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It was evening when we marched into Tradun. In the last rays of the setting sun, the red monastery with its golden roof looked like a fairy palace on the hillside. The houses of the inhabitants, the usual mud-brick dwellings, were built behind the hill to shelter them from the wind. We found the whole population assembled and waiting for us in silence. We were at once taken into a house that had been made ready for us. Hardly had we unloaded our baggage when several servants arrived and invited us most courteously to come to their masters. Full of expectation we followed them to the house of the two high officials.