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i68 ADVENTURES IN TIBET.
the sea. There we were met by two messengers from our
head-quarters camp, announcing that all was well. Both
messengers were strangers to us. One of them was called
Khodai Vardi, a stupid fellow, who afterwards tried to
play me a nasty trick. The other was a young Afghan
from Cherchen, called Aldat. He had spent the winter
amongst the mountains shooting yaks, the skins of which
he used to sell to merchants in Keriya. Young and hand-
some, he roamed those high mountainous tracts all the
year through, leading the life of a hunter. The only things
he carried with him were his rifle, sheepskin coat, knife
and steel for striking fire. He supported himself upon the
flesh of the yaks he shot and the spring water from the
melting snows. Aldat was a likeable, though singular,
person. He never laughed, never spoke, except it was
necessary ; answered questions curtly and to the point,
and almost always kept to himself, with his rifle on his
shoulder. His countenance was melancholy, his glance
questioning and full of wonder. His gait was like that of
a king ; he seemed to skim over the ground as lightly as
the antelopes, and the thin mountain air never made him
tired, though it caused all the rest of us violent heart-
beating. Without a moment’s hesitation Aldat accepted
the invitation to accompany me in my first Tibetan expe-
dition. What a strange, and yet, at the same time, what
a delightful life was his !
" What do you do," I asked, " if you fail to shoot a yak
and have nothing to eat ?
"
" I go hungry," he answered.
" Where do you sleep of nights ?
"
" In a crevice of the rocks or in a ravine, sometimes in
a cave."
" Are you not afraid of being disturbed by wolves ?
"
" I have tinder and flint, and every night I make a fire.
Besides, I have my rifle."
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