our staggering figures
crawled cautiously into camp, and we could not even then discern in the
dim light whether these were our messengers or not.

"_Kuan hai?_" ("Who is there?") I shouted.

"Dola!" replied a voice, and instantly we gave them a joyful and hearty
greeting. But our happiness was not to last long. The men did not
respond. They seemed quite exhausted, and apparently terrified. I asked
them to explain the cause of their distress, but, sobbing and embracing
my feet, they showed great disinclination to tell me. Grave, indeed, was
the news they brought, presaging much trouble in store.

"Your days are numbered, sahib," at last cried Dola. "It is impossible
for you to get out of this country alive ... they will kill you, and the
Jong Pen of Taklakot says that he must have your head at all costs."

"Do not look so far ahead, Dola," I replied, trying to calm him, "but
tell me first how you reached Taklakot."

"Oh, sahib, we followed your plan. We suffered much on the road, as the
marches were long and severe, and we had very little food. We walked day
and night for two days, keeping away from the track, and hiding whenever
we saw any one. When we got near the Tibetan fort, we saw at the foot of
the hill a few tents of the Tinker and Chongur Shokas from Nepal. None of
the Biassi or Chaudassi Shokas had been allowed to enter Tibet owing to
the Jong Pen's anger with them regarding his claims for land revenue.
There was a guard day and night at the river, and a sharp look-out was
kept to stop and arrest anybody entering the country. Two fakirs, who
were on a pilgrimage to the sacred Mansarowar, unaware of the danger, had
crossed over the Lippu Pass, and had proceeded down to Taklakot, where
they were immediately seized and accused of being you, sahib, in
disguise. As the Tibetans were not quite certain as to which of the two
was the real sahib, they severely punished both, beating them almost to
death. What became of them afterwards we were unable to learn. Anyhow,
the Tibetans subsequently found out that you had entered Tibet by another
pass, and soldiers have been sent in every direction to look for you.

"No sooner did we appear at Taklakot," sobbed Dola, "than we were pounced
upon, knocked about, and arrested. They cross-examined us closely. We
professed to be Johari traders, who had run short of food, and had made
for Taklakot to buy provisions. They beat us and treated us badly, until
your friend Zeniram,