matches. We were all walking along together save one Soyot who limped slowly in the rear and was holding his hand up over his nose.
"Is he ill?" I asked.
"Yes," sadly answered the old Soyot. "That is my son. He has been losing blood from the nose for two days and is now quite weak."
I stopped and called the young man to me.
"Unbutton your outer coat," I ordered, "bare your neck and chest and turn your face up as far as you can." I pressed the jugular vein on both sides of his head for some minutes and said to him:
"The blood will not flow from your nose any more. Go into your tepee and lie down for some time."
The "mysterious" action of my fingers created on the Soyots a strong impression. The old Soyot with fear and reverence whispered:
"Ta Lama, Ta Lama! (Great Doctor)."
In the yurta we were given tea while the old Soyot sat thinking deeply about something. Afterwards he took counsel with his companions and finally announced:
"The wife of our Prince is sick in her eyes and I think the Prince will be very glad if I lead the 'Ta Lama' to him. He will not punish me, for he ordered that no 'bad people' should be allowed to pass; but that should not stop the 'good people' from coming to us."
"Do as you think best," I replied rather indifferently. "As a matter of fact, I know how to treat eye diseases but I would go back if you say so."
"No, no!" the old man exclaimed with fear. "I shall guide you myself."
Sitting by the fire, he lighted his pipe with a flint,
