cliffs, to the sides of which clung coniferæ, while at their feet were rich forests of bamboo. On every side was heard the gurgle of mountain streams, while, here and there, were grottos full of great icicles. After three hours' march we crossed a low col and came to an open patch in the forest where the salt caravans rest, and soon after reached the crest of the range, and descended along a deep cleft in the west flank of the mountain, whence occasional glimpses of the trans-Mekong range were to be had. At 8,500 feet we emerged into more open country, between two vast cultivated spurs, with villages of mud and wattle huts perched on impossible ledges, and accessible only by paths fit for goats. A succession of bold and magnificent mountain views was unfolded, until from the gorge far beneath us we saw a column of smoke rising up from the salt wells of La Shi, to which we descended, and put up in a temple commanding a view of the little town situated in the depths of the gorge, and containing about 400 houses. Some eighty families are engaged in cooking the salt, and each can produce about 550 lbs. per day. The transport of these and other wells near is in the hands of Pei Ti Ping mule-owners, who are, in many cases, of the gentler sex. At La Shi there is one small street of shops, supplied by Szechuan pedlars. A stream runs down the bottom of the gorge, and the wooden huts of the salt boilers cling along its sides.
From Lashi we continued along a narrow path on the south side of the gorge, sometimes by the stream and sometimes high above it, and sometimes making detours to the left to get round side ravines. Soon after passing the Minchia village of Wan Ten, we caught sight of the Mekong, and descended to the little market of Ying Pan Kai. There is no ferry to the other side (west or right bank), but only a bamboo rope sling.
The sons of the late General Yang Yi Kuo live and rule at Ying Pan. Their attitude was so unfriendly that we moved a mile to the south of the market and camped by the farmstead of a hospitable Minchia, some 500 feet above the river, which is here ... feet broad, of a rich deep blue, and with a strong, but not violent, current. On the opposite side of the river, no less than seven great spurs, any one of which would be considered a first-class mountain in Europe, descend sheer to the river. The little villages, half hidden in their folds, looked like rabbit-hutches. Nature here works on her grand scale, and man and his works are reduced to insignificance.
Ying Pan and the Lashi Wells are under the direct control of the Lichiang Magistrate, whose ordinary jurisdiction also extends down the east or left bank of the Mekong to Hsiao Tsa Tsu, 13 miles south of Ying Pan. The fringe of villages on the lower slopes of the mountains on the west or right bank, together with the left bank south of Hsiao Tsa Tsu and north of the Yün Lung Chou boundary, are under the control of a t'u ssu or hereditary Chief, known as Lo t'u kuan. He is a native of Lan chou and a Minchia, but his official residence is at Tu Wo (see below) on the right bank. The upper slopes of the great range on the west of the Mekong, opposite Ying Pan, are inhabited by Lou Tzu, a tribe described by the Chinese officials as utter savages, who live by rapine, and nothing else. But the mandarins commonly speak in these terms of any non-Chinese who object to being controlled or squeezed by the Celestial Government. The Lou Tzu enjoy a wild independence in these inaccessible mountains, and are not above an occasional raid. Last year they crossed the Upper Mekong and looted the Wei Hsi official when he was on his way to his post. The Lou Tzu, the Lisaw, and the Minchia on the banks of the Mekong use cross-bows which shoot a poisoned arrow about 1 foot long. The poison looks like putty, and Chinese informed me that it is a species of "u t'ou" or taro, which causes paralysis and speedy death if it enters the blood. To be efficacious the poison has to be gathered at the tops of the mountains and in the dead of night, "light Hecate's root of hemlock digged in the dark."
When I passed by, Lo t'u kuan (the Minchia hereditary official) was on the war-path against the Lou Tzu, but his attempts to bring them under control were meeting with no success save that he had burned one village which had refused to accede to his extortionate demands for tribute; it seems that a sort of "war" is always going on in these hills, yet Chinese traders occasionally penetrate into them, and the Lou Tzu occasionally come out to the Ying pan to exchange gold, drugs, beeswax, skins, hemp, and lacquer against salt, cottons, tobacco, &c.
