Chapters Chapter 1, letter 7,234 Chapter 2, letter 7,235 Chapter 3, letter 7,236 Chapter 4, letter 7,237 Chapter 5, letter 7,238 Chapter 6, letter 7,239 Chapter 7, letter 7,240 The Yellow River Exploration
To my elegant Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR (year of thy reign), my 7,234th letter
According to thy will, I am embarking on another dragon egg hunt. This dragon egg hunt has taken me to the Far East and the Yellow River. Oh, how apparent that words will fail me in my attempts to describe the beauty of this region and its ponies. Our little group is fortunate to have an artist and I hope that she (Brush Broom) can capture the essence of this unique place. Other members of this little group include Jelly Bread (our cook), Calm Pass (our mapmaker), the sisters Gail & Gentle Wing – (our aerial scouts) and Sea Salt (our guide and ship master).
Sea Salt is an old hand at these difficult types of journeys and like his name implies, he can be a bit rough when delegating duties. Like the great ocean itself, he can be unpredictable, seemingly calm one moment and erupting in anger the next. Still, his competence is unquestionable in all things nautical and he has had limited encounters with the locals in this area.
The Wing sisters are nearly identical in appearance and voice, only with careful and long study have I noticed that Gail is a bit more mischievous in temperament. You can see it in the twinkle of her eyes. Their name – Wing – sounds so much like a local word, that they win acceptance among these friendly people, although the sister’s mane color – white – is a bit freighting in local tradition. I could only guess at the reception your colors would induce. Thankfully, Gail & Gentle have shown themselves to be excellent eyes, and as Sea Salt has called them “guardian angels”.
“Mr. Pass”, as we have come to call him, appears frail in appearance, but is anything but. Calm Pass also has some nautical experience and remains implacable to Sea Salt’s blasts of outrage. Yet even he becomes exasperated with local legends and descriptions, such as a small village referring to some local creek as the largest river in the world. Many times did we almost pursue the wrong course up some stream and into rocks.
Jelly Bread, our cook, is nothing special. Jovial under all extremes, his fare is simple and modest. He has been experimenting (on us) with some of the local dishes, sometimes to our regret. Still, he always does his work with a smile and never complains about a lack of anything, sometimes substituting local spices and vegetables with exceptional results to our delight.
I now understand your insistence on bringing Brush Broom with us, thank you for her, as her green eyes inspire the locals to treat her with reverence. She has also shown herself to be skilled in understanding and communicating in the local tongue. Her inclination to doodle and dally has also been influential in our dealings. The locals often mistake her lackadaisical attitude for disinterest and give up their advantage that we might have pressing business.
I find myself acting as our muscle, while I do also have nautical experience; the operation of this tiny ship tasks me with most of the heavy lifting (to my advantage). For example, when Mr. Pass or Miss Broom, Jelly Bread and I (acting as porter) enter a village to barter for local goods and information, we are able to gather so much local lore and materials that sometimes we gain the attention of bandits. Fortunately my size and bulk dissuade them from most actions. Saying goodbye until my next letter, with all my generosity, loyalty, trustfulness, humor, and kindness, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my gracious and charming Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,235th letter
In my previous letter, I recounted our crew, now let me describe our little ship. Basically white with teak trim dual mast ship, a single jump wide and about 2 gallops long. The wheel bench is large and accommodates 6 of us. The main mast is 2 & ½ gallops tall with an oak halyard or boom. The bow mast is 2 gallops tall and can run 3 bow sheets or jibs, plus a spinnacle. There is also a bow or forward hatch, directly aft of the bow mast.
From bow to aft, below deck is the forward cabin, which the Wing sisters and Miss Broom occupy. Next on the starboard side is our tiny head, directly opposite is a two berth bunk. I have the lower bunk and Sea Salt took the upper. Next, moving aft, is the galley table on the port side with the galley on the starboard, and finally the door hatch leading to the wheel bench. Beneath the wheel bench and beyond the door hatch is the ‘captains’ closet’. Supposedly a cabin, but too small for me, so after some discussion Sea Salt and I agreed that Mr. Pass should occupy it. Jelly Bread sleeps in the galley, sometimes on the table, sometimes next to it, and sometimes on the floor as when Mr. Pass needs the table to draw his mapping.
