Part 9 (1/2)
Every year a few tiger skins find their way to Hsia-kuan from the southern part of the province along the Tonking border, but the good ones are quickly sold at prices varying from twenty-five to fifty dollars (Mexican).
Ten dollars is the usual price for leopard skins.
Marco Polo visited Ta-li Fu in the thirteenth century and, among other things, he speaks of the fine horses from this part of the province. We were surprised to find that the animals are considerably larger and more heavily built than those of Yun-nan Fu and appear to be better in every way. A good riding horse can be purchased for seventy-five dollars (Mexican) but mules are worth about one hundred and fifty dollars because they are considered better pack animals.
On the advice of men who had traveled much in the interior of Yun-nan we hired our caravan and riding animals instead of buying them outright, and subsequent experience showed the wisdom of this course. Saddle ponies, which are used only for short trips about the city, cannot endure continual traveling over the execrable roads of the interior where often it is impossible to feed them properly. If an entire caravan were purchased the leader of the expedition would have unceasing trouble with the _mafus_ to insure even ordinary care of the animals, an opportunity would be given for endless ”squeeze” in the purchase of food, and there are other reasons too numerous to mention why in this province the plan is impracticable.
However, the caravan ponies do try one's patience to the limit. They are trained only to follow a leader, and if one happens to be behind another horse it is well-nigh impossible to persuade it to pa.s.s. Beat or kick the beast as one will, it only backs up or crowds closely to the horse in front. On the first day out h.e.l.ler, who was on a particularly bad animal, when trying to pa.s.s one of us began to cavort about like a circus rider, prancing from side to side and backward but never going forward. We shouted that we would wait for him to go on but he replied helplessly, ”I can't, this horse isn't under my management,” and we found very soon that our animals were not under our management either!
In a town near Ta-li Fu we were in front of the caravan with Wu and h.e.l.ler: Wu stopped to buy a basket of mushrooms but his horse refused to move ahead. Beat as he would, the animal only backed in a circle, ours followed, and in a few moments we were packed together so tightly that it was impossible even to dismount. There we sat, helpless, to the huge delight of the villagers until rescued by a _mafu_. As soon as he led Wu's horse forward the others proceeded as quietly as lambs.
We paid forty cents (Mexican) a day for each animal while traveling, and fifteen or twenty cents when in camp, but the rate varies somewhat in different parts of the province, and in the west and south, along the Burma border fifty cents is the usual price. When a caravan is engaged the necessary _mafus_ are included and they buy food for themselves and beans and hay for the animals.
Ever since leaving Yun-nan Fu the cook we engaged at Paik-hoi had been a source of combined irritation and amus.e.m.e.nt. He was a lanky, effeminate gentleman who never before had ridden a horse, and who was physically and mentally unable to adapt himself to camp life. After five months in the field he appeared to be as helpless when the caravan camped for the night as when we first started, and he would stand vacantly staring until someone directed him what to do. But he was a good cook, when he wished to exert himself, and had the great a.s.set of knowing a considerable amount of English. While we were in Ta-li Fu Mr. Evans overheard him relating his experiences on the road to several of the other servants. ”Of course,” said the cook, ”it is a fine way to see the country, but the riding! My goodness, that's awful! After the third day I didn't know whether to go on or turn back--I was so sore I couldn't sit down even on a chair to say nothing of a horse!”
He had evidently fully made up his mind not to ”see the country” that way for the day after we left Ta-li Fu _en route_ to the Tibetan frontier he became violently ill. Although we could find nothing the matter with him he made such a good case for himself that we believed he really was quite sick and treated him accordingly. The following morning, however, he sullenly refused to proceed, and we realized that his illness was of the mind rather than the body. As he had accepted two months' salary in advance and had already sent it to his wife in Paik-hoi, we were in a position to use a certain amount of forceful persuasion which entirely accomplished its object and illness did not trouble him thereafter.
