ply a part of the Land of the Rising Sun.

[Illustration: PLATE XXII. A SEDAN-CHAIR IN SEOUL.]

We cross the range of mountains which runs like a backbone all through
Korea from north to south, and late in the evening we come to the
capital, Seoul, which has 280,000 inhabitants, a fifth of whom are
Japanese. The town is confined in a valley between bare cliffs, and from
the heights all that can be seen is confusion of grey and white houses
with gabled roofs covered with grey tiles. In the Japanese quarter life
goes on exactly as in Japan; rows of coloured paper lanterns hang now,
at night, before the open shops, and trade is brisk and lively. In the
Korean quarters the lanes are narrow and dismal, but the principal
streets are wider, with tramcars rattling amidst the varied Asiatic
scenes. Here are sedan chairs (Plate XXII.), caravans of big oxen laden
with firewood, heavy carts with goods, men carrying unusually heavy
loads on a framework of wooden ribs on their backs, women sailing past
in white garments and a veil over their smooth-plaited hair. A row of
grown men and boys pass through the streets carrying boards with Korean
inscriptions in red and white: those are advertisements. Before them
marches a drum and flute band, filling the streets with a hideous noise.

Korea has 13 million inhabitants, and in area is just about as large as
Great Britain. It is now subject to Japan, and is administered by a
Japanese Resident-General, whose headquarters are at Seoul.

MANCHURIA

From Seoul we travelled northwards by rail to Wi-ju, a small place on
the left bank of the Yalu River, which forms the boundary between Korea
and Manchuria. Opposite, on the right or north bank of the Yalu, stands
An-tung, a town with 5000 Japanese and 40,000 Chinese inhabitants. The
river had just begun to freeze over, and the ice was still so thin that
it could be seen bending in great waves under the weight of our sledge,
which a Chinaman pushed along at a great speed with a long iron-shod
pole. However, we reached the other side in safety.

From An-tung to Mukden is only 200 miles, but the journey takes two
whole days. The little narrow-gauge railway was laid down during the
Russo-Japanese War to enable the Japanese to transport provisions and
material to the front. The small track goes up and down over the
mountains in the most capricious curves and loops, and the train seldom
accomplishes the whole journey without a mishap. The Japanes