On the following day we entered the “Cap, sing, moon,” for a short time: it is regarded as a safe and is certainly a picturesque harbour, but lately it has been left by many of the opium ships for another, by some considered a safer harbour, and called the “Cum, sing, moon,” formed by different islands, and the main land to the northward of Macao, and distant about eighteen miles from that settlement. The “Cap, sing, moon,” has some towering verdant mountains, with fertile valleys, and little thatched cottages of fishermen and others, peering through a thicket of foliage. This is contrasted at another part by barren hills, destitute of any beauty, excepting what may be scantily imparted by a few stunted shrubs or ferns. Well may this be called a celestial empire, wherein moons and stars condescend to take up their local habitation. It is ludicrous to hear the inhabitants talking of having intercourse with the celestial people in the different moons, “Where did you come from last?” “I came from the other moon,” was a very common question and answer. On the 14th of September we sailed over to the “Cum, sing, moon,”[10] and anchored at six o’clock, P.M.; this possessed far more extensive and picturesque beauties than the harbour we had left.[11] The entrance is, however, difficult, and even dangerous for strangers; yet, after having been once, the same person could easily take a ship in or out at any time without risk, taking advantage of the tides. From the land around this place not being so elevated as in the rival harbour, the gusts that descend from the gullies in stormy weather are not so violent, and a ship is consequently not so liable to drive as has been experienced during some severe typhoons, which occurred a short time previous to our arrival. Many of those _outlaw ships_ that trade in opium, (one of the most important, although prohibited, branches of commerce in the Chinese empire,) remain either in this harbour, or that of the “Cap, sing, moon,” during the season of the year that typhoons are expected, and anchor off the island of Lintin during the fine-weather months. One part of this trade in opium is carried on by the Chinese smuggling boats, which take it from the European receiving ships stationed here, or more properly speaking at “Lintin,” (this being merely a temporary place of refuge from typhoons).