In looking over the map of Fukien, while planning an expedition in search of animals, strange and new, I had come to the condlusion that the Min River was obviously the key to the exploration of the province, and so I had taken passage from: Shanghai on the Ningshin, and at 10 o'clock on the morning of November 3 looked out upon the scene just described with the interest of one about to realize a long desired ambition. All the way up the estuary of the river my enthusiasm for this new field of research had been growing, for the scenery was exquisite, as must ever be the case where hills, well covered with vegetation, flank a tortuous stretch of water, and it has been my experience, as a field naturalist and sportsman, that where such cover as I had_been viewing occurs there is always plenty of animal life.
The striking up of an acquaintance on board with Mr. J. J. Carroll, a young American engaged in the lumber business, had ended in an invitation to me to join him in a journey up river, where he wanted to do some forest inspection, and as this suited my purpose admirably, since I had already made up my mind to visit the very district he was heading for, I gladly accepted. A fast launch took us and our belongings the 15 miles between the Anchorage and the Customs jetty at Foochow, passing on the way many things of interest, as, for instance, a Chinese naval dock-yard, and yuits of the Chinese fleet. none of which could possibly be of any use to this torn and disrupted republic, whose chief needs are disarmament, the demobilization of her troops, and a return to the peaceful pursuit of Trade and industrial development A Soup Mass or Sutppinc.
The river at Foochow is one solid mass of shipping, large and small. Ocean-going junks, with high sterns like the old Spanish galleons, houseboats, up-river craft,—steam launches, and what not jostle each other, or lie in seried ranks along the quays, while sampans, mostly manned (sic) by women with pretty eyes, unbound feet, and flower-decked hair, dodge about over the clear and rippling waters, carrying people to and fro across the river.
There was scarcely room for our launch to nose its way to the wharf, but at last we got there, and landed. IT was taken along to "Brand's" and comfortably ensconced in a commodious house, so full of the most fascinating objects of Chinese art and curios as to partake more of the nature of a museum than anything else. It would be safe to say that without Mr. Brand, Foochow Id not be Foochow. When anything has to be done, or any information required, it is always "Oh, go to Mr. Brand," nor does it appear in the chronicles of the i European community of the old city
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.