ABSTRACT
The next day the city had somewhat quieted down, and I was called over to the Palace of Justice by the civil magistrates and asked to aid them in composing a letter to the Kashak, or Cabinet, explaining how and why I came to Lhasa. I found the two officials upstairs in a tiny room. They were clad in red-silk robes, with purple facings that looked so exactly like my Oxford doctor’s gown that I burst out laughing when I first saw them. They were seated on a dais at the end of the room. Over them was a golden canopy, and on a small lacquer table in front of them were placed jade cups with silver stands and covers, which were constantly being replenished by small pages with the usual buttered tea. Along either side of the room ran lower cushions, on which clerks were seated cross-legged. Generally, any person who is called before the magistrates is forced to kneel down on the bare floor before them, but a special exception was made in my case, and a senior clerk vacated his seat for me.
