ZOOM

A FEW days after my return to Shanghai, in 1908, I was on my way to Woochow on the West River, via Hong Kong and Canton, with a staff of three officers and two Chinese members of our office staff of tracers.

On our arrival at Woochow we found three large house- boats waiting for the party, also a guard of several Chinese soldiers to protect us, as the West River was infested with pirates. The boat I occupied was like the others, consisting of a large flat-bottomed hull with a house built on it which had a good-sized cabin forward of about 8 feet square. Next came the main cabin, some 10 feet by 9 feet, with a smaller cabin abaft this, with crew's quarters at the after end of the boat.

As all the cabins came under one roof, we were well protected from the rain.

When all was ready, the three house-boats were taken in tow by a steam-launch which took us to Nanning, the treaty port on the river above the section of the rapids I was called upon to survey. It was hoped that the rapids could be removed in order to enable steamers to ply up and down the river at all seasons of the year — really rather a fantastic idea.

The passage up the several rapids was most interesting, for the methods adopted by the man in charge of the steam-launch were very clever. Sometimes we took big risks, for the two main rapids were a succession of rocky ridges across the river, with narrow openings in them through which a very swift current rushed.

On arriving at Nanning I reported myself to the Commissioner, Mr. Moorhead, and he conducted me to the Chinese official who had requested the survey to be made, as it was important for me to know how much work I should do. When I found out that they had not the funds required for the large undertaking, it was only necessary for me to survey a certain portion of the river to show the futility of commencing work that would never be completed, as the trade on the river did not warrant it.

The parts I intended to survey were the two largest rapids, the Ban Tan and the Tai Tan. The Ban Tan (" tan" means "rapid ") was formed by three rocky ledges that extended across the river. The upper ledge had its opening near the right bank, the second ledge had its opening near the left bank, while the opening in the third ledge was about midway between the river banks, and as the width of each ledge was less than 100 feet, there was not much room to turn sharp round in order to go in the opposite direction. There is a considerable slope in the water rushing through the opening in the ledge. Notwithstanding these difficulties, in 1908 a very enterprising man, called Mr. Banker, had three motor vessels plying on the West River to Nanning, each of which carried about 80 tons of cargo in the hold, and some 100 passengers on the upper deck, on which there was also accommodation for four European passengers.

These vessels were manned by Chinese, and when in a rapid, men were stationed on each bow and each quarter of the deck with long poles, by means of which the vessel was turned round the sharp bends. Needless to say, these boats had flat bottoms. I travelled in one to and from Nanning, and had the greatest admiration for the skill with which the vessels were handled in these dangerous rapids.

You will readily understand that the removal of a rapid forming a 10-foot step — or difference in level of a river — will call for other works to make that river navigable after that step has been removed, otherwise another step will be formed above. As I have already mentioned, there were several large motor vessels plying on the river at the time I was there.

One afternoon, while standing on the left bank of the river just above the winter channel through the Tai Tan upper rapid, where the rush of water sweeps round a projecting rock, a deeply laden junk with a cargo of rice on board passed down river. This impressed me very much for the following reasons: The junk was a large one, her masts had been unstepped and slung on the side of the hull, as is the practice when bound down river in the neighbourhood of rapids.

She had been smartened up with oil, and her bow was lavishly decorated with red joss paper purchased for good luck from an up-river temple.

The crew of 16, with an oar apiece, were rowing their hardest to give the junk the required steerage way, while three men handled the long steering oars at each end of the stern and at the bow (the bow oar playing an important part in a sharp bend, where the junk had to be turned at right angles in the narrow channel of swift rapids). It was a grand sight to see the skill with which that large junk was handled, and to notice the sacrifice, made to the river dragon, of a puppy dog which was thrown into the river with a bowl of rice, as the junk entered the rapid.

Later that day, I saw the hull of that very junk piled up on a rock in one of the lower rapids a mile or so lower down the river, with her cargo pouring out of her, and the crew doing their best to save as much as they could in sampans. This was a pitiable sight. The rapid was one where the rush of the river formed a narrow "S," in which there was but little room to turn when a vessel was being swept through the rapid at great speed; the junk had to be swung first round a hairpin bend, and then a right hairpin bend, in very quick succession.

After I had returned to Shanghai and handed in my report, I made ready to leave for Harbin to take over the Sungari River Aids to Navigation from the Russian authorities, on behalf of the Chinese Government.

