These pioneer missionaries in Shantung as promptly as possible sought, first by itineration, and later by opening new stations, to carry the gospel far and wide over the province. In this they labored under one serious inconvenience from which their brethren in much of south China are exempt. Down there it is easy to travel extensively on the rivers and the numerous canals. In Shantung the one great river is the Hoang, or Yellow, running from the west toward the east; and the one important canal is the Grand, running north and south; and both of these are so far remote from Chefoo and Tengchow that in the itineration of the missionaries from these places they were of little use. As a consequence they had to adopt the other methods of travel customary in that region. Even to-day, though a railway runs from the coast at Kiaochou, across Shantung to Tsinan fu, and another across the west end of the province and passing through Tsinan fu is almost completed, much of the territory is no more accessible than half a century ago. The traveler can hire a mule, or more probably a donkey, and—throwing his bedding across the packsaddle—make his way, with the owner of the animal running along as driver, to the place where, if he proceeds farther, he must hire a second mule or donkey; and so on to the end of his journey. One can also travel by wheelbarrow. These conveyances are considered to be quite genteel, and are much patronized by Chinese women. The wheels are big and clumsy, and, being innocent of oil, creak fearfully, and as the wheelbarrows are without springs the passenger is jolted excruciatingly. They are propelled by a man pushing by the handles, and often with the aid of another, and sometimes a donkey in front, and it may be with a sail to catch the wind. In the hilly regions the shentza, or mule litter, is common. In describing this conveyance Mateer said in one of his Sunday-school letters: The motion is various and peculiar. Sometimes the mules step together, and sometimes they don’t. Now you have a plunging motion like the shaking of a pepper box, then comes a waving motion like the shaking of a sieve; and then a rolling motion like the rocking of a cradle, and then by turns these various motions mix up and modify each other in endless variety. I have often thought that if a man had a stiff joint, one of these shentzas would be a good thing to shake it loose. You are completely at the mercy of these two mules. If you are sitting up you think that you would be more comfortable lying down, and if you are lying down you think that you would be more comfortable sitting up. There is no relief from incessant shaking but to get out and walk. The most genteel mode of travel is a two-wheeled cart, provided always that the track called a road is wide and level enough to permit it to be used. I fall back on the Sunday-school letter for a description of it: