The herald. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1905-1953, 1918-06-13
THE wayfarer in China who
turns south TO Anglicized Hong
kong, multitudinous Canton or
thot vivid hvhrid nf East and

SdulOu Y
that vivid hybrid of East an
West, Shanghai, fails even TO brus
the strangest and most ancient my!
terry of the dragon kingdom. Tha
mystery lies In North China, an I'm
memorial mystery that wraps Pekin
like an imperial mantle, a sombe
northern inscrutability that enfold
the great wall as impenetrably a
the mists obscuring its turrets, write
Olive Gilbreath in Asia. 1t is a mys
terry so invincible that, once in
mans blood, there is little choice lef
him but to follow its lure on and on
seeking its source in that hinterlant
still farther to the north. From tn
Great Wall one can gaze far over thi
unknown land rushing swiftly ava.
to the north, not days but months b!
caravan-the great plain Of Mongolia
For the man gripped by this myster,
Of the northland, Kalgan, the border
city between China and Inner Mon
golia-fve hours to the north o.
Peking as the Chinese train crawls-
offers convenient point of departure
into Mongolia. Kalgan, lying at the
foot Of the pass, marks the end of the
ancient caravan route between Siberia
and China. Here all the wool and
skins from the North are unloaded
Here is quartered a Chinese garrison
against a Mongolian uprising. Here
MI &c
blue tent. From here go the Russian
overland mails. Here also are reload.
ed the strings Of camels for their re-
turn to the desert. Kalgan attempts
to collect itself between a river and
the pass, but for dust 1t might be the
desert itself. Small Chinese shops
crowding the main street, worn into
incredible ruts by generations Of cart
wheels, complete the suffocation-that
Is, IL the wayfarer be abroad In July.
Kalgan offers no inns and the foreign
er must beg friends among the scat
terng missionaries or claim the hos
pitality Of the British-American tobac-
co mess" But roof trees are wide
and high In those far corners, and the
hospitality Is Of heart-warming
quality, such as fingers in the memory
with a rare deliciousness.
You may ride into Mongolia as a
free lance on horseback If you are not
a pampered child of civilization. But
II you have degenerated through the
complexities Of life under a roof
unable to live on strings Of oatmeal,
cheese and meat, and unwilling to
sleep In a Mongol tent-you must be
consigned to a caravan or a litter.
Our equipages were least picturesque
Of all the choices-a small caravan of
Peking carts drawn not by camels,
which are among the possibilities, but
by horses and mules with a donkey
thrown In on the side for good meas
ure. The carts, larger than the usual
blue Picking carts and padded with
sacks Of grain and "rutaos" of bedding
covered with heavy mats, had been,
drawn up within the mud walls Of the
compound long before the first streak
of the July dawn.
On the Road to Urqa.
We are out Of the city now on that
white road which crosses the plain for
30 days to Urga and for 60 days to
Irkutsk-in dry months q bowlder-
strewn highway, in rainy months the
bed of torrent which rushes down
between the bluffs, carrying men and
luckless caravans before 1t. The as
cent is gradual, almost imperceptible.
Mud villages cling limpet-wise to the
bluffs, the doors leading into only bur-
rows in the hillside. 1t is a of desert
coloring as Is the desert sun, white hot.
But there is charm in that Pickering
monotonous road, like the charm Of a
peasant melody, and the call Of the
trail is in the air-"over the world and
under the world"
At "tiffin" we came upon one Of those
charming little genres" to be seen Of
ten on Eastern roadways. In the scene
were an inn, mud-walled, and a court,
also mud-walled, the entrance shaded
by a wide-spreading plane tree. From
the lower branches Of the plane tree
hung a bird-cage; beneath 1t, carriers
and coolies and hawkers Of thrushes,
peddlers and camel-drivers sprawled |
or lounged or squatted and smoked,
the blue Of Chinese garments lying |
exquisitely cool against the bronze Of |
Chinese skins in the chiaroscuro Of |
shadow, sharply demarked from the
glare Of the road. 1t stirred a strange
emotion in me; perhaps an early race
an ancient nostalgia for this
first home Of the human race. But
there was no water for our beasts, and
we must travel two II farther-two-
Thirds Of an English mile. There, in
the shadow of a doorway, we ate our
first trail tiffin surrounded by half
clothed men and not in the least
clothed children, who followed us en-
Past a little gray wayside shrine,
past tall mastli'se poles with their