Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1936-08-13
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Peiping, the Capital of Yesterday
Reached at Last

miles, strewn with countless is
lands, emerging at Shimonoseki,
crossing the Tsushima channel
and breasting the Yellow sea, we
arrived, about daybreak at the
port of Ta-Ku, China.
From flat horizon, like some
old man arising after hard night,
the sun, dulled of all luster, strug-
gled into the sky, mounting slowly
into the yellow haze that extended
to the very zenith. At six o clock four
barges laden with coolie stevedores
crept into the river and tied to our
starboard. In the art of delibera-
ton these gentlemen of the water
front rivaled anything I had ever
seen in other lands. That a ship
had arrived and was preparing to
discharge cargo seemed to make
no impression whatever upon any
body present. The tempo to which
/ had become accustomed in ia
pan was null and void at Ta-Ku.
Brick-Laying Jugglers
Some Chinese masons, evidently
part of a crew concerned in sus-
pending building operations across
the way from the landing dock,
sauntered into view and took seats
on a pile of bricks. After careful
scrutiny of the lounging dock wal
lopers and the indolent bricklayers
decided that the port was in the
grip of a building and shipping
strike.
At seven o'clock, the panorama
suddenly came to life, the static
spectacle, to all intents set for a
day of leisure, took on a vitality
all its own. While the native par
Elephants did not seem to alter ma
terially, every man jack of them
was drawn into the ponderous
movement, more amazing because
once under way there seemed no
stopping it.
The ship spewed cargo in a
stream; while from the river side,
two hundred coolies, with pan
shaped wicker baskets, tossed wet
nut coal from barges along a hui
man chain, through gaping side
ports, poured a flood of fuel that
slithered like rushing water into the
bunkers. No noise, except the rat
tie of the winch gears.
With the accuracy Of vaudeville
performers, four coolies, using
short handled wooden shovels,
tossed one at a time from ground
to second story geyser of bricks
that fell light as feathers into the
hands of the workmen above and
like magic grew into a wall. A
company of noiseless jugglers, and
every gesture artistic.
"Dust-Bowl'' of China.
Once off the lugger and my bag
gage on the Peiping-Muk train
that meets all steamers touching
at Ta-ku, I thought only of rolling
into the ancient capital where Mar
co Polo dropped in to pass the day
centuries ago. Whilst waiting for
call aboard" a somber cloud, re-
leased from the very dome of heav-
en-, began to settle upon the earth.
1t came first like a shadow of
brass, darkening as it moved, sti-
fling, oppressive, heavy as the ad-
vance guard of thunder shower:
Arrival of the dust storm, first in
Dictated in the yellow haze that
yelled the morning sky.
Into this shifting mass of land
acres of titled farm soil, drifting
across China pursued by gales out
of the northwest, the train rolled
as though it had been waiting for
such signal.
With no mountains between Ia
Ku and Peiping to balk the oncon-
ing cloud, no trees with enough
foliage to break it up, the invading
and advancing dust threatened all
outdoors. Here was I, in despair at
having turned up exactly at the
wrong time. But knew not the
mysterious moods that control Chi
ma, where meteorology, natural
causes and precedence fail utterly
to set the pace.
The Temple of Heaven.
After three hours by slow train
through this intolerable cloud, we
split what seemed to be the outer
curtain and broke into an atmos-
phere of crystalline purity that en-
veloped glittering landscape
shimmering in the garb of spring.
The yellow stains faded out of the
sky, soft, cool zephyrs took the
place of hot siroccos and cerulean
mantled the horizon, against which
I caught my first glimpse of the
Great Wall, winding like drunken
serpent across the hills that en-
circle Peiping, the capital of yes
terday, where the pomps and vani-
ties fiared under the dragoned BAN
ners of the Mongols and the Tar
tars, waned in the face of the adj
vancing Western world, dipping at
last their colors to Time, tn. arch
conqueror of all dynasties. Pei
ping, sacred to the memories of
the past, profaned by the corrod-
ing acids of the present, her splen.
dor dimmed. Forbidden City
showroom, the Temple of Heaven