Breakfast was served in much the same manner as the supper of the
previous evening had been. Of this meal all heartily partook, for a
Korean is never guilty of having a poor appetite.

As usual, it took a long time to get the ponies properly loaded and
ready to start, and the forenoon was about half-gone when the procession
finally left the courtyard of the inn.

A twenty-mile march would bring the party to Rang-chyön, where it was
proposed to spend the second night of the journey.

The day was passed in much the same manner as the preceding one, though
of course new scenes proved ever interesting to Yung Pak. During this
day the party had to cross a river which was too deep to ford, and over
which there was no sort of bridge. For the assistance of travellers a
ferry-boat had been provided. This boat was a broad, flat-bottomed,
clumsy affair. It could carry but three ponies at a time, with several
men. The men in charge of the boat were slow and obstinate, and
consequently it took a long time for all to get across the river.

It was right here that an unfortunate, yet laughable, accident occurred.

As on the preceding day, the cook rode perched upon his pony's load of
kettles, pans, and pots. When riding along a good road his position was
precarious enough, requiring all his best efforts to maintain his
balance.

When his turn came to go upon the ferry-boat, Ki Pak advised him to
dismount and lead his pony across the plank which covered the watery
space between the bank of the river and the boat. But the cook was an