As a
doctor, I prepared a small pack of medicine. For at least three days of journey on mountains, these supplies would not be adequate. But the simpler the better, so we might appear to be zhiqing returning to the farm, thus avoiding suspicion of the police and militia. Hunger, thirst and fatigue were inevitable for every-one fleeing to Hong Kong, not to mention the dangers and accidents.Yonglie aske-d if anyone knew someone in the zoo and could get a pack of tiger du-ng. We mig-ht carry it and if the border guard’s police dog smelled it, the dog would dar-e not move or bark. At that time the price of a pack of tiger dung had been pus-hed up to one to two hundred yuan (equivalent to the wage of an ordinary worker for three to six months), but we knew nobody at the zoo. Yonglie also said that it was wise to purchase medicine for snake bite and a compass, but we could not find them. It was said that those things were banned from sale. A few days late-r, everything was ready; we started our journey aware of our family's anxiety a-nd expectation. The three of us took an afternoon bus from Guangzhou to Zengche-ng. The wife of A De, our farm contact, met us at the bus station, but did not say hello, only hinted to us with her eyes. We followed her, staying a short di-stance behind. After about half an hour, we saw four persons from the farm comi-ng, A De’s wife slightly turned, made a gesture and left by another road. We s-even people met and pretended we were returning to the farm, talking and laughi-ng. Although we had entered into the border "third zone" of Dongguan County and might be intercepted by the militia at any time, I was not very nervous but did-n’t know why. I learned that A De had two children, so I asked: "Leave your wi-fe and children alone, only you to flee to Hong Kong, don’t you worry?"A De sa-id helplessly: "No way! Only a few meals can we eat well in a year, what can I do if not to break through a way out?" Another farm zhiqing told me that his gr-andfather used to be a rich man in their hometown. There was not much land allo-tted to their father’s and uncle’s families, but still they were classified a-s landlords. At the time of fiercest struggle of the land reform, almost every day one of his family members was tortured to death. He and his brothers and si-sters were still young, but their sufferings during those days were too many to mention in a couple of days. When the government called for "supporting the rur-al construction" (Later it was renamed “zhiqing go to the countryside”), they took part in the first group, hoping that the new environment might be better. Unexpectedly, the situation was the same on the farm, with class status determi-ning treatment. They not only had to do hard or dirty jobs, but also be vilifie-d as "sons of a bitch.” No choice, they had to break a way out. We were still walking along. On the left hand side separated by a few fields, a group of prod-uction team farmers were farming. They seemed suspicious that we were fleeing t-o Hong Kong. After muttering among themselves, a man questioned loudly: "Where are you going?" A De resoundingly answered: "Back to the farm." "What farm?"
"Shuguang (Dawn)". A De answered a farm in Bao-an County. The person no longer a-sked. The Mountain Journey Entering the border third zone, we did not encounter pedestrians along the way, just occasional passing bicycles or cars. Nearing su-nset, the seven of us kept going. When we turned left just after a hill, Yongli-e noticing nobody in front or behind, immediately beckoned everyone to slip int-o the mountains quickly. I had not caught the signal, but followed Yonglie into the mountains. Yonglie led me to a pit and we both lay down halfway; each of th-e other five also found a place to hide. I felt a little strange but curious an-d forgot fear. Yonglie whispered to me that some farmer might come to pick up
firewood after work, so we must hide until dark, and then began our journey. It was getting dark. Yonglie put his finger to his mouth and gently blew twice lik-e bird’s chirps. There were two responding chirps immediately nearby. This was the signal they had arranged beforehand for mutual communication, also for help-ing each other get together in case of being dispersed by the militia. Now we w-ere pleased to reunite. Yonglie first specified a peak of mountain in front as our target, then led us straight ahead, no matter the ground condition. The ter-rain fluctuated; in case of a pit or trench we squatted and slid down; if a ste-ep slope, we climbed up with our hands and feet; when tired, we rested awhile a-nd ate some dry food or took a mouthful of water. After midnight, we reached th-e peak, and immediately were surprised by a dim blue and white light projecting into the sky in the distance. Yonglie said it was from Hong Kong. The high moun-tain in front of the light was the Wutong Mountain  the junction of mainland Ch-ina and Hong Kong. On the left a dark yellow light was from Sha Tau Kok, a smal-l border town. Hearing this increased our confidence greatly. Yonglie directed us toward the blue and white light, identified the next peak or ridge of the mo-untain, and we started to descend and then go up that mountain. Usually when we went down to the midpoint of one mountain or up to the midpoint of the next mou-ntain it would be dawn, so we found a place to hide and rest until dark. In tha-t manner we usually could walk over a mountain in one night. He estimated on th-e third night before dawn we could reach the Wutong Mountain boundary, and awai-t an opportunity to pounce on the barbed wire entanglement. As we descended to the midpoint of the mountain, it was getting light, so each of us found a place
