nt
enough; but, as it would not have been prudent to remain out all night,
at sunset we sought an inn: the preservation of our animals of itself
sufficed to render this proceeding necessary. There was nothing for them
to eat on the way side, and had we not resorted in the evening to places
where we could purchase forage for them, they would, of course, have
speedily died.

On the second evening after our departure from Blue Town, we encountered
at an inn a very singular personage. We had just tied our animals to a
manger under a shed in the great court, when a traveller made his
appearance, leading by a halter a lean, raw-boned horse. The traveller
was short, but then his rotundity was prodigious. He wore on his head a
great straw hat, the flapping brim of which rested on his shoulders; a
long sabre suspended from his girdle presented an amusing contrast with
the peaceful joyousness of his physiognomy. "Superintendent of the
soup-kettle," cried he, as he entered, "is there room for me in your
tavern?" "I have but one travellers' room," answered the innkeeper, "and
three Mongols who have just come occupy it; you can ask them if they will
make room for you." The traveller waddled towards us. "Peace and
happiness unto you, Sirs Lamas: do you need the whole of your room, or
can you accommodate me?" "Why not? We are all travellers, and should
serve one another." "Words of excellence! You are Tartars; I am
Chinese, yet, comprehending the claims of hospitality, you act upon the
truth, that all men are brothers." Hereupon, fastening his horse to a
manger, he joined us, and, having deposited his travelling-bag upon the
kang, stretched himself at full length, with the air of a man greatly
fatigued. "Whither are you bound?" asked we; "are you going to buy up
salt or catsup for some Chinese company?" "No; I represent a great
commercial house at Peking, and I am collecting some debts from the
Tartars. Where are you going?" "We shall to-day pass the Yellow River
to Tchagan Kouren, and then journey westward through the country of the
Ortous." "You are not Mongols, apparently?" "No; we are from the West."
"Well, it seems we are both of one trade; you, like myself, are
Tartar-eaters." "Tartar-eaters! What do you mean?" "Why, we eat the
Tartars. You eat them by prayers; I by commerce. And why not? The
Mongols are poor simpletons, and we may as well get their money as
anybody else." "You are mistaken. Since we e