to eternity.  As the oak dies and leaves its eternal image in the seed which never dies, so these grand river-forced ravines, abused and disabused as may be, go on for ever, despite the scribblers, and one finds the best in his imagination returning by some back-lane to contemplative thought.  But as a casual traveler, may I say that the first experience I had of the gorges made me modest, patient, single-minded, conscious of man’s significant insignificance, conscious of the unspeakable, wondrous grandeur of this unvisited corner of the world—­a spot in which blustering, selfish, self-conceited persons will not fare well?  Humility and patience are the first requisites in traveling on the Upper Yangtze.

Reader, for your sake I refrain from a description.  But may I, for perhaps your sake too, if you would wander hither ere the charm of things as they were in the beginning is still unrobbed and unmolested, give you some few impressions of a little of the life—­grave, gay, but never unhappy—­which I spent with my excellent co-voyager, The Other Man.

It is a part of wisdom, when starting any journey, not to look forward to the end with too much eagerness:  hear my gentle whisper that you may never get there, and if you do, congratulate yourself; interest yourself in the progress of the journey, for the present only is yours.  Each day has its tasks, its rapids, its perils, its glories, its fascinations, its surprises, and—­if you will live as we did, its curry and rice.  Then, if you are traveling with a companion, remember that it is better to yield a little than to quarrel a great deal.  Most disagreeable and undignified is it anywhere to get into the habit of standing up for what people are pleased to call their little rights, but nowhere more so than on the Upper Yangtze houseboat, under the gaze of a Yangtze crew.  Life is really too short for continual bickering, and to my way of thinking it is far quieter, happier, more prudent and productive of more peace, if one could yield a little of those precious little rights than to incessantly squabble to maintain them.  Therefore, from the beginning to the end of the trip, make the best of everything in every way, and I can assure you, if you are not ill-tempered and suffer not from your liver, Nature will open her bosom and lead you by these strange by-ways into her hidden charms and unadorned recesses of sublime beauty, uneclipsed for their kind anywhere in the world.

Think not that the life will be luxurious—­houseboat life on the Upper Yangtze is decidedly not luxurious.  Were it not for the magnificence of the scenery and ever-changing outdoor surroundings, as a matter of fact, the long river journey would probably become unbearably dull.

* * * * *

Our wu-pan was to get through the Gorges in as short a time as was possible, and for that reason we traveled in the discomfort of the smallest boat used to face the rapids.