Education Of a Wandering Man (1990) (18 page)

I have felt this way as well about the books of Joseph Rock, who made many Far Eastern expeditions for National Geographic.

The fiction of China is well worth reading.

Tso Hsueh-chin's Hung Lou Menq, known in English as Dream of the Red Chamber, is one of China's finest novels.

It is perhaps the best picture of Chinese life and society that one can find.

Outlaws of the Marsh, written of twelfth-century events and translated by Pearl Buck in a somewhat abbreviated version as All Men Are Brothers, is one of the most exciting. The Sidney Schapiro translation is the one I prefer.

Two Chinese classics which I liked very much were The Scholars and The Romance of Three Kingdoms, and I found the Travels of Lao Ts'an a delight.

The world with which Americans must deal in the future will no longer be confined to that small area called Europe, although its importance will continue. We must take heed of India and China, of Pakistan and Southeast Asia. The key to understanding any people is in its art: its writing, painting, sculpture. The people of China have ever been intelligent, inventive, and industrious, and if they can cope with their population problem, they will again be the power they once were.

Due to the narrow vision in many of our schools, few of our people have any knowledge of or appreciation for the culture of Asiatic nations. There has been a slight change for the better in recent years but our people are still relatively uninformed. Too many believe nothing was known of China until Marco Polo returned with his stories.

As a matter of fact, Seneca had made fiery speeches in the Roman forum protesting the adverse balance of trade with India, and the vast sums in gold that were being sent to purchase Indian goods. Some historians have even gone so far as to suggest it was one of the reasons for the decline and fall of the Roman Empire.

Certainly it was for some years a contributing factor.

There were several ports on the Red Sea coast of Egypt where ships were constantly sailing for India--at the rate of one per day in the 120-day sailing season, when winds were favorable. Ships in those days in most places did not come alongside a dock to discharge cargo, but were run ashore at high tide and unloaded when the water receded. At Myos Hormos, one of those ports, the old foundations still exist.

Ambassadors were sent by Rome to the courts of India and China, or in some cases people represented themselves as such. Troupes of acrobats and actors had traveled from Rome to China, and plays were performed in Greece using phrases from the language of Ceylon. And there is good evidence that an entire Roman legion sold its services to the Chinese and served as mercenary soldiers in many of their wars.

Nations are born, they mature, grow old, and almost die, but after some years they rise again, and we in this country, as in all nations, need leaders with vision. Too few can see further than the next election and will agree to spend any amount of money as long as some of it is spent in the area they represent. H. G.

Wells wisely said that "Men who think in lifetimes are of no use to statesmanship."

Now, with the vast distances of space opening before us, and the length of the journeys into outer space, we must begin to think in terms of generations and centuries rather than in years. Even with increased speeds and ease of travel, many of the exploratory journeys will be long.

It may also be important to consider trying to return some of the planets to livable worlds.

We have many plants on earth that live in extreme deserts or on the fringes of icecaps, surviving under seemingly impossible conditions. Such plants might be given a trial in likely spots--and leave the rest to time.

There is evidence that there once was water on Mars, and very likely there are ice caves in some of the lava beds, just as we have on this earth.

As I have said elsewhere, I believe that all that has gone before has been but preliminary, that our real history began with that voyage to the moon. Progress at first may be slow, but man will not be held back. There will always be those few who wish to push back the frontiers, to see what lies beyond.

As much time as I have spent in cities, walking and working among people of all kinds, I liked the wild country the best. Again and again I returned to the desert or the mountains, seeking out the lonely water holes, studying the wild life, learning to exist on the outer margins. Given paper with which to write and a typewriter, I can be happy anywhere.

When writing of the American West, we need take nothing for granted. Gunfighters, buffalo hunters, Indians, Army officers, and all manner of pioneers have told their stories, and not a few excellent books have been written by women or about women in the West.

During the Roosevelt administration the Federal Writers' Project sent out people to interview old-timers and gather what material they could. Most of this material lies in Historical Society archives, uncatalogued and unused. The interviews vary in quality, but some are excellent and most contain information important to history.

Joseph McCoy's Historic Sketches of the Cattle Trade of the West and Southwest is an excellent book and one of the basic books on that aspect of the west. J.

Frank Dobie's The Longhorns is another, but it is difficult to begin to list authoritative sources, for there are so many.

There are some years where my reading record is incomplete or nonexistent, but nonetheless I was reading, especially books that took place at sites I was visiting. My wife often says she has driven every back road in the West, and certainly she has driven many of them, roads often taken on a moment's whim.

Each was a voyage of discovery, offering new views of the country.

Little by little, I was finding my way into foreign literatures and finding them rich and rewarding.

Long before the appearance of samurai films in this country I knew their stories, and that, too, happened in a strange way.

One night in Kobe, Japan, several of us had come ashore. It being too late for me to seek out more interesting places, I was having a beer with my shipmates in the bar.

The owner (or perhaps the manager) was present, friendly, and seated with us. One of the seamen who had come ashore with us was a mean, disagreeable drunk, and for some time he had been muttering to himself about one of the waiters. After a moment he stood up and shoved him so that the man fell.

When the owner objected, the seaman hit him with what is often described as a bolo punch, a looping right hand to the groin, and the owner, a much smaller, slighter man, fell to the floor.

