rugged surface; it seemed as though, at every moment, an invisible force was drawing us towards those fathomless gulfs. Lest we should get giddy, we kept our heads turned towards the mountain, the declivity of which was sometimes so perpendicular, that it did not even offer a ledge for the horses to plant their feet on. In such places we passed over large trunks of trees, supported by piles fixed horizontally in the mountain side. At the very sight of these frightful bridges we felt a cold perspiration running from all our limbs. It was essential, however, to advance, for to return or to dismount were two things beyond possibility. After having been for two days constantly suspended between life and death, we at length got clear of this route, the most dreadful and most dangerous imaginable, and arrived at Alan-To. Every one was rejoiced, and we congratulated each other on not having fallen into the abyss. Each recounted, with a sort of feverish excitement, the terrors he had experienced in the most difficult parts of the passage. The Dheba of Alan-To, on hearing that no one had perished, expressed his opinion that the caravan had been unprecedentedly fortunate. Three oxen laden with baggage had indeed been swallowed up, but these mischances were not worth talking about. Ly-Kouo-Ngan told us that he had never passed the defile of Alan-To without witnessing frightful accidents. In his previous journey, four soldiers had been precipitated from the top of the mountain with the horses they rode. Every one was able to recount catastrophes, the mere recital of which made our hair stand on end. They had forborne to mention them before, for fear of our refusing to continue the journey. In fact, if we could have seen at Lha-Ssa, the frightful abysses of Alan-To, it is probable that the ambassador Ki-Chan would scarcely have succeeded in inducing us to attempt this journey. From Alan-To, where we changed oulah, we descended through a thick forest of firs, into a valley where we stopped, after eighty lis march, at a village called Lang-Ki-Tsoung. This post is one of the most picturesque and most agreeable we had met throughout our journey. It is situate amidst the centre of a plain, bounded on all sides by low mountains, the sides of which are covered with trees of fine growth. The country is fertile, and the Thibetians of the district seem to cultivate it with much care. The fields are watered by an abundant stream, the waters of which drift down a large quantity of gold sand, for which reason, the Chinese give this valley the name of Kin-Keou (gold.)