Tsiamdo sent us an escort
of four Thibetian horsemen, to guard us until we reached the territory of
the Tchaktchouba of Djaya. On quitting the town, we passed over a
magnificent bridge entirely built of large trunks of fir, and we then
found ourselves on the Sse-Tchouen road, which meanders along the sides
of a high mountain, at the base of which runs the rapid river Dza-Tchou.
After proceeding twenty lis, we met, at a turn of the mountain, in a deep
and retired gorge, a little party of travellers, who presented a picture
full of poetry: The procession was opened by a Thibetian woman astride a
fine donkey, and carrying an infant, solidly fastened to her shoulders by
large leathern straps. She led after her, by a long cord, a pack-horse,
laden with two panniers, which hung symmetrically on its sides. These
two panniers served as lodgings for two children, whose laughing joyous
faces we saw peeping out from little windows in their respective baskets.
The difference in the age of these children seemed slight; but they could
not be of the same weight, for to keep the equilibrium between them, a
large stone was tied to the side of one of the panniers. Behind the
horse laden with these child-boxes followed a horseman, whom one easily
recognised, by his costume, as a retired Chinese soldier. He had behind
him, on the crupper, a boy of twelve years old. Last of all, an enormous
red-haired dog, with squinting eyes, and an expression altogether of
decided bad temper, completed this singular caravan, which joined us, and
took advantage of our company as far as the province of Sse-Tchouen.

The Chinese was an ex-soldier of the garrison of Tsiamdo. Having
performed the three years' service required by law, he had obtained leave
to remain in Thibet, and to engage in commerce. He had married, and
after having amassed a little fortune, he was returning to his country
with all his family.

We could not but admire the fortitude, the energy, and the devotion of
this brave Chinese, so different from his selfish countrymen, who never
scruple to leave their wives and children in foreign lands. He had to
bear up, not only against the dangers and fatigues of a long journey, but
also against the raillery of those who themselves had not the heart to
follow his good example. The soldiers of our escort soon began to turn
him into ridicule. "This man," said they, "is evidently insane; to bring
from foreign countries money and merchandise