Our way lay first along the railway line. On the right‐hand side were the station yards, engine sheds, and machinery shops, all now in the hands of the Russians, who had removed the spare rolling stock and plant found there and sent them to Port Arthur. The Muscovite believes in war being self‐supporting. To the left, behind the station, lay the rookery of squalid Chinese houses, where I had hunted for a dinner the night before. Farther away lay Shanhaikwan. High battlements and lofty towers enclosed the city, the sides of which ran down to the Great Wall of China. For ahead of us, a mile away athwart the railway, lay a long line of grass‐grown earthworks, with here and there fragments of ruined masonry peering out among the herbage and bushes that clothed it. It was that wondrous fortification which stretches for more than a thousand miles along the ancient boundary of China, climbing mountains, plunging into valleys, and running through field and forest—a monumental and colossal work that has never served to roll back the tide of war from the land it was built to guard. Through a wide breach in it the railway passes on to the north, to Manchuria where the Russian Bear now menaces the integrity of the Celestial Kingdom. Before reaching the Wall our way turned off sharp to the right; so, leaving the railway, we followed a rough country road which led to the Chinese village that sheltered the Gurkhas. It was crossed by a broad stream two or three feet deep. As we were grumbling at the necessity of taking off boots and gaiters in order to wade it, a sturdy Chinaman strolled up and looked extremely amused at our distress. We promptly seized him, and made signs that we wanted him to carry us across. The Celestial smilingly assented, and kicked off his felt‐soled shoes. Hoisting my companion on his back, he waded with him to the other side, and then returned to fetch me. When we rewarded him with a small silver coin he seemed extremely surprised; and he made frantic signs, which we interpreted as meant to express his desire to remain on the spot in readiness to ferry us over on our return. Without further difficulty we reached the Gurkha mess, where we found our friends on the point of setting out to visit the Great Wall. So the whole party walked back along the road by which Labertouche and I had come, and at the stream found our ferryman awaiting us with a beaming smile. He eagerly proffered his services, and conveyed us all across in turn. Payment being duly made, he expressed his gratitude in voluble, if unintelligible, language.