176 A THIBETAN INTERLUDE 



one of the boys who was riding George's little 

 white pony met with a similar mishap, and rejoined 

 us looking as if the old gentleman in " Struwwel- 

 peter " had dipped him into his inkpot ! On the 

 owner's forcible remonstrances, he sat on a stone 

 and burst into floods of tears ! 



Among some thornbushes we came on a large 

 covey of hill-partridges, very much like the little 

 brown bird at home, and killed two or three brace. 

 I do not think they can ever have had a shot fired 

 at them before, as they refused to rise, and with 

 more cartridges we could have bagged the lot. 



Reaching the crest of the hill, we found ourselves 

 on a high, rolling plateau, bounded to the north 

 and west by hills, looking very much like an 

 American prairie. It was ideal antelope country, 

 pastured by herds of half-bred yaks, ponies, and 

 big flocks of sheep with curiously twisted horns, 

 growing at right angles from the skull. These are 

 the property of the nomad Thibetans or Abrogba 

 (Drocwa). 



Snow falls on these high plateaux in September 

 and does not melt until May; June, July, and 

 August are the only really clear months. 



The afternoon drew on, we still passed flocks 

 and herds, and towards evening found ourselves 

 among low, stony knolls, and small, grassy valleys. 

 It was dark when we stumbled out of these, and 

 heard the distant barking of dogs. A small 

 wooden bridge led us to an indistinct cluster of 

 houses, and the only inn of Meiwu received us for 

 the night. It was not a palatial hostelry, and one 

 low-roofed, mud-walled room sheltered our three 

 selves and the five boys. 



