ority. Who can tell what
they think or what they wish, these undivinable creatures? They love
money, we know, and they love something else that we cannot know. It is
not country, or race, or religion, but an inscrutable something that may
be allied to these things, that induces a mental obstinacy, an
unfathomable reserve which may conceal a wisdom beyond our philosophy or
mere callousness and indifference. The thing is there, though it has no
European name or definition. It has caused many curious and unexplained
outbreaks in different parts of the world, and it is no doubt symbolized
in their inexpressibly hideous flag. The element is non-conductive, and
receives no current from progress, and it is therefore incommunicable to
us who are wrapped in the pride of evolution. The question here and
elsewhere is whether the Chinese love money more or this inscrutable
dragon element. If it is money, their masks must have concealed a
satisfaction at the prospect of the increased trade that follows our
flag; if the dragon element, a grim hope that we might be cut off in the
wilderness and annihilated by Asiatic hordes.

Unlike the Chinese, the Tomos are unaffectedly glad to see us in the
valley. The humblest peasant is the richer by our presence, and the
landowners and traders are more prosperous than they have been for many
years. Their uncompromising reception of us makes a withdrawal from the
Chumbi Valley impossible, for the Tibetans would punish them
relentlessly for the assistance they have given their enemies.

A mile beyond Gob-sorg is the Tibetan village of Galing-ka, where the
praying-flags are as thick as masts in a dockyard, and streams of paper
prayers are hung across the valley to prevent the entrance of evil
spirits. Chubby little children run out and salute one with a cry of
'Backsheesh!' the first alien word in their infant vocabulary.

A mile further a sudden turn in the valley brings one to a level
plain--a phenomenally flat piece of ground where one can race two miles
along the straight. No one passes it without remarking that it is the
best site for a hill-station in Northern India. Where else can one find
a racecourse, polo-ground, fishing, and shooting, and a rainfall that is
little more than a third of that of Darjeeling? Three hundred feet above
the stream on the west bank is a plateau, apparently intended for
building sites. The plain in the valley was naturally designed for the
training of mounted in