* * * * *
Upon arrival at Kweifu one bids farewell to the Gorges. This town,
formerly a considerable coaling center, overlooks most beautiful
hillocks, with cottage gardens cultivated in every accessible corner,
and a wide sweep of the river.
We landed with difficulty. "Chor, chor!" yelled the trackers, who marked
time to their cry, swinging their arms to and fro at each short step;
but they almost gave up the ghost. However, we did land, and so did our
boy, who bought excellent provisions and meat, which, alas! too soon
disappeared. The mutton and beef gradually grew less and daily
blackened, wrapped up in opposite corners of the cabin, under the
protection from the wet of a couple of sheets of the "Pink 'Un."
From Kweifu to Wan Hsien there was the same kind of scenery--the clear
river winding among sand-flats and gravel-banks, with occasional stiff
rapids. But after having been in a _wu-pan_ for several days, suffering
that which has been detailed, and much besides, the journey got a bit
dreary. These, however, are ordinary circumstances; but when one has
been laid up on a bench of a bed for three days with a high temperature,
a legacy of several years in the humid tropics, the physical discomfort
baffles description.
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