Here we
are on a road now leading through a widening gorge to Shui-chai, and as
I cross the narrow pass I see the river down below looking like a snake
waiting for its prey."
Roads are needed far more than railways.
Being hungry, we sat down at Shui-chai to feed on rice at a place where
a man minded the baby while the woman attended to the food. Over my head
hung sausages--my men swore that they were sausages, although for my
life I could see no resemblance to that article of food--things of 1 1/2
inches in circumference and from 12 to 60 inches long, doubled up and
hung up for sale over a bamboo to dry and harden in the sun. Hams there
were, and dried bacon, and dirty brown biscuits, and uninviting pickled
cabbage. By the side of the table where I sat was a wooden pun of
unwashed rice bowls, against which lay the filthy domestic dog.
Outside, the narrow street was lined to the farthest point of vantage by
kindly people, curious to see their own feeding implements in the
incapable hands of the barbarian from the Western lands, and the
conversation waxed loud and excited in general hazards regarding my
presence in their city.
Stenches were rife; they nearly choked one.
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