{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_43549/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_43549","id":"gutenberg_43549","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43549","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Travel Writing","Hedin, Sven Anders, 1865-1952 -- Travel -- China -- Tibet Autonomous Region","Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Description and travel"],"text":"TRANS-HIMALAYA\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n LONDON \u00b7 BOMBAY \u00b7 CALCUTTA\n MELBOURNE\n\n THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n NEW YORK \u00b7 BOSTON \u00b7 CHICAGO\n ATLANTA \u00b7 SAN FRANCISCO\n\n THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.\n TORONTO\n\n\n[Illustration: Aron Jonason Photogr.\n\n 189. SVEN HEDIN.\n\n _Frontispiece_]\n\n\n\n TRANS-HIMALAYA\n\n DISCOVERIES AND ADVENTURES IN TIBET\n\n BY\n\n SVEN HEDIN\n\n\n WITH 388 ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS, WATER-COLOUR\n SKETCHES, AND DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR\n AND 10 MAPS\n\n IN TWO VOLUMES\n VOL. II\n\n MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON\n 1910\n\n\n\n\n_First Edition 1909_\n\n_Reprinted 1910_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n CHAPTER XXXV PAGE\n IMMURED MONKS 1\n\n CHAPTER XXXVI\n OVER THE CHANG-LA-POD-LA 12\n\n CHAPTER XXXVII\n TARGO-GANGRI AND THE SHURU-TSO 25\n\n CHAPTER XXXVIII\n TO THE OUTLET OF THE CHAKTAK-TSANGPO IN THE\n BRAHMAPUTRA 38\n\n CHAPTER XXXIX\n MUHAMED ISA'S DEATH 52\n\n CHAPTER XL\n ALONG BYWAYS TO TRADUM 64\n\n CHAPTER XLI\n A PEEP INTO NEPAL 77\n\n CHAPTER XLII\n IN SEARCH OF THE SOURCE OF THE BRAHMAPUTRA 89\n\n CHAPTER XLIII\n THE SOURCE OF THE SACRED RIVER--A DEPARTURE 99\n\n CHAPTER XLIV\n A NIGHT ON MANASAROWAR 110\n\n CHAPTER XLV\n MORE LAKE VOYAGES 122\n\n CHAPTER XLVI\n A STORMY VOYAGE OVER THE HOLY LAKE 133\n\n CHAPTER XLVII\n ON THE ROOF OF THE GOSSUL MONASTERY 144\n\n CHAPTER XLVIII\n OUR LAST DAYS ON TSO-MAVANG 154\n\n CHAPTER XLIX\n ADVENTURES ON LANGAK-TSO 166\n\n CHAPTER L\n THE SOURCE OF THE SUTLEJ 178\n\n CHAPTER LI\n A PILGRIMAGE ROUND KANG-RINPOCHE 189\n\n CHAPTER LII\n OM MANI PADME HUM 200\n\n CHAPTER LIII\n THE DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCE OF THE INDUS 207\n\n CHAPTER LIV\n A RESOLUTION 215\n\n CHAPTER LV\n A NEW CHAPTER 226\n\n CHAPTER LVI\n UP TO THE HEIGHTS OF DAPSANG 237\n\n CHAPTER LVII\n ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD 248\n\n CHAPTER LVIII\n FORTY DEGREES BELOW ZERO 258\n\n CHAPTER LIX\n IN THE SNOW 267\n\n CHAPTER LX\n DEATH OF THE LAST VETERAN 272\n\n CHAPTER LXI\n THIRTY DAYS OF STORM 282\n\n CHAPTER LXII\n ADVENTURES OF OURSELVES AND PUPPY IN NAGRONG 292\n\n CHAPTER LXIII\n THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS OF BONGBA 302\n\n CHAPTER LXIV\n TSONGPUN TASHI 313\n\n CHAPTER LXV\n BUPTSANG-TSANGPO, ONE OF THE LARGEST RIVERS OF THE\n HEART OF TIBET 321\n\n CHAPTER LXVI\n IN THE ROBBERS' PARADISE 332\n\n CHAPTER LXVII\n APRIL 24 343\n\n CHAPTER LXVIII\n HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF SAKA 353\n\n CHAPTER LXIX\n KAMBA TSENAM, FATHER OF THE ROBBERS 364\n\n CHAPTER LXX\n THE SEVENTH CROSSING OF THE TRANS-HIMALAYA--TO THE\n HEAVENLY LAKE OF THE THRONE MOUNTAIN 374\n\n CHAPTER LXXI\n ANOTHER JOURNEY ACROSS THE WHITE PATCH 385\n\n CHAPTER LXXII\n THE LAST DAYS IN UNKNOWN COUNTRY 395\n\n CHAPTER LXXIII\n THE TRANS-HIMALAYA 401\n\n CHAPTER LXXIV\n SIMLA 415\n\n INDEX 425\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n PAGE\n 189. Sven Hedin _Frontispiece_\n\n 190. Hermit's Grotto near the Chang-la-Pod-la 12\n\n 191. Robert and Rabsang by the Ice on the Way to the\n Chang-la-Pod-la 18\n\n 192. A Lhadse decked with Mani-Stones and Prayer-Streamers 18\n\n 193, 194. Nomads south of Targo-gangri 24\n\n 195. Mendicant Lama blowing on a Human Bone 24\n\n 196. Tibetan Boy 24\n\n 197. Kubi-gangri from Camp 201 26\n\n 198. Targo-gangri from a Hill near Camp 150 26\n\n 199. The Chomo-uchong Group from the Kinchen-la, May 23, 1907 26\n\n 200. Lundup's Squadron. To the left a part of Targo-gangri, Camp\n 150 28\n\n 201. Lundup (on horseback to the left) and his Retinue prevent me\n from proceeding to the Dangra-yum-tso 30\n\n 202, 203, 204. Targo-gangri from the South 32\n\n 205. The Shuru-tso, with Targo-gangri in the Background 34\n\n 206. On the Upper Raga-tsangpo 36\n\n 207. Angden-la 36\n\n 208. Chomo-uchong from the east 36\n\n 209, 210. Angden-la, a Pass on the Trans-Himalaya 38\n\n 211. Manis on the Way to the Angden-la 40\n\n 212. Chomo-uchong from Lamlung-la 44\n\n 213. Panorama from the Ta-la. The Brahmaputra Valley and the\n Himalayas in the Background 44\n\n 214. Beggar at Tashi-gembe 50\n\n 215. Young Tibetan at the Mouth of the Chaktak-tsangpo 50\n\n 216. Wandering Lama with a Wooden Glove in his Hand, such as is\n used to protect the Hands in the Prostration Pilgrimage\n round the Holy Mountain Kailas 50\n\n 217. The Corpse of Muhamed Isa 54\n\n 218. Muhamed Isa's Funeral Procession 56\n\n 219, 220, 221. The Interment of Muhamed Isa 58\n\n 222. Woman at the Mouth of the Chaktak-tsangpo in the Tsangpo 64\n\n 223. Tibetan of Saka 64\n\n 224. Lama in Saka-dzong 64\n\n 225, 226, 227, 228. Tibetan Boys and Girls of Saka and Tradum 70\n\n 229. Woman of Nyuku 74\n\n 230. Two Tibetans 74\n\n 231. The Gova of Tuksum 74\n\n 232. Girl at Pasa-guk 74\n\n 233. View from the Kore-la towards the south-west 78\n\n 234. Gulam Razul's Tents in Gartok 82\n\n 235. Landscape in Upper Nepal 82\n\n 236. A Chhorten in Nepal 84\n\n 237. Group of Tibetan Women 84\n\n 238. Women in the Village of Namla 88\n\n 239. Inhabitants of the Village of Namla 88\n\n 240. Lama in my Boat 92\n\n 241. Loading the Boat with Boxes on crossing the Brahmaputra 92\n\n 242. Panorama of Kubi-gangri and the Langta-chen Glacier, with the\n Source of the Brahmaputra (from a height of 16,453 feet,\n July 13, 1907) 102\n\n 243, 244, 245. The Mountains at the Source of the Brahmaputra 106\n\n 246. Tibetans on the Bank of the Soma-tsangpo 110\n\n 247. Group of Natives of Langmar 110\n\n 248. Robert in the Boat 118\n\n 249. Sheep-shearing at Tugu-gompa on Manasarowar 124\n\n 250. The God of the Lake rising from Tso-mavang 130\n\n 251. Temple Hall of the Lake-God of Tso-mavang 134\n\n 252. Chenresi's Image in Tugu-gompa 134\n\n 253. The Lhakang Hall in Tugu-gompa 138\n\n 254. Lama with Prayer-Drum 140\n\n 255. Lama before the Temple Door in Tugu-gompa 140\n\n 256. Yanggo-gompa 146\n\n 257. Interior of the Temple, Tugu 146\n\n 258. A Dreamer. Lama in Yanggo-gompa on Manasarowar 148\n\n 259. The old Nun in Yanggo-gompa 150\n\n 260. The Holy Lake Manasarowar from Tugu-gompa, with Kailas\n in the Background _Coloured_ 152\n\n 261. Boy on the Upper Tsangpo 162\n\n 262. The young Prior of Langbo-nan 162\n\n 263. Temple Vessels in Chiu-gompa 166\n\n 264. Two Children in Shigatse 166\n\n 265. Kailas behind Nyandi-gompa 170\n\n 266. My Pack-Sheep 170\n\n 267. Part of Kailas 174\n\n 268. Kailas from Diri-pu 182\n\n 269. Confluence of the Two Arms of the Indus 182\n\n 270. Tibetan Female Pilgrims at Kailas 188\n\n 271. The Gova by whose help the Source of the Indus was\n discovered (seated) and Tibetans at Kailas 194\n\n 272. Gulam Razul beside Bales of Chinese Brick-Tea 198\n\n 273. Tibetan Tent 202\n\n 274. Monastery of Gar-gunsa 202\n\n 275. Images at Chushut 202\n\n 276. The Policemen from Simla 206\n\n 277. My Boat on the Indus 206\n\n 278. Ladaki Women 206\n\n 279, 280, 281. At the Monastery Door in Tashi-gang between Gartok\n and Ladak 210\n\n 282. Dancing Women in Chushut, a Village on my Way back to Ladak 212\n\n 283. Old Woman 216\n\n 284. Lama in Chushut 216\n\n 285. On the Way to Tankse 220\n\n 286. In the Indus Valley on the Way to Ladak 220\n\n 287. The new Horses and Mules at Drugub 220\n\n 288. Robert in Winter Dress 224\n\n 289. Abdul Kerim, the new Caravan Leader 226\n\n 290, 291, 292. Lobsang, Gulam, Kutus--my last trusty Followers 228\n\n 293. Beggars 230\n\n 294. Abdul Kerim's new Tent 230\n\n 295. My Brown Puppy with my Cook, Tsering 234\n\n 296, 297, 298. My White Ladaki Horse 234\n\n 299. Panorama from Camp 422, Bongba 238\n\n 300. Panorama from Camp 277, Shyok Valley 238\n\n 301. View from Camp 307 _Coloured_ 258\n\n 302. The small salt Lake south of Camp 309 _Coloured_ 258\n\n 303. Horses going to drink at the Lake near Camp 310. Abdul Kerim\n on the left _Coloured_ 258\n\n 304. Mountain north-east of Camp 310; the freshwater Lake in the\n Foreground _Coloured_ 258\n\n 305. Storm Clouds over the Snowy Mountains south of Camp 312\n _Coloured_ 258\n\n 306. Camp 307 262\n\n 307. Camp 333. The Beginning of a Storm 262\n\n 308. Camp 335. Lemchung-tso, looking east 262\n\n 309. Camp 401. Kanchung-gangri from the north 262\n\n 310. My Dying Pony 264\n\n 311. Lost beyond Recovery 268\n\n 312. \"If this continues a few days longer, we are lost\" 270\n\n 313, 314, 315, 316, 317. Panoramas from the Camps 318, 333, 335,\n 359, 360; in the last two, Sha-kangsham 284\n\n 318. The Author as a Shepherd 298\n\n 319, 320, 321. The Summits of Lunpo-gangri from Camps 379, 381,\n and 383 326\n\n 322. Wrestling 332\n\n 323. Two Guides 332\n\n 324. Boy with Hat 332\n\n 325. Shepherd Boy 332\n\n 326. Sonam Ngurbu, Chief of the Chokchu Province 334\n\n 327. Dorche Tsuen, Governor of the Saka Province 334\n\n 328. Man with a singular Cap, in Sonam Ngurbu's Escort 334\n\n 329. Tagla Tsering, the Chief who refused to let me go to the\n Dangra-yum-tso 334\n\n 330. Travelling Ladaki Merchant in West Tibet 340\n\n 331. Oang Gye, Son of the Governor of Saka 340\n\n 332. Panchor, the Yak-slayer, my Guide on the Journey to the\n Teri-nam-tso 340\n\n 333. Woman of Yumba-matsen 340\n\n 334. Tibetans with Yaks 344\n\n 335. Dorche Tsuen on the March 344\n\n 336. Farewell Entertainment for the Tibetans on May 5, 1908 348\n\n 337, 338, 339, 340. The Dancers at the Camp-fire: Tubges, Kunchuk,\n Suen 350\n\n 341. Inner Court of Selipuk 354\n\n 342. Dorche Tsuen and Ngavang on Horseback 354\n\n 343. The Author in Tibetan Dress 358\n\n 344, 345. Soldiers of the Garrison of Saka-dzong, belonging to our\n Escort 360\n\n 346. Armed Tibetan from the Country between the Teri-nam-tso\n and the Dangra-yum-tso 360\n\n 347. Boy with small Gun on the southern Shore of the Teri-nam-tso 360\n\n 348. Trooper of the Escort 364\n\n 349. Tibetan of Teri-nam-tso 364\n\n 350. Young Shepherd of Bongba 364\n\n 351. Guests at the Opening of my Tent on the Bank of the\n Teri-nam-tso 366\n\n 352. The Yaks fording the River Soma-tsangpo 366\n\n 353. Nima Tashi, Commander of the Government Escort on the\n way to the Teri-nam-tso _Coloured_ 368\n\n 354. Nuns of Mendong _Coloured_ 368\n\n 355. A High Lama of Chokchu _Coloured_ 368\n\n 356. The Prior of Selipuk _Coloured_ 368\n\n 357. Two Lamas of Mendong 370\n\n 358. My Sheep crossing the River Soma-tsangpo 370\n\n 359. Village below Lunkar-gompa on the Tarok-tso _Coloured_ 374\n\n 360. Mendong Monastery west of the Teri-nam-tso _Coloured_ 374\n\n 361. Selipuk Monastery south-west of the Nganglaring-tso\n _Coloured_ 374\n\n 362. Holiday Costumes and Ornaments of Tibetan Women of Kyangrang\n in the Trans-Himalaya _Coloured_ 374\n\n 363. Crossing the Kangsham River 376\n\n 364. The Village of Lunkar 378\n\n 365. Group of Tibetans at the Teri-nam-tso 378\n\n 366. The Village of Lunkar from the Temple Hill 382\n\n 367. The southern Shore of Manasarowar with grazing Yaks 382\n\n 368. Lunkar-gompa 386\n\n 369. Selipuk-gompa 386\n\n 370. The Trans-Himalaya from Abuk-la 388\n\n 371. Storm over the Trans-Himalaya 388\n\n 372. Sonam Ngurbu and his Followers on Horseback 392\n\n 373. Some of our Horses on the Way to Kamba Tsenam's Tent 392\n\n 374. Lama of Chokchu taking leave of the Prior of Selipuk 396\n\n 375. Lama of Chokchu on Horseback 396\n\n 376, 377. Boys sitting 398\n\n 378. Young Lama 398\n\n 379. Old Woman 398\n\n 380. Colonel T. G. Montgomerie 404\n\n 381. Abb\u00e9 Huc 404\n\n 382. Altar Table with Images of Gods in Mangnang-gompa _Coloured_ 406\n\n 383. The Author in Tibetan Costume at the Mission Station in Poo 408\n\n 384. The last Members of the last Expedition in Poo 412\n\n 385. My Puppy 416\n\n 386. Takkar in his new Home with the Missionaries in Poo 416\n\n 387. Simla 418\n\n 388. The last Members of the Expedition at the Entrance of the\n Viceregal Lodge in Simla 420\n\n\n\n\nMAPS\n\n\n 8. The Sources of the Brahmaputra, Sutlej, and Indus.\n\n 9. A Map of the Trans-Himalaya by Dr. Sven Hedin.\n\n 10. A Map of Tibet showing Dr. Sven Hedin's Routes 1906-1908.\n\n (_At end of Volume._)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV\n\nIMMURED MONKS\n\n\nWe had heard of a lama who had lived for the last three years in a cave\nin the valley above the monastery of Linga, and though I knew that I\nshould not be allowed to see either the monk or the interior of his\nghastly dwelling, I would not miss the opportunity of at least gaining\nsome slight notion of how he was housed.\n\nOn April 16, 1907, eighteen months to a day after I had left Stockholm,\ndreary windy weather prevailed, with thickly falling snow and dense\nclouds. We rode up to Linga, past rows of fine _chhortens_, left the\nlast dormitories behind us, saw an old tree-trunk painted white and red,\npassed a small pool with crystal-clear spring water thinly frozen over,\nand heaps of _mani_ stones with streamer poles, and then arrived at the\nsmall convent Samde-puk, built on the very point of a spur between two\nside valleys. It is affiliated to the Linga monastery, and has only four\nbrethren, who all came to greet me heartily at the entrance.\n\nIt is a miniature copy, outwardly and inwardly, of those we have seen\nbefore. The _dukang_ has only three pillars and one divan for the four\nmonks, who read the mass together, nine prayer-cylinders of medium size\nwhich are set in motion by leathern straps, a drum and a gong, two masks\nwith diadems of skulls, and a row of idols, among which may be\nrecognized several copies of Chenresi and Sekiya Kongma, the chief abbot\nof Sekiya.\n\nA few steps to the south-west we passed over a sheet of schist with two\nstone huts at its foot containing brushwood and twigs for burning. In\nSamde-pu-pe were two small temples with altars of mud. In one of them\nwere idols of medium size and sea shells, and before them incense\nsmouldered, not in the usual form of sticks, but in powder. It was\nstrewn in a zigzag line, was lighted at one end, and allowed to smoulder\naway to the other. Within was a statue of Lovun with two lights before\nit, and a shelf with writings called Ch\u00f6na. Rain water had percolated in\nand formed white vertical channels in the plaster, and under the ceiling\n_kadakhs_ and draperies fluttered in the draught. Here the mice were\nless disturbed than in the ghostly castle Pesu.\n\nClose at hand at the foot of the mountain is the hermitage, _dupkang_,\nin which a hermit spends his days and years. It is built over a spring\nwhich bubbles up in the centre of the single room, a square apartment\nwith each side five paces long. The walls are very thick, and are in one\nsolid mass, unbroken by windows. The doorway is very low, and the wooden\ndoor is shut and locked; but that is not enough, so a wall of large\nblocks and smaller stones has been built before the door, and even the\nsmallest interstices between them have been carefully filled up with\npebbles. Not an inch of the door can be seen. But beside the entrance is\na tiny tunnel through which the hermit's food can be pushed in. The\namount of daylight which can penetrate through the long narrow loophole\nmust be very small; and it does not shine in direct, for the front of\nthe hut is shut in by a wall, forming a small court, which only the monk\nwho brings the anchorite his daily ration may enter. A small chimney\nrises from the flat roof, for the hermit may make himself tea every\nsixth day, and for this purpose some sticks of firewood are pushed\nthrough the loophole twice in the month. Through the chimney, too, a\nfeeble light may fall, and by means of these two vents the air is\nrenewed in the cell.\n\n\"What is the name of the lama who is now walled up in this cell?\" I\nasked.\n\n\"He has no name, and even if we knew it we durst not utter it. We call\nhim merely the Lama Rinpoche\" (according to K\u00f6ppen, lama means _quo nemo\nest superior_, one who has no one over him; and Rinpoche means gem,\njewel, holiness).\n\n\"Where has he come from?\"\n\n\"He was born in Ngor in Naktsang.\"\n\n\"Has he relations?\"\n\n\"That we do not know; and if he has any, they do not know that he is\nhere.\"\n\n\"How long has he lived in the darkness?\"\n\n\"It is now three years since he went in.\"\n\n\"And how long will he remain there?\"\n\n\"Until he dies.\"\n\n\"May he never come out again into the daylight before his death?\"\n\n\"No; he has taken the strictest of all oaths, namely, the sacred vow\nonly to leave the cell as a corpse.\"\n\n\"How old is he?\"\n\n\"We do not know his age, but he looked about forty.\"\n\n\"But what happens if he is ill? Cannot he get help?\"\n\n\"No; he may never speak to another human being. If he falls ill he must\nwait patiently till he is better again or dies.\"\n\n\"You never know, then, how he is?\"\n\n\"Not before his death. A bowl of _tsamba_ is pushed every day into the\nopening, and a piece of tea and a piece of butter every sixth day; this\nhe takes at night, and puts back the empty bowl to be filled for the\nnext meal. When we find the bowl untouched in the opening we know that\nthe immured man is unwell. If he has not touched the _tsamba_ the next\nday our fears increase; and if six days pass and the food is not taken,\nwe conclude he is dead and break open the entrance.\"\n\n\"Has that ever happened?\"\n\n\"Yes; three years ago a lama died, who had spent twelve years in there,\nand fifteen years ago one died who had lived forty years in solitude and\nentered the darkness at the age of twenty. No doubt the Bombo has heard\nin Tong of the lama who lived in the hermitage of the monastery\nLung-ganden-gompa for sixty-nine years, completely shut off from the\nworld and the light of day.\"\n\n\"But is it not possible that the prisoner may speak to the monk who\npushes the _tsamba_ dish into the loophole? There is no witness present\nto see that all is correct.\"\n\n\"That could never happen and is not allowed,\" answered my informant with\na smile; \"for the monk outside would be eternally damned were he to set\nhis mouth to the loophole and try to talk to the recluse, and the latter\nwould break the charm if he spoke from within. If the man in there were\nto speak now, the three years he has passed there already would not be\nput down to his credit, and he would not like that. If, however, a lama\nin Linga or Samde-puk falls ill, he may write his complaint and a\nrequest for the anchorite's intercession on a piece of paper, which is\nplaced in the _tsamba_ bowl and pushed into the opening. Then the\nrecluse prays for the sick man, and if the latter has faith in the power\nof prayer, and holds no unseemly conversation in the meantime, the\nintercession of the Lama Rinpoche takes effect after two days and the\npatient gets well again. On the other hand, the recluse never makes any\ncommunication in writing.\"\n\n\"We are now only a couple of paces from him. Does he not hear what we\nare saying, or, at least, that some one is talking outside his den?\"\n\n\"No, the sound of our voices cannot reach him, the walls are too thick;\nand even if it were the case, he would not notice it, for he is buried\nin contemplation. He no longer belongs to this world; he probably\ncrouches day and night in a corner, repeating prayers he knows by heart,\nor reading in the holy books he has with him.\"\n\n\"Then he must have enough light to read by?\"\n\n\"Yes, a small butter lamp stands on a shelf before two images, and its\nlight suffices him. When the lamp goes out it is pitch-dark inside.\"\n\nFilled with strange thoughts, I took leave of the monk and went slowly\ndown the path which the recluse had only passed along once in his life.\nBefore us was the splendid view which might never delight his eyes. When\nI had descended to the camp I could not look up the monastery valley\nwithout thinking of the unfortunate man sitting up there in his dark\nhole.\n\nPoor, nameless, unknown to any one, he came to Linga, where, he had\nheard, a cave-dwelling stood vacant, and informed the monks that he had\ntaken the vow to enter for ever into darkness. When his last day in this\nworld of vanity dawned, all the monks of Linga followed him in deep\nsilence, with the solemnity of a funeral, to his grave in the cave, and\nthe door was closed on him for the rest of his life. I could picture to\nmyself the remarkable procession, the monks in their red frocks, silent\nand grave, bending their bodies forward and turning their eyes to the\nground, and walking slowly step by step as though they would let the\nvictim enjoy the sun and light as long as possible. Were they inspired\nwith admiration of his tremendous fortitude, compared with which\neverything I can conceive, even dangers infallibly leading to death,\nseems to me insignificant? For, as far as I can judge, less fortitude is\nrequired when a hero, like Hiros\u00e9, blockades the entrance of Port\nArthur, knowing that the batteries above will annihilate him, than to\nallow oneself to be buried alive in the darkness for forty or sixty\nyears. In the former case the suffering is short, the glory eternal; in\nthe latter the victim is as unknown after death as in his lifetime, and\nthe torture is endless, and can only be borne by a patience of which we\ncan have no conception.\n\nNo doubt the monks escorted him with the same tenderness and the same\nsympathy as the priest feels when he attends a criminal to execution.\nBut what can have been his own feelings during this last progress in the\nworld. We all have to pass along this road, but we do not know when. But\nhe knew, and he knew that the sun would never again shine warmly on his\nshoulders and would never produce lights and shadows on the\nheaven-kissing mountains around the grave that awaited him.\n\nNow they have reached their destination and the door of the tomb stands\nopen. They enter in, spread a mat of interlaced strips of cloth in a\ncorner, set up the images of the gods, and lay the holy books in their\nplace; in one corner they place a wooden frame like those go-carts in\nwhich infants learn to walk, and which he will not use till death comes\nupon him. They take their seats and recite prayers, not the usual\nprayers for the dead, but others which deal with the glorified light\nand life of Nirvana. They rise, bid him farewell, go out and close the\ndoor. Now he is alone and will never hear the sound of a human voice\nexcept his own, and when he says his prayers no one will be there to\nhear him.\n\nWhat were his thoughts when the others had gone, and the short hollow\necho had died away of the noise he heard when the door was shut for the\nlast time, only to be opened again when he was a corpse? Perhaps\nsomething like what Fr\u00f6ding has expressed in his verse:\n\n Here breaks the soul from every bond\n That fetters to this life its pinion;\n Here starts the way to the dark beyond,\n The land of eternal oblivion.\n\nHe hears the brethren rolling the heavy stones to the door with levers,\npiling them up one on another in several layers, and filling up all\nchinks with smaller stones and fragments. It is not yet quite dark, for\nthere are crevices in the door, and daylight is still visible at the\nupper edge. But the wall rises. At length there is only a tiny opening\nthrough which the last beam falls into the interior of his tomb. Does he\nbecome desperate; does he jump up, thrust his hands against the door and\ntry to catch one more glimpse of the sun, which in another moment will\nvanish from his sight for ever? No one knows and no one will ever know;\nnot even the monks who were present and helped to block up the entrance\ncan answer this question. But he is but a man and he saw how a flagstone\nwas fitted over the hole through which a last ray of daylight fell; and\nnow he has darkness before him, and wherever he turns there is\nimpenetrable darkness.\n\nHe assumes that the other monks have gone down again to Samde-puk and\nLinga. How shall he pass the evening. He need not begin at once to read\nhis holy books; there is plenty of time for that, perhaps forty years.\nHe sits on the mat and leans his head against the wall. Now all his\nreminiscences come with great distinctness into his mind. He remembers\nthe gigantic characters in the quartzite, \"Om mani padme hum,\" and he\nmurmurs half dreaming the holy syllables, \"Oh! thou jewel in the lotus.\nAmen!\" But only a feeble echo answers him. He waits and listens, and\nthen hearkens to the voices of his memory. He wonders whether the first\nnight is falling, but it cannot be darker than it is already in his\nprison, his grave. Overcome by the travail of his soul, he sleeps, tired\nand weary, in his corner.\n\nWhen he awakes, he feels hungry, crawls to the opening and finds the\nbowl of _tsamba_ in the tunnel. With water from the spring he prepares\nhis meal, eats it, and, when he has finished, puts the bowl in the\nloophole again. Then he sits cross-legged, his rosary in his hands, and\nprays. One day he finds tea and butter in the bowl and some sticks\nbeside it. He feels about with his hands and finds the flint, and steel,\nand the tinder, and kindles a small fire under the tea-can. By the light\nof the flame he sees the interior of his den again, lights the lamp\nbefore the images, and begins to read his books; but the fire goes out\nand six days must pass before he gets tea again.\n\nThe days pass and now comes autumn with its heavy rains; he hears them\nnot, but the walls of his den seem to be moister than usual. It seems to\nhim a long time since he saw the sun and the daylight for the last time.\nAnd years slip by and his memory grows weak and hazy. He has read the\nbooks he brought with him again and again, and he cares no more for\nthem; he crouches in his corner and murmurs their contents, which he has\nlong known by heart. He lets the beads of his rosary slip through his\nfingers mechanically, and stretches out his hand for the _tsamba_ bowl\nunconsciously. He crawls along the walls feeling the cold stones with\nhis hands, if haply he may find a chink through which a ray of light can\npass. No, he hardly knows now what it is like outside on sunny paths.\nHow slowly time passes! Only in sleep does he forget his existence and\nescape from the hopelessness of the present. And he thinks: \"What is a\nshort earthly life in darkness compared to the glorious light of\neternity?\" The sojourn in darkness is only a preparation. Through days\nand nights and long years of solitude the pondering monk seeks the\nanswer to the riddle of life and the riddle of death, and clings to the\nbelief that he will live again in a glorified form of existence when his\nperiod of trial is over. It is faith alone which can explain his\ninconceivable fortitude of mind.\n\nIt is difficult to picture to oneself the changes through which the lama\npasses during successive decades in the darkness of his cell. His sight\nmust become weak, perhaps be extinguished altogether. His muscles\nshrink, his senses become more and more clouded. Longing for the light\ncannot pursue him as a fixed idea, for it is in his power to write down\nhis decision to curtail his time of trial, and return to the light, on\none of the leaves of his books with a splinter dipped in soot. He has\nonly to place such a paper in the empty _tsamba_ bowl. But the monks had\nnever known a case of the kind. They only knew that the lama who had\nbeen walled in for sixty-nine years had wished to see the sun again\nbefore he died. I had heard from monks who were in Tong at the time that\nhe had written down his wish to be let out. He was all bent up together\nand as small as a child, and his body was nothing but a light-grey\nparchment-like skin and bones. His eyes had lost their colour, were\nquite bright and blind. His hair hung round his head in uncombed matted\nlocks and was pure white. His body was covered only by a rag, for time\nhad eaten away his clothing and he had received no new garments. He had\na thin unkempt beard, and had never washed himself all the time or cut\nhis nails. Of the monks who sixty-nine years before had conducted him to\nhis cell, not one survived. He was then quite young himself, but all his\ncontemporaries had been removed by death, and new generations of monks\nhad passed through the cloisters; he was a complete stranger to them\nall. And he had scarcely been carried out into the sunlight when he too\ngave up the ghost.\n\nIn analysing the state of such a soul, fancy has free play, for we know\nnothing about it. Waddell and Landon, who took part in Younghusband's\nexpedition to Lhasa, and visited the hermits' caves at Nyang-t\u00f6-ki-pu,\nsay that the monks who have there retired into perpetual darkness first\nunderwent shorter experiences of isolation, the first lasting six\nmonths, and the second three years and ninety-three days, and that those\nwho had passed through the second period of trial showed signs that they\nwere intellectually inferior to other monks. The cases which the two\nEnglishmen have described seem not to have been so severe a trial as the\none I saw and heard about in Linga, for in the Nyang-t\u00f6-ki-pu caves the\nlama who waited on the recluse tapped on a stone slab which closed the\nsmall opening, and at this signal the immured lama put his hand out of\nthis door for his food; he immediately drew the stone shutter to again,\nbut in this way he would at least see the light of the sun for a moment\nevery day. In the cases described by Waddell and Landon the immured\nmonks had passed some twenty years in confinement. Waddell, who has a\nthorough knowledge of Lamaism, believes that the custom of seclusion for\nlife is only an imitation of the practice of pure Indian Buddhism, which\nenjoins periodical retreats from the world for the purpose of\nself-examination and of acquiring greater clearness in abstruse\nquestions. In his opinion the Tibetans have made an end of the means.\n\nUndoubtedly this opinion is correct, but it is not exhaustive. It may be\nthat the future hermit has in religious delusion come to the decision to\nallow himself to be buried alive. But does he clearly conceive what this\nmeans? If he became dull and insensible like an animal in his cell, all\nhis energy and his power of will would be deadened, and what seemed to\nhim, when he entered, to be worth striving for, would gradually become\nmore and more indifferent to him. But this is not the case, for he\nadheres firmly to his decision, and therefore his energy must remain\nunimpaired. He must possess a steadfast faith, an immovable conviction,\nwhich is exposed to a harder trial because he is alone and death alone\ncan visit him in his cave. Possibly he becomes by degrees a victim of\nself-delusion, so that his longing for the last hour in the long night\nof his den gives place to the feeling that he is always at the moment\nwhen the hour-glass of time has run down. He must have lost all idea of\ntime, and the darkness of the grave appears to him only as a second in\neternity. For the means he formerly had of marking the flight of time\nand impressing it on his memory no longer exist. The changes from winter\nto summer, from day to night, are only made known to him by the rise or\nfall of the temperature in his den. He remembers that several rainy\nseasons have passed by, and perhaps they seem to him to follow closely\non one another while his brain is clouded by monotony. It is\ninconceivable that he does not become insane, that he does not call out\nfor the light, that he does not jump up and run his head against the\nwall in the agony of despair, or beat it against the sharp edges of the\nstones till he bleeds to death and frees himself by committing suicide.\n\nBut he waits patiently for death, and death may delay its coming for ten\nor twenty years. His remembrance of the world and life outside his cell\nbecomes fainter and fainter; he has long forgotten the dawn in the east\nand the golden clouds of sunset; and when he looks up his dimmed eyes\nperceive no stars twinkling in the night, only the black ceiling of his\ncave. At last, however, after long years have passed in the darkness,\nsuddenly a great brilliancy flashes out--that is, when Death comes,\ntakes him by the hand, and leads him out. And Death has not to wait,\nentreat, and coax, for the lama has waited and longed for his welcome\nand only guest and deliverer. If he has had his mind still clear, he has\ntaken the little wooden stand under his arms so that he may die in the\nsame sacred position in which Buddha is represented in all the thousands\nof statues and pictures which have come under our notice in our\nwanderings through the cloister temples of Tibet.\n\nWhen the _tsamba_ bowl, which has been filled daily for so many long\nyears, remains at last untouched and the six days have expired, the cave\nis opened and the abbot of the monastery sits down beside the deceased\nand prays for him, while all the other monks pray in the _dukang_ hall\nfor five or six days together. Then the body is wrapped in a white\ngarment, a covering called _ringa_ is placed on his head, and he is\nburned on a pyre. The ashes are collected, kneaded together with clay,\nand moulded into a small pyramid, which is deposited in a _chhorten_.\n\n\nThe Linga monks said that an ordinary lama, when he dies, is cut in\npieces and abandoned to the birds. This process is performed here by\nfive lamas, who, though they belong to the monastery, attend the service\nin the _dukang_, and drink tea with the other monks, are still\nconsidered unclean, and may not eat with the other brethren. Also when\nnomads die in the neighbourhood, their services are required, but then\nthe relatives are bound to provide them with horses and to undertake\nthat the property of the deceased shall pass into the possession of the\nmonastery.\n\nFor days and weeks I could not drive away the picture I had formed in my\nmind of the Lama Rinpoche, before whose cell we had stood and talked.\nAnd still less could I forget his predecessor, who had lived there forty\nyears. I fancied I could hear the conch which summoned the monks to the\nfuneral mass of the departed. I pictured to myself the scene in the cave\nwhere the lama, crouching in rags on the floor, stretches out his\nwithered hands to Death, who, kindly smiling like the skull masks in the\ntemples, gives him one hand while he holds a brightly burning lamp in\nthe other. The features of the monk are transfigured in a reflexion of\nNirvana, and forgetting the \"Om mani padme hum\" that for tens of years\nhas reverberated from the walls of his den, he raises, as the trumpet\nblasts sound out from the temple roof, a song of victory, which calls to\nmind the following strophe from the myths of another people (_Frithiof's\nSaga_, Blackley's translation):\n\n Hail, ye deities bright!\n Ye Valhalla sons!\n Earth fadeth away; to the heavenly feast\n Glad trumpets invite\n Me, and blessedness crowns,\n As fair, as with gold helm, your hastening guest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI\n\nOVER THE CHANG-LA-POD-LA\n\n\nWe had stayed three days near the monastery Linga, when we went on\nnorth-westwards on April 17 up the narrow My-chu valley, in which the\nvolume of water was now considerably diminished. Space does not permit\nme to describe in detail this wonderful road and its wild beauty. From\nthe expansion of the valley at Linga routes run eastwards and westwards\ninto the mountains, with branches to numerous villages, of which I noted\ndown the names and approximate positions. The traffic is now much less,\nbut still numerous _manis_ and other religious symbols stand beside the\nsolitary path.\n\nWe ride along the steep slopes of the right bank; below us the river\nforms rapids, and the way is dangerous, especially with a horse that is\nnot sure on its feet. Robert's small bay filly stumbled and fell, so\nthat the rider was thrown headlong to the ground. Had he rolled down the\nslope he would have been lost; but fortunately he fell towards the\nmountain.\n\nWe encamped in the village Langmar, consisting of a few scattered\nhouses, at the entrance of the small side valley Langmar-pu.\n\n[Illustration: 190. HERMIT'S GROTTO NEAR THE CHANG-LA-POD-LA.]\n\nWe still have hired horses, and now yaks also, and the caravan is\ndivided into the same detachments as before. Sonam Tsering and Guffaru\ncommand their sections. Tsering's party sets out last and is the last to\ncome to rest, and Muhamed Isa supervises the whole. In the evening he is\nmassaged by two men selected for the purpose, of whom Rehim Ali is one.\nThere is still _chang_, the harmless, but still intoxicating, beer.\nAmong the singers at the camp-fires, Tsering, as usual, deserves the\nfirst prize. He gives me no end of amusement; he sings like a cow, or at\nbest like a burst temple drum. His voice cracks continually, and he\nloses the time and the melody without being the least put out. But he\nconsiders his singing very fine, and the others take pleasure in it; one\ncan tell from a distance that the tears are coming into his eyes.\nSometimes he pauses to explain the subject of the ballad and take a\ndrink, and then he goes on again. When all the others are asleep, and\nall is so quiet in the camp that the rushing of the stream is audible\nand from time to time the bark of a dog, Tsering's rough voice trilling\nharshly still resounds among the mountains.\n\nNext day we draw near to the main crest of the Trans-Himalaya, for to my\ngreat surprise and delight we have been conducted in this direction.\nGranite still predominates, and in it erosion has excavated the wild\nforms of the valleys; the way is tolerably good, but very stony; small\nstrips of ice lie along both banks of the stream, within which the\nbright green water fills the valley with the roar of its impetuosity.\nThe dark green of a kind of juniper called _pama_ is a relief to the\neyes, which otherwise perceive nothing but grey slopes of detritus.\n\nThe river here is named Langmar-tsangpo, but it is really only the upper\ncourse of the My-chu. It is formed by the Ke-tsangpo coming from the\nnorth and the Govo-tsangpo from the west. The former, called in its\nupper course Ogorung-tsangpo, descends from the main watershed of the\nTrans-Himalaya, and must therefore be considered the main stream. I was\ntold that its source may be reached in a day and a half from the\njunction of the valleys. On the left bank of the Govo a thicket of\n_pama_ shrubs grows, and a safe bridge of three arches spans the river.\nOver this bridge runs the important trade route to Tok-jalung which I\nhave mentioned above. Herds of yaks and flocks of sheep graze on the\nslopes, and circular penfolds remind us of our life in the Chang-tang. A\nlittle farther up we cross the Govo, which is half frozen over; springs\nand brooks from the side valleys adorn the scene with cascades of ice.\nThe river is said to be here so swollen in summer that it cannot be\ncrossed at any point. To the north and south snowy mountains are\nvisible.\n\nIn the village of Govo, consisting of seven stone houses, barley is\ncultivated and yields a moderate crop; but the inhabitants are not\ndependent on the harvest, for they also possess sheep, goats, and yaks,\nwith which they migrate northwards in summer. Govo is the last village\nwhere agriculture is pursued, so we here find ourselves on the boundary\nbetween tillage and grazing, and also between stone houses and black\ntents (Illust. 182).\n\nWe have, then, still time to look into an ordinary Tibetan stone hut\nbelonging to a family in comfortable circumstances. The walls are built\nof untrimmed bare stones, but the crevices are stopped with earth to\nkeep out the wind. Through a labyrinth of walls and over round stones\nwhere the tripping foot seldom touches the ground we come to two yards\nwhere goats and calves are kept. In a third is a loom, at which a\nhalf-naked coppery-brown woman is working, and in a fourth sits an old\nman engaged in cutting up _pama_ shrubs.\n\nFrom this yard we entered a half-dark room, with a floor of mud, and two\nopenings in the roof, through which the smoke escapes and the daylight\nenters. The roof consists of beams overlaid with a thatch of brushwood,\nwhich is covered all over with soil and flat stones--it must be nice and\ndry when it rains. There sat an elderly woman telling off her _manis_ on\na rosary of porcelain beads.\n\nThe next room is the kitchen, the general living-room and the principal\napartment of the house. At a projecting wall stands the stone\ncooking-range with round black-edged holes for saucepans and teapots of\nbaked clay. A large earthen pot, standing on the fire, contains barley,\nwhich is eaten parched; a stick with a stiff piece of leather at the end\nis twirled round in the barley between the palms so that it may be\nroasted equally. It tastes delicious.\n\nI went about, turned over all the household utensils and made an\ninventory, and not in Swedish only, but also in Tibetan. There were many\ndifferent vessels of iron, clay, and wood for all kinds of purposes, a\nlarge wooden ladle, a tea sieve of sheet-iron, an iron spoon, an ash\nshovel, iron fire-tongs, and a thing called a _thagma_, an iron blade\nfitted into a piece of wood, something like a closed pocket-knife, and\nused to dress newly woven material. A large clay jug was filled with\n_chang_. A small cubical vessel divided into four by small cross pieces\nof wood is used to measure corn. Brick-tea is pulverized with a stone\nshaped like a cucumber in a deep wooden cup. A knife-blade with a haft\nat either end is used in preparing and tawing hides. Under one of the\nsmoke vents stood a small hearth for an open fire with an iron tripod. A\nlarge leathern sack was filled with _tsamba_, and two sheep's stomachs\nheld fat and butter. On a rack a quantity of sheep's trotters, dusty and\ndirty, were arranged; when they are several months old they are used to\nmake soup, which is thickened with _tsamba_. Tea, salt, and tobacco are\nkept in large and small bags.\n\nWe saw likewise all kinds of religious objects, votive bowls,\njoss-sticks, and small image cases; also bales of home-woven textiles,\ncoloured ribands for sewing on skin coats and boots, knives, hatchets,\nsabres and spears, which, we were told, are for fighting thieves and\nrobbers; a pair of bellows, two sacks of dry dung for fuel, baskets,\nhand-mills for grinding barley, consisting of two round flat stones with\na handle on the upper one; lastly, an oil-lamp and an oil-can, and a\ncylindrical tub with iron hoops full of water. In a corner lay heaps of\nskins and garments, and against the wall were two sleeping-places still\nin disorder.\n\nIn another store-room there were provisions in sacks, barley, green\nfodder, peas, and great joints of meat. Here three young women and a\ntroop of children had taken refuge; we left them room to escape, and\nthey ran away screaming loudly as if all the knives in the house were at\ntheir throats. In the room were balances for weighing, consisting of a\nrounded staff with a stone weight at one end and a dried yak hide at\nthe other. Behind a partition straw was kept. There are high\ninconvenient thresholds between the rooms, and the usual bundles of rods\non the roof to protect the house from evil spirits.\n\nAfter this expedition we inspected the tents of our escort, where a fire\nwas burning in a broken clay pot, and a skillet stood over it on a\ntripod. The smoke escapes through the long slit between the two halves\nof which the tent is composed. The owners of the tent were writing their\nreport to the authorities in Shigatse, informing them that we were on\nthe right road. At the same time they were eating their dinner of\nmutton, a year old, dry and hard; it must not come near the fire. One of\nthem cut it into strips and distributed it among his comrades. He had\nbeen for twenty years a lama in the monastery Lung-ganden in Tong, but a\nfew years before had been ejected from the confraternity because he had\nfallen in love with a woman. He spoke of it himself, so it was doubtless\ntrue.\n\nRobert's bay horse was reported dead on the morning of April 20. His\nlate tumble now seemed to us like an omen; though fat and sleek, he died\nsuddenly about midnight. We now ride on again towards higher regions\nover uncomfortable blocks of stone, but the valley becomes more open and\nthe relative heights diminish. Though the little that is left of the\nstream still swirls and foams, the ice becomes thicker, and at last\ncovers almost all the bed, and the water is heard rushing and murmuring\nunder it. Juicy moss skirts the banks, the view becomes more extensive,\nand the whole character of the landscape becomes alpine. We saw ten men\nwith guns in a sheepfold, carrying gun-rests with yellow and red\npennants on one of the prongs; perhaps they were highway robbers. Dark\nclouds sweep over the ridges, and in a minute we are in the midst of\nicy-cold drifting snow, but it does not last long.\n\nThe last bit of road was awful, nothing but boulders and d\u00e9bris, which\nwe could sometimes avoid by riding over the ice of the river. The\ncamping-ground was called Chomo-sumdo, a valley fork in a desolate\nregion, but the escort had seen that some straw and barley were brought\nup on yaks for our horses.\n\nFrom here we had to ride on the ice, smooth and firm after 27 degrees of\nfrost in the night. The neighbourhood is not, however, uninhabited, for\nyaks and sheep were seen grazing in many places, belonging to nomads\nmigrating northwards or merchants coming from Tok-jalung. At two black\ntents the people were packing up for the day's march; they had goats,\nwith strips of red cloth bound round the ears.\n\nA little farther up is a precipitous rock on the right side of the\nvalley, and two caves open their black mouths in the wall. The lower one\n(Illust. 190) is the entrance to a passage leading to the upper, where a\nfamous hermit has fixed his solitary abode. The upper opening has a\npartly natural balcony decorated with streamer-poles and ribands. Below\nthe lower stand _mani_ cairns, long garlands of string with coloured\nprayer-strips, a prayer-mast, and a metal idol in a niche of the rock.\n\nWe tethered our horses at the edge of the ice and went up to the lower\ngrotto. Here two young nuns from Kirong (on the border of Nepal) met us,\nand two mendicant monks from Nepal, one of whom spoke Hindustani, so\nthat Robert could converse with him. The nuns were pretty, well-grown,\nsun-burnt, and somewhat like gypsies; their large black eyes had the\nshimmer of velvet, and their black hair was parted on the forehead and\nfell in luxuriant waves over their shoulders; they were clothed in red\nrags and wore Tibetan boots adorned with red ribands. They spoke\ncheerfully and pleasantly in strikingly soft, extremely sympathetic\nvoices, and were not in the least timid. Their simple dwelling, which we\nsaw, was in the great entrance of the grotto, under a smoke-blackened\nvault, surrounded by a small wall and a palisade of _pama_ branches, and\npartly hung with cloth. A sleeping-place was made of rugs of interwoven\nstrips of cloth, and a tea-kettle was boiling on the fire. One of the\nmen had a thick pigtail and a red lama frock; the other wore a\nsheepskin, and had not had his hair cut in the present, twentieth,\ncentury. The dwelling proper was situated in a higher part of the\ncavern.\n\nAll four had come in autumn, and were waiting for the warmer season to\nproceed to Lhasa, and return thence home again. In the meantime they\nvoluntarily waited on the two holy hermits sojourning in this mountain,\nand thereby earned their living and gained merit, according to the ideas\nof their order. When they go off again on their wanderings, other\nserving brethren and sisters will be found ready to take their place.\n\nA winding staircase on the left, partly natural and partly constructed\nof flagstones, leads to the upper regions of the cavern. At first it is\ndark, but becomes lighter as we approach a loophole in the rock. Here\nand there are streamer-poles, and the holy syllables are incised. From\nthe loophole the staircase turns steeply to the right; if we slipped on\nthe smooth stone we should tumble down right into the nuns' kitchen,\nwhich from here looks like the bottom of a well. The passage ends at a\npoint where a small stone staircase goes up to a trap-door covered with\na slab. Pushing aside the slab, one reaches the larger grotto chamber of\nwhich we had seen the opening from the valley. But the serving brothers\nand sisters would not take us so high.\n\nIn this upper grotto, Choma-taka, the 100-years-old hermit, Gunsang\nNgurbu, of high repute in all the country for his holiness, has dwelt\nfor seven years. Gunsang means hermit, and Ngurbu is a very common name\nsignifying precious stone. Every seventh day his attendants place\n_tsamba_, water, tea, and fuel on the steps under the trap-door, and\nthese things are taken in by the old man, who may not speak with men,\nbut only with the gods. Through a hole under the slab I caught sight of\na _chhorten_ constructed of stones and mud, and some painted pictures of\ngods on the wall of the grotto. Behind the _chhorten_, and unfortunately\nout of sight, the old man sat in a niche in the wall, crouching down and\nsaying his prayers; now and then he blows a shell horn.\n\n[Illustration: 191. ROBERT AND RABSANG BY THE ICE ON THE WAY TO THE\nCHANG-LA-POD-LA.]\n\n[Illustration: 192. A LHADSE DECKED WITH MANI-STONES AND\nPRAYER-STREAMERS.\n\n (N.W. of the Kore-la.)]\n\n\nI wished to push aside the shutter and mount into the upper grotto, but\nthe consciences of my companions would not permit such a thing for\nall the money in the world. It would disturb the old man in his\nmeditations, and interrupt the period of his seclusion, and, moreover,\nthe old man would throw stones at us. The life of the hermit Ngurbu must\nbe idyllic compared to that of the immured Linga monks, for he sees the\nvalley, the sun, the whirling snow, and the stars sparkling in the sky;\nbut he must suffer from ennui. In another grotto, side by side with\nNgurbu's, lives another hermit, but the two have never met and know\nnothing of one another. They may eat no meat, only _tsamba_ and tea, and\nthey receive these from the neighbouring nomads and the travellers\npassing along the road.\n\nAfter this digression we cross the ice of the river again and pass up\nover the ever-present detritus. Before us is the flattish saddle of the\nChang-la-Pod-la. We accomplish the ascent with great effort, the icy\nwind blowing right in our faces. I cannot commence my observations at\nthe cairn till I have warmed my hands over a dung fire. The view is\nlimited, flat, and of little use for orientation. However, towards the\nway we have come, we can see the deeply eroded valleys, and we seem to\nbe higher than the ridges enclosing them. The height is 18,284 feet.\nChang signifies north, north country; Pod or P\u00f6, Tibet, _i.e._ Tibet\nproper, chiefly inhabited by a settled population. Chang-la-Pod-la is,\nthen, the pass between the northern tableland of the nomads and the\ncountry to the south having drainage to the sea. It is this property of\na boundary between these two regions which renders the Trans-Himalaya of\nsuch prime importance, and therefore there are many passes called\nChang-la-Pod-la. Often and often I was told that a pass, whatever might\nbe its especial name, was a Chang-la-Pod-la when it lay on the watershed\nbetween the inland drainage of the north and the river basin of the\nTsangpo in the south. I had then crossed the Trans-Himalaya a second\ntime by a pass lying 44 miles to the west of the Sela-la, and had been\nable to ascertain that the huge range of the Nien-chen-tang-la extends\nthus far. It was still more my earnest desire to follow it step by step\nto the west.\n\nAfter we had encamped on the pass, where the thermometer fell at night\nto -9\u00bd\u00b0, we rode on April 22 slowly down the valley of the Shak-chu\nriver, which gradually becomes broader, and is begirt by flat rounded\nmountains, in which rock _in situ_ seldom occurs. We have passed from\nthe maze of mountains intersected by the affluents of the My-chu,\nabundantly fed by the rains, on to the wide plains of the plateau\ncountry, and notice again that the Trans-Himalaya is also an\nextraordinarily important climatological boundary.\n\nThe Lapsen-Tari is a heap of clods with a sheaf of rods stuck in the\nmiddle, from which streamer strings are carried to other rods. From this\npoint there is a fine view over the plateau and its wreath of mountains.\nTo the north, 55\u00b0 west, we see the Targo-gangri again, but more\nmajestic, more isolated, and more dominant than from the Ngangtse-tso,\nwhere, shrouded in clouds and surrounded by other mountains, it was less\nconspicuous.\n\nJust at the mound we passed the last corner which obscured the view, and\nsuddenly the whole grand mountain appeared in its dazzling whiteness,\nshining like a lighthouse over the sea of the plateau, in a mantle of\nfirn fields and blue glistening ice, and rising bold and sharply against\nthe sky of purest azure blue. The mound is therefore placed where the\ntraveller coming from Shigatse first comes in sight of the holy\nmountain. Our guides bared their heads and murmured prayers. Two\npilgrims, whom we had seen at the grotto of the hermits, lighted a fire\nand threw into it a scented powder, an offering of incense to the gods\nof Targo-gangri. South and south-west runs a lofty range, of uniform\nheight, with patches of snow glittering in the sun on its\nbrownish-purple summit--another part of the Trans-Himalaya.\n\nAs we sat here a trading caravan came along the road to Penla-buk, which\nlies on the west side of the Dangra-yum-tso, and is a rendezvous for\ngold-prospectors and wool-dealers. Our tents formed a little village on\nthe Kyangdam plain, where wild asses abound, and some sixty nomads of\nthe neighbourhood encamped around it.\n\nIn the evening the escort from Ghe presented themselves to inform me\nthat as we were now in the Largep district, subject to the Labrang, they\nwould return home and consign us to a new guard. The latter consisted of\nfive men far advanced in life. Their leader was a small grey-headed man\nwith trembling hands and very indistinct enunciation. When the Ghe men,\nwho longed to return to their warmer villages, had gone off next morning\nin spite of a violent storm, I had a serious talk with the new men. They\nintended to lead us over the pass Sha-la (Trans-Himalaya) in the\nsouth-west, where the Targo-tsangpo rises, on the banks of which we had\npassed the day. According to Nain Sing's map this river flows round the\neast side of Targo-gangri, and then enters the Dangra-tso, as the holy\nlake is called here. But Nain Sing was never there, and I wished to gain\nan insight into the geography of the country. So we came to an agreement\nthat we should travel north-westwards; and I pointed out to the men that\nRaga-tasam was put down in our passport as the next place; that two\nroads led thither, one over the Sha-la, the other deviating northwards\nto the Targo-gangri, and that I had chosen the latter. The passport\nprohibited us from visiting Lhasa, Gyangtse, and the monastery\nSekiya-gompa, but contained not a single word about the road to the\nDangra-yum-tso. They ought then to comply with my wishes. The old man\nhesitated, pondered awhile, and summoned his followers to a council. His\ntent was soon full of black, bare-headed men in grey sheepskins. Then\nthe consultation was adjourned to Muhamed Isa's tent. After some\nconsideration they agreed to my proposals, on the condition that I\nshould pay them a whole _tenga_ per day for each yak instead of half a\n_tenga_. I rejoiced at the hope of seeing the holy mountain coming\ncloser and closer, and its finer details becoming more conspicuous, of\nbeholding it in cloud and sunshine, disappearing behind the hills and\npeeping out again like a man-of-war in a rough sea with high white waves\nround the bow, or, more correctly, like a ship under full sail on the\nsea of the plateau. Of course I exposed myself to annoyances by ignoring\nthe passport, but geographical discoveries were concerned and all\nconsiderations must be set aside.\n\nOn Vega day, April 24, we had a strong wind in our faces, it was cold,\nand Targo-gangri partly disappeared behind the clouds. Escorted by the\nold gentleman and four horsemen who were as much alike as if they had\nbeen cast in the same mould, and who had all matchlocks on their backs,\nI rode along the bank of the Targo-tsangpo in the contracting valley\nwhich slopes with an extremely gentle gradient, imperceptible to the\neye, to the lake. At last the valley becomes so narrow that the ice\nfills all its bottom. The road therefore leaves the river on the left,\nand passes over flat hills, among which we cross a succession of small\naffluents. Black tents, tame yaks grazing, stone folds for sheep, wild\nasses, and millions of field mice recall to mind the Chang-tang. The\nwild yak, however, does not occur in this country. The feathered kingdom\nis represented by ravens, wild ducks, and occasionally a small bird.\nWhen we came to the Bumnak-chu, a right-hand tributary of the\nTargo-tsangpo, a large number of men came to meet us, saluting with the\ntongue, and gazing at us cheerfully and good-temperedly with their long\nblack unkempt hair, their small grey skins, and their torn boots.\n\nOn April 25 we rode over the Ting-la pass; at its foot is a _mani_ in\ngood preservation, with a yak skull as ornament, a form of prayer being\nincised in the frontal bone between the horns. From the top of the pass\nTargo-gangri is seen expanded into a row of peaks covered with snow. The\nwhole region is like a sea with a strong swell on, and the Targo-gangri\nis as white foaming surf on the coast. A little later the summits of the\nmass stood clearly out white on a background of bluish-black clouds; the\nhighest two, twin peaks, had the form of a Tibetan tent on two poles.\n\nOur camp in the Kokbo valley contained not fewer than eleven tents, for\nnow we had about forty companions of all ages, and at least a hundred\nyaks. The loads were transferred to other yaks on the march to spare the\nanimals. When the caravan moves over the rounded hills it is like a\nnomad tribe on the march. Most of our Tibetans ride yaks or horses.\n\nWe had made a short march, and plenty of time was left for me to go\nabout, make a visit to each tent, and see how the men were getting on.\nThey were all drinking tea and eating _tsamba_, their greatest pleasure\nin life. The dung fire burns in the middle, and the form of the tent\ncertainly is the cause of the draught which prevents smoke from\ncollecting inside. Round about stand kettles, teapots, and wooden cups.\nA huge quantity of provisions lies at the sides. Saddles and harness are\ndeposited in a row before the tent. When I enter, all rise, but I beg\nthem to sit down again and go on eating, while I take a seat on a barley\nsack at the door of the tent. All have the right arm bare, and many both\narms; when they let their sheepskins fall down their backs the whole\nbody is naked down to the waist. They are copper-brown and covered with\na layer of dirt, but well-grown, powerful, manly, and in good\nproportion. The cook of the tent community pours out tea for all, and\nthen each one brings out his own bag and takes out a pinch of _tsamba_\nto sprinkle into his tea. They eat meat either raw or boiled in a pot.\nThey are all quiet and orderly, no angry words are heard, no quarrelling\nand shouting, they are all the best of friends, and make themselves\ncomfortable after their day's march, talking and laughing together.\nTheir wigs are dust-traps and make them look like Indians. Most of them\nwear a pigtail, consisting mostly of plaited threads with white bone\nrings and small silver image boxes which have a couple of turquoises\ninlaid in the lid. Some have the pigtail wound round the head, forming a\nsingular crown, the diadem of the wilderness.\n\nIn another tent the dinner was finished and the \"covers\" were empty.\nThere a man sat with an awl, cobbling a torn boot; another sewed the\ngirths of his saddle on firmly; and a third lay on his back, with legs\ncrossed and an arm supporting his head, and took his after-dinner nap.\nSeen from above he makes a very absurd figure with his huge nostrils,\ninto which mice might easily walk in mistake for their holes. A smirking\nyouth is smoking his pipe, while his neighbour busily and carefully\nsearches for suspected lodgers in his sheepskin.\n\nI drew several of them without exciting the least uneasiness; on the\ncontrary, they made a joke of the sitting, and laughed heartily when\nthey saw their counterfeits, which they embellished with prints of their\nbuttery fingers on the margin. They asked me why I drew them, and for\nwhat purpose I wished to know their names and ages. They were all\nsympathetic, polite, and friendly, and I enjoyed their society (Illusts.\n193, 194).\n\nA begging lama, too, looked in; he was on the way to Kailas, and was\nquickly sketched, to the intense amusement of the other men. He bore a\nlance with a black tassel and red strips, a timbrel, an antelope horn to\nprotect himself against snappy dogs, and a trombone of human bone, which\nhe set in a corner of his mouth when he blew it. It caused him much\namusement to be the object of universal attention, and he took advantage\nof it to make acquaintance with the nomads with a view to an appeal to\ntheir liberality (Illust. 195).\n\n[Illustration: 193, 194. NOMADS SOUTH OF TARGO-GANGRI.]\n\n[Illustration: 195. MENDICANT LAMA BLOWING ON A HUMAN BONE.]\n\n[Illustration: 196. TIBETAN BOY.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII\n\nTARGO-GANGRI AND THE SHURU-TSO\n\n\nHitherto we had experienced no difficulties, but at Kokbo the state of\naffairs seemed disquieting. Our old man informed me that he had sent a\nmessage to the nomads at the Targo-gangri mountain, asking them to hold\nyaks in readiness. They had answered that they could not think of\nserving a European without express orders, and that they would resort to\nforce if our present guards led us to the lake. The old man, however,\nwas not put out, but believed that he could soon bring them to their\nsenses.\n\nOn April 26 we march north-westwards in a sharp wind over the pass\nTarbung-la. The sacred mountain exhibits all the beauty of its sixteen\npeaks, and north, 33\u00b0 west, is seen the gap where we expect to find the\nDangra-yum-tso. The view is of immense extent. The valley widens out and\npasses into that of the Targo-tsangpo. Four antelopes spring lightly\nover the slopes; black tents are not to be seen.\n\nWhen we again reach more open ground, one of the most magnificent views\nI have seen in this part of Tibet opens out to the west-south-west, a\ngigantic range of uniform height, with snow-covered pinnacles and short\nglaciers between, which is scarcely inferior to Targo-gangri in imposing\nbeauty and massiveness. The chain is bluish black below the snowy\npoints; at its foot lies a lake unknown to us, the Shuru-tso. The\njourney to the Ngangtse-tso north-north-east by the way of the\nShangbuk-la pass is reckoned as only three days' march. On the eastern\nflank of Targo-gangri five glaciers are deeply embedded, while to the\neast of the mountain the flat open valley of the Targo-tsangpo comes\ninto sight, which we gradually approach, passing over five clearly\ndefined terraces, relics of a time when the Dangra-yum-tso was much\nlarger than now. Two wolves make off in front of us, and the old man\ngallops after them, but turns back when they stop as if to wait for him.\n\"If I had had a knife or a gun,\" he says, \"I would have killed them\nboth.\"\n\nAt length we descend to the valley of the Targo-tsangpo down a bold\nterrace with two ledges, and here the river is divided into several\narms, and wild ducks and geese swarm. Brushwood grows on the banks. On\nthe right bank lies our camp, No. 150, not far from the foot of the\nmajestic Targo-gangri (Illust. 198).\n\nThus far we were to come, but no farther. Here a troop of twenty\nhorsemen armed to the teeth awaited us, who had been sent by the\nGovernor of Naktsang from Shansa-dzong, with orders to stop us \"in case\nwe should attempt to advance to the holy lake.\" This time they had kept\na sharper watch, and had anticipated that I would take all kinds of\nliberties. They had left Shansa-dzong fifteen days before, and had been\ncamping here three days, awaiting our arrival. If we had hurried we\nshould have been before them again. One of the two leaders was the same\nLundup Tsering who, as he told me himself, had stopped Dutreuil de Rhins\nand Grenard, and had been in January with Hlaje Tsering at the\nNgangste-tso. He informed me that Hlaje Tsering was still in office, but\nhad had much trouble because of us, and had been obliged to pay a fine\nof sixty _yambaus_ (about \u00a3675) to the Devashung. When I remarked that\nHlaje Tsering had told me himself that he was so poor that he had\nnothing left to lose, Lundup answered that he had extorted the money\nfrom his subordinates. All, too, who had sold us yaks and served us as\nguides had been heavily fined. The next European who attempted to get\nthrough without a passport would have no end of difficulties to contend\nwith (Illust. 200).\n\n[Illustration: 197. KUBI-GANGRI FROM CAMP 201. S. 19\u00b0 E., Ngomo-dingding\n(1), with the Ngomo-dingding Glacier below. S. 2\u00b0 W., Absi (2), with the\nAbsi Glacier, S. 21\u00b0-35\u00b0 W., the Massive of Mukchung-simo (3).]\n\n[Illustration: 198. TARGO-GANGRI FROM A HILL NEAR CAMP 150. N. 32\u00b0 W.,\nSershik-gompa (4). N. 26\u00b0-13\u00b0 W., the Dangra-yum-tso (5) in the\ndistance.]\n\n[Illustration: 199. THE CHOMO-UCHONG GROUP FROM THE KINCHEN-LA, MAY 23,\n1907 (cf. Illustration 212).\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nLundup pointed to a red granite promontory, 200 yards north of our camp,\nand said: \"There is the boundary between the Labrang (Tashi-lunpo) and\nNaktsang (Lhasa). So far we can let you go, but not a step farther;\nif you attempt it, we have orders to fire on you.\"\n\nThey read the passport from Shigatse, and affirmed that the words\ntherein, \"on the direct way to Ladak,\" did not mean that we had\npermission to make all sorts of detours, and, above all, we might not go\nto the Dangra-yum-tso, which is holy and is in the territory of Lhasa.\nGaw Daloi had given orders that he should be informed daily which way we\nwere travelling. If they did not obey this order they would lose their\nheads. It was evident, then, that I should have to give up the\nDangra-yum-tso for the third time, and just when I was only two short\ndays' march from it.\n\nThe outline of the mountain stood out sharp and white in the moonshine\nagainst the blue-black starry sky. The next day there was a storm, and\nnot even the foot of Targo-gangri was visible, much less the icy-cold\nheights where the winds sing their heavenly choruses among the firn\nfields. In the evening, however, when the weather had cleared, the whole\nmass stood clearly out, covered with freshly fallen snow.\n\nAgain we held a long palaver with the horsemen from Naktsang. I told\nthem that I would not leave this camp till I had at least seen the lake\nfrom a distance. To my delight they replied that though they were\nobliged, much against their inclination, to cause me the disappointment\nof not visiting the lake, they would not prevent me from seeing it from\na distance, but that they would keep a good watch lest I should ride off\nbehind yonder red mountain to the north.\n\nThey had scarcely gone when our old Kyangdam guide came to complain that\nthe horsemen from Naktsang had threatened his life because he had\nbrought me here. I sent for the Naktsang men again and impressed on them\nstrongly that they had no cause of complaint against my escort, for it\nwas entirely my fault that we were here. They promised that they would\nnot again treat the Kyangdam men harshly, as they had most fortunately\ncaught me just at the right moment. The Kyangdam men could not thank me\nenough for restoring peace, and their joy was still greater when I\npresented the whole party with money to supplement their scanty store of\nprovisions. They gave vent to their delight by performing games, dances,\nand wrestling bouts in front of my tent, and their happy laughter and\nshouts were echoed till late in the night from the mountains.\n\nThen came twelve more soldiers from Naktsang with fresh orders that we\nwere under no circumstances to be allowed to proceed farther northwards.\nBut all were friendly and polite; we joked and laughed together, and\nwere the best of friends. It is singular that they never lose their\npatience, though I am always causing them worry, perplexity, and\ntroublesome journeys.\n\nThe chief of Largep was more unyielding than our old friends the\nNaktsang gentlemen. He would not let me climb the red mountain, but\ninsisted that we should leave the district next day and travel straight\nto Raga-tasam. However, I snubbed him, demanding how he, a small\nchieftain in the mountains, could dare to speak so peremptorily. Even\nthe Chinese in Lhasa, I said, had treated us pleasantly and had left us\nthe fullest freedom. I would not leave the spot until I had seen the\nlake. I threatened to tear the Shigatse passport in pieces, and send off\nat once a courier to Tang Darin and Lien Darin, and wait for their\nanswer at the foot of Targo-gangri. Then the chief became embarrassed,\ngot up in silence, and went away with the others. But they were with me\nagain in the evening, and with a humble smile they said that I might\nride up the red mountain if I would promise not to go to the shore of\nthe lake.\n\nA thin veil of mist lay over the country all day long. But when the sun\nset, the western sky glowed with purple flames, and the cold glaciers\nand snowfields were thrown up by a background of fire.\n\n[Illustration: 200. LUNDUP'S SQUADRON. TO THE LEFT A PART OF\nTARGO-GANGRI. CAMP 150.]\n\nAt last, on April 29, we take to the road and ride up the affluent\nChuma, flowing down from the right and called in its upper course\nNagma-tsangpo. We climb higher and higher up regularly curved lake\nterraces; the view widens out the nearer we approach the summit, where\nthe Ladakis are waiting for us with a fire. The southern basin of the\nDangra-yum-tso was clearly visible as a bluish sabre-blade, and the\nvalley of the Targo-tsangpo widens out like a trumpet to the broad plain\nbeside the shore. It was the easier to trace the course of the river to\nthe neighbourhood of the lake because it was marked all along by white\nglistening ice flakes and dark spots where bushes grow. At the end of\nJuly the river is said to rise so high that it cannot be crossed. So\nwhen letters have to be delivered to nomads on the eastern foot of the\nmountain they are weighted with a stone and thrown across a narrow part\nof the stream.\n\nThe water of the lake is said to be as salt as that of the Ngangtse-tso,\nand is not fit for drinking; but nevertheless pilgrims drink it, because\nit is holy. At this time the winter ice was breaking up, and long sheets\nof ice lay only at the shore. In contrast to most other lakes of Tibet,\nthe Dangra-yum-tso runs north and south, and it narrows in the middle,\njust as Nain Sing has drawn it on his map; but he has made the lake a\nlittle too large, and has especially exaggerated the dimensions of the\nsouthern basin. A horseman can travel round the lake in five ordinary or\nseven short days' journey; the pilgrim road closely follows the lake\nshore. The pilgrims always make the circuit of the lake in the direction\nof the hands of a watch, if they are orthodox; but if they belong to the\nPembo sect, like the monks of the Sershik-gompa, they begin their march\nin the opposite direction. Most of them come in late summer or autumn. I\nwas told that the pilgrimage round the lake, which of course must be\nmade on foot, was in honour of Padma Sambhava, the saint who came to\nTibet in the year 747, became the founder of Lamaism, and enjoys almost\nas great a reputation as Buddha himself. He is called in Tibet Lop\u00f6n\nRinpoche, and his image is generally found in the temples.\n\nSershik-gompa, of which we had frequently heard, and which Nain Sing\nnames Sasik Gombas on his map, stands on an even slope at the eastern\nfoot of the mountain. The monastery is under the Devashung, and has\ntwenty Pembo brethren and an abbot named Tibha. Some of the monks are\nsaid to be well off, but on the whole the convent is not rich; it is\nsupported by nomads in Naktsang, Largep, and Sershik. The monastery is\nconstructed chiefly of stone, but it also contains timber transported\nhither from the Shang valley. There is a _dukang_ and a number of small\nimages of gods. The Targo-gangri massive can also be travelled round,\nand only one pass has to be crossed, namely the Barong-la (or Parung),\nwhich lies between Targo-gangri and the mighty range on the west of the\nShuru-tso.\n\nThe short, lofty, meridional range which is called Targo-gangri, and is\nrather to be considered an isolated massive, ends in the north not far\nfrom the lake, the flanks of the last peak descending gently to its flat\nplain. Nain Sing calls the massive Targot-la Snowy Peaks, and the\ndistrict to the south of the mountain T\u00e1rgot Lh\u00e1geb (Largep). The river\nis marked Targot Sangpo on his map. His Siru Cho to the east of the lake\nis known to no one here, and his Mun Cho Lakes marked to the south of it\nactually lie to the west of the lake. His representation of the\nmountains to the south of the lake is confused and fanciful. Some nomads\nnamed the holy mountain Chang-targo-ri.\n\nOn the way back I took levels, assisted by Robert, and found that the\nhighest recognizable terrace lay 292 feet above the level of the river.\nThe Targo-tsangpo is here certainly not more than 6\u00bd feet higher than\nthe surface of the lake. As the Dangra-yum-tso is surrounded,\nparticularly on the south, by rather low, flat land, the lake must\nformerly have been of very large extent. At that time the Targo-gangri\nskirted the western shore as a peninsula.\n\nIn the night there was a noise like an avalanche falling; it became\nfeebler and died away. The horses and yaks of the Tibetans, frightened\nby something or other, had stormed the detritus slope of the terrace.\nHalf an hour later I heard whistling and shouting; the men were coming\nback with the runaways.\n\n[Illustration: 201. LUNDUP (on horseback to the left) AND HIS RETINUE\nPREVENT ME FROM PROCEEDING TO THE DANGRA-YUM-TSO.\n\n Targo-gangri and the river Targo-tsangpo in the background.]\n\nBefore we took leave of our troublesome friends they were photographed\non horseback (Illust. 201). They all wore roomy, dark cerise-coloured\nmantles, and, unlike the bare-headed Largep men, a bandage round the\nhead, in many cases drawn through silver rings like bangles. One had a\ntall white hat like a truncated cone, with a flat brim, a head-covering\nI remembered seeing in Nakchu. Their guns, with the military pennants on\nthe forks, they had slung over their shoulders, and their sabres stuck\nout horizontally from their girdles in silver-bound scabbards decorated\nwith three pieces of imitation coral. Over the left shoulder some\ncarried a whole bandolier of _gao_ cases with glass fronts, through\nwhich were visible the little innocent gods which bring their wearers\ngood fortune on their journey. Their fat little horses stamped and\nsnorted, longing for their old well-known pastures on the shores of the\nKyaring-tso. They also were decked with needlessly heavy but dainty\nornaments. The white horses with red riders on their backs made a\nparticularly striking picture. It was a varied scene in the blazing\nsunshine, with the snowy summits of Targo-gangri as a background and\nNain Sing's lake to the north. I begged them to greet Hlaje Tsering\nheartily from me, and tell him that I hoped to see him again.\n\nAnd then they struck their heels into their horses, drew together into\nclose order, and trotted gaily up to the level surfaces of the river\nterraces. Captivated by the appearance of the departing troop I ran\nafter it, and watched the dark column grow smaller at the red spur,\nwhere the old shore lines seemed to run together. Singular people! They\nrise like goblins from the depths of their valleys, they come one knows\nnot whence, they, like us, visit for a few short days the foot of the\nsnowy mountain, and then they vanish again like a whirlwind in the dust\nof the horses' hoofs and beyond the mysterious horizon.\n\nWe, too, set out, and I left the Dangra-yum-tso to its fate, the\ndark-blue waters to the blustering storm and the song of the rising\nwaves, and the eternal snowfields to the whisper of the winds. May the\nchanging colours of the seasons, the beauty of atmospheric effects of\nlight and shade, gold, purple, and grey, pass over Padma Sambhava's lake\namidst rain and sunshine, as already for untold thousands of years, and\nthe steps of believing, yearning pilgrims draw a chain around its\nshores.\n\nAccompanied by Robert and our aged guide, I rode across the river, which\ncarries about 140 cubic feet of water, and up to a spur of Targo-gangri\nin order to procure a rock specimen. One glacier tongue after another of\nthe long series on the east side of the mountain passes out of sight,\nand now the gap disappears through which we had seen a corner of the\nlake, and far away to the north on its other side the outlines of\nlight-blue mountains.\n\nSix hundred sheep were grazing on a slope without shepherds. Now and\nthen a hare was started in the thick tufts of steppe grass. From the\nscrees on our right was heard the pleasant chirp of partridges. When we\nwere far away two shepherds came up out of a gorge and drove the sheep\ndown to the river. At the lower end of the moraine of a glacier stood a\nsolitary tent. I asked our old man what the spot was called, but he\nswore by three different gods that he had no notion. The most southern\noutskirt of Targo-gangri hid the rest of the range, but before we\nreached camp No. 151 it appeared again foreshortened. This camp stood on\nthe left bank of the river.\n\n[Illustration: 202, 203, 204. TARGO-GANGRI FROM THE SOUTH.]\n\nMay 1. Spring is come; we have, indeed, had as much as 29 degrees of\nfrost during the preceding nights, but the days are fine and clear, and\nit is never as trying as in the Chang-tang, even riding against the\nwind. At camp No. 150 we had been at a height of 15,446 feet; now we go\nslowly down, following the river at first, but leaving it on the left\nwhen we see it emerge from the mountains as through a gate. Over a\nsingularly uniform and continuous plain without fissures or undulations\nwe now approach in a south-westerly direction the threshold which\nseparates the Shuru-tso from the Dangra-yum-tso. On the south-west side\nof Tangro-gangri appear six glaciers, much smaller than those on the\nnorth and east, and rather to be regarded as spurs and corners of the\nice mantle which covers the higher regions of the massive. The Shuru-tso\nis seen as a fine blue line. We approach its shore and find that the\nlake is completely frozen over. We make a halt to photograph and to\ndraw a panorama. Our old man smokes a pipe, and Robert and Tashi try\nwhich can snore loudest. When I am ready we sneak off quietly from the\ntwo sleepers. Tashi is the first to awake, understands the joke, and\nalso sneaks off. At last Robert awakes and finds himself alone, but he\nsoon overtakes us on his mule.\n\nNow we have the lake close on our right. To the south rise grand\nmountains, one of the loftiest chains of the Trans-Himalaya, raven black\nbeneath the sun, but the firn-fields glitter with a metallic lustre.\nConsiderable terraces skirt the bank, and the valleys running down from\nthe east to the lake cut through them, forming hollow ways in which a\nsolitary tent stands here and there guarded by a savage dog. We encamp\non the terrace above the Parva valley, our eight black tents contrasting\nstrongly with the yellow soil (15,594 feet). Our old Tibetans from\nKyangdam now bid us farewell and receive double payment as a present. In\nfront of us are the congealed waters of the Shuru-tso, longing to be\nreleased by the warm spring winds; to the south rises the Do-tsengkan, a\nmighty elevation clothed in eternal snow; in the south-west the sun\nsinks behind the huge crest of the mountains and the shadows pass\nsilently across the ice. Soon the evening red lingers only on the peaks\nof Targo-gangri and Do-tsengkan, and then another night falls over the\nearth. It is a pity that the Tibetans do not understand the relations of\nthe sun and the planets, for they might regard the solar system as a\nunique immeasurable prayer-mill revolving in space to the glory of the\ngods. In the darkness the lofty mountains to the north-west are misty\nand indistinct, but when the moon rises they and the lake are\nilluminated alike and seem to be connected. From our terrace we seem to\nhave a bottomless abyss below us.\n\nOn May 2 we ride southwards along the shore (Illust. 205). Like the\nDangra-yum-tso, the Shuru-tso runs almost north and south, lying in a\nlongitudinal valley which has this direction, so unusual in Tibet. There\nis open water along the bank, and the waves splash against the edge of\nthe porous ice, on which wild ducks sit, often in long rows. Owing to\nthe swell the water on the bank is black with decayed alg\u00e6 and rotting\nwater-weeds, in which wild geese cackle and scream. As we come to the\nregularly curved southern shore of the lake, with its bank of sand, we\nsee the well-known signs of a storm on the plain before us, white dust\nswirls, stirred up in spirals from the ground by the wind, like the\nsmoke of a shot. After a time we find ourselves in the path of the\nstorm--it will not need many such storms to break up the whole lake and\ndrive its loosened ice-sheets to the eastern bank. We ride across the\nriver Kyangdam-tsangpo, which comes from the Trans-Himalaya, and bivouac\non its western terrace (15,548 feet). Here we have the whole lake in\nfront of us to the north, and behind it Targo-gangri, now smaller again.\n\nHere our attendants were changed. The Largep chief, who had been so\noverbearing at first, was as meek as a lamb at the moment of parting,\nand gave me a _kadakh_, a sheep, and four skins of butter. Every morning\nwhen the caravan sets out Ishe comes to my tent to fetch my two puppies;\nMuhamed Isa has the third, which he means to train up to be a wonderful\nanimal, and the fourth has been consigned to Sonam Tsering. They have\ngrown a deal already, and howl and bite each other on the march, when\nthey ride in a basket on the back of a mule. They are graceful and\nplayful, and give me great amusement with their tricks.\n\nFrom the little pass Dunka-la we had a grand and instructive view over\nthe great Shuru-tso, which is of a somewhat elongated form and is convex\nto the west. Next day we crossed the pass Ben-la in a south-westerly\nstorm. It raged and blew day and night, but the air remained quite\nclear. On the 6th we rode up a steep path to the Angden-la. In the\nrather deep snow and the tiring rubbish the horses can get on only a\nstep at a time, and have often to stop and rest. Tsering rides past us\nwith his yak caravan, and four Ladakis have stayed behind in the valley\nsuffering from acute headache. At the top of the pass (18,514 feet)\nstands a huge cairn with strings and streamers, their prayers rising to\nthe dwellings of the gods on the wings of the wind (Illusts. 207, 209,\n210).\n\n[Illustration: 205. THE SHURU-TSO, WITH TARGO-GANGRI IN THE BACKGROUND.]\n\nNo words can describe the panorama around us. We stand above a sea of\nmountains with here and there a predominant peak. To the south we see\nthe Himalayas clearer and sharper than before, and can perceive where\nthe valley of the Brahmaputra runs on this side of the white ridge. To\nthe north the Shuru-tso is much foreshortened, and the Dangra-yum-tso is\nhidden by Targo-gangri, which is sharply defined, though we are six\ndays' journey from it. Nay, even the contours of the mighty mountains on\nthe north-east shore of the lake, which we saw in winter from the north,\nare distinguishable, and they lie fully ten days' journey from here. I\nsit at the fire, drawing and making observations, as on all the passes.\nI am again on the Trans-Himalaya, 53 miles from the Chang-la-Pod-la, and\nnow cross it for the third time. Northwards the water drains to the\nShuru-tso, southwards to the Raga-tsangpo. My feet stand on the oceanic\nwatershed, my eyes roam over this huge system, which I love as my own\npossession. For the part where I now stand was unknown and waited\nmillions of years for my coming, lashed by innumerable storms, washed by\nautumn rains, and wrapped in snow in winter. With every new pass on the\nwatershed of the gigantic rivers of India which I have the good fortune\nto cross, my desire and hope become ever greater to follow its winding\nline westwards to regions already known, and to fill up on the map the\ngreat white blank north of the Tsangpo. I know very well that\ngenerations of explorers will be necessary to examine this mighty\nintricate mountain land, but my ambition will be satisfied if I succeed\nin making the first reconnaissance.\n\nWe leave the cairn and the fire, its smoke covering the summit of the\npass as with a torn veil, and follow the brook, of which the water will\nsome day reach the warm sea after a thousand experiences. I turn a page\nand begin a new chapter in my life as an explorer; the desolate\nChang-tang remains behind me, and Targo-gangri sinks below the\nhorizon--shall I ever see its majestic peaks again?\n\nWe descend rapidly with the wind in our faces. Large blocks of ice fill\nthe valley bottom between walls of black schists and porphyry. Several\nlarge side valleys open into ours, and deserted hearths are signs of the\nvisits of nomads in summer. Our valley unites with the large Kyam-chu\nvalley, which is 6 miles broad and descends from the Sha-la, the pass of\nthe Trans-Himalaya over which our Tibetans had wished to guide us. The\nland round the nomad tents of Kyam is flat and open.\n\nOn May 7 we march on in a terrible wind with the blue mirror of the\nAmchok-tso on the south. The ground is flat and hard. A hare runs like\nthe wind, as if his life were in danger, over this flat, where he cannot\nfind the slightest cover. Eight sprightly antelopes show us their\ngraceful profiles as they spring lightly along, rising from the horizon\nagainst a background of sky. Robert has drawn his fur over his head, and\nsits in the saddle like a lady, with both his legs dangling on the\nsheltered side, while Tashi leads his mule. But as the wind still blows\nthrough him, he lays himself on his stomach across the saddle. My horse\nsways when the wind catches the broad breast of its rider. The wind\nhowls and moans in my ears, it whines and whistles as it used to do in\nthe Chang-tang, a whole host of indignant spirits of the air seem to\ncomplain of all the misery they have seen in the world.\n\nThe plain is called Amchok-tang, and we march over it, following the\nmain stream. Amchok-yung is a village of five tents, where are some fine\n_manis_ bedecked with yak skulls, antelope horns, and slabs of\nsandstone, one of them, of a regular rectangular form, measuring 40\ninches. The inhabitants of the village disappeared as if by magic; only\nan old man gave us his company as we inspected two of the tents. But\nwhen we had ridden on, the people crept out again from behind dung\nheaps, hillocks, and grass tufts, where they had hidden themselves.\n\nThe wind bores thick yellow sand out of the ground into a spout, which\nis so dense that it looks black on the shady side. It winds up in\ncyclonic spirals like the smoke of a tremendous explosion and, like a\nstrange ghost, dances across the plain, and does not fall to pieces till\nit reaches the foot of the eastern mountains.\n\n[Illustration: 206. ON THE UPPER RAGA-TSANGPO.]\n\n[Illustration: 207. ANGDEN-LA.]\n\n[Illustration: 208. CHOMO-UCHONG FROM THE EAST.]\n\nIn our camp of this day, situated on the north-west shore of the\nAmchok-tso, we heard Chinese and Tibetan officials spoken of who were\nshortly to ride through the country in all directions, counting the\ntents, people, and herds. It was thought that this inspection was\nconnected with the new taxation which the Chinese intend to introduce.\n\nMy boat lay ready on the strand, for May 8 was to be devoted to an\nexcursion on the Amchok-tso.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII\n\nTO THE OUTLET OF THE CHAKTAK-TSANGPO IN THE BRAHMAPUTRA\n\n\nThe lake was free from ice, and only on the northern shore some blocks\nrocked on the surf. A south-west wind swept constantly over the country,\nand there was no prospect of good weather. A dozen Tibetans followed me\nat a respectful distance. I begged them to come nearer and see us start.\nThe boat was brought down to the water, Rehim Ali and Shukkur took their\nplaces, and Lama carried me to the boat through the slowly deepening\nwater. A promontory to the south, 34\u00b0 E., was fixed as our goal, and the\noarsmen began their struggle with the waves. For the first hour the lake\nwas so shallow that the oars struck the bottom and stirred up inky-black\nmud. Shukkur cries out in time with the oars, \"Shubasa, ya aferin,\nbismillah, ya barkadiallah\"--to cite only a few words of his\ninexhaustible repertoire. Rehim Ali's oar gives me a splash as it dips\nin, but I am soon dry again in the wind. The swell stirs up the mud from\nthe bottom, and the water is so shallow that the waves show a tendency\nto break even out in the middle of the lake.\n\n[Illustration: 209, 210. ANGDEN-LA, A PASS ON THE TRANS-HIMALAYA.]\n\nNow the sandspouts begin their threatening dance on the western shore,\nand in that direction the water gleams white. The storm sweeps over the\nAmchok-tso, and the two Mohammedans must put forth all their strength to\nforce the boat forward against wind and water. The swell grows heavier,\nthe depth is 7.9 feet, and the water assumes a greener hue. Shukkur Ali,\nour old fisherman, puts out his line, but nothing but floating alg\u00e6 will\nbite. In several places are seen wild ducks, gulls, and wild geese.\nNomads have just arrived and are putting up their tents in a gorge on\nthe eastern shore. At length we reach the promontory, having sounded a\nmaximum depth of only 12 feet.\n\nAfter observations have been taken, a panorama sketched, and dinner\neaten, we again set off in a northerly direction, and the boat dances\nbefore the brisk wind lightly as a wild duck over the waves. We sail\npast three more tents, sound 10.2 feet, and approach the northern shore,\nwhere the water is only 20 inches deep, and is a muddy soup. We run\naground at a distance of 100 yards from the bank. Rabsang comes up\nrunning, leading my horse by the bridle, and some other Ladakis follow\nhim. They help us to land, and light a much needed fire at the foot of\nthe sand terrace which here rises from the bank.\n\nThe river Kyam-chu enters the Amchok-tso on the north side, and only 1\u00bc\nmiles to the west of its muddy delta the Dongmo-chu flows out of the\nlake towards its confluence with the Raga-tsangpo in the east. Properly\nspeaking, the Dongmo is only the continuation of the Kyam-chu, with the\nlake hanging like a bag on its right bank.\n\nAfter the boat has been folded up, Muhamed Isa has to show us the way on\nhorseback over the grass-grown sandhills. He guides me across the twenty\nshallow and treacherously swampy delta arms of the Kyam-chu. It is dark,\nbut a beacon fire has been lighted in the camp, and the cakes of dung\nare heated to whiteness in the strong wind, and shine like electric\nlight.\n\nNext day I was up before the sun, in order to take an observation. The\nthermometer had sunk in the night to 0.3\u00b0, and the wind blew regularly\nas a trade-wind. It is pleasant to see the day dawn in the east, and\nlife begin anew among the tents. The hired yaks have lain tethered\nduring the night, and now they are allowed to wander freely over the\npasture. Sleepy yawns are heard in the tents, and men come out and make\nup the fires; the jug bubbles in which the morning tea is stirred up\nwith butter, and kettles are set on three stones over the fire. The\npuppies play in the open, and are glad that they have not to roll about\nto-day in a basket.\n\nThe days and months fly by to a chorus of storms, and spring still\ndelays its coming. In the evening songs of the Ladakis I fancy I hear an\nundertone of home-sickness, and they rejoice at every day's march which\nbrings us a little further westwards. When we woke next morning, it blew\nas fresh as ever, and Robert had made himself a mask with Tibetan\nspectacles sewed into the eye-holes; he looked very comical in this\ncontrivance, which was very appropriate in this land of religious\nmasquerades.\n\nThe road, ascending the broad valley of the Pu-chu, led over open,\nslightly undulating ground to Serme-lartsa. Here old Guffaru was\nreported sick; he suffered from colic, and was well nursed. But late at\nnight Robert came breathless to my tent to tell me the old man was\ndying. When I came to the tent the son, whose duty it was to keep the\nshroud ready, sat weeping beside his father, while the other men warmed\ntheir caps over the fire and applied them to the body of the patient. I\nordered him a cold compress, but he asked me, to the intense amusement\nof others, just to go back to my tent again. Muhamed Isa laughed till he\nrolled over. Guffaru sat upright on his bed, moaned and groaned, and\nbegged me to go away. I gave him a strong dose of opium, and next\nmorning he was so brisk that he walked all the way, though a horse was\nat his disposal. The remains of Burroughs and Wellcome's medicine chest\nhad saved his life; he was thankful and pleased that his shroud was not\nrequired this time.\n\n[Illustration: 211. MANIS ON THE WAY TO THE ANGDEN-LA.]\n\nOn May 11 we mounted to the pass Lungring (17,697 feet) in a bitterly\ncold snowstorm, and descended the valley of the same name to the bank of\nthe upper Raga-tsangpo. On the 12th we marched upstream; the valley is\nbroad, and is bounded on the north by great mountains. The thermometer\nhad sunk to -0.8\u00b0, and the storm was dead against us. Occasionally it\nabated so much that we could hear the footfalls of the horses on the\ndetritus, but we were benumbed when we came to the camp. Thick snow\nfell all the afternoon. My puppies sat together in the tent door and\ngrowled at the falling flakes, but when they saw it was no use, they\nsnapped at the flakes as though they were flies and pawed at them. Then\nthey went back into the tent, lay on the frieze blanket in the corner,\nand let it snow on.\n\nOn the next day's march we passed Kamba-sumdo, where the two head\nsources of the Raga-tsangpo unite; the one, coming from the west, is\nnamed Chang-shung, the other, from the south-west, Lo-shung, _i.e._\n\"Northern\" and \"Southern Valley.\" The Chang-shung is the larger. The\nLo-shung we had to cross twice, and found the bed full of stones\nconnected by slippery ice. In the west a large snow-covered ridge\nappeared, the Chomo-uchong, or \"High Nun,\" which was discovered by Nain\nSing. Ryder measured it and produced an exact map of it. Belts of snow\ndescend from the white summits down the dark flanks. Other Tibetans\ncalled it Choor-jong (Illust. 212).\n\nStill marching south-westwards we approached at an acute angle the great\nmain road between Lhasa and Ladak, the so-called _tasam_. As though to\nshow its importance a caravan was just at the time travelling westwards\nin three columns. It moved so slowly through the landscape that we had\nto watch the mountain spur behind to convince ourselves that the small\nblack lines were moving at all. Soon afterwards we pitched our tents in\nRaga-tasam (16,234 feet), a station on the great high-road, where we\ncame in contact with the route of the English expedition under Ryder and\nRawling for the first time since leaving Shigatse. Whatever the\nimmediate future had in store for me, it was above all things my desire\nto avoid this route as much as possible. For the map which Ryder and\nWood had executed is the best that has been surveyed of any part of\nTibet; I could add nothing new to it with my modest equipment. But if I\npassed to the north or south of their line of march, I could supplement\ntheir map with my own explorations. In this I actually so far succeeded\nthat out of eighty-three days' marches to Tokchen on the Manasarowar\nonly two-and-a-half days' march ran along their route.\n\nAs I now perceived that we should have to travel on the road which Nain\nSing in the year 1865, and Ryder and Rawling and their comrades in 1904,\nhad passed along, I wrote, after consultation with Robert and Muhamed\nIsa, to Tang Darin and Lien Darin in Lhasa. I represented in an urgent\nappeal to the former, the High Commissioner, that it could not clash\nwith any treaty if I, being already in Tibet, travelled to Ladak by one\nroad or another, provided that I actually did go thither, and that I\ntherefore begged permission to take the following route: I wished to\ntake my homeward way past the lake Tedenam-tso, of which Nain Sing had\nheard, then to visit the Dangra-yum-tso, and thence to proceed to Tradum\nand to the Ghalaring-tso, the holy mountain Kailas, the Manasarowar\nlake, the sources of the Indus and the Brahmaputra, and lastly Gartok.\nTo the other, the Amban of Lhasa, I also wrote about the way I desired\nto take, and promised to send him a report about it from Gartok. I told\nboth that I wished for a speedy answer, and would wait for it in\nRaga-tasam.\n\nAs soon as I had come to a decision, I called Tundup Sonam and Tashi,\nand told them to get their sleep over by midnight. Then I wrote the\nabove-mentioned letters and letters to my parents and to Major O'Connor.\nWhen my correspondence was ready, it was past midnight. The camp had\nlain several hours in sleep when I made the night watchman waken the two\nmessengers and Muhamed Isa. Their orders were such as they had never\nreceived before. They were to travel day and night along the 220 miles\nto Shigatse and hand over my letters to Ma. They need not wait for an\nanswer, for I had asked the Mandarins to send me special couriers.\nProvisions they need not take, for they would be able to get everything\non the great high-road, and I gave them money to hire the horses they\nrequired. They would be able to reach their journey's end in ten days,\nand in a month we ought to have an answer. If they did not find us in\nRaga-tasam on their return, they were to follow in our track.\n\nTundup Sonam and Tashi were in good spirits and full of hope when\nMuhamed Isa and I accompanied them outside the camp, and watched them\ndisappear into the dark night. They made a detour to avoid the twelve\nblack tents standing here, lest the numerous dogs of the village should\nbark. It was not far to the great high-road, and at the next _tasam_, as\nthe stations are called, they could hire horses at daybreak. Muhamed Isa\nand I sat a while in my tent in lively conversation about our prospects.\nNot till I had crept into bed after a tiring day did it occur to me that\nit was perhaps cruel to let the two men ride alone day and night through\nTibet. But it was too late, they must now fulfil their mission.\n\nThere was no hurry now. We stayed here seven days. Westwards the way was\nopen, but not the way I wished to take, and therefore we were prisoners\nin our own tents. \"Patience,\" whispered the ceaseless winds. The unknown\nland lay to the north; I could not give it up till all my efforts had\nproved fruitless. We had cold unpleasant weather, with frequently more\nthan 36 degrees of frost, and on the night of May 15 as much as 46.4\ndegrees. The Tibetans said that this neighbourhood is always cold, even\nwhen spring reigns all around.\n\nI lay on my bed and read _David Copperfield_, _Dombey and Son_, and _The\nNewcomes_, for I had now a whole library to read through, the gift of\nthe obliging Major O'Connor. Robert gave me lessons in Hindustani, and I\ndrew types of the people. A puppy of the same age as our own warily came\nup to my tent and got a breakfast. Mamma Puppy was by no means pleased\nwith this wayside guest, who looked comical, as shy and quiet as a\nmouse; he sat by the hour together at the fire and looked at me, at\nlength falling asleep and turning on his side. When he appeared again at\ndinner, he was thoroughly worried by Puppy, but nevertheless went calmly\nto the family mat and laid himself down. Puppy was furious, but so\ndumbfoundered at this unexpected impudence that she laid herself down on\nthe ground beside the mat.\n\nTibetans came every day to my tent and implored us to make a start. When\nthis proved useless, they declared at length, that they could no longer\nsupply us with provisions, for no more were to be had in the\nneighbourhood. I asked them, as an experiment, whether they would\nforward two letters to the Mandarins in Lhasa, but they replied that\nthey had no authority to do this. They were much astonished when they\nheard that I had sent off letters five days previously. For two days I\nlay in bed, for I was quite at an end of my strength, and made Robert\nread to me.\n\nOn Whitsunday, May 19, we had another long palaver. The Tibetans read to\nme the instructions they had received from Lhasa, which were dated \"on\nthe tenth day of the second month in the year of the fiery sheep.\" I was\nthere called Hedin Sahib, and the orders contained the following\nclauses: \"Send him out of the country. Let him not turn aside from the\n_tasam_, and guide him neither to the right nor to the left. Supply him\nwith horses, yaks, servants, fuel, grass, and everything he wants. The\nprices he must pay are the usual prices fixed by the Government. Give\nhim at once anything he asks for and refuse him nothing. But if he will\nnot conform to the directions on his passport, but says he will take\nother routes independently, give him no provisions, but keep firm hold\nof him and send off messengers at once to the Devashung. Do not venture\nto think for yourselves, but obey. Any one in the provinces who does not\nobey will be beaten; so run the regulations you have to conform to. If\nhe gives no trouble, see that the nomads serve him well and do him no\nharm on the way to Gartok. Then it will be the business of the Garpuns\n(the two Viceroys) to take him under their protection.\"\n\nAnd yet I was not satisfied. I told them that I could not think of\nconforming to my passport, which was contrary to my religion, and that I\nmust go northwards from the Chomo-uchong to Saka-dzong. They were quite\nat liberty to send messengers to the Devashung. We would wait. Then they\nheld a council, and at length agreed to let us take the northern route,\nbut we must set out on May 21.\n\n[Illustration: 212. CHOMO-UCHONG FROM LAMLUNG-LA.]\n\n[Illustration: 213. PANORAMA FROM THE TA-LA. (The Brahmaputra Valley and\nthe Himalayas in the background.)\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nI lay on my bed and dreamed of the tramp of horses coming both from the\neast and the west, of the roads open to me to the mysterious mountain\nsystem in the north, round which my plans and my dreams circled\ncontinually like young eagles.\n\nSo we set out on May 21, north-westwards, and saw the summits of the\nChomo-uchong disappear behind its outskirts. From the camp we could see\nseveral valleys in the north-west drained by the source streams of the\nRaga-tsangpo. Just beyond Raga-tasam we again left the route of the\nEnglish expedition, and on the 22nd climbed up to the pass Ravak-la,\nwhich lies on a low ridge between two of the source streams of the\nRaga-tsangpo. On the 23rd we crossed four passes. The Kichung-la is the\nwatershed between the Raga-loshung and the Chungsang, a river which\ntakes an independent course to the Tsangpo. The ascent to the fourth\npass, the Kanglung-la, was very tiresome, the ground consisting of wet\nalluvium, wherein the horses sank so deep that we preferred to go on\nfoot and splash through the mud. We were now on the heights whence the\nwater flows down to three of the northern tributaries of the\nBrahmaputra; the third flows to the Chaktak-tsangpo, which runs to the\nwest of Saka-dzong. Here and there the snow, owing to wind, melting and\nfreezing again, has assumed the form of upright blades, two feet high\nand sharp as a knife. Far to the south appear parts of the Himalayas,\nand we are here in a grand landscape of wild and fantastic relief. Now\nand then the view is obscured by dense showers of hail.\n\nOn the morning of the 24th all the country was hidden by thickly falling\nsnow, and the weather at the end of May was more winterly than on the\nChang-tang in December. We ride between steep cliffs down a deeply\neroded valley, and side valleys run in with narrow deep openings. In one\nof them is a frozen waterfall. We often cross the clear water of the\nriver which rushes along on its way to Saka-dzong and the\nChaktak-tsangpo. Violent gusts of snow sweep through the valley from\ntime to time, and then we can hardly see our hands, and the ground and\nthe mountains become white. In the beautiful junction of valleys called\nPangsetak our tents and those of the Tibetans were heavily weighted with\nsnow.\n\nOn the 25th we go down further. Nomad tents are as rare as on the\npreceding days, for people come here only in summer. The path runs\nfrequently up along the left terrace, high above the valley bottom,\nwhere the river has formed two large basins of dark-green water. We\namused ourselves with rolling stones down the steep slope; they knocked\nagainst other boulders, dashed with a thundering noise into the valley,\ntearing up sand and dust, bounced up from the ground, and finally\nplunged into the basin, raising a cloud of spray. It was childish but\nvery diverting. The valley passes into a plain, in the southern part of\nwhich runs the great high-road between Raga-tasam and Saka-dzong. The\nriver we had followed down is the Kanglung-bupchu, but in Saka it is\ncalled Sa-chu-tsangpo. We pitched our camp in the mouth of the valley\nBasang on the north side of the plain.\n\nFrom here to Saka-dzong is a short day's journey. But, instead of\ntravelling along this road, which Ryder has already laid down on his\nmap, I wished to see the place where the Chaktak-tsangpo unites with the\nupper Brahmaputra. That would involve a long detour of four days'\njourney, and to this our friends from Raga would not consent without the\npermission of the Governor of Saka. We therefore stayed a day in the\nBasang valley, while a messenger was sent to him. When the answer came\nit was, to our surprise, in the affirmative, but under the condition\nthat the main part of the caravan should proceed straight to Saka-dzong.\nI even received a local passport for the excursion.\n\nAmong other natives who at this time sat for me as models was a youth of\ntwenty years, named Ugyu, who had lived some years before with his\nmother and sisters in a valley to the north, where their tent was\nattacked and pillaged by robbers. They had defended themselves bravely\nwith sabres and knives, but the robber band had had firearms, and Ugyu\nhad been struck by a bullet, which had passed through his shoulder-blade\nand lung, and had come out at his breast. Large scars showed the course\nof the bullet. When one remembers that the leaden bullets of the\nTibetans are as large as hazel-nuts, one is astonished that the boy did\nnot die of internal h\u00e6morrhage. He appeared, on the contrary,\nextraordinarily healthy and blooming, and had an amiable, sympathetic\ndisposition.\n\nI sat on a barley sack before Muhamed Isa's tent and sketched.\nMeanwhile, the baggage and provisions were made ready for the excursion.\nMy excellent caravan leader stood, tall and straight as a pole, watching\nthe others filling the sacks we were to take with us. He had the boat\nalso and everything we wanted for river measurements packed up. In the\nevening he arranged a farewell ball for Tsering, Shukkur Ali, Rabsang,\nIslam Ahun, and Ishe, who were to accompany Robert and me to the\nTsangpo. He had bought in Shigatse a large fine guitar, on which he\nplayed himself in his tent. This evening the dancing and singing went\noff more gaily and merrily than ever. We expected good news from Lhasa,\nand were glad that the people in Saka had granted the permission I had\nasked for.\n\nOn the morning of May 27 the weather was really fine after a minimum of\nonly 23\u00b0; had the spring come at last? The main caravan had already gone\noff westwards to Saka, and my party was ready when Muhamed Isa came to\nsay farewell. He was ordered to remain in Saka till I returned, and to\ntry by all means to gain the confidence of the officials by friendliness\nand prudent conduct. My small caravan was on the road to the south, and\nwe stood alone on the deserted camping-ground. After he had received his\ninstructions we mounted into our saddles at the same time and I rode\nafter my men. I turned once more in the saddle and saw Muhamed Isa's\nstately form upright on his grey horse, his pipe in his mouth, his green\nvelvet cap on his head, and the black sheepskin loose on his shoulder,\ntrotting quickly in the track of the caravan. It was the last time I saw\nhim thus.