In the cultivated valleys, where barley, buckwheat and mustard grew, there were everywhere evidences of the religious feeling of the Western Bhutanese. Every hill was crowned with a _gompa_ or chapel, _chortens_ and praying-wheels stood beside the road, and _mendongs_ or praying-walls, a mile long, their stones engraved with sacred words, were built near habitations. In the villages the disguised fugitives were well treated. Food and lodging were offered them freely in the cabins as in the great houses of officials and rich folks, where they spent hours watching the skilled artisans among the feudal retainers of their hosts weaving silk, making woollen and cotton garments, brocade and embroideries, or hammering artistic designs on silver or copper plates backed with lac. None suspected the three of being other than they seemed. The Buddhism of Bhutan and Tibet to-day has but one article of faith--"Acquire merit by feeding and paying the lamas and they will win salvation for you." So rich and poor vied in giving their best to the holy wayfarers, and sought not to intrude on the meditations or privacy of lama and _chela_, and welcomed the cheery company of the more worldly lay brother who could crack a joke or empty a mug with any man and pitch the stone quoits or shoot an arrow in the archery contests better than the village champion. Thus, contentedly and free from care, the three fugitives wandered on towards the south where on the frontier they expected their troubles to begin. One day when passing a hamlet by the roadside they tarried to look on at a wedding at which a buxom country maid was being married to a family of six brothers. The village headman performed the simple ceremony, which consisted of offering a bowl of _murwa_ to the gods, then presenting a cupful to the bride and eldest bridegroom, blessing them, and expressing a hope that the union might be a fruitful one. The rest, after the usual presents had been given to the bride's relatives, was simply a matter of feasting everyone. The stranger lamas were invited to join; but Frank refused and dragged away the convivial Tashi, who was anxious to accept the invitation. Wargrave with difficulty led him aside and was so occupied in arguing with his discontented guide that he did not notice that Muriel had not followed. A sudden cry from her and his name shrieked out wildly made him turn in alarm. To his horror he saw the girl struggling in the grasp of a Chinaman, while another on a mule and holding the bridle of a second animal was calling on the villagers in the Penlop's name to assist his comrade. CHAPTER XV A STRANGE RESCUE