One felt cooped in, and was thoroughly bored and tired of
the delay, so that when General Macdonald marched out of Phari with his
little army in three columns, a feeling of exhilaration communicated
itself to the troops.

Here was elbow-room at last, and an open plain, where all the army corps
of Europe might manoeuvre. At Tuna, on the evening of the 29th, it was
given out in orders that a reconnaissance in force was to be made the
next morning, and two companies of the 32nd Pioneers would be left at
Guru. The Tibetan camp at the Hot Springs lay right across our line of
march, and the hill that flanked it was lined with their sangars. They
must either fight or retire. Most of us thought that the Tibetans would
fade away in the mysterious manner they have, and build another futile
wall further on. The extraordinary affair that followed must be a unique
event in military history.

The morning of the 30th was bitterly cold. An icy wind was blowing, and
snow was lying on the ground. I put on my thick sheepskin for the first
time for two months, and I owe my life to it.

About an hour after leaving Tuna, two or three Tibetan messengers rode
out from their camp to interview Colonel Younghusband. They got down
from their ponies and began chattering in a very excited manner, like a
flock of frightened parrots. It was evident to us, not understanding the
language, that they were entreating us to go back, and the constant
reference to Yatung told us that they were repeating the message that
had been sent into the Tuna camp almost daily during the past few
months--that if we retired to Yatung the Dalai Lama would send an
accredited envoy to treat with us. Being met with the usual answer,
they mounted dejectedly and rode off at a gallop to their camp.

Soon after they had disappeared another group of horsemen were seen
riding towards us. These proved to be the Lhasa Depon, accompanied by an
influential Lama and a small escort armed with modern rifles. The rifles
were naturally inspected with great interest. They were of different
patterns--Martini-Henri, Lee-Metford, Snider--but the clumsily-painted
stocks alone were enough to show that they were shoddy weapons of native
manufacture. They left no mark on our troops.

According to Tibetan custom, a rug was spread on the ground for the
interview between Colonel Younghusband and the Lhasa Depon, who
conferred sitting down. Captain O'Connor, the secretary of the mission,
interpret