ning of the 29th, and the evening
before two sampans took me and my kit, together with the interpreter and
the cook, out to where she lay at her moorings. My belongings looked
rather formidable as they lay heaped up on the deck of the Sikiang, of
the Est Asiatique Francais line, but, after all, there was only a
moderate supply of stores, such as tea, jam, biscuit, sugar, cereals,
tinned meats and tinned milk, together with a few enamelled iron dishes
and the cook's stew-pans, all packed in wooden boxes. The bedding-roll
and clothing were put in camp-bags of waterproof canvas, while the
necessary maps and cameras and films were carried in suit-cases for
safe-keeping. An English cross saddle brought from Shanghai proved more
satisfactory for the small Yunnan ponies than would have been the
Mexican saddle which I had tried in vain to secure. Acting on a timely
word of warning I bought in Hong Kong a most comfortable sedan-chair,
a well-made bamboo affair fitted with a top and adjustable screens and
curtains to keep out either rain or sun. I had been told that I should
have no use for a tent, but that a camp-bed was a necessity, and so it
proved. The bed I took with me was of American manufacture; compact and
light, and fitted with a mosquito frame, it served me throughout all my
journeyings and was finally left in Urga in North Mongolia, on the
chance that it might serve another traveller a good turn. An important
part of my outfit, a small Irish terrier, arrived from Japan the next
morning, when I had about given him up. He was dropped into my waiting
sampan as his ship, homeward bound to Calcutta from Kobe, came into her
moorings, and we climbed up the side of the Sikiang not fifteen minutes
before she was off. All's well that ends well. We were safe on board,
and I had secured a gay little comrade in my solitary journeying, while
before Jack lay a glorious run of two thousand odd miles.

The mail boat to Haiphong, due to make the trip in fifty-three hours,
had once been a royal Portuguese yacht, but the only remaining traces of
her former glory were the royal monogram, "M.R.P.," conspicuous in glass
and woodwork, and her long, graceful lines, charming to look at, but not
well fitted to contend with the cross-currents of the China Sea. As the
only lady passenger I had very comfortable quarters, and the kindest
attention from French officers and Annamese stewards. The second
afternoon there came a welcome diversion when th