WESTERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE

August 18, 1875

BY REV. A. STRITMATTER

You may have heard of the Lee San range of mountains, lying ten miles south from Kiukiang. This remarkable range towers far above all surrounding elevations, and its isolated position makes it doubly conspicuous. The eastern base is washed by the Poyang Lake, while the western extremity terminates almost abruptly in a plain. The range is about fifteen miles in length; lying almost parallel with the Yang-tze River. The lover of nature finds the highest satisfaction in exploring its romantic scenery, and weeks might be spent in rambling among its peaks and precipices, and in visiting its wild ravines and waterfalls. It is a favorite resort for the foreign residents, by whom a bungalow has been fitted up for the accommodation of visitors, in the mouth of a deep canon, from which issues one of the large streams which collect their crystal waters in the mountain recesses. This bungalow is a real sanitarium, and is much in demand during the warm season. Other noted places are occupied by Buddhist temples, in which the pleasure-seeking or health-seeking tourist may find tolerable accommodations at very reasonable rates.

In December, 1874, being desirous of taking a four or five days' excursion before Winter should set in, I accompanied the Rev. A. J. Cook of the Mission, on a tour around the mountains. Nothing further was needed in the way of outfit than a couple of coolies to carry our bedding and provisions, and a cook to prepare our meals. We left Kiukiang late on Monday afternoon, accompanying a party of ladies as far as the bungalow. The distance being ten miles, the latter half of the journey had to be accomplished by the combined aid of the moon and our lanterns. The next morning, leaving the ladies at the bungalow, we set out on our circuit, following the base of the mountain in a westerly direction. An hour's walk brought us to Tai Ping Kung, or the Palace of Peace, where we found a temple and the picturesque ruins of two ancient pagodas or towers. Farther on we passed another tall pagoda on the right; and soon after, near the roadside, a small mill turned by an overshot water-wheel, the cheery music of which called up reminiscences of our home land.

Continuing our course until evening, we halted at a country inn for the night. In this part of the Empire, however, Chinese inns do not resemble taverns so much as pig-pens and stables; and the unfortunate traveler must be contented with accommodations inferior to what his beast would receive in a civilized country. We supped amidst cobwebs and filth, and slept on a pile of straw, the restless denizens of which spent the whole night in cultivating our acquaintance. During the next forenoon we rounded the western extremity of the range, and on emerging from a pass, came suddenly upon two little villages, cozily squatted in a large recess at the base of the mountain, forming a handsome picture. Now we were on the south side of the range, traveling toward the east. Passing through a large village, we reached, at noon, the famous temple of Kwei

Tsung, behind which, on a steep cliff, stood an iron pagoda. The temple was not large, but a new building was in course of erection, which will cost thousands of dollars. May it eventually be transformed into a house of Christian worship! We found in the temple a huge gilded image of Buddha, seated, like a gigantic baby, on a flat platform. On each side were two of his ministers, monsters in size and appearance, seated on benches, with one foot of each resting on the shoulders of the figure of a man. There were about twenty priests in the place, who were very clever and hospitable, assigning us one of their best rooms. They seemed very eager to talk with us, and there was no end to their compliments. "You foreigners are very bright," they said; "we Chinamen are all stupid." And indeed the ignorance which prevails among both the Buddhist and Taoist sects in China is most deplorable. We wished to visit the iron pagoda the same afternoon, but the priests said it was too far away, and we were compelled to wait until the next morning. So, while Mr. Cook was rambling about with the priests, I stretched myself out on the plank platform, which answered for a bed, and read Professor Tyndall's "Belfast Address," which had been awakening so much excitement in the scientific and theological worlds on the other side of this restless globe. Several hours were delightfully passed in reading this and other articles from the choice pages of Littell's Living Age, which I had taken with me to amuse leisure hours.

