- her sort in Leith, they received her remarks with appreciative grins.
- </p>
- <p>
- As we started the captain came down upon me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who does that dog belong to?” he asked angrily. Everyone on board spoke
- English. And before I could answer—I wasn't particularly anxious to
- answer—he added: “He can't be landed in Sweden.”
- </p>
- <p>
- My heart sank. What would they do to my poor little dog? I was determined
- they shouldn't harm him unless they harmed me first, and if he had to go
- back to Russia—well, I would go too; but the thought of going back
- made me very miserable, and I made solemn vows to myself that if I by some
- miracle got through safely, never, never again would I travel with a dog.
- </p>
- <p>
- And while I was thinking about it there came along a junior officer, mate,
- purser, he might have been the cook for all I know, and he said: “If you
- have bought this dog in Finland, or even on board the steamer, he can
- land.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was light in darkness, and I do not mind stating that where my dog is
- concerned I have absolutely no morals, if it is to save him from pain. He
- had been my close companion for over a year and I knew he was perfectly
- healthy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will give you a good price for him,” said I. “He is a pretty little
- dog.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait,” he said, “wait. By and by I see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Just as we got out of the bay the captain announced that he was not going
- to Stockholm at all, but to Gefle, farther north. Why, he did not know.
- Such were his orders. In ordinary times to find yourself being landed at
- Liverpool, say, when you had booked for London might be upsetting, but in
- war time it is all in the day's work, and sailors and crowded passengers
- only laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let's awa',” said the sailors. “Let's awa'.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The air was clear and clean, clean as if every speck of dust had been
- washed away by the rain of the preceding night; the little islands at the
- mouth of the bay stood out green and fresh in the blue sea, but the head
- wind broke it up into little waves, and the ship was empty of cargo and
- tossed about like a cork. The blue sea and snow-white clouds, the sunlight
- on the dancing waves mattered not to us; all we wanted, those of us who
- were not in favour of drowning at once and so ending our misery, was to
- land in Sweden. Buchanan sat up looking at me reproachfully, then he too
- subsided and was violently sick, and I watched the passengers go one by
- one below to hide their misery, even those who had vowed they never were
- sea-sick. I stayed on deck because I felt I was happier there in the fresh
- air, and so I watched the sunset. It was a gorgeous sunset; the clouds
- piled themselves one upon the other and the red sun stained them deepest
- crimson. It was so striking that I forgot my sea-sick qualms.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then suddenly I became aware there were more ships upon the sea than
- ours, one in particular, a black, low-lying craft, was steaming all round
- us, sending out defiant hoots. There were three other ships farther off,
- and I went to the rail to look over the darkening sea.
- </p>
- <p>
- Between us and the sunset was the low-lying craft, so close I could see
- the gaiters of a man in uniform who stood on a platform a little higher
- than his fellows; the little decks were crowded with men and a long gun
- was pointed at us. It was all black, clean-cut, silhouetted against the
- crimson sunset.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were slowed down, barely moving, the waves slop-slopped against our
- sides, and the passengers came scrambling up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Germans! Yarmans!” they cried, and from the torpedo boat came a voice
- through a megaphone.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you doing with all those fine young men on board?” it asked in
- excellent English, the language of the sea.
- </p>
- <p>
- The black torpedo boat was lying up against us.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sea-sickness was forgotten, and the violinist came to me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They are going to take the young men,” he said, and he was sorry and yet
- pleased, because all the time he had been full of the might of the
- Germans.
- </p>
- <p>
- I thought of the Oxford man in the very prime of his manhood.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you told him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess I didn't dare,” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I think you'd better, or I'll go myself. They are going to search
- the ship and he won't like being taken unawares.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So he went down, and presently they came up together. The Oxford man had
- been very sea-sick and he thought all the row was caused by the ship
- having struck a mine, and he felt so ill that if things were to end that
- way he was accepting it calmly, but being captured by Germans was a
- different matter. He was the only Englishman in the first class, and when
- we heard they were coming for the young men we felt sure he would have to
- go.
