We did not often ask for special permits from the authorities, because we did not care to be constantly worrying them, and because if the official happened to be asleep, or obfuscated, there were delays, and the attendants rather expected that something unusual would be attempted, and the guards thus made unusually alert. We went up the river beyond the guard boat, and down it below the fort; sometimes I was challenged, generally not, and the restrictions were only a subject to grumble at openly, and ignore in secret. By taking my horse across the river and working the opposite bank I was never subjected to any annoyance or question, and I crossed beyond the prescribed limits whenever I wished. Still, it was not easy to get the Chinese boatmen to contravene the regulations. Once when it was necessary for me to cross from Liao-tse to the town in the night, I had to go to the village opium joint, seize a sampan man, drag him to the water-edge, put him in the sampan and push it off into the stream myself, then set him to scull the boat across. Of course he grumbled, and worked hard and in mortal fear, but no shot was fired that time. At others we were shot at, and over, but luckily not fired upon. Finding by experience that when I answered the sentinel’s challenge with the usual pass-word “Svoi” (literally, “self-same” = friend) it invariably led to further questioning and vexatious delay whilst explaining my business, I asked a Russian official how I could avoid the annoyance. “Oh, say ‘K’chortu’ (to the devil), I always do.” That never failed me.