At Kharbin there was a hopeless scrimmage for places, as those booked in advance for passengers from the south had all been appropriated by a large party of Americans at Vladivostock, and the ladies had discreetly retired to bed. It is always asserted that there is plenty of room on the Russian State Express in contradistinction to the International Sleeping Car, and that it is unnecessary to book places in advance. Evidently this was a fallacy, for every berth was full, and it was only after long and acrimonious arguing that the officials agreed to put on an extra carriage, and a very dirty one it proved to be. Great dissatisfaction was caused by this arrangement, and we were over an hour late in starting. We had been frequently assured that we should find the State Express more comfortable than the International, but such is by no means the case. The only point in which it excels is in the smoothness of running, in every other respect it is inferior. The carriages are smaller, there is no dressing-room in the first-class coupés, there are no second-class coupés (only carriages for four people), the washing basins would not hold water, there was no soap or towel, the restaurant car was far too small, and the meals were not to the taste of any of the passengers. A piano in the restaurant does not compensate for such deficiencies. PART III The Face of Russian Turkestan CHAPTER XV Through Siberia The railway from Kharbin passes through Manchuria in a north-westerly direction till it comes to the town of that name, where the customs examination takes place before entering Russian territory. In a magazine article recently written by a French lady, she complains of having been examined at four different places on the line, and in a very thorough manner, the sleeves of coats being ripped open, and the bedding of the sleeping car being pulled to pieces, but we saw nothing of this sort, and I think there must have been some suspicion on the part of the police. Registered luggage is a much more serious affair, and endless were the stories we heard from fellow-passengers of the losses they had sustained—one passenger had waited a whole week for his at Moscow. For those who like ourselves take all their luggage in the railway carriage, the examination was a mere farce, consisting of the verbal inquiry, “Have you any spirits, tobacco, or playing cards?” to which is sometimes added a cursory examination of the bedding to see if any dutiable article has been concealed there.