efore mounting their horses, and all the time they are on
duty, they content themselves with swallowing two raw eggs at every
stage. The men who perform this arduous labour rarely attain an advanced
age; many of them fall into the abysses or remain buried in the snow.
Those who escape the perils of the road fall victims to the diseases
which they readily contract in these dreadful regions. We have never
been able to conceive how these couriers travelled by night among these
mountains of Thibet, where almost at every step you find frightful
precipices.

You see at Chobando two Buddhic monasteries, where numerous Lamas reside,
belonging to the sect of the Yellow Cap. In one of these monasteries
there is a great printing press, which furnishes sacred books to the
Lamaseries of the province of Kham.

From Chobando, after two long and arduous days' march, in the turnings
and windings of the mountains, and through immense forests of pine and
holly, you reach Kia-Yu-Kiao. This village is built on the rugged banks
of the river Souk-Tchou, which flows between two mountains, and the
waters of which are wide, deep, and rapid. On our arrival we found the
inhabitants of Kia-Yu-Kiao in a state of profound grief. Not long
before, a large wooden bridge, thrown over the river, had broken down,
and two men and three oxen who were upon it at the time perished in the
waters. We could still see the remains of this bridge, built of large
trunks of trees; the wood, completely rotten, showed that the bridge had
fallen from decay. At sight of these sad ruins, we thanked Providence
for having kept us three days on the other side of the mountain of Tanda.
If we had arrived at Kia-Yu-Kiao before the fall of the bridge, it would
probably have sunk under the weight of the caravan.

Contrary to our expectation, this accident caused us no delay. The Dheba
of the place hastened to construct a raft; and on the morrow we were
able, at daybreak, to resume our march. The men, baggage, and saddles
crossed the river on the raft, the animals swimming.

Thirty lis from Kia-Yu-Kiao, we came to a wooden bridge, suspended over a
frightful precipice. Having our imaginations still full of the accident
at Kia-Yu-Kiao, we felt, at sight of this perilous pass, a cold shudder
of terror pervade all our limbs. As a matter of precaution, we made the
animals pass first, one after the other; the bridge trembled and shook
under them, but held firm; the men wen