g at the railed-in edge of
the cliff, straining their eyes to see into the uttermost depths below,
or looking skywards for a sight of "Buddha's Glory," that strange
phenomenon which has never been quite explained; it may be akin to the
Spectre of the Brocken, but to the devout Buddhist pilgrim it is the
crowning marvel of Mount Omei.

Looking off to the north and east one saw stretched out, nearly ten
thousand feet below, the green plains and silver rivers of Szechuan.
Southward rose the black peaks and ranges of Lololand, buttressed on the
north by the great, table-shaped Wa Shan, second only to Omei in height
and sacredness.

Before the first day was past every one had become accustomed to my
presence, and I attracted no attention as I came and went. My wants were
looked after, and one or the other of the little acolytes spent many
hours in my room, tending the fire in the brazier, or playing with Jack,
or munching the sweetmeats with which I was kept supplied. They were
nice little lads and did not bother me, and rarely did any one else
disturb my quiet; it was such a comfort after the living in public of
the last month.

[Illustration: THE "REJECTION OF THE BODY"

Cliff a mile high. Mount Omei, West Szechuan]

The second morning of my stay I attended an early service in the lower
temple near my room. Some twelve monks took part; one, the abbot, was a
large, fine-looking man, and all had rather agreeable faces, quite
unlike the brutal, vicious look of the lamas of Tachienlu. There was
much that recalled the ritual of the Roman Catholic Church,--processions,
genuflexions, chanting, burning of incense, lighting of candles, tinkling
of bells,--all centring round a great figure of Sakyamuni. The words I
could not understand, but the reverent expression on the monks' faces,
their orderly bearing as they circled slowly round, keeping always the
bared right shoulder toward the image, made the service very impressive
in spite of the pranks of the little acolytes and the loud talk of
passing men and women.

In turn I visited the near-by temples, but few were of any special
interest. The hilltop has been burnt over several times, the last time
within a generation, and all the buildings on the summit are of recent
date. The most famous of all, the great bronze temple dating from the
fifteenth century, which after being struck by lightning several times
was finally destroyed, has never been restored, thus giving the lie t