ere
invited to a special breakfast on the morning of our departure.

[Illustration: A MAID OF WESTERN CHINA.]

The Chinese are the only people in the Orient, and, so far as we know, in
the European and Asiatic continents, who resemble the Americans in their
love for a good, substantial morning meal. This was much better adapted to
our purpose than the Russian custom, which compelled us to do the greater
part of our day's work on merely bread and weak tea.

[Illustration: STYLISH CART OF A CHINESE MANDARIN.]

From Urumtsi we had decided to take the northern route to Hami, via
Gutchen and Barkul, in order to avoid as much as possible the sands of the
Tarim basin on the southern slope of the Tian Shan mountains. Two guards
were commissioned by the viceroy to take us in charge, and hand us over to
the next relay station. Papers were given them to be signed by the
succeeding authorities on our safe arrival. This plan had been adopted by
every chief mandarin along the route, in order, not only to follow out the
request of the London minister as written on the passport, but principally
to do us honor in return for the favor of a bicycle exhibition; but many
times we would leave our discomfited guards to return with unsigned
papers. Had we been traveling in the ordinary way, not only these favors
might not have been shown us, but our project entirely defeated by local
obstructions, as was the case with many who attempted the same journey by
caravan. To the good-will of the mandarins, as well as the people, an
indispensable concomitant of a journey through China, our bicycles were
after all our best passports. They everywhere overcame the antipathy for
the foreigner, and made us cordially welcome.

The costumes of our soldiers were strikingly picturesque. Over the front
and back of the scarlet waistcoats were worked in black silk letters their
military credentials. Over their full baggy trousers were drawn their
riding overalls, which cover only the front and sides of the legs, the
back being cut out just above the cloth top of their Chinese boots.
Instead of a cap, they wear a piece of printed cloth wrapped tightly
around the head, like the American washerwomen. Their well-cushioned
saddles did not save them from the constant jolting to which our high
speed subjected them. At every stopping-place they would hold forth at
length to the curious crowd about their roadside experiences. It was
amusing to hear their graphic d