t the North of China brick beds called _kangs_ are universal.
They are built about two feet in height, are oblong in shape and
hollow inside, with a small aperture at one end, while the top is
covered with grass matting. During the day a charcoal fire is lighted
in this aperture, the hot air from which fills the interior of the
structure and gradually warms the brickwork, which retains its heat
throughout the night. The fire is then allowed to die down, when a
wadded quilt, a thick blanket and a pillow will be found sufficient to
make a most comfortable couch.

I had not seen one of these kangs before and the method of heating it
had not been explained to me, so, the cold being intense, I placed
fresh fuel on the smouldering embers the last thing before turning in.
How long I had been asleep I do not know before I became conscious of
a frightful nightmare. I was very hot and had lost all power to move.
My tongue felt swollen and heavy, and my throat so dry and sore that
when I tried to cry out it refused to utter a sound. My eyes were
smarting, and having once opened them they would not close again. My
senses were clear and I knew that I was being asphyxiated, but was
powerless to help myself. Horror-stricken, I watched the bright
moonlight shining on the paper window until I lost consciousness.

The next thing I remember was cold air beating on my face, water in my
mouth and trickling down my neck and chest, strong arms supporting me
and the voice of my friend's mafoo calling to his master for a light,
the moon having set.

I owed deliverance to the fortunate breaking of my pony's halter, as,
having been freshly clipped, he had become restive from the cold,
thereby causing the mafoo to enter my room for a spare one, which I
always carried with me. The following morning I felt very shaky and
had a splitting headache, but was able to continue the journey,
gradually recovering as the day wore on.

It is perhaps needless to add that putting fresh charcoal on the fire
was the cause of this _contretemps_, but I was then unaware of there
being no flue to carry off the fumes.

Leaving our ponies and the cart at Yang Fang, and mounted on mules as
being more surefooted, though the high wooden saddles and short
stirrups were most uncomfortable, we started betimes.

After crossing a plain about ten miles in width, strewn with rocks and
boulders, we reached Nan K'ow, or Southern Pass, where we entered the
mountains.

The r