\n\nSoon we cross the great high-road, the _tasam_, and ride slowly up to\nthe pass Gyebuk-la (15,846 feet), marked by four _manis_, which are\ncovered with green flags of schist with incised Buddha images. The\nwell-worn path, and three caravans of yaks which are just coming over\nthe pass on the way to Saka-dzong, show us that this is an important\ntrade-route. Two of the caravans came from the great town Tsongka-dzong,\nwhich lies five days' journey southwards, not far from the frontier of\nNepal. From Saka the caravans go over the Gyebuk-la, cross the\nBrahmaputra, ascend the Samderling valley, and by the Sukpu-la and\nNegu-la passes reach Tsongka-dzong, which supplies the nomads living in\nthe north with barley. From Gyebuk-la there is a grand view over the\nsharp peaks and the glacier tongues of the Chomo-uchong. On the southern\nslopes of the pass there are _pama_ bushes almost everywhere, and it is\npleasant to see their fresh green needles again.\n\nThe road runs down the Kyerkye valley. On a smooth wall of rock \"Om mani\npadme hum\" is hewn in characters a yard high. At camp No. 167 the\nTibetans of the neighbourhood came kindly to meet me and bid me welcome,\nand two of them led my horse by the bridle to my tent, as is the custom\nin this country.\n\nNext day we march down the valley with fresh guides, and see several\nruins telling of happier times now gone by. Terraced structures for\nirrigating the fields indicate that barley is grown in the district. In\nfront of us is now the broad valley of the Brahmaputra, and we come to\nan arm of the river where a ferry is established to transport caravans\nand goods on the way between Tsongka-dzong and Saka-dzong from one side\nof the river to the other.\n\nCamp No. 168 was pitched at the extremity of the tongue of gravel\nbetween the two rivers. The Chaktak-tsangpo had here a breadth of 92.2\nfeet, a maximum depth of 2.4 feet, an average velocity of 4.56 feet, and\na discharge of 664 cubic feet per second. Its water was almost quite\nclear, and in consequence of its greater velocity forced its way far\ninto the muddy water of the Brahmaputra. The latter had at mid-day a\ntemperature of 48.9\u00b0, while the water of the tributary was a little\nwarmer, namely, 49.8\u00b0. Our companions told us that all who come to the\ngreat river drink of the water, because it comes from the holy mountain\nKailas, or Kang-rinpoche, in the far west.\n\nShukkur Ali sat with his ground line at a deep bay with slow eddies and\npulled out of the water ten fine fish, a species of sheat with four soft\nbarbs. He had raw meat as bait on his five hooks; at one end of the line\na stone was tied, so that it could be thrown far out into deep water,\nand the other end was made fast to a peg driven in to the bank, and a\nstone was laid on the line so lightly in the fork of the peg that it\nfell when a fish bit. The fisherman can then occupy himself meanwhile\nwith some manual work, such as mending shoes. He puts his fish in a\nsmall enclosed basin. The fish had white flesh, and were delicate.\n\nOn May 29 we measured the main river at a place where a low island\ndivides it into two channels 175.5 and 180.4 feet broad respectively,\nwith a maximum depth of 3.8 feet. Here the Brahmaputra carries 2532\ncubic feet of water, and 3196 after receiving the Chaktak-tsangpo. At\nthe confluence of the Dok-chu we had found only 2966 cubic feet, but the\nmeasurement was made a month and a half earlier. The ratio of the\nBrahmaputra to the Dok-chu was 5:2, and of the Brahmaputra to the\nChaktak-tsangpo 7:2. The Dok-chu is therefore considerably larger than\nthe Chaktak-tsangpo.\n\nOn May 30 we followed the broad valley of the Chaktak-tsangpo towards\nthe north-west and west-north-west till we came to a district named\nTakbur, whence we intended to ride next day over the Takbur-la to\nSaka-dzong. But it did not come off; for before I was awakened, came a\nchief with five attendants and made a horrible disturbance with my men\nand our Tibetans from Kyerkye. The latter he beat with the flat of his\nsword, and he took away from the former the milk and butter they had\nbought the evening before, saying that no one had permission to sell us\nprovisions. He told Robert that he had orders not to let us pass through\nto Saka-dzong, and that he would make us stay here three months. We\nmight not hire yaks also--which was very inconvenient, as we had only a\nhorse and a mule after all the hired animals had gone. We might not buy\nprovisions; but this was not of much consequence, for Robert had shot\nfour wild-geese and found a large quantity of eggs, and the river was\nfull of fish.\n\nI accordingly sent Islam Ahun and Ishe to Saka with a message that\nMuhamed Isa should send us five horses immediately. Then I summoned the\nsupercilious chief to my tent, where he confirmed the accounts of my\nmen. He declared that I had no right to deviate a single step from the\ngreat high-road, and that the district in which we were was under him,\nnot under Saka-dzong, and therefore the local passport was worthless. He\nintended to carry out the orders he had received, as he valued his head.\nWhen I told him that I should report his uncivil behaviour to the\nMandarins in Lhasa, he jumped up and drew his sword threateningly, but\nwhen he saw that my composure could not be shaken he quieted down. In\nthe evening he came to tell us that we might cross the Takbur-la, and\nbrought us both yaks and provisions. Who he was we could never discover,\nfor in Saka no one would acknowledge that he knew him. Perhaps it was\nonly a childish attempt to cure me of further deviations from the main\nroad. However, it was a pity that we had lost a day here. When the\nmorning of June 1 dawned, Islam Ahun and Ishe came with our horses,\nwhich we did not now need, and brought me greetings from Muhamed Isa,\nwho sent word that all was well with the caravan; they were on friendly\nterms with the authorities, and were permitted to buy all they required.\n\nWe set off again northwards and marched through the Takbur valley, where\nthere was abundance of game--hares, pheasants, and partridges--some of\nwhich Tsering shot, and foxes, marmots, and field-mice. In the distance\nwe saw a grey prowling animal which we took for a lynx. There were also\nkiangs, which seemed very unconcerned. North-west, north, and north-east\nhuge snowy mountains were seen from the Takbur-la (16,621 feet), of\nwhich Ryder and Wood had taken bearings. Like those Englishmen, I\nconsidered it certain that these peaks lay on the watershed of the\nTsangpo, and belonged to the crest of the Trans-Himalaya. I had\nafterwards an opportunity of proving that this was a mistake. From the\npass a river runs down to join the Sachu-tsangpo. Here we saw a number\nof yaks in the luxuriant grass, and a nearly tame kulan kept them\ncompany.\n\n[Illustration: 214. BEGGAR AT TASHI-GEMBE.]\n\n[Illustration: 215. YOUNG TIBETAN AT THE MOUTH OF THE CHAKTAK-TSANGPO.]\n\n[Illustration: 216. WANDERING LAMA WITH A WOODEN GLOVE IN HIS HAND, SUCH\nAS IS USED TO PROTECT THE HANDS IN THE PROSTRATION PILGRIMAGE ROUND THE\nHOLY MOUNTAIN KAILAS.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nWhere the river emerges into the Saka plain, we passed on its left side\nover a last small spur of the mountain on which the pass is situated,\nand here I rested for an hour with Robert, to draw a panorama of the\ninteresting country. Tsering marched on with his men, and disappeared as\na speck on the great plain. To the east-north-east the white houses of\nSaka-dzong could be seen in the distance, and with the glass we could\nmake out the camp, two black tents and a white, the latter Muhamed\nIsa's.\n\nThen we too passed across the plain. On the left stood four tents, where\nthe sheep were being driven into the fold for the night. At one place\nthe road divides; travellers who have nothing to do in Saka-dzong take\nthe southern road. We cross the Sa-chu river and the overflow of a\nspring; there is a strong wind from the west, and we long for the tents\nand the warmth of the camp-fires. At last we are there. Guffaru comes to\ngreet us, and all the others call out to us \"Salaam!\" and \"Ju!\" I look\nin vain for Muhamed Isa's stalwart figure, and inquire for him. \"He is\nlying in bed and has been ill all day,\" they answer. I suppose that he\nhas his usual headache again, go to the brazier in my tent, and let\nRobert, as usual, unpack the things I require for my evening work. We\nwere tired and chilled through and longed for our supper.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX\n\nMUHAMED ISA'S DEATH\n\n\nWe had not been sitting long when Rabsang came to say that Muhamed Isa\nhad lost consciousness, and did not answer when he was spoken to. I now\nperceived that he had had an apoplectic fit, and hurried off with Robert\nto his tent, which stood close beside mine. An oil-lamp was burning\nbeside the head of his bed, where his brother Tsering sat weeping. The\nsick man lay on his back, tall, strong, and straight. The mouth was a\nlittle drawn on the left side, and the pupil of the left eye seemed very\nsmall, while that of the right eye was normal. The pulse was regular and\nstrong, beating 72. I at once ordered hot bottles to be laid at his\nfeet, and a bag of ice on his head. His clothes were loosened; he\nbreathed deeply and regularly. The eyes were half open, but were\nlustreless. I called his name loudly, but he gave little sign; he tried\nto turn his head and move his right arm, uttered a low groan, and then\nremained still again. Robert was shocked when I told him that Muhamed\nIsa would not see the sun rise again.\n\nWhile we were sitting beside his bed I inquired the circumstances from\nRehim Ali and Guffaru, who had been with him all day long. During the\nfour days they had waited for us here, he had been quite well, and had\nnever complained of headache. He had tried, in accordance with the last\ninstructions I had given him at the camp in the Basang valley, to win\nthe friendship and confidence of the authorities. The day before he had\nbeen still in excellent spirits, had drunk tea with his most intimate\nfriends in the caravan, and had sung to the accompaniment of the\nguitar.\n\nOn this day, June 1, he had got up with the sun, drunk tea, and had had\na stormy interview with two Tibetans from the dzong. They had refused to\nsupply the caravan with provisions, and then insisted that the caravan\nshould leave the place at once. He had answered that the Sahib would\nsoon be back, and that it would go badly with them if they did not obey\nhim. They had gone away in anger, and then Muhamed Isa had breakfasted\nabout ten o'clock, and had slept an hour. When he rose, he had\ncomplained of headache.\n\nWhen the sun had reached its noonday height he had gone to look out for\nus, and had then had a violent attack of sickness, fallen on his left\nside and lain senseless. The other men hurried up, carried him to his\ntent, and massaged his body. He was restored thereby to consciousness,\nand spoke much but indistinctly, and chiefly with the god of Islam:\n\n\"I was a Lamaist but went over to Islam; help me now, O Allah, out of\nthis severe illness; let me recover; forgive me my sins and all the\nwrong I have done to others; let me live, O Allah, and I will always\nkeep thy commandments and will never omit my prayers.\"\n\nThen he had admonished the others to do their duty as heretofore, and\nthanked them that they had so patiently assisted him in his misfortune.\nNow and then he had asked for cold water. He had felt his left arm with\nhis right hand, and asked whose arm it was, and had also said that he\ndid not feel the shoe on his left foot. The whole left side was quite\nparalysed. Sitting upright, and supported by cushions, he had made the\nfollowing request to Guffaru: \"Thou, who art old, and keepest the\ncommandments of religion, wilt not pollute thy hands if thou takest a\nknife and cuttest my neck; cut deep down to the spine, for that will\nrelieve my infernal headache.\" In his fearful suffering he struck his\nright hand against a box. About an hour later another stroke deprived\nhim of speech, and after that he had only made a sign with his right\nhand, as though in despair at the approach of death. Towards four\no'clock Tsering had come and thrown himself over him, weeping loudly.\nMuhamed Isa had also wept, and pointed to his lips to intimate that he\ncould not speak. When we entered his tent about five o'clock his\nconsciousness was almost gone. He remained in the same condition for an\nhour and a half, breathing quietly, with his mouth closed. I went\ntherefore to my dinner, which Adul had prepared for me.\n\nRobert and I studied Burroughs and Wellcome's medical handbook, to see\nthat nothing had been omitted. About eight o'clock we returned to the\nsick-bed. Muhamed Isa was now breathing with his mouth open--a bad sign,\nshowing that the muscles of the jaws were relaxed; the pulse beat 108,\nand was very weak. The despair of old Tsering when I told him all hope\nwas gone, was heart-rending. Half an hour later the breathing became\nslower and weaker, and about nine o'clock the death-rattle commenced,\nand the struggle of the muscles of the chest to supply the lungs with\nsufficient air. About every fortieth respiration was deep, and then\nthere was a pause before the next came. They were followed by moans. His\nfeet grew cold in spite of the hot bottles, which were frequently\nchanged. At a quarter-past nine the breathing became still slower and\nthe intervals longer. A death spasm shook his body and slightly raised\nhis shoulders; it was followed by another.\n\nThe Mohammedans whispered to Tsering that he should leave his place at\nthe head, for a Mohammedan must hold the lower jaw and close the mouth\nafter the last breath. But the sorrowing brother could only be brought\nto leave his place by force. A third and last spasm shook the dying man,\nproduced by the cold of death. After a deep respiration he lay still for\n20 seconds. We thought that life had flown, but he breathed again, and\nafter another minute came the last feeble breath, and then old Guffaru\nbound a cloth under the chin and covered the face with a white kerchief.\nThen all was still, and, deeply moved, I bared my head before the awful\nmajesty of Death.\n\n[Illustration: 217. THE CORPSE OF MUHAMED ISA.]\n\nHorrified and dismayed, the Mohammedans poured into the tent, and the\nLamaists after them, and I heard them from time to time call out in\nlow tones, \"La illaha il Allah!\" Tsering was beside himself: he knelt by\nthe dead, beat his forehead with his hands, wept aloud, nay, howled and\nbellowed, while large tears rolled down his furrowed sunburnt face. I\npatted him on the shoulder, and begged him to try and compose himself,\ngo into his tent, drink tea, and lie down and rest. But he neither heard\nnor saw, and the others had to carry him to his tent, and I heard him\nwailing in the night as long as I lay awake. Yes, Death is an awful\nguest. We could hardly realize that he had so suddenly entered our\npeaceful camp.\n\nI had a long conversation with Robert in my tent, and old Guffaru was\nsent for to receive my orders for the funeral. The Mohammedans were to\nwatch in turn beside the body through the night. Early next morning the\npermission of the authorities would be obtained for the choice of a\nburying-place, and then the interment would take place.\n\nAt midnight I paid a last visit to my excellent, faithful caravan\nleader, who had fallen at his post in the prime of life. He lay long and\nstraight, swathed in a shroud and a frieze rug, in the middle of his\ntent. At his head burned his oil-lamp, slightly flickering in the\ndraught. The dead watch of five men sat mute and motionless, but rose\nwhen I entered. We uncovered his face; it was calm and dignified, and a\nslight smile played round the lips; the colour was pale, but slightly\nbronzed from the effect of wind and sun (Illust. 217). Arched over him\nwas the half-dark bell of the tent--the tent which had fluttered in all\nthe winds of heaven on the way through the Chang-tang, and from which\nMuhamed Isa's merry jests had so often been heard in quiet cold Tibetan\nnights amidst the sound of flutes and guitars. Now depressing silence\nreigned around; only the stars sparkled with electric brilliancy.\n\nHow empty and dreary everything seemed when I woke on Sunday, June 2,\nthe day of Muhamed Isa's funeral! I went out and looked at the grave; it\nlay about 300 yards to the south-west of the camp. The Mohammedans had\nbeen early in the village to borrow a door, and had washed the body on\nit. Then they had wrapped it in Guffaru's shroud, which was of thin\nlinen, but quite white and clean. Muhamed Isa and I had often laughed\ntogether over the old man's singular fancy of taking this death garment\non the journey. Over the shroud (_kafan_) they had wrapped a grey frieze\nrug. The body lay now in the bright sunshine before the tent, on a bier\nconsisting of the bottom of the two halves of the boat fastened\ntogether, and provided with four cross-poles for the bearers.\n\nWhen all was ready the eight Mohammedans raised the bier on to their\nshoulders, and carried their chieftain and leader, royally tall,\nstraight and cold, to his last resting-place. I walked immediately\nbehind the bier, and then came Robert and some Lamaists; the rest were\noccupied at the grave, and only two remained in the camp, which could\nnot be left unguarded. From Tsering's tent a despairing wailing could\nstill be heard. He had been persuaded not to come to the grave. He was\nheart and soul a Lamaist, and now he was troubled at the thought that he\nwould never see his brother again, who had looked forward to the\nparadise of the Mohammedans. Some Tibetans stood at a distance. Slowly,\nsolemnly, and mournfully the procession set itself in motion (Illust.\n218). No ringing of bells, no strewn fir-branches, no chants spoke of an\nawakening beyond the valley of the shadow of death. But above us the\nturquoise-blue sky stretched its vault, and around us the lofty,\ndesolate mountains held watch. In deep mournful voice the bearers sang,\n\"La illaha il Allah,\" in time with their heavy steps. They staggered\nunder their burden, and had to change it frequently to the other\nshoulder, for Muhamed Isa was big, corpulent, and heavy.\n\n[Illustration: 218. MUHAMED ISA'S FUNERAL PROCESSION.]\n\nAt length we ascended a gravel terrace between two source streams. The\nbier was placed at the edge of the grave, which was not quite ready\n(Illusts. 219, 220, 221). It was deep, lay north and south, and had a\ncutting or niche on the left side, under which the body was to be laid,\nso that the earth might not press on it when the grave was filled in.\nFour men stood in the grave and received the body, and placed it,\nwrapped only in the white shroud, under the arch, arranging it so that\nthe face was turned towards Mecca, where the hopes of all true believing\npilgrims are centred.\n\nScarcely was all set in order when a painful incident occurred, an evil\nomen: the overhanging vault of loose, dry gravel fell in, burying the\ncorpse completely, and partly covering the four men. There was silence,\nand the men looked at one another irresolute. Shukkur Ali broke the\noppressive silence, jumped into the grave, out of which the others\nclambered, dug out the body again, and removed the gravel from the\nshroud as well as he could. A wall was then erected of sods cut from the\nbank of the brook so as to protect the body, the outer space was filled\nin with sand and stones, and finally a mound a yard high was thrown up\nover the grave, two stone slabs being placed at the head and foot.\n\nWhen all was done the Lamaists went home, but the Mohammedans remained\nat the grave to pray for the deceased, sometimes kneeling, sometimes\nstanding up with their palms before their face. Shukkur Ali, who had\nbeen Muhamed Isa's old friend and comrade on many of his journeys in\nAsia, broke out into violent weeping and wailing, but the others mourned\nmore quietly. Finally, I said a few words in Turki. During all my\njourneys I had never had a more efficient, experienced, and faithful\ncaravan leader; he had maintained discipline in the caravan, been a\nfather to the men, and taken the best care of the animals; he had been\nan excellent interpreter, and had treated the natives with prudence and\ntact. By his happy, humorous disposition he had kept all the others in\ngood temper. In difficult situations he had always found the right way\nout. In unknown country he had climbed passes and summits to look for\nthe best route--he had always gone himself and not sent others. His\nmemory would always be cherished and honoured among us, and he had also\nearned a great name in the exploration of Asia, for during thirty years\nhe had served many other Sahibs as faithfully and honestly as myself.\n\nWe went silently home after our day's work.\n\nIn the lectionary of this Sunday occurred the Bible text, \"Thou fool,\nthis night thy soul shall be required of thee.\"\n\nMuhamed Isa had travelled far, and was highly respected in Asia. He had\nbeen in Saka-dzong before, in the year 1904, as Rawling and Ryder's\ncaravan leader. He little thought then that he would return once more,\nand here set up his tent for the last time after his long wanderings. In\nthe _Geographical Journal_ of April 1909, p. 422, Rawling refers to him\nas follows:--\n\n Having mentioned Saka Dzong, let me break off one moment to pay a\n token of respect to the memory of that faithful servant of Sven Hedin\n who died here. Mohamed Isa was one of the finest characters it has\n been my fortune to be thrown with. Trustworthy and indomitable in his\n work, his knowledge of Asia was unequalled by any native, for he had\n accompanied Younghusband in his famous journey from China, he was with\n Carey, with Dalgleish who was afterwards murdered, and with Dutreuil\n de Rhins, when he was a helpless witness of his master's violent death\n at the hands of the Tibetans. He acted as my caravan bashi in the\n Gartok expedition, accompanied Sven Hedin during his recent journey,\n and died, after thirty years of faithful service, at this desolate\n spot.\n\nFrom letters I subsequently received from Younghusband, O'Connor, and\nRyder, I learned that they also deeply mourned his loss.\n\nThe grave terrace rose close to the great high-road between Ladak and\nLhasa on its northern side. The mound was next day covered with cut sods\narranged in steps, and a small flagstone was set in the ground at the\nhead of the grave, whereon passing Mohammedans could spread out a carpet\nand pray for the repose of the deceased. On a slab of slate, smoothed\ndown with a chisel, I scratched the following inscription in English and\nin Roman letters:\n\n MUHAMED ISA\n CARAVAN LEADER UNDER\n CAREY, DALGLEISH, DE RHINS, YOUNGHUSBAND\n RAWLING, RYDER AND OTHERS\n DIED\n IN THE SERVICE OF SVEN HEDIN\n AT SAKA-DZONG, ON JUNE 1, 1907\n AT THE AGE OF 53 YEARS.\n\n[Illustration: 219, 220, 221. THE INTERMENT OF MUHAMED ISA.]\n\nThe writing was then cut in the stone by Islam Ahun. The name was also\nengraved in Arabic, and at the top the formula, \"Om mani padme hum,\" in\nTibetan characters, that the people of the country might respect the\ngrave. Future travellers will find the stone in its place--if the\nTibetans have not taken it away.\n\nIn the afternoon of June 3 I sent for Tsering to my tent. He was now\ncalm and resigned. He was to be my cook and body-servant as before, but\nhis pay would be raised to 20 rupees a month, and this rise was to date\nback to our departure from Leh. He was allowed to keep the watch I had\ngiven to his brother. Guffaru, the oldest of the men, was Muhamed Isa's\nsuccessor as caravan bashi, received the same increase of pay as\nTsering, and was allowed to use Muhamed Isa's grey horse and saddle. In\nfuture he would live with two other men in the tent of the deceased.\n\nAs I foresaw that the discipline would not be what it was in Muhamed\nIsa's time, I spoke seriously to the men, telling them that they must\nobey Guffaru as blindly as they had his predecessor, that they ought to\nhold together as before and continue to serve me faithfully. If any one\nbegan to quarrel and was disobedient, he would at once be handed the pay\ndue to him and be sent off to go where he liked. Now that we travelled\nwith hired yaks I could very well spare half the men, and therefore it\nwas their interest to conduct themselves so that they might be retained.\nRabsang and Namgyal answered in the name of all, that they would hold\ntogether, serve me faithfully, and follow me anywhere.\n\nThen Robert was commissioned to look through the property of the\ndeceased in the presence of Tsering, Guffaru, Shukkur Ali, Rehim Ali,\nand the Hajji, and after he had made an inventory, to pack it in\nseparate boxes, which were ultimately to be delivered to his wife in Leh\ntogether with his outstanding pay. Among his things were some articles\nof value which he had bought in Shigatse--carpets, tea-cups with metal\nsaucers and covers, ornaments, and woven materials. He had left behind\nonly 10 rupees in ready money, a proof that he had been thoroughly\nhonest in his management of the business of the caravan.\n\nAfter all relating to the interment had been carried out, the\nMohammedans came to ask for a few rupees to enable them to hold a\nmemorial feast in the evening in honour of the deceased. They would make\na pudding, called _halva_, of flour, butter, and sugar, drink tea, and\nkill a sheep. The heathen also, as the Mohammedans called their Lamaist\ncomrades, were to be present. They sang, ate, and drank, and probably\nhardly thought of the departed.\n\nTwo gentlemen from the dzong had been with me on June 2. The Governor\nhimself was absent, travelling in his province to number the tents under\nhis administration and to draw up a list of all the inhabited\nvalleys--all by order of the Chinese. Pemba Tsering, the second in\ncommand, was very agreeable and polite, but regretted that he could not\nsupply us with provisions any longer, as he must be prepared to furnish\nnecessaries to the men who were constantly passing to and fro between\nGartok and Lhasa. To confirm his words he called up the five Govas or\ndistrict inspectors of the country, who declared that the poor country\ncould not supply all the _tsamba_ and barley we required. I intimated to\nthem that we should still remain a few days awaiting the answer from\nLhasa; then they rose, protesting that I might stay here as long as I\nliked, but that they would not provide me with provisions.\n\nOn the same day a large white-and-blue tent was set up by our camp, but\nit was not till June 4 that the occupants, the Govas of Tradum and\nNyuku, paid me a visit. They had heard of our long stay, and wished to\nfind out the state of affairs for themselves. The Nyuku Gova began the\nconversation:\n\n\"Saka and Tradum are put down on your passport, but not Nyuku. Should\nyou, nevertheless, go thither, I will allow you to stay one night, but\nnot longer, for it is stated in the passport that you must travel\nstraight to Tradum.\"\n\n\"My dear friend,\" I replied, \"when once I am in your place we shall\nbecome such good friends that you will ask me to stay a whole month to\nconsolidate our friendship. Should you afterwards visit me in India,\nyour visit will be the more agreeable the longer it lasts.\"\n\nHe nodded with a roguish smile, and no doubt considered me a wag, but\nadded that he must obey the orders he had received from the Devashung.\n\n\"When I am in correspondence with the Mandarins in Lhasa, and am waiting\nfor their answer, the Devashung has no right to interfere.\"\n\n\"Very well, then it will be best for you to remain here and not come to\nTradum or Nyuku; provisions are still scarcer there.\"\n\nAfterwards Pemba Tsering came again, bringing two sacks of barley and a\nsheep. He had become much more compliant since he had talked with the\nother officials, and promised he would try to procure what we needed. We\nhad still two poor horses and a mule from Shigatse, and he was to have\none of the animals as a reward. After some consideration he chose the\nmule. The two horses we sold for a mere trifle to a stranger.\n\nNow we longed to get away from this miserable Saka-dzong and its sad\nassociations. Out in God's open, glorious Nature the winds blow away\nsorrow. We daily calculated, Robert and I, how long it would be before\nTundup Sonam and Tashi returned. If the answer were sent by the\nso-called Chinese flying post, it might arrive any moment. But the days\npassed and there was no news. One day some horsemen rode past our camp\non the way to the west, and reported that they had seen my two\nmessengers in Kung Gushuk's garden in Shigatse, but they knew nothing of\ntheir further intentions. \"Patience,\" whispered the west wind again. In\nthe maze of difficulties in which we became ever more involved, my hopes\nrested on the answer of the Chinamen. I had told the officials here that\nI would set off at once if they would allow us to take a more northern\nroute to Nyuku, but, as they would not hear of it, we remained where we\nwere.\n\nWhen I looked out of my tent my eyes were attracted to the dark grave on\nits hill. It seemed as if the grave held us fast, though we longed to\nget away from it. All was dreary and dismal; we missed Muhamed Isa, and\nhis absence caused a great blank. But life goes on as usual. When the\nsun rises, the women of the village stroll about collecting dung into\nbaskets, while the men drive the yaks and horse to pasture. They sing\nand whistle, children scream and dogs bark. Blue smoke rises from the\nchimneys of the village or from the black tents standing within walls\namong the houses. From the roof of the Saka-gompa with a statue of Padma\nSambhava the single lama of the monastery blows his conch. Ravens and\nbluish-grey pigeons pick up all kinds of morsels among the tents, and\nthe wolves which have come down in the night retire again to the\nmountains. Riders and caravans pass eastwards to a better land, where\npoplars, willows, and fruit trees are clothed in their finest summer\ndress. But we are prisoners in this desolate country, with Muhamed Isa's\ngrave as a focus.\n\nI soon perceived what a depressing effect the loss of the big powerful\ncaravan leader had on my men: they became home-sick. They talked of the\nwarmth of their own firesides, and they took to crocheting and knotting\nshoes for their children and acquaintances. They gathered round the\nevening fire and talked of the pleasant life in the villages of Ladak.\nRobert remarked how dreary and disagreeable Tibet was, and how warm and\ndelightful it was in India; he was pining for his mother and his young\nwife. I should like to know whether any one was more eager to be off\nthan myself, who had so much before me which must be accomplished. Yes,\nI saw only too plainly that I could not achieve all I was striving for\nwith my present caravan; it was worn out and used up, which was really\nnot to be wondered at after all it had gone through. My fate was driving\nme back to Ladak. But I must endeavour to make the most of my chances on\nthe way. And then? All was dark to me. But I knew that I would never\ngive in, and would not leave Tibet till I had done all that lay in my\npower to conquer the unknown land on the north of the upper Brahmaputra.\n\nOn the morning of the 5th came our old friend the Gova of Raga-tasam.\nHe had heard that we were in difficulties, and offered to speak a good\nword on our behalf to Pemba Tsering. Afterwards the two came to my tent\nand informed me that I might take the northern route to Nyuku. The Gova\nreceived one of our best horses for his trouble. Now we had six left of\nour own horses, among them three veterans from Leh, two other horses and\na mule. Next evening Guffaru came for the first time to receive\ninstructions, and on June 7 we set out early.\n\nI stopped a moment at the grave. It was striking and imposing in all its\nsimplicity. In its dark chamber the weary one slumbers till the end of\ntime. He listens to the howling of the western storms and the wolves, he\nfreezes in the cold of winter, but he does not see the summer sun, and\nwith longing for the well-remembered past he hears the horses stamping\non the hard pebbles. I thought of the Lama Rinpoche in his dark den at\nLinga.\n\nFarewell, and grateful thanks!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL\n\nALONG BYWAYS TO TRADUM\n\n\nThe day was brilliant; it was not spring, it was summer. Flies, wasps,\nand gadflies buzzed in the air, and worms of all kinds crept out of the\nground to enjoy the warm season, all too short here. It was hot, 70.2\u00b0\nat one o'clock. The sun seemed to be as scorching as in India. The\nSa-chu valley widens out westwards; wild-geese, herons, and ducks sit on\nthe banks of the river, and choughs croak on the mountain which we skirt\non the right side of the valley. The fresh grass has sprouted out of the\nearth in its green summer garb, but it will not really thrive till after\nthe warm rains. We meet a caravan of 200 yaks in five sections, each\nwith two whistling drivers.\n\n\"Whence have you come?\" I ask.\n\n\"From Tabie-tsaka, where we have been to fetch salt.\"\n\n\"Where does the lake lie?\"\n\n\"To the north, in Bongba, thirty days' journey from here.\"\n\n\"Does the road cross over high passes?\"\n\n\"Yes, there is a high pass twelve days to the north.\"\n\nAnd then they passed on with their light-stepping yaks towards\nSaka-dzong. It was the first time I had heard this important lake\nmentioned, and I envied the men of the salt caravan who had traversed\nthis way through the Trans-Himalaya quite unknown to Europeans.\n\n[Illustration: 222. WOMAN AT THE MOUTH OF THE CHAKTAK-TSANGPO IN THE\nTSANGPO.]\n\n[Illustration: 223. TIBETAN OF SAKA.]\n\n[Illustration: 224. LAMA IN SAKA-DZONG.\n\nSketches by the Author.]\n\nWe left the _tasam_ on our left; we turned aside north-westwards\nstraight to the Targyaling-gompa standing with its red _lhakang_, its\nsmall white buildings, and its large _chhorten_ on a terrace immediately\nabove the spot where Guffaru has pitched the camp. Twenty lamas came\ndown to find out whether we were thieves and robbers who intended to\nattack the convent. \"Certainly not,\" Guffaru answered, \"we are peaceful\ntravellers passing the night here.\" \"We will not allow it,\" they\nreplied; \"you must remain on the high-road.\" I now sent Rabsang up, and\nhe was surrounded at the gate by thirty monks. He was told the same; a\nEuropean had never been here, and none should ever enter the monastery.\nIf the gentlemen of the _dzong_ attempted to get us in, they should pay\nthe penalty with their lives. Charming ecclesiastics! Even Rabsang, who\nwas a Lamaist and wore several _gaos_ on his neck, was not allowed in.\nHe was in the service of a European. So inimically disposed were these\nmonks that they stopped up the channel we drew our water from. The\nDevashung, they said, had nothing to do with them. We had heard in\nSaka-dzong that these monks were bellicose and independent; there they\nhad said that the free-booter who had stopped us on May 31 must have\nbeen a disguised monk. But we could do without them and their monastery,\nwhich seemed small and unimportant.\n\nHere our four puppies fell ill of a peculiar complaint: they ran about\nrestlessly, snuffed and sneezed, had matter in their eyes, and no\nappetite. At night I heard one of my tent companions whine and howl, and\nnext morning he lay dead on his rug.\n\nLeaving Rawling's and Ryder's route to the left, we proceeded to the\nbank of the Chaktak-tsangpo and then northwards along the river. It has\na swift current, but does not form rapids; to the south is seen the\nportal through which it emerges from the mountains. At the village\nPasa-guk, which is larger than Saka-dzong, we bivouacked on the right\nbank. The river here was 141 feet broad, 2 ft. 7 in. deep at most, and\ncarried 629 cubic feet of water. On May 28 it carried 664 cubic feet,\nbut it receives the Sa-chu and other tributaries below the village\nPasa-guk.\n\nIn the middle of the village is a _serai_ with a large store of salt in\nbags. Here a market is held from time to time, salt being the medium of\nexchange. I tried to obtain further information about the country in\nthe north, but when I compared the different data together, the result\nwas a hopeless muddle. For instance, I asked travellers who came from\nTabie-tsaka, how far they marched each day, and where they passed lakes,\nrivers, and passes; and when I added the distances together and laid\ndown the direction on the map, the line reached to Kashgar, all through\nTibet and Eastern Turkestan! It was impossible to obtain useful data\nabout the country to the north. I must see it with my own eyes. But how\nwould that be possible?\n\nThe Hajji came to me, angry and excited, to complain that Guffaru had\nstruck him. I sat in judgment and heard evidence. The Hajji had refused\nto watch the horses when his turn came, and the caravan bashi had\ntherefore thrashed him. The sentence was, that the Hajji should receive\nhis discharge in Nyuku.\n\nRobert and I sat on the velvety grass on the bank and gazed with longing\neyes at the half-clear water dancing merrily on to its destination at\nthe coast. An old man and a youth joined us, and entertained us with\ndance and song. The old man danced and stamped on the ground in a\nthree-cornered mask of goat leather with red strips and bells, and the\nyouth sang this unintelligible song:\n\n Hail, O God, god of the pass!\n Many stars sparkle in the night.\n To-day is a fine day.\n Would that rain might come!\n Give me a bit of tea or a small coin.\n O, Cook, give me a pinch of meal and a radish.\n Such is the mask that is worn in the Chang-tang.\n At the right ear a curl, neither large nor small,\n At the left a pin, neither large nor small;\n Neither shade nor sun.\n There is a father's pin and a mother's pin.\n Everywhere we have pins with branches,\n For they guard us from all dangers.\n The horse holds his head high,\n And the rider holds his head high.\n The gods are high, the earth is low.\n You have gold and silver galore.\n May your cattle multiply, your flocks and your property increase!\n May your family increase!\n The King of Ladak sits between a golden and a silver king.\n Now is the song ended.\n\nOn June the 10th I left the Chaktak-tsangpo to the right, unfortunately\nwithout having learnt whence it comes. We ascended a side valley named\nRock, in a north-westerly direction. We had previously passed two towers\nwhich had formerly been the fort of a rebellious lama. He was at feud\nwith Saka-dzong, but was defeated. In the camp at the pool Churu the\nevening seemed to me fearfully long. Home-sickness had become\ninfectious. The Ladakis sang no more, but made shoes for their children,\nand thereby turned their thoughts more intently to their home. I too\nfound no rest after the day's work. If we only knew what answer the\nMandarins would send, but our messenger did not return. We seemed to\nhave stumbled into a morass and to be stamping in it without moving on.\nOh, thou dreary, awful Tibet, thou black, poor superstitious folk! In\nthe stillness of the night the step of the camp watchman was pleasant\ncompany.\n\nAfter a night temperature of 14.4\u00b0 we rode on westwards over a very flat\npass, a watershed between the Chaktak-tsangpo and Nyuku, along a road\nwhich had once been a _tasam_; numerous ruins and _manis_ were memorials\nof that time. The district was thickly peopled by nomads, and black\ntents were often seen where sheep bleated and dogs barked; women and\nboys guarded the flocks, and yaks grazed on the slopes. The country\ncalls to mind the summer pastures on the Pamir. A second puppy died in\nthe night, and was almost eaten up by ravens before morning.\n\nOn June 12 we came again to the _tasam_ at Nyuku where we set up our\ncamp. The Gova of Nyuku, whose friendship I had gained at Saka-dzong,\nwas very obliging, and said that I was quite at liberty to make another\ndetour to the north, as I seemed to dislike the high-road. It would take\nme up to a pass, where almost all the mountains of the world could be\nseen, especially Lumbo-gangri immediately to the north. Here we should\ncome in contact with people of the province of Bongba, who perhaps would\nsell us all necessaries. In Nyuku the third puppy died. The Tibetans\nsaid that it suffered from a throat complaint called _gakpa_, which is\nvery common in the country. Mamma Puppy gave herself no trouble about\nher little ones when they were ill, but seemed rather to avoid them. We\nwashed them with warm water, and tended them to the best of our power,\nand did everything we could think of to save the last. The Tibetans\ncould not understand how we could make such a fuss about a dog.\n\nBluish-white flashes quivered over the mountains all the evening, and\ntheir outlines stood out sharp and dark in the lightning. That is a sign\nof the setting in of the monsoon rains on the southern flank of the\nHimalayas, and all look forward to them. When rain falls up here, the\ngrass grows up in a couple of days, the cattle become fat and sleek, the\nmilk is thick and yellow; at the present time it is thin and white, and\nproduces little butter. The existence of the nomads, and indeed the\nprosperity of the whole country, depends on the monsoon. It is the\nsummer pasture which helps the herds to endure the scarcity of the rest\nof the year. If the rains fail, the stock languish and die.\n\nThe night is silent. Only occasionally is heard the hearty laugh of a\ngirl or the bark of a dog. The camp watchman hums an air to keep himself\nawake.\n\nThe 13th was a lazy day; we had to wait for Tundup Sonam and Tashi. I\nalways shave myself on rest days--it is pleasant to feel clean, even\nwhen there is no one to smarten oneself up for. Robert shot three\nwild-geese, and caught two yellow goslings which walked into his tent\nand made hay there. We put them in the crystal-clear Men-chu river,\nhoping that some kindly goose-mamma would take to them.\n\nFrom here it is said to be only four days' journey to a district in\nNepal, where there are fir-woods. Just fancy: fir-wood as in Sweden and\nin Simla! But we must remain in this dreary land.\n\nJust as we were starting on the following day the Hajji, Islam Ahun, and\nGaffar came to me, and demanded exemption from night duty and separate\nrations if they were to stay with me. I called all the other men\ntogether, and asked if any one else would join them now that they were\nto be dismissed. But no one wished to. Our Hajji, the only one of the\nMohammedans who had been in Mecca--had indeed been twice there--was the\nonly rascal in the caravan. He had instigated the others. In my\nexperience Mecca pilgrims are always scoundrels. The Hajji declared that\nhe preferred robbers and tramps on the road to Guffaru and the other\nLadakis. The three men vanished from sight as we marched north-westwards\nup the valley of the Men-chu.\n\nIn camp No. 177, on June 15, I held a grand reception, for some chiefs\nfrom the direction of Bongba came to visit me, and our old friend, the\nGova of Tradum, arrived. They decided that I might ride a short distance\nto the north, but only on condition that I came back the same day. So on\nthe 16th we rode on fresh hired horses up to the Kilung-la, where the\nview was instructive and showed the lie of the land. Before us was the\ndark Lumbo-gangri with its deep wild valleys and steep cliffs, its small\nglacier tongues and caps of eternal snow. The men of the district said\nthat the mountain was holy, and was a kind of portal or forecourt to the\nKang-rinpoche, the celebrated pilgrimage mountain near the sources of\nthe Indus. Behind Lumbo-gangri are the valley and river of the\nRukyok-tsangpo, which flows to the Chaktak-tsangpo. It was now clear to\nme that these summits, of which bearings were taken by Ryder and Wood,\ncould not lie on the watershed of the rivers flowing to the ocean. But\nno one knew the true aspect of the country farther north, and the Bongba\nmen had been ordered to stop us if we tried to force our way in that\ndirection. I could not by entreaties or threats obtain more than the\nview from the Kilung-la. The further we proceeded westwards the more of\nthe blank space on the map was left behind us. That was exceedingly\nannoying, but my hopes were still fixed on the Chinese letters from\nLhasa.\n\nOn the morning of the 17th all the mountains were covered with snow, but\nthe day was warm and fine as we rode up to the Serchung-la, and saw to\nthe south-west the northernmost crest of the Himalayas and the broad\nvalley of the Brahmaputra. The valley descending from the pass is full\nof brushwood and drifting sand, which is piled up in dunes to a height\nof nearly 20 feet.\n\nAfter an interesting and successful march we came to the valley junction\nDambak-rong. But the day was not yet over. We heard that Nazer Shah's\nson had arrived the day before at Tradum on his way to Ladak with\ntwenty-two mules. A messenger was therefore despatched to ask him to\nwait for us, and give us tidings of Tundup Sonam and Tashi. The Gova of\nTradum also rode home to get all in order against our arrival. A short\ntime passed by, and then a horseman came up at a smart trot from the\nSerchung valley. He had evidently followed our track; he rode straight\nto my tent, dismounted, and handed me a letter with a large seal,\nbearing the words, \"Imperial Chinese Mission, Tibet,\" and the same in\nChinese characters.\n\nNow our fate would be settled. The Ladakis crowded round my tent. I\nperceived that they hoped we should be obliged to return by the direct\nroad to Ladak. They longed for home, and were not inspired by the same\ninterests as myself. The tension was extreme as I opened the letter. It\nwas dated at Lhasa on June 3, and had been fourteen days on the way. It\nwas written in faultless English by Ho Tsao Hsing, first secretary to H.\nE. Chang (Tang Darin), and ran as follows:\n\n DEAR DR. HEDIN--Your letter to His Excellency Chang dated the 14th May\n was duly received. Knowing that you have arrived at Raka-tatsang, that\n Devashung hindered you to proceed forward. His Excellency is very\n sorry to hear such occurrence; and he instructed me to write you the\n following:--\n\n That in His Excellency's last letter to you he wrote you to return by\n the way you came; and now he does not understand why you are taking\n another road contrary to what he wrote you, consequently, you have met\n with such inconveniences, to which His Excellency regrets very much\n indeed. His Excellency has, now, again ordered Devashung and officials\n along the way to give you all possible protection and comfort, but he\n sincerely wishing you _not_ to change your direction to the N.W.,\n where both the country and people are wild [I wonder how he could know\n that], and that accidents might happen, which His Excellency can\n hardly bear any responsibility.\n\n Therefore, His Excellency wishes you only to return by the way as you\n came, not to venture in other directions.\n\n His Excellency gives his best regards to you and wishing you a happy\n and safe return.--I am yours very truly,\n\n HO TSAO HSING.\n\n[Illustration: 225, 226, 227, 228. TIBETAN BOYS AND GIRLS OF SAKA AND\nTRADUM.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nThat was all I got by the stratagem which had cost us so much loss of\ntime. A positive prohibition to proceed north-westwards to the land of\nmy dreams. Now the Devashung would issue fresh orders, and we should be\nwatched more closely than ever. Now the iron gates would be closed again\nfrom the south, and the way to the forbidden land barred. Tang Darin was\nas immovable as the State Secretary for India, Lord Morley. But he\nstimulated my ambition, and for that I have to thank him. To begin with,\nwe seized the copy of our passport, which was to be transferred from\nGova to Gova all along the road.\n\nBut not yet had this fateful day come to a close. At sunset came Tundup\nSonam and Tashi, dusty and ragged, with their bundles on their backs.\n\"Welcome and well done, 20 rupees each and new suits of clothes is your\nreward. What news?\" No letters, but only a note from Ma that he had\nforwarded my letters to Lhasa, and sent a letter from Gulam Kadir to\nMuhamed Isa. They had reached Shigatse in eleven days, and had rested\nthere three days. Then they had set out from Tashi-lunpo directly\nwestwards. They made a fast and long march on the first day, and climbed\nup to the pass Ta-la at sunset, where nine highwaymen, two with guns and\nthe others with swords, fell upon them and threw them to the ground. The\ntwo guns were set on their rests and the barrels pointed to the men's\nheads, the seven swords were drawn, and one of the robbers said:\n\n\"If you value your lives, hand out everything of value you have.\"\n\nFrightened out of their wits, the two Ladakis begged them to take all\nthey wanted if they would only spare their lives. The nine robbers then\nopened their bundles and thoroughly plundered them, taking even their\nlittle _gaos_ and images, as well as their cooking utensils and 18\nrupees in silver. They were allowed to keep the clothes they had on\ntheir backs. By pure chance the robbers had overlooked a small packet of\n30 _tengas_, which Tundup Sonam had put at the back of his girdle. The\nrobbers cleared them out in a minute, and then disappeared into the\nmountains. Our two defeated heroes remained weeping on the battle-field\ntill dark, and then they went off very slowly at first, turning round\nfrequently and fancying they saw a robber in every shadow, but\nafterwards they quickened their pace almost to a run. Deadly tired, they\ncrept under two boulders by the wayside, and next morning came to three\nblack tents, where they got food, and were told that a lama had been\nrobbed and stripped naked on the Ta-la two days before. But now they\nwere safe, and it was touching to see how delighted they were to be with\nus again. They had seen Muhamed Isa's grave, and the conversation about\nit reminded Tsering of his sorrow.\n\nOn June 18 we travel across open country to Tradum, our route following\nthe northern side of the valley while the _tasam_ runs along the\nsouthern. The ground was sandy. Small irritating horseflies buzz in the\nnostrils of the horses and drive them frantic. They walk with their\nnoses on the ground like the wild asses to escape the flies. To the\nright is the Tuto-pukpa, a mountain to which corpses are carried on yaks\nfrom Tradum to be cut up. We ride between pools where wild-geese are\nplentiful with their pretty yellow goslings. At a projecting rock,\ncairns and streamer poles are set up; the wall of rock is black, but all\nthe side facing the road is painted red--\"Ah, this is blood on Balder's\nsacrificial stone.\" Here the village of Tradum can be seen, its temple\nand its _chhorten_ on a hill. To the south-west the dark snow-crowned\nrampart of the Himalayas appears, wild, grand, and precipitous. To the\nsouth-east lies the _tasam_, a light winding riband, and our path runs\ninto it; it is 40 feet broad between grass-grown terraces of sand; it is\nthe great trunk-road of Tibet.\n\nWe had scarcely set up our camp when the discharged Hajji and his two\ncompanions came up and salaamed. But I was angry, and drove them away. I\nafterwards heard that they wept, and I was heartily sorry that I had\nbeen so unkind. But it was too late, for they were seen tramping out\nwearily into the steppe when the shades of evening fell.\n\nThe monastery Tradum-gompa is subject to Tashi-lunpo, and its five monks\nlive on the produce of their sheep and yaks, and carry on trade with\nNepal. Round the temple are eight _chhortens_, and in the _lhakang_, the\nhall of the gods, the immortal son of Sakya is enthroned between the\neleven-headed, six-armed Avalokitesvara and other deities. On a small\nhill of schist above the convent is a hermit's dwelling, where there is\na splendid view over the Brahmaputra valley and the Tsa-chu-tsangpo as\nit emerges from the mountains.\n\nHere died our fourth puppy, which I had hoped to keep as a remembrance\nof Shigatse. Mamma Puppy had now her mat to herself, and outside the\ntents lay the two black dogs from Ngangtse-tso.\n\nThe Gova of Tradum was an excellent, genial rogue, and had a thorough\ncontempt for the Devashung. He would not let me follow up the Tsa-chu\nvalley, but made no objection to an excursion to the Kore-la pass, two\ndays' journey off to the south-west, and belonging to the Himalayan\nrange which is the watershed between the Ganges and the Brahmaputra. He\nalso let us hire six horses, and gave us two guides for the journey,\nwhich was to be commenced on the morning of June 20.\n\nThe first night we were to encamp at the spot where the Tsa-chu-tsangpo\nenters the upper Brahmaputra. I rode south-south-west with my usual\nretinue over grassy steppe and sand-dunes. In front of us were three\nwanderers with bundles on their backs and staves in their hands. When we\novertook them they stopped, came forward, and laid their foreheads on\nthe ground at my feet. It was the Hajji and the two other men. I was\nglad of the opportunity of taking them into favour again. For the future\nthey were to follow our yaks.\n\nThe camp was pitched on the right bank of the river, at the foot of the\nhill crowned by the ruins of the old Liktse monastery. Here an important\ntrade-road crosses the river and a ferry maintains communication\nbetween the banks. The Tsa-chu river had here a breadth of 35\u00bd yards,\nand a depth of barely 40 inches, while the Brahmaputra was 120 yards\nbroad by 5\u00be feet deep, and was much more imposing than farther down. The\nabsolute height was 14,977 feet. It was not easy to carry the rope\nacross the stream, for a strong south-west gale was blowing and the\nwaves were high. Robert rowed out from the right bank with the rope, and\nfrom the left some Ladakis waded out as far as they could in the\nshallow, slowly deepening, water to catch the end thrown to them and\nsecure it on shore. When at last we had stretched the rope across, it\nbroke with the pressure of the wind and the waves, and the work had to\nbe done again. We noted a temperature of 53.6\u00b0 in the air and of 59.7\u00b0\nin the water, but the men were so chilled by the wind that they had to\nmake a good fire. It also rained heavily--the first rain we had had\nsince we left Ladak--and thunder rolled among the mountains.\n\nFor the first time the minimum temperature in the night, 37.8\u00b0, was\nabove freezing-point, and the morning was beautiful after the storm: the\nsky was only half covered with bright summer clouds, not a breath of air\nstirred, and the surface of the river was smooth as a mirror, only\nslightly broken by slowly moving whirlpools. The ferry was already\nplying across with passengers and goods. The ferryman is paid a _tenga_\nfor each passage, and he crosses over twice in the hour. Our horses and\nyaks were made to swim over the river after they had grazed at night on\nthe steppes on the left bank.\n\n[Illustration: 229. WOMAN OF NYUKU.]\n\n[Illustration: 230. TWO TIBETANS.]\n\n[Illustration: 231. THE GOVA OF TUKSUM.]\n\n[Illustration: 232. GIRL AT PASA-GUK.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nWe rode 21\u00bd miles on the 21st, but first paid a visit to the little\nLiktse-gompa monastery, which stands on the inner side of the hill, and\ntherefore has not the fine view obtained from the old ruined monastery\non the summit. From its window-openings the monks could watch the\noscillating life of the river during the various seasons of the year:\nits slow fall in spring; its rise during summer, when volumes of turbid\nwater come down from melting snowfields and glaciers; its decline in\nautumn, and the freezing of the river in the cold of winter. And they\ncould see the breaking-up of the ice in spring, and the great\nclattering slabs dancing down the current. But now the prospect before\nthe eyes of the ten monks is only a wretched loamy valley between barren\nhills, for their convent lies apart from all roads. Liktse-gompa is a\ndependency of Sera, but receives no support from it, and possesses no\nherds. The profits from the ferry are the only revenue of the monks. The\nabbot, Punjun Dung, with a red turban and a grey beard, showed me the\ngods in the _lhakang_, Buddha, Padma Sambhava, etc. Among the usual\nsacred objects on the altar were two human skulls converted into\ndrinking vessels, one of them lined with silver. In the courtyard the\nholy dog was chained up.\n\nThen we mounted and rode off quickly. We perceived at once that this\nroad is much frequented. On the steppe and in open soft valley bottoms\nit is less clearly marked, for there every one marches where he likes;\nbut over passes and on spurs with hard stone the tracks converge from\nall sides, and there the road has been trodden down and worn in the\ncourse of centuries. On the small pass Tsasa-la we met a large caravan\nladen with barley.\n\n\"Where have you come from?\" I ask.\n\n\"From Mundang in the country of Lo Gapu.\"\n\nMundang is marked on the English maps of Nepal, but who was Lo Gapu,\n\"the King of the Southern Land\"? It sounded so grand.\n\nThe next pass is called Dorab-la, and from the top we see the\nChockar-shung-chu, a broad valley with a brook draining partly from the\nKore-la, and flowing to the Brahmaputra.\n\nWhile we are resting, Guffaru passes with his black baggage-train in\nclose order, a troop of laden yaks, whistling and singing Tibetans, and\nsome Ladakis with our own horses as a rearguard. They soon disappear in\nthe dust of the road, two of our men resting a while in a cleft to take\na puff or two from their weather-worn narghil\u00e9s. From this point they\nmarch westwards to the rendezvous, while we continue southwards.\n\nIn the valley leading up to the Ngurkung-la a large salt caravan on the\nway to Nepal was encamped. The twelve leaders had piled up a fine\nshelter of sacks of salt against the violent wind. We then came to the\nvery broad valley which ascends to the saddle of the pass visible in the\nsouth. We rode up for hours, though the ascent was not noticeable, but\nthe wind was dead against us. To the right is the water-parting chain of\nthe Himalayas which we had seen from Tradum. A curious, sharply outlined\ncloud, like a white torpedo, covered it, and from the northern extremity\nsmall fleecy flakes parted from time to time and floated away. We camped\nnear some black tents in a side valley close to the extraordinarily flat\npass.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI\n\nA PEEP INTO NEPAL\n\n\nIt was on June 22 that I stood on the platform of the Kore-la pass and\ngave a stolen glance into Nepal, and tried to get a glimpse of\nDhaulagiri peak, 26,670 feet high. But the morning was dull, heavy\nclouds lay like pillows on the earth, and nothing could be seen of the\nsurrounding mountains. \"We must wait till it clears,\" was the only order\nI could give. But just then a milk-girl came from a camp of 20 tents\nwhich was near at hand. The people were Nepalese subjects, but were\ncamping on the Tibetan side. The girl said that it was only a short\nday's journey to the nearest permanent dwellings and gardens, and two\ndays' journey to Lo Gapu's summer residence.\n\nThen we thought: \"We may as well ride down the southern side of the pass\nas stay up here in the wind.\" No sooner said than done! The tents are\nfolded up, the animals laden, we mount and ride along the eastern side\nof the valley up to the Kore-la, which from the Tibetan side little\nresembles a pass, for to the eye the grass-grown on unfruitful loose\nground seems quite level. Of the snowy mountains on the western side of\nthe valley only the dark base is visible; layers of clouds lie close\nabove the earth; one feels as though one could push one's head against\nthe roof. A ruined house, where perhaps a frontier guard once dwelt, a\ncouple of long _manis_, and loose blocks of conglomerate stand on the\ntop. A caravan comes up from Nebuk in the bottom of the valley.\n\nWe look round in vain for the actual watershed, and find it only by\nnoticing rivulets running together and flowing southwards. Here we light\na fire and take observations. The view is marvellous, at any rate a\nrelief such as we have not seen for a long time. The mighty snowy\nmountains to the south, which yesterday broke through the clouds, are,\nindeed, obscured, but our valleys fall steeply and unite into a large\nvalley, in the depths of which grassy plots and fields shine in deep\nspring verdure amid the everlasting grey, yellow, and red landscape.\nDown below the sun is shining, and behind us the sky is clear above the\nBrahmaputra valley, while here and round all the snowy mountains float\nopaque clouds. From the saddle lying west of our point of vantage\ninnumerable valleys radiate out; the surface of the ridges between them\nis nearly level, or dips gently to the south-east, while the valleys are\ndeeply cut in like ca\u00f1ons, and the promontories at the meeting of the\nvalleys are broken short off. Perhaps some of the nearest peaks of the\nHimalayas rise like islands above the sea of clouds, for here and there\na reflexion from sun-lighted firn-fields seems to be trying to break\nthrough the veil of clouds (Illust. 233).\n\n[Illustration: 233. VIEW FROM THE KORE-LA TOWARDS THE SOUTH-WEST.]\n\nWe stand on the frontier between Tibet and Nepal. Behind us to the north\nwe have the flat, level land on the southern bank of the Tsangpo. We\nhave mounted only 315 feet from the river to the Kore-la, where the\nheight is 15,292 feet. And from the pass there is a headlong descent to\nthe Kali Gandak, an affluent of the Ganges. By means of a canal cut\nthrough the Kore-la the Brahmaputra might be turned into the Ganges.\nNorthern India needs water for irrigation, but the gain would perhaps be\nsmall, for the Brahmaputra in Assam would be as much diminished as the\nGanges was increased. Tibet would lose by the change, and a number of\nvillages on the Kali Gandak would be swept away. A new road would be\nopened for the invasion of India from the north, and therefore on the\nwhole it is perhaps best for all parties concerned to leave things as\nthey are. But the changes here indicated will some time come to pass\nwithout artificial aid, for the tentacles of the Kali Gandak are eating\nback northwards into the mountains much more quickly than the Tsangpo\nis eroding its valley. Some time or other, perhaps in a hundred thousand\nyears, the Ganges system will have extended its tentacles to the bank of\nthe Tsangpo, and then will be formed a bifurcation which, in the course\nof time, will bring about a total revolution in the proportions of the\ntwo rivers and their drainage areas.\n\nNow we are in Nepal and go on foot down the declivities. Here little has\nbeen done to improve the road. Occasionally an awkward block of granite\nhas been rolled away, leaving a gap in the breastwork; in other respects\nthe caravan traffic has done most for the road, wearing it down. It is\neasy and pleasant to go down southwards towards denser air; it becomes\nwarmer, and we breathe more easily; the verdure increases, and flowers\nof different colours make the grass gay. We try to forget that we must\ntoil up all these slopes again; let us go down, down, to enjoy a summer\nlife, if only for twenty-four hours, and forget dreary Tibet. An hour\nago the wind blew icy cold on the pass, and now we feel the soft zephyrs\ngently caressing the heights. Robert takes in deep draughts of the tepid\nair and fancies he hears a whispered welcome to India; Tsering and\nRabsang become lively and contented, and I muse over a visit to the King\nof the Southland.\n\nThree horsemen rode slowly up the ascent. Two of them were turning their\nprayer-mills. They looked astonished. We asked whence they came and\nwhither they were going. They were going to the tent village on the\nplateau. When they were told who we were, in answer to their question,\nthey dismounted and begged pardon for not greeting us at first. I\nreadily forgave them, for I looked like a ragged tramp. They advised us\nto pass the night in one of the houses of Lo Gapu, and invited us to\nvisit them in their tent village on our way back.\n\nThe gradient becomes less steep, and we come to an expansion where three\nvalleys meet, the Kungchuk-kong, which we have followed, in the middle,\nthe Pama on the east, and the Damm on the west. From the Damm valley\nonly comes a small gushing brook. We pass along the right side of the\nunited valley. On the same side a very large valley opens, the\nYamchuk-pu, with an irrigation channel running down from its brook to\nthe villages and fields below. In the village Yamchuk we come to the\nfirst houses and trees. On the left side of the valley lies a large\nmonastery with avenues of trees and long rows of _manis_; it is called\nGubuk-gompa. Fields, grassy patches, and bushes become more numerous.\nThen comes a succession of villages on the left side of the valley,\nwhich is barely 2\u00bd furlongs broad.\n\nBelow the side valley Gurkang-pu, on the left, pebble beds stand in\nperpendicular walls with numerous caves and grottos. These are\napparently used as dwellings, for they are connected with the houses and\nwalls in front of them. Lower down we come to the village Nebuk, among\ngardens. The architecture is of the usual Tibetan style, white and red\nmasonry, flat roofs, and decorations of streamer poles. The vegetation\nbecomes more luxuriant and the fields larger. We frequently pass ruined\nwalls and towers, perhaps relics of the time when Nepal was at feud with\nTibet. Now the densely peopled and well-tilled valley has a peaceful\naspect, and no frontier guards hinder our advance.\n\nThe usual _manis_ lie along the road, and a large red _chhorten_ or\n_stupa_ has a touch of the Indian style. Below three villages lying\nclose together the valley contracts slightly. Near a lonely house we\nencamped in a lovely garden, with fine green trees, among waving\ncornfields. A woman told us that this place, called Nama-shu, belonged\nto Lo Gapu, and that no one might stay in the garden without his\npermission. However, we established ourselves there, and inhaled with\ndelight the mild dense air, and heard the wind rustling through the\ntree-tops.\n\nSoon two men appeared, who were in the service of Lo Gapu, asking for\ninformation about us. They said that we were in the district Tso, and\nthat the river was called Tso-kharki-tsangpo. A village we can see just\nbelow our camp was named Nyanyo, and from there Mentang, the residence\nof Lo Gapu, could be reached by crossing only two spurs of the\nmountains, He, they said, was a frontier chief, who paid no tribute to\nthe Maharaja of Nepal, but was obliged to pay a visit to His Highness\nevery fifth year. He had 500 subjects. The people for three days farther\nsouth were Lamaists and spoke a Tibetan dialect, in which, however, many\nIndian and Persian words were incorporated.\n\nWhen one of the men had obtained all the information he desired, he rode\ndown the valley to make his report to the frontier chief. Meanwhile we\nheld a consultation. I had only Robert, Tsering, Rabsang, and two\nTibetans with me, and our funds consisted of only 24 rupees. The\ntemptation was great to wander a few days more southwards through the\nwild deep valleys of the Himalayas. Here, in the Nama-shu camp, we were\nat a height of 12,487 feet, and therefore 2805 feet lower than the\nKore-la. Every day's journey southwards would bring us into a denser\natmosphere, and even now we were not far from shady coniferous woods.\nBut would it be prudent to advance further into Nepal? We were much\npuzzled, and considered the matter from all sides. Our money would not\nlast more than two days. Our horses belonged to the Gova of Tradum, and\nwe had agreed with him that we would only take a look into Nepal from\nthe Kore-la, and now we had crossed the boundary and descended into a\nland where our position was less secure than in Tibet. We might fall\ninto a trap before we were aware of it. Lo Gapu might arrest us and ask\nfor orders from Khatmandu. The greatest danger, however, was that the\nTibetans might close the frontier and render our return impossible, and\nthen say that now we had left their country we might not enter again.\nAnd then we should be cut off from the main caravan, and all the results\nof my journey would be endangered. I therefore decided to turn back\nearly next morning before Lo Gapu's men had time to come up and arrest\nus.\n\nThe evening was fine and long, and we enjoyed it thoroughly under the\nrustling of the thickly foliaged trees. I felt perfectly comfortable and\nbreathed freely: the heart had not to labour so heavily as on the\nChang-tang; it worked for hours together without an effort; our feet\nwere warm, and we slept as we had seldom done. For in the Chang-tang if\none sleeps even eight hours one does not feel rested and refreshed on\nrising; one does not derive the proper benefit from sleep. Here we\nexperienced a thoroughly comfortable feeling after our night's rest, and\nour only disappointment came from the clouds, which concealed the\nsummits of the Himalayas to the south and south-south-west. Only now and\nthen the peaks looked forth for a minute.\n\nOn June 23 we mounted our horses again. We had heard no word of Lo Gapu.\nWhen the messenger had left us he was convinced that we should continue\nour way down the valley, and the little potentate was perhaps now\nexpecting our arrival. He might wait! We rode slowly up to the Kore-la,\nleft our old road to the right, and camped at Kung-muga.\n\nI was sitting at my drawing when a horseman came clanking up. He held in\nhis hand a green flag, a messenger's badge among the Chinese and\nTibetans. I felt sure that he had some connection with strict measures\nagainst us, but found that he was only the bearer of a proclamation from\nLhasa to all the stations as far as Gartok, that horses and baggage\nanimals should be supplied to two Chinamen who had been despatched to\nfind me out and talk with me, and convey to me a letter from His\nExcellency, Lien Darin. They might be expected any moment.\n\nMidsummer Day was as dull as possible. The whole country was buried in\nimpenetrable fog, and even the adjoining tents were invisible. And when\nit had cleared a little, the mountains were still concealed. We rode\nnorth-westwards on an excellent road, and were astonished at the\nnumerous _manis_ with their close, fine, raised inscriptions on purple\nand dark-green schist; other prayer stones had characters 1.2 or 1.6\ninches high, while the largest characters were nearly 8 inches high, so\nthat there was only room for one character on each slab. Then six slabs\nwere placed in a row to spell out the sacred formula, \"Om mani padme\nhum.\" On some votive stones the characters were red, cut out in round\npieces of granite with a white underlayer. The largest _mani_ was 262\nfeet long.\n\n[Illustration: 234. GULAM RAZUL'S TENTS IN GARTOK.]\n\n[Illustration: 235. LANDSCAPE IN UPPER NEPAL.\n\n View looking South from Camp 182, Nepal.]\n\nWe passed encampments with large herds; wild asses grazed along with\ntame yaks. All the men we met halted and saluted us. The Gova of Tradum\ncame to meet us; he pulled a very solemn face, and wondered whether Lo\nGapu would be angry at our visit to Nepal. We reached Bando, near the\nsmall lake Tsotot-karpo, over the small saddle Tasang-la, and found\nGuffaru waiting for us with the caravan.\n\nOn the 25th we made a short march up to Chikum, whence the Tsotot-karpo\nis still visible. We had only provisions for one day, but the Gova of\nTradum offered to procure more if we would pay well for the horses we\nhad to hire. He had no fear, he said, of the Chinese who were coming; if\nthey scolded him for allowing us to travel on the south bank of the\nTsangpo, he would reply that it was easier to supply us with provisions\nthere than on the north side. He had formerly been a lama in\nTashi-gembe, but had lost his heart to a lady. To hush up the affair he\nhad started on a pilgrimage to Kang-rinpoche, but was caught and\nforbidden to return. Then he had gradually worked his way up, and was\nnow chief of Tradum, and was just as great a rascal in secular life as\nhe had been in the religious life. However, he rendered us good service.\n\nThe view from our elevated camp was magnificent. When the full moon had\nrisen up in the sky the small lake shone like a silver blade. The sun\nhad left only an afterglow on the western horizon, but the whole plain\nof the Brahmaputra and the mountains of Chang-tang in the north were\nclearly defined in dull clear shades, which left all the finer details\nindistinguishable. A cloud with bright, silvery, white margins floated\nbefore the moon. A little to the right another cloud caught a reflexion\nof the sun, and showed golden margins. They were the angels of night and\nday fighting for supremacy. Soon night had won the victory, and now the\nmoon cast a bright path over the lake, while all around was involved in\na general mist.\n\nWhen day had resumed its sway we rode in the morning air through swarms\nof flies, stinging gnats, and horseflies up over the Tagu-la and down\nthe Tambak valley. To the west the most northerly chain of the Himalayas\nmade a magnificent display, and to the north-west lay the broad open\nvalley of the Brahmaputra, the river winding along the middle like a\nblue riband. This evening, too, the return of night called forth a\nbrilliant play of colours and tone-effects. Light, restless, motionless\nto the eye, but riven by the upper winds like old prayer-streamers on a\npass, the clouds sailed at sunset in the vault of heaven. The moon, the\nfriend of all nocturnal wanderers and sleepers in the open air,\nillumines the surroundings of our tents, among which the blue smoke of\nthe camp-fires lies like a veil over the ground. The yaks stand still as\nshadows, and now and then their teeth are heard grinding against the\ncartilaginous process of the upper jaw. The Tradum Gova and his servants\nhum their evening prayer and rattle their prayer-mills.\n\nIn the morning comes a quickly passing shower and another before noon.\nWe notice all the signs of the sky, and wish for rain as much as the\nTibetans, not on our own account, but for the light-footed antelopes,\nthe wild asses, and the mountain sheep. The clouds are blue-black over\nthe mountains to the south, and from them hang down elegantly curved\nfringes and draperies heavy with rain. One can hear in imagination the\ndrops splashing on the stones, and new-born torrents rushing down the\nvalleys. The trifling rain that has fallen in our neighbourhood can only\nmoisten the ground for a short time. The drops made a pleasant sound as\nthey pelted on the Tradum Gova's umbrella and on my Curzon hat. Thunder\nrolled heavily and solemnly round about in the mountains, like an echo\nof the trumpet of the last judgment.\n\n[Illustration: 236. A CHHORTEN IN NEPAL.]\n\n[Illustration: 237. GROUP OF TIBETAN WOMEN.]\n\nThen we cross the Nerung-tsangpo, come out into the great valley plain\nof the Brahmaputra, and encamp in a country inhabited by numbers of\nnomads. The Gova of Nagor was a tall, agreeable man, who procured us\n_tsamba_, _chang_, and goose eggs--a pleasant change from our perpetual\ndiet of mutton. Robert and Shukkur Ali caught fish. The Gova told me\nthat his parents, who belonged to Kham, had made a pilgrimage to the\nKang-rinpoche and had left their little son behind, either by mistake\nor on purpose. The youngster had grown up in the tents of the wild\nnomads, and now, though a stranger, had become the chief of the\ndistrict.\n\nOn the morning of the 28th we rode up to Namla-gompa, on a rocky\nprominence, where the view was extensive and instructive. At the eastern\nfoot of the projecting mountain lies the village Namla, a few poor stone\ncabins, and here the river Pung-chu, flowing out of the lake Ujam-tso,\nenters the plain. The monastery contains some images of gilded bronze,\nand seven monks, of whom one, a man of sixty-six, has lived fifty years\nwithin its walls. They are poor and have to beg, but they receive\nfreewill offerings from the nomads living in the neighbourhood.\n\nAcross a plain of cracked loamy soil, which is flooded at high water, we\ngain our camp on the bank of the Tsangpo; the river looks like a lake,\nand that this is also the case in late autumn is shown in Ryder's\nremarkably conscientiously drawn and accurate map. The breadth here is\n973 yards broad, and the maximum depth only 2.4 feet. It may, therefore,\nbe easily waded, and the yak caravan marches quietly through the water.\nHow different it is farther east, where the river, hemmed in between\nsteep mountains, is deep and tumultuous! In late summer it cannot be\nwaded here, and even a boat dare not venture over because of the\ntreacherous, shifting sand-banks. During our measurements the Ladakis\nwent across the river, measuring the breadth with poles and ropes, and\nheld the boat still while I investigated the velocity of the current.\nWhen the work was finished, Rehim Ali began to carry Robert to the bank,\nbut he slipped on the smooth, clayey bottom, and both took an\ninvoluntary bath, causing all the rest of us to laugh heartily.\n\nNext day the fragile baggage was conveyed across in a boat, and the rest\non hired yaks, which tramped through the turbid dirty-grey water. On the\nnorthern bank we ride through peculiar country. Here are lakes and\nswamps, caused by arms of the river, and lying amid a collection of\nsandhills as much as 26 feet high. We try all directions to avoid\nsandhills and deep creeks, and frequently ride straight through basins\nwith yielding ground; in some there is a slight current, while others\nare stagnant. Here and there islets of sand rise out of the water, some\nbarren, others with grass and stalks. It is a thoroughly disintegrated\ncountry, but full of pleasing variety. Gnats pursue us in regular\nclouds. Some men go in front to pilot us. We often get into deep water\nand have to turn back. The high water washes away the greater part of\nthe driftsand, and deposits it on the banks of the Brahmaputra lower\ndown. But when the river falls, fresh sand accumulates and forms new\ndunes. The driftsand therefore finds a resting-place here on its way to\nthe east. We encamped by the last lagoon, and heard the fishes splashing\nin the water. The whole country reminds me of Lob, the swampy region in\nEastern Turkestan, and the continual struggle there between driftsand\nand flowing water. The district is named Dongbo, and here the Gova of\nTuksum and other chiefs awaited us. The first-named had heard that the\nChinamen, of whose coming we had been informed, had left Saka-dzong and\nwere on their way hither. He expected that they would arrive before\nevening.\n\nOn June 30 we made most of our march along the _tasam_, on which Nain\nSing and the English expedition had travelled; for I durst not pass\nround Tuksum, which was mentioned on my passport. The greater part of\nthe way runs among fine, regular, crescent-shaped dunes, which move\neastwards over the plain before the prevailing wind. They are ephemeral\nphenomena: they live and die, but are always replaced by others. The\nhorns of the crescent protrude far in the direction of the wind, and the\nslope is very steep on the windward side, as much as 17 degrees, while\non the sheltered side it is as steep as the falling sand will allow.\n\nGanju-gompa stands on an isolated hill to the west of the Ganju-la. It\nis subordinate to the Brebung monastery, and has a _lhakang_ with twelve\npillars and four rows of divans, as well as four large drums. The\nstatues of the gods look down with gentle smiles on the homage paid to\nthem by nomads and travellers. Only five monks and as many dogs live in\nGanju.\n\nThe whole population of Tuksum came out to meet us before their village.\nIt was agreed with the Gova that Guffaru and the main caravan should\nproceed to Shamsang, while I with a couple of attendants travelled by\nforbidden roads on the south side of the river. In the evening a\ndeputation of Ladakis came to wait on me with the request that they\nshould be allowed to give a feast in honour of Muhamed Isa, to be paid\nfor out of his outstanding pay. But I thought this a little too cool,\nseeing that the money belonged to the widow of the deceased. They might\nhave a feast, however, at my own expense, but there would be nothing but\nmutton, _chang_, and tea.\n\nOn the morning of July 1 I had another application, this time from five\nyoung beggar girls, ragged and black, with bundles in frames of wood on\ntheir backs, and large pilgrims' staves in their hands. They had been,\nlike so many others, at the Kang-rinpoche, and reckoned it a year's\njourney to their home in Kham. They beg their way from tent to tent. It\nmust be a serious burden to the nomads to maintain the numerous pilgrims\nthat pass along this road.\n\nWe said good-bye to Guffaru and his followers on July 2, and riding in a\nsouth-westerly direction over the plain, set up our camp 191 on the left\nbank of the Brahmaputra, which here carried down 1978 cubic feet of\nwater. Next morning the baggage was taken over, and we had also the\nhonour of helping over the river a high lama, whose acquaintance I had\nmade in Tashi-lunpo. He wore a yellow robe with a red mantle, and had a\nsmall yellow wooden hat as bright as metal. His servants were armed with\nguns and swords, and took all their baggage over the river on yaks. But,\nunfortunately, the yaks got into deep water and began to swim, so that,\nof course, all their baggage was thoroughly soaked. We also helped a\nshepherd with some lambs over to the other side, and if we had waited\nlonger we might have done a ferryman's work all day with our boat\n(Illusts. 240, 241).\n\nThen we crossed over two other arms, and the total discharge of the\nBrahmaputra at this place proved to be 3249 cubic feet. The figures,\nhowever, obtained on gauging the river so near its source, are of\ninferior value, especially when the melting of the snow has quite set\nin, partly because the source streams rise towards evening, carrying the\nwater from the day's thaw down to the main valley, partly because the\nvolume of water depends to a great extent on the weather. At the first\ndownpour of rain the rivers are little affected, for the water is\nabsorbed by the dry soil; but when this is soaked through, the water\nruns off, and the rivers swell enormously after a single rainy day. When\nthe sky is overcast without rain they fall, but in quite clear weather\nthe sun thaws the snow and causes the rivers to rise again.\n\nIt was a long day's journey, for in many of the tents the people refused\nto give us the help we wanted, and therefore we passed on to the great\ntributary Gyang-chu, which comes from the south and receives many\nstreams from the northernmost range of the Himalayas.\n\nI have no time to give an account of the geography of this region on the\nsouth side of the Brahmaputra. I will only say that during the following\ndays we were cut off from the main river by low mountains, and that we\ndid not encamp again on its bank till July 6, when we came to the Cherok\ndistrict. We had left several tributaries behind us, and the main stream\ncarried only 1554 cubic feet of water.\n\nAfter another short day's march we rejoined Guffaru's party in Shamsang\n(15,410 feet) on the great high-road, where twenty-one tents were now\nstanding. The chiefs of the neighbourhood were very attentive, and did\nnot say a word against my proposal to go up to Kubi-gangri, which shows\nits snowy peaks to the south-west, and in which the sources of the\nBrahmaputra were said to lie. They procured us provisions for twelve\ndays, and we had not had so free a hand for some time. Here nothing had\nbeen heard of Chinese or Tibetan pursuers from Lhasa.\n\n[Illustration: 238. WOMEN IN THE VILLAGE OF NAMLA.]\n\n[Illustration: 239. INHABITANTS OF THE VILLAGE OF NAMLA.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII\n\nIN SEARCH OF THE SOURCE OF THE BRAHMAPUTRA\n\n\nNow we were already far to the west; the force of circumstances had\nforced us to leave behind us step by step ever larger areas of unknown\ncountry to the north. I was vexed, but I would, at any rate, endeavour\nto do all that was possible in my hampered condition. At Shamsang,\nRyder's Lahtsang, we were at the place where the actual source streams\nof the Brahmaputra converged from various directions. I had long\ndetermined to push on to the unknown source, unless the Tibetans placed\nunsurmountable obstacles in my way.\n\nThe learned and clear-sighted Colonel Montgomerie had sent Nain Sing in\nthe year 1865 up the valley of the upper Brahmaputra (Illust. 380). From\nour Shamsang the Pundit crossed the Marium-la, and said in his report\nthat the sources of the river were certainly in the huge chain seen in\nthe south, and were fed by its glaciers. He did not, however, go to look\nfor the actual sources, but continued his journey westwards.\n\nThe next year, 1866, Thomas Webber made an excursion into Tibetan\nterritory, and his route lay a little to the south of Nain Sing's. On\nhis sketch-map it may be seen that he crossed some of the source streams\nof the Tsangpo, but of the tract in which the sources are situated he\ngives no further indication than \"Snowy ranges unexplored.\" And when he\nsays in his text that here are the sources of the great Brahmaputra,\nwhich have their origin in the Gurla glaciers, the confusion is\nhopeless; for the sources of the river lie 60 miles from Gurla, a\nmountain which has nothing whatever to do with the Brahmaputra.\n\nThe political expedition which, under the command of Rawling in the\nclose of the year 1904, had Gartok for its destination, and the chief\nresult of which was the admirable map of the upper Brahmaputra valley\nsurveyed by Ryder and his assistants (Map 7), travelled from Shamsang\nover the Marium-la and north of the Gunchu-tso to Manasarowar. It was\ntherefore of the greatest importance to me to travel to the south of\ntheir route through country they had not touched on. They travelled by\nthe same road as Nain Sing, and left the source of the river at a\ndistance of 40 miles to the south. From Ryder's report it might be\nsupposed that he considered the Marium-la to be the cradle of the\nBrahmaputra; but in a letter I have recently received from him, he\nstates that such is not the case, but that he always recognized that the\nactual source must lie among the mountains in the south-west, which he\nhas set down on his map from bearings taken of their peaks. Ryder also\nremarks in his report that the principal headwaters come from there.\n\nInstead of entering into a diffuse discussion of the problem, I\nintroduce in this book small sketches of the maps of my three\npredecessors, Nain Sing, Webber, and Ryder. No other traveller had ever\nbeen in this region, and I would on no account miss the opportunity of\npenetrating to the actual source of the Brahmaputra and fixing its\nposition definitely.\n\nHow was this to be done? At Shamsang the source streams meet, and below\nthis point the united river bears the name Martsang-tsangpo. First of\nall, I must, of course, gauge the quantities of water in the source\nstreams, and, if they were nearly equal, we must be content to say that\nthe Brahmaputra has several sources.\n\nWith ten men, the boat, and the necessary measuring apparatus, I betook\nmyself first, on July 8, to the point on the southern side of the valley\nwhere two streams run together, the Kubi-tsangpo from the south-west and\nthe Chema-yundung from the west. A short day's march farther west the\nChema-yundung receives the Marium-chu, which comes from the Marium-la.\nFirst the united stream was gauged, and found to discharge 1554 cubic\nfeet of water per second, and immediately after the Chema-yundung, which\ndischarged almost 353 cubic feet. Subtracting this from the volume of\nthe united river, we get 1201 cubic feet as the discharge of the\nKubi-tsangpo. This river is then three and a half times as large as the\nChema, and it should be remembered that the Chema also receives the\nwater of the Marium-chu, so that its 353 cubic feet represent the united\nvolumes of two tributaries.\n\nWhen we encamped in the evening with the main caravan in the Umbo\ndistrict (15,427 feet), where the Chema-yundung and the Marium-chu\nunite, the rivers were very considerably swollen, and the water, which\nhad been clear in the morning, had become turbid. Therefore only the two\nmeasurements taken at the same time were directly comparable, and I will\npass over all the subsequent measurements. To arrive at the source we\nhad only to know that the Kubi-tsangpo is far larger than the two\nothers, so we had to follow its course up into the mountains, which none\nof my predecessors had done. The Tibetans also said that the Kubi was\nthe upper course of the Martsang-tsangpo.\n\nOn July 9 we parted from Guffaru and the main caravan, which was to keep\nto the great high-road and cross the Marium-la to Tokchen, while Robert\nand I with three Ladakis and three armed Tibetans followed the\nKubi-tsangpo up to its source. Our way ran west-south-west. Where we\ncrossed the Chema-yundung, a good distance above the last delta arms of\nthe Marium-chu, the river carried little more than 140 cubic feet of\nwater, and therefore the Kubi-tsangpo, flowing to the south-east of it,\nis here fully eight times as large. At the ford our Tibetans drove a peg\nwith a white rag into the edge of the bank, and when I asked why, they\nanswered: \"That the river may not become tired of carrying its water\ndown the valleys.\"\n\nAt Tok-jonsung, where we bivouacked among some black tents, the Chema\nlooked very large, but its water ran very slowly. The nomads of the\ndistrict go up to the Chang-tang in winter. Here also we heard, as on\nmany former occasions, that smallpox was raging frightfully in Purang,\nand that all the roads leading thither were closed. No country lies so\nhigh that the angel of death cannot reach it.\n\nIn the night the thermometer fell to 15.4\u00b0, but we were at a height of\n15,991 feet. The snowy mountains in front of us to the south-west became\nmore distinct. The Chema river meandered with a slow fall, and we left\nit on the right before we came to our camp in Sheryak.\n\n[Illustration: 240. LAMA IN MY BOAT.]\n\n[Illustration: 241. LOADING THE BOAT WITH BOXES ON CROSSING THE\nBRAHMAPUTRA.]\n\nWe ride on July 11 on to the south-west in a strong wind, passing\nalready porous, melting snowdrifts. Solid rock is not to be seen, but\nall the detritus consists of granite and green schist. We follow a\nclearly marked nomad path, leading up to the small pass Tso-niti-kargang\non the ridge which forms a watershed between the Chema-yundung and the\nKubi-tsangpo. The large valley of the latter is below us to the south.\nThe water of the Kubi-tsangpo is very muddy, but on the right bank is a\nperfectly clear moraine lake. From the south-east the affluent Lung-yung\nflows out of its deeply cut valley. The view is grand on all sides. From\nnorth-west to north-east extends a confused sea of mountains, the crests\nand ramifications of the Trans-Himalaya, intersected by the northern\ntributaries of the upper Tsangpo. To the south we have a panorama\nmagnificent and overpowering in its fascinating wildness and whiteness,\nan irregular chain of huge peaks, sharp, black, and fissured, sometimes\npointed like pyramids, sometimes broad and rounded, and behind them we\nsee firn-fields from which the snow slides down to form glaciers among\nthe dark rocks. Prominent in the south is the elevation Ngomo-dingding,\nand from its glaciers the Kubi-tsangpo derives a considerable part of\nits water. To the west-south-west lies the Dongdong, another mass with\nglaciers equally extensive, and to the right of it are heights called\nChema-yundung-pu, from which the river of the same name takes its rise,\nand flows down circuitously to the confluence at Shamsang. To the\nsouth-east the position of the Nangsa-la is pointed out to me beyond\nthe nearest mountains, where the river Gyang-chu, which we came across a\nfew days before, has its source.\n\nWe go down among moraines, granite detritus, and boulders. Here three\nsmall clear moraine pools, called Tso-niti, lie at different heights.\nThe ground becomes more level, and we pass a _mani_, a rivulet trickling\namong the rubbish, and a small pond, before we reach camp 200 in Lhayak,\non the bank of the Kubi-tsangpo, where the pasturage is excellent and we\nfind numerous traces of nomad camps. In several places we come across\nlarge sheets of fine thin birch bark, which have been detached by storms\nand carried by the wind over the mountains from the south.\n\nOur three musketeers told us that all the nomads now sojourning in the\nShamsang district would come up here in a few weeks to stay a month and\na half, till the snow drove them away again. In winter the snow lies 5\nfeet deep, and many men and animals perish in the snowdrifts, when the\nherds go too high up the mountains and are surprised by early heavy\nfalls of snow. The autumn before, I was told, 23 yaks were grazing up at\nthe foot of Ngomo-dingding when it began to snow furiously. Several\nherdsmen hurried up to drive the animals down to lower ground, but the\nsnow was heaped up in such large quantities that they had to turn back\nlest they should perish themselves. In the spring they went up, and\nfound the skeletons and hides of the unfortunate animals. The Shamsang\nGova had lately lost some horses in the same way. Even the wild asses\ncannot escape from the spring snow. They cannot run when the snow is\ndeep, and after trying in vain to reach bare ground, they die of\nstarvation and are frozen in the snowdrifts. Our three guides, who\nthemselves pass the summer up here, assured me that the wild asses are\nfrozen in an upright position, and often stand on all fours when the\nsummer sun has thawed the snow. They had seen dead wild asses standing\nin herds as though they were alive.\n\nThe snow, which falls in winter on the source region of the\nBrahmaputra, melts in spring, and together with the river ice produces a\nflood of far larger volume, it is said, than the summer flood produced\nby rain. This is probably true of the uppermost course of the Tsangpo,\nbut lower down the rain-flood is certainly the greater. In general, the\nvariations in the water-level are more marked in the higher lands, and\nthe further the water flows downstream the more the fluctuations tend to\ndisappear.\n\n\"Is not our country hard and terrible to live in? Is not the Bombo\nChimbo's country (India) better?\" asked my Tibetans.\n\n\"I cannot say that; in India there are tigers, snakes, poisonous\ninsects, heat, fever, and plague to contend with, which are not met with\nup here in the fresh air.\"\n\n\"Yes, but that is better than the continual wind, the sharp cold, and\nthe fruitless waiting for rain. This year we have only had a couple of\nlight showers, and we shall lose our herds if more rain does not come.\"\n\n\"Well, the summer in Tibet is very pleasant when it rains, while in\nIndia it is suffocating; on the other hand, the winter in Tibet is\nsevere and cruel, but comfortable in India.\"\n\n\"Tell us, Bombo Chimbo, is it you, with your glass and measuring\ninstruments, that is keeping back the rain this year? At this season it\nusually rains heavily, but you perhaps prefer clear weather, to be able\nto see the country and that the roads may not be soft.\"\n\n\"No, I long for rain as much as you, for my animals are getting thin,\nand cannot eat their fill of this poor grass, which has stood here since\nlast summer. Only the gods can control the weather, and the sons of men\nmust take the rain and sunshine as they are sent to them from above.\"\n\nThey looked at one another doubtfully. It was not the first time that\nthey had ascribed to me powers as great as those of their own gods, and\nit would have been difficult to have convinced them of their error.\n\nAt midnight the men heard a one-year-old child crying and calling for\nhelp on the bank of the Kubi-tsangpo. They woke one another in\nastonishment, and Rabsang and two Tibetans went off with a gun, thinking\nthat it was a ghost. When they came near they heard the child weeping\nquite distinctly, and our heroes were so frightened that they thought it\nsafest to make all haste back again. When I asked them how they knew\nthat it was a year-old child, they answered, that from the sound it\ncould not have been younger or older. When I suggested that it might\nhave been a wolf cub, as there were no human beings in the\nneighbourhood, they declared that it must have been an uneasy spirit\nwandering about the bank.\n\nThere must have been something supernatural about, for I dreamed in the\nnight that all the fragments of birch bark which we had seen on our\nday's ride were letters of invitation from the Maharaja of Nepal, that I\nhad accepted the invitation, and was lying half asleep on a soft carpet\nof grass and listening to the rustle of the warm wind among the cedars\nof the Himalayas. The dream was so vivid that I could not think all day\nlong of anything else but the warm beautiful land behind the mountains.\n\nEven in camp No. 200 I perceived fairly clearly how the land lay, but we\nwere not yet at the actual source, and therefore we continued our march\nsouth-westwards on July 12. The foot of the snowy mountains seemed quite\nnear. The river is broad, and divided by islands of mud into several\narms. On the left side of the valley, where we march, are a couple of\nwalls of green and black schist, but elsewhere old moraines extend on\nall sides. We cross a stream flowing from the country below Dongdong to\njoin the Kubi-tsangpo. The Tsechung-tso is a small moraine lake. The\nvalley bottom rises slowly, and consists of loose material sparsely\ncovered with grass. Occasionally a small erratic block of grey granite\nis seen. Rags, dung, and fragments of bone lie on the summer\ncamping-grounds. At length the river becomes as broad as a small lake,\nenclosed in morainic rubbish and driftsand.\n\nWe camped at the stone wall of Shapka, one of the headquarters of the\nnomads. Here, on the right bank of the Kubi-tsangpo, stands a dark\npurple ridge of medium height with patches of snow, which melt in the\ncourse of the summer. The land at the foot of this colossal mountain is\nremarkably flat, and instead of a cone of detritus there is a stream\nexpanded into a lake. The water from the melting snow has washed away\nall solid matter.\n\nAs we came to camp No. 201, at a height of 15,883 feet, the peaks\ndisappeared in clouds, but just before sunset the sky cleared and the\nlast clouds floated away like light white steam over the glaciers of\nNgomo-dingding, which clearly displayed their grand structure, with high\nlateral moraines and concentric rings of grey lumpy terminal moraines.\nThe surface, except where here and there blue crevasses yawned in the\nice, was white with snow and the porous melting crust.\n\nWhen the sun had set, nine peaks in a line from south-east to south-west\nstood out with remarkable sharpness. Raven-black pinnacles, cliffs and\nridges rise out of the white snowfields, and the glaciers emerge from\ncolossal portals. A whole village of tents rising to heaven! The source\nof the Brahmaputra could not be embellished with a grander and more\nmagnificent background. Holy and thrice holy are these mountains, which\nfrom their cold lap give birth and sustenance to the river celebrated\nfrom time immemorial in legend and song, the river of Tibet and Assam,\nthe river _par excellence_, the son of Brahma. One generation after\nanother of black Tibetans has in the course of thousands of years\nlistened to its roar between the two loftiest mountain systems of the\nworld, the Himalaya and the Trans-Himalaya, and one generation after\nanother of the various tribes of Assam has watered its fields with its\nlife-giving floods and drunk of its blessed water. But where the source\nlay no one knew. Three expeditions had determined its position\napproximately, but none had been there. No geography had been able to\ntell us anything of the country round the source of the Brahmaputra.\nOnly a small number of nomads repair thither yearly to spend a couple of\nshort summer months. Here it is, here in the front of three glacier\ntongues, that the river so revered by the Hindu tribes begins its course\nof some 1800 miles through the grandest elevations of the world, from\nwhich its turbid volumes of water roll first to the east, then\nsouthwards, cutting a wild valley through the Himalayas, and finally\nflowing south-westwards over the plains of Assam. The upper Brahmaputra,\nthe Tsangpo, is truly the chief artery of Tibet, for within its drainage\nbasin is concentrated the great mass of its population, while its lower\ncourse is surrounded by the most fruitful and populous provinces of\nAssam. The Brahmaputra is therefore one of the noblest rivers of the\nworld, and few waterways have a more illustrious descent and a more\nvaried and more glorious career, for nations have grown up on its banks\nand have lived there, and their history and culture have been intimately\nconnected with it since the earliest times of human records.\n\nBusied with such thoughts, I went out again in the evening to gaze at\nthe cliffs of the nine peaks which showed like dim misty shadows, while\nthe ice and snowfields below, of the same colour as the sky, were not\nperceptible in the night. Then a flash of lightning blazed up behind\nKubi-gangri, as the whole massive is called, and the crest crowned with\neternal snow stood suddenly out in sharp pitch-black contours. Singular,\nentrancing land, where spirit voices are heard in the night and the sky\nblazes up in bluish light. I listened for a long time to the brook\nShapka-chu, gently trickling down its stony bed to the bank of the\nKubi-tsangpo.\n\nWe had still some way to go before we came to the actual source, and I\ncould not conscientiously leave Kubi-gangri without determining the\nabsolute height of the source by the boiling-point thermometer. Our\nTibetans were exceedingly friendly, and seemed to take an interest in\nshowing us this point, of which I had spoken so often during the past\ndays and about which I had put so many questions. I was really thankful\nfor, and overjoyed at, this unexpected favourable opportunity of fixing\nthe position of the source, though I knew that my excursion to\nKubi-gangri could only be a very cursory and defective reconnaissance. A\nthorough exploration of this neighbourhood would require several years,\nfor the summer up here is short and the time for work is over in two\nmonths. But though I succeeded in learning only the chief outlines of\nthe physical geography, I can count this excursion as one of the most\nimportant events of my last journey in Tibet. Accordingly, we decided to\nride up to the source next day, July 13. Only Rabsang, Robert, and a\nTibetan were to accompany me. The rest were to wait for our return under\nthe command of Tsering.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII\n\nTHE SOURCE OF THE SACRED RIVER--A DEPARTURE\n\n\nWe started off in beautiful weather, not a cloud hanging over the\nsummits of Kubi-gangri. We followed the left bank of the Kubi-tsangpo,\nand rode along the foot of the huge moraines, which here rise fully 470\nfeet above the valley bottom, and which were formerly thrown up on the\nleft or western side of the gigantic glacier, whence proceeded all the\nglacier tongues now remaining only in short lengths. The morainic\ncharacter is plainly recognizable, sometimes in curved ridges and walls\nfalling steeply on both sides, sometimes in rounded hillocks rising one\nabove another. The surface is often covered with fine pebbles, grass,\nand lovely alpine flowers trying to make the most of the short summer.\nHere and there a landslip has taken place, and then it can be seen that\nthe rock shows no trace of stratification. Occasionally we pass granite\nboulders, but they are small, the largest not more than 280 cubic feet.\nOn the valley bottom are swamps with rank grass, and wild-geese are\nenjoying the summer in the ponds. We twice met with fresh spoor of small\nherds of wild yaks which had moved off to the right bank of the\nKubi-tsangpo. The horses' hoofs splashed in the swampy ground, seldom\nvaried by small patches of boulder clay.\n\nNumerous rivulets descend from the moraines. They are fed by the melting\nsnowfields, and therefore, in contrast to the glacier brooks, are\ncrystal clear. They have eroded deep valleys in the moraines, and one of\nthem has deposited a great dejection cone at the mouth, over which the\nbrook falls in ten channels, carrying 106 cubic feet of water. A very\nconsiderable proportion of the upper Brahmaputra's water is derived from\nmelted snow. Rivulets rushed and spurted all about in the rubbish, and\nall came from the snowfields, which struggled in vain against the heat\nof the spring sun.\n\nNow we have right in front of us the immense glacier which descends from\nan extensive firn basin on the western foot of the Mukchung-simo\nmassive. Between its terminal moraines and the older moraines we have\nskirted, a rather voluminous stream has eroded its valley. Its water is\ntolerably clear and green, so that it proceeds from snowfields. A little\nbelow the terminal moraine it unites with the numerous arms of the muddy\nglacier stream, of which the largest is the one which flows nearest to\nthe foot of the Mukchung massive. Even 200 yards below the confluence\nthe green water can be clearly distinguished from the brown, but\nafterwards the cold currents intermingle. Where the river, still divided\ninto a number of meandering arms, turns past camp 201 to the north-east,\nit receives considerable additions from the glaciers lying further east,\nand thus the Kubi-tsangpo is formed.\n\nThen we ride up, zigzagging among boulders and pebble beds, over ridges,\nbanks, and erosion furrows, over brooks and treacherous bog, over grass\nand clumps of brushwood, to a commanding point of view on the top of the\nold moraine (16,453 feet). Before us is a chaos of huge, precipitous,\nfissured, black, bare rocks, summits, pyramids, columns, domes, and\nridges, moraines, tongues of ice, snow and firn fields--a scene hard to\nbeat for wild grandeur.\n\nHere we made a halt, and I drew the panorama while the horses grazed on\nthe slopes. The largest glacier, which comes from the Kubi-gangri\nproper, is entirely below us, and we have a bird's-eye view of it. It is\nfed by three different firn-fields, and has two distinct medial\nmoraines, which here and there rise into ridges where the ice has been\nthrust aside. The right lateral moraine is well defined, and is still\npartially covered with snow. The left is broad in its upper part but\nnarrow below, where the green stream washes its base. Up above, a\nglacier from the west runs into the main glacier, and where the two\njoin the side glacier is thrown up into a mighty wall, which merges into\nthe left lateral moraine of the other. All the bottom of the glacier\nfront is buried in rubbish, and the ice peeps out only here and there.\nHere are several small sheets of water, some of an intensely blue\ncolour, others brown, with finely pulverized matter, showing that they\nare connected with the water of the ground moraine. Two of these small\npools have vertical sides of blue ice like entrances to marvellous fairy\ngrottos. A series of marginal crevasses are still partly covered with\nsnow. The terminal moraine is a chaos of mounds, pebbles, and boulders,\nwith patches of snow on the shady side. In a hollow between these\nhillocks flows the middle glacier stream, after passing two pools. The\nterminal moraine does not increase in size, for its material is slowly\ndisintegrated and washed away by the stream, which winds in several arms\nover the even bed of the valley bottom just below in the most capricious\ncurves.\n\nAn excursion over the surface of the glacier would not be difficult when\none was once up on it. There are many dangerous crevasses concealed\nunder the snow which may be avoided by keeping to the rubbish heaps of\nthe medial moraines. The mass of the Kubi-gangri, which from our point\nof view lies farthest to the right, to the west-north-west, is called\nGave-ting; from it descends the great side glacier.\n\nThe front of the main glacier, where the largest of all the glacier\nstreams of the Kubi-gangri rises, is the actual source of the\nBrahmaputra. The other streams which enter it south-east of camp 201 are\nsmaller and shorter. We could not get to them, for the horses sank too\ndeep in the sand and mud of the main stream.\n\nOn our return we made a halt at the place where the principal branch of\nthe Kubi-tsangpo comes out from under the ice, and I found that the\nsource of the Brahmaputra lies at an altitude of 15,958 feet above\nsea-level. I must leave details for the scientific report of this\njourney, which will be published in due time.