d him
hastily to come on deck. He threw down his book and ran up-stairs. The
whole ship was in a joyous commotion. His friend pointed toward
the horizon, and away off there against the sky stood the top of a
snow-capped peak--Fujiyama!--the majestic, sacred mountain of Japan!

It was a welcome sight, after the long ocean voyage, and the hours they
lay in Yokahama harbor were full of enjoyment. Every sight was thrilling
and strange to young Mackay's Western eyes. The harbor fairly swarmed
with noisy, shouting, chattering Japanese boatmen. He wondered why they
seemed so familiar, until it suddenly dawned on him that their queer
ricestraw coats made them look like a swarm of Robinson Crusoes who had
just been rescued from their islands.

When he landed he found things still funnier. The streets were noisier
than the harbor. Through them rolled large heavy wooden carts, pulled
and pushed by men, with much grunting and groaning. Past him whirled
what looked like overgrown baby carriages, also pulled by men, and each
containing a big grown-up human baby. It was all so pretty too, and so
enchanting that the young missionary would fain have remained there. But
China was still farther on, so when the America again set sail, he was
on board.

Away they sailed farther and farther east, or was it west? He often
asked himself that question in some amusement as they approached the
coast of China. They entered a long winding channel and steamed this
way and that until one day they sailed into a fine broad harbor with
a magnificent city rising far up the steep sides of a hill. It was an
Oriental city, and therefore strange to the young traveler. But for all
that there seemed something familiar in the fine European buildings
that lined the streets, and something still more homelike in that which
floated high above them--something that brought a thrill to the heart of
the young Canadian--the red-crossed banner of Britain!

It was Hongkong, the great British port of the East, and here he decided
to land. No sooner had the travelers touched the dock, than they were
surrounded by a yelling, jostling crowd of Chinese coolies, all shouting
in an outlandish gibberish for the privilege of carrying the Barbarians'
baggage. A group gathered round Mackay, and in their eagerness began
hammering each other with bamboo poles. He was well-nigh bewildered,
when above the din sounded the welcome music of an English voice.

"Are you Mackay from Cana