As we stand on the platform there towers above us, on the left, a large and many‐windowed hotel, the Mount Austin. Along the fronts of its three stories run verandahs with arched colonnades. This is a favourite place of resort for visitors; and many residents, unwilling to face the troubles of house‐keeping, take up their permanent abode here. Outside the station is a line of waiting coolies, ready to convey passengers in their open cane sedan chairs with removable hoods. A Sikh policeman standing close by keeps them in order and cuts short their frequent squabbles. The road and paths, which are cemented and provided with well‐made drains running alongside to carry off the torrential rains of the summer and thus prevent the roadway from being washed away, are too steep in their ascents and descents to make the ricksha—Hong Kong’s favourite vehicle—useful up here. Standing on the narrow ridge of the Peak, we can look down upon the sea on either hand. A wonderful view unfolds itself to our gaze. On the northern side the city of Victoria lies almost straight below us, its streets and roofs forming a chessboard‐pattern. We can easily trace the long, sinuous line of the Queen’s Road. From this height the largest battleships and mail steamers in the harbour look no bigger than walnuts. Beyond, the suburb of Kowloon lies in sharp lines and tiny squares; and behind it rise up the hills of the mainland, dwarfed in size. Now we can see plainly the interminable ranges of mountains—chain after chain—of the Kowloon Peninsula, with the lofty peaks of Tai‐mo‐shan and Tai‐u‐shan over 3,000 feet high. The coastline is straggling and indented with numerous bays, the shores rising up in steep, grassy slopes to the hills or presenting a line of rocky cliffs to the waves. Here and there pretty cultivated valleys run back from the sea to the never‐far‐distant mountains. Turning round, we look down the grass‐clad slopes of the south side of the island to tiny, sandy bays and out over the broad expanse of the sea, in which lie many large and small islands. Over a hundred can be counted from the elevation of the Peak. Close by, to the west, is the largest of them all—the barren and treeless Lantau, which was once nearly chosen instead of Hong Kong as the site of the British settlement. Below us, on the southern shore of our island, lie the practically abandoned towns of Stanley and Aberdeen.