-to lie down and rest. Yonglie and I hid together in a dry ditch. We laid a piec-e of plastic cloth and took turns sleeping. The ground beneath the plastic clot-h was rough and uneven, but we each managed to sleep for a while. When we awake-ned and found nothing unusual around, we stood up flexing and stretching our mu-scles and ate a bit. We talked in low voice about our trip that night and the n-ext day. Suddenly we heard footsteps from the up the trail, so quickly lay down and watched nervously as two people approached. It was a man and a woman in the-ir 20s, wearing work clothes similar to ours. Each carrying a bag, they quietly hurried down. It turned out they were "pawn fellows"*! Not militia. We sighed with relief and watched them to go.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
* Cantonese usually called fleeing to Hong Kong as "dut the pawn", meaning that a "pawn" in chess once being "dut" (Cantonese, to push lightly with the fingert-ip) across the boundary river and became "a pawn crossed the river” with the power greatly increased. There is a saying in chess circles that "a pawn crossing the river acts as a rock.” "Pawn fellow": the person who was also to flee to Hong
Kong.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
We whispered about "pouncing on the barbed wire entanglement" when we reached th-e boundary and longed for success in reaching Hong Kong. It was not easy to wai-t until dark. Yonglie imitated bird chirps twice and called the company togethe-r to descend. Down the mountain was a small valley with three to five scattered farmhouses. Nearing a hut we suddenly heard a loud bark, then immediately
 barks from other dogs in the distance echoed. A man yelled and another man not far away shouted in response. We were panic-stricken and rushed back up the mou-ntain. Although Yonglie directed us to tay together and follow him, we were ham-pered by the dark forest and uneven ground. I could not watch my step and at th-e same time keep up with him. So I fell behind. When the shouts and the barks
 were no longer heard, I found myself alone. Not able to imitate the bird chirps I tried softly calling. No response but only leaves rustling in the wind. Alone in the dark forest, what could I do? Fear seized me. Soon I came to my senses: There was no retreat because I did not know how to retreat, only to go forward. If I scaled the peak of the mountain, looked at the distant blue and white ligh-t, focused on the next ridge of the mountain, went down and up, then down and u-p again, I finally would reach Wutong Mountain. I was single-minded and told my-self: Go! But I lost my orientation and the route toward the Wutong Mountain. W-ith no compass, what could I do? Fortunately, when I was a teenager I read popu-lar astronomical science books and knew that the Pole Star is a very good orien-tation star. I went to a slightly open place and looked up to search the sky, e-spied the Big Dipper and Pole Star, then turned south and found the previously specified ridge. Walking towards the ridge, suddenly I saw two figures walking at the left front and toward the ridge. I was taken aback, but immediately reco-gnized Ho Ping and the farm fellow "Big Guy”. I hurriedly whispered to them. T-hey were startled, turned around and saw me. We spoke delightedly in muffled to-nes. I asked about my companions but they didn’t know. All were dispersed! We felt sad but agreed to join forces. We ascended the peak of the mountain toward the light, selected the next ridge, and moved on. Big Guy told us his father wa-s a brigadier of the Kuomintang army, a subordinate of General Xue Yue. He part-icipated in the battle for protecting Changsha during the War of Resistance aga-inst Japanese Aggression and returned to his hometown after an injury. His fath-er was ideologically "progressive" and often secretly protected the underground Communist agents. His elder sister was influenced by her father and participate-d with the Communist guerrillas. She was once almost caught by the Kuomintang a-nd had a narrow escape by hiding in a two-layer wall. After “liberation,” his father initially was honored as a democratic personage. Soon the land reform be-gan; the father was re-classified as a bureaucrat landlord. One day previous to his pending arrest, the father got a tip-off from a Communist officer who had b-een rescued by him and he hurriedly fled to Hong Kong on a small boat. But the officer from the north who presided over land reform arrested Big Guy’s elder halfbrother and he was shot. "What did they do wit your elder sister who had pa-rticipated in the guerrillas?" Ho Ping asked."She was purged out too; at firs s-he worked in a printed clothes company (established specially to sell the surpl-us printed clothes from the Soviet Union at that time), later was expelled to t-he countryside," Big Guy answered."You will meet your father in Hong Kong soo--n,” I said."He is aged, alas!" Big Guy sighed, sick at heart. Before dawn, we h-id and rested. Ho Ping and I were in one hollow, Big Guy was in another place.
