The houses of Lang-Ki-Tsoung are very singularly constructed; they are absolutely nothing more than trunks of trees, stripped of their bark, and with the two extremities cut off; so that they may be nearly of the same size throughout. Enormous piles are first driven into the earth to a great depth; the part remaining above ground being at most two feet in height. Upon these piles they arrange horizontally, one beside the other, the trunks of fir which they have prepared; these form the foundation and the floor of the house. Other fir trees similarly prepared, and laid one upon the other, serve to form walls remarkable for their thickness and solidity. The roof is likewise formed of trunks, covered with large pieces of bark, arranged like slates. These houses exactly resemble enormous cages, the bars of which are closely fixed against each other. If between the joints they discover any cracks they stop these up with argols. They sometimes build in this fashion very large houses, of several stories high, very warm, and always free from damp. Their only inconvenience is their having very uneven and disagreeable floors. If the inhabitants of Lang-Ki-Tsoung ever take it into their heads to give balls, they will, it is most likely, be obliged to modify their plan of house construction. Whilst we were waiting patiently and in silence in our big cage until they should please to serve up supper, the Dheba of Lang-Ki-Tsoung, and the corporal of the Chinese guard, came to tell us that they had a little point to settle with us. “What point?” cried Ly-Kouo-Ngan, with an important air, “what point? Oh, I see, the oulah is not ready.” “It is not that,” answered the Dheba. “Never at Lang-Ki-Tsoung has any one to wait for his oulah; you shall have it this evening, if you like, but I must warn you that the mountain of Tanda is impassable; for eight consecutive days, the snow has fallen in such abundance that the roads are not yet open.” “We have passed the Chor-Kou-La, why should we not with equal success pass the Tanda?” “What is the Chor-Kou-La to the Tanda? these mountains are not to be compared with each other. Yesterday, three men, of the district of Tanda, chose to venture upon the mountain, two of them have disappeared in the snow, the third arrived here this morning alone and on foot, for his horse was also swallowed up. However,” said the Dheba, “you can go when you like; the oulah is at your service, but you will have to pay for the oxen and horses that will die on the way.” Having thus stated his ultimatum, the Thibetian diplomatist put out his tongue at us, scratched his ear, and withdrew. Whilst the Pacificator of Kingdoms, the Lama Dsiamdchang, and a few other experienced persons belonging to the caravan, were discussing earnestly the question of departure, we took up the Chinese Itinerary, and read there the following passage: “The mountain of Tanda is extremely precipitous and difficult of ascent; a