KOTES OF TBAVEL fiST CHINA. 169 



man no put shot in he guns, Chinaman no put shot in he guns, 

 makey noisey all same !" 



At the distance of about ten miles from Canton is the village of 

 Whampoa, where the foreign shipping lies at anchor, the cargoes of 

 the different vessels being brought down to them from the city in 

 native boats. The steamer passes through a long line of frame and 

 bamboo houses built upon piles, and which are rather difficult of 

 access when the tide is on the ebb. 



Two celebrated pagodas are among the first objects of attraction, 

 but their design and the object of their erection have been so fre- 

 quently described by travellers, that further reference to them is 

 unnecessary. The river between Whampoa and Canton is very nar- 

 row: on the opposite sides, embankments are thrown up to prevent 

 the river from over flooding the paddy fields. The country on 

 either side is under a high state of cultivation, and in whatever 

 direction one chooses to look, from the mountain top to the valley 

 below, on the face of the hills and over the plains, there cannot be 

 seen one single foot of eligible soil which has escaped the tillage of the 

 industrious Chinaman. The hills and mountain sides when 

 practicable are terraced and prolific with sweet potatoes. 



When near to Canton the number of native craft begins to increase 

 in the channel, and the pilot stands in the bow of the steamer waving 

 his hand in every direction as a warning to his countrymen to keep 

 out of the way. Accidents occasional^ happen which can only 

 be attributed to the temerity or stupidity of the sufferer. The 

 boatmen take their own time to retreat, and sometimes risk running 

 across the bows of the steamer rather than to wait for a few seconds 

 until she passes — happening every trip the steamer makes, it be- 

 comes very trying to the temper of the pilot and others belonging 

 to her, who sometimes hurl a well directed missile at the craft 

 which has approached within such an offensive proximity. 



The appearance of Canton from the river is very unprepossessing, 

 the foreign factories, the only buildings of any importance having 

 been recently destroyed by fire. While they stood, with the 

 beautiful gardens in front of them, over which were flying the 

 different foreign flags, there was an aspect of comfort characterising at 

 least a portion of the suburbs of the city which existed not within 

 the walls. 



No steeples nor domes rise up in the distance, no sloping hills 

 crowned with solid edifices adorn the prospect, no smiling grounds 

 surrounding a happy looking abode lie on the water side, no wide- 

 stretching avenue opens to the view the heart of the city, no wharves 



