CHAPTER IV.
THE CITY OF CHUNGKING--THE CHINESE CUSTOMS--THE FAMOUS MONSIEUR HAAS, AND A FEW WORDS ON THE OPIUM FALLACY.
After passing through the gorge known as Tung-lo-hsia ten miles from Chungking, the laoban tried to attract my attention, calling me from my crib and pointing with his chin up the river repeating "Haikwan one piecee," which I interpreted to mean that there was an outpost of the customs here in charge of one white man; and this proved to be the case.
The customs kuatze or houseboat was moored to the left bank; the Imperial Customs flag floated gaily over an animated collection of native craft.

We drew alongside the junk and an Englishman appeared at the window.
"Where from ?" he asked, laconically.
"Australia." "The devil, so am I.What part ?" "Victoria." "So am I.Town ?" "Last from Ballarat." "My native town, by Jove! Jump up." I gave him my card.

He looked at it and said, "When I was last in Victoria I used to follow with much interest a curious walk across Australia, from the Gulf of Carpentaria to Melbourne done by a namesake.
Any relation?
The same man! I'm delighted to see you." Here then at the most inland of the customs stations in China, 1500 miles from the sea, I met my fellow countryman who was born near my home and whose father was a well-known Mayor of Ballarat City.
Like myself he had formerly been a student of Melbourne University, but I was many years his senior.

What was his experience of the University I forgot to inquire, but mine I remember vividly enough; for it was not happy.

In the examination for the Second-year Medicine, hoping the more to impress the Professors, I entered my name for honours--and they rejected me in the preliminary pass.