From Ying pan down the banks of the Mekong to the Fei Lung Bridge is a march of five days (64 miles) along the precipitous sides of the river bank, between the vast ranges which press close to the water on both sides. On the first day we reached the village of Hsiao Tsa Chu (12 miles) the narrow path leading up and down high above the river through magnificent scenery, bare and imposing. We met several bands of Lisaw women in their shell-embroidered caps and hempen kilts; they live chiefly on the west bank, the few villages on the east bank being Minchia. Just before reaching our stage progress was blocked by a formidable razor-like ridge of limestone projecting into the Mekong, and round which the river makes a bend and forms a rapid. This obstacle was only passable by a narrow and dizzy path, and the mules had to make a detour round the hills at the back. Hsiao Tsa Tsu consists of a dozen log huts, situated on a slope steep as the roof of a house, and we only just found room for a tent by a small temple built in Chinese fashion and dedicated to "the Black God of the Hills." The Headman was friendly, and, after a day's rest, he guided us along a path which ascended through a wilderness of mountains till we were 1,600 feet above the river, while above us were vast slopes and precipices with their summits crowned with snow; then descending past the log huts and narrow rice terraces of Shi Ping, we descended to a comfortable camp by the banks of the river near the village of Lamati. Here we found a double bamboo rope sling across the river, and a primitive "dug-out" or rather "burnt-out" boat made of the trunks of two trees hollowed out by fire and lashed together. A number of Minchia women crossed in the evening with loads of salt and tobacco on their backs, for villages on the west side. On the following morning the water was so cold that the mules refused for a long time to cross, and we were not all landed on the west bank till 10 A.M. At this point we joined Prince Henri of Orleans' route from Fei Lung Bridge north to Atentse.
Following the narrow path down the west bank, through a fringe of trees about 50 feet above the river, we soon reached a difficult corner, where to encourage us the guide informed me that Prince Henri had lost two mules overboard into the river. 3 miles from La Mati the country on the west bank opens out a little and forms the valley of Tu Wo, where there is considerable padi cultivation. The few places available for rice terraces along all this part of the Mekong are carefully cultivated, and the rice is of excellent quality.
The village of Tu Wo, the capital of Lo t'u kuan, consists of about 100 log huts, and a small yamên built on a ridge in the valley. The population consists of Lisaw, Minchia, and a few Chinese. In the afternoon's march the mountains closed in again to the riverside, and we had to feel our way along and round the edge of a beetling cliff. It was like walking round the neck of a champagne bottle; the loads had to be carried on men's backs and the mules led. It was with a feeling of relief that we reached our camp at the little village of Ku Li. After passing Tu Wo we constantly met bands of traders, some of whom had been among the Lou Tzu and the Lisaw of the Upper Salwen, and some of whom had been to Teng Yueh. From Tu Wo there is a path leading west into the hills; indeed, difficult though the country is, there are communications in all directions, and the natives seem to consider any slope less than 45° as level-going. The Tu Wo traders clad in hemp, armed with broad swords in univalve scabbards, and cross-bows with quivers of poisoned arrows, look far more ferocious than they really are. Many wear haversacks like the Kachins, but without the embroidery, people here know the Salwen not as the Lu Chiang, the ordinary Yünnan name, but as the Hei Lung Chiang ("Black Dragon River").
After edging round a difficult cliff just south of Ku Li, we got into more open country, where the river makes a series of majestic curves, and horse-shoe shaped valleys on the west bank admit of cultivation.
The most considerable of these is the Valley of Piao Tsuen. The village is situated 1 mile back from the river and has 150 mud and log huts, enclosed by an old mud wall.
We here passed out of the jurisdiction of Lo t'u kuan and entered that of the Yun Lang Sub-Prefect. From Piao Tsuen there is a well-beaten track west up into the hills past the village of Sung Ping, and so to the Salwen at Luku, the wild Lou Tzu not extending so far south as this.
In the afternoon we got round another formidable cliff, and camped at the little river bank hamlet of Tsao Yao, where we saw Chinese Proclamations for the first time since leaving the salt wells. One poster by the Provincial Judge was noticeable. It warned the non-Chinese inhabitants of Yunnan generally against practising the gentle arts of witch-craft and poisoning.
The people of Tsao Yao go to market at the Fei Lung Bridge, but for our tired caravan it was too long a march, and after passing through forest and long grass along a fair track high above the river for 15 miles without seeing a human habitation except the deserted guard-house of Tie Men, perched on the top of a cliff, we camped at Iron gate. Miao Wei, a village of some fifty houses, situated on a broad cultivated terrace high above the Mekong, and commanding a superb view of the great precipices which hang over the east bank.
