The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan

An illustrated inventions story from Wonder Inventions — free to read, with narration.

The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — an invention story. 10 illustrated pages, narrated, on the kids shelf, free to read on Wonder Inventions.

The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — book cover — Wonder Inventions
The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — an invention story. 10 illustrated pages, narrated, on the kids shelf, free to read on Wonder Inventions.

Page 1

The hill path cracked like a whip. A bamboo pipe, thick as a man's arm, split along a dried seam and brine shot upward in a hissing arc, splattering over all…
The hill path cracked like a whip. A bamboo pipe, thick as a man's arm, split along a dried seam and brine shot upward in a hissing arc, splattering over all three of them before they could step back. Mei-lan yelped and ran straight at the spray instead of away from it, scrambling up onto a boulder taller than her own waist, yanking the straw hat off her back and slamming it down hard over the broken joint. Brine still fizzed out around her fingers.

The hill path cracked like a whip. A bamboo pipe, thick as a man's arm, split along a dried seam and brine shot upward in a hissing arc, splattering over all three of them before they could step back. Mei-lan yelped and ran straight at the spray instead of away from it, scrambling up onto a boulder taller than her own waist, yanking the straw hat off her back and slamming it down hard over the broken joint. Brine still fizzed out around her fingers. Bo-tai dropped his rope coil and grabbed two fistfuls of hemp cord from his sash, passing lengths up to Grandfather Pan, who knelt his long frame down beside the boulder and began lashing the hat tight to the pipe, his bamboo measuring rod laid aside in the dust. Salty water dripped from the old man's beard. Behind them the derricks of Ziliujing stood in rows down the slope, smoke already rising from the boiling sheds below.

Page 2

The last pan hissed and spat, its brine shrinking to a crust of grey crystals that crackled like dry leaves underfoot. Bo-tai darted forward, grabbing the…
The last pan hissed and spat, its brine shrinking to a crust of grey crystals that crackled like dry leaves underfoot. Bo-tai darted forward, grabbing the long-handled shovel from its hook and scraping hard against the hot iron, hauling scoop after scoop of salt into the woven basket at his feet. Steam stung his eyes but he kept shoveling, dragging the heavy basket by its rope handles toward the open doorway, muscles straining with each pull.

The last pan hissed and spat, its brine shrinking to a crust of grey crystals that crackled like dry leaves underfoot. Bo-tai darted forward, grabbing the long-handled shovel from its hook and scraping hard against the hot iron, hauling scoop after scoop of salt into the woven basket at his feet. Steam stung his eyes but he kept shoveling, dragging the heavy basket by its rope handles toward the open doorway, muscles straining with each pull. Mei-lan climbed onto an overturned crate beside the next pan, tipping the last bucket of brine over its rim. The liquid ran across the hot metal, hissing violently, shrinking into nothing but a thin white ring. She watched it vanish, fanning the steam from her face with her hand. Old Pan Wu-shan leaned on his long measuring rod near the gas-pipes, tapping the bamboo joints to check they still hissed evenly, nodding each time flame held steady. The shed rang with clanging pans and crackling fire, salt dust drifting like fine snow through the smoky air.

Page 3

The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 3 illustration — Wonder Inventions
The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 3 illustration — Wonder Inventions

The buffalo plodded its slow circle, hooves sucking in the mud, and the bamboo cable groaned as it wound up around the drum taller than a man. Mei-lan watched the coils climb, counting under her breath, when a sharp crack split the air like a snapped bone. The frayed cable parted in a spray of broken fibres, whipping across the yard in wild loops. Bo-tai threw himself sideways, dragging Mei-lan down into the mud as the loose rope lashed past where she had stood. Grandfather Pan lunged for the drum brake, slamming his whole weight on the lever, but it was too late — the heavy iron drill bit dropped free and plunged away down the black mouth of the well, a thousand metres of dark waiting below. The buffalo bellowed and stamped. Bo-tai scrambled up, grabbing the whipping rope-end before it could coil round his ankle, hauling it taut and pinning it under his sandal. Mei-lan sat up, mud to her elbows, staring at the hole where the bit had vanished.

