We saw plainly at sunset a number of black tents before us. We counted about sixty, and we calculated them to be two miles distant. Near them were hundreds of black yaks. At sunrise the next morning, much to our surprise, the tents and yaks had vanished; nor, on marching in the direction where we had seen them the previous night, were we able to find traces of them. It must have been an effect of mirage. Some fourteen miles away, in a grassy plain at the foot of the range extending from north-west to south-east, and with lofty snowy peaks in a direction of 72 deg. (bearings magnetic), we came upon a very large Tibetan encampment of over eighty black tents. We were then at an elevation of 15,650 feet. The tents were pitched on the banks of another tributary of the Brahmaputra, which, after describing a wide curve in the plain, passed west of the encampment. To the north-west, north, and north-east stood the chain of mountains which I had observed all along. The elevation of its peaks became gradually lower and lower, so much so that the name of "hill range" would be more appropriate to it than that of "mountain chain," that is to say, if the elevation of the plateau on which it stood were not taken into account. Behind it, however, towered loftier peaks with snowy caps. We needed food, and so made boldly for the encampment. Our approach caused a commotion. Yaks and sheep were hastily driven away before us, while men and women rushed in and out of their tents, apparently in a state of great excitement. Eight or ten men reluctantly came forward, and entreated us to go inside a large tent. They said they wished to speak to us, and offered us tea. I would not accept their invitation, distrusting them, but went on across the encampment, halting some three hundred yards beyond. Chanden Sing and I proceeded afterward on a round of calls at all the tents, trying to purchase food, and also to show that, if we had declined to enter a particular tent, it was not on account of fear, but because we did not want to be caught in a trap. Our visit to the different _golingchos_ or _gurr_ (tents) was interesting enough. The tents themselves were cleverly constructed, and admirably adapted to the country in which they were used. The tents, black in color, were woven of yaks' hair, the natural greasiness of which made the cloth quite waterproof. They consisted of two separate pieces of thick material, supported by two poles at each end. There was an oblong aperture above in the upper part of the tent, through which the smoke escaped. The base of the larger tents was six-sided. The roof, at a height of six or seven feet above the ground, was kept tightly stretched by means of long ropes passing over high forked poles and the ends of which were pegged to the ground. Many wooden and iron pegs were required to keep the bottom of the tent close to the ground all round, so as to protect its inmates from the cutting winds of the great plateau. Outside