ssed through one or two hamlets set in a small
alluvial fan such as is often seen in Western Tibet, only there the fan
ended with a steep precipice two or three hundred feet above the river,
while here it sloped gently down to the water's edge.

Occasionally we saw across the Ta Tu on the left bank a village
unmistakably Tibetan: no trees; grey, flat-roofed, fortress-like houses,
often reached only by a ladder; with few signs of life to be seen even
with a glass, there was a forbidding aspect to these places in marked
contrast to the bustle of a Chinese village.

We were now skirting the lower slopes of the Ta Shueh Shan, or "Great
Snow Mountains," the outposts of the Tibetan plateau, but we were too
hemmed in to catch a glimpse of the higher ranges, save once, when a
break in the mountain wall afforded a brief, magnificent view of the
snowy peaks towering more than fifteen thousand feet above our heads.
Then another turn in the road shut us in again between grey cliff and
grey river and grey sky. Toward the end of the day a sharp bend to the
left took us away from the Ta Tu into the wild gorge through which
flows the Tarchendo, and with a rough scramble we dropped down into the
pretty little village of Wa Ssu Kou, the "Ravine of the Tile Roof
Monastery." At the extreme western end of the one long street we found
comfortable quarters in a new, clean inn. Like so many of these villages
of wood with shingled roofs, Wa Ssu Kou seems to burn down once in so
often, which has at least the advantage that there is less chance for
dirt to accumulate.

Strolling out from the inn after a wash, I found myself in the fine
gardens that border the river, separated from the water, here level with
the bank, only by a narrow strip of shingle. Men and women were hard at
work even after nightfall. Each plant is brought up by hand, as it were,
and there is no waste of fertilizer; by spoonfuls the precious stuff is
applied to each root instead of being scattered over the ground. Just
across the river towered a precipitous cliff two thousand feet high,
quite overshadowing the village, which looked very small and helpless by
contrast. Up the face of the cliff zigzagged a steep trail, finally
disappearing over the top, and I looked longingly after it, for on this
side the river direct Chinese government ends. The other bank is the
country of the tribesmen, people of Mantzu stock living under the rule
of their tribal chiefs. Northwards from Wa