our tent. His face was exactly like wax, and his eyes, half-opened, had
a glassy appearance; icicles hung from his nostrils and from the corners
of his mouth. We spoke to him, but obtained no answer; and for a moment
we thought him dead. Presently, however, he opened his eyes, and fixed
them upon us with a horrible expression of stupifaction: the poor
creature was frozen, and we comprehended at once that he had been
abandoned by his companions. It seemed to us so frightful to leave a man
to die, without making an effort to save him, that we did not hesitate to
take him with us. We took him from the stone on which he had been
placed, enveloped him in a wrapper, seated him upon Samdadchiemba's
little mule, and thus brought him to the encampment. When we had set up
our tent, we went to visit the companions of this poor young man. Upon
our informing them what we had done, they prostrated themselves in token
of thanks, and said that we were people of excellent hearts, but that we
had given ourselves much labour in vain, for that the case was beyond
cure. "He is frozen," said they, "and nothing can prevent the cold from
getting to his heart." We ourselves did not participate in this
despairing view of the case, and we returned to our tent, accompanied by
one of the patient's companions, to see what further could be done. When
we reached our temporary home, the young Lama was dead.

More than forty men of the caravan were abandoned still living, in the
desert, without the slightest possibility of our aiding them. They were
carried on horseback and on camelback so long as any hope remained, but
when they could no longer eat, or speak, or hold themselves up, they were
left on the way-side. The general body of the caravan could not stay to
nurse them, in a barren desert, where there was hourly danger of wild
beasts, of robbers, and, worse than all, of a deficiency of food. Yet,
it was a fearful spectacle to see these dying men abandoned on the road!
As a last token of sympathy, we placed beside each, a wooden cup and a
small bag of barley-meal, and then the caravan mournfully proceeded on
its way. As soon as the last straggler had passed on, the crows and
vultures that incessantly hovered above the caravan, would pounce down
upon the unhappy creatures who retained just enough of life to feel
themselves torn and mangled by these birds of prey.

The north wind greatly aggravated M. Gabet's malady. From day to day his