e wind in the
cleft made it dangerous. Our subsequent experiences led me to doubt
his motive in not drawing nearer, and to accredit to him a hateful
spirit of revenge.

We alighted in another of those operatic showers, and made our way
to the gorge, laughing and dashing the rain drops from our faces. We
were not conscious of any particular force of wind, but no sooner
were we within those towering walls of rock than a demon power began
to tear us into pieces and to urge us in the direction of the broken
fence. The first gust terrified us, and with universal feminine assent
we clutched at our skirts and screamed.

The next blast sent combs and hairpins flying, drove our wet hair
about our faces, and forced us to release our garments, which behaved
most shockingly. I saw a kind of recess in the cliffs to the right
under an overhanging shelf of rock, and, though it was approached
by a mud puddle, made straight for it and in temporary quiet let go
my threshing skirts and braided my hair. I could see our driver in
the distance, pretending to look after his harness, and indulging in
hyaena mirth at the figures we cut. Then, to make matters worse, there
came a shout from the hidden road to the right, and, three abreast, a
party of young civil engineers from our ship charged round the corner.

Most of our party sat down in their tracks, and a stifled but heartfelt
moan escaped from more than one. I waded three inches deeper into the
mud puddle and flattened myself against a wall of oozy rock with an
utterly unfeminine disregard of consequences.

The men were of a thoroughly good sort, however, and, ignoring our
plight, insisted on helping us round the corner. They said that,
once we were out of the gorge and on the other face of the mountain,
the strong draught ceased. So each woman took a frenzied grasp of her
skirts, and, with an able-bodied man steadying her on each side, made
the run and brought up safe on the other side. There did not seem to
be much to see--nothing but the precipitous face of the cliff towering
above us, the road cut out of it, winding steeply down to the right,
and the shoulder of the left-hand peak running up into a cloud-swept
sky. Below us was a floor of mist, swaying to unfelt airs, heaving,
gray, and sad.

Just about this time a Chinaman arrived--one of the beast-of-burden
sort--with two immense baskets swung across his shoulders on a bamboo
pole. He made three ineffectual efforts to get rou