paid by the Emperor of China. In fact, the
Tchakar is nothing more nor less than a vast camp, occupied by an army of
reserve. In order, no doubt, that this army may be at all times ready to
march at the first signal, the Tartars are severely prohibited to
cultivate the land. They must live upon their pay, and upon the produce
of their flocks and herds. The entire soil of the Eight Banners is
inalienable. It sometimes happens that an individual sells his portion
to some Chinese; but the sale is always declared null and void if it
comes in any shape before the tribunals.

It is in these pasturages of the Tchakar that are found the numerous and
magnificent herds and flocks of the Emperor, consisting of camels,
horses, cattle, and sheep. There are 360 herds of horses alone, each
numbering 1200 horses. It is easy from this one detail, to imagine the
enormous extent of animals possessed here by the Emperor. A Tartar,
decorated with the white button, has charge of each herd. At certain
intervals, inspectors-general visit the herds, and if any deficiency in
the number is discovered, the chief herdsman has to make it good at his
own cost. Notwithstanding this impending penalty, the Tartars do not
fail to convert to their own use the wealth of the Sacred Master, by
means of a fraudulent exchange. Whenever a Chinese has a broken-winded
horse, or a lame ox, he takes it to the imperial herdsman, who, for a
trifling consideration, allows him to select what animal he pleases in
exchange, from among the imperial herds. Being thus always provided with
the actual number of animals, they can benefit by their fraud in perfect
security.

Never in more splendid weather had we traversed a more splendid country.
The desert is at times horrible, hideous; but it has also its
charms--charms all the more intensely appreciated, because they are rare
in themselves, and because they would in vain be sought in populated
countries. Tartary has an aspect altogether peculiar to itself: there is
nothing in the world that at all resembles a Tartar landscape. In
civilised countries you find, at every step, populous towns, a rich and
varied cultivation, the thousand and one productions of arts and
industry, the incessant movements of commerce. You are constantly
impelled onwards, carried away, as it were, by some vast whirlwind. On
the other hand, in countries where civilisation has not as yet made its
way into the light, you ordinarily find