These four unfortunate disciples were the travelling companions whom good fortune had thrown in our way. The recollection of their fallen master was ever in their minds, but the sentiments which that recollection excited in them were not always the same. Sometimes they regarded their master as a saint, sometimes as a swindler; one day they would pronounce his name with veneration, raising their clasped hands to their forehead; another day, they would curse him, and spit in the air, to show their contempt for him. The Lama of Torgot, however, always made the best of the matter. He reproached himself, sometimes, for having made an offering of all his herds to a man who now developed, pretty manifestly, every appearance of a rogue; but still he consoled himself that after all the man’s knavery had been the occasion of his seeing a good deal of the world, and visiting the most celebrated Lamaseries. These four young men were excellent fellows, and capital travelling companions. Every day they gave us some fresh details of their varied adventures, and their narratives frequently contributed to make us forget, for awhile, the fatigues and miseries of the journey. A permanent cause of the sufferings we had to endure was our pro-cameleer Charadchambeul. At first, this young Lama appeared to us a budding saint, but before long, we found that we had got amongst us a complete little demon with a human face. The following adventure opened our eyes to his character, and showed us what we should have to endure on his account.