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SCENES OF A CHINESE JOURNEY.
NLY a tiny dot and two queer looking
characters; that was the map’s quick
ly told story. But a night spent there
almost two years ago was enough to
show that Kong Moon is not only “the
door of the river,” as its name in
dicates, but that it is a city of the first
importance, with more than a hundred
thousand people and the business cen-
O
ter for the most populous and the wealthiest sec
tion of South China.
That night incidentally spent there, wrote itis
needs and importance deeply on our hearts, and the
desire to return for a more protracted stay; this
we were permitted to do during the first two weeks
of March.
A Country Trip.—Would you like to take a trip
with us? Then, come, but you must be up by 4:30
for the boat is scheduled to sail at 6:30, and there
are many things to pack. Cots, bedding, clothing,
alcohol stoves, and foreign canned goods; the latter
to sandwich between and give a change from Chi
nese food. Already the clock has struck six, and
to our consternation the boy brings word that there
are no ’rickshas to be found. How will we get
our outfit to the steamer? “But where there is a
will there is away,” and when the landing is reach
ed there are yet several minutes to spare. But the
steamer, where is it? Surely it cannot be that a
Chinese boat has left before her scheduled time.
Such rapidity is not to be thought of, no, not in
China. “Oh,” some one says, “this is the wrong
day, she went yesterday and goes again to-morrow.”
Shall we wait? No, no! Over there is a passage
boat bound for Kong Moon, and though it is not
very comfortable according to Western standards,
yet Paul doubtless had no better, and it is for us
to count our disappointment “His appointment,”
and this amongst “the all things that work to
gether for good.” Before the journey is ended
our hearts have proved that a primitive, Chinese
passage boat can be a place of joy when it fur
nishes the opportunity of declaring the precious
tidings of life.
A Passage Boat You will think our barque a
curious affair, with no graceful lines like an ocean
liner. But for almost a score of years she has plied
these waters carrying the multitudes to and fro,
and from her solid air it would seem that she,' is
good for many a day to come. From beam to beam
she is eighty feet, with proportionate width but
shallow draft. Her mast touches the fifty foot
point, which, with a long narrow red pennant float
ing to the breeze, adds to her quai’ tness if not to
her beauty. You have seen hulls of many vessels,
perhaps, but here is a new variety. This one is
like the body of a good fat pig, with its broad back
rounding to the sides. Standing within you can
but exclaim, “I never saw the like of this before!”
In the space where a six-foot man could stand with
comfort a second floor has been run, dividing already
limited space into two compartments and thus mak
ing two floors. Each floor is filled with men and
boys, who either sit or recline on their mats. A
little farther back a small corner is divided off for
women who travel. Her lot is to stay at home,
raise the children, feed the pigs and work the fields.
If any one in their home wears the silk or goes
“abroad” the husband submits to that as his por
tion.
On the top of our pig shaped boat there is a
busy seen-, and it is there that we select our quar
ters rather than in the stuffy ones below. Running
from the stern two-thirds of the way forward a
floor is laid and over this is erected a bamboo roof
to afford protection from sun and rain. The stern
inclines upward and furnishes sleeping rooms for
the crew, as well as an open kitchen. There the
shaft of the rudder begins and runs forward some
thirty-five feet, where three men manage it by a
system of ropes. Close by we secure seats, amid
ship. Mrs. Todd has a canvas chair, while a bundle
of cot-beds make a pile of lumber softer for my
resting place. The Bible women and the colpor
teur, in true Chinese fashion, spread their mats
The frolden Age for August 16, 1906.
By A. S. Todd, Missionary, Macao, China.
on the floor and with doubled knees are comforta
bly fixed for the journey.
Forward of us are breast-works of empty coal
baskets to break the force of the strong March
wind.
Fellow Passengers Ours is a mixed crowd. The
long coated gentleman is aboard, also the almost
garmentless coolie. Soon the floor space about us
is all taken; mat after mat is spread, shoes are taken
off, and our fellow passengers are making them
selves comfortable for the day’s journey. The
opium lamp and its emaciated victim are to be seen,
others are puffing away at their long bamboo to
bacco pipes, while some have the customary tea
pot near. The proverbial Chinese red is much in
evidence, passenger after passenger unfolds his
bundle of bedding and wraps his blanket about him.
The Bible woman wrapped in hers looks not alto
gether unlike a Mexican squaw and would be a fine
target for the “Camera fiend.”
Chinese Cunning.—The first and only stop is at
the Chinese Custom Station just out of the Macao
harbor. After a tedious wait our boat is allowed
to pass. I was much amused to see a custom official
(an Englishman) stirring an old cabbage barrel.
“Why,” said I, “you do not expect to find anything
in there, do you”? “There is no better place for
contraband,” was the quick reply. “Do you be
lieve it?” he continued, “the other day, down in
that water tank, under the water, we found a re
volver; and over there in that rice oven, which *
had a slow fire burning under it, were a hundred
pounds of matches.” How is that for shrewdness?
And yet we have laughed at stolid John Chinaman;
but you will have to travel many a day to match his
clever artfulness.
