Wistaria and Jade

Southland Times, Issue 19099, 17 November 1923, Page 8

Wistaria and Jade

OLD COUNTRIES IN MODERN TIMES

NEW ZEALANDER IN THE FAR EAST

BY

W. QUINN.

(Copyright). XII. DOWN THE YANGTZSE.

We voyaged down the Yangtzse in a fine river steamer of 2,800 tons. A fleet of these steamers ply regularly on the river and the low hulls with three decks rising one above the other send your thoughts back to the days of youth and Mark Twain’s “Life on the Mississippi/’ wherein he describes similar steamers. The state rooms of the &£. Kingan were the most comfortable I have ever travelled in, more like those of a good hotel. The voyage down, with the aid of the swift current, is done at the speed of 15 knots and there is no perceptible motion of the steamer. The brown flood runs past so quickly, as if the waters that have fretted between the banks since they have left the HilLs of Thibet, 3000 miles away, are mad to reach the freedom of the boundles sea. It is owing to the erosion of the friable river banks that the river gets its brown colour. The immense size and the volume of water made a deep impression on me as I stood on the steamer’s decks surveying the swirling muddy waters. From bank to bank the river at this point would at least be a mile and a half, but sometimes it was hard to tell where the "bank really was, for behind the seeming bank the masts of junks could be seen, showing that we were passing an island. The banks of the river and these islands are exceedingly fertile, owing to the rich silt brought down by the river, but they are very liable to flood. Ocean-going steamers can go up as far as Hankow in the summer months, a distance of 600 miles, but the river is navigable by smaller steamers for another 1000 miles. At times the rise and fall of the water is tremendous, but the Chinaman is a philosopher and takes things very much as they come. He builds his mud hut six inches above high water mark and in the winter makes up for his summer’s sojourn on the waters by finding himself giddily perched 50 feet above them. In the upper reaches of the Yangtzse the fall is over 100 feet. Villages and towns abound on the river banks. Our first call was at Kiukchang and I was very glad to heat that there Was an English doctor in this Chinese town for my hand had been badly poisoned by a malarial mosquito. I was not long in getting ashore and having it attended to. Owing to the rise and fall the river steamers always tie up to well-kept hulks which are moored a little distance from the bank, communication being made by plank bridges easily moveable when necessity arises. The Chinese coolies on sampans take great risks to be first on board the steamer. Coming down swiftly on the current, they simply banged into our steamer and immediately disappeared under the guard of the vessel. Leaning far over the rail I could see no sign of the sampan or its crew and thought they had been swamped, but they were hanging on like grim death underneath the guard. Suddenly a yellow hand or foot appeared over the projection and a coolie clambered on the lowermost deck. Four or five sampans followed suit and the King-an gathered them in as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings. If these coolies miss their hold they are done for, going down in the swift current under the propeller—a by no means infrequent occurrence—but life is held cheap in China. Coming down in the train from Pekin I had the pleasure of meeting H. A. Franck, the noted travel author. .(If anyone is desirous of reading a most entertaining book of travels let them read Franck’s “A Vagabond Journey Around the World.”) I found Mr and Mrs Franck most charming and interesting people to talk to, and I was exceedingly sorry on having lo refuse their kind invitation to spend a week with them at a Chinese village on top of a mountain near Kuikchang. Late in the afternoon the steamer called at an important town called Anking and there was great trouble in getting to the landing stage, as the river was running in this place like a mill race. It is surprising to see the amount of cargo that is dumped in and out in a short space of time at these river towns. It has the usual vocal accompaniment of Chinese shouting, but I have got so used to this now that it gently flows in one ear and floats out by the other, unheeded by me. This evening as the King-an slipped her cables and headed down stream with the sun a fiery globe of brilliant crimson sinking in a black bank of clouds astern, the surface of the Yangtzse, gleaming in the fading light, could only be compared to molten gold, across which for a few brief seconds, shot one great scintillating crimson beam.

The captain of our steamer was a Scotchman and when the anchor was being let down to-night things were not going on “forrard” exactly as he wished and from the bridge he rapped out commands in language which is not to be found between the leaves of the New Testament. Hearing him, I was quite in sympathy with the dear old lady who had been travelling in foreign parts and not having heard much English spoken on her tour, arrived at the wharves of a port to embark for her homeland. She was slightly deaf and had to use her hanu to focus the sound as the Chief Officer addressed some natives from the deck as follows:—“Get on there, you blasted, blank, blank, blank, what the d—are you doing you dash-dash-dash.” Old lady—“Oh! how lovely to hear a Christian voice again!” When the anchor was let down close to one of the banks, the lead showed a depth of 54 feet, it would be considerably more in mid-channel. Early next morning we called at Wee Fu and at breakfast I inquired from a friend across the table what is the population of this little town? An elderly American lady missionary immediately made reply. “Sir, that lil* town has a population of 200,000 inhabitants.”—Squashed I