It was a job, I thought, that could be finished in about six weeks.

At this time I moved to a larger, well-furnished house in the French Settlement, which I took over from a friend going home. Being absent from Shanghai for ten months, my Chinese boy moved house for me, and on my return there was nothing for me to do: everything was in perfect order.





At the time when the Russian authorities were constructing the Trans-Siberian Railway, Harbin was made a base of operations, as from there the railway construction could be pushed forward in both a westerly and an easterly direction. It was necessary to mark the Sungari River so that materials arriving either at Vladivostock or Nicolaefsk could be brought to Harbin.

The Sungari is a shallow river, on which Harbin is situated 400 miles from its mouth where it flows into the Amur River at Lahasusu. The river is a very wide one in places, and in order to mark it thoroughly for day navigation some 700 transit beacons were erected, many of them in pairs, which had to be kept in line and were all bearing a consecutive number on a large wooden shield. The boats used were shallow draft- paddle steamers with high power; they towed large barges which carried the necessary materials. A railway connected Vladivostock with the Amur River at Harbarofsk.



I left Shanghai for Harbin in the April of 1909 at a time when the trees were still leafless, although small buds could just be seen; the farther north I went the leafier the trees became, and when I reached Harbarofsk on the Amur about a week later, the trees were in full leaf while the country was covered with snow and ice.

On arrival at Harbin Mr. Konovaloff told me that a small wooden paddle-steamer, the Chelgrin, had been chartered for me as she lay on the ice, and that an ex- Captain Eglit was stationed at the Sansing Shallows, 200 miles below Harbin, where he was engaged in lifting large stones from the bed of the river; that a motor-launch under construction at Shanghai was due to arrive by rail from Vladivostock, and that he had engaged another ex-Captain Predit, to take charge of the section of the river between Harbin and Sansing; that the railway authorities demanded an unreasonably large sum for the river aids; and that members of the Russian insurance companies were enquiring whether the aids could be maintained efficiently by the Chinese authorities. I had not seen any of the aids, as the ice on the river had been too broken for me to go along it, and the Russian authorities threatened to cut the beacons down if we did not pay their demand. There was only one way out of the situation, and that was, to make up our minds how much we could afford to pay for the beacons in order to maintain the aids as well or better than formerly. So the insurance companies were told this, and I then asked how much we could afford to pay for the aids. The sum named was about a third of that claimed. I said, "Offer that and say you can give no more," and at the same time asked for an English-speaking Russian to act as my interpreter, and proceeded to Harbarofsk, where a man named Hudiakoff had, until now, maintained the aids on behalf of the railway.

The drive over the ice-covered Amur to Hudiakoff's yard was exceedingly cold. I had only got a light overcoat, while everyone else was wearing a heavy fur coat and fur cap. After inspecting his three motor boats, my teeth chattering with cold, I asked him to take me into his house and give me a glass of hot tea, as it was too cold to talk business outside. Seated in a warm room and thawed by the hot tea, I felt better, and opened up the subject by telling him, through my interpreter, that I would buy one of his motor boats if he would bring her to Lahasusu as soon as the river was free of ice, and that I would be there to meet him. I then picked his brains, and by the time I left had all the information I needed and, what was most important of all, knew the size of the poles used for the beacons.

As I drove back to the hotel I felt much happier than I had been before.

My next task was to find another ex-captain whose address had been given me. Having found him I engaged him, and arranged that he should travel to Sansing by the first steamer and bring his motor boat in tow, the purchase of which had been arranged by Konovaloff. I then returned to Harbin by rail.

On the opening of the river, to my horror the water rose in the old Chelgrin as high as the water around her.

Predit, who accompanied me everywhere, was not at all disturbed; he always had a remedy for every trouble.

"We require three casks of Portland cement," he said.

When this was delivered the cement was sprinkled all over her inside, with the wonderful result that we were able to pump her out next day, when she floated.

She was then loaded with stores and I provided myself with a large amount of paper money, tucked away in a silk bag and slung on my chest — for Manchuria is not a place where one can carry money about openly.

Many men have been murdered for far less sums of money than I habitually carried about with me to pay the staff.

