AS is the case with all Chinese mountain cities, the capital of Yunnan enjoys a most picturesque situation. Emerging from the plain it stands on a limestone ridge, along which its north wall runs; the southern wall encloses much flat land, including a considerable extent of paddy-fields and lotus ponds, across which run stone causeways leading to temples and tea-houses; a bit of Japan with Chinese dirt and decay thrown in. The view over the city and the distant lake and the amphitheatre of surrounding mountains is very beautiful, as one takes a seat on one of the rugged limestone rocks, that cover the face of the slope of the ridge inside the north wall. Like Peking and Chẻngtu, the city is full of fine trees, amidst which glitter the variegated tiled roofs of the many temples and guildhalls. The eye reaches across the city, with its very elegant twin pagodas marking the spot where the Burmese tribute bearers used to assemble—the stable for their elephants was near the British Consulate, where a new school was being built—and across the wide lake to the mountains beyond: these distant mountains form the water-parting between the valley of the Yangtse, to which the drainage of the Yunnan Lake basin belongs, and the drainage of the lakes in the east of the province which goes to feed the West River of Canton.