110 THE LAND OF PEACH BLOOM 



The scene, as usual at this season, was one of nature's 

 very daintiest. Peach trees grew in profusion on either 

 bank; they were in full bloom, and the ground was carpeted 

 with a layer of the delicate pink and white petals fallen from 

 the thick masses of blossom. Overhead, rainbow tints slowly 

 stole across the evening sky and tinged every cloud, now 

 crimson, now pink, now vaporous amethyst, down to the 

 far horizon. The fisherman, tired after his hard but honest 

 labour, which rarely brought him in more than just enough 

 for the bare needs of the next day, stood in the stern of his 

 boat languidly urging the lazy craft homeward; he had 

 pushed back the heavy bamboo hat that sheltered his head 

 from the sun on hot days and the rain in wet weather, to give 

 the soft evening breezes that came and went, laden with the 

 scent of peach flowers, full play upon his sunburnt face. 

 In a little while the west began to glow with the radiance of 

 sunset, and as the golden orb sank behind the hilltops a 

 delightful charm fell upon the land. Gradually the shadows 

 grew longer and longer till they melted away in the evening 

 mist, and save for the regular and alternate creak and plash 

 of the paddles, all was quiet and still. 



All at once the fisherman, who seemed to be in a reverie, 

 fixed his eyes intently on a curious patch of white light which 

 appeared at the foot of a hill not far distant. He had never 

 seen it before, and wondering what it might possibly be, 

 he resolved to go as near as he could to the spot and find 

 out. 



The boat had been gliding along without a sound; but 

 now, as though it had a purpose in view, it surged forward 

 clumsily under the quick and vigorous strokes of the paddles, 

 rocking the while like some animated thing, and throwing 

 up a wash on either side of the stream as it plunged ahead. 



Presently the fisherman came to a break in the line of 

 the peach orchards, and after rounding a bend he found 

 himself almost opposite the strange, weird light. It looked 

 like an opening in the hillside through which daylight from 

 another world had found an outlet. Never having heard of 

 any openings, or caves, in his native hills, the fisherman 

 became more puzzled than ever. With a few extra strong 

 strokes of his paddles he finally ran the broad bow of the 

 boat on to the bank; then quickly drawing in the paddles, 

 jumped ashore; and, after hauling the boat well up the 

 slope so that it should not drift away, he dashed across the 

 strip of country before him and made straight for the my- 

 sterious luminous patch not more than a few hundred paces 

 away. As he drew nearer he could distinctly see that there 

 really was an opening in the hillside through which the light 

 issued, and the light grew brighter as he approached it. 



