and three more deep rivers to wade, with cold
water from the snows reaching up to our chests. We had to make the best
way we could through a large field of iron-bearing rock, which so
affected my compass that for the time it became quite unreliable, owing
to its deviation.

Mile after mile we marched over sharp stones, wading through another
troublesome delta fully a mile in width with eight streams, and crossing
a flat basin of pointed pebbles. At last, to our great comfort, we came
to smooth grass-land.

Here the Kuti River flowed through a large basin, not unlike the one
near which we had camped the night before. It looked like the bed of a
lake, with high vertical rocks on the left. As we went on to the
north-west the basin became wider and the Kuti River turned to the
north-west, while the Mangshan River, descending from the east, joined
the first stream in the centre of the basin. In wading through the
numerous branches of the two rivers we felt more than ever the trials
and weariness of the day before. The water seemed colder than ever. Our
feet were by this time in a dreadful condition, bleeding and sore,
because it was constantly necessary to walk barefooted rather than keep
removing our foot-gear every few minutes. Aching and chilled, we
stumbled on, in and out of the water, always treading, it seemed, on
sharply pointed stones. The pain had to be borne patiently. At last we
reached our camping-ground, situated under the lee of the high chain of
mountains to the north of us and on the northern bank of the Mangshan
River. Directly in front of us stood the final obstacle--the great
backbone of the Himahlyas. Once across this range, I should be on the
high Tibetan plateau so accurately described as "the roof of the
world."

CHAPTER III

A NARROW ESCAPE

From Kuti I had sent a sturdy Shoka named Nattoo to find out whether it
was possible to cross the Himahlyan chain over the high Mangshan Pass.
In case of a favorable report, I should be able to get several marches
into Tibet without fear of being detected. I reckoned on turning the
position occupied by the force of soldiers which I was informed the Jong
Pen of Taklakot had gathered on the Lippu Pass in order to prevent my
entering his country. Before the Tibetans could have time to find where
I was, I should be too far into the forbidden land for them to catch me
up. Nattoo duly returned. He had been half-way up the mountain. The snow
was deep, and