latter's rearing up. The pony was now free again and very
indignant. Rampaging about, he tried to find an exit through a batch of
mules in one direction and a batch of mounted infantry in the other, but
found himself baffled in both. He looked up the rocks and found them
impossible to climb, looked at the river beneath him and seemed to
contemplate taking a header, but thought better of it, and at last stood
sullenly at bay. My syce's next proffer of his own wayside ration
brought the pony to terms. A rope-twitch was round his lip in an
instant, and a moment later he stood bridled and in his right mind.

So on we hastened to Lhassa at last, glad to have secured the pony, but
now somewhat belated. At Trelung bridge, eight miles out of Lhassa, was
a small garrison, guarding the bridge. The officer in command fed us
with a sumptuous tea. Much refreshed, we sped on our way, getting within
sight of camp just as it was turning pitch dark, and having cause to
realise the efficacy of our own camp defences by the way we floundered
among ditches and abattis when barely twenty yards from the camp
perimeter.

There was a 'Tommies' gaff' that night, outside the camp, around a
roughly erected stage lit up with Chinese candles and decked out with
green brushwood that had previously been used to make the jumps at the
last gymkhana. We assembled to hear the familiar types of songs that
form the programme of a soldiers' sing-song--some witty, some rather
vulgar, some modified with topical variations by local poets, and all
full of good cheer.

CHAPTER XXII

THE SIGNING OF THE TREATY

A day or two after--that is to say, on the seventh day of September
1904--the treaty was signed. If our peaceful arrival at Lhassa had been
the anti-climax of the Expedition, this--the signing of the
treaty--though peaceful also, was its true climax. One certainly did
have a feeling that day that one was witness of an event of imperial
importance.

The escort left camp at 1.30 P.M. Over the assembling of the troops
outside camp one of those typical--and to the onlooker highly
entertaining--muddles arose, which are always either the fault of some
one or no one or every one. Eventually we found ourselves, all except a
body of mounted infantry who were still unaccountably missing. Their
place was, however, adequately filled by a party of Kot-duffadars of
mule corps, who, mounted on transport riding ponies, and armed with
swords and staves or wha