evening stand on the Customs Jetty at Amoy, at about six o'clock we should see the same old gentleman come there and look wistfully out to sea for the two junks that will never return.

In the seventeenth century, Amoy, and the island of Formosa, which we shall visit later on, were in the possession of the muchfeared and celebrated pirate, Koxinga, who organized very powerful gangs of banditti on shore, and a strong piratical fleet, with which he swept the China Seas, striking terror and dismay into the hearts of civilian and official alike, the whole of the Fuhkien. province at one time paying tribute to him.

In different places, both in Amoy and Kulangsoo, are yet to be seen the ruined watch-towers, forts, and entrenchments of this noted rebel chief, whose tomb stands about a mile to the southward of Amoy, at the side of a road leading to the village of Amkang. It is a magnificent structure, comprising two granite figures of colossal size, nearly 10ft. in height and 3ft in breadth across the shoulders. There is also a well-sculptured horse, richly caparisoned, but in some parts chipped and much mutilated-which is supposed to represent the charger once ridden by the occupant of the tomb. There are many interesting spots worthy of a visit, and a climb up to the "Thousand Rocks," "Rocking Stone," and "Fairy's Foot" temples well repays the artistically-inclined rambler. A favourite excursion among Amoy residents is to Pagoda Island, named from an ancient pagoda there, used as a beacon by junkswhich is situated on the Changchow river, where some good shooting and fishing can be enjoyed by those fond of sport. And the archeologist will find that the country round about Amoy is very interesting-not only for its wild mountain scenery, but for its ancient relics of bygone dynasties, which peep out from the hoary background of remote antiquity, and please the imagination with suggestive outlines of past glory.

XVI. THE SERPENT'S BREATH. *

MONG the large number of foreigners in China very few, except some of the "old hands," have experienced the

discomforts and dangers which one may expect to encounter on the China coast, while voyaging in a junk. Therefore, perhaps it would interest the reader were I to narrate some incidents connected with a passage I made in one of these unwieldy-looking vessels, that exactly resemble in rig, build, and accommodation, those seen by the ancient mariners of Marcus Antoninus, nearly 2,000 years ago.

During my residence in Amoy, I frequently went up country on shooting expeditions, sometimes accompanied by friends, but more often alone. I had shot all over the neighbourhood of Amoy within a radius of sixty miles, and at last determined to seek other hunting grounds less frequented by foreigners; and so consulted the old lowdah of the Customs house-boat, who was an acknowledged authority on these matters. He had frequently acted as my guide on similar excursions, besides being a keen sports man himself, and a dangerous one too, when equipped for the chase with an awful and ancient weapon which was a cross between a blunderbuss and a gingall. He told me of a place on the mainland, near his native village-some seventy miles up the coast, between Foochow and Amoy-where game was plentiful, and sportsmen rare. I determined to try my luck there, and at once made preparations for a couple of weeks' outing. It was not safe to * "The Serpent's Breath" originally appeared in the columns of the London Globe, December 12th, 1894.

venture out on the open sea in a house-boat, and no coasting steamers went near there, so there was no alternative but to scramble over steep and rugged tiers of hills and barren mountains or go by junk. I chose the latter course. My "boy," Ah Chutwho always remained at home to look after the house and the welfare of his numerous friends, whom he often entertained at my expense-seemed equally anxious that I should dispose of myself in this manner; and the same evening he gravely introduced to me a rakish-looking old villain, an uncle or fourth cousin of his, whom he modestly described as a "large hearted and very square captain" of a "number one" trading junk that would sail on the morrow for Foochow, with a cargo of pumeloes and earthenware. The said "large-hearted and very square captain" would graciously undertake to put in and land me at my destination for the small sum of twenty dollars-which, after three hours' haggling, he reduced to ten. Of course I had to make the best of a bad bargain, out of which the faithful Ah Chut no doubt got a good commission. I found my own "chow," which consisted of tinned meats, several pounds of biscuits, and a few bottles of "Old Smuggler," with which I usually fortified myself against all sea maladies. These are likely to be particularly malicious when one is placed at the mercy of the waves in such a strangely fashioned craft as a junk, whose hull is supposed to represent a sea monster-the high stern for its uplifted tail, the eyed-bows for its head, and the stayless masts and sails for the fins, and whose cabins look more like niches in a sepulchre than accommodation for human beings.