We all objected to what had happened and I expressed my feelings in no uncertain terms, so he attacked me. The man was no fighter and what followed could not be described as a fight. The seaman in question was foolish enough to throw a punch at me, but a wild one any child could have avoided. I did so and kicked his feet from under him. When he tried to get up, I pushed him down again and told him to stay until he could behave himself.

He did so, but about that time several very husky young Japanese men came in, and the owner later told me that, had I not coped with the man myself, those young Japanese were prepared to do so.

Finally, I let him get up and he went away, stopping at the door to say, "Some day aboard ship, I'll get you."

As I am writing this many years later, it is obvious that he didn't.

However, the brief difficulty led to a discussion of judo, kung fu, and the various martial arts. That led to a tour of some of the places where they were taught, and I heard for the first time the story of Musashi, said to be the greatest Japanese swordsman.

The owner was very well versed in Japanese history and several times in the next few days we spent time discussing the history of Japan, of bushido, * and what it meant to be a samurai.

* The code of the samurai, which stresses loyalty, obedience, and the valuing of honor above life.

The story of Miyamoto Musashi, as told by Yoshikawa in the Charles Terry translation, is recommended to those interested.

There is much material on the samurai period, and perhaps the best history of Japan is the three-volume study by George Sansom. Those who read these lines must understand that I do not claim to be an authority. I simply record what I have found to be interesting, informative, and historically accurate.

Although my time in Japan was all too brief, I did form some interesting contacts and was fortunate to find, in the bar owner, one who was versed in the history of Japanese martial arts, and in the legends of the samurai and the bushido code.

One thing I have discovered about research: Let people know what you are looking for. Often the best information will come from the least likely sources.

On one occasion when I was seeking information, and official sources had nothing to offer beyond a few sentences, the porter in my hotel introduced me to a man who had all the facts, and was one of the people whom I was investigating. Had I depended upon official sources or libraries, I would have left the country knowing nothing more than had been printed for years. As it was, a door was opened for me and I learned a great deal.

No possible source should be despised, yet I have known some very bright people who ignored any but official sources. I admit that careful checking is necessary, but often that is easily done, once the basic facts are known. In one case I wished to locate a ruined stage station. I was told there was no such place, only to learn from a cowboy eating hotcakes in the next booth that every cowhand in the country knew where it was. He met me the next morning, let the fence down, and guided me to the place.

Not only that, but he hunkered down on his haunches and told me his great-grandfather had helped to rebuild the place after it had been burned by Indians.

Amazing things can happen, and I know of a case where one individual has almost succeeded in changing history because of his strongly held opinions and his ability to convince others (two of whom have written books) that he is right.

In this case, this gentleman read accounts of the Hole-in-the-Wall in Wyoming, and when he found it to be other than he expected, he decided the facts were wrong. He had a mental picture of its being a small opening, while, as a matter of fact, the Hole is over a quarter of a mile wide with a good creek flowing through.

This was the Hole-in-the-Wall where rustlers drove herds of stolen cattle through and vanished into the country beyond, then drifted from ranch to ranch until out of the country. For years, no posse attempted to go through, as a couple of men with rifles up on the sandstone ridge could make passage impossible or costly.

Not finding what he expected, the gentleman ordered that a search be made; a difficult horse trail, over which cattle could hardly be driven, was discovered. This trail was used only a few times by the outlaws and at least once by Marshal Joe LeFors, who mentions it, and its difficulty, in his own book. But every old-timer knew the real Hole-in-the-Wall was the wide opening referred to above.

The authors of both books should have checked their sources more carefully. The Hole is the only real opening in the Wall for thirty-five miles or so, and the area beyond it was inhabited by rustlers or those friendly to them. (or if not friendly, in no position to make enemies.)

My careful study of the short story and how it was written paid off. As I had many stories to tell, I sold quite a few, although the prices were low and one had to write a lot to make a living.

My one wish was to make my work increasingly better, and here and there I tried to change some editorial beliefs. For example, for some ungodly reason it had long been an established policy that "y" be written in a western story as "yuh." This irritated me and I began to insist on "you." As my stories were increasingly popular, it was usually allowed to stand.

There has been comment from time to time, usually by people with little discernment, on the lack of sex in my stories.

It is very simple. I am not writing about sex, which is a leisure activity; I am writing about men and women who were settling a new country, finding their way through a maze of difficulties, and learning to survive despite them.

Sex in the time before World War I was a private concern, and there were, supposedly, only two places for it: in the bedrooms of married people and in whorehouses. A woman who transgressed was soon known and found herself cut off from society, accepted nowhere. If she did not become a prostitute, she lived on a back street, kept by somebody and isolated from most of society.

There were, of course, sad cases where women for one reason or another acquired a false label, and their lives were ruined by it.

Attitudes toward sex can change very quickly and what may be accepted in one generation is condemned in another, or vice versa.

My stories are not concerned with sex but with entering, passing through, or settling wild country. I am concerned with people building a nation, learning to live together, with establishing towns, homes, and bridges to the future.

Those unfamiliar with the world's literature might find it interesting to realize that sex, except in its romantic sense, has little to do with seventy-five percent of what has been written.

My greatest complaint with present-day sexual writing is that nobody seems to be having any fun. Sex is an ordeal, or it is rape, or an athletic endeavor. Only the French find it amusing--as it certainly is.