A SUMMER IN HIGH ASIA. 



Lama village, the most noticeable feature being, as 

 usual, a gonpa perched on the summit of a detached, 

 and apparently inaccessible, spur of rock. Not far 

 from the foot of this pinnacle is a colossal and much 

 revered image of Chamba, carved out of the face 

 of a huge monolith, which is standing in the valley 

 near the road. At Moulbekh I found old Munshi 

 Palgez, who had accompanied Captain Godfrey as 

 far as the frontier of his (the Munshi's) dominions, and 

 was now on his homeward journey. The good (but 

 somewhat dirty) old man came to pay me a visit in 

 my tent, and though our conversation was of 

 necessity somewhat limited, as I could not under- 

 stand very much of his rapidly spoken Punjabi, he 

 evinced great commiseration for my wounded leg (I 

 had been almost disabled by a bad kick from a pony 

 a couple of days previously), and sat stroking it for 

 a long time, assuring me that by so doing he could 

 make it much better. The result on the following 

 day was not quite as noticeable as he had promised 

 me that it would be ; but the intention was kind. 



The next day I passed Shergol with its rock- 

 cut monastery, on the other side of the stream, 

 and a feeling of sadness mingled with the plea : 

 sant anticipations of a return to civilization, as 

 I thought that this was the last Gonpa, and 

 almost the last heap of Mani stones that I should 

 see, and that we were in reality leaving the 

 quaint and mysterious region of Ladakh arid 

 its Lamas, where we had spent so pleasant a 



243 R 2 