The sleeping arrangements are not written in stone, as we sometimes borrow each other’s more spacious bunks when others have watch duty. We maintain at all times two of us on deck, sometimes more, and I do try to avoid sleeping in the forward cabin. Miss Broom’s paints smell oily and rancid.
As we have no charts for this river, I am pressed into service whenever we become stranded on sand bars. My size and strength are sufficient to nudge, rock, or pull us free from such obstacles. Sometimes the locals will help as long as they don’t get wet. They fear the river and joke that I am a river serpent as they see me, up to my shoulders in water, pulling our little boat against the current.
However, for the locals, the further up the river we go, our little boat is the biggest thing many of them have seen. There are no bridges and trade between the river sides is restricted to small dug outs and rafts. I cannot hear it, but Brush Broom and Jelly Bread say that they can hear a small difference in the accent of the tongue between the river sides. Local river boaters (those who make their living on the river by boating) have confirmed this observation in hysterics. They now call us kin and are helpful with our inquires.
We fly your cutie mark on our main sheet or sail; we also have golden red pennants flying from the bow and main mast. At night we hang paper lanterns (a local tradition) off the sides of our little boat. The boaters soon surround us and join us in party, song and stories of lore. The last of which we find most useful. One of my favorites is of the five fingered black dragon and his love for tea.
I have been reluctant to tell you the name of our little boat, and I would have changed her name, if not for the legendary curse of changing the name of a ship. It pricks me a bit as I know or suspect that you may have difficulty with the name as well. Enough hesitation, the little boat came with the name ‘Midnight’s Lament’. We call her Lammy for short, and we hope the name does not foretell ill tidings.
In all my generosity, loyalty, trustworthiness, humor and kindness, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my brave and gentle Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,236th letter
Gail & Gentle have spotted an unusual and promising architectural structure. It may contain a nesting area for dragons. I was game to go it alone, but Mr. Pass insisted on coming with me. I hope I can protect him, and I have warned him that his best protection may be in hiding. From our conversations with locals we learned that the mysterious structure is guarded by a demon. Miss Brush Broom also wanted to come, but I block this, as it was too dangerous to risk too many of us on what may turn out to be nothing more than a relaxing walk in the hills.
Our walk inland was unmarred except for the astonished and fright feared stares some of the locals gave us strangers to their country. The countryside was quite beautiful and Gentle followed us like a flying shadow. As we entered the forest, Gentle had to fly lower on occasion to keep us pointed in the correct direction.
Rather than one, the buildings we encountered upon a small plateau were many, structures with extending tile roofs and paper walls. The complex was uninhabited, yet despite the extended time, weeds and grass had not taken over the area. Gentle joined us in our exploration of the structures, but as the day began to wane, I sent her back to the ship with orders that either she or Gail were to bring out some fresh supplies for us the next day.
It is comical that after all the days of sleeping in our tiny bunks aboard the little ship, Mr. Pass and I did not use one of the bigger halls for our bedding area. Instead out of habit, we slept in the tiniest cupboards and closets in what may have been the kitchen. My dreams that night were haunted by a fire that walked the complex. Mr. Pass was even more disturbed in the morning, so I gave him liberty while I continued my exploration of the complex. There was sum (not some) type of mathematical inconsistency in the layout of the campus and it tasks me for a solution. Gail arrived and encouraged Mr. Pass to relax by drawing on the paper walls. Mr. Pass (being no artist like Miss Broom) did know how to draw cats. Gail joined me in my explorations and we discussed if Mr. Pass should return to the ship.
