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 then up again over a spur to Singhi-jong, a climb of 1740 feet in the full glare of the sun; then down again to a side stream, and again up to Myens-la (14,800 feet), and at last to my camp, pitched in a small side valley at Tashichukar (14,480 feet). I found the sun very trying climbing the southern slopes, but on reaching camp it clouded over, and the afternoon was wet and windy and very cold—the coldest camp I had yet been in on this expedition.

Singhi-jong is a deserted fort in ruins, situated on a fine rock, and the Jongpen does not live there, but prefers a house at its foot less pretentious and more comfortable. He was an old acquaintance of mine, whom I had met in Lhasa, where he was the official who issued rations to the Mission camp. About a year before my visit he had been transferred to Singhi, where I now met him. We had to change transport here; but everything was in readiness, so it did not take long. I had a fine view of some high snows looking up the valley on leaving Singhi-jong.

The Tibetans were not nearly so ready to be vaccinated as the Bhutanese, probably because there had been no recent outbreak of small-pox, and very few came forward, while in Bhutan the numbers already done had reached 800. From Tashichukar I made a long march and pushed right on to Lhalung, the Bhutan monastery, passing Tuwa-jong on the way. The road took me first straight down to the river, a descent of 2400 feet, and then straight up the other side in short zigzags, which were very trying. It then wound round the hillside for some distance and again dropped down to the stream at Tuwa-jong (13,000 feet). If I had only been a little earlier in the season all these ups and downs might have been avoided, as during the winter there is a path along the bed of the stream; but the glaciers had begun to melt, and the rivers were consequently in flood, so it was impracticable. Tuwa-jong I found to be a fine building, in Tibetan style, with the fort on the top of a very steep rock, and