In a very high, lonely valley I once put up at @ Tibetan shepherd's cottage. When I arrived seven stalwart maidens, clad in skin skirts only, were at work building a mud wall, directed by an elderly gentleman in bear skin breeches who sat in the shade and smoked. My first efforts to talk to the labourers were vociferously repulsed. They called the dogs, chattered in terror, and threatened to stone me. So I, too, sat in the shade and smoked. The work went on, but after a time I found that I was being studied. A little later all pretence was dropped and the seven stood frankly staring at me. Little by little they drew into @ semi-circle about me until they were within arm's length. I looked severe and they sat back and stared timidly. Then stealthy hand crept up and felt the texture of my cost. In another instant I was being pawed by all seven. Every pocket was rifled, every seam and button tried and oom-mented upon. My spectacles were tapped and my yellow hair pulled to test its genuineness. The stubble on my chin was ruabbed—for the Tibetans pull such whiskers as they have with tweezers—and my were unlaced and removed. That night I dined in an admiring, loquacious circle, and rolled up to sleep with seven pairs of watchful eyes upon me. The process of washing my face was the occasion of great mirth and the whiteness of my skin was invariably attributed to thie ludicrous habit.
Even when I was on such confidential terms with the elders, I often found that the babies were shielded from my sight, and the women always resented it' when I looked directly into " child's eyes. For these people, like all primitive are tormented by unseen is and terrorized by superind wherever there is superstition there is that very ancient fear of the "evil eye."
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.