One day, after a good day's sport, we had all sat down near a
beautiful spring, and I was enjoying a luncheon, when I found that
Buctoo had collected some fifty Tartars about him, who sat in a
circle, listening to his explanation of the use of his telescope. None
of his hearers could for some time be induced to touch it; they were
afraid of its either exploding or metamorphosing them into wild sheep.
The large village Tehong Si was about four miles below our bivouac,
and several of the head men had come up to have a look at us. The
village was just discernible to the naked eye, and Buctoo politely
inquired of one of the chiefs, if he would like to be informed what
was going on in the village below? The chief told him he should, when
Buctoo drew out the glass, on which all the Tartars moved off to a
respectful distance.

After looking at the village, Buctoo persuaded them to come close to
him once more, and duly informed them what he could see in the
village, describing certain parts of it so correctly that they were
astounded. (I must here mention that neither myself nor any of my
servants had been allowed to enter the village.) The Tartars at first
could hardly credit it; but after sundry questions as to the
description of houses on the north side, and again on the southern,
which Buctoo, on carefully examining, correctly described, they became
sadly perplexed. Buctoo once more endeavored to persuade them to take
a look themselves, and, after much coaxing and a little brandy, one of
the head men was induced to take the telescope into his hand.

The figure he cut in doing so, I shall not easily forget. He held it
out at arm's length, grinned at it most horribly, and chattered some
abominable gibberish in Tartaree, that no one understood, appearing to