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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.) 3