Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A HARD DAY
ee passed, and the way suddenly opened for us to leave Chinese work to junior colleagues (two young ladies returned with us from that trip to Kunming) and enter the Lisu work. As it would be very rough living, Mr. Fraser thought I ought to make a trial trip in to really see conditions before planning to move in permanently. Also there was an unlawful pressure on the new believers to plant opium in the Oak Flat area, where Leila Cooke was alone. (Allyn Cooke was six days north of her in the canyon, teaching and consolidating a new work there.) It was felt that a white man's presence might remind the local feudal laird that he was going fia the law in this persecution. So John and I prepared to go. Our three-yearold girlie would be left behind in Yungping in charge of our lady colleagues, one of whom was a nurse, so she would receive every care, and we planned to be gone only a month. But it tore my mother-heart to pieces despite full confidence in my fellowworkers, and I walked out of Yungping weeping. You see I was a "softy."
Mountain travel with my strong young capable hubby (he was then only twenty-cight years old) was like another honeymoon.
We took a route which led us up the valley of the Mekong river, which runs parallel to the Salween in north-western Yunnan. At length we came to a hamlet where there was no proper
'inn, but every traveller stayed in the big adobe farmhouse of the wealthiest inhabitant. It was a sooty dirty place—in fact, we dubbed it "the Dirtiest Inn in the World.' We slept upstairs in the granary.
"Tomorrow we climb," said John, "the biggest climb you've ever had! We ought to be on the road by six o'clock if possible, and we climb all morning. But when you reach the top, oh, what
. yf vf res a,
ONE VISION ONLY
a view! You can see the Salween mountains from there! Just think, Belle, tomorrow you will see Lisuland."
It was ten years since I had first heard of the Lisu tribe and felt called to minister to them. How I thrilled at the thought that | tomorrow I would see that Alpine land, even though from afar.
But early the next morning I awoke with diarrhoea and an upset stomach.
"Belle!" said John, in a pained voice. "Don't tell me we've got to stay another day in this place!"
"No!" I replied. "If I picked up one germ here by sleeping one night, I'd maybe have two by tomorrow night! We don't stop for this!'
"But it's the hardest climb till we reach the Salween," groaned John. "How can you do it, on an empty stomach and maybe with dysentery beginning?"
"Well, I'm sure I won't improve by an extra day in this di place," I argued, "Put me on my horse and then all I have to do is to sit on it!"
And so we began. Up and up, back and forth as the trail zigzagged upward. About ten in the morning we came to an abandoned tribal hut.
"Here," said John, "let me make you a cup of cocoa. Do you think you could keep it down?"
I was chilled and faint and glad for a few moments' rest from clinging to the animal. Glad for the warmth of the fire John built, and glad when the hot liquid comforted my empty stomach. It stayed down. Then once more on to the animal's back.
The Mekong side of the mountain was heavily wooded, but it was interesting to note the different tree belts. On the lower' slopes we had passed through the feathery bamboo, which creaks loudly as the wind stirs its long tubular stems. Then tall pine trees with whispering tops awed us by their height. Still farther up the trees were even greater and older, but so hung with vines, mosses, and ferns that I could not identify their kind. From the great branches these vines fell in loops and festoons perhaps twenty to fifty feet in tangled length. The sun hardly penetrated now and it was getting colder. My promise to sit the horse was not so easy to keep.
Chilled, stiff and weak, my head began to go round and I had Sei \ 4e
Pega e?
> |
& HARD DAY.
ee to pray for concentration to hold on. John watched me anxiously, eering me by assurances that the top was not far off now. And finally, with a lunge, my animal pulled himself up over a rocky ledge and stood trembling with relief on a level space—the top of the world! So it looked and felt.
The sun drenched us with a welcome warmth and I was surprised to see that the other side of our mountain was as shorn of tall timber as the Mekong side was shaggy with it. Scrub oak or rhododendron bushes covered its steep sides but did not obscure the scenery, so that far far below us, like a doll's house, we could observe a large farm.
"See, Belle!" said jubilant John, "down there is a big house where we can cook dinner. Keep your courage up. But look!" pointing to the far distance where dark purple peaks undulated along the horizon. "That is Lisuland! Those are the mountains of the Salween gorge. Tomorrow night we ought to be there."
It was a most beautiful panorama and we were tempted to stay _and look, but it was already noon and we had no place to cook food until we reached that farmhouse far, far below us. So, with a last longing glance, we began the descent.
It was three in the afternoon before I had my first real meal that day. Luckily this trouble of the morning seemed to have quieted down during my fast. Sunshine and only three o'clock in the afternoon—that was too much for youthful energy. John had been talking to our Chinese farmer-host.
"Say, Belle, you're not going to sleep here, are you? Why, we are not even down the mountain! I've been asking and they say
Old Nest, the next village, isn't far away, only about four li after u get down this hill. Let's go on and sleep there! It is a full day
Fosith there to the Salween. If we sleep here we won't make the Salween tomorrow."
Now John had misunderstood the garbled Chinese dialect of ' our host, who was not of pure Chinese blood. John thought he said three or four li when he really said thirty li!—the same sort of thing that had happened when we first went to Tali. If it had been three or four li—a little more than a mile—we would have been there in an hour or so. That is why I readily consented to leave the large comfortable farmhouse and sct out for the village of Old Nest.
Pir
OE ee.
ONE VISION ONLY
Once we had fully descended the mountain we found ourselves in the bottom of a deep ravine, winding our way over and around rocks, a noisy stream beside us and no sign of human habitation anywhere. At the end of two hours we were still in the depths of that rocky channel, daylight was fading, and a miserable rain®had begun to fall steadily. I had packed my raincoat somewhere in our loads, so it was not long before I was soaked, with the rain streaming off my sun helmet. John was walkin while I was riding the animal. Still no sign of Old Nest—or any kind of a nest!
"Belle, I pity you," said repentant Johnny. ""Wouldn't you be better off if you were walking here with me? At least your blood would be circulating."' It was then six o'clock by my watch.
"I'm too exhausted to walk, dear. Sorry. You're right. I'm cold and stiff and faint. Where is Old Nest?"
"T must have misunderstood him, Belle. I'm so sorry. He must have said san-shih instead of san si. You know how these halftribal fellows often pronounce it like that. But it has got to be soon. Even thirty li fs to end some time!"
Perhaps it was seven o'clock when we finally climbed a hill and arrived at the sprawling village. John led me to a big adobe house that looked prosperous, explained our situation to the owner, and with true Chinese hospitality they invited us in.
A huge wood fire was soon blazing on their hearth, and I luxuriated in its warmth while my clothing dried out. A cu of hot tea was soon urged upon me, then hot sugar water wi chopped walnuts in it, and a elites Chinese meal was prepared.
In two hours I felt like a different person.