d they fall. Underneath were wet,
slippery stones which might easily make one go sliding down into the
chasm below.

As usual on this trip they had many hairbreadth escapes, for there were
savages too hiding up in the dense forest and waiting an opportunity to
spring out upon the travelers. Dr. Mackay was almost caught in a small
avalanche also. He leaped over a narrow stream-bed, and as he did so,
he dislodged a loose mass of rock above him. It came down with a fearful
crash, scattering the smaller pieces right upon his heels; but they
passed all dangers safely and toward evening reached the shore where
the great long Pacific billows rolled upon the sand. They were in the
Kap-tsu-lan plain.

Their journey through the plain was like a triumphal march. Wherever a
chapel had been erected, there were converts to be examined; wherever
there was no chapel, the people gathered about the missionary and
pleaded for one. They often recalled the first visit of Kai Bok-su when
"No room for barbarians" were the only words that met him.

But Dr. Mackay wished to go farther on this journey than he had ever
gone. Some distance south of Kap-tsu-lan lay another district called the
Ki-lai plain. The people here were also aborigines of the island who had
been conquered by the Chinese like the Pepo-hoan. But the inhabitants of
Ki-lai were called Lam-si-hoan, which means "Barbarians of the south."
Dr. Mackay had never been among them, but they had heard the gospel. A
missionary from Oxford College had journeyed away down there to tell the
people about Jesus and had been working among them for some years. He
was not a graduate, not even a student--but only the cook! For Oxford
College was such a place of inspiration under Kai Bok-su, that even the
servants in the kitchen wanted to go out and preach the gospel. So the
cook had gone away to the Ki-lai plain, and, ever since he had left, Dr.
Mackay had longed to go and see how his work was prospering.

So at one of the most southerly points of the Kap-tsu-lan plain he
secured a boat for the voyage south. The best he could get was a small
craft quite open, only twelve feet long. It was not a very fine vessel
with which to brave the Pacific Ocean, but where was the crazy craft
in which Kai Bok-su would not embark to go and tell the gospel to the
heathen? The boat was manned by six Pe-po-hoan rowers, all Christians,
and at five o'clock in the evening they pushed out into the surf of So
Bay. A