. As we entered a man
came out with his p'ukai and himself on the back of a ten-hand pony; the
animal shied, and his manservant got behind and laid on mighty blows
with the butt-end of a gun he was carrying. The pony ceased shying.

To Ch'u-tung was a tedious journey, rising and falling across the wooded
hills, and when we arrived at some cottages by the riverside, the
_fu-song_ had a rough time of it from my men for having brought us by a
long road instead of by the "new" road (so called, although I do not
doubt that it has been in use for many generations). Some Szech'wan
coolies and myself had rice together on a low form away from the smoke,
and the while listened to some tales of old, told by some half-witted,
goitrous monster who seemed sadly out at elbow. The soldier meantime
smelt round for a smoke. As he and my men had decided a few moments ago
that each party was of a very low order of humanity, their pipes for him
were not available. So he took pipe and dried leaf tobacco from this
half-witted skunk, who, having wiped the stem in his eight-inch-long
pants, handed it over in a manner befitting a monarch. It measured some
sixty or seventy inches from stem to bowl.

From Hwan-lien-p'u to Ch'u-tung is reckoned as eighty li; it is quite
one hundred and ten, and the last part of the journey, over barren,
wind-swept hills, most fatiguing.

In contrast to the beauty of the morning's scenery, the country was
black and bare, and a gale blew in our faces. My spirits were raised,
however, by a coolie who joined us and who had a remarkable knowledge of
the whole of the West of China, from Chung-king to Singai, from Mengtsz
to Tachien-lu. Plied with questions, he willingly gave his answers, but
he would persist in leading the way. As soon as a man endeavored to pass
him, he would trot off at a wonderful speed, making no ado of the 120
pounds of China pots on his back, yelling his explanations all the time
to the man behind. Yung-p'ing-hsien lay over to the right, fifteen li
from Ch'u-tung, which is protected from the elements by a bell-shaped
hill at the foot of a mountain lit up with gold from the sinking sun,
which dipped as I trudged along the uneven zigzag road leading across
the plain of peas and beans and winter crops. Four eight-inch planks,
placed at various dangerous angles on three wood trestles, form the
bridge across the fifty-foot stream dividing Ch'u-tung from the world on
the opposite side. Across this I sa