\n\nOn July 14 it seemed very hot in my tent, for even at seven o'clock in\nthe morning the temperature was 45.1\u00b0; in the night there had been\nnearly 14\u00bd degrees of frost. The sky was perfectly clear, and therefore\nI could not refrain from seeking another point of view to investigate\nthe beautiful glaciers of the Kubi-gangri.\n\nAfter arranging with Tsering that he should meet us in the valley of the\nDongdong river, we rode up the banks and ridges of the old moraine,\nthrough its hollows and over its terraces of barren soil, which was now\nsoft and treacherous from the melting of the snow, past pools of clear,\ngreen water, and to the highest point of its ridge, where there was\nnothing to hide the view.\n\nI first took nine photographs, forming a consecutive series. Then a\ncloak was thrown over the stand to make a shelter against the strong\nwind, and in this sentry-box I sat for nearly four hours drawing a\npanorama which embraced the whole horizon. Meanwhile my companions lay\ndown and snored, and I was glad to sit alone face to face with these\nroyal mountain giants. The whole architecture is fantastically wild, and\nthe only law which is strictly observed is that each glacier is confined\nbetween two huge black crests of rock.\n\n[Illustration: 242. PANORAMA OF KUBI-GANGRI AND THE LANGTA-CHEN GLACIER,\nWITH THE SOURCE OF THE BRAHMAPUTRA (FROM A HEIGHT OF 16,453 FEET, JULY\n13, 1907).\n\n Sketch by the Author.]\n\nIn order to give the reader a notion of the scene I here reproduce a\npart of the panorama embracing the Kubi-gangri (Illust. 242). To the\nsouth, 27\u00b0 E., is a tetrahedral peak, which our guide called\nNgoma-dingding. To the south, 11\u00b0 E., rises another summit, of almost\nprecisely the same form, which is called Absi. On the east of it lies\nthe Ngoma-dingding glacier, and on the west the Absi glacier. West of\nthis stands the lumpy Mukchung-simo group, with its culminating point\nlying south, 24\u00b0 W. The northern side resembles a stable with straight\nshort stalls, each containing a small hanging glacier. To the south-west\nrise two sharp pinnacles, and in the south, 57\u00b0 W., a couple of\ndome-shaped summits consisting only of ice and snow; they belong to the\nLangta-chen massive, and their firns feed to a great extent the glacier\nin the front of which the Brahmaputra takes its rise. So the glacier may\nbe called the Langta-chen. To the south, 70\u00b0 W., 88\u00b0 W., and north, 83\u00b0\nW., rise the summits of the Gave-ting group. To the north, 55\u00b0 W.,\nthree peaks of the Dongdong appear, from which one of the sources of the\nBrahmaputra takes its rise, quite insignificant compared to the\nKubi-tsangpo.\n\nTowards the north-east the sharply defined valley of the Kubi-tsangpo\nruns downwards, and in the distance are seen the mountains of\nChang-tang, pyramidal peaks of singular uniformity, and crowded together\nin great numbers, which form a finely jagged horizon, and in consequence\nof the great distance merge into the pink tint of the insignificant\nsnowfields. The Trans-Himalaya seems on this side to widen out and\nbecome flatter than in the east.\n\nIt was late when we rode down the steep path to the camp on the\nDongdong. And now we had to hurry westwards and make as many discoveries\nand collect as much information as possible on forbidden paths, in spite\nof the Mandarins and the Devashung.\n\nOn July 15 we left our former route to the right and directed our steps\nnorthwards over intricate moraines, seeing the snowy peaks of Dongdong\nand Chema-yundung still more clearly from the pass Kargan-la. On the\n16th the sky was overcast, a couple of hail showers fell, and the hills\naround us changed to white. We rode north-westwards past two small\nlakes, and again fell in with solid rock--green and black schist. From\nthe Tugri-la we had a fine view over a world of mountains, the names of\nwhich I have no time to record. We crossed another saddle, Sen-kamba-la,\nto reach the broad open valley of the Chema-yundung river, which\ndescends from a very extensive glacier in the south belonging to the\nChema-yundung-pu massive. Here were several nomad tents, and seven tents\ninhabited by pilgrims from Bongba stood on a rise. They were on their\nway with kith and kin to Kang-rinpoche to make the pilgrimage round the\nholy mountain. Most of the pilgrims from the far east take this southern\nroute and return over the Marium-la.\n\nJuly 17. It was very hot in the saddle with a temperature of 50\u00b0 and\nquite calm air. The brown puppy was very tired of travelling, and drops\nfell from her hanging tongue, but she could not leave the antelopes and\nhares in peace. She darted after them full speed, but never caught them,\nand came back to me disappointed, but began again the useless pursuit.\nThe Ronggak-chu is an affluent of the Chema, and comes from the\nnorth-west. We left the little double lake Kuru-chok in the south. To\nthe west-south-west is the place where the Chema-yundung receives the\nAngsi-chu, the most westerly of all the headwaters of the Brahmaputra.\n\nIn the valley of the Tynchung we encamped beside some accommodating\nnomads, who quickly procured me fresh yaks, for the three musketeers\nturned back here to Shamsang, after doing their work well. The whole\nexcursion to the sources of the Brahmaputra had cost 110 rupees, and it\nwas well worth more. The natives said that ten robbers had recently made\nthe neighbourhood unsafe, but immediately it was reported that a\nEuropean caravan was approaching Tynchung, they had entirely\ndisappeared, and therefore we were regarded as deliverers, and the\npeople could not do too much for us. A Hindu merchant from Almora was\ncamping here, buying sheep's wool and salt from the nomads, and selling\nthem frieze rugs and textiles from Agra and Amritsar.\n\nNext day we crossed the Marnyak-la (17,395 feet) and had the Angsi-chu\nimmediately below us, and on the 19th we left the river behind and\nfollowed its small tributary, the Loang-gonga, up to its source at the\nvery low pass Tamlung or Tag-la, which is nothing more than a rise in an\nopen longitudinal valley. But this pass is exceedingly important, for it\nis the watershed between the Brahmaputra and Manasarowar. Its height is\n17,382 feet. To the south is spread out a succession of snowy peaks, and\nto the west-south-west is seen Gurla Mandatta or Memo-nani, a majestic\nand imposing group which belongs to the same Himalayan range as\nKubi-gangri. The pass is situated among old moraines, where is the\nlittle insignificant lake Tamlung-tso, from which the Loang-gonga flows\nout. At some distance to the south is seen the low watershed between the\nAngsi-chu and the Gang-lung, a stream that comes from a massive of the\nsame name, and, as the Tage-tsangpo, falls into Manasarowar. The very\nlatest maps of western Tibet give a very incorrect representation of\nthis country, which has never been visited by a European before. Instead\nof a clearly marked meridional range we found an open, hilly,\nlongitudinal valley with the watershed running among its moraines. Here\nwe took leave of the Brahmaputra, after passing half a year in its basin\nsince crossing the Sela-la. We encamped at a place where the Gang-lung\nriver breaks through a rampart of moraines, forming foaming cascades.\n\nDuring the following day's journey it flows through granitic moraines,\ndrift sand, and morasses, and becomes a considerable stream, receiving\nnumerous affluents from the south. A caravan of 50 yaks, and eight men\nfrom Purang, armed with guns, and clad in blue with fur-lined cloaks,\nwere on the way to the fair in Gyanima. In the district Tagramoche,\nwhere we bivouacked, were many nomads and beggars with staves and\nbundles on the way to the holy mountain. We also met six merchants from\nLadak, who were carrying dried peaches for sale on 45 asses. They had\nleft home a month and a half previously.\n\nOn July 21 we rode down the Tage-bup valley among savage cliffs. On its\nbottom flows the Tage-tsangpo, changing its colour from light green over\nsandy ground to bluish-purple over dark detritus. Langchen-kamba is a\nsmall side-valley on the right, from which robbers are wont to sally\nforth against defenceless travellers. Just below the valley a spring\nbubbles forth with crystal-clear water at a temperature of 38\u00b0. It is\nconsidered holy, and is marked by a pole bedecked with rags and\nstreamers like a scare-crow. This spring is also called Langchen-kamba.\n\nA little farther down the spring Chakko stands on a steep slope on the\nright bank, and its water (40.3\u00b0) is collected in a round pit 3 feet\ndeep. A wall is erected about it, covered with flat stones, on which\nfigures of Buddha and holy texts are carved. Leaves from the holy\nscriptures are thrust between the stones of the wall, and streamers and\nrags fly from a pole. Through the water, clear as a mirror, could be\nseen blue and red beads, two inferior turquoises, some shells, and\nother trash, thrown in as offerings by pious pilgrims. The water is\nsupposed to have miraculous powers. Murmuring prayers, our guide filled\na wooden bowl with water and poured it over the head and mane of his\nhorse to protect it from wolves. With the same object he tied a rag from\nthe pole on to his horse's forelock. He drank himself a good draught to\nrender him invulnerable to the bullets of robbers. If a sheep or other\nanimal is ill it is only necessary to sprinkle it with the holy water to\nmake it well again. When a traveller or pilgrim stands at the well and\npours water with both hands over his head, it guards him against falling\ninto the hands of footpads, and from other misfortunes. And if he sits\nand meditates, drinks, and washes his head, hands, and legs, and has\nsufficient faith, then he finds gold coins and precious stones at the\nbottom of the well. The sick man who bathes his whole body in the\nmiraculous water becomes strong again. It is a Lourdes in miniature.\nWhile my men were engaged in their ablutions I sat at the edge of the\nwell and listened to the mystical music of the fluttering\nprayer-streamers, and found this fascinating Tibet more enigmatical at\nevery step.\n\nThen we rode over the Tage-tsangpo, where its valley opens into the flat\nbasin of Manasarowar--a new chapter in the chronicles of our journey.\nAgain Gurla Mandatta showed itself in all its glory, and in the\nnorth-west Kang-rinpoche or Kailas, the holy mountain, like a great\n_chhorten_ on a lama's grave, rose above the jagged ridge which forms\nthe horizon in that direction. On seeing it all our men suddenly jumped\nout of their saddles and threw themselves down with their foreheads on\nthe ground. Only Rabsang, a confirmed heathen, remained seated on his\nhorse, and was afterwards well scolded by Tsering.\n\n[Illustration: 243, 244, 245. THE MOUNTAINS AT THE SOURCE OF THE\nBRAHMAPUTRA.]\n\nWe are now out on open hilly ground, and see a glimpse of the holy lake\nTso-mavang or Manasarowar. We encamp by a small lake called Tso-nyak,\nwhither come Islam Ahun and Shukkur Ali, sent by Guffaru, who is become\nuneasy at our long absence. We send them back again to Tokchen with\norders to Guffaru to proceed to the monastery Serolung-gompa on the\nholy lake, where we will meet him.\n\nOn July 22 we rode over the Tage-tsangpo, which here carried 291 cubic\nfeet of water, where Rabsang got a thorough wetting in consequence of\nhis horse coming a cropper among the boulders in the bed. Tsering said\nthat he deserved a dip because he had not saluted Kang-rinpoche. Camp\n210 was set up in the broad valley Namarding, where a clear brook flows\nto the Tage-tsangpo. The wind blew strongly, and the Tibetans said that\nthe waves on Tso-mavang were as high and dark as nomad tents. Should we\nventure in our little canvas boat on the lake, exposed to all the winds?\nIt must be very rough before I consented to give up the trip, for the\nlake had long been the subject of my dreams.\n\nNext morning Tundup Sonam appeared with the news that the Gova of\nTokchen would not let his yaks on hire for the journey to Serolung. I\nhad therefore to ride to Tokchen by a road over the pass Karbu-la, and\ndown the river Samo-tsangpo; it is full of fish, but we were asked not\nto disturb them, for they came up from the holy lake. We were all\ntogether again in Tokchen, and I found the Gova a decent fellow, who\nwelcomed me with a large _kadakh_ and a bowl of _tsamba_.\n\nNow an hour of parting was come, for I sent from Tokchen thirteen of my\nmen home to Ladak. I had several reasons for this. I did not need so\nmany men in western Tibet; twelve were enough, and a small, light\ncaravan accomplishes more and does not excite so much notice. The men\nwere to travel along the great highway to Gartok under the experienced\nleadership of Guffaru, and there deposit all the baggage I could spare\nwith the British agent, Thakur Jai Chand. I also sent to him a letter\npacket of three hundred pages to my parents, beside other\ncorrespondence. Of particular importance was a letter to Colonel Dunlop\nSmith, in which I asked for 6000 rupees, provisions, books, revolvers\nand ammunition, and things suitable for presents, such as gold and\nsilver watches, as well as all the letters which must have accumulated\nat the Viceregal Lodge.\n\nOn the first evening, when I called together all the twenty-five men and\ntold them my decision to send away thirteen, and asked which of them\nwished to go home, no one answered. They declared that they would follow\nme until I was tired of Tibet. Then I picked out thirteen and retained\nthe best twelve men. Among these was Tashi, who with Tundup Sonam had\naccomplished the adventurous journey to Shigatse. But when he saw that I\nwas in earnest about the dividing of the caravan, he begged me to let\nhim go home, so he was exchanged for another man.\n\nWe stayed here two days to put everything in order. After the baggage\nwas re-arranged I had only four boxes left, and the rest were to be\ncarried away by Guffaru. Robert sat in my tent like a money-changer and\npiled up sovereigns and rupees in small heaps, the pay, gratuities, and\ntravelling expenses of the men who were going home. Our treasury was\nrelieved of 2118 rupees all at once. The important correspondence was\nenclosed in a case, which Guffaru carried in his belt. The men with him\nwere allowed to keep two of our five guns. Late in the evening Guffaru\ncame to my tent to receive his last instructions. Honest old Guffaru, he\nhad in the autumn of his life performed wonders in the winter in\nChang-tang, always composed and contented, always doing his duty in the\nsmallest particular. Now he sat, with the tears falling on to his white\nbeard, and thanked me for all I had done for him during the past year. I\nbade him weep no more, but rejoice that the hard time was over for him,\nand that he could return safe and sound to his people with 400 rupees in\nhis purse. When we left Leh he was as poor as a church mouse, and now he\nwas a rich man for his position, and he had not needed his shroud. I\ntold him that I should miss him very much, but that I could not entrust\nthe valuable baggage and important letters to any other hands but his.\n\nWhen I came out of my tent early on the morning of the 26th the 13 yaks\nwere laden and the thirteen men were ready to march off with their\nTibetan guides. I thanked them for their faithfulness and patience\nduring the time when they were exposed to so many dangers in my\nservice, begged them to remember that they were responsible for the\ncaravan on the way home, and told them that they must obey Guffaru, and\nthat their character would suffer if they did not bear with one another\non the way. If they were as conscientious on this journey as in my\nservice, it would be well for them in the future, and perhaps our paths\nmight cross again.\n\nThen old Guffaru came forward, and fell on his knees before me, weeping\nloudly, and all the others in turn followed his example amid sobs and\ntears; I clapped them all on the shoulder and hoped that this bitter\nhour would soon be over. Then they took leave of their comrades, who,\ndeeply moved, sent greetings to their parents, wives, and children in\nLadak, and they marched off on foot, as they had travelled so many\nhundred miles, silent, drooping, and downcast, and soon disappeared\nbehind the hills.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIV\n\nA NIGHT ON MANASAROWAR\n\n\nAfter Guffaru had set out with his men, the small caravan was organized\nwhich was to accompany me. It was led by Tsering, and the other men left\nwere Bulu, Tundup Sonam, Rabsang, Rehim Ali, Shukkur Ali, Namgyal, Adul,\nIshe, Lama, Galsang, and Rub Das. The Gova of Tokchen was given a\nKashmir shawl, a turban, and some rupees for the services he had\nrendered us, and all the other Tibetans who had been friendly and\nhelpful received presents. The dividing of the caravan had also the\nadvantage that the Tibetans supposed that we were all making for the\nsame destination by different routes, and that I should join Guffaru in\nGartok and continue my journey to Ladak, as directed on the passport.\n\n[Illustration: 246. TIBETANS ON THE BANK OF THE SOMA-TSANGPO.]\n\n[Illustration: 247. GROUP OF NATIVES OF LANGMAR.]\n\nWith Robert, Rabsang, and two Tibetans I now ride down the Tokchen\nvalley and up over the hills to the south-west. To the right of our\nroute the turquoise-blue surface of the holy lake is displayed; how\nbeautiful, how fascinating is the scene! One seems to breathe more\nfreely and easily, one feels a pleasure in life, one longs to voyage\nover the blue depths and the sacred waves. For Manasarowar is the\nholiest and most famous of all the lakes of the world, the goal of the\npilgrimage of innumerable pious Hindus, a lake celebrated in the most\nancient religious hymns and songs, and in its clear waters the ashes of\nHindus find a grave as desirable and honoured as in the turbid waters of\nthe Ganges. During my stay in India I received letters from Hindus in\nwhich they asked me to explore the revered lake and the holy mountain\nKailas, which lifts its summit in the north under a cupola of eternal\nsnow, where Siva, one of the Indian Trinity, dwells in her paradise\namong a host of other deities; and they told me that if I could give\nthem an exact description of the lake and river, they would remember me\nin their prayers and their gods would bless me. But that was not why I\nlonged to be there. The lake had never been sounded--I would sink my\nlead to the bottom and make a map of its bed; I would follow its\nperiphery and calculate how much water pours into its bosom on a summer\nday; I would investigate its hydrographic relation to the adjacent lake\non the west, the Rakas-tal, a problem which various travellers in this\nregion, from Moorcroft and Strachey to Ryder and Rawling, have explained\ndifferently; I would learn something of the monasteries and the life of\nHindu and Tibetan pilgrims, for the lake is sacred in the eyes of\nLamaists also, who call it Tso-mavang or Tso-rinpoche, the \"Holy Lake.\"\nHow can Manasarowar and Kailas be the objects of divine honours from two\nreligions so different as Hinduism and Lamaism unless it is that their\noverpowering beauty has appealed to and deeply impressed the human mind,\nand that they seemed to belong rather to heaven than to earth? Even the\nfirst view from the hills on the shore caused us to burst into tears of\njoy at the wonderful, magnificent landscape and its surpassing beauty.\nThe oval lake, somewhat narrower in the south than the north, and with a\ndiameter of about 15\u00bd miles, lies like an enormous turquoise embedded\nbetween two of the finest and most famous mountain giants of the world,\nthe Kailas in the north and Gurla Mandatta in the south, and between\nhuge ranges, above which the two mountains uplift their crowns of bright\nwhite eternal snow. Yes, already I felt the strong fascination which\nheld me fettered to the banks of Manasarowar, and I knew that I would\nnot willingly leave the lake before I had listened, until I was weary,\nto the song of its waves.\n\nWe sat an hour and enjoyed the incomparable beauty of the scene. A\nslight ripple ruffled the surface of the water, but in the middle the\nlake was as smooth as if oil had been poured on it. The Tibetans said\nthat it was always smooth in the middle except when a storm raged. To\nthe south-south-west and south-west are seen the two summits of Gurla\nMandatta, the western very flat, and reminding me of the Mustag-ata in\nthe eastern Pamir. The Tibetans called the mountain sometimes Namo,\nsometimes Memo-nani. South, 60\u00b0 W., a row of snowy heights rise behind\nthe Purang valley. To the west-north-west is seen the small pyramidal\nhill where Chiu-gompa stands on the bank of the water channel which once\nran into Rakas-tal. To the north-west a couple of lagoons lie on the\nshore of Manasarowar, and behind them rise chains and ramifications\nbelonging to the Trans-Himalaya, and among them Kailas or Kang-rinpoche,\nthe \"Holy Mountain,\" called also Gangri or the \"Ice Mountain,\" dominates\nthe horizon unless its summit is veiled in clouds. And lastly, to the\nnorth, 20\u00b0 W., we see the double-peaked Pundi, not far from the shore,\nand in the north the two valleys Pachen and Pachung, with roads which\nlead over the watershed of the Trans-Himalaya to Chang-tang.\n\nWhen I asked our guides what they thought of a boat trip across the\nlake, they answered unhesitatingly that it was impossible; mortals who\nventured on the lake, which was the home of the gods, must perish. Also\nin the middle Tso-mavang was not level as on the shore, but formed a\ntransparent dome, and up its round arch no boat could mount; and even if\nwe succeeded in getting the boat up, it would shoot down the other side\nwith such velocity that it must capsize, and we should perish in the\nwaves because we had excited the wrath of the god of the lake.\n\nWe mounted again and rode south-south-west over the hills to Serolung,\nthe golden valley, where the monastery Serolung-gompa is hidden in the\nhollow. There I stayed four hours, making sketches and notes. Serolung,\nwhich contains thirty monks, most of whom were away wandering among the\nvillages, is one of the eight convents which are set like precious\nstones in the chain which the pilgrims stretch round the lake, in the\nhope of acquiring merit in a future form of existence, of being freed\nfrom the burden of sin and the tortures of purgatorial fires, nay,\nperhaps, of sitting at the feet of the gods and eating _tsamba_ out of\ngolden bowls.\n\nOur camp No. 212 was pitched immediately south of the mouth of the\nSerolung valley at the water's edge. The strip of ground on the bank is\nquite narrow, and on the hills rising to the east of it are visible six\nhorizontal strand lines, the highest lying 162 feet above the present\nlevel of the lake, which is 15,098 feet above the sea.\n\nOn July 27 I had a good sleep, and spent the rest of the day in making\npreparations for the first line of soundings, which was to cross the\nlake in a direction south, 59\u00b0 W., where a gap appeared in the hills\nframing the lake. We waited for good weather, but the wind blew\nviolently and the surf beat and foamed against the shore. I therefore\nresolved to wait till night, for of late the nights had been calmer than\nthe days. On a trial trip we had found a depth of 130 feet not far from\nthe shore, so we made ready a sounding line 490 feet long. Perhaps even\nthis would not be long enough, for a lake lying among such high\nmountains is sure to be deep. Shukkur Ali was to go with me, and he\naccepted his fate with his usual composure, but Rehim Ali, the other\nvictim, was frightened; it was all very well in the day, he said, but in\nthe dark gloomy night on such a great lake! We should certainly have the\nsame trouble as on Lake Lighten, he thought.\n\nWhen the sun set the wind increased in strength, and heavy clouds spread\nup from the south-west. At seven o'clock it was pitch dark all round,\nnot a star shone out, not a trace was visible of the outline of the\nshore and of the snowy mountains, and the sea was buried in the shades\nof night. But an hour later the wind fell, the air became quite calm,\nbut the waves beat in a monotonous rhythm on the bank. The smoke of the\ncamp fires rose straight up into the air.\n\nThen I gave orders to set out. The baggage was stowed and the mast\nstepped to be ready if we had a favourable wind. Provisions for two days\nwere put in the boat. I wore a leathern vest, Kashmir boots, and an\nIndian helmet, and sat on a cushion and a folded fur coat on the lee\nside of the rudder, on the other side of which the sounding-line with\nits knots lay ready on the gunwale. The log, Lyth's current meter, was\nattached to the boat to register the whole length of the course, and\ncompass, watch, note-book, and map sheets all lay close beside me,\nlighted by a Chinese paper lantern, which could be covered with a towel\nwhen we did not want the light. I used the towel after every sounding to\ndry my hands. Rehim Ali took his seat forward, Shukkur Ali in the stern\nhalf of the boat, where we were cramped for room and had to take care\nthat we did not get entangled in the sounding-line.\n\nTsering took a sceptical view of the whole adventure. He said that the\nlake was full of wonders, and at the best we should be driven back by\nmysterious powers when we had rowed a little way out. And a Tibetan\nagreed with him, saying that we should never reach the western shore\nthough we rowed with all our might, for the lake god would hold our boat\nfast, and while we thought that it was advancing it would really remain\non the same spot, and finally the angry god would draw it down to the\nbottom.\n\nRobert had orders to wait at camp No. 212 for our return, and when we\nput off from the bank at nine o'clock all bade us farewell in as warm\nand gentle a tone as though they thought that they had seen the last of\nus. Their spirits were not raised by the lightning which flashed in the\nsouth and might portend a storm. The darkness, however, was not so\nintense, for the moon was coming up, though it was still covered by the\nhills rising behind our camp. But its light threw a weird gleam over the\nlake, and in the south Gurla Mandatta rose like a ghost enveloped in a\nsheet of moonshine, snowfields, and glaciers.\n\nAt my command, the boatmen took a firm grip of the oars and the boat\nglided out from the beach, where our men stood in a silent thoughtful\ngroup. Our fires were seen for a while, but soon disappeared, for they\nwere burning almost on a level with the water. Robert told me afterwards\nthat the little boat sailing out into the darkness was a curious sight;\nowing to the lantern and the reflexion of the light on the mast the boat\nwas visible at first, but when it reached the moon-lighted part of the\nlake it appeared only as a small black spot, which soon vanished.\n\nThe great lake was dark and mysterious in the night, and unknown depths\nlurked beneath us. The contours of the hills on the shore were still\nvisible behind us, but we had not gone far before they were swallowed up\nby higher mountains farther off, which gradually came into view. After\ntwenty minutes' rowing we stopped and let down the line, sounding 135\nfeet. The roar of the surf on the beach was the only sound in the\nsilence of night, except the splash of the oars and the voices of the\noarsmen singing in time with their strokes. At the next sounding the\ndepth was 141 feet. If the bottom did not fall more rapidly our line\nwould be long enough. Every hour I recorded the temperatures of the air\nand the water. Now the god of sleep paid us a visit; Shukkur Ali yawned\nat every ninth stroke, and every yawn was so long that it lasted three\nstrokes.\n\nThe air is quite still. A long, smooth swell causes the boat to rock\nslightly. All is quiet, and I ask myself involuntarily if other beings\nare listening to the splash of the oars as well as ourselves. It is\nwarm, with a temperature of 46.9\u00b0 at eleven o'clock. The next two depths\nare 143 and 164 feet. My oarsmen follow the soundings with deep\ninterest, and look forward to the point where the depth will begin to\ndecrease. They think it awful and uncanny to glide over such great\ndepths in the dark night. Again blue lightning flashes behind Gurla\nMandatta, which stands forth in a pitch black outline, after appearing\njust before in a white robe of moon-lighted snowfields. A little later\nall the southern sky flames up like a sea of fire; the flashes quickly\nfollow one after the other, and shoot up to the zenith, seeming to stay\na moment behind the mountains, and it becomes light as day, but when the\nglow dies out the darkness is more intense, and the sublime, poetic\nsolemnity of the night is enhanced. By the light of the flashes I can\nsee the faces of the two men, who are startled and uneasy, and do not\ndare to disturb the awful stillness by their singing.\n\nWhen I let down the line at the fifth point, the two men asked\npermission to light their water-pipes. The depth was 181 feet. A slight\nsouth-westerly breeze rippled the surface. The cry of a water-bird broke\nshrilly on the silence of the night, and made us feel less lonely. A\nslight hiss of the surf breaking on the south-eastern shore was audible.\nIn the south the clouds gathered round the summit of Gurla Mandatta, the\nbreeze fell. We glided slowly over the inky black water, and between the\nwave crests the path of moonlight wound in bright sinuosities; the depth\nincreased slowly 183.4 feet, 189.3, 192 and 212.6. The temperature was\nstill 45.9\u00b0, and I did not want my fur coat.\n\nThe queen of night, with diamonds in her dark hair, looks down upon the\nholy lake. The midnight hour is passed, and the early morning hours\ncreep slowly on. We sound 203, 200, 184, 184, 180, and 190 feet, and it\nseems therefore as if we had passed the deepest depression. Leaning on\nthe gunwale I enjoy the voyage to the full, for nothing I remember in my\nlong wanderings in Asia can compare with the overpowering beauty of this\nnocturnal sail. I seem to hear the gentle but powerful beat of the great\nheart of Nature, its pulsation growing weaker in the arms of night, and\ngaining fresh vigour in the glow of the morning red. The scene,\ngradually changing as the hours go by, seems to belong not to earth but\nto the outermost boundary of unattainable space, as though it lay much\nnearer heaven, the misty fairyland of dreams and imagination, of hope\nand yearning, than to the earth with its mortals, its cares, its sins,\nand its vanity. The moon describes its arch in the sky, its restless\nreflexion quivering on the water, and broken by the wake of the boat.\n\nThe queen of night and her robe become paler. The dark sky passes into\nlight blue, and the morn draws nigh from the east. There is a faint dawn\nover the eastern mountains, and soon their outlines stand out sharply,\nas though cut out on black paper. The clouds, but now floating white\nover the lake, assume a faint rosy hue, which gradually grows stronger,\nand is reflected on the smooth water, calling forth a garden of fresh\nroses. We row among floating rose-beds, there is an odour of morning and\npure water in the air, it grows lighter, the landscape regains its\ncolour, and the new day, July 28, begins its triumphal progress over the\nearth. Only an inspired pencil and magic colours could depict the scene\nthat met my eyes when the whole country lay in shadow, and only the\nhighest peaks of Gurla Mandatta caught the first gleam of the rising\nsun. In the growing light of dawn the mountain, with its snowfields and\nglaciers, had shown silvery white and cold; but now! In a moment the\nextreme points of the summit began to glow with purple like liquid gold.\nAnd the brilliant illumination crept slowly like a mantle down the\nflanks of the mountain, and the thin white morning clouds, which hovered\nover the lower slopes and formed a girdle round a well-defined zone,\nfloating freely like Saturn's ring, and like it throwing a shadow on the\nfields of eternal snow, these too assumed a tinge of gold and purple,\nsuch as no mortal can describe. The colours, at first as light and\nfleeting as those of a young maiden in her ball-dress, became more\npronounced, light concentrated itself on the eastern mountains, and over\ntheir sharp outlines a sheaf of bright rays fell from the upper limb of\nthe sun upon the lake. And now day has won the victory, and I try\ndreamily to decide which spectacle has made the greater impression on\nme, the quiet moonlight, or the sunrise with its warm, rosy gleam on the\neternal snow.\n\nPhenomena like these are fleeting guests on the earth; they come and go\nin the early morning hours, they are only seen once in a lifetime, they\nare like a greeting from a better world, a flash from the island of the\nphoenix. Thousands and thousands of pilgrims have wandered round the\nlake in the course of centuries, and have seen the dawn and sunset, but\nhave never witnessed the display which we gazed upon from the middle of\nthe holy lake on this memorable night. But soon the magical effects of\nlight and colour, which have quickly followed one another and held me\nentranced, fade away. The country assumes its usual aspect, and is\novershadowed by dense clouds. Kailas and Gurla Mandatta vanish\nentirely, and only a snowy crest far away to the north-west is still\ndyed a deep carmine, only yonder a sheaf of sunbeams penetrates through\nan opening in the clouds. In that direction the mirror of the lake is\ntinged blue, but to the south green. The wild-geese have waked up, and\nthey are heard cackling on their joyous flights, and now and then a gull\nor tern screams. Bundles of seaweed float about. The sky is threatening,\nbut the air is calm, and only gentle swells, smooth as polished metal,\ndisturb the water, which looks like the clearest cura\u00e7\u00e3o. The boat moves\nwith weary slowness to its destination, for now, at six o'clock in the\nmorning, my oarsmen are tired and sleepy and quite at an end of their\nstrength. They sleep and row alternately. \"Hem-mala-h\u00e9m\" calls out\nShukkur Ali, accenting the last syllable, when he energetically grasps\nhis oar, but he goes to sleep between, and the oar hovers in the air;\nhis own voice wakes him up, he dips the oar in and goes to sleep again.\n\n[Illustration: 248. ROBERT IN THE BOAT.]\n\nThe hours pass by, but there is no sign that we are nearing our\ndestination. We cannot decide which bank is nearest, and we seem to be\nin the centre of this boundless lake. In the midst of Gurla Mandatta is\nseen a huge deeply eroded ravine, its entrance standing out\npicturesquely below the dense mantle of clouds. For a moment, when all\naround lay buried in shadow, the interior was lighted up by the sun, and\nit presented a fantastic appearance, resembling a portal into a hall of\nthe gigantic dome lighted up by innumerable candles. The valleys and\nerosion channels between the different spurs of the massive are sharply\ndefined, and wind down to the lake among flat cones of detritus, the\nouter margins of which cause the variations in the depth of the bottom.\nThis now increases again to 200, 203, 213, and 240 feet. At fourteen\npoints, these included, the bottom temperature is observed. The sounding\noccupies a considerable time. The line must first be paid out to the 230\nfeet, and then be held still till the thermometer has assumed the bottom\ntemperature, and then it must be drawn up again, the depth must be\nnoted, the thermometer read, the temperature of the surface water and\nthe air must be ascertained, and the log-reading taken.\n\nFive furlongs to the north the smooth swell shows a curious fiery yellow\ncolour, and I cannot make out the origin of this singular reflexion. The\nclouds gather in the south-west, and a breeze sweeps over the lake,\nproducing waves which retard still more the progress of the boat. Rehim\nAli cannot keep himself awake any longer, and Shukkur Ali is very\ncomical in his overpowering sleepiness. The old man looks like a\nweather-beaten sea-dog in a south-wester--his Ladaki cap with its\nspreading flaps. He snoozes innocently with his oars up, and rows again\nand again in the air, still calling out his constant \"Shu-ba-la-la.\" He\ntalks in his sleep. Rehim Ali wakes up and asks him what is the matter,\nand no one knows what it is all about. Towards seven o'clock the dustman\npays me a visit, but is not admitted. Only for a moment I see red wild\nasses running over the water, hear harps playing sweetly in the air, and\nbehold the great black head of a sea-serpent rise above the waves and\nthen sink down again; green dolphins and small whales arch their backs\namong the waves--but no, I must keep awake, for a storm may come down\nupon us any moment. I give my boatmen a good douche with the hollow of\nmy hand, wash my own hands and face, and order breakfast--a hard-boiled\ngoose egg, a piece of bread, and a bowl of milk, and then I light my\npipe and am as lively again as a lark. At the twentieth sounding-place,\n259 feet deep, the other two follow my example.\n\nAt nine o'clock, when we have been exactly twelve hours on the water, we\nsound a depth of 268.4 feet, but the south-western shore seems to our\neyes as far off as ever. Rehim Ali thinks it is awful to have so much\nwater under the keel. The clouds on Gurla lift a little, and we see\ndeeper into the recesses of the great valley the more we come opposite\nits mouth. The lower points of the snowfields come into sight below the\nclouds. West of them is seen a broad erosion channel, grey with detritus\nand dotted with dark brushwood. The water reflects the forms of the\nmountains like a mirror; it turns blue when the sky is clear, but green\nagain as soon as the clouds gather. A shoal of fishes plays in the water\nand splashes on the surface.\n\nAnd again the hours of the day pass by. We glide slowly forwards, now\nover calm rising swell, whispering gently as spirit voices, now over\nsmall pyramidal waves produced by the meeting of two systems of\nundulations from different directions. Four small squalls from different\nquarters threaten us, but we catch only a flip of their tails, which\ncannot stir up the waves to a dangerous height. The last, from the\nsouth-east, is the strongest, and then the sail is hoisted. But still\nthe shore seems far distant; perhaps Tsering was right with his\nLamaistic wisdom.\n\nAll details, however, become sharper and clearer. Gurla turns three\nmighty gables towards the lake, and between them huge fans of detritus\nand erosion channels come to view. The fans become flatter towards the\nshore, and extend under the water down to the greatest depths of the\nlake; on the north shore, where a wide plain lies, the lake bottom might\nbe expected to sink more slowly. Gurla is a splendid background to the\nholy lake--no artist in the world could conceive anything more\nmagnificent and interesting.\n\nThen we sounded 253, 243, 253, 223, 190, 177, and 82 feet, and perceived\nat length that the shore was near, for yaks and sheep were visible on\nthe hills. The sea was now fairly high, and we had to bale the boat\ntwice, and my fur coat on the bottom was wet. The two tired and sleepy\nmen laboured painfully at the oars. We talked of how pleasant it would\nbe to land, kindle a fire, and take our tea and food, but the shore\nstill retired before us, and the hours of the afternoon slipped past.\nGurla seemed to rise in the south directly from the water, its level\nskirts and low slopes being much foreshortened. The monks of the\nmonastery here do not depend for water on the brooks, but drink the holy\nwater of the lake, which has in reality the taste of the purest, most\nwholesome, spring water. Its crystal purity and dark greenish-blue\ncolour are as beautiful as the flavour, and to pilgrims from a distance\nthe water of Manasarowar is preferable to sparkling champagne.\n\nAt last we were released from imprisonment in the boat. We saw the\nbottom through the clear water, and a few strokes of the oar brought the\nboat to a wall of clay and decaying weeds, which the winter ice had\npushed up on the bank. Inside the wall lies a longish lagoon, with mud\nin which one sinks to the knee. The time was half-past one, so we had\nbeen 16\u00bd hours on the lake. But when we had reached the shore we found\nit impossible to get on land. After I had thought over the matter, while\nthe men looked about them, we rowed northwards, and after an hour and a\nhalf discovered a place where the boat could be drawn ashore. Then we\nhad been eighteen hours on the water.\n\nA herdsman was seen, but he made off quickly. Fuel was collected and a\nfire lighted. Tea was infused and mutton fried, and when the three of us\nhad eaten our dinner a temporary tent was constructed of the oars, mast,\nand sail, in which I lay down to sleep towards seven o'clock, wrapped in\nmy fur, and with the life-buoys for a pillow. I had toiled for\nthirty-one hours continuously, so I went to sleep at once, and knew\nnothing of the storm which raged all night, or of the twenty-five\npilgrims who passed by at dawn on their circuit of the holy lake.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLV\n\nMORE LAKE VOYAGES\n\n\nI was awakened at six o'clock, having felt no cold in the night, for the\nminimum temperature was 40\u00b0. The morning was fine, only too warm; the\npilgrims had gone away; we ate our breakfast, pushed the boat into the\nwater, and rowed about 90 yards from the shore towards the\nnorth-north-east and north-north-west, describing a slight bend to camp\nNo. 214. On our left hand was a row of pebble mounds, gradually rising\nto the top of the promontory which separates Manasarowar from Rakas-tal.\n\nSoon the monastery Gossul-gompa was seen on its pebble terrace, nearly\n130 feet high, like a swallow's nest hanging over the lake. A group of\nlamas stood silently watching the boat; they had never in their lives\nseen such a contrivance on the holy lake. When we drew near they\nvanished like rats into their holes, and only an old man remained\nsitting by a balustrade. I asked him the name of the monastery, and he\nsaid Gossul-gompa. The next point shut out the convent. The shore\nlagoons continue, though the margin below the hills is only 30 to 60\nfeet broad. The clay in which the lagoons are embedded is impermeable to\nwater, but the lake has only to rise a couple of feet to find an outlet\nover the sandbank behind into the Rakas-tal, or Langak-tso, on the west.\nAnd when the channel at the north-west corner is silted up, as it is\nnow, the Manasarowar has a subterranean outlet to the neighbouring lake,\nand its water consequently remains perfectly fresh.\n\nI now intended to camp a little to the north at some suitable spot, and\nthence row the following day over the lake to our headquarters near\nSerolung-gompa. We took bearings of a cinnabar-red hill lying on the\nnorth side of a slightly indented bay of the western shore. A fresh\nsoutherly breeze was blowing, we hoisted the sail, and flew whizzing\nover the lake. The pilgrims watched our voyage with the greatest\nastonishment, and the monks of Gossul cautiously followed us on the\nhills, no doubt wondering how such sacrilege would end. The wild-geese\nswam with their young ones out into the lake, while other swimming birds\ntook themselves off some 100 yards inland, perhaps taking the boat for a\ncurious water-bird of unusual size.\n\nWe went ashore at the red promontory, and while fuel was being collected\nand the camp arranged, I reconnoitred the neighbourhood from the heights\nabove the landing-place. On the inner side of the shallow bay I found a\nhollow with its bottom lower than the surface of the lake, and filled\nwith salt water, and on the west side of this swamp lies the lowest dip\nin the isthmus separating the twin lakes. Up there runs the pilgrim\nroad, worn down by hundreds of thousands of weary feet. Three armed\nhorsemen rode along the way. They came up without dismounting, and\nevidently did not know what to make of me. They could easily have taken\nme prisoner now that I was separated from my men, but they did not think\nof it, and rode on. A furious storm swept over the lake, its surface was\nwildly agitated, and covered with white horses. The farther, eastern\npart was of a deep green colour, while on our western shore it was\nlighter. The water of the shore lagoons was dark purple from the\nreflexion of the dense clouds. Towards four o'clock the air became\noppressively still, then the wind sprang up, and an equally violent\nnorth-west storm came down raging and roaring. The wild south-easterly\nwaves were suppressed by it, and the undulations remained uncertain till\nthe new wave system was established. There was rain in many places round\nthe lake, but we felt only a few drops. About six o'clock the sky looked\nthreatening, with pitch-dark clouds all around, and not a trace could be\nseen of the eastern shore; we seemed to stand on the coast of the\nocean. Soon after the wind veered round to the east-south-east, and then\nthe surf beat all the evening against our beach. How fortunate that the\nweather had not been like this the evening before!\n\nWe sat two hours by the fire and talked. Its flames flickered and darted\nin all directions, so that they singed Shukkur Ali's goat's beard. The\nweather was still so threatening that we made a shelter of the boat, in\nwhich I lay down early to sleep. Before dozing off I listened to the\nroar of the waves, and thought I heard all kinds of mysterious sounds in\nthe night, but it was only the cry of water-birds and the howling of the\nwind among the hills.\n\nThe men had orders to call me before sunrise, for we must hasten if we\nwished to reach camp No. 212 before darkness set in. It was scarcely\nlight when I came out of my shelter. The last provisions were consumed\nby the morning fire, and then we put off about half-past four in dull,\ndisagreeable weather. The strong west wind carried us rapidly away from\nthe shore--indeed, it was really too strong for our sail and mast, but\nit took us on and doubled our pace. We had been sheltered under the\nhills, but when we were a few minutes from the beach the lake became\nuncomfortably rough. But it was of little consequence, for we sailed\nwith the waves and took in no water.\n\nThe men, too, were more alive than on the first nocturnal voyage. They\nhad evidently made up their minds to reach their destination before\nnight, and they rowed like galley-slaves with the whip hanging over\nthem; they seemed to run a race with the west wind, and try to get away\nbefore the waves rose too madly. The water hissed and foamed round the\nboat, and bubbled in the wake as when butter is browned in a pan, and\nbeneath us the lake boiled up. It was a fine voyage as we rocked,\nspinning rapidly over the holy waves.\n\n[Illustration: 249. SHEEP-SHEARING AT TUGU-GOMPA ON MANASAROWAR.]\n\nShukkur Ali's refrain to the strokes of the oars is now \"Ya pat\u00e9,\nparvardigar Rabel, alehmin\" or \"Illallah,\" while Rehim Ali responds to\nthe cry of his comrade with \"Haap\"--the _p_ jerked out quickly and\nloudly like an explosion--and with the refrain \"Illallah,\" or\n\"Svalallah.\" The Arabic words are, as usual in Ladak, much corrupted,\nbut they lighten the work, and after Shukkur Ali had yelled them out\nthirty-five times in a minute for nine hours as loudly as his vocal\ncords would let him, he was dreadfully hoarse in the evening.\n\nThen the soundings were 131, 171, 171, 177, 177, 185, 187, and 177. Out\nbeyond the abrasion terrace and its rather steep escarpment, the lake\nbottom is practically level. Hanging cloud fringes show that rain is\npouring down in torrents on most sides, but we escape it. My excellent\nboatmen row twice as fast as on the first night, but it is impossible to\ninduce them to row in time. If I loose the rudder a moment, my boat\nfalls off to the north or south instead of making east, where camp No.\n212 lies. If it is dark before we reach the shore, our men are to light\na pile of wood to guide us.\n\nThe day draws to an end, the wind sweeps away the clouds, and they seem\nto gather round the mountains, which form a grand wreath around this\npearl of lakes. The wind dies quite away, the sun scorches my\nweather-beaten face, and it is trying to the eyes when the sparkling\ngold of the sunbeams falls straight upon them. Their blinding light\nmakes it difficult to distinguish our goal, but I hold the compass in my\nhand. The waves sink and become more languid, and the sea is again\nsmooth as glass. Now we move more slowly, for the wind no longer pushes\nbehind, but the men are unwearied; their boat-song dies away over the\nwater, awaking no echo. The hills of the eastern shore show no\nperceptible difference in size between one sounding-point and the next.\nI sit dreaming, the rhythmical song and the splashing of the oars\nexercising a soporific effect. I seem to hear the tramp of a horse which\nbears a rider in silver harness over the granite mountains of the\nTrans-Himalaya through an unknown land, and in the dream I perceive that\nthe features of the rider are my own. Then I am sad, for the dream is\nfalse. I have certainly crossed the Trans-Himalaya by three passes, but\nthe most important part of the exploration has not been accomplished.\nThat I have done my utmost in dealing both with the Tibetans and the\nChinese to gain access to the country north of the Tsangpo is no\nconsolation to me. If one can storm the opposing bulwark of Nature, one\nshould be able to overcome the obstinacy of man. Up yonder in the north,\nbehind Kailas, the Trans-Himalaya extends its granite ramparts, and I\nmust go there though it cost me my life. I must go there, if I clothe\nmyself in the rags of a mendicant lama and beg my way from one black\ntent to another.\n\nBut we are still on the holy lake; it is a day of rest and a summer's\nday. I feel the skin of my face cracked by the burning of the sun. The\nhours crawl so slowly over the lake; patience, patience. The clouds\ndisplay wonderful tone-effects; white and grey, sharply defined, they\nlie in different stages before the mountains, and behind them dark blue\nand purple curtains seem to hang down. We might be gliding over the\nbright floor of a temple hall, its walls richly decorated with flags and\nstandards, which hang down from golden hooks on the ceiling of the sky,\nand touch the dust of earth with their fringes. The genii of Siva's\nparadise seem to hover round us. Now Shukkur Ali has taken to a new cry:\n\"Ya aferin ad\u00e9tt,\" to which he adds \"Ya, Allah,\" as he lifts his oar,\nand Rehim Ali chimes in with \"Shupp.\" The depth still remains about 180\nfeet. To the south-east curious clouds are reflected in the lake, and a\nmist seems to be creeping over the water. All the tones are so light,\nairy, and grey that the landscape, which surrounds us like a ring where\nthe water ends, seems hardly real. The twin summits of Pundi on the\nnorth-east are dark and solemn, and equally dark and solemn is the\nmirror of the lake. Silver beads drop from the oars and glitter like\ndiamonds in the sun. I could live and die on this heavenly lake without\never growing weary of the wonderful spectacle always presenting fresh\nsurprises.\n\nMeanwhile a light south-easterly breeze disturbs again all the\nreflexions. The valleys Pachen and Pachung open their doors wider and\nwider, and allow us to see deeper into the recesses of the mountain. We\nrecognize the hills above camp No. 212, but the tents are not visible.\nBut we see a white spot on the northern shore which we take for a gompa.\nThe depth is somewhat over 197 feet; \"Ya bismillah hum!\" is Shukkur\nAli's exclamation. At the sixteenth point the depth has again decreased,\nthe south-easterly breeze has ceased, and the lake is again a sheet of\nglass. Now the tents can be seen as tiny specks, and we hope to complete\nthis line also without a storm. A long, low, smooth swell of closely\nfollowing waves, like the wake of a distant steamer, comes to meet us.\nHow has it been produced, since the lake is quite peaceful? Perhaps by a\nslight convulsion of the earth's crust, which has disturbed the shore.\nThe undulations on this round lake are very peculiar. At point No. 20\nthe depth is only 128 feet, and now we have not far to go.\n\nCrack! Shukkur Ali's oar broke off in the middle with a bang, and the\nboat drew rapidly away from the blade end, which had to be picked up.\nThe good man was so dumbfoundered and bewildered that he stammered,\n\"That does not matter,\" and went on rowing with the shaft in the air.\nNow, when the tents were so near, he had developed too much strength.\n\"It is well that the old man does not burst himself,\" I thought. We tied\nthe parts together with a piece of string. There was a stir on the shore\nwhen we landed. The waiting men showed by word and gesture how glad they\nwere to have us back again after giving way to all kinds of dismal\nforebodings about our sad fate. Just as they caught sight of the boat\nout on the lake, Robert was about to send out patrols up and down the\nshore. All was well in the camp, except that the Tibetans were troubled\nbecause their provisions were at an end. I gave them money to buy\n_tsamba_ at the monastery. In the evening I discussed with Robert a plan\nof rowing southwards to investigate the lake bit by bit. We bought a\nplank and two staves in Serolung, and on the first leisure day Shukkur\nAli cut out with an axe two excellent oars, after a pattern I had cut\nfor him from the lid of a cigarette box.\n\nOn the next day, the anniversary of my arrival in Leh, a new month\nbegan. Every time I write in my diary \"the first,\" I wonder what the\nnew month holds in its lap--new discoveries or new disappointments? But\nI hope always, and believe that all will come right at last. Rabsang and\nTundup Sonam rowed, and Robert steered along the three-feet line about\n55 yards from the land, while I sat in the bow, compass in hand, and\ndrew a map of the shore-line, the hills and valleys, and all the details\nthat are characteristic of a lake. Charles A. Sherring states in his\nbook on western Tibet that Mr. Drummond, Commissioner of Bareilly,\nsailed in 1855 in a boat on Manasarowar, but no result has come to my\nknowledge; on the contrary, I find that the very latest map of the lake\nneeds a thorough correction. Soundings had never been taken before, and\nthe object of my boating expeditions was to collect material for a\ndetailed isobathic map. When we left behind us the basin of the\nBrahmaputra at the pass Tamlung, I had already suspected that\nManasarowar was a member of the hydrographic system of the Sutlej, and I\nwished to try if I could not make a contribution towards the solution of\nthis problem. I knew that my investigations could only be inadequate,\nbut they yielded a number of facts hitherto unknown. Among these are the\nsystematic sounding of the bed, by means of which conclusions may be\ndrawn as to the origin and formation of the lake. I soon convinced\nmyself that the lake depression had been excavated by old glaciers from\nthe southern mountains, as I at first conjectured, and was not dammed up\nby moraine walls across the broad valley. But want of space forbids me\nto enter fully into a discussion of this interesting question.\n\nWe glide in a flat curve to the south-west, and have to increase our\ndistance from the shore that we may not run aground on the sandy bottom.\nThe water at this season of the year has a fairly constant temperature\nof about 50\u00b0. Then we approach the mouth of the Tage-tsangpo. For about\ntwo-thirds of a mile the river flows parallel to the shore of the lake,\nbeing separated from it by an embankment 13 feet high, which has been\ncast up by the waves and the pressure of the ice. Here we encamped among\ndriftsand and bushes, and measured the Tage-tsangpo. Its breadth was\n56.8 feet, its maximum depth 3.4 feet, and its discharge 397.6 cubic\nfeet a second, or 106 cubic feet more than where we last gauged it above\nthe Na-marden affluent. I have already related how we first came in\ncontact with this river at the pass Tam-lung-la; its source stream, the\nGang-lung-chu or \"water of the ice valley,\" comes from the Gang-lung\nmountain in the south, and so there is a glacier or \"ice valley\" in this\nmountain which is the origin of the Tage-tsangpo. It is seen from the\nTam-lung-la, and is the glacier which I venture to call the Sutlej's\ngenetic source or the real original source. We shall return to this\nattractive problem.\n\nFrom every camp on the lake Robert rowed out with two men at right\nangles to the beach, sounding the depth every five minutes. By means of\nthese radiating lines we discovered the saucer-shaped form of the lake,\nfor, as I have already remarked, the lake bottom is on the whole very\neven. Now, from camp No. 215, Robert rowed out to a depth of 121 feet.\n\nOn August 2 we continued our boating excursion, while the caravan\nmarched along the shore. All went excellently well, we heard not a word\nof any officials in pursuit of us, and the Tibetans placed yaks and\nmules at our disposal with the greatest willingness. A couple of showers\nfell, loud thunder rolled in Gurla Mandatta, and a violent\nsouth-westerly breeze forced us to come to a halt and wait at a place on\nthe shore where the brook from the Nima-pendi valley debouches, forming\na delta within a broken mole. Fish are plentiful in the brook, but here\nalso the Tibetans asked us not to catch them, and we respected their\nwishes--only stupid and uncouth men wound the religious feelings of\nothers. By this brook the lake receives a tribute of 49.4 cubic feet per\nsecond, while the Richung-chu entering farther to the west-south-west\ncontributes 63.6 cubic feet.\n\nWe passed Yanggo-gompa under sail at a rather short distance, and\nsteered straight for Tugu-gompa, picturesquely situated on a strand\nterrace. Here begin the long lagoons and mud embankment we had seen from\nthe western beach, and we were carried comfortably ashore and greeted\npolitely by a band of Hindus consisting of pilgrims and traders. A\nnumber of Tibetan shepherds from the north were staying here, where a\nnot unimportant wool market is held every summer. A group of monks stood\non the roof. Our camp was pitched close to the foot of the monastery, on\nthe shore road, and had a fine view over the lake and Kailas behind it.\nAt the southern wall of the convent is a yard enclosed by a stone wall,\nwhere 500 sheep were packed like herrings in a barrel, to be shorn in\nturn by Hindus and Botias who come from Almora and the border country in\nthe south. The nomads receive eight annas (8d.) for every sheep, good\ninterest on their live capital. The wool from 500 sheep is said to\namount to 16 yak-loads (Illust. 249).\n\n[Illustration: 250. THE GOD OF THE LAKE RISING FROM TSO-MAVANG.\n\n Sketch by the Author.]\n\nWe paid at once a visit to the monastery, where the thirteen monks and\ntheir abbot, Tabga Rinchen, received us with the greatest kindness and\npoliteness, showed us everything, and explained to us the various temple\nhalls. They had heard of my voyages on the lake, and had now seen with\ntheir own eyes my boat sailing before a favourable wind, and they\nexpressed their sincere conviction that I must possess occult powers to\ndefy with impunity the god of the holy lake. But they understood that\nthis was owing to my friendship with the Tashi Lama, who had given me\nhis holy blessing. The monastery Tugu-gompa is a dependency of\nShibeling-gompa in Purang, and most of the monks come from there to\nspend three years on the lake. They own herds in Chang-tang, trade, and\nseem to be in good circumstances; at any rate, they help the poor\npilgrims who have nothing to eat on their wanderings round Tso-mavang.\nThey receive gifts from well-to-do pilgrims. The temple halls are\npicturesque, handsome and in very good order. You enter from an upper\nbalcony into an outer hall with wall paintings, among which is a picture\nof Tso-mavang with the fish-god, Mad\u00f6 Gemo, rising from the waves\n(Illust. 250). He has seven water-snakes in his hair, and the lower part\nof his body is like a green dolphin. The lake is as deep as it is broad,\nand concentric rings encircle the rising god. The abbot said that the\nfish-god comes up to greet the god of Tso-mavang, Hlabsen Dorche\nBarva, who gallops in a cloud of grey fiery tongues and smoke on a pink\nhorse, and is armed with spear, bow and quiver. In the background stands\nKang-rinpoche, the holy mountain. The whole picture is wanting in\nperspective and proportion, but it is curious and interesting, and the\nLamaist artist has done his best to idealize the holy lake by his\ndrawing and colouring. I made a copy of this work of art, which has some\nrelationship with our old country paintings.\n\nFrom the entrance hall a small door gives access to the holiest shrine\nin all Tugu-gompa, namely, the hall of the lake god. He is represented\nonly as a mask, surrounded by _kadakhs_, and seems to peep out from\nbetween curtains. A couple of flames burn before him and the usual bowls\nare placed on a stool table. No man but the monks themselves may enter\nthis little alcove, but I obtained permission to sit on the threshold\nand draw a sketch of it (Illust. 251). I regarded this unknown Hlabsen\nDorche Barva almost with reverence, for he ruled over my beloved lake\nand had been so gracious to me.\n\nBut the finest sight of all was the view from the monastery roof. The\nhighest parts of Gurla Mandatta, here called Mama-nani or Mamo-nani,\nwere concealed by the lower flanks, for we were too near to it, but the\nsurface of the lake stretched out northwards to an immense distance. A\nlama, who had served at several different times in the convent, asserted\nthat the lake rose 24 to 28 inches in rainy summers, and declared that\neighteen years before the water had reached to the foot of the red\nfa\u00e7ade of the monastery. This seemed improbable, for the distance\nbetween the lake and the monastery was 323 feet, and the foot of the\nconvent fa\u00e7ade (the right corner looking from the strand) lay 20.67 feet\nabove the level of the lake. I quote these figures to enable a future\nexplorer to determine whether the lake has risen or fallen since August\n2, 1907.\n\nI passed the next days in the monastery, sketched the lamas at their\nvarious temple services, and fell in love with this pleasant, handsome\nTugu-gompa. Punso Lama, a young monk, was my particular friend, and\nshowed me everything with the inexhaustible knowledge of a trained\nmuseum attendant. Three officials of the Devashung had established\nthemselves in the entrance hall in the company of the four ghostly\nkings, and mattresses, bundles, tables, swords and guns lay or stood in\nprofane disorder at the entrance to the dwelling of the high gods\n(Illusts. 252, 253, 257).\n\nMeanwhile Robert rowed out from the southern shore, and sounded the\ndepths down to the contour of 207 feet. On August 5, we paid a visit to\nYanggo-gompa, which contains ten monks and a nun. They told me that they\ncame from the Hor country in the north of central Tibet, and therefore\ncall themselves Horpa, but also Dokpa; the Changpa are the nomads of\nChang-tang. The abbot is from Sekiya-gompa. In the monastery's\n_gunkang_, a dark subterranean crypt, hang masks, _kadakhs_, drums,\nspears and guns. I asked for what purpose the monks wanted the firearms,\nas one of their fundamental dogmas forbids them to extinguish the light\nof life, and they answered that with these guns many wild yaks had been\nkilled, whose flesh had been used for human food, and that therefore the\nguns had been installed in a place of honour in the monastery. Yamba\nTsering, a monk twenty-two years old, sat with his head against a wooden\npillar, and gazed in silence at the dim light which fell into the crypt\nthrough an impluvium; he looked like a dreamer, a searcher after hidden\ntruth (Illust. 256). Beside him sat the wrinkled nun. Both found their\nway into my sketch-book (Illusts. 258, 259). The foot of the monastery\nfa\u00e7ade lies exactly 14\u00be feet above the level of the lake, and the river\nRichen-chu, entering the lake behind the convent, discharges 62.15 cubic\nfeet of water.\n\nYanggo-gompa was the third of the eight monasteries of the holy lake\nwhich I had visited, and I wished to see them all without exception. And\nI also wished to gauge all the streams falling into the lake. It\nfluctuates from day to day, according as there is rain or sunshine, but\nonly by exact measurements could I arrive at the volume which is poured\ninto the clear basin of Tso-mavang during a day of summer.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVI\n\nA STORMY VOYAGE OVER THE HOLY LAKE\n\n\nOn August 6 we stayed at Tugu-gompa, one of the most interesting\nmonasteries I have seen in Tibet. I was engaged all day long, with\nRobert and Rabsang to assist me, in measuring with a tape the dimensions\nof the three storeys, and drawing plans of them. The third, however, is\nlittle more than a roof balcony. I have no space to give the results\nhere. As we were on the roof, eight monks were sitting in the inner\ncourt counting their receipts, which were duly entered in a cash-book.\nTheir rupees and _tengas_ lay in heaps on a short-legged table. I gave a\nhandful of rupees, throwing them among the piles, and disturbing the\ncalculations of the monks. However, they were very thankful for this\nunexpected contribution, which seemed to fall from heaven.\n\nAbout thirty Hindu pilgrims set up their shabby tents near us. In the\nevening they lighted a fire on a flat metal dish, which was pushed out\non to the water, and shone like a beacon fire by the bank. This floating\npyre was meant as a homage to the lake.\n\nOn August 7 I was awakened early when the sun was pouring fresh gold\nover the blue lake, and a lama on the convent roof was blowing\nlong-drawn heavy notes from his shell horn over the surface. I hastened\nto the shore where the boat lay ready with its usual equipment, Shukkur\nAli and Tundup Sonam put the sounding-line in order and stowed our\nbaggage. The Hindus lined the bank like the wild-geese, left their\nclothing on land, and waded, with only a cloth round their loins, to\nbathe in the holy beatifying water of the lake. It must be very\nrefreshing to people from the close jungles of India to wash in such a\ncool morning in water at only a few degrees above freezing-point. Most\nof them, however, go in no farther than up to their knees. There they\nsquat down, or scoop up the water in their joined hands, and throw it\nover them. They make symbolical signs, fill their mouth with water and\nsend it out in a stream, hold their hands flat against their faces and\nlook at the rising sun, and perform all kinds of absurd, complicated\nmanipulations, which I remember seeing at the gh\u00e2ts of Benares. They are\nsunburnt, thin and miserable, and they are too thinly clad--I did not\nsee a single sheepskin--and they complain of the severity of the\nclimate, catch chills, and come to my tent for medicine. Some stood\nabout an hour in the water before they returned to the beach to put on\ntheir clothing, and then they sat in groups talking. But they return to\nthe valleys of India convinced that they have performed an action\nwell-pleasing to the gods, and they take with them small metal-bottles\nfilled with holy water from Manasarowar to give to their relations. They\nbelieve that one of the ways of salvation runs past Manasarowar. They\nare always hopeful, and that is a fine thing for poor pilgrims on the\nface of the earth.\n\n[Illustration: 251. TEMPLE HALL OF THE LAKE-GOD OF TSO-MAVANG.]\n\n[Illustration: 252. CHENRESI'S IMAGE IN TUGU-GOMPA.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nThey stared with astonishment at our boat, which was driven out from the\nshore by powerful strokes, perhaps with envious eyes, for many asked me\nafterwards to let them go with me, that they might for the rest of their\nlives look back to the time when they floated on the sacred waves. The\nlake lay smooth and still, but at the first sounding-station (115 feet),\nthe lake god shook himself, a north-westerly breeze sprang up, and the\nwaves splashed and danced briskly against our bow, for our third line of\nsoundings was carried north, 27\u00b0 W., towards camp No. 214. We sounded\n174, 207, 226, 236, 236, 246, and 253 feet, while the waves increased,\nand the boat rode well but with diminished speed. Gurla Mandatta was\nalmost clear, but Kailas was buried in clouds. The wind fell and the sun\nglowed, and everything foretold a fine day. At the ninth point the\ndepth was less, 246 feet; we had passed the line of soundings made in\nthe night and its great depths. Afterwards the depths were 223, 197,\n187, 194, and 200 feet.\n\nThe north-westerly breeze began to blow again, and at mid-day clouds\ngathered in the north. A heavy bluish-grey layer of clouds sank down\nslowly on the mountain flanks, and from its under side rain fringes hung\ndown, greyish-purple on a compact dark background. All the mountains and\nthe whole strand disappeared, and the masses of cloud seemed as though\nthey would fall on the lake. We passed the fifteenth station, which\nshowed a depth of 200 feet, and kept a steady course towards the red\npromontory. The rowers put forth all their strength when I had pointed\nout to them that we were drawing near to the shelter of the bank, and\nthat the waves were becoming smaller the farther we advanced. We had\nleft Gossul-gompa a good distance to the left; I could not see the\nmonastery myself, but the men saw it as a small white speck in the\ndistance.\n\nJust before one o'clock yellow swirls of dust and sand appeared near the\nlandspit which we were making for. They became denser and larger, and\nlooked yellow and dismal on the dark purple background of gathering\nclouds. It was not the first time I had seen such storm warnings.\n\n\"We are in for a storm,\" I said quietly.\n\n\"God is with us,\" replied Shukkur Ali quite as calmly.\n\n\"Row on and we shall get in before the waves are high.\"\n\n\"If we turn straight to the shore, it will be nearer,\" suggested Shukkur\nAli.\n\n\"No, we will not alter the course, we will make straight for our goal,\nand we shall soon be in the shelter of the hills on the shore; there are\nonly three soundings to be taken, and they can be left for another\ntime.\"\n\nThe wind fell again, and it began to rain in a few large drops, which on\nreaching the surface of the water remained an instant as separate round\nbeads, as though they were covered with a film of oil. Then followed an\nextremely heavy shower of hail which lashed the water as it streamed\ndown, enveloped us in semi-darkness, caused the lake to leap up in\nmillions of tiny fountains, and in two minutes made the inside of the\nboat white. Nothing was visible but ourselves and the boat, only water\nand hail, which scourged the lake like rods and produced a hissing\ngurgle. Now and then the clouds were lighted up by quivering lightning,\nand the thunder growled heavily and threateningly in the north. Then the\nmen turned round, but could see nothing in the mist; they were uneasy\nand we all felt that there was danger ahead.\n\nThe hail was followed by pelting rain, a downpour of such furious\nimpetuosity that I could not imagine any more tremendous. It fell in\nsuch quantities and with such force that we were bowed down by it. I had\non three shirts and a leather vest, but after a short time I felt that\nthe water was streaming down my bare skin, which had this advantage that\nall the future douches that awaited us could make no further impression.\nI had my fur coat on my knees with the skin side up, and in all its\nhollows the water collected in small pools. A quantity of water fell\ninto the boat and washed about with the stroke of the oars. The shore\nwas not visible, and I steered by the compass.\n\n\"Row on, we have not much farther to go.\"\n\nAt length the rain became finer, but at four minutes after one o'clock,\nwe heard a deafening roar in the north-east, a sound such as only a\nstorm of the greatest violence can produce. Hail and rain were nothing\nto it; now that the heavy sheets of water were withdrawn the storm had a\nfree course and swept suddenly and furiously over the lake. Why had we\nnot started an hour earlier, instead of watching the religious ablutions\nof the Hindus? No, the god of Tso-mavang was angry and would teach us\nonce for all not to treat so lightly the lake which splashes his\ndolphin's tail with its green water. How we envied the monks in\nGossul-gompa, and our men down in the south under the peaceful walls of\nthe Tugu monastery! What would they say, what would they do, if we were\ndrowned like cats in this raging lake?\n\nFor a minute we struggled frantically to keep our course in spite of\nthe waves which swept upon us from the right. They swelled up with\nastonishing rapidity, and every wave which dashed against the taut\ncanvas of the boat and dissolved into spray, made a cracking sound as\nthough the little vessel were about to burst. The next was still larger;\nI warded it off with my Indian helmet, and Tundup Sonam received a cold\nbuffet which disconcerted him for a moment. After the third, which threw\nits foaming crest over the gunwale, the water stood 4 inches deep in the\nboat, the little nutshell with the weight of three men lay far too deep\nin the water, and the water we had shipped gurgled, lapped, and splashed\nhither and thither with the roll of the boat.\n\nNow I perceived that the attempt to hold our course was hopeless. We\nmust fall off with the wind and waves. We had Gossul-gompa to the south,\n50\u00b0 W., and the storm was from the north-east; we could find refuge in\nthe monastery, if we could get so far. The difficulty was to turn at\nright angles without capsizing. Twice I failed, and we shipped more\nwater, but the third time I succeeded, and now, if we had any care for\nour lives we must prevent the boat from veering up into the wind; the\nstorm came a little from the right. Tundup Sonam, who rowed the\nstarboard oar in the bow, had all the work, while Shukkur Ali had only\nto dip in his oar occasionally at my command, but though outwardly calm\nhe was too excited and eager, and when my voice could not be heard amid\nthe howling of the storm, I put my hand on his knuckles to make him\nleave the oar alone.\n\nNow began a voyage such as I had never experienced in all my journeys in\nTibet. The storm increased to a hurricane, and under its pressure the\nwaves became as high as the billows of the Baltic in stormy weather; a\nsteamer would have rolled in such a sea, and we in the little canvas\nboat had to negotiate the unexpected cross rolls following one another.\nLashed, hunted, and persecuted by the raging force of the wind, we swept\nover the lake. Every new wave that lifted us up seemed bigger than the\nlast. Some had sharp smooth crests, as though moulded out of mountain\ncrystal, and reflected the dark clouds in the north. It seemed as\nthough a bottomless, watery grave yawned in front of us which might at\nany moment swallow up our boat. Others came rolling up foam-capped,\nhissing and thundering behind us, and we shuddered at the thought that\nthey might fill the boat in an instant and send it to the bottom, but it\nrose bravely over the crests. The view was open on all sides, the sun\nwas visible in the south, Gurla Mandatta was clear and sharp, to the\nsouth, 50\u00b0 W., even the terrace on which Gossul-gompa stands could be\nseen, and it was black and threatening only in the north. During the\nsecond when the boat was balanced quivering on the crest of the wave, we\nmight fancy ourselves transplanted to a lofty pass in Chang-tang with a\nworld of mountain ranges all round us, while the foam of the waves had\nan illusive resemblance to the fields of eternal snow.\n\nBut this wave also passes on and the boat sinks into a hollow, we fall\ninto a water grotto, the nearest waves conceal the view, the walls of\nthe grotto are of the purest malachite behind us and like emerald in\nfront. Now we are lifted up again--\"At it, Tundup Sonam, or the huge\nfoaming crest will thrust us down!\"--he puts forth all his strength and\nthe wave passes us. It is irregular and reminds us of the pyramidal\nsummit of Kubi-gangri; two such crests tower up in front of us, and\ntheir edges are shattered into spray by the wind. They are as\ntransparent as glass, and through one of them the image of Gurla\nMandatta's bright white snowfields is refracted as in a magnifying\nglass. We have a watery portal in front of us and the tips of the waves\nare gilded with the faint reflexion of the sun in the south.\n\n[Illustration: 253. THE LHAKANG HALL IN TUGU-GOMPA.\n\n Sketch by the Author.]\n\nWe struggle bravely and I sit on the bottom of the boat pushing the\nrudder with all my strength to keep the boat in the right direction,\nwhile the spray, lashed by the wind, spurts over us as from a fire-hose.\nFrequently a broken crest slips over the gunwale, but we have not a hand\nfree to bale out the water. We see the boat filling slowly--shall we\nreach the bank before it sinks? The mast and sail lie with two reserve\noars tied fast across the middle of the boat. If we could set a sail the\nboat would be easier to handle, but it is not to be thought of now,\nwhen we can hardly keep our balance sitting down and stiffening\nourselves with our feet, with the heavy blows and the unexpected\npositions the boat assumes according to the form of the waves, their\nslopes, curves and curls. And, besides, in such a storm the mast would\nbreak like glass.\n\nWe had turned at right angles to our line of soundings for now we\nthought only of saving our lives, if that were possible--to reach the\nland before the boat sank. Then, in the most critical moment, when an\nirregular wave threatened the boat, I called on Tundup Sonam to put\nforth all his strength, and he did it too well, so that the oar broke\nwith a crack. Now all hung by a hair, we could not manage the boat and\nit must inevitably capsize and be swamped under this foaming crest. But\nTundup Sonam realized the danger, and with a quick grasp tore loose a\nreserve oar, while Shukkur Ali backed with the leeward oar; after\nanother douche we trimmed the boat again.\n\nThe longer the storm lasts and the larger the expanse of lake left\nbehind us in the north-east, the higher rise the waves; we are swept\nforwards, we rock up and down on the lumpy lake, and fresh cold douches\nare constantly poured over us from the crests as they split into spray\nlike plumes of feathers. How small and helpless we feel in the presence\nof these roused infuriated forces of Nature, how imposing and awful, and\nyet how grand and splendid is this spectacle! The two men had never in\ntheir lives seen anything to equal it. I sit with my back to the\npursuing billows, but the men have them before their faces, and I know\nwhen large waves are approaching by their muttered \"Ya Allah!\" Tundup is\nas pale as he can be with a sun-tanned skin; Shukkur Ali seems composed,\nbut he does not sing to-day as he dips in his oar. Tundup afterwards\nconfided to me that he was quite convinced that we should perish.\n\nIt is impossible to keep my eye-glasses dry and clear, and I have not\nfor a long time had a dry thread on me. Shukkur Ali turns round and says\nthat the monastery is in sight, but it is too far for my eyes. \"Look at\nthe wave yonder,\" I call out. \"Is it not beautiful?\" He smiles and\nmurmurs his \"Ya Allah.\" Its crest breaks close to us like a waterfall,\nand, air being forced into the water, it rises again in bubbling foam\nand the lake seems to boil and seethe. Hitherto there has been drizzling\nrain, but now the air is clear. The lake assumes a different hue, the\nwaves are dark and bright, close to us black as ink, but lighter towards\ntheir tips, and the horizon of the lake is often seen through the next\nwave as through a sheet of ice.\n\nThus we are driven on, and the time seems endless. For five quarters of\nan hour we have striven with the freaks of the lake god, and every\nminute has seemed to us an hour. At last the monastery Gossul appears\nand grows larger, the details becoming distinguishable, and I see the\nwhite fa\u00e7ade with its upper border of red, its windows and roof\nstreamers, and some monks behind a balustrade with their eyes fixed on\nthe boat. And below the cloister terrace there is wild foaming surf. How\nwe are to land I cannot imagine; I have experienced such adventures\nbefore, but never anything as furious as to-day. We envy the monks up\nabove with firm ground under their feet, and should like to be beside\nthem. The log has been out all the time, and now I draw it in with a\nquick pull and call out to the men to be ready to jump overboard when I\ngive the sign. I place the note-book and the map I have sketched to-day,\nall dripping with water, into the front of my leather vest, that at any\nrate I may not lose the figures I have obtained.\n\n[Illustration: 254. LAMA WITH PRAYER-DRUM.]\n\n[Illustration: 255. LAMA BEFORE THE TEMPLE DOOR IN TUGU-GOMPA.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nWe have only a few minutes more. With the help of Shukkur Ali I manage\nto get out of my heavy soaked boots, and have scarcely done so when the\nboat is pitched violently into the breakers on the shore. Here the water\nis as brown as oatmeal, and the undertow sucks out the boat again. Now\nTundup Sonam wishes to jump out of the boat but I advise him to try\nfirst with the oar if he can reach the bottom; he feels no ground and\nhas to wait patiently. The boat receives a blow from behind and\nthreatens to capsize; the oarsmen work as if they were possessed to\nfight against the undertow, and before I am aware Tundup has jumped out,\nand, up to his breast in water, draws the boat shorewards with all his\nmight. Now we two follow his example, and with our united strength\nsucceed at last in drawing the boat up the beach before the raging surf\ncan dash it to pieces. One more hard pull and we have drawn it up over\nthe mud embankment into the lagoon, which the waves cannot reach.\n\nNow we had had enough, and we threw ourselves down on the sand, quite\ntired out. The fearful excitement and tension of body and mind during an\nhour and a half was followed by stupor and weariness; we had nothing to\nsay to one another, and I gave no orders for the night. We were\nshipwrecked men, and had every reason to be pleased and thankful that we\nhad firm ground under our feet again, and had escaped safely from the\ngreen graves which had yawned below us, threatening to engulf us if we\nhad not been on the alert in critical moments.\n\nWe had only dozed a few minutes when two monks and three young novices\ncame gently over the sand and approached us cautiously, as if they were\nnot quite certain whether we were alive or dead. When we got up they\ngreeted us kindly, and inquired how we were and whether we needed help.\nThey were deeply interested, and told us how they had seen from their\nbalcony the boat tossing on the waves, and had been convinced that it\nmust founder in the unusually violent storm that had swept over the\nlake. They had been frightened to death, and said that it was fearful to\nsee the boat sink in the trough of the waves, and every moment they\nexpected that it would not appear again. On landing we were immediately\nbelow them, and the sight was too terrible. Were we hurt at all, and\nwould we come up into the monastery and spend the night in their warm\nrooms? But I thanked them for their kind offers and preferred to sleep\nas usual in the open air. If they could get us fuel and food we should\nbe much obliged.\n\nThey bowed and disappeared in their maze of staircases, and presently\ncame back with sacks full of dung, brushwood, and billets, and soon a\ngrand fire was burning on the terrace. They kindled it themselves, for\nour matches and tinder were quite useless. Then they went off to fetch\nsome eatables, for the contents of our packet of provisions were turned\ninto paste by the water.\n\nMeanwhile we made ourselves comfortable on the narrow strip of ground\nbelow the monastery. Two large caves opened into the terrace, their\nvaults black with smoke, for pilgrims and herdsmen spend the night in\nthem. They would have sheltered us from the wind, but they were so dirty\nthat we preferred to pitch our camp at the edge of the bank. It was wet\nwith rain, but we scraped out dry sand with our hands. The boat was\ntaken to pieces and emptied--it was half full of water--and then it was\nset up by the fire as a screen.\n\nWhen the fire had burned up and was glowing hot, we stripped ourselves\nstark naked, wrung out one garment after another, and crouched by the\nfire to dry our under-clothing and ourselves. Each had to look after\nhimself, for we were all in the same plight. I spread out my things as\nnear as possible to the fire and hung them over the oars and life-buoys\nto expose them to the wind and heat. Meanwhile I dried my woollen vest\nbit by bit, turned it inside out, held it to the fire on this side and\nthat, out and inside, and when it was quite dry put it on again. Then\ncame the turn of my unmentionables, then of my stockings, and so on.\nNothing could be done with the leather waistcoat and the fur coat; they\nwould not be dry by night, but what did it matter? It was at any rate\nbetter here than in the crystal halls of the lake king.\n\nIt is still broad daylight, but the storm rages, Gurla Mandatta and all\nthe country to the south has disappeared, for the gale is passing off in\nthat direction. There is fine close rain again. Falcons scream in the\nholes of the pebbly slopes--dangerous neighbours for the bluish-grey\npigeons cooing on the rocks.\n\nThe monks came down again with sweet and sour milk and _tsamba_, tea we\nhad ourselves, and the simple dinner tasted delicious. Then we sat a\ncouple of hours by the fire while the storm continued. I dried my diary\nand entered the notes which form the contents of this chapter. Between\nwhiles Shukkur Ali entertained me with stories of his adventures during\nhis travels in the service of Younghusband and Wellby. Now that he had\nescaped death by the skin of his teeth, the past returned more vividly\nto his memory, and when once he was started on his reminiscences he\ncould not be stopped, good old Shukkur Ali. I listened with one ear and\nwrote with the other--I had almost said--not to appear uninterested;\nand, after all, the chief thing to Shukkur Ali was that he could\nprattle.\n\nAt last the northern sky becomes clear, and all the mountains are white\nwith snow; before only Kailas and its next neighbours were distinguished\nby white caps, but now all is white. We are certainly past the early\ndays of August, but is it possible that autumn is already beginning? The\nsummer has been so short that we have hardly had time to get accustomed\nto it.\n\nAnother night falls on the earth. Impenetrable darkness surrounds us,\nand only in the zenith a few stars sparkle. The swell still roars\nagainst the strand, but Tso-mavang is gently falling asleep. Above us\ntowers the monastery on its steep wall like a fortress, and the monks\nhave retired to rest. The falcons are heard no more, and the pigeons\nhave sought their nests.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVII\n\nON THE ROOF OF THE GOSSUL MONASTERY\n\n\nIn the middle of the night I was awaked by a terrible row; a dog from\nthe monastery had crept under my men's half of the boat to see what it\ncould find, but chanced to fall into the hands of Shukkur Ali, and got a\ngood thrashing. The temperature fell to 37.4\u00b0. Rabsang came riding up at\nsunrise. The men had feared that we must have perished in the waves. He\nbrought provisions and a packet of letters from Thakur Jai Chand, the\nBritish commercial agent in Gartok, who was at the time in Gyanima,\nwhere the fair was being held. He wrote that Colonel Dunlop Smith had\ndirected him on June 27 to try to obtain news of me. Guffaru had\nperformed his task satisfactorily, and all my baggage was safely\ndeposited in Gartok, and my voluminous correspondence had been forwarded\nto Simla. From Mr. Sherring, who had made a journey to Manasarowar some\nyears previously, I received a very kind letter; he had also had the\nkindness to send me his interesting book on western Tibet, while his\nwife had added a whole packet of English and French newspapers,\nliterature the more acceptable that the extensive library presented to\nme by O'Connor had long been read through and dispersed to the four\nwinds of heaven. It was a singular coincidence that where I had suffered\nshipwreck I was so unexpectedly brought again into contact with the\nouter world.\n\nI was deeply moved by Rabsang's information that the monks in\nTugu-gompa, when they saw the storm burst over our frail boat, had burnt\nincense before the images of the lake-god and implored him to deliver\nus from the waves. They had done it of their own accord, and not at the\nrequest of any one. They said it would be deplorable if we were lost;\nthey had a heart, and were not so unfeeling as might be supposed. Few\nproofs of sympathy have touched me like this.\n\nAccompanied by Rabsang, I ascended in the early morning the winding path\nup to the monastery. At the turns and projections stand cubical\n_chhortens_ and votive cairns, and here and there a streamer flutters on\na mast. A _samkang_, a hermit's dwelling, hangs over a cavern produced\nby the fall of a huge mass from the slope of the pebble terrace eleven\nyears ago. I told the monks that they should not put too much confidence\nin the ground on which their monastery stands. They reckon millions of\nyears for the soul's wanderings, but their earthly dwellings are not\nbuilt for eternity. They answered calmly that the monastery had already\nstood for one hundred years, and that it would certainly stand as long\nas they were living there; for in general the monks are changed every\nthree years, and they come here from the monastery Shibeling in Purang,\nby which they are maintained. There are only three of them, but I saw\nalso four novices, seven, nine, ten, and eleven years old respectively,\nrunning about as actively as mice, and waiting on the monks. Their\nmother, a nun from Purang, also lives in the monastery. She had been\nmarried before she \"took the veil,\" and when her husband died she\ndedicated herself and all her children to the Church. I afterwards\nlearned that one of the \"boys\" was a girl; they were so like one another\nthat I could not distinguish between them. At first they were shy and\ntimid, but after I had given them a few silver coins they were soon at\nease with me. They appeared small and stunted for their age, but the\nabbot told me that they had mourned so much at the death of their father\nthat their growth was checked. Almost all the day they were bringing\nwater from the lake in clay jugs, which they carried in a basket\nsuspended by a strap round their forehead; they carry therefore with the\nmuscles of the head and neck, which are consequently so much developed\nthat they seem too large for the body. But they also receive instruction\nand take their first uncertain steps in the domain of wisdom; the eldest\nis said to have already acquired considerable knowledge.\n\nI went into the temple and studied it thoroughly. I remained there\ntwelve hours, drew, took measurements, made all kinds of inquiries, and\ntook notes. Every part is handsome, interesting, and well-kept. The\n_lhakang_ is like an old armoury, a museum of fine, rare articles, which\nshow great artistic skill, and have been designed, carved, modelled, and\npainted with unwearied patience and real taste. The hall, supported by\neight pillars, has two red divans; a statue of Buddha in gilded bronze,\nand a number of other idols; drums hanging in stands, lacquered tables\nwith the usual religious objects, and a large quantity of votive bowls\nin the brightest brass and of uncommon, tasteful forms. On both sides of\nthe pillars hang _tankas_ in four rows, which are as long as standards\nand triumphal banners, and are so arranged that they do not prevent the\nlight from playing on the faces of the gods. In a corner surely waves a\nSwedish flag? Ah, it is only a blue and yellow _tanka_, but it reminds\nme of the golden period of our fame and victories.\n\nThe _lhakang_ of Gossul is not built on the usual plan; the skylight is\nwanting, and instead there are three windows in the fa\u00e7ade facing the\nlake. But the gods do not see the lake, for the windows are pasted over\nwith paper on a trellis-work of laths. Why is the beautiful view\nconcealed and the daylight excluded? To enhance the mystical gloom\nwithin and excite the greater wonder and reverence in the minds of the\npilgrims who come in half-blinded from the daylight, and that they may\nnot see that the gold is only gilded brass, and that the marks of the\nbrush and the chisel may not be too profanely evident. The poorer a\nmonastery, the darker are its temple halls; the darkness hides their\npoverty and helps the monks to impose on the faithful.\n\n[Illustration: 256. YANGGO-GOMPA.]\n\n[Illustration: 257. INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE, TUGU.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nSomchung is the name of a small compartment no larger than a cabin. On\nits divan are cushions and pieces of cloth arranged in circles to\nform two nests, in which two monks sit during the night service. On the\naltar table before Sakya-muni's image stand forty bowls filled with\nwater, and on another table some peacock's feathers in a silver vase,\nwith which the gods are sprinkled with holy water to the cry \"Om a hum.\"\n\nIn former times robbers and footpads harboured here, and had their\nhiding-places in the caves below the monastery. From these they fell\nupon the pilgrims and killed many of them. Then the god of Tso-mavang\nappeared to Jimpa Ngurbu, a noble lama, and ordered him to build the\nmonastery, that it might be a sure stronghold for the protection of\npilgrims, and for the honour of the gods. Even now the country is not\nsafe. Last year two scoundrels, who had plundered the nomads, were taken\nand executed; and we ourselves saw ten Gurkhas, armed with guns, who\nrode past us in search of a robber band which had stolen their horses\nand sheep.\n\nThe monks said that the lake usually freezes in January; in stormy\nweather the ice breaks up, but when the weather is calm and the frost is\nsharp, the whole lake freezes over in a single day, and breaks up again\nin a single day when it is stormy. Unfortunately the statements made\nabout the level of the water and the discharge are contradictory and\nuntrustworthy. A lama, thirty-five years of age, now staying here, had\nlived on Tso-mavang as a child. He said that he well remembered the time\nwhen the water flowed out of the lake to Rakas-tal in such quantities\nthat a horseman could not cross the channel, which is called Ganga,\nwithout danger. But now this channel had ceased to carry water for nine\nyears. I was shown where the shore line ran last autumn, five fathoms\nfarther inland, so that the lake must then have been 22\u00bd inches higher.\nI was also shown a yellow block of stone, to which the water was said to\nhave reached twelve years ago, and this point lay 10-1/3 feet above the\npresent level of the lake. Such a rate of fall is improbable, though\nthis statement accorded fairly well with the information I had received\nat Tugu-gompa. The threshold of the one cave lay now 22.57 feet, and\nthat of the other 120.4 feet from the shore, 18.86 feet above the\nwater. I was told that when the monastery was built, one hundred years\nago, the lake had reached both these caves, and that only a small path\nwas left along the strand by which the caves could be approached.\nHowever, the dates of the Tibetans are exceedingly uncertain, and to\narrive at safe conclusions we must resort to the statements of European\ntravellers. I will make a few remarks on them later. When I asked one of\nthe monks what became of all the water poured into Tso-mavang by all the\nrivers and brooks, he replied:\n\n\"However much it rains, and though all the tributaries are full to\noverflowing, no change is noticeable in the lake, for as much water is\nevaporated as flows in. In our holy books it is written that if all the\ntributaries failed, the lake would not sink and disappear, for it is\neternal and is the abode of high gods. But now we see with our own eyes\nthat it is always falling, and we do not know what this means.\"\n\nThe following records may be useful to future explorers: the lower edge\nof the massive threshold of the main gateway in the fa\u00e7ade of\nGossul-gompa lay on August 8, 1907, exactly 122.7 feet above the surface\nof the lake, as I ascertained by the help of a reflecting level.\n\n[Illustration: 258. A DREAMER. LAMA IN YANGGO-GOMPA ON MANASAROWAR.\n\n Drawn by T. Macfarlane from a Sketch by the Author.]\n\nWe ascended to the roof of Gossul-gompa. It is flat, as usual, with a\nchimney, parapet, and streamers. No language on earth contains words\nforcible enough to describe the view from it over the lake. It was,\nindeed, much the same as we had seen from various points on the shore,\nbut the light and shade was so enchanting and the colouring so wonderful\nthat I was amazed, and felt my heart beat more strongly than usual as I\nstepped out of the dark temple halls on to the open platform. Tundup\nSonam said in his simple way that the lake with its encircling mountains\nseemed like the sky with its light clouds. I, too, was the victim of an\nillusion which almost made me catch at the parapet for support. I\nwondered whether it was a fit of giddiness. I took, to wit, the border\nof mountains on the eastern shore for a belt of light clouds, and the\nsurface of the sea for part of the sky. The day was perfectly calm and\nthe lake like a mirror, in which the sky was reflected; both looked\nexactly the same, and were of the same colour, and the mountains, which\nin consequence of the distance were all blended into a dark shadow, were\nlike a girdle of clouds. The air was not clear, everything was of a dull\nsubdued tone, there was no colour to speak of, but all was grey--sky,\nland, and water, with a tinge of blue, a fairy scene of glass, with\ndecorations of white gauze seen through a thin blue veil of incense\nrising from the altar of the mighty god of the lake.\n\nWhat has become of the earth, if all is sky and clouds? We are not\ntotally bewitched, for we are standing on the roof of the monastery\nleaning against the parapet. A dream-picture in the most ethereal\ntransitory tones floats before us. We seem to stand on a promontory\njutting out into endless space, which yawns around us and in front. And\nwhere is now the holy lake, which yesterday nearly robbed us of life,\nand on which the storm was so furious that I still seem to feel the\nground quaking under my feet? Has the Gossul monastery been changed by\nsome whim of the gods into an air-ship which is bearing us away to\nanother planet? Its streamers hang motionless on their poles, and\nnothing can be seen of the mountains, country, and ground.\n\n\"Oh yes, if you lean a little over the parapet,\" says a monk, smiling.\nTrue! Then the illusion vanishes, to my great chagrin. I should have\nliked to remain a while under its enchantment. Just below us runs the\nnarrow margin on the bank, with its black dam of clay and water-weeds,\nand its elongated lagoons. Through the crystal-clear water we see the\nyellowish-grey mud on the lake bottom, the dark fringe of weeds, and the\ndark depths beyond. It is like a huge aquarium covered with plate-glass.\nTwo flocks of geese are swimming on the water, producing diverging\nripples. All is so indescribably quiet; so ethereal, transparent, and\ntransitory, so subtile and sensitive, that I scarcely dare breathe.\nNever has a church service, a wedding march, a hymn of victory, or a\nfuneral made a more powerful impression on me.\n\nDid fate compel me to pass my life in a monastery in Tibet, I would\nwithout hesitation choose Gossul-gompa. There I would observe the\nfluctuations of the lake and the annual curves of the temperature. I\nwould sit up there like a watchman, gaze over the lake, and watch how\nits aspect changed every hour during the twelve months of the year. I\nwould listen to the howling of the autumn storms, and would notice on\ncalm November days how the belt of ice along the shore broadened from\nday to day, if only to melt again in the course of a day. The ring of\nice would creep on ever nearer to the middle of the lake, be destroyed\nagain and again by new gales, and then begin again to enchain the\nwaters. And at length, on a day in January, when the layers of water\nwere cooled through and through and no wind disturbed the air, I should\nsee the god of Tso-mavang stretch a ringing roof of glass over his green\npalace, and the winter storms bestrew it with white powder and drive the\nwhirling snow in dense clouds over the ice, with its smooth, dark-green\nsurface peeping out here and there. And on calm days the lake would lie\na white plain, lifeless and lonely under its white shroud, and I should\nsit by the bier of my friend longing for the spring. In vain would the\nfirst storms of spring contend with the solidity of the ice and its\nbrave resistance, but at last the sun would come to help the wind, and\nwould make the ice brittle and rotten. Leads and fissures would start up\nin all directions, and the next storm that swept over the ice would\novercome all resistance, flinging about the ice blocks and piling them\nup one on another, driving them to the shore, and sweeping breakers over\nthem so that they would be crushed, splintered, pulverized, and melted\nin the rolling surf. Then I should rejoice at the victory of the storm,\nthe release of Tso-mavang and its restoration to life, and would listen\nto the song of the waves and the screaming of the wild geese.\n\n[Illustration: 259. THE OLD NUN IN YANGGO-GOMPA.\n\n Sketch by the Author.]\n\nPerhaps an hour such as I spent at the parapet of Gossul comes only once\na year. The effect is the result of a certain temperature, a certain\npercentage of humidity, calm air, preceded by rain and a north-easterly\nstorm. How seldom are all these conditions fulfilled? At most once a\nyear, and just at this hour, this hour of all hours, I stood on the\nroof and saw the blue lake at rest after its play.\n\nWonderful, attractive, enchanting lake! Theme of story and legend,\nplayground of storms and changes of colour, apple of the eye of gods and\nmen, goal of weary, yearning pilgrims, holiest of the holiest of all the\nlakes of the world, art thou, Tso-mavang, lake of all lakes. Navel of\nold Asia, where four of the most famous rivers of the world, the\nBrahmaputra, the Indus, the Sutlej, and the Ganges, rise among gigantic\npeaks, surrounded by a world of mountains, among which is Kailas, the\nmost famous in the world; for it is sacred in the eyes of hundreds of\nmillions of Hindus, and is the centre of a wreath of monasteries where\nevery morning blasts of conches sound out from the roofs over the lake.\nAxle and hub of the wheel, which is an image of life, and round which\nthe pilgrims wander along the way of salvation towards the land of\nperfection. That is Manasarowar, the pearl of all the lakes of the\nworld. Hoary with age when the books of the Veda were written, its blue\nbillows have in the course of centuries seen innumerable troops of\nfaithful Hindus and Tibetans arrive at its banks, there to drink, bathe,\nand find rest for their souls. There are certainly more beautiful lakes\nin the world. Its western neighbour, for instance, Langak-tso, is more\npicturesque. But there is none which unites with natural beauty such an\ninfluence on the faith and souls of men. That is why the roar of its\nwaves is so attractive, and a sojourn on its shore so fascinating.\nStanding up on the convent roof, while silence reigns around, one\nfancies one hears innumerable wanderers approaching, and the echo of\ntheir stumbling feet on the holy path around the lake. And one casts a\nglance into the night of past centuries, which have left no trace of\ntheir aspirations and vain search after an imaginary blessedness. But\nTso-mavang remains the same as it was then, and its azure-blue eye sees\nnew generations treading in the footsteps of the old.\n\nAfter such an hour everything else seems commonplace. Not till the blush\nof evening flooded the lake with a purple tinge could I tear myself away\nand go down to my camp on the shore. Once more I turned to Tso-mavang\nand called out a loud prolonged \"Om a hum.\" Rabsang said nothing, but I\ncould see that he was wondering whether I had become the latest convert\nof the Lamaistic church, and with the more reason because I had insisted\non travelling round the lake in the orthodox direction--southwards by\nthe east bank and northwards by the west bank.\n\nThe tracks of 120 yaks were discernible in the sand, which had passed\nnorthwards in the morning laden with brick tea. An old Hindu, who was\nperforming the circuit of the lake in the same direction as the\nTibetans, begged to be allowed to camp beside us, because he was afraid\nof robbers; we regaled him with tea, bread, and tobacco, and he asked us\nto accept a handful of rice. It is singular that the Hindu pilgrims seem\nto hold the Lamaistic monasteries in veneration; at least I saw them bow\nbefore the Lamaistic gods in Tugu-gompa, and place a handful of rice in\nthe bowl which a monk held out to them.\n\nAfter a temperature of 43.9\u00b0 in the night the morning air seemed quite\nwarm. A fresh easterly breeze ruffled the surface of the lake, and the\nfoam-tipped waves shone in the sun, but the day was beautiful and I was\nfull of life, and eager to go out upon the lake. The old Hindu said that\nhe had resolved to postpone his pilgrimage and go with us in the boat,\nbut I assured him that we would take no unnecessary ballast. But he\nfollowed us on the bank as we rowed through the surf to Camp No. 213,\neasily recognizable by its old fire-place, and when we steered thence\nseawards straight towards Tugu-gompa, visible as a white speck in the\nsouth-east, he was so eager to go with us that he ran into the water and\ndid not turn back till it reached to his middle. He was certainly a\nlittle silly; he had talked nonsense all the evening, though no one had\nlistened to him.\n\n[Illustration: 260. The Holy Lake Manasarowar from Tugu-gompa, with\nKailas in the background.\n\n Water-colour Sketch by the Author.]\n\nThe new line of soundings was marked No. 4 on my map of the lake. Its\ngreatest depth was 249 feet. At the ninth sounding-station the red metal\ndisc of the current-meter became entangled in the sounding-line. It was\ntorn away from its screws and twisted like a boomerang in mad gyrations\ndown through the crystal-clear water to a depth of 207 feet, there to\nsleep in the mud of Tso-mavang till the day of judgment. Fortunately it\ncould easily be replaced.\n\nWhen we landed at the monastery, all our men, and the monks and the\npilgrims on the shore, were there to receive us. The first we caught\nsight of was the old crazy Hindu. His fellow-countrymen had taken it for\ngranted that we must have perished in the storm, and therefore were very\nastonished to see us come back alive. But as I was now here again, they\nthought that they might take advantage of it, and asked me to present\nthem one and all with new trousers, a request that I considered very\nimportunate.\n\nOn August 10 I sat in my tent door and painted Kailas in different\nlights (Illust. 260). Its white summit stood out cold and bare against a\nbright blue cloudless sky, and the lake was of a deep, dazzling\nultramarine. When a breeze swept over the surface it was in the distance\nlike clear green malachite. After sunset the sky was orange-coloured,\nand the lake, of just the same colour, reflected the outlines of the\nmountains in quivering serpentine lines. The evening before, the whole\nwestern horizon had glowed with bright red flames.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVIII\n\nOUR LAST DAYS ON TSO-MAVANG\n\n\nAt this time Robert had perfected himself more than I in the Tibetan\nlanguage, and he talked it almost fluently. Therefore, while my whole\ntime was taken up with other work, he was able to obtain information\nabout the country and people, and perform certain tasks I set him. On\nthe left, shorter wall of the vestibule of Tugu-gompa was an inscription\nfor the enlightenment of pilgrims, and this Robert now translated into\nHindustani and English. Freely rendered it runs as follows:\n\n Tso-mavang is the holiest place in the world. In its centre dwells a\n god in human form, who inhabits a tent composed of turquoise and all\n kinds of precious stones. In the midst of it grows a tree with a\n thousand branches, and every branch contains a thousand cells in which\n a thousand lamas live. The lake tree has a double crown, one rising\n like a sunshade and shading Kang-rinpoche, the other overshadowing the\n whole world. Each of the 1022 branches bears an image of a god, and\n all these images turn their faces towards Gossul-gompa, and in former\n times all the gods gathered together here. Once golden water was\n fetched from the lake, and with it the face of Hlobun Rinpoche in\n Chiu-gompa was gilded, and what was left was used to gild the temple\n roofs of Tashi-lunpo. In old times the water of the lake flowed over a\n pass named Pakchu-la to the Ganga-chimbo. Water flows into the lake\n from all sides, cold, warm, hot, and cool. Water passes from the lake\n to the Ganga-shei and comes back again. Vapour rises annually from the\n lake and hovers over it once in the year, and then sinks down into the\n centre, and the next year the process is repeated. If any one brings\n up clay from the middle of the lake, that clay is really gold. The\n lake is the property of the lake-god. The lake is the central point of\n the whole world. Sambu Tashi grew out of the lake tree. Sochim Pema\n Dabge is of very holy, clear, and pure water. The Gyagar Shilki\n _chhorten_ stands in the lake. The palace of the lake-god is in the\n lake. All the lamas there recite their prayers with one voice. All the\n gods assemble together in the lake and sit there among _chhortens_ of\n all kinds, embellished with gold and precious stones. The spirit king\n of the southern land resides here in a golden house, and is not angry\n when any one comes to wash and purify himself. If we pray to the\n spirit king of the southern land, we shall be very wealthy and\n fortunate. Four large rivers and four small flow out of the lake by\n underground channels. The four large ones are one warm, one cold, one\n hot, and one cool. (The Karnali, Brahmaputra, Indus, and Sutlej.) If\n any one washes in the lake he is cleansed from sin and all impurities.