surprised to know that my companion and I had no knowledge of the
Chinese language, and seemed to look lightly upon our chances of ever
getting through.

It was true. Neither my companion nor myself knew three words of the
language, but went forward simply believing in the good faith of the
Chinese people, with our passports alone to protect us. That we should
encounter difficulties innumerable, that we should be called upon to put
up with the greatest hardships of life, when viewed from the standard to
which one had been accustomed, and that we should be put to great
physical endurance, we could not doubt. But we believed in the Chinese,
and believed that should any evil befall us it would be the outcome of
our own lack of forbearance, or of our own direct seeking. We knew that
to the Chinese we should at once be "foreign devils" and "barbarians,"
that if not holding us actually in contempt, they would feel some
condescension in dealing and mixing with us; but I was personally of the
opinion that it was easier for us to walk through China than it would be
for two Chinese, dressed as Chinese, to walk through Great Britain or
America. What would the canny Highlander or the rural English rustic
think of two pig-tailed men tramping through his countryside?

We anchored at Ichang at 7:30 a.m. on March 19th. I fell up against a
boatman who offered to take us ashore. An uglier fellow I had never seen
in the East. The morning sunshine soon dried the decks of the gunboat
_Kinsha_ (then stationed in the river for the defense of the port) which
English jack-tars were swabbing in a half-hearted sort of way, and all
looked rosy enough.[B] But for the author, who with his companion was a
literal "babe in the wood," the day was most eventful and trying to
one's personal serenity. We had asked questions of all and sundry
respecting our proposed tramp and the way we should get to work in