w the most varied and fantastic outlines; now they
are ranged symmetrically, one against the other, like the teeth of a huge
saw. These regions change their aspect every instant, and offer to the
contemplation of travellers landscapes of infinite variety; yet, amidst
this inexhaustible diversity, the continuous sight of mountains diffuses
over the route a certain uniformity which after awhile becomes tiresome.
A detailed account of a journey in Thibet being extremely susceptible of
monotony, we abstain, that we may not fall into unnecessary repetitions
from describing the ordinary mountains. We shall content ourselves with
mentioning the most celebrated--those which, in the Chinese phrase,
"claim the life of travellers." This method, besides, will be
conformable with the style of the inhabitants of these mountainous
countries, who call whatever is not lost in the clouds, _plain_; whatever
is not precipice and labyrinth, _level road_.

The high grounds we traversed, after surmounting the Chor-Kou-La,
[Picture: The Defile of Alan-To] are considered by the natives level
ground. "Thence to Alan-To," said the Thibetian escort to us, "there is
no mountain; the path is all like that," showing us the palm of their
hand. "Yet," said they, "it is necessary to use a good deal of
precaution, for the paths are sometimes very narrow and slippery." Now
hear what, in reality, was this same road, "as flat as the palm of your
hand." As soon as you have quitted the summits of Chor-Kou-La, you
encounter a long series of frightful chasms, bordered on each side by
mountains cut perpendicularly, and rising up like two vast walls of
living rock. Travellers are obliged to pass these deep abysses by
following, at a great height, so narrow a ledge, that the horses
frequently find only just enough room to plant their feet. As soon as we
saw the oxen of the caravan making their way along this horrible path,
and heard the low roar of the waters rising from the depths of those
gulfs, we were seized with fear, and dismounted, but every one at once
told us immediately to remount, saying that the horses, accustomed to the
journey, had surer feet than we; that we must let them go their own way,
contenting ourselves with keeping firmly in our stirrups, and not looking
about us. We recommended our souls to God, and followed in the wake of
the column. We were soon convinced that, in point of fact, it would have
been impossible for us to keep our e