da, or west
across Chia-ting plain, perhaps the loveliest and most fertile spot in
the Chinese Eden, and then farther west still to where on the horizon
towers Omei Shan, the Holy of Holies of Buddhist China, often, alas,
shrouded in mist from base to summit, for this is a land of clouds and
rain and floods.

Looking across the river to the great cliffs opposite the town, one
discerns dimly, carved on the face of the rock, the wonder of the
region, a colossal Buddha more than three hundred feet in height,
sitting serenely with his hands on his knees, and his feet, or what
ought to be his feet, laved by the rushing water of the Ta Fo Rapid. As
the tale runs, this was the work of a good monk of the eighth century,
who spent his life over the undertaking in the hope that by this pious
act he might avert the terrible floods that devastated the region. A
mighty task boldly conceived and patiently carried out, but still the
rain pours down, and still the rivers rise and drown the land.

Baber tells the dramatic story of one of the greatest of the floods. It
occurred in 1786 when the fall of a cliff in the Ta Tu dammed the river
completely for a time. Warnings were sent to the villages along the
banks, and many fled to the hills, but the people of Chia-ting, trusting
to their open plain over which the water could spread itself, scouted
the warning, and the cry, "Shui lai-la" ("The water is coming"), became
the catchword of the hour. Let Baber tell the rest:--

"It was holiday in Chia-ting some days after the receipt of the notice,
and the light hearted crowds which gathered on such occasions were
chiefly attracted by a theatrical representation on the flat by the
water-side. One of the actors suddenly stopped in the middle of his
role, and gazing up the river, screamed out the now familiar by-word,
'Shui lai-la!' This repetition of the stock jest, with well-simulated
terror, as it seemed to the merry-makers, drew shouts of laughter; but
the echoes of the laugh were drowned in the roar of a deluge. I was
told how the gleeful faces turned to horror as the flood swept on like a
moving wall, and overwhelmed twelve thousand souls."

While in Chia-ting I crossed the river one day to see the great Buddha
from near by, but it is very difficult to get a good view of the image.
The river runs at the foot of the cliff at such a rate that it was all
the boatmen could do to keep us off the rocks, and looking down from
above, the overha