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of the lake. Circling around the temple of the big Buddha we came to the place of ascent and climbed the stone-paved pathway that led to the summit of the hill. Though the path led up through shade-giving trees we were hot and steaming before we emerged gratefully into the cool breezes of the open spaces. The pagoda itself, called, colloquially, the Needle or Needle-Point Pagoda because of the shape of the ruin, dates from the tenth century. It stand on the crest of an arm of a hill to the north of the lake, overlooking the lake and city, quite the most prominent landmark. It is about a hundred feet high and it crowned by a bronze shaft decorated with sundry rings and points. The wooden parts have all gone now, and most of the opening^[[s]] have been sealed, but broken places here and there reveal the fact that it was once possible to climb inside to the last of the pagoda's seven stories. Brick patterns and tile trimmings and terra-cotta frames of what are now false but may once have been true windows, are noticeable. By[[strikethrough]]t[[/strikethrough]] the use of my sighting compass I ascertained that this pagoda and the now demolished Thunder Peak Pagoda once marked the north and south poles, as it were, of West Lake. Next to the pagoda is the white foreign house of Dr. Main, which we admitted, has an enviable location in spite of ^[[its]] graceless appearance. We passed it quickly and went along the narrow path to the [[insertion]] ^ real [[/insertion]] summit of this hill, where huge rocks are piled like hand-placed pebbles on a mound. I scrambled around trying to get a picture of the pagoda without the house, and then we sat in the cool of a cave for a while before beginning our descent. From the top of this hill, where there is a stage with a stone balustrade, one has a superb view of the lake, the city, the Ch'ien T'ang river, the sea, [[insertion]] ^ and [[/insertion]] the surrounding countryside of Chekiang.

We were heading in a general westerly direction and now, instead of returning to the road, we let ourselves down the side of the hill to the west by means of steep narrow paths through the brush, until we came to the road ascending to the Taoist monastery of Ko Ling. First there was a stone pavilion where water seemed to spring from the rocky hill, then a tree-bordered trail, and finall^[[-]]y ^[[/]]the outer courts of the temple itself. This outer court seemed to have been both cut out of the stone and builded up in a kind of valley, and it was a remarkable example of artificially natural assistance to nature. The rock