which has often proved successful—crouching down in the centre of the ground and firing a barrel in the air. Result-consternation among the birds, which take wing in all directions. Some are sure to pass within range; every shot that is fired startles them afresh, and before they realise where the danger is some very good sport is the result. On this occasion I bagged four mallards, a falcate and a common teal, besides a goosander shot in mistake for a duck. The same lot of swampy ground yielded a hare, not the ordinary little Chinese hare, Lepus sinensis, but Swinhoes' hare, Lepus swinhoei, which is the common species on the north bank of the river as the other is on the south. Peewits were plentiful and a couple were added to the bag, which after being duly hung, well cooked and served on toast are hard to beat for breakfast. Alternate snow and rain kept us in the boat the following morning, and a walk in the afternoon added little to our score; so before dark we travelled a few miles up river.

A bright sunny day was an agreeable change and we landed on the south bank next morning with hope once more restored, and though game was not plentiful it proved to be an interesting day. Just behind the sea-wall which lines the bank all along this part of the river lies a reedy district cut up by ponds and paddy-fields. Beyond this is a highly cultivated country which after an hour's exploration proved destitute of either game or interest, so we returned to the reeds. There were a good many duck here, but as they rose from ponds among reeds, which are 10 to 15 feet high, the ducks were difficult to shoot; we killed in all two mallard, seven teal, a snipe and three pheasants. I also shot a water-rail (Rallus indicus) very similar to our English bird, and a few other specimens. There were numbers of herons, egrets and bitterns about, and buzzards were plentiful, as they are on all the low lands of the Yangtze. In the afternoon we sailed up with a fair breeze close to Single Tree Hill, anchoring for the night under the south bank. On the way we saw an extraordinary number of goosanders, busy fishing under the banks. In some of the little bays as many as a hundred would be gathered together, not in one flock, but in pairs or parties of half-a-dozen. As the boat approached they would scuttle across the bows and, skimming low over the water, pitch again in mid-stream; the females were always the first to rise. Sometimes goosanders are very aggravating; we were constantly shooting them as duck, and frequently mistaking the smews for teal. Of course when one gets a full view it is easy to distinguish them, but there is not always time to examine or deliberate. This fine day proved to be a delusion, for next morning we woke only to find it snowing hard, and this afterwards turning to sleet, making shooting hopeless, we sailed away with a fair wind to Nanking, where my companion, whose time was nearly up and who despaired of further sport, caught the steamer for Shanghai and left me to do the distance to Wuhu alone.

It was an interesting journey, but a detailed account would be tedious. Sport became a secondary object, and most of the time was devoted to studying the bird-life of the river. The weather improved; time was no object, so I could travel leisurely and land wherever the country looked inviting. Taken in this way the whole stretch of the river from Chinkiang to Wuhu and further up again to Kiukiang is a paradise for a sportsman who is not merely anxious to kill game. It is seldom that one lands for an hour or two, whether on the cultivated plains, marshes, reed-covered islands, grassy scrub-covered hills, or on bare, desolate-looking wastes without meeting with something in the shape of game. One may seldom make a big bag but something is sure to turn up. At one place it is a snipey bit of swamp, at another lagoons black with duck and teal, now a gaggle of geese feeding on the stubbles claim attention, and again a flock of handsome bustards with plumage resembling the dry, yellow, grassy plains which they frequent tempts one to try a stalk. Pheasants are scattered about almost everywhere

and are probably great wanderers, and an occasional deer or hare adds variety to the shooting. The reed-beds are a grand hunting ground for the ornithologist when the reeds have been partially cleared as is the case at this time of year. The lagoons with which they are intersected swarm with wild-fowl, grebes and gulls; herons, egrets, rails, curlew, plovers and sandpipers haunt the marshy parts, and an occasional solitary black stork may be seen fishing in a shallow pool. Overhead, birds of prey of all kinds may be seen, from the gigantic white-tailed eagle to the little merlin. Common and rough-legged buzzards are among the most conspicuous, but the graceful harriers are even more numerous. Among the reeds themselves live many small birds which are far more valuable to the collector; buntings of several species, a very small mouse-like penduline tit (Egethalus consobrinus), so small and so unobtrusive that it is a most difficult bird to obtain; and a very curious bird belonging to the family of paradox-birds or parrotbilled tits. This particular species (Paradoxomis hendei) is apparently only found among the reed-beds of the Yangtze, and I remember my delight at first meeting with it. It is found in flocks and is generally very inconspicuous and given to skulking; but its plaintive whistle may be constantly heard, and by following the sound and waiting patiently it is possible to secure quite a number out of one flock. The body of the bird is about the size of a sparrow's, the bill is parrot-shaped and the tail is long and graduated, the colour a mixture of fawn, buff, black and white.

