Mule-loading is an awkward business, requiring at least two men. First the creature has to be brought alongside his load, which is two packages of equal weight, one to be suspended each side of him. These are already roped together, and to load, the two halves are lifted together to the top of the pack-saddle--about five feet six high. Then one of the men must run round to the other side, take the off half, pull it down and work it this way and that till it exactly balances its fellow on the opposite side. Then if there be a passenger, his bedding is thrown on top and a long girth thrown over and round all. This is quickly enough done under two conditions--first, that the mule be near his burden when the time comes for loading; and second, that he can be induced to stand while the packages are being lifted up and placed against the saddle. At this moment he has a habit of sidling away, and the load falls to the ground. Needless to say, after loading some sixteen mules, as we did twice a day, at express speed, a rest is very welcome, but one often has to walk a few miles over stony ground, urging the beasts when they lag, and the steep hill-sides frequently force everyone to dismount. Out of the valley of the stream we came to a higher one between two long ridges of hills, and for three hours made our way northwards along it till we came to a village of the Shuan, prettily situated by a stream and several clumps of willows, and threw our loads upon the beaten ground round about. The first proceeding when arranging for the night, is to arrange the loads in a kind of wall, and behind these one spreads felts and coats. Meanwhile the mules are led off to water, brought back, and the pack-saddles removed. The muleteers then clean the animals more or less with a rattling tin currycomb, replace the saddles, which act as blankets, and, tethering the beasts to a long line upon the ground, give them their barley.