of a near-by hamlet, who
apparently found their pastime in watching the traffic across the
bridge, perhaps waiting for a chance to earn a few cash by carrying the
loads of the less sure-footed coolies. My chair-men came over
triumphantly, and Mercury almost ran with his baskets, but the
interpreter was glad of the fu t'ou's aid, and two of the coolies
balked, but were helped out by some of the others.

Later in the day we left the river, and crossing a head ridge or pass
affording beautiful views to the south, came out after a time in the
same valley, but now wider and more open. Though the mountains still
towered to left and right, we were getting down to lower levels, and the
change was marked in the palms, bamboos, and peach trees that began to
appear. But the villages were nothing more than hamlets, and the outlook
for dinner at the first stopping-place was so poor that I, now riding in
my chair, decided to go on to the next settlement; but here conditions
were even worse, the only inn being dismantled and abandoned. Although
it was getting late and the others were far behind, there was nothing
left but to travel on. Our last hope for the night proved to be a group
of four houses only with few supplies, but the people bade us welcome
and did their best to make us comfortable. Fires were lighted and
clothes were soon drying and rice a-boiling. After the arrival of the
interpreter I learned that we had been taken for missionaries, and that
it was expected we would hold a service.

The scenery grew even more beautiful as we descended the valley the next
day. Our trail led through fine groves high on the hillside, while below
us the river, now big enough to have a name, the Ya, turned and twisted
in splendid green swirls. Seen from a distance the villages were very
attractive, built usually of wood, their thatched roofs just putting
forth green shoots. A new feature in the landscape were tall spruce
trees, reminding me in their outlines of the rock pines of Italy. As the
road was now good, it was possible for me to ride in my chair once more,
for which I was glad, as the hard climbs and still more wearying
descents of the last three days had made me rather stale. The people
along the way were much interested in me and still more in Jack, but it
was the naive curiosity of a simple folk, and I did not find it irksome
like the hard stare of the townspeople. At one place where we halted for
tiffin, a lame man with an inte