ter is not
far off." Following with our eyes the direction of his finger, we
perceived in a lateral valley a man driving a large flock of sheep. We
immediately turned aside, and hastened after the man. The rain which now
began to fall in torrents redoubled our celerity. To aggravate our
distress, the lading of one of the camels just at this moment became
loose, and slipped right round towards the ground, and we had to wait
while the camel knelt, and Samdadchiemba readjusted the baggage on its
back. We were, consequently, thoroughly wet through before we reached a
small lake, now agitated and swollen by the falling torrent. There was
no occasion for deliberating that evening as to the particular site on
which we should set up our tent; selection was out of the question, when
the ground all about was deeply saturated with the rain.

The violence of the rain itself mitigated; but the wind absolutely raged.
We had infinite trouble to unroll our miserable tents, heavy and
impracticable with wet, like a large sheet just taken from the
washing-tub. The difficulty seemed insuperable when we attempted to
stretch it upon its poles, and we should never have succeeded at all, but
for the extraordinary muscular power with which Samdadchiemba was
endowed. At length we effected a shelter from the wind, and from a small
cold rain with which it was accompanied. When our lodging was
established, Samdadchiemba addressed us in these consolatory words:--"My
spiritual fathers, I told you we should not die to-day of thirst; but I
am not at all sure that we don't run some risk of dying of hunger." In
point of fact, there seemed no possibility of making a fire. There was
not a tree, not a shrub, not a root to be seen. As to argols, they were
out of the question; the rain had long since reduced that combustible of
the desert to a liquid pulp.

We had formed our resolution, and were on the point of making a supper of
meal steeped in a little cold water, when we saw approaching us two
Tartars, leading a small camel. After the usual salutations, one of them
said: "Sirs Lamas, this day the heavens have fallen; you, doubtless, have
been unable to make a fire." "Alas! how should we make a fire, when we
have no argols?" "Men are all brothers, and belong each to the other.
But laymen should honour and serve the holy ones; therefore it is that we
have come to make a fire for you." The worthy Tartars had seen us
setting up our tent, and c