After floating off the sand-bank, and getting an offing, we were within the Gulf of Pechili, and determined to make for one or other of its ports, but on the first day we encountered a very heavy nor'-wester, which blew us far out of the Gulf. When, after lasting a day and a night, the gale abated, we were well down the Yellow Sea, and the skipper, or Ty Kong, whose name was Sam-Sing, determined to hold on for the port where the junk's owners dwelt. I had no objection to make to this, nor had the mandarin, who possessed friends and relatives in the south. The soldiers on board, however, were very discontented and mutinous, and as they considerably outnumbered the crew I began to fear trouble. They were all from northern provinces and had no desire to go south. Their language was scarcely intelligible even to their nominal countrymen. The immense diversity of dialects in China is, in fact, a great hindrance to progress by preventing the unification of the people. After some excited discussion they were prevailed upon to acquiesce by the solemn promise of the mandarin to make arrangements with the authorities for their return to their own parts, or failing that to send them back at his own expense; besides, the representation that to turn north again would most likely end in capture by the Japanese vessels, through whose present cruising-ground the gale had luckily blown us, had great weight. I was vastly amused, during my voyage in the _King-Shing_, by the superstitions of her crew. Their devotion to their idols was indeed truly edifying. A religious man, according to his lights, was Sam-Sing, and rigidly punctual in the daily observance of incense-burning, gong-banging, and other rites supposed to be propitiatory of the deity. He was also, however, greatly addicted to opium-smoking, and when under the influence of the drug, of which, as an old stager, he could consume great quantities without being stupefied, the idea of the occult power of the goddess, never absent from his mind, was turned completely upside down. When free from the fumes of opium nobody could have been more respectful to the Josses, but when intoxicated, and with the weather threatening, he openly poured upon them abuse, reviling, and suspicion. He usually started a pipe of opium about noon, and the change in his demeanour came round gradually during the afternoon. In the morning he was sober and pious, in the evening intoxicated and blasphemous, particularly, as I have said, when the weather was bad. "As for that infernal Chin-Tee," he would say in effect, shaking his fist in the direction of the idol, "it's all her fault we're in this mess. What's the use of her--lazy harridan! Much she cares what becomes of us"--and so on till overpowered by excess. When by the next morning he had slept off his debauch, and came round to recollection of his enormities, his penitence knew no bounds; he would prostrate himself in the