Part 25 (2/2)

This treacly substance is then put into earthenware jars of the shape of a pyramid with a slight perforation at the apex and turned upside down and allowed to drain. The sugar at the broader end is covered with a layer of damp mud from the river, and the moisture from it is allowed to soak through the ma.s.s. The result is the whole becomes refined, and there remains, after a certain time has been allowed for the process to work, a light-coloured specimen of soft brown sugar.

A further stage is reached by boiling the brown sugar in huge iron pans and pouring the liquid into coa.r.s.e jars, the whole of whose interiors have been threaded backward and forward with coa.r.s.e string. By the wonderful alchemy of nature these have the power of crystallizing the boiling liquid, and the result is a brown sugar candy, that whilst it is wanting in the golden hue and the delicate fascinations of the English article, it is just as toothsome and a great deal less expensive; for a catty (1-1/3 lb.) of the very best can be purchased in any of the shops that deal in such articles for about three pence halfpenny.

We leave the sugar factory, and proceed up the river, but as the sun has gone down beyond the mountains, and the shadows fall thickly upon the darkening waters, the captain chooses a place where he will anchor for the night. Just ahead of us there are a number of junks that have already lowered their sails and let down their anchors, and towards them our boat is steered. In a few minutes we too have joined company with them, and form part of the little fleet that will safely defy any attempt of river thieves to molest us.

The scene on the river is just now a very pleasing one. Boats of various sizes and descriptions are making vigorous efforts to reach their destination at villages on the river. The glory of the setting sun that tipped the mountains in the near distance is gradually dying out, and the deep shadows settle on their sides, making them look grand and gloomy. The crows that have wandered far during the day in search of food, warned by the waning light, are hurrying in flocks up the river and from across the plain in the direction of the great tree upon which they are accustomed to roost during the night. The sounds of human voices from the boats anch.o.r.ed near us come to us with a pleasant sense of companions.h.i.+p as the night deepens on the river. The laughter at some side-splitting joke, the noisy discussion of some disputed point--for the Chinese never can talk in a low voice--the voice of some mother hus.h.i.+ng her little one to sleep, all fill the air with a music of its own, and seem to be a pleasant ending to the events of the day. A spice of mystery, too, is added, for some of the crows that have been abroad, heedless of time, have delayed their return till darkness has almost settled on the land. Attracted by the lights of the boats they fly close over our heads so that we can hear the whirr of their wings, and then with a rush like an arrow from a bow they dash with the speed of lightning into the night and are gone, leaving an uncanny feeling in our minds, as though we had been visited by spirits from the vasty deep.

Supper ended, the Chinese sit for a short time smoking their pipes and chatting indifferently upon any subject that may turn up, but before long the captain takes a look at the sky to see what weather may be expected.

He then examines his cable to see whether the anchor is holding or not, and having satisfied himself that there is no danger of his boat drifting during the night, he utters the welcome order, ”Now let us sleep,” and in a few minutes the crew are in the land of dreams, from which they will not return until the dawn with its silent touch brings them back once more to a busy working world.

We do not feel inclined to retire so soon as these boatmen, who have been trained to early hours. The evening is too young, and besides the beauty of the night scenery has an attraction for us that banishes the thought of sleep from us. We sit out on the bow of the boat and become absorbed in the beauty of the scene, which is lost to the sleeping world. The clouds that had been flying across the sky during the day have all vanished, and now the heavens are bright with stars that seem to s.h.i.+ne with unwonted brilliance. The mountains on which we have gazed all the day long look now like sleeping giants hiding themselves in the gloom of night and invested with an air of mystery as we try in vain to catch an outline of them. The people on the boats are all asleep, and only an occasional sound from a restless child can be heard coming from them. Everything is silent but the flowing river, and this ebbs on with ceaseless motion, and as if to remind us of its presence swishes up against us, and with inarticulate language gives us a cheery hail and then pa.s.ses on. We go on dreaming, for the stars and the land lying in the vague mystery of night, and the undefined forms of the mountains and the ceaseless voices that nature utters all night long lay their spell upon us. By and by a dreamy, drowsy feeling creeps over us, and we retire to our cabin, and soon with the lullaby of the river that murmurs its music alongside our boat, we lose all sense of the world outside.

THE END

_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Macgowan's _Imperial History of China_, where T'a Ki is discussed, in the chapter on the Chow Dynasty.

[2] For an account of these see Macgowan's _Imperial History of China_.

[3] See Macgowan's _Imperial History of China_ for fuller information on this book.

[4] See Macgowan's _Imperial History of China_, pa.s.sim.

[5] The cangue is a huge wooden collar which is fastened about the neck.

It is so broad that the man cannot feed himself, neither can he frighten away a mosquito that may settle on his nose, nor can he sleep comfortably whilst he wears it. He is usually made to parade near the place where his offence was committed, as an object lesson to others.

[6] See Chapter on ”Servants” for a disquisition on this point.

[7] See Macgowan's _Imperial History of China_, pa.s.sim.

[8] A league in China is equal to ten Chinese miles. With the want of precision, however, of the Chinese in their weights and measures, a league is a very variable denomination. On what are called the ”Great Roads,”

that is on a great thoroughfare, the length is as stated above, but on cross-country roads, where the farmers are great walkers, a league may sometimes extend to as much as ten English miles. The fact is, as we have often found by experience, the length of a league depends very much upon the measuring capacity of a man's mind, for it is a rare thing to get a number of people to agree as to the exact distance between one place and another.

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