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ON THE WAY TO THE ARKA-TAGH. 301
watched by arkhari (wild sheep), but, fortunately for them,
they were out of range.
One more day’s march, and we emerged from this fan-
tastic border-range, and once more found ourselves upon
the lofty plateau of Northern Tibet. Our arrival was
greeted by heavy, black clouds, which every now and again
shook out their contents—rain and snow—over us—the sort
of weather we had had more than a taste of the summer
before.
In his fiery red robe, his yellow girdle and his blue cap,
over which in rainy weather he used to draw a skin bashlik
(hood), Shereb Lama was like the good-natured brownie of
our caravan. The only people with whom he was able to
talk (Mongohan) were Shagdur and myself, though he
gradually learned to speak Turki. During our long rides he
used to be very meditative. No doubt he was wondering
what strange company this was his destiny had made him
acquainted with. I had no end of difficulty to make him
understand the object of my astronomical and topographical
observations. In his eyes I was, I am sure, a very extra-
ordinary sort of person, and yet he attached himself to me
with a confidence and devotion that were quite touching.
He understood perfectly well that we foreigners enter-
tained none but friendly feelings towards him. I have
seldom had a more zealous and insistent teacher than he
was ; he was determined that I should learn his mother
tongue, so that we might be able to discuss freely the sub-
jects which especially interested him.
One day when we were forced to mark time beside the
Upper Charkhlik-su because of the bad weather, I took the
opportunity to make the Lama acquainted with my plans.
Whatever their ultimate issue, I did not wish him to beheve
or suppose that I had by deceit tricked him into any mad
sort of enterprise. I thought it better to tell him frankly
what I proposed to do, so that he might, if he chose, return
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