eyes of the Shebdung Lama. However, we came no
nearer to it. Our course turned off to the left here, and
we soon passed through the little green-clad village of
Chusul. Here the Ta Lama awaited the arrival of
Colonel Younghusband, who, with ever-ready patience,
granted him another, but, of course, a fruitless interview.
Chusul is dominated by two peaks on which the
ruins of two strong forts may be still seen. In a cavern
of the mountain-side beyond the inner peak it is said
that the Tibetans condemned to death were walled
in until such time as the scorpions which infest the spot
had done their deadly work. This is probably wholly
untrue, though we did, indeed, notice scorpions more
than once in this part of our route. Thence we moved
on up the valley of the Kyi chu, leaving behind us the
Tsang-po sliding heavily to the south towards the
defile where its waters vanished from our sight. The
point of land which runs out between the two rivers
was explored by Mr. Magniac, and found to be an impassable
morass. The road keeps on at the foot of the
hills, but before these are reached a wide plain is crossed
through which a deeply-cut canal carries off the snow
waters from the mountains on the left. A monastery
stands near the mouth of a dry and unfertile valley. At
Tashi-tse, a mile or two short of Tse-pe-nang, we halted
for the night, just underneath a detached fort-crowned
pinnacle of rock thrust out from the mountain side.
The ground swarmed with little black beetles, spotted
with white and red like a Tibetan domino. On the
1st of August, the eight-miles-long line set out betimes
for the last stretch of the journey which was to be still
uncheered by the sight of Potala’s golden roofs ; the
V O L . I I . 10^