Just after leaving Camp 62, we were all struck with wonderment at finding a track running almost at right angles to our own route. It was so well defined, and bore such unmistakable signs of a considerable amount of traffic having gone along it, that we concluded it could be no other than a high road from Turkistan to the mysterious Lhassa, yet the track was not more than a foot broad. Our surmises, too, were considerably strengthened when one of the men picked up the entire leg bone of some baggage animal, probably a mule, for still adhering to the leg was a shoe. This was a sure proof that the road had been made use of by some merchant or explorer, and that it could not have been merely a kyang or yak track, or one made use of only by nomads, for they never shoe their animals in this part of the world.
Such a startling discovery as this bore weight with the men, and nothing would have suited their spirits better than to have stuck to the track and march northwards, and they evidently thought us strange mortals for not following this course; therefore, instead of being elated with joy, they became more despondent than ever when they found we were still bent upon blundering along in our eastern route. But it was our strong belief that we should for a certainty find people in a very few days' time, and this being the case, we did not see the force of travelling in a wrong direction, and put aside the objects for which we had set out, just to suit the passing whim of a few craven-hearted men, especially when we knew that the cause of their running short of food and consequent trouble was entirely due to their own dishonest behaviour. We did, however, send one man, Mahomed Rahim, supplied with food, with instructions to follow the road north as far as he had courage to go, thinking that when he had crossed a certain range of hills he would discover the whereabouts of people. Furthermore we explained to him the way we intended going, so that there could be no chance of his losing himself.
A mile or so further on we came to the dried-up salt bed of a very ancient lake. The salt was in every shape and form of crustation, and the whole lake for several miles across was divided up into small squares with walls one to three feet high, rugged and irregular. The going across this was troublesome and arduous, first stumbling over one wall, then crossing a few yards of crumbling, crystallised salt before another had to be scrambled over. Thus it went on for mile after mile, and the length of the lake being most deceptive it seemed as though we should never, _never_ cross it. As the sun rose higher some of the salt composite melted, and then we found ourselves first in slush, then on a bit of hard, rugged going, most liable to cause a sprain to any of the mules. It became evident that unless we were pretty smart in getting off the lake altogether, we should find ourselves bogged there for the rest of the day; thus our first idea of going straight ahead across the lake had to fall through, and we steered for the nearest shore, which was on the southern side, all the time the ground getting worse and more treacherous. When, only in the nick of time, we did stand on a sound footing again, we congratulated ourselves that for once only had we deviated a short way from our course. Although this salt bed had proved such an unforeseen obstacle in our line, still it was useful to us in another way. The salt was of an excellent quality, and we were able to replenish our store of this most necessary article, of which there was so little left that we were carefully economising it.