ance guard stopped from time to time to examine the
ground; having discovered our footprints only partially washed away by
the rain, they were following them up. Seeing us at last on the top of
the hill, they halted. There was commotion among them, and they held an
excited consultation; some of them unslung their matchlocks, others drew
their swords, while we sat on a rock above and watched them with
undivided attention.

CHAPTER LV

An interview--Peace or war?--Gifts and the scarf of
friendship--The _Kata_--The end of a friendly visit.

AFTER hesitating a little, four officers signalled to us that they wished
to approach.

"You are a great king!" shouted one at the top of his voice, "and we want
to lay these presents at your feet," and he pointed to some small bags
which the other three men were carrying. "_Gelbo! Chakzal! Chakzal!_"
("We salute you, king!")

I felt anything but regal after the wretched night we had spent, but I
wished to treat the natives with due deference and politeness whenever it
was possible.

I said that four men might approach, but the bulk of the party was to
withdraw to a spot about two hundred yards away. This they immediately
did, a matter of some surprise to me after the warlike attitude they had
assumed at first. They laid their matchlocks down in the humblest
fashion, and duly replaced their swords in their sheaths. The four
officers approached, and when quite close to us, threw the bags on the
ground and opened them to show us their contents. There was _tsamba_,
flour, _chura_ (a kind of cheese), _guram_ (sweet paste), butter, and
dried fruit. The officers were most profuse in their humble salutations.
They had removed their caps and thrown them on the ground, and they kept
their tongues sticking out of their mouths until I begged them to draw
them in. They professed to be the subordinates of the Tokchim Tarjum, who
had despatched them to inquire after my health, and who wished me to look
upon him as my best friend. Well aware of the difficulties we must
encounter in travelling through such an inhospitable country, the
Tarjum, they said, wished me to accept the gifts they now laid before me,
and with these they handed me a _Kata_, or "the scarf of love and
friendship," a long piece of thin silklike gauze, the end of which had
been cut into a fringe. In Tibet these _Katas_ accompany every gift, and
no caller ever goes about without one, which instantly on arrival