Next morning I arose early. On looking out of my window, which faced the harbour, I noticed that some of the sailors on the "numba one" junk were already hauling in the grass-rope cable, ready to "cat" the wooden anchor, while others hoisted and wetted the huge lateen mat sails, and made other preparations to leave with the flood tide.

I hurried on my clothes, snatched a hasty breakfast, bade adieu to my little wife, who seemed very anxious, and to the smilingfaced Ah Chut, and, on arriving on board, received a hearty and obsequious welcome from the "large-hearted" captain. After

having, with well-feigned reluctance and much kontowing, secured my passage-money, he ushered me through a little door into a small odorous niche in the stern, which smelt of cockroaches, opium, and incense, but which he nevertheless extolled as the most comfortable state-room in the ship.

I groped about this hole until I found my gear, which Ah Chut had carefully deposited under a coil of rotten rope that had been coiled round in the form of a cradle that I might sleep there. I set about to make the den as habitable as possible, and had just completed my arrangements when the loud beating of a large gong on deck made me aware that we were under way. I crept out on deck, where all was noise and confusion. The captain was cursing vigorously, expectorating indiscriminately, yelling various orders, and working the tiller ropes, and the others were following his example. One old mariner stood aft near the stern-lamp, beating the gong and firing off crackers to propitiate "joss," the gong-beating being responded to by other junks which we passed on our way down the harbour, and altogether they made a most infernal din, which only the Chinese know how to make.

It was fine bracing weather, and, as the haze lifted, a wild and picturesque panorama was unfolded to the gaze; range upon range of lofty mountains looming up in various shapes until lost in the blue distance, mingling with the clouds, and forming an imposing background, enhanced the beauty of the ever-changing scene.

A gentle north-easterly wind now sprang up, and soon carried us out of the harbour and clear of the land, although we kept it in sight throughout the day, during which we were favoured with a steady breeze and smooth sea. Towards evening, however, the wind fell light, as it generally does on that coast, and the heavy mat sails began to flap idly against the tall masts, that creaked incessantly as the vessel lazily rolled to the gentle swell. At five o'clock the crew sat down on the deck in a group, and partook of their evening meal, or supper, which consisted of boiled rice, salt fish, and garlic, flavoured with common white. samshoo. They all seemed happy and contented with their humble lot, and much merriment, tinctured with some very ribald jokes—

some at my expense-passed between them while they deftly manipulated their "chop-sticks" with voracious appetite.

I was leaning against the rail aft and admiring the rustic group of motley rovers, upon whose sun-tanned faces the dying rays of the fast-setting sun were playing, when suddenly one of them. started up, and, pointing seaward, cried, "Gwei chwan! gwei chwan!" (Devil junk, or phantom junk, in the Amoy dialect.)

All hands excitedly crowded to the bulwarks, eagerly gazing in the direction indicated. At some distance away to the eastward a dismasted and apparently deserted junk was drifting on the lonely waste of calm waters, and looked grim and uncanny standing out against the uncertain light, between the dark shadowy sea and the sky.

Somehow this derelict seemed to be approaching us rapidly, probably because the tide was setting our way, landward, and our sails kept us from drifting so fast.

A panic now seized all hands except the skipper, who swore right lustily and gave strict orders to beat the big gong and fire off crackers, which the crew did with a will, while some of them, being fearful lest the "devil junk" should, in spite of the aweinspiring noise, draw nearer, put out a large oar over the stern and yuhloed for dear life. But it was hard work to propel such a box-bowed craft as ours through the water; and to the consternation of all, the wreck gradually approached nearer.

I am not usually superstitious or unnecessarily nervous, but I really began to feel most uncomfortable, and imagined all kinds of unpleasant things-pirates being uppermost in my mind. So, for company's sake, I drew near the "large-hearted and very square captain," and, with a bold smile of feigned indifference, asked him why he did not board the castaway junk?

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Haiya!" he exclaimed, with a shudder at the bare idea of such a thing. "Why that's the phantom Foochow junk; would you have us all killed by the serpent's breath?"

"It's bad enough as it is," he continued; "we are too near now to escape the ill-luck that awaits us. Calm now-yes-hold on, though, we may be clinging to--."

The rest of the sentence was lost in a terrible discharge