rce, and not to talk big words.
Who ever saw the fox that could terrify the terrible yak of the
mountains? The oulah will be ready presently; if you do not take it, and
go to-day, to-morrow the price will be doubled." The Chinese perceiving
that violence would only involve disagreeable results, had recourse to
cajolery, but to no purpose. Ly-Kouo-Ngan found no resource except that
of opening his strong-box, and weighing out the required sum. The oulah
soon arrived, and we occupied ourselves busily with the organisation of
the caravan, in order to leave as soon as possible this village of Gaya,
which the Chinese deemed barbarous and inhabitable, but which seemed to
us extremely picturesque.

From Gaya to Angti, where we were to change the oulah, was only a short
stage of thirty lis. The Chinese were in despair at having been obliged
to spend so much money to effect so short a distance; but they had only
come to the commencement of their miseries; for we were destined to meet
with Thibetian tribes, still less tractable than those of Gaya.

The snow, which had given us a few days' respite since our departure from
Tsiamdo, again assailed us on the very evening of our arrival at Angti.
During the night, and the following day, it fell in such abundance that
we were unable to go out without having it up to our knees. As a climax
of misfortune, we had, on leaving Angti, to ascend one of the rugged and
most dangerous mountains on this route. The Chinese Itinerary thus
describes it: "At Angti, you cross a great snow-clad mountain; the road
is very steep; the accumulated snows resemble a silvery vapour. The fog
which the mountain exhales penetrates the body, and makes the Chinese
ill."

According to a popular tradition of the country, in the olden time, a
chief of the tribe of Angti, a famous warrior, held in awe by all his
neighbours, was buried under an avalanche one day when he was crossing
the mountain. All the efforts to recover his body were fruitless. A
holy Lama of the period, having declared that the chief had become the
genius of the mountain, they raised a temple to him, which still exists,
and where travellers never fail to burn a few incense sticks, before
proceeding on their way. In tempests, when the wind blows with violence,
the genius of Mount Angti never fails to appear; there is no one about
who has not seen him several times. He is always seen mounted upon a red
horse, clothed in large white robes