THE sun had shone brilliantly and torridly all day over the mud-laden river, the surrounding paddy-fields, and the copper-coloured backs of the sweating Chinese boatmen as they laboured at their yuloes in sampen and junk. It had, indeed, been a hot day even for up-river, and the extreme humidity of the atmosphere after the rains made the heat felt in every pore of the skin, so that even the half-naked steersmen of the junks sweated at their rudders. But now the sun is setting. On all sides can be heard the rattle of the winches and the creaking as the heavy mat sails slide down the mast of the junks, a splash as the stone-weighted wooden anchor drops over the bows, and each junk in time swings to its rattan-twisted cable in the pea-soup known as fresh water in Chinese rivers. The heavy damp air is suddenly rent by a bugle note which signals the fact that the flag which represents the sovereignty of King Edward the Seventh is being hauled down till eight a.m. the next day on board the gunboat lying in the muddy river. A careful study of the illustrated weekly papers will give us a fair knowledge of the appearance of the average naval officer, and we shall also gather from this same source that when he’s not rushing about after niggers with a field-gun, he’s employed attending balls at various Government Houses, or talking to beautiful ladies on a huge electric-lighted quarter-deck, what time the moon calmly shines on some picturesque Mediterranean harbour. Undoubtedly our friends have experienced all these social joys in their time, but at present they are far removed from such soothing influences. Still, we have to deal with a gunboat of some pretensions, one wherein a gossamer vest and white trousers are not considered _de rigueur_ for dinner. The wardroom is much as others in a “bug trap,” but it has one great adornment, a punkah, which is pulled during meal hours by a diminutive and quite expressionless “makee learn.” The lights are burning and the table laid for four, the “makee learn” is waiting by the pantry hatch ready to pull the punkah, and, on the entry of an officer, comes in and, sitting on a stool, begins to violently jerk the rope leading through a brass sheave to the small punkah which flaps away some large and well-fed bluebottles. The officer is smoking a cigarette, and dressed in white duck trousers, a soft white shirt, and white mess-jacket, all of which goes to prove that we are in a smart ship. He strolls idly over to the thermometer hanging on the bulkhead and observes that the mercury stands at 84°. He idly places the burning end of his cigarette near the bulb of the thermometer and watches the mercury rise to 95°, while the “makee learn” violently agitates the punkah. Having performed this simple operation he sits in a cane chair, and another officer enters and flings himself on a settee without any remark. “Good evening, Pill,” says the first officer. “Pretty hot to-night.”