ABSTRACT
Most convincing to Chinese faith in traditional ceremonies was the fact that rain, weeks overdue, now fell within twenty-four hours. Making up for lost time, each day strove to outdo the former in illustrating their expressive phrase, "sky emptying buckets." The first of September we moved back from the Hills to the city, hoping to elude the greater mold and moisture of those shaded slopes at the risk of higher temperature. Chungking continued to steam, and the cracks in flagstone streets became fissures through which oozed the dank filth of ages. The Chungkingese philosophically accepted their trying atmosphere, but most foreigners were mentally and physically the worse for wear, excepting those who had been fortunate enough to summer on distant O Mei Hsan, where an altitude of eleven thousand feet added to the attractions of a sacred mountain. https://s3-euw1-ap-pe-df-pch-content-public-p.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/9781315810461/4eab397c-1767-44f7-80e6-ab85f6baf550/content/fig30_B.tif" xmlns:xlink="https://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"/>
