scraping off the hair was accompanied by unceasing chatter. Boiling with
rage we dressed and went for a walk, vowing not to spend another night in
the place but to sleep in the _sampans_.

On the whole our river men were nice fellows but they had the love of
companionship characteristic of all Chinese and the inherent desire to
huddle together as closely as possible wherever they were. On the way up
the river to Yuchi every evening they insisted on stopping at some
foul-smelling village, and it was difficult to induce them to spend the
night away from a town. Moreover, at our stops for luncheon they would
invariably ignore a shady spot and choose a sand bank where the sun beat
down like a blast furnace.

The Chinese never appear to be affected by the sun and go bareheaded at all
seasons of the year, shading their eyes with one hand or a partly opened
fan. A fan is the prime requisite, and it is not uncommon to see coolies
almost devoid of clothing, dragging a heavy load and with the perspiration
streaming from their naked bodies, energetically fanning themselves
meanwhile.

Mr. Caldwell was _en route_ to Yuchi, one of his mission stations far up a
branch of the Min River, and as there was a vague report of tiger in that
vicinity we joined him instead of proceeding directly to Yen-ping. The
tiger story was found to be merely a myth, but our trip was made
interesting by meeting Miss Mabel Hartford, the only foreign resident of
the place. She has lived in Yuchi for two years and at one time did not see
a white person for eight months with the exception of Mr. Caldwell who was
in the vicinity for three days. It requires four weeks to obtain supplies
from Foochow, there is no telegraph, and mails are very irregular, but she
enjoys the isolation and is passionately fond of her work.