The loss of a cook is a serious matter to a large expedition. Good meals and varied food must be provided if the personnel is to work at its highest efficiency and cooking requires a vast amount of thought and time. In Yun-nan natives who can cook foreign food are by no means easy to find and when our Paik-hoi gentleman finally left us upon our return to Ta-li Fu we were fortunate in obtaining an exceedingly competent man to take his place through the good offices of Mr. Hanna.
CHAPTER XII
LI-CHIANG AND ”THE TEMPLE OF THE FLOWERS”
We left a part of our outfit with Mr. Evans at Ta-li Fu and with a new caravan of twenty-five animals traveled northward for six days to Li-chiang Fu. By taking a small road we hoped to find good collecting in the pine forests three days from Ta-li, but instead there was a total absence of animal life. The woods were beautiful, parklike stretches which in a country like California would be full of game, but here were silent and deserted. During the fourth and fifth days we were still in the forests, but on the sixth we crossed a pa.s.s 10,000 feet high and descended abruptly into a long marshy plain where at the far end were the gray outlines of Li-chiang dimly visible against the mountains.
Wu and I galloped ahead to find a temple for our camp, leaving h.e.l.ler and my wife to follow. A few pages from her journal tell of their entry into the city.
We rode along a winding stone causeway and halted on the outskirts of the town to wait until the caravan arrived. Neither Roy nor Wu was in sight but we expected that the _mafus_ would ask where they had gone and follow, for of course we could not speak a word of the language.
Already there was quite a sensation as we came down the street, for our sudden appearance seemed to have stupefied the people with amazement.
One old lady looked at me with an indescribable expression and uttered what sounded exactly like a long-drawn ”Mon Dieu” of disagreeable surprise.
I tried smiling at them but they appeared too astonished to appreciate our friendliness and in return merely stared with open mouths and eyes.
We halted and immediately the street was blocked by crowds of men, women, and children who poured out of the houses, shops, and cross-streets to gaze in rapt attention. When the caravan arrived we moved on again expecting that the _mafus_ had learned where Roy had gone, but they seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the narrow winding streets. Even though we did not find a camping place we afforded the natives intense delight.
I felt as though I were the chief actor in a circus parade at home, but the most remarkable attraction there could not have equaled our unparalleled success in Li-chiang. On the second excursion through the town we pa.s.sed down a cross-street, and suddenly from a courtyard at the right we heard feminine voices speaking English.
”It's a girl. No, it's a boy. No, no, can't you see her hair, it's a girl!” Just then we caught sight of three ladies, unmistakably foreigners although dressed in Chinese costume. They were Mrs. A. Kok, wife of the resident Pentecostal Missionary, and two a.s.sistants, who rushed into the street as soon as they had determined my s.e.x and literally ”fell upon my neck.” They had not seen a white woman since their arrival there four years ago and it seemed to them that I had suddenly dropped from the sky.
While we were talking Wu appeared to guide us to the camp. They had chosen a beautiful temple with a flower-filled courtyard on the summit of a hill overlooking the city. It was wonderfully clean and when our beds, tables, and chairs were spread on the broad stone porch it seemed like a real home.
The next days were busy ones for us all, Roy and h.e.l.ler setting traps, and I working at my photography. We let it be known that we would pay well for specimens, and there was an almost uninterrupted procession of men and boys carrying long sticks, on which were strung frogs, rats, toads, and snakes. They would simply beam with triumph and enthusiasm.
Our fame spread and more came, bringing the most ridiculous tame things--pigeons, maltese cats, dogs, white rabbits, caged birds, and I even believe we might have purchased a girl baby or two, for mothers stood about with little brown kiddies on their backs as though they really would like to offer them to us but hardly dared.
The temple priest was a good looking, smooth-faced chap, and hidden under his coat he brought dozens of skins. I believe that his religious vows did not allow him to handle animals--openly--and so he would beckon Roy into the darkness of the temple with a most mysterious air, and would extract all sorts of things from his sleeves just like a sleight-of-hand performer. He was a rich man when we left!