the horses, and as a load, too, they do not make such hard, unyielding objects against the side of a horse as any leather, tin, or wooden contrivance. My bed and field-kit just balanced upon one pony; my provisions and servants' baggage fitted another. There was one spare pony. The interpreter and myself rode; the servants were mounted upon the baggage animals, the coolie walked.
At one time, when I was travelling with a German friend, our retinue was exceedingly numerous; we each had our personal establishment and a combined staff for the expedition. This, however, is not quite the way to rough it. It was, moreover, comparatively expensive and a bother, inasmuch that so large a cavalcade required no little managing. There was, however, something luxurious and enjoyable in that procession across Korea, although it is not the plan to be adopted in general.
There was little further to be accomplished by me in Korea. My journey overland had taken me from Fusan to Seoul, and again from Seoul to Won-san, my examination of the inland and coast centres of mining and industry was concluded: the beauties of the Diamond Mountains, with their Buddhist monasteries, had been studied. At the end of these labours, I was weary and ill at ease; moreover the time was approaching when my long journey overland from Seoul, the ancient capital of Korea, to Vladivostock, the seat of Russian authority upon the Pacific coast, would have to be begun. The heat in Seoul had been most oppressive, when one day Mr. Gubbins, the British Minister, suggested a short spell of rest and recuperation upon an island a few miles up the Han River. Before nightfall, my staff and I were floating, with the turn of the tide, up the estuary of the river. Sea breezes blew over the mighty
