desert capital nearly doubled its population, and during August the
din and stir of trade and amusements ceased not by day or night, and
the shifting scenes were as gay in colouring and as full of variety
as could be desired.

Great caravans en route for Khotan, Yarkand, and even Chinese Tibet
arrived daily from Kashmir, the Panjab, and Afghanistan, and stacked
their bales of goods in the place; the Lhassa traders opened shops in
which the specialties were brick tea and instruments of worship;
merchants from Amritsar, Cabul, Bokhara, and Yarkand, stately in
costume and gait, thronged the bazaar and opened bales of costly
goods in tantalising fashion; mules, asses, horses, and yaks kicked,
squealed, and bellowed; the dissonance of bargaining tongues rose
high; there were mendicant monks, Indian fakirs, Moslem dervishes,
Mecca pilgrims, itinerant musicians, and Buddhist ballad howlers;
bold-faced women with creels on their backs brought in lucerne;
Ladakis, Baltis, and Lahulis tended the beasts, and the wazir's
jemadar and gay spahis moved about among the throngs. In the midst
of this picturesque confusion, the short, square-built, Lhassa
traders, who face the blazing sun in heavy winter clothing, exchange
their expensive tea for Nubra and Baltistan dried apricots, Kashmir
saffron, and rich stuffs from India; and merchants from Yarkand on
big Turkestan horses offer hemp, which is smoked as opium, and
Russian trifles and dress goods, under cloudless skies. With the
huge Kailas range as a background, this great rendezvous of Central
Asian traffic has a great fascination, even though moral shadows of
the darkest kind abound.

On the second morning, while I was taking the sketch of Usman Shah
which appears as the frontispiece, he was recognised both by the