CHAPTER XXIII.
BHAMO, MANDALAY, RANGOON, AND CALCUTTA.
The finest residence in Bhamo is, of course, the American mission.
America nobly supports her self-sacrificing and devoted sons who go forth to arrest the "awful ruin of souls" among the innumerable millions of Asia, who are "perishing without hope, having sinned without law." The missionary in charge told me that he labours with a "humble heart to bring a knowledge of the Saving Truth to the perishing heathen among the Kachins." His appointment is one which even a worldly-minded man might covet.

I will give an instance of his methods.

This devoted evangelist told me that a poor woman, a Kachin Christian, in whose welfare he felt deep personal interest, was, he greatly feared, dying from blood-poisoning at a small Christian village one hour's ride up the river from Bhamo; and he had little doubt that some surgical interference in her case would save her life.

I at once offered to go and see her.

I had received great kindness from many American missionaries in China, and it would give me great pleasure, I said, if I could be of any service.
The missionary professed to be grateful for my offer, but, instead of arranging to go that afternoon, named seven o'clock the following morning as the hour when he would call for me to take me to the village.
At the time appointed I was ready; I waited, but no missionary came.
There was a slight drizzle, sufficient to prevent his going to the sick woman but not sufficient to deter him from going to market to the Irrawaddy steamer, where I accidentally met him.