We napped for a while but suddenly were awakened by a noise in distance. It was past noon, we looked in that direction with alarm. An adult and a child were cm-ing down from the mountain. The adult was a farmer about 50 years old, carrying a bamboo pole and a basket on his right shoulder; the youngster was about eight with a portable basket, following behind the man. They came toward us. Then we
noticed that on the left side not far from our hiding place was a small trail, a-nd the two persons went along the trail and down the mountain.We held our breat-h and stared at them. About three meters away from our hiding lace, the man gla-nced in our direction and his voice suddenly became lower; the child was unawar-e of anything and still talked loudly. They passed not far from our hiding plac-e and went down. Ho Ping and I looked at each other, temporarily relieved. How dangerous! Would they report to the militia? Anyway, we must move right away. W-e called Big Guy and we all moved to the left, far away from that trail, finall-y stopping in a dry gully in a dense jungle. We now gave special attention to o-ur surroundings which had no trail. There we could hide with less danger of dis-covery. We whispered that surely the man had seen us but didn’treport us to th-e militia. Otherwise the militiamen would come rounding us up. We felt a little comfort. Big Guy told us that the militia and farmers in the border zones who c-aught persons fleeing to Hong Kong would be rewarded a few workpoints or a bonu-s. Mostly it was Party members or activists who would snitch but the ordinary f-armers tolerated it or even had sympathy. In fact, most young and middle-aged p-eople in border areas fled out,and most families had relatives in Hong Kong. It was getting dark so we started to go down the mountain. Suddenly we heard someo-ne playing a flute from afar. We were dumbfounded and listened carefully, the s-ong went slowly and softly, as if soothing or admiring, which was entirely diff-erent from the popular "revolutionary” songs. What person at this time would d-are to play such an “out-of-date” song? Would it be a standing militiaman? We quickly squatted down until the song stopped after a while. Not hearing anythin-g further, we continued carefully down the mountain. Approaching a big tree, we were surprised to find that a large piece of bark was freshly scraped off. Unde-r the dim light we recognized two columns of engraved characters: Zhang X fleei-ng to Hong Kong passed by here. X Year X month X day. It was today! Most probab-ly it was engraved by the man playing flute shortly before. We could not help b-ut chuckle in low voices. We fugitives never expected to encounter such a learn-ed and refined person! Still going down the mountain then up another, we saw th-e blue and white light far away in Hong Kong. Before us was yet another mountai-n. Everyone was tired and hungry, and there were not much water and food left, but nobody knew how many more mountains we had to scale! Suddenly a mighty gust of wind howled through the mountains and trees. Then the rain crackled down. We hurried to stretch out the plastic sheet over our heads. Soon water poured into the hollow where we were, forcing us to hold up the plastic sheet and move to a higher spot. Fortunately the shower came and went quickly; before long it was s-unny again. But our pants and shoes were soaked. Looking at the wet terrain aro-und us, we thought of taking the opportunity to refill the water bottle. We wal-ked a distance along the gully but found not a single puddle. Suddenly the soun-d of a hubbub came to us from down the mountain. Frightened, we hurried into th-e thick bushes. The noises came closer and closer, and it seemed to be from a g-roup of kids. Soon a boy ran shouting toward our hiding place. Our hearts seeme-d to jump in our throats and we didn't even dare to take a breath. The boy stop-ped on the trail on our right, across the gully just two meters away from us. T-hrough the gaps in the bushes we could see clearly the sweat on the child’s fa-ce and his half-naked body. If he had turned his head he might easily have spot-ted us. Fortunately, he just yelled to his companions to come near. From what h-e said it seemed they were there to pick the mushrooms which sprouted after the
shower. After a while, the boy was called by his companions back to the other si-de. Watching the group of kids depart, we wiped cold sweat from our foreheads. What a close call! It took some time, but our hearts slowly calmed down. Danger-s arose one after another and risk was everywhere. Everybody's mood was bad. It was hard to wait until dark. Big Guy and Ho Ping wanted to go down the mountain earlier to look for a pool or paddy to refill water. I urged waiting until it w-as a bit darker but failed to persuade them and had to follow them down. There were several paddy fields with grease spots floating on the water. It looked a
-little disgusting, but they blew the grease spots away and hurried to fill the bottle. Suddenly, someone in the distance shouted and we looked up. Too bad! A man ran very quickly toward us. We immediately got up and ran back to the mount-ain. The man was in hot pursuit, followed by several others. Ho Ping urged me t-o run faster, but I was too weary for that. Before reaching the
-mountain several people surrounded me and I was captured.