perilously near our two heads. We laid a grand snare, in the shape of
two mule loading ropes joined together, and stretched across a tempting
patch of the green-pea field, where not a trace of the rope could be
seen, while the men at each end of the rope lounged peacefully and
innocently with reassuring looks upon their faces which we thought would
not prevent the pony being quietly urged into the space between them.
This ruse nearly succeeded. The pony stalked along, grazing as he went,
till his feet were against the rope, at which the men holding it, after
raising it a little, tried to run to the rear and so encircle the pony.
But before they had gone far he was kicking and tugging with his chest
against the rope, and in a moment had wrenched it out of the hands of
one of the men, and the next minute, after a series of derisive
buckjumps, was in the next field munching young wheat.

After fifty minutes of fruitless manoeuvring we decided on a new plan.
Half a mile further on, the road left the open space where we now were,
and, running close to the side of the river, was flanked on the other
side by almost precipitous rocks. The road here, therefore, formed a
perfect defile, and we decided to proceed on our way, ignoring the
Bhutya and trusting to his gregarious instinct and a little wholesome
neglect on our part to induce him to follow us of his own initiative. We
moved off in a body--mules, ponies, and men. The Bhutya, tired of green
peas and young wheat, looked after us and followed us at a gentle trot.
We left my syce in ambush just outside the defile, but this proved
unnecessary; for the pony, now quite anxious about being left behind,
pushed his way in ahead of the last mounted infantryman, so that at last
we had him in a trap. But to catch hold of him, now that he was in the
trap, still taxed our efforts. A mounted infantryman grabbed him once by
the forelock, and nearly got wrenched off his own pony by doing so,
while the Bhutya leapt away, leaving in the man's hand enough of his own
forelock to stuff a good pincushion. My syce had now come up. He was an
elderly man, more intelligent in these matters than any of those
present. He tempted the pony with bits of a tsampa chapatti that he drew
from his pocket. The pony, forgetful of wheat and green peas, took to
these. The syce in an instant had the reins of the bridle round the
pony's neck, and would have held him fast had not he been lifted off his
feet by the