Thursday morning we were given a tottering old man for a guide, who seemed better fitted for riding in a sedan-chair than climbing to the top of the high peak on which stood the pagoda. One of the priests went with us, together with a servant to carry our overcoats. We were two hours in climbing to the pagoda, which had been hidden by clouds from our view when we set out. The peak on which it stood was isolated from the rest of the range, being perhaps two thousand feet in elevation, and only ten yards across at the summit. Two-thirds of the way around, the precipitous sides descended almost perpendicularly for several hundred feet. The pagoda was of seven stories, with a steeple, built on a foundation of stone, and not more than fifty feet in height. The facing seemed to indicate the structure was of solid iron, but we were informed that the inside was filled up with loose stones. There were six sides, and on each side in the several stories was engraved a figure of Buddha. On the lower story also were engraved numerous characters, which our limited knowledge of Chinese did not enable us to decipher. All the heavy materials for the erection of the pagoda had been carried up the steep and rugged sides of the mountain, at the expense of tremendous toil and exertion. And of what value was the thing when completed? Simply to regulate the Fung-shui of the adjacent parts of the valley below! Who can tell what fearful disasters have been averted by the presence of that turreted spire, seen for miles and miles around on its solitary peak?

Descending to the temple, and partaking of a hearty dinner, we set out early in the afternoon for Sin Fung, another noted temple only a couple of miles from Kwei Tsung. Here we found the ruins of what had once been immense buildings, almost hidden in a pretty grove of trees. A large mountain stream came out of a deep gorge behind the place, and on a very steep cliff near the head of the ravine stood the inevitable pagoda. This we resolved to visit before night, although our limbs were still aching with the forenoon's climb. A few rods behind the temple, just in the mouth of the gorge, we came

upon the loveliest pool of water we had ever beheld. It was inclosed by steep rocks, on many of which had been cut Chinese characters or sentences. The water was as clear as a Summer sky, and its blue depths revealed the pebbly bottom fifteen or twenty feet below the surface. The pool was perhaps the same number of rods in circuit. Pursuing our way up the gorge, we came to pool after pool of surpassing loveliness, though less in size than the first. Soon we were compelled to leave the bed of the stream, and to climb through thorns and briers, up steep hill-sides, without any path, so that we were thoroughly exhausted when we reached the pagoda. This we found to be as large as the iron one, but the scenery was far superior in grandeur. We stood at the head of the gorge, a frightful chasm opening directly beneath our feet. On the other side rose a rocky precipice some three hundred feet in height, from which the cliff we stood on had evidently been detached at some unknown period of the past. Down the steep sides of the precipice tumbled a little stream, forming a waterfall which can be seen at a long distance.

We threw some heavy stones over the sides of the beetling cliff, down into the fearful depths of the gorge; and after holding our breath painfully for a few seconds, would hear the thundering echo as it crashed upward toward us. As it was already late, we were forced to return; but in our descent we were fortunate enough to find the regular path, which from the summit to the bottom of the valley was entirely composed of stone steps, like the tiers of a stairway. We found comfortable quarters in the temple, and the priests, as usual, treated us with courtesy and respect.

The next morning my limbs were stiff and sore, but an hour's travel restored their wanted lubricity. We soon passed a third temple, larger and in better state of preservation than either of the others, and occupying a beautiful site. For thousands of years have the rites of idolatry been conducted in the numerous temples built around the base of this wonderful range of mountains. When shall the idols tumble from their hoary seats, and the King of kings begin his peaceful reign? These scenes are not devoid of historic interest, although the meagre records to be obtained are totally insufficient to satisfy curiosity. It is said that the founder of the Ming Dynasty, five hundred years ago, had his headquarters for many years on the south side of the Lee San range. A little before noon we came to a very celebrated Confucian college, known by the euphonic name of the "White Deer Grotto." It is situated in quite a romantic spot, surrounded by groves of trees, and is said to be frequented by as many as seven or eight hundred students at certain seasons of the year. The buildings are very numerous, with court-yards between them. The students' rooms are quite small, with very little room for furniture. In the main building we saw the tablet of the "Most Holy Teacher Confucius," held by a huge figure in black, while ranged on each side were the tablets of some twenty of his most noted commentators and disciples. We did not find many students, and those we saw did not do much honor to the memory of their sacred master. They were very inquisitive, and filled the doors of our little room to watch us eat. It was a filthy place, and we were heartily glad to get away. The "White Deer Grotto" is situated about a half a mile from the base of the mountain range, the highest part of which at this place consists of perpendicular precipices from five hundred to eight hundred feet in height. They are the highest cliffs of any part of the range, and present a very grand appearance. We followed the path which wound around the base of the cliffs, and a couple of miles from the college passed through a large village. Soon we crossed a stream, which had its source in the gorge, and visions of pools and waterfalls hidden in that wild ravine crossed our minds, and added to our anxiety to explore it. Leaving the road we climbed a little hill, in order to obtain a better view, and then it seemed so near that we did not hesitate long before concluding to ascend into it. Our coolies had not come up yet, and they would know nothing of our wild wanderings; but we made no doubt that when we got back to the road we could easily catch up with them. It was two o'clock, and we fancied we would not need more than two hours for the trip. So we struck up the valley at a good gait, following a rocky path leading past numerous water-mills and ruins of mills, which not many years ago no doubt, plied a thriving business along this mountain stream.