Again, as the day waned, Gail left and Mr. Pass steadfastly refused. The cats he had drawn in the kitchen area were particularly good. We retreated to our closets and cupboards for the night and I was reassured as I could hear Mr. Pass snoring. Then panic gripped me as I could hear a screeching howl in the facility. In my anger at myself for my fear, my mind slipped into that place between dreams and waking up. In that sleepless dream I could see the fiery demon screaming as claws and teeth tore into it. The demon crashed through walls and buildings making its way toward the kitchen, and still I could not rouse myself to fight.
In the morning, I awoke with the memory of my cowardice. Mr. Pass was much refreshed. We left the complex sadly confident that no dragon egg would be found there. The buildings were untouched except for Mr. Pass’s cats. Gentle & Gail met us both for breakfast. Yet I too feel much renewed for the math of the place now feels correct. In this alone do I find solace for the cowardice of my nightmare.
With all my generosity, loyalty, humor, kindness, and trustworthiness, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
Author's Note
This chapter is actually loosely based upon a Japanese ghost story, that was a favorite of mine as a child. I included it because it does not distract from the Yellow River atmosphere and adds some information.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my brilliant and progressive Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,237th letter
Our rapid progress up the river is over. The rainy season has come and the river begins to flood its banks. The rice fields are being flooded and this renews them, as the local tell. However, navigating the river has become treacherous, without strong winds we make little progress against the current and so I despair of reaching the dragon nesting area with our little ship. Still we have much time and some diversions can be explored.
Once again, I play the role of porter, carrying Miss Broom’s painting materials. It affords me opportunity to hear more local legends of dragons. And for her, I think she enjoys being treated like some type of goddess who descended from the stars to grace the local villages.
Brush Broom has been doing what she calls a ‘study’ of white fishing birds. She calls them egrets. They walk in the shallow water looking for fish to snap up. Broom’s drawings try to capture the majesty of their stride and the balance of their fishing in the grand circle of life. We are amazed that she can use green paints to draw white birds. The effect is chilling.
In another series of paintings, she has a bird (not a egret she says) defending its nest against a tiger. The tiger pounces and claws at the air while the bird blocks the blows with her feet and wings. I would call these sequences some type of dance.
Another type of bird Broom is studying is the cormorant. This black bird reminds me of a raven because of its intelligence. They fish by diving into the water and swimming after their dinner. According to some there are many more on other rivers than the Yellow.
It is the fine grain clay or loess that gives the Yellow river color. At first when we came in from the sea, I thought I was imaging that the river was actually higher than the surrounding countryside. However, this was indeed the case as the river is depositing more loess here than washing downstream. Levees have built up on both sides to channel the flow and drop more loess which contributes to the bottom of the river being higher than the plains. Naturally, when any of the levees break flooding occurs, and sometimes the river changes her route to the sea. We are in an area called Shandong (or Henan) near the community of Jina; forgive me if my spelling is not exact. The local ‘official’ expressed dismay when he came to understand our intent to navigate the river up into the Bagan Har Mountains. He did warn us of cataracts, falls, and rapids. He graciously empowered us with letters of writ authorizing our attempt, but he doesn’t think we will get far. He doesn’t know about the special attachments to our little boat that Halter Zeppelin developed and tested with me. The official did suggest that if we made it past the Xiolangdi and Sanmen waterfalls, we should follow the Wei River toward Xi’an instead of the Yellow river.
With all my generosity, loyalty, kindness, humor, and trustworthiness, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
Author's Note
Loess is indeed a fine grain clay regularly deposited along the levees of the Yellow River. Chinese names come from a variety of sources and refer to actual places, although some no longer remain as the River has been dammed and modified by the PRC's industrialization of the area.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my vivid and magnificent Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,238th letter
We have arrived at the first cataract; Xiolangdi is anything but what we expected. We had hoped to use the air bags to lift the Lament over the rocks and rejoin the river. Instead the river’s decent is fractured into several smaller breaks and falls. Our ship floats in the air well, but is difficult to move, seemingly even slower to maneuver than when in the water. Winds prevent us from being a true airship and my earlier pulling practice serves us well. We don’t have the local onlookers here, not that there are none, but they seem to be avoiding us. Perhaps, to let us experience our embarrassment alone should we fail or perhaps because we are doing something impossible in their minds.
