It was now 3 p.m., and we were still six miles from Kasanpo. Pursuing our way by the river-side, we arrived at that village by five o'clock, and proceeded to the house of one Ah-toan, an old man with whom the doctor was acquainted. Ah-toan was not at home, but he soon appeared, driving his cattle before him into the pen. He, too, was very pleased to see us, and quickly made an apartment ready, in which we deposited our things. On the verandah behind his dwelling a narrow space had been screened off for bathing, and of this convenience we at once took advantage. Our arrival was the signal for the villagers to crowd in and have a look at us, but I could not make out why the male portion of the community appeared to treat our visit as a highly humorous incident, and why they had lost the erect and dignified bearing peculiar to their race. One old savage more than six feet high, got hold of my pith hat, turned it round, and finally burst into a broad grin. I noticed, too, that he had abandoned all control over his facial muscles, and though he evidently meant to be civil, that he could not bring back the normal expression of sober gravity to his countenance ; his features, in spite of him, would dissolve into a grin. At last I smelt sam-shu, and it transpired that the villagers had been thatching a neighbour's house, and, as is customary, had been entertained at a wine-feast. The Pepohoans distil a very strong spirit from the sweet potato, which they cultivate as a staple food like rice.
I will now endeavour to describe our bedroom. The Pepohoan huts are infested with rats, and the chamber we occupied did not escape their forays. This apartment measured about eight feet each way, one half of which area was taken up by a platform of bamboo raised about eighteen inches above the hard clay floor. This platform formed our bed, and the only other
