A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



you turn a corner and come on a strange and 

 unlooked-for spectacle. In a small amphitheatre, 

 surrounded by very precipitous rocks that run up 

 to the snows, is a patch of cultivation and a con- 

 siderable grove of trees. Above these, and built 

 on, or rather into, the side of the hill, is the 

 Monastery, 'a large, rambling building with many 

 courtyards and balconied windows, a line round the 

 top being, as usual, painted red, and the roof itself 

 ornamented with yaks' tails on poles, 

 strings of coloured flags, and also, here, 

 with some umbrella-like erections, 

 whether for ornament or use I was 

 unable to discover. Clustered outside 

 the walls of the Gonpa is a small 

 village, and the surrounding points of 

 rock are crowned with Churtens and 

 tombs. When we arrived, the Lamas 

 were at work in the fields, singing the 

 YOUNG BUDDHIST quaint Ladakhi song. 



We pitched our camp in the midst of 

 the grove, and after luncheon proceeded to view the 

 monastery. We first ascended through a garden 

 with many flowers, chiefly asters, poppies, mangolds, 

 &c., in bloom, and passing by some quaint old paint- 

 ings on the walls, entered a courtyard. Here we 

 were greeted by the ferocious-looking dogs that are 

 always chained up in a Thibetan monastery. We 

 were conducted by an unusually dirty Lama in 



clothes of a dull red colour, and with a shaven 



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