rapids, but it leaves at two o'clock in the morning and is literally
crowded to overflowing with evil-smelling Chinese who sprawl over every
available inch of deck space, so that even the missionaries strongly
advised us against taking it. The passengers not infrequently are pushed
off into the water. One of the missionaries witnessed an incident which
illustrates in a typical way the total lack of sympathy of the average
Chinese.

A coolie on the Cui-kau launch accidentally fell overboard, and although a
friend was able to grasp his hand and hold him above the surface, no one
offered to help him; the launch continued at full speed, and finally
weakening, the poor man loosed his hold and sank. This is by no means an
isolated case. Some years ago a foreign steamer was burned on the Yangtze
River, and the crowds of watching Chinese did little or nothing to rescue
the passengers and crew. Indeed, as fast as they made their way to shore
many of them were robbed even of their clothing and some were murdered
outright.

Our first day on the Min River was the most luxurious of the entire
Expedition, for we were fortunate in obtaining the Standard Oil Company's
launch through the kindness of Mr. Livingston, their agent. It was large
and roomy, and the trip, which would have been worse than disagreeable on
the public boat, was most delightful. The Min is one of the most beautiful
rivers of all China with its velvet green mountains rising a thousand feet
or more straight up from the water and often terraced to the summits.

Perched on the bow of our boat was a wizened little gentleman with a
pigtail wrapped around his head, who said he was a pilot, but as he
inquired the channel of everyone who passed and ran us aground a dozen
times or more to the tremendous agitation of our captain, we felt that his