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!

The people are mostly tribesmen--Mosos, Lolos, Tibetans, and many others. The girls wear their hair "bobbed off" in front and with a long plait in back. They wash their hair once--on their wedding day--and then it is wrapped up in turbans for the rest of their lives. The Tibetan women dress their hair in dozens of tiny braids, but I don't believe there is any authority that they ever wash it, or themselves either.

Li-chiang was our first collecting camp and we never had a better one. On the morning after our arrival h.e.l.ler found mammals in half his traps, and in the afternoon we each put out a line of forty traps which brought us fifty mammals of eleven species. This was a wonderful relief after the many days of travel through country devoid of animal life.

Our traps contained shrews of two species, meadow voles, Asiatic white-footed mice, spiny mice, rats, squirrels, and tree shrews. The small mammals were exceedingly abundant and easy to catch, but after the first day we began to have difficulty with the natives who stole our traps. We usually marked them with a bit of cotton, and the boys would follow an entire line down a hedge, taking every one. Sometimes they even brought specimens to us for sale which we knew had been caught in our stolen traps!

The traps were set under logs and stumps and in the gra.s.s where we found the "runways" or paths which mice, rats and voles often make. These animals begin to move about just after dark, and we usually would inspect our traps with a lantern about nine o'clock in the evening. This not only gave the trap a double chance to be filled but we also secured perfect specimens, for such species as mice and shrews are cannibalistic, and almost every night, if the specimens were not taken out early in the evening, several would be partly eaten.

Small mammals are often of much greater interest and importance scientifically than large ones, for, especially among the Insectivores, there are many primitive forms which are apparently of ancestral stock and throw light on the evolutionary history of other living groups.

Li-chiang is a fur market of considerable importance for the Tibetans bring down vast quant.i.ties of skins for sale and trade. Lambs, goats, foxes, cats, civets, pandas, and flying squirrels hang in the shops and there are dozens of fur dressers who do really excellent tanning.

This city is a most interesting place especially on market day, for its inhabitants represent many different tribes with but comparatively few Chinese. By far the greatest percentage of natives are the Mosos who are semi-Tibetan in their life and customs. They were originally an independent race who ruled a considerable part of northern Yun-nan, and Li-chiang was their ancient capital. To the effeminate and "highly civilized" Chinese they are "barbarians," but we found them to be simple, honest and wholly delightful people. Many of those whom we met later had never seen a white woman, and yet their inherent decency was in the greatest contrast to that of the Chinese who consider themselves so immeasurably their superior.

The Mosos have large herds of sheep and cattle, and this is the one place in the Orient except in large cities along the coast, where we could obtain fresh milk and b.u.t.ter. As with the Tibetans, b.u.t.tered tea and _tsamba_ (parched oatmeal) are the great essentials, but they also grow quant.i.ties of delicious vegetables and fruit. b.u.t.tered tea is prepared by churning fresh b.u.t.ter into hot tea until the two have become well mixed. It is then thickened with finely ground _tsamba_ until a ball is formed which is eaten with the fingers. The combination is distinctly good when the ingredients are fresh, but if the b.u.t.ter happens to be rancid the less said of it the better.

The natives of this region are largely agriculturists and raise great quant.i.ties of squash, turnips, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, onions, corn, peas, beans, oranges, pears, persimmons and nuts. While traveling we filled our saddle pockets with pears and English walnuts or chestnuts and could replenish our stock at almost any village along the road.

Everything was absurdly cheap. Eggs were usually about eight cents (Mexican) a dozen, and we could always purchase a chicken for an empty tin can, or two for a bottle. In fact, the latter was the greatest desideratum and when offers of money failed to induce a native to pose for the camera a bottle nearly always would decide matters in our favor.

In Li-chiang we learned that there was good shooting only twelve miles north of the city on the Snow Mountain range, the highest peak of which rises 18,000 feet above the sea. We left a part of our outfit at Mr. Kok's house and engaged a caravan of seventeen mules to take us to the hunting grounds. Mr. Kok a.s.sisted us in numberless ways while we were in the vicinity of Li-chiang and in other parts of the country. He took charge of all our mail, sending it to us by runners, loaned us money when it was difficult to get cash from Ta-li Fu and helped us to engage servants and caravans.

