CHAPTER XCVI 
SI-NING-FU AND THE DUNGAN REVOLT 
N November 23rd we packed up our baggage, a 
task which took a long time to do, so that it was 
midday before we got started for Si-ning-fu. We 
travelled nearly all day between soft, dusty hills of a 
reddish tinge, along a road worn down to a depth of 
twelve to twenty feet by the continuous traffic, so that 
all the time we were in a sort of tunnel, unable to see 
a vestige of the country we were journeying through. 
And for the most part the track was so narrow that it 
was impossible for two carts to pass. If two vehicles 
did happen to meet, one of them had to “back” until 
it came to a wider place. Every brook that cro.ssed the 
road naturally turned down it, so that the camels re- 
peatedly slipped and slid on the sloppy ground. As soon 
as the sun set, the water froze, and the road became 
-Still more slippery. Hour after hour we rode on, passing 
caravans, passing villages, crossing brooks. Twilight 
came on; it grew dark, — as dark as pitch. In fact, it 
was anything but pleasant to ride along a strange, road 
without being able to .see your hand before you. At last 
our guide stopped in front of a wall, pierced by a gigantic 
gate. It was Si-ning-fu. 
We thundered at the gate with our riding- whips and 
shouted to a watchman, who was perambulating the wall, 
rattling a drum. I'he gates of the city were closed early 
for fear of the Dungans. I gave the watchman to under- 
stand, that if he hastened to the Dao Tai’s yamen 
(palace), and requested permission to admit a European 
traveller, I would reward him well. He sent a messenger. 
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