Soon we were walled in on our right by precipices which no mortal ever scaled, although they were small compared with those still before us. The ravine made a sudden turn to the left, and the precipices began to shut us in on the other side also. The path was steep, but otherwise not difficult to follow, although we soon found that we approached the head of the valley but slowly. At length the ravine narrowed down into a wild chasm between the cliffs, the bottom of which was strewn with rocks and bowlders of vast size. Among these the torrent tumbled and roared, and we were compelled to pick our way with great care. The path was soon lost, or rather came to an end, and there was no way but to follow up the bed of the stream, clambering over whatever rocks we could not crawl around. After climbing some distance we suddenly came upon a scene which perhaps no foreigner ever gazed on before, but the sight of which was worth the trouble of an entire trip around the mountains. The torrent came rushing down under the black precipices on our left, and just where they overhung it in the form of a half cavern, it tumbled into a large pool of almost frightful depth, hemmed in on the opposite side by immense bowlders. This water was as clear as if no speck of dust had ever soiled its purity; but the shadow of the cavernous sides over-hanging it, darkened the water so that it seemed fairly black. After another quarter of an hour of dangerous climbing, we found it was half past three, and that it would take a half hour still to reach the extreme source of the torrent, even if it was possible to reach it at all. As we were well-nigh exhausted, we gave up the idea of going any farther, and gazed around for a few moments on these weird scenes. As nearly as we could judge, the rocks on each side of us rose to a height of five hundred feet, without varying probably one foot from the perpendicular. The ravine was but a few rods wide, and at some distance above us seemed to terminate abruptly at the base of the precipices which walled it in. We longed to reach the place, but neither our time nor our strength would permit.

Reluctantly we tuned back, and in an hour were once more on the highway we had left. It was not far from sundown and our coolies had long ago passed the place. Notwithstanding our tired limbs we pushed forward rapidly, so as to overtake them as soon as possible. This we imagined we could do in a short time, as they were heavily loaded and could not travel fast; but we were disappointed. Mile after mile we left behind us; darkness came on, and still there was nothing for us but to keep pushing on. We made inquiries at the village, and were told that our men had passed through after asking for the "foreigners." Soon the road forked, and at the next place the people said

They had not seen them. This put us in a quandary; but we though it best to pursue the main road, and not lose time in hunting our baggage up, even if we had to go on to Kiukiang. This, however, was a serious undertaking; we had done a hard day's work in climbing and traveling, had had nothing to eat since noon, and Kiukiang was still fifteen miles away. But the only alternative was to stop at a Chinese inn and put up with the miserable accommodations it afforded. So long as we could resist any feeling of fatigue, this idea was intolerable; and we pushed rapidly on. By the light of the half moon, which shone through a layer of scaly clouds, we succeeded in keeping on the road. After two hours of hard walking, our limbs began to protest against further effort; and coming to a good-sized village, we resolved to see what accommodations we could obtain before going further. There was but one inn, and here to our unutterable satisfaction we found our coolies. They had naturally supposed that we were on before, and made as desperate efforts to overtake us as we had done to overtake them; but coming to the foot of a steep pass they were too tired to think of mounting it, and so halted at the last inn.

This inn proved to be the most wretched place we had yet found. We managed to live through the night, and in the morning got away as soon as we could. We had passed round the eastern extremity of the range the evening before, and now crossed the romantic pass of Wu Lin, the summit of which was only ten miles from Kiukiang. We reached home in three hours walking very fast. We had been nearly five days in making the circuit of Lee San range, having visited some highly interesting and romantic spots, but leaving very many others still unexplored.