332 A JOYLESS SOLITUDE. 



and fell appeared stretching away beyond. About a mile 

 from and considerably below us lay the Mirpa tso, an irregu- 

 lar-shaped sheet of dark, sullen-looking water, some four or 

 five miles in circumference. Eising almost from its margin 

 on every side were brown-coloured, rounded, and sterile hills, 

 with nothing to break the dreary monotony of their appear- 

 ance save a few patches of snow that lay near the top of some 

 of their long stony slopes, and in one or two of the deeper 

 hollows of the gullies that ran down between them. The 

 scanty tufts of herbage that existed on the sides of this huge 

 natural water-basin, as it were, were rendered almost invisible 

 by distance, except in a few low and more level spots, where 

 the moisture, derived either from springs or from trickling 

 streamlets, had given the scraps of turf there a most vivid 

 green, which was quite a relief for the eye to rest on. 



After a short time spent in contemplating this joyless soli- 

 tude, we descended to the shore of the lake. Not a breath of 

 the usual wind was then stirring to ruffle its placid surface, 

 which resembled a sheet of polished steel. The dull grey light 

 of a cloudy day, and the solemn silence that reigned supreme, 

 combined with the bleak and dismal aspect of the surrounding 

 hills, were such as to induce a feeling of utter loneliness 

 which was almost irksome. The men with me stretched 

 themselves out on the dry white sand that bordered the lake, 

 and were soon fast asleep. Even the pony seemed to feel the 

 depressing influence of the profound stillness, as he stood 

 listlessly there with drooping head and closed eyes. The only 

 signs of life or motion to be seen were exhibited by the dogs 

 as they tugged and gnawed at some dry bits of skin that 

 partially covered the sun-bleached bones of a dead animal 

 that lay close to the water's edge. If from this inadequate 

 sketch the reader can picture it to himself, such was the 

 ground in which I hoped to find the objects of my present 

 search. 



I was not sorry when my meditations, which under the 