While we got an early start in the morning, I wish you were here to hold the sun in the firmament above for we need the light. Sea Salt is getting agitated with our progress and the Wing sisters seem flustered. If we make a mistake, we could be marooned here mid cataract. Gail & Gentle secretly wish for more pegasi as moving a ship is nothing like moving a cloud. I would be hard pressed to do this alone, but then I would have a smaller ship or maybe no ship at all. Using a wagon or caravan for this journey could also be done, but I am enjoying this adventure.
As night fell, we lite our lanterns and this made my work easier, but both Mr. Pass and Sea Salt started a long chain of disparaging complaints as their vision was reduced. Brush Broom was pressed into service carrying a lantern further up the series of cataracts to provide reassurance to the ship bound Sea Salt and Calm Pass. Many times did I have to encourage her to go on ahead to the next cataract. Her lantern did not make visibility better for me. Jelly Bread also joined her in confusing my sight but helping Sea Salt and Mr. Pass receive clearer description of the river course. With the appearance of the moon all our visibility increased and rather that stop halfway up the cataract we pressed on until confident or our achievement.
Upon finding a flat patch of river we harbored for the night. I stood watch alone for between the frustration and exhaustion of the others, I enjoyed the solitude. As the sun rose, Jelly Bread took the watch and was happy to hear we would take a liberty that day.
I awoke in the early afternoon, sore with burning muscles from my exertions the night before. Mr. Pass and Gail were on watch, Miss Broom and Sea Salt had sought out the local village, while the others were still sleeping their toils away. I decided to take a run; the local trails and roads looked inviting.
I found the run difficult but as my muscles warmed up, last night’s labors melted away. My hooves thundered down the path and reminded me of the annual events of the running of the leaves. The trees seemed to echo my sentiments even in this far off land and their branches whispered of the seasons to come.
Upon my return at dusk to the ship, I found her surrounded by friendly locals amazed at our ‘magic’ to surmount the Xiolangdi cataracts. Even more amazed were the Wing sisters to see me swimming after my run. I only wanted to wash the sweat off.
With all my generosity, loyalty, trustworthiness, humor, and kindness, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my splendid and bright Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,239th letter
Apparently we have caused quite the sensation. Our night time assault of the Xiolangdi cataracts is becoming the stuff of legend. A floating ship sails among the stars, and worse; the river serpent pulls the heavens with his strength. The Wing sisters, Gail & Gentle, are being called the twin goddesses of fortune and fate, while Brush Broom is some type of heavenly priestess. The locals are now reluctant to barter with us, preferring to make offerings rather than trade. Sea Salt put a stop to this, but now must do most of the bartering himself.
Our next obstacle is the Sanmen waterfall and our progress towards it challenges my previous intent to follow the Yellow and instead journey up the Wei River past Xi’an. Still to minimize local disturbances, charting the Ordos Loop will avoid more unfortunate legends.
Upon arriving below the Sanmen, we are met by a delegation from Xi’an. I suspect that a very observant unicorn among them has noticed that I am more than a normal pony. Yet, they remained discreet and gracious, even to offer to journey with us, but we can decline as our ship is crowded. They confirm that after the Sanmen the Yellow river goes northward into wilderness toward the land of the Shaggy Ponies.
The unicorn from Xi’an, with a name I cannot even guess to pronounce or write, is also interested in the guishi stone. He recounts the legend that the stone also rises and falls as the river does. This confirms my clues and my need to verify previous investigations. We have time to spare and Brush Broom’s paintings are well received by the delegation. They regret that we have decided to follow the Yellow instead of the Wei River.
We scheme to put the ship as close to the Sanmen falls before employing our lift bags. We spend a lot of time explaining this to the delegation about what and how we are doing this and that to set up additional rig & tackle for the transfer. It is late afternoon before we are ready, so we decide to wait until tomorrow’s sunrise. The Xi’an commission was a bit surprised at this, perhaps thinking that our magic or device needed the night. We allowed them this confusion as I do have a secret to keep about the air bags operation.
