SHOOTING IN CHINA. 55 



a sketch of an expedition, and the ground visited. 

 Fancy yourself on a rattan-built wharf running into 

 the harbor from the godowns at the back of the 

 Danish consulate, a handsome lorcha of about sixty 

 tons, taut-hauled up to her anchor, waiting impa- 

 tiently a hundred yards from the shore for the 

 moment of departure, while two or three sampans 

 are incessantly plying back and forth, loaded with 

 guns, dogs, portmanteaus, and good things for the 

 inward man, ranging over the interval that exists 

 between pate, de foie gras and Madame Cliquot. 

 At last the finishing load is delivered, time is up, 

 the blue-peter is hoisted at the fore, and at the 

 instructions of our kind-hearted host, we descend 

 into his gig, and are rapidly on board the larger 

 craft. The wind, which is fresh, just suits; a few 

 turns on the somewhat primitive capstan trips the 

 anchor, and shaking out the immense mainsail, her 

 head is pointed for the Cap-shee-moon Pass, the 

 great high-road of traffic between Hong Kong and 

 Canton. 



As we leave the labyrinth of shipping and junks 

 of every nationality and shape, and draw farther 

 clear of the land, our speed increases to eight knots. 

 The pass reached, two or three tacks have to be 



