The Dewan halted us here for three days, for no assigned cause.
On the 16th, letters arrived, including a most kind and encouraging
one from Mr. Lushington, who had taken charge of Campbell's office at
Dorjiling. Immediately after arriving, the messenger was seized with
violent vomitings and gripings: we could not help suspecting poison,
especially as we were now amongst adherents of the Dewan, and the
Bhotanese are notorious for this crime. Only one means suggested
itself for proving this, and with Campbell's permission I sent my
compliments to the Dewan, with a request for one of his hunting dogs
to eat the vomit. It was sent at once, and performed its duty without
any ill effects. I must confess to having felt a malicious pleasure
in the opportunity thus afforded of showing our jailor how little we
trusted him; feeling indignant at the idea that he should suppose he
was making any way in our good opinion by his familiarities, which we
were not in circumstances to resist.

The crafty fellow, however, outwitted me by inviting us to dine with
him the same day, and putting our stomachs and noses to a severe
test. Our dinner was served in Chinese fashion, but most of the
luxuries, such as _beche-de-mer,_ were very old and bad. We ate,
sometimes with chop-sticks, and at others with Tibetan spoons,
knives, and two-pronged forks. After the usual amount of messes
served in oil and salt water, sweets were brought, and a strong
spirit. Thoba-sing, our filthy, cross-eyed spy, was waiter, and
brought in every little dish with both hands, and raised it to his
greasy forehead, making a sort of half bow previous to depositing it
before us. Sometimes he undertook to praise its contents, always
adding, that in Tibet none but very great men indeed partook of such
sumptuous fare. Thus he tried to please both us and the Dewan, who