- </p>
- <p>
- Leaning over the rail of the <i>Goathied</i>, we could look down upon the
- black decks of the torpedo boat, blacker than ever now in the dusk of the
- evening, for the sun sank and the darkness was coming quickly. A rope
- ladder was flung over and up came a couple of German officers. They spoke
- perfect English, and they talked English all the time. They went below,
- demanded the passenger list and studied it carefully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We must take those Englishmen,” said the leader, and then he went through
- every cabin to see that none was concealed.
- </p>
- <p>
- The captain made remonstrance, as much remonstrance as an unarmed man can
- make with three cruisers looking on and a torpedo boat close alongside.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is war,” said the German curtly, and in the dusk he ranged the
- sailor-men along the decks, all fifty-five of them, and picked out those
- between the ages of nineteen and forty. Indeed one luckless lad of
- seventeen was taken, but he was a strapping fellow and they said if he was
- not twenty-one he looked it.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was tragic. Of course there must have been treachery at work or how
- should the German squadron have known that the Englishmen were crossing at
- this very hour? But a few moments before they had been counting on getting
- home and now they were bound for a German prison! In the gathering
- darkness they stood on the decks, and the short, choppy sea beat the iron
- torpedo boat against the ship's side, and the captain in the light from a
- lantern hung against the little house looked the picture of despair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She cannot stand it! She cannot stand it much longer!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crash! Crash! Crash!
- </p>
- <p>
- “She cannot stand it! She was never built for it! And she is old now!”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the German paid no attention. The possible destruction of a passenger
- ship was as nothing weighed in the balance with the acquirement of six and
- thirty fighting men.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were so quiet. They handed letters and small bundles and sometimes
- some of their pay to their comrades or to the passengers looking on and
- they dropped down that ladder. No one but a sailor could have gone down,
- for the ships heaved up and down, and sometimes they were bumping and
- sometimes there was a wide belt of heaving dark water between them,
- bridged only by that frail ladder. One by one they went, landing on the
- hostile deck, and were greeted with what were manifestly jeers at their
- misfortune. The getting down was difficult and more than once a bundle was
- dropped into the sea and there went up a sigh that was like a wail, for
- the passengers looking on thought the man was gone, and I do not think
- there would have been any hope for him between the ships.
- </p>
- <p>
- Darker and darker it grew. On the <i>Goathied</i> there were the lighted
- decks, but below on the torpedo boat the men were dim figures, German and
- English undiscernible in the gloom. On the horizon loomed the sombre bulk
- of the cruisers, eaeh with a bright light aloft, and all around was the
- heaving sea, the white tops of the choppy waves showing sinister against
- the darker hollows.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Anglisky boys! Anglisky boys!” wailed the Yiddish woman, and her voice
- cut into the waiting silence. It was their dirge, the dirge for the long,
- long months of imprisonment that lay before them. And we were hoping for a
- short war! I could hear the Oxford man drawing a long breath occasionally,
- steeling himself against the moment when his turn would come.
- </p>
- <p>
- It never came. Why, I do not know. Perhaps they did not realise his
- nationality, for being a Scotsman he had entered himself as “British” on
- the passenger list, and “British” was not such a well-known word as the
- sons of Britain gathering from all corners of the earth to fight the
- common foe have made it to-day.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Puir chappies! Puir chappies! A'm losin' guid comrades,” sighed an
- elderly man leaning over the side and shouting a farewell to “Andra'.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I murmured something about “after the war,” but he cut me short sternly.
- The general opinion was that they would be put to stoke German warships
- and as the British were sure to beat them they would go down and be
- ingloriously lost. The thought must have been a bitter one to the men on
- that torpedo boat. And they took it like heroes.
- </p>
- <p>
- The last man was gone, and as the torpedo boat drew away a sort of moan
- went up from the bereft passenger ship and we went on our way, the captain
- relieved that we were free before a hole had been knocked in our side.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was so thankful that no worse thing had befallen him that he became
- quite communicative.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They are gone to take the <i>Uleaborg</i>,” he said, “and they will blow
- her up and before to-morrow morning Raumo will be in flames!”
- </p>
- <p>
- In those days Sweden had great faith in the might of Germany. I hope that
- faith is getting a little shaken at last. Still that captain declared his
- intention of warning all the ships he could. There were two Finnish ships
- of which he knew that he said were coming out of Stockholm that night and
- he was going to look for them and warn them.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the night was alive with brilliant electric light signals and wild
- hootings from the steam siren, and he found them at last, all honour to
- him for a kindly sailor-man, and the Finnish ships were warned and went
- back to Sweden.
