like a channel of ice running
along the edge of a vertical precipice. We have several Kirghizes with
us to give assistance. One of them leads the first horse, which carries
two large sacks of straw with my tent bed between them. The horse is
shod and can keep his feet on ice, but at one place the path slopes to
the edge. The horse stumbles, tries in vain to recover his foothold,
rolls over the edge, falls into the chasm, and breaks his back on the
bank of the river. The straw is scattered among the stones, my bed
dances along the stream, and all the men rush down to save what they
can.

Now steps are cut in the ice and the path is strewn with sand. The
higher we go the worse the travelling. A Kirghiz leads each horse by the
bridle, while another holds on to his tail to help him if he stumbles.
To ride is impossible; we crawl along on hands and feet. Darkness
follows twilight; the rushing water of the stream gives forth a sound of
metallic clearness. We have been travelling more than twelve hours when
at last the valley opens, and we see blazing camp fires in front of
Kirghiz tents.

We mount higher day after day. We cross a pass, and at this giddy height
I experience the unpleasant feelings of mountain sickness--splitting
headache, nausea, and singing in the ears. On the further side one of
the affluents of the Amu-darya flows westwards. This valley, the Alai,
is broad and open, but full of snow in winter. We make our entry into
the Alai valley in a howling snowstorm and wade and plunge through
drifts. Two Kirghizes go in front with sticks to mark out the way, in
order that the horses may not sink in the snow. Our little caravan moves
slowly and painfully. One day the snow is so deep that we have to hire
four camels, which are led in front of the caravan to tramp out a
narrow path for the horses. Everything is white, sky and earth run into
one another, and there is nothing black to be seen but the men, camels,
and horses.

At every camp we find excellent felt tents set up in readiness for us.
Once we had only a short distance to go before reaching camp when we
were stopped by a trench filled with snow ten feet deep. The first horse
disappeared in a moment as though he had fallen through a trap-door. His
load was taken off, and he was pulled up with ropes. Then the Kirghizes
thought of a grand way of getting over the treacherous snow. They took
the felt covers of the tent and spread them over the snow and led the
ho