the Last Town in China 125 
stern-sweep, being washed down a quarter of a mile during 
the passage. Then came a long hot ride as the sun rose 
higher and the valley became more and more shut in. In 
the afternoon we left the river and crossing a high spur 
looked right down on to the little mountain plain of a few 
hundred acres, where Batang stands. There were numerous 
caravans coming in and the road was blocked with mules, 
but Gan-ton and I, dashing ahead, rode into the city at five 
o'clock. 
Numbers of Tibetan girls and priests were lounging 
about, gossiping and washing their clothes in the stream, 
as we crossed the little stone bridge and rode up the steep 
cobbled street to the mission house; and every one stared 
at us in surprise. We had covered the 180 miles of moun- 
tain road in six days. 