- </p>
- <p>
- But no matter how sorry one is for the sufferings of others, the feeling
- does not in any way tend to lessen one's own private woes. Rather are they
- deepened because sympathy and help is not so easily come by when men's
- thoughts are occupied by more—to them more—important matters.
- And so I could not go to sleep because of my anxiety about my little dog.
- Only for the moment did the taking of the men and my pity for them drive
- the thought of his predicament from my mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were nearing Sweden, every moment was bringing us closer, and as yet I
- had made no arrangements for his safety. He lay curled up on the seat,
- hiding his little snub nose and his little white paws with his bushy tail,
- for the autumn night was chilly, and I lay fearing a prison for him too,
- when he would think his mistress whom he had trusted had failed him. All
- the crew were so excited over the kidnapping of the men that my meditated
- nefarious transaction was thrust into the background. It was hopeless to
- think that any one of them would give ear to the woes of a little dog, so
- at last, very reluctantly, I gave him, much to his surprise, a sulphonal
- tablet. I dozed a little and when by my watch it was four o'clock Buchanan
- was as lively as a cricket. Sulphonal did not seem to have affected him in
- any way. I gave him another, and he said it was extremely nasty and he was
- surprised at my conduct, but otherwise it made no difference to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the grey of the early morning we drew up to the wharf and were told to
- get all our belongings on to the lower deck for the Customs to examine
- them, and Buchanan was as cheerful and as wide awake as if he had not
- swallowed two sulphonal tablets. With a sinking heart I gave him another,
- put him in his basket and, carrying it down to the appointed place, threw
- a rug over it and piled my two suit-cases on top of it. How thankful I was
- there was such a noisy crowd, going over and over again in many tongues
- the events of the night. They wrangled too about their luggage and about
- their places, and above all their din I could hear poor little James
- Buchanan whining and whimpering and asking why his mistress was treating
- him so badly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then came the Customs officer and my heart stood still. He poked an
- investigatory hand into my suit-case and asked me—I understood him
- quite well—to show him what was underneath. I could hear Buchanan if
- he could not, and I pretended that I thought he wanted to know what was at
- the bottom of my suit-case and I turned over the things again and again.
- He grew impatient, but luckily so did all the people round, and as a woman
- dragged him away by force to look at her things so that she could get them
- ashore I noticed with immense relief that the sailors were beginning to
- take the things to the wharf. Luckily I had taken care the night before to
- get some Swedish money—I was taking no chances—and a little
- palm oil made that sailor prompt to attend to my wants. Blessings on the
- confusion that reigned around! Two minutes later on Swedish soil I was
- piling my gear on a little hand-cart with a lot of luggage belonging to
- the people with whom I had come across Finland and it was bound to the
- railway station.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have left your umbrella,” cried the violinist.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't care,” said I. I had lost my only remaining hat for that matter,
- goodness knows what had become of it, but I was not going to put myself
- within range of those Customs men again. What did I care about
- appearances! I had passed the very worst milestone on my journey when I
- got James Buchanan into Sweden; I had awakened from the nightmare that had
- haunted me ever since I had taken my ticket in Petrograd, and I breathed
- freely.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the railway station we left our luggage, but I got Buchanan's basket,
- and we all went across the road to a restaurant just waking to business,
- for we badly wanted breakfast. I loved those passengers. I shall always
- think of them with gratitude. They were all so kind and sympathetic and
- the restaurant folks, who were full of the seizing of the Englishmen on a
- Swedish ship—so are joys and sorrows mingled—must have thought
- we were a little mad when we all stood round and, before ordering
- breakfast, opened a basket and let out a pretty little black and white
- dog.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then I'm sorry to say we laughed, even I laughed, laughed with relief,
- though I there and then took a vow never again to drug a dog, for poor
- little James Buchanan was drunk. He wobbled as he walked, and he could not
- make up his mind to lie down like a sensible dog and sleep if off; he was
- conversational and silly and had to be restrained. Poor little James
- Buchanan! But he was a Swedish dog, and I ate my breakfast with appetite,
- and we all speculated as to what had become of the Scots Finn who had
- failed me.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gefle reminded me of Hans Andersen even more than Finland had done. It had
- neat streets and neat houses and neat trees and neat and fair-haired
- women, and Gefle was seething with excitement because the <i>Goathied</i>
- had been stopped. It was early days then, and Sweden had not become
- accustomed to the filibustering ways of the German, so every poster had
- the tale writ large upon it, in every place they were talking about it,
- and we, the passengers who walked about the streets, were the observed of
- all observers.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was nearing the end of my long journey, very near now, and it did not
- seem to me to matter much what I did. We were all—the new friends I
- had made on the way from Petrograd—pretty untidy and travel-stained,
- and if I wore a lace veil on my hair, the violinist had a huge rent in his
- shoe, and, having no money to buy more, he went into a shoe-shop and had
- it mended. I, with Buchanan a little recovered, sat beside him while it
- was done.
