condition grew more alarming. His extreme weakness would not permit him
to walk, and being thus precluded from warming himself by means of a
little exercise, his feet, hands, and face were completely frozen; his
lips became livid, and his eyes almost extinct; by-and-by he was not able
to support himself on horseback. Our only remedy was to wrap him in
blankets, to pack him upon a camel, and to leave the rest to the merciful
goodness of Divine Providence.

One day, as we were following the sinuosities of a valley, our hearts
oppressed with sad thoughts, all of a sudden we perceived two horsemen
make their appearance on the ridge of an adjacent hill. At this time, we
were travelling in the company of a small party of Thibetian merchants,
who, like ourselves, had allowed the main body of the caravan to precede
them, in order to save their camels the fatigue of a too hurried march.
"Tsong-Kaba," cried the Thibetians, "see, there are horsemen yonder, yet
we are in the desert, and every one knows that there are not even
shepherds in this locality." They had scarcely uttered these words, when
a number of other horsemen appeared at different points on the hills,
and, to our extreme alarm, dashed down towards us at a gallop. What
could these horsemen be doing in so barren a region? What could they
want with us? The case was clear: we had fallen into the hands of
thieves. Their appearance, as they approached, was anything but
reassuring: a carbine slung at the saddle bow, two long sabres in the
girdle, thick black hair falling in disorder over the shoulders, glaring
eyes, and a wolf's skin stuck on the head by way of cap; such was the
portrait of each of the gentlemen who now favoured us with their company.
There were twenty-seven of them, while we numbered only eighteen, of
which eighteen all were by no means practised warriors. However, both
armies alighted, and a valorous Thibetian of our party advanced to parley
with the chief of the brigands, who was distinguished from his men by two
red pennants which floated from his saddle back. After a long and
somewhat animated conversation; "Who is that man?" asked the chief of the
Kolo, pointing to M. Gabet, who, fastened upon his camel, was the only
person who had not alighted. "He is a Grand Lama of the western sky,"
replied the Thibetian merchant; "the power of his prayers is infinite."
The Kolo raised his clasped hands to his forehead, in token of respect,
and looked a