rrived here this morning alone and on foot, for
his horse was also swallowed up. However," said the Dheba, "you can go
when you like; the oulah is at your service, but you will have to pay for
the oxen and horses that will die on the way." Having thus stated his
ultimatum, the Thibetian diplomatist put out his tongue at us, scratched
his ear, and withdrew. Whilst the Pacificator of Kingdoms, the Lama
Dsiamdchang, and a few other experienced persons belonging to the
caravan, were discussing earnestly the question of departure, we took up
the Chinese Itinerary, and read there the following passage: "The
mountain of Tanda is extremely precipitous and difficult of ascent; a
stream meanders through a narrow ravine: during the summer it is miry and
slippery, and during the winter it is covered with ice and snow.
Travellers, provided with sticks, pass it, one after the other, like a
file of fish. It is the most difficult passage on the whole way to
Lha-Ssa." On reading this last sentence, the book fell from our hands.
After a moment's stupor, we resumed the book, in order to assure our
selves that we had read correctly. We were right; there it was written:
"It is the most difficult passage on all the way to Lha-Ssa." The
prospect of having to pursue a still more arduous route than that of
Alan-To was enough to stagnate the blood in our veins. "The ambassador
Ki-Chan," said we to ourselves, "is evidently a cowardly assassin. Not
having dared to kill us at Lha-Ssa, he has sent us to die in the midst of
the snow." This fit of depression lasted but for an instant; God, in his
goodness, gradually restored to us all our energies, and we rose to take
part in the discussion which was proceeding around us, and the result of
which was that, on the morrow, a few men of the caravan should set out
before daybreak to sound the depth of the snow, and to assure themselves
of the real state of the case. Towards midday the scouts returned, and
announced that Mount Tanda was impassable. These tidings distressed all
of us. We ourselves, although in no great hurry, were annoyed. The
weather was beautiful, and we apprehended that if we did not profit by
it, we should soon have fresh snow, and thus see our departure
indefinitely adjourned. Whilst we were anxiously deliberating what we
should do, the Dheba of the place came to relieve us from our
embarrassment. He proposed to send a herd of oxen to trample down, for
two days, the snow t