This was the Buddha of whose rumored existence Baber and Hart had already made mention.
Thus I have outlined all that had been printed in English regarding this mysterious marvel. Travelers, of the book-writing sort, had ignored it or passed it by. Not one of them had the initiative to go fifty miles off the beaten track in order to picture and describe the most remarkable monument in that part of the world.
Early in 1910, the writer of this account visited Jah-ding and—although not anxious to pose as one “alert for anything that might put him on the track of fresh discoveries”—decided to do what the writers of books—Baber, Hart, Little, Johnston, d’Ollone—had neglected; to travel two days’ journey to the east in order to definitely locate and describe the rumored marvel.
It was a narrow winding road which led across the hills and through the valleys, zig-zagging hither and yon. The customary method of travel in that region is by sedan chair, but, owing to the fact that the season was the Chinese New Year, it was almost impossible to obtain chair carriers: most of the distance had to be walked. Were I writing a story, it might be made entertaining by an account of wayside scenes and daily incidents of travel. I might describe the farmhouses with their low tiled roofs and their hedges of bamboo, the bridges built of massive masonry; the stone portals spanning the way to commemorate by their scriptions virtuous or useful lives, the tall pagoda rising from its hilltop in the distance to signalize the presence of a city. As this is not a story, let us hasten to the end of the fifty miles, and view the Great Buddha. At the end of two days of travel, we saw before us the colossal image in all its dignity; not nearly so large as rumor had made it out, but a Colossus still. Of course, the story of the whole hill having been hewn into a figure was a fabrication. The figure is on the same plan as the one on the river bank at Jah-ding. The upper half of the hill-side consists of a sandstone cliff, and in this a niche fifty feet broad had been cut, leaving a central core of stone, which was then carved into a figure seated in European style, not cross-legged as Buddha is so often represented. The writer measured the breadth of the opening; using that as a unit of measurement on the photograph, the height of the image is not less than one hundred feet, that of the hill not less than two hundred. As the camera was pointing upward at a small angle, the vertical distances must be greater than the figures given.
The reader will observe by glancing at the picture that a series of five tiled roofs, descending like a flight of steps, have been built before the image to protect it from the weather, so that only the face can be seen from without. But by going within, the location of the feet can be determined; they are on a level with the space between the two lowest roofs. A white-fronted structure may be seen below and to the right; it is a temple, and another temple crowns the height. As the writer
