owing to the thick underwood, and approaching twilight, could not overtake the fugitives. We all assembled round the deserted camp fire, on which stood an iron bowl containing food, with a bag of provisions lying near it. Judging from the small size of the cooking vessel that the party could not be numerous, and that after all they might not be robbers, our companions began holloaing in Mongolian, Tangutan, and Chinese to invite the strangers to return. The only response vouchsafed was a shot, fired from a clump of bushes on the brow of the hill, which whistled close by us. In return we fired about fifteen times in the direction of the smoke, the lamas joining in, and Randzemba of course taking a leading part. For a long while afterwards he could talk of nothing else but the breechloaders, and on returning to camp in answer to all questions put to him by his companions, he would exclaim, 'Ay lama, lama, lama!' vehemently shaking his head and wringing his hands to express his unutterable astonishment.
We determined to mount guard that night, and lay down to rest with our guns under our heads as usual. Hardly had I fallen asleep when I was roused by the report of a shot close to our tent, followed by a loud cry. Seizing our guns and revolvers, we ran to the door, and found that the sentry had fired into the air. 'Why did you do that?' I asked him. 'To let them know we are watching,' was the answer. The Chinese soldiers frequently did this, at least the militia assembled for
