omb. 'There is nothing more here.'

'He is examining Atisa's tomb.'

'And who the devil is Atisa?'

And who is he? Merely a name to a few dry-as-dust pedants. Everything
human he did is forgotten. The faintest ripple remains to-day from that
stone cast into the stagnant waters so many years ago. A few monks drone
away their days in a monastery close by. In the courtyard there is a
border of hollyhocks and snapdragon and asters. Here the unsavoury
guardians of Atisa's tomb watch me as I write, and wonder what on earth
I am doing among them, and what spell or mantra I am inscribing in the
little black book that shuts so tightly with a clasp.

TOILUNG.

To-morrow we reach Lhasa.

A few hours ago we caught the first glimpse of the Potala Palace, a
golden dome standing out on a bluff rock in the centre of the valley.
The city is not seen from afar perched on a hill like the great
monasteries and jongs of the country. It is literally 'hidden.' A rocky
promontory projects from the bleak hills to the south like a screen,
hiding Lhasa, as if Nature conspired in its seclusion. Here at a
distance of seven miles we can see the Potala and the Lamas' Medical
College.

Trees and undulating ground shut out the view of the actual city until
one is within a mile of it.

To-morrow we camp outside. It is nearly a hundred years since Thomas
Manning, the only Englishman (until to-day) who ever saw Lhasa, preceded
us. Our journey has not been easy, but we have come in spite of
everything.

The Lamas have opposed us with all their material and spiritual
resources. They have fought us with medieval weapons and a medley of
modern firearms. They have held Commination Services, recited mantras,
and cursed us solemnly for days. Yet we have come on.

They have sent delegates and messengers of every rank to threaten and
entreat and plead with us--emissaries of increasing importance as we
have drawn nearer their capital, until the Dalai Lama despatched his own
Grand Chamberlain and Grand Secretary, and, greater than these, the Ta
Lama and Yutok Shape, members of the ruling Council of Five, whose
sacred persons had never before been seen by European eyes. To-morrow
the Amban himself comes to meet Colonel Younghusband. The Dalai Lama has
sent him a letter sealed with his own seal.

Every stretch of road from the frontier to Lhasa has had its symbol of
remonstrance. Cairns and chortens, and _mani_ walls and praying-flags,
demons pain