s to boil until it is almost black; the mixture
is then poured into a large vessel, and invariably offered to every
guest on his arrival. The Russians also consume a large quantity of this
article, and in the north of Tartary it serves as the only medium of
exchange. A house, a camel, or a horse, is sold for so many teas--five
teas being worth an ounce of silver.

Life in the desert is monotonous enough; and yet, though half of the
first volume is devoted to the pilgrimage through the plains of
Mongolia, the interest never flags. The little incidents of travel are
told good-humoredly, and sometimes are most amusing. Let us take, for
instance, the following account given by a Tartar hero of the war
against the English. The narrator was a native of the Tchakar country,
and had with his countrymen been called out to march against the "rebels
of the south"--as the Tartars usually call us. The Tchakar (literally
border-country) is, in fact, an immense camp, of which all the
inhabitants are bound to military service, and are divided into
different tribes, or "banners." The pastures of the Tchakar serve to
feed the innumerable flocks of the Emperor of China, and the natives are
almost exclusively employed in tending them. They are not allowed to
cultivate the soil, or to sell any portion of it to their Chinese
neighbors. As may be imagined, these shepherd-soldiers are only called
upon on great occasions, but they are then supposed to be irresistible.

"So you were engaged in that famous war of the south! How could
you shepherds have the courage of soldiers? Accustomed to a
peaceful life, you are strangers to that rude trade, which
consists in killing, or being killed." "Yes, we are shepherds,
it is true; but we do not forget that we are soldiers also, and
that the eight banners compose the body of reserve of the
"Great Master" (the Emperor). You know the rules of the Empire.
When the enemy appears, the militia of the Kitat (Chinese) is
first sent; then the banners of the Solon district are brought
forward; if the war is not ended, then a signal is made to the
banners of Tchakar; and the very sound of their steps is always
sufficient to reduce the rebels to order."... "Did you
fight?--did you see the enemy?" inquired Samdadchiemba. "No,
they dared not make their appearance. The Kitat kept on saying
that we were marching to certain and needless death. Wh