ast to west. The road was
filled with men, women, and children, riding on camels or oxen. They
were all repairing, they said, to the Lamasery of Rache-Tchurin. When
they had asked whether our journey had the same object, they were
surprised at receiving an answer in the negative. These numerous
pilgrims, the astonishment they showed upon hearing that we were not
going to the Lamasery of Rache-Tchurin, excited our curiosity. At the
turn of a defile, we overtook an old Lama, who, laden with a heavy pack,
seemed to make his way with great labour and pain. "Brother," said we,
"you are old; your black hairs are not so numerous as the grey.
Doubtless your fatigue must be extreme. Place your burden upon one of
our camels; that will relieve you a little." Upon hearing these words
the old man prostrated himself before us, in order to express his
gratitude. We made a camel kneel, and Samdadchiemba added to our baggage
that of the Lama. So soon as the pilgrim was relieved from the weight
which had oppressed him, his walk became more elastic, and an expression
of satisfaction was diffused over his countenance. "Brother," said we,
"we are from the West, and the affairs of your country not being well
known to us, we are astonished at finding so many pilgrims here in the
desert." "We are all going to Rache-Tchurin," replied he, in accents
full of emotion. "Doubtless," said we, "some grand solemnity calls you
together?" "Yes, to-morrow will be a great day: a Lama Bokte will
manifest his power: kill himself, yet not die." We at once understood
what solemnity it was that thus attracted the Ortous-Tartars. A Lama was
to cut himself open, take out his entrails and place them before him, and
then resume his previous condition. This spectacle, so cruel and
disgusting, is very common in the Lamaseries of Tartary. The Bokte who
is to manifest his power, as the Mongols phrase it, prepares himself for
the formidable operation by many days fasting and prayer, pending which,
he must abstain from all communication whatever with mankind, and observe
the most absolute silence. When the appointed day is come, the multitude
of pilgrims assemble in the great court of the Lamasery, where an altar
is raised in front of the Temple-gate. At length the Bokte appears. He
advances gravely, amid the acclamations of the crowd, seats himself upon
the altar, and takes from his girdle a large knife which he places upon
his knees. At his feet, nu