West Gate of the city I
exchanged my closed chair for one specially devised for the mountain
climb, simply a bamboo chair furnished with a swinging board for a
foot-rest. It gave of course no protection against sun or rain, but
there was nothing to cut off the view. The closed chair affected by the
Chinese seemed to me intolerable, a stuffy box half closed in front, and
with mere loopholes on the sides. But fifteen years ago no European
woman could ride in anything else without danger of being mobbed.

All the first day we were crossing the beautiful Chia-ting plain, seamed
and watered by many rivers and streams. The path wound in and out among
splendid fields of maize and fine fruit orchards, and the comfortable
looking villages were densely shaded with oak and mulberry trees. It
ought to be a prosperous district, for not only is it rich in natural
resources, but the throngs of pilgrims that pass through here on their
way to the Sacred Mountain must bring a lot of money into the towns.

At the start we kept above the Ta Tu, but later we crossed the Ya, now a
strong-flowing tranquil river, and farther along still at the little
town of Suechi ("Joyous Stream"), famous for its silk, we came to the
Omei, which has its sources on the lower slopes of the Great Mountain.
After this the country was more broken, but everywhere there was the
same careful cultivation, and on all sides we heard the plash of falling
water and the soft whirr of the great Persian wheels busily at work
bringing water to the thirsty land; and occasionally we saw men working
with the foot a smaller wheel by which the next higher levels were
irrigated.

Chen Chia Ch'ang, a small market-town a few miles east of Omei-hsien,
made a charming picture, its walls shining white against the dark
background of the mountain as we approached it across the green
rice-fields. Entering its broad, crowded street we found a theatrical
performance going on in an open hall opposite the temple. While my
coolies were drinking tea I joined the crowd in front of the stage,
which was raised several feet above the street. The play, which was in
honour of the village idol, was beyond my comprehension, but the
pantomime of the actors was very good. This sort of thing is dearly
liked by the Chinese. The players are usually maintained by the village,
and a good deal of the unpopularity of the Christian converts arises, I
am told, from their unwillingness to contribute because of