\n If any one washes once in the lake, the sins of his forefathers are\n forgiven, and their souls are relieved from purgatorial fires. Datping\n Ngacha came with 500 pilgrims from Kang-rinpoche to wash in the lake.\n Lo Mato Gyamo met him and begged him to come to Tso-mavang. Dachung\n Ngacha and the pilgrims came with heaps of flowers and strewed them in\n the lake. Dachung Ngacha went three times round the lake and then\n ascended into heaven.\n\nOf particular interest is the suggestion made here that the four large\nrivers stream out of Tso-mavang by subterranean passages. As regards the\nSutlej this belief is, in my opinion, quite correct. I was told that the\nfifth Tashi Lama, whose mausoleum we had seen in Tashi-lunpo, once made\nthe pilgrimage to Tso-mavang and went down to the shore at Tugu-gompa to\noffer a _kadakh_ to the lake-god. The _kadakh_ remained suspended in the\nair, that is, it was actually hanging on one of the branches of the holy\ntree, but as the tree is only visible to Rinpoches and genuine\nincarnations, the _kadakh_ seemed to ordinary mortals to hang alone in\nthe air.\n\nOn August 11 we bade a long farewell to the amiable monks of Tugu-gompa,\nand gave them liberal presents. They accompanied us down to the shore,\nwhen we put off on our voyage westwards. Into a large lagoon of the\nshore, brown and dirty owing to the numerous gulls and wild geese which\nhere wallow in the mud, a brook from Gurla Mandatta runs, and now\ndischarges 37.8 cubic feet of water in a second. All the way along runs\na rubbish heap, the continuation of the pebble terrace on which\nTugu-gompa stands. The lake bed consists sometimes of sand, sometimes\nof detritus--offshoots of the detritus cone of Gurla Mandatta. Large\ncollections of weeds form dark patches. Up above, at the mouths of two\nvalleys of Gurla, are seen foaming streams, and it is strange that they\ndo not debouch into the lake. But the explanation is easy. Twenty to\nfifty yards from the bank numerous small holes in the sand of the lake\nbed open and close like the valves of an artery, and the surface of the\nlake above them bubbles. These are springs. The streams disappear in the\ndetritus cone, and the water runs below over impermeable layers of\nglacial clay. At the edge of the cone the water comes up again under the\nsurface of the lake. I perceived, then, that I must gauge the rivers at\nthe points where they emerge from the mountain valleys, if I would\nascertain the exact amount of the tribute Tso-mavang receives.\n\nNear camp 218, quite close to the shore, a spring came to the surface,\nand where it welled up it had a temperature of 38.1\u00b0, and therefore\nbrought down the cold of the glaciers to the lake. As the melted water\nof the Gurla glaciers retains its low temperature on its subterranean\ncourse, it probably assists in keeping the water of the lake cool during\nthe summer. Whole shoals of fish sported at the surface of the water,\nand snapped at plumed gnats, which were gathered in thick clouds.\n\nOn August 12 I rode with Rabsang and a Tibetan up to the foot of Gurla\nMandatta. We crossed the great highway between Tugu-gompa and Purang. A\nwolf took to flight; occasionally a hare leapt up out of the steppe\ngrass, and locusts flew about noisily. We rode into the mouth of the\nNamreldi valley, a resort of robbers, and its crystal stream, between\nwalls of solid rock, carried 101 cubic feet of water, as compared to the\n37.8 cubic feet at the place where it enters the lake. The rest of the\nwater, therefore, pours into the lake under the detritus. A few miles\nfarther west we halted at the mouth of the Selung-urdu valley, which has\na glacier in its upper part. At half-past nine o'clock the bed was dry,\nbut at half-past one a river with rapids and waterfalls poured down a\nvolume of 63.9 cubic feet of exceedingly muddy water, which reached the\nlake in the subterranean springs. The view from this elevated spot is\nmagnificent. We have a bird's-eye view of Tso-mavang, and in the west\ngleams the bright blue Langak-tso. The survey we can here take of the\ncountry is very instructive. The denudation cones of Gurla Mandatta,\nconsisting of sand, rubbish, and boulders, extend northwards like\ninverted spoons; their extremities dip under the surface of the lake,\nand cause the fluctuating depths sounded on lines 1 and 2. From camp 218\nRobert executed a line of soundings at right angles to the bank down to\na depth of 190 feet.\n\nEvery day with its observations brought me nearer to the solution of the\nproblem I had proposed to myself. As we rode northwards on the 13th\nalong the western shore we dug wells at some places 10 yards from the\nbank. The ground consisted of alternate layers of sand and clay: on the\ntop, sand; then a layer of decaying vegetable remains; then a foot and a\nhalf of sand which rested on clay. A pit 2 feet deep slowly filled with\nwater up to the same level as the surface of the lake. The water\npermeates the sand and rests on the clay. If this layer of clay\nstretches, as seems likely, across the narrow isthmus to the shore of\nLangak-tso, it is evident that the water of Tso-mavang filters through\nthe beds of sand and pebbles to the western lake. I was already\nconvinced that even now when the old canal has ceased to act, an\nunderground connection must exist between the two lakes. But the fact\nthat the water of Tso-mavang is quite sweet is no proof that the lake\nhas an outlet, seeing that it is only a few years since the canal was\nsilted up.\n\nAgain we encamped below the hospitable monastery Gossul. On August 15 I\nrode with Rabsang and a Tibetan across the hilly isthmus between the two\nlakes in order to get a look at the country on this side also. We\nascended sharply to the highest point of the ridge, where there is a\nfine view over Langak-tso with its picturesque rocky shores and\nprojecting points and capes, its bays and islands, and its frame of\nsteep mountains. In form it is very different from its neighbour, which\nis round and has no islands. We stood at a height of 16,033 feet, and\ntherefore were 935 feet above the surface of Manasarowar. Then we rode\ndown a valley clothed with brushwood, which emerges on to the flat,\nirregularly curved shore belt. Here are old, very plainly marked, shore\nlines, the highest 67.9 feet above the level of the lake. When the\nLangak-tso stood so high it had an outlet to the Sutlej, and the old bed\nof this river may be seen leading off from the north-eastern corner of\nthe lake.\n\nA strong south wind blew, and rolled the waves to the shore, where I sat\na good hour, drawing and making observations. Then we rode again over\nthe isthmus, at its lowest (15,289 feet) and broadest place. A salt\nswamp, begirt by hills, lies on its eastern half, quite close to the\nshore of Tso-mavang, with its surface 7.7 feet above that of the lake.\nIn the sand and rubbish between the two are abundant streams of water,\npassing from the lake to the swamp. The swamp lies in a flat hollow of\nclay, in which the water evaporates, and the trifling quantities of salt\ncontained in the lake water accumulate. At this place, then, the water\nof the eastern lake is prevented from seeping through to the western.\n\nThe following day we sailed with a favourable wind to the north-western\ncorner of Tso-mavang, where Chiu-gompa stands on a pyramid of rock. This\nspot, camp No. 219, was to be our headquarters for several days. The\noutline of Tso-mavang is like that of a skull seen from the front, and\nwe had now to explore the very top. A day of rest was devoted to a\npreliminary investigation of the channel where several cold and hot\nsprings rise up; two of the latter had temperatures of 117\u00b0 and 122\u00b0\nrespectively, while in testing the third a thermometer graduated up to\n150\u00b0 did not suffice, and the tube burst. A spring of 117\u00b0 in a walled\nbasin is said to be used as a medical bath, but one must be a Tibetan to\nstew in water so hot. A small stone cabin beside it serves as a\ndressing-room. A little farther down the channel is spanned by a bridge\nconstructed of four beams resting on two stone piers; it is in\nextraordinarily good condition, and is another proof that the canal\ncontained water not so very long ago. On the piers of the bridge\nwatermarks are still conspicuous 18\u00bd inches above the present stagnant\npools, smelling of sulphur and full of slimy weeds, which are fed by\nsprings. Young wild-geese were swimming in one of them, and had great\ndifficulty in protecting themselves from the brown puppy.\n\nChiu-gompa, the fifth of the eight monasteries of the lake which I\nvisited, is small, and contains fifteen lamas who enter it for life,\nwhile the abbot is changed every three years. It owns some yaks, 500\ngoats, and 100 sheep, which are employed in transporting salt to Purang,\nwhere the monks barter it for barley. One monk, a youth twenty years of\nage, named Tsering Tundup, is one of the Tibetans whom I think of with\nparticularly kind and warm feeling. His mother also lived in the\nmonastery, and looked after the sheep and goats when they were driven in\nthe evening into the penfolds. He was unusually handsome, refined,\namiable and obliging, and showed me everything with full explanations.\nFrom his small bare cell he could dream and gaze at the holy lake in the\neast, and could see on the west Langak-tso, despised by the gods; but\nyet he was melancholy, and on that account we were sympathetic. He\nacknowledged openly that he was weary of the monotonous life in\nChiu-gompa; every day was like the last, and the monks had hard work to\nprocure a scanty subsistence, and must always be prepared for the\nattacks of robbers. It must be pleasanter to live as we did, and roam\nabout freely among the mountains. He asked me if he might come with us,\nand I replied that I would willingly take him to Ladak. Then his face\nbrightened, but he begged to be allowed to think over the matter until I\nreturned from my next trip on the lake.\n\nIt rained all night, and in the morning everything was wet--even the\nthings in my wind-beaten and torn tent, where little puddles had been\nformed. But Tsering came with the linen, so I was not so badly off. We\nhad a long voyage before us, to camp No. 212, the first place we had\nencamped at on the holy lake. The programme of the excursion also\nincluded visits to the three other monasteries, the gauging of the\nvolumes of water in the streams from the north, and the drawing of a\nmap of the northern shore. We therefore took provisions for four days,\nwhich Rabsang and Adul were to transport along the bank on horses'\nbacks. We were to meet them at the entrance to the valley Serolung, at\nSerolung-gompa. This last voyage was to complete my investigation of the\nlake, but precisely because it was the last it was looked forward to\nwith fear by my men. They thought that I had so long defied the god of\nthe lake that now my time was come, and that he would avenge himself and\nkeep me for ever.\n\nBut the morning was beautiful, and when at half-past five we rowed out\nover the smooth lake, the temperature was 48.6\u00b0. The cloud cap of Gurla\nextended down to the water, and nothing could be seen of the country to\nthe south. The Pundi mountain was covered with snow and had a wintry\nappearance. At the first sounding-station (66 feet) the tents were seen\nas white specks hovering above the lake. Chiu-gompa stands proudly on\nits rocky point, and is a landmark visible from all parts of the lake\nshore except from the west. At the second station the sounding was more\nthan 130 feet. Shukkur Ali and Tundup Sonam row like galley-slaves, for\nthey hope to finish this line, and then the work will be at an end.\nSometimes the boat passes through belts of foam and weed. At the fifth\nstation (161 feet) the tents can still be seen with the glass, but after\nthat they disappear. Gossul's memorable monastery can also be dimly\ndescried on its rock.\n\n\"Now we have traversed a third of the way,\" I said.\n\n\"Thank God!\" replied Shukkur Ali. \"I hope the weather will hold up\nto-day.\"\n\nA large fish floated on the water, belly up; fish washed ashore are used\nby the people as medicine. The depths remain the same; the lake bed is\nvery even. But at the thirteenth point we found 108 feet, and at the\nfourteenth 180 feet, which indicated a ridge in the lake bed or a cone\nof detritus from the foot of the northern mountains. At about an hour's\nsail from the eastern shore we saw Rabsang and Adul coming up, and they\nwaited for us at the rendezvous. They proposed we should pass the night\nin a stone cabin at the right side of the mouth of the Serolung valley,\nbut I refused, for pilgrims and tramps are wont to harbour there. Six\nmonks from the convent, old friends of ours, paid me a visit, and four\nhappy, laughing women, black and dirty, came rushing like a whirlwind\ndown the slopes with baskets of fuel on their backs. Puppy had followed\nRabsang, and had found at a monastery on the way an elegant little\ncavalier with a red collar and bells. With a feeling of satisfaction at\nhaving completed this last line of soundings, I went to sleep on the\nsandy shore under the light of the everlasting stars.\n\nNext day I rode with Rabsang 17 miles to the north, in order to measure\nthe volumes of water in the Pachen and Pachung valleys. We arranged to\nmeet the others on the northern shore, whither they were to row with the\nbaggage. Were we long away they were to light a beacon fire on a hill\nfor our guidance. We followed for a time the shore with its banks of\nmud, small projections, and lagoons, and then we rode through the\nSamo-tsangpo from the Tokchen valley, and passed on the left hand two\nsmall lakes in the midst of rich pasturage, where a number of kiangs\ngrazed, glared at us, pricked up their ears, and ran away at a slow\ngallop; then we crossed the _tasam_, or the great trunk-road, and rode\nup the sharply sculptured Pachen valley, with a foaming river carrying\n69.9 cubic feet of water. Then we rode westwards, up and down hills, and\nenjoyed a new view of the holy lake with Gurla Mandatta in the\nbackground. The Pachung river carried 83.3 cubic feet of water. When our\nwork was done we rode south-westwards. Wild asses were on the meadows;\nthey are nearly tame, for no one puts an end to life on the shores of\nthe holy lake. Thirty mares stood on a mound guarded by a stallion; the\nsun was sinking, and perhaps this is how these animals prepare for the\ndangers of the night. Now and again a mare left the group and made a\ncircuit about her sisters, but the stallion ran after her immediately\nand forced her to return to the others. This game was frequently\nrepeated, and it seemed to me that the mares were making sport of the\nstallion.\n\n\nWe ride over swampy meadows and small sandhills; nothing can be seen of\nthe lake; we should like to hear its waves roaring under the south-west\nbreeze, but new hills always crop up in front of us. At last we catch\nsight of the smoke of the camp-fire. Adul had caught a kiang foal four\nmonths old, which was ill and kept always turning round. The mother came\nto look after it in the night, but gave it up for lost, and it died soon\nafter.\n\nAugust 20 was spent in surveying a map of a part of the northern shore\nwhich is very slightly curved, and in a sounding excursion on the lake\nout to a depth of 154 feet. While the surface water had a temperature\n55.6\u00b0 everywhere, with an air temperature about constant, the\ntemperature at the bottom sank from 56.1\u00b0 to 46\u00b0 at the depth of 154\nfeet.\n\nWe gradually began to suffer want. The collops which Adul tried to pass\noff on me on the morning of the 21st were decidedly bad, and therefore\nlanded in Puppy's stomach. As Rabsang and I rode northwards to\nPundi-gompa, the temperature was 56\u00b0 and really too warm, so that a\nshower of rain was not unpleasant. Pundi lies on a rocky ledge in a\nravine; its abbot is eighty years old, and has eight monks under him.\nOne was a Chinaman from Pekin, who had lived forty years in the convent\nand had become a thorough Tibetan, though he had not forgotten his\nmother tongue. From there, too, there is a splendid view over the lake.\nAs we were about to ride down to camp No. 222 on the shore, a messenger\ncame from Robert with the news that the authorities in Parka had refused\nto provide us with transport animals or assist us in any way, for they\nhad never heard that we were permitted to spend a whole month on the\nlake. He also said that our Ladakis were much frightened by all kinds of\nstories of robbers which were current in the neighbourhood, so that\nevery one was anxious for my presence.\n\n[Illustration: 261. BOY ON THE UPPER TSANGPO.]\n\n[Illustration: 262. THE YOUNG PRIOR OF LANGBO-NAN.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nThe camp was quite close to the monastery Langbo-nan, at the mouth of\nthe Gyuma-chu. After we had measured this river and ascertained that it\ndischarged 73.8 cubic feet of water, we had tracked up all the waters\npouring into Manasarowar on the surface, and we found that the whole\nvolume was 1094.8 cubic feet in a second, or 94,590,000 cubic feet in\ntwenty-four hours, which would make a cube measuring nearly 456 feet\neach way. But how much water flows to the lake by underground passages\nwhich we could not measure? Probably a volume considerably in excess of\nthe surface water; for Manasarowar lies in a trough between huge\nmountains which are constantly feeding the subterranean springs. At any\nrate the surplus water, so far as it is not lost by evaporation,\nfiltrates through subterranean passages to the Langak-tso, which lies\nlower.\n\nOn the 22nd we again rowed straight out from the bank into the lake till\nwe reached a place where the depth was 135 feet, and then sailed back\nwith a favourable wind to the starting-point. It was the last time that\nI sank my lead in the holy water, and I was quite convinced that I\nshould never do it again, for I had now 138 soundings, evenly\ndistributed over the lake and affording ample material for the\nconstruction of an isobathic map. It was comical to hear Shukkur Ali\nwhen I remarked to him that this was our last voyage on Tso-mavang. He\nheld his hands before his face as if he were about to pray, and said\nsolemnly that in spite of all dangers \"we had had the good fortune to\nbring our work to a successful conclusion by the favour of Allah, the\nfavour of the Sahib, the favour of the papa and the mamma of the Sahib,\nand the favour of all his relations.\" I ventured to remark that he had\nforgotten the favour of the lake god, but he dismissed the suggestion\nwith a wave of the hand, and said he had no more faith in the god.\n\nAfterwards I rode with Rabsang up to the monastery Langbo-nan, while the\nothers went on to Chiu-gompa. I shall omit here a description of this\nconvent, where the most remarkable sight was the twelve-year-old abbot\nTsering, an intelligent, frank, and lively boy, with sharp bright eyes,\nwhite teeth, a fresh, healthy complexion, and an attractive appearance\n(Illust. 262). He sat on a divan before a lacquered table in his\nlibrary, called _tsemchung_, and showed a great interest in all my\nplans, glanced into my sketch-book, tried my field-glass, and asked me\nfor a couple of pencils. During the hour I spent in his cell we became\ngood friends, and when at length I bade him farewell we little thought\nthat we should meet again only a year later.\n\nAs we made the round of the monastery we came in the gallery of the\ncourt upon a poor fellow who lay ill and seemed to be suffering. I asked\nhim how he was, and he told me that on August 18, the day when Rabsang\nand Adul came to meet us, he was taking eleven mules and two horses\nladen with _tsamba_ and barley to Parka, the Gova of which was the owner\nof the caravan. Where the Pachung river enters the eastern lagoon he was\nattacked at eleven o'clock in the morning by twelve robbers, who rushed\ndown from the direction of the Pachung valley. They were all mounted,\nand armed with guns, swords, and spears, had two spare horses for\nprovisions, and wore masks on their faces. They dismounted in a moment,\nthrew a mantle over his head, tied his hands behind his back, and\ncleared him out, taking among other things 400 rupees, and then they\nrode off again to the Pachung valley, which Rabsang and I had hurriedly\nvisited the next day. He then summoned help by shouting, and in a very\npitiable condition found refuge in Langbo-nan. He showed us some deep\nstabs in his legs, his skin coat, and the saddle, which had suffered\nseverely when he made a desperate attempt to defend himself. This was\nthe incident which had so alarmed our Ladakis.\n\nThe way from here to Chiu-gompa is charming. Perpendicular, sometimes\noverhanging rocks of green and red schist fall to the shore, which here\nhas a shingly beach only 20 yards broad. Two gigantic boulders stand\nlike monuments on the shore, and on the rocky walls we see black caves\nand hermits' dwellings, and we often pass the usual three stones on\nwhich tea-kettles of pilgrims have boiled. Farther to the west the\nprojections form a series of recesses in lighter tones; at one of these\ncliffs a new and fascinating view is displayed. A water mark lying 5\u00bd\nfeet above the present level of the lake is very easily recognized. On\nthe rocky pinnacles eagles sit motionless as statues, watching for prey.\n\nChergip-gompa is built on a terrace in the broad mouth of a valley. It\nis a small, poor monastery, but it has its _lhakang_ and its vestibule\nwith a large bronze bell, in which the six holy characters are cast.\nWhen the bell is rung at morning and evening the unfathomable truth is\nborne on the waves of sound over the lake, which, with its blue surface\nand its background of the snowfields of Gurla Mandatta, forms a charming\nlandscape as seen from the court of the monastery. But its sound is\nheard by no one but Chergip's single monk. Poor man, what must be his\nfeelings in winter evenings when storms sweep the drifting snow over the\nice of Tso-mavang!\n\nI remained with him fully two hours, for he had much to tell. He had\ntravelled far, had been at Selipuk and the Nganglaring-tso, and offered\nto conduct me thence in twenty days to the Dangra-yum-tso; he had no\nsuspicion that I was roaming about in the forbidden land under a\npolitical ban. But he revived my desire to visit the great unknown\ncountry to the north of the holy river. I was full of thoughts, full of\nplans, and full of an insatiable _desiderium incogniti_ which never left\nme in peace, when at length I departed from the eighth and last\nmonastery of Tso-mavang as the evening spread its dark veil over the\nlake I had conquered.\n\nWe had still a long way to go to the camp. At the last mountain spur\nstands a _chhorten_, from which our fire was visible. Soon we sat again\namong our companions. Late at night two horsemen rode past our camp; the\nwatchmen called out \"Who's there?\" but they made no answer. Then Rabsang\nawoke and thoughtlessly sent a bullet after the unknown men, being\nconvinced that they were robbers. My men had reached such a pitch of\nnervousness that they saw robbers everywhere.\n\nThis was our last night on the shore of the Tso-rinpoche, the \"holy\nlake,\" and I listened sadly to the song of the surf dying away as the\nwind fell.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIX\n\nADVENTURES ON LANGAK-TSO\n\n\nI have not interrupted the description of my life on the revered lake\nwith notices of our political troubles. Suffice it to say that we\nsucceeded in staying there a whole month. Mounted and other messengers\noften came to make complaints, and then my men simply replied: \"The\nSahib is out on the lake, catch him if you can; he is a friend of the\nlake god, and can stay as long as he likes among the branches of the\nholy tree.\" And when I came back again they had gone off. In consequence\nof the boat trips they could not control my movements, but when we\nencamped by Chiu-gompa they became more energetic. During my absence\ncame messenger after messenger with orders that I must at once betake\nmyself to Parka and continue my journey thence to Ladak. On August 23 I\nsent Robert and Rabsang to Parka to make terms with the authorities, but\nthey would not under any circumstances allow me to visit Langak-tso, my\nnext stage. If I liked to stay a month or a year at Chiu-gompa it was\nnothing to them, for the monastery was not in their district, but the\nwestern lake was in their jurisdiction. They advised that I should come\nas soon as possible to Parka for my own sake, and would send in the\nmorning fifteen yaks to carry my luggage.\n\n[Illustration: 263. TEMPLE VESSELS IN CHIU-GOMPA.]\n\n[Illustration: 264. TWO CHILDREN IN SHIGATSE.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nBut I wished to see Langak-tso at any cost. So when the fifteen yaks\narrived next morning, I quickly made up my mind to send Tsering,\nRabsang, and four men with the baggage to Parka, while Robert and the\nother six men would go with me to Langak-tso. Our own six horses and\nthe last mule from Poonch could easily carry the boat and our bit of\nluggage. The yaks were laden and my men disappeared behind the hills. My\nown small caravan had orders to camp on the shore of Langak-tso where\nthe old channel enters. I went with Robert and two men on foot and\nexecuted a series of exact levellings over the isthmus separating the\ntwo lakes. At the same time I drew a map of the course of the channel.\nThe measuring tape was nailed fast to an oar which Robert carried; the\ntheodolite I carried myself. The distance between the pole and the\ninstrument amounted to 55 yards, and was measured with tapes by our two\nassistants. The pole was placed on an iron dish that it might not sink\ninto the soft ground.\n\nThe lakes were visited in 1812 by Moorcroft, who found no connecting\nchannel. In October 1846 Henry Strachey found there an arm of the lake\n100 feet broad and 3 feet deep. Landor declared that any connection was\ninconceivable, for, according to him, the isthmus was 300 feet high at\nits lowest part. Ryder found in the late autumn of 1904 no water running\nout of Manasarowar, but he heard from the natives that a little water\npassed through the channel during the rainy season. Sherring also saw no\nrunning water, but he thought it probable that the lake overflowed after\nrainy summers. As for me, I followed the bed of the channel from one\nlake to the other and found that in the year 1907 no water flowed from\nthe eastern into the western lake, and in 1908 the condition was the\nsame, though both my visits occurred in the rainy season. There must be\nvery heavy falls of rain before Manasarowar can overflow, for the\nhighest point of the channel bed lies more than 6\u00bd feet above the level\nof the eastern lake.\n\nThe circumstance that different travellers in different years have given\ndifferent accounts is, however, very easily explained. All depends on\nthe precipitation: if it is abundant, the surface of Manasarowar rises;\nif it is very abundant its water drains off to the Langak-tso\n(Rakas-tal). If the summer is dry, as in the year 1907, the Langak-tso\nreceives no water through the channel, but certainly by subterranean\npassages. On the whole, both these lakes are falling like the other\nlakes of Tibet, and the time is approaching when the subterranean outlet\nwill be cut off and both lakes will be salt.\n\nAs we deliberately measured the channel and came to its highest point\nfrom which its bed dips towards the west, I threw a farewell glance at\nTso-mavang, and experienced a feeling of bereavement at the thought that\nI must now leave its shores, and in all probability for ever. For I had\nknown this gem of lakes in the light of the morning red and in the\npurple of sunset, in storms, in howling hurricanes when the waves rose\nmountain high, in fresh southerly breezes when the waves sparkled like\nemeralds, in full sunshine when the lake was smooth as a mirror, in the\nsilver beams of the moon when the mountains stood out like white\nspectres after the dull yellow light of evening was extinguished, and in\npeaceful nights when the stars twinkled as clearly on the smooth surface\nof the lake as above in the vault of heaven. I had passed a memorable\nmonth of my life on this lake, and had made friends with the waves and\nbecome intimately acquainted with its depths. To this day I can hear the\nmelodious splash of the raging surf, and still Tso-mavang lingers in my\nmemory like a fairy tale, a legend, a song.\n\nWe went on westwards along narrow creeks and pools of stagnant water,\nbut when the evening had become so dusky that I could no longer read the\nfigures on the measuring pole, we gave up work, marked the last fixed\npoint, and made for the camp, which we reached in complete darkness.\n\nIn the morning the work was continued. We had had a minimum of 22.6\u00b0 in\nthe night, and a violent south-west storm rendered it difficult to read\nthe instruments. The hundred-and-fourth point was fixed at length at the\nedge of the water of Langak-tso. I have no space here to analyse the\nresults. The channel runs west-north-west, and the line measured is\n10,243 yards long, or twice as long as represented on the most recent\nmaps. The surface of Langak-tso lay 44 feet below that of Tso-mavang,\nwhich agrees very well with the difference of height on Ryder's map,\nnamely 50 feet. There is no water beyond the ninety-fourth fixed point\nin the bed, The Tibetans related a legend concerning the origin of the\nchannel. Two large fishes in Tso-mavang were deadly enemies and chased\neach other. One was beaten, and in order to escape he darted right\nthrough the isthmus, and the windings of the channel bed show the course\nof the flying fish.\n\nThe morning of August 26 was dull, damp, and cold. Heavy clouds floated\nover the earth, heralds of the monsoon rains, and Langak-tso looked\nanything but inviting for a sail. But we had the whole day before us,\nand any moment horsemen might come from Parka, take us by the neck and\nlead us back, whether we liked it or not, to the path of duty.\nLangak-tso has a very irregular outline. Its chief basin in the south is\nbegirt by rocks, in the north there is a smaller expansion, and between\nthe two runs a contracted channel. All we could venture to do was to row\nover the small basin westwards and then to the south-east, to a place on\nthe eastern shore whither our camp could be moved. It could be done in a\nfew hours, so we took nothing but the mast and sail.\n\nTundup Sonam and Ishe were my boatmen, and we set out at half-past five\no'clock. We were at first in the lee of a promontory, but when we had\npassed it the whole lake came down upon us with rolling, foaming\nbillows, showers of spray, and threatening surge. The waves were crowded\ntogether in the narrows to leeward, and assumed curious irregular forms.\nAmong them tossed masses of water-weed; the water was bright green and\nas clear and sweet as that of Tso-mavang. We are a little beyond the\npromontory; would it not be better to turn back? No; never turn back,\nnever give in; still forwards! We were wet, but we kept our equilibrium\nand parried the cunning assaults of the rolling waves. \"Row hard and we\nshall soon get into the shelter of the great point on the western\nshore.\" I even managed to take soundings, and found that the greatest\ndepth was 54\u00bd feet; the lake bottom was almost level. We had fought\nwith the waves for four hours before we landed on the north side of the\npromontory, where we were sheltered from the wind.\n\nHere we draw the boat to land and reconnoitre. The cape runs\nnorth-eastwards, and is covered with driftsand which is in constant\nmotion. On the shore plain to the south-west yellow sandspouts move\nabout, whirling like corkscrews in the direction of the wind, and our\npromontory receives its share of this load of sand. On the north the\ndune is very steep; from time to time fresh sand falls down the slope\nand slips into the lake, where the waves sweep it away. From the sharp\nridge of the dune the driftsand is blown like a dense plume to the lake,\nand the water is tinged with yellow for quite 200 yards in the direction\nof the wind by myriads of grains of sand, which fall to the bottom and\nbuild up a foundation under water on which the promontory can extend out\ninto the lake. The wind has been strong, and now we have a storm.\nPatience! We cannot go back. The driftsand now floats so thickly over\nthe lake that the eastern and northern shores are invisible; we might be\nsitting on a dune in the heart of the Takla-makan desert.\n\nWe slipped down to the sheltered side of the dune, but here, out of the\nwind, it was still worse. We were enveloped in clouds of sand which\npenetrated everywhere, into our eyes, ears, and noses, and irritated the\nskin where it came into contact with the body. The moaning howl of the\nstorm was heard above and around us. My oarsmen slept or strolled about,\nbut their footprints were at once obliterated by the wind. I played with\nthe sand like a child--let it roll down the lee-side, built a small\npeninsula, which was immediately destroyed by the waves, and a harbour\nmole, which the sea beat over and broke up--and watched how new layers\nand clumps of dead seaweed appeared on the sand slope, and how the dry\nsand formed falls and cascades as it rolled down. But the storm did not\nabate.\n\n[Illustration: 265. KAILAS BEHIND NYANDI-GOMPA.]\n\n[Illustration: 266. MY PACK-SHEEP.]\n\nWe lay waiting there for four hours. On the eastern shore our men had\nmoved the camp a little farther south. We saw the tents quite plainly.\nShould we venture to creep along the shore southwards so as to reach\na point opposite the camp? Out beyond the promontory the dark-green lake\nran uncomfortably high, but we were a match for the waves--the men had\nonly to put their weight on to the oars. So we crept along the shore,\nwhere we got some shelter, but we had to be careful that we were not\ncarried out into the heavy seas. After rowing round two points we landed\non the lee-side of a third, where the boat was drawn ashore again. Heavy\nseas with thundering, towering waves dashed against the southern side of\nthe point, so that we could go no farther, for no pilot would encounter\nsuch billows in a canvas boat. I stood on the top of the promontory and\nenjoyed the fine spectacle. Robert's tent shone brightly in the setting\nsun. We saw the men, the horses grazing on the bank, and the smoke of\nthe camp-fire beaten down by the storm. The crossing would barely take\nan hour, but between us and them yawned the dark-green abyss of\ntyrannical, all-conquering waves.\n\nThe sun sets and we still sit and wait, confused by the rush of the\nspirits of the air and water. This time they have played us a pretty\ntrick, and we have been caught. To the north rises Kang-rinpoche, lofty\nand bright as a royal crown. Its summit is like a _chhorten_ on the\ngrave of a Grand Lama. Snow and ice with vertical and slightly inclined\nfissures and ledges form a network like the white web of a gigantic\nspider on the black cliffs.\n\nAnd the day, a long day of waiting, neared its inevitable close. Shadows\nlengthened out over the foaming waves, the sun set, and the Pundi\nmountain, our old friend of Tso-mavang, glowed like fire in the sunset.\nClouds of a deep blood-red colour, with edges of orange, and tinted\nabove with reddest gold, hovered over its summit. It was as though the\nearth had opened and volcanic forces had burst forth. The hours passed\nby, the glow died out, the outlines of Pundi became indistinct and were\nat length swallowed up in the darkness. We were in the dark while the\ncamp-fire blazed on the eastern shore. Our hopes were now centred on the\nnight and the moon. The storm had raged thrice twenty-four hours, and it\nmust end some time; but it was just as strong. And as it was useless to\nwait, and I could not appease my gnawing hunger with a piece of bread\nand a cup of tea, I wrapped myself in the sail, burrowed into the sand,\nand fell into a sound sleep.\n\nThe rain pelting down on the sail woke me twice, and about four o'clock\nin the morning the cold thoroughly roused me. A dreary, grey, rainy\noutlook. But Ishe proposed that we should try to get over, for the storm\nhad slightly abated in consequence of the rain. We first made sure that\nthe tackle was in good order, and then stepped into the boat and rowed\nout along the sheltered side of the promontory. But scarcely had the\nnose of the boat passed beyond the point when it received a shock that\nmade all its joints crack. \"Row, row as hard as you can,\" I yelled\nthrough the howling storm; \"we shall get over before the boat is full.\nIt is better to be wet than suck our thumbs for twenty-four hours more.\"\nTo the south, 52\u00b0 E., the tent canvas shone white in the morning grey.\nWe strayed far out of our course, but cut the waves cleanly, and steered\ntowards the surf. We just managed to get over. We were received on the\nother side by our men, who helped us to draw the boat ashore and had\nfire and breakfast ready for us.\n\nNamgyal had returned from Parka and brought news that the Gova\nthreatened to drive away my men in order to force me to leave\nLangak-tso. Bluff, however, has no effect on me. A more serious matter\nwas that Puppy had not been seen for forty-eight hours, and that Shukkur\nAli, who had gone the morning before to Chiu-gompa in search of her, had\nnot been heard of since. Puppy at length found her way into camp\nherself, and then it was Shukkur Ali who was missing.\n\nOn the 28th the storm continued. We afterwards heard from Tibetans that\nstormy weather frequently prevails on Langak-tso, and the lake is\nagitated, when Tso-mavang is smooth and calm. Tundup Sonam concluded\nthat Tso-mavang was a pet of the gods, while demons and devils ruled\nover Langak-tso. We had heard a tale in Gossul-gompa that the preceding\nwinter five Tibetans, armed with swords and guns, had crossed the ice\nto reach Parka by a shorter way, but in the middle of the lake the ice\nhad given way, and all five were dragged down by the weight of their\nweapons to the bottom.\n\nI wished for fine weather that I might be able to cross over the lake to\nthe islands. As, however, we were obliged to give up all thoughts of a\nvoyage, I determined to pass round the lake and at any rate draw an\noutline map of it. We commenced, then, with the eastern shore, which\nmakes a regular curve towards the east. The white mule from Poonch\ncarried the boat. Some Ovis Ammons were seen on the rocks, which Tundup\nSonam stalked unsuccessfully. Shukkur Ali turned up again as cool as a\ncucumber, having searched in vain for Puppy, which was snoring in my\ntent in most excellent condition.\n\nAugust 29. We go to sleep amidst the roaring of the waves and the\nhowling of the storm, and awake again to the same uproar. It is always\nin our ears as we ride along the shore. We might be at the foot of a\nwaterfall. Now we follow the south shore westwards. Here the cliffs are\nalmost everywhere precipitous, and the rocks are porphyry, granite, and\nschist; the shore strip is extremely narrow and steep, and is divided\ninto sharply marked terraces. It descends right down to great depths,\nand shallow, gradually sloping places are not to be found. A human skull\nlay in a bay bobbing up and down in the waves, and not far off were\nother parts of a skeleton. Was it one of the men who had been drowned in\nthe winter? At this discovery my men conceived a still greater aversion\nto Langak-tso, which even took human life. I perceived that they were\nwondering what further foolhardiness I might indulge in.\n\nA sharp-pointed peninsula running north-westwards delayed us. On the bay\nbeyond a caravan was camping, and we were glad to meet Tibetans again\nwhen all others had withdrawn from us; and they were glad to meet a\nEuropean who had been at the Luma-ring-tso, their home. But they could\nnot understand why we passed round all projections and went right round\nall the bays, instead of following the direct road running a little\nfarther to the south. One of them held out his hands towards me with\nthe fingers spread out, and said that the south shore of the lake had as\nmany indentations. When I told him that I wished to draw a map of the\nlake, he said that it was of no consequence what the shore was like, as\nonly egg-gatherers came there.\n\nWhen we had passed two projecting points we encamped at the extremity of\nthe cape which lies in a line with the southernmost island. It was\nstormy, but here we found shelter under a cliff with a streamer pole on\nthe top. Stone walls, rags, and eggshells were evidence of the visits of\nmen. On the east and west of the cape were open bays with heavy seas,\nand to the north, 19\u00b0 E., we saw the southern point of the island--a\ndark precipitous rock, rising like a huge roll of bread from the waves.\nWe had already heard of this island, Lache-to, on which the wild-geese\nlay their eggs in May, and are robbed of them by men from Parka who come\nover the ice. I could not therefore omit to visit it. The island lay\nquite near. We would return immediately, and Adul might begin to roast\nthe wild-goose which Tundup had shot on the march. We wanted no\nprovisions, but Robert advised Ishe to take a bag of _tsamba_ with him,\nlest he should have to wait too long for his dinner.\n\n[Illustration: 267. PART OF KAILAS.\n\n Sketch by the Author.]\n\nThese two men took the oars when we put off. The shelter of the cape was\ndeceptive. Two minutes from the bank I tried to take a sounding, but the\nline made a great curve before it reached the bottom, for the storm\ndrove the boat northwards. Then we fell upon another device: the boatmen\nhad only to hold their oars in the air and let the wind carry the boat\nalong. But a little farther out we could not sail so easily, for the\nwave system of the eastern open part of the lake came into collision\nwith that from the west. Here the waves rose into hillocks and pyramids,\nand had to be negotiated with the oars. We rapidly drew near to the\nisland, and its rocks became higher and looked threateningly dark and\ndangerous. When we were close to the southern point I perceived that it\nwas impossible to land there. The bank of rubbish and blocks was very\nsteep, and we and the boat would have been dashed in pieces in the\nfoaming breakers. The situation was critical. Robert wished to land on\nthe lee-side of the northern point, but that would have been risky, for\nthe storm swept unchecked along the sides of the island, and if we did\nnot get under the land at the right moment we should be driven out into\nthe open lake at a distance of two days' voyage from the northern shore.\nWe rocked up and down on soft green crystal. I steered close to the\neastern bank, where the waves were just as high. Here we had no choice.\nI turned the bow towards the land, and the men rowed for all they were\nworth. A nasty billow threw us ashore. Robert jumped out, slipped, and\ngot a ducking. Ishe hurried up to help him. Three billows broke over me\nbefore I got to land. We were all three drenched, but we were glad to\nhave firm ground under our feet, and to have reached the island safely\nin spite of the treacherous storm which might have driven us past this\nopen roadstead.\n\nThen Robert and I went round the island while Ishe collected fuel.\nThough we could only walk slowly over the detritus, we took but\ntwenty-five minutes to go round the island and ascertain its form by\ncompass bearings. It is longish, runs from north to south, and consists\nof a single rock falling on all sides steeply to the water. During our\nwalk the wind dried us. Then I drew a panorama of Gurla Mandatta, and\nafter that the spot of earth to which fate had led us prisoners was\nsubjected to a closer investigation. At the north-eastern foot of the\nelevation is a rather flat pebbly plateau. Here the wild-geese breed in\nspring, and here lay still several thousand eggs, in twos, threes, or\nfours, in a nest of stones and sand.\n\nThat was a discovery. Ishe had a bag of _tsamba_, but that was all.\nThere was every probability that we should have to stay the night here,\nand now we had a quite unexpected store of provisions to last for\nmonths. And some time this persistent wind must cease. We played at\nRobinson Crusoe, and found our situation very advantageous. But the\negg-collecting was the most interesting. The eggs were pretty and\nappetizing as they lay half embedded in the sand, and I pictured to\nmyself the happy cackling that must go on in the spring when the goose\nmothers sit with expectant hearts on the hard nests, and the sun floods\nGurla Mandatta with a sea of light.\n\nWe broke two. They were rotten. We tried others which lay in the shade\nand deeper in the sand. They gave out a horrible stench when the shell\nbroke with a crack on a stone. But of about 200 eggs we broke, we found\neight which were edible, and we did not want more. We helped Ishe to\ncollect dry plants lying on the slopes, and at sunset we had a huge heap\nwhich we had piled within a small ring fence. In the middle the fire was\nlighted, and we sat leaning against the wall which sheltered us from the\nwind. We were warm and comfortable, and our satisfaction reached its\nheight when Ishe's store of _tsamba_ was divided into three equal\nportions, and was eaten out of a wooden bowl with the hand in place of a\nspoon. The greatest inconvenience was that we had no other vessel but\nIshe's small wooden bowl, and therefore whenever one of us wanted a\ndrink he had to tramp down to the shore.\n\nThe storm still howled over the rock and through the holes and crannies\nof the wall. Then the thought shot through my mind: \"Is the boat moored\nsecurely? If it should be carried away! Then we are lost. Ah, but it may\nbe cast ashore on the northern bank, and our men may fetch it and come\nacross to the island. No, it will be filled with water, and be sunk by\nthe weight of the zinc plates of the centre-boards. But then we can\nmount in the morning to the southern point and make our people\nunderstand by signs that we want provisions. We have drifted to the\nisland in eighteen minutes. They can make a raft with the tent poles and\nstays, load it with provisions, and let it drift with the wind to the\nisland. And we may find more fresh eggs.\"\n\nSuch were the thoughts that Robert and I exchanged while Ishe was\nfeeling about in total darkness at the landing-place. \"What if we have\nto stay here till the lake freezes over, four months hence?\" I said. But\nat this moment we heard Ishe's steps in the sand, and he calmed us with\nthe assurance that both the boat and the oars were safe.\n\nThen we talked together again and kept up the fire. The storm had\nabated, but sudden gusts came down from all quarters. We inspected the\nwater, and found that we could make for the mainland without danger. But\nfirst we took all the remaining fuel and piled it up into a blazing\nbonfire, which shone like a huge beacon over the lake. If any Tibetan\nsaw it, he must have thought that an enchanted fire was burning on the\ndesolate island.\n\nThe moon was high when we put off and the lake was still rough. But soon\nthe black cape where our camp stood was seen on the southern shore\nagainst the dim background of mountains. In the middle of the sound the\ndepth was 113 feet. We shouted with all our might, and were soon\nanswered by a fire on the point, to which our people had come down. And\nthe roasted wild-goose, which had waited so long for us, and a cup of\nhot tea tasted delicious in the early hours of morn. And still more\ndelightful was it to creep into bed after our short visit to the goose\nisland, which raised its dark, mysterious, dolphin-like ridge in the\nmoonlight. Never again would my foot tread its peaceful strand.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER L\n\nTHE SOURCE OF THE SUTLEJ\n\n\nWe had scarcely dressed in the morning before the storm raged again.\nGalsan and a gova from Parka overtook us here. The former brought\nprovisions, the latter had strict orders from his chief, Parka Tasam, to\ntell me that if I did not at once betake myself to Parka, he would send\noff all my baggage to Langak-tso, and force me to move on to Purang. But\nthe gova himself was a jovial old fellow, and he received my answer that\nif Parka Tasam ventured to meddle with my boxes, he should be\nimmediately deposed. If he kept quiet a couple of days, I would come to\nParka, and the rather that I found it impossible to navigate the lake at\nthis season of the year.\n\nThen we marched on westwards, in and out of the bays and round all the\nprojections produced by a mountain elevation north of Gurla, which\nprolongs its ramifications to the lake. The constantly changing views,\nas we wind in and out and wander between land and water, are\nindescribably beautiful and charming. The two large islands lying far\nout in the lake we see wherever we may be. One is named Dopserma; other\nwater-birds breed there, but no geese. In winter yaks and sheep are\ndriven over the ice to the island, where there is good pasturage. When\ncattle disease rages in the country the animals on Dopserma do not\nsuffer.\n\nWe passed round the sharp-pointed westernmost bay in a furious storm and\nblinding clouds of sand, and encamped on the shore again. The same\nagreeable weather continued also on the last day of August as we\ntravelled north-eastwards and saw the Langak-tso in a new and beautiful\naspect. The air was now clear, Kang-rinpoche and Gurla Mandatta were\nunclouded, and stood as sentinels above the lakes. We passed the point\nwhere Tundup Sonam, Ishe, and I had waited so long, and by the sand-dune\nwhere we had lain four hours.\n\nAt the north-western bay we cross the old bed of the Sutlej, consisting\nof treacherous, quaking bog or dry, hard clay; it is broad, has no\nterraces, and has been much degraded and smoothed down by deflation and\ndriftsand in later times. Two springs rise up in the middle, and flow in\nthe direction of the lake. Westwards the bed seems quite level, but\nactually it rises slowly and evenly to a flat culmination, on the other\nside of which it dips down towards the Indus.\n\nNow it had become dark, and we rode hour after hour among low hills and\ndunes and over meadows and water channels. I thought we had lost our\nway, when the bells of grazing cattle were heard, a fire appeared, and\nRabsang came to meet us with a lantern in order to lead us to the\nvillage Parka, where my tent was set up in a courtyard.\n\nDuring the much-needed day of rest we allowed ourselves in Parka, I\nnegotiated now and then with the govas of the neighbourhood. They asked\nme to set off definitely for the west next day, and I promised to do so,\nbut on the condition that I might stay three days in Khaleb, half a\nday's journey to the west. They consented without inquiring into my\nfurther intentions. I wished, be it known, to pass round the holy\nmountain by the pilgrim road, but saw that the authorities would never\ngrant their permission. It could be done only by stratagem.\n\nHere I received a second very kind letter from Mr. Cassels, who happened\nto be in Gyanima on official business. Unfortunately the force of\ncircumstances prevented us meeting. He gave me a pleasant surprise with\nthree packets of tea, which were the more welcome as I had latterly had\nto put up with brick-tea.\n\nHere also the truth of the report that had so long followed us, that six\nChinese and Tibetan officials from Lhasa had been sent to bring me to\nreason, was at length made clear. The report was certainly true, but\nwhen the gentlemen on reaching Saka-dzong heard that I had marched on\nwestwards some time before, they simply turned back again.\n\nI obtained all kinds of information about the two lakes and their\nperiodical outlets, from Tibetans who had long lived in the country.\nFour years before some water had flowed from Tso-mavang to Langak-tso,\nwhich confirms Ryder's statement. Twelve years ago the outflow had been\nso abundant that the channel could not be passed except by the bridge.\nThe channel is sometimes called Ngangga, sometimes Ganga. The water of\nLangak-tso is said to drain off underground, and to appear again at a\nplace in the old bed called Langchen-kamba, and this water is said to be\nthe true source of the Sutlej, and to find its way to the large streams\nwhich form this river, called in Tibetan Langchen-kamba. Twelve years\nand forty-eight years ago the spring in the old bed is said to have\nemitted much more water than now. Sherring collected similar data in\n1905.\n\nLangak-tso is said to have been so poisonous in former times that any\none who drank of its water died, but since the holy fish broke through\nthe isthmus and passed into the lake, the water has been sweet.\nLangak-tso freezes in the beginning of December, half a month sooner\nthan its eastern neighbour, and the freezing proceeds slowly and in\npatches, whereas Tso-mavang freezes over in an hour. Langak-tso also\nbreaks up half a month before Tso-mavang. Both have ice 3 feet thick. In\nwinter the surface of Tso-mavang falls 20 inches beneath the ice, which\nconsequently is cracked and fissured, and dips from the shore; but\nLangak-tso sinks only one or two thirds of an inch. This shows that it\nreceives water constantly from the eastern lake, but only parts with a\ntrifling quantity in winter.\n\nWith regard to the goose island, I was told that three men are\ncommissioned by the Devashung to settle on the island as soon as the\nwild-geese arrive, to protect them from wolves and foxes. They receive 8\nrupees, a sheep, and a lump of butter as wages. At this time, in May,\nthe ice is still two feet thick, but the egg-gatherers must take care\nthat they are not cut off from the mainland by a storm. Some years ago\nit happened that two watchmen were isolated on the island in this way.\nThey lived there eight months, subsisting on eggs and green food, and\nreturned over the ice next winter as soon as the lake was frozen over.\nBut one of them was so enfeebled that he died on reaching Parka.\n\nAfter a lively feast held by the Ladakis in the evening, we rode on\nSeptember 2 north-westwards, accompanied by an old grey-headed gova, who\nhad become a particular friend of mine. The weather was fine, but we now\nfelt biting cold in the morning, much as at home on the islets off the\ncoast when the yellow leaves have fallen and a thin sheet of ice has\nspread over the inlets. All Parka was on foot to witness our departure.\nWith us set out a high lama whom I had known in Leh. His retinue looked\nwell in their yellow dresses against the grey and green ground. He had\nbeen in Shigatse, and had lately made the circuit of the holy mountain.\nDuring the march we waded through the rivers Dam-chu, Sung-chu, La-chu,\nand Khaleb, which together carried about 350 cubic feet of water per\nsecond to Langak-tso.\n\nThe nearer we came to the holy mountain, the less imposing it appeared;\nit was finest from Langak-tso. In form it resembles a tetrahedron set on\na prism. From the middle of its white top a belt of ice falls\nprecipitously down, and below it stands a stalagmite of ice, on to which\na thick stream of water pours from above. The stream splits up into\nglittering drops of spray and thin sheets of water--a grand spectacle,\nwhich one could watch with pleasure for hours.\n\nOur camp on the Khaleb moor had the advantage of being far from the\nhaunts of men--a very necessary condition, for here I contrived to make\nthree excursions without permission. The second of these took a whole\nday, September 6, and its aim was the old bed of the Sutlej. Where we\nreached it, the bed seemed to contain stagnant water both to the east\nand west, and the ground was quite level. At the place which seemed\nhighest, we tested it with the boiling-point thermometer and found that\nit stood about 30 feet above the lake. Following the bed westwards we\ncome first to a large pool of sweet water with large quantities of ducks\nand water-weeds, then to a series of freshwater swamps connected by\nchannels, and at length to a brook, which flows slowly south-westwards.\nThe brook pours into a large freshwater pool, No. 2, which has no\nvisible outlet. But when we proceed farther west to the point where the\nbed is contracted between walls of solid rock, we come upon two springs\nforming a new brook, which flows through a clearly marked valley to the\nsouth-west. I am convinced that this water filtrates underground from\nLangak-tso. A year later I followed the old bed a day's march farther\nwest, and found at D\u00f6lchu-gompa permanent springs of abundant water,\nwhich likewise well up on the bottom of the bed. From here and all along\nits course through the Himalayas the Tibetans call the Sutlej\nLangchen-kamba, the Elephant river; the hill on which the convent\nD\u00f6lchu-gompa is built is supposed to bear some resemblance to an\nelephant, and hence the name. The spring at D\u00f6lchu is called\nLangchen-kabab, or the mouth out of which the Elephant river comes, just\nas the Brahmaputra source is the Tamchok-kabab, or the mouth out of\nwhich the Horse river comes, and the Indus source is the Singi-kabab, or\nthe mouth from which the Lion river comes. The fourth in the series is\nthe Mapchu-kamba, the Peacock river or Karnali. The Tibetans assert that\nthe source of the Sutlej is at the monastery D\u00f6lchu, not in the\nHimalayas or the Trans-Himalaya, from which, however, it receives very\nvoluminous tributaries. They are also convinced that the source water of\nthe Langchen-kamba originates from Langak-tso. And I would draw\nparticular attention to the fact that the first of the two holy springs\nwhich pour their water into the Tage-tsangpo is also called\nLangchen-kamba (see p. 105), a proof that in old times the source was\nsupposed to lie to the east of Tso-mavang.\n\n[Illustration: 268. KAILAS FROM DIRI-PU.]\n\n[Illustration: 269. CONFLUENCE OF THE TWO ARMS OF THE INDUS.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nNow I advise any one who takes no interest in the source of the Sutlej to\nskip the following quotation. During my stay in Kioto in December 1908,\nMr. Ogawa, Professor of Geography in the University there, showed me a\ncollection of Chinese books. One of them, _Shui-tao-ti-kang_, or _The\nElements of Hydrography_, is a compilation of the author Chi Chao Nan in\nthe 26th year of the Emperor Kien Lung, that is, the year 1762, and in\nthis work, Book 22, is the following communication concerning the source\nof the Sutlej, which Professor Ogawa was kind enough to translate for me\nliterally:[1]\n\n The Kang-ka-kiang comes out from Kang-ti-ssu-shan, on the south-east\n of which there stands Lang-chuan-ka-pa-pu-shan ( = Langchen-kabab),\n magnificent like an elephant. The relief is gradually accentuated more\n and more towards the south-western frontiers, and culminates at\n Kang-ti-ssu-shan ( = Kailas). The mountain has a circumference of more\n than 140 li. On all sides the mountain forms precipitous walls more\n than 1000 feet high above the surrounding mountains, and accumulated\n snow seems as if hung on cliffs. Hundreds of springs pour down from\n the top, but flow under the ground on the foot of the mountain. It is\n situated in the extreme west of the Tsang region, 310 li north-east of\n Ta-ko-la-cheng in A-li, more than 5590 li south-west of Si-ning-fu in\n Shensi province. Its longitude is 36\u00b0 4' W., and its latitude 30\u00b0 5'\n N. In olden times the place was unknown, but can be doubtfully\n identified with A-nok-ta-shan in the annotation of Shui-ching. In the\n neighbourhood there are four high mountains, of which the southern is\n called Lang-chuan-ka-pa-pu-shan, lying 250 li south-by-east of\n Kang-ti-ssu-shan, and 270 li east of Ta-kola-cheng. The natives call\n it so, because the form of the mountain resembles an elephant. On the\n east of this mountain there stands Ta-mu-chu-ko-ka-pa-pu-shan (=\n Tamchok-kabab), which is the source of the Ya-lu-tsang-pu river (=\n Yere-tsangpo or Brahmaputra). Springs come out from the northern foot\n of the mountain, and accumulate into a lake (35\u00b0 5' W., and 29\u00b0 1'\n N.). The water flows north-westwards for 70 li, and receives a stream\n coming from the north-east. The stream lies in the mountains 80 li\n north-east of Lang-chuan-ka-pa-pu. Two streams flow westwards from the\n mountain and turn north-westwards after their junction. It now takes a\n sinuous course for 60 li, turns south-westwards, and joins the main\n river. This is a source.\n\n The river flows further to the west-by-north for 40 li, then to the\n north-east, to be met by the water of lake Kung-sheng (= Gunchu-tso),\n which sinks under the ground of the lake basin, but which, after\n reappearing, and after receiving three northern affluents, runs\n south-westwards to the river.\n\n The lake of Kung-sheng-o-mo has two sources--one coming from the\n north-east, from Ta-ko-la-kung-ma-shan, and flowing 150-160 li; the\n other from the east, from the western foot of Ma-erh-yo-mu-ling ( =\n Marium-la) in the western frontiers of Cho-shu-t\u00ea. This last-mentioned\n mountain forms the eastern boundary of A-li, and is the chief range\n going south-eastwards from Kang-ti-ssu. The water (of the lake\n Kung-sheng) flows westwards for more than 50 li, and forms another\n lake, 80 li wide, and without an outlet. However, more than 10 li\n farther to the west there is a third lake with a subterranean source\n and with a length of 30 li. A stream comes from the north to the lake.\n The river now flows south-westwards for 60 li, and receives a stream\n coming from the north-east. 40 li farther south-westwards it receives\n a stream coming from the northern mountains; farther south-westwards\n the river meets the water from Lang-chuan-ka-pa-pu-shan.\n\n The water forms the lake Ma-piu-mu-ta-lai ( = Tso-mavang). From south\n to north it is 150 li long, from east to west 80 or 100 li wide, and\n has a circumference of more than 200 li. On the northern side of the\n lake there are two streams coming from the north. The lake is situated\n 120 li to the south of Kang-ti-ssu. The water flows out from the west\n of the lake into the lake Lang-ka (= Lan-gak-tso) at a distance of 60\n li. The latter lake receives a stream coming from the north-east. Lake\n Lang-ka has a narrow rectangular shape, pointed and elongated, the\n length from south to north being 170 li, and the width from east to\n west 100 li. Its northern pointed corner has the stream coming from\n north-east. There are three sources on the southern foot at a distance\n of 70 li from a southern branch of Kang-ti-ssu; they flow southwards,\n unite into one stream, which takes a south-westerly course for 150-160\n li before entering the lake. The lake is the same in circumference and\n area, but different in outline.\n\n The water (of lake Lang-ka) flows out from the west, and after running\n westwards for more than 100 li it turns to the south-west, and is now\n called the Lang-chu-ho, and takes a sinuous course for more than 200\n li. Then it receives the Chu-ka-la-ho coming from the north-east.\n\nThis description of the position of the source of the Sutlej is of such\nextraordinary interest that I do not like to reserve it for my\nscientific work, and the less so that it supports the theory I expressed\nwhen in India, that the Tage-tsangpo is nothing but the uppermost\nsection of the course of the Sutlej, or, in other words, that the source\nof the Tage-tsangpo is also that of the Sutlej. Many quotations have\nbeen looked up during the discussion that has arisen on this problem,\nbut they cannot compare in importance with the one just cited, which,\nmoreover, is sixty years older than the oldest of the others, namely,\nGerard's opinion that the Gunchu-tso is the source of the Sutlej.\n\nThe description in Chi Chao Nan's _Hydrography_ is distinguished by the\nsame careful conformity with the truth and conscientiousness as all\nother Chinese geographical descriptions. Compare the description of\nKailas (Kang-rinpoche) with what I have already said about it.\n\nLang-chuan-ka-pa-pu is the Chinese translation of the Tibetan\nLangchen-kabab, which literally means the \"Source of the Sutlej.\" When\nthe Chinese author informs us that east of Langchen-kabab lies\nTamchok-kabab, which is the source of the river Yere-tsangpo\n(Brahmaputra), we must admit that his description is quite in accordance\nwith the truth, as I, the first European to visit this country, have\nmyself discovered; for on the Tamlung-la I stood on the pass which parts\nthe water between the Brahmaputra and Sutlej, and immediately to the\nsouth of the pass I saw Gang-lung-gangri and the glacier from which the\nTage-tsangpo takes its rise, and in which the source of the Sutlej lies.\n\nIt is further said that the lake Gunchu-tso has two source streams--one\nfrom the north-east, from the mountain Ta-ko-la-kung-ma, which is\nevidently identical with D'Anville's Tacra-concla; the other from the\nwest side of the pass Marium-la: an account which agrees with Ryder's\nmap in all particulars. At present the Gunchu-tso is completely cut off\nand is salt; it therefore is no longer connected with the Sutlej system.\nBut 147 years ago it had an outlet which ran partly underground, and\nthen, rising up again, joined the Langchen-kamba or Tage-tsangpo. And\nthat the Tage-tsangpo was at one time considered by the Tibetans to be\nthe headwater of the Sutlej is apparent from the fact that its name,\nLangchen-kamba, is still applied to the upper of the two sacred source\nstreams in the valley of the Tage-tsangpo.\n\nAnd, again, it is said: This water, that is, the water of the\nLangchen-kabab, or the headwater of the Sutlej, forms the lake\nMa-piu-mu-ta-lai, the Tso-mavang or Tso-mavam, as the name is also\npronounced; on D'Anville's map (Map 2) it is written Ma-pama Talai, and\nD'Anville explains that Talai signifies lake. He might have added that\nit is the same word as in Dalai Lama, the priest, whose wisdom is as\nunfathomable as the ocean; for the Chinese word Talai or Dalai means\nocean. By the use of this word the Chinese author wished to imply that\nTso-mavang is much larger than the other lakes mentioned in his text.\n\nThe surplus water, as there is every reason to assume, flowed in the\nyear 1762 from Tso-mavang through the channel to Langak-tso. The length\nof the channel was 60 li, which corresponds to my 5\u00bd miles. All the\nnorthern tributaries which flow into the two lakes from the valleys of\nthe Trans-Himalaya are correctly noted. The lake Langak is called\nLang-ka. On D'Anville's map, the material for which was supplied by the\nJesuits who lived in Pekin in the time of the Emperor Kang Hi (at the\nbeginning of the eighteenth century), the lake is named Lanken. On the\nsame map the river flowing thence westwards is called Lanc-tchou\n(Sutlej), but it is suggested, absurdly enough, that it is the upper\ncourse of the Ganges. D'Anville names the mountains south of Tso-mavang\nLantchia-Kepou, which is Langchen-kabab, and the mountains lying to the\nsouth-east of them Tam-tchou, that is, Tamchok, in which he quite\ncorrectly places the origin of the Yarou Tsanpou, the Brahmaputra. The\nmaterial for the map of the whole Chinese Empire, which the Jesuits\npresented to the Emperor Kang Hi in the year 1718, was collected between\nthe years 1708 and 1716, and the Emperor procured information about\nTibet through natives, who were prepared for their work by the Jesuits,\njust as in later times English topographers have trained Indian pundits.\n\nFrom D'Anville's map we learn that 200 years ago the Sutlej flowed out\nof Langak-tso through the bed I have already described. Professor\nOgawa's translation of the Chinese text shows us that even in the year\n1762, or perhaps some years before, the river still emerged from the\nLangak-tso. And it is expressly said that the river Chu-ka-la-ho\n(Chu-kar, which, however, is said to descend from the north-east instead\nof the south-east) is only a tributary.\n\nIn the year 1846 Henry Strachey found no visible outlet, but he says\nthat there is one underground, and considers it probable that the\nchannel also may carry water when the lake has risen after heavy rains.\n\nOn July 30, 1908, I heard from the chief lama of the monastery\nD\u00f6lchu-gompa, who was born in the neighbourhood and was then fifty-five\nyears old, that when he was quite young, water occasionally flowed out\nof the lake. But when he was ten years old, that would be in the year\n1863, this water had failed, and since then no more had been seen. On\nthe other hand, the springs in the bed are constant both in winter and\nin summer, and are independent of the precipitation. The monks believe\nthat the water comes from Langak-tso, but nevertheless they call it the\nLangchen-kabab, the river which flows out of the mouth of the elephant.\n\nMy investigations on the spot, as well as the Chinese quotation, prove\nthat Colonel S. G. Burrard is quite right in his masterly description of\nthe rivers of the Himalayas and Tibet (Calcutta, 1907), when he includes\nTso-mavang and Langak-tso and all their affluents in the drainage basin\nof the Sutlej, and therefore I will here cite two sentences of Colonel\nBurrard:\n\n The connection between the two lakes may be taken as established, but\n that between the western lake and the Sutlej basin is still open to\n question. If the water from Rakas-tal flows into the Sutlej once a\n century, and then only for such a short period as to be observed by no\n one, we shall still be justified in including the lakes in the\n catchment area of the river.\n\nAnd in this connection I would point out that the water-level of Tibetan\nrivers and lakes is subject to periodical fluctuations, dependent on the\nprecipitation, of the same kind as the Br\u00fcckner periods. The level in\nthe two lakes varies from year to year. At the present time they are\nvery low, but there is nothing to prevent them rising gradually in a\nmore or less distant future. Tso-mavang may rise so that its water may\nagain flow through the channel to Langak-tso, and this lake at length\nmay discharge its surplus water, as formerly, through the dry bed of the\nSutlej. It is more probable, however, that Langak-tso is approaching a\ntime when it will lose its subterranean outlet also, and be quite\nisolated, like Gunchu-tso and Panggong-tso, and consequently become salt\nin time. But after it has lost its outlet it may be a long time, as\nProfessor Br\u00fcckner informs me, before the lake becomes noticeably salt.\nThe next step in the development will be that Tso-mavang will be cut off\nfrom Langak-tso and likewise become salt.\n\nHowever, we need not plunge into speculations and prognostications of\nthe future, which may have surprises in store about which we can form\nonly more or less probable conjectures. It is our duty to rely solely on\nfact and observation.\n\nAnd now that we are agreed that the two lakes belong to the drainage\narea of the Sutlej, the question is: Which of the rivers debouching into\nTso-mavang is the headwater of the Sutlej? Naturally, the longest and\nthe one which carries most water. The river which once flowed out of\nGunchu-tso has no claim to this honour, and the Gunchu-tso must be\nrejected as the source of the Sutlej. The Tage-tsangpo discharged 388\ncubic feet of water per second, while all the other streams entering\nTso-mavang carried at most 100 cubic feet each. The source of the\nTage-tsangpo in the front of the Gang-lung glacier is therefore the\nsource of the Sutlej.\n\n[Illustration: 270. TIBETAN FEMALE PILGRIMS AT KAILAS.]\n\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n [1] I have only omitted a couple of sentences, which have no\n immediate connection with the problem.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LI\n\nA PILGRIMAGE ROUND KANG-RINPOCHE\n\n\nWe are again on the Khaleb moor and the day is September 3, on which we\nare to begin the circuit of the holy mountain. The head Gova of Parka is\nwith us to hold me in check, but I take very good care not to betray my\nplans. Tsering, Rabsang, Namgyal, and Ishe are to go with me; they are\nLamaists, and are glad of the opportunity to come nearer the gates of\nsalvation by wandering round the holy mountain. We take provisions for\nthree days, the absolutely necessary instruments, sketch- and\nnote-books. The stand of the large camera and one of the boat's\ntarpaulins are to serve as a tent. The whole baggage is only a light\nload for a horse. I ride my small grey Ladaki and the four men march on\nfoot, for no one may ride round the holy mountain unless he is a\nheathen, like myself. The rest of the caravan is to wait for us in\nKhaleb, and my tent is to be left untouched that the Tibetans may think\nthat I am expected back in the evening.\n\nTsering, Namgyal, and Ishe start early, and Rabsang and I a little\nlater. The Gova and his men come to ask what it all means and whither I\nam going, but I answer only, \"I shall soon be back again,\" and ride off\nto the north, 30\u00b0 E., to the mouth of the Dunglung valley.\n\nThe others wait for us among the first moraines, and then we proceed in\nclose column up and down among old moraines which have been thrust down\nby vanished glaciers. A party of pilgrims from Kham in the distant east\nare resting on the bank of the Dunglung river. They have pitched their\ntents, and their horses are grazing on the fresh grass. From the top of\nthe moraine is seen the northern part of our stormy Langak-tso.\n\nWe ride up the valley and soon have on both sides solid rock of hard\ngreen and violet conglomerate, with huge cones of detritus at the foot\nof the slopes. Enormous boulders of conglomerate have fallen down here.\nOn the left bank of the river, where the road comes up from Tarchen,\nstand a small cubical house and several _manis_ and _chhortens_ in long\nrows: it is a sacred road, the road of pilgrims round Kang-rinpoche.\n\nThe cliffs assume ever wilder forms, falling perpendicularly to terraces\nand pebble screes, forming steps and ledges, fortifications, battlements\nand towers, as though built by human hands. They consist of sandstone\nand conglomerate, and the strata dip 10\u00b0 to the south, and to the eye\nappear horizontal. A small bridge spans the river. A party of pilgrims\nbehind us is just crossing it. But we are on the right bank, and above\nus Nyandi-gompa is perched on its terrace. Above it rises the vertical\nwall of a huge mountain mass, a dangerous background for the monastery.\nUp on a ledge dwells a hermit, and quite at the top stands a streamer\npole named Nyandi-kong. Five years ago a huge block fell down upon the\nmonastery and laid half of it in ruins. The block still lies in the\ninner court. It was early in the morning after long-continuous rain; no\none was hurt, but the monastery had to be rebuilt.\n\nTwo monks, two old women, and a boy received us kindly, and said it was\nthe first time they had seen a European in Nyandi. The monastery, as\nwell as the three others on Kailas, is under Tarchen-labrang, which is\nsituated on the southern foot of the mountain, where the pilgrims begin\nand end their circuit. Curiously enough, these monasteries belong to\nTongsa Penlop, the Raja of Bhotan. The preceding year, 1906, was a year\nof the fire horse, and the year 1918 will be a year of the earth horse;\nevery twelfth year is a horse year, in which wood, fire, earth, iron or\nwater is prefixed to the name horse; the Tibetan cycle (the period of\ntime which is the base of the reckoning) extends over sixty years with\nthe names of twelve different animals. Every horse year, and accordingly\nevery twelfth year, crowds of pilgrims come to Kailas. The monks said\nthat they cannot be counted, but they knew that in the year 1907 more\nthan 5000 pilgrims had been at Nyandi, of whom the greater part came\nfrom Ladak.\n\nThe _lhakang_, or hall of the gods, is very original. Four pillars\nsupport the roof. The altar, like a Chinese kiosque of wood painted in\ncolours, stands alone and in deep shadow, but so many votive lights are\nplaced in front that they seem like a festival illumination. An especial\nlamp hangs before the image of Sakya-muni, which stands against a wall.\nIn front of the altar is a huge copper vessel with a cover, which is\ncalled Tosungj\u00f6n. It is said to have flown in old times from India\nthrough the air. In winter it is filled with butter, in summer with\n_chang_. A lama with a brass ladle poured the consecrated beverage into\nthe bowls of my men, and out of the silver bowls with peacocks' feathers\nhe poured holy water into the hollow of their hands; they drank of it\nand besmeared their faces with the rest. All, except Rabsang, paid due\nreverence to the statues and prayed, and Tsering had murmured his\nprayers all the way along and let the beads of his rosary slip through\nhis fingers. Two fine elephant's tusks (_langchen-sala-rapten_) were set\nup before the altar.\n\nIn the Tsenkang hall is a figure of Hlabsen clothed in gold brocade and\n_kadakhs_, the god of Kang-rinpoche and Tso-mavang. In the ante-chamber\nis a whole arsenal of guns and swords and wooden and leathern shields,\neach with four iron bosses. On the outside of the monastery, which\nfronts the holy mountain, rows of artistically sculptured slabs are\naffixed. On six of them each of the holy characters is incised, and each\nof the gigantic characters is again filled in with the invariable alpha\nand omega of Lamaism, \"Om mani padme hum.\" On other flagstones gods are\ncarved with wonderful dexterity, and one feels a vain desire to buy one\nor two of them.\n\nThe view from the roof is indescribably beautiful. The icy summit of\nKang-rinpoche rises amid fantastic fissured precipitous rocks, and in\nthe foreground are the picturesque superstructure of the monastery and\nits streamers (Illust. 265).\n\nBut time flies. After spending three hours in Nyandi, we say farewell to\nthe monks, descend the steep path zigzagging among rubbish and boulders,\nand continue our journey to the north-north-east along the right bank of\nthe river. At every turn I could stand still in astonishment, for this\nvalley is one of the grandest and most beautiful in its wildness that I\nhave ever seen. The precipice on the right side of the valley is divided\ninto two stages with a terrace between them, and in the midst gapes a\ndark ravine. On the left side the rock forms a single vertical wall, and\nhere the eyes fall on a succession of singular forms of relief, rocks\nlike congealed cascades, citadels, church towers, and embattled\nfortifications, separated by ca\u00f1on-like hollows. Water from melting\nsnowfields pours down the steep slopes. One such jet of water is quite\n800 feet high and white as milk; the wind turns it into spray, but it\ncollects again, only to be split up against a projection. The rock\naround it is wet and dark with spurted drops. A natural rock bridge\ncrosses a small cleft with vertical walls.\n\nImmediately beyond the monastery the summit of Kailas is lost to view,\nbut soon a bit of it is seen again through a gap. We passed twelve\npilgrims, and soon after a second party resting on a slope. They put on\nsolemn faces and do not talk with one another, but murmur prayers,\nwalking with their bodies bent, and leaning on a staff--frequently, too,\nwithout a staff. How they have longed to come here! And now they are\nhere and walk round the mountain, which is always on their right. They\nfeel no weariness, for they know that every step improves their\nprospects in the world beyond the river of death. And when they have\nreturned to their black tents in distant valleys, they tell their\nfriends of all the wonders they have seen, and of the clouds, which sail\nlike the dragon ships of old below the white summit of Gangri.\n\nSmall conical cairns are everywhere. Tsering never omits to take up a\nstone from the margin of the road and lay it as his contribution on\nevery such votive pile, and thereby he does a good deed, for he makes\nthe way less rough for those who come after him. The sun looks out\nthrough a gap, and throws a bright yellow light into the valley, which\notherwise is in shadow. The icy peak again appears much foreshortened.\nSeveral tributaries come in from the sides, and towards evening the\nriver rises, containing quite 280 cubic feet of water.\n\nA man from Gertse has been going round the mountain for twenty\nsuccessive days, and now has just accomplished his tenth circuit.\nDunglung-do is a very important valley junction, where three valleys\nconverge--the Chamo-lung-chen from the north, 70\u00b0 W., the Dunglung from\nthe north, 5\u00b0 W., and the third, called in its upper course Hle-lungpa,\nwhich we ascend. We now have granite on both sides. Kailas turns a sharp\nedge to the north, and from here the peak resembles a tetrahedron more\nthan ever. Again the mountain is concealed by an elevation of the ring\nwhich girdles it as Monte Somma encircles Vesuvius. The main river\nswells up towards evening; the other two are spanned by bridges. Numbers\nof boulders lie all about. All is granite, and therefore the mountain\nforms are rounder and more lumpy (Illust. 267).\n\nAt length we see the monastery Diri-pu in front of us, standing on the\nslope on the right side of the valley. A huge block of granite beside\nthe path up to it bears the usual sacred characters, and there also are\nlong _manis_, streamers, and cairns. All the pilgrims we have overtaken\nin the course of the day turn into the monastery, where they can pass\nthe night free of charge. The convent is crammed full after the arrival\nof a party of pilgrims belonging to the Pembo sect. These, of course,\nwander round the mountain in the reverse direction, and the orthodox\ncast contemptuous glances at them when they meet. I prefer to pitch my\ntent on the roof, where the luggage of the pilgrims is piled up. Here\nalso there is a fine view of Kailas, raising its summit due south. With\na temperature of 40\u00b0 at nine o'clock it is cold and disagreeable, for a\nstrong wind blows, and my tent, consisting only of the camera-stand\ncovered with a linen cloth, is too small to allow of a fire being\nlighted (Illust. 268).\n\nSince I had been successful in fixing the positions of the sources of\nthe Brahmaputra and Sutlej, my old dream of discovering the source of\nthe Indus was revived, and all my aspirations and ambition were now\nconcentrated on this object. When I now learned from the monks that the\npoint where the famous river issues forth from the \"Mouth of the Lion\"\nwas only three days' journey to the north-east beyond a lofty pass,\neverything else seemed of trifling consequence compared to an advance\ninto the unknown country in the north. We held a council of war; we had\nprovisions only for two days more, and we had not brought enough money\nwith us, and, moreover, the state of affairs in Khaleb was too uncertain\nto allow of greater hazards. I therefore decided to carry out my\noriginal plan in the meantime and complete the pilgrimage, and\nafterwards make the source of the Indus the object of a fresh excursion\nfrom Khaleb, or, if the worst came to the worst, from Gartok.\n\n[Illustration: 271. THE GOVA BY WHOSE HELP THE SOURCE OF THE INDUS WAS\nDISCOVERED (SEATED) AND TIBETANS AT KAILAS.]\n\nOn September 4 we take leave of the monks of Diri-pu, cross by a bridge\nthe river which comes down from the pass Tseti-lachen-la in the\nTrans-Himalaya, from the other side of which the water flows to the\nIndus, and mount in an easterly direction over rough steep slopes\nthickly bestrewn with granite boulders. On our right is the river which\nis fed by the glaciers of Kailas; it is quite short, but is very full of\nwater. The path becomes still steeper, winding among immense blocks of\ngranite, and leads up to the first hump, after which the ground is a\nlittle more even to the next break. Here we have a splendid view of the\nshort truncated glacier which, fed from a sharply defined trough-shaped\nfirn basin, lies on the north side of Kailas. Its terminal, lateral, and\nmedial moraines are small but distinct. Eastwards from Kailas runs off\nan exceedingly sharp, pointed, and jagged ridge, covered on the north\nside with snow, and belts of pebbles in the snow give all this side a\nfurrowed appearance. From all corners of the ice mantle and the\nsnowfields foaming brooks hurry down to the river. On our left,\nnorthwards, the mountains consist of vertical fissured granite in\nwild pyramidal forms. Kailas is protected on the north by immense masses\nof granite, but the mountain itself is in all probability of\nconglomerate, as shown by the nearly horizontal bedding plainly\nperceptible in the projecting ledges, sharply marked snow-lines, and\nbelts of ice. The summit rises above this sea of wild mountains like a\nmighty crystal of hexagonal form.\n\nA party of poor women and children climbed wearily up to the pass. An\nelderly man, who was now making his ninth circuit, made no objection to\njoin our party; he knew the country and could give information about it.\nOn another rise in the ground, called Tutu-dapso, we saw hundreds of\nvotive cairns, 3 feet high--quite a forest of stone pyramids--like\ninnumerable gravestones in a churchyard (Illust. 270).\n\nSlowly and laboriously we climbed up this arduous pass, one of the most\ntroublesome on the whole journey. Thicker and thicker lay the boulders,\nexclusively of granite in all possible varieties, some pink and some so\nlight a grey as to be almost white. Between two boulders lay a\nsuspicious-looking bundle of clothes. We examined it, and found that it\ncontained the body of a man who had collapsed in making the tour of the\nmountain of the gods. His features were rigid, and he seemed poor and\nemaciated. No one knew who he was, and if he had any relations they\nwould never learn that his pilgrimage had launched him into new\nadventures among the dark mazes of the soul's migrations.\n\nOur old man stops at a flat granite block of colossal dimensions, and\nsays that this is a _dikpa-karnak_, or a test-stone for sinners. A\nnarrow tunnel runs under the block, and whoever is without sin, or at\nany rate has a clear conscience, can creep through the passage, but the\nman who sticks fast in the middle is a scoundrel. I asked the old man\nwhether it might not happen that a thin rogue would wriggle through\nwhile a fat, honest fellow might stick fast; but he answered very\nseriously that stoutness had nothing to do with the result of the trial,\nwhich depended only on the state of the soul. Evidently our honest Ishe\nwas not certain which way the balance of his conscience inclined, for,\nbefore we were aware, we saw him disappearing under the block, and heard\nhim puffing, panting, and groaning, scratching with his hands and trying\nto get a foothold behind. But when he had floundered about inside long\nand vigorously, he was at last obliged to call for help in a\nhalf-strangled voice. We laughed till we could hardly keep on our feet,\nand let him stay a while in his hole because of his manifest sinfulness.\nThen the two other men dragged him out by the legs, and he looked\nextremely confused (and dusty) when he at length emerged again into the\nouter world, an unmasked villain. The old man told us that a woman had\nbecome so firmly fixed that she had actually to be dug out.\n\nSome 200 paces farther in this maze of granite boulders, among which we\nwandered as in lanes between low houses and walls, stands a test-stone\nof another kind. It consists of three blocks leaning on one another,\nwith two hollows between them. The task is to creep through the left\npassage and return by the right, that is, in the orthodox direction.\nHere Ishe made up for his previous discomfiture by crawling through both\nholes. I told him frankly that there was no skill required here, for the\nholes were so large that even small yaks could go through. However, the\nsinner had in this second stone an opportunity of preserving at least a\nshow of righteousness.\n\nOur wanderings round Kang-rinpoche, the \"holy ice mountain\" or the \"ice\njewel,\" is one of my most memorable recollections of Tibet, and I quite\nunderstand how the Tibetans can regard as a divine sanctuary this\nwonderful mountain which has so striking a resemblance to a _chhorten_,\nthe monument which is erected in memory of a deceased saint within or\nwithout the temples. How often during our roamings had I heard of this\nmountain of salvation! And now I myself walked in pilgrim garb along the\npath between the monasteries, which are set, like precious stones in a\nbangle, in the track of pilgrims round Kang-rinpoche, the finger which\npoints up to the mighty gods throned like stars in unfathomable space.\n\nFrom the highlands of Kham in the remotest east, from Naktsang and Amdo,\nfrom the unknown Bongba, which we have heard of only in vague reports,\nfrom the black tents which stand like the spots of a leopard scattered\namong the dreary valleys of Tibet, from Ladak in the mountains of the\nfar west, and from the Himalayan lands in the south, thousands of\npilgrims come hither annually, to pace slowly and in deep meditation the\n28 miles round the navel of the earth, the mountain of salvation. I saw\nthe silent procession, the faithful bands, among which all ages and both\nsexes are represented, youths and maidens, strong men with wife and\nchild, grey old men who would before their death follow in the footsteps\nof countless pilgrims to win a happier existence, ragged fellows who\nlived like parasites on the charity of the other pilgrims, scoundrels\nwho had to do penance for a crime, robbers who had plundered peaceful\ntravellers, chiefs, officials, herdsmen, and nomads, a varied train of\nshady humanity on the thorny road, which after interminable ages ends in\nthe deep peace of Nirvana. August and serene Siva looks down from her\nparadise, and Hlabsen from his jewelled palace, on the innumerable human\nbeings below who circle, like asteroids round the sun, in ever fresh\ntroops, round the foot of the mountain, going up through the western\nvalley, crossing the Dolma pass, and descending the eastern valley.\n\nWe soon discover that most of these simple pilgrims have no clear idea\nof the benefits their journey is supposed to confer on them. When they\nare questioned, they usually answer that after death they will be\nallowed to sit near the god of Gangri. But what they all believe most\nfirmly and obstinately is that the pilgrimage will bring them a blessing\nin this world. It will ward off all evil from their tents and huts, will\nkeep away sickness from their children and herds, protect them from\nrobbers, thieves, and losses, will send them rain, good pasturage, and\nincrease among their yaks and sheep, will act like a talisman, and guard\nthemselves and their property as the four spirit kings protect the\nimages of the temple halls from demons. They march with light elastic\nstep, they feel neither the icy-cold cutting wind nor the scorching sun;\nevery step is a link in a chain which cannot be broken by the powers of\nevil which persecute and torment the children of men. They start on\ntheir way from Tarchen-labrang, and every new turn in the road brings\nthem a step nearer to the point where the ring closes. And during the\nwhole peregrination they pray \"Om mani padme hum,\" and every time this\nprayer is uttered they let a bead of the rosary pass through the\nfingers. The stranger also approaches Kang-rinpoche with a feeling of\nawe. It is incomparably the most famous mountain in the world. Mount\nEverest and Mont Blanc cannot vie with it. Yet there are millions of\nEuropeans who have never heard of Kang-rinpoche, while the Hindus and\nLamaists, all know Kailas, though they have no notion where Mont Blanc\nlifts up its head. Therefore one approaches the mountain with the same\nfeeling of respect as one experiences in Lhasa, Tashi-lunpo, Buddh Gaya,\nBenares, Mecca, Jerusalem, and Rome--those holy places which have\nattracted to their altars countless bands of sin-burdened souls and\nseekers after truth.\n\nOur volunteer guide said that he was on his ninth circuit of the mountain.\nHe took two days to each, and intended to go round thirteen times. He\ncalled the track Kang-kora, the Gangri circle. Many years before, he had\nperformed the meritorious feat called _gyangchag-tsallgen_, which consists\nin measuring the length of the way by the length of the pilgrim's body.\nOne such pilgrimage is worth thirteen ordinary circuits on foot. My\npilgrimage was of no value at all, because I was riding, the old man said;\nI must go on foot if I wished to derive any benefit from it.\n\n[Illustration: 272. _Gulam Razul beside Bales of Chinese Brick-Tea._]\n\nWhen we came a second time to Diri-pu some days later, we saw two young\nlamas engaged in the prostration pilgrimage round the mountain. They\nwere from Kham, and from that part of the country \"where the last men\ndwell,\" and had been a year on the way to Kailas. They were poor and\nragged, and had nothing to carry, for they lived on the alms of the\nfaithful. They had come in nine days from Tarchen to Diri-pu, and\nreckoned that they had still eleven days to finish their round. I\naccompanied them for half an hour on foot to observe their procedure.\nThis consisted of six movements. Suppose the young lama standing on the\npath with his forehead held slightly down and his arms hanging loosely\nat his sides, (1) He places the palms of his hands together and raises\nthem to the top of his head, at the same time bending his head a little\ndown; (2) he lays his hands under his chin, lifting up his head again;\n(3) he kneels upon the ground, bends forwards and lays himself full\nlength on the ground with outstretched arms; (4) he passes his hands\nlaid together over his head; (5) he stretches his right hand forwards as\nfar as it will reach, and scratches a mark in the soil with a piece of\nbone, which shows the line which must be touched by his toes at the next\nadvance; and (6) he raises himself up with his hands, makes two or three\nstrides up to the mark, and repeats the same actions. And thus he goes\nround the whole mountain.\n\nIt is slow work and they do not hurry; they perform the whole business\nwith composure, but they lose their breath, especially on the way up to\nthe pass. And on the way down from the Dolma-la there are places so\nsteep that it must be a gymnastic feat to lie down head foremost. One of\nthe young monks had already accomplished one round, and was now on the\nsecond. When he had finished, in twelve days, he intended to betake\nhimself to a monastery on the Tsangpo and be there immured for the rest\nof his life. And he was only twenty years old! We, who in our superior\nwisdom smile at these exhibitions of fanaticism and self-mortification,\nought to compare our own faith and convictions with theirs. The life\nbeyond the grave is hidden from all peoples, but religious conceptions\nhave clothed it in different forms among different peoples. \"If thou\nlookest closely, thou wilt see that hope, the child of heaven, points\nevery mortal with trembling hand to the obscure heights.\" Whatever may\nbe our own convictions, we must admire those who, however erroneous\ntheir views may be in our opinion, yet possess faith enough to remove\nmountains.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: OM MANI PADME HUM]\n\nCHAPTER LII\n\nOM MANI PADME HUM\n\n\nNow begins the last very steep zigzag in the troublesome path among\nsharp or round grey boulders of every form and size, a cone of blocks\nwith steps in it. Dung-chapje is the name of a round wall of stone, in\nthe midst of which is a smaller boulder, containing in a hollow\ndepression a round stone like the cleft hoof of a wild yak. When the\nfaithful pilgrim passes this spot, he takes this stone, strikes it\nagainst the bottom of the hollow and turns it once round like a pestle.\nConsequently the hollow is being constantly deepened, and one day it\nwill be lowered right through the block.\n\nWe mount up a ridge with brooks flowing on both sides. On every rock,\nwhich has a top at all level, small stones are piled up, and many of\nthese pyramidal heaps are packed so closely that there is no room for\nanother stone. Thanks to these cairns the pilgrim can find his way in\nsnowstorm and fog, though without them he could not easily find it in\nsunshine.\n\nAt length we see before us a gigantic boulder, its cubical contents\namounting perhaps to 7,000 or 10,000 cubic feet; it stands like an\nenormous milestone on the saddle of Dolma-la, which attains the\ntremendous height of 18,599 feet. On the top of the block smaller stones\nare piled up into a pyramid supporting a pole, and from its end cords\ndecorated with rags and streamers are stretched to other poles fixed in\nthe ground. Horns and bones, chiefly shoulder-blades of sheep, are here\ndeposited in large quantities--gifts of homage to the pass, which is\nsupposed to mark the half-way point of the pilgrimage. When the pilgrim\narrives here, he smears a bit of butter on the side of the stone, plucks\nout a lock of his own hair and plasters it into the butter. Thus he has\noffered up some of himself and some of his belongings. Consequently the\nstone resembles a huge wig-block, from which black locks of hair flutter\nin the wind. In time it would be completely covered with Tibetan hair,\nwere it not that the locks occasionally fall off and are blown away by\nthe wind. Teeth are stuck in all the chinks of the Dolma block, forming\nwhole rosaries of human teeth. If you have a loose tooth, dedicate it to\nthe spirits of the pass. Tsering unfortunately was toothless, or he\nwould gladly have conformed to this regulation.\n\nHeaps of rags lie all around, for the pilgrim has always a spare shred\nto hang on a string or lay at the foot of the block. But he not only\ngives, but also takes. Our old man took a rag from the heap and had a\nlarge quantity of such relics round his neck, for he had taken one from\nevery cairn.\n\nThe view is grand, though Kailas itself is not visible. But one can see\nthe sharp black ridge lying quite close on the south side with a mantle\nof snow and a hanging glacier, its blue margin cut off perpendicularly\nat the small moraine lake on the eastern side of the pass.\n\nWhile I sat at the foot of the block, making observations and drawing\nthe panorama, a lama came strolling up leaning on his stick. He carried\na book, a drum, a _dorche_, and a bell, and likewise a sickly-looking\nchild in a basket on his back. The parents, nomads in the valley below,\nhad given him _tsamba_ for two days to carry the child round the\nmountain, whereby it would recover its health. Many pilgrims gain their\nlivelihood by such services, and some make the pilgrimage only for the\nbenefit of others. The lama with the child complained that he had only\nmade the circuit of the mountain three times, and did not possess money\nenough to go round thirteen times. I gave him alms.\n\nThen he sat down on the pass, turned his face in the direction where\nthe summit of Kang-rinpoche was hidden, placed his hands together, and\nchanted an interminable succession of prayers. After this he went up to\nthe block and laid his forehead on the ground--how many times I do not\nknow, but he was still at it when we descended among boulders to the\ntiny round lake Tso-kav\u00e1la. We followed its northern shore, and our old\nfriend told me that the ice never breaks up.\n\nBut time slips away and we must hasten on. We walk, slide, and scramble\ndown steep slopes where it would be easy to tumble down head over heels.\nThe old man is sure-footed, and these slopes are old acquaintances. But\nwoe betide him if he turned round and went in the reverse direction. At\nlength we reach the main valley, called in its upper part Tselung, and\nin its lower Lam-chyker. Through the large valley, which enters the main\nvalley on the right side, and is called Kando-sanglam, we now look\neastwards upon the highest pinnacle of the summit of Kailas, which has a\nsharp edge towards the north-east, and still looks like a crystal. At\ntwo _manis_ erected side by side we pass the border of the granite and\nthe conglomerate, which now appears again. The further we proceed the\nmore numerous are the boulders of this kind of rock, while those of\ngranite at length occur no more. We march south-west and bivouac on the\nroof of the monastery Tsumtul-pu. All day long, at all the cairns and\nall the resting-places, I have heard nothing but an endless murmur of\nthe words \"Om mani padme hum,\" and now, as long as I am awake, \"Om mani\npadme hum\" sounds in my ears from all nooks and corners.\n\nThe temple had no other curiosity but a statue of Duk Ngavang Gyamtso, 5\nfeet high, sitting as at a writing-desk, two not very large elephant's\ntusks, and a five-branched chandelier from Lhasa. Our visit, therefore,\ndid not last long, and we rode down the valley in which the river\ngradually increased in size. Here, too, _manis_ and _chhortens_ are\nerected, and at the end of the valley, where again numbers of granite\nboulders are accumulated, we see once more Langak-tso and the grand\nGurla group.\n\n[Illustration: 273. TIBETAN TENT.]\n\n[Illustration: 274. MONASTERY OF GAR-GUNSA.]\n\n[Illustration: 275. IMAGES AT CHUSHUT.]\n\nAt Tarchen-labrang we reached the termination of the pilgrimage. Here\ntwenty-three tents were pitched, and we received the greatest attention,\nwere refreshed with milk and _chang_, and rested two hours. Then we left\nthe pilgrim road to the right, and came into sight of the fourth\nmonastery, perched high up on a terrace in the valley below the holy\npeak. A curious local wind at the north-west corner of Langak-tso raised\nup clouds of dust like the smoke of a burning town. A short while after,\nwe lay peacefully among our men in the camp on the Khaleb moor.\n\nBy this pilgrimage round the holy mountain, which I had been able to\naccomplish by an unexpected lucky chance, I had gained an insight into\nthe religious life of the Tibetans. It had also been, as it were, a\nrevisal of all the experiences I had already collected in this\nconnection.\n\nOur knowledge of Tibet is still defective, and some future traveller\nwill find sufficient material to show on a map of the whole Lamaistic\nworld all the great pilgrim routes to innumerable sanctuaries. On such a\nmap numerous roads would converge, like the spokes of a wheel, to Da\nKuren, the temple of Maidari in Urga. Still closer would the rays from\nevery inhabited spot of the immense territory of Lamaism run together to\ntheir chief focus, Lhasa. Somewhat less thickly they would unite at\nTashi-lunpo. Innumerable winding roads and paths would start from the\nfarthest border countries of Tibet, all tending towards the holy Kailas.\nWe know that they exist, and no great imagination is required to\nconceive how they would look on a map. But it is with the routes of\npilgrims just as with the flight of the wild-geese: we know nothing of\ntheir precise course. Besides, among the principal foci are scattered a\nnumber of smaller centres whence radii diverge to a sanctuary, a lake,\nor a spring, and from the heart of all these wind-roses peals out a cry\nto the faithful, similar to the exhortation of Isaiah: \"Look upon Zion,\nthe city of our solemnities: thine eyes shall see Jerusalem\" (Isa.\nxxxiii. 20).\n\nIn the ears of the Tibetan another saying rings, the mystical formula\n\"Om mani padme hum,\" not only on his wanderings to the goal of his\npilgrimage, but throughout his life. Concerning this Waddell makes,\namong others, the following remarks: \"Om-ma-ni pad-me Hum, which\nliterally means '_Om!_ The Jewel in the lotus!' _Hum!_--is addressed to\nthe Bodhisat Padmapani, who is represented like Buddha as seated or\nstanding within a lotus-flower. He is the patron-god of Tibet and the\ncontroller of metempsychosis. And no wonder this formula is so popular\nand constantly repeated by both Lamas and laity, for its mere utterance\nis believed to stop the cycle of re-births and to convey the reciter\ndirectly to paradise. Thus it is stated in the Mani-kah-bum with\nextravagant rhapsody that this formula 'is the essence of all happiness,\nprosperity, and knowledge, and the great means of deliverance,' for the\n_Om_ closes re-birth amongst the gods, _ma_ among the Titans, _ni_ as a\nman, _pad_ as a beast, _me_ as a Tantalus, and _Hum_ as an inhabitant of\nhell. And in keeping with this view each of these six syllables is given\nthe distinctive colour of these six states of re-birth, namely: _Om_,\nthe godly _white_; _ma_, the Titanic _blue_; _ni_, the human _yellow_;\n_pad_, the animal _green_; _me_, the 'Tantalic' _red_; and _Hum_, the\nhellish _black_\" (_The Buddhism of Tibet_, 148-9).\n\nK\u00f6ppen and Gr\u00fcnwedel translate the four words: \"O, Jewel in the\nlotus-flower, Amen.\"\n\nWherever one turns in Tibet, he sees the six sacred characters engraved\nor chiselled out, and hears them repeated everywhere. They are found in\nevery temple in hundreds of thousands of copies, nay, in millions, for\nin the great prayer mills they are stamped in fine letters on thin\npaper. On the monastery roofs, on the roofs of private houses, and on\nthe black tents, they are inscribed on the fluttering streamers. On all\nthe roads we ride daily past wall-like stone cists covered with slabs,\non which the formula \"Om mani padme hum\" is carved. Seldom does the most\nlonely path lead up to a pass where no cairn is erected to remind the\nwanderer of his dependence all his life long on the influence of good\nand bad spirits. And on the top of every such _lhato_ or _lhadse_ is\nfixed a pole or a stick with streamers, every one proclaiming in black\nletters the eternal truth. At projecting rocks cubical _chhortens_ or\n_lhatos_ stand beside the road in red and white. On the sides of granite\nrocks polished smooth by wind and weather figures of Buddha are\nfrequently cut, and below them, as well as on fallen boulders, can be\nread in gigantic characters \"Om mani padme hum.\" On the piers between\nwhich chain bridges are stretched over the Tsangpo or other rivers,\nheaps of stones are piled up, and on all these innumerable votive cairns\nlie yak skulls and crania of wild sheep and antelopes. Into the horns\nand the bleached frontal bones of the yak the sacred formula is cut, and\nthe incised characters are filled in with red or some other holy colour.\nWe find them again in innumerable copies and in many forms, especially\non the high-roads which lead to temples and pilgrims' resorts, as well\nas at all places where there is danger, as on mountain passes and river\nfords. And even the ferry boats of hide are decorated with blessed\nstreamers.\n\nIn every caravan one man at least, and usually several, has a\nprayer-mill in his hand. This is rotated by means of a weight round the\naxle of the handle, and is stuffed full of paper strips bearing the holy\nformula in many thousands of impressions. All day long, whatever the\nduration of the journey, the believer turns his prayer-mill and babbles\nin chanting tones \"Om mani padme hum.\" The militia who are called out to\ncatch a robber band have on their ride more confidence in their\nprayer-mills than in their guns and sabres, and, sad to say, there are\nsome even among the robbers who rattle off their Om and Hum in order to\nmake their escape. Among the escorts which accompanied me on various\noccasions there were always one or two horsemen armed with a _mani_\nmachine. One always sees this convenient praying instrument in the hands\nof the people one meets. The herdsman murmurs the six syllables beside\nhis herd, his wife when milking the sheep, the merchant as he goes to\nmarket, the hunter as he stalks the wild yak on untrodden paths, the\nnomad when he sets out to move his tent to another pasture, the artisan\nas he bends over his work. With these words the Tibetan begins his day,\nand with them on his tongue he lies down to rest. The Om and Hum are\nnot only the Alpha and Omega of the day, but of his whole life.