[2021 A-1]
#
16
cliffs, to the sides of which clung coniferæ, while at their feet were rich forests of bamboo. On every side was heard the gurgle of mountain streams, while, here and there, were grottos full of great icicles. After three hours' march we crossed a low col and came to an open patch in the forest where the salt caravans rest, and soon after reached the crest of the range, and descended along a deep cleft in the west flank of the mountain, whence occasional glimpses of the trans-Mekong range were to be had. At 8,500 feet we emerged into more open country, between two vast cultivated
spurs, with villages of mud and wattle huts perched on impossible ledges, and accessible only by paths fit for goats. A succession of bold and magnificent mountain views was unfolded, until from the gorge far beneath us we saw a column of smoke rising up from the salt wells of La Shi, to which we descended, and put up in a temple commanding a view of the little town situated in the depths of the gorge, and containing about 400 houses. Some eighty families are engaged in cooking the salt, and each can produce about 550 lbs. per day. The transport of these and other wells near is in the hands of Pei Ti Ping mule-owners, who are, in many cases, of the gentler sex. At La Shi there is one small street of shops, supplied by Szechuan pedlars, A stream runs down the bottom of the gorge, and the wooden huts of the salt boilers cling along its sides.
From Lashi we continued along a narrow path on the south side of the gorge, sometimes by the stream and sometimes high above it, and sometimes making detours to the left to get round side ravines. Soon after passing the Minchia village of Wan Ten, we caught sight of the Mekong, and descended to the little market of Ying Pan Kai, There is no ferry to the other side (west or right bank), but only a bamboo rope sling.
The sons of the late General Yang Yi Kuo live and rule at Ying Pan. Their attitude was so unfriendly that we moved a mile to the south of the market and camped by the farmstead of a hospitable Minchia, some 500 feet above the river, which is here [?] feet broad, of a rich deep blue, and with a strong, but not violent, current. On the opposite side of the river, no less than seven great spurs, any one of which would be considered a first-class mountain in Europe, descend sheer to the river. The little villages, half hidden in their folds, looked like rabbit-hutches. Nature here works on her grand scale, and man and his works are reduced to insignificance.
Ying Pan and the Lashi Wells are under the direct control of the Lichiang Magistrate, whose ordinary jurisdiction also extends down the east or left bank of the Mekong to Hsiao Tsa Tsu, 13 miles south of Ying Pan. The fringe of villages on the lower slopes of the mountains on the west or right bank, together with the left bank south of Hsiao Tsa Tsu and north of the Yün Lung Chou boundary, are under the control of a t'u ssa or hereditary Chief, known as Lo t'u kuan. He is a native of Lan chou and a Miuchia, but his official residence is at Tu Wo (see below) on the right bank. The upper slopes of the great range on the west of the Mekong, opposite Ying Pan, are inhabited by Ion Tzu, a tribe described by the Chinese officials as utter savages, who live by rapine, and nothing else. But the manderans commonly speak in these terms of any non-Chinese who object to being controlled or squeezed by the Celestial Government. The Lou Tzu enjoy a wild independence in these inaccessible mountains, and are not above an occasional raid. Last year they crossed the Upper Mekong and looted the Wei Hsi official when he was on his way to his post. The Lou Tzu, the Lisaw, and the Minchia on the banks of the Mekong use cross-bows which shoot a poisoned arrow about 1 foot long. The poison looks like putty, and Chinese informed me that it is a species of "u t'ou" or taro, which causes paralysis and speedy death if it enters the blood. To be efficacious the poison has to be gathered at the tops of the mountains and in the dead of night, light Hecate's root of hemlock digged in the dark."
When I passed by, Lo t'u kuan (the Minchia hereditary official) was on the war- path against the Lou Tzu, but his attempts to bring them under control were meeting with no success save that he had burned one village which had refused to accede to his extortionate demands for tribute; it seems that a sort of war" is always going on in these hills, yet Chinese traders occasionally penetrate into them, and the Lou Tzu occasionally come out to the Ying pan to exchange gold, drugs, beeswax, skins, hemp, and lacquer against salt, cottons, tobacco, &c.
