n and
desolate mountains; this district does not exhibit the least signs of
cultivation, so that the people have to get their flour from Tsing-Kou.
The inhabitants are nearly all shepherds; they breed sheep, oxen, and,
especially, goats, the fine silky hair of which is used in the fabric of
poulou of the first quality, and of those beautiful manufactures, so well
known by the name of Cashmere shawls. The Thibetians of Lha-Ri are much
less advanced in civilization than those of Lha-Ssa; their physiognomy is
hard and rugged; they are dirty in their clothing; their houses are
merely large, shapeless hovels, made of rough stone, and rudely plastered
with lime. You remark, however, on the side of the mountain, a little
above the village, a vast Buddhic monastery, the temple of which is fine
enough. A Kampo is the superior of this Lamasery, and, at the same time,
temporal administrator of the district. The numerous Lamas of Lha-Ri
lead an idle, miserable life; we saw them, at all hours of the day,
squatting in the different quarters of the town, trying to warm, in the
rays of the sun, their limbs, half covered with a few red and yellow
rags,--it was a disgusting sight.

At Lha-Ri, the Chinese government maintains a magazine of provisions,
under the management of a learned Mandarin, bearing the title of
Leang-Tai (purveyor), and decorated with the button of white crystal.
The Leang-Tai has to pay the various garrisons quartered on his line of
road. There are, between Lha-Ssa and the frontiers of China, six of
these provision magazines. The first and most important, is at Lha-Ssa;
the Leang-Tai of which town superintends the five others, and receives an
annual salary of seventy ounces of silver, whereas his colleagues have
only sixty. The maintenance of the provisional magazine at Lha-Ssa costs
the Chinese government 40,000 ounces of silver per annum; while that at
Lha-Ri costs only 8,000 ounces. The garrison of the latter town consists
of 130 soldiers, having at their head a Tsien-Tsoung, a Pa-Tsoung, and a
Wei-Wei.

The day after our arrival at Lha-Ri, the Leang-Tai, or purveyor, instead
of coming to pay an official visit to the staff of the caravan, contented
himself with sending us, by way of card, a leaf of red paper on which
were inscribed the letters of his name; he added, by the mouth of his
messenger, that a severe illness confined him to his room. Ly-Kouo-Ngan
said to us, in a whisper, and with a sly laugh,