On awaking from a refreshing rest we found our men still busily engaged in mixing up the tea and tsampa, whilst around and about lay Mongols sleeping soundly; everywhere, too, there lay scattered all our belongings, an easy prey to anybody who might feel inclined to take them. From the moment we fell in with these trustful, hospitable nomads, we instinctively felt that our guns, our ammunition, in fact, all we possessed, were just as safe amongst them from robbery as we had found them to be when travelling with the Tibetan merchants. As for our three noble mules, they were now enjoying what must have been to them a paradise. Everywhere grew rich grass and fruit bushes, intersected by small streams, and there they wandered knee-deep, grazing to their heart's content, doubtless entirely forgetful of all the trying times they had carried us through. It was no small pleasure to ourselves either, to see them thus provided for, and we agreed never to place another load on their backs as long as they remained in our care, but to hire, by hook or crook, ponies from the Mongols, whilst they should march the last 300 miles to the Chinese border with ease and comfort.

As soon as all were awake, and whilst a breakfast of more mutton and tea was being discussed, it was arranged that we should move on a few miles, to a spot where we could better bargain for supplies of food and for ponies to take us to the Chinese border.

The chief of the Mongols amongst whom we were living was a man called Lobsan, and it was close to his home in the bush that we had taken our things. It was soon common news throughout the few miles of bush wherein these nomads were residing that two strangers had arrived who were anxious to purchase food. Lobsan was a man well known throughout the district, and being a man of superior energy and intellect, he carried no small weight amongst his neighbours; besides, he had travelled more than the majority of them—he had made the journey three times to China, and in addition to that he had resided some months in the capital, Lhassa, and had become initiated in the studies of the Buddhist religion; he was, in consequence, acquainted with the different routes to Lhassa. He explained to us how we had traversed the Namoran route instead of the Burhan Bota, which was the longer of the two; he pointed out, too, the exact position of the town of Barong Tsaidam, agreeing admirably with our own calculations; above all, he strengthened and confirmed our information with regard to our discovery of the source of the Chu Ma river, an upper tributary of the Yang-tse.

We made our encampment under the shade of a large fruit tree, where Lobsan's stout ponies had brought our goods, and as we sat there with Lobsan by our side, men and women flocked in from all quarters to try their fortune in this novel market. It was soon current that our ready rupees were the exchange; rupees they preferred to most other things we could suggest, such as knives, watches or saffron. The only article they really asked for in return was "sin," or needles, of which we hadn't a single one. Some of them brought tsampa, or tulshi (flour), or mar (butter), or chura (cheese), each bringing from a few pounds down to half a pound of any article, and, as we had to lay in at least a fortnight's supply, a great deal of bargaining had to be negotiated. All this was managed through Lobsan, who probably received some slight remuneration from each of the successful bargains. As a rule, we paid a rupee for four pounds of tsampa, or flour, and the same price for a pound of butter, while two sheep cost us three and a half and four and a half rupees respectively.

MALCOLM ENGAGES ATTENTION OF MONGOLS WITH "CADBURY": THEY THINK IT IS SNUFF.

As each Mongol turned up he would say what the price of his bag of flour or skin of butter was, and of course more than what was right. Many others would be standing around, watching with interest the new scene that presented itself, and see us demur with surprise at the high price that was asked; yet, although the price was never mentioned, all knew well what it was. The bargaining was carried out under cover of the sleeve of their sheepskin cloaks. Lobsan, after interviewing the vendor in this manner, would take hold of my hand, concealed inside his own sleeve, and seize four of my fingers, signifying that four rupees was the price of the goods; whereupon, looking him in the face, I would seize three of his fingers, or three and a half to represent three and a half rupees, as the case might be, as my price, and this information would at once be transmitted to all onlookers in the same fashion. Although every bargain was carried out in secrecy, without speaking a word, still all knew just as well what was taking place as if the tongue, instead of hidden fingers, had been the medium adopted.

Our attempts at purchasing some of their ponies were unsuccessful, for with our finances in such a crippled state, we could not, had we been willing, have paid the price they demanded, namely, 50 to 120 rupees for an altogether worn-out and aged baggage pony.

It took very little to amuse thoroughly these good-natured, unsophisticated nomads; even our sponge, which we at length had leisure and opportunity to make use of, attracted their curiosity. Still even more astonishing to them was a half-filled tin of Cadbury's cocoa, which they would insist could be nothing else than snuff. As Malcolm thus engaged their attention, I took a snap-shot of the little group with my kodak. As soon as they discovered this in my hands all was wonderment again, yet so trustful and unsuspicious were these people that they were not at all averse to being photographed, with the exception of one lady mounted on horseback; yet even she unwittingly fell a victim, as may be seen on the following page.