and feet sheer up, very similar to the gorges
of the Mekong at the western end of the province, which I crossed in due
course.

To Ch'i-li-p'u, high up on the mountain banks, the first twenty-five li
is by the river. At the half-way place a fearful ascent is experienced,
the most notable precipice on the route between Sui-fu and Yuen-nan-fu,
up a broad zigzag path, and as I sat at dinner I could see neither top
nor bottom owing to the overhanging masses of rock: this is after having
negotiated an ascent quite as steep, but smaller. To Ta-kwan-hsien a few
natural obstacles occur, although the road is always high up on the
hill-sides. I crossed a miserable suspension bridge of two spans. The
southern span is about thirty feet, the northern span eighty feet; the
center is supported by a buttress of splendid blocks of squared stone,
resting on the rock in the bed of the river, one side being considerably
worn away by the action of the water. The longer span was hung very
slack, the woodwork forming the pathway was not too safe, and the
general shaky appearance was particularly uninviting.

From Ta-kwan-hsien to Wuchai is steady pulling. Once in an opening in
the hill we passed along and then ascended an exceedingly steep spur on
one side of a narrow and very deep natural amphitheatre, formed by
surrounding mountains. We then came to a lagoon, and eventually the brow
of the hill was reached. Thus the Wuchai Valley is arrived at, where,
owing to a collection of water, the road is often impassable to man and
beast. Often during the rainy season there is a lagoon of mud or water
formed by the drainage from the mountains, which finds no escape but by
percolating through the earth and rock to a valley on the east of, and
below, the mountains forming the eastern boundary of the Wuchai Valley.
To Chao-t'ong is fairly level going.

Considering the road, it was not unnatural that my men gibbed a little
at the eleven-day accomplishment. I had a long parley with them,
however, and agreed to reward them to the extent of one thousand cash
among the three if they did it. Their pay for the journey, over
admittedly some of the worst roads in the Empire, was to be four hundred
cash per man as before, with three hundred and thirty-three cash extra
if the rain did not prevent them from getting in in eleven days. They
were in good spirits, and so was I, as we walked along the river-bank,
where the poppy was to be seen in full flower, and the