, worn out and in great pain, was sitting close by me,
looking vaguely at the lake, had an extraordinary vision, the result,
probably, of fever or exhaustion.

"Oh, sahib," said he, as if in a dream, though he was quite awake; "look,
look! Look at the crowd of people walking on the water. There must be
more than a thousand men! Oh, how big they are getting!... And there is
God ... Seva.... No, they are Tibetans, they are coming to kill us, they
are Lamas! Oh, come, sahib, they are so near.... Oh, they are
flying...!"

I could see that the poor fellow was under an hallucination. His forehead
was burning and he was in a high fever.

"They have all disappeared!" he exclaimed, as I placed my hand on his
forehead and he woke from his trance.

He seemed quite stupefied for a few moments; and, on my inquiring of him
later whether he had seen the phantom crowd again, he could not remember
ever having seen it at all.

[Illustration: A TIBETAN SHEPHERD]

The natives came to visit us in the _serai_ during the evening, and we
had great fun with them, for the Tibetans are full of humour and have
many comical ways. As for ourselves, now that we were only two marches
from Taklakot, it was but natural that our spirits were high. Only two
more days of captivity, and then a prospect of freedom.

It was still dark when we were roused and ordered to start. The soldiers
dragged us out of the _serai_. We entreated them to let us have another
plunge in the sacred Mansarowar, and the three of us were eventually
allowed to do so. The water was bitterly cold, and we had nothing to dry
ourselves with.

It was about an hour before sunrise when we were placed on our yaks and,
surrounded by some thirty soldiers, rode off.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A SERAI]

CHAPTER XCVII

Suna--Wilson and the Political Peshkar across the frontier--A
messenger--Our progress stopped--Diverting us over the Lumpiya
Pass--Condemned to certain death--We attack our guard--Lapsang
and the Jong Pen's private secretary--A document--Nearing
Kardam--Retracing our steps--Dogmar.

[Illustration: TEA CHURN (OPEN)]

WHEN we had been marching for several hours, our guard halted to have
their tea. A man named Suna, and his brother and son, whom I had met in
Garbyang, halted near us, and from them I heard that news had arrived in
India that I and my two men had been beheaded, and that thereupon Doctor
Wilson and the Political Peshkar