All was ready in good time, and we left Harbin with the first batch of steamers doing down river. There was still a lot of ice about, and a lump caught one of our paddle-wheels and bent its iron frame. The vessel was tied to the bank, the forge and anvil landed, the defective parts removed and straightened, and we were off in less than no time. When we came to a stopping-place to buy wood for fuel, as there was no coal in these parts, many large stern-wheel steamers lay there, from which Chinese passengers streamed like ants over the snow-covered countryside. One wondered how so many people managed to crowd on board. These particular Chinese were from Shantung and came every year to work in the Siberian coal mines and to do other jobs during the summer season.

In those places where the banks were flat, the first rush of water had risen above them, removed the snow and deposited huge blocks of ice which looked very strange among the bright green grass. We had to anchor near the shore for some reason or another, and as the current was strong our anchor would not hold us. There being no trees about, a boat was landed with a wooden post to which we secured the vessel.

The men tried to dig a hole with a pick-axe, but the pick made no impression on the ice. Although the ground was frozen, yet the curious thing about it was that it was covered with bright green grass, which just shows the power of vegetable life to resist cold.

At Lahasusu we were all entertained by the Chinese officials, who put up a splendid feast and produced many luxuries only obtainable in Southern China.

There were several shops, and one would never have imagined that there had been no traffic on the river during the past six months.

In due course Hudiakoff arrived, and I sent him to Sansing with his motor-launch, accompanied by the Chelgrin, putting up with the Customs officer of the port.

In due course the other ex-captain arrived in a steamer with his motor boat in tow, and I took passage by that steamer for Sansing, from which port I started the season's operations. I placed the ex-captain engaged at Harbarofsk in charge of the river between Lahasusu and Sansing, with Hudiakoff's motor launch for him to live in, providing him with a junk to tow astern, to carry a gang of men, spare beacons, oil, paint, etc. and handed over the motor boat that had been procured from the Harbarofsk ex-captain to Captain Eglit, with all necessary supplies for him to administer the beacons that marked the middle section adjacent to Sansing, known as the " Sansing Shallows."

This section was only some 16 miles in length, but was the only rocky section of the river with a zig-zag channel through it, which necessitated many pairs of transit beacons to define it. Having done this, I returned to Harbin in the Chelgrin, and found on arrival that the motor launch that had been built at Shanghai had arrived, and was on two railway trucks in a siding near the river. Here Captain Predit came to the fore and skilfully lowered the launch from the trucks and launched her safely in the river. I mention this incident, as there were no means of lifting the heavy launch, fitted with her engine, a large after-cabin in which a European had to live, and quarters for her crew of five or six, including a Russian engineer. Captain Predit managed to do this with a large number of railway sleepers that I had managed to borrow from the railway.

They were stocked there for the double-track railway line across the bridge that spans the Sungari at Harbin.

The motor launch once in the water, Captain Predit was placed in charge of the River Aids to Navigation between Harbin and Sansing Shallows, and was provided with the motor launch and a barge to carry his workmen and materials. When all was going at full swing, I handed the aids and staff over to the Harbin Customs Master, whose duty it would be to control them on behalf of the Chinese Government.

While at Harbin I got to know a Chinese official, a Tao-tai, named Alfred Sze, who afterwards became Chinese Ambassador in both England and the United States. Mr. Sze was a most cultivated and charming man, who spoke perfect English and French, and at whose house I met the Governor of Kirin, which was an important city in Manchuria, situated a long way up the Sungari River. This official called upon me to discuss the making of a survey of the Sungari above Harbin, with a view that it be marked for steamer navigation, in the same way as the river below.

I told him that a survey would serve no useful purpose unless his Government was prepared to spend many millions, for the river passed over very rocky ledges near Kirin and flowed down a sandy slope to Bodene, where it forked. As the Chinese authorities wanted to make some show, I told him how much a survey would cost per mile, and he told me to go ahead as it was not too much to pay to save their prestige.

The survey was made during the next summer season.

I found Harbin a delightful place with Konovaloff as my host. I lived at his house during my stay. It was bitterly cold when I left in December, and I was much impressed at the send-off I received. Mr. Sze, and the Manager of the Chinese Eastern Railway, Konovaloff, with his deputy, and a number of his office staff, the Harbour Master, with members of his staff, Captain Predit, and many others, were all standing on a bitterly cold exposed platform to bid me farewell.

From Harbin I went to Peking to hand in my accounts in person, for there was not a large enough staff at Harbin to deal with them in the usual official manner, and I had to submit them, as I was the person responsible for them. Sir Robert Bredon was now the Inspector-General after the retirement of Sir Robert Hart.