From Ying pan down the banks of the Mekong to the Fei Lung Bridge is a march of five days (64 miles) along the precipitous sides of the river bank, between the vast ranges which press close to the water on both sides. On the first day we reached the village of Hsiao Tsa Chu (12 miles) the narrow path leading up and down high above the river through magnificent scenery, bare and imposing. We met several bands of Lisaw women in their shell-embroidered caps and hempen kilts; they live chiefly on
17
the west bank, the few villages on the east bank being Minchia. Just before reaching our stage progress was blocked by a formidable razor-like ridge of limestone projecting into the Mekong, and round which the river makes a bend and forms a rapid. This obstacle was only passable by a narrow and dizzy path, and the mules had to make a detour round the hills at the back. Hsiao Tsa Tsu consists of a dozen log huts, situated on a slope steep as the roof of a house, and we only just found room for a tent by a sll temple built in Chinese fashion and dedicated to "the Black God of the Hills." The Headman was friendly, and, after a day's rest, he guided us along a path which ascended through a wilderness of mountains till we were 1,600 feet above the river, while above us were vast slopes and precipices with their summits crowned with snow; then descending past the log huts and narrow rice terraces of Shi Ping, we descended to a comfortable camp by the banks of the river near the village of Lamati. Here we found a double bamboo rope sling across the river, and a primitive "dug-out" or rather "burnt-out" boat made of the trunks of two trees hollowed out by fire and lashed together. A number of Minchia women crossed in the evening with loads of salt and tobacco on their backs, for villages on the west side. On the following morning the water was so cold that the mules refused for a long time to cross, and we were not all 59" Fahr. landed on the west bank till 10 A.M. At this point we joined Prince Henri of Orleans' route from Fei Lung Bridge north to Atentse.
At
Following the narrow path down the west bank, through a fringe of trees about 50 feet above the river, we soon reached a difficult corner, where to encourage us the guide informed me that Prince Henri had lost two mules overboard into the river. 3 miles from La Mati the country on the west bank opens out a little and forms the valley of Tu Wo, where there is considerable padi cultivation. The few places available for rice terraces along all this part of the Mekong are carefully cultivated, and the rice is of excellent quality.
The village of Tu Wo, the capital of Lo t'u kuan, consists of about 100 log huts, and a small yamên built on a ridge in the valley. The population consists of Lisaw, Minchia, and a few Chinese. In the afternoon's march the mountains closed in again to the riverside, and we had to feel our way along and round the edge of a beetling cliff. It was like walking round the neck of a champagne bottle; the loads had to be carried on men's backs and the mules led. It was with a feeling of relief that we reached our camp at the little village of Ku LJ. After passing Tu Wo we constantly met bands of traders, some of whom had been among the Lou Tzu and the Lisaw of the Upper Salwen, and some of whom had been to Teng Yueh. From Tu Wo there is a path leading west into the hills; indeed, difficult though the country is, there are communications in all directions, and the natives seem to consider any slope less than 45° as level-going. The Tu Wo traders clad in hemp, armed with broad swords in univalve scabbards, and cross-bows with quivers of poisoned arrows, look far more ferocious than they really The are. Many wear haversacks like the Kachins, but without the embroidery, people here know the Salwen not as the Lu Chiang, the ordinary Yünnan name, but as the Hei Lung Chiang ("Black Dragon River").
After edging round a difficult cliff just south of Ku Li, we got into more open country, where the river makes a series of majestic curves, and horse-shoe shaped valleys on the west bank admit of cultivation.
The most considerable of these is the Valley of Piao Tsuen. The village is situated 1 miles back from the river and has 150 mud and log hats, inclosed by an old mud wall.
We here passed out of the jurisdiction of Lo t'u kuan and entered that of the Yun Lang Sub-Prefect. From Piao Tsuen there is a well-beaten track west up into the hills past the village of Sung Ping, and so to the Salwen at Luku, the wild Lou Tzu not extending so far south as this.
In the afternoon we got round another formidable cliff, and camped at the little River bank. hamlet of Tsao Yao, where we saw Chinese Proclamations for the first time since leaving the salt wells. One poster by the Provincial Judge was noticeable. It warned the non-Chinese inhabitants of Yunnan generally against practising the gentle arts of witch- craft and poisoning.
The people of Tsao Yao go to market at the Fei Lung Bridge, but for our tired caravan it was too long a march, and after passing through forest and long grass along a fair track high above the river for 15 miles without seeing a human habitation except the deserted guard-house of Tie Men, perched on the top of a cliff, we camped at Iron gate. Miao Wei, a village of some fifty houses, situated on a broad cultivated terrace bigh above the Mekong, and commanding a superb view of the great precipices which hang
over the east bank.
[2021 A-1]
F
252
No comments yet.
Private notes are available after approval.