of the rest of Korea led me to examine the soil wherever an uprooted tree or a freshly dug deer-pit furnished the opportunity. Beyond a thin coating of leaf-mold on the surface, there was seldom anything else than broken pumice, broken to the size of a very coarse sand. According to the hunters, this was the subsoil everywhere in the forest. . . . Nearing the mountain, we get the clearest evidence of the character and recency, geologically speaking, of the eruptions which spread this vast quantity of volcanic material over such a wide area. Ten miles due south of the White Mountain, the Yalu, now eight or ten yards broad and very shallow, flows between banks like a railway cutting, sheer, clean, and absolutely devoid of vegetation, for denudation was too rapid to permit the slightest growth. The sections thus exposed were often over a hundred feet in depth, and at one of the deepest portions I counted thirteen layers of black volcanic dust, all varying in thickness, and each separated from the layer above by a thin stratum of volcanic mold. So fine was this dust that the least breath of wind caught it and scattered it freely over the adjoining snow, to which it gave a grimy, sooty appearance. The forests of South Manchuria, though uninhabited now, were, we learn from Chinese records, the home of many races in ages past. The comparatively recent kingdom of Ko-ku-rye, which arose in the first century b. c., is said to have occupied the Ch'ang-pai Shan and the head-waters of the Yalu River." Very few, if any, traces of these ancient peoples are found now; but this is hardly to be wondered at, considering their low civilization and the temporary character of their dwellings.
Captain Younghusband, speaking to Mr. Campbell's paper, described the trip which he, Mr. James, and Mr. Fulford made to the mountain from the northern or Manchurian side in the summer of 1886. At the foot of the mountain they found some most lovely meadows covered with iris, lilies, and columbine, surpassing even those of Kashmir. "Passing on up through the forest, we came to the summit of the Ch'ang-pai Shan. Before us were two prominent peaks seen from the north side—there are really five all round—and between these the saddle. Arriving there, we expected to see a view on the other side toward Korea; instead of that, however, we saw, straight under our feet, this wonderful lake situated right at the top of the mountain. It was of the most clear deep blue, and surrounded by a magnificent circle of jagged peaks, ascending one of which I got a clear view of all this country, over which Mr. Campbell traveled later on. We saw through the forest the course of this Yalu River and the Tumen River, which both rise on the spurs of this mountain, and out of this lake flowed a small stream which eventually runs into the Sungari, perhaps the most important tributary of the great Amur River, which