The spring of 1910 saw me at Harbin once more with a party of officers to make the required survey.

We were provided with two large junks I had bought and fitted out as house-boats.

Before detailing my staff, under the very able direction of Mr. Mills, I had hired an open junk at Bodene, the highest point of steamer navigation, after having been put up at the residence of the steamer agent, with an English-speaking Russian Customs House officer, and my Russian-speaking Chinese servant. No covered-in boats were procurable in which my party could go up the river. To protect ourselves from the rain I had fitted a roof of bamboo mats, and when all was ready and I had obtained two soldiers as guard, I bade my kind host and hostess good-bye, after asking them how much I owed them for their hospitality; being Russians, they told me that I owed them nothing.

However, knowing the ways of the country, I put some notes in an envelope which I dropped before a little child who was playing in the garden, and passed on out of the gate. We had not been on our junk long before our host turned up to thank me for the money.

Once I had to see a Russian doctor, but before going I asked my friends how much I should pay him and in what way, as Russians do not render an account or tell the patient what the fee is. They told me the amount due, and that I must not hand him the money, but must place it in the palm of my right hand, and let it slip into the doctor's hand as we shook hands when I left.

After sailing up the river for some distance, the wind failed us when we were near the left bank, so our crew had to track the junk. On nearing a large village our two soldiers attempted to jump on to the river bank with their rifles in their hands, which annoyed me very much, so I pushed them back into the junk, for we were off a hunghutzu or bandit village, containing hundreds of armed men who might think that we were defying them with our armed soldiers. Luckily for us, the wind freshened and we managed to sail away, but before we had gone far, several rifle shots were fired at us.

Further on up-river the wind died down altogether on a beautifully fine day. This time we were near a sandy islet. As my watch had stopped, and I reckoned by the sun that it must be nearing noon, I set it going, and choosing a bit of flat sand managed, with some sticks, to set it right to apparent time. While on the island I was much interested in a lot of Manchurian ponies which were being driven by several mounted Chinese herdsmen, who had to ride hard to round up some of the straying beasts.

Higher up-river again it was full calm one afternoon, and the flat-bottomed junk we were in was resting against the shore. During the night it came on to blow and our boat being on a lee shore her bilge rested against the river bank, and the ruffled waters being disturbed by the wind, splashed against the weather side of the boat and dripped on to us through our roof of matting, making us very wet. We had no means of moving the junk out into the river, as it had no anchor. The only thing to do was to push something out for the sea to break against, instead of the boat.

Remembering that the crew had gathered a large quantity of bushy green stuff and placed it in the fore end of the junk, I collected this, tied it up in bundles secured by rope, and put it over the side. This did the trick all right, as no more water came on board after that.

A strange mode of travel in China is by wheelbarrow. The wheel of a Shanghai wheelbarrow is about four feet in diameter, and its axle is fitted into the middle of the conveyance. There is a wide shelf on each side of the wheel, which is protected by a framework of crossbars. The shelves are used as seats when passengers are carried; and as the whole weight of a load rests on the wheel, very heavy loads can be carried. I have seen twelve Chinese women with bound feet being taken to the mill at which they worked, on one wheelbarrow pushed by one man.

When the load consists of bamboos, a huge bundle is placed on each side of the wheel, with the large ends of both bundles secured together forward, the small ends projecting a long way out on either side of the wheelbarrow behind the man; so that when turning a corner the radius of the off ends is considerable, especially when the load consists of bamboos 25 feet or so in length.



When being driven home to lunch one wet day, we had to turn a corner at the same time as a wheelbarrow heavily laden with long bamboos. My coachman miscalculated the radius of the outer bamboos, which caught in the near back wheel of my brougham and upset the wheelbarrow. The clatter of the bamboos frightened my pony, which bolted. There was no one about at the time, but when the pony had been brought to a standstill a large crowd had collected from goodness knows where. One man stepped forward saying, "My savvy that belong Mr. Cubitt brougham, my have painty," and sure enough I had some months previously bought the brougham from a Mr. Cubitt. The man owned some carriage works, and as the back axle of my brougham had been bent by the collision, I there and then handed it over to him for repairs, while he provided me with another carriage which I could use during the time mine was in his hands. I then walked home and was driven to the office after lunch in the substitute brougham.