But I must continue my journey. I crossed the iron bridge over the Tista river, and found a good and wide road on the other side. This time it was an ascent of seventeen miles as far as Ghoom, where I expected to arrive on that day. I quickened the pace of the horse on which I was riding, but owing to the recent rain the two horses which were loaded with my baggage could not go so fast, and I was obliged to stop at a village for the night, after only seven miles’ journey. The next day, I arrived at Lhasa Villa, the country seat of Sara? Chan?ra ?as of Darjeeling, my old teacher, through whom I first became acquainted with the Tibetan language. When I knocked at his door, one of his children opened it. He had forgotten me and was asking my name, when Mrs. Chan?ra ?as made her appearance and asked me on what business I came.

I replied with a smile, “Have you forgotten me? Can you not still remember me?”

Then the Rai Baha?ur, who had probably recognised my voice, rushed out and said: “Is it you, Mr. Kawaguchi? You are welcome.”

My baggage was immediately unloaded and carried in by the servant, and I was shown in. Great was his surprise and joy to see me again. He told me that he had known of my whereabouts from my two letters to him, and with what joy he had heard of my well-being as a doctor, but with what apprehension he had considered my prospects of getting out of Tibet. He also explained to me how Tsa Rong-ba came to him to hand him my letter, but as he ran away without calling at his house again as he promised, he could not give me his answer, adding that in his answer he had intended to advise me to return quickly, because on seeing my letter he had noticed there was no further need for me to study the Tibetan language and religion. He also told me that Dr. Bunyiu Nanjio of Japan had been very anxious about me and asked him in almost every letter to tell all he heard of me; and he said he would write to the Doctor directly. I talked of my experiences in Tibet and of the journey, and it was midnight when we went to bed.

Next morning I had bad fever, and when the fever went down it was followed by palsy; my limbs began to lose power and I felt as if the palsy was going to the heart. By and by I was unable to move my hands or feet at all, and I thought it must be a kind of heart attack of beri-beri from which it is generally believed death is almost inevitable. Rai Sara? was much concerned about me, and attended me all the time of my sickness. Meanwhile a physician came in and examined me. I learned afterwards that the physician pronounced my disease to be a Tista fever, the most frightful kind of malaria. I thought myself dying, and thought how lucky it was to die here at Darjeeling, for then my death could be announced to all my friends, whereas if it had occurred in Tibet, no one would have heard of it. But I thought that before I died I must make a will to the effect that the books I brought from Tibet must be sent to Japan, either to the Japanese Imperial University or to any other great library within easy reach of my fellow-countrymen. Therefore though in an almost insensible state I told my teacher to write a will for me, and began to talk in English but with great difficulty. Rai Sara? told me it was needless, for he understood what I meant to say. The physician also told me to keep quiet and spare both bodily and spiritual exertion as much as possible.

That night I felt a little better, but the palsy of the limbs remained just the same, and I entered into sama?hi, trying thus to remove the root of the malady. If any one had seen me in that state, he would have thought that I was indeed beside myself. After three days’ suffering, thanks to the careful attendance of Rai Sara?, I was a little better, and my limbs began to have some feeling in them, and after that, though slowly, I grew better and better, and on the eighth day I could move my hand a little. I wished to telegraph home of my whereabouts, but from Darjeeling to Japan the charge is thirty-seven rupees for three words, and two rupees was all the money I had left in my pocket now. Nor was I bold enough to borrow the money from my teacher, so after all, I did not telegraph home. But wishing to notify my return, I did my best to use my hand and wrote a letter addressed to Hige Tokujuro in my native town, though I do not quite remember what I wrote in it. I was gradually recovering, but for a whole month I was unable to do anything, and became very thin and weak. While in Tibet I had grown fat and healthy, and they had often told me that I was another man after ten months’ stay in Lhasa, and I had felt so too; but now I was again quite lean. Happily, however, by the grace of Bu??ha I survived, and before another month had passed I was able to read and write. After that I had a great many visitors with whom I had every kind of conversation, to relate which would take another volume, but as they have no direct connexion with the journey to Tibet they need not be narrated here.

I was obliged to stay at Darjeeling for some time, because after having been accustomed to the cold climate of Tibet, I was afraid in my enfeebled state to undertake a journey over the scorching plains of India. My doctor also advised me to stay in Darjeeling for three months at least, and I determined to do so. While I was thus waiting for the recovery of my health, I heard nothing from Lhasa, for in this season of the year the communication between Phari and Darjeeling is almost entirely suspended from the fear of attacks of fever on foreign travellers in the intermediate region. The natives of Tomo-Rinchen-gang, who are accustomed to the climate, do not catch it easily, but if Tibetans were to pass through the district in the dangerous season they would surely be attacked by the malady. When I left Tibet it was at the beginning of the season and the caravan which I joined was the last but one. I knew the danger very well, but I had no other choice; the affair which occurred in Lhasa drove me to come across the dangerous path, and had caused my illness at Darjeeling. In October the first caravan came from Tibet and brought me some shocking news.