From Peking to Mandalay A Journey from North China to Burma through Tibetan

The journey of which an account is given in the following pages was not undertaken in the special interests of geographical or other science nor in the service of any Government. My chief object was to gratify a long-felt desire to visit those portions of the Chinese Empire which are least known to Europeans and to acquire some knowledge of the various tribes subject to China that inhabit the wild regions of Chinese Tibet and north-western Yunnan. Though nearly every part of the Eighteen Provinces has in recent years been visited and described by European travellers my route between Tachienlu and Li-chiang was one which—so far as I am aware—no British subject had ever traversed before me and of which no description in book-form has hitherto appeared in any European language. From the ethnological point of view the Chinese Far West—to which the greater part of this book is devoted—is one of the most interesting regions in the world and presents problems the solution of which would settle many of the vexed questions relating to the origin and inter-relations of the Asiatic peoples. As for its geographical interest it may be sufficient to say here that the principalities of Chala and Muli contain what are probably the highest spots inhabited by man on the face of the globe and that several of the passes crossed by my little caravan are loftier than the highest of the passes existing along the route traversed by the British expedition to Lhasa. My own contributions to geographical and ethnological lore are of the slenderest; but if I can persuade some of my readers that Tibetan Ssuchuan and western Yunnan are worth visiting be it only for the glory of their mountain scenery I shall consider that my book has fulfilled the most useful purpose to which it aspires. For those who are seized by a craving to revert for a time to something like the nomadic life of our remote forefathers or to pass like the old Hindu ascetics into the homeless state there can be no country in the world more full of charm than some of the wilder and less-peopled regions of the Chinese Empire. There are enormous areas in that country covered with primeval forests in which mans foot has never trod lofty mountains whose peaks are crowned with sparkling diadems of eternal snow grand and savage gorges in which Nature has carved for herself in indelible letters the story of the worlds youth and gloomy chasms through which rush the mighty rivers that carry to the Indian Ocean and the Pacific snows that melted on the white roof of the world. And amid all this magnificence and desolation there are lovely valleys and stretches of garden-land that might have been chosen as the Edens of a hundred mythologies and which in historic times have been the homes of religious recluses and poets who like others of their kind in Western lands found in silence and solitude a refuge from the bitterness and pain of the world or a hermitage in which amid scenes of perennial beauty they could weave their flowers of thought into immortal garlands of human words.