travelled a good deal in Mongolia, it does not follow that you are
master of all the routes; distrust, therefore, your own conjectures, and
be more willing to consult the Tartars whom we meet. If yesterday, for
example, you had asked the way, if you had not persisted in your practice
of being guided wholly by the course of the sun, we should not have
endured so much misery." Samdadchiemba made no reply.

We then got up to make the preparations for departure. When we had put
in order the different articles that had been confusedly thrown about the
tent, we remarked that the Dchiahour was not occupied, as usual, in
saddling the camels. We went to see what he was about, and to our great
surprise found him tranquilly seated upon a large stone behind the tent.
"Well!" exclaimed we, "has it not been determined that we are to encamp
elsewhere this evening? What are you seated on that stone for?"
Samdadchiemba made no reply; he did not even raise his eyes, but kept
them fixedly directed towards the ground. "Samdadchiemba, what is the
matter with you? Why don't you saddle the camels?" "If you wish to go,"
replied he drily, "you can go; as for me, I remain here. I cannot any
longer accompany you. I am, it seems, a wicked man, devoid of
conscience; what occasion can you have for such a person?" We were
greatly surprised to hear this from a young neophyte who had seemed so
attached to us. We, however, thought it best to attempt no persuasion,
lest we should aggravate the sullen pride of his character, and render
him still more indocile for the future. We accordingly proceeded to do
the necessary work ourselves.

We had already folded the tent and packed it on a camel, not a word being
spoken by any of the party. Samdadchiemba remained seated on the stone,
covering his face with his hands, and probably watching through his
fingers how we got on with the labour which he was accustomed to fulfil.
When he saw that we were doing very well without him, he rose, without
uttering a word, loaded the other camel, saddled his own mule, mounted
it, and led the way as usual. M. Gabet and M. Huc exchanged smiles, but
they said nothing, for they feared that any observations at that moment
might irritate a temperament which evidently required the greatest care
in its management.

We halted in a spot beside the road, not very magnificent, certainly, as
a station, but at all events, infinitely preferable to the ravine of
desolation