The steamer was surrounded by the boats of the professional beggars—men, women and children spend most of their time at this occupation, it being quite a recognised trade. They have a guild and tradesunion and toll is levied on the shopkeepers. If a 1 man refuses to pay, a number of beggars. with loathsome diseases gather round his door step and sit there (to the detriment of his business) until he gives in. The same thing is often done at weddings, so the beggars wield a certain amount of power on the community. The river beggars have little bags attached to very long bamboo poles and from their boats they push these up to the topmost deck at the same time beseeching you with weird, cries for alms. For the first time I went down here on the second and third decks. The upper deck is barred off from the Iqwpv decks and fully armed soldiers stand on guard night and day. This is necessary as piracy is rife in these waters. The lower decks were absolutely littered with Chinese, male and female, of which we had 2000 on board. They were lying about everywhere, food was being freely consumed and the air could have been cut in blocks. How the people lived in such an atmosphere I know not, yet they seemed quite at their ease and contented. Hades ought to hold no terrors for them as regards heat. On expressing my doubts to the captain as to the number we had on board he said: “Hoots, mon, they stow away like 'sanguinary’ sardines in a ‘crimson’ tin.” We always went ashore at these towns, but did not venture too far in as the place was usually like a rabbit warren, and it was so easy to get confused as to the direction in the narrow winding alleyways. At

Pukow we were almost left behind, the steamer leaving twenty minutes early, upset our calculations and we had to make a run for it, jumping on board after she had sheered off. It was just dusk and we were nearly compelled to spend a night in this Chinese town and at a Chinese inn. Very probably we would have carried away some “live stock.” ON TO SHANGHAI.

As we got nearer the mouth of the river, the banks began to widen, so far apart indeed as to be almost indistinguishable. Chinese junks were now going up the river in great squadrons and it is astonishing to see how these ungainly looking craft with the bow as broad as the stern, can scud before the breeze and at no mean pace. They carry huge sails and the Chinese must have some method of more equally distributing the wind pressure on the mast or else the tall bamboo would be “yanked” into the sea. Lengths of thin bamboo run across the sail so when a reef is required to be taken in they just pull a block and tackle and the bamboo sail attached joins the one above. We left the Yangtzse at Woosung, the great river continuing its course towards the sea whilst our steamer proceeded up the Whangpoo river to Shanghai, a distance of 14 miles. Alongside the banks of the Whangpoo could be seen an immense variety of shipping and they were lined with wharves, docks and warehouses. The never-ceasing movements of merchandise for transportation from ship to shore and vice versa, bespoke the shipping and commercial prosperity of Shanghai, the most important port of China. Shanghai with its population of about 1,000,000 has been called the Paris of the East and is a very handsome city. Hie streets are well laid out and the Bund takes pride of place amongst all other water fronts we have seen. I took a walk along it after dark, the air being delightfully cool. The harbour fairly beamed with myriads of lights and the city itself was dazzling in its brightness. Nanking road is the centre of the shopping district. Here are the , various stores where silks, satins, embroideries and such like are sold and a visit to it would charm any lady’s heart; the trouble would be getting away from it. In the Chinese quarter some of the native shops with their open fronts are most gorgeously painted and decorated in red, gold and other colours. The sign boards with their Chinese characters are well executed and hang straight down from the roof so that looking along the street it seems full of banners. At night when the lanterns are lit the effect is very festive. I have never been in a town where I have heard so many foreign languages spoken. Shanghai is most cosmopolitan in this respect. Russian refugees have just poured in and it is pitiful to see these able-bodied men with a look of anguish in their eyes selling papers and cigarettes in the streets striving to eke out a miserable existence. Many of them are of the better class I and are now on the verge of starvation. A | guide took us through the Chinese city, : and we had the privilege of being allowed to enter thg garden of a wealthy Chinese . mandarin right in the centre of this rookery, I but it could not compare with the Japanese I gardens in beauty Fortune-tellers abounded, so just to hear what he would say I gave one ten cents, and pulling out two red pieces of paper from a dishful on his tables I handed them to the seer. Opening them out he peered through his horn spectacles and then made a number of calculations on a scroll after the manner of “two and two are five,” finally announcing per medium of the guide that I had had bad luck in February and May (of which I must have been blissfully unconscious); also in July I would have the greatest luck and plenty of money (I hope this “old gentleman’s prognostication does come trlie for I expect to arrive home that month with a sadly depleted letter of credit). In the afternoon we went for a motor tour through the suburbs, and we were surprised at the beauty and extent of these, the houses and groufids in the British Concession being very beautiful. In the fields on the outskirts of the city the patient Chinese gardeners were busily engaged, and in almost every field were little bricked-up mounds where the bodies of those too poor to pay for burial in the customary manner had been deposited. (I did not eat vegetables in Shanghai.) We passed a big Chinese funeral procession. The coffin was covered with a brilliantlycoloured cloth of red and gold, and at the head of the procession was a player on some sort of a wind instrument, the sound of which was very jnuch akin to the bagpipes. When silence reigned, I knew that these instruments, like the bagpipes, would be quite right, if people would only leave them alone. The player had certainly a queer idea as to what constituted funeral music, for he made a most unearthly noise, so much so that my friend in the motor-car was moved to say that he considered it most unseemly and ill-fitting for such a solemn occasion. I disagreed with him, pointing out that the Chinese showed their common sense by allowing this music to be played at a man’s funeral: it was certainly the very best time, for the deceased could not hear it and his (my friend’s) lamentations ought to have been reserved for the living who were compelled to listen. I thought the Java boys were fast drivers, but the Chinese chauffeur of to-day would have left them standing. I made sure that before we finished we would be compelled to stay in Shanghai to give evidence at inquestfl. He certainly was a most skilful driver: the numerous hairbreadth escapes bore witness to this, and more than one bold Chinaman 50 or 75 yards ahead thought twice and didn’t attempt to run across the road as our car came tearing round the corner. One daring sparrow thought he could fly across, but started rather late, and the’ wind-screen made him wing his flight to the sparrows’ heaven. Forty-five miles per hour is exceeding the speed limit in any town, so I rejoiced with exceeding great joy when, owing to the heating of the engine, our chauffeur was forced to slow’ down to the reasonable pace of 20 miles per hour. BACK TO HONGKONG.

