on the Tibetan school of Buḍḍhism on the part of the Lama, and on Japanese and Chinese schools on mine.
On the 7th of July I made a parting call on the holy dweller of the white cliff, when the good man presented me with considerable quantities of baked flour, butter, and raisins, saying that without a full and good supply of them I might die on the journey. This was all very nice, but it increased my load by twenty pounds, an addition which always counts a great deal to a solitary peddler, going a long distance over difficult roads, as I was to do. Back in the grey cave, I once more set myself to repairing my boots, but the work was new to me, and I was more successful in sticking the needle into my finger than in progressing with the job. The upshot was that the occupant of the cave, taking pity on me, kindly did the greater part of the work for me. Early on the 8th I bade good-bye to the kind-hearted disciple of Gelong Rinpoche, and relaunched myself on my journey, with eighty-five solid pounds on my back, which in no time began to ache under the weight.
