ACROSS THE CHINO-THIBETAN BORDERLAND 187 



Several roads radiate from this centre ; one of these leads 

 from the official town to Mupin, over the pass of Chia-chin shan, 

 which was said to be higher than that of the Pan-Ian shan and 

 surrounded by snow-clad peaks. 



The Wokje state preserved its prosperous appearance to the 

 end, and is evidently a thriving, happy little country. The 

 people strongly resemble the Wassu folk, though possibly 

 they are scarcely as tall and have slightly sharper features. 

 The Chinese language is understood and in common use along 

 the main road, where the people imitate the Chinese in shaving 

 their heads and wearing a queue. Lamaism evidently has a 

 strong hold on these people, judging by the number of lama- 

 series we saw. 



I had intended remaining a day at Monkong Ting, but owing 

 to the crowded condition of the town decided to defer this 

 holiday until we reached Romi Chango. The inn in which 

 rooms were provided for us was crowded with persons who 

 were noisy over their cups and business dealings far into the 

 night, rendering sleep well-nigh an impossibility. 



Just outside Hsin-kai-tsze the road crosses over by a log 

 bridge to the right bank of the stream. This bridge was 

 being repaired, and only two very uneven logs were in position. 

 A thin rope was stretched across to serve as a hand-rail on 

 the left side. Crossing was really dangerous, the waters 

 below being deep and turbulent. The official kindly provided 

 local experts to carry our gear over, and the way these men 

 accomplished the task filled me with admiration. I rewarded 

 them with 1000 cash, to their astonished delight. My dog 

 was lashed firmly to a flat board and carried across on a man's 

 back. He struggled violently, and the man only just managed 

 to get him over before he got half loose. I walked over behind 

 the dog and was relieved when the 30 yards across the yawning 

 gulf were safely passed. Everything came over all right, but 

 my followers clung to the local men like grim death, the 

 majority shaking in their nervous fright. Such dangerous 

 experiences are not desirable, and I heartily hoped that we 

 had no more such bridges to cross. From this bridge we 

 descended 60 li to the hamlet of Sheng-ko-chung, alt, 

 7600 feet, through arid country and over a bad road. The 



