At the office of the Steamship Company we procured tickets, and were amused at having to give our ages to be inscribed on the tickets, which cost yen 14.70 (about twenty-nine shillings) to Wonsan, first class, a passage of between thirty to forty hours in length. The boat was a fair size, and was heavily laden with timber and petroleum. The staff was entirely Japanese, and little English was understood, but European requirements and wishes did not need to be explained, so we had no difficulty. A more lovely sight than the bay as we steamed out of it past the four sentinel rocks at the entrance in the level rays of the setting sun would be hard to imagine, and one could not but remember how securely hidden the Japanese fleet lay there in wait for the Russian before the great battle in which the Baltic fleet was destroyed. Our course followed the outline of the coast pretty closely, and the mountains still had touches of snow on them, like veins outlining their shapes. The mountains come quite close down on to the shore, and little cultivation is to be seen on this side of the peninsula. On the eastern coast of Korea there is a tide of only six or eight inches, whereas on the western coast it is no less than twenty-seven feet three inches, one of the highest tides in the world. There were few birds visible—only an occasional seagull or cormorant, and the white-sailed boats that we had seen thronging the bay of Fusan were conspicuous by their absence. Hour after hour passed without a sign of life being visible. Fortunately the sea was calm, and the next morning but one we reached Wonsan at about 6 A.M. We had to land in small boats, and were met by a party of missionaries, with whom we walked through a good part of the modern town. It is well laid out, and has wide roads leading to the quarters where the American missionaries live on the slopes of hills overlooking the sea and embowered in trees. The Japanese name for Wonsan is Gensan. CHAPTER XII The Diamond Mountains