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192 ADVENTURES IN TIBET.
At nine o’clock we kindled a fire, and then sat over it
and chatted for a couple of hours. If only we had had a
little warm tea and some bread to eat, or even a glass of
water, it would not have been so bad. When all our fuel
was done we turned in and went to bed. After spreading
the sail on the gravel, though it made it very little softer
than it was before, and sinking the cork life-belt half in
the ground, I lay down, drawing my limbs up into a suitable
attitude, and Kutchuk placed one-half of the boat over
me. My head was only an inch from the bottom of the
boat, and I was packed in as tightly as if I were in my
coffin, an illusion that was still further strengthened when
Kutchuk, using an oar-blade as a spade, began to pack the
sand and gravel all round me to keep out the draughts.
My night-quarters were actually as confined and as dark
as a grave. When he had done, Kutchuk packed himself
away in the other half of the boat in a similar manner.
Then we lay and talked for an hour or so, but my boatman’s
voice sounded like a voice from the dead, and my own
echoed hollow and sepulchral. About midnight the rain
began to pelt down, rattling like drum-sticks against the
taut canvas of the boat-bottom. But what did it matter
to us, we were under cover, and warm and dry. Al-
though we were as hungry as wolves, natural weariness
eventually asserted its right, and we dropped off to sleep,
oblivious of the wild beasts of the wilderness and every-
thing else.
As the night went on it turned very much colder ;
indeed, the cold woke me up more than once. At length
daylight crept in under one of the bulwarks, and I called
to Kutchuk to come and let me out. We were stiff with
cold, and our first concern was to gather fuel for a fire.
The next thing was to go in search of our lost caravan.
Having screwed the boat together again, we fitted her
up, launched her, and stepped on board, and then hoisted
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