monastery called the World. But stay, there is the yak, who also has claims upon our charity,
and, turning, he struck upon a gong or bell which hung within the door.
At the sound another man appeared, more wrinkled and to all appearance older than the first, who stared at us open-mouthed.
Brother,
said the abbot, shut that great mouth of yours lest an evil spirit should fly down it; take this poor yak and give it fodder with the other cattle.
So we unstrapped our belongings from the back of the beast, and the old fellow whose grandiloquent title was Master of the Herds,
led it away.
When it had gone, not too willingly—for our faithful friend disliked parting from us and distrusted this new guide—the abbot, who was named Kou-en, led us into the living room or rather the kitchen of the monastery, for it served both purposes. Here we found the rest of the monks, about twelve in all, gathered round the fire of which we had seen the smoke, and engaged, one of them in preparing the morning meal, and the rest in warming themselves.
They were all old men; the youngest could not have been less than sixty-five. To these we were solemnly introduced as Brethren of the Monastery called the World, where folk grow hungry,
for the abbot Kou-en could not make up his mind to part from this little joke.
They stared at us, they rubbed their thin hands, they bowed and wished us well and evidently were delighted at our arrival. This was not strange, however, seeing that ours were the first new faces which they had seen for four long years.
Nor did they stop at words, for while they made water hot for us to wash in, two of them went to prepare a room and others drew off our rough hide boots and thick outer garments and brought us slippers for our feet. Then they led us to the guest chamber, which they informed us was a propitious place,
for once it had been slept in by