In the morning the Xi’an group served us a wonderful breakfast of local vegetables. They did not seem to be in any more of a rush to experience our attempt at the waterfall as we were pretending not to be. We inflated the air bags and the ship rose above the falls. There the Wing sisters and I pulled/pushed the ship to the upper level of the river. Sea Salt had the sails fully employed even before our lift bags were deflated. We all had concerns that the current of the river would sweep the ship over the falls before we could distance ourselves from it.
The Xi’an delegation complimented us on our success. That unicorn was appreciative, but I suspect that he is suspicious that we used magic to inflate our air bags, and as you and I know that the irregular operation does indeed use magic. My apologies for this lack of discretion, he must be perplexed as to who among us non unicorns can do magic or what magical item we might possess.
With all my generosity, kindness, loyalty, trustworthiness, and humor, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.
The Yellow River Exploration
To my glorious and magnificent Princess Celestia, in the 603rd YR, my 7,240th letter
How wonderful for you that you found my last letter so humorous. Clearly that was not my intent; however, whatever floats our boat is indeed a good thing. My choice to stay with the Yellow River seems correct; it has taken us away from the area of many curious ponies. We are well provisioned as well as warned that little in the way of trade will be available to us before the zoo (sic) gorge and beyond that Baotou. The gorge contains three difficulties – the Tianqiao, Longkou, and the Wanjiazhai.
The river has an abundance of sandbars and again I am pressed into being the river serpent. The pulling is harder but the current is easier. The Wing sisters cannot always spot these sandbars from the air so our journey is haphazard at best. The gorge was a delight to view and Miss Broom complained that she didn’t have enough time to complete her ‘study’. I will not mention in any more of my letters what I learned from the guishi stone or where it is. For how do I say this? The stone requested of me to keep it's/her/his secret. That is not quite correct, I am allowed to share the secret, but only with those whom I should.
We resupplied in Baotou, where another delegation from Lanzhou greeted us. They escorted us by the riverside all the way to Lanzhou. At the cataract of Qinqtong they too showed mild appreciation of our air lift devices. I do not remember if the community of Wuhai was before or after Qinqtong, but Yinchuan certainly is. Calm Pass’s maps will clear up my confusion later. We have seen many more of the shaggy ponies in this area. They are a tough and nomadic breed, fierce and independent. At Lanzhou we were treated like royalty for we had done the impossible, climbing the stairs (or cataracts) of Caxia, Bapan, Yanquo, Liujia, Gongho, Lijia, and Longyang.
The river had been getting steadily clearer, but we were totally astounded by the clear waters of Lake Zhaling and Lake Eling. It was here I had to leave the ship and continue my search on hoof. Gentle Wing, Jelly Bread, and Brush Broom joined me for the last trek. We met few on this last leg, but those we did were shaggy ponies, and they were quick to extend friendly smiles. The high elevation of the plateau made our journey cold. Miss Broom found this most difficult and it showed. She didn’t try to paint the scenery, confining her few studies to drawings and sketches.
In this open land of rolling hills, we could not hide our presence from the dragon pair I was seeking. Alas there were not five finger black dragons. I directed the others back to a safe location and cautiously approached the pair. They were quite polite and invited me to go back and get my companions to join them for tea. I complied, because even if this was a trap, there was little we could do about it. After explaining the reason for our journey, the dragons were sympathetic, but unwilling to part with one of their precious eggs.
However, they became more responsive when the conversation turned to the guishi stone and its mysteries. For the answer to the riddle of the stone, they were willing to part with one egg. They instruct us never to return. Apparently we have traveled to the land beyond the ‘weaving’ and the ‘cow heard’. We are unsure what this means, but we know to retrace our steps carefully.
I look forward to your next letter as we begin our long journey back. Our expedition members deserve some small reward for their indispensable assistance. With all kindness, humor, trustworthiness, loyalty, and generosity, Sum-po-neigh Knot Yew.