- </p>
- <p>
- And in the afternoon we went by train through the neat and tidy country,
- Selma Lagerlof's country, to Stockholm. I felt as if I were resting,
- rested, because I was anxious no longer about Buchanan, who slumbered
- peacefully on my knee; and if anybody thinks I am making an absurd fuss
- about a little dog, let them remember he had been my faithful companion
- and friend in far corners of the earth when there were none but alien
- faces around me, and had stood many a time between me and utter loneliness
- and depression.
- </p>
- <p>
- We discussed these sturdy Swedes. The Chicago woman's daughter, with the
- pertness and aptness of the American flapper, summed them up quickly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The men are handsome,” she said, looking round, “but the women—well,
- the women lack something—I call them tame.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And I knew she had hit them off to a “T.” After that I never looked at a
- neat and tidy Swedish woman with her hair, that was fair without that
- touch of red that makes for gold—gives life—coiled at the back
- of her head and her mild eyes looking out placidly on the world around her
- without feeling that I too call her tame.
- </p>
- <p>
- Stockholm for the most of us was the parting of the ways. The American
- consul took charge of the people who had come across Finland with us and
- the Oxford man and I alone went to the Continental Hotel, which, I
- believe, is the best hotel in that city. We had an evening meal together
- in a room that reminded me very much of the sort of places we used to call
- coffee palaces in Melbourne when I was a girl, and I met here again for
- the first time for many a long day tea served in cups with milk and cream.
- It was excellent, and I felt I was indeed nearing home. Things were
- getting commonplace and the adventure was going out of life. But I was
- tired and I didn't want adventure any more. There comes a time when we
- have a surfeit of it.
- </p>
- <p>
- I remember my sister once writing from her home somewhere in the Malay
- jungle that her husband was away and it was awkward because every night a
- leopard came and took up his position under the house, and though she
- believed he was only after the fowls she didn't like it because of the
- children. If ever she complains that she hasn't had enough adventure in
- her life I remind her of that and she says that is not the sort of
- adventure she has craved. That is always the way. The adventure is not
- always in the form we want. I seemed to have had plenty, but I was weary.
- I wanted to sit in a comfortable English garden in the autumn sunshine and
- forget that such things as trains and ships—perish the thought of a
- mule litter—existed. I counted the hours. It couldn't be long now.
- We came down into the hall to find that I had been entered on the board
- containing the names of the hotel guests as the Oxford man's wife. Poor
- young man! It was a little rough on him, for I hadn't even a hat, and I
- felt I looked dilapidated.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was too. That night in the sleeper crossing to Christiania the woman who
- had the bottom berth spoke excellent English. She was going to some baths
- and she gave some advice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are very ill, Madame,” said she, “very ill.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said no, I was only a little tired.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think,” she went on, “you are very ill, and if you are wise when you
- get to Christiania you will go to the Hotel Victoria and go to bed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I was horrified. Because I felt I must go to England as quickly as
- possible, and I said so.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The train does not go to Bergen till night,” said she. “Stay in bed all
- day.” And then as we crossed the border a Customs officer came into the
- carriage. Now I could easily have hidden Buchanan, but I thought as a
- Swedish dog all his troubles were over, and he sat up there looking pertly
- at the uniformed man and saying “What are you doing here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you got a certificate of health for that dog?” asked the man
- sternly.