But enough has been said to suggest at least the attractions of the district. To those visiting it by house-boat I would offer the advice-land wherever you can. The nature of the country is undergoing perpetual change; the draining of lakes as the river falls, the drying up of marshes, the cutting of reeds and brushwood all involve changes in the character of the sport to be expected. First-rate pheasant shooting may be had at a certain place; a month later not a bird is to be found there; the remaining reeds which made such good cover on the first visit have been cut and the birds have retired several miles back to the hills. In the same way a well known wild-fowl swamp may be found dry and deserted.

In the words of the poet, "you never know your luck," and this element of chance is perhaps among the charms of all sport and of sport in the Yangtze valley in particular.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A TRIP TO THE HILLS (FENG-WAN-SHAN).

BY MR. AND MRS. C. DEIGHTON-BRAYSHER.

UR place is among the ferns and flowers, and as we have been asked to note a trip to the hills we have pleasure in doing so, though it is by no means an easy undertaking owing to the route being so constantly traversed and the rendezvous so very well known. Still many things may strike one that would be overlooked by another, and should these jottings in any measure assist those in search of ferns or serve in some slight way to recall happy days passed in this district they will have fulfilled their purpose.

In a comfortable house-boat, after being towed up the Whangpoo past the native anchorage by the Feitoo, we slowly yuloh our way with the last of the flood, striking off at the creek at right angles to the river immediately above the Arsenal. To the left peach orchards clothed in their dark green foliage, with here and there a gleam of ruddy fruit, the last of the season, form a marked contrast to their fascinating charm and beauty in the spring, attracting numbers, native and foreign, to be witnesses of their blushing loveliness.

Wild-flowers of many varieties clothe the banks of the circuitous creek sufficient in number and variety to claim the notice of the botanist. Surely one recognises sweet old friends in the melilot with its pale golden blossoms; the Persicaria swaying its red-stalked and rosy-headed spikes; the Michaelmas daisy with its pretty mauve petals; the yellow hawkweed and fleabane; the brookline looking up from the stream with its bright blue eyes and many others, not forgetting the Althaa frutex of nobler proportions,—all bringing back recollections of Home. One ceases to wonder at the quantity of tuberoses carried about the streets of Shanghai for sale, for here are plateau on plateau of these sweet flowers, needing apparently but a modicum of care to perfect their cultivation. Tufts of reeds and water-grasses swayed by the strong tide made mimic whirlpools, and the rippling of the water was answered by the note of the frequent reed-warbler. A few purple and bronze-coloured dragon-flies darted hither and thither, and a hungry butcher-bird, intent on prey, anon swooped down on a noisy cicada-striking it but missing its hold: the poor insect falling into the stream, struggling and beating the water with its wings in its vain efforts to rise, its whirring becoming fainter and fainter as it was carried away by the flowing current. After proceeding up the Sicawei Creek about a mile we were obliged to anchor for the night on account of the ebb having made. At midnight we were again moving. In the morning it was delightful to notice the clear green water of the creek as compared with that of the muddy Whangpoo.

We passed under picturesque bridges and by peaceful hamlets; rafts on the one side, and women at the village steps washing their rice. Boats laden with gourds and vegetables; villagers bartering with the fishermen for their most recent catch; splendid ducks diving and paddling in the clear stream.

It may, perchance, be that in later years some of us will recall these scenes with pleasure “Hæc olim meminisse juvabit." Pursuing our way we come to a broken bridge, about three miles from the hills, which we hastily sketch-hastily because the lowdah summarily went about ship-the debris of broken stones forming a bar to further progress by the intended route. Soon after our arrival at the foot of the hills, richly clothed with vegetation, we commenced our search for ferns.

A word or two here may be of interest to those unacquainted with this locality and its group of eight hills-doubtless in years far back islands in the sea. The trees and vegetation on their slopes afford a fresh and grateful change after the dull monotony of the level country round Shanghai.

While wending one's way through the creeks, frequently over-arched with trees-soft shadows playing on the placid stream-one cannot but notice the little silvery fish gleaming as they rise up to catch the insects; and the water-snakes with their glittering beady eyes in heads erect, slowly wriggling their way from one weedy tuft to another.

To many it might be a novel spectacle to watch the fishing with cormorants. These birds not only dive but really fly under water in pursuit of their prey, soon reappearing after a successful quest. In a very short space of time these hungry birds had scoured the whole of that part of the stream. What with such constant diligence on the part of the fishermen with birds, to say nothing of nets, traps and night-lines in the management of which they are adepts one marvels at there being any fish left!

