We eagerly inquired as to the prospects of being allowed to go eastwards,
and were informed that the robbers were most aggressive and had taken
prisoners three missionaries, besides securing much loot from other
quarters. I confess my spirits sank low that night, despite our having
got a much-longed-for mail, and it was with some misgivings we set off
to the British Consulate next morning. The postal commissioner, a portly
Frenchman, had told us that he didn’t consider it at all dangerous to go
eastward, but it was true that he had ceased to send money orders, owing
to the number of robbers! He could transmit no money for us, but promised
to see what could be done in the matter through merchants.
We found that the British Consul, Mr. Otterwell, remembered me as an old
traveller. I had been his guest at Tengyueh twelve years before, though
he was at the time absent in the district. He was quite encouraging, and
promised at once to have our passports visé-ed and a military escort
obtained for the following week. Our further doings in Yünnan Province
are chronicled in Chapter III. Suffice it to say that from Yünnanfu
we set off in carrying-chairs, and travelled north-eastward into the
province of Kweichow—a wild and beautiful mountainous country, far from
railways and steamboats and all the busy bustle of the West. There we
were to make friends with strange aboriginal tribes in their native
haunts and to see unadulterated China once more.
Kweichow (the Land of Demons) surpassed our most sanguine hopes. It was
far more beautiful and interesting than we had been told, and not nearly
so difficult to travel in as I had been led to expect. We had provided
ourselves with tinned meats, as we were told that we could expect to get
no meat or chickens or vegetables in so poor a province, whereas we found
all these things in abundance, and every mission station to which we came
most hospitable in supplying us with bread and cakes. It is true we only
came to five stations in the next seven weeks, that is in crossing the
whole province. There is no road in any part of it—sixty thousand square
miles, roughly speaking—suitable for wheeled traffic; so no wonder it
must be considered as one of the most backward parts of China, and has
rarely been visited by travellers. To carry a load of rice for a hundred
miles more than doubles its cost.
[Illustration: A Chinese Ritz.
_Page 40_]
From Yünnanfu we took the ordinary route via Malong, Kütsingfu, and the
Yünnan Pass into Kweichow Province. It has been admirably and fully
described in Sir A. Hosie’s latest book _On the Trail of the Opium
Poppy_, so it is unnecessary for me to do it, and I shall merely describe
the things which struck us as of special interest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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