By this time we all felt hungry, and began to wend our way towards the yamun.  On the outskirts may be seen prisoners in chains, or wearing the cangue, imprisoned in a cage, or else suffering one of the numerous tortures inflicted in this country.  I did not go to see any of these horrors, neither did I visit the execution ground; but some of the party did, and described it as a most horrible sight.  Skulls were lying about in all directions, one of which had been quite recently severed from its trunk, the ground being still moist and red.

Whilst luncheon was being prepared we were taken over many of the rooms and through several of the enclosures within the fortified gate.  The meal was excellently served by Chinese servants in a charmingly picturesque Tartar room, and after it we wandered about the park, looked at the deer, and admired the Nagasaki bantams.  Then it was time to start on a fresh sight-seeing expedition, armed with fresh directions.  We set out first to the Temple of the Sleeping Buddha, where there is a large, fat, reclining figure; then to the Temple of Horrors—­most rightly named, for in a suite of rooms built round three sides of a large yard are represented all the tortures of the Buddhist faith, such as boiling in oil, sawing in pieces, and other horrible devices.  The yard itself is crowded with fortune-tellers, charm-sellers, deputy prayer-sayers, beggars, and all sorts of natural horrors, exhibiting various deformities.  Altogether it is a most unpleasant place, but still it is one of the characteristic sights of Canton.

We saw the hotel to-day for the first time.  It certainly looks very hopeless.  We were anxious to get in there if possible, as we were such a large party, but everybody assured us it was quite out of the question.  One gentleman told me he never could fancy using his portmanteau again after even laying it down on the floor for a few minutes.  The absence of a decent hotel renders Canton an inconvenient place to visit.  The European inhabitants are so very kind, however, that you are sure to find somebody who knows somebody else who will hospitably take you in.

[Illustration:  The French Consulate, Canton.]

From the Temple of the Sleeping Buddha we went up the height to breathe a little fresh air, and to see the five-storied pagoda at the spot where the allied forces had encamped, the Chinese groves in the White Cloud Mountains beyond, and to gain a general view of the densely crowded city beneath.  It is all too flat, however, to be picturesque.  The three yamuns at our feet, with their quaint towers, grand old trees, flags, and the broad Pearl River on the other side of the city, are the only elements of positive beauty in the landscape.