rest, and that we wished to stop at a more convenient spot. Abdullah made us laugh by repeating the illustrations he had used when speaking to these savages, as, when he handed them sugar and bade them remark its whiteness, "Such is the whiteness of our intentions," or, when they drank their tea, "You like it, though, before you drank it, you did not like it. So will it be with us: when you have made our acquaintance you will like us as much as you do the tea."
We comment on the events of the day, seated round our pot, in which the rancid butter they have given us is melting and emitting a somewhat disagreeable odour. We come to the conclusion that the Thibetans do not know what to decide, and that their orders with regard to us are vague. It is probable that we might pursue our journey without their daring to stop us; but, unfortunately, we have no means of going on, for our beasts are dying. We determine, however, to move on the morrow as far as possible, convinced that the stage will be an exceedingly short one.
February 16.—The envoys return to the charge, and try to convince us that we could not do better than stay where we are. They again ask for our papers, and this time learn our nationality. We send them back without any answer, merely urging them to find a better interpreter of Mongolian, for we cannot understand one another.
We set out on our journey in our best battle-array, with rifles on our shoulders, for the plain swarms with horsemen. It seems as though they had mustered all their warriors—doubtless to frighten us. We enter the pass which rises gently over the ridges, at the bottom of which winds a frozen river. Nothing happens as we cross it, and on the other side we find waiting the envoys whom we had seen the night before. They beg us to remain so as to talk amicably with the Amban, who is on his way from Lhassa, for they have already made preparations to receive him at the bottom of the pass. On the left bank of the frozen
