cable to dislodge it.

On leaving the station of Bathang, we were obliged to turn for some
distance, quite northwards, in order to resume an eastern direction; for
since our departure from Tsiamdo, we had continually progressed towards
the south during twenty consecutive days. The caravans are compelled to
lengthen this route considerably, in order to reach a secure passage
across the great river Kin-Cha-Kiang.

Our first day's march from Bathang was full of charms, for we travelled,
in a delightful temperature, through a country of an infinite variety of
landscape. The narrow path we followed was throughout bordered with
willows and apricot trees in flower. Next day, however, we again found
ourselves amid all the horrors and dangers of our old route. We had to
ascend a very high mountain, upon which we were mercilessly assailed by
the snow and the north wind. It was a complete reaction against the
Sybaritism we had enjoyed in the warm and flowery plain of Bathang. At
the foot of the mountain, the snow was succeeded by torrents of cold
rain, which seemed to filter through into the very marrow of our bones.
As a climax of misfortune, we were obliged to pass the night in a
habitation, the roof of which, cracked in several places, gave free
passage to the wind and rain. We were, however, so exhausted with
fatigue that this did not prevent our sleeping. The next day we awoke in
the mire; we found our bedclothes entirely soaked, and our limbs stiff
with cold. We were obliged to rub ourselves violently with pieces of
ice, in order to restore circulation to the blood. The abominable
village, which afforded us this horrible lodging, bears the name of
Ta-So. On emerging from the valley of Ta-So, you ascend, by a narrow
gorge, an elevated plain, which we found covered with snow. Here, we
entered a magnificent forest, the finest we had seen in the mountains of
Thibet. The pines, cedars, and hollies entwined their vigorous branches,
and formed a dome of verdure impenetrable to the sun, and under which
there is much better protection from the rain and snow than in the houses
of Ta-So. The trunks and branches of these large trees are covered with
thick moss, which extends in long and extremely delicate filaments. When
this stringy moss is new, it is of a beautiful green hue; but when it is
old, it is black, and bears an exact resemblance to long tufts of dirty
and ill-combed hair. There is nothing more grotesque or fa