“Now it is midnight, Robert; in four hours it will be day.”
“Master, I have never been so starved in my life. If I get back to India alive, I shall never forget this dreadful night on Yeshil-kul and the hungry wolves on the shore, though I live to a hundred.”
“Oh, nonsense. You will think of it with longing, and be glad that you were here.”
“It is all very fine to look back on, but at present I should be delighted to have my warm bed in the tent and a fire.”
“Life in Tibet is too monotonous without adventures; one day’s journey is like another, and we want a little change occasionally to wake us up. But we will take tea and firewood with us next time.”
“Shall you have more of such lake voyages, Master?”
“Certainly, if there is an opportunity; but I fear that the winter cold will soon make them impossible.”
“Will it, then, be still colder than now?”
“Yes, this is nothing to what the cold will be in two months.”
“What time is it, Master?”