voirs, grows so furious, that tall columns of water rise into the
air, as though impelled by some tremendous pumping machinery. Above
these springs, thick vapours, collecting in the air, condense into white
clouds. The water is sulphureous. After bubbling and dashing about in
its huge granite reservoirs, it boils over, and quitting the rocks, which
had seemed to wish to keep it captive, pours down by various currents
into a small valley below, where it forms a large stream flowing over a
bed of flints, yellow as gold. These boiling waters do not long preserve
their fluidity. The extreme rigour of the atmosphere cools them so
rapidly, that within a mile and a half from its source, the stream they
have thus formed is almost frozen through. These hot springs are of
frequent occurrence in the mountains of Thibet, and the Lama physicians,
who attribute to them considerable medicinal virtue, constantly prescribe
their use, both internally and externally.
From the Tant-La mountains to Lha-Ssa, the ground constantly declines.
As you descend, the intensity of the cold diminishes, and the earth
becomes clothed with more vigorous and more varied vegetation. One
evening, we encamped in a large plain, where the pasturage was
marvellously abundant, and as our cattle had been for some time past on
very short commons indeed, we determined to give them the full benefit of
the present opportunity, and to remain where we were for two days.
Next morning, as we were quietly preparing our tea, we perceived in the
distance a troop of horsemen galloping towards our encampment at full
speed. The sight seemed to freeze the very blood in our veins; we stood
for a moment perfectly petrified. After the first moment of stupor, we
rushed out of our tent, and ran to Rala-Tchembe. "The Kolo! the Kolo!"
cried we; "here's a great body of Kolo advancing against us." The
Thibetian merchants, who were boiling their tea and mixing their tsamba,
laughed at our alarm, and told us to sit down quite at our ease. "Take
breakfast with us," said they; "there are no Kolo to fear here; the
horsemen you see yonder are friends. We are now entering upon an
inhabited country; behind the hill there, to the right, are a number of
black tents, and the horsemen, whom you take to be Kolo, are shepherds."
These words restored our equanimity, and with our equanimity returned our
appetite, so that we were very happy to accept the invitation to
breakfast with which
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