On the 11th of March, 1775, the Pyn Cushos were to set out for their country seat, about two days' journey from Teshu Lumbo, and asked me to accompany them. I was glad of an opportunity of varying the insipid scene, and applied for the Lama's permission, which he readily granted me. We set out about midday. I carried with me only one Hindustani servant, resolving to live like a Tibetan. The Pyn Cushos had about a dozen servants. We arrived towards evening at a village, in the valley through which runs the Tsanpu, and took up our quarters in the head man's house. After drinking tea, dinner was brought in. A cup of hashed mutton, not unlike a greasy curry, another of boiled rice, a third of raw beef beat into a jelly, and highly seasoned with salt, turmeric, and other spices. It is far from unsavoury, when one can get the better of European prejudices. There were also a joint of mutton well boiled, and another just scorched on the outside but raw within. It requires no conjuring to find out on which I made my dinner. There is no such thing as two people cutting from the same joint of meat, or helping themselves from the same plate, so that a separate set of the above dishes was served up to each. After this we had fruits and sweetmeats, and, the Pyn Cushos having lent me a pipe, we sat down to smoke.