Autumn had already come to Kharta. The willows and the poplars under which we were camped were fast shedding their leaves, which rustled on the ground, or blew into our tents, a warning that winter was not far off. Even here there were one or two degrees of frost every night. The days, however, were still warm and sunny. The next five days were fully occupied with strenuous work. Wheeler and I took alternate mornings and afternoons in the dark room. We had each taken a large number of photographs during the past month. These had to be developed before we started on our return journey to Darjeeling, and this would be our last opportunity. An account of our last month's doings and our final reconnaissance had to be written out for _The Times_, and this, together with many other letters, had to be sent off to Phari as soon as possible. Our stores, tents, Alpine equipment, had all to be collected and sorted out. Lists had to be made of all of them, and most of them had to be re-packed. The coolies were perpetually worrying us for money and advances of pay in order that they might be able to buy Tibetan clothing, or have money which they could spend on drink at Kharta, where it was apparently very cheap. Our cook and most of the coolies used constantly to return to camp in the evening blind drunk, and I had to see that the cook was never allowed near the kitchen under these conditions. On such an occasion my servant, Poo, would have to do the cooking in his place. The chang, or barley beer, that they got must have been a much stronger brew than what was given to us, as what we had did not appear intoxicating at all, but the interpreters told us that coolie beer was double strength.