have crossed that river so as to reach the valley of the Kunges by a neighbouring pass. But we were compelled to cross the mountain further north and find out a ferry higher up the river. After having climbed up and then followed the undulations of the uncultivated hills, we descried the valley, a sort of terrace at the foot of the mountains, a greyish steppe dotted over with a few tents and nomad flocks. It is commanded to the east by a chain of mountains more elevated than that to the north, and the slopes of which seem to us quite bare, while the summits are not white with snow.
The banks of the river present a somewhat attractive appearance, the stream flowing along like a ribbon amid verdure formed by poplars, willows, tamarisks which still bear a few flowers, liquorice-plants, barberries, and wild raspberries. There is abundance of water, and the grass is thick wherever the river reaches, while pheasants swarm in the undergrowth.
Passing a deserted village, we cross the small stream of Nilka and leave the marshy valley for the high plateau which overhangs it. In the midst of tall grass we come here and there upon cleared plots where the Mongols have their felt tents, which are smaller than those of the Kirghis, lower and more pointed at the summit. These Mongols are busy threshing the wheat in the open air, in the same way as other primitive peoples who do not employ any machine. A pole is put into the ground in the centre of the wheat, which is laid out upon the ground, and oxen are tied to this pole and made to tramp round in a line, children driving them along with a stick. These children are stark naked, and very weakly in appearance. Their stomachs are protuberant, and their skin, exposed constantly to the sun, is nearly black, while it seems to be merely thrown loosely over their frame, and to be about to come off whenever they raise their arms and cause their angular shoulder-blades to protrude.
September 16.—This evening we reach the banks of the
