Two days later Lipthay left for Thaï-Nguyen with Lieutenant Deleuze. I saw this smart intelligence officer. He was a small, brown-faced, wiry man, whose most remarkable trait was the quiet, low toned voice in which he spoke to those under him. The men told wild tales concerning his wonderful knowledge of the language and customs of the natives, whereby, it was said, he had on several occasions been able to adopt a disguise, and accompany some of the native spies on their expeditions. Whether this was exact or not I should not like to declare, but it is certain that this officer possessed a wonderful knowledge of the vernacular, and was a topographical expert of no small merit. I had hardly time to settle down in my old quarters again, for a week after my arrival my section was sent off to Bo-Ha to strengthen the garrison in that part, which at the time consisted of a company of native troops under the orders of Captain Perrin. One night, shortly after our arrival there--it was the 16th January, 1892--the section was suddenly called out, orders being given for each man to take with him a flannel suit, rolled up in his waterproof blanket--which was slung across the chest--and provisions for two days. We soon learned that a long night's march lay before us; for a wire had been received from the Brigade, to the effect that a portion of Ba-Ky's band was marching on Cho-Trang with the intention of rushing that outpost, and our orders were to get there as soon as possible by the nearest way. A guide was supplied by the headman of Dao-Quan, who led us away by a track slanting off to the north-east of Bo-Ha, across a wild, uncultivated region, hitherto little explored, and generally considered impracticable. We started off at eleven, and it was easy walking for the first mile or so, but once we had left behind us the cultivated district surrounding our fort, the path went from bad to worse. We passed for several miles over a plain covered with jungle, after which the track went into the hills, and, though we kept up the pace, it was terrible work as we went now up, now down, then splashing through the icy cold water of the little streams coursing down each valley. Though the night was fairly clear it was dark, and difficult to see ahead in the gullies and dips, and we had to trust to luck sometimes when putting our foot forward. We reached Cho-Phang, a Muong village, at a quarter past three in the morning, and a pedometer which I carried registered 18-1/2 miles. We had now gained the rocky chain of the Nui-Dong-Nai, and thence the path ran along at the foot of these heights. We rested a quarter of an hour, and then continued our hurried tramp till we reached the Deo-Mou-Phieu pass, concerning which I have already written when describing my first journey to Cho-Trang. We passed through the cleft, going due north, and reached our destination at a few minutes past seven.