trees, were carried away with the slightest
breath of wind.

At Hsiao Singai, on February 15th, I again had difficulty in getting a
room; so I waited, and whilst my men searched about for a place where I
could sleep, an extremely tall fellow came up to me, and having felt
with his finger and thumb the texture of my tweeds and expressed
satisfaction thereof, said--

"Come, elder brother, I have my dwelling in this hostelry, and my upper
chamber is at your disposal." And then he added with a twinkle in his
eye, "Ko nien, ko nien,"[BF] whereat I became wary.

Lao Chang, however, was more cute. Whilst I was assuring this
well-dressed holiday-maker that he must not think the stranger churlish
in not accepting at once the proffered services, but that I would go to
look at the room, he sprang past us and went on ahead. In a few moments
I was slowly going hence with the multitude. Lao Chang nodded carelessly
to the strange company there assembled, and passing through the room
with a soft, cat-like tread, began to ascend a dark flight of narrow
stairs leading to the second floor of the inn. And I, down below
startled and bewildered by mysterious words from everyone, watched his
blue garments vanishing upwards, and like a man driven by irresistible
necessity, muttered incoherent excuses to my amazed companions, and in a
blind, unreasoning, unconquerable impulse rushed after him. But I wish I
had not. There were several ladies, who, all more or less _en
deshabille_, scampered around with their bundles of gear--sewing,
babies' clothes, tin pots, hair ornaments, boxes of powder and scented
soap of that finest quality imported from Burma, selling for less than
you can buy the genuine article for in London!--and then we took
possession.

If once there is a railway to Tengyueh from Burma, a visit to West
China, even on to Tali-fu, for those who are prepared to rough it a
little, will become quite a common trip. A few days up the Irawadi to
Bhamo, through scenery of a peculiar kind of beauty eclipsed on none
other of the world's great rivers, would be succeeded by a day or two
over some of the best country which Upper Burma anywhere affords, and
then, when once past Tengyueh, the grandeur of the mountains is amply
compensating to those who love Nature in her beautiful isolation and
peace. From a recuperating standpoint, perhaps, it would not quite
answer--the rains would be a drawback to road travel, and it would at
best mean roug