Wisdom Indeed.—Long ago the world heard of
the incapacity of Chinese officials and how they are
adepts at squeezing the people, but this custom
official told an incident that made me feel like lift
ing my hat to Celestial officialdom. Said he, “We
recently caught a hundred piculs of rice being smug
gled out of Chinese territory, for you know the
Viceroy does not allow rice to be shipped away lest
a famine be caused amongst the people.” Here
is wisdom indeed! Rice is China’s staple food and
were it to fall into the hands of merchants for for
eign shipment in large quantities there might be
great suffering in this land. With rare foresight
the Viceroy prevents this, and Southern China only
grows rice for her own consumption.
Scenes of Beauty.—All day we have steamed up
the river, our boat being towed by a small launch.
At times the stream widens to the proportions of
the Mississippi and you would think yourself going
into the open sea were it not for the mountains
all about you. Before coming to China I imagined
a country vast in plains, interspersed here and there
with hills, but her coast and much of the interior
have mountains that lift their heads high in the
air. These, together with winding streams, broad
acres of rice fields, waving palms, orange groves
and the fruit and foliage of a tropical country, make
China, the China of nature, a thing of beauty and
were it not for the wreckage of sin, she would be
a joy forever.
At frequent intervals during the day we have
passed village after village, while connecting water
ways have told of interior places dotting their
banks. Toward the middle of the afternoon our
stream swings about a graceful curve, widens into
the beautiful expanse of a large lake, while in the
distance Kong Moon comes in view.
First Glimpses.—Soon the custom station is pass
ed and we enter a smaller stream. It would be
difficult to describe the kaleidoscopic scene. Here
are boats of every description and of designs which
no Western mind would ever conceive. Here are
the tiny sampans, there massive junks; here are
narrow ferry boats, there raft after raft of float
ing lumber from Kwong Sai; here are passage boats
propelled by stern wheels after the manner of the
old Galley-Slave, there is a modern gunboat; here
are men towing from the store a cargo boat by
means of ropes attached to the vessel’s mast, there
is a house boat all bedecked with red, and som,e
one says with a smile, “there is a wedding.” And
in the midst of these marks of an ancient past is
the shrill whistle of the modern launch.
Center of Centers.—Kong Moon is splendid for
situation. Lying principally on the left bank of the
stream she has a river frontage of several miles.
Houses come close to the water’s edge, while one
half of the stream is a mass of boats lying close
to the shore. Dr. Henry, in his book descriptive
of South China, tells us that he has seen five hun
dred seagoing junks here at one time. In her more
than a hundred thousand people there are repre
sentatives from hundreds of interior towns, and her
commerce reaches out to a vast stretch of country.
Indeed, barring Canton, there is no more impor
tant center m Kwong Tung province. Hers is the
commanding position, the gateway to the interior
south of us for two hundred miles.
Evangelize her and you have touched lives from
every quarter, ajid have scattered the seed in
countless villages and cities. Being a commercial
center, men have come in from every quarter, leav
ing their families in the smaller places. Thus it
may be said Kong Moon is a city of men, for while
there are many women here yet the proportion of
men is far greater. You can easily see that when
you reach this city you are touching hundreds of
other places at the same time. Herein lies the im
portance of the place and why we have sought to
enter this center of centers.
Sleeping Under Disadvantages But what of the
night, where shall we lay our heads? As soon as
our passage boat anchors the colporteur goes to se
cure a house boat, and on the morrow we shall be
able to get permanently located. Directly he re
turns with a neat and clean little vessel, but it is
very small. Just wide enough to stretch out cots
crosswise and about twenty feet long, and there are
four of our party, several baskets of luggage, and
then there are five in the boat family besides. Nine
people, with furniture in a space nine by twenty,
with the roof doing duty as well! You may think
this is packing after the order of sardines, but we
survived and were glad of a place to rest.
On the former trip we quartered one night in
just as narrow circumstances. The following morn
ing an incident occurred which I shall not soon
forget. The boat man was engaged in a somewhat
heated discussion with a fellow boat owner when
his wife came on the scene, and as she was a wordy
little woman, she, of course, had to express her
opinion. Almost quicker than thought he turned
and slapped her squarely in the face. My! how
his hand did resound. With that she vanished off
the scene; in a moment, however, she turned up
again with a smile as if nothing out of the ordi
nary had happened. And, perhaps, nothing out of
the “ordinary” in that home had occurred.
An Earnest—Though our boat was an unpre
tentious affair we found it could be the scene of
much joy. Little did we think that this first night
would bring such a gracious seal to our attempt
to enter Kong Moon, but God’s thoughts are higher
than ours. Our hastily prepared supper was over,
but before the table was ready to receive visitors
we were cheered by the arrival of our dear brother,
Dr. Ching, from Muk Chow, whom we had asked
to join us in Kong Moon. Several friends accom
panied him, one an unsaved man who had formerly
lived in Macao and had frequently attended our
meetings. He was a very wicked character, and
though much prayer was made for him he did not
close in with the overtures of mercy. For more
than a year we had lost sight of him, but here he
is amongst our visitors. Their presence was the
opportunity for a Gospel service; we had come to
open battle and why not begin the first night? At
the close of the service, opportunity was given for
testimony. When the others had spoken this man
began. Immediately the thought came, “the brass
of this Chinaman, he an unsaved, licentious fellow,
offering an exposition of the Scriptures.” But
soon my questionings were silenced, and my disgust
(Continued on page 5.)
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