an elevation of nearly seven thousand feet, and the
combination seemed to work confusion among the growing things, for rice
and wheat were found not far apart, and here at last Heine's palm and
pine had come together.

Late on the second afternoon after leaving Lao-kai we were approaching
Yunnan-fu. Seen across the plain, the capital of the province looked
very imposing as it lay stretched along a low ridge running east and
west. Rice-fields interspersed with ruins, sad reminders of the
terrible Mohammedan rebellion of a generation ago, crowd up to the very
walls on the near side of the town. Outside the South Gate is the
station, and not far distant the Chinese house which an enterprising
French couple had turned into a very comfortable inn, where I stayed the
three days needed for arranging my caravan and seeing the sights of the
place.

CHAPTER II

DAYS IN YUNNAN-FU

The situation of Yunnan's capital is extraordinarily picturesque. It
stands in a wide plain, its northern wall running along a low rocky
ridge from which there is a charming view over city and lake to the
great mountains that skirt the plain on all sides. Lying at an elevation
of nearly seven thousand feet, it is blessed with a white man's climate.
Eighty-five degrees in the shade marks the highest summer temperature,
and the winters are just pleasantly bracing. Europeans who have
experienced the biting winds of Peking, the damp heat of Canton, or the
gray skies of Chengtu find in the bright days and cool breezes of Yunnan
some mitigation of their exile to this remote corner of the empire. The
city itself is not very attractive in spite of its many trees, for it
seems a network of narrow lanes, only broken here and there by a temple
enclosure or a stretch of waste land, the whole shut in by sound
thirty-foot high walls; nor are there any sights of special interest,
with the exception of a rather fine Confucian temple. But the country
roundabout affords many charming excursions. The waters of the lake,
some twenty-three miles in length, once perhaps washed the west wall,
but it is gradually silting up, and to-day it is five miles away and is
reached by heavy sampans which ply the narrow canals that intersect the
rice-fields. Farm buildings, tea-houses, and temples buried in groves of
bamboo are dotted over the plain, which is crossed at intervals by high,
stone-paved dykes lined with trees. The rich cultivation of the lowland
is in sharp cont