Lilies of the valley and strawberry leaves showed promise of future beauty, and many kinds of ferns were beginning to unfold their fronds. Pheasants and wood-pigeons were calling from the rocks, and many birds trying their notes in a tentative way. Chipmunks sat up eyeing us with great unconcern, and the treasures of the woods seemed limitless. A babbling brook kept us in constant temptation as our path crossed and recrossed it, and before we reached the top we passed through more than one drift of snow. The views were wonderful, but we could have seen them better by travelling in the opposite direction, and one of the great charms in that case is the way that the traveller suddenly gets a view of the distant sea as he climbs over the summit of the pass. We were three hours climbing up, for the ascent is very stiff, but the descent is much more gradual, and we were glad to be able to mount our beasts, for the midday halt only came after a stage of seven hours. Brilliant gleams of sunshine occasionally burst forth, but the clouds blew up for rain, and we were thankful to reach our resting-place at night before the storm broke. We only managed 90 li (27 miles) in eleven hours, and on our arrival we were surprised and provoked to find in the little village a Japanese encampment, and officers occupying the best inn. After a slight demur we were taken in, and were soon after discussing a light meal, when the door was thrust rudely open, and a Japanese soldier prepared to watch us have it. As he declined to take our hint to go, it became necessary to shut the door in his face. The rain fell heavily in the night, and the wind blew, but a dark morning was a prelude to a fine day.