go with him to his house and read them over for the benefit of himself and his family. The invitation was as unexpected as it was opportune, and I accepted it. That was in October, 1899, as I have just said, and if my acceptance of Naring's invitation had no definite motive at the time, it stood me in good stead afterwards. In the meantime, however, Naring had gone to India on business, and it was not till March, 1900, that I had tidings of his return to Malba. On the 10th of that month I bade goodbye to Tsarang and its simple inhabitants.
My stay in Tsarang was not entirely devoid of results; for while there I succeeded in persuading about fifteen persons to give up the use of intoxicants, and some thirty others to abandon the habit of chewing tobacco. These were all persons who had at one time or another received medical treatment from me, and whom I persuaded to give pledges of abstinence as the price they were to pay for my medicine.
Nearly a year's stay in Tsarang had made me acquainted practically with its entire population, and, on my departure, all these people favored me with farewell presents of buckwheat flour, bread, maru, butter, fried peaches—all in various quantities—while some gave me kata and silver coins. At three in the afternoon of that 10th of March I left my residence on horse-back, with my volumes of Buddhist Texts and other baggage loaded on two pack-ponies. The books I have just referred to were given to me by one Nyendak, Lama-Superior of the principal Buddhist temple of Tsarang, in exchange for my white horse, which had proved such a faithful animal on my journey from Nepāl, and to which the priest had taken a great fancy. The books were chiefly in manuscript, penned by a Sakya Paṇdiṭ, and altogether were worth at least 600 rupees.
On reaching the outskirts of the village, I found about one hundred persons waiting for me, and to each of these
