MUKDEN, THE MANCHU HOME 



299 



choke man and beast, and 

 penetrate every crevice 

 and pinhole, until all the 

 •outer world and indoors 

 is an inch deep with gritty 

 brown dust. After the 

 summer deluges and dust- 

 storms there is a long and 

 bitter winter. 



A shabby dagoba, with 

 •crumbling images a n d 

 peeling ornaments, a 

 group of dilapidated tem- 

 ples up a mud bank, 

 and some new temples, 

 which have in turn served 

 as Russian and Japanese 

 military offices, and now 

 shelter the American con- 

 sulate, mark the way to- 

 ward the iron grille, which 

 replaces the tumbled- 

 down gate tower in the 

 outer city wall. Half way 

 to the gate of the inner 

 or Tartar city another 

 temple, whose gateway 

 and guardian lions are 

 islanded in a reflecting 

 lake after every rain, is 

 falling to ruin on one side 

 of the highway ; and, on 

 the other side, other tum- 

 bled-down temples show Buddhism in 

 its^ last decaying stages. 



A MANCnU SAMOVAR (SEK PAGE 302) 



picturesque; mukden 



One-third of Mukden's people claim to 

 be Alohammedans, forswear pork, take 

 many baths, and prostrate themselves to- 

 ward the west at every sunset ; but the 

 mass of the townsmen have no religion 

 at all, modern, material progress and for- 

 eign example having shattered the old 

 creeds and left neither hope nor fear in 

 their place, giving them no new code or 

 standards. "Better Buddhism than this," 

 said one despairing evangelist. 



Mukden, the permanent camp of the 

 all-conquering Manchus, is an epitome 

 of Peking — a smaller Tartar capital, with 

 a lesser palace in an inner city, with 

 ancestral tombs to north and east. It Js 

 a picturesque and fascinating place, its 



street crowds brilliant in color, and its 

 street signs the most bewitching and 

 fantastic decorations any Manchu can 

 imagine. 



There is local color to exaggeration — 

 color on the carved and gilded shop 

 fronts and street signs, color in the cos- 

 tumes of men, women, and children, and 

 color of the most violent, vivid cerise on 

 the women's cheeks, and on the peonies, 

 chrysanthemums, and sunflowers set in 

 bouquets at either end of their towering 

 "double-loop" head-dresses. When the 

 sun shines on an every-day Manchu street 

 crowd it presents the gayest carnival 

 scene. What it may be like in Mukden 

 streets on high holidays and great festi- 

 vals, I am ready to travel there again to 

 see. 



Mukden has its drum tower and its 

 bell tower like TVking; each keep a 



