only
one corner of the floor slightly drier than the rest. There we all
slept huddled together. These _serais_ have no claim to cleanliness. On
this occasion all the minor animal life that inhabited the floor had,
with a view to avoiding the water, retreated to the higher portion of
the room, which we also had selected, so that one more trial was added
to all our other miseries. We were simply devoured by a swarm of
insects. This, indeed, was a dreadful pest, and one from which we
suffered indescribable agonies, not only on this occasion, but whenever
we halted near Tibetan camps.

When we rose in the morning the room was full of Tibetan men, women, and
children, who seemed good-natured and friendly.

"_Tanga chick!_" (a silver coin equivalent to half a rupee) cried an old
woman, who stuck a dried fish under my nose, professing volubly that it
had been caught in Mansarowar, and that it would make its possessor the
happiest of mortals. Others unrolled, from inside pieces of red cloth in
which they were wrapped, jewellery in the form of brooches, rings, and
ear-rings of brass or silver, inlaid with malachite.

"_Gurmoh sum!_" (Three rupees!), "_Diu, diu, diu!_" (Yes, yes, yes!),
"_Karuga ni!_" (Two two-anna pieces!), "_Gieut-cheke!_" (A four-anna
piece!), and so on, they called out the price of each article, all
talking at the same time, in their anxiety to dispose of their goods.

The jewellery was of local manufacture. In some cases the pieces of
malachite were firmly set, but usually a kind of paste was used for
holding the stones, and, consequently, pretty as the jewels were, they
soon broke.

The ear-rings were usually better made than the brooches. The most
interesting of all, because simpler and more characteristic, were the
flat silver charms, ornamented with a primitive design.

Several Lamas came to call on me in the morning, and professed to be
pleased to see us; in fact, they asked me to go and pay them a visit in
the Lamasery and temple. They said there was much sickness in the
village, and as they believed me to be a Hindoo doctor, they wished I
could do something to relieve their sufferings. I promised to do all I
could. I was glad to have this unique chance of visiting a Lamasery.
During this friendly visit to the Lamas I carried my rifle in my hand.
The Tibetans were too friendly to be trusted.

When I came out of our stuffy, dark room, preceded and followed by a
crowd of inquisitive natives, I h