At seven the next morning all the holiday traps were carried out and placed on the landing, where they were speedily surrounded by a crowd of jeering natives who scoffingly enquired when the party proposed to start. They endured this until four o'clock in the afternoon, when the vessel did at last put in an appearance. They embarked as rapidly as possible, and began their journey at night. There was only one cabin, which was dirty beyond description, and swarming with spiders and cockroaches. In the middle of the night it began to rain, so they wrapped themselves up in cloaks and waterproofs and slept on deck under the tables. One of them asked the Malay skipper why the vessel was going so slowly. Said he, with an amused smile, "This boat go half-speed. This boiler got many holes. Go full-speed--burst!" Then he chuckled. When about two miles from Anghin the recently mended propeller broke and sank. Everything was landed by means of one small boat. The sanitarium had been untenanted for many months by human beings, but thousands of ants, spiders, cockroaches, and lizards had made themselves at home there. The men opened some tins of kerosine and flooded the place with it. All the creatures that were not destroyed by it were driven away by its obnoxious smell, and in a short time the place was rendered habitable. Perhaps the reader will now understand why it is that European residents in Siam seldom go to the sea-side. There is not much difference between a fishing and an agricultural village. There is the same double row of houses with the street between, and the back doors of each of the houses nearest the sea or river, facing the water. Along the beach small heaps of sea-shells are found at intervals of a few yards. They have been collected by the villagers, who send them in small sailing boats to Bangkok where they are used for making lime. The lime-kilns are made of bricks in the shape of a shallow box. The floor has a number of apertures, and some fire is placed beneath. In the box a layer of shells lies upon a layer of straw and charcoal. Then comes another layer of fuel and another layer of shells, and so on until the box is full. A blast of air is driven into it by a fan connected to treadles. There is no covering to the kiln, and the fumes that rise have several times been fatal to the workmen. [Illustration: KHLONG NEAR PETCHABOOREE. _Page 174._]