The general march and particular movements of the caravan were executed with tolerable order and precision, especially at the outset. Generally, we started every morning two or three hours before sunrise, in order that we might encamp about noon, and give the animals full time to feed during the remainder of the day; the reveillé was announced by a cannon shot; forthwith, everybody rose, the fires were lighted, and while some of each particular party loaded the beasts of burden, the others boiled the kettle and prepared breakfast; a few cups of tea were drunk, a few handfuls of tsamba eaten, and then the tent was taken down, and packed. A second cannon-shot gave the signal for departure. A few of the more experienced horsemen took the lead as guides; these were followed by long files of camels, and then came the long-haired cattle, in herds of two or three hundred beasts each, under the care of several lakto. The horsemen had no fixed place in the procession; they dashed here and there, up and down, just as their caprice suggested. The plaintive cries of the camels, the roaring of the bulls, the lowing of the cows, the neighing of the horses, the talking, bawling, laughing, singing of the travellers, the whistling of the lakto to the beasts of burden, and, above all, the innumerable bells tinkling from the necks of the yaks and the camels, produced together an immense, undefinable concert, which, far from wearying, seemed, on the contrary, to inspire everybody with fresh courage and energy. The caravan went on thus across the desert, stopping each day in plains, in valleys, and on the mountain sides, improvising, with its tents, so numerous and so varied in form and colour, a large town, which vanished each morning, to reappear further on each evening. What an astonishing thing it must have been for these vast and silent deserts, to find themselves, all of a sudden, traversed by so numerous and so noisy a multitude! When we viewed those infinite travelling tents, those large herds, and those men, in turns shepherds and warriors, we could not help frequently reflecting upon the march of the Israelites, when they went in search of the Promised Land, through the solitudes of Median. On quitting the shore of the Blue Sea, we directed our steps towards the west, with a slight inclination, perhaps, southward. The first days of our march were perfect poetry; everything was just as we could have wished; the weather was magnificent, the road excellent, the water pure, the pastures rich and ample. As to brigands, we lost all thought of them. In the night, it was, indeed, rather cold; but this inconvenience was easily obviated by the aid of our sheep-skin coats. We asked one another what people could mean by representing this Thibet journey as something so formidable; it seemed to us impossible for any one to travel more comfortably, or more agreeably. Alas! this enchantment was not of long duration.