After forty-four days' march due southwards we came to a part of the country where footprints of men were seen in several places, and Lhasa was only 300 miles away. Up to this time all Europeans who had tried to reach the holy city had been forced by Tibetan horsemen to turn back. The Tibetans are at bottom a good-tempered, decent people, but they will not allow any European to enter their country. They have heard that India and Central Asia have been conquered by white men, and fear that the same fate may befall Tibet. Two hundred years ago, indeed, Catholic missionaries lived in Lhasa, and the town was visited in 1845 by the famous priests Huc and Gabet from France. Since then two Europeans who had made the attempt to reach the place had been murdered, and others had to turn back without success. Now it was my turn to try my luck. My plan was to travel in disguise with only two followers. One was the Mongolian Lama, the other the Buriat Cossack, Shagdur. The Buriats are of Mongol race, speak Mongolian, and are Lamaists. They have narrow, rather oblique eyes, prominent cheek-bones, and thick lips. The dress of both peoples is the same--a skin coat with long sleeves and a waistbelt, a cap, and a pair of boots with turned-up toes. My costume was of exactly the same kind, and everything we took with us--tent, boxes, cooking utensils, and provisions--was of Mongolian style and make. The European articles I required--instruments, writing materials, and a field-glass--were carefully packed in a box. For defence we had two Russian rifles and a Swedish revolver. Of the caravan animals, five mules and four horses, as well as two dogs, Tiger and Lilliput, were to go with us. I rode a handsome white horse, Shagdur a tall yellow horse, and the Lama a small greyish-yellow mule. The baggage animals were led by my men and I rode behind. During the first two days we had a Mohammedan with us, Oerdek, but he was to go back to headquarters, where all the rest of the caravan were ordered to await our return. We were to ride south-eastwards and endeavour to strike the great Mongolian pilgrim route to Lhasa. Many Mongolians betake themselves annually in large armed caravans to the holy city to pay homage to the Dalai Lama, and obtain a blessing from him and the Tashi Lama. Perhaps it was wrong of me to give myself out for a Lamaist pilgrim, but there seemed no other means of getting to the forbidden city. We left the main camp on July 27, and those we left behind did not expect ever to see us again. The first day we did not see a living thing, and the second day we rode twenty-five miles farther without hindrance. Our camp that day was situated on open ground beside two lakes, and to the south-east stood some small hills, in the neighbourhood of which our animals grazed. Oerdek was to watch them during the night in order that we might have a good sleep, for when he left us we should have to guard them ourselves.