A few words, now we are at Feng-wan-shan, descriptive of the Catholic Mission, situated a little more than half-way up the highest hill, may not be out of place. The ascent is rendered less tiring by a succession of steps at intervals; three steps, an incline, and so on; then four steps and a longer incline, till the Mission court-yard-a terrace proper-is reached. The way to the building is one long serpentine avenue. Some of the trees are very beautiful and thickly leaved. The piercing rays of the August sun were almost excluded by the over-hanging verdant boughs. Beneath, on the left hand, the gully was clothed with bamboos and flowering shrubs, and from amongst these issued a kind-looking, cheerful priest, who greeted us cordially and conducted us to an ante-chapel, with the injunction to rest whilst he ordered refreshments. The water he offered us was deliciously refreshing, soft and cooling although not iced-for of ice there was no need. The good Père showed us over the chapel, but beyond this Madame was not permitted to go, the regulations forbidding it. "Pardon! il est défendu aux dames d'y entrer," ejaculated the priest. We rejoined that we quite understood the restriction. The cool breeze coming through the open window at this altitude was most enjoyable and one had but little inclination to move from the spot. Monsieur followed his guide, who showed him all over the three-storeyed building. The dormitories were beautifully kept: everything faultlessly clean; each room bore its name and number. The spacious library was well-stocked with books; the refectory with its long polished, hard-wood benches-a noble room-gave one some idea of the numbers entertained at certain seasons. The space and coolness of the entire building were delightful, and the different views from the summit were charming enough to amply repay one for the fatigue and trouble of climbing. On a clear day Hangchow Bay on the South can be seen, and, in a northerly direction the hills at Soochow, 50 miles away, stand out in bold relief. Pagodas seem scattered almost broadcast-marking favourite spots, and for the most part their sites appear well chosen. Rice-fields, rich in their bright green crops, bordered

by numerous creeks and waterways, extend as far as the eye can reach. Shanghai some 18 miles distant appearing as a small white spot. A general impression obtains that the way to the larger chapel crowning the westernmost hill is approached by twelve "stages," each stage being marked by a building dedicated to one of the Apostles. This is not quite correct. There are in reality seven lateral zig-zag paths terminated by "stations," the architecture resembling the façade of a miniature temple. In the front of each is set a cast in bronze portraying one of "The Fourteen Agonies." The workmanship of each of these tablets is a study in itself-the tablets alone are well worth the visit. The priest informed us that the bronzes were cast in Paris, and it seemed to us it would be difficult to meet with finer work anywhere. A verger preceded us and showed us over the main chapel. The western sunlight striking the stained-glass windows made lovely mosaics on the well laid parquet. After resting a while on the parapet on the crest of the hill and enjoying the widespread landscape we slowly retraced our steps towards our boat. And now for the principal object of our trip, namely:

THE FERNS.

The first of these to catch our eye is the graceful Lygodium scandens, often attaining to a height of many feet, climbing and encircling any object within its reach. When taking up a root of this pretty cryptogram we dislodged a woodsia, and subsequently discovered two more varieties of this family. The Lastrea abounds here, and we came across the Helypteris, Spinulosa, Montana filis-mas and Rigida. Some of these were remarkably handsome. The common Polypodium, Pteris and Blechnum spicant were to be found at every turn. Although our search for the Botrychium was fruitless we discovered it on a previous occasion growing by itself almost on the summit of the hill. In the month of October it is especially striking when its amber-coloured frond catches the golden sunshine. To those unacquainted with the plant there would be a difficulty in finding it till such time as its tall, fertile frond appears: this is in striking contrast to the dark green, curly leaves below, half concealed by the grass. Further down this the third hill of the first group, we found the adiantum nigrum and many varieties of the Asplenium: A. lanceolatum, A. viride, A. trichomanes, A. hemionitis; and doubtless there were several others we had neither the time nor the good luck to find. A grave was beautified by large tufts of Scolopendrium, and a coarse fern somewhat resembling the common bracken difficult of removal as its roots were so deeply imbedded in bricks and stones. On leaving this spot and descending to the undergrowth the Osmunda regalis abounded, the infant plants of a delicate pale green tint compared with those of maturer growth; in fact, if one did not know they were the same family one might have even mistaken them for another class altogether. So many varieties of Pteris are to be found here as to call for special notice-amongst them P. longifolia, P. collinas and P. serrulatasome attaining the height of 1 foot or more, others only 2 or 3 inches.

I

Our stay was unavoidably limited, but we incline to the belief that any diligent botanist would find his toil rewarded with a "catch" of from 25 to 30 different varieties of lovely ferns, while a book on this subject would be of the greatest interest and certainly of service to those fond of this pleasing study.

We descended the last of the hills well satisfied with the result of our scramble in the treasures we possessed. Retracing our way we arrived at the creek which flows past the Catholic Mission, where we found our tender awaiting us. Pleasant it certainly was to glide along the pellucid stream-the arching boughs of the various trees forming lovely vistas most of the way. Slowly returning we stopped