Sunday, March 18th.—Rose at daylight. Another lovely summer morning with, dew on the grass and fragrance in the air; violets everywhere. Finished writing my mail and despatched it by the overland post, a courier who performs the overland journey to Hankow in five days. Breakfasted with Mr. Morgan at eleven, and immediately afterwards set sail, for the gorges and the far West. A still sunny day, with a breath from the eastward just sufficient to fill our sail, but our crew having been reinforced with three additional rowers, we made good progress crossing the now submerged sand-flat which two days ago seemed to occupy a fourth of the river's width. For the summer rise has begun and the level has risen four feet during my short stay at Ichang, and the width is increased by several hundreds. Poling and rowing over this bank, we avoided the deep water and strong current of the cliff-lined shore opposite, until after a distance of three miles, we were compelled to cross the river, and the trackers' labours began. Jumping on the rocks they scrambled with the tow-line around immense boulders, and along narrow ledges, which afforded a bare foothold to the sandal-shod feet of our active Szechuen crew.

The reach of the river above Ichang is about three-quarters of a mile wide and has all the appearance of a mountain loch; no sign of an outlet is visible, and as, toiling against the small rapid or “Chi-pa,” you approach the upper end, the river seems lost entirely.