After thanking the two merchants for their hospitality, we left the tent to go to the shelter where it had been arranged we were to spend the night. We found ourselves stumbling over picketing ropes and threading our way amidst hosts of yak, till we drew up before a huge pile of goods with a large awning stretched over them. We sat down in the darkness by this mass of merchandise. Here we found no shelter from the wind, and to have remained there for any length of time would have been impossible; such a bitterly cold wind we had never experienced before—besides, we did not feel we were being treated with the little respect we were entitled to. In our present condition we could certainly not expect much, but here were we, two Englishmen, chucked along with the baggage under an awning, absolutely no shelter on a night like this, while the two Tibetan merchants were sleeping peacefully in warmth and comfort. We could withstand it no longer, and rose to find our way back to the merchants' tent. They had both gone to bed, but we informed them that we, too, had come to sleep inside the tent, and at once began to make ourselves at home. The merchants, though surprised at our intrusion, still were not in a frame of mind to object to our company. Either they had some pity for us on this bitter night, or more probably, owing to the late hour we had kept them up eating and talking, they were too tired to resort to argument or resistance. A numnah was placed on the ground between the two beds for us to lie upon. As soon as various coverings had been spread over us, we were soon warm again and both sound asleep.

Before daybreak I was aroused by some energetic Tibetan, gifted with a voice like a bull, bellowing forth "Chou-chou, chou-chou, chou-chou-ou-ou-ou!" which, I am told, means, "Up and get ready!" I think I must have dozed again after this, for I next remembered finding myself in the open on the ground. It was just getting light, and masses of laden yak were moving past us. We were both struck with astonishment; nobody seemed to take any notice of us. There we lay; there was no noise—everybody seemed as though he was going to do his own work and look to nothing else. Batch after batch quietly disappeared—merchants, tents, yak, ponies, men, dogs, and all. All seemed to know what was happening but ourselves; we could not grasp the situation, but cold made us rise and try to warm ourselves.

THE KUSHOK'S TAME YAK.

In spite of the wonderful disappearance of this wonderful camp, we were glad to find that the merchant had kept his word, for we found two very fat-looking ponies had been left behind for us in charge of his servant Nimbri, who was provided also with the large red bag of tsampa and the other ingredients for mixing it up with. We weren't long in having the kettle boiling, and Malcolm and I sat down along with Nimbri to breakfast.

Esau had gone back to hasten on the mules for fear they should not arrive before noon. Nimbri was fully aware of the position he held as master of the ceremonies, and for some time was stingy with his doling out of the food; but a present of a knife and a rupee, which at first he refused, made him more liberal, and although all our conversation was carried on by signs, we all laughed heartily and enjoyed the fun. After our remarkable breakfast Nimbri gave us two large coats, and wrapping ourselves in these, we separated and went to sleep in some sunny nook.

I was aroused by Malcolm some time afterwards to come and have some more breakfast, when Nimbri made signs to us that it was about noon, and that he could wait no longer. Just at that moment the mules came into sight round the corner, the baggage was quickly transferred to the ponies, and our men had soon finished the tea and tsampa, which they so well deserved. We now looked forward to reaching the merchants' camp before darkness and learning something about the management of it, its size and composition. Malcolm and I, who were in front, were soon surrounded by a number of Tibetans, who made friendly jokes amongst themselves and were evidently amused at our appearance.

As soon as our baggage arrived, we pitched our little tent and attempted to return the hospitality of the merchants by inviting them to tea, which was all we could give them. We were anxious, too, to make a bargain with them for hiring a yak or pony for our baggage. Just before darkness the two merchants came, for our tent was not more than a hundred yards off from their own. The hospitality and comfort of our tent was but a poor apology for that of their own, as we all four of us sat crowded up in an uncomfortable heat. Esau was close at hand as interpreter, but we failed to come to any agreement about hiring animals for the morrow. We were able, however, to purchase some supplies, flour at eight annas, and afterwards one rupee a pound, and ghi and salt at correspondingly high rates.

The following morning the whole merchants' camp had moved off before we had begun to load up. We had no trouble in finding their tracks, and after a pleasant march we noticed one of the mountain sides thickly dotted with the merchants' yak out grazing, so we knew the tents would be close at hand; everything was in full swing as if the camp had been there for months. As we approached we were told by Nimbri to pitch our tent near the head merchant's, into whose tent we were soon invited to drink tea.