Of All The Places I Have Seen, Canton
Is The Most Overwhelmingly Interesting, Fascinating, And Startling.
"See Canton And Die," I Would Almost Say, And Yet I Can Give No Idea Of
All That Has Taken Such A Strong Hold Of Me.
I should now be quite
content to see only the manifold street life, with its crowds,
processions, and din, and the strange and ever-shifting water life,
altogether distinct from the land life.
The rice-paper pictures give a
very good idea of the forms and colors of the boats, but the thousands
of them, and the rate at which they are propelled, are altogether
indescribable, either by pen or pencil.
There are junks with big eyes on either side of the stem, "without
which they could not see their way,"* and with open bows with two
six-pounders grinning through them. Along the sides there are ten
guns, and at the lofty, square, quaint, broad, carved stern, two more.
This heavy armament is carried nominally for protection against
pirates, but its chief use is for the production of those stunning
noises which Chinamen delight in on all occasions. In these helpless
and unwieldy-looking vessels which are sailed with an amount of noise
and apparent confusion which is absolutely shocking to anyone used to
our strict nautical discipline, the rudder projects astern six feet and
more, the masts are single poles, the large sails of fine matting; and
what with their antique shape, rich coloring, lattice work and carving,
they are the most picturesque craft afloat.
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