We left Shanghai for Hongkong by the S.B. Suiyang at six o’clock in the morning, and at this early hour the Bund was thronged with native life, and the river was full of steamers loading and unloading. At the mouth of the Whangpoo the sails of hundreds of junks almost blotted out the horizon on the port side of our steamer. These were all making their way down to ports on the East Coast. By the colour of the water I knew we were again in the Yangtzse River, but it might as well have been the open ocean, for on neither side of the steamer could a bank be seen Two days later Amoy was reached, about the oldest port open to foreign trade. I' roin here all the goods were shipped to and fro from Japan in past days. It was also noted as a nesting place for pirates and at the present day the people who live on the coast from Amoy to Hongkong are fishermen by profession and pirates bv eho.ce It was only about a fortnight since they looted a steamer off Foochow 'I he pirates came on board as saloon nas sengers, and at an opportune time and place over-powered the crew and cleared the ship of all valuables As the Chinese passengers came on the Suiyang they aS

their baggage were searched for concealed weapons. All passenger steamers now trading between Amoy and Hongkong are compelled by law to carry armed guards, and a party of Sikhs did duty on our steamer, and in addition the steam hose was always ready for any emergency. I may say in passing that there is no love lost between the Sikhs and the Chinese. After so much travelling by land I thoroughly enjoyed the four days’ sea voyage down the east coast of China. We were only six saloon passengers all told, but genial Captain Purslow helped us to pass the time most pleasantly. More especially did we linger longer round the table at meal times, when he drew on his rich and varied experiences in many waters and lands. He was the breeziest of Britishers with boundless faith in the future of the Empire. Arriving at Hongkong I found another most welcome budget of letters and newspapers awaiting me; but was dismayed to learn that the Tango Maru was being delayed eight days, this meaning a stay of 17 days in Hongkong during the hot weather, a prospect which was not to be envied. However, amongst my correspondence was a letter from the Rev. F. Wilkinson (late Dunedin) asking me to come up and stay with them at their house in Fong T’suen, Canton, and with pleasure I accepted the kind invitation for I particularly wanted to see the working of the New Zealand Mission at Canton. The following evening I took the steamer which leaves Hongkong for Canton at 10 o’clock. I think that at night Hongkong Harbour from the sea can challenge the world for picturesqueness. Owing to the very sharp rise of the peak the land was one blazing bank of brilliant light, and the peak itself, high in cloudland, was outlined with a row of lights like a gigantic arch across the sky. The black waters beamed and danced fantastically under the gleam from numerous steamers at the wharves or in the stream, and even the smoky lamps of sampans or junks contributed fitful flashes of light (To be Continued.)