As we turned our backs upon the country we left winter behind us, and descending the Chumbi Valley once more found ourselves in autumnal surroundings. The Himalayan larch were all of a beautiful golden colour; the birch were all turning brown, and the berberis were a brilliant scarlet. Red currants and the scarlet haws of the rose were still on the bushes. The currants were no longer sour to eat raw, and we picked many of them on the way down. Our pockets, too, were filled with seeds of rhododendrons and other flowers. On the way I was met by the native officer commanding the garrison at Yatung, which was now found by the 90th Punjabis. As I passed their quarters, the guard turned out, presenting arms very smartly, and all the detachment came out and saluted. They were certainly a very well-trained detachment. Once more the Macdonald family most kindly sent over a generous meal, besides presents of every sort and kind of European vegetable. From Yatung we obtained forty-five mules for our transport. These came along very much faster than the yaks and the donkeys that we had been using. Here Gyalzen Kazi, one of our interpreters, left us to return to his home at Gangtok. I was very sorry to lose him. He had been a pleasant companion and had been of great assistance to the Expedition. He was always most willing to undertake any difficult or unpleasant job there might be, and I never heard a murmur or grumble from him of any kind during the whole time that he was with us. Our march was only a short one of 11 miles to Langra, where there was a Tibetan rest-house built in the Chinese style and rather reminding me of our rest-house at Tingri. It was a most perfect autumnal day, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The woods everywhere were very beautiful, the dark silver fir trees showing up the scarlet and yellow of the bushes and the gold of the larch. Our cook, Acchu, was drunk again, but Poo prepared us a good meal instead. The next morning, to our surprise, on looking out we found a couple of inches of fresh snow on the ground and the snow was still falling steadily. The mules, nevertheless, were all loaded up in good time, and I followed on foot to the top of the Jelep Pass, snow falling steadily all the way--a fine granular snow. At the top of the pass the wind was blowing keenly, driving the snow into our faces. Besides the 6 inches of fresh snow here, there was a good deal of the old snow that had fallen a week or more ago, and in some places formed drifts several feet deep. It is seldom that a clear view is ever obtained on the Jelep Pass. It rained when we came over in May and it snowed now, and twice before, when I have crossed it, it rained all the time. Snow fell all the way down to Gnatong, where there were already a couple of inches of slush. The next morning was luckily fine, as we were to do a long march to Rongli--a distance of only 18 miles, but with a descent of 9,500 feet.