ume my journey a-wheel. The water is very
low in the upper reaches of the river, and the sampan has to be abandoned
a few miles from where it started. I then get two of the boatmen to carry
the wheel, intending to employ them as far as Kan-tchou-foo.

From the stories current at Canton, the reputation of Kan-tchou-foo is
rather calculated to inspire a lone Fankwae with sundry misgivings. Some
time ago an English traveller, named Cameron, had in that city an
unpleasantly narrow escape from being burned alive. The Celestials
conceived the diabolical notion of wrapping him in cotton, saturating him
with peanut-oil, and setting him on fire. The authorities rescued him not
a moment too soon.

Ere traversing many miles of mountain-paths we emerge upon a partially
cultivated country, where the travelling is somewhat better than in
Quang-tung. The Mae-ling Pass was the boundary line between the provinces
of Quang-tung and Kiang-se; my journey from Nam-ngan will lead me through
the whole length of the latter great province, between three hundred and
four hundred miles north and south.

The paths hereabout are of dirt mostly, and although wretched roads for a
wheelman in the abstract, are nevertheless admirable in comparison with
the stone-ways of Quang-tung. Gratified at the prospect of being able to
proceed to Kui-kiang by land after all, I determine at once that, if the
country gets no worse by to-morrow, I will dismiss the boatmen and pursue
my way alone again on the bicycle. This resolve very quickly develops
into an earnest determination to rid myself of the incubus of the
snail-like movements of my new carriers, who are decidedly out of their
element when walking, as I am very quickly brought to understand by the
annoying frequency of their halts at way-side tea-houses to rest and
smoke and eat.

Ere we are five miles from the sampan these festive mariners of the
Kan-kiang have developed into shuffling, shirking gormandizers, who peer
longingly into every eating-house we pass by and evince a decided
tendency to convert their task into a picnic. Finding me uncomplaining in
footing their respective "bills of lading" at the frequent places where
they rest and indulge their appetites for tid-bits, they advance, in the
brief space of four hours, from a simple diet of peanuts and bubbles of
greasy pastry to such epicurean dishes as pickled duck, salted eggs, and
fricasseed kitten!

Fricasseed kitten is all very well for peo