Page 4

The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 4 illustration — Wonder Inventions
The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 4 illustration — Wonder Inventions

Deep in the bamboo grove, stems thick as a boy's waist crowded close, blotting out the sun into green shadow. Auntie Tang planted her feet wide, swung her crescent knife in two great arcs, and the huge culm groaned, cracked, and toppled, crashing across the stream to make a long bridge over the water. Mei-lan whooped and scrambled up the fallen trunk to test it, bare feet gripping the smooth green bark. 'It holds!' she shouted, bouncing once. Pan Wu-shan set down his measuring rod and pressed a hand flat against the stem, nodding slowly. Bo-tai uncoiled his rope and looped it round the thick end, bracing his sandals in the dirt to haul. 'Lift together, on three!' called Auntie Tang, sliding her shoulder under the trunk beside the boy. Pan Wu-shan took the middle, Mei-lan darted to steady the tip, and all four heaved it up, shuffling forward step by step like a long green dragon winding out between the stems, leaves hissing against their arms as they pushed through the grove toward the open slope.

Page 5

The new cable lay coiled at the top of the rope-walk, thick as a man's thigh and taller than Mei-lan when stood on its edge, fresh-braided and still damp from…
The new cable lay coiled at the top of the rope-walk, thick as a man's thigh and taller than Mei-lan when stood on its edge, fresh-braided and still damp from the soaking troughs. A gust caught the lane's slope wrong, and the coil tipped, unrolled, and went rumbling down the hundred-metre run of pegs straight toward the river. "It's loose!" Mei-lan shrieked, dropping her peg-basket and scrambling backward out of its path.

The new cable lay coiled at the top of the rope-walk, thick as a man's thigh and taller than Mei-lan when stood on its edge, fresh-braided and still damp from the soaking troughs. A gust caught the lane's slope wrong, and the coil tipped, unrolled, and went rumbling down the hundred-metre run of pegs straight toward the river. "It's loose!" Mei-lan shrieked, dropping her peg-basket and scrambling backward out of its path. Pan Wu-shan thumped his measuring rod into the dirt and shouted a warning down the lane. Bo-tai was already running, rope coil spinning off his shoulder; he flung the loop wide and it dropped over the rolling cable like a lasso. The rope snapped taut, dragging him two stumbling steps, but the coil kept rumbling toward the water's edge. Auntie Tang planted herself in its path, set her sandal flat against the braided bamboo, and shoved her whole weight down. The great coil shuddered, groaned, and stopped dead a hand's breadth from the river stones.

Page 6

The anvil rang like a bell under the dragon-carved eaves as Bo-tai slammed the hammer down again and again, bending the glowing iron bar into a curling hook.
The anvil rang like a bell under the dragon-carved eaves as Bo-tai slammed the hammer down again and again, bending the glowing iron bar into a curling hook. Auntie Tang gripped the tongs, turning the hot metal steady while sparks hissed around her leather apron. 'Another bend here,' she shouted, 'then the jaws will close!' Mei-lan worked the bellows with both hands, pumping until the forge roared orange.

The anvil rang like a bell under the dragon-carved eaves as Bo-tai slammed the hammer down again and again, bending the glowing iron bar into a curling hook. Auntie Tang gripped the tongs, turning the hot metal steady while sparks hissed around her leather apron. 'Another bend here,' she shouted, 'then the jaws will close!' Mei-lan worked the bellows with both hands, pumping until the forge roared orange. When the grab cooled, Pan Wu-shan looped a thick rope through its ring and hauled it up on the beam, grunting with the weight. 'Let's test its bite,' he called, swinging it toward the stone lion guarding the courtyard. The iron jaws clanged shut around the carved ball in the lion's mouth, gripping tight. Bo-tai hauled the rope again, laughing as the whole grab swung wide on its arc — and smashed straight into the bronze gong hanging by the gate, which boomed out across the courtyard, scattering startled pigeons into the sky above the dragon roofs.

Page 7

Halfway across the gorge, wind slammed into the trestle line and a pipe joint burst with a crack like a whip. Brine sprayed out sideways, raining down onto the…
Halfway across the gorge, wind slammed into the trestle line and a pipe joint burst with a crack like a whip. Brine sprayed out sideways, raining down onto the white stones far below. Bo-tai felt the trestle shudder and lunged, uncoiling his rope in one throw to loop the loose section before it could swing free and fall. Mei-lan was already scrambling along the narrow plank walk on hands and knees, a fresh bamboo patch clamped under one arm.

