The weather continued grim, cold, and damp, with a penetrating east wind. I felt the cold more than on any previous journey, even when for weeks at a time the mercury had registered 20° below zero, and on this occasion it never fell below 40° above, and on some of the “coldest” days was as high as 45°. Men who had them were wearing their handsome furs up to March 12th.

After leaving the coal-pit and the bleak hillside, we descended to a region where the natural terrace formation of the hills was extensively aided by art, and the country looked as if it were covered with Roman camps.

At the risk of wearying my readers, I must again remark on the singularity of the formation of this large portion of the Red Basin, which is continued in its most exaggerated form at least as far south as Shien Ching, on the Kialing, fully 270 li south of Paoning. Looking down from any height, it is seen that the red sandstone has been decomposed into hundreds of small hills, from 200 to 300 feet high, with their sides worn into natural and very regular terraces, of which I have counted twenty-three one above another, while the actual hilltop is weathered into a most deceptive resemblance to a fort or ruined castle.

The deep blue, glittering skies of the high altitudes were exchanged for the mist and dulness which have conferred upon Sze Chuan the name of “The Cloudy Province,” and with the lower levels came mosquitoes and sandflies, and a day shade temperature from 82° to 93°, very little alleviated during the night. I left the capital in a small flat-bottomed wupan, drawing four inches of water, with a mat roof, and without doors at either end. Yet my cambric curtains were never lifted, and when I desired it I enjoyed complete privacy at the expense of partial asphyxiation. At that time, May 20, the water was so low that no bigger boat could make the passage, and numbers of small, trim house-boats were aground.

It was the start for a river journey of over 2000 miles, the first thousand of which were accomplished in this and similar boats. It was a delightful and most propitious journey; and introduced me to many new beauties and interests, and to a most attractive area of prosperity. For the first day the boatmen made more use of their shoulders than of their oars, lifting and shoving the boat, which “drave heavily” over sand and shingle and often bumped like a cart over paving-stones. For the ascent of the river breast-poles are used by men wading.

The sixty li from Li-fan Ting to Tsa-ku-lao (spelled by Mr. von Rosthorn of the Imperial Customs in a letter to me Tsaku-nao) have much the same characteristics as those of the day before. The scenery is magnificent, and even more fantastic. Nitrate of soda, sulphur, and iron-one abound. Sand-stone has disappeared, giving place to limestone, conglomerate, schistaceous rock, grey and pink granite, basalt, and mica. The Siao Ho, still a full-watered and vigorous stream, occasionally narrowed to forty feet, plunges over pink granite ledges in a series of cataracts as the canyon opens out, and there are smooth, green lawns, with much wealth of dwarf, crimson roses, and much gloom, in many graves and dismal remains of Man-tze houses partially destroyed. Some of the pot-holes in the river are remarkable for their size, and still contain the smoothly-rounded stones by the action of which they have been formed. Pine woods appeared on hill crests and on the northern slopes of mountains.

Many Man-tze villages, now deserted, are ready for occupation, and others in romantic situations, now occupied by Chinese, are very striking architecturally, each with a Man-tze feudal castle piled on a rock above it. These villages were always built at the mouths of gorges where lateral torrents joining the Siao Ho formed alluvial fans with arable soil enough to support small populations.