It had rained almost continually for five days and a dense gray curtain of fog hung far down in the valley, but on the morning of October 11 we awoke to find ourselves in another world. We were in a vast amphitheater of encircling mountains, white almost to their bases, rising ridge on ridge, like the foamy billows of a mighty ocean. At the north, silhouetted against the vivid blue of a cloudless sky, towered the great Snow Mountain, its jagged peaks crowned with gold where the morning sun had kissed their summits. We rode toward it across a level rock-strewn plain and watched the fleecy clouds form, and float upward to weave in and out or lose themselves in the vast snow craters beside the glacier. It was an inspiration, that beautiful mountain, lying so white and still in its cradle of dark green trees. Each hour it seemed more wonderful, more dominating in its grandeur, and we were glad to be of the chosen few to look upon its sacred beauty.

In the early afternoon we camped in a tiny temple which nestled into a grove of spruce trees on the outskirts of a straggling village. To the north the Snow Mountain rose almost above us, and on the east and south a gra.s.sy rock-strewn plain rolled away in gentle undulations to a range of hills which jutted into the valley like a great rec.u.mbent dragon.

A short time after our camp was established we had a visit from an Austrian botanist, Baron Haendel-Mazzetti, who had been in the village for two weeks. He had come to Yun-nan for the Vienna Museum before the war, expecting to remain a year, but already had been there three. Surrounded as he was by Tibet, Burma, and Tonking, his only possible exit was by way of the four-month overland journey to Shanghai. He had little money and for two years had been living on Chinese food. He dined with us in the evening, and his enjoyment of our coffee, bread, kippered herring, and other canned goods was almost pathetic.

A week after our arrival Baron Haendel-Mazzetti left for Yun-nan Fu and eventually reached Shanghai which, however, became a closed port to him upon China's entry into the European war. It is to be hoped that his collections, which must be of great scientific value and importance, have arrived at a place of safety long ere this book issues from the press.

CHAPTER XIII

CAMPING IN THE CLOUDS

We hired four Moso hunters in the Snow Mountain village. They were picturesque fellows, supposedly dressed in skins, but their garments were so ragged and patched that it was difficult to determine the original material of which they were made.

One of them was armed with a most extraordinary gun which, it was said, came from Tibet. Its barrel was more than six feet long, and the stock was curved like a golf stick. A powder fuse projected from a hole in the side of the barrel, and just behind it on the b.u.t.t was fastened a forked spring.

At his waist the man carried a long coil of rope, the slowly burning end of which was placed in the crotched spring. When about to shoot the native placed the b.u.t.t of the weapon against his cheek, pressed the spring so that the burning rope's end touched the powder fuse, and off went the gun.

The three other hunters carried crossbows and poisoned arrows. They were remarkably good shots and at a distance of one hundred feet could place an arrow in a six-inch circle four times out of five. We found later that crossbows are in common use throughout the more remote parts of Yun-nan and were only another evidence that we had suddenly dropped back into the Middle Ages and, with our high-power rifles and twentieth century equipment, were anachronisms.

The natives are able to obtain a good deal of game even with such primitive weapons for they depend largely upon dogs which bring gorals and serows to bay against a cliff and hold them until the men arrive. The dogs are a mongrel breed which appears to be largely hound, and some are really excellent hunters. White is the usual color but a few are mixed black and brown, or fox red. Hotenfa, one of our Mosos, owned a good pack and we all came to love its big red leader. This fine dog could be depended upon to dig out game if there was any in the mountains, but his life with us was short for he was killed by our first serow. Hotenfa was inconsolable and the tears he shed were in sincere sorrow for the loss of a faithful friend.

Almost every family owns a dog. Some of those we saw while pa.s.sing through Chinese villages were nauseating in their unsightliness, for at least thirty per cent of them were more or less diseased. Barely able to walk, they would stagger across the street or lie in the gutter in indescribable filth. One longed to put them out of their misery with a bullet but, although they seemed to belong to n.o.body, if one was killed an owner appeared like magic to quarrel over the damages.

The dogs of the non-Chinese tribes were in fairly good condition and there seemed to be comparatively little disease among them. Our hunters treated their hounds kindly and fed them well, but the animals themselves, although loyal to their masters, manifested but little affection. In Korea dogs are eaten by the natives, but none of the tribes with which we came in contact in Yun-nan used them for food.