Later on we entered into a friendly conversation, in the course of which he said he was a Rupun (a rank below a general). I tried to explain to him all about English soldiers and weapons. He displayed the keenest interest in all I told him. In return he gave me interesting information about the soldiers of Tibet. Every man in Tibet is considered a soldier in time of war or when required to do duty. For the regular army all lads strong and healthy can enlist from the age of seventeen. Good horsemanship is one of the qualities most appreciated in the Tibetan soldier, and, after that, unbounded obedience. The Rupun swore by Tibetan matchlocks, which he believed to be the most serviceable weapons on earth. According to him, as long as you had powder enough, you could use anything as a projectile. Pebbles, earth, or nails did as good work as any lead bullet. He told me that large quantities of these weapons were manufactured at Lhassa and Sigatz (_Shigatze_). The majority of Tibetan men outside the towns possessed matchlocks. Gunpowder was made in the country with saltpetre and sulphur. The Rupun, seeing how quick I was at picking up Tibetan words, took a special delight in teaching me, as one would a child, the names of the several grades in the Tibetan army. The _Tchu-pun_ was the lowest grade, and only had ten men under him; then came the _Kiatsamba-pun_ or _Kia-pun_, or officer in command of one hundred soldiers; and the _Tung-pun_, or head of one thousand. These officers, however, were seldom allowed the full number of soldiers. Often the "commander of one thousand" had only under him three or four hundred men at the most. Above the _Tung-pun_ came the _Rupun_, a kind of adjutant-general; then the _Dah-pun_, or great officer; and highest of all, the _Mag-pun_ (or _Magbun_, as it is usually pronounced), the general-in-chief. The acquaintance of one of these generals I had already made at Gyanema. Though my informant said that officers were elected for their bravery in war and for their strength and aptitude in the saddle and with their weapons, I knew well enough that such was not the case. The posts were mainly given to whoever could afford to pay for them, among men of families under special protection of the Lamas. In many cases they were actually sold by auction. The Rupun had a keen sense of humor. I told him how fast the Tibetan soldiers had run away on previous occasions when I had met them and had my rifle with me. He was quite equal to the situation, and exclaimed: "Yes, I know that they ran, but it was not through fear. It was because they did not wish to hurt you." Upon which I answered that, if that were the case, they need not have run so fast. The Rupun was amused, and laughed at my sarcasm. He patted me on the back, and said I was right. He professed to be grieved to see me tied up. He had received strict orders not to give me food or unloose my bonds.