At last she got up and went to my gramophone.
'Can you play some dance music?' she asked. I put on a slow foxtrot.
'Can you dance?' she asked. I said that I could.
I do not remember how long we danced, probably more than an hour. Like all the Tibetans and Nakhi, who come from remote mountain regions, she was a wonderful dancer. Not once did she miss a step or a movement. Since the music and dances of the Nakhi, Tibetans and Black Lissu along the Yangtze River are essentially Western in rhythm and execution, there was no need for any preliminary explanation or demonstration. She particularly enjoyed my boogie-woogie records and we jitterbugged until I was ready to collapse.
Finally she sat down and we had a few more cups of wine.
'You ought to come down to Lotien,' she said. 'Perhaps we could even be married,' she added nonchalantly. I pretended to be shocked.
'At my age!' I exclaimed. 'And with you so young!'
She brushed that aside.
'A foreign husband would give me a lot of prestige,' she continued. 'You would have a comfortable life and much money.'
I glanced instinctively at her good-looking knight and he gave me a dirty look.
'What about your knight?' I whispered, winking at her.
She laughed. 'It's nothing. He is only a friend,' and she rose to go.
'Well, I will think it over,' I said, not wishing to disappoint royalty. I escorted her downstairs.
'I shall drop in again.' She waved to me as the two ladies were helping her into the saddle.
I entered my general office. Prince Mu and Wuhsien, my interpreter and organizer, were smiling broadly.
'That was Her Majesty the Queen Awouchin of Lotien,' I announced proudly.
'I know her well,' said Prince Mu. 'She is a distant relative of ours.'
'Is it true that she is only eighteen?' I inquired. Both men laughed outright.
'At least twenty-six if a day,' they cried in unison.
'What about her husband?' I continued.
'She has just divorced her fifth or sixth one,' they said.
'And the soldier?' I asked again.
'He is clearly a candidate,' said Wuhsien, 'otherwise why should she drag him along.'
The next day I was surprised by a visit from the handsome soldier. He went straight up to my room, sat down and unwrapped a small leather pouch. Then he took two small moon-shaped silver sycees and laid them before me.
'What is that?' I asked uneasily.
'This is my present to you if you will lay off the queen,' he said simply. I felt I was becoming red.
'What do you mean?' I gasped, trying to control a burst of laughter.
'I love her,' he continued, looking me straight in the eye, 'and I hope she will choose me for a new husband.'
'But where do I come in?' I tried my best to get it clear.
'Well, she is serious about marrying you. She thinks a foreign husband would be an experience and it would add to her power.' He said it with conviction.
Now I was laughing so much that the people downstairs thought I had gone mad. I took the sycees and replaced them in the pouch. Then I handed it back to the knight and filled two cups with wine. I told him solemnly:
'My dear friend, I am not Adonis, and please do not consider me to be your rival for royal favours.' We took a sip, then I continued: 'I shall never marry your queen, not because she is not beautiful but because I do not want to spend my life in Lotien.'
He brightened up considerably, but still persisted in trying to give me the silver.
I conducted him gently downstairs. He came back yet once more in the evening and presented me with a jar of my favourite wine; but the Queen of Lotien never came back.
CHAPTER IX
THE BOA, THE LOLOS AND THE MINKIA
The aboriginal inhabitants of the Likiang plain were the P'ou or, as the Nakhi called them, the Boa. The conquering Nakhi, coming from the highlands of Tibet, scattered the P'ou and pushed them into the surrounding mountains, grabbing the rich plain for themselves. The Boa were very primitive, and it is said that they had even practised ceremonial cannibalism in the remote past, consuming their dead as a mark of respect. In comparison with the Nakhi they were little civilized, and possessed a mild inferiority complex. They did not like to be called Boa to their face, and when asked who they were, they almost invariably answered that they were Nakhi. Also, when mingling with the Nakhi, they were careful to see that they were not discriminated against in the matter of courtesies or etiquette lest an impression be created that they were an inferior race. Being mountain people, they always wore black semi-stiff cloaks, made of wool matting descending to just above the knee, and blue cotton trousers. The cloaks were of a perfect bell shape and I was always surprised on seeing the Boa approach, for they looked like huge moving mushrooms. For long walks they wore straw sandals which cost very little and were thrown away on arrival.
I had several friends among the Boa from Mbushi (Pig's Flesh) village in the Nanshan mountains near the place where I had met the robbers on the way to Likiang. One of them was a young man named Wuchang, short, stocky and fat with a face like the full moon. He was always extremely polite and very dignified and used to bring me every time he came to Likiang a couple of big turnips or rutabagas and a tiny pot of honey which he presented to me with the air of a grand duke presenting a diamond tiara to his duchess. Then he took ceremonious leave, went to the market to dispose of the rest of his turnips and came back in the evening to have dinner and, usually, to stay overnight. Once he came when I had a party of Nakhi friends to dinner. Somebody must have said something uncomplimentary about his being a Boa because he cried bitterly afterwards the whole night through and I had much difficulty in reassuring him that no offence was meant. He said he was much insulted by these proud town people. His greatest ambition was to invite me to his wedding, but, alas, I had to leave Likiang before it took place. But once, on my way to Shihku on the Yangtze River, I had to pass his village where there were no springs or streams and the only water they had was in the pools left after the rainy season. Wuchang received me in his poor dwelling as though I were a count and he a refugee feudal king who had to take a temporary shelter in this mean hut. Sometimes Wuchang's neighbours came with him to visit me. Wuchang disapproved of some of them and always whispered to me warnings to have nothing to do with them. I did not pay much attention but soon had occasion to regret it. A few weeks afterwards one of these undesirable Boa came in the evening, after the market, together with two friends. They looked primitive indeed as they glanced at me sideways like trapped animals. They all said that they wanted to stay overnight and would leave early in the morning. So I dined and wined them and led them to the guest apartment in the other wing. I gave them no bedding as the Boa and some other tribes-people always preferred to sleep on the floor, using their cloaks as blankets. Early next morning my cook rushed up to me almost blind with rage.
'Come and see! Come and see!' he gasped.
I entered the guest apartment. Our guests had already gone. All the walls were urinated through and through and there were 'visiting-cards' all over the floor. I never again permitted any Boa from that village, except Wuchang, to stay at my house.
In addition to the Nakhi, Boa and Tibetans, the Likiang valley and mountainous regions around were a hodge-podge of many other tribes, including the Black and White Lolos, Black and White Lissu, Minkia, Attolays, Miao, Chungchia, Sifan, Chiang, the most interesting of which were the Black Lolos and Minkia, who played an important role in the life and economy of Likiang.