The Manjour villages are noticeable for the gardens in and around them.  Each house that I saw had a vegetable garden that appeared well cultivated.  In the corner of nearly every garden I observed a small building like a sentry box.  In some doubt as to its use, I asked information of my Russian friends, and learned it was a temple where the family idols are kept and the owners go to offer their prayers.

[Illustration:  A PRIVATE TEMPLE.]

Near each village was a grove which enclosed a public temple on the plan of a church in civilized countries.  The temple was generally a square house, built with more care and neatness than the private dwellings.  On entering, one found himself in a kind of ante-room, separated from the main apartment by a pink curtain.  This curtain has religious inscriptions in Chinese and Manjour.  In the inner apartment there are pictures of Chinese deities, with a few hideous idols carved in wood.  A table in front of the pictures receives the offerings of worshippers.

The Manjours appear very fond of surrounding their temples with trees, and this is particularly noticeable on account of the scarcity of wood in this region.  Timber comes from points higher up the Amoor, where it is cut and rafted down.  Small trees and bushes are used as fuel and always with the strictest economy.  The grove around the temple is held sacred, as among the Druids in England, and I presume a native would suffer long from cold before cutting a consecrated tree.

Along the river near the first village several boats were moored or drawn on the bank out of reach of the water.  A few men and women stood looking at us, and some of them shouted ‘mendow’ when we were directly opposite their position.  Of course we returned their salutation.

Unlike the aboriginals lower down the river, the Manjours till the soil and make it their chief dependence.  I saw many fields where the grain was uncut, and others where it had been reaped and stacked.  The stacks were so numerous in proportion to the population that there must be a large surplus each year.  Evidently there is no part of the Amoor valley more fertile than this.  Horses and cattle were grazing in the meadows and looked up as we steamed along.  We passed a dozen horses drinking from the river, and set them scampering with our whistle.

The horse is used here for carrying light loads, but with heavy burdens the ox finds preference.  Along the Chinese shore I frequently saw clumsy carts moving at a snail-like pace between the villages.  Each cart had its wheels fixed on an axle that generally turned with them.  Frequently there was a lack of grease, and the screeching of the vehicle was rather unpleasant to tender nerves.

Near the village we met a Manjour boat, evidently the property of a merchant.  The difference between going with and against the current was apparent by comparing the progress of this boat with the one I saw in the Buryea mountains.  One struggled laboriously against the stream, but the other had nothing to do beyond keeping where the water ran swiftest.  This one carried a small flag, and was deeply laden with merchandise.  The crew was dozing and the man at the helm did not appear more than half awake.