of Manila and Ningpo * men, it was a very anxious time, and no doubt some of them thought I was temporarily bereft of my senses, especially when I brought out a dozen of my white shirts and all the straw hats we could muster, and made them dress up in them. They were also quite at a loss to account for the painted logs. But when these were all in readiness, I had them rested against the closed side-ports, and stationed a man, armed with musket and cutlass, at each. I now served out to every man three dozen rounds of ammunition, and had the two loaded nine-pounders, which I intended to work myself, placed aft, and partially trained them in readiness.

"The sun was slowly sinking, and it began to grow a little dusk. Nearer and nearer came the two pirate junks, the large hawser from bow to bow being gradually drawn in, and the stern sweeps plied more vigorously to give the necessary speed for their diabolical scheme. Now a great beating of loud-sounding gongs and the firing of crackers commenced, and wild, bloodcurdling yells of fierce hatred and defiance made every man grasp his weapon more firmly, and prepare to sell his life dearly.

"All was oppressively silent aboard my little schooner, and the hands, standing in readiness at their respective ports, one and all looked towards me, awaiting my orders.

"Calmness was everything. So I chewed away at my lighted cigar, and calculated the distance.

"Six hundred yards-five hundred-about three hundred. Now they were about two hundred yards; the din was fearful; the time had come. I gave the first order: 'Raise the ports, men!'

"The large square side-ports were triced up-I stood with the fuse-strings of my two guns in hand. I pulled and shouted. 'Shove out the spars!'

"The shot from the nine-pounders simply raked their decks, and, with the last command, out went my mummy guns.

"Another minute and the pirates would have swept alongside; but the great hawser was slackened away and hauled aboard, and they sheered off as they saw our formidable array of guns and * Ningpo and Cantonese men are considered the best seamen on the coast of China.

the white-bloused marines, as they thought, ready to work them. "Bing seun! bing seun!' (man-of-war! man-of-war!) I heard them shout as they manoeuvred out of the way, expecting a broadside from us every moment. Getting my men aft, I fired volley after volley into them; and, while doing this, a breeze of wind came rustling along-the cloud-bank had reached us-the sails filled out, and away we went scudding before it.

"It was a mighty narrow shave! And you may be sure I took good care to be properly armed next voyage. But my dummy guns did their work-they saved a good little ship and her crew.' This ended that series of yarns. The captain went up on the bridge, and I took a stroll on deck until dinner, after which I turned in for the night. Next morning we kept in near the land. and at noon the day after arrived at Chefoo, and I took leave of the hospitable captain after a very pleasant passage.

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XI. CHEFOO AND THE FAMINE.

0

WING to the salubrity of the climate of Chefoo, which combines the advantages of invigorating air, sea-bathing, absence of tropical heats, and a dry, healthy atmosphere, it has become the summer resort of residents from the Southern ports who have very appropriately denominated it "The Brighton of China." The proper name of Chefoo is Yentai, and, as a writer says, "the city actually designated by the Treaty of Tientsin as that to be thrown open is Têng-chow Fu, the seat of government for the prefecture in which Yen-tai is situated; but as its harbour is merely an open roadstead, the establishment of a port for foreign trade was fixed early in 1861, at the bay of Yen-tai, which was already occupied as a naval station by the French portion of the expedition despatched against Pekin in 1860, the British headquarters having been fixed at the Miao Tao Islands. about 35 miles to the eastward and almost opposite the city of Têng-chow Fu." The name of Chefoo, or, to speak more correctly, Chi-fu, is really derived from the name of a harbour in the same bay, but unconnected with Yen-tai.

The province of Shantung, in which Chefoo is situated, was comparatively unknown to and unexplored by foreigners until, through the Tientsin Treaty, it was opened to foreign trade and travel. Its climate much resembles that of the Northern States of America, with their awful blizzards in winter; and its area is estimated at upwards of 66,000 square miles, with a population of quite 30,000,000. The interior of this province is almost a vast plain traversed from south to north by the Grand Canal, and

irrigated by numerous tributary streams of the Yellow River which also crosses the low-lying lands.

The inland productions consist of tobacco, herbal drugs, cereals, and a peculiar kind of coarse silk, known as pongee, obtained from the wild silkworms which thrive on oak leaves. But the chief articles of export from Chefoo, and also from the more northern Treaty port of Newchwang, and in which Europeans are interested, are beans, bean-cake, and bean-oil. The bean-cake is made in this manner: the beans or peas are thrown into a large round trough, the contents of which are crushed by a heavy stone roller, kept in motion by one or two mules. The pulse is freed from the oil by means of a primitive hand-press, and then packed in circular frames or hoops, which turn out solid round blocks or cakes about two inches thick and of varying diameter.

I arrived at Chefoo just in time for the half-yearly Regatta, and had the honour of sailing a very cranky boat called the "Tseuta," and coming in last, after a splendid cruise round the bay, but a sorry exhibition of my sailing prowess. We had a very fine day of it, and many ladies graced the occasion with their presence, and were most enthusiastic, greatly encouraging the competitors with their applause. The much-coveted Ladies' Prize was gallantly won by a fast little cutter-rigged boat named the "Wind Hawk." The Customs light-tender, the "Chi-Ming," which was moored opposite the Customs Club, was the flag-ship. There was a good breeze from the south-east, but the wind was somewhat unsteady. I also had the honour of coming in last in the Six-mile Sailing Race; but, judging from my experience in the long outward tack, I should imagine it was six leagues. I was received with ringing cheers as I came ambling home up the harbour on my beam-ends, about half an hour after the rest. But it was excellent fun.

On the first Sunday, a calm sunny day, I went out for a ramble, first visiting Li Hung Chang's temple, where Sir Thomas Wade and the Grand Secretary signed the celebrated Chefoo Convention in September, 1876, which stands on a hill to the southward, and from which a splendid view of the harbour and surrounding country can be obtained.

It was pleasant to stand on that eminence and contemplate the wild yet rural aspect the pretty harbour of Chefoo presented when viewed from the south. At the back-far to the southward-distant mountains, which were lost to one when sheltered by the dark hills that surround the Settlement, reared themselves in solitary grandeur, forming a noble background and hiding the plains beyond. To the northward and eastward, a tract of undulating country, studded at intervals with small native farms and cultivated patches of land, stretched for a distance of two or three miles to the base of high hills which branch away inland, where fresh highlands again rise up, forming a lonely range known as the Santien-men, or Three Heavenly Gates, beyond which, to the south-east, lies the old walled city of Hai-Yang, among grassy pasture lands.

I remained here exploring the temple for some time, and in the afternoon, having partaken of some refreshment that my coolies had carried for me, I again made a start, following a narrow footpath which ran parallel with the beach in a north-westerly direction, skirting the steep cliffs, from which I obtained a splendid view of the west side of the bay, where the small native village of old Chifu nestles beneath high hills, and which is chiefly inhabited by fishing folk, who are there nicely sheltered from the rough northerly gales of winter.

I then branched off to the right, and keeping to the path, crossed near a desolate stretch of land known to the Chinese as the "Forty-le-Beach," with which a most lamentable tragedy is connected.

Shortly after my departure from Chefoo, and subsequent to a very large and important seizure, of which I shall speak later on, and which had been made there, the Commissioner of Customs suddenly disappeared, and his body was afterwards recovered near this lonely place.

Mr. Edgar, Acting-Commissioner of Customs at Chefoo, and myself were directly concerned in this large seizure. My life, in consequence was anonymously threatened several times; but fortunately, I was transferred almost immediately afterwards to a Southern port, and Mr. Edgar went away on three months' leave,