e men in charge of the boat were slow and obstinate, and
consequently it took a long time for all to get across the river.

It was right here that an unfortunate, yet laughable, accident occurred.

As on the preceding day, the cook rode perched upon his pony's load of
kettles, pans, and pots. When riding along a good road his position was
precarious enough, requiring all his best efforts to maintain his
balance.

When his turn came to go upon the ferry-boat, Ki Pak advised him to
dismount and lead his pony across the plank which covered the watery
space between the bank of the river and the boat. But the cook was an
obstinate Korean, as well as a trifle lazy, and refused to get down,
thinking he could safely drive his beast across the gang-plank.
Ordinarily this would have been possible, but on this particular
occasion, just as the pony stepped upon the plank, the boat gave a
lurch, the plank slipped, and overboard went pony, cook, and all. For a
few moments there was enough bustle and excitement to suit any one.
Fortunately, the water was not deep, and quickly the drenched animal and
man were pulled from the water. The only permanent harm was to some of
the provisions that were a part of the pony's load. The cook was a wiser
as well as a wet man, and made up his mind that the next time he would
heed the advice to dismount when boarding a ferry-boat.

The day's journey was completed without further special incident, and at
night they rested in the inn at Rang-chyoen under conditions much the
same as at Yong-pyoeng.

The third day's journey brought the company to Kewen-syong. On the way
thither Yung Pak was much interested in the sights of the country, which
grew wilder and more strange the farther they got from Seoul. On this
day numerous highwaymen were met, but they dared not molest the
travellers on account of the large number in the party.

The cabins along the country roads were a continual source of curiosity
to Yung Pak. They were built of mud, without windows, and no door except
a screen of cords. In nearly every doorway would be sitting a man,
smoking a long-stemmed pipe, who looked with wide-open eyes at the
unusual procession passing his house.

Of course all the men who lived in these country cabins were farmers,
and Yung Pak liked to watch them as they worked in their fields, for to
the city-bred boy this is always an entrancing sight. What seemed most
curious to him was the fact that women were also