I certainly did not want to begin a political quarrel with them and so turned back to our companions.
Riding down the slope toward our camp, I waited momentarily for a shot in the back but the Tibetan hunghutze did not shoot.
We moved forward, leaving among the stones the bodies of two of our companions as sad tribute to the difficulties and dangers of our journey.

We rode all night, with our exhausted horses constantly stopping and some lying down under us, but we forced them ever onward.
At last, when the sun was at its zenith, we finally halted.

Without unsaddling our horses, we gave them an opportunity to lie down for a little rest.

Before us lay a broad, swampy plain, where was evidently the sources of the river Ma-chu.

Not far beyond lay the Lake of Aroung Nor.