void of cultivation when compared with Szech'wan, one mass of high hills
conditioned now as Nature made them; and the people, too, ashamed of
their own wretchedness, are ill-fed and ill-clad.

The greater part of the roads to be traversed now were constructed on
projecting slopes above rivers and torrents, affluents of the Yangtze,
and cross a region upon which the troubled appearance of the mountains
that bristle over it stamps the impress of a severe kind of beauty. Such
roads would not be tolerated in any country but China--I doubt if any
but the ancient Chinese could have had the patience to build them. One
could not walk with comfort; it was an impossible task. Far away over
the earth, winding into all the natural trends of the mountain base, ran
the highway, merrily tripping over huge boulders, into hollows and out
of them, almost underground, but always, with its long white extended
finger, beckoning me on by the narrow ribbon in the distance. True,
although I was absolutely destitute of company, I had always the road
with me, yet ever far from me. I could not catch it up, and sometimes,
dreaming triumphantly that I had now come even with it where it seemed
to end in some disordered stony mass, it would trip mischievously out
again into view, bounding away into some tricky bend far down to the
edge of the river, and rounding out of sight once more until the point
of vantage was attained. Its twisting and turning, up and down, inwards,
outwards, made humor for the full long day. With it I could not quarrel,
for it did its best to help me with my weary men onwards over the now
darkened landscape, and ever took the lead to urge us forward. If it
came to a great upstanding mountain, with marked politeness it ran round
by a circuitous route, more easily if of greater length; at other times
it scaled clear up, nimbly and straight, turning not once to us in its
self-appointed task, and at the top, standing like some fairy on a
steeple-point, beckoned us on encouragingly. At times it became
exhausted and stretched itself wearisomely out, measuring in width to
only a few small inches, and overlooked the river at great height,
telling us to ponder well our footsteps ere we go forward. To part
company with the road would mean to die, for elsewhere was no foothold
possible. So in this narrow faithful ledge, torn up by the heavy tread
of countless horses' feet beyond Lao-wa-t'an (where horse traffic
starts), we carefully order