this sort of vent-hole of Erebus, rose and came to the
threshold. He was neither a devil nor a ghost, but simply a Mongol
Tartar, who, the night before, having been surprised by the storm, had
fled to this cave, where he had passed the night. After a few words
about the rain, wind and hail, we invited him to breakfast with us, and
brought him to our dwelling. While Samdadchiemba, aided by our guest,
made the tea, we went out again to pursue our researches.

We walked amid these deserted and silent abodes with a curiosity not free
from terror. All were constructed upon much the same model, and still
preserved their pristine integrity. Chinese characters engraved on the
walls, and pieces of porcelain vases, confirmed our impression that these
caves had been inhabited not long since by Chinese. Some old woman's
shoes, which we discovered in a corner, removed any remaining doubt. We
could not shake off a feeling of sadness and melancholy, when we thought
of those numerous families, who, after having lived a long time in the
entrails of this large mountain, had gone elsewhere to seek a more
hospitable soil. As we entered the caves, we alarmed flocks of sparrows,
which had not yet left these former dwellings of man, but had, on the
contrary, boldly taken possession of these grand nests. The millet and
oats strewn around profusely, induced them to remain. "Undoubtedly,"
said we, "they too will fly away when they no longer find here any more
grains, when they find that the old inhabitants of these caves return no
more, and they will seek hospitality under the roofs of houses."

The sparrow is a regular cosmopolite; we have found it wherever we have
found man; ever with the same vivid, petulant, quarrelsome character;
ever with the same sharp, angry cry. It is, however, to be remarked that
in Tartary, China, and Thibet it is, perhaps, more insolent than in
Europe; because there, nobody makes war upon it, and its nest and brood
are piously respected. You see it boldly enter the house, live there on
familiar terms, and peck up at its leisure the remnants of man's food.
The Chinese call it Kio-nio-eul, (bird of the family).

After having inspected about thirty of these caves, which did not present
anything remarkable, we returned to our own. At breakfast, the
conversation naturally turned upon the Chinese who had excavated these
dwellings. We asked the Tartar if he had seen them. "What!" said he,
"have I seen the K