When we had marched about five hours, for during the darkness the pace had been a slow one, we found ourselves close upon the rocky chain already described, which exactly resembled the pinnacles which rise in hundreds from the sea in Along Bay. This strange configuration is known as the Nui-dong-Nghi, and its jagged ridges run east from this point right through Tonquin into Kwang-si, and also far north to the heart of the province of Cao-Bang. We traversed the first chain through a pass known as the Deo-Mou-Phieu, which in some places is so narrow that a native pony can only just squeeze between the projecting boulders. This narrow cleft is evidently the thousands-of-years-old work of the waters, which have eaten a way through the calcareous rock. Indeed, there rushed through the pass a rapid though narrow stream, wherein we had to wade knee-high. Between these high stone walls the scenery possessed a savage grandeur I have never seen equalled, and the semi-darkness of the narrow way produced a most awesome effect. A few lines from _La Mort de Rolland_, recited by a comrade during one of the short halts we made, produced such a feeling of intense sadness that I was glad when our little column broke out of these weird surroundings into the bright sunshine beyond. From the pass, which was nearly a mile long, we debouched into a little circular plain, with a superficial area of about 1-1/2 square miles. It was surrounded by high rocky walls, to all appearance without a break in them, and the fort of Cho-Trang was situated almost exactly in the middle of the plain. We found that the position was a solid one. It was rectangular in form, with a small bastion at each angle, and the fortification consisted of a well-built parapet and ditch, round which ran the usual bamboo palisades. Our little detachment of thirty men was lodged in a big, one-roomed hut of clay and bamboo, thatched with macaw palm. It had evidently been prepared for our use, for it was clean and freshly whitewashed, and contained the necessary bedding and mosquito-nets for the detachment. The fort was in command of a lieutenant of the _tirailleurs Tonkinois_--an eccentric individual who had a strong aversion to the Legionaries. Not that he was unnecessarily harsh or unjust towards us, but he had a mania for openly expressing a want of confidence in our discipline, which wounded the pride of the men of our detachment, the majority of whom soon hated him most cordially. He was married, according to native custom, to a Tonquinese woman, who was living in the fort; and this, added to the fact that he was an opium-smoker, did not aid in increasing the small respect with which he was regarded by the Legionaries.