it was, for though it
advanced with some rapidity, the object did not seem to enlarge. At last
the most singular person we had ever met with in our lives presented
himself to our view. We were obliged to make the utmost efforts to
repress the strong impulse to laughter that came upon us. This layman
seemed to be about fifty years old, but his height did not exceed three
feet. On the top of his head, which terminated like a sugar-loaf, rose a
small tuft of badly combed hair; a grey, thin beard descended in disorder
down his chin. Finally, two prominences, one on his back, the other on
his breast, communicated to this little butcher a perfect resemblance
with AEsop, as he appears in various editions of the "Fables de la
Fontaine."

The strong sonorous voice of the layman was in singular contrast with the
exiguity of his thin, stunted frame. He did not lose much time in
saluting the company. After having darted his small black eyes at the
sheep, which was tied to one of the nails of our tent, he said "Is this
the beast you wish to have put in order?" And while feeling its tail in
order to judge its fat, he gave it a turn, and placed it on its back with
remarkable dexterity. He next tied together its legs; then, while
uncovering his right arm by throwing back the sleeve of his leathern
coat, he asked whether the operation was to be effected in the tent or
outside? "Outside," said we. "Outside, very well, outside;" so saying,
he drew from a leathern sheath, suspended from his sash, a knife with a
large handle, but whose blade by long use had become thin and narrow.
After having examined for a moment its point with his thumb, he plunged
it to the hilt into the side of the sheep, and drawing it out quite red,
the sheep was dead, dead at once, without making any movement; not a
single drop of blood had spouted from the wound. We were greatly
astonished at this, and asked the little man how he managed to kill a
sheep so very easily and quickly. "We Tartars," he said, "do not kill in
the same way as the Kitat; they cut the throat, we go straight to the
heart. By our method, the animal suffers less, and all the blood is, as
it should be, retained in the interior."

The transmigration once operated, nobody had any further scruples. Our
Dchiahour and the Tartar Lama turned back their sleeves, and advanced to
assist the little butcher. The sheep was skinned with admirable
celerity. Meantime the mother of the Lama h