ticularly inodorous, which each animal in turns spat against him.
At length, when Samdadchiemba had sufficiently entertained himself with
the scene, he went to the camels, and, exercising his recognised
authority over them, made them kneel in the manner desired.

We at length floated upon the waters of the Yellow River; but though
there were four boatmen, their united strength could scarcely make head
against the force of the current. We had effected about half our voyage,
when a camel suddenly rose, and shook the boat so violently that it was
nearly upset. The boatmen, after ejaculating a tremendous oath, told us
to look after our camels and prevent them from getting up, unless we
wanted the whole party to be engulfed. The danger was indeed formidable.
The camel, infirm upon its legs, and yielding to every movement of the
boat, menaced us with a catastrophe. Samdadchiemba, however, managed to
get quickly beside the animal, and at once induced it to kneel, so that
we were let off with our fright, and in due course reached the other side
of the river.

At the moment of disembarkation, the horse, impatient to be once more on
land, leaped out of the boat, but striking, on its way, against the
anchor, fell on its side in the mud. The ground not being yet dry, we
were fain to take off our shoes, and to carry the baggage on our
shoulders to an adjacent eminence; there we asked the boatmen if we
should be any great length of time in traversing the marsh and mud that
lay stretched out before us. The chief boatman raised his head, and
after looking for a while towards the sun, said: "It will soon be noon;
by the evening you will reach the banks of the Little River; to-morrow
you will find the ground dry." It was under these melancholy auspices
that we proceeded upon our journey, through one of the most detestable
districts to be found in the whole world.

We had been told in what direction we were to proceed; but the inundation
had obliterated every trace of path and even of road, and we could only
regulate our course by the nature of the ground, keeping as clear as we
could of the deeper quagmires, sometimes making a long circuit in order
to reach what seemed firmer ground, and then, finding the supposed solid
turf to be nothing more than a piece of water, green with stagnant matter
and aquatic plants, having to turn back, and, as it were, grope one's way
in another direction, fearful, at every step, of being plunged in