\n\nThe mystic words rang constantly in my ears. I heard them when the sun\nrose and when I blew out my light, and I did not escape them even in the\nwilderness, for my own men murmured \"Om mani padme hum.\" They belong to\nTibet, these words; they are inseparable from it: I cannot imagine the\nsnow-capped mountains and the blue lakes without them. They are as\nclosely connected with this country as buzzing with the bee-hive, as the\nflutter of streamers with the pass, as the ceaseless west wind with its\nhowling.\n\nThe life of the Tibetan from the cradle to the grave is interwoven with\na multitude of religious precepts and customs. It is his duty to\ncontribute his mite to the maintenance of the monasteries and to the\nPeter's pence of the temples. When he passes a votive cairn he adds a\nstone to the pile as an offering; when he rides by a _mani_, he never\nforgets to guide his steed to the left of it; when he sees a holy\nmountain, he never omits to lay his forehead on the ground in homage; in\nall important undertakings he must, for the sake of his eternal\nsalvation, seek the advice of monks learned in the law; when a mendicant\nlama comes to his door he never refuses to give him a handful of\n_tsamba_ or a lump of butter; when he makes the round of the temple\nhalls, he adds his contribution to the collection in the votive bowls;\nand when he saddles his horse or loads a yak, he again hums the\neverlasting \"Om mani padme hum.\"\n\nMore frequently than an Ave Maria or a Paternoster in the Catholic\nworld, \"Om mani padme hum\" forms an accompaniment to the life and\nwanderings of humanity over half Asia. The boundless vista opened out by\nthe six holy syllables is thus expressed by Edwin Arnold in the\nconcluding lines of his poem, _The Light of Asia_:\n\n The dew is on the lotus. Rise, Great Sun!\n And lift my leaf and mix me with the wave.\n Om mani padme hum, the sunrise comes.\n The dewdrop slips into the shining sea.\n\n[Illustration: 276. THE POLICEMEN FROM SIMLA.]\n\n[Illustration: 277. MY BOAT ON THE INDUS.]\n\n[Illustration: 278. LADAKI WOMEN.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIII\n\nTHE DISCOVERY OF THE SOURCE OF THE INDUS\n\n\nImmediately on my arrival in Khaleb I told the old gova, who had the\nhopeless and thankless task of watching my proceedings, that I now\nintended to take the road past Singi-kabab, or the source of the Indus.\n\n\"If you go thither, Bombo,\" he answered, \"I shall at once send a courier\nto the Garpuns, the two chiefs in Gartok.\"\n\n\"I do not think that the Garpuns will have any objection to my taking a\nmore northerly route.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, the Garpuns received orders from Lhasa five days ago to watch\ncarefully that you followed no other way but the great high-road to\nGartok. The Garpuns straightway sent couriers to twelve different\nplaces--Parka, Misser, Purang, Singtod, and others--to make it known\nthat you were not permitted to travel on byroads. If this letter had not\nreached me, I would willingly have let you march northwards, but now I\ndare not for my own sake.\"\n\n\"What would you do if I quietly disappeared one night? I can buy yaks in\nTarchen, and then I shall not be dependent on those I have from you.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. A man lives in Tarchen who has sixty yaks, and will\nsell them as soon as he sees silver money. But I shall at once send word\nto the Garpuns, and they will send men after you and force you to come\nback. To buy yaks would therefore be useless waste of money. However, if\nyou like to let the main part of your caravan follow the high-road, and\nmake yourself an excursion of a couple of days northwards to the\nSingi-kabab, and then join your caravan again, I will put no obstacles\nin your way. But you do it at your own risk, and you will most certainly\nbe caught before you reach the source of the Indus.\"\n\nI was as much astonished as delighted by this sudden change in the\nattitude of the gova, and arranged with Robert that he should lead the\nmain caravan in very short day's marches to Gartok, while I made as\nrapidly as possible for the source of the Indus. I took only as many\nthings as a small leathern trunk would contain, and as companions only\nfive men, among them Rabsang as interpreter and Adul as cook, with our\nown six animals and three dogs, one of which, a new purchase, ran away\non the first day. I had Robert's small tent, and our arsenal consisted\nof two guns and a revolver, for robbers were said to make the country\nvery unsafe. I could not find a guide, but on the way to Diri-pu, where\nI encamped once more, I came across an old man from Tok-jalung, who\nwished to make the round of Kailas thirteen times, and gave me much\nvaluable information. But no money could induce him to accompany us\nfarther.\n\nOn the 8th we continued our way through the valley that runs\nnorth-north-eastwards from Diri-pu to the Tseti-la. The stream, divided\ninto many arms, was covered in the night by a thin coating of ice,\nsmooth as glass, where the water had run off, but it disappeared when\nday came. The valley is broad, and the road showed traces of\nconsiderable traffic, though we did not meet a soul. The marmots\nwhistled in front of their holes; the summer would soon be over for\nthem. Kang-rinpoche can be seen from many places, and here pilgrims from\nthe north have piled up cairns. Granite predominates everywhere, but\ncrystalline schists occur here and there. We followed the fresh tracks\nof three horsemen. The gradient became steeper and the scenery assumed\nmore of an alpine character. We mounted up among huge cones of detritus\nwith babbling brooks of melted snow to the pass, which lay at a height\nof 18,465 feet. Its plateau is singularly flat. On its northern side\ncamp No. 234 was pitched.\n\n\nIn the evening Rabsang reported that our fuel-gatherers had heard\nwhistles, and that these signals had been answered from the other side.\nThe men believed that there were robbers here, and did not dare to sit\noutside by the fire lest they should be good marks for shots out of an\nambush. I quieted them with the assurance that no robber would venture\nto attack a European, but gave orders to the watchmen to keep an eye on\nour animals.\n\nThe night passed quietly and the minimum temperature went down to 16.2\u00b0;\nautumn was come again into dreary Tibet. I had supposed that the\nTseti-la was the pass on the main divide, but we had not gone far when\nwe saw its brook, which flowed northwards, make a bend to the west, and\ndescend through a well-defined valley to the Dunglung. It therefore\nbelongs to the catchment basin of the Sutlej and not to the Indus, and\nthe Tseti-la is a pass of secondary order. But we soon reached the\nactual pass, an extremely flat threshold. Here lies a small muddy lake\ndrained by a brook issuing from its eastern side, which we followed all\nday. This pass is the Tseti-lachen-la, and it is a water-parting between\nthe Sutlej and the Indus. Its height is less than that of the Tseti-la,\nfor it is only 17,933 feet; it lies on the main chain of the\nTrans-Himalaya. Kailas, therefore, lies a good day's journey south of\nthe watershed of the two rivers, and belongs entirely to the basin of\nthe Sutlej.\n\nFrom the lake we follow the little affluent of the Indus northwards. The\nground is marshy and rough. Here and there are seen three hearthstones.\nA dead horse lies among the luxuriant grass. It is singular that no\nnomads are encamped here. At length we see at a far distance quite down\nin the valley men going downstream with large flocks of sheep. Tundup\nSonam and Ishe are sent after them, and by degrees the rest of us come\nup with the party. They are nomads from Gertse, who have taken salt to\nGyanima and are now transporting barley on their 500 sheep. All the\nvalley is dotted over with white sheep, which trip along actively,\nplucking the grass as they go. In front of us rises a steep purple\nmountain chain, and along the flank turned towards us the Indus is said\nto flow. We joined the men of the sheep caravan and camped together with\nthem. There were five of them, all armed with guns, and they said that\nthe district was frequently haunted by robbers, who at times seemed to\nvanish altogether, and then suddenly came down like a whirlwind, and no\none knew whence they came.\n\nOur camping-ground on the bank of the Indus (16,663 feet) is called\nSingi-buk. Eastwards the valley is broad and open, but the Indus itself\nis here an insignificant stream. I was therefore not astonished when I\nheard that it was only a short day's journey to the source, which, I was\ntold, does not proceed from snow or a glacier, but springs up out of the\nground. The men called the river the Singi-tsangpo, or Singi-kamba, and\nthe source itself Singi-kabab, though we afterwards heard the word\npronounced Senge more frequently than Singi.\n\nIt turned out that one of the five men knew all about us. He was a\nbrother of the Lobsang Tsering on the Dungtse-tso who had sold us three\nyaks the winter before (see Chapter XV.). It was a singular chance that\nwe should fall in with him. He said he had heard how well we had treated\nhis brother, and offered us his services--for a good reward, of course.\nAs he had travelled several times through this region, quite unknown to\nEuropeans, and was acquainted with all the passes, roads, and valleys, I\nthought he would be very valuable to me, and I proposed to give him 7\nrupees a day, that is about half a month's pay of one of my Ladakis. Of\ncourse he accepted the terms at once and soon became our intimate\nfriend.\n\nBut these business matters were not yet settled. The man had a quantity\nof sheep and barley. He consented to let us eight sheep on hire, and\nsell us their loads, which would last our horses for a week. He was to\nreceive a rupee for the hire of each sheep, which was high, for a sheep\nis worth only 2 to 3 rupees. The old man would therefore receive 18\nrupees every evening as long as he was with us; but it was cheap after\nall, for the discovery of the source of the Indus was involved.\n\n[Illustration: 279, 280, 281. AT THE MONASTERY DOOR IN TASHI-GANG\nBETWEEN GARTOK AND LADAK.]\n\nThe large sheep-caravan had already started on September 10, when we,\nwith our new guide, whose own _tsamba_ was carried on a ninth sheep,\nfollowed in its track. After an hour's march we crossed a tributary, the\nLungdep-chu, which comes from a valley in the south-east, with flattish\nmountains in the background.\n\nA little farther up the Singi-kamba expands into a basin containing an\nabundance of medium-sized fish. As we passed, the fish were darting\nupstream in compact shoals, and passed a very shallow place with slight\nswirls. Here Rabsang attacked them, but all his catch was only one small\nmiserable fish. Then we threw up a dam by the bank, with an opening on\none side, and the men went into the water and drove in the fish with\nshouts and splashing. Then the entrance was built up. After we had\nrepeated this diversion three times, we had procured thirty-seven fine\nfish, and I was eager for my dinner, which I usually looked forward to\nwith some loathing, for the hard dried mutton had become thoroughly\ndistasteful to me. Our old man, who sat and watched us, thought that we\nhad taken leave of our senses. Farther up, the fish were so crowded in a\nquiet pool that they made the water seem almost black with their dark\nbacks.\n\nWe rode up the valley, leaving on our right a red, loaf-shaped mountain\ncalled Lungdep-ningri. Opposite, on the northern side of the valley,\nwere seen two fine Ovis Ammon sheep feeding on a conical elevation. They\nbore splendid horns, and carried their heads royally. They soon\nperceived us, and made slowly up the slope. But they paid too much\nattention to our movements, and did not notice that Tundup Sonam, with\nhis gun on his back, was making a detour to stalk them from the other\nside of the hill. After a while we heard a shot, and a good hour later,\nwhen the camp was pitched, Tundup came back laden with as much of the\nflesh of his victim as he could carry. Thus we obtained a fresh addition\nto our somewhat scanty rations, and Tundup's exploit enhanced the glory\nof this memorable day. In the evening he went off again to fetch more\nmeat, and he brought me the head of the wild sheep, which I wished to\npreserve as a memento of the day at the source of the Indus.\n\n\nThe ground rises exceedingly slowly. Singi-y\u00fcra is a rugged cliff to the\nnorth, with a large hole through its summit. Singi-chava is the name of\na commanding eminence to the south. Then we wade through the outflow of\nthe Munjam valley running in from the south-east. Above this the Indus\nis only a tiny brook, and part of its water comes from a valley in the\nsouth-east, the Bokar. A little later we camp at the aperture of the\nspring, which is so well concealed that it might easily be overlooked\nwithout a guide.\n\nFrom the mountains on the northern side a flattish cone of detritus, or,\nmore correctly, a slope bestrewn with rubbish, descends to the level,\nopen valley. At its foot projects a slab of white rock with an almost\nhorizontal bedding, underneath which several small springs well up out\nof the ground, forming weedy ponds and the source stream, which we had\ntraced upwards, and which is the first and uppermost of the headwaters\nof the mighty Indus. The four largest springs, where they issued from\nthe ground, had temperatures of 48.6\u00b0, 49.1\u00b0, 49.6\u00b0, and 50.4\u00b0\nrespectively. They are said to emit the same quantity of water in winter\nand summer, but a little more after rainy seasons. Up on the slab of\nrock stand three tall cairns and a small cubical _lhato_ containing\nvotive pyramids of clay. And below the _lhato_ is a quadrangular _mani_,\nwith hundreds of red flagstones, some covered with fine close\ninscriptions, some bearing a single character 20 inches high. On two the\nwheel of life was incised, and on another a divine image, which I\ncarried off as a souvenir of the source of the Indus.\n\nOur guide said that the source Singi-kabab was reverenced because of its\ndivine origin. When travellers reached this place or any other part of\nthe upper Indus, they scooped up water with their hands, drank of it,\nand sprinkled their faces and heads with it.\n\n[Illustration: 282. DANCING WOMEN IN CHUSHUT, A VILLAGE ON MY WAY BACK\nTO LADAK.]\n\nThrough the investigations made by Montgomerie's pundits in the year\n1867 it was known that the eastern arm of the Indus is the actual\nheadwater, and I had afterwards an opportunity of proving by measurement\nthat the western, Gartok, stream is considerably smaller. But no\npundit had succeeded in penetrating to the source, and the one who\nhad advanced nearest to it, namely, to a point 30 miles from it, had\nbeen attacked by robbers and forced to turn back. Consequently, until\nour time the erroneous opinion prevailed that the Indus had its source\non the north flank of Kailas, and, thanks to those admirable robbers,\nthe discovery of the Indus source was reserved for me and my five\nLadakis.\n\nWe passed a memorable evening and a memorable night at this important\ngeographical spot, situated 16,946 feet above sea-level. Here I stood\nand saw the Indus emerge from the lap of the earth. Here I stood and saw\nthis unpretentious brook wind down the valley, and I thought of all the\nchanges it must undergo before it passes between rocky cliffs, singing\nits roaring song in ever more powerful crescendo, down to the sea at\nKarachi, where steamers load and unload their cargoes. I thought of its\nrestless course through western Tibet, through Ladak and Baltistan, past\nSkardu, where the apricot trees nod on its banks, through Dardistan and\nKohistan, past Peshawar, and across the plains of the western Panjab,\nuntil at last it is swallowed up by the salt waves of the ocean, the\nNirvana and the refuge of all weary rivers. Here I stood and wondered\nwhether the Macedonian Alexander, when he crossed the Indus 2200 years\nago, had any notion where its source lay, and I revelled in the\nconsciousness that, except the Tibetans themselves, no other human being\nbut myself had penetrated to this spot. Great obstacles had been placed\nin my way, but Providence had secured for me the triumph of reaching the\nactual sources of the Brahmaputra and Indus, and ascertaining the origin\nof these two historical rivers, which, like the claws of a crab, grip\nthe highest of all the mountain systems of the world--the Himalayas.\nTheir waters are born in the reservoirs of the firmament, and they roll\ndown their floods to the lowlands to yield life and sustenance to fifty\nmillions of human beings. Up here white monasteries stand peacefully on\ntheir banks, while in India pagodas and mosques are reflected in their\nwaters; up here wolves, wild yaks, and wild sheep, roam about their\nvalleys, while down below in India the eyes of tigers and leopards\nshine like glowing coals of fire from the jungles that skirt their\nbanks, and poisonous snakes wriggle through the dense brushwood. Here in\ndreary Tibet icy storms and cold snowfalls lash their waves, while down\nin the flat country mild breezes whisper in the crowns of the palms and\nmango trees. I seemed to listen here to the beating of the pulses of\nthese two renowned rivers, to watch the industry and rivalry which,\nthrough untold generations, have occupied unnumbered human lives, short\nand transitory as the life of the midge and the grass; all those\nwanderers on the earth and guests in the abodes of time, who have been\nborn beside the fleeting current of these rivers, have drunk of their\nwaters, have drawn from them life and strength for their fields, have\nlived and died on their banks, and have risen from the sheltered freedom\nof their valleys up to the realms of eternal hope. Not without pride,\nbut still with a feeling of humble thankfulness, I stood there,\nconscious that I was the first white man who had ever penetrated to the\nsources of the Indus and Brahmaputra.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIV\n\nA RESOLUTION\n\n\nFrom the source of the Indus we travelled on north-eastwards with our\nfriendly guide to a locality called Yumba-matsen, which lies in lat. 32\u00b0\nN. And thence I betook myself to Gartok, the chief town of western Tibet\nand the residence of the two Garpuns, where I arrived after many\nadventures on September 26, having crossed the Trans-Himalaya for the\nfifth time by the Jukti-la (19,111 feet high). I must, alas! omit a\ndescription of this journey for the present, though it passed for the\nmost part through unknown country. Mr. Calvert crossed over the Jukti-la\ntwo years before.\n\nIn Gartok (14,656 feet) a new period began. This town is a turning-point\nin the chronicles of my journey. In the first place, I again came into\ncontact with the outer world. Thakur Jai Chand, the British commercial\nagent, handed me immediately on my arrival a thick packet of letters,\nincluding a quantity from my dear home, and others from Lord and Lady\nMinto and their daughters, from Colonel Dunlop Smith, Younghusband,\nO'Connor, Rawling, and many other friends in Europe and Asia. Nothing,\nhowever, was heard of the heavy consignment I expected from Simla. But\nsoon afterwards I heard from Dunlop Smith that all I had ordered was on\nthe way and would arrive in due course, and meantime I had to wait in\npatience.\n\nThe Garpuns at once sent me presents as a token of welcome, with the\nusual polite phrases. They were of too great importance to visit me\nfirst, so next day I went to them. The elder was ill; the younger, a\ngentleman from Lhasa, thirty-five years of age and of distinguished\nappearance, received me most cordially in his simple Government\nbuildings, and was so little angry at the liberties I had recently taken\nthat he did not even ask me where I had been. It was an irony of fate\nthat a letter in most friendly terms and most liberal in its\nconcessions, which I now received from Lien Darin by the hand of the\nGarpun, had not reached me until it was too late. When Lien Darin\nreceived my letter from Raga-tasam, he immediately sent off two Chinamen\nfully authorized to come to an agreement with me about the route I was\nto take. \"For I shall be glad to know,\" said the Amban of Lhasa, \"that\nyou are travelling by the road that suits you.\" He was quite convinced\nthat my movements, whichever way I took, would give no cause for\npolitical complications. And he concluded with the words: \"Now, I hope\nthat you will have a successful and peaceful journey, and I will pray\nfor your health and prosperity.\"\n\nHow I regretted now that I had not stayed in Saka, and so much the more\nwhen the Garpun told me that the two Chinamen had arrived with an escort\nof four Tibetans only two weeks after we had left! But the Garpun was\nfriendly disposed towards me; he was the most powerful man in western\nTibet, and could still throw open all doors for me, if he dared and was\nwilling to do so.\n\n[Illustration: 283. OLD WOMAN.]\n\n[Illustration: 284. LAMA IN CHUSHUT.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nI was, indeed, pleased and thankful for the results which I had already\nbeen able to secure. Besides many other problems that had been solved, I\nhad crossed the Trans-Himalaya by five passes, namely, the Sela-la,\nChang-la-Pod-la, Angden-la, Tseti-lachen-la, and Jukti-la, of which the\nfirst four had been entirely unknown. But between the Angden-la and the\nTseti-lachen-la I had been obliged to leave a gap of quite 330 miles in\nthe exploration of the Trans-Himalaya. Of this region nothing was known\nbut the summits Ryder had seen from his route, and which he and Wood had\nmeasured by observation. We also possessed some uncertain statements of\nNain Sing's journey in 1873, but his route lay to the north of the blank\npatch, and this blank represented an area of 5300 square miles. I could\nnot return home without having done all that was humanly possible to\ntraverse the unknown country by at least one route. Precisely there was\nthe line forming the watershed between the Indian Ocean and the inland\ndrainage of the salt lakes on the Tibetan plateau. There many lakes and\nrivers might be expected to exist, and there lay the large province of\nBongba, of which so many hazy reports had reached our ears from its\nnorthern, eastern, and southern boundaries. But the greatest and most\nimportant question of all was: Does the Nien-chen-tang-la run right\nthrough Tibet in a westerly and north-westerly direction to the north of\nthe Tsangpo and the upper Indus? No European and no pundit had hitherto\nventured on this problem; but Hodgson, Saunders, and Atkinson had many\nyears before laid down a hypothetical range on their maps of Tibet. Did\nit actually exist? Or was a labyrinth of ranges hidden under the white\nspace, or a comparatively flat plateau, on which foundation isolated\nsnowy peaks and chains were based? Hypotheses are absolutely worthless\ncompared to proved facts. Such facts I would procure. I knew that if I\ndid not succeed now in penetrating into the country which on the latest\nEnglish map of Tibet (1906, Map 1) bears only the word \"Unexplored,\" one\nfine day another explorer would come and rob me of this triumph. And\nthis thought I could not endure.\n\nIn Gartok my old friend from Leh, the rich merchant Gulam Razul, was\nstaying (Illust. 272). I consulted him, and he was to be my delivering\nangel. He took a very sanguine view of our position, for the Garpun owed\nhim 7000 rupees for goods delivered, and feared his influence; he could\ntherefore put pressure on the Viceroy of western Tibet. He first tried\nstratagem, which, however, completely failed, for the Garpun replied he\nwas too fond of his head to expose it to risk by assisting a European\nwho had no permission to travel about the country. Then we tried gold,\nbut the Garpun answered most theatrically: \"If this house were of gold\nand you offered it to me, I would not take it. If you travel on\nforbidden roads, I will send armed men after you who will force you to\nreturn hither.\"\n\nHe was incorruptible, and he was too strong for us. How sorry I was now\nthat I had not proceeded eastwards when I was in enjoyment of complete\nfreedom at the source of the Indus and in Yumba-matsen! But no, that was\nimpossible, for my cash-box was then not full enough, I had only five\nmen with me, and I could not have left the rest of my caravan to their\nown devices.\n\nWhat if I went down into Nepal and came back again into Tibet by\nunguarded roads? No, that would not do, for snow would soon close the\nHimalayan passes. And if we tried to slink through to Rudok and thence\nmake eastwards? No, Rudok swarmed with spies. And soon Gulam Razul\nlearned also that the Garpun had sent orders throughout his territory to\nstop me in case I attempted to travel even to Ladak by any other than\nthe main high-road.\n\nThus we planned this and that, and mused day and night, sometimes in my\ntent, sometimes in Gulam Razul's, and waited for the consignment from\nSimla, heard bells jingle when couriers came from the east, saw one\nmerchant after another return from the fair in Lhasa, met the _serpun_\nor gold commissioner who came from Tok-jalung, and felt the cold of\nautumn cut our skins more sharply as the thermometer fell to -11\u00b0.\n\nThen in lonely hours I came to the resolution to return to Ladak and\nthence, as in the year before, penetrate into Tibet from the north,\ntraverse the whole country once more, and cross the blank space. I knew\nvery well that by this roundabout way it would take half a year to reach\ndistricts situated only a month's journey from Gartok. A new caravan\nwould be necessary, new dangers and adventures awaited us, and winter\nwas before us with its Arctic cold. But it must be done in spite of\neverything. I would not turn back until the obstacles in my way became\nquite insuperable. To enter Ladak, a country under British protection,\nwas a risk, and therefore I must make all haste to cross the frontier\nagain. I could not avoid Rawling's and Deasy's country, but what did it\nmatter? My aim was the unknown region, which I would try to explore by\nsome route or other.\n\nGulam Razul and Robert were the only ones who were initiated into my new\nplans, for in them I could place the blindest confidence. During our\nconferences we spoke in Persian, and Robert kept a watch that no\neavesdropper came near my tent. Gulam Razul undertook to get together\nthe new caravan from Leh, and it was to reach at a certain time Drugub,\nwhere I meant to dismiss my last thirteen men; they were worn-out and\nlonged to get home. Gulam Razul undertook the responsibility of finding\nme fresh men.\n\nOn October 20 we left Gartok to await in Gar-gunsa the arrival of the\nconsignment from India. Gulam Razul, Thakur Jai Chand, the postmaster\nDeni Das, and the doctor Mohanlal, also moved thither. Robert had heard\nin Gartok the sad news that his elder brother had died in Further India,\nand now he received a fresh blow, for his little brother, ten years old,\nhad been drowned in Srinagar. He was inconsolable, and begged me to let\nhim go home to his mother, who had now only one son left. So I was to\nlose him also.\n\nGulam Razul had three large tents within his fence of boughs (Illust.\n254). There he sat like a pasha on his divan, smoked a large silver\nnarghil\u00e9, and received his guests with Oriental dignity. He was jovial\nand agreeable, undertook to do everything, and thought nothing of\ndifficulties. There we made our plans and long lists of things to be\nbought, and as my arrival in Ladak could not be kept secret for long, we\nspread the report that I wanted a new caravan for a journey to Khotan,\nand that I intended to travel to Pekin in the spring. For the success of\nthe plan it was essential that no one should have any suspicion of my\nreal intentions; for in that case, especial orders would be sent to\nRudok and to the nomads. My own servants and all Hajji Nazer Shah's\nhousehold believed therefore that it was my settled purpose to go to\nKhotan, and that I had given up all thoughts of Tibet. I even went so\nfar as to send a telegram from Drugub to Reuter's correspondent in\nIndia, my friend Mr. Buck, with the information that I was about to make\na short journey to Khotan. The object was to mislead the mandarins. If\nno one else would help me, I must help myself, and, if necessary, with\ncunning and trickery. None of my Indian friends must have any suspicion\nof my real plans, not even Colonel Dunlop Smith; it would, of course, be\nsilly to put them in a position where they must either betray me or be\ndisloyal to their own superiors. Except Gulam Razul and Robert, only my\nparents and sisters were let into the secret. But, unfortunately, I had\ngiven them a far too optimistic estimate of the length of my enterprise,\nand therefore when they heard no news they became day by day more\nuneasy, and at last came to the conclusion that I had come to grief\n(Illust. 234).\n\nOn October 29, 1907, Gulam Razul's mules arrived, and were subjected to\na thorough inspection. They were in splendid condition--small, sturdy,\nand sleek animals from Lhasa, accustomed to rarefied air, and, according\nto the owner, capable of enduring hardships of every kind. Gulam Razul\neven offered to buy them back at the price I paid, if they returned\nalive. I paid for all the twenty 1780 rupees. I still possessed five of\nmy own animals, after a small white mule had been torn to pieces by\nwolves in Gartok. A whole pack had attacked our last six animals, the\ncamp watchman had been unable to drive the wolves away, and the mule had\nbeen horribly wounded. He had been seen running before the wolves with\nhis entrails trailing on the ground. The last mule from Poonch still\nsurvived, as well as my little Ladaki grey and one of his fellows, the\nveterans of Leh.\n\n[Illustration: 285. ON THE WAY TO TANKSE.]\n\n[Illustration: 286. IN THE INDUS VALLEY ON THE WAY TO LADAK.]\n\n[Illustration: 287. THE NEW HORSES AND MULES AT DRUGUB.]\n\nGulam Razul also undertook to procure for me fifteen excellent horses\nfrom Ladak at a price of 1500 rupees. The other purchases consisted of:\nbarley for the animals, 60 rupees; rice, 70 rupees; _tsamba_, 125\nrupees; provender sacks, 60 rupees; clothes for the new men, 152 rupees;\nbutter, 80 rupees; tea, 50 rupees; stearin candles and sugar, 104\nrupees; a Lhasa skin coat for myself, 40 rupees; and a sleeping-bag of\nsoft goatskin, also for myself, 25 rupees; in addition there was the\nhire of the pack animals which conveyed my baggage to Leh, 40 rupees,\nand the cost of transporting the newly purchased goods from Leh to\nDrugub, 20 rupees. Eleven men were to be enlisted in Leh, all having\nserved in Hajji Nazer Shah's commercial house and known as honest\nrespectable people. They were to receive 15 rupees a month each,\nthough their usual wages had not been more than 12, and three months'\npay in advance. The caravan bashi was to receive 50 rupees a month and\nbe selected with very great care. My whole debt to Gulam Razul amounted\nto nearly 5000 rupees, for those who had had the trouble of making all\nthese purchases were to receive a douceur over and above. I sent a note\nof hand to Colonel Dunlop Smith, with directions that this sum should be\npaid to Gulam Razul, in order that he might have security if I did not\nreturn from this journey.\n\nOn October 30 Gulam Razul sent his son to Leh to equip the new caravan,\nwhich was to reach Drugub, ready in all particulars, on November 30. For\nthe valuable services rendered me on this occasion Gulam Razul\nafterwards received from H.M. King Gustaf of Sweden the gold medal \"for\ndistinguished service,\" and I recommended him to the Indian Government\nfor the title of honour, Khan Bahadur; of course I based my appeal in\nthis case on the great commercial services he had rendered to the Indian\nEmpire.\n\nIn Gar-gunsa I heard news of a new treaty between Great Britain and\nRussia, which had been concluded in October of this year. \"Great Britain\nand Russia bind themselves not to allow any scientific expedition of any\nkind whatsoever to enter Tibet for the next three years without previous\nagreement, and call upon China to act similarly\" (Illust. 274).\n\nIt seemed as though this clause were especially designed to meet my\ncase. I said not a word to Gulam Razul about it. But I saw that I could\nno longer travel in Tibet as a European. Last year I had been successful\nwhen the political situation was still unsettled, but I had taught both\nthe Chinese and Tibetans a lesson, and shown them that it was possible\nfor a European to travel right across the country. I had also placed a\nweapon in their hands against me. I should not be able to manage it a\nsecond time. Now they would keep their eyes open along the periphery of\nthe inhabited country. I must travel in disguise to attract as little\nattention as possible. Another courier was therefore sent to Leh to\nprocure me a complete Ladaki costume in Mohammedan fashion. Gulam Razul\nalso was of opinion that, considering all circumstances, it would be\nwisest to travel as a merchant. The new caravan leader was to be our\nmaster, while I myself should figure as \"the least of his servants,\" and\nkeep myself out of sight in all negotiations.\n\nThe whole affair was a desperate game, a political and diplomatic game\nof chess, the stakes being my own life or great geographical\ndiscoveries. I, who had hitherto stood on the most friendly and\nconfidential terms with the Tibetans, must now avoid them as enemies. I\nshould not be able to see any Tibetan face to face, and should have to\nconceal my own eyes in order not to be caught. Therefore a large pair of\nround goggles with dark glasses was bought; inside them I fastened\npolished glasses of the strength suited to my sight. My European outfit\nwas restricted as much as was at all possible; the large camera and the\nboat were sent to Leh with my other baggage, and I took with me only a\nsmall Richard's camera.\n\nThe main point was that in inhabited districts I should conduct myself\nwith Oriental self-control and be entirely passive. The outcome of this\nmad plan was to me enshrouded in impenetrable darkness. I only knew that\nI must go northwards from Drugub in the direction of the Karakorum pass,\nthen turn to the east and south-east, and endeavour to cross from\nLemchung-tso the blank space lying to the south of Bower's route in\n1891, and thence continue my journey through the great blank patch on\nthe north of the upper Tsangpo. If I were successful, I would go south\nto India either through Nepal or through Gyangtse, where perhaps I might\nhave an opportunity of meeting Major O'Connor, as I had always wished to\ndo. Gulam Razul advised me to be very cautious, for the Rudok-dzong had\na paid spy in Drugub, who had to report on the movements of Europeans on\nthe English side of the frontier. This spy was one of the most dangerous\nreefs in my fairway; the suspicion of the Tibetans was at once roused\nwhen they found that I had bought twenty mules from Gulam Razul. The\nGarpun sent a messenger to find out what I wanted them for. He was told\nthat they were for a journey to Khotan.\n\nThakur Jai Chand had an excellent _jamadar_ whom he sent to meet the\nbaggage coming from India. At length, in the beginning of November, we\nreceived news that the consignment was coming. Then Robert proposed to\ngo to meet our wished-for guests with some of our new mules. Late on the\nevening of the 6th they all turned up when I was already in bed. They\nwere five policemen from Rampur, one of them suffering from inflammation\nof the lungs and more dead than alive. When Robert met them they were so\nstarved and exhausted that he had first to massage the whole party to\nput new life into them (Illust. 276).\n\nI at once gave orders to light a roaring fire and serve tea. They came\nup with their laden mules, two Mohammedans, three Hindus--all in dark\nblue uniforms with tall blue-and-white turbans, rifles, and bayonets. I\nbade them welcome, thanked them for the excellent way in which they had\nperformed their task, and made their corporal give me an account of\ntheir difficult and trying journey over the Ayi-la. Then they were shown\nto sleeping-places in a tent, and next day I looked through the nine\nchests sent to me by Colonel Dunlop Smith. Three of them contained 6000\nrupees in silver, all of the Queen's reign, none of the King's, for the\nTibetans will not take rupees on which King Edward's face is stamped.\nThe other boxes contained tinned meat of all kinds, preserves,\nchocolate, cheese, cakes and biscuits; cigars, cigarettes and tobacco;\ngold and silver watches, and revolvers with ammunition, for presents;\ncartridges for two of our guns; note-books and map paper; a whole\nlibrary of new novels, including Jack London's _The Call of the Wild_--a\npresent from O'Connor and suitable reading for the adventurous time\nbefore us; an anemometer and a hydrometer, presents from the chief of\nthe Central Meteorological Institute in Simla, Dr. Gilbert Walker; and a\nhost of other necessary and acceptable articles. The amiable Colonel,\nhis equally amiable sister, and his daughter, had had no end of trouble\nin selecting and purchasing the things, packing them up and\ntransmitting them to Tibet. It was owing to their kindness that I was\nable for a long time to live like a prince, and I cannot be sufficiently\ngrateful to them.\n\nNow I had nothing more to wait for. The policemen were well paid, and I\nalso bore the expense of their return journey and gave them winter\nclothing; took a hearty farewell of my sincere friend Gulam Razul,\nwithout whose help the new journey would have been impossible; thanked\nThakur Jai Chand and the other Hindus for their kindness, and started\noff on November 9, 1907, north-westwards along the course of the upper\nIndus.\n\nOn the 26th we reached Tankse, where the dignitaries of the district and\neven the _tesildar_ of Leh came to meet us. They had already heard that\nI intended to travel to Khotan in midwinter. The following day was to be\na day of rest, for here I was to discharge all my old servants except\nRobert and the Gurkha, Rub Das. When I had breakfasted, Tsering carried\nout the plates and dishes, which now had many chips out of their enamel.\n\"This is the last time, Tsering, that you will wait on me.\" Then the old\nman began to weep, and hurried out quickly.\n\nThen I summoned all the men to my tent and made them a speech, telling\nthem that they had served me faithfully and obediently, and had well\nearned the comfort and repose that awaited them by their domestic\nhearths in the bosom of their families. I wished them good fortune and\nprosperity in the future, and reminded them of the loss we had all\nsustained by the death of Muhamed Isa--good old Muhamed Isa, who, when\nwe were last at Tankse, had made all arrangements so cleverly and\nconscientiously. And to show them that we were not the only ones who\nmourned for him, I read them what Younghusband, O'Connor, and Rawling\nhad written to me about the deceased.\n\n[Illustration: 288. ROBERT IN WINTER DRESS.]\n\nWhile their five horses and five yaks were being loaded with all their\nbelongings, they came to me in my tent, one after another, to receive\ntheir pay and an extra present. Tsering, Rehim Ali, Shukkur Ali, and\nTundup Sonam received especial gifts of money, the latter three\nhaving exposed themselves to danger on my account. Old Tsering asked\nto be allowed to keep the lame dog from the Ngangtse-tso; its bark\nbefore his hut in Leh would remind him of the time when the dog kept\nwatch at our camp-fires. Shukkur Ali kept another dog from the same\ncountry. Now I had only the brown puppy, which, with Robert and the mule\nfrom Poonch, were among the oldest veterans of the caravan, all three\nhaving accompanied me from Srinagar.\n\nAnd then came the bitter moment of parting. So much grief, such loud\nweeping! They could hardly tear themselves away. The _tesildar_ was\nquite overcome at witnessing the deep attachment of my simple followers.\nThe bonds were strong that were now torn asunder, for there is nothing\nwhich knits men together so firmly as common sufferings and dangers. I\nmyself felt a catch in my throat, and, as the men reluctantly followed\ntheir yaks down the road to Drugub, I stood and watched them until they\nwere out of sight. Then I dried my eyes before going into my tent, where\nRobert and the _tesildar_ were waiting for me with tea and cakes served\nup by Rub Das. I could not help thinking of a funeral repast after an\ninterment, at which a wreath of violets had been laid on the grave of a\ndeparted friend.\n\nNext morning I awoke to new surroundings. All my old companions were\nscattered to the four winds, and now they were gone all seemed empty and\ndeserted. Robert read off the meteorological instruments as usual, and\nRub Das laid my breakfast as noiselessly as an elf. I was glad that in\nspite of everything I felt not the slightest irresolution. The same\nangel who had protected me on my former journey would again attend my\nsteps. I seemed to hear once more in the distance the rustle of his\nwings in the cold winter nights on the Chang-tang.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LV\n\nA NEW CHAPTER\n\n\nAs soon as we were ready we mounted our horses and rode down to Drugub.\nSoon the old village came in sight with the house in which I had dwelt\nsix years before, and the garden in which we had halted in the year\n1906. On a terrace below the village stood our three tents and a fourth.\nThe _jamadar_ Ishe, old Hiraman, who never omitted to greet me, and\nyoung Anmar Ju, another of my old friends, salaamed and presented to me\nmy new men. These three had orders from the _tesildar_ to accompany me\nto Shyok.\n\n\"Who is the caravan bashi?\" I asked.\n\n\"I am,\" answered a little wrinkled old man called Abdul Kerim, and\nwearing a large yellow skin-coat (Illust. 289).\n\n\"What are the names of the others?\"\n\n\"Kutus, Gulam, Suen, Abdul Rasak, Sedik, Lobsang, Kunchuk, Gaffar,\nAbdullah, and Sonam Kunchuk.\"\n\n\"You are then eleven men altogether--three Lamaists and eight\nMohammedans?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sahib.\"\n\n\"I shall at some future time take down your names, ages, places of\nabode, the journeys you have made, the services you have been in, etc.\"\n\nIt turned out that very few of them had ever been in the service of a\nEuropean, but all had been employed by Nazer Shah, and his son Gulam\nRazul answered for them. Four had been in Lhasa, and almost all the\nMohammedans in Yarkand, and all seemed pleasant and cheerful, and were\nin the prime of life.\n\n[Illustration: 289. ABDUL KERIM, THE NEW CARAVAN LEADER.]\n\n\"Which of you is my cook?\"\n\n\"I am,\" answered Gulam, a comical little fellow, who immediately\nreceived a lecture from Rub Das how I was to be attended on (Illust.\n291).\n\n\"Are you all Ladakis?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sahib, all except Lobsang, who is a Tibetan from Gar-gunsa, but\nhas married in Leh and has served with the Hajji Nazer Shah.\"\n\nI was somewhat loath to take a Tibetan with me on a journey where it was\nessential to keep the Tibetans as long as possible in the dark. If\ndanger threatened, how easily he could betray me to his countrymen! I\nconsidered whether I would not exchange him for another man, or simply\nleave him behind. But how often had I reason subsequently to rejoice\nthat I had not given effect to the suggestion! With the exception of the\nfour Russian cossacks and Robert, Lobsang was the best servant who ever\naccompanied me on my journeys through the wilds of Asia. He was a\nsplendid man, and I cherish a warm recollection of him (Illust. 290).\n\nAll were now welcomed into my service, and I expressed the hope that\nthey would perform their duty as faithfully as their predecessors,\npromised them an extra donation of 50 rupees each if I were contented\nwith them, and told them that I would pay the expenses of their return\nhome from the point where our journey ended, just as I had done before.\nWhen it was known in Leh that I wanted fresh servants for the journey to\nKhotan, Guffaru and all the men I had sent home from Tokchen presented\nthemselves and begged earnestly to be restored to my service. But the\nold Hajji had received strict directions from his son. Not one of my old\nservants might accompany me this time, for it would increase the danger\nif we met Tibetans with whom we were already acquainted.\n\nThe new horses seemed fine and strong, and stood, eating hay and barley,\nin a long row along a wall, beside the mules and the veterans from Leh.\nThey were to be well fed, for the days of feasting would soon be over,\nand it would be well if they put on flesh, on which they could fall back\nin evil days. All the goods ordered were of the best quality, and\npacked in new strong boxes covered with leather (Illust. 287).\n\nOn the morning of November 29, 1907, three Tibetans came from\nRudok-dzong and set up their tents on our left wing. There, I thought,\nnow espionage is beginning. An hour later we heard the sound of bells up\nin the valley. The noise became louder and louder between the cliffs,\nand a great din was raised as thirty-four fine little mules with loads\nof salt passed by my tent. All had a chain of small bells round their\nnecks, most of them were adorned with red and blue ribands, and some had\nlarge red tassels hanging at their chests, which almost touched the\nground and swung about at every step. It was a bright and lively scene,\nand the jingle of bells allured me out to fresh adventures in distant\nregions. In the twinkling of an eye the animals were relieved of their\nloads and driven up the valley like a herd of wild asses, to graze on\nthe scanty grass among the granite. The owners must then be traders.\nThey afterwards came into my tent, took tea and cigarettes, and asked\nAbdul Kerim whither we were travelling. He answered without lying, \"To\nKhotan.\" It was I who lied. But had I told the truth, I should have been\nstopped in fourteen days, and might as well have gone home at once.\n\nWe had three new tents. The two larger accommodated my eleven servants;\nthe smallest, which was so small that one could only stand upright under\nthe ridge-pole, and could only hold a bed and two boxes, was mine. I\nwished to have one as small as possible that it might more easily be\nkept warm. All my baggage was re-packed. I gave some superfluous\narticles to Robert and to the Rev. Mr. Peter in Leh. There was a very\nthorough sorting out, and only what was absolutely indispensable was\npacked, filling two boxes, one of which chiefly contained Swedish and\nEnglish books, sent by my sister Alma and Colonel Dunlop Smith. As soon\nas they were read, they would be offered to the winds. When I moved at\nnight into my new tent and laid myself to rest in the large sleeping-bag\nlined with sheep's wool, and covered myself, I was as warm and\ncomfortable as in a bed at home.\n\n[Illustration: 290. LOBSANG; 291. GULAM; 292. KUTUS--MY LAST TRUSTY\nFOLLOWERS.]\n\nGulam Razul's son, Abdul Hai, visited me, and our business matters were\ntransacted with him. Robert remained responsible for my heavy baggage\nuntil he had deposited it in the house of the Hajji Nazer Shah. It\nconsisted of ten regulation horse-loads. In my leisure hours I wrote a\nheap of letters, which Robert was to hand in at the post-office in Leh.\n\nWe had now 21 mules and 19 horses, the brown puppy, and a large yellow\ndog from Gartok. All the mules and horses, except mine and Abdul Kerim's\nsaddle-horses, carried loads (Illusts. 296, 297, 298). I rode my little\nwhite Ladaki, which had grown marvellously strong again, and was as\nspirited as one of the new horses. He and two others were the survivors\nof the large caravan which had, on the former occasion, set out from\nLeh. In order to make sure that Abdul Kerim took sufficient provender, I\ntold him he must not think that I would follow the direct road like\nordinary caravans. I might make excursions right and left, and often\nremain stationary for a week at a time. He must, therefore, provide\nbarley for the animals for two-and-a-half months, and he must take care\nthat the provender we took with us lasted out. But it is stupid to trust\nto others. All the heavy baggage from Simla, the silver money, and the\ntinned provisions made four loads; Gulam's chests of kitchen utensils,\ntwo; the tent, the bedding, and the belongings of the men made several\nloads; all the other animals were to be laden with rice, barley, and\n_tsamba_. We also took 25 sheep from Tankse.\n\nIn the night of December 3 the thermometer fell to -10.1\u00b0. Next morning\nall the baggage was packed up and carried down the valley to Shyok by\ncoolies. Two fellows, as strong as bears, carried my two tent-boxes. The\nanimals carried only their new saddles. One group after another marched\noff, and at last I remained alone. Then I shook hands with my faithful\ncompanion, Robert, thanked him for his invaluable services, his honesty,\nhis courage, and his patience; asked him to greet for me the\nmissionaries, Dr. Neve, and warm India; took leave also of honest Rub\nDas and all the others; mounted into my new Ladak saddle on my trusty\nwhite, and rode down to the Shyok valley with Anmar Ju. I was the last\nremaining of the original caravan, and was surrounded by men who were\ncomplete strangers to me. But I was also strange to them, and they had\nno suspicion of the foolhardy adventures I intended to lead them into.\nThe wind, however, was the same, and the same stars would twinkle in the\nsky during the cold silent nights in Tibet. So I should not be quite\nalone.\n\nIt is little more than 6 miles to Shyok, and yet this short distance\ntook almost eight hours. We had to cross the river six times, which just\nbelow the village of Drugub has cut a deep narrow passage between rocks\nof granite and gneiss. The first crossing was easy, for there the river\nhad been frozen over in the night, and though the ice cracked, we passed\nover by a path strewn with sand. At the second passage the river was\nopen, but broad and shallow, and the ice belts on both sides had been\nstrewn with sand. The third, where we had to cross over again to the\nright bank, was very awkward, because ice belts suddenly ending in the\nmiddle were flooded in consequence of a damming up of the ice lower\ndown. They could not therefore be strewn with sand, and we had to be\ncareful lest we should fall out of the saddle when the horses set their\nfeet down in the water 3 feet deep. It is little more agreeable when he\njumps up on the opposite edge, and his hoofs slide about before he can\nget a firm foothold on the smooth ice.\n\nBelow this place was the fourth crossing--the worst of all--and here the\nwhole train had come to a halt. On the right bank, where we stood, the\nriver was broad and deep, with icy cold, dark-blue, transparent water\nwinding down, but at the left bank lay a broad belt of ice. Suen, a\ntall, black-bearded man with very Jewish features, bared his body and\nexamined the ford on horseback. In so doing he got into water so deep\nthat his horse began to swim. Then he jumped in himself and swam to the\nedge of the ice, where it cost him great effort to climb up. Poor man! I\nshivered as I looked at him; he had been quite under water.\n\n[Illustration: 293. BEGGARS.]\n\n[Illustration: 294. ABDUL KERIM'S NEW TENT.]\n\nFour of the others made an attempt a little higher up, and got over, but\nthey were up to their necks in water. Then the whole troop of mules and\nhorses were driven into the river; the horses managed best. One mule, I\nfelt sure, would be lost. He made no attempt to hoist himself on to the\nice until he had been pelted with stones from our bank. And when at\nlength he was up and was following the track of the others, the ice\ncracked and gave way under him, and there he lay enclosed. All five men\nhad to pull him out and drag him over the ice to solid ground.\n\nBarely 100 yards farther down is the fifth ford. Between the two stands\na steep, smooth, projecting rock, its foot washed by the river. It is,\nhowever, possible to climb over the rock up small fissures and over\nslight projections and thus avoid the two detestable fords. Here all the\nbaggage was carried over by the coolies, and I myself climbed over the\nrocks barefooted; a short way beyond this crag a strong man carried me\nover smooth flooded ice. Here we had plenty of time for meditation,\nwhile the animals were again driven through such deep water that they\nalmost had to swim. All were wet up to the root of the tail and many had\nwater over their backs. The poor creatures stood together closely in a\ngroup, with pieces of ice hanging from their flanks and knocking\ntogether like castanets. We kindled a fire that the five men who had\nbeen in the water might undress, dry themselves, and change every stitch\nof clothing.\n\nThen we went some distance downstream to a place where the heavy\nprovisions were piled up on the bank, and the poor animals had to enter\nthe icy water before they had got warm again. Here the baggage had to be\ncarried over the river by stark-naked men, who tried with staves in\ntheir hands to keep their equilibrium among the treacherous rounded\nstones in the river bed. An elderly man was seized with cramp when he\nwas half-way across, and could not move a step. Two bold youths jumped\ninto the water and dragged him to land. Two mules, which could not be\ninduced by coaxing or scolding to enter the water, were tugged over with\na rope. I had a guide before my horse, which was wet half-way up the\nsaddle, so that I had to tuck up my legs as high as possible, and in\nthis position it was very difficult to keep my balance, as the horse\nmade unexpected jumps among the blocks. The men raised such a loud\nhurrah that the mountains rang again when I was over the last ford with\na whole skin; a blazing fire prevented any ill effects from my\nfoot-bath. Every man, who came across shivering, dripping, and blue with\ncold, had to sit down immediately by the fire. I could not understand\nwhy they were not frozen to death.\n\nThen we rode in the twilight up and down hill, and it was pitch dark\nbefore a welcome blazing fire showed us that we were near the village of\nShyok. We gathered round it as we came up, and delighted in its\nradiating heat. I could not help consoling myself with the thought that,\nif any pursuers followed me up from the English side, they would at any\nrate get a cold bath before they found me.\n\nIn the night the temperature fell to only 15.4\u00b0, but here we were at a\nheight of only 12,365 feet. We stayed on December 5 in Shyok, to dry the\npack-saddles and give the animals a day's rest after their trying work.\nIn the evening the men held a farewell festival, for Shyok was the last\nvillage in Ladak. As soon as the drums and flutes were heard, all the\nwomen and girls of the country flocked to the dance.\n\nOn December 6 we took leave of our last friends, and marched down the\nslopes to the floor of the Shyok valley, where the altitude is 12,300\nfeet; it was the lowest spot we were in for a long time (Illust. 300.)\nFor from here we mounted northwards up the valley excavated by the great\naffluent of the Indus. There is no road or path to speak of, only\nrubbish and rounded boulders, but the scenery is wonderfully fine, and\ngigantic granite crags tower up on all sides. We crossed the river five\ntimes, which here carries about 420 cubic feet of water and has belts of\nice of varying breadth. A solitary starved wanderer from Yarkand met us,\nand was given a meal of _tsamba_. We pitched our camp among the bushes\nin a bed of sand at Chong-yangal, where I had stayed in the year 1902.\n\nWe were now alone. Only one man not belonging to the caravan was still\nwith us, Tubges of Shyok, who had charge of our sheep during the early\ndays of our journey, especially at the fords. In the evening I had a\nconversation with Abdul Kerim, Kutus, and Gulam. I now told them that I\nwould not travel to Khotan by the ordinary road, because I knew it\nalready. We would strike more to the east, and the sooner we came up on\nto the plateau the better. They replied that Tubges knew the country\nwell. He was called in to the consultation. What if we went through the\nChang-chenmo valley to Pamzal and the Lanak-la? \"No,\" he answered, \"that\nis impossible; one can go as far as Oro-rotse, but there the valley\nbecomes as narrow as a corridor, and ice cascades and boulders cover the\nbottom of the valley. Animals cannot get through even without loads.\" It\nwas then evident that we must continue up the Shyok valley and watch for\nan opportunity of diverging eastwards.\n\nSo on the 7th we went on between grand mountain gables, silent and\nsolemn, like Egyptian pyramids, like cathedrals and fortress towers.\nBetween them detritus cones descend to the valley floor, where their\nbases are eroded by the high water of the summer flood and cut off in\nperpendicular walls. It must be a magnificent spectacle when the turbid\nthundering water rolls down from the melting snow of the Karakorum and\nfills all the valley, making its way with tremendous force to the Indus.\nAn enormous block of perhaps 70,000 cubic feet has fallen down; it has\ncracked in falling, as though a giant had split it with his axe; one\nfancies one can see the gap it has left on the heights above. Four times\nthe path crosses the stream, and the rather narrow opening of the\nChang-chenmo valley is left on the right. We encamped among the dunes of\nKaptar-khane. In the night the temperature fell to 2.5\u00b0.\n\nThe way is terribly trying, nothing but detritus and blocks of grey\ngranite, against which the horses wear out their shoes. Again we crossed\nthe river twice and set up our tents in the oasis Dung-yeilak, where a\nworn-out caravan from Khotan had already settled, and had sent a\nmessenger to Nubra for help, as several of their horses had foundered.\n\nAs long as there was pasturage we could take matters quietly and make\nshort marches. Only too soon the grass would come to an end, and then we\nmust make more haste. So we rested a day when the merchant Muhamed Rehim\nfrom Khotan arrived at the oasis with his caravan. But he only remained\nan hour, for he wanted to reach warmer regions, and was glad to have the\nKarakorum pass behind him. He earnestly advised me to wait till spring,\nfor the snow lay deeper than usual on the pass. One of his caravan men\nalso came to me and gave me a handful of dried peaches. \"Does the Sahib\nremember me?\" he asked. \"Certainly, you are Mollah Shah.\" The good\nfellow, now fifty-seven years old, and with his beard greyer, had never\nvisited his home in Cherchen again since he had left my service in the\nspring of 1902. What a singular wandering life, full of toil and\nadventure, these Asiatics lead! He implored me to engage him again, but\nI told him he ought to be glad to go down into Ladak instead of\nreturning to the frightful pass in the middle of the icy winter. It\nwould certainly have been pleasant to have with me an old tried\ncompanion. But no, he would have been out of place in my Ladaki company.\nMollah Shah told us for our encouragement that a large caravan had lost\nfifty-two horses on the pass, and had been obliged to leave behind the\ngreater part of their goods.\n\nNone of my people knew yet my actual plans. As long as we were on the\ngreat winter route to Eastern Turkestan they must all believe that\nKhotan was my destination. We had also the advantage that all who met us\nwould report in Ladak that they had seen us on the great highway, and\nthus no suspicion would be aroused.\n\n[Illustration: 295. MY BROWN PUPPY WITH MY COOK, TSERING. 296, 297, 298.\nMY WHITE LADAKI HORSE.]\n\nDecember 10. It was colder, the minimum temperature being -2.4\u00b0. My\nCurzon hat was burned in the fire. In its place I put on a large\nskin-cap which Muhamed Isa had sewed together, and wound round it a\npugree as a protection against the sun. Arms of the river with a gentle\ncurrent were covered with glittering ice, but the main stream, now much\nsmaller, was nearly free. At the camp at Charvak a spring brook dashed\ndown the rocks in a tinkling cascade, though the cold did all it could\nto silence it. The animals were driven up the slopes where the grass\nwas better. A huge fire was lighted when the day declined, and a narrow\nsickle of a moon stood in the sky. Where the animals were driven up,\nthere was a thundering fall of stones in the night, and some blocks\nrolled down and lay among our tents. It was a dangerous place.\n\nWe had a cold march on the way to Yulgunluk. When thick snow-clouds\ncover the sky, the wind blows in the traveller's face, and the\ntemperature at one o'clock is 14.9\u00b0, one feels the cold dreadfully, and\nhas to tie a thick neck-cloth over the face. The valley is lifeless and\ndeserted. Hitherto we had only seen a hare, an eagle, and a raven; the\nlast followed us from camp to camp. Six times we crossed the stream; the\nbrown puppy was carried over, but the yellow dog found his way\nacross--he howled piteously whenever he had to go into the cold water.\n\nIn Yulgunluk also, at a height of 13,455 feet, we encamped a day. Now\nthe thermometer fell in the night to -6.2\u00b0. This was the last really\npleasant and agreeable oasis we came across. During the day of rest we\nheard the horses neighing with satisfaction on the pastures and the\nsheep bleating. The loads of provender were already smaller, so we could\nload four horses with good knotty firewood. On the right side of the\nvalley rose a snowy mountain. As early as two o'clock the sun\ndisappeared, but it lighted up the snow long after the valley lay in\ndeep shadow; the sky was blue and cloudless. In the evening the men sang\nat the fire just the same melodies as their predecessors. The winter\ndays are short, but they seem endlessly long to one tortured by the\nuncertainty of his cherished hopes. By eight o'clock the camp is quiet,\nand at nine Gulam brings in the last brazier after I have read the\nmeteorological instruments. How I long to get out of this confined\nvalley on to the plateau country! Here we are marching north-north-west,\nand I ought to be going east and south-east. If we could find a way up\nto the Chang-tang by one of the valleys to the east, we should be saved\nmuch time and many a weary step.\n\nOn December 13 we looked in vain for such a way. We crossed the river\ntwice more on its ice-sheet. At the second ford the whole caravan\npassed over dry-shod, and only my small white horse broke through and I\nwet my feet. After a third crossing we camped in a desolate spot just\nopposite the Shialung valley. It looked promising. Tubges and Kutus were\nsent up the valley to spy out the land. In the evening they returned\nwith the tidings that we could go a fairly long distance up the valley,\nbut beyond it became impassable owing to deep basins, abundant ice, and\nlarge boulders, just as in the Drugub river. We must therefore keep on\nthe route to the Karakorum pass. This increased the risks for the\ncaravan, for it lengthened the distance; but, on the other hand, it\nlessened the danger of discovery, for when once we had got into Tibet we\ncould avoid the most northern nomads.\n\nNow Tubges begged permission to accompany me to the end, and his\npetition was eagerly supported by all the other men. I was the more\nwilling to take him that he was a skilled hunter. I had now twelve men,\nand I made the thirteenth in the caravan. But we were not superstitious.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVI\n\nUP TO THE HEIGHTS OF DAPSANG\n\n\nHeavy clouds and piercingly cold wind increased the difficulty of our\nmarch on December 14 up the valley. We saw two bales of goods, sewed up\nin linen and with the stamp of a Turkestan firm, lying on the ground, as\nthough they had fallen from a dying horse, the carcase of which we had\npassed. Higher up two more. They contained silken materials from Khotan.\nSo far the caravans come with failing strength after excessive exertions\non the pass. They are like ships which must throw their cargo overboard\nwhen they begin to sink. At K\u00f6teklik also we found passable grass and\nfirewood. Gulam is a capital cook; he prepares me the most delicate\ncutlets and rissoles, and for a change gives me chickens and eggs.\n\nOn the 15th there is little water in the valley; it runs under rubbish,\nbut farther up the river is again fresh and clear. We frequently pass\nthe remains of unfortunate caravans--dead horses, bales of goods, and\npack-saddles from which the hay has been removed to save the life of a\ndying horse. We travel west-north-westwards, and therefore ever farther\nfrom our goal. But at length we come to a valley which will lead us in\nthe right direction. We leave the Sasser valley to the left and enter a\nvalley portal full of treacherous ice, often as thin as skin. We wait\ntill our scouts have tried the ice, which they declare to be impassable.\nTubges, however, finds another, longer way, over steep hills, and at\ntheir foot we pitch our camp.\n\nNext morning we went over a steep spur of porphyry to reach a better\nplace on the frozen river which was to afford us an easterly passage up\nto Murgu. We crossed again and again the strip of ice, which was first\nstrewn with sand that the horses might not break their legs. As usual,\ntwo scouts went in advance. One of them came back and called to us from\na distance that a fallen rock closed up the valley. On reaching the spot\nI found that a landslip had lately taken place. The blocks of porphyry\nbarring the channel were as big as houses, and between them the river\nformed deep basins covered with a thin coat of ice. We had therefore to\nturn back and retrace our steps all the way down to camp No. 279, over\nthe terrible rock, which on this side was so steep that each animal had\nto be shoved up separately, and the men had to look out for themselves\nwhen a pack got loose and rolled down the acclivity. Then we went some\ndistance up the Sasser valley. A strong icy wind blew in our faces.\nBeside a wall of rock the dogs put up a hare which took refuge in a\nhole, but Kunchuk pulled him out again and he was condemned to be eaten.\nOur camp this time was in an almost barren place, and after all the\nfording of the river during the day icicles clinked on the flanks of our\nwearied animals.\n\nIt is evening again. The mountain spurs project, dark and rugged, into\nthe valley like huge sarcophagi, and on them rest moon-lighted\nsnowfields like shrouds. The Ladakis sing no more; their ditties are\nfrozen on their lips. It is awfully quiet. The kitchen fire flickers\nwith yellowish-red tongues in the white moonshine. One can almost hear\nthe sound of the frost outside.\n\n[Illustration: 299. PANORAMA FROM CAMP 422, BONGBA.]\n\n[Illustration: 300. PANORAMA FROM CAMP 277, SHYOK VALLEY.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nAfter Gulam has brought in the last brazier I undress myself, put on my\nlarge woollen dressing-gown, set myself a while right over the fire to\nget a little heat into my body before I creep into my lair of fur, and\nsmile to hear the yellow dog, who is lying outside, and barks and snarls\nat the increasing cold in the angriest and most comical tones. No wonder\nhe is enraged, for the thermometer falls in the night to -12.8\u00b0. Then I\nhear a singular squeaking in Gulam's tent. We had already anticipated a\nhappy event, and now I inquired whether there was an addition to the\nPuppy family. Four small puppies had again come into the world. They\nhad waited for the very coldest night we had yet experienced. Gulam had\ncontrived a cage of frieze rugs in which Puppy lay, licking her young\nones. Two of the tiny animals were of the female, two of the male sex;\nthe former were drowned, for we thought that the others would grow\nstronger if they monopolized all the milk and heat that would otherwise\nhave been divided among four. I sat by the hutch and studied the\ninteresting group till I was so stiff with cold that I could hardly walk\nback to my tent. Next morning the tiny curs were going on splendidly;\none of them whined in quite the orthodox fashion, and no doubt thought\nwhat a grim cold country fate had launched him into. We determined to\ntake good care of them, for they would be pleasant companions for me. Up\nhere they would at any rate be immune from the sickness which had\ncarried off their elder sisters. Kunchuk had to carry them against his\nbare skin to keep them warm. Half-way Mamma Puppy was allowed to occupy\nherself for a while with her little ones, though these did not seem\nquite to understand the milk business.\n\nWe had a bad march on December 17. No shouts of encouragement were\nheard, but the caravan moved on slowly and apathetically. Within half an\nhour our feet were benumbed and lost all feeling. I wound the ends of my\n_bashlik_ like a visor several times round my face up to the eyes, but\nthe breath turned it into a thick crust of ice which froze to my\nmoustache and beard, which I had allowed to grow since leaving Gartok to\nsuit my intended Mohammedan disguise. All the men put on their furs.\nDust and soil flew about, and our faces had a singular appearance.\n\nAt a place where a Yarkand caravan was encamped, we turned to the right\nup a very narrow valley, in which the floor, covered with bright\nmilky-white ice, looked like a marble pavement between the rocky walls.\nFortunately the Yarkand men had strewn sand over the ice, but still it\ndid not prevent several of our animals from falling, so that they had to\nbe loaded again.\n\nWhen we at length camped in Long the temperature was at zero even at\nthree o'clock. A second large Yarkand caravan, on the homeward journey,\nwas halting here. The leaders asked us to travel with them over the\nKarakorum, but I refused, with the excuse that we could make only short\nday's marches. Observation by any who might tell the Chinese in Yarkand\nthat I had again passed over into Tibet was exactly what I must avoid\nabove everything.\n\nHere lay a poor man, both of whose feet had been frost-bitten on the\nKarakorum, so that the flesh and toes actually fell off. He crawled up\nto our camp and wept over his disastrous fate. He had been engaged with\nthe Yarkand caravan we had met first, but as he had become incapable of\nwork owing to his wounds, the barbarous merchant had dismissed him in\nthe midst of the wilds and left him behind. In such a case it is hard to\nknow what to do. We could not cure him, and to take him with us or give\nup a part of the caravan for him was out of the question. He said\nhimself that he would crawl to Shyok, but how was he to get across the\nriver? I let him warm himself at our fire, drink tea and eat, and on the\n18th, when we went on after 56\u00bd\u00b0 of frost in the night, I gave him\n_tsamba_ for several days, matches, and a sum of money which would\nenable him to hire a horse from a caravan travelling to Shyok.\n\nThis day's march took us eastwards to a place called Bulak (the spring);\nit should properly have been called Guristan (the graveyard), for here\nlay at least twenty dead horses. During a ride of two hours I had\ncounted sixty-three carcases of horses; it is wonderful that trade on\nthis caravan route, the highest in the world, can be profitable.\n\nFrom there the route ran up the narrow fissured Murgu valley, at first\nup and down over hills, where numbers of dead horses, which had once\nbeen strong and fat, showed us the way. Then we descended a break-neck\npath into the deep valley, where spring water at the bottom formed\ncracked domes of ice. Then on the slopes of the left flank we climbed\nagain up a zigzag path; the snow became deeper and was piled up,\nespecially on the path, so smooth that if the horses had made a false\nstep we should have been lost beyond recovery. The landscape was\nmagnificent, but it could not be properly enjoyed when the temperature\nabout one o'clock was only 0.3\u00b0. And then again we went down headlong to\nthe valley bottom, where we passed over a natural bridge of rock\nimproved by the hand of man. Our direction had been east, but now we\ndiverged more and more to the north and north-west.\n\nThe snow becomes deeper, the sun sinks, the shadows creep up the\nreddish-yellow hills, the wind is stronger, and one thinks: If this\nlasts much longer I shall freeze. At last we halt at the foot of a\nterrace on the right side of the valley, where the sheep are driven into\na cave to keep them warm in the night. I slip down from the saddle with\nall my limbs numbed, and long for a fire. Not a trace of organic life\nwas to be seen at camp No. 283. The horses and mules were tethered so\nthat they stood in a close pack.\n\nAt this unlucky camp I made the first discovery on this new journey\nthrough Tibet. Abdul Kerim came to me at the fire and said:\n\n\"Sahib, we have barley for eight to ten days more; but in that time we\nshall reach Shahidulla, where we can get everything.\"\n\n\"Eight to ten days! Are you mad? Did you not obey my orders? Did I not\ntell you expressly to take barley for 2\u00bd months?\"\n\n\"I brought a supply with me which was enough for the journey to Khotan.\"\n\n\"Did I not tell you that I was not going to Khotan by the ordinary\nroute, but by roundabout ways which would demand at least two months?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sahib, I have acted wrongly,\" answered the old man, and began to\nsob. Abdul Kerim was an honest man, but he was stupid, and he had not\nthe great experience of Muhamed Isa.\n\n\"You are caravan bashi, and the duty of a caravan leader is to see that\nthere is sufficient provender for the journey. When the ten days are\nover, our animals will starve. What do you mean to do then?\"\n\n\"Sahib, send me with some animals to Shahidulla. I can be back again in\na fortnight.\"\n\n\"You know that everything that happens in Shahidulla is reported to the\nAmban of Khotan. The Chinese must know nothing of our intentions.\"\n\nMy first notion was to dismiss Abdul Kerim at once and to write to the\nHajji Nazer Shah for more provender, which might be brought up on hired\nanimals. But what would they think in western Tibet and Ladak if I sent\nfor more provender from Leh when I was barely eight days' journey from\nShahidulla, which lies on the direct road to Khotan? My whole plan would\nbe betrayed and must fail. I should be stopped by the first nomads,\nperhaps by the English whom I had so happily escaped hitherto. It was\nonly necessary to forbid the natives to supply me with provisions and\nbaggage animals. And if I procured all we wanted in Shahidulla, the\nAmban of Khotan would send word to Kashgar, whence a telegraph line runs\nthrough Asia to Pekin, where His Excellency Na Tang proved so absolutely\nimmovable when the Swedish Minister Wallenberg had given himself so much\ntrouble to obtain for me permission for a new journey through Tibet. Up\nhere in this desolate valley my position was strong. We had sneaked\nquietly and cautiously through British territory without exciting\nsuspicion. But as soon as we came into contact with the outer world we\nshould be caught.\n\nI sat in my tent all the evening, considering the matter from all sides,\nand measured the distances on my map with compasses. We were about 100\nmiles from my camp No. 8 of the preceding year, where the grass was so\ngood. So far we could travel without the least difficulty. But beyond we\nhad 430 miles more, to the district on the Tong-tso. However, before we\ncame there we must meet with nomads and grazing land. The horses,\nindeed, would be lost, but the Tibetan mules were, so Gulam Razul said,\naccustomed to shift for themselves, and they were not given barley. The\nfirst step was to reach the free open Chang-tang and get out of this\nfrightful mousetrap, the Shyok valley, which was always taking us\nfurther north-north-west. Even if we had to sacrifice everything and\ncreep on all fours to the nearest tent, I would not give in: I would\nnot depart a hair's breadth from the original plan.\n\nNight came with a clear sky, twinkling stars and sharp frost; by nine\no'clock the temperature was down to -20.4\u00b0. The animals stood quietly\ncrowded together to keep themselves warm. When I awoke occasionally I\ndid not hear them, and they might have vanished. The minimum was reached\nat -31.2\u00b0. When I was awakened, Kutus had been out on the prowl into a\nbroad valley, coming in from the east, and had found a road which, as\nfar as he could see, was excellent. We had still two days' journey from\ncamp No. 283 to the dreaded Karakorum pass, which I wished to avoid. If\nwe ascended the side valley eastwards, we should soon arrive at the main\ncrest of the Karakorum range and be spared two days' journey. I resolved\nto try it.\n\nSo we travelled on December 20 to the east-north-east over crunching\nsnow. The valley looked very promising, especially as old horse tracks\ncould be seen in some places. In the middle of the valley was the bed of\na brook covered over with smooth, treacherous ice, but elsewhere there\nwas nothing but detritus. After we had passed a hill thickly overgrown\nwith _burtse_ tufts, all vegetation ceased. At one o'clock the\ntemperature was -5.8\u00b0. My beard was white with rime, my face-cloth\nturned into a mass of ice, and all the animals were white. For hours we\nslowly mounted upwards. In some places the valley was so contracted that\nit was only 2 yards broad. The best of the day was over when the caravan\nsuddenly came to a halt. All was quiet in the front, and I waited with\nKutus for whatever was to happen.\n\nAfter a time came Abdul Kerim, much cast down, with the news that the\nvalley was impassable at two places. I went to look. The first barrier\nof rocks might be forced, but the second was worse. We could certainly\nhave dragged the baggage over the ice between and under the blocks, but\nthere was no passage for the animals. Should we try to make a road along\nwhich the animals could be helped over the blocks by the united strength\nof the men? Yes; but first men must be sent up to find out whether\nthere were more of such barriers to cross. When they came back with the\nnews that the way was still worse above, I gave orders to pitch the\ncamp, as the shades of evening were falling.\n\nGood heavens, what a camp! Not a blade of grass, not a drop of water!\nAgain we sat in a mousetrap between steep mountain walls, where, at any\nmoment, devastating blocks might be detached from the sides by the\nfrost. The horses scraped about in the snow looking for grass. During\nthe night they roamed about, and stumbled over the tent ropes. The\nthermometer fell to -30.6\u00b0. One puppy lost his way, got outside, and\ncame of his own accord into my tent; fortunately for him I was awakened\nby his whining, and gave him shelter in my bed, where he was warm and\ncomfortable.\n\nA frosty morning! we must take care not to touch metal, for it burns\nlike fire. A mule made his way into my tent and looked for something\nedible in my washing-basin. To his great astonishment it stuck to his\nnose, and he took it a few steps with him. The hungry animals had\nconsumed two empty sacks and six ropes during the night, and played the\nmischief with one another's tails. In winter, life up here is a\ndesperate struggle with the frost.\n\nThe orders for the day were to encamp in a place where there were stalks\nof _yapchan_ and _burtse_, and remain there all the next day. I set out\nat a temperature of -23.8\u00b0 and found the camp all ready on the right\nside of the valley. The animals were immediately sent up the slopes, and\nthere grazed with a good appetite on the dry frozen stalks. During the\nday of rest, pieces of ice were hewn out of the brook and melted in the\ntwo large kettles of the men. Horses and mules were then able to drink\ntheir fill.\n\nIn the night a most welcome change took place in the weather, the whole\nsky was overcast, and the thermometer fell only to 1\u00b0; it felt quite\nwarm in the morning. Some mules had stampeded, but Lobsang found them\nafter a diligent search. I set out with Kutus soon after the caravan. We\nhad not gone far when we saw Muhamed Isa's white Shigatse horse lying\nfrozen stiff in the snow. He had been in a wretched state for some\ndays, and the last hardships had been too much for him. Worn-out and\nemaciated he really needed a long, long rest.\n\nAfter a while we passed the valley junction and the unlucky camp No.\n283, and were again on the great caravan route, the road of dead horses.\nFour lay in a ravine quite close together, as though they did not wish\nto part even in death. A large dapple-grey showed no change, but another\nhorse looked as if it were stuffed, and a third, with its outstretched\nlegs, resembled an overturned gymnasium horse. Some were nearly covered\nwith snow, and others had fallen in a curious cramped position, but most\nof them lay as though death had surprised them when they were composing\nthemselves to rest after violent exertion. Nearly all were hollow: the\nhide was stretched over the backbone and ribs, and they looked intact\nfrom the back, but on the other side it could be seen that they were\nonly empty, dry skeletons, hard as iron, which rattled when the yellow\ndog, who had nothing else to eat on the way, pulled them about. The dogs\nbarked at the first carcases, but soon they became familiar with the\nsight of them. What sufferings and what desperate struggles for life\nthese dreary mountains must have witnessed in the course of time! Lying\nawake at night one fancies one hears the sighs of worn-out pack animals\nand their laboured breathing as they patiently go towards their end, and\nsees an endless parade of veterans condemned to die who can endure no\nmore in the service of cruel man. When the dogs bark outside in the\nsilent night they seem to bark at ghosts and apparitions who try with\nhesitating steps to make their way out of the snowfields that hold them\nfast, and intervene between them and the juicy meadows of Ladak. If any\nroad in the world deserves the name \"Via dolorosa,\" it is the caravan\nroad over the Karakorum pass connecting Eastern Turkestan with India.\nLike an enormous bridge of sighs it spans with its airy arches the\nhighest mountain-land of Asia and of the world.\n\nHigher and higher our slow train ascends the fissured valley where here\nand there small glacier tongues peep out between the steep crags.\nFrequently old camping-places are seen with ripped-up pack-saddles.\nHurricanes from the south prevail here; fine red dust from weathered\nsandstone flies like clouds of blood through the valley and colours the\nsnowfields red. The valley shrinks to a hollow way where a somewhat more\nsheltered spot bears the name \"Daulet Bek ulldi\" (where Daulet Bek\ndied). Who was he? No one knows; but the name has remained. Probably an\nordinary trader from Khotan or Yarkand, or a pilgrim who died on his\nwanderings, and therefore found the doors of paradise wide open. For\nover the Karakorum pass runs the main pilgrim route from Eastern\nTurkestan to Mecca.\n\nThe valley becomes ever smaller--a mere corridor between walls of red\nconglomerate. This is the Kizil-unkur, or the Red Hole, an appropriate\nname. Here the caravan has pitched its camp. Not a sign of organic life.\nThe animals stand in a group, and the mules gnaw at the frozen dung of\nformer visitors. From this hole the way rises up to the Dapsang plateau,\nwhere a snowstorm is now raging, and even in the valley flakes of snow\ndance and whirl in the air. In the twilight Tundup Sonam comes up with\nonly twelve sheep; the others have been frozen to death on the way.\nNight falls threatening and awful on the everlasting snow. Everything up\nhere is so dreary and cold (16,824 feet); there is nothing living far\nand wide, and yet the yellow dog fills the ravine with his barking.\n\nThe men set up the tents near together, and a very scanty fire burned\namong them, for we had to be economical with the firewood from K\u00f6teklik.\nThe Mohammedans started a low charming song in rising and falling tones,\nand now and then a strong voice intoned a hollow \"Allahu ekber.\" When\nGulam came with the brazier I asked him what it meant, and he said that\nit was a _namas_ or hymn of prayer to Allah, that the Most High might\nprotect us in the morning from the snowstorm. For if a caravan is caught\nin a snowstorm on the heights of Dapsang it is lost.\n\nI often heard this melodious hymn again in days of hardship, and it\nalways affected me painfully. Not as the reproachful warning clang of\nchurch bells ringing for service, when I pass a church door without\ngoing in, but because the men sang the hymn only when they were out of\nspirits and considered our position desperate. It seemed as though they\nwould remind me that defeat awaited me, and that this time I had aimed\ntoo high.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVII\n\nON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD\n\n\nOn Christmas Eve 1905 I had dined with Mr. and Mrs. Grant Duff in the\nhospitable English Embassy, and on another day supped with Count\nd'Apchier in the French Legation, and was invited to a reception by\nCount Rex in the German Embassy,--all in Teheran, now in such a\ndisturbed state. The same day twelve months later I had still Muhamed\nIsa and Robert with me, and we were in inhabited country. Little I\ndreamt now that old Asia would demand still another Christmas Eve in my\nlife, and that on December 24, 1908, I should sit at table amid a circle\nof pleasant and intelligent Japanese in distant Mukden, where a few\nyears before the thunders of war had rolled above the graves of the\nManchurian emperors. But this year, 1907, I was quite alone, and with\ntwelve satellites on the way to my--Ukraine.\n\nIn the morning with a bright sun and calm weather the caravan marched\nslowly up towards the heights of Dapsang, while Kutus and I followed in\nthe crunching snow. I had given Abdul Kerim orders to wait at the top.\nAfter I had read the instruments and found a height of 17,808 feet, I\nscoured the horizon with my field-glass--a confusion of snowy mountains.\nOnly to the north-east a broad erosion furrow sloped gently down, and I\nchose that direction.\n\n\"Now we leave the Karakorum route and ride eastwards,\" I said; \"follow\nmy track; I will ride in front.\" The men stared in astonishment; they\nhad looked forward to the gardens and vineyards of Khotan, and I offered\nthem the granite and snowstorms of Chang-tang. They said nothing,\nhowever, but silently and patiently followed in my footsteps. It was not\neasy to lead the way, for the country was covered with deep snow. I\ndirected Kutus, and he went before my horse to test the depth. The\nground was quite level, but contained hollows where the snow lay 3 to 6\nfeet deep; and the crust was exceedingly treacherous, for sometimes it\nbroke, and I was thrown out of the saddle, while the horse plunged and\nfloundered like a dolphin, and was almost suffocated in the fine dry\nsnow. We therefore turned back to try another direction.\n\nLobsang, who was always on the alert when we were in a critical\nsituation, was already looking for a better way. But we must in any case\ncross the valley, and the men tramped out a furrow in the snow, through\nwhich the animals were led one at a time. The horses managed best, while\nthe mules often fell and caused long delays. How far would this snow\nextend? It checked our progress and concealed any wretched pasture that\nmight exist in some ravine. We crawled on like snails. I went on foot,\nand my skin coat felt as heavy as lead. But after several hours of hard\ntoil we reached the terrace skirting the right side of the valley, where\nthe snow was thinner and we made more progress.\n\nCamp No. 287 was in the most desolate spot I can remember in all my\ntravels, except the sandy sea of the Takla-makan desert. Behind us our\ntrail wound through the white snow and in front all was snow. The\nanimals were tethered close together, and they had a feed of corn in the\nevening.\n\nAfter the day's work was over I lighted two candles--usually I had but\none--and set up the portraits of my family on a box, as I had often done\nbefore on Christmas Eves in Asia. At half-past eight o'clock the moon\nrose gloriously over the mountains to the east-north-east, and at nine\nthe thermometer had sunk to -16.8\u00b0. I could not get the temperature\nabove -4\u00b0 in my tent, and my hands were so benumbed that I could not\nhold a book, but had to crawl into bed, which was the best thing to\ndo--there one forgets Christmas with all its precious memories and its\nmelancholy solitude.\n\nThe thermometer sank to -37.5\u00b0. A horse lay frozen hard in his place in\nthe line; the others stood stupefied, with drooping heads, and great\nicicles on their noses. Christmas Eve brought us good weather. I almost\nlonged for a snowstorm. We had no fear of pursuit, but if a Turkestan\ncaravan now went down to Kizil-unkur, the men would see our trail in the\nsnow and report that we were off to Tibet. A snowstorm would obliterate\nall traces.\n\nMeanwhile we stumbled on eastwards through the snow. A spring supplied\nwater where all the animals got a drink. We halted in a ravine with\ntufts of _yapchan_ (17,087 feet). The animals made greedily for the dry\nhard stalks, which also provided us with a grand fire, and this evening\nit was warm and comfortable in my tent. I rejoiced to think that the\ndays would again become longer, and subtracted the length of each day's\nmarch from the distance between us and the Tong-tso. Ah, would we were\nthere! And there we should be only on the northern margin of the blank\nspace. What an immensely long way we had to travel!\n\nNext day we followed the same flat valley eastwards between mountains of\nmoderate height, making use of a path worn down by Pantholops antelopes.\nThe snow became less deep and was only occasionally troublesome, usually\ncovered with a crust as dry as parchment. When we had encamped in a\nperfectly barren spot, I consulted with Abdul Kerim. Only two sacks of\nbarley were left. I saw that he had been weeping, and therefore I\nrestrained my wrath. The others, too, were astonished and doleful. I had\nnot yet said anything to them, but they understood that there was no\nquestion of Khotan. The men had _tsamba_ for nearly three months and\nrice for two. I therefore ordered that some should be given to the\nhorses when the barley was finished, but enough should be left for the\nmen to last two months. The others gathered outside the tent during the\nconsultation. Lobsang was calm and unconcerned, and could be heard\nsinging and whistling as he watched the animals. I took to him most,\nperhaps because he was a Tibetan; but I liked them all, for they were\ncapital fellows. In the evening they sang hymns to Allah, knowing that\nour situation was exceedingly critical.\n\nNext day we started early, and I rode at the head of the caravan. We all\nhad severe headaches, but the height was enormous (17,644 feet). We had\nmarched little more than a mile when we found sparse grass in a slight\nhollow on the northern slopes. That was a Christmas box. Here we pitched\nour camp. The animals ran up to the pasture with their loads on. How\nthey ate! It was a pleasure to see them. Suen cut ridiculous capers\nbetween the tents. The men were in high spirits. I heard no more hymns\nto Allah, but the caravan bashi, who seemed to think he was in some\ndegree responsible for the spiritual welfare of all the Mohammedans,\nusually read every evening at sunset one of the five daily prayers. Our\nsupply of fuel was at an end, but Lobsang found a hard moss which burned\nfor a long time and gave out plenty of heat. Now I perceived that when\nwe should some time part, I should miss Lobsang most.\n\nOn December 28, leaden clouds lay over the earth, and therefore the cold\nwas less severe. We continued our course eastwards, and marched slowly\ntill we came to a spring, which at the orifice had a temperature of\n33.6\u00b0. The water felt quite warm; it formed large cakes of ice in the\nflat valley, which looked from a distance like a lake. While the men set\nup the tents here, Puppy, as usual, took charge of her young ones in a\nfolded piece of felt. One of them had a white spot on the forehead and\nwas my especial favourite, for he never whined unnecessarily. To-day he\nhad opened his eyes and given a short glance at the cold inhospitable\nworld around him. However, before my tent was ready, he died quite\nsuddenly, and was buried under some stones that the yellow dog might not\neat him up. Mamma Puppy looked for him, but soon contented herself with\nthe last of the four. We would do all we could to keep this little\ncreature.\n\nOn the way to the next camping-place, No. 292, we still followed the\nsame blessed valley which had afforded us such an excellent route since\nChristmas Eve. The minimum temperature had fallen to -21.8\u00b0, as though a\ncold wave were passing over the country. At one place some wild yaks had\nleft their visiting cards, and the men collected a sack of dung.\nEvidently these animals come hither only in summer; the winter is too\ncold even for them. A mule died before we reached a spring surrounded by\nfair grazing. So far we had got on well, but had made little progress;\non the past six days we had covered only 47 miles.\n\nDecember 30. With a minimum of zero and a temperature at one o'clock of\n3.2\u00b0 the range between day and night is not great. But now the sky was\ncovered with dense clouds; it snowed and became half dark; the men could\nnot tell in which direction they were marching, and asked where the sun\nrose. We had the help of the longitudinal valley for another day's\njourney, and we followed it down to a junction of valleys where there\nwas a huge sheet of ice. On the way I saw a flock of twenty-two wild\nsheep, which fled with great agility up a slope of detritus, bringing\nthe stones rattling down.\n\nIn the evening I informed Abdul Kerim, Gulam, and Kutus that we were to\nadvance into Tibet and steer our course past the Arport-tso to the upper\nBrahmaputra. And I told them that I should travel in disguise in order\nto escape notice. They were amazed, and asked if I should not expose my\nlife to danger daily; but I calmed them, saying that all would go well\nif they only obeyed my orders implicitly. Our chief concern was to\npreserve our animals, for if the caravan were lost we should never get\non. \"Yes,\" answered the caravan bashi, \"if we only find good pasture, so\nthat the animals can rest and eat their fill, we can certainly hold out\nfor two months, but they will not bear long marches.\"\n\nHere we stood at a parting of the roads. Our valley opened into another,\nwhich came down from high mountains in the south, part of the Karakorum\nrange. The united streams continued their course northwards, and could\nnot be any other river but the upper course of the Karakash Darya; in\nits lower valley on the Khotan Darya I had many years before almost\nlost my life. Now the question was whether we should go up or down, and\nwe decided to devote the last day of the year to finding out which was\nthe better road, sending out Abdullah to reconnoitre south-eastwards,\nTubges north-eastwards. As in any case we should have to cross the ice\nsheet, a path was sanded.\n\nWe packed the 6000 rupees Colonel Dunlop Smith had sent from India in\ntwo sacks, which were lighter than the wooden boxes, and these were to\nbe used as firewood some time when all else failed. At every camp our\nbaggage became lighter, as our provisions diminished, and I threw away\none book after another after I had read them. I had received from home\nthe numbers of a Swedish journal for half a year, and these were very\nuseful in lighting our camp-fires. We had still nine sheep left, but the\ntime was fast approaching when our meat supply would come to an end, for\nwe could hardly reckon on finding game so soon.\n\nNew Year's Day 1908 was bright and sunny--a good omen as regarded the\ndark riddles this year concealed. The two scouts returned with the same\nreport: that there were no obstacles in the way; and I let them discuss\nthe question themselves, and decide which way was the best. They chose\nAbdullah's route, which led up the valley south-eastwards. The road here\nwas excellent. At the mouth of the valley we found a couple of small\nround stone walls, which, however, might very well have been a hundred\nyears old. The sight of a dead yak had an enlivening effect on us,\ncontradictory as it may sound. Higher we mounted to where a lofty snow\nmountain with glaciers could be seen at the end of the valley. Then we\nstopped, and scouts were sent forwards. They declared that the way was\nimpassable, and voted that Abdullah should be thrashed. But as such\nmeasures would have been of no use to us in our difficulty he got off\nwith a good scolding. He admitted that he had not been so far up as we\nwere now, yet on his return he had asked for, and been given, a bit of\ntobacco for his reconnoitring work. I told him that he had done a mean\ntrick, and that he should never see the smoke of my tobacco again.\n\n\nThere was nothing to do but pitch our camp. A strong south-west wind\nblew, and fine snow was driven down from all the crests and summits.\nWhen the men went out to gather fuel they looked like Polar explorers.\nAfter all, New Year's Day had brought us no good luck, but, on the\ncontrary, a retreat.\n\nThis was commenced early on the morning of January 2, and we passed\nagain camp 293, and marched onwards over slopes of detritus on the\neastern side of the ice sheet. At one spot spring water formed a little\nbubbling fountain in the midst of the ice. After the valley had turned\nto the east-north-east we encamped in a corner where driftsand was piled\nup into hillocks.\n\nI wanted to get out of this labyrinth of mountains and valleys which\npour their waters into Eastern Turkestan. We were still in the basin of\nthe Karakash river, and must sooner or later cross a pass separating it\nfrom the salt lakes of the Chang-tang. On the 3rd we again mounted up\none of the head valleys and camped in its upper part, while the country\nwas enveloped in a furious snowstorm. It continued till late in the\nevening, and what was most remarkable was that the stars shone all the\ntime though the snow was falling thickly. Before, there had been\nblue-black clouds above us without a snowflake. Extraordinary land!\n\nNext day we rested. The animals had been without drink for a long time,\nfuel was abundant, ice was taken from the river bed and melted in pots.\n\nIn this region the mountains are less continuous, and form sharp peaks\nand pyramids of small relative height. It snowed all night, but the\nmorning of January 5 was fine as we travelled eastwards along the route\nKutus had investigated. It led up over snow-covered ground to a small\npass (17,995 feet), on the other side of which another branch of the\nKarakash crossed our course. We must get out of this entanglement, which\ndelayed our march and told on our strength. As long as the animals kept\nup we had nothing to complain of. I was glad of every day that brought\nus a little nearer to spring and out of the winter's cold. It penetrated\nthrough everything. My feet had no feeling in them. Gulam rubbed them\nand massaged me in the evening over the fire, but could not bring them\nto life. The ink was turned into a lump of ice and had to be thawed\nbefore the fire; when I wrote I had to bend over the brazier, and still\nthe ink congealed in the pen and froze on the paper. Singularly enough I\nhave still an unquenchable desire for ice-cold water and prefer it to\nwarm tea, but the water we usually get is far from pleasant. It is\ngenerally Tubges who takes a spade and fills an empty sack with snow,\nand then melts it in a kettle. Gulam tries to persuade me to drink tea,\nand cannot understand how it is that I am not sick of water. It is no\nuse being thirsty in the night: a cup of water standing near the brazier\nis frozen to the bottom in a quarter of an hour.\n\nAfter a temperature of -28\u00b0 and a stormy night, which drove the animals\nto seek shelter in the men's tent, we crossed the broad valley up to the\nnext pass. We left a lofty snow-covered mountain to the south. At the\nfoot of a hill a wild yak was musing. When he saw our dark train against\nthe white snow he made straight towards us, but before long he took his\nway through the valley and dashed in wild flight to the north, followed\nby our two dogs. It was very encouraging to find something living in\nthis God-forgotten wilderness; for now we had lost even the raven.\n\nIt was a steep and slow ascent up to the pass, which had a height of\n18,005 feet. We were surprised to find that it was a snow limit, for\neast of the pass there was no snow at all. As we descended the other\nside along a broad, open, sandy valley we had to be careful that we did\nnot find ourselves without water in the evening. Far to the south\nappeared an ice sheet, but it lay too far out of our course. We\ntherefore filled two sacks with snow from the last drift, encamped where\nthin tufts afforded fuel, and sent five men with all the animals\nsouthwards to the ice in search of water and fodder.\n\nThe water question now became pressing, for apparently we could not\ncount on snow much farther. And we could not dig for water, as before,\nfor the ground was frozen into stone. We must therefore proceed\ncautiously. We had a great open wilderness in front of us; we must make\nour way from one point of support to another, and explore the routes in\nadvance, lest we might come to a catastrophe. I therefore gave orders\nthat, now that the loads were considerably smaller, a couple of our\nanimals should carry snow or ice. At every camp we left an empty\nmeat-tin. I think less of the time soon approaching when the excellent\ngoods from Simla will come to an end than of the fact that the burdens\nof our animals are daily becoming lighter. The rock specimens I collect\ndo not weigh much. Of course the provender has long given out, but where\nthe pasturage is scanty or altogether absent, loaves of parched meal are\nkneaded together for the animals.\n\nThe men are to come back on the 7th, and we wait for them till mid-day.\nThere, too, they come: the black group is plainly visible; they march\nand march, but come no nearer. Ah, it is only some black stones dancing\nin the mirage. A little later Suen reports that some of the animals have\nrun away, and consequently we have to remain the whole day at this\ndismal camp.\n\nHow slowly the hours pass on a day like this! I am a prisoner in my own\ntent, for cold and wind keep me from work out of doors. As long as the\nsun is above the horizon I pass the time very comfortably, for I can see\nthe mountains, these silent, dreary, lonely mountains, where men never\nwander, and I see the sandspouts whirling along before the wind. But\nwhen the sun sets, the long winter evening begins, and I hear only the\nhowl of the storm without. Patience! Spring will come some time. Every\nday that passes we are a step farther from this horrible winter. Brown\nPuppy and her whelp keep me company, and I look upon them as comrades in\nmisfortune. She has her mat in a corner of the tent, and takes her meals\nwhen I do. The whelp we call Black Puppy amuses me immensely. He has\nbegun to take notice of the world and the life around him. When the big\ndogs bark outside the tent, he turns his head and gives a feeble growl.\nWhen his mother leaves him on the mat in the cold, he makes an attempt\nat a bark and seems to think it strange. He wanders about the tent,\nthough he is still so unsteady on his legs that he constantly topples\nover. He has already conceived a highly salutary respect for the\nbrazier, and sniffs and shakes his head when he chances to come too near\nit. Sometimes it happens that he misses his mother in the night, when\nthere may be as many as 54 degrees of frost in the tent; but his\ncomplaining squeal awakens me, and I take him under the furs--an\nattention he is very fond of. One morning he wakened me by crawling of\nhis own accord on to my pillow and trying to get into my bed. After that\nI felt no concern about his future; he must learn how to make his way in\nlife, and that he was doing.\n\nOn the 8th we went over a small pass 17,569 feet high. A horse and a\nmule perished on the way. Camp 299 was pitched where the first pasture\nwas found, in a valley on the other side (16,946 feet). There was no\nwater, but we had four sacks of ice. Seven sheep were left, and the\nraven had also come again.\n\nThe aim of our next day's journey was to find water for the animals. My\ntrusty white Ladaki horse, which I always rode, used to get my washing\nwater every morning, and I used no soap that I might not spoil it for\nhim. From a small rise in the ground we were able to enjoy the view I\nhad so longed for--the great open plain we had crossed in the autumn of\n1906. To the east-south-east I easily recognized the spur we passed\nthen, and we could not be more than two days' march from the Aksai-chin\nlake. I had now followed for several days much the same route as Crosby,\nand at the lake I should cross my own route of 1906, after which we\nshould go down towards the Arport-tso, and, as last year, intersect the\npaths of Bower, Deasy, Rawling, and Zugmeyer.\n\nThe whole country lay under a vault of dense clouds. After a march of\nonly 3 miles we found a flowing spring of beautiful water (33\u00b0), where\ncamp No. 300 (16,329 feet) was pitched. In the evening my servants sang\nbright and happy melodies again, and Suen performed his most ridiculous\ndances. We were again up on the roof of the world, and all dreary Tibet\nlay in front of us. Should we be able to cross it with our little\ncaravan?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LVIII\n\nFORTY DEGREES BELOW ZERO\n\n\nWith fresh blocks of ice in our sacks we set out on January 10 straight\ntowards the projection at the foot of which camp 8 had been pitched, and\nwhere I knew that the grass was good. The great level barren plain\nstretched between us and the spot, and we had 15 miles to cover. The\nwind was boisterous, and we were frozen through in a minute. In the lee\nof the caravan, which went in advance, lay a cloud of dust like smoke.\nThe yellow hue of the grass could be seen from a distance, and the sight\nso refreshed my men that they began to sing on the march. The animals\nunderstood that they were coming to good pasturage, and quickened their\npace without any shouts from the men. The tents were set up in the same\nplace as last year, and here I closed my long circuitous route through\nTibet. It was with a melancholy feeling I saw this place again, where\nMuhamed Isa had raised his tall cairn. Now we had avoided all dangers\nfrom Rudok, and we minded little that England and Russia had promised\neach other not to let a European into Tibet for three years. The height\nhere was 16,198 feet.\n\n[Illustration: 301. View from Camp 307.]\n\n[Illustration: 302. The small salt Lake south of Camp 309. (Smudge in\nsky caused by the freezing of the colour.)]\n\n[Illustration: 303. Horses going to drink at the lake near Camp 310.\nAbdul Kerim on the left.]\n\n[Illustration: 304. Mountain north-east of Camp 310; the freshwater Lake\nin the foreground.]\n\n[Illustration: 305. Storm Clouds over the snowy mountains south of Camp\n312.\n\n Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]\n\nFor several days I had spoken of this place with its good pasturage, and\nwhen we broke up our camp on the 11th I was able to promise my men a\nstill better camp for the next night. They were astonished that I was so\nmuch at home in these dreary regions. The track of the great caravan of\n1906 was blown away by the passage of many storms, but the Aksai-chin\nlake soon came into sight, its surface looking grey and dismal in the\nchilly weather. Six kiang spoors converged to the fine spring of\nfresh water near the shore, where we kindled our fires among the same\nstones as last time. Pasturage and fuel are abundant in the\nneighbourhood; it is a veritable oasis--the best camp we had had since\nK\u00f6teklik. But the storm still raged, and the salt waves rose high over\nthe lake, cooled down to 20.7\u00b0, though there was no sign of ice. In the\nnight it snowed hard again, and on the 12th, which was made a day of\nrest, the lake lay blue amidst a landscape of shining white.\n\nWhen all goes well the Mohammedans read no prayers. Probably they think\nthat when we can help ourselves it is unnecessary to disturb Allah.\n\nWe had to pay a horse as toll for the good pasturage. He lay frozen hard\nin the camp on the morning of the 13th, after a night temperature of\n-18.4\u00b0. The yellow dog remained beside him, and when he came late at\nnight into the next camp, he was so fat and puffed up that it was\nevident he had stored up food for several days. Two ravens followed us\nwith their hoarse croaking. Snow fell thickly and hid the view. A herd\nof antelopes disappeared like shadows in the mist. A sheep died on the\nway, and two more had to be killed, for they were worn-out; we had now\nonly three left. The cold penetrated everywhere in the night, and the\nthermometer sank to -33\u00b0.