descent, it collapsed entirely, and
precipitated the rider over the handle-bars. The lower part of the frame
had broken short off, where it was previously cracked, and had bent the
top bar almost double in the fall. In this sad plight, we were rejoiced to
find in the "City under the Shade" the Scotch missionary, Mr. Laughton,
who had founded here the most remote of the China Inland Missions. But
even with his assistance, and that of the best native mechanic, our
repairs were ineffective. At several points along the route we were
delayed on this account. At last the front and rear parts of the machine
became entirely separated. There was no such thing as steel to be found in
the country, no tools fit to work with, and no one who knew the first
principles of soldering. After endeavoring to convince the native
blacksmiths that a delicate bicycle would not stand pounding like a
Chinese cart-wheel, we took the matter into our own hands. An iron bar was
placed in the hollow tubing to hold it in shape, and a band of telegraph
wire passed round from front to rear, along the upper and lower rods, and
then twisted so as to bring the two parts as tightly together as possible.
With a waddling frame, and patched rear-wheel describing eccentric
revolutions, we must have presented a rather comical appearance over the
remaining thousand miles to the coast.

[Illustration: MONUMENT TO THE BUILDER OF A BRIDGE.]

Across the Yellow Hoang-ho, which is the largest river we encountered in
Asia, a pontoon bridge leads into the city of Lan-chou-foo. Its
strategical position at the point where the Hoang-ho makes its great bend
to the north, and where the gateway of the West begins, as well as its
picturesque location in one of the greatest fruit-bearing districts of
China, makes it one of the most important cities of the empire. On the
commanding heights across the river, we stopped to photograph the
picturesque scene. As usual, the crowd swarmed in front of the camera to
gaze into the mysterious lens. All the missionaries we had met cautioned
us against taking photographs in China, lest we should do violence to the
many popular superstitions, but the only trouble we ever experienced in
this respect was in arousing popular curiosity. We soon learned that in
order to get something besides Chinese heads in our pictures it was
necessary first to point the camera in the opposite direction, and then
wheel suddenly round to the scene we wished to ta