Halfway across the gorge, wind slammed into the trestle line and a pipe joint burst with a crack like a whip. Brine sprayed out sideways, raining down onto the white stones far below. Bo-tai felt the trestle shudder and lunged, uncoiling his rope in one throw to loop the loose section before it could swing free and fall. Mei-lan was already scrambling along the narrow plank walk on hands and knees, a fresh bamboo patch clamped under one arm. She wedged it hard into the split joint, bracing her bare feet against the trestle pole while spray stung her eyes. Auntie Tang came right behind, dropping to her knees beside the girl, pulling hemp cord tight around the patch with both fists, knotting it fast before the wind could tear it loose again. Grandfather Pan gripped the trestle rail with one hand and steadied Mei-lan's shoulder with the other, keeping her from pitching sideways as the whole line swayed. Slowly the spray thinned to a trickle, then stopped.

Page 8

The main pipe had gone quiet, and quiet was wrong. Pan Wu-shan pressed his ear to the bamboo, thumped it twice with his knuckles, and shook his head.
The main pipe had gone quiet, and quiet was wrong. Pan Wu-shan pressed his ear to the bamboo, thumped it twice with his knuckles, and shook his head. "Salt crust, thick as a fist. It has choked the whole gallery." Auntie Tang dragged the loose joint open with both hands, grunting, while Bo-tai uncoiled his rope and knotted it fast around Mei-lan's waist.

The main pipe had gone quiet, and quiet was wrong. Pan Wu-shan pressed his ear to the bamboo, thumped it twice with his knuckles, and shook his head. "Salt crust, thick as a fist. It has choked the whole gallery." Auntie Tang dragged the loose joint open with both hands, grunting, while Bo-tai uncoiled his rope and knotted it fast around Mei-lan's waist. "Go slow," he said, "I will not let go." Mei-lan dropped to her knees and wriggled into the low rock passage, mallet gripped tight, lantern light bouncing off wet stone just above her head. She crawled forward, knees scraping, and swung the mallet hard against the crusted blockage — once, twice — until it cracked and crumbled away. Brine surged through with a roar, soaking her sleeves, and she yelped, scrambling backward as Bo-tai hauled the rope hand over hand, dragging her clear just as the pipe gushed full force. She came out dripping, grinning, salt water streaming off her chin.

Page 9

The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 9 illustration — Wonder Inventions
The Bamboo Water Pipes of Sichuan — page 9 illustration — Wonder Inventions

Twenty metres up, the crown platform swayed like a boat, and the rope ran burning through four pairs of hands. "Haul, haul, don't stop now!" shouted Bo-tai, bracing his sandals against the timber edge and heaving hand over hand. Mei-lan threw her small weight into the line behind him, yarn tie flapping, teeth gritted. Up out of the thousand-metre dark came the iron grab, its hooked jaws locked tight around the lost drill bit, dripping and swinging. The moment it cleared the hole, brine fountained up in a great white gush, roaring past the platform boards. "Pipe, quick, the pipe!" cried Pan Wu-shan, bracing his measuring rod against the rail. Auntie Tang lunged forward, grabbed a length of bamboo from the stack, and slammed it down over the gushing hole, wrestling it straight with both arms until the spray tamed into a steady stream. Pan steadied himself, notched his soot-banded rod with his knife, and nodded grimly at the number.

Page 10

The whole journey ends here, at the wide stone steps of Niufo Ferry, where the river runs brown and busy with junks lined up stern to bow.
The whole journey ends here, at the wide stone steps of Niufo Ferry, where the river runs brown and busy with junks lined up stern to bow. Porters pound down the steps, each one taller than they are wide with the white salt blocks balanced on their shoulders, slamming each load into the waiting boats with a grunt and a thud. Pan Wu-shan stands at the top of the steps, notched measuring rod planted like a staff, counting the blocks aloud as they pass.

The whole journey ends here, at the wide stone steps of Niufo Ferry, where the river runs brown and busy with junks lined up stern to bow. Porters pound down the steps, each one taller than they are wide with the white salt blocks balanced on their shoulders, slamming each load into the waiting boats with a grunt and a thud. Pan Wu-shan stands at the top of the steps, notched measuring rod planted like a staff, counting the blocks aloud as they pass. Auntie Tang braces her shoulder under a stack threatening to topple, shoving it straight before it can crash into the water. Bo-tai hauls on the stern rope hand over hand, looping it tight round a post twice his height, his yellow sash flapping. And high on the bow of the lead junk, barefoot and grinning, Mei-lan puts the green bamboo whistle to her lips and blows one long bright note. The porters cheer, the lines are cast off, and the junk swings out into the current, carrying Zigong's salt — and all their hard work — down the Tuo River toward the waiting world.

About this story

  • Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
  • Format: 10 illustrated pages, narrated, on the kids shelf, free to read on Wonder Inventions

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