- </p>
- <p>
- I said “No,” remembering how very carefully I had kept him out of the way
- of anybody likely to be interested in his health.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then,” said he, “you must telegraph to the police at Christiania. They
- will meet you and take him to a veterinary surgeon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And after?” I asked, trembling, my Swedish friend translating.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If his health is good they give him back to you. You take a room at a
- hotel and if his health is good he will be allowed to skip about the
- streets.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I felt pretty sure he would be allowed to skip about the streets and I
- took a room at the Victoria, the Oxford man kindly seeing us through—they
- put us down as Mr and Mrs Gaunt here—and James Buchanan, who had
- been taken possession of by the police at the station, came back to me,
- accompanied by a Norwegian policeman who demanded five shillings and gave
- me a certificate that he was a perfectly healthy little dog.
- </p>
- <p>
- I want to go back to Norway when I am not tired and fed up with
- travelling, for Christiania struck me as a dear little home-like town that
- one could love; and the railway journey across the Dovrefield and even the
- breakfast baskets that came in in the early morning were things to be
- remembered. I saw snow up in those mountains, whether the first snow of
- the coming winter or snow left over from the winter before, I do not know,
- but the views were lovely, and I asked myself why I went wandering in
- far-away places when there were places like this so close at home and so
- easily reached. So near home. We were so near home. I could think of
- nothing else. I told Buchanan about it and he licked my hand
- sympathetically and told me always to remember that wherever I was was
- good enough for him. And then we arrived at Bergen, a little wooden city
- set at the head of a fiord among the hills, and we went on board the <i>Haakon
- VII.</i>, bound for Newcastle-on-Tyne.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then the most memorable thing happened, the most memorable thing in
- what for me was a wondrous journey. All across the Old World we had come,
- almost from the very farthest corner of the Old World, a wonderful journey
- not to be lightly undertaken nor soon forgotten. And yet as I went on
- board that ship I felt what a very little thing it was. I have been
- feeling it ever since. A Norwegian who spoke good English was there, going
- back to London, and, talking to another man, he mentioned in a casual
- manner something about the English contingent that had landed on the
- Continent.
- </p>
- <p>
- It startled me. Not in my lifetime, nor in the lifetime of my father,
- indeed I think my grandfathers must have been very little boys when the
- last English troops landed in France.
- </p>
- <p>
- “English troops!” I cried in astonishment.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Norwegian turned to me, smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” he said. “But of course they are only evidence of good will. Their
- use is negligible!”
- </p>
- <p>
- And I agreed. I actually agreed. Britain's rôle, it seemed to me, was on
- the sea!
- </p>
- <p>
- And in four years I have seen Britain grow into a mighty military power. I
- have seen the men of my own people come crowding across the ocean to help
- the Motherland; I have seen my sister's young son pleased to be a soldier
- in that army, just one of the proud and humble crowd that go to uphold
- Britain's might. And all this has grown since I stood there at the head of
- the Norwegian fiord with the western sun sparkling on the little wavelets
- and heard a friendly foreigner talk about the little army that was
- “negligible.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I was tired. I envied those who could work and exert themselves, but I
- could do nothing. If the future of the nation had depended on me I could
- have done nothing. I was coming back to strenuous times and I longed for
- rest. I wanted a house of my own; I wanted a seat in the garden; I wanted
- to see the flowers grow, to listen to the birds singing in the trees. All
- that our men are fighting for to keep sacred and safe, I longed for.
- </p>
- <p>
- And I have had it, thanks to those fighting men who have sacrificed
- themselves for me, I have had it. It is good to sit in the garden where
- the faithful little friend I shall never forget has his last
- resting-place; it is good to see the roses grow, to listen to the lark and
- the cuckoo and the thrush; but there is something in our race that cannot
- keep still for long, the something, I suppose, that sent my grandfather to
- the sea, my father to Australia, and scattered his sons and daughters all
- over the world. I had a letter from a soldier brother the other day. The
- war holds him, of course, but nevertheless he wrote, quoting:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent10">
- “Salt with desire of travel
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Are my lips; and the wind's wild singing
- </p>
- <p class="indent10">
- Lifts my heart to the ocean
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And the sight of the great ships swinging.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- And my heart echoed: “And I too! And I too!”
- </p>
- <div style="height: 6em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
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