y often been under
mesmeric influence), remained with his eyes fixed upon mine as if in a
trance for certainly over two minutes.

There was a wonderful and sudden change in the man, and his voice,
arrogant and angry a few moments before, was now soft and apparently
kindly. The Lamas around him were evidently concerned at seeing their
lord and master transformed from a foaming fury to the quietest of lambs.
They seized me and brought me out of his sight to the spot where Chanden
Sing was being chastised. Here again I could not be compelled to kneel,
so at last I was allowed to squat down before the Pombo's officers.

CHAPTER LXXVII

My note-books and maps--What the Lamas wanted me to say--My
refusal--Anger and threats--Ando, the traitor--Chanden Sing's
heroism--A scene of cruelty--Rain.

THE two Lamas, leaving Chanden Sing, produced my note-books and maps, and
proceeded to interrogate me closely, saying that, if I spoke the truth, I
should be spared, otherwise I should be flogged and then beheaded.

[Illustration: A SOLDIER]

I answered that I would speak the truth, whether they punished me or not.

One of the Lamas, a great big brute, who was dressed up in a gaudy red
silk coat, with gold embroidery at the collar, and who had taken part in
the flogging of Chanden Sing, told me I must say "that my servant had
shown me the road across Tibet, and that he had done the maps and
sketches." If I would say this, they were willing to release me and have
me conveyed back to the frontier, promising to do me no further harm.
They would cut my servant's head off, that was all, but no personal
injury should be inflicted on me.

I explained clearly to the Lamas that I alone was responsible for the
maps and sketches, and for finding my way so far inland. I repeated
several times, slowly and distinctly, that my servant was innocent, and
that therefore there was no reason to punish him. He had only obeyed my
orders in following me to Tibet, and I alone, not my two servants, was to
be punished if anybody was punishable.

The Lamas were angry at this, and one of them struck me violently on the
head with the butt-end of his riding-crop. I pretended not to notice it,
though it made my scalp ache and smart.

[Illustration: SOLDIER WITH PIGTAIL WOUND ROUND HIS HEAD]

"Then we shall beat you and your man until you say what we want," the
Lama exclaimed angrily.

"You can beat us if you like," I replied with a