racefully
curved horns, which are known to the natives as arkars. High in the sky
flew the vultures, bearded and unbearded, and amid the clouds of white
vapor we left behind us were many crows and pigeons and turtledoves and
wagtails.

The day passed without adventure. At six o'clock in the evening we
crossed the frontier, after a run of nearly two thousand three hundred
kilometres, accomplished in four days since leaving Uzun Ada. Two
hundred and fifty kilometres beyond we shall be at Kachgar. Although we
are now in Chinese Turkestan, it will not be till we reach that town
that we shall have our first experience of Chinese administration.

Dinner over about nine o'clock, we stretched ourselves on our beds, in
the hope, or rather the conviction, that the night will be as calm as
the preceding one.

It was not to be so.

At first the train was running down the slopes of the Pamir at great
speed. Then it resumed its normal rate along the level.

It was about one in the morning when I was suddenly awakened.

At the same time Major Noltitz and most of our companions jumped up.

There were loud shouts in the rear of the train.

What had happened?

Anxiety seized upon the travelers--that confused, unreasonable anxiety
caused by the slightest incident on a railroad.

"What is the matter? What is the matter?"

These words were uttered in alarm from all sides and in different
languages.

My first thought was that we were attacked. I thought of the famous
Ki-Tsang, the Mongol pirate, whose help I had so imprudently called
upon--for my chronicle.

In a moment the train began to slow, evidently preparing to stop.

Popof came into the van, and I asked him what had happened.

"An accident," he replied.

"Serious?"

"No, a coupling has broken, and the two last vans are left behind."

As soon as the train pulls up, a dozen travelers, of whom I am one, get
out onto the track.

By the light of the lantern it is easy to see that the breakage is not
due to malevolence. But it is none the less true that the two last
vans, the mortuary van and the rear van occupied by the goods guard,
are missing. How far off are they? Nobody knows.

You should have heard the shouts of the Persian guards engaged in
escorting the remains of Yen Lou, for which they were responsible! The
travelers in their van, like themselves, had not noticed when the
coupling broke. It might be an hour, two hours, since the accident.

What ought to