But we are only beginners, for you, holy Ones, know how star-high, how ocean-wide and how desert-long is that path.

Indeed it is to be instructed as to the right way of walking therein that we have been miraculously directed by a dream to seek you out, as the most pious, the most saintly and the most learned of all the Lamas in these parts." "Yes, certainly we are that," answered the abbot Kou-en, "seeing that there is no other monastery within five months' journey," and again he chuckled, "though, alas!" he added with a pathetic little sigh, "our numbers grow few." After this we asked leave to retire to our chamber in order to rest, and there, upon very good imitations of beds, we slept solidly for four and twenty hours, rising at last perfectly refreshed and well.
Such was our introduction to the Monastery of the Mountains--for it had no other name--where we were destined to spend the next six months of our lives.

Within a few days--for they were not long in giving us their complete confidence--those good-hearted and simple old monks told us all their history.
It seemed that of old time there was a Lamasery here, in which dwelt several hundred brethren.

This, indeed, was obviously true, for the place was enormous, although for the most part ruined, and, as the weather-worn statue of Buddha showed, very ancient.

The story ran, according to the old abbot, that two centuries or so before, the monks had been killed out by some fierce tribe who lived beyond the desert and across the distant mountains, which tribe were heretics and worshippers of fire.