\n\nOn January 14 we made south-eastwards over a plain of soft, tiring\nground, which caused us the loss of a mule. The caravan moved very\nslowly forward and in close order; the animals marched more comfortably\nwhen they were together; those which would linger behind, overcome with\nfatigue, were driven forward by the Ladakis. At camp 304 the grass was\npoor, and two mules seemed to be near their end. The cold was fearfully\nsharp in the night. The thermometer fell to -39.6\u00b0, or to nearly 40\ndegrees below zero, and almost to the freezing-point of mercury. That\nwas the lowest temperature I ever recorded in all my journeys in Asia.\n\nBut January 15 brought a fine morning and an Italian blue sky. Abdul\nKerim and all the other Mohammedans waited on me, in a tragi-comical\nprocession, with dried apricots and almonds, and a simultaneous cry of\n\"Aid mubarek,\" or \"A blessed Festival.\" One of the festivals of Islam\nfell on this day. Exceedingly comical was the procession of the four\nLamaists, who came up as the others retired; and Lobsang, who led them,\ntook off his cap and scratched his head in Tibetan fashion, but did not\nput out his tongue--he had no doubt learned in Leh that this performance\nwas not pleasing to a European. I gave them 10 rupees each and handed\nthe caravan bashi a watch, which he was to wind up well every evening to\nbe sure of the time.\n\nOn we marched again, moving slowly, for the ground rose. We proceeded\nlike a funeral procession, and Suen was the parson. There was no longer\nreason to fear thirst, for half the country was covered with snow. But\nevery mile caused us a struggle, and it was long before we came to the\ncliff we were making for. We left a huge snowy massive on the right\nhand.\n\nNext day's march took us over a flat saddle to a small side valley where\nthere was some grass. The temperature had been down to -29.9\u00b0, and I\ncould not by any means get life into my feet. Sometimes they ached,\nsometimes there was an uncomfortable pricking in my toes, and then again\nthey lost all feeling. During the day's rest we allowed ourselves in\ncamp 306 Tubges shot an antelope and an Ovis Ammon, a feat which\nprolonged the lives of our last two sheep. In the evening the men were\ncheerful and hopeful as they sat around the flesh-pot.\n\nGulam Razul had presented me with six bottles of whisky, which, sewed up\nin thick felt, had been brought all the way; for Ladakis maintain that\nwhen a mule shows signs of exhaustion and weakness it can be cured by\ngiving it whisky or other spirits. But the bottles were heavy, so three\nof them were emptied and set up as a memorial on some stones. Perhaps\nsome time or other they may be found by another traveller. The other\nthree were kept.\n\nOn the 18th we continued to follow the same longitudinal valley. All the\nranges in this country run east and west, the usual direction in Tibet.\nTo the right was a lofty range we must cross if we would travel\nsouth-eastwards. Through a gap in the northern mountains was visible to\nthe north-east the mighty snowy dome we had passed to the right of in\n1906. Eastwards there seemed to be no obstacle in the way, but we\ndiverged south-eastwards up a valley. Before we encamped (Illust. 301)\nanother mule had fallen, and then we had lost a fourth of the caravan.\n\nNext day we proceeded further up the valley. Sometimes it was only 10\nyards broad between solid horizontal terraces. Below a steep crag lay\nfive pot-stones, and therefore Tibetan hunters must have come thus far.\nThe Ladakis were delighted to meet with signs of human beings again. The\nvalley opened out into an extensive plain, and a gap was seen to the\nsouth-east, but as the ground was lower towards the east we turned our\nsteps in that direction. From the low threshold the view was anything\nbut encouraging--a world of mountains. We resolved to encamp where we\nwere (17,405 feet high) and to try the other, southern, passage next\nday.\n\nA miserable camp! The storm raged so violently that the tents could\nhardly be set up, and the iron tent-pegs beat together and rattled until\nthey were fixed. We had first to make a fire before we could use our\nnumbed hands, and a small stone wall had to be raised to prevent the\nfire from being carried away. Now Nature and the elements were against\nus, whereas we might in the future expect opposition from man. The\npasture was wretched, and a grey horse and the last mule from Poonch lay\ndead in the morning. It was the senior of the veterans, for it had come\nwith me all the way from Srinagar and had done good service, and I was\ngrieved at losing it. Now there was only one creature left which had\nseen the first beginning of the caravan, namely, our brown Puppy. She\nand the little puppy kept me company in this oppressive, weary solitude.\n\nFrom camp 309, where we stayed a day, there was an uninterrupted view\nover another longitudinal valley, to the south of the former. There lay\na contracted salt lake. At almost every camp, as on the former journey,\nI drew a panorama of the surroundings, and tried sometimes to paint\nsmall water-colour drawings (Illust. 302). Then I had to sit in the\nopening of the tent and hold the block over the fire to prevent the\nbrush freezing into a lump of ice. But the sky, which should have been\nof an even blue or grey tone, usually turned into a film of ice with\nstrange stars and crystals.\n\nIn camp 310 we also remained a day, for the pasture was better than we\nhad found for a long time. The grass grew in sand on the shore of a\nsmall freshwater lake with a free opening, where at length the animals\ngot a good drink after having had to quench their thirst with snow. We\nhad travelled 188 miles since Christmas Eve, or about 6\u00bd miles a day on\nan average--a terribly slow pace. Now we had had a furious storm for\nthree days, and here yellow whirls of sand flew over the ice and the\nwind moaned and rustled through the grass. Abdul Kerim sewed together a\nlong Mohammedan coat for me, which I was to wear under my fur when I\nassumed my disguise.\n\nOn January 24 the whole country was covered with dazzling snow and the\nsun shone, but a stormy blast drove the fine snow particles in streaks\nover the land, and a roaring sound was heard. Antelopes careered lightly\nover the ground, dark against the white snow. A mule died on the way;\nnot even Tibetan mules can bear this climate. I was benumbed and\nhalf-dead with cold before I reached the camp.\n\nAfter a temperature of -21.3\u00b0 the neighbourhood was enveloped in\nsemi-darkness by heavy clouds. The jagged mountains to the south\nreminded me of a squadron of armoured vessels at gunnery practice in\nrainy weather. Their grey outlines peeped out from the low clouds. The\nvalley was about 6 miles broad. Towards the east the snow lay less\nthickly, and finally only the footprints of wild animals were filled\nwith snow, like a string of pearls in the dark ground.\n\n[Illustration: 306. CAMP 307.]\n\n[Illustration: 307. CAMP 333. THE BEGINNING OF A STORM.]\n\n[Illustration: 308. CAMP 335. LEMCHUNG-TSO, LOOKING EAST.]\n\n[Illustration: 309. CAMP 401. KANCHUNG-GANGRI FROM THE NORTH.\n\n In the foreground Lapchung-tso, the source of Chaktak- or\n Charta-tsangpo.]\n\nAs I turn over the leaves of my diary of this terrible journey how often\nI come across the remark that this was the hardest day we had hitherto\nexperienced. And yet days were always coming when we suffered still\nmore. So it was on January 26. The sky was covered with such compact\nclouds that we might fancy we were riding under a prison vault. The\nstorm raged with undiminished violence, and a quarter of an hour after I\nhad mounted my horse I was benumbed and powerless. My hands ached, and I\ntried to thaw my right hand by breathing on it whenever I had to take a\nnote, but after reading the compass for two seconds my hands lost all\nfeeling. My feet troubled me less, for I had no feeling at all in them.\nI only hoped I should reach the camp before the blood froze in my veins\n(Illust. 305).\n\nThen we come at length to the Arport-tso and leave the northern basin of\nthe lake on our left, while a large basin swells out like a fjord\ntowards the south. A mountain spur sends out a cape into the lake, which\nhas a very irregular outline. It stands in our way. Shall we leave it on\nthe right or left? We come up to the middle of the lake shore and wait\nwhile Lobsang goes to see if the caravan can travel over the ice. He\nhurries forward and makes us a sign to follow. We go down to the beach\nand along a spit which narrows down to a fine point.\n\nHere the ice on our left hand has been piled up into hummocks, 6 feet\nhigh, of grand transparent green flat slabs, but on the right, as far as\nwe can see over the southern basin, the ice spreads its level smooth\nsheet of a beautiful dark green colour like leaves of laurel and lilac.\nWe feel the usual fascination of the ice, and stand and stare down into\nthe dark cold depths. Drifting snow sweeps like comets' tails over the\nsmooth course. We stand on the very point of the promontory, with the\nnarrowest part of the Arport-tso in front of us, for the lake is\ncontracted like a wasp's waist. Here there are fences, walls, and\nbarriers raised by ice pressure, and between them snow is drifted up,\nhard and dry on the surface. It would have been quite impossible to\nmarch over the bare ice; the caravan would have been carried away like\nchaff before the wind. But the snow affords us an excellent path.\nLobsang leads the way, guiding us in many a wind, but we get across and\ncome to the farther shore at the foot of a cliff.\n\nWorse followed, for the rocky point fell straight down to the lake on\nits eastern side, and here we had slippery ice swept clear of snow\nwhich we sanded. One horse or mule after another slipped and fell. Some\nof them made no attempt to get up again, but were dragged over the ice\nto firm ground, where their loads were put on again. Some fell with a\nheavy thud on the hard treacherous ice. We had to double a whole series\nof points in this way till we came to one where further progress was\nimpossible, for at its foot issued forth springs which produced large\nopenings in the ice. There icy cold waves beat with a sharp sound\nagainst the edges of the ice under the lash of the wind, which drove\ncontinually clouds of snow dancing like elves over the dark green field\nof ice. We had to struggle up over steep slopes till at last we reached,\nthoroughly tired out, an inlet where a few leaves of grass grew. We had\nleft a mule on the ice, and two men went back and gave it a drop of\nwhisky so that it could come on to the camp. But my brown horse from\nShigatse, which had so often carried me up to the east gate of\nTashi-lunpo, remained behind for good. It is sad and depressing when a\nveteran dies.\n\nArport-tso lies at a height of 17,382 feet. The water, which was drawn\nfrom an opening in the ice, was quite potable. There was a high pass in\nfront of us to the south-east, but we could not reach it in one day, and\nwe camped on the plain at the south-east of the lake where Rawling had\nonce stayed. It was little more than a mile thither, but the grass was\ngood and the animals needed nourishment. It snowed thickly all day. It\nwas warm and comfortable under cover, and we pitied the poor animals\nwhich were out grazing in the cold. The small puppy had grown so much\nthat he could wander alone between the tents watching for an opportunity\nto steal meat. A sheep was slaughtered.\n\nAt night the cold was more severe again, and the thermometer sank to\n-30.3\u00b0. The sick mule sought shelter behind the men's tent, lay down at\nonce, and gave vent to a piteous sound. I went out to look at it, and\ncaused it to be put out of its misery.\n\n[Illustration: 310. MY DYING PONY.\n\n Sketched by the Author.]\n\nOn the morning of the 28th we found two horses dead on the grass. One\nwas one of the veterans of Leh which Robert had ridden, and which also\nbore me to the springs in the Sutlej bed. We had now only\ntwenty-three animals left, and my small white Ladaki was the last of the\nveterans. Little I thought, as he carried me over the Chang-lung-yogma,\nthat he would survive a hundred and fifty comrades. Every morning two\nlong icicles hung down from his nostrils. He was taken great care of,\nand I always saved a piece of bread from my breakfast for him. I had a\nparticular affection for him and for Brown Puppy. They had been with me\nso long, and had passed through so many adventures.\n\nA loss of three animals in one day was serious for such a caravan as\nours. How would it all end? We had still an immense distance before us.\nWe struggled for three hours with halting steps up this terrible pass\nwhich had a height of 18,281 feet. We encamped in the shelter of a rock\nand killed the last worn-out sheep, and then had no live store of meat.\n\nThe temperature fell to -24.5\u00b0, and the first sound I heard in the\nmorning of the 29th was the everlasting howl of the storm. We marched\nsouth-eastwards through snow a foot deep. \"One of our worst days,\" it is\nstyled in my diary. We cared about nothing except to get to our camp\nalive. I had a scarf wound several times over my face, but it was\nquickly turned into a sheet of ice, which cracked when I turned my head.\nI tried to smoke a cigarette, but it froze on to my lips. Two horses\ndied on the way, and Abdul Kerim's horse took over the load of one of\nthem, while the man himself went on foot like the others. I followed the\ntrack of the caravan with Kutus. Then we found Kunchuk Sonam and Suen\nunable to go further; they suffered from pains at the heart. I tried to\ncheer them up, and promised to give them medicine if they would follow\nslowly in the track of the caravan. Was it now the turn of the men after\nhalf the caravan had been lost? Quite overcome with fatigue they hobbled\nat twilight into camp.\n\nAbdul Kerim came into my tent very cast down and asked if we should fall\nin with nomads within ten days, for otherwise he considered our\ncondition desperate. In truth, I could give him no consolation, but\ncould only tell him that we must go on as long as there was a single\nmule left, and then try to drag ourselves along to the nomads with as\nmuch food as we could carry. Now we thought no longer of pursuers\nbehind, or of dangers before us, but only wished to preserve our lives\nand come to country where we could find means of subsistence. Behind us\nthe snow obliterated our tracks, and the future awaited us with its\nimpenetrable secrets.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LIX\n\nIN THE SNOW\n\n\nThe storm howled round us all night long, and our thin tent canvas\nfluttered in the blast. Gulam awaked me with the information, \"It is\nnasty weather to-day; we can see nothing.\" Even the nearest mountains\nwere hidden by the snow, and if I had not already taken a bearing along\nthe valley in the direction south, 35\u00b0 E., we could not have set out.\nThis day, January 30, we had to keep together, for the driving snow\nobliterated the tracks immediately. We had two leaders, and I rode last\nalong the trail, which at first was marked as a black winding line, but\nfarther on, where the snow lay 2 feet deep, no ground or rubbish could\nbe seen. A brown horse which carried no burden lay down and died in the\nsnow. We could see the snow making ready its grave before it was cold.\nIt vanished behind us in the dreadful solitude.\n\nWe move forwards at a very slow pace through the snowdrifts. The fury of\nthe storm carries away the warning shouts from the lips of the guides\nand they do not reach our ears; we simply follow the trail. Lobsang goes\nfirst, and he often disappears in the dry loose snow and has to seek\nanother direction. In the hollows the snow lies 3 feet deep, and we can\ntake only one step at a time after the spades have cut us a ditch\nthrough the snow. One or other of the animals is always falling, and the\nremoval of his load and readjusting it causes a block, for all must\nfollow in the same furrow. All, men and animals, are half-dead with\nfatigue and labour for breath. The snow sweeps round us in suffocating\nwreaths; we turn our backs to the wind and lean forwards. Only the\nnearest mules are plainly visible, the fifth is indistinct, and those at\nthe front are seen only as slight shadows amidst the universal\nwhiteness. I cannot catch a glimpse of the guides. Thus the troop passes\non a few steps till it comes to the next block, and when the mule\nimmediately in front of me moves on again it is only to plunge into a\nhollow filled with snow, where two men wait to keep up its load. The\ndirection is now east and the ground rises. A few such days and the\ncaravan will be lost (Illust. 312).\n\nAt length we come to a low pass (18,268 feet high). Even at sea-level\nsuch a journey would be hard enough, but how much worse it is in a\ncountry which lies some hundreds of feet higher than Mont Blanc, and\nwhere there is nothing but granite. On the eastern side of the saddle\nthe snow lay 3 feet deep in some places, and it seemed as though we\nshould be stuck fast in the snowdrifts; and what had we to expect then?\nFor the provender was coming to an end, and we must go on if we would\nfind pasture. Now we went gently down, the snow became a little less\ndeep, and we came to an expansion of the valley where there were\nstretches of ground swept bare by the blast. On the right appeared a\nslope where Abdul Karim thought he saw blades of grass sticking up out\nof the snow, and he asked permission to camp. It was difficult to set up\nthe tents that evening. At dusk the two sick men came up, their faces\nblue and swollen.\n\nA miserable camp! The storm increased to a hurricane, and nothing could\nbe heard but its howling. When I looked out of my tent I could see\nnothing that was not white, and there was no difference between the\nground, the mountains, and the sky--all being alike white. Not even the\nmen's tent could be distinguished in the driving snow. The fine\nparticles penetrated into the tent and covered everything with a white\npowder. It was impossible to look for fuel, and at three o'clock the\ntemperature in the tent was 1.4\u00b0. I could see nothing living outside,\nand I might have been quite alone in this wilderness.\n\n[Illustration: 311. LOST BEYOND RECOVERY.]\n\nMy trusty Gulam comes, however, at length with fire, for Lobsang and\nSedik have found some brushwood. Gulam says that Sonam Kunchuk is ready\nto lay himself down on the snow and die, but I advise him to take a good\ndose of quinine instead. Late at night the tones of the hymn to Allah\nreach my ears, sounding softer and sadder than usual amid the raging of\nthe storm. We are moving towards a dark destiny, I have attempted too\nmuch, and any moment the catastrophe may come. We are snowed up here,\nthe animals must die of starvation and I myself--well, it is but a\nquestion of time.\n\nA little below the camp the valley made a turn to the right. Thither the\nanimals had gone at night, but came back as there was no grazing. A grey\nmule had stayed behind to die. It lay in a curious position, as though\nit had died in the act of getting up--on its knees with its nose pressed\nagainst the ground, and was frozen hard in this position. Yet the\ntemperature fell only to -16.4\u00b0.\n\nThe storm continued with undiminished violence on January 31. We loaded\nthe nineteen mules and horses and marched down the valley at random in\nthe same dense snow. The snow came down in incredible quantities; such a\nsnowstorm I had never witnessed even on the Pamir. We could not travel\nmore than 2\u00be miles, and then we halted and pitched the tents, which\nlooked dirty against the pure snow. Four big wild yaks were moving over\nthe slopes, tramping like snow-ploughs. The dogs made after them, but\nsoon gave up the chase, for they could not go far in the drifts. The\nanimals received their allowance of rice, and then trailed off to a hill\nwhere they poked about for the scanty grass.\n\nI examined all the baggage with the help of Abdul Kerim and Gulam, and\ndiscarded all that could be spared. Unnecessary clothing and worn-out\nboots were burned, and reserve garments were brought out. My articles,\nnote-books, and instruments were stuffed into two small sacks. Writing\nmaterials and other things for daily use were packed in a small handbag\nfrom Stockholm. The other chests were used as firewood, when the men had\nstripped off the leather coverings to make new shoe-soles. Even the box\nfor the cooking utensils and the provision boxes were burned, and all\nthe baggage was henceforth carried in sacks. By this means the loads\nwere made lighter and more convenient, though there was more trouble in\nturning everything out of a sack when anything was wanted from the\nbottom.\n\nIn the afternoon there was a short break in the snowstorm. Beyond the\nwhite limits of the valley was seen to the south-east the large lake\nShemen-tso, with a dark purple sky above it, presaging more snow. I took\nbearings of the next day's route, and it was well I did so, for soon the\nsnow began to fall again unusually thickly. It snowed all day and all\nnight, and a swishing sound was heard as the snowflakes were driven by\nthe wind against the canvas of the tent and from time to time slipped\ndown. In the morning of February 1 piles of snow lay round the tents.\nThe minimum temperature was only -0.8\u00b0, and it felt quite pleasant. We\nloaded our weary hungry pack animals and marched slowly south-eastwards.\nThe gale blew from the south, and the snow pelted on to our faces.\n\nSilently and heavily the fainting troop moved on towards the lake. All\nthe men's beards and moustaches were white with rime, and we seemed all\nto have turned grey in a night. Abdul Kerim walked in front with his\nstaff, but he took a wrong direction, and I chose another leader. In\nsome places we were nearly suffocated in the snow, and the crestfallen\nmen stood in the drifts, at a loss what to do. But we plunged and\nfloundered on a bit, and then stood still; then a little bit further.\nThe pass over which we had made our way the previous day was no doubt\nblocked by snow. Had we reached it two days later we should never have\nforced a way over it. Now our retreat was cut off, and we must seek\nsafety southwards. It was some consolation to know that we had burned\nour ships.\n\n[Illustration: 312. \"IF THIS CONTINUES A FEW DAYS LONGER, WE ARE LOST.\"]\n\nFortunately the ground sloped down, and as we toiled on hour after hour\nthe snow diminished and travelling became easier. But the storm, which\nhad now raged for a fortnight, showed no signs of abatement. Down on the\nwestern flat by the lake the snow mantle was thin, and we encamped in\na spot where the grass was not bad. I gave the men some cigarettes every\nevening--at other times they smoked yak-dung and filled their narghil\u00e9s\nwith tea-leaves.\n\nThe night was unusually mild, with the minimum temperature only 5.2\u00b0,\nbut the clouds were as dense as ever and the snow fell unceasingly. It\nwas dark all day, as though a curtain hung over the forbidden land. We\nstayed at camp 319. The storm blew from the south-west more wildly than\nusual. The animals grazed with their heads to leeward, and had to be\ndriven windwards again every time they came to the edge of the\nrestricted area of grass. On February 3, also, we remained where we\nwere. All night long the hurricane had raged, tearing, raving, ploughing\nup the ground like a gigantic plough, and endeavouring to pull down our\ntents. In the evening I secured everything that could fly away if the\ntent were overthrown. In the morning all the animals had disappeared as\nthough they had been carried away by the blast; at any rate, they had\ngone with the wind to the northern shore of the lake.\n\nImmediately beyond our camp was a spring of fresh water and a round fold\nfor sheep. I had ceased to look forward to spring, it seemed so\nhopelessly distant, and to be farther off every day that passed. Brown\nPuppy and Little Puppy kept me company as usual, and we played together\nto pass the hours of our imprisonment. Gulam continued to rub my feet,\nbut with little result, for they remained numb and cold as ice. Then he\nbrought two pairs of _paipaks_ of thick felt and a pair of _charuks_ or\nYarkand boots of soft leather outside. They were really warmer than my\nKashmir boots, which were ruthlessly burned.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LX\n\nDEATH OF THE LAST VETERAN\n\n\nStudded with twinkling stars the winter sky stretched its dark-blue\ncanopy over our lonesome camp, and 50 degrees of frost foretold a clear\nday. On February 4 not a cloud hovered over the mountains, and this\nplateau, abandoned by gods and men, which had lately been buried under\nthe white shroud of winter, was again illumined by bright sunlight. Sad\nnews was brought me in the morning: a horse and a mule lay dead beside\nthe tents. With the seventeen remaining animals we continued our journey\nalong the irregular northern shore of the Shemen-tso (16,266 feet). The\nquantity of snow became less, and at camp 320 the gravelly ground was\nalmost bare. The view over the lake was grand. Captain Rawling's map of\nthis district is executed with great accuracy.\n\nOn February 5, also, we encamped on the shore of the great lake, having\nfollowed the curves of its bays and capes. A mule died on the way.\nThough we had burned all we could dispense with, yet the loads were much\ntoo heavy for the surviving animals. A big strong mule always led the\nvan, at the heels of Gulam; it carried at least two ordinary loads, and\nyet was fat and fresh. There was no sign of human beings. A flock of\njackdaws were perched on a crag. At the camp the provisions were\ninspected, and we decided to relinquish three heavy sacks of rice. The\nrice was to be given on the following days, mixed with parched meal and\nwater, to the animals. Of my provisions, only two boxes of tinned meat,\nsome jam and biscuits, were left. We had not tasted meat for some time.\nThe storm raged all day and the sun had vanished again.\n\nOn February 6 we passed a very abundant spring of water at a temperature\nof 46.2\u00b0, which poured into the lake. There flocks of sheep had recently\ndrunk, and rows of cairns ran from the shore to guide antelopes into the\ntraps in the ground. Now no game was seen except a single kiang. A mule\ndied, and Abdul Kerim's yellow horse fell by the way. Only fourteen\nanimals reached the camp this day, and of these my small white Ladaki\nwas in the worst plight; he stumbled and fell, and I made a somersault\nover his head.\n\nThe day after, we made a short journey, left the lake and its barren\nshore behind us, and set up our tents amid good grass. The weather was\nfine; at one o'clock the temperature was 14\u00b0, and it felt as though\nspring had come. All the animals lay down to rest and warm themselves in\nthe sun. Only my small Ladaki began to graze immediately; he would not\ndie, but would follow me to the end. Wild asses and antelopes grazed on\nthe steppe, and hares were plentiful. I was alarmed by a message that\nthree men could be seen at some distance to the north, and the caravan\nbashi wished me to come and examine them through my field-glass.\nApparently they were on the way to our camp. But I had plenty of time to\nput on my disguise. I watched them a long time, till at last they turned\ninto three wild yaks which had been lengthened out by mirage. We had no\nneed yet to trouble ourselves about men, but perhaps these yaks were\nforerunners.\n\nNow I had ridden my small white horse for the last time. On February 8,\nwhen we continued our march east-south-east after a minimum temperature\nof -18.9\u00b0 he followed the caravan loose and unladen, and fell even\nwithout a rider. I rode instead a grey horse from Tikze. We made barely\n5 miles, but yet the journey was full of events. On the other side on a\nlow hill stood a Pantholops antelope, which did not run away though we\nwere quite close. We soon noticed that it was held fast and was\nstruggling to get free. The dogs rushed at it, but a couple of men\nhurried on to keep them off. The animal was fast in a snare laid in an\nantelope track, where also we noticed fresh footprints of two men. We\nwere evidently not far from winter hunters, who perhaps had already\ncaught sight of us. Perhaps they had seen me, the only one riding in\nEuropean dress. Perhaps it was too late to disguise myself. All my plans\nwould then be spoiled, and all the labours of the winter lost.\n\nBut at any rate we had now fresh meat. Let us examine the ingenious trap\nin which the game is caught. Plates of rib bones of antelopes are firmly\nfixed in a ring of hard twisted vegetable fibres, which form a funnel\nwith the points in a ditch. The antelope is enticed into the trap by a\nrow of small cairns, and tramps about in the funnel, the plates giving\nway, but forming immovable impediments when he attempts to draw his\nhoofs out. But the snare must be held secure if it is to have the\ndesired effect. A rope as thick as a finger is made fast in the bottom\nof the ditch, which is filled with water, and after freezing becomes as\nhard as stone. The free end of the rope forms a noose above the ring of\nfibres, which tightens when the animal first attempts to lift his leg\nand holds down the funnel of ribs. The more the poor animal jumps about,\nthe faster is the hold of the twisted snare.\n\nThe victim was slain; the dogs ate their fill of the entrails, and the\nmeat made ordinary loads for four men. Then we went on. At the mouth of\na valley to the south were seen a sheepfold and two black specks we took\nfor stones. Beyond a grass-grown mound we found a pool of fresh water,\nand we pitched the camp near it. It was not long before the Ladakis were\nsitting round a fire and roasting pieces of delicate, much-appreciated\nmeat.\n\nNow, when we were evidently in the neighbourhood of human beings, it was\ntime for me to give directions to my people. All were summoned to my\ntent. I told them that we should succeed in crossing the forbidden land\nonly by craftiness and cautiousness, and that I had made the great\nsacrifices which they had witnessed only to see regions where no Sahib\nhad ever been. If our scheme were to be successful, every man must do\nhis duty and play his part well. Whenever Tibetans put the usual\nquestions, whence we came and whither we were going, they should answer\nthat we were all, without exception, Ladakis, in the service of a\nmerchant named Gulam Razul, who had sent us to Chang-tang to find out\nhow much wool could be bought from the nomads next summer. Abdul Kerim\nwas our leader and chief, and had to manage our affairs. He was\ntherefore given 100 rupees for expenses, and every evening when no one\ncould spy upon us he was to render an account to me. I myself was one of\nhis servants, a Mohammedan named--Abdurrahman, the caravan bashi\nsuggested--but no; Hajji Baba sounded better to me. Accordingly, when we\ncame among Tibetans, they should never forget and call me Sahib, but\nonly Hajji Baba. All understood the matter and promised to do their\nbest.\n\nA little later, Lobsang came running up and declared that the two black\nstones were tents. We went out and examined them through the\nfield-glass. Quite true; smoke rose from one of them, but neither men\nnor animals were visible. I at once ordered Abdul Kerim, Abdul Rasak,\nand Kutus to go and pay for the antelope, buy anything they could, and\nobtain information. They soon came back again and asked if it would not\nbe wiser to avoid the tents and march on eastwards, the more so that the\ninmates might be robbers. No; these men had seen us and might send a\nreport to Rudok, and then we should be stopped. It was best, then, to\nenter into friendly relations with the men and lull them into security.\n\"Bismillah,\" cried the three and took themselves off, while the others\nsat by the fire in lively conversation about the incidents of the day\nand the prospects of the future. It was now sixty-four days since we had\nleft the last village in Ladak, while on the former journey we had been\nin solitude for eighty-one days.\n\nAfter three hours my men returned. The two tents contained nine\ninmates--two grown-up men, two women, three girls, and two boys. The\nolder man was named Purung Kungga, and he owned 150 sheep and 4 dogs,\nbut no other animals. During their journey from Yildan their tents and\ngoods were carried by sheep. They had arrived two months before, and\nintended to stay half a month more. The day before they had just been to\nlook at their antelope trap, when they were alarmed at the sight of the\ncaravan. They took it for granted that only robbers could be travelling\nin this district, which lay outside the haunts of honest and honourable\nmen. The antelope had, then, been not more than an hour in the trap.\nAbdul Kerim paid 3 rupees for it, 3 for a sheep, and 1 for milk and\nbutter. We could get more milk early in the morning, but we should have\nto send for it, for the nomads dared not come to our tents. We might\nhave kept the antelope without compensation, for we were wayfarers and\nhad a right to take what we found. In answer to their inquiry who we\nwere, Abdul Kerim repeated the yarn he had just learned. The country\nabout camp 324 is called Riochung. In one of the tents lay the hides and\nmeat of nine antelopes. The people lived almost exclusively on the game\nthey caught in their snares.\n\nSo far we had been fortunate. With provisions for twenty-one days\ninstead of for seventy-five, we had struggled up to the Karakorum\ninstead of finding a passage to the east; we had been persecuted by\nraging storms, biting cold, and deep snow all the way, and yet we had\nlighted on the first men. They were like a rock in the ocean, and now\nagain we were to venture over the raging waves. This day found us only a\nfew miles up a gently sloping valley filled with ice. Little Puppy was\nlet loose and had to look after himself a bit. But he was soon tired,\nand lay down till Kunchuk fetched him.\n\nFebruary 10. The valley bottom is full of ice sheets, which we often\ncross after they have been strewn with sand. We wander through a\nlabyrinth of clay hills. In an expansion to the left are seen three\nstone cabins and some _mani_ heaps; here is the gold placer which\nRawling calls Rungma-tok, and the hunters we saw yesterday Getsa-rung.\nThe gold-diggers come hither only in summer. The camp to-day, No. 326,\nis in an excellent spot, with a sandy soil, plenty of fuel, and an\nunfrozen brook. It is pleasant to listen to the purling water, a sign of\napproaching spring. East and south-east rises a wreath of lofty\nmountains, which we have to surmount. As long as the ground is flat and\nthere is grass the animals do very well, but they cannot endure a high\npass. My white Ladaki has picked up again, and the men are ordered to\ntend him carefully.\n\nFebruary 11. We ascend the valley, and the snow becomes deeper again. In\none place are seen fresh tracks of three men. We camp behind a cliff to\nget shelter from the wind, but first we have to cross the ice belt in\nthe valley bottom, where a path has been recently sanded. It is evident\nthat we shall soon fall in with men--perhaps on the march between the\ntwo camps. Therefore I put on my new Ladaki costume with a girdle round\nthe waist. The white turban is kept ready at hand in case we meet\nTibetans. The _chapkan_ looks suspiciously clean, but Gulam undertakes\nto soil it with fat and soot. My soft leather vest is sacrificed and cut\nup for soles. After this camp Lobsang and Kutus were required to give me\nevery evening lessons in Tibetan, and I arranged all the new words in a\nvocabulary, which afterwards grew to a considerable size. Thus we spent\na couple of hours each day when all my literature was at an end. I\nespecially practised the answers I was to give in case I, Hajji Baba,\nwere subjected to cross-examination.\n\nOn the 12th we marched up through the snowdrifts in the valley, where\nsmall, graceful, elegant Goa antelopes were seen on two occasions. The\ncamping-ground was so wretched that all the animals wandered back in the\nnight to the former camp, and therefore the next day was lost, and we\nwaited wearily. In my grey _chapkan_ I am too conspicuous among the\nother ragamuffins, and whenever I have an opportunity I smear soot and\nbutter on it and cut holes in it here and there. A continuation of such\ntreatment will at length make it as disreputable as the others. I also\ntry to leave off washing my face and hands, but do not succeed in\nlooking as dirty as my men. With them the dirt seems to be engrained and\nnever to be removed, and they could grow potatoes under their nails. My\ndesire was to become like them as soon as possible, that I might escape\nthe notice of the Tibetans.\n\nFebruary 14. Temperature -22.9\u00b0. Again we are a few miles nearer our\ndestination and a day nearer spring. Our progress is slow, but we must\nbe glad that we can get along at all. Camp 329 is in the valley leading\nto the pass, which we have taken several days to reach. A mule is\nfatigued and is relieved of his load. Some grass is again found, and all\nthe animals go out to graze, except my small Ladaki, which stands beside\nmy tent with drooping head and icicles under his eyes. He has been\nweeping, knowing well that he will never be able to cross over the pass\nand that we shall leave him. I sit beside him for several hours, patting\nand stroking him, and trying to induce him to eat lumps of meal mixed\nwith rice. He revives again and goes slowly after his comrades.\n\nFebruary 15. Temperature -22.5\u00b0. A hard, toilsome day. Through ice and\nsnow among sharp detritus we march up the valley. My white horse leads\nthe way of his own accord and I ride in the rear. We keep together for\nsome time, and ascend step by step towards the troublesome pass. But\nfirst one and then another lags behind. Among them is my white horse. I\nstop and whisper in pure Swedish into his ear: \"Do not lose courage; put\nout all your strength and climb the pass, and then you will go down in a\nfew days to fine rich pasture.\" He raises his head, pricks up his ears,\nand gazes at me as I go on up to the pass with Kutus and Gulam. Only a\ncouple of lively mules follow my horse and halt where he halts, at every\ntwentieth step.\n\nAt last we came up to the flat pass, which attains to the considerable\nheight of 18,553 feet. Here we waited a long time. The large black mule\npassed first over the snowy threshold of the pass and then the others,\ntill nine baggage animals had gone by and my grey Tikze horse last.\nAbdul Kerim reported that four animals were thoroughly tired out. I\nordered that they should be led step by step even till night if\nnecessary, and he went down to them again. A little later appeared\nTubges and Abdullah carrying two loads. One of the four animals had\nalready departed this life.\n\nTo the west-north-west, the direction from which we had come, the view\nwas magnificent--a sea of wild, red, gigantic undulations, with snow\ncrowning the summits and streaming down their sides. During the last\ndays we had noticed schists, porphyry, red and grey granite. The country\nwas absolutely barren, and we must try to reach the nearest grass in the\ndescending valley, but it was full of snow, and the train moved slowly\nand wearily through the drifts. I went on foot like the rest; every man\ncarried a load to help the animals. All were silent, and tramped and\nbalanced themselves in the track marked by the leader. The valley\ncontracted to a ditch, and where the first yak-moss grew we threw down\nour burdens. A sorry camp in the close dismal valley. The last animals\nstood tied together, and were fed with pulverized yak-dung and moss\nmixed with meal and rice.\n\nAt dusk the other men came up leading a mule. Three animals were gone,\nand one of them was my small white Ladaki horse. He had struggled up to\nthe very top of the pass, where I had sat watching for him in vain, and\nthen had laid himself down to die. He had served me and carried me\nfaithfully and patiently for a year and a half, and had never from the\nfirst been missing from the camping-ground, and now that the last of the\nveterans was gone I felt very lonely. During the whole journey he had\nnever reached a higher spot than that whereon he died; on the very\nsaddle of the pass his bones would be bleached by the winter storms and\nthe summer sun. The caravan this evening was empty and forlorn, for I\nhad lost a trusty friend. Now Brown Puppy was my consoler, for she had\nbeen with me from Srinagar, and her little whelp was the youngest and\nleast anxious member of our struggling troop.\n\nTwo mules had crossed the pass but died in the valley. If another such\npass lay in our way the caravan would perish. The loads were much too\nheavy for the surviving animals. A thorough weeding-out was necessary.\nMy ulster and most of my European clothes were burned. Felt mats, tools,\nkitchen utensils, and spare shoes for the horses were thrown away. My\nsmall Swedish bag was burned, and all the medicines except the quinine\njar were sacrificed; my European toilet necessaries, including my\nrazors, went the same way, and only a piece of soap was kept. All\nEuropean articles that were not absolutely indispensable were cast into\nthe fire. I tore out of Fr\u00f6ding's poems the leaves I did not know by\nheart, and left the rest at the camp. The remaining matches were\ndistributed among the men; I kept myself twenty-four boxes, which must\nsuffice until the time when we must use only flint and steel to preserve\nour incognito.\n\nCold and sad the night spread its wings over the silent valley where our\nlonely camp, a picture of desolation, was buried among black cliffs and\nwhite snowdrifts, while the stars came out above like lights burning\nround a bier.\n\nWhile the lightened loads were being placed on the animals I started on\nfoot followed by two men. One of them, Kutus, walked beside me, and I\nsteadied myself by his shoulder as we floundered through the drifts. The\nwind blew furiously, and the snow danced in spirals and appeared as\nwhite clouds on all the crags and ridges. After a march of about 3 miles\nwe encamped when we came to grass. Snow had to be melted in pots, for\nthe animals had been long without drink. This process did not take so\nlong now that only eleven animals were left.\n\nWith tottering steps we continued to the east-south-east on the 17th and\n18th, sometimes along valleys, sometimes over open country, and always\nthrough deep tiring snow. Camp 333 (Illust. 307) was barely made ready\nwhen a terrible storm burst over us. The sky had been clear, and then\nall of a sudden the pure blue colour was wiped out by orange clouds of\ndust which swept up from the south-west. I was sitting in the lee of my\ntent when in an instant the contents of the brazier were carried away. A\nheap of wild asses' dung which the men had collected also flew away, and\nwe saw the small round balls dancing up the slopes as though they were\nracing. A herd of antelopes cantered past our camp, and their smooth\ncoats shimmered like satin and velvet according as the hair was exposed\nto the wind and the light. Again our ears are filled with the din of the\nstorm. I hurry inside, and hear from time to time a shout when some part\nof the men's tent threatens to give way, or the sound of iron against\niron when the tent-pegs have to be driven in again, or a singing\ndying-away sound when my towel is seized by the blast and borne away\ntowards the foot of the mountains. We might be on an unsound vessel with\nthe sails flapping and beating in cracking strips, and the mountain\nspurs, which still peep obscurely from the mist, might be dangerous and\nthreatening reefs, against which we are to be dashed in a moment. Grand\nand majestic is such a storm when it sweeps over the earth in unbridled\nfury.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXI\n\nTHIRTY DAYS OF STORM\n\n\nOn February 19 we had good country for travelling, declining gently to\nthe shore of the Lemchung-tso, which appeared in the distance. I\ntravelled mostly on foot, as I could easily do, for the storm had\nabated, but, as usual, we were chilled through by the wind, though the\ntemperature rose to 28\u00b0 at one o'clock. At the foot of some hills in the\nsouth we perceived numbers of black spots, which we took for tame yaks.\nThey soon resolved themselves, however, into whole troops of antelopes,\nwhich sped in light springs over the plain northwards. Now were often\nseen signs of the summer visits of the Gertse nomads. We had left\nDeasy's and Rawling's routes a couple of days behind us, and now found\nourselves on the western margin of one of the largest blank spaces in\nthe map of Tibet.\n\nAfter a grey horse had perished in the night we had only ten animals\nleft, or a fourth of the original caravan. They were fed in the morning\nwith meal and spent tea-leaves in water, which they swallowed with\navidity. Our store of provisions would last out barely a month.\n\nWe were 6 or 7 miles from the shore of the lake, and on arriving there\nwe encamped close to a cave in which a millstone and a couple of yak\nhides had been left in the summer. Along the shore ran a path worn by\nthe feet of men. We stayed here a day and sorted out the baggage again.\nAll spare instruments, such as thermometers, measuring tape,\neye-glasses, etc., as well as some European garments, a couple of caps,\nbandages, portfolios, were sewed up, together with some stones, in a\nsack, and sunk in a hole in the ice, which covered the lake to a depth\nof nearly 3 feet. Now I had only three changes of under-clothing left,\none of which might be sacrificed at the next sorting out--we were like a\nballoon from which ballast is thrown out to keep it in the air till it\nhas crossed a sea and has firm ground below it.\n\nIn the evening we hear a whole orchestra of roaring winds. The air hurls\nitself down like cascades from the mountains on to the camp, and cannot\nrush fast enough over the clear ice of the lake, where the moon produces\nbright silvery streaks on the surface, while the mountains show a dark\noutline to the north. Grazing and fuel are plentiful to-day, and\ntherefore we are in high spirits. The men sing, sometimes softly like a\nswinging lullaby or rounded billows in a bay, sometimes in the wild and\npassionate style of Asiatics, and dance around the fire. But when the\nmost violent gusts rush down, they pause, prepared to prevent the tent\nfrom falling over the fire. They seem to sing responses to the storm,\nand I am pleased with the performance, for it chases away thoughts of\nthe long hours of solitude, and calls forth pleasant dreams and hopes of\nspring, warm winds, discoveries and adventures in Tibet. I wonder daily\nhow this journey will end, but every day I am a step nearer to the\nanswer.\n\nOn February 22 we left the little freshwater lake on our left hand,\nwhile the Lemchung-tso proper extended its partly frozen surface to the\nright. In the middle the water was quite open and of a dark-green\ncolour, and was lashed into vapour by the storm. To the east-south-east\nthe country seemed favourable--an open plain, where no obstacle came in\nour way. In front of us were two grazing animals--perhaps yaks or wild\nasses. Gulam, who went in front, held up a field-glass and reported that\nthey were horses. So we were near nomads again. We searched about in\nevery direction but could perceive no tent. Had, perchance, the horses\nstrayed away? However, they were not shy, but became very sprightly when\nthey caught sight of us, galloped straight to the caravan, and greeted\nevery horse and mule individually. After this civility they followed us\nall the way, prancing and neighing. They were three-year-old colts\nwhich had never carried a saddle or a load--fat, fresh, and\nnimble-footed, very different from our last three horses. When we\nencamped they went off to the south and were lost to sight. The storm\nincreased in violence, and our last iron spade and a kettle were carried\naway by the wind, but were afterwards recovered.\n\nFebruary 23. The thermometer sank to -19.8\u00b0. Our last ten animals made a\nshort day's march along the same easy valley. I could perceive no trace\nof the \"Snowy Range\" of English maps in the prolongation of this valley.\nWe observed a couple of tents in the mouth of a valley to the north, but\nwe were now in no distress. I lived exclusively on tea, bread, and jam,\nof which there were still two pots left.\n\nThe storm continued next day also. We seldom covered more than 6 or 7\nmiles. In the past month we had travelled 220 miles, 30 more than in the\nprevious month. During the evening and night the snow pelted on to our\ntents. I still had my warm comfortable bed, but at a pinch it would also\ngo piecemeal into the fire. Everything that was discarded was burned or\nburied, lest, if it were left, it might arouse suspicions.\n\nFor another day's march we had the advantage of this fine longitudinal\nvalley, which imperceptibly rises to a flat threshold, beyond which we\npassed a gold placer. The holes from which the auriferous sand is\nextracted are 3 to 16 feet in diameter, and little more than 3 feet\ndeep. It is evident that some of them have been dug out last summer. A\nlittle farther down gold had been searched for some time ago. Folds,\nstone shelters for marksmen, and stone cairns were to be seen in several\nplaces.\n\n[Illustration: 313, 314, 315, 316, 317. PANORAMAS FROM THE CAMPS 318,\n333, 335, 359, 360; IN THE LAST TWO, SHA-KANGSHAM.\n\n After Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]\n\nStill lower down we came, on the following day, to a third placer,\nsituated where the valley contracts to a trough. Here large sheepfolds\nand abundant tracks of men were found. The gold is washed out on flat\nstones in a flume 100 yards long. The valley afterwards contracts to a\nbreadth of 5 yards, and the bottom is mostly filled with ice, here and\nthere forming ledges. These had to be levelled with axes and strewn with\nsand, and each animal was led and held up by men. We could not afford to\nlet any one of them break his leg and be lost to us. Then the ice\ncame to an end, the valley opened out, and we pitched our tents in an\nextensive flat. Towards the east the land was all favourable, and no\n\"Snowy Range\" stood in our way. We could see 25 miles ahead. Tubges shot\nfive hares and we had a feast that evening. A pack of wolves howled\nround the camp at night.\n\nFebruary 27. A thousand wild asses were seen on the plain which sloped\ndown gently to the east-south-east. They formed dark lines, sometimes\nlarge, sometimes small, sometimes spots like a rosary. Some herds\ngalloped off to a point about two hundred yards in front of the caravan,\nwhere they stood and gazed and then dispersed, springing away in\ngraceful movements. Perhaps they were here for a great spring congress,\nto decide questions relating to their territory and pastures. It is\ncertain that, like the nomads, they migrate at fixed seasons, for they\nalso are dependent on the occurrence of grass and its varying abundance\nat different heights and different times of the year.\n\nFarther down the plain, beyond a small cliff, were five herds of kiangs,\nthe nearest of which numbered 133 head. They came galloping almost up to\nus. Lobsang ran towards them. Then they set off in wild flight one after\nanother, their hoofs thundering over the ground, made a wide curve\nbehind us, and vanished in a dense cloud of dust, the hard beat of their\nhoofs being still audible. A strong puff of wind dispersed the cloud,\nand they came into sight again; they stood quaking with fear, and looked\nat us, pricked up their ears, dilated their nostrils, and sniffed the\nwind.\n\nTo the south of our route we perceived two tents among small scattered\nheights. Abdul Kerim and two men went off to them while we pitched camp\n341. On their return they reported that the tents were the property of a\ncertain Tsering Ngorpel from Gertse, who had come hither with his family\nfor two months and was going back in a month. They were poor people, and\nowned only 70 sheep and goats, 6 yaks, and 1 dog. The neighbourhood of\ncamp 341 the man called Senes-yung-ringmo, and he said that if we\nmarched south-eastwards we should almost daily meet with nomads from\nGertse and Senkor, districts in the south which I had passed through in\n1901. They were afraid of our men and would not let them enter the\ntents. Two fine sheep and a lump of butter were bought, and rescued us\nfrom starvation for a time. The hare meat was discarded and given to the\ndogs.\n\nWe made the two sheep carry themselves our newly-acquired store of meat\nto camp 342; we had no room for extra loads. We mounted slowly to a flat\npass. Three tents stood in a side valley and some men came out to look\nat us, but we passed on without exchanging questions and answers. On\nFebruary 29 the wind raged furiously all day long. Clouds swept\nceaselessly over the country, and at one o'clock the temperature was\n22.1\u00b0, quite low enough to chill a rider down to the bones and marrow.\n\nIn front of us lay a large flat hollow, in the midst of which two small\nlakes shone white with ice. We slowly approached the isthmus between\nthem. A herd of antelopes took to flight and nearly fell over a lonely\nwild ass, which looked at them uneasily, but at the last moment they\nturned off in another direction as though they were afraid of him. On\nthe left, in a deep trough running towards the lake, a flock of sheep\nwas driven along by two shepherds. Wait one moment. Hand me the turban.\nGulam wound it round my head, and then I went on foot like the rest.\nAlong the shore a young man was driving six yaks. Abdul Kerim and Gulam\nwent up to him while we set up the tents on the shore (15,200 feet).\n\nAfter a while they returned with the yak-driver, a boy of fourteen in a\nlarge white skin hood. He was terribly frightened, and could with\ndifficulty be persuaded to come to our tents; our intention was that he\nshould guide two of our men to his dwelling. He called the lake\nLumbur-ringmo. As my disguise was now complete, I went to look at the\nboy, who did not seem at all suspicious.\n\nLobsang and Tubges followed the boy to his tent, and after a long time\nreturned with unwelcome news. Two Tibetans had rushed out of the tent,\nstopped them, and asked roughly what they wanted. They replied very\nquietly that they wished to buy food; but there was nothing of the kind\nfor sale.\n\n\"But who are you?\" an elderly man asked.\n\n\"We are Ladakis in the service of a merchant, and we are on the way to\nSaka-dzong,\" they answered.\n\n\"No,\" the Tibetan exclaimed; \"you lie. No merchant travels this way,\nleast of all in winter; there is no trade in Chang-tang.\"\n\n\"We are not trading,\" Lobsang replied; \"we are commissioned to inquire\nhow much sheep's wool can be bought up next summer.\"\n\n\"Sheep's wool--in uninhabited districts! No; you are servants of a\nEuropean, who keeps himself out of sight in one of your tents. Out with\nthe truth, or it will be bad for you.\"\n\n\"Ask the boy here,\" returned Lobsang in his most innocent tone, \"if he\nsaw any European in our tent. We abhor Europeans as heartily as you. If\nyou doubt us, you can come to our tents and see for yourself.\"\n\n\"No, thank you; we will not come to your tent,\" the old man answered,\nand disappeared with his people behind the black hangings.\n\nLobsang was very serious when he came back, and proposed that, if we had\nnot already come to a standstill, we should in future set up our camp as\nfar as possible from the nomads. I was alarmed, and I had a feeling that\nwe should not advance much farther into the forbidden land. It was also\ndisappointing to be so openly suspected to be a European.\n\nNow good advice was precious, for evidently the nomads would betray us\nto the nearest authorities. At the evening's lesson in Tibetan, which\noccupied some hours, I discussed the situation with Lobsang and Kutus.\nIt was resolved that Abdul Kerim should go early in the morning to the\ntent, and if the nomads were still hostile we would try to lengthen our\nday's march so as to get out of the way of a probable summons to stop.\n\nThis time Lobsang met with a better reception, as he could present our\nchief and leader, whom the nomads correctly addressed as _bombo_. The\nold man introduced himself under the name of Sogbarong Tsering\nTundup--Sogbarong is his home in the west, and this name is placed\nbefore his own much as Anders Persson i Stor-g\u00e5rden. The old man invited\nhis guests into his tent, took a couple of sheep's trotters, cut them in\npieces with an axe, threw them into the caldron, and offered some broth\nto Abdul Kerim, saying it was the only tea he had. In the tent were five\nantelopes cut up, a gun, a knife, and other articles. The old man did\nnot this time express any suspicions of us, but related that a European\nwith a large caravan had crossed the country to the east more than a\nyear ago. He did not suspect, of course, that that same European was\nhiding in one of our tents. When the messengers came back they had a\nfine fat sheep and a can of milk with them.\n\nThis day, March 1, the wind was so strong that it was impossible to\ntravel. My tent fell over and was held fast by the load of sand and\nstones on its folds. Not a trace of the surroundings was visible, and I\nshould have obtained no notion of country on the route. At two o'clock\nTsering Tundup and another Tibetan came to return the visit. They\nemerged from the mist only when they were close at hand, and a couple of\nmen hastened to protect them from the dogs. The visit was a complete\nsurprise, but there was nothing which could excite the least suspicion.\nMy things were crammed into a sack, and I was disguised as usual;\nindeed, I had now no other clothing to put on. Even if they had come and\nlooked into my tent there would have been no danger.\n\nOur guests had capacious sheepskin coats drawn up above the belt so as\nto form the usual protruding bag where a large part of their property is\nstored. They wore hoods of sheepskin and looked like Samoyeds or\nChukchis. They stood a while and chatted with our men in the wind, but I\ndid not hear a word, though they were standing only 3 yards from the\nloophole in my tent through which I was watching them. After some\nhesitation, they went into Abdul Kerim's tent, and then the yak question\nwas discussed. They had only six yaks, which they required for their own\njourneys; but if we would buy sheep, they would let us have as many as\ntwelve, and each sheep could easily carry a fifth part of a mule's load.\nThe offer was accepted with pleasure, and the price was fixed at 38\nrupees. Then they went off through the storm and I felt safe again.\n\nThe purchase was concluded on March 2, and the twelve sheep stood with\ntheir heads together in the shelter of the men's tent. To start on our\ntravels was impossible, for we could not have kept our legs in such a\nstorm. We therefore remained here another day, and the men had full\noccupation in sewing sacks for the sheep, arranging and weighing the\nloads. I was worse off, for I had nothing to do and nothing to read, but\nI sat and wrote Tibetan notes and entered new words in my lexicon. Then\nI heard a hasty step coming towards my tent; it was Kunchuk bringing\nfire. A rustle, an oath, all the contents are swept out of the shovel,\nand the man has to crawl back to the camp-fire for more embers. So the\nday passes and the storm roars, and every one is weary and listless.\n\nDuring these stormy days our animals lay for the most part quietly in a\nhollow where they were sheltered from the wind. The storm kept them from\ngrazing, and they were much enfeebled by fasting. A white mule,\ntherefore, remained behind at Lumbur-ringmo-tso when we moved off\nsouth-eastwards on March 3 with 3 horses, 6 mules, and 12 sheep,\ndelighted that we had passed this critical point with a whole skin.\nFreshwater springs formed a number of picturesque ice volcanoes on the\nshore of the small lake. Before we encamped behind a projecting cliff,\nwe met three large flocks of sheep with their shepherds. On such\noccasions I always went on foot. The new sheep all carried burdens, and\ngave invaluable help to our tired animals. They were tied up every night\nbetween the tents that they might be safe from wolves, and the yellow\ndog from Gartok proved an excellent guard. They bleated piteously the\nfirst evening, probably distressed at leaving their native country. I\nwas sorry for them, for they had been treated as cruelly as Uncle Tom,\nbut in time they became quite accustomed to their new way of life.\n\nViolent storms prevailed all day and all the following day, on which we\npassed two black tents. At every camp we had to take the greatest care\nthat no pieces of paper, match-boxes, candle ends, or cigarette stumps\nwere left lying about, for we might be sure that the Tibetans dwelling\nnear would come and search about after we had left the spot. Our route\ntook us over a low pass (16,030 feet). The rocks comprised weathered\nschists, quartzite, and granite--the last only in detached blocks. On\nthe other side we followed a deeply excavated valley opening out on to a\nplain, and we were just setting up our tent by a projecting rock when\ntwo large black dogs came running towards us barking. Nomads, therefore,\nwere encamping in the neighbourhood, and we must be on our guard. Abdul\nKerim, who always showed himself prudent and tactful in delicate\nnegotiations, went off to a tent which stood on the other side of the\nrock and was inhabited by four Senkor nomads who owned 400 sheep. The\nchief of them was named Shgoge, and sold us three sheep at 3 rupees a\nhead, some butter and milk. He said that the country here, around camp\n345, was called Pankur, and that we were three days' journey from the\nencampment of the Gertse Pun, or the chief of Gertse. With him, however,\nwe had nothing to do. It was to our interest to avoid as much as\npossible officials of all kinds, not to approach Gertse or Senkor in the\nwest too closely, and not too near my route of 1906 to the east. We must\nsteer our way through many pitfalls. Just in this district we crossed\nthe meridian of 84\u00b0 E., and my plan was to travel due south from the\nTong-tso right across the large blank space. The continual storms which\nhad done us so much harm, were so far advantageous to us that they\nenabled us to cross the great wastes without being much noticed. This\nday all was hazy from the dust, and our neighbours' sheep, which passed\nmy tent in long columns with shepherds and dogs, made a very curious\nspectacle in the dense mist.\n\nMarch 5. Abdul Kerim obtained two more sheep, and now we had seventeen\nto help the mules and horses. Our intention was to increase our sheep\ncaravan by degrees, and make ourselves independent of the other animals.\nWe must also have a spare horse for Abdul Kerim, for he was our master,\nand it was incongruous that he should go on foot while I, a simple\ncaravan man, rode. This day we had the storm at our back, and we\ntravelled 8\u00bd miles over the same even, excellent ground which had made\nprogress easier since we left Lemchung-tso. We encamped at a sheepfold\nand enjoyed the feeling that there were no neighbours to spy on us. A\nsheep was slaughtered; only the worst were sacrificed for food, and were\nto be replaced by new ones when an opportunity presented itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXII\n\nADVENTURES OF OURSELVES AND PUPPY IN NAGRONG\n\n\nOn March 6 we made another hop towards our destination. It is difficult\nto travel over the high plateaus of Tibet in winter, and we could not\nmarch more than four hours a day. The morning was clear, but we had not\ngone far beyond a small lake, with its mantle of ice covered with\ndriftsand and dust, before the storm increased in violence and made me\nreel in the saddle. The clouds of dust became thicker, the sandspouts\nwere dark reddish-brown at the base, and the gusts tore up furrows in\nthe ground like ploughshares, while frequently spiral forms were seen\nwhich could only be produced by cyclonic whirlwinds. On the left hand\nshimmered a lake, its surface partly white with gypsum and salt, partly\nstreaked brown with driftsand, and with open water only in two places;\nit was the ghost of a lake which was doomed to disappear.\n\nTwo built-up fireplaces served us capitally for a camping-ground on the\nshore where the grazing was good. On the eastern side of the lake was a\nbrick-red ridge of medium height, which I wished to paint in order to\nrecord the effective tones in the dust mist. I waited for the others\nwith Kutus and Gulam, and we had scarcely induced a fire to burn before\nthe storm rose at noon to a hurricane. Now everything vanished--lake,\nridge, all except the nearest tufts of grass. The fire was fenced in\nwith stones and clods lest it should be blown away, sand and minute\npebbles beat against my dry skin coat, and I had to cover all my face,\nfor the skin smarted as though lashed by whip-cord, if it were exposed\nfor a second to the wind. Fortunately the others made their way to us.\nEvery man had to lend a hand to raise my tent. At length Gulam came\ncrawling backwards and yelled into my ear that the tent was ready. With\nstraddling legs and all my muscles on the stretch I fought my way to it,\nand was glad to catch hold of a tent rope before I was blown down. At\nlast I was under cover and could recover my breath. The tent cloth was\npuffed out like a balloon, and threatened every moment to burst with a\nreport. The sand and rubbish beat upon it, producing a deafening noise.\nIt was as dark as at twilight, and the wind roared and whined through\nthe grass. The men tried to set up their own tent, but when the wind had\noverturned it twice they let it lie, weighting it with the baggage that\nit might not fly away. Five Ladakis lay in the lee of my tent rolled up\nlike hedgehogs, and I let them come in, where they sat silent and\nmotionless for a couple of hours. The others had crept under the ruins\nof their unfortunate tent. Puppy and Little Puppy lay in a corner and\nkept each other warm. However, the temperature was 35.8\u00b0, and we had not\nhad such warmth for three months. A long and dismal evening! It was with\ndifficulty I got a piece of bread, a cup of tea, and a piece of dried\nmeat. We were deaf and dizzy when at length we sought repose under our\nrugs, while the storm continued to rage outside.\n\nI awoke to hear the same old music, and to go out to my horse was like\nplunging into icy-cold water. Neither the sky nor the horizon was\nvisible, and the mountains were dim shadows. With Kutus and Gulam I led\nthe way, following a path trodden by men. Dark, chill, and doleful was\nthe land of eternal twilight, frost, and the wicked demons of the air.\nAfter a march of 8 miles we halted at the edge of a belt of ice, a\nfrozen stream in several branches, which ran to the south-west. The gale\nflew over the clear sheet of ice, and the red dust was swept over it\nlike flames. With the assistance of Kutus I slid over to the other side,\nand in the shelter of the opening of a small valley we made the usual\nfire.\n\nThe caravan came to the edge of the ice. It was impossible to sand a\npath, for the grains would have been swept away. The animals were led\nacross singly, each helped over by several men. For all that a mule fell\nand gave a fearful wrench to one of its hind legs, and with great\ndifficulty it was helped up to the camp. All of us had grey distorted\nfaces, our eyes ran, full of sand and dust. My lips bled and my teeth\nwere black. March is the worst month, but we had never experienced such\nbad weather before. What is the use of looking forward to spring when\nthe days are darker as time goes on?\n\nThe injured mule had evidently dislocated its leg. It was thrown down\nand a rope was fastened round its hoof and the end was pulled by the\nmen. When it was at full stretch Lobsang hit the rope hard with a\ntent-pole in order to set the dislocated joint in place again, but I\ncould not perceive that the operation had any effect. No; the mule was\nlost to us just when we could ill afford to lose one of our best\nanimals.\n\nAnd it was lost indeed, for on the morning of March 8 it could not take\na step. It was sad to pass the death sentence, and a pitiful sight when\nthe fresh warm blood spurted out in powerful jets and moistened the\nbarren soil. It lay quiet and patiently, and after a few convulsions\nexpired, and was left in solitude when we moved on over the dreary\nwaste.\n\nBut before starting I had ascended a hill and looked around. Which was\nmore expedient--to travel north-east or south-west? Both directions lay\nout of our course. I decided for the south-west, and hastened down to my\ntent, where Gulam served up breakfast. Brown Puppy and Little Puppy gave\nme their company to get their share. Little Puppy had grown so much that\nhe could do what he liked with his mother. When I gave her a piece of\nmeat the young one flew upon her and took it away. I had to hold Little\nPuppy that his mother might eat in peace. When we set out, Puppy and the\nyellow dog remained behind with the slaughtered mule, finding a\nconvenient point of departure in an open wound in the soft muscles of\nthe neck. There they stood gorging when we started along the ice-belt of\nthe stream towards the south-west.\n\nWith my usual followers I rode in advance. The suffocating, blinding,\ndeafening storm was right in our faces. Gulam walked in front, stopped,\nlooked through the field-glass, and gave me the sign to dismount. The\nstream swept round the foot of a cliff in front of us.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked Gulam when we came up to him.\n\n\"A large stone house with a wall and a couple of smaller huts. They are\nnot visible at this moment because of the mist, but they lie close to\nthe foot of the mountain.\"\n\n\"Yes; now they can be seen. It is strange that no dogs rush at us.\"\n\n\"What is to be done? Shall we turn back? Surely a chieftain lives here,\nand he will come and search us down to the skin.\"\n\n\"No; it is too late, for we must have been seen already.\"\n\nHow I regretted that we had not travelled to the north-east! But we must\nput on a good face in our unlucky situation. We passed the village at a\ndistance of 100 yards, and halted in the shelter of the dark porphyry\ncrag crowned by two _chhortens_ and a _mani_. At least it was pleasant\nto get shelter for a moment. It was like taking refuge in a gateway when\nit pours. All around was dead and dreary; no one was seen; only a couple\nof jackdaws croaked, and a hare sped out of its form so near us that we\ncould have caught it with the hand if we had been alert. Kutus and Gulam\nwent out to gather fuel. I searched the suspicious neighbourhood with\nthe field-glass, where treachery seemed to lurk behind every projection.\nIt cleared a little towards the south-east, enough for me to detect a\nblack tent of unusual size about 200 yards off. Four strings with\nprayer-streamers were stretched out from a high pole. I had been in\nhopes that we should get past the first dwellings, as no dogs had shown\nthemselves, but I had never heard of an uninhabited tent. And the\noutward appearance of this tent indicated the presence of an important\nchief. Thanks to the mist, we had stumbled right on to his camp, and he\nwould not be caught napping by poor strolling Ladakis.\n\nGulam had been to the large house, the yard door of which stood open,\nand had found in a shed a large quantity of fuel of a kind of shrub the\nTibetans call _ombo_. So we waited and waited, expecting to see the\ncaravan emerge from the mist, but when nothing was heard of it Kutus\nwent out to search. It had wandered quite out of its course, and had\nmade a long circuit round the house and tent, for the leaders were\nconvinced that I wished to slip by unnoticed. A horse had fallen, and\nnow we had only two left, and 5 mules out of 40 animals.\n\nThe three tents were set up in a line close together, and Abdul Kerim\nwent with Kunchuk to the large tent. We saw through the mist that a man\ncame out to meet them, and that all three went into the tent, and then\nwe waited with our hearts in our mouths. The men returned at dusk with\ngood news. The tent was inhabited by a lonely old Amchi-lama, _i.e._ a\nmonk-doctor, who at the same time looked after the souls of the Nagrong\nnomads, determined from astrological books the lucky and unlucky days\nfor baptisms and other affairs, and assisted people with the same\nremedies when they were sick, died, and finally were buried. He was from\nSera in Lhasa, and had lived three years in Nagrong. The tent was a\nmovable temple, furnished inside with altars, burning butter lamps, and\nvotive bowls, where the hermit performed service--we heard him beating a\ntemple drum at midnight. It belonged, as well as the large house, to the\nGertse Pun Bombo, or the chief of the Gertse district, who a few days\nbefore had gone off a day's journey to the east, with his flocks,\nchildren, and all, but was soon expected back in consequence of a\ndispute between two of his subjects. Perhaps, after all, it was well we\ntravelled south-west instead of north-east, for we might have fallen\ninto the jaws of the Gertse Pun himself. This potentate comes to Nagrong\nin late summer and takes up his abode in the stone house, while a\nhundred nomad tents are set up around and a fair is held.\n\nThe old lama had no servants, but every third day a man came to bring\nhim wood. He must find it dull in the long winter evenings, when he\nhears the storm roaring outside, and silence reigns within around the\ngods who answer his prayers and the rolls of his drum with a smile of\nreconciliation. But probably he is a philosopher and has no fear of the\ndangers of the night. In his tent lay several sacks full of _tsamba_,\nbarley, rice, and butter, but he had no authority to sell anything\nwithout the permission of the Gertse Pun. Instead, he pointed out where\nthe tent of the Pun's brother-in-law stood, where all kinds of prime\ngoods could be bought.\n\nWe therefore decided to remain where we were over March 9, and Abdul\nKerim with three attendants sought out the brother-in-law, met with a\nfriendly reception, and bought five sheep and two goats, besides two\nsheep-loads of rice and as much barley, and also a bag of tobacco, which\nthe men had long wanted. All day long I was a prisoner in my tent; my\nperiod of freedom was over. And when the evening came and enveloped the\ndreary Nagrong valley in its shadows, I could think of nothing else but\nmy old trusty comrade, the oldest of all that had been with me in Tibet,\nBrown Puppy. In the company of the yellow dog she had remained in the\nmorning with the mule which had dislocated its leg, and I had seen\nnothing of her since. We had hoped, however, that she would find us\nagain, as she had so often done before, but now we were convinced that\nshe had lost our trail, and, desperate and crazy with anxiety, was\nseeking for us over hill and dale, only to wander farther and farther\nfrom the right direction. It was useless to send men after her, and it\nwas not advisable to divide our small party at such a critical time. The\ndogs had remained a long time tearing at the mule's neck, and when at\nlast they were satiated they had started to follow us and had lost our\ntrack in the terrible wind and sand clouds. If they once crossed over\nice they would never find our track again. Now thoughts of my old tent\ncompanion worried me more than anything else. Only that very morning she\nhad lain on her felt rug in the usual corner, and we had breakfasted\ntogether. Where was she? what was she doing at this moment? Day and\nnight she would run barking and whining over desolate Chang-tang with\nher nose to the ground, searching for our track till her paws were torn\nand painful. What would she do when night came down with its dreadful\ndarkness and its prowling wolves? Were the dogs keeping together, or\nwere they seeking us along different paths, having lost each other?\nWould Puppy some time find a home with friendly nomads and lead a\ncomfortable life again, or would she come to want and be tied outside a\npoor tent, and, pining in hopeless sorrow, remember her past life,\nwhich, from when she lapped milk in my room at Srinagar, had been spent\nin my caravan? I was never to receive an answer to these questions, for\nthe parts she and the yellow dog played in our romance were ended. For\nthe future her life would shape itself differently, but I was never to\ngain any knowledge of the remaining chapters of her existence. I lay\nawake at night thinking of her misfortune, and looked every morning to\nsee if perchance she had come back in the night and was lying in her\nusual corner, and I fancied I heard her trotting outside my tent in the\ndusk, or thought I could distinguish the profile of a lonely\nhalf-starved dog on a mound or crag with its nose up and howling at the\nstorm. For some time I suffered from a delusion, imagining that a shade,\nthe restless soul, the invisible ghost of a dog followed me wherever I\nwent. I felt the presence of an invisible dog which followed me into my\ntent, and among the Tibetans, and always whined and pleaded for help,\nand I was worried that I could give no help or consolation to my lost,\nwandering friend. But soon we had other things to think of, other dogs\nbecame my friends, and we were daily entangled in a skein of troubles\nwhich must lead to a crisis, and the cares of the past paled before the\ngravity of the moment.\n\n[Illustration: 318. THE AUTHOR AS A SHEPHERD.]\n\nMarch 10. Such a day as this is interesting to look back on, but it was\nhard and cruel as long as it lasted. Before six o'clock I was awakened\nwith the disquieting information that two Tibetans were approaching our\ntents. I made haste to dress myself and paint my face and hands black\nwith a thin coating. Meanwhile the strangers arrived and were invited\ninto Abdul Kerim's tent, where I heard them talking pleasantly about\nsheep and money--so they were not spies; our time had not yet come.\nOne of the guests was the brother-in-law, the other a neighbour of his,\nwho, when he heard what a good price we paid for sheep, said he was\nready to sell us four he had brought with him, as well as a lively goat.\nAbdul Kerim had received a general order to buy all the sheep he could\nprocure, so he took them. The goat was, as has been said, a lively\nbeast, and he ran off at once and could not be caught again.\n\nThe two Tibetans went off to the lama's tent to drink tea, but the\ncritical time was not yet over, for probably they would return to see us\nstart. Therefore, while the tents were still standing, I set out with\nTubges, Little Kunchuk, and \"Snoring Kunchuk,\" as we called Sonam\nKunchuk on account of his terrible timber-sawing propensities, when they\ndrove our thirty-one sheep down the valley. As we went off the Tibetans\ncame out and watched us, but did not suspect anything wrong. To escape\ndetection I had hurriedly turned to sheep-driving (Illust. 318), but I\nsoon found that I had no natural aptitude for this occupation, so\ninvigorating, but so trying to the patience. I fancied I imitated my\nLadakis as closely as possible, whistled and shouted in the same way,\nand threw out my arms when a sheep left the crowd, but the animals\nshowed me not the least obedience, but went where they liked when I was\nnear. After an hour's walk in the teeth of the wind I had had enough,\nand while the other shepherds went on with the sheep, Kunchuk and I\nstayed in a cranny out of sight of the lama's tent, while I could look\nover all the valley.\n\nAt length the other men came with Abdul Kerim riding at their head. Our\ncoats and turbans were of the same colour, so that any Tibetans who\nhappened to be watching could not tell if it were Abdul Kerim or I that\nwas riding. I now took my horse and went on in front with my usual\ncompanions. At eleven o'clock the storm rose to a furious pitch and\ndashed in our faces. Driftsand swept over the ground in dense masses; we\nwere nearly suffocated, and we seemed to stand still while the country\nmoved past us at a giddy pace. We crossed the valley in order to follow\nits western flank. The clouds of dust obscured the sun; nothing could be\nseen beyond a distance of 20 yards; chaos surrounded us. We stopped to\nget our breath, and lest we should miss the others, but as soon as they\nappeared like phantoms in the mist we set off again. I have experienced\nmany sandstorms in Takla-makan and the Lob-nor desert, but hardly any so\nbad as this was. In Turkestan one simply encamps when a storm comes on,\nbut what is the use of encamping to await the end of a storm which lasts\nthirty days? We strayed among small dunes, and, though the valley fell\nin the direction we were travelling, we seemed as though we were\nmounting to a lofty pass in consequence of the pressure of the storm.\nThe driftsand rattled against my dry, hard coat, which, from the\nconstant friction, became heavily charged with electricity. About every\nother minute there was a discharge, and I felt uncomfortable and often\npainful prickings, especially in the soles of the feet, the hands, and\nknees. At every such discharge the horse also pulled up and became\nnervous. At last, when my grey Tikze horse refused to go further, and we\nhad quite lost sight of the others, and could not see where we were\ngoing, we came to a halt and huddled together with our backs to the\nwind. The electrical discharges continued even now, but were weaker. If\nI placed the tip of a finger near Gulam's or Kutus' hand a small\nelectric spark was felt and seen, and both of us felt the shock. The men\nwere exceedingly astonished, and hoped it was not witchcraft.\n\nWe sat waiting for three hours, and were prepared for an uncomfortable\nnight. But Kutus came upon the other men just when they were giving up\nall attempt to find us before night. We encamped among the dunes, and\nbefore long all articles which were set out in my tent vanished under a\nthick layer of sand.\n\nOn the morning of the 11th the storm had somewhat abated; and, wearied\nand stiff after our experiences of the previous night, we continued our\njourney southwards and encamped at a deserted sheepfold. By nine o'clock\ncompact sandspouts twisted slowly over the plain like spectres, so the\nstorm was again at its usual height. We had _tsamba_ for only one day,\nbut it did not count for much as long as we had such a good supply of\nmeat. We were glad to get out of reach of the Gertse Pun; in this\ndrifting sand it was impossible to find our trail--yes, even for our own\ndogs. Little Puppy did not miss his mother, but felt very important at\nbeing sole master on the ground, and barked at our sober sheep. It was,\nhowever, a serious matter for us that we were deprived of our\nnight-watch in districts where we had most need of them. We must try to\nprocure fresh dogs as soon as possible.\n\nOn March the 12th we marched the usual weary 6\u00bd miles to the\neast-south-east through a fine, broad, longitudinal valley, and pitched\nour camp in a hollow full of rubbish. Our three tents were now always\nplaced close together, so that, if any stranger came unexpectedly to my\ntent, I could crawl into Abdul Kerim's without being seen from outside.\nMy Ladak _chapkan_ began to assume a more satisfactory colour, but we\nstill did all we could to defile it and make it sooty and greasy. Little\nPuppy lent me his assistance by biting and tearing the sleeves so that\nthey hung in rags. It would not be long before I had the appearance of a\nregular ruffian.\n\nIt snowed heavily all night, and in the morning the snow lay so deep,\nand the country was so thickly covered, that we thought it best to\nremain stationary. We were still farther removed from Brown Puppy, and\nit was vain for her to seek our trail. Perhaps it was providential that\nboth she and the white horse were lost before they could betray us.\nTibetans have wonderfully sharp eyes for animals, and recognize them\nagain when they have seen them only once. Now the danger was over, for\nall the veterans had gone. Perhaps Puppy sacrificed herself that I might\nbe successful! All the same, I seemed to see her wandering disconsolate\nand distressed about the desolate wastes in the north.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXIII\n\nTHROUGH THE HIGHLANDS OF BONGBA\n\n\nWhen I awake to another day of uncertain fortune and adventures life\nseems gloomy and solitary, and the longer the time the more I long for\nan end of my difficulties. When Gulam awoke me on the 14th, he\ncomplained that Abdul Kerim did not keep the watch I had given him in\norder; either the watch or the caravan leader was at fault, but he\nbelieved it was the latter, for the watch could not be blamed if it were\nwound up only every other day. Gulam affirmed that when Abdul Kerim was\nasked what o'clock it was, he always answered seven, whatever time it\nmight be in the twenty-four hours.\n\nThe thermometer fell to -11\u00b0 in the night, but the day was fine. The\nwind blew as usual, but the sun came out and we thought of spring again.\nThree shepherds were taking some hundreds of sheep to the west, which\nhad been driven off from their pasturage by the recent snow and were\nlooking for uncovered land. We were only a day's journey from the\nTong-tso (14,800 feet), they said, and the Tong-tso was the point from\nwhich we were to start southwards to traverse unknown country. If I\nsucceeded in crossing it only by a single route, all the troubles of the\npast winter would not have been in vain. The shepherds' information was\ncorrect, for the next day we bivouacked on the western shore of the\nTong-tso, which we found exactly at the place where the immortal pundit,\nNain Sing, inserted it on his map. To the south-east towered the huge\nmassive Sha-kangsham, along the northern foot of which I had ridden in\n1901.\n\nNow we had to find a convenient pass over the mountain which barred our\nway to the south. A gap was seen to the south-east, and we directed our\nsteps towards it. On our right, two tents stood at the foot of a hill,\nand Abdul Kerim was sent to them while we encamped in a deep narrow\nravine, at the bottom of which we found a large quantity of wind-driven\nkiang dung and dry tufts of grass. On his return, our good leader\nreported that he was rudely received by two men, named Nakchu Tundup and\nNakchu Hlundup, who came from the district Nakchu, three days' journey\ndistant to the south, and had a wife in common. They first asked how\nmany we were and how many guns we had, just as though they wished to\nknow whether they and their neighbours might venture to attack us. They\nthen said that they had seen a man riding at the head of our party,\nwhile all the rest, Abdul Kerim included, went on foot, and that it was\nnot hard to guess that the mounted man was a European. When Abdul Kerim\nreplied that no Europeans travel in winter, for they are too much afraid\nof the cold, and that we were only wool-buyers from Ladak, the Tibetans\nshook their heads and answered that they had never heard of Ladakis\ntravelling in this country in winter. But, nevertheless, Abdul succeeded\nin gaining their confidence, and when he had paid double the market\nprice for two yaks and six sheep, the Tibetans forgot their suspicions,\nall for the sake of filthy lucre. The purchase was to be completed the\nfollowing morning. Then the new animals were fetched, and their carrying\npower was a welcome assistance to our animals. Fortunately, the nomads\nhad in general the greatest respect for our tents. It was important for\nus to make liberal bargains with men who at first had been hostile to\nus. On the other hand, they often abstained from betraying us, even if\nthey had suspicions, for if it were known that they had been well paid,\nthe nearest chief would confiscate their receipts and would also punish\nthe unfortunate men who had dared to traffic with suspected individuals.\n\nDuring the day's march I rode in front as usual, with my two companions\non foot. A tent lay concealed behind a cliff, and we did not notice it\nuntil we were some way past it, and then it was too late to dismount.\nTwo fellows were outside and looked after us, and if they compared notes\nwith their neighbours they would have good cause for suspicion. At our\ncamp that day we had a visit from an old man and two young people, who\nhad their tent near and came to see what kind of men we were. They said\nthat they were very poor, and begged for some coppers. We were on the\nborder of the district Bongba-changma, which contains 300 tents, and,\nlike the whole province of Bongba, is subject to the governor Karma\nPuntso, whose tent stood at a distance of six days' journey to the\nsouth. He was a man of twenty-five years of age, lived in a large tent,\nand had been in office only a year, since his father died. It was\nassuring to know that he could have no experience of Europeans and their\ncrafty ways. After the strangers had received a couple of _tengas_ from\nAbdul Kerim, they went home again in the rays of the evening sun,\ndelighted to find that we were not robbers.\n\nThen the temperature fell to -16\u00b0; the winter was remarkably trying, but\nthe day, March 18, was still fine, and I travelled all the way on foot,\ndriving the sheep while we were passing several tents. Among them was\nthat of our old man of the day before, and he proved to be a man of\nproperty, who sold us various much-needed articles of food. On the way\nTubges shot seven partridges, whereupon two Tibetans came forward and\nprotested, saying that only Europeans shot partridges. Abdul Kerim\nassured them that he preferred partridges to mutton. Again there was\ntalk of Karma Puntso. Perhaps it would be better to choose another way.\nNo; then the governor would be still more suspicious. We encamped on the\nnorthern side of a small pass, where we had no troublesome neighbours.\n\nMarch 19. Breakfast, a delicate partridge and a cup of tea, was just\nover when it was announced that three Tibetans were coming up to our\ntents. But they stopped at a respectful distance, and Abdul Kerim went\nup to them. My tent was opened in this direction, but was closed again\njust in time. The Tibetans' errand was to ask if we had any medicine\nsuitable for a man who had a pain in the foot. In reality, their object\nwas to spy upon us when we set out, for they stayed all the time and\nlooked about. After my hands and face had been coloured black, I stole\nby the secret passage into Abdul Kerim's tent, while Kutus and Gulam\ncrawled by the same way into mine to pack up. Then I went with Lobsang\nand Kutus, and drove the sheep up the track leading to the pass (16,135\nfeet). We had not gone far when Abdul Kerim came riding on my horse and\nmade frantic gestures to us to stop. A Tibetan horseman, followed by a\nbig dog, would meet us in a few moments on the path. We therefore took a\nroundabout way among hillocks, while the caravan encountered the\nTibetan. In this way we escaped the danger. Soon came Kunchuk and Sedik,\nleading the dog with a rope on either side--a savage brute, which barked\ntill he foamed at the mouth, and tried to bite those who were taking him\naway from his master. He was of the species called _takkar_, and Takkar\nwas his name. He reminded me of a St. Bernard; he was coal black, with a\nwhite patch on the chest and neck, and was as savage as a wolf. They had\nbought him for 2 rupees.\n\nMoreover, Abdul Kerim had also bought the rider's horse for 86 rupees,\nand he came jogging cheerfully after us as we rode down from the summit\nof the pass to a longitudinal valley abounding in tents and herds of\nsheep and yaks, and at two spots were seen mounted men, who looked\nuncomfortably like a levy. The new horse was eleven years old, the owner\nsaid, and if he passed well over his fifteenth year, he would live to\nthirty--but we did not want him so long. He was a new member of our\ntroop and excited general interest, and Takkar became quieter when he\nsaw an old friend and comrade in misfortune.\n\nAt the camp we had to be careful, for nomads dwelt near and shepherds\nwandered with their flocks on the slopes around. To prevent Takkar from\nrunning away he was tied by the neck to a tent pole, an operation by no\nmeans easy. He was tied fast with ropes, his legs were fettered, and a\nfelt mat was thrown over him, on which four men sat while the others\nmade him fast to the pole. Immediately he was let loose he rushed at\nthose nearest him, but was held back by the pole. It was a sin to drag\nhim from home against his will; he was another Uncle Tom who suffered\nfor our sake, but I hoped that we should soon understand each other. To\nconsole him in his captivity he was given the blood and entrails of the\nslaughtered sheep.\n\nWe crossed another small pass (19,537 feet) on the 20th, and the\ninsignificant lake Shar-tso, where a fine spring bubbles up out of the\nground by the shore. From a couple of tents to the west we bought tea,\nbutter, and _tsamba_ sufficient for several days, and heard again about\nKarma Puntso. This time it was said that he lived three days to the\nwest, and we hoped to slip past without any disturbance. The country\nabout camp 359 is called Luma-shar, and we stayed on the northern bank\nof the large river Kangsham-tsangpo, which comes from the northern flank\nof Sha-kangsham, the huge massive which I left to the south of my route\nin 1901, and which showed us a magnificent view of its western side. The\nmountain lay about a couple of days' journey to the south-east.\n\nThe next day we were to cross the river, an exceedingly unpleasant\nbusiness; for though there had been 32 degrees of frost in the night the\nice, except close to the bank, would not bear. Abdul made an attempt\nwith his horse, but the animal came down on his nose in the middle of\nthe river. Then Lobsang took off his boots and went across the river\nbarefooted, and came back again to help in conducting our pack animals\ngently and firmly across. To get the sheep over was the worst\ndifficulty; they had to be pushed and pulled by the horns, one at a\ntime. Almost all the men of the caravan got a refreshing bath in the\nstream (Illust. 363).\n\nOn the other side we ascended to a small pass where there was a splendid\nview over the ridge, which seemed to run west-south-west from\nSha-kangsham and which barred our way to the south. Abdul Kerim,\nKunchuk, and Sedik went with an exhausted mule to a few tents standing\nto the right of our route, with the object of bartering the worn-out\nbeast for a couple of sheep, but the nomads said they would not take it\nas a gift. Instead, our men bought rice, sour milk, butter, salt, and a\nsheep, so that we were provided for some days. From the camp also Abdul\nKerim took a long walk to some tents in the neighbourhood. Now poor\nAbdul Kerim had to do penance for his sins, and if he had erred in\ntaking too little barley from Ladak, he made up for it by his conduct on\nthis adventurous journey.\n\nFrom camp 360 the highest peak of Sha-kangsham lay south, 73\u00b0 E.\n(Illust. 317).\n\nTakkar is still irreconcilable, and heartily detests Kunchuk who bought\nhim. But he also barks at us as soon as we show ourselves outside the\ntents. On the march he is resigned as long as he is near our new horse,\nbut at other times he is savage. The only one that dares go near him is\nLittle Puppy, who teases and sports with him and bites his ears. Takkar\ntreats Little Puppy with supreme contempt, and only when the young one\npresumes to snatch his new uncle's food he growls angrily, but then\nLittle Puppy pricks up his ears, puts his head on one side, and looks at\nhim. He little thought that the new dog could have bitten off his head\nlike a chicken's if he had wished. In reality, Takkar was glad to have a\nplayfellow in his captivity, though at first he held himself aloof to\nmaintain his dignity.\n\nThe next morning Lobsang and Tubges went back to the nomads' tent and\nreturned with three more sheep, a lump of butter, and a bag of tobacco.\nTheir appetites were wonderful to behold. The others had left for them\nhalf a pot of tea mixed with butter, thick and red. One cup disappeared\nafter another, and they emptied the pot to the last drop. Then they took\nsome meat out, which they ate up like wild beasts. What was left they\nstuffed into their waistbelts, to have it handy in case they were hungry\nbefore we reached the next camp.\n\nWe continued on our way to the south, passing on our left hand an open\nplain which extended up to the foot of the skirts of Sha-kangsham. We\npassed tents and flocks at one or two places, and encamped on a hill of\nloose material beside a spring. The nomads around had nothing to sell,\nbut gave Abdul Kerim much valuable information. On such occasions\nKunchuk used to sit and secretly note down all the geographical names.\nAmong other details we now heard that if we held on our journey to the\nsouth for seven days we should fall in with a rich merchant from Lhasa,\nnamed Tsongpun Tashi, who was wont to take up his quarters in winter in\nthe heart of the Bongba province to sell tea to the nomads. We might be\ncertain that if we came into the neighbourhood of his camp we should\nagain be in a critical situation.\n\nNow Lobsang and two weather-beaten Ladakis complained that they slept\nbadly, because it was too warm in the tent. The former wore a set of\nunderclothes, and above only a garment of thin woollen material. In this\ncostume he had travelled all the way from Drugub, and slept in 72\ndegrees of frost with only a couple of sacks over him, for he had sold\nhis skin coat to one of his comrades at the commencement of the journey.\nOnly a Tibetan can survive such an experience.\n\nOn March 23 we struggled up to the Chaklam-la, which we also heard\ncalled Amchen-la. The path up to it is steep, and we moved exceedingly\nslowly up the ascent. The sheep and the two yaks beat us hollow. From\nthe last tent the path was visible all the way up to the pass, so I was\nobliged to travel on foot, and I might have collapsed from palpitation\nof the heart and loss of breath if Lobsang had not gone behind and\npushed me. The lives of two mules had been ebbing away during the\nprevious days, so the animals were left where nomads could take\npossession of them. A black horse was also giving in, and the newly\nbought one had to take over his load. My grey horse was no longer worth\nmuch. Chaklam-la, with its 17,339 feet, was a heavy trial to us, and I\nwas not delighted with the view which unrolled itself to the south--a\nlabyrinth of mountains, where it was plain to see that the ranges all\nstretched from east to west. From the pass there is a steep descent to\nthe river Sangchen-chu, which flows westwards. We encamped on its bank.\nNow Takkar was becoming resigned to his fate. He was certainly annoyed\nat being tied to the pole, but he found that he got good and plentiful\nfood and that we were kind to him. He barked only at Kunchuk, whom he\ncould never forgive.\n\nWhen we broke up our camp on March 24, we hesitated whether we should\nmake for the south-west or south-east, for high mountains rose to the\nsouth. If we went south-westwards we should come too near to Karma\nPuntso, and so we chose the south-easterly route. We had first to cross\nthe ice of the river, 130 yards broad, where a path was sanded. The\nsheep had to be dragged over one by one by the horns, and the yaks would\nnot venture on the ice till they saw that it bore the horses and mules.\nGulam went first on foot, and had the usual order to give a sign if he\nsaw a tent or shepherds. We had not gone far when he stretched out his\nleft hand, which meant that I must dismount and go on foot while Abdul\nKerim rode my horse. It was only a shepherd with his flock. As soon as\nthe danger was past I exchanged places with the caravan leader.\n\nA little farther on I found that I had lost my cigarette case, which\nalso contained some unmounted family portraits and one or two pieces of\nsticking-plaster. It would be terrible if a Tibetan found it. Only a\nEuropean could own such a thing. Lobsang and Kutus went back and\nsearched along the track while I lay and waited on a bank. They found\nthe case, and each received a cigarette as a reward, and we sat and\nsmoked while Abdul Kerim with Kunchuk and Tubges went down to a tent,\nwhere there were only women, and bought some provisions. At the camp in\nthe evening snow fell, and at night the thermometer sank to zero. Now we\nhad only 21 sheep left, and we must try to increase our flock, or, still\nbetter, buy a dozen horses. In this region, and in Bongba generally, it\nwas difficult to buy sheep. Everywhere the nomads complained that their\nflocks had been decimated by the cold, wind, and snow, and the pasturage\nwas unusually poor, because the rains had failed at the end of the\npreceding summer. Sheep-breeding is their means of subsistence, and if\nthey lose their flocks they are impoverished and can do nothing but\nwander about begging from more fortunate people. They have therefore a\ndecided objection to diminish their flocks by artificial means, as we\nmay say; the flocks must fluctuate, increasing in good times and\ndiminishing in bad, but they must not be reduced by sale. Therefore they\noften refuse to sell even at double the proper price. Still harder was\nit to buy horses in Bongba.\n\nIn the night our animals wandered back to the former camp. While Lobsang\nand Kutus went after them most of the day slipped by, and therefore we\nremained at camp 363. Kunchuk and Tubges spied a tent in a valley to the\nsouth, where they bought rice, barley, _tsamba_, milk, and _chura_--a\nkind of cheese, so that we had food for several days. Thus we got our\nlivelihood in small portions, bit by bit and from tent to tent. Our own\nflock had now shrunk to 21 head, all carrying burdens.\n\nA solitary wild-goose flew screaming over our camp. Had he got lost, or\nwas he a scout sent out to see if the ice were broken up on the lakes to\nthe north? Doubtless he would soon return to his tribe and make his\nreport. It seemed to me that he had been despatched too soon.\n\nFrom February 24 to March 24 we had traversed only 190 miles, owing to\nthe cutting storm, loss of animals, and now at length the difficult\ncountry. We now seldom made a day's march of as much as 7 miles.\n\nIt is most irritating that a tent, like a sentinel-box or a spying eye,\nalways stands at the northern foot of a pass, so that I have to walk all\nthe way. This day also, when we crept up to the Sanchen-la, a small\nshelter stood on the saddle, 17,572 feet high. Southwards there were\nstill more mountains. At a distance of 20 to 25 miles north, 60\u00b0 E.,\nrose the highest peak of Sha-kangsham, a fine sight in the beautiful\nweather, when not a cloud obstructed the view. Five Ovis Ammons careered\nin nimble and elastic springs over the heights, and small agile Goa\nantelopes leaped along the southern slope, where we scrambled down among\ndetritus. The Pantholops antelope is not seen in this region.\n\nClose to where we encamped at Nema-tok was a tent, and the inmates sold\nus a sheep's load of rice. An old man, whom my fellows called familiarly\n_ava_ or father, came to look at our black horse which we wished to\nsell, as it could evidently not travel much farther. But the old man\nsaid he would not give a rap for the horse. He informed us that in nine\ndays nomads from all quarters would repair to the place where Karma\nPuntso dwelt, to buy tea and pay their taxes to the Government. Tsongpun\nTashi was a powerful and influential man, he said. We drew near to this\npotentate with a feeling of uneasiness and growing respect. He enjoys\npeculiar privileges from the Devashung. He sells tea to the nomads on\ncredit. When they sell their sheep's wool in summer at the _tasam_ they\npay their debts to him in _tengas_ or in goods. Tsongpun Tashi makes a\ngood profit on these transactions, and therefore it is to his interest\nto stand well with the Devashung. If he, who must have the reputation of\nbeing more intelligent and sensible than the simple nomads, were to let\nus pass by with impunity, he would have to answer for it to the\nDevashung and would lose his privileges. We were therefore evidently\ncoming to a most critical moment.\n\nNothing venture, nothing have! If I would explore the blank space in the\nheart of which I now found myself, I must expose myself to various\nannoyances and run great risks. For a moderately intelligent man it\ncould be no particular pleasure to go on foot through desolate wastes\nlike a vagabond, and drive a flock of refractory sheep. I was already\nthoroughly weary of this work, for I had no talent or training to\nperform it properly. I had to paint myself black every morning like a\nnegro, and I sat with a brush before the looking-glass, smearing my face\nthree times over to produce an evenly dark complexion. My eyes were\nconcealed with a pair of large round Tibetan spectacles with my own\npolished glasses fixed inside. This time I was much more carefully\ndisguised than in 1901, when I tried to get through to Lhasa as a\nMongol, but was held fast in the strong claws of Kamba Bombo. My turban\nwas too white, so it was dipped in a dye of boiled butter and ashes, and\nbecame at once quite shabby. My soft leather boots were in holes, so\nthat the toes came out. It was well that I ran no risk of meeting\nacquaintances from Stockholm or London.\n\nThis journey was painful and trying to the nerves. Day and night I lived\nin the greatest anxiety lest I should be discovered and ignominiously\nunmasked. The farther we advanced southwards the more I was troubled by\nthis apprehension. Should we succeed, or should we be forced back when\nwe had traversed only half the distance across the blank space? Should I\nnever cross the Trans-Himalaya again? At every stage our watchfulness\nand cautiousness increased, and also the tension of our nerves. I must\nalways be on my guard and never hold a cigarette in my hand when we were\non the march. My map sheets and compass I thrust into my bosom to be\nnear at hand. When I collected a rock specimen, took a bearing with the\ncompass, or made a drawing near a tent, Lobsang had to screen me, and he\nbecame astonishingly adept at this game. The sun I could observe only\nwhen we were quite sure that no Tibetan could see the instrument.\nSometimes I sat and drew a panorama through a peephole in the tent\ncloth. The sheep were my refuge, and with them I set out first, and had\nnot to take part in the packing and loading, and I was spared from\nwatching the animals at night, as in 1901. In both cases I was\npractically a prisoner in my tent, where the evening hours seemed very\nlong. Nothing is so trying and irritating to the mind as this anxiety in\nwhich I lived, travelling in disguise, and expecting any moment to come\nto a crisis in my fate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXIV\n\nTSONGPUN TASHI\n\n\nMarch 27. Nearly -4\u00b0 in the night--still winter. But at one o'clock the\ntemperature rose to 46\u00bd\u00b0--spring was coming.\n\nAn old man sold us four sheep in the morning, and then prowled about our\ntents. He could not at all understand why we had come hither, especially\nat this season, but Abdul Kerim told him that when we left Tok-jalung\nthe most severe cold was over. This was a new story we had invented,\nbecause it was more probable than the former, and would pass better in\nthe southern parts of the country.\n\nHere, also, stood the usual tent with a view up to the pass, and I was\nobliged to go on foot up to the summit of the Ladung-la with its 17,395\nfeet. But here the view was encouraging; we had level or declining\nground before us for four days. The descent from the pass to the south\nwas precipitous, and we stumbled and slid through the rubbish, which\nrattled down behind us, and I had the satisfaction of ruining my boots\nand clothes more than ever. The valley turned off to the right,\nsouth-west, and in the Janglung district, where we encamped, a young\nshepherd informed us that we should come to Tsongpun Tashi's tent next\nday.\n\nNumerous springs bubbled up from the valley bottom and formed a little\nclear brook full of fish between grassy swards. Here some of us halted\nand used Kutus's girdle as a net. At the first haul we caught 18 fish,\nand we did not cease till we had 160--not large ones, but quite\nsufficient to feed all thirteen of us. It was amusing to see Little\nPuppy as he stood watching attentively and regarding the sprawling\nfishes, barking and shaking his head. He had never in his life seen\nrunning water before, and must have supposed that he could walk upon it\nas safely as on clear ice. Quite unsuspiciously he jumped down from the\ngrass, where the brook was 2 feet deep, and entirely disappeared under\nthe water. When he had, with much difficulty, struggled up again, he was\nmuch amazed and disconcerted, and prowled about growling with\ndispleasure at the cold bath. After that he kept far away from the\ndeceitful brook.\n\nMarch 28. Now we saw that we could trust Takkar, so we let him loose. He\ndid not run away, but was in the best of tempers, and flew like an arrow\nover the slopes, enjoying his freedom, and played with Little Puppy, who\nbecame furious when the huge brute came racing down on him with playful\nleaps, so that he rolled over and over on the ground.\n\nAbdul Kerim was to go on the new horse with the Ladaki saddle,\naccompanied by two men, to look out for Tsongpun Tashi. He had plenty of\nmoney to buy anything he might find, and in reply to searching questions\nhe was to say that we had orders from Gulam Razul to meet one of his\ncaravans in Raga-tasam, which in about ten days was to leave Lhasa, and\nthen accompany it to Ladak.\n\nI had to ride my grey horse barebacked, but I had not got far before we\npassed two tents, where four Tibetans came out to look at us. Two of our\nmen went and talked to them while the rest of us followed the brook\nthrough the valley. A little further and we had to be careful again, for\nthere were three more tents and two large flocks, the owner of which\npossessed 3000 sheep. Sheepfolds, old camping-places, and _manis_ were\nall around, for we were on a great highway, and therefore I kept close\nto the sheep, and whistled and shouted at them. At the mouth of a side\nvalley, on the left, stood a large white tent with blue borders, which\nwas said to belong to the chief of the district, the Gova Chykying. A\nman came out of the tent, hurried after us, and asked whence we came and\nwhither we were going. Two women came out of a tent inhabited by\nbeggars, and put the same questions. A mile or so farther we were out of\nsight of tents, and I jumped on my grey horse, but I could not ride far,\nfor more tents appeared farther down the valley. We encamped by the side\nof the brook in the Kung-sherya country, where the valley is very broad\nand open, and tents are seen in many directions. From one of these,\nwhich stood below ours, a man came and made inquiries. He said that one\nof the tents, which looked large and important, belonged to Takyung\nLama, abbot of Mendong-gompa, a monastery three days' journey to the\nsouth-east. Now we were in a warm corner, with the district chief, a\nhigh lama, and Tsongpun Tashi as near neighbours, and the Governor of\nthe great province of Bongba not far off. It would be a marvel if we\nsucceeded in making our way out of this wasps' nest. One thing was\ncertain, that we must make off next morning, before news of our arrival\nhad spread about.\n\nAfter we had waited several hours Abdul Kerim came. We could see at a\nlong distance that he had bought a horse, which was laden with sacks and\nbags containing rice, barley, butter, and _tsamba_. Tsongpun Tashi\nproved to be an old man of a poverty-stricken and mean appearance, but\nhis large tent was full of goods, sacks, and packets of tea, and his\nmovable shop was very well stocked. Naturally he was much surprised at\nthe visit, but he swallowed the story that Abdul Kerim dished up for\nhim. He had even given him the names of all the places where we ought to\ncamp on the way to Saka-dzong and Raga-tasam, and advised us to be well\non our guard in a district he called Bupgo-lathit, where there were\nalways robbers. He related that a band of robbers had, a few weeks\nbefore, attacked and plundered Targyaling-gompa, the monastery where we\nhad met with such a hostile reception in June of the preceding year.\nForty men with horses and guns had been levied to chase the band, but\nTsongpun Tashi said that these forty men were little better than robbers\nthemselves, and that we ought to inquire about them, so as to avoid them\nas they returned. Abdul Kerim promised Tsongpun Tashi to barter our sick\nblack horse for some provisions, but Abdul Kerim did not know that\nAbdullah had already exchanged the horse at the beggars' tent for two\nsheep and a goat. There the faithful horse would see happy days again\nwhen the grass grew up.\n\nAfter Abdul Kerim had drunk tea he went on to visit the Gova Chykying,\nwho came out of his tent and said that Takyung Lama had that very day\nimposed on him eight days' _yangguk_--that means that he must not\ntransact any kind of business, but must devote himself entirely, on\naccount of his sins, to contemplation in his own house. That was fine\nfor us; the Gova was reduced to a negligible quantity.\n\nMarch 29. Temperature 13\u00b0 in the night, and 55\u00b0 at seven o'clock--this\nis spring. Welcome mild salubrious breezes, come to thaw our frozen\njoints!\n\nEarly in the morning came a couple of our men tramping along with\nanother dog, light yellow, dirty, and loathsome. He was inhospitably\nreceived by Takkar, who immediately gave him a sharp pinch in the neck,\nand seemed to think that the new member of the caravan was quite\nsuperfluous as long as he kept watch himself.\n\nFar in the north a solitary Tibetan appeared, and approached our camp. I\nwas sitting at breakfast, and was hoping that we should soon leave this\ndangerous place. I went out and looked through the field-glass; the\nstranger was making straight for our tents. Soon Abdul Kerim came and\nsaid that it was Tsongpun Tashi himself. He stopped at some distance and\ncalled to us to tie up our dogs, for Takkar had rushed at the old man,\nwho defended himself with stones. The men were purposely slow in\nfastening up the dogs, in order to give me time to put the interior of\nmy tent in order. On such occasions my note-books and instruments were\ncrammed into a rice sack, which always stood ready. There was no other\nfurniture, for we had burned all European articles and boxes long\nbefore.\n\nMeanwhile, Abdul Kerim conducted Tsongpun Tashi into his tent, which\nstood close against mine, and I listened to their conversation at a\ndistance of little more than a yard. By degrees the talk became, to say\nthe least of it, lively. Tsongpun Tashi raised his voice more and more,\nand Abdul Kerim was evidently in a serious dilemma.\n\n\"Did you not promise to give me the black horse in exchange for butter?\nBring the horse immediately. If you do not keep your word, I will detain\nthe whole pack of you here. We do not let men that break their word\nescape in Bongba. I thought yesterday that you were honest men, but now\nI see what you are up to. Now I shall begin by searching your tents.\"\n\nWith that he got up as angry as a wasp and went out. But Gulam, who was\nalways alert and never lost a word of a conversation, had let Takkar\nloose again. As soon as Tsongpun Tashi showed himself at the tent door\nthe dog flew at him again. He backed, and Abdul seized the opportunity\nto call out in a gruff voice: \"Kutus, take Hajji Baba with you and go\nand look for the lost horse.\"\n\n\"What horse is that?\" asked Tsongpun.\n\n\"It is one of our horses which has run away up the mountain, and we\ncannot set out till we have found him.\"\n\n\"What colour is he?\" asked Tsongpun with uncomfortable inquisitiveness.\n\n\"Grey,\" replied Abdul Kerim, who had difficulty in concealing his\nuneasiness, for it was he who had pledged the black steed without\nknowing whether it was still in our possession.\n\n\"Very well, I shall stay here till you have found the grey horse.\"\n\nDuring the minute this conversation lasted Tsongpun Tashi had walked\ntowards the opening of my tent, when Kutus came running up from the\nother side, seized me by the collar, and whispered \"Come.\" We hurried\noff to a crag on the north-east, and so just escaped the clutches of\nTsongpun.\n\n\"What man is that?\" the old man asked, pointing at me, as I was making\noff with clumsy waddling steps.\n\n\"Hajji Baba, one of my servants,\" answered Abdul Kerim, without moving a\nmuscle.\n\nWe did not look round as we went off to the point, and were glad when at\nlength we were hidden by a projecting rock. Then we scrambled up a\nfissure whence we could see all around. Here we lay a weary time with\nour hearts in our mouths, while Tsongpun Tashi waited for the runaway\nhorse, which had not run away at all, for all our animals stood ready\nladen before our tents. But he must have lost patience. After Gaffar had\ngone to the tent to try and get back the black horse, but met with a\nrefusal, for the horse had been fed with barley and was getting on\nsplendidly, Tsongpun Tashi seemed to make in that direction himself,\naccompanied by Gaffar. But he changed his mind, for he turned back\nhalf-way, and soon we saw him going to the fine tent of the soul-doctor,\nwhich stood about 300 yards farther down the valley. He was attended by\none of our men, who helped him to carry the sacks in which the goods\nacquired the previous day were packed.\n\nWe remained quiet in our hiding-place of much-weathered green schist,\nfull of quartz veins, from which we could peep out without being seen.\nWe were supposed to be looking for the lost horse. But now the caravan\nwas ready, and began to move down the valley past the abbot's tent.\nTsongpun Tashi's errand had been to take farewell of the prelate, who\nwas setting out this day for Mendong-gompa, absolutely unknown in all\nthe maps in the world, and his yaks stood tethered and surrounded by a\ntroop of servants. Abdul Kerim was shrewd enough to send no messenger\nafter us, but leave us to take care of ourselves. And so we did when we\nhad had enough of the green schist--we could not lie still till\ndoomsday. But we had to pass the abbot's tent, and there sat Tsongpun\nTashi, unless he were among the men outside. We sneaked on. Kutus walked\nnext the tent to screen me. My disguise was perfect, and I had a black\nface. We passed with some trepidation quite close to the tent; two\nsavage dogs rushed at us and we threw stones at them, thereby deranging\nour order of march and making a change of front. Confounded dogs! We had\npassed the tent, and, so far, had done well. But if Tsongpun Tashi\nnoticed us--and he could scarcely fail to do so, for the dogs barked so\nfuriously--he would certainly wonder in which direction the grey horse\nhad made off. If he had no suspicion of us he must be, beyond\ncomparison, the greatest ass that I had ever fallen in with.\n\nWe made haste and soon overtook the others, and were lost among them.\nThe valley sloped down--a fortunate thing for me, as I had to travel on\nfoot where so many pitfalls surrounded me on all sides. Abdul Kerim rode\ngrandly on my horse at the head of the party. On the left were a\nwhite-and-blue and a black tent with twenty yaks. Two men hurried up to\nus, and Abdul Kerim met and spoke to them. We marched along the ice belt\nof the brook, and passed five more tents, and, at all, the men came out\nto look at us. I walked with the sheep farther from the tents than the\ncaravan. We passed twenty tents that day; it was a dangerous stretch of\ncountry, and it was strange that we came through safely.\n\nA woman, carrying a load of wool on her back, overtook us. She was so\nbold as to join herself to the caravan and ask to be allowed to put her\nwool on one of the yaks. Never have I so heartily wished a woman at the\ndevil. Abdul Rasak took the woman in hand and offered to carry half her\nload to her tent, and so they jogged along the road far ahead, and freed\nus from her suspicious company.\n\nWe took it for granted that she was a spy. When we encamped below a\nsheepfold, there she was again, established herself inside the fold,\nlighted a fire and fetched water. She must drink tea before she went on\nhomewards, she said; but fortunately she toddled off before dusk.\n\nI sat in the setting sun and noted down the varied incidents of the day.\nI sat in the opening of my tent enjoying the soothing rustle of the\nspring, when what should I see but Takkar himself, who came up to me\nanxiously and humbly, made the most expressive gestures, put his head on\none side and began to paw my arm. I looked at him and he looked at me,\nand at last we understood each other.\n\n\"I could not know,\" he said, \"that you were nice men when you tied me by\nthe neck to this horrible tent pole. I thought that you would tease and\ntorment and starve me, and throw stones and dirt at me, as the Tibetans\nhave done ever since I can remember. But I see that you are well\ndisposed towards me, and give me two good meals of mutton every day. I\nknow that you, in spite of your rags, are a bombo-chimbo, and that Abdul\nKerim is only a servant. Be at ease, I will not let any one come near\nyour tent; I will watch over you at night, I will never betray you, I\nwill follow you everywhere; you may trust in me. But now come and play\nwith me a little; take away this useless tent pole, and let us be no\nlonger strangers.\"\n\nHis shrewd brown eyes showed plainly that this was what he meant to say,\nword for word. I took his shaggy head in my arms and squeezed it. Then\nhe jumped up on me and began to dance and yelp with joy, and enticed me\nout of my tent. Then I took hold of him again, untied the knots, and\nreleased him from his pole, to the great astonishment of my men, who\nwere sitting in the open around a fire. No one had ever ventured so near\nto Takkar, except Little Puppy, and without the slightest jealousy the\nlittle cub joined in the game, which henceforth whiled away daily a\ncouple of hours of my weary captivity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXV\n\nBUPTSANG-TSANGPO, ONE OF THE LARGEST RIVERS OF THE HEART OF TIBET\n\n\nIt was with a feeling of relief that we broke up our camp on March 30,\nafter we had succeeded in extricating ourselves from the net which had\nso nearly held us fast in its meshes. Through here runs the so-called\nSerpun-lam, or gold-inspectors' road, which extends through the interior\nof Tibet from Lhasa to Tok-jalung, and is one of the greatest high-roads\nof the country. We did not yet feel quite safe, but we had heard some\nassuring news: Karma Puntso had taken a journey of several days\nnorthwards to a place in Chang-tang where he owned large flocks of\nsheep. Most of the nomads in Bongba had sent their sheep to the north,\nwhere the grazing was much better. This was of great advantage to us,\nfor now only women, old men, and children remained in the tents of\nBongba, while most of the men were following the sheep. It was part of\nthe trial of my patience that I could not have the slightest dealings\nwith Tibetans, for I should have betrayed myself at once by my defective\nutterance of the language. I never talked with them, but pulled the\nstrings of my marionettes from my place of concealment.\n\nThe wild-geese had now commenced their migrations, and we constantly\nheard their cries above our tents. On March 30 we found an excellent\npath along the river in which we had caught fish just below Ladung-la.\nThe country was very open and flat, and we passed at some distance from\ntwelve tents. Near the last we pitched camp 368, and bought a black\nhorse. We had now four horses, of which one was a veteran from Ladak;\nnow I rode the first horse we had bought--a brown one. The last three\nmules and the two yaks from the Tsong-tso were in good condition. When\nwe encamped near natives, Takkar was tied up outside the entrance to my\ntent to keep off inquisitive visitors. He had been bred and reared among\nTibetans, and had never seen any other people in his life till lately,\nand yet now he became mad with rage if he saw a Tibetan only at a\ndistance. I had often to pay various sums in rupees to those of his\ntwo-legged fellow-countrymen whose unprotected legs he had bitten, and\nhe was never contented without a slight effusion of blood.\n\nWe followed the river south-south-westwards for another day's journey to\ncamp 369, where some poor nomads were encamping by a sheet of snow.\nSha-kangsham's summit came into sight again, this time to the north, 30\u00b0\nE., rising like a gigantic beacon above the mountains. Five days'\njourney to the west-north-west was pointed out the salt lake,\nTabie-tsaka, the position of which I had sought in vain to ascertain\nfrom the _tasam_. In the afternoon when I sat outside to draw a\npanorama, nomads were strolling and peering about, so that I had to post\nwatchmen. In the evening all around was pitch-dark: there was no moon,\nonly dense clouds. Our animals had disappeared, and as there was good\nreason to fear wolves and horse-stealers, eight men were sent out to\nlook for them. They had revolvers, and fired a few shots to let any\npossible disturbers of the peace know that we were armed. The animals\nwould not freeze, for the temperature fell in the night only to 18\u00b0, and\nin the morning they had come back again all right. The only one missing\nwas the greyish-yellow dog; thinking, perhaps, that he had fallen into\nbad company, he had gnawed through his rope and run home in the night to\nhis miserable tent.\n\nNow the path runs south-south-west up to the little easy pass Satsot-la\n(15,932 feet), in red porphyry and with a way-mark. In the wide valley\nin front of us lies the lake Chunit-tso, and on its farther side rises a\nred mountain of regular form. We pass several _manis_, and on the right\nhand a miniature lake called Chabuk-tso, where Tubges shot two\nwild-geese. The honorary huntsman often supplied me with game; he was\ncalled by his comrades simply Shyok, after his home, just as we call one\nof our acquaintances J\u00f6nk\u00f6ping or Falsterbo.\n\nWe crossed a great road running to the north-west; hundreds of yaks had\nrecently passed--no doubt a salt caravan on the way to Tabie-tsaka. Then\nwe passed a circular wall, where a solitary man came out and looked at\nus, but retired behind the wall when he found that we would have nothing\nto do with him. A fine _mani_ decorated with horns stood on a terrace,\nand just below it we halted for the night by a sheet of ice produced by\nsprings. We had scarcely set up the tents when a caravan of several\nhundred sheep, laden with salt, came along from the north-west. Only two\narmed guides were with it; they had been to Tabie-tsaka, and were now\ngoing home to Yangchut-tanga, twenty days' journey to the south-east. In\nthe same direction 400 yaks were grazing, which were said to belong to\nthe Gova of the district. In the evening we had a visit from a traveller\nwho was going home to his tent farther south. He promised to sell us\nthree sheep in the morning. Would he keep his word?\n\nYes, certainly; he met us with the sheep next day as we were passing\nalong the western shore of the Chunit-tso (15,574 feet) southwards. At\nthe northern extremity of the lake a warm sulphurous spring burst forth.\nWe were told that if a man drinks of it he becomes ill, but if he mixes\nthe water with some from an adjacent cold spring he is cured of any\ncomplaint he may suffer from. Sick sheep and goats are dipped in the\nwarm water and become well again at once. The spring is holy, and a\n_mani_ heap is set up near it. The lake is slightly salt and frozen. Two\nsmall brooks enter it from the mountains on the west; a third brook,\nLungnak-bupchu, formed a large sheet of ice, and in the mouth of its\nvalley stood a couple of tents, and their dogs came down on us like a\nwhirlwind, but received such a thrashing from Takkar that they showed\nthemselves no more that evening.\n\nApril 3. We left the southern end of the lake behind us and ascended a\nsmall valley leading up to the low pass Nima-lung-la, near which we\nencamped in a barren spot between granite crags. An eagle-owl sat in a\ncleft and at twilight uttered its shrill piercing cry. Lobsang said that\nthis bird was thought much of in Tibet, because it warns honest men of\nthieves and robbers. When the eagle-owls sit and scream, robbers are\ncertain to be in the neighbourhood.\n\nOn April 4 we had only half an hour's march to the threshold of the\nNima-lung-la (16,017 feet), from which there is a magnificent view over\nthe Trans-Himalaya--a series of dark rocks with black, snow-crowned\npeaks. Between us and the range extended a wide, perfectly level plain,\nfull of pools, marshes, and rivulets. At one of them sat two Tibetans\ncutting up a yak which had died. They confirmed the information we had\nreceived before, that we were now in the district Bongba-kemar, a day's\njourney from Bongba-kebyang, and that we must follow the river\nBuptsang-tsangpo for several days upwards to reach Saka-dzong by the\npass Samye-la. I had still a very dim and indistinct notion of the\ngeographical configuration of this region. Was the range in front of us\nto the south a continuation of Nien-chen-tang-la, which I had crossed at\nthe Sela-la, Chang-la-Pod-la, and Angden-la; or was it another range\ndisconnected from the former? During the following days we should obtain\nan answer to this question. Should we be successful, and be able to\ncomplete this exceedingly important meridional traverse through an\nunknown part of Tibet? It would be more than provoking to be stopped\njust at the northern foot of the Trans-Himalaya.\n\nCamp 374 was pitched below the opening of a valley where there were two\ntents. The nomads warned us against the water in the pools of the plain:\nour horses would lose their hair if they drank of it. \"Snoring\" Kunchuk\ncomplained of toothache, but was cured at once by two resolute comrades.\nThe operation was performed with pincers properly intended for\nhorse-shoe nails. To get at the tooth better, they put a stone in the\npatient's mouth. \"Do not kill me,\" he shrieked when the tooth jumped\nout.\n\nOn April 5 we travelled altogether 10\u00bc miles to the south. The country\nwas perfectly barren, and the ground was entirely covered with red\nporphyry detritus. A small spring surrounded by grass seemed to us quite\nan oasis, and there we encamped near a sheepfold and a _mani_ heap.\n\nAnother day's march and we came to the Buptsang-tsangpo, \"the deeply\nexcavated river,\" and followed it to the south. The river is divided\ninto several arms, and already contained a deal of water, though for the\nmost part it was frozen. This valley is about 3 miles broad and has a\nvery gentle slope. The locality where we encamped after passing fourteen\ntents was called Monlam-gongma (15,820 feet). Hence the river was said\nto flow five days' journey to the north-north-west and pour into a large\nlake, called the Tarok-tso. We might have attempted to make an excursion\nin that direction, but it was more important to complete the meridional\nline while the country was still open to us. Two huge snowy peaks which\nthe nomads here, as on the _tasam_, called Lunpo-gangri, or \"the great\nice mountain,\" were said to lie to the right of the route we ought to\nfollow to Saka-dzong. This information was exceedingly puzzling, and I\nsaw that Lunpo-gangri with the summits triangulated by Ryder and Wood\ncould not be a prolongation of the mighty range I had crossed by three\npasses, and which, farther east, bears the name Nien-chen-tang-la.\n\nAfter a vain attempt to get rid of our enfeebled yaks, we continued up\nthe great river along its right or eastern bank terrace. A south-westerly\nstorm which commenced some days before still continued. In the Amchung\ncountry (camp 376) we had a neighbour called Kamba Dramdul, who could not\ngive much information, but what he said was of deep interest. We had\nstill some days' journey to the Samye-la--all up the Buptsang-tsangpo\nvalley, with _gangris_ or snowy heights on both the right and left sides.\nOn the pass we should be quite close to the peaks of Lunpo-gangri. I\nalready suspected that the great range we had on our left--that is,\ntowards the east--was a continuation of Nien-chen-tang-la, while\nLunpo-gangri was a quite independent chain without the least connection\nwith the former.\n\nThe eastern range increased in magnitude on the following day's march,\nand among its dark ramifications rose some rather flat summits capped\nwith eternal snow. We kept for the most part to the top of the terrace\non the right bank, which was 50 to 65 feet above the river, and fell\nsteeply to the even valley bottom where the stream meandered. Here the\nvalley was about 2 miles broad. The ice mantle of the river became wider\nand thicker the higher we mounted, but the rise was very gradual. From\ncamp 377 the culminating peak of Lunpo-gangri lay south, 23\u00b0 E. Every\nday's journey we accomplished without adventures strengthened our\nposition. The nomads must think: If these men travel right through the\nwhole of Bongba without being stopped, they cannot be impostors.\n\nOn April 10 we travelled 8\u00bd miles up the Buptsang-tsangpo, and we were\nastonished to find so voluminous a river up on the isolated plateau\ncountry. On its banks ducks and geese cackled in large numbers. Tubges\nshot several of them; it was a sin to disturb their dreams of spring and\nlove. No human being was seen this day. I had a feeling of repose when\nwe could see no black tents, and for the sake of peace I would readily\nabstain from sour milk. The view to the south-south-east was\nmagnificent; the peaks of Lunpo-gangri stood out against the pure blue\nsky in dazzling white, with shades of light blue indicating ice. On the\neast also of our route appeared a whole world of mountains. Most\nunexpectedly the summits of Lunpo-gangri have a much grander and more\nimposing appearance from the northern side, towards the plateau country,\nthan from the south side, the valley of the Brahmaputra, most probably\nbecause on the southern side they are too near. Up in the north we saw\nthem at all distances, and for several days we had them right in front\nof us.\n\n[Illustration: 319, 320, 321. THE SUMMITS OF LUNPO-GANGRI FROM CAMPS\n379, 381, AND 383.\n\n From Water-Colours by the Author.]\n\nIn the night of April 11 the temperature sank to -1.7\u00b0, and on the\npreceding nights to 3.7\u00b0, 13.5\u00b0, and 17.2\u00b0. The cold increased as we\nmounted higher. We came to an expansion in the valley where three\nglacier streams unite to form the Buptsang-tsangpo, just as in the case\nof the Brahmaputra, and also on the northern flank of one of the\nworld's mightiest mountain systems. Our camp 379 (16,112 feet) was\npitched close to the river in Bupyung-ring. The eastern headwater comes\npartly from the Samye-la, partly from mountains adjoining on the\nsouth-west. The middle one descends from a massive called Yallak-mallak,\nand the western from Chomo-gangri; south-east of this mountain is\nLunpo-gangri, which is drained to the sea, both from its northern and\nits southern flank (Illusts. 319, 320, 321).\n\nBupyung-ring is one of the finest and most beautiful regions I have seen\nin Tibet. The flat wide valley, surrounded by mountains with ice and\nsnow, is clothed with abundant grass and traversed by numerous\nwater-courses. Everywhere are seen traces of camping-places. At the time\nwe passed through only a few tent villages remained, but the valley is\nfull of life in summer when the nomads come down from the north. When\nthe melting of the snows properly sets in during summer, and afterwards\nin the rainy season, the Buptsang-tsangpo swells up so tremendously that\nthe river cannot be crossed for three months, and communication between\nthe banks is interrupted. From its source to its outlet in the Tarok-tso\nthe river is probably nearly 100 miles long, and is possibly the largest\nriver in Tibet which does not flow to the sea. The only rivers that can\nvie with it are the Sachu-tsangpo, which flows into the Zilling-tso, and\nthe Soma-tsangpo, which falls into the Teri-nam-tso. The Sachu-tsangpo\nwas far larger than the Buptsang when I crossed it in the rainy season\nin 1901. But the Buptsang is also a large river in spring, and in the\nrainy season must swell as much as the Sachu. The Buptsang-tsangpo has\nhitherto been unknown to Europeans, but we find the Tarok-tso on\nD'Anville's map, and a river entering the lake from the south, which no\ndoubt is identical with the Buptsang-tsangpo. The Jesuits who resided in\nPekin two hundred years ago, and were ordered by the Emperor Kang Hi to\ncompile a map of the whole Chinese Empire, procured information even\nabout this remote region from Chinese and Tibetan sources.\n\nDuring the past days our two yaks had become so wearied and footsore\nthat we had to get rid of them at any price. We therefore stayed a day\nin Bupyung and bartered them for nine sheep, which took over the loads\nof the yaks. Now we had again thirty-one sheep and some goats.\n\nOn the 13th we came to the foot of the mountain where commenced the\nactual steep ascent to the pass itself. Here were four tents inhabited\nexclusively by women and children. The men had gone a couple of days\nbefore to Gova Tsepten's tent. It is incumbent on this chief to collect\na certain number of men and yaks, which for about three months are\nposted on the _tasam_ ready to transport goods on behalf of the\nDevashung without compensation. This is a kind of _corv\u00e9e_ which is\nexacted not only all along the road between Lhasa and Ladak, but on all\nother great high-roads in Tibet. Naturally this injudicious system is a\ngreat annoyance to the nomads, who have to leave their flocks in the\nmeantime to the care of women and children. If any one wishes to escape\nthis compulsory service he must supply a substitute, pay him, and\nfurnish him with yaks and provisions. The year before, when we travelled\nwith hired horses from Shigatse, the poor nomads served us, but we\nalways paid them honourably and gave them handsome gratuities as well.\n\nAfter a night temperature of -0.8\u00b0 we rode up to the pass on the 14th,\nover and between hills and across the brook which brings its tribute\nfrom the Samye-la to the Buptsang-tsangpo. Solid rock could not be\nfound, but all the detritus and boulders were of grey granite; seldom\nwas a piece of porphyry noticed. The usual observations were made on the\npass, and the boiling-point thermometer was read off. The view of\nLunpo-gangri was grander than ever, now that its peaks were quite near.\nThe distinctly marked valley of the Buptsang-tsangpo disappeared in the\ndistance to the north-north-west, while to the south-east nothing could\nbe seen but a flat saddle, whence I concluded that we were not yet on\nthe actual water-parting pass. We had not followed the track of the\ncaravan far, before we saw a brook coming from the south-east, which\nalso belonged to the Buptsang-tsangpo. On its bank, where we also\nhalted, was encamped a caravan of 8 men and 350 yaks, which was carrying\nsalt to Saka-dzong, six days' march farther. These men could not\nunderstand why we, merchants from Ladak, chose such a way, and asked how\nwe found it out. They were treated to the usual story about the\nwool-trade in summer, and they regretted that they could not serve us\nwith their yaks, as they were called out for Government transport on the\ngreat high-roads. Now we wondered whether they would let the Governor of\nSaka-dzong know that they had met with a party of Ladakis on byways, and\nif this news would injure us. Perhaps, after all, it would be best to\navoid Saka-dzong altogether.\n\nOn April 15 it was our chief desire to get in advance of the yak\ncaravan. Before they had begun to load up their animals I started off\nwith the sheep, and came in good time to the summit of the Samye-la with\nits streamer-decked poles. Though we were all the way in sight of the\nyak-men's camp, I must, at any cost, determine the height of the pass,\nand the distance was so great that they could not see what we were\ndoing. After boiling the thermometer, whence we obtained a height of\n18,133 feet, I also drew a panorama. To the south and south-east was a\nworld of mountains belonging to the Lunpo-gangri range, which lay to the\nsouth, and to Nien-chen-tang-la on the north. We were therefore standing\non the actual watershed between two gigantic ranges, which are both\nmembers of the Trans-Himalayan family. And this pass, the Samye-la,\noccupies the highest and most important rank from a hydrographic and\norographical point of view that any pass in Asia can lay claim to, for\nit is a divide between the isolated drainage area of the plateau on the\nnorth and the boundless ocean, on the south. It ranks, then, with the\nSela-la, Chang-la-Pod-la, and Angden-la, and is much more important than\nthe Tseti-lachen-la, which is only a watershed between the Sutlej and\nthe Indus, and than the Jukti-la, which parts the waters between the two\narms of the Indus. At the Samye-la I attained my chief desire, to cross\nthe Trans-Himalaya between the Tseti-lachen-la and the Ang-den-la, and\ngain another point on the immense boundary line on the north of the\nbasins of the great Indian rivers, and I succeeded in proving the\nunbroken continuance of the Trans-Himalaya for 118 miles west of\nAngden-la. A most extraordinarily interesting discovery also was that\nthe Angden-la and the Samye-la, though of exactly the same value as\nwatersheds, do not lie on the same chain. The Angden-la is situated on\nthe western prolongation of the chain which stands on the southern shore\nof Tengri-nor and is known by the name of Nien-chen-tang-la, but the\nSamye-la lies in a longitudinal valley between this chain and\nLunpo-gangri. Accordingly, I could strike out once and for all the\ncontinuous mountain range which Hodgson and Saunders constructed at\ntheir writing-table, and represented as running north of the upper\nBrahmaputra. Here also I considered what name I should give to the\ncolossal mountain system which runs in the north parallel to the\nHimalayas. The name Lunpo-gangri had at least as much claim as\nNien-chen-tang-la, but both were unsuitable, as they only denoted\ncertain ranges in a whole system, and therefore had only local\nsignificance. Then it came to me like a flash--Trans-Himalaya is the\nname which I will attach to this gigantic mountain system.\n\nWhile I sat and pondered over the great idea which had come to me this\nday without any merit of my own, I was recalled to the business of the\nmoment by Lobsang, who informed me that the yaks were moving in a black\nline up to the pass. Then we got up and went on foot down the slopes\nbestrewn with troublesome rubbish and granite boulders. Soon trickling\nrivulets collected into a small brook. I regarded with pleasure this\nlittle stream leaping among the stones, and listened to its purling\nsong. It was the old melody, and we had recently heard it from the\nbrooks of the Buptsang-tsangpo. And yet I seemed to hear an undertone of\nanother kind, a sound in the water which suggested a new aim. The\nBuptsang-tsangpo is doomed to final annihilation in the Tarok-tso and\nTabie-tsaka, where the water is evaporated and dispersed to the four\nwinds of heaven. But the brook we now followed debouches into the\nChaktak-tsangpo and Brahmaputra, and its destiny is the Indian Ocean,\nover which runs the way to my home.\n\nWe had just set up our tents before the yaks came tramping up in close\norder, followed by their whistling and singing drivers. They went round,\nnot to come too near us. Were they afraid of us or were they suspicious?\nWere they a cloud, no larger than a man's hand, from which, in due time,\na destructive tornado was to burst over our little band, which now for\nthe second time crossed the forbidden land without leave?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXVI\n\nIN THE ROBBERS' PARADISE\n\n\nIn former times the glacier tongues of Lunpo-gangri ran down into the\nvalley, and traces of them were very conspicuous as we descended to\nlower country on April 16. The valley is quite full of old moraines,\nconsisting exclusively of granite, and some of them are superficially\nconcealed under fine matter and moss. We passed the large yak caravan\nagain, which was encamping after a very short march. Evidently the men\nintended to stay over the next day, for the loads were taken off the\nyaks and piled up. When they mean to set out again the next day they\nleave the loads on the yaks, for they think it too much trouble to load\nand unload 350 yaks for a single night. They might stay for us as long\nas they liked; we should get in advance and pass by Saka-dzong before we\nwere denounced. But no, it would be wiser to avoid Saka-dzong\naltogether; not to escape the sight of Muhamed Isa's grave, but not to\nneedlessly expose ourselves to suspicion. It was perfectly evident that\nthe authorities would wonder why a small party of Ladakis went along\nbyways instead of following the great _tasam_, and they would hold an\ninquiry over us.\n\n[Illustration: 322. WRESTLING. 323. TWO GUIDES. 324. BOY WITH HAT. 325.\nSHEPHERD BOY.\n\n(INHABITANTS OF THE PROVINCE OF BONGBA.)\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nAfter the moraines came to an end we traversed a more open expansion of\nthe valley, with luxuriant grass and millions of detestable mouse-holes.\nWe were right glad when Takkar pinched the necks of one or two of these\nobnoxious rodents. Tubges supplied me with partridges, and one of our\ngoats yielded me a drop of milk. From camp 383 Lunpo-gangri's summits\nare seen foreshortened, and one of them is as small as an umbrella.\nSeveral peaks are seen to the east-south-east, the continuation of the\nrange, and it is not difficult to infer that Chomo-uchong, the isolated\nmountain beside the _tasam_, lies in the eastern prolongation of\nLunpo-gangri. I took bearings of the higher summits in the neighbourhood\nfrom every camp, and shall hereafter make known the results.\n\nThe other men make the \"Snorer's\" life miserable. At eight o'clock he\ncrawls into his lair beside the sheep, and immediately begins his\nwood-sawing. Some one yells at him, and he wakes up and makes some witty\nremark, which makes the men laugh, and he never loses his temper. In two\nminutes he is asleep again and sawing as hard as ever, and is roused by\nanother shout. Only when the others have fallen asleep is he left in\npeace, and can saw as hard as he likes.\n\nLittle Puppy behaves splendidly, is lively, playful, and affectionate.\nAt night he sleeps on the rugs at my feet and helps Takkar to keep\nwatch. They are my companions, and it will be hard to part from them.\n\nApril 17. 0.7\u00b0. How long this winter has been! Now Lobsang has come to\nthe conclusion that the yak drivers will not denounce us, for fear lest\nthey should be called to account for not spying upon us better. We\ncontinue our way down the valley. How delightful only to go for some\ndays to lower country. In some places we see summer camping-grounds; now\nthe country is desolate and deserted.\n\nThe river carries down about 70 cubic feet of clear water per second; it\nhas open water only in the middle, and elsewhere is covered with margins\nof ice 2 feet thick, and icicles hang from their edges. On the banks,\nfield-mice dart about between their holes. The valley contracts and the\nriver often skirts steep cliffs of schist. Most of the tributaries, and\nthe largest of them, come from the chain which is the immediate\ncontinuation of Nien-chen-tang-la. The ice becomes thicker the more the\nvalley contracts and the longer it is in shadow. We often cross it from\none bank to the other, where it forms a bridge. Stags' horns are set up\non a _mani_ heap; where do they come from? This valley runs between the\ntwo ranges like the Buptsang-tsangpo. On this day we never see a man or\na tent.\n\nIn the evening a night owl again sat screeching above the camp, and the\nLadakis were convinced that it meant to warn us against robbers. If\nthese knew that a European with European weapons was in the caravan they\nwould not attack it; but we were only Ladakis, and the Tibetans despise\nLadakis and look upon them as cowards.\n\nOn the 18th we travelled southwards to the place (15,407 feet) where our\nvalley enters the Rukyok valley, running down from the west-north-west,\nat the bottom of which some of the Lunpo-gangri summits were again\nvisible. Still no men were to be seen, only numerous summer\ncamping-places. Two horsemen rode past our camp on the other, right,\nside of the valley. What did they want? Were they spies? We had every\nreason to suspect a spy in every human being. No; they were kiang\nhunters from Gertse, who had left their home and were seeking new\ndwellings in another province, because of some unpleasantness with the\nGertse Pun, the potentate whom we were carefully making away from. They\ninformed us that we were a day's journey from Pasa-guk, where I had\nencamped the year before, and three short marches from Saka-dzong. It\nwas hazardous to pass so near a governor's residence. Abdul Kerim bought\none of the riders' horses for 100 rupees.\n\nThis day I put on for the first time a new Ladaki costume. The other was\ntoo warm, and, being red, was conspicuous among the others. The new coat\nwas made of worn, tattered sackcloth, and was stained with ashes and\nsoot. In this I looked just like the other men. Now I painted my face\nregularly every day, and he must be a very smart fellow who could find\nout that I was not a genuine Ladaki. We had hitherto got on remarkably\nwell, and had only a day's journey to a place where I had been the year\nbefore. But the nervous tension increased more and more, and I wondered\nevery morning what surprises the new day had in store for us.\n\n[Illustration: 326. SONAM NGURBU, CHIEF OF THE CHOKCHU PROVINCE. 327.\nDORCHE TSUEN, GOVERNOR OF THE SAKA PROVINCE. 328. MAN WITH A SINGULAR\nCAP, IN SONAM NGURBU'S ESCORT. 329. TAGLA TSERING, THE CHIEF WHO REFUSED\nTO LET ME GO TO THE DANGRA-YUM-TSO.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nApril 19. As we were starting, two men passed on foot, driving before\nthem 200 sheep laden with salt. Our way was the same as theirs and we\nhad to pass them. While I drove our own sheep down the road, Abdul Kerim\nstopped and talked with the men, to draw off their attention; but we\ncould see that they were interested in our strange party, and looked\nclosely at us. I limped, thinking that the Tibetans had never seen a\nlame European, if they had seen any European at all. But the people had\nseen me in Pasa-guk and Saka-dzong the year before, and then I did not\nhalt. I had come off well from our troublesome neighbours and also past\nthe large yak caravan, which a couple of days ago had turned off another\nway but had now come into ours again. We met a large sheep caravan with\na mounted party; a woman was said to be the wife of the Gova of Rukyok.\nThe people we had just met were not so dangerous as those that followed.\n\nWe left the Rukyok river farther and farther to the right, and directly\nto the south appeared quite close the lofty summit which rises above\nPasa-guk. We had left the salt-laden sheep and the yaks behind us, and\nwe came at length to the bank of our old friend the Chaktak-tsangpo,\nwhich was considerably smaller than at the end of May and beginning of\nJune the year before. Here we left the high-road to the south, and\nmarched northwards along the Chaktak-tsangpo's right, or western bank,\nwhere we soon encamped on a meadow (15,203 feet).\n\nWhen Abdul Kerim came back he was very solemn. He had had great\ndifficulty in answering questions why we followed a byway along the\nChaktak-tsangpo instead of taking the highway to Saka-dzong as all other\ntravellers did. He had replied that we were sent to find out how much\nsheep's wool would be for sale in the country next summer. Then the men\nof the salt caravan had said: \"You cannot be afraid of robbers; they\nfrequent the mountains up here. Are you well armed?\"\n\n\"Yes, we have two guns and some revolvers.\"\n\n\"You will want them. We see that you are peaceful people, so we warn\nyou. Six days ago a robber band, eighteen men strong, each with his\nhorse and gun, attacked a tent village here in the neighbourhood. They\npillaged 3 tents, took 400 sheep and about 200 yaks, and made off by\nthe road you intend to follow. Men were collected and sent after them,\nbut two were killed and the others ran away. No one knows where the band\nis now. If you value your lives, keep a sharp watch at night. If they\nattack you, let them plunder you; you are only thirteen, and cannot\ndefend yourselves.\"\n\nThis was why Abdul Kerim looked so anxious, and it was not to be\nwondered at. Now we also ran the risk of a night attack, as if it were\nnot trying enough to travel in disguise by byways through the forbidden\nland. As long as there was daylight the animals were allowed to wander\nabout and graze, but at dusk they were driven up near to the tents. In\nthe evening the men could talk of nothing but robbers. Lobsang, who was\na Tibetan himself, took the matter quietly. He said that there were\norganized bands of as many as a hundred men with a chief at their head,\nwho ordered where raids should be made. But at this season of the year\nthey sat round their fires and tried to look innocent. In his opinion\nthe air must be warmer before they would move. If a robber was caught in\nthe neighbourhood of Gartok, his head and one arm must be sent as a\nproof to Lhasa, he added. In the principal towns punishment is very\nsevere. For theft an eye is taken out and a hand cut off. A Gova or\nother magistrate who catches a robber receives a reward or promotion,\nbut one who neglects his duty is punished. We heard that the district\nnear Geddo by the upper Raga-tsangpo is notorious as a regular nest of\nrobbers, and is visited by professional freebooters from Nakchu.\n\nIn the twilight the Mohammedans among my Ladakis sang the same melodious\nhymn I had first heard at Kizil-unkur. \"Allahu ekber\" echoed among the\nrocky cliffs; \"and it is very effective in protecting true believers\nagainst the wiles of the heathen.\" They had all at once become deeply\nreligious again in the robbers' paradise. \"Allahu ekber,\" God is great.\n\nThe night passed peacefully, and early the next morning it was reported\nthat five horsemen were approaching our tents from the north. The\nfield-glass reduced them to two men, a woman, and some yaks. They made a\ncircuit as though they were afraid of us, but Abdul Kerim hailed them\nto get information about the road. Then we marched on directly eastwards\nalong the northern bank of the Chaktak-tsangpo. The ascent was very\ngradual, the valley fairly broad and with abundant pasture. No tent was\nseen, but summer camps were numerous. A cairn marks the place where the\nChaktak-tsangpo, coming from the north, 10\u00b0 W., unites with its\ntributary the Gebuk-chu from the east. To the north-north-east rise two\nsnowy peaks of medium height with small glaciers. It was evident that\nthe Chaktak-tsangpo flows from the country to the north of them, for the\ndeeply excavated transverse valley of the river could be clearly traced.\nThe main river may carry down about 250 cubic feet in a second, and the\naffluent about 70. In this district the river is called Kamchung-chu;\nthe name Chaktak-tsangpo (Charta-tsangpo, as it is incorrectly called by\nNain Sing) is not applied to it above Pasa-guk. We encamped in the angle\nbetween the two rivers near a meadow where three horses were feeding.\nTheir owners, who were bivouacking behind a projection near at hand,\nwere from Rukyok and had lost many of their sheep in winter from\ndisease, and had been to a warm spring to dip and save the remainder. We\nwere here about due north of Saka-dzong and about two days' journey from\nit. But between us and the Governor's residence rose a ridge which is a\nlink in the chain of Lunpo-gangri. In the evening and at night our\nwatchmen fired, as usual, some revolver shots, to inform any chance\nrobbers that we were on our guard.\n\nApril 21. As the tents were being taken down, our neighbours went by\nwith 200 sheep. I turned my back to them and busied myself with loading\na mule. Then I travelled with the sheep, for there were several more\ntents farther up, and I could not ride till we came to an uninhabited\npart of the valley. Several side valleys opened on the left, and at\ntheir ends could sometimes be seen a part of the main crest. We know\nabsolutely nothing of the country to the north of it, but that it cannot\nbe the watershed between the plateau and the sea is evident, and was\nshown by the Kamchung transverse valley.\n\nAfter crossing the river twice over bridges of porous ice we encamped\nnear a sheepfold where dry dung was plentiful. The last nomads had told\nus that next day we should come to a large tent, the property of an\ninfluential old man named Kamba Tsenam, who owned 1000 yaks and 5000\nsheep. He would evidently be our next difficulty, and if we slipped past\nhim the country would be open to us as far as Raga-tasam. We are\nsatisfied when, as on this day, we have again gained nearly 9 miles\nwithout being interfered with; but how shall we fare to-morrow?--this is\nthe standing question we ask ourselves every evening. It is certainly an\nadvantage to travel along out-of-the-way paths where we escape notice,\nbut if any sharp gova or governor hears us spoken of, he cannot help\nbeing suspicious of our strange proceedings, and institute a close\ninquiry. Now the salt caravan which we passed has already arrived at\nSaka-dzong; we are, indeed, to the east of that place, but we travel so\nslowly that we can never escape pursuit. Our excitement grows daily. I\nam tired and weary of this self-imposed confinement, and long for it to\ncome to an end. What shall we do then? That I know not. We have\npenetrated so far that a crisis must come. I have managed to travel\nthrough Bongba, but my plans for the immediate future are very\nindefinite and depend on circumstances. We will get on as far as we can.\n\nApril 22 was a day when we knew that the definite crisis was coming very\nmuch nearer. Abdul Kerim, Kunchuk, and Gaffar set out first to pay a\nvisit to Kamba Tsenam and keep his attention riveted on the sale of food\nand horses. We followed after, and crossed the river twice on cracking\nbridges of ice, kept along the northern bank, and passed a side valley,\nat the mouth of which stood three tents, where our men were in the midst\nof a group of Tibetans who were showing their horses. Gulam had warned\nme in time, so I dismounted and went and looked after our last mules. As\nsoon as we were concealed by a bank terrace I could ride again. The\npleasure did not last long, for at the next side valley on the north I\nhad to dismount again before another tent, where a pack of savage dogs\nwere encountered by Takkar and Little Puppy, who, save the mark, would\nhelp to defend us, but received a nip in the neck and had to be rescued.\nHere we lost Kutus and Tubges, who remained at the tent, while our\ndiminished party continued on its way eastwards.\n\nAt a spur on the northern side of the valley a couple of elegant _mani_\nheaps were erected, and by one of them a streamer pole was set up. It\nhad snowed thickly ever since eight o'clock, but the valley was so\nnarrow that we could not pass all the tents unseen. Just at the\nprojecting point a large valley ran in from the north: we only guessed\nat it, for everything was hidden in the snowstorm. Gulam went a little\nway ahead and gave me the sign to dismount. Immediately in front of the\npoint stood four tents and a small stone cabin, where a man stood\nwatching us, and also a chief's tent of such huge dimensions that I\nnever saw its like; it was as large as a house. Here we left Lobsang and\nAbdul Rasak, and went on eastwards with a much diminished party. The\nchief volume of the Gebuk-chu comes from the northern valley; in our\nvalley, which we knew led to the Gebuk-la, only a brook was left. We set\nup our tents on the terrace at the mouth of a northern side valley. All\nthe country was white, and not a shadow could be seen of the\nsurroundings.\n\nOur three tents stood as usual close together, mine with its opening up\nthe valley, that is, eastwards. After a while the men left behind came\nup and gave their reports in turn. They had bought provisions for two\ndays, and had learned that the district was called Gebuk-yung. The next\nday we should go over the Gebuk-la and encamp at the foot of the\nKinchen-la, from the top of which we should see Raga-tasam the following\nday. Of course it was risky for three parties of our men to visit three\ntents near together, for the Tibetans always asked about the routes we\nhad followed and our plans, and our men might in their haste give\ndiscordant answers. In the large tent Lobsang had been cross-examined,\nand had answered that we came from the Gertse Pun, who had advised us to\ntake this byroad because we should reach Raga-tasam two days sooner\nthan if we went through Saka-dzong. \"Quite true,\" the Tibetans answered,\nbut also warned us against robbers, for thirteen Ladakis would be but a\nmouthful for an ordinary robber band, and the country was very unsafe.\n\"It is well for you that you have good weapons,\" they said.\n\nLastly, Abdul Kerim turned up with his purchases. He had learned that\nall the tents we had seen in the day belonged to Kamba Tsenam, who lived\nhimself in the largest, but he happened to be in Saka-dzong, where an\nassembly had been convened in anticipation of an impending visit from a\nhigh Chinese official, and the question what present should be made to\nhim had to be decided. Kamba Tsenam owned thirty-five horses, which were\ngrazing beyond Gebuk-la, and if the rich nomad returned in the evening\nwe should certainly be able to buy some from him.\n\n\"You say,\" declared an elderly man in Kamba Tsenam's service, \"that you\nare a _tsongpun_ (merchant) from Ladak. Why then do you travel by this\ndangerous side route? Here you can drive no trade. How have you found\nthe way? Why have you travelled in winter? Why do you ask the names of\nthe valleys?\"\n\n\"I have to write down all the names,\" he answered, \"that we may find the\nway again in summer, for I am commissioned to make large purchases of\nwool.\"\n\n\"That is well, you shall have several hundred bales of sheep's wool from\nus. I will give you a guide in the morning; you will pay him a rupee for\ntwo days. Without him you cannot find your way over the Gebuk-la,\nespecially when the ground is covered with snow.\"\n\n[Illustration: 330. TRAVELLING LADAKI MERCHANT IN WEST TIBET. 331. OANG\nGYE, SON OF THE GOVERNOR OF SAKA. 332. PANCHOR, THE YAK-SLAYER, MY GUIDE\nON THE JOURNEY TO THE TERI-NAM-TSO. 333. WOMAN OF YUMBA-MATSEN.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nAbdul Kerim had thanked him for his kindness and then had come to look\nfor us. We were sitting and deliberating when two riders armed with guns\ncame up to our tents. They were close upon us when they appeared out of\nthe snowstorm. We just managed to close my tent and fasten up Takkar\nbefore the entrance. The elder man was Abdul Kerim's friend from the\nlarge tent, the other the youth who was offered to us as a guide. They\ntied up their horses and went nonchalantly into Abdul Kerim's tent. Here\nthey sat and gossiped for an hour, and offered a large handsome white\nhorse for sale at the price of 127 rupees. Abdul Kerim bought it,\nwhereupon they asked how much money he had with him, and whether he was\nnot afraid of being attacked. Afterwards they went about the tents and\nlooked around, and I drew a breath of relief when they at last vanished\nin the snow with the other horse.\n\nNow we considered the situation. To refuse the guide would seem\nextremely suspicious, for the snow already lay a foot deep, and the\npath--all we had to depend on--was covered up. But to have a stranger, a\nspy, in the caravan for two days and a night was still more dangerous.\nWhen Kutus and Sedik went back a little later to the large tent to fetch\na bowl of sour milk, they were told to say that our _tsongpun_ did not\nwant a guide, for we should remain quiet a day, either here or at the\nnext camp. \"Your _tsongpun_ speaks with two tongues, he does not know\nwhat he wants,\" the men answered.\n\nWe left this dangerous place on April 23 before the sun was up, and I\nwent first with the sheep in case our neighbours paid a morning visit.\nThe weather cleared and the sun came out, and then the snow quickly\nevaporated. Farther up all the valley floor was covered with a\ncontinuous sheet of ice. In front of us was seen the pass Gebuk-la. Here\na little old man was following ten mares. He pretended not to see us,\nbut he was soon overtaken by Abdul Kerim and Kunchuk, who kept him\ncompany most of the day. With Lobsang I rested half an hour on the pass,\nat a height of 16,978 feet. To the east and south-east of us lay an\nentanglement of mountains and valleys, and without the horse-tender we\nhad so fortunately found it would have been quite impossible to find our\nway over the succession of small saddles which followed. To the\nsouth-south-east the snowy massive of Chomo-uchong rose in radiant\nsunshine; to the north was a huge crest, which I, like Ryder, took for\nthe main range of the Trans-Himalaya and the watershed, but this turned\nout afterwards to be a mistake.\n\nThe horse-driver took us up a secondary saddle, at the eastern foot of\nwhich runs a deeply eroded valley, which, coming from the north, 10\u00b0 E.,\nis the upper section of the valley we followed last year, and which\nruns down to Basang, where I saw Muhamed Isa for the last time among the\nnumber of the living. Here was the driver's tent, and to escape his\ncompany during the night we continued our march after the stranger had\ngiven us instructions about the way. Our camp 390 was situated in the\nmouth of a small valley on the ascent to the Kinchen-la, where we were\noverwhelmed in a terribly dense and violent snowstorm.\n\nThe guide, who had so fortunately appeared at the right moment, had said\nin the presence of our men that he was Kamba Tsenam's brother and a\ngreat yak-slayer. The year before he had seen in Saka-dzong a European\nwhose caravan leader, a big strong fellow, had inspired respect wherever\nhe showed himself. But he had died suddenly in Saka, and his comrades\nhad digged a long hole in the ground where they had laid him. He thought\nit strange that Ladakis, who were of the same faith as the Tibetans,\nwould travel with and serve the hated Europeans.\n\nFor the future we determined to observe yet greater caution. Two or\nthree Ladakis should always wear dark eye-glasses, so that mine might\nnot seem so peculiar. As soon as we could buy woollen material all the\nmen should have new clothes, so that I in my rags would seem the poorest\nand meanest of the party.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXVII\n\nAPRIL 24\n\n\nIn these days our life was dismal and lonesome, and our future\nuncertain. We went as in the dark, feeling with our hands lest we should\nfall. Every day which passed without any untoward event came upon me as\na complete surprise. We had now only two days' journey to Raga-tasam on\nthe great highway, where caravans and travellers fare to and fro, and\nGovernment officials are responsible that no unauthorized person slips\npast. I was thoroughly sick of my disguise and the constant uncertainty,\nand longed for a crisis to free me from my embarrassment. But to deliver\nourselves, of our own free will, into the hands of the Tibetans was out\nof the question. They must detect us themselves, and till then the\nstrain on our nerves must continue.\n\nApril 24--the anniversary of the _Vega's_ return to Stockholm in 1880!\nAt sunrise the whole country lay under a bright wintry shroud of white\nsnow. The thermometer had fallen to 2\u00bd\u00b0, but when the sun mounted up the\nhorses steamed, and light clouds of vapour rose up from the snow, so\nthat we might have been riding through a land of sol-fataras and\nfumaroles. Our caravan animals struggled bravely up the tough ascent. Of\nsheep we had only twenty left, and two of them were veterans from\nLumbur-ringmo-tso. Twice we thought that the pass, Kinchen-la, was just\nbefore us, but new heights rose farther back, and we worked our way up\nhills, among which brooks run down towards Basang and Saka-dzong, where\nMuhamed Isa sleeps in his mound. To the south-west Chomo-uchong's\nsummits presented a grand sight. At length we made the last ascent up\nto the top of the pass, where the height is 17,851 feet above sea-level.\nAt the other side a river runs north-east, one of the headwaters of the\nRaga-tsangpo. To the west there is a brilliant spectacle, the summits of\nLunpo-gangri rising in sharp and savage beauty from a maze of mountains\nand ridges, which shine in lighter bluer shades the more remote they\nare. To the north-east we catch a glimpse of an outlying ridge covered\nfrom foot to crest with new-fallen snow. The broad flat valley of the\nRaga-tsangpo stretches eastwards as far as the eye can see. In the far\ndistance to the east-south-east a grand snowy crest shines forth, the\nnorthernmost of the Himalayan system (Illust. 199).\n\nWe stayed a long time at the top, and I sketched a panorama. Then we\nfollowed the track of the caravan over the lower shoulders of two\nmountains, and found our camp pitched in a valley with good grass and a\nbrook partially frozen. My tent looked towards its bank, and all three\nstood as usual in a line. This day also had passed satisfactorily, but\nall would be different next day, for then we should come to Raga-tasam,\nwhere we encamped last year and stayed a week. Camp 391 was, then, the\nlast where we could still feel at ease, for we had seen no living being\nall day long, and had no neighbours. Here, then, we must arrange some\nfresh safeguards.\n\nWe must sort out from our already scanty baggage all articles that might\nexcite suspicion, as, for example, the small padded leather box in which\nthe theodolite was packed; for the future it would be rolled with its\ninner wooden case in my bed. Further, the hypsometer's leather case and\nthe actinometer, which probably would never be used again. Whatever was\ncombustible was to be thrown into the fire and the rest buried. A couple\nof rugs of camel's wool were also to be discarded.\n\n[Illustration: 334. TIBETANS WITH YAKS.]\n\n[Illustration: 335. DORCHE TSUEN ON THE MARCH.]\n\nTo begin with, we must make a change in our housing arrangements. I was\nto sleep for the last time in my old weather-beaten tent, where our\nchief, Abdul Kerim, was henceforth to set up his quarters and receive\nguests. For me a compartment of about 2 square yards, not larger than\nmy bed, was partitioned off in Abdul Kerim's tent. This crib, which,\nwhen the camp was set up, was enclosed on all sides, was henceforth to\nbe my prison cell. It was like a secret drawer in a bureau, and when it\nwas ready I inspected it and found it somewhat narrow but comfortable.\n\nSuen was my hairdresser, and he had just completed his business when\nAbdul Kerim looked in at the tent opening and whispered that four men\nwith yaks were coming up the valley on the road we had to go down from\nthe Kinchen-la. I hurriedly set my disguise in order and wound the\nturban round my head, while the flap was fastened, and Takkar was tied\nup before my tent. Then I looked through the peephole in the tent canvas\non the side towards the upper end of the valley, and saw eight men on\nfoot in dark-blue and red dresses, with red scarves round their heads,\nall armed with guns and swords, and leading nine horses; one man led two\nladen horses. What in the world did this mean? They were not robbers,\nfor they came suddenly and at night. They seemed rather men in\nGovernment service; the two in front were certainly officials. My men\noccupied themselves at their fire; I could see that they were a prey to\nthe greatest uneasiness.\n\nThe strangers came straight to our camp-fire as if it were the end of\ntheir journey. They formed a circle round Abdul Kerim, Lobsang, Kutus,\nand Gulam, and began an animated but subdued conversation. Three of\nthem, evidently servants, led the horses to a spot barely thirty paces\nfrom my tent and right in front of it. There they took off all the\nsaddles and loads, sent off the horses to graze, brought out pots and\ncans, arranged three stones in order, collected fuel, made a fire,\nfetched water in a large pot and cooked tea. It was plain that they\nintended to camp here for the night, and that they had intruded on us\nfor the purpose of watching us.\n\nThe other five entered Abdul Kerim's tent, threw themselves down, and\ncontinued the conversation in the same low quiet voice and in thoroughly\npolite and measured tones. I could not catch what they said, but that\nthe affair was serious I could only too plainly perceive, for I heard my\nname mentioned--Hedin Sahib. After a good hour's conversation they went\nout again and made a tour round my tent, but the furious Takkar would\nnot let them approach the door. But they discovered the peephole in the\nside of the tent, and a man put his finger in and looked through the\nhole, but I was lying against the folds of the tent on the same side, so\nhe could not see me. Then they went and threw themselves down in a\ncircle round the fire, brought out their wooden cups and drank tea. They\nsat right in front of the entrance to my tent, and I could not get out\nwithout being seen.\n\nThen Abdul Kerim whispered from the back of my tent and inside his own,\nand told me what the men had said. The leader, a stoutish young man of\ngood appearance, had put the usual questions and received the usual\nanswers. Then he had uttered the following words in a serious and\ndecided tone:\n\n\"News of your arrival has come to the Governor of Saka-dzong through two\nsalt caravans which passed your party above Pasa-guk. As it has never\noccurred that a merchant from Ladak has come from the north and has\ntravelled on the byway through Gebuk, the Governor and the other\nauthorities in Saka suspected that Hedin Sahib might be concealed among\nyou, and the more so because he himself expressed his wish last year to\ncome back again and travel through the mountainous regions in the north.\nTherefore my comrades and I received orders to follow your trail,\novertake you, and subject you to the most searching examination. We are\nin no hurry, and in the morning we shall get several yak-loads of\nprovisions. You protest that Hedin Sahib is not among you disguised as a\nLadaki. Well, it may be that you are telling the truth. But remember,\n_tsongpun_, that we shall carry out our orders to the letter. You are\nthirteen men from Ladak, you say, and I can see only ten. Where are the\nothers?\"\n\n\"They are out collecting fuel.\"\n\n\"Good. When you are all assembled here we intend to search you down to\nthe skin. Then we shall turn out all your baggage and empty every sack\nwe find in your tents. And if in this examination we find nothing\nbelonging to a European, it will remain for you to give a written\ndeclaration that no European is among your party concealed or disguised,\nand under this declaration you must set your name-stamp. Then you can\ntravel early in the morning where you like, and we shall return to\nSaka.\"\n\nWhen I heard this report the situation became quite clear to me, and I\nat once decided what I would do. But first I crept by the secret way\ninto the caravan leader's tent, where I found myself surrounded by my\nretainers, except three, who were to warn us if the Tibetans came back\nagain.\n\n\"What is to be done?\" I asked Abdul Kerim.\n\n\"The Sahib knows best himself. As far as I can see, our condition is\nhopeless,\" answered the honest man, who had got us out of many a scrape\nbefore.\n\n\"What does Lobsang think?\"\n\n\"It would not be wise to give them such a declaration,\" he answered with\na very troubled face.\n\n\"Sahib,\" suggested Kutus, \"if they give us breathing-time till night,\nthe Sahib and I can hide among the mountains as at the time when we were\nclose to Tsongpun Tashi. When the search is over we can rejoin the\ncaravan farther down. I can carry the Sahib's papers, and other European\narticles can be buried in the ground under the tent.\"\n\n\"They know that we are thirteen,\" remarked Gulam.\n\nUnder the force of circumstances we had made our way right across Tibet\nwith a trumped-up story, but to let Abdul Kerim confirm a false document\nwith his name-stamp on my account was a little too strong even for my\ngeographical conscience. I could not consent to that. Whatever might\nhappen, our position was still a strong one. We were in the heart of\nTibet. The next move would be that we should be sent out of the country,\nand by whatever way we were obliged to go, I should certainly gain\nsomething more. I would absolutely refuse to go to Ladak, but I would be\ncontent to go to India through Nepal, or, better still, through\nGyangtse.\n\n\"No,\" I said to my men as I rose up, \"I shall give myself up to the\nTibetans.\"\n\nThen they were all amazed, and began to cry and sob like children.\n\n\"Why do you weep?\" I asked.\n\n\"We shall part here for good, and the Sahib will be killed,\" they\nanswered.\n\n\"Oh no, it is not so bad as that,\" I said, for it was not the first time\nI had been caught by Tibetans.\n\nWhen I walked out of the tent I heard behind me the murmur of Mohammedan\nprayers: \"Allahu ekber--Bismillah rahman errahim.\"\n\nIn my usual disguise from top to toe, and with my face painted black, I\nwalked with slow, deliberate steps straight to the circle of Tibetans.\nWhen I was close to them they all rose up, as if they knew that I was no\nordinary Ladaki.\n\n\"Sit down,\" I said, with a dignified gesture of invitation, and sat down\nmyself between the two principal men. In the one on my right hand I\nrecognized at once the Pemba Tsering of the year before. I clapped him\non the shoulder, saying, \"Do you know me again, Pemba Tsering?\" He\nanswered not a word, but looked with wide-opened eyes at his comrades,\nand nodded towards me, as much as to say \"It is he.\" They were mightily\ndumbfoundered and disconcerted: no one spoke, some looked at one\nanother, others gazed into the fire, one threw a couple of sticks among\nthe stones, and another took small sips of tea.\n\nThen I spoke again: \"Yes, truly, Pemba Tsering, you are quite right; I\nam Hedin Sahib, who visited Saka-dzong last year. Here you have me\nagain; what do you mean to do with me?\"\n\nAbdul Kerim, Lobsang, and Kutus stood behind, trembling like aspen\nleaves, and expecting that preparations for an execution would be the\nnext move.\n\n[Illustration: 336. FAREWELL ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE TIBETANS ON MAY 5,\n1908.]\n\nStill they made no answer, but began to whisper together in groups. The\nyounger official, who was evidently the cock of the walk, for the others\nlooked at him and waited for him to speak, began to look through his\npapers, and picked out one which he read in silence. As they were so\nlong in recovering from their consternation--for they had not expected\nto get hold of me so easily--I sent Kutus for a box of Egyptian\ncigarettes, and offered them all round. Each took one with thanks, and\nlighted it after I had set an example and showed them that the\ncigarettes were not filled with gunpowder. Then the ice was broken, and\nthe leader began to speak very softly and without looking at me.\n\n\"Yesterday strict orders came from the Devashung that the Governor of\nSaka would be held responsible for Europeans who might sneak into the\ncountry from the west, and if any European showed himself he must be\nimmediately forced to return by the way he came. When the report reached\nSaka of a caravan two days' journey off, the Governor suspected that it\nmight be you, Hedin Sahib, and we have now accomplished our task. In the\nGovernor's name we forbid you to take another step eastwards. We beg you\nto conform in all things to our directions; our heads and your personal\nsafety are at stake. To-morrow you will follow us over the Kinchen-la to\nSaka-dzong.\"\n\n\"I said last year that I must and would see the mountain region north of\nSaka. Now I have seen it, and you have not been able to prevent me. You\nsee then that I can do more in your country than yourselves. Now I\nintend to travel back to India, but by which way only Lien Darin, Amban\nof Lhasa, shall decide. It is therefore my intention to write to him,\nand I shall not go anywhere before his answer comes.\"\n\n\"We do not wish you to travel by any other way than the one you choose,\nbut we have no authority to forward a letter to Lhasa; the Governor will\ndecide the question himself. It is with him you must treat; you must\nmeet him personally. Therefore we will accompany you to-morrow to\nSaka-dzong.\"\n\n\"No, sir, anywhere else you please, but not to Saka-dzong. You know that\nmy caravan leader died and lies buried there. It is against my\nprinciples to visit a place where I have buried a faithful servant. You\nshall never get me to Saka-dzong even if you raise all Tibet.\"\n\n\"If it would trouble you to see Saka-dzong again, we will certainly not\nurge you to go thither. Will you instead have the kindness to follow us\nto Semoku by the Tsango, on the _tasam_, which is only two days' journey\nto the south-west? I will then write to the Governor and ask him to meet\nyou there.\"\n\n\"Good; I will follow you to Semoku to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Thanks; I will at once send an express messenger to inform the\nGovernor, so that you may not have to wait at Semoku. But tell me why\nyou have come back again? You travel and travel in Tibet and you are\nalways sent away, but always come back again. Had you not enough last\nyear, when you were obliged to leave the country by the road to Ladak?\nAnd now you turn up again among us. How is that possible, and why are\nyou come?\"\n\n\"Because I love your country and your friendly people to such a degree\nthat I cannot live without them.\"\n\n\"H'm! It is very kind of you to say so, but would it not be better if\nyou were to love your own country a little more? As long as we do not\ntravel in your country, you should not travel in ours; we remain at\nhome, and the best thing you can do is to remain in your country.\"\n\n\"As long as I can sit in a saddle I shall come back. You can inform the\nDevashung at your leisure that their Excellencies may look for more\nvisits.\"\n\n[Illustration: 337, 338, 339, 340. THE DANCERS AT THE CAMP-FIRE: TUBGES,\nKUNCHUK, SUEN.]\n\nThey laughed pleasantly and looked at one another, as much as to say:\n\"If he likes to come back, he is welcome as far as we are concerned.\"\nAnd my Ladakis laughed and were extremely astonished that our last day\nof freedom had come to so peaceful and merry an ending. The Tibetans\nwere exceedingly agreeable, polite, and gentle, and never uttered a hard\nor peevish word about the trouble that I had again brought upon them.\nAnd when the old wool story, which Abdul Kerim a little while before had\ntried to cram down their throats, was referred to, they laughed heartily\nand thought that it was a grand device. They are so accustomed to lie\nthemselves that they have a great admiration for any one else who\nsucceeds in deceiving them. They thought it very wonderful that we had\nbeen able to cross the whole country without detection, and believed\nthat I must possess some mysterious powers of which they knew\nnothing, and that they must be very cautious in dealing with me.\n\nThe young official, who was named Rinche Dorche, but was called Rindor,\na contraction of the two names, wrote a long letter to the Governor of\nSaka, saying that I was the same Hedin Sahib who had been here the year\nbefore, that we had come to a friendly agreement to proceed to Semoku,\nthat I did not wish to travel to Ladak but straight to India, and that\nLien Darin alone was to decide on the route. The letter was sealed, and\ndespatched by a mounted courier over the Kinchen-la.\n\nThen we talked and jested again, and before sunset we were as intimate\nas though we had been friends from childhood. We might have made an\nappointment to meet in this barren valley and been glad to have found\none another. It was easy to understand that the Tibetans were pleased.\nThey little thought when the sun rose that they would make such a good\ncatch before evening. The successful issue of their mission would be of\ngreat advantage; they would be commended by the Governor and gain\npromotion. For my part I had a feeling of unmixed satisfaction. Our\nfreedom was at an end, but for me it had been nothing but an exceedingly\nenervating captivity. Now, for the first time, I felt perfectly free,\nand was no longer a prisoner in my own tent; I should have no need of\nthat wretched hiding-hole in Abdul Kerim's tent. The Tibetans laughed\nloudly at my ragged, smutty, greasy dress of coarse grey sackcloth, in\nwhich I looked like a convict, or, at best, like a begging monk of the\nGrey Friars' confraternity. Then they understood how I had succeeded in\ncrossing Bongba unseen and unknown. How delightful it would be to throw\nmy rags into the fire and clothe myself in a clean neat Tibetan costume,\nto be no longer obliged to hide my papers and instruments in rice sacks,\nand not to have to paint my face black as a Moor's instead of washing\nmyself. As soon as we had parted from our new friends in the evening,\nGulam took a hand-basin of warm water into my tent, and then I had a\ngood scrubbing from top to toe, and the water showed that I wanted it.\nHe had to change the water four times before I was tolerably clean. Then\nI clipped my Mohammedan beard to the skin, and sadly missed the razors\nI had thrown away. But I was glad that we had not burned the things we\nhad condemned some hours earlier.\n\nRindor begged the loan of one of our tents, as their own transport train\nwas not expected till the morning. Besides Pemba Tsering, there were two\nother men I had known the year before. They were all very friendly, and\nsaid that we had tipped them very generously. There was also a wrinkled\nold man in the party, who was always smoking a Chinese pipe. His name\nwas Kamba Tsenam, and it was his tent near which we had so nearly been\ndetained two days before.\n\nThus ended April 24, 1908. Strange, melancholy thoughts took possession\nof me when I went to bed. The Tibetans had again thwarted my plans--I\nknow not how many times they had done so. Our future was dark as ever,\nbut it had arrived at a new stage, and on the 25th we should wake up to\nbegin a new chapter. The deep silence in the valley was only disturbed\noccasionally by Takkar, when the faithful dog barked at the Tibetans.\nHis bark was re-echoed from both flanks as though three dogs kept guard\nover us. And the everlasting stars glittered as before over our lonely\ntents.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXVIII\n\nHIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF SAKA\n\n\nOn April 25 we rode in a compact body to the mouth of a valley east of\nChomo-uchong, called Radak. Six Tibetans guarded me on both sides, and\nour journey had some resemblance to a convict train. Now I was not\nobliged to dismount before we passed a tent. On the left hand was a\nlarge open plain where Raga-tasam is situated. A shot was heard in the\ndeserted country, and Rindor sent two men to see what it was. An\nantelope hunter! He was arrested and beaten; for the Government, at\necclesiastical instigation, had forbidden the extinction of life for\nthree years, except in the case of sheep and yaks. I was reminded of the\nagreement to forbid Europeans to travel in Tibet for three years.\n\nNow I drew my map of the route, took compass bearings, and sketched a\npanorama quite at my ease. The Tibetans wondered at me and questioned\nme, but did not trouble themselves much about my work. And I had plenty\nof time to think of the line of policy I should adopt during the\nfollowing negotiations. I knew that they would urge me to return by the\nway I had come, through Bongba, or by the road I had taken to Ladak the\nyear before. For my part, I had now had enough of Tibet and I longed to\nget home, and wished to avoid routes that involved loss of time and that\nI knew already. Now I only wished to travel to India _vi\u00e2_ Shigatse and\nGyangtse, and I would try to obtain permission to travel to these towns\nby roads where no one had been before. After the excitement in which we\nhad lived so long came a reaction. I was worn-out, weary, and\nindifferent to everything except the nearest way home. Therefore I sat\ndown and wrote a letter of fifteen pages to Lien Darin, referred to his\nfriendly letter sent to Gartok, gave an account of our last journey,\npointed out to him that no Great Power could take it amiss if I\ntravelled out of the country through Gyangtse, promised that in return I\nwould give him information about the occurrences of gold and salt I had\nseen, and about the measures which should be taken for the promotion of\nsheep-breeding,--all natural resources, which would contribute to the\nadvancement of China's newest province, Tibet. And I concluded my letter\nwith wishes for the happiness and prosperity of Lien Darin himself and\npeace to his forefathers' graves.\n\nI did not doubt a moment that he would give his consent to such a modest\nrequest, and I saw in my mind's eye the dramatic scene when I should\nmake my first call on Major O'Connor in Tibetan dress, and have a little\nfun with him before I made myself known. But I may as well say at once\nthat this long epistle to Lien Darin was never sent. My opponent's\ntactics lured me to a contest in which he was checkmated in two moves.\nMy merit was as little now as formerly; I was always a marionette, and\nthe hands which held the strings hung over the paths where the clouds\nand stars move.\n\nIn the evening I had a visit from Pemba Tsering and Kamba Tsenam. The\nformer was much more gentle and friendly than the year before; the\nlatter was a great humorist, who did not seem at all annoyed that he had\nomitted to close the bag when he had us in it, and had let a valuable\nbooty fall into the hands of another. They had heard of my adventurous\nvoyages on Tso-mavang, and were astonished that I had escaped with my\nlife.\n\n[Illustration: 341. INNER COURT OF SELIPUK.]\n\n[Illustration: 342. DORCHE TSUEN AND NGAVANG ON HORSEBACK.]\n\nTwo short days' marches took us over the pass Kule-la and down to the\nvalley where Semoku stands on the great high-road. Here stood some\nscattered tents, and the Governor and his colleagues had established\nthemselves in the small stone house of the station. All the more\nimportant posts in Tibet are entrusted to two gentlemen: thus, for\nexample, there are always two garpuns or viceroys in Gartok, a system\nadopted with the intention that one shall control the other or shall\ninform of the other if he is guilty of any roguery. In Saka-dzong,\nhowever, the one governor seemed to be of higher rank than the other; at\nany rate, he conducted all the negotiations as though he possessed\ngreater authority.\n\nAs soon as we were ready Rindor and two other men came into my tent and\nbrought a message from the Governor that he awaited me in the\nstation-house. I answered, that if he wanted anything of me he might\ncome to my tent. It was not long before a party of men crossed the\nhundred yards between our dwellings. I went out to meet them, invited\nthem to come in and sit down as far as the space allowed, took up my\nposition on my bed, and had before me three gentlemen, namely, Dorche\nTsuen, _pun_ or Governor of Saka-dzong (Illust. 327), Ngavang, his\ncolleague, and Oang Gye, his eighteen-year-old son (Illust. 331). A\ncrowd of servants, nomads, and soldiers massed together at the tent\ndoor.\n\nPun Dorche Tsuen is an unusually tall Tibetan, forty-three years old, of\nsympathetic and refined appearance, dressed in a Chinese costume of\nsilk, with a small silk cap on his head, a pigtail behind, and velvet\nboots. He is a man of wealth, owning large flocks in the province over\nwhich he rules and a stone house in Lhasa, his home, for he is an _upa_\nor domiciled inhabitant of the province U, the capital of which is\nLhasa. There dwell three of his four sons, and one of them is a young\nlama. His wife has been dead some years.\n\nNgavang, his coadjutor, is a little, fat, kindly man in Tibetan costume,\nbut with a Chinese cap and pigtail. Oang Gye wears his hair in Tibetan\nfashion, wears no head-covering, and, like his father, is exceedingly\nsympathetic and good-natured.\n\n\"I hope that you have had a successful journey and have not suffered\nmuch from cold,\" said Dorche Tsuen.\n\n\"Oh, it was cold, and we have lost our caravan, our clothes are in rags,\nand our provisions are at an end, but, as you see, that is of no\nconsequence to us.\"\n\n\"At the time of your visit to Saka-dzong last year I was in Tsonka, but\nI received an account of your movements. You were sent away. Why have\nyou come back again?\"\n\n\"To visit the districts I was then prevented from seeing. I am ashamed\nto have given you the trouble of coming here from Saka-dzong. I hope\nthat we shall soon come to an agreement about the route I am to take in\norder to leave the country.\"\n\nNow I should have to play my cards well. I had changed my mind during\nthe last few days. I had rested, the reaction after the excitement of\ntravelling in disguise had passed away, and I was exceedingly eager to\nattempt some new discoveries before I gave up the game. I had, it is\ntrue, succeeded in making a very valuable traverse across Bongba. I had\ntravelled straight across the word \"Unexplored\" on the latest English\nmap of Tibet--yea, I had passed between the _p_ and _l_, so that \"unexp\"\nlay on the west side of my route and \"lored\" on the east (see Map 1,\nVol. I.). But I had left quite untouched two extensive stretches of the\nlarge blank patch, and I dreamed of nothing else than to cross Bongba\nagain by two fresh routes. It would certainly take four or five months\nto return to India after a northerly zigzag course, instead of a couple\nof weeks if I made for British territory through Gyangtse, as I intended\nat first. But if I succeeded in making the northerly detour I should\ncarry home material of perhaps greater value than the discoveries\nalready made. Dorche Tsuen answered with firm decision:\n\n\"As to your way back, I will tell you at once: not a step further east;\nmy head depends on it. Here you see the order I received a couple of\ndays ago from the Devashung. I will read it to you. Last year you\ntravelled without leave to Nepal, to Kubi-gangri, across the holy lake,\nround Kang-rinpoche, and to Yumba-matsen. I know exactly where you went.\nYou cannot do the same this year. It is probably in consequence of your\njourney in all sorts of forbidden directions that the Devashung has\ndistributed through the country instructions regarding Europeans. Two\nofficials have recently been sent from Lhasa to Shansa-dzong to see\nthat no European approaches the holy city from Naktsang. Some time ago a\nChinese officer with 200 soldiers was moved to Tingri to guard the\ncountry from intrusion from the south. Not even a Gurkha or a Hindu can\nnow travel in Tibet without especial permission. The other day I\nreceived a letter from the Chinese frontier official in Tingri which I\nwill read to you. As you see, he orders me to force any European who may\ncome to Saka from the north to return in his own footsteps. If he\nrefuses, I have to send off a messenger to Tingri, and shall receive\nassistance in a few days from the soldiers stationed there. Times are\nchanged in Tibet. If you will not listen to me and travel back by the\nway you came, I will send a messenger to Tingri. But, like you, I hope\nthat we shall come to an agreement without unpleasantness and outside\ninterference.\"\n\nMy next move was a feint, namely, to try for the Gyangtse route; I would\nin the end conform to his wishes and give up the Gyangtse route under\nthe condition that I should not be compelled to travel along roads I\nknew already. I pointed out how near we were to Gyangtse, and how easily\nhe would get rid of me if I went thither, but nothing made any\nimpression on him. He only answered, \"All that is true, but the road is\nclosed to you.\"\n\n\"Well, I will give it up for your sake, but only on condition that you\nforward a letter from me to the British Trade Agent in Gyangtse. You can\nunderstand that my family are disturbed at my long absence and are\nlooking for news of me.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can understand that, but I regret to say that I cannot forward\nyour correspondence. All the authorities in Tibet are strictly forbidden\nto assist a European in any way, as he has no right to travel in the\ncountry.\"\n\n\"You will perhaps allow two of my own servants to carry a letter from me\nto Gyangtse?\"\n\n\"No, never!\"\n\n\"Well, at least, you can inform the Devashung of my arrival, and ask the\nGovernment to send notice of it to Gyangtse.\"\n\n\"I sent a messenger to the Devashung as soon as I received the letter\nfrom Rindor. They will know in Lhasa in a few days that you are come\nhere again.\"\n\nI had never induced any Tibetan magistrate to forward my letters. That\nDorche Tsuen refused to do me such a trifling service had the deplorable\nconsequence that my family did not receive any reliable report of me\ntill September, and therefore supposed that some misfortune had befallen\nme. Instead of reaching the frontier in a couple of weeks, I was sent\nback again into the silence of Tibet, and the waves washed again over\nour track. But I took it for granted that news of our arrival on the\n_tasam_ would penetrate to Gyangtse both officially and through reports,\nand would then be made known everywhere. Such, however, was not the\ncase, and after we left the _tasam_ our fate was buried in the same\ncomplete silence as before.\n\n\"No, Hedin Sahib,\" Dorche Tsuen cried out, \"the only way open to you is\nthe one by which you came from the north.\"\n\n\"I will never travel by that road. It is no use talking about it.\"\n\n\"You must.\"\n\n\"You cannot force me to do so. To begin with, I will not let you know\nwhich way I came, and I travelled in disguise.\"\n\n\"It does not matter. It is very well known that you came from the\nSamye-la and the Kinchen-la. Beyond that the escort I shall send with\nyou will ask the way from tent to tent.\"\n\n\"The nomads will answer that they have seen no Ladakis, for fear of\nbeing punished.\"\n\n\"I shall find means of making them confess more than you think.\"\n\n\"You can kill me if you like, but you shall never force me to travel\nover the Samye-la. Remember that I am a European and a friend of the\nTashi Lama. You may lose your button.\"\n\nMuch disturbed, Dorche Tsuen conferred in whispers with Ngavang.\n\n[Illustration: 343. THE AUTHOR IN TIBETAN DRESS.\n\nFrom a photograph by the Rev. Mr. Marx, in Poo.]\n\n\"I will give way so far for your sake that I will allow you to return to\nLadak by the same road you followed last year, through Tradum,\nTuksum, Shamsang, Parka, and Gartok.\"\n\nThat was the very solution I most feared. If there were any road in all\nTibet that I wished to avoid at any cost it was the road to Ladak. I\nanswered:\n\n\"Never! Not a step on the great high-road to Ladak!\"\n\n\"But why? You ought to be thankful for so great a concession.\"\n\n\"It is forbidden by the laws of my country for a man to return in his\nown footsteps. You can cut my throat, but you will not force me to do\nanything of the sort.\"\n\n\"You must have strange laws in your country. May I hear which way you\nreally wish to take?\"\n\n\"I have already said through Gyangtse. You refused and I understand your\nmotive. You have urged me to go back to the north. Even in this respect\nI will conform to your wishes, but only on the condition that I am not\nobliged to retrace my steps. I will go over another pass east of the\nSamye-la and northwards to the Teri-nam-tso and then westwards by the\nshortest way out of Tibet.\"\n\n\"That is not to be thought of. But let us take the matter quietly. Will\nyou agree to accompany me to Kamba Tsenam's tent, four days' journey\nfrom here? You have been there already, and before we reach it we shall\nhave come to some understanding.\"\n\n\"Yes, willingly.\"\n\nOpposition spurred me on. It now became a point of honour to win a new\ngame of chess. My position was very strong. The _tasam_ was eliminated.\nIf I could only cross the Trans-Himalaya by a more easterly pass, I\nshould by some ruse or other gain the Teri-nam-tso, Mendong-gompa, the\nlower Buptsang-tsangpo, the Tarok-tso, Selipuk, and an eighth\nTrans-Himalayan pass. Yes, now I must, if ever, play my cards well. I\nstill felt young and strong. The political entanglement which\nencompassed me on all sides in Tibet rendered it difficult for me to\nmake geographical discoveries, but it stimulated my ambition. Therefore\nI remember with particular warmth and sympathy all those who, in virtue\nof their temporary power in the world, sought to raise obstacles in my\nway.\n\nWe then talked on various subjects. He wished to see our weapons, and\nasked if he could buy a revolver. \"No; you shall have it as a present,\ncartridges and all, if you will let me go the way I have proposed.\"\n\n\"H'm!\"\n\n\"You must procure us all the provisions we need for two months, besides\nnew shoes, clothing, tobacco, horses, mules, yaks.\"\n\n\"With pleasure; make out a list of all you want.\"\n\nIt was done at once. Meal, _tsamba_, tea, sugar, Japanese cigarettes,\nwhich were said to be procurable--all was to be brought from Tsongka,\nwhither mounted men were sent the same day across the Tsangpo and over\nthe Nevu-la. Everything was to be in our tents in a week. The rest could\nbe obtained from Saka-dzong. In the evening I paid an equally long\nreturn visit to my valiant friend Pun Dorche Tsuen, and at night I\nconsigned my letter to Lien Darin to the flames. Ah no! no Chinese\ninterference in Tibeto-Swedish affairs.\n\nOn the 28th we remained quiet and visited one another by the hour\ntogether. The two governors sat on benches fastened to the wall, Rindor\nand Oang Gye on mats on the floor, and all four played at dice. The two\ndice were shaken in a wooden bowl, and turned out on to a round piece of\nskin. The markers were small Indian snailshells. Then they played with\nChinese dominoes. Meanwhile they drank tea, smoked pipes, sang, joked,\nlaughed, and moved the bricks with wonderful and graceful dexterity.\nNgavang won ten _tengas_ and was greatly elated. In this way they pass\nthe time when the day's work is done. Rindor is the Governor's private\nsecretary, and on a bench and a table lay piles of documents and\nletters, written on coarse Chinese paper, and folded up one on another.\nThe Governor's correspondence now comes to Semoku, and his daily work\nmust run its course. His province, Saka, is very extensive, and he\nstates with some pride that his power stretches to Sangsang in the east,\nto the Nevu-la in the south, to the Marium-la in the west, and\nnorthwards some days' journey beyond Kamba Tsenam's tent.\n\n[Illustration: 344, 345. SOLDIERS OF THE GARRISON OF SAKA-DZONG,\nBELONGING TO OUR ESCORT.]\n\n[Illustration: 346. ARMED TIBETAN FROM THE COUNTRY BETWEEN THE\nTERI-NAM-TSO AND THE DANGRA-YUM-TSO.]\n\n[Illustration: 347. BOY WITH SMALL GUN ON THE SOUTHERN SHORE OF THE\nTERI-NAM-TSO.]\n\nThe illustrious gentlemen were much amused with my costume. \"You are\na Sahib,\" they said; \"you were for six weeks the guest of the Tashi\nLama; you employ one caravan after another, and leave a quantity of\nmoney behind you, and yet are dressed more shabbily than any of your\nservants.\"\n\nAt night their horses and mules were driven to the station-house by\nsoldiers, and we ought to have taken the same precaution, for our horses\nwere attacked by wolves. The brown horse we had bought two weeks before\nfor 100 rupees had his two right feet tied together lest he should run\naway, and the wolves directed their attack on him, as he could not\nescape, ate him up, and took the head off with them. At any rate it was\nmissing in the morning from the skeleton, which was pretty closely\nstripped.\n\nOn April 29 we rode together on the road down the Semoku valley, which\nruns to the upper Brahmaputra (Illust. 335). This we left on the left\nhand, as well as the _tasam_, and ascended a valley where the little\nvillage of Ushy with its stone huts and barley fields is situated. The\n150 inhabitants are at home only at seedtime and harvest; the rest of\nthe year they are away, tending their sheep. Thence we proceeded the\nfollowing day to the pass Ushy-la. The way is marked by a succession of\n_mani_ heaps and _chhortens_, and the pass by rods so thin as to be\ninvisible at a distance, and the streamers they carry look like a flock\nof tied birds. A little farther to the north-west we crossed the pass\nGye-la, where Chomo-uchong makes a fine display, and soon after we were\non the main pass of the same name (16,135 feet). From a hill near, the\neye can sweep over all the horizon, the peaks and glaciers of the\nHimalayas, Chomo-uchong, and close at hand to the south-south-east the\nBrahmaputra valley with the river meandering in several arms. We\nencamped on the bank of the Sachu-tsangpo, which flows into the\nChaktak-tsangpo west of Saka-dzong. Here also lies a votive block of a\nhard green rock, covered with offerings, bits of butter, and streamers.\n\nThe 1st of May was celebrated by a march over the Lamlung-la, a\ndifficult pass, on the saddle of which, 16,791 feet high, the traveller\nis again rewarded by a magnificent view over this complicated sea of\nmountains. From here Chomo-uchong's seven summits appear in a compact\ngroup; the central one is of a regular conical shape and is pure white\nall over; the others consist chiefly of black cliffs and projections,\nfrom among which issue small blue-tinged glaciers. The length of the\nmassive corresponds to that of Lunpo-gangri, of which it is a\ncontinuation.\n\nIn the Namchen valley our united camp formed quite a little village, for\nall the chiefs of the country were convened to a consultation. And here\nit was that Rindor and Pemba Tsering joined us with all the goods we had\nordered from Saka-dzong. We stayed here two days. The weather was raw\nand chilly, and the temperature constantly fell to 8.2\u00b0. There was no\nspring as yet. But the wild-geese were on their migration, and when\nTubges once shot a gander at a neighbouring brook, Oang Gye came to\ncomplain to me. He was quite overcome at this brutal murder, and could\nnot conceive how my servant could be so heartless and cruel.\n\n\"You are right,\" I answered; \"I am myself sorry for the wild-geese. But\nyou must remember that we are travellers, and dependent for our\nlivelihood on what the country yields. Often the chase and fishing are\nour only resources.\"\n\n\"In this district you have plenty of sheep.\"\n\n\"Is it not just as wrong to kill sheep and eat their flesh?\"\n\n\"No!\" he exclaimed, with passionate decision; \"that is quite another\nmatter. You surely will not compare sheep to wild-geese. There is as\nmuch difference between them as between sheep and human beings. For,\nlike human beings, the wild-geese marry and have families. And if you\nsever such a union by a thoughtless shot, you cause sorrow and misery.\nThe goose which has just been bereaved of her mate will seek him\nfruitlessly by day and night, and will never leave the place where he\nhas been murdered. Her life will be empty and forlorn, and she will\nnever enter upon a new union, but will remain a widow, and will soon\ndie of grief. A woman cannot mourn more deeply than she will, and the\nman who has caused such sorrow draws down a punishment on himself.\"\n\nThe excellent Oang Gye was quite inconsolable. We might shoot antelopes,\nwild sheep, and partridges as much as ever, if only we left the\nwild-geese in peace. I had heard in the Lob country similar tales of the\nsorrow of the swans when their union was dissolved by death. It was\nmoving to witness Oang Gye's tenderness and great sympathy for the\nwild-geese, and I felt the deepest respect for him. Many a noble and\nsensitive heart beats in the cold and desolate valleys of Tibet.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXIX\n\nKAMBA TSENAM, FATHER OF THE ROBBERS\n\n\nAt the Namchen camp we bought a large supply of rice, meal, barley and\n_tsamba_, sugar, stearin candles, soap, and five hundred\ncigarettes,--all procured from Tsongka. A rich merchant, Ngutu, who\nowned fifty horses and mules and two hundred yaks, sold us two mules and\na horse, besides cloth for new garments, boots, and caps. Abdul Kerim\nhastened to make me a Tibetan costume of fine Lhasa cloth; on my head I\nwore a Chinese silk cap swathed with a red turban; I stalked about in\nsilk Chinese boots, and had an elegant sword in my girdle. In my Ladaki\nsaddle with its variegated fittings, and riding a milk-white stallion, I\nlooked in this makeshift outfit quite like a Tibetan of rank (Illust.\n343).\n\n[Illustration: 348. TROOPER OF THE ESCORT. 349. TIBETAN OF TERI-NAM-TSO.\n350. YOUNG SHEPHERD OF BONGBA.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nHere a large meeting was held in Dorche Tsuen's tent, where the question\nof my return route was discussed. Dorche Tsuen insisted on the necessity\nof my crossing the Samye-la again, and I answered, as before, that I\nintended to take no other way than over a pass east of the Samye-la.\nThen he appealed to the nomads at hand, who no doubt had received their\ninstructions beforehand, and they all affirmed that the Chang-tang could\nbe reached by no other pass than the Samye-la. However, we had heard\nfrom the horse-driver on the Gebuk-la that a way led over the mountains\ndirectly north of Kamba Tsenam's tent. But then the nomads, who would\nhave to let us yaks on hire, replied that the road was so bad that we\ncould not reach the Tarok-tso in three months, and that, for their part,\nthey would not let their yaks go, and come to grief on the detritus\nof the pass. Then we offered to buy yaks, but found no one who would\nsell his animals. After Dorche Tsuen had informed me that those who\ntravelled from Saka into Bongba with hired yaks had to change both men\nand pack animals at Bupt\u00f6 on the upper Buptsang-tsangpo, I proposed to\ndivide my caravan into two sections, one of which, under Abdul Kerim,\nwould cross the Samye-la, while I with the other half marched over the\neastern pass; we would meet on the lower course of the Buptsang-tsangpo.\nNgutu, a genial old man of Mongolian origin, supported me, giving it as\nhis opinion that it was of no consequence which pass I crossed myself,\nprovided that the main part of the caravan went over the Samye-la; but\nDorche Tsuen was still obstinate, and tried to frighten me with a tale\nof ten well-armed robbers whose haunts were in the country north of the\nmountain I wished to pass over.\n\n\"If the country is unsafe,\" I returned, \"it is your duty to provide me\nwith an escort of ten soldiers.\"\n\n\"The soldiers belong to the garrison of Saka-dzong, and cannot be\nemployed elsewhere.\"\n\n\"Listen to me, Dorche Tsuen, and do not be so short-sighted. If you give\nme ten soldiers, you will be able to control my movements. I will pay\nthem 2 rupees a man per day for their services, that is, 20 rupees a day\naltogether. You can well believe that I cannot afford such a great\nexpense for a long time, and therefore you will have a guarantee that I\nshall not take a long roundabout way. When I have rejoined Abdul Kerim's\nparty I shall be beyond the limits of your province, and the escort can\nreturn.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" exclaimed two voices in the crowd; \"if he pays 20 rupees\na day, he cannot go far.\"\n\nDorche Tsuen rose and called some of the other men to a consultation\noutside the tent, and when he came back again he said that I might have\nmy wish, if I would sign a written declaration that I took upon myself\nall responsibility for the consequences, for he wished to be free from\nblame if any misfortune befell me. Of course I promised to sign such a\ndocument with pleasure.\n\nThus the matter was arranged. Nima Tashi (Illust. 353), a powerful man\nof pleasant aspect, and dressed in a loose sheepskin, was to be chief of\nthe bodyguard, and as he said he did not know the road to the north,\nPanchor (Illust. 332), a man fifty-five years of age, was ordered to act\nas guide. He was called into the tent. I had not seen him before, but\nAbdul Kerim said that he was the same man who on April 23 had shown us\nthe way to the foot of the Kinchen-la, and that he had seen me and\nMuhamed Isa last year in Saka-dzong. He was a little, thin, wiry man who\nhad killed eighty yaks with the gun he always carried. To everything\nthat was said to him he agreed submissively with \"La lasso, la lasso.\"\nWe could see that he was sly and knavish--just the stuff we wanted.\n\nWith him and all the other company we rode on May 4 over the pass\nGara-la, and from its rather flat threshold saw Kamba Tsenam's tent\nstill in the same place. Here we crossed, then, our route of April 22,\nand had made a loop round the snowy massive Chomo-uchong.\n\nPanchor was the elder brother of Kamba Tsenam, and it struck me as\ncurious that when the Governor of Saka pitched his tent beside that of\nthe wealthy nomad, the latter did not come out to welcome him. Now a\ncollection of tents had sprung up in the valley larger than at any of\nthe foregoing camps. Couriers and messengers came and went, small yak\ncaravans came up to the tents with provisions for the officials, and\nnomads had come in from the neighbourhood to have a look at the\neccentric European who had come down like a bomb into the country and\nhad been caught at last.\n\n[Illustration: 351. GUESTS AT THE OPENING OF MY TENT ON THE BANK OF THE\nTERI-NAM-TSO.\n\n (Over the opening a plaid is stretched as a protection against the\n sun.)]\n\n[Illustration: 352. THE YAKS FORDING THE RIVER SOMA-TSANGPO.]\n\nLate in the evening Kamba Tsenam came sneaking into my tent. He was very\nmysterious, and said that the Governor and his people had no notion that\nhe was paying me a visit in the darkness. He wished only to say that\nPanchor could very well contrive that I should go almost anywhere I\nliked. The escort had strict orders from the authorities, but only\nPanchor knew the way, and could easily throw dust into the eyes of the\nother men. I had only to make my wishes known to Panchor and he would\nmanage the rest. If also a band of fifty robbers swept down on us\nlike a whirlwind, they would disperse like sheep as soon as they knew\nthat Panchor with his never-failing gun was with us. Kamba Tsenam thus\nrevealed himself as a cunning rogue, who had not the slightest respect\nfor the authorities of Saka. The old fool promised that I should travel\nby the roads I wished if, in return, I would contrive that he should be\ngovernor of Saka. What he said was only idle talk, and he himself was a\nfellow to be on our guard against. There was not a man in Bongba who had\never heard of him, and his great power existed only in his own\nimagination. In his own village he was known and flattered on account of\nhis great wealth, and he boasted that no robber dared to touch his\nflocks, for he was their trusted friend. \"I am the father of all the\nrobbers,\" he said modestly.\n\nI willingly accepted his invitation to visit his tent next morning. When\nI had passed it the first time it was in a snowstorm, and I had looked\nupon it as a serious menace to my plans and my freedom. Almost like a\nthief in the night, expecting to be discovered every moment, I had\nstolen past the black nomad dwelling. Now I approached it as an honoured\nguest, only barked at by dogs.\n\nThe huge tent, made of a number of pieces of material, is supported by\nthree veritable masts, firmly fixed in the ground. A stone wall runs\nalong the inner side, and in front of it are heaps of _tsamba_, rice,\nand corn sacks. Baskets and boxes stand full of clothing. The altar, a\nwooden shelf and a table are laden with _gaos_, images, votive bowls,\npraying mills, and holy books. In one corner stand perhaps a dozen guns\nwith streamers on their rests, and in another as many swords. On the\nhearth, built on the left of the entrance, always stands a large\ntea-kettle boiling, ready for any guests that may come in. A battery of\nwooden cups stands on a stone slab ready for use. The bluish grey smoke\nrises up towards the chimney opening. Far away from the entrance, at the\nright corner, the master of the house has his seat of honour, a small\ndivan with a stool table before it, and before this again a fireplace,\nlike a hollow cracked cannon-ball, filled with reeking dung embers.\nSome of Kamba Tsenam's shepherds are sitting in a group drinking tea, in\nanother part some small black children are playing, and in a third the\nwomen of the tent are tittering. With pure white short hair, wrinkled\nlike crushed parchment, stone-blind, and dressed like Monna Vanna only\nin a cloak, Kamba Tsenam's eighty-three-year-old mother sits on her bed\nand swings her prayer-mill with the right hand, while her left hand\nkeeps the beads of her rosary in constant motion. She prattles and\nmurmurs prayers, sometimes drops her rosary to catch a troublesome\ninsect, and sometimes lets the prayer-mill stop when she is plunged in\nvague dreamy thought. Twice she asked if the European were still there\nand if he had been offered tea and food.\n\nMay 5, the last day we enjoyed Dorche Tsuen's society, had to be\ncelebrated in some way. I invited the whole party to a festival in the\ncamp. The two Governors and Oang Gye took their places in my tent, in\nthe middle of which our tea-cups were filled on an improvised table. The\nday had been cold and muggy and snow fell, but we warmed our hands over\nthe fire, and sat wrapped in skin coats like four Tibetans of rank,\nwhile the populace formed a circle outside. A fire was lighted in the\nmiddle and was maintained by dung from four sacks. It was pitch dark\noutside, but yellow flames threw a bright gleam over the dark Tibetans,\nservants, herdsmen, nomads and soldiers, women and children, youths and\nold men. They stood in wondering groups in their skin coats blackened by\nthe smoke of fires, bare-headed, with long black tresses hanging over\ntheir shoulders. The light from the fire made a vain attempt to gild\nthem. They stood out in sharp effective relief against the deep shadows\n(Illust. 336).\n\n[Illustration: 353. Nima Tashi, Commandor of the Government-Escort on\nthe way to the Teri-nam-tso.]\n\n[Illustration: 354. Nuns of Mendong.]\n\n[Illustration: 355. A high Lama of Chokchu.]\n\n[Illustration: 356. The Prior of Selipuk.\n\n Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]\n\nI charged Abdul Kerim to do his very best, and he informed me that the\nprogramme would contain fifteen items, song and dance following\nalternately without a pause. The first item was a dance with sticks to\nrepresent swords; the second, a hunting episode: a wild animal, composed\nof two crouching men with a piece of felt over them and two sticks for\nhorns, went prancing round the fire; a hunter with his gun crept about,\ntook aim at the monster, killed him with a single shot, and performed\nwith his friends a triumphal dance around the carcase. Then followed a\nLadaki dance, little Gulam leading the troop, and after that Suen\nexecuted his remarkable dance before a lady, represented by a stick he\nheld before him. All the others kept time by clapping their hands, and\ninvited the Tibetans to join in, and my guests in the tent were\nconvulsed with laughter.\n\nThe Mohammedans executed a Yarkand dance with Kutus as leader. They\ndanced round the fire, swinging their arms and skirts, and between the\nfire and the tent they appeared only as black profiles, while on the\nother side they were lighted up by the reddish-yellow flames, and their\nperspiring faces shone like bronze. A song followed, waking a sonorous\necho in the mountains, and the Tibetans recognizing the air joined in,\nand all the while the men clapped their hands. The smoke from the fire\ntook part in the dances and sometimes flew right in the faces of the\nspectators, the singing became louder, the merriment more uncontrolled,\nand the nomads laughed till they had to support themselves with their\nhands on their knees, as Suen revolved in grotesque pirouettes over the\narena and the nomads tried to imitate him. The clumsy Abdullah performed\nan indescribable dance with his back bent back, and when he bent himself\nso much that he fell backwards to the edge of the fire, the delight of\nthe spectators was unbounded: they laughed till they were breathless,\nhopped about and uttered wild yells, while the performer shook the\nsparks from his coat and retired to his corner (Illusts. 337, 338, 339,\n340). The Tibetans evidently enjoyed themselves; perhaps they had never\nhad such an amusing evening in their lives. Dorche Tsuen said something\nof the sort. Ngavang gave way to his kindly laugh, and Oang Gye enjoyed\nthe unwonted spectacle like a child. For my part, I dreamed awhile and\nthought of the unexpected and singular manner in which fate had allowed\nme to choose my course. Through the clouds of smoke I seemed to see all\nold Asia before me, and the adventures of past years behind me. A\ncarnival of old camp-scenes danced before my mind's eye, expiring like\nshooting-stars in the night--merry songs which came to an end among\nother mountains and the dying sound of strings and flutes. And I was\nsurprised that I had not had enough of these things and that I was not\ntired of the light of camp-fires.\n\nThe wind rises, the snow falls thickly and hisses in the fire, and the\nflakes are lighted up from below. With white hair and shoulders the\nTibetans look like mist figures, and behind them hang the dark curtains\nof night, from which is heard from time to time a pony's neigh or a\ndog's bark. The last sack of fuel is emptied over the leaping flames,\nburns up and sinks, and only embers are left, glowing in the ceaselessly\nfalling snow. Then my grateful guests rise at midnight, distribute gifts\nto the performers, say farewell, and vanish like ghosts in the darkness\nto seek their own tents. Now night reigns alone over the valley, the\nsurroundings lie silent and still, and only the pelting snow makes a\nswishing sound against the tent.\n\nOn the morning of May 6 the country was again white as in the depth of\nwinter. Quietly and lightly as cotton-wool the flakes fell, and all, the\nTibetans included, were more wrapped up than usual. The Governors and\ntheir retinue came to pay a farewell visit, and then I went out with\nthem to their horses, took a last farewell, and thanked them for all the\nkindness they had shown me in spite of the trouble I had given them.\nDorche Tsuen expressed a hope that we should meet again. It is much\neasier to get on with men and lead them where you wish if you treat them\nkindly and gently; you gain nothing by violence, harshness, and threats.\nThe Governor was a fine upright figure on his horse; his face was\nentirely covered with dark spectacles and a red hood to protect it from\nthe blast (Illust. 342). His troop of mounted men was considerably\ndiminished after his escort had been told off to follow me. They struck\ntheir heels into their horses and soon disappeared up the hill on the\nway to the Gara-la.\n\n[Illustration: 357. TWO LAMAS OF MENDONG.]\n\n[Illustration: 358. MY SHEEP CROSSING THE RIVER SOMA-TSANGPO.]\n\nMy caravan was now to be divided into two parties. Only five men were to\nfollow me, namely, Gulam, Lobsang, Kutus, Tubges, and Kunchuk. We had\neight goats to supply milk; our old sheep had been sold for a mere\ntrifle. A hundred rupees for the first five days were paid in advance to\nthe escort under Nima Tashi. No agreement was made with Panchor, but he\nwas to be paid well if he took me where I wished. The other seven\nLadakis were ordered to proceed under the command of Abdul Kerim over\nthe Samye-la to the Buptsang-tsangpo, follow the stream slowly\ndownwards, and wait for us near its mouth in the Tarok-tso. Whatever\nthey did, they were not to leave the Buptsang-tsangpo, or we might lose\none another. Rindor and Pemba Tsering were deputed to follow them over\nthe Samye-la to Bupt\u00f6, to bring the Kebyang people to reason if they\nrefused transport animals. My baggage was reduced to a minimum, and I\ntook with me only a thousand rupees. Abdul Kerim was responsible for the\nremainder of the cash. He was an honest man, but a noodle. Some nomads\naccompanied us with six yaks for the baggage (Illusts. 344, 345, 348).\n\nThough, according to our plans, we were to be separated only a few\nweeks, the parting was touching, and many childish tears trickled down\nweather-beaten cheeks. We had bought more horses, and all my five\nLadakis could ride. We rode up the valley in close order; the bottom was\nfull of loose rotten ice, lumpy tufts of grass with mice-holes among\nthem, frozen springs, and detritus of hard green schist. We marched\nnorth-eastwards, and then due west, over the small double pass\nShalung-la, and down to the Gyegong valley, where we encamped at Kamba\nTsenam's sheepfolds to buy some sheep for food. The escort had got there\nfirst, and sat in their black tent drinking tea.\n\nWe sat talking with Kamba Tsenam and Panchor when a tall and strongly\nbuilt young fellow came and sat down at the opening of my tent.\n\n\"I have seen the Bombo before,\" he said, \"in the neighbourhood of\nNakchu. You had a Buryat and a lama with you. That is seven years ago.\"\n\n\"Quite right. Have you brought me a message?\"\n\n\"No; I only wish to ask if you are disposed to buy two good yaks from\nme. You can have them for half their value.\"\n\n\"Thanks; we do not want any yaks now. What is your occupation?\"\n\n\"Robber!\" he answered, without blinking.\n\nAfter he had gone, Kamba Tsenam informed me that some time ago the man\nhad killed a nomad in Rukyok, and now was come to treat about the\ncompensation for the murder. The authorities were looking eagerly for\nthe band to which he belonged, and Kamba Tsenam and Panchor knew exactly\nwhere they were hiding, but would not betray them lest they should be\nrobbed of their property in revenge. Kamba Tsenam and his brother were\nevidently on very confidential terms with the robbers of the country,\nand I very much suspected that they were in league with some of them. In\nPanchor we had certainly an actual robber chief as guide. He himself\ntold us that the Devashung had tried to engage him in their service as a\nspy and guide, when they wished to track up an evaded robber band, but\nhe would not consent. He knew that we had a large quantity of money with\nus, and we were not too safe in his company. He could very well arrange\na night attack and in the end play the innocent. He pretended not to\nknow the country beyond a couple of days' journey to the north, but when\nhe inspected our six horses he said: \"This one you bought from an old\nnomad to the west of Sha-kangsham, and this one from Tsongpun Tashi.\" If\nhe knew every horse in the country, he must also know the country very\nwell. I asked him to go over the names of our camping-places to the\nnorth, but he gave only the first two, and added: \"The rest you will\nknow as you go on, and if I cannot find them myself, there will always\nbe some robbers I can ask.\"\n\nOn May 7 we took leave of the old robber chief Kamba Tsenam, and rode in\nclose order up to the pass Gyegong-la, which has a height of 18,012\nfeet. The pass stands on a distinctly marked chain, which is called\nKanchung-gangri, and it was very interesting to find that all the water\non the northern side of the pass flowed to the upper Chaktak-tsangpo.\nKanchung-gangri is therefore not part of the main range of the\nTrans-Himalaya, and the Gyegong-la is only a secondary pass. The great\nwatershed lay some days' journey farther to the north.\n\nOn the northern side we passed a warm spring, Memo-chutsen, which at the\norifice had a temperature of 93.6\u00b0, while in another the water boiled\nand steamed. The springs are surrounded by sinter, terraces, and basins\nin which sick people bathe.\n\nPanchor had an old field-glass and diligently looked out for robbers and\nwild yaks. He said that we ought always to keep together in case we were\nattacked by robbers he did not know, and he bade us help with our\nweapons in the defence.\n\nThe camp this day was No. 400.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXX\n\nTHE SEVENTH CROSSING OF THE TRANS-HIMALAYA--TO THE HEAVENLY LAKE OF THE\nTHRONE MOUNTAIN\n\n\nTwenty-nine degrees of frost on the night of May 8. Winter instead of\nspring might be coming. A month ago it was much warmer in Bongba. But\nnow we are mounting up to the heights of the Trans-Himalaya, the weather\nis cold, raw, and windy, the temperature seldom above freezing-point,\nand to-day the whole country is again buried in snow.\n\n[Illustration: 359. Village below Lunkar-gompa on the Tarok-tso.]\n\n[Illustration: 360. Mendong Monastery west of the Teri-nam-tso.]\n\n[Illustration: 361. Selipuk Monastery south-west of the Nganglaring-tso.\n\n Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]\n\n[Illustration: 362. Holiday Costumes and Ornaments of Tibetan Women of\nKyangrang in the Trans-Himalaya.\n\n Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]\n\nWe ride northwards and descend from a small saddle to the\nChaktak-tsangpo, near which we have to halt a while to warm ourselves at\na fire. The river bends to the west-south-west to break through\nKanchung-gangri. On its bank is seen a tent, eight horses, and a hundred\nsheep. Panchor went off to-day to stalk a herd of ninety wild yaks, and\nNima Tashi, the captain of the bodyguard, was sure that a robber band\nwas in the tent, for no nomads are seen in this cold country. The\nescort, particularly Nima Tashi, were dreadfully afraid of robbers; and\nPanchor had told us that we could make them go anywhere by frightening\nthe soldiers with robbers. When Panchor appeared again, he said that the\nsuspected tent was really inhabited by the band which had the murder in\nRukyok on its conscience, and he added that if the people in Rukyok\nwould not let the matter rest, the band threatened to commit new crimes\nin the country. I asked why the authorities did not seize the chief now\nwhen he was so near, but Panchor shook his head and said that if he was\ntaken and killed, thirty others would be down on the country, and that\nwould be worse. A bandit's life in Tibet is on the whole a very\npleasant one.\n\nFollowing the stream upwards we came to the small lake Lapchung-tso,\nentirely covered with ice, and set up camp 401 (17,037 feet) on its\neastern shore. It is enclosed among hills and surrounded on all sides by\nlofty mountains. To the south Kanchung-gangri appears in all its\nsplendour. The snow is much more abundant on its northern than on its\nsouthern side, and in the hollows between its summits three large and\nseveral small glaciers, short and steep, are seen. From all the valleys\non the north, north-west, and north-east brooks descend to the\nLapchung-tso, and from the southern extremity of the lake the\nChaktak-tsangpo issues, and a little distance farther south-west breaks\nthrough Kanchung-gangri.\n\nMay 9. -0.9\u00b0 at this time of year! We move north-eastwards along the\neastern shore of Lapchung-tso, and follow a well-beaten road consisting\nof quite fifty parallel paths. It is very interesting to draw another\nline on the map of Tibet through a part unknown before. Here travel the\nmerchants whose destination is east Bongba and Chokchu, and here passes\na large part of the salt traffic from Tabie-tsaka, as well as pilgrims\non their way home from Kang-rinpoche. The last usually follow the\n_tasam_ on their outward journey, but return by the northern route--this\nis, that the whole pilgrimage may make a _kore_ or a loop of salvation.\n\nOur direction becomes now more northerly and we go up the Sangmo-bertik\nvalley, where the bottom is filled with ice clear as glass, but there is\ngood pasturage on the flanks. The country is quite flat between\nKanchung-gangri and the main crest of the Trans-Himalaya. In the\nlongitudinal valley between the two we see to the north, 60\u00b0 W., the\ncomparatively low saddle Dicha-la, which is, however, a watershed of the\nfirst rank, for it parts the water flowing to the ocean from the\nisolated drainage of the plateau. Over the Dicha-la runs the lately\nmentioned road to the Buptsang-tsangpo and Tabie-tsaka. North,\nnorth-west, and north-east are several _gangris_ with firn-fields and\nsnow, all belonging to the main range of the Trans-Himalaya. To the\neast lies a pass, the Nakbo-kongdo-la, with the Nakbo-gongrong-gangri;\nover this pass, which also seems to lie on the main watershed, a road\nruns to Targo-gangri and Dangra-yum-tso. Between Raga-tasam and Ombo a\nroad crosses the Tsalam-nakta-la, mostly frequented by salt caravans.\nFrom camp 402 we could still see Chomo-uchong to the south, 13\u00b0 E.\n\nA member of the robber band we saw the day before paid us a visit and\nwas evidently an old friend of Panchor. He gave us many interesting\ndetails of the Teri-nam-tso and Mendong-gompa, which were afterwards\nfound to be perfectly correct. I never could make out Panchor. Either he\nwas in league with the devil himself, or he was a fully fledged knave at\nhis own risk and reckoning. He now assured me that it would be the\neasiest thing in the world to take me to the Teri-nam-tso and perhaps\nalso to the Dangra-yum-tso. O gods of Naktsang, slumber in this cold\nspring and do not warn your earthly vassals until it is too late! Yes,\nif I could only contrive to cross the Trans-Himalaya twice more, I would\nthen willingly leave this mighty range to rest a thousand years under a\nveil of clouds and glittering snowfields. It is strange that this wide\ncountry, so near to the Indian frontier, should have remained absolutely\nunknown till our late times. I am proud and delighted to know that I am\nthe first white man to penetrate to this wilderness.\n\nPanchor advised us to stay a day in the valley, for we should not find\npasture as good as here for a long time. I wondered how he could know\nthat, seeing that he had said recently that he had never been north of\nthe Sangmo-bertik-la.\n\nOn the night of May 11 the thermometer fell to 3\u00b0. We found ourselves in\na great enlargement of the Trans-Himalaya called Lap, and this region is\nnoted for its severe climate. Even in the middle of summer, when it is\nwarm everywhere else, it is cold in Lap. The ice breaks up on\nLapchung-tso only in the beginning of June after all the other ice is\nmelted. From the map it is seen that many considerable rivers, flowing\nnorth and south, take their rise in this lofty swell.\n\n[Illustration: 363. CROSSING THE KANGSHAM RIVER.]\n\nThe day's march took us up to higher ground, and the way was\ndreadful--not a road at all, but a track winding among granite boulders\nand yak-moss. And next day it was still worse. In raw wintry weather,\nwith a temperature of 1.2\u00b0, we wound up the ascent extremely slowly,\nwhere all small and loose material had been removed, so that the animals\nmight at any moment break their legs among the stones. Here no other\nvegetation was seen but a moss, yellow as the yolk of an egg, and\nanother shading into red. On the left we passed three small glaciers\nwith a blue tinge on their fronts. By one of them some wild yaks walked\nmeditatively. The weather was so cold that we had to stop frequently to\nwarm our hands at a small dung fire. Panchor insisted strongly on these\nhalts \"in order that the Bombo may not be tired\"; but I suspect it was\nchiefly because he wanted a puff from his Chinese _gansa_.\n\nThough it was a great struggle for our horses, we came at last to the\nSangmo-bertik-la, at the giddy height of 19,094 feet, and now I stood\nfor the seventh time on the main crest of the Trans-Himalaya and the\nwatershed of the great Indian rivers. The view was closed in on all\nsides and limited by adjacent heights. On a sharp ridge to the\nnorth-west seven yaks were tramping in the snow. Panchor and one of the\nsoldiers went on foot in pursuit of them--to mount these steep hills on\nfoot and carry heavy, clumsy guns is tough work. We rode on among the\ngranite boulders; lower down green porphyry begins. The gradient became\nmore gentle, and where we encamped we could scarcely perceive in which\ndirection the valley sloped.\n\nThe day had been stormy, and the blast continued on May 13. Little Puppy\nwent out to look at the morning, but crept back again and lay on his\nmat. Takkar was still irreconcilable towards his countrymen, the\nTibetans, and inspired the greatest respect in all the escort and\nPanchor. We rode on through the valley northwards, past numerous summer\ncamping-grounds, and recognized the characteristic low relief of\nChang-tang in contrast to the more deeply excavated valleys on the\nsouthern side of the Trans-Himalaya. At the mouth of a side-valley\nrunning in from the west the escort came to a halt, and Nima Tashi\nexplained that our road to Bupt\u00f6, where we had agreed to meet Abdul\nKerim's party, ran up this valley, and that they did not intend to go\nfarther north. They now showed their teeth for the first time, and were\nnot so pliant as we thought. They excused themselves on the ground that\ntheir yaks were tired, that their provisions were at an end, and that\nthey had no orders to accompany us more than fourteen days. Panchor, the\nscoundrel, took their part, and frightened us with the chief of\nBongba-chushar, who took tribute from all the robbers of the country,\nand would certainly plunder us if we passed through his domain. After\nlong consideration we decided to camp where we were, to thoroughly\ndiscuss the situation. Before the sun had set I had won them over,\nthough it was chiefly the chink of silver rupees which made them forget\nall their scruples. It was agreed that they should receive their 20\nrupees every evening, and I gave them a goat in addition, as their\nsupply of meat was at an end.\n\nSo on May 14 we rode farther north in blinding snow, and passed numerous\n_manis_, nine standing in one row. The valley became more open, and was\nmore than a mile broad. We found no water at the camp, but two of our\nyaks were laden with blocks of ice. Every evening we sat an hour\nconversing with Panchor, and it was easy to check his statements. I told\nhim once and for all, that if he did not speak the truth he would\nreceive no extra gratuity. In the evening he declared that there were\ndreadful apparitions at Muhamed Isa's grave, and that at night fearful\nshrieks and groans could be heard from beneath. He was quite convinced\nthat spirits and demons haunted the grave, and said that no Tibetan\nventured to go near the place; this was well, for consequently the grave\nwould not be desecrated.\n\n[Illustration: 364. THE VILLAGE OF LUNKAR.]\n\n[Illustration: 365. GROUP OF TIBETANS AT THE TERI-NAM-TSO.]\n\nHe gave me also much valuable information about the country round\nNam-tso or Tengri-nor, where he was born. He had gone twice round\nNam-tso, thrice round Tso-mavang, and twelve times round Kang-rinpoche,\nwhich he intended to visit again soon, to complete the thirteenth\ncircuit of salvation. He considered it superfluous to make the\ncircuit of Dangra-yum-tso and Targo-gangri, for he had already tramped\nso far that all his sins must be forgiven, and he was sure of promotion\nin the next incarnation. Panchor had not the slightest doubt that a man\nor horse which had drunk of the water of Tso-mavang or Nam-tso was for\never immune from illness, robbers, and wolves. \"It is just as though a\nfire blazed out of that part of the body where the wolf intends to seize\nhim,\" he affirmed. But he considerably modified his statements after I\nhad told him that we had a mule which had drunk for a whole month of the\nwater of Tso-mavang and yet had been torn in pieces by wolves at Gartok.\n\"Yes,\" he replied, \"the protection is only for Tibetans and their\nanimals, not for Europeans and their animals. And if the wolf itself\ndrank of the holy water it would avail nothing; he would still seize his\nprey.\"\n\nOn the 15th of May we set out again in a snowstorm, whereas I had been\nlooking forward ever since January to spring. It caused great merriment,\nboth among the Tibetans and the Ladakis, when one of the escort who did\nnot know Kunchuk's name, spoke of him as \"that there calf.\" We had\ntravelled a good long way before they ceased to laugh at the newly\ninvented title, which stuck to Kunchuk ever after.\n\nThe valley opens out on to a plain where kiangs, Goa and Pantholops\nantelopes are plentiful. From the ridge of a hill we see to the east\nanother still larger plain, beyond which Targo-gangri would be visible\nif the mountain were not shrouded in clouds and falling snow. Buchu-tso\nis a small pool which dries up in summer. There lay three black tents,\nand beyond another hill in the locality Kangmar, seven. When we\nencamped, sixty men, women, and children came out and watched us. They\nhad gathered together here to pay their taxes to a collector from Saka.\nThe district is called Bongba-chushar, and the elderly Gova came to\nvisit us. He was a discreet man and put no awkward questions. Panchor,\nwho was accustomed to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, had\nprobably given him an account of us beforehand. It seems he was\nterribly frightened, for he had never in his life seen a European.\nHowever, he gave us much valuable information about the country, among\nother things, that the little twin lakes Mun-tso lay to the north of the\nBarong-la and east of the Teri-nam-tso, not south of the Dangra-yum-tso\nas on Nain Sing's map, which I had myself found to be incorrect. On the\nway to the Teri-nam-tso we should be able in two places to steal goose\neggs; it was forbidden to the Tibetans for three years to take them, but\na European could permit himself anything without having to answer for it\nto the gods of heaven and earth.\n\nAfter a day's rest we marched north-north-east to the broad longitudinal\nvalley of Soma-tsangpo. The river descends from the east-south-east, and\nprobably has its source in the great mountain system we saw from the\nShuru-tso. Here it runs west-north-west, but afterwards turns north and\nnorth-eastwards, and therefore makes a sharp curve before it enters the\nTeri-nam-tso. Its bed is flat and shallow, and at the time carried down\nabout 280 cubic feet of water per second, but it is so full in summer\nthat sometimes it cannot be forded. We camped at a spring in a valley at\nthe farther side, and on May 18 ascended the adjacent pass, Dongchen-la,\nand on its south slopes twenty-four Ovis Ammon sheep were a fine sight.\n\nOn the night of the 19th, the minimum temperature was 29.5\u00b0, and now it\nfelt as if spring were really come, or even summer. The way ran\nnorth-west up a steep valley, where granite and dark schists were twice\nobserved _in situ_, to the small pass Teta-la (16,266 feet), where we\nhad at length a free view over the longed-for lake Teri-nam-tso, Nain\nSing's Tede-nam-tso, which he never visited nor saw, but only heard of,\nand inserted with a broken line quite correctly on his map. The only\nmistake he made was to draw the lake longer from north to south instead\nof from east to west.\n\nTo obtain an uninterrupted view we climbed up a height on the north side\nof the pass (16,972 feet). The scene here displayed in all directions\nwas one of the grandest and most memorable tableaus I have seen in\nTibet. The \"heavenly lake\" lay like a great flat-cut turquoise framed\nin mountains and hills shaded in pink, red, yellow, and purple, which,\ntowards the horizon, gradually passed into a light blue veil. Only to\nthe south-east quadrant is the view obstructed by adjacent heights\nbelonging to the chain on the crest of which we stand, and which runs\nalong the southern shore of the lake, but elsewhere the view is open,\ndizzy, boundless, and the eyes scan both Sha-kangsham's majestic peak\nand Targo-gangri's many-headed ridge, and the seven-times-mounted main\nrange of the Trans-Himalaya, with its snow-crowned heights rising in a\nrow of bright white domes to the south. Many other peaks and domes with\neternal snow rise over this sea of tumbled waves, but, after all, the\nfinest sight is the lake itself, which charms and fascinates the\nspectator by its intense ultramarine hue, a couple of shades deeper and\nstronger than turquoise. When one first comes to the saddle of the pass\nand this wealth of colouring strikes the retina, one can scarcely\nrestrain an exclamation of astonishment and admiration. We look down\nstraight on the lake, and its southern shore is just below us. To the\nwest it extends for two days' journey, and widens out enormously, while\nto the east it contracts and seems to stretch a good day's journey. Due\nnorth-east the blue surface is broken by a steep rocky islet, with a\nlevel shore only in the east, and further east one fancies one can\ndetect the hollow where the basin of the Dangra-yum-tso skirts the\nnorthern foot of the divine Targo-gangri mountain.\n\nBeautiful weather, not a cloud on the blue vault of heaven, calm and\nquiet, only the gentlest whisper over the hills sounding in the ears\nlike the tinkle of small bells and the vibration of strings. One feels\noverwhelmed by this grand beauty, which speaks more powerfully to the\nsenses than the high mass of any archbishop. I stood several hours up\nhere and made a hopeless attempt to sketch the landscape, but succeeded\nin producing only a feeble imitation of the reality. From the Teta-la\none commands a very considerable area of the heart of Tibet. How\nextensive is the line of Sha-kangsham! How many are the points from\nwhich I have viewed this wonderful mountain on different journeys! Like\na gigantic beacon, a marvellous landmark, it raises its snow-covered\ndome above desolate Tibet. And we were far from its dripping glaciers\nwhen for the last time it sank below the horizon like a dream of snow\nand roses.\n\nAt last we had to drag ourselves away and follow the track of the other\nmen to a little dreary valley where they had encamped near a couple of\ntents. Even here the view was remarkable. How I now missed my old tried\nboat, and how gladly I would have glided with sail and oar over the\nheavenly lake!\n\n[Illustration: 366. THE VILLAGE OF LUNKAR FROM THE TEMPLE HILL.]\n\n[Illustration: 367. THE SOUTHERN SHORE OF MANASAROWAR WITH GRAZING\nYAKS.]\n\nWe remained four whole days at this miserable camp with its fine view\n(15,646 feet). The fact was that Dangra-yum-tso now for the fourth time\nbegan to haunt my dreams, and as the holy lake was only four days'\njourney to the east, I would try to reach its shore. But Nima Tashi and\nPanchor put all kinds of difficulties in the way: their yaks would\nperish where there was no grazing, and it was impossible to hire yaks,\nfor all had lately gone to Tabie-tsaka for salt. I proposed to go on my\nown horses and meet them at Mendong-gompa after the excursion, and to\nthis they made no objection at first. If I had not been by this time\nheartily sick of Tibet, I would have played them a pretty trick, and\ngone not only to Dangra-yum-tso, but further eastwards until I was\nstopped. But I was weary of geography, discoveries, and adventures, and\nwanted to get home. And besides, on comparing the lands east and west of\nthe Teri-nam-tso, I considered the latter far better worth visiting. The\nformer I had traversed by three routes, and two other travellers had\nbeen there, but no one had been in the west, and we knew nothing about\nit except the uncertain data which the Jesuits had gathered from the\nnatives two hundred years ago. In fact this land was the least known\npart of Tibet, and the road to the Nganglaring-tso crosses the blank\npatch in its longer direction. If the authorities had asked me which way\nI would choose, I should have answered, the way to the Nganglaring-tso.\nIt would have been wisest to close at once with Nima Tashi's suggestion\nto go straight to Mendong-gompa. But their opposition egged me on to\nbreak another lance for Dangra-yum-tso. I ought to have remembered that\nhe who grasps at all loses all, for I was within an ace of losing\nMendong-gompa into the bargain.\n\nFor when Nima Tashi saw that he could not make me give way, he secretly\nsent a message to Tagla Tsering, the chief of Sangge-ngamo-buk, the\ndistrict we were in and which is subject to Naktsang. And Tagla Tsering\ncame. Last year he had been in Lundup's train when the latter had\nstopped us at the foot of Targo-gangri and prevented us from going to\nthe shore of the holy lake. Now he looked very grand and important. Over\na mantle of panther skin he wore a belt of six bright silver _gaos_, and\nin the belt was stuck a sword with a silver scabbard inlaid with\nturquoise and coral, and at his side rattled knives and other pendent\narticles. Over all, he wore a long reddish-violet mantle, and on his\nhead a Chinese silk cap. He was accompanied by six horsemen, and, the\nday after, twenty more arrived, all armed to the teeth with guns,\nswords, and lances; all in picturesque bright-coloured costumes, some\nwith tall brimmed hats on their heads, others with bandages round their\nforeheads, Tagla Tsering evidently took the matter seriously, and tried\nto get over me by talking of raising the militia (Illust. 329).\n\nThe powerful chief meanwhile entered my tent, friendly and pleased, and,\nlike an old friend, bade me heartily welcome, and expressed his great\nastonishment that I had come back again, though I had been forced the\nyear before to turn back. Had I not already brought about Hlaje\nTsering's fall, and would I cause the new Governor of Naktsang to meet\nthe same fate? Or what did I mean?\n\n\"No, Hedin Sahib, you cannot travel to Naktsang. Turn to the west. Nima\nTashi had no authority to lead you even to the Teri-nam-tso; it was on\nthe Buptsang-tsangpo you were to meet the caravan. You talk of\nMendong-gompa. You have no right to travel thither. There is a nearer\nway to the rendezvous. Mendong-gompa does not lie in my district, but\nall the same I have sent written notices to all the govas in the country\nto stop you if you travel to the monastery.\"\n\nPoor Nima Tashi was half dead with fright. He had thought to frighten\nme, but now he saw that the chief and I sat together like old friends,\ndrinking tea and smoking cigarettes, while he was reprimanded for\nbringing me too far. I told him afterwards that he was a noodle, and if\nhe now got into trouble in Saka it was his own fault. Tagla Tsering's\ngood humour was much enhanced when I promised to turn back and conform\nto the arrangements of the chiefs on the way to Mendong, if by any\nchance I was prevented from approaching the convent.\n\nWe said farewell on May 24, and continued our journey westwards along\nthe southern shore of the lake. The water is salt and has an extremely\nunpleasant taste, and cannot be drunk in any circumstances. Lamlung-la\n(16,880 feet) is a commanding pass, which must be crossed to cut off a\npeninsula. The rocks are granite and green schist. Hares and wild-geese\nare very plentiful. Here and there are freshwater lagoons on the shore,\nwhich forms a very narrow belt at the foot of the mountains. The\nnorthern shore belt seems to be much broader. We followed the southern\nshore another day to the spring Tertsi at the western extremity of the\nlake, which forms a large regular expansion.\n\nI heard the name of this lovely lake variously pronounced by different\nnomads. Nain Sing's Tede-nam-tso is incorrect. The Gova of Kangmar\ninsisted that Tsari-nam-tso was the correct pronunciation, and said that\nthe name was bestowed because _ri di tsa-la tso yore_, that is, \"The\nlake situated at the foot of the mountain.\" The nomads on the shore,\nhowever, said Tiri- or Teri-nam-tso. At our camp 411 were two small\nmountains on the shore, called Techen and Techung, or the Great and\nLittle Te, or more correctly Ti. _Ti_ is a lama's throne in a temple,\n_ri_ signifies mountain, _nam_ heaven, and _tso_ lake. The whole name\ntherefore has the poetical meaning of the Throne-mountain's Heavenly\nLake. Its height above sea-level is 15,367 feet, or 413 feet lower than\nMont Blanc, which, if it lifted up its head from the turquoise billows\nof the lake, would look like the small rocky islet in its eastern half.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXXI\n\nANOTHER JOURNEY ACROSS THE WHITE PATCH\n\n\nWe left on May 26 the heavenly lake, the shore of which had never before\nbeen trodden by European or pundit, and saw its blue surface diminish to\na sabre blade between the mountains, and finally disappear in the east,\nwhile we rode westwards over a wide plain, which was formerly under\nwater. Kutus, Lobsang, and Panchor accompanied me. We must hasten to\ndescend on the monastery before the monks got wind of us, and the\ncaravan and escort could come after and encamp near Mendong-gompa.\nPanchor disappeared at the first tent we passed, and was not seen again\nall day. He was a coward, and did not wish to be suspected of showing us\nthe way to the sanctuary. We had therefore to shift for ourselves and\nfind our way thither.\n\nTwo men and a woman came out of a nomad encampment to the track we\nfollowed, and asked if we had seen the European who was said to be\ntravelling about Bongba. In order to preserve my incognito till I came\nto Mendong, I answered that he was coming behind with his caravan, and\nif they kept on the look-out they would see an amusing figure. Probably\nthey had long given up all hope of seeing the stranger. My involuntary\ndisguise therefore did me good service, for the nomads took me to be,\nlike the other two men, servants of the expected European.\n\nHour after hour we rode on westwards and looked in vain for a monastery.\nBut at last it cropped up all of a sudden. We were on the top of a bank\nterrace 30 feet high, skirting on the east the channel of the\nSoma-tsangpo, and saw at the foot of the opposite terrace the\nquadrangular stone house of the monastery with its white walls and red\nfrieze, _chhortens_, _mani_ heaps, and streamers, and on the east and\nwest of it two tent villages, the upper inhabited by sixty monks, the\nlower by forty nuns (Illust. 360). The Soma-tsangpo, also called Nyagga,\nor Soma-Nyagga-tsangpo, now carried down 350 to 420 cubic feet of water,\nwhich, divided into four channels, glided over a treacherously deepening\nbottom. We managed, however, to ford it, and rode up to the gate of the\nmonastery, where ten monks, good-natured but reserved, met us. I have no\nspace to describe the religious organization of Mendong-gompa. It is\nenough to say that hitherto it was quite unknown even by name, like so\nmany of the convents we visited the year before. The peculiarity of this\nmonastery is that the brothers and sisters live in black tents, and\nevery tent is a cell. The tents had a very comfortable and attractive\nappearance, but the sisters, of whom I took some portraits, were hideous\nto behold--old unwashed harpies, barbarous and demoralized. That there\nis anything idyllic and fascinating in life in a nunnery in the wilds is\na pure illusion, which vanishes at once at the sight of these old apes.\nThey have also a puzzling resemblance to their male colleagues, and it\nis often difficult to decide whether one of them is a man or a woman\n(Illust. 354).\n\nWhen we left the solitary monastery on May 28 we decided to make for the\nrendezvous on the Buptsang-tsangpo, where Abdul Kerim would no doubt be\nuneasy at our prolonged absence. It had been arranged that we should be\nseparated only two weeks, but before we reached the river a whole month\nwould have passed away.\n\n[Illustration: 368. LUNKAR-GOMPA.]\n\n[Illustration: 369. SELIPUK-GOMPA.]\n\nSo we set out early, followed the right bank of the Soma-tsangpo\nsouthwards, and crossed the range, from the top of which, at the\nTeta-la, we had first seen the Teri-nam-tso. The valley is quite 2\u00bd\nmiles broad, the strand terraces are well developed, the fall is slight,\nand the rush of water is seldom heard; here and there stands a tent with\ngrazing flocks. One more sunrise and we ride through the river (Illust.\n358), which, with the Sachu-tsangpo, Buptsang-tsangpo, and\nBogtsang-tsangpo, shares the honour of being one of the largest in\nthe interior of Tibet. Through the valley Goa-lung we rode up on May 30\nto the pass Goa-la (17,382 feet), flat and easy, lying amidst pink and\ngrey granite, and affording an instructive view over the Trans-Himalaya\nto the south. To the south-west we see, close below the pass, the small\nlake Karong-tso--a new discovery, like everything else in this country.\nOur route ran to the west, when we, on June 1, rode, with the Karong-tso\non our left hand, and a crest of medium height on our right, through the\ndistrict Bongba-kemar, following the great route of the salt caravans\nbetween Raga-tasam and Tabie-tsaka, which crosses the already mentioned\npass Tsalam-nakta-la. A high-road from Naktsang joins this. At camp 417\nwe had the Chunit-tso near us on the north-west.\n\nAlthough we were at the beginning of June, the minimum sank below\nfreezing-point; in the night of the 1st the thermometer fell to 16.3\u00b0.\nBut the day was warm, nay hot, when the sun shone and the air was still.\nThe dreary barren valleys lay waiting for the rainy season. The grass\nwas more than scanty, for last summer the rains failed. Our direction\nturned more to the south-west. From camp 418 we saw, to the south, 60\u00b0\nE., the opening of a valley through which a highway runs through\nBongba-kyangrang over the Dicha-la to Lapchung.\n\nOur Tibetans know excellently well how to look after themselves on the\njourney. On the march they twist string, talk, sing and whistle, and\nshout at their yaks. In pitching their camp they set up their black tent\nin a moment, first stretching out the ropes and fastening them into the\nground with wooden pegs, and then throwing the cloth over the poles. The\nanimals are unloaded and sent off to feed, and the men gather fuel and\nmake a fire in the tent, where all assemble to drink tea and sleep.\nAfter a couple of hours they come out again, wrestle, play and laugh. In\nthe dusk one may be heard singing a monotonous ballad, which must,\nhowever, be amusing, for the others laugh heartily at every verse.\nMorning and evening they gabble their prayers, all together, murmuring\nlike bees in a hive. An old man, whom I knew the year before, has a\nriding yak of his own, and brandishes the escort's prayer-mill. He is\nnever seen without this ingenious instrument. The men are always\ngood-natured and polite, help us to collect fuel, set up the tents and\nload the animals, and frequently pay us a visit. We know them all by\nname and are the best of friends.\n\nThe temperature sank in the night only a few degrees below\nfreezing-point, and yet a snowstorm raged almost all day long on June 3.\nWe rode past a large marsh in the valley and up to the flat saddle\nMerke-sang, with a view over the plain we crossed exactly two months\nbefore on the way to the Buptsang-tsangpo. Camp 419 lay therefore in the\nBongba-kebyang district again. To the south-east is the pass Chiptu-la,\nwith the pilgrim route from Nakchu to Kang-rinpoche. To the south, 27\u00b0\nW., rises a snowy summit, at the foot of which a road leads over the\nDsalung-la to Tradum. As a watershed this pass is of the first rank, and\nit sends off a voluminous tributary to the Buptsang-tsangpo. The escort\nsent off a messenger in advance to this river to look out for Abdul\nKerim's party.\n\nJune 4. It had snowed all night long, and we set out in the wildest\nsnowstorm. It was half dark, with heavy leaden clouds; not a glimpse\ncould be seen of the surrounding mountains; all was wet, muddy, and\nevil-smelling; pools of melting snow lay on the ground, and seven\npilgrims from Kang-rinpoche were close upon us before they emerged from\nthe mist. We splashed through the soaked soil, but when we encamped on\nthe shore of the Buptsang-tsangpo the weather was much clearer.\n\nBefore I proceed further I will mention that the great province of\nBongba is divided into twelve _tso_ or districts, namely: Parryang,\nLaktsang, Bupt\u00f6, Tsaruk, Yeke, Tarok, Kebyang, Kemar, Parma, Changma,\nKyangrang, and Chushar. To each of these district names is usually\nprefixed the name of the province, as, for instance, Bongba-parryang,\nBongba-laktsang, etc. We were now in Bongba-kebyang.\n\n[Illustration: 370. THE TRANS-HIMALAYA FROM ABUK-LA. (The three parts in\nthe illustration form a continuous panorama from East to S.S.W.)]\n\n[Illustration: 371. STORM OVER THE TRANS-HIMALAYA. (To the left the way\nup to Samye-la; valley of Buptsang-tsangpo.)\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nSome tents stood on the river bank. The nomads reported that Abdul Kerim\nhad gone a week before by a cross-cut over the mountain on the right,\ndown towards the Tarok-tso. There was no Gova here, but two natives\nwere ready to let us on hire the five yaks we required. They were shy\nand timorous, but Panchor, the rogue, spoke well of us, and it was\nagreed that they should accompany us to the boundary of Tarok-tso. On\nthe morning of June 5 we took farewell of Nima Tashi and his soldiers\nand of Panchor, and rode between the hills on the left side of the\nvalley down the course of the Buptsang-tsangpo. Soon the valley\ncontracted to a ditch, but before long expanded again. On our left hand\nwe had the main range of the Trans-Himalaya, which, however, did not\npresent an imposing appearance, for we were always close to its foot. At\ntimes we were enveloped in a snowstorm, and at Mabie-tangsam-angmo,\nwhere we camped, we made haste to get a cover over our heads. When\nLittle Puppy heard the thunder rumble for the first time in his life, he\nwas very disturbed and barked with all his might, but he could not make\nout whence the noise came, and he found it safest to fly into the tent\nand hide himself behind my bed-head.\n\nJune 6. Hail and snow! The whole country is hidden under newly-fallen\nsnow, as far as we can see. Is June to be reckoned among the winter\nmonths? We have already had nine of them. It seems as though summer were\nmissed out this year and we were approaching another winter. But the\nprecipitation is welcome to the nomads, for it promotes the growth of\nfresh grass. We march sometimes on the top, sometimes at the foot of a\nlofty erosion terrace 80 to 100 feet high, which is a characteristic\nfeature in this large valley. Geese, wild asses, Goa antelopes, and\nfoxes are everywhere. A sharp bend in the river forces us to the\nnorth-north-east for a time, and the valley is again narrow and\npicturesque. At Tuta, which belongs to Bongba-tsaruk, we encamp close by\nthe Buptsang-tsangpo, where the wild-geese swim with their yellow chicks\nin the clear water.\n\nEighteen degrees of frost on the night of June 7. Yet the day was fine,\nand flies, gnats, and other insects were more numerous than before. As\non the two preceding days we crossed several small affluents from the\nTrans-Himalaya. The Buptsang valley expanded more and more, and at\nlength became 13 miles broad. We encamped in sight of the Tarok-tso, on\na level plain about 16 feet above the surface of the lake, and with two\nnomad tents as our nearest neighbours. The height here was 15,197 feet.\n\nOur guides were the pleasantest and most complacent we had ever had, our\nmovements were not controlled by chiefs and soldiers, and Karma Puntso's\ncamp was far away--we might have travelled wherever we liked. But the\nBuptsang-tsangpo and the Tarok-tso were the most interesting\ngeographical features in Bongba, and now we saw the lake close in front\nof us.\n\nOur plan was to make on June 8 for Lunkar-gompa, which was seen perched\non its hill with a view over the lake. But it was not to be, for at six\no'clock Gova Pensa arrived on horseback accompanied by two servants. He\nwas dressed in a handsome blue cloak, looked about fifty-five years old,\nand greeted us in a kind and friendly manner. After a while came half a\ndozen more horsemen--evidently we were held up again. Gova Pensa asked\nus to remain where we were for the day, for Gova Parvang, the district\nchief of Tarok-shung, would come in the afternoon. He said it was\nimpossible to see Lunkar-gompa, for both the head lamas, with most of\nthe other twenty monks, were gone two days before to Kang-rinpoche, and\nhad left the temple gates locked. Only four nuns and two monks had been\nleft behind. Of Abdul Kerim's party he only knew that they had met Gova\nParvang, but did not know where they were now.\n\nGova Parvang did not put in an appearance, but sent instead his\nlieutenant, old Yamba, and seventeen other unarmed men to my tent. Yamba\nhad orders not to let us go to Tabie-tsaka if he valued his head. But he\nadded that if we went there of our own accord and with our own horses he\ncould not stop us, but yaks and provisions would not be supplied, and\nthe nomads had orders to avoid us like the plague. Would we, on the\nother hand, go up a valley which opened out to the south-south-west by\nwhich we could reach Tuksum in seven days over the Lungnak-la, he would\nlet us hire yaks, would sell us provisions, and provide us with guides.\nOr if we would go over the Lunkar-la north-westwards to Selipuk, he\nwould also do his best to serve us. He advised us to take the latter\nroute, for he had been present when Gova Parvang forced Abdul Kerim to\ntake the direct road to Selipuk between the Tarok-tso and Tabie-tsaka.\nWe had, then, three different routes to choose from, which led over the\nblank space on the map of Tibet, where there are no other black lines\nbut the meridians and parallels and the word \"Unexplored.\" I did not\ntake a minute to choose; the middle road over the Lunkar-la was\nnaturally the most desirable, for I knew that it would yield me most\ndetails to complete my knowledge of the intricate orography of the\nTrans-Himalaya. On the morning of June 9 we hastily concluded our\nbusiness, obtained yaks and guides, bought barley, rice, and _tsamba_,\ntook farewell of the chiefs of Bongba-tarok, and steered our course\ndirect to the temple. We passed several tent villages, for the country\nis densely peopled. At the foot of the mountain, on the left, a warm\nspring rises out of the ground. Below the monastery hill stand twenty\nsmall white stone cabins, each with a red frieze under the eaves and a\nsmall quadrangular yard. In front of the village are two _chhortens_\n(Illusts. 359, 366). behind which two women with their children were\nhiding. While the caravan continued up the Lunkar valley, I, with\nLobsang and Kutus, ascended the porphyry hill to the temple, which is\nsurrounded by a quadrangular wall. Some savage dogs rushed upon us and\nsnapped at Little Puppy, but there was no other sign of life. We went\ninto the court and found the temple door closed, and fastened with a\ngreat iron lock. As I was sketching a panorama of the great beautiful\nlake and its wreath of mountains, six men came up and told us in an\nangry voice to go away. I rose up, went straight to the nearest of them,\nand, pointing to the path down to the village, told them that if they\ndid not immediately make off they must put up with the consequences.\nThey turned round meekly without saying a word.\n\nThe lake stretches from north, 26\u00b0 W., to north, 57\u00b0 E., but extends\nfurther eastwards hidden behind a mountain. To the north-north-east two\nrocky islets are seen near the northern shore. To the north-east the\nBuptsang-tsangpo enters a bay, and in the far distance in the same\ndirection our old Sha-kangsham appears. The water of the Tarok-tso is\nsaid to be sweet, but I had no opportunity of confirming this statement.\nIf it is correct, the lake must have a subterranean outlet to the\nTabie-tsaka lying to the north, though a small mountain offshoot lies\nbetween the two lakes.\n\nWe left the small inhospitable monastery and a couple of small white and\nred houses, where the nuns have their cells, and soon rejoined our men\nin the Lunkar valley.\n\n[Illustration: 372. SONAM NGURBU AND HIS FOLLOWERS ON HORSEBACK.]\n\n[Illustration: 373. SOME OF OUR HORSES ON THE WAY TO KAMBA TSENAM'S\nTENT.]\n\nIn the night the temperature was above freezing-point for the first\ntime. Our path ascended steeply to the south-west and south, and in\nthree hours we were at the streamer-decked cairn on the Lunkar-la, where\nthe height was 18,274 feet. From a height to the north-east of the pass\nthe Tarok-tso lies below the spectator as on a map, and in the north\nfrom 20\u00b0 to 26\u00b0 E. is seen the white and yellow saline depression of\nTabie-tsaka, renowned throughout Tibet. At Goang-shung we got three new\nguides with four yaks, who took us to the bank of the Gyenor- or\nGoang-tsangpo--a small river which, coming from the mountain Kapta in\nthe south-east, falls into the Poru-tso. To the west rises a chain of\nmighty snowy peaks. On the morning of June 12, after 8.8 degrees of\nfrost, the stream was covered with a third of an inch of ice, and I\nmissed the pleasant rippling sound of the evening. But the ice broke up\nin the sunshine and rattled down in large flakes. We were conducted\nstill to the south-west; on the next day when we encamped on the lake\nshore the direction was nearer west. From camp 428 (17,067 feet) we had\na fine view over the small lake Poru-tso, also called Yeke-tso because\nit is situated in the district Bongba-yeke, the westernmost in the large\nprovince of Bongba, which is under the control of Karma Puntso. To the\nwest of it follows Rigi-hloma or Rigi-changmo, which is subject to\nNgari-karpun, as the Garpun of Gartok is called here. Puru-tso is drying\nup; the highest shore-line lies 354 feet above the present level of the\nlake. The water is not fit for drinking, but, curiously enough, it still\ncontains fish. An extremely disagreeable odour rises from the beach.\nThe lake stretches from north-east to south-west.\n\nOn June 14 we rode westwards and crossed the broad valley watered by the\nNyapchu-tsangpo, which, descending from the Men-la due south, falls into\nthe Poru-tso. The Men-la, a day's journey off, is a pass in a\nlongitudinal valley between two of the ranges of the Trans-Himalaya.\nOver its threshold a road runs to Shamsang on the upper Tsangpo. A day\nwas spent on the bank of the Surle-tsangpo, which also flows to the\nPoru-tso, and in the evening carried quite 210 cubic feet of water per\nsecond.\n\nHere I was waited on by Gova Pundar of Rigi-hloma, an elderly man, who\ngave me a _kadakh_, butter, meal, and milk, and sold us all the\nprovisions we required for several days, and his goodwill knew no\nbounds. The people in this part of Tibet were always very friendly\ndisposed. In the Lob country the natives called me Padishahim or \"Your\nMajesty,\" a title that more than satisfied my ambition; but in Bongba\nand Rigi I was often called Rinpoche or \"Your Holiness,\" which I thought\na little too strong. But they meant well, and I accepted their\ncivilities as the most natural thing in the world. Gova Pundar knew\nevery inch of his country, and I pumped him thoroughly. Among other\ninteresting details, he informed me that thirteen days' journey to the\nnorth, near the Lakkor-tso, was a monastery Marmik-gompa, a dependency\nof Sera, with twenty-five monks and four nuns. In the year 1901 I had\nbeen at the Lakkor-tso, and had heard the blast of the shell-horn at the\nother side of a ridge, but I did not enjoy the same freedom as now, and\ncould not visit the monastery.\n\nWe rode on the 16th in a snowstorm, with fresh men and yaks, through the\npicturesque Surle valley, and on the 17th over stony moss-grown slopes\nto the pass Sur-la or Sur-la-Kemi-la, 19,134 feet high, which, like the\nLunkar-la, is of the second order, for it is a divide between the\nPoru-tso and the Shovo-tso. Before reaching the actual pass we had a\nstriking view west-south-west over a world of firn-fields, peaks clothed\nwith eternal snow, and glaciers, one of which, of large dimensions and\nbluish green in front, with numerous moraines and rivulets, descends to\nthe Surle river. Here grey granite predominates; wild yaks are\neverywhere; the country is barren and of a high alpine character. On the\nother side of the Sur-la the ground descends rapidly among quantities of\nmedium-sized granite boulders.\n\nAt camp 431 we were, then, in the district Rigi-changma. When we went on\nfarther down the valley from the pass on June 18, we suddenly heard wild\nyells from a whole choir of four large and six small wolves, which were\nstrolling along a slope immediately to the left of the path. They were\ngreyish yellow, and seemed hungry and in a very vicious humour. Takkar\nrushed heedlessly at them, but they faced him, and he thought it better\nto turn back. They showed no signs of fear, but held their ground even\nwhen we threw stones at them. At that moment two horsemen with weapons\nand red hats came down from the Sur-la. They were pursuivants sent out\nin advance to Selipuk to make preparations for the arrival of the\n_serpuns_, or gold commissioners. These gentlemen are sent annually from\nLhasa to Tok-jalung, and their journey is burdensome to the nomads, for\nthey exact pack animals and food without payment. They take the road\nnorth of the Teri-nam-tso and Tabie-tsaka, which is one of Tibet's great\narteries. It is called the Ser-lam, or the \"gold road.\"\n\nOver a small saddle we came to the Pedang-tsangpo's valley, 6\u00bd miles\nbroad, which starts from the Trans-Himalayan pass Pedang-la, and runs\nalmost due north. Camp 432 was pitched on the river bank in a place\nquite devoid of life. Our guides wished to turn back with their yaks,\nbut were persuaded to accompany us to the nearest tent village. What\ncould the Tibetans be thinking of? They left us without the slightest\nsupervision, and we enjoyed more freedom than ever before. We could now\nhave travelled anywhere we liked, eastwards to Tabie-tsaka or southwards\nover the Trans-Himalaya; but the lakes in the north had most attraction\nfor me, and we should have to cross the lofty mountains in the south at\nsome time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXXII\n\nTHE LAST DAYS IN UNKNOWN COUNTRY\n\n\nOn June 19 we proceeded north-north-east down the Pedang-tsangpo's\ngently declining valley, sometimes near, sometimes at a distance from,\nthe fairly large river. On the right was the ridge of the Sur-la with\nits snowy summits and small glacier tongues, and far in the north was\nseen a huge crest called Ganglung-gangri, a prolongation of the Sur-la.\nWe found that this colossal range, like its eastern and western\nneighbours, runs from north-north-west to south-south-east, and that the\norographical configuration is totally unlike the scheme set forth by\nHodgson, Atkinson, Saunders, and Burrard, for these gentlemen, quite\nhypothetically, inserted a single chain parallel to the upper\nBrahmaputra. In reality one wanders here in a labyrinth of mountain\nranges, one and all only parts of the gigantic system of the\nTrans-Himalaya.\n\nThe road was excellent, and after a long ride we set up our two tents on\nthe bank of a glacier stream while snow squalls and showers of pelting\nrain came down alternately. Here we had to stay a day, that the genial\nnomads of the neighbourhood might send for the district chief; for we\nhad nothing to eat, but had to buy whatever we could get. He came, and\nwe bought provisions for 50 rupees, and gave him 20 for his kindness.\nOur treasury was almost empty, and I looked forward with trembling to\nthe time when we should be obliged, like wandering Jews, to sell\nwatches, revolvers, and horses to gain a livelihood. For here, in\nRigi-changma, no one had heard of Abdul Kerim and his men. We could not\ntell what had happened. Had he gone quite off his head? He had 2500\nrupees with him; had he decamped, or had he been robbed? A letter was\ndespatched to Gova Parvang saying that if he did not get news of them in\na week he would have all the Devashung and the Mandarins about his ears.\nAt any rate we had made a splendid journey through unknown country, and\nnow we must make our way to the Shovo-tso we had long heard spoken of.\nProperly we ought to have gone over the Pedang range on the west direct\nto Selipuk, but it was not difficult to talk over the Gova, and on June\n21 he had fresh yaks and guides ready. The latter were a young man and a\nboy ten years old in a blue sheepskin. With these we could have gone off\nanywhere, but I was tired and longed to get home. The valley of the\nPedang-tsangpo took us further to the north. It is unusual to find in\nTibet such a great longitudinal valley running north and south, for they\nlie almost always east and west, and produce the peculiar parallelism so\ncharacteristic of the country. We passed sixteen tents, and near the\nlast we crossed the Pedang-tsangpo, which runs to the Shovo-tso by a\nmore easterly course. Lobsang caused great amusement when he was\nattacked by a furious dog, and, having no stones, threw his bright\nsheath-knife at him; he missed, but the dog took the knife in his teeth\nand ran off to his master's tent.\n\nThen we rode up to the Abuk-la pass, with a view both magnificent and\ninstructive. The bluish-green Shovo-tso is, like Poru-tso, longest from\nnorth-east to south-west, and is surrounded by huge mountains, some of\nthem with eternal snow. To the north, 30\u00b0 E., we see the pass Ka-la,\nover which the \"gold road\" runs. The name Ka-la occurs on a map of one\nof Montgomerie's pundits by a single isolated mountain summit. In\nreality the Ka-la is the very opposite of a mountain summit, namely, a\ndepression or saddle in a mountain range. We encamped on the southern\nshore of the Shovo-tso, which lies at an absolute height of 15,696 feet.\nThe water is salt, and round the shore are seen old shore-lines of about\nthe same height as at Poru-tso.\n\n[Illustration: 374. LAMA OF CHOKCHU TAKING LEAVE OF THE PRIOR OF\nSELIPUK.]\n\n[Illustration: 375. LAMA OF CHOKCHU ON HORSEBACK.]\n\nJune 22. When we left the western extremity of the Shovo-tso we saw a\nlarge caravan of yaks and sheep which seemed to have the same\ndestination as ourselves. Lobsang found out that the people were\n_nekoras_ or pilgrims on the way to Kang-rinpoche, and that the owner of\nthe caravan was the Governor of Chokchu, Sonam Ngurbu (Illust. 372). We\nleft them behind and rode up to the pass Tela-mata-la. A horseman\napproached us at a gallop, and made signs to us to halt. We waited for\nhim, all on the tiptoe of expectation, for we made sure that he brought\nus a message from Abdul Kerim. Bah! it was only one of Sonam Ngurbu's\nsoldiers who wanted to ask our guides if a spring on the way to Selipuk\nhad any water in it this year. Sonam Ngurbu's caravan had come from\nTabie-tsaka and had not heard a word of our men. It seemed as though the\nearth had swallowed them up. My orders had been that, whatever else they\ndid, they should wait for us on the Buptsang-tsangpo. Doubtless they had\nbeen plundered by robbers; and we had only 80 rupees left. I blessed the\nhour when I decided to keep myself all the maps, notes, sketches, and\nrock specimens when we parted at Kamba Tsenam's tent. We could obtain\nmoney by selling some valuables, and from Selipuk I could send a courier\nto Thakur Jai Chand in Gartok.\n\nFrom Tela-mata-la we have again a striking view over almost all the\nSur-la range and over the mountainous region of Lavar-gangri to the\nsouth of Selipuk. With every day's march the orographical configuration\nbecomes clearer, and soon the leading features of the blank space will\nbe nearly all ascertained.\n\nThe temperature again sank at the midsummer season below freezing-point,\nthe reading on June 23 being 25.9\u00b0. We rode through a small steep valley\nup to the Tayep-parva-la (17,887 feet). The ground was so honeycombed\nwith mouse-holes that the horses trod on two or three at once. Little\nPuppy caught a couple of field-mice by the neck, and we did not pity\nthem. A marmot which had ventured too far from its hole almost fell into\nTakkar's clutches, but just saved himself in time. At the pass we made\nthe usual halt for observations, and I drew a panorama of the\nsurroundings. Between north and north-west the horizon is far distant\nand the country level; only to the north, 5\u00b0 W., appears a small\nsnow-capped dome, but not another _gangri_. The view over\nNganglaring-tso, just below, is grand, all the mountains in shades of\npink, and the water of a deep ultramarine. A large part of its eastern\nhalf is occupied by a large island, a mountain mass rising out of the\nwater with a contour as irregular as that of the lake itself, all\npromontories, bays, and capes. To the north-west lie three small\nislands. No European had ever seen Nganglaring-tso before, nor any\npundit. But the pundit sent by Montgomerie in 1867 to Tok-jalung\nobtained some hazy information about the district \"Shellifuk\" and the\ngreat lake \"Ghalaring-tso,\" which was afterwards inserted in maps of\nTibet. The form given by the pundit to the lake, namely, an egg-shape\nwith the longer axis from north to south, does not at all correspond to\nthe reality; for the lake stretches east and west, and its contour could\nnot be more irregular than it is. The pundit places a small island in\nthe northern half, and adds the legend \"Monastery on Island.\" In reality\nNganglaring-tso has at least four islands, but not a single monastery.\n\nOn Midsummer Day we encamped by the roaring surf (15,577 feet), and on\nthe 25th we crossed the last hilly mountain spur which still separated\nus from the extensive plain of Selipuk. From its height we again saw the\ngreat chain of Sur-la, and to the south the Trans-Himalaya with\nsixty-three snowy peaks, regular as the teeth of a saw. On the 26th we\nrode over level country to the west-north-west. On the plain two mounted\nTibetans were pursuing a wild ass, which was wounded in the near foreleg\nand had four dogs at his heels. The dogs did not bite him, but tried to\nchase the animal in a certain direction. Time after time the men were\nclose on the game and dismounted; they did not shoot, but threw up dust\nwith their hands to frighten the wild ass and drive him as near as\npossible to their tent, that they might not have to carry the meat far\n(Illust. 356).\n\n[Illustration: 376, 377. BOYS SITTING.]\n\n[Illustration: 378. YOUNG LAMA.]\n\n[Illustration: 379. OLD WOMAN.\n\n Sketches by the Author.]\n\nCamp 439 was pitched on the bank of the river Sumdang-tsangpo, which\nflows into the Nganglaring-tso without joining the rivers\nLavar-tsangpo and Aong-tsangpo, farther west, which unite and enter the\nlake's most western bounds. Here Lobsang caught a wolf cub, a small wild\nrogue, which much interested Takkar. But Takkar had a great respect for\nhis hereditary enemy and ventured to bite only his tail. Afterwards he\nbecame bolder, and when the little creature found himself in a desperate\nsituation, he threw himself into the river to swim over to the other\nside. Then Takkar gave a yell, jumped in and caught the cub, thrust him\ndown with his paws, seized him with his teeth and brought him to land,\nwhere he ate every bit of him.\n\nWe followed the river upwards on June 27 and encamped again on its bank\nopposite the monastery Selipuk-gompa (15,696 feet), the abbot of which,\na Kanpo-lama, Jamtse Singe, was also chief of the district in secular\naffairs (Illusts. 356, 374, 369, 341). Neither he nor any one else had\nheard anything of Abdul Kerim, but he was so good as to search in his\nholy books to find out where our men were, and he came to the conclusion\nthat they were somewhere to the south, and that in twenty days we should\neither meet them or hear some reliable news of them.\n\nOn June 28, at half-past nine in the evening, the country was shaken by\nan earthquake--the only one I ever experienced in Tibet. However, it had\nno effect on the good relations between me and the monks and Sonam\nNgurbu, the Governor (Illusts. 326, 375), who was also a guest in the\nmonastery, and had a high lama from Chokchu (Illust. 355) in his party.\nThe Governor gave us as much _tsamba_, rice, and sugar as would at a\npinch last us till we came to Tokchen, and he received a watch in\nexchange. Of money we had only a few rupees left. I had never been in\nsuch straits before. If I ever meet Abdul Kerim again, I thought, he\nshall get what he deserves and a little more.\n\nWhen we set up our tents on the last day of June on the Rartse plain,\nsouth of Selipuk, Lobsang announced at dusk that four men and four mules\nwere coming to the camp. They were Abdul Kerim, Sedik, Gaffar, and a\nTibetan. Our caravan bashi came frightened and confused to my tent, and\nI thought it better that he should give an account of his stewardship\nbefore I passed sentence on him. He reported that they had come to the\nappointed rendezvous at the proper time, but there he had been hard\npressed by six Govas--Gova Parvang among them, who took the lead, and\nordered them to leave the place at once and go on to the Tarok-tso. As\nthey had no passport from Lhasa, they could expect no mercy, he said. So\nthey betook themselves to the northern shore of the Tarok-tso, where\nthey waited fourteen days, as the grazing was good and no one interfered\nwith them. They heard contradictory reports about us. At length a nomad\ndied on the lake shore, and a monk from Lunkar-gompa was summoned to his\ntent to read the prayers for the dead. They met this man, and he said\nthat we had passed the monastery nine days previously. Then they packed\nup all their belongings, intending to hurry after us next morning. But\nhorse-stealers had come in the night and stolen my grey Tikze horse and\na mule from Saka-dzong. This event cost them three days, but they never\nrecovered the stolen animals. While Suen, Abdullah, Abdul Rasak, and\nSonam Kunchuk followed slowly, the three others made forced marches\nwestwards, and now at last they were here and had all our cash with\nthem. Abdul Kerim escaped with a slight reprimand, but I afterwards\nheard the other men badgering him. We found the others in Kyangrang, and\nso the whole strength of the company, thirteen men, was complete when,\non July 8, we crossed the pass Ding-la (Illust. 213), 19,308 feet high,\nthe loftiest pass we had crossed in all this journey in Tibet, and on\npast the small lake Argok-tso, which lies in the basin of the\nAong-tsangpo; and on July 12 we crossed the Surnge-la (17,310 feet). Two\ndays later we came to Tokchen, where another political entanglement\ndetained us nine days. But I cannot stay to give an account of it, for I\nreached the limit of the space allowed me at Chapter LXIV., and my\npublisher is impatient.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXXIII\n\nTHE TRANS-HIMALAYA\n\n\nOn the map of the Jesuits, now two hundred years old (D'Anville, 1733)\n(Map 2), a series of mountains runs on the north side of the upper\nBrahmaputra, bearing from east to west the following names: Youc,\nLarkin, Tchimouran Co\u00efran, Tchompa, Lop, Tchour, Takra concla, Kentaisse\n(Kailas) Latatsi, etc. These mountains and ranges have never been\ntransferred to modern maps of Tibet, probably because geographers\nregarded the material collected by trained Tibetans as too unreliable\nand indefinite. Yet these chains of mountains are nothing else but the\nTrans-Himalaya, though the representation is confused and inexact.\n\nWhen Brian Hodgson in his map of southern Tibet (_Selections from the\nRecords of the Government of Bengal_, No. xxvii.), here reproduced in\nfacsimile (Map 3), drew a huge unbroken chain north of, and parallel to,\nthe Tsangpo, he took a step which could only be based on the Jesuits'\nmap and the data he received in the year 1843 from the Maharaja of\nNepal. No doubt lofty mountains existed to the north of the\nTsangpo--that was known to the Jesuits even in the time of Kang Hi. But\nHodgson's hypothetical Nyenchhen-thangla (Trans-Himalaya), which he\nlooks upon as a prolongation of the Karakorum, and the natural boundary\nbetween northern and southern Tibet, is by no means an original\nconception, and is no advance on previous knowledge, or, more correctly,\ntheory. For already, in the year 1840, Dufour had inserted a similar\nhuge uninterrupted chain north of, and parallel to, the Tsangpo, on the\nmap which illustrates the famous description of the travels of the\nLazarist missionary, Father Huc (Illust. 381)--_Souvenirs d'un Voyage\ndans la Tartarie, le Thibet et la Chine, 1844-46_. Dufour's map is even\nbetter than Hodgson's, for he has adopted from the Jesuits' map a\nnorthern affluent to the Tsangpo, passing through the great range,\nwhich, like the Jesuits, he calls Mts. Ko\u00efran.\n\nHuc and Gabet were probably the first Europeans to cross the\nTrans-Himalaya, and one wonders where they made the passage. Probably by\nthe Shang-shung-la along the Mongolian pilgrim road from Kuku-nor and\nTsaidam to Lhasa. It is vain to seek any information on the subject in\nHuc's famous book. During the two years Huc stayed in Macao he worked up\nthe scanty notes he had made on his journey. He mentions Burkhan Bota,\nShuga, and Tang-la, and also the large village Nakchu, where the\ncaravans exchange their camels for yaks, but he says not a word about\nthe pass by which he crossed one of the mightiest mountain systems of\nthe world. He says, indeed, that he went over a colossal mountain range,\nand as its position agreed with that of the Mts. Ko\u00efran of Dufour and\nthe Jesuits, he adopts this name, which he certainly had never heard on\nhis journey, and which probably was changed on its way from Tibet to the\nJesuits' note-books in Pekin. All he has to say of his journey over the\nTrans-Himalaya is contained in the following sentences: \"La route qui\nconduit de Na-Ptchu \u00e0 Lha-Ssa est, en g\u00e9n\u00e9ral, rocailleuse et\ntr\u00e8s-fatigante. Quand on arrive \u00e0 la cha\u00eene des monts Ko\u00efran, elle est\nd'une difficult\u00e9 extr\u00eame\" (ii. p. 241).\n\nAnother attempt to represent the course of the Trans-Himalaya was made\nby Trelawney Saunders in his map of Tibet (Map 6), which is found in\nMarkham's _Narratives of the Mission of George Bogle to Tibet, and of\nthe Journey of Thomas Manning to Lhasa_ (London, 1879), and in Edwin T.\nAtkinson's _The Himalayan Districts of the North-Western Provinces of\nIndia_ (Allahabad, 1882). Like Dufour and Hodgson, Saunders draws a huge\ncontinuous chain all through Tibet. For the western parts, north of\nManasarowar, and for the eastern, south of Tengri-nor, he has relied on\nthe cartography of the pundits; the rest, between 82\u00b0 and 89\u00bd\u00b0 E. long.,\nis partly a reproduction of the Jesuits' map, partly pure fancy, and has\nnot the remotest resemblance to the reality, as will be apparent from a\ncomparison of Saunders' map with mine. I will only point out that the\nTrans-Himalaya consists not of one chain but of many, and that the\nsource of the Chaktak-tsangpo lies to the south, not to the north of the\nprincipal one. All the central and largest part of the system, which I\nexplored, is therefore quite incorrect on Saunders' map.\n\nIn the year 1867 Colonel Montgomerie (Illust. 380) sent out three\npundits for the purpose of compiling a map of the country north of\nManasarowar. One of them was the incomparable and wonderful Nain Sing,\nanother was the man who was at Yiachan prevented from discovering the\nsource of the Indus. On their way to Tok-jalung they crossed the\nTrans-Himalaya at the Jukti-la, which they called Gugti-la, assigning to\nit a height of 19,500 feet: I found its height was 19,070 feet. Mr.\nCalvert crossed the same pass a year before me. On their return they\ncrossed the Trans-Himalaya by following the eastern branch of the Indus\ndown to where it breaks through the range and unites with the Gartok\nbranch.\n\nA pundit also went between Manasarowar and Tok-jalung, past the\nRuldap-tso--a name and lake I sought for east and west in vain, but I\nwill not therefore deny its existence. Moreover, of this pundit's route\nI have no precise details. It seems likely that he crossed the\nTrans-Himalaya by a pass called Sar-lung.\n\nOn January 8, 1872, one of Montgomerie's explorers, a young trained\nTibetan, travelled over the Trans-Himalaya by the Khalamba-la, 17,200\nfeet high. In Markham's account of this journey it is said that he\nreturned across the mountains by the Dhok-la, though the actual\nwater-parting pass he came to was much more probably the Dam-largen-la.\nThis pass was crossed the following year (1873) by Nain Sing on his\nfamous journey from Leh to Lhasa, which is described so conscientiously\nby Colonel Sir Henry Trotter. Nain Sing assigns to Dam-langren-la a\nheight of 16,900 feet.\n\nThe great pundit A. K., or Krishna, who contends with Nain Sing for the\nforemost place, crossed the most easterly parts of the Trans-Himalaya on\nhis journey in 1881, and more probably by the pass Shiar-gang-la than\nthe Nub-kong-la, as I have already suggested; but from his map it is\ndifficult to decide whether the Shiar-gang-la is a dividing pass of the\nfirst rank or not. In any case, it is situated on the chain which forms\nthe watershed between the Salwin and the Brahmaputra, and is undoubtedly\nan immediate continuation of the Nien-chen-tang-la, or Trans-Himalaya. A\nsimilar assumption is also made by Colonel S. G. Burrard in his and\nHayden's admirable work, _A Sketch of the Geography and Geology of the\nHimalaya Mountains and Tibet_ (Calcutta, 1907). On map xvii. in this\nwork Burrard has, quite rightly in my opinion, inserted the prolongation\nof the range, though we have no sure data about its course.\n\n[Illustration: 380. COLONEL T. G. MONTGOMERIE.]\n\n[Illustration: 381. ABB\u00c9 HUC.\n\n For the portrait of T. G. Montgomerie my thanks are due to the\n Colonel's widow, and for that of P\u00e8re Huc, probably not published\n before, to Mr. E. Schwartz, Paris.]\n\nThus we find that after Father Huc several of Montgomerie's and\nTrotter's pundits, as well as Mr. Calvert in the year 1906, crossed the\nTrans-Himalaya in Tibet. So far as I know, there are only two more names\nto be added to these--namely, Littledale, who on his bold journey in\n1894-95 passed over the system by the pass Guring-la (19,587 feet), and\nCount de Lesdain, who crossed it by the Khalamba-la in 1905. Both\ndescribe the magnificent spectacle Nien-chen-tang-la presents from\nTengri-nor, but the latter added nothing to our knowledge of the\nTrans-Himalaya, for he made use of the same pass, the Khalamba-la, as\nMontgomerie's pundit. In his narrative, _Voyage au Thibet, par la\nMongolie de P\u00e9kin aux Indes_, he mentions not a single pass, much less\nits name. But he followed the western shore of Tengri-nor, and he says\n(p. 340): \"Des massifs de montagnes tr\u00e8s durs et absolument enchev\u00eatr\u00e9s\nformaient un obstacle insurmontable. En cons\u00e9quence, je r\u00e9solus de\nsuivre le premier cours d'eau, dont la direction ferait pr\u00e9sumer qu'il\nse dirigeait vers le Brahmapoutra. C'est ainsi que nous chemin\u00e2mes\nplusieurs jours en suivant les bords d'une rivi\u00e8re sans cesse\ngrossissante, appel\u00e9e Chang-chu....\" This river is the Shang-chu, which\ncomes from the Khalamba-la.\n\nTwo Frenchmen and two Englishmen have, then, crossed the Trans-Himalaya\nbefore me, besides half a dozen pundits. Farther west in English\nterritory innumerable Europeans have passed over the system, especially\nby the Chang-la, where I surmounted it three times. Between the Indus\nand the Panggong-tso I travelled over the system on November 22, 1907,\nby the easy pass Tsake-la.\n\nAn extraordinarily valuable contribution to the knowledge of the\nTrans-Himalaya was afforded us by Ryder and Wood on their remarkable\njourney up the Brahmaputra in the year 1904. They had no opportunity of\ncrossing the system, or even of penetrating a day's journey into the\nsouthern transverse valleys, but they took bearings of all the summits\nvisible from their route. And some of these, particularly Lunpo-gangri,\nare among the very highest which, under a mantle of eternal snow, rise\nup from the Trans-Himalaya. The absolutely highest is, according to\nRyder, 23,255 feet, and is therefore little inferior to\nNien-chen-tang-la with its 23,900 feet. Ryder and Burrard took it for\ngranted that these summits stood on a single continuous range, which\nthey represent on their map as the northern watershed of the\nBrahmaputra. In his text (p. 95), however, Burrard rightly points out\nthat this chain, which he calls \"the Kailas Range,\" is not the\nwatershed, for in some places it is broken through by affluents from the\nnorth. Burrard commits the same mistake as Dufour, Hodgson, Saunders,\nand Atkinson, in assuming the existence of a single continuous range to\nthe north of the Tsangpo. I pondered much myself over this problem, and\non a general map of the ranges of Tibet (1905) I inserted two ranges\nnorth of the Tsangpo, a conception in accordance with F. Grenard's in\nhis _Carte de l'Asie Centrale_ of the year 1899.\n\nA history of geographical exploration in a region so little known as the\nTrans-Himalaya must naturally be exceeding short and meagre. With all my\nresearches I have not been able to discover any other predecessors than\nthose already mentioned--that is, in those parts of the system which lie\nwithin the bounds of Tibet--and not a single one in the central regions\nof the Trans-Himalaya. That such an extensive region as southern Tibet\nhas been quite unknown till now, though it lies close to the Indian\nfrontier, has given rise to much reasonable astonishment, and in many\ncircles arguments and proofs, based on more or less apocryphal records\nand vague hypotheses, have been laboriously sought out to prove that my\ndiscoveries have not the priority claimed for them. The maps I have\nreproduced in facsimile, when carefully compared with my own maps,\nrender any discussion on my part quite superfluous.\n\n[Illustration: 382. Altar Table with Images of Gods in Mangnang-gompa.\n\n Water-colour Sketch by the Author.]\n\nI cannot, however, pass over in silence an insinuation that the\ndiscoveries I have made are to be found indicated on the famous\nwall-maps in the Doge's Palace at Venice. The Chief Librarian of the\nRoyal Library in Stockholm, Dr. E. W. Dahlgren, writes in a letter to\nme: \"Only the grossest ignorance and silliness can find on these maps\ntraces of any discoveries previous to yours.\" Before my return home\nProfessor Mittag-Leffler, Director of the mathematical school in the\nUniversity of Stockholm, had sent for photographs of these maps with a\nvery detailed description, and he has kindly placed this material at my\ndisposal. This book is not the place in which to publish it, and,\nbesides, the following statement which Dr. Dahlgren has obligingly drawn\nup at my request makes all further comment unnecessary:\n\n The Wall-Maps in the Sala dello Scudo, in the Doge's Palace at Venice\n\n These maps, four in number, were constructed by the noted cartographer\n Giacomo Gastaldi in the middle of the sixteenth century, to take the\n place of older maps which were destroyed by fire in the year 1483; at\n least, it may be safely assumed that two of them, those of East Asia\n and Africa, are the work of Gastaldi.\n\n The maps represent:\n\n 1. Asia from the mouth of the Indus eastwards to China and Japan, as\n well as the Pacific Ocean and part of America.\n\n 2. Asia from Asia Minor to India (Kashmir).\n\n 3. Africa.\n\n 4. Italy.\n\n Only maps Nos. 1 and 2 have any interest for Sven Hedin. They\n correspond completely with the photographs procured by Professor\n Mittag-Leffler.\n\n All the maps were restored by Francisco Grisellini about the middle of\n the eighteenth century. In map No. 2 great alterations seem to have\n been made in geographical details as well as in the text and in the\n decoration. As the map extends no farther east than Kashmir it has, of\n course, no connection with Sven Hedin's discoveries.\n\n Map No. 1, on the other hand, has in many essential respects preserved\n its original character. We can undoubtedly form a good notion of its\n original appearance by comparing it with the maps in Ramusio's work\n _Delle Navigazioni e Viaggi_ (2nd Edition, Venice, 1554) and with\n Gastaldi's _Tercia Parte dell' Asia_ (Venice, 1561). The resemblance\n to the former is very striking. In these maps, as in the wall-maps,\n the south is to the top.\n\n On all these maps there is very great confusion in the representation\n of the river systems of the Ganges and the Brahmaputra. The mountains\n are drawn in at random, and even the Himalayas cannot be identified\n with complete certainty, much less the ranges of Central Asia. As the\n map was chiefly designed to illustrate the travels of Marco Polo, it\n naturally gives no information about countries he did not visit.\n\n E. W. DAHLGREN.\n\nFather Huc concludes the account of his journey with the following\nremarkable words: \"Mais il ne suffit pas toujours du z\u00e8le de l'\u00e9crivain\npour faire conna\u00eetre des contr\u00e9es o\u00f9 il n'a jamais mis le pied. \u00c9crire\nun Voyage en Chine apr\u00e8s quelques promenades aux factories de Canton et\naux environs de Macao, c'est peut-\u00eatre s'exposer beaucoup \u00e0 parler de\nchose qu'on ne conna\u00eet pas suffisamment ... il est en g\u00e9n\u00e9ral assez\ndifficile de faire des d\u00e9couvertes dans un pays sans y avoir p\u00e9n\u00e9tr\u00e9.\"\n\nIt was with such truths in my mind that I began the journey described in\nthis book, the object of which was that set forth by Sir Clements\nMarkham, when in connection with Littledale's last journey he made the\nfollowing statement (_Geographical Journal_, vol. vii. p. 482): \"In the\nwhole length from Tengri-nor to the Mariam-la pass no one has crossed\nthem (the Trans-Himalaya), so far as we know ... and I believe nothing\nin Asia is of greater geographical importance than the exploration of\nthis range of mountains.\"\n\nIt is not for me to decide how far I have achieved my aim, but when I\npassed over the Trans-Himalaya for the eighth time at the Surnge-la, I\nhad at least the satisfaction of seeing all the old hypotheses fall down\nlike a house of cards, and a new ground-plan laid down on the map of\nAsia, where before the blank patch yawned with its alluring\n\"Unexplored.\"\n\n[Illustration: 383. THE AUTHOR IN TIBETAN COSTUME AT THE MISSION STATION\nIN POO.\n\n Photograph by the Rev. Mr. Marx.]\n\nI have no space here for a complete monograph of the Trans-Himalaya, or,\nindeed, the material for it, until the bearings and heights of the peaks\nhave been worked out, the rock specimens identified, and a detailed map\nconstructed from the sheets I drew. It will take a couple of years to\nwork up the material. I will here only communicate some general facts,\nand will begin by citing the passes of first rank as watersheds,\nappending the names of the travellers who have crossed some of them:\n\n Shiar-gang-la Krishna, 1881\n Shang-shung-la Huc, 1845\n Dam-largen-la Nain Sing, 1873 16,903 feet.\n Guring-la Littledale, 1895 19,587 \"\n Tsebo-la\n Shugu-la\n Khalamba-la Pundit, 1872 17,200 \"\n Do. de Lesdain, 1905\n Sela-la Hedin, 1907 18,064 \"\n Chang-la-Pod-la Hedin, 1907 18,284 \"\n Sha-la\n Angden-la Hedin, 1907 18,514 \"\n Tsalam-nakta-la\n Dombe-la\n Nakbo-kongdo-la\n Sangmo-bertik-la Hedin, 1908 19,095 \"\n Saggo-la\n Dicha-la\n Samye-la Hedin, 1908 18,133 \"\n Dsalung-la\n Lungmar-la\n Pechen-la\n Lungnak-la\n Yor-la\n Ganglung-la\n Men-la\n Pedang-la\n Gebbyi-la\n Yilung-la\n Tarkyang-la\n Surnge-la Pundit? Hedin, 1908 17,310 feet\n Tseti-lachen-la Hedin, 1907 17,933 \"\n Jukti-la Nain Sing, 1867\n Do. Calvert, 1906\n Do. Hedin, 1907 19,070 \"\n\nIt has, then, been my lot to cross eight Trans-Himalayan passes, while\nseven have been crossed by other travellers. Seven of my passes were\nunknown before. Of the others I have seen the Dicha-la and Men-la, while\nof the remainder I have only gathered oral information. The Jukti-la is\nthe watershed between the two headwaters of the Indus, the\nTseti-lachen-la between the Sutlej and the Indus, the Surnge-la between\nthe Sutlej and the Nganglaring-tso. Shiar-gang-la and Shang-shung-la lie\non the watershed between the Salwin and the Brahmaputra. All the others\nlie on the great continental watershed between the ocean and the\nisolated drainage of the plateau. It appears from the list that all the\npasses crossed before by Europeans and pundits belong to the eastern and\nwestern parts of the system. Between the Khalamba-la and the Surnge-la\nthe Trans-Himalaya had not been crossed in a single line, and it was\nexactly between these two passes that the great white space was\nsituated. All that was known of it was the peaks fixed by Ryder and\nWood, and some summits seen by Nain Sing from the north. If the Pundit's\njourney between Manasarowar and Ruldap-tso be disregarded, of which I\nhave no information, the interval between the Khalamba-la and the\nJukti-la measures 590 miles, or about as far as from Link\u00f6ping to\nHaparanda, or from London to Dornoch Firth. And between these limits lie\nall the passes by crossing which I was able to trace the course of the\nTrans-Himalaya, and prove that its known eastern and western sections\nare connected and belong to the same mountain system, and that this\nsystem is one of the loftiest and mightiest in the world, only to be\ncompared with the Himalayas, the Karakorum, Arka-tag, and Kuen-lun.\nBetween the Shiar-gang-la and Yasin, not far from the sharp bend of the\nIndus, its length amounts to 1400 miles, but if it can be shown that the\nTrans-Himalaya merges into the Hindu-Kush and continues along the\nSalwin, its length extends to 2500 miles. On the north and south its\nboundaries are sharp and clearly defined; the northern is formed by the\ncentral lakes discovered by Nain Sing and myself, and the southern by\nthe unheard-of Indus-tsangpo valley. In breadth it is inferior to the\nHimalayas, and its peaks are lower, but the heights of the\nTrans-Himalayan passes are considerably greater than those of the\nHimalayas. The average height of the five following Himalayan\npasses--Shar-khalep-la, Man-da-la, She-ru-la, No-la and Kore- or\nPhotu-la--is 16,736 feet, while the average height of my first five\nTrans-Himalayan passes is 18,400 feet. It may be said generally that the\ndividing passes in the Trans-Himalaya of the first rank are 1600 feet\nhigher than in the Himalayas. But the highest peak of the Himalayas,\nMount Everest, with its 29,000, is 5100 feet higher than the\nNien-chen-tang-la, the culminating point, as far as we know. Herewith\nare connected the different forms of relief predominating in the two\nsystems; the crests of the Trans-Himalaya are flatter, its valleys\nshallower and broader, while the crests of the Himalayas are sharp and\npointed, its valleys deep and much eroded. The former system is more\ncompact and massive than the latter, as we may expect if we remember\nthat the Himalayas are deluged by the precipitation of the south-west\nmonsoon, and that its waters have for untold thousands of years degraded\nits valleys, while the Trans-Himalaya on the dry plateau country\nreceives a comparatively insignificant share of the monsoon rain. Were\nit possible to compare the volumes of the two systems, we should no\ndoubt find that the northern is much more massive than the southern, for\nsuch a comparison must proceed from sea-level, and though the\nTrans-Himalaya is the narrower of the two, its ascent begins from\nheights of 10,000 to 16,000 feet, from the Tsangpo valley, while the\nHimalayas rise from sea-level or a few hundred feet above it. As a\nwatershed the Trans-Himalaya occupies a higher and more important place\nthan the Himalayas. In the west the Himalayas parts the waters between\nthe Indus and some of its tributaries, and in the east the system is a\ndivide between the Brahmaputra and the Ganges. But every drop of water\nwhich falls on the Himalayas goes down to the Indian Ocean. On the other\nhand, all the central Trans-Himalaya is a watershed between the Indian\nOcean on the south and the enclosed drainage area of the plateau\ndepression on the north. Only in its western section is the\nTrans-Himalaya also a watershed between the Indus and some of its\nright-hand tributaries, and in its eastern between the Salwin and\nBrahmaputra. Within the boundaries of Tibet there is only one river\nwhich takes its rise from the northern flank of the Trans-Himalaya and\nbreaks through the system by a transverse valley; but this river is a\nlion, and is called by the Tibetans the Lion river, the Singi-kamba or\nIndus. The Salwin also springs from the northern flank of the system,\nbut finds its way to the ocean without passing through the mountains.\nAll the other rivers rising on the northern slopes, of which the\nBuptsang-tsangpo and the Soma-tsangpo are the largest, flow into the\nundrained salt lakes on the north. Only in the central parts of the\nTrans-Himalaya, stretching, however, over a distance of nearly 600\nmiles, does the continental watershed coincide with the main axis of the\nsystem, for to the west the watershed runs northwards from the source of\nthe Indus, and then westwards, so as to leave the Panggong-tso within\nthe isolated drainage basin of Tibet, and in the east runs northwards\nfrom the region between the source streams of the Salwin and Tengri-nor.\n\nI have called this book Trans-Himalaya, because the incidents and\nadventures described in these two volumes occurred in this huge mountain\nsystem lying to the north of the Tsangpo and in the country to the north\nand south of it. When I first crossed the dividing range at the Sela-la\nI thought of retaining the name Hodgson had assigned to it, that is,\nNien-chen-tang-la, and I did not change my mind after crossing the\nChang-la-Pod-la and Angden-la, for these three passes lie on one and the\nsame range, which on the southern shore of Tengri-nor is called\nNien-chen-tang-la. After crossing the Tseti-lachen-la and the Jukti-la I\nsupposed that these passes lay on the western prolongation of the\nNien-chen-tang-la, and that the conception of Hodgson, Saunders,\nAtkinson, Burrard, and Ryder was correct. But after the second journey\nright through Tibet, and after I had crossed Bongba in several\ndirections and found that there was no question of a single continuous\nrange, but that a whole collection of ranges quite independent of one\nanother existed, I perceived that the name Nien-chen-tang-la, which only\ndenotes one of all these ranges, could not be given to the whole system.\nEqually inappropriate would be the names Lunpo-gangri, Kamchung-gangri,\nTargo-gangri, or any other local name. Saunders' \"Gangri Mountains\" I\nconsider still more unsuitable, for every mountain in Tibet clothed with\neternal snow is called a _gangri_, and the name in this connection would\nhave a meaningless sound. Neither could I accept Burrard's \"The Kailas\nRange.\" A name must be found suited to the whole of this intimately\nconnected association of mountain ranges, a geographical conception\nwhich would leave no room for misunderstanding, and I decided to call\nthe whole system, the connection and continuity of which I had succeeded\nin proving, the Trans-Himalaya.\n\nAmong English geographers many have approved of this name and an equal\nnumber have disapproved. To the latter category belongs Colonel Burrard,\nwho points out that for some years back all the regions lying beyond the\nHimalayas have been called Trans-Himalayan. And in a letter he has\nlately written to me he says:\n\n Pupils of Montgomerie naturally ask why an old word should be given a\n new meaning when it is possible to invent any number of new names for\n newly discovered mountains. I do not see that it is necessary to give\n an important name to newly discovered mountains. A new name will\n become important because of the mountains to which it is attached, and\n your mountains would have rendered any new name important.\n\n[Illustration: 384. THE LAST MEMBERS OF THE LAST EXPEDITION IN POO.]\n\nI cannot share Colonel Burrard's view, for I answer that just because\nof the circumstance that Montgomerie's pupils, officials of the Survey\nof India and pundits, have for fifty years and more called the country\nnorth of the Himalayas \"The Trans-Himalayan regions,\" it was incumbent\non me not to reject this name for the mountain system which can be\nnothing else but the Trans-Himalaya _par excellence_.\n\nTo give a quotation from the other side, I will here reproduce an\nexpression of opinion from Lord Curzon, formerly Viceroy of India, whose\nknowledge of Asia is unsurpassed. In the _Geographical Journal_, April\n1909, he says:\n\n Alongside of this great discovery (Bongba and Chokchu) I would place\n the tracing for hundreds of miles and the assurance of a definite\n orographical existence to the mighty mountain palisade or series of\n palisades to which he has, in my opinion very appropriately, given the\n title of the Trans-Himalaya. This range has been surmised to exist in\n its entire length for many years; it has been crossed at its\n extremities by Littledale and by native surveyors. But it was reserved\n for Dr. Hedin to trace it on the spot and to place it upon the map in\n its long, unbroken, and massive significance.... It is no mean\n addition to human knowledge that we should realize the assured\n existence of one of the greatest mountain masses in the world. As\n regards the name which Dr. Hedin has given to it, I will only say that\n the desiderata for the title of a new and momentous geographical\n discovery appear to be these: (1) that the name should if possible be\n given by the principal discoverer; (2) that it should not be\n unpronounceable, unwriteable, over-recondite, or obscure; (3) that it\n should if possible possess some descriptive value; and (4) should not\n violate any acknowledged canons of geographical nomenclature. The name\n Trans-Himalaya combines all these advantages, and it has a direct\n Central Asian analogy in the Trans-Alai, which is a range of mountains\n standing in the same relation to the Alai that Trans-Himalaya will do\n to Himalaya. I am not in the least impressed by the fact that the name\n was once given to another range, where its unsuitability secured its\n early extinction. Any attempts to substitute another title on the\n present occasion will, in my opinion, be foredoomed to failure.\n\nMy long journey backwards and forwards over the Trans-Himalaya cannot be\nregarded as more than a cursory and defective reconnaissance of a\ncountry hitherto unknown. It is easier to go to Lhasa with a force armed\nto the teeth, and shoot down the Tibetans like pheasants if they stand\nin the way, than to cross Tibet in all directions for two long years\nwith four Governments and all the authorities of the land as opponents,\ntwelve poor Ladakis as companions, and not a single man as escort. It is\nno merit of mine that I was long able to maintain a position which from\nthe first seemed untenable. The same lucky star looked down, as often\nbefore, on my lonely course through vast Asia, and it is twenty-four\nyears since I first took up my pilgrim staff. I have been able to follow\nand lay down only the chief geographical lines; between my routes many\nblank spaces are still left, and there is sufficient detailed work for\ngenerations of explorers and travellers more thoroughly prepared and\nbetter equipped than myself.\n\nGo, then, out into the world, thou ringing and sonorous name for one of\nthe world's mightiest mountain systems, and find thy way into\ngeographical text-books, and remind children in the schools of the\nsnow-crowned summits on the Roof of the World, among which the monsoon\nstorms have sung their deafening chorus since the beginning. As long as\nI live, my proudest memories, like royal eagles, will soar round the\ncold desolate crags of the Trans-Himalaya.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER LXXIV\n\nSIMLA\n\n\nLike a troop of beggars and knights of the road my twelve servants and I\nleft Tokchen on July 24. We had stayed there nine days with nothing to\ndo but watch the monsoon rain, which I had incautiously promised the\nnatives, pelting down on the hills. The authorities of the place\ninsisted this time that, as we were not furnished with a passport from\nLhasa, we had no right to make use of the great high-road to Ladak, but\nmust turn back to the interior of Tibet whence we had come. If I had not\nalready had enough of the great blank, I would have agreed to their\ndemand with pleasure, but I was now weary and longed for home, and as\nthey refused the assistance and the transport facilities we required, we\nset out on foot with the baggage on our last ten horses and mules. I had\nstill the white horse from Kamba Tsenam's tent at my disposal. We had no\nescort, for the authorities wished to be quite clear of blame in case\nthey were called to account. By the holy lake, where we followed the\nnorthern shore by known ways, we at length found a tramp who offered to\nshow us the way to the Totling monastery.\n\nIn Langbo-nan I visited hastily the young abbot, as sympathetic and\ngood-natured as the year before, and at Chiu-gompa we met our old friend\nTundup Lama, fretful, melancholy, and weary of his lonely cloister life.\nLarge streams now emptied their water into both lakes, and with a\nfeeling of regret I left again the scene of so many precious memories.\n\nBefore we came to the monastery of Tirtapuri we had to cross several of\nthe rivers which bring their tribute from the Trans-Himalaya to the\nSutlej. Three of them were enormously swollen after the continuous\nrains, and rolled their volumes of greyish-brown foaming water over\ntreacherous blocks. It boiled and seethed between the cliffs, and it\ncarried along and overturned the slippery boulders. How I trembled in\nmortal anxiety lest the harvest so laboriously gathered in the last long\nwinter should all be lost by a single false step.\n\nWe came to the temple of Tirtapuri in pouring rain. Lobsang, Gulam,\nKutus, Tubges, Suen, and Kunchuk were to accompany me hence to Simla,\nbut Abdul Kerim and the other five received their pay and gratuities,\nand took their way home to Leh through Gartok. I did not know the road\nto Simla, but on the map it seemed to be nearer than to Ladak, and\ntherefore I expected that my party would arrive first at its\ndestination. But this road is very wild and romantic, and the land is\ndeeply excavated by the affluents of the Sutlej, and one might imagine\nthat one had suddenly been transported to the ca\u00f1ons of the Colorado.\nOne day we marched rapidly up an ascent of 3000 feet, and the next we\nwent down as far, so that the distance was at least double as great as\nit appeared on the map, and Abdul Kerim reached Leh long before I was\nnear Simla. Therefore the first news of us came from him, and not from\nmyself, and in some quarters the worst fears were entertained for my\nsafety. It seemed strange that my servants reached their home safe and\nsound while I myself was still missing.\n\n[Illustration: 385. MY PUPPY.]\n\n[Illustration: 386. TAKKAR IN HIS NEW HOME WITH THE MISSIONARIES IN\nPOO.]\n\nWe parted with floods of tears on August 1, and my party travelled past\nthe three monasteries, Dongbo, Dava, and Mangnang (Illust. 382), and\ncame to Totling-gompa on the 13th, near which Father Andrade, three\nhundred years ago, lodged in the now decayed town of Tsaparang. Here I\nmet the Hindu doctor Mohanlal, who gave me the first news of the outer\nworld. Through him I heard, with deep regret, of the death of King\nOscar, which had occurred more than eight months before. Mohanlal also\ninformed me of the growing unrest in India and of the anxiety my friends\nfelt on my account. Thakur Jai Chand had been instructed by the\nIndian Government to spare no efforts to find out whether I was still\nliving or not. He had sent out some Tibetan freebooters in various\ndirections, and promised 50 rupees to any one who could furnish any\ncertain information of my fate--this is the price he valued me at. Abdul\nKerim had reached Gartok in the best of health, and was summoned to the\nGarpun, who exclaimed: \"Your Sahib is a dreadful man; he will not be\nsatisfied until I lose my head!\" Old Hajji Nazer Shah, who had so\nconscientiously equipped my last caravan, had died the preceding winter.\n\nWhen we left Tokchen on July 24 we were delighted at the thought that we\nshould at every step be nearer to lower country and a denser and warmer\natmosphere. A month later we were at a greater height than at Tokchen,\nand saw the country covered with snow, and heard the hail patter on our\ndilapidated tents. But at Shipki we again set them up in a garden\ndressed in the rich beauty of summer, and heard the wind murmur in the\nspreading crowns of the apricot trees. Shipki is the last village in\nTibet. From this garden oasis begins the steep ascent to the Shipki-la,\nwhich is reached after attaining a height of six Eiffel Towers one upon\nanother. Here we stood on the frontier between Tibet and India. I turned\nand let my eyes roam once more over these awfully desolate and barren\nmountains where my dreams had been realized, and my lucky star had shed\na clearer and more friendly light than ever before. Farewell, home of\nwild asses and antelopes, holy land of the Tashi Lama, of Tso-mavang and\nthe Tsangpo, into whose mysterious valleys the stranger has found his\nway only by enduring two Arctic winters and by driving a flock of\nrefractory sheep! I seemed to take farewell of the best of my youth and\nthe finest chapter in the story of my life.\n\nOn August 28 we encamped in the village of Poo (Illusts. 383, 384), and\nI spent two memorable days in the hospitable house of the Moravian\nmissionaries. Messrs. Marx and Schnabel and their amiable families\noverwhelmed me with kindness, and now I was deluged with news from the\nouter world--it was like listening to the breakers on the coast of the\nocean. I had not seen a European for more than two years, and I looked\nmyself like a Tibetan footpad. But the missionaries rigged me out at\nonce in European summer clothes and set an Indian helmet on my head.\n\nA few days later we came to Kanam-gompa, where Alexander Csoma K\u00f6r\u00f6si\neighty years ago studied Lamaist learning as a monk, and more than any\none else communicated to the scholars of the West the occult mysteries\nof this religion. How silent and quiet our life had been up on the\nexpanse of Chang-tang! Now the dizzy depths of the valley are filled\nwith the roar of the falling stream, and the thunder of the water is\nre-echoed from the precipitous cliffs. How bare and scanty was the soil\nof Tibet, and now we listen daily to the whisper of mild breezes in the\ndeep dark coniferous forests that clothe the slopes of the Himalayas.\n\nStill lower runs the road, still warmer is the air. My trusty friend,\nbig shaggy Takkar, looks at me with questioning eyes. He loves not the\nsummer's perfumed garlands nor the variegated zone of meadows. He\nremembers the free life on the open plains, he misses the fights with\nthe wolves of the wilderness, and he dreams of the land of everlasting\nsnowstorms. One day we saw him drink of a spring which poured its water\nacross the path, and then lie down in the cool shade of the forest. He\nhad done so many times before, but we should never see him repeat it. He\nturned and galloped up towards lonely Tibet. He parted with sorrow in\nhis heart from his old master, I knew; but he thought he would ask the\nmissionaries in Poo to send me a greeting. One morning he was found\nlying outside the gate to the court of the Mission-house, and, true to\nhis old habit, he would let no one go in or out. He was hospitably\nreceived, and started a new life with a chain round his neck. I still\nreceive from time to time, through Mr. Marx, greetings from old Takkar,\nwho so faithfully defended my tent when I travelled in disguise through\nhis own country (Illust. 386).\n\n[Illustration: 387. SIMLA.]\n\nIn the Club des Asiatiques in Paris I once dined with Madame Massieu,\nwho has accomplished so many wonderful journeys in Asia. Roland\nBonaparte and Henry of Orl\u00e9ans were present, as I vividly remembered\nwhen on September 7 I met the far-travelled Parisian lady in the\nstation-house of Taranda. We had much to talk about when we contributed\nto the cost of a common dinner. Untouched by years, youthful and\nenthusiastic, Madame Massieu afterwards undertook a bold journey to\nKhatmandu.\n\nWith growing uneasiness I approached the hour when, after nearly a\nyear's complete silence, I was again to receive letters from home, and I\nwondered whether I should break them open and read them without any\ncause for sorrow. The post met me at Gaura on September 9. I read all\nthe evening, all night, and all the following day, and I was able to\ntake the last days' journey to Simla in comfort, for I was spared any\nuntoward news and knew that all was well at home. Now the wind whispered\nmore gently than ever in the Himalayan cedars, and the roar of the\nSutlej sounded like the roll of drums in a triumphal march.\n\nIn Kotgar I was present at evensong in the missionaries' church. How\nstrange to hear again the soft soothing tones of the organ, and as an\nunworthy Christian pilgrim in a Christian temple remember the solitude\nof the past years.\n\nThe following day I marched along the road in the company of my men for\nthe last time, for near Narkanda a rickshaw met me, sent by Colonel\nDunlop Smith. I left them, to hurry on without delay, while they were to\nfollow in the usual order of march. How pleasant to lean against the\nback of the little two-wheeled vehicle and roll away at a rapid pace\nunder the shady canopy of the deodars!\n\nSeptember 15 was a great day for me. I stayed at the bungalow of Fagu,\nand this camp, where I was quite alone, was No. 499. Simla, therefore,\nwould be 500. It felt very strange to stand on the boundary between the\nwilderness and the most refined civilization. At the breastwork of the\nexcellent carriage-road sat a gentleman in his rickshaw; it was my\nfriend Mr. Edward Buck, Reuter's correspondent. This is the beginning, I\nthought; and on I went on this last day's journey. The fine imposing\ntown appears in the distance on the slopes of its hills and the white\nhouses peep out from among the trees (Illust. 387). A young maiden takes\na snap of us with her camera, but it is early in the morning, and\nwithout further adventures we take refuge at a gentleman's outfitters,\nfor in spite of the clothes from Poo I must undergo a complete\nrenovation before I can present myself before the doors of the Viceregal\nLodge.\n\nWhat a total contrast to the lonely life I had led for two long years!\nOn September 16 a State ball took place, and I heard again the crunching\nsound on the sand of the court as innumerable rickshaws bore guests to\nthe ball. Rustling silk, glittering jewels, brilliant uniforms--in an\nunbroken line the _\u00e9lite_ of Simla pass between satellites with their\ntall turbans and shining lances. God save the King! Followed by their\nstaff Their Excellencies enter, and open the dance to the notes of a\nwaltz of Strauss. It was just as in May 1906, and the twenty-eight\nmonths that had intervened seemed to me like a strange fantastic dream.\n\nThe first days I stayed in the house of my noble old friend Colonel\nDunlop Smith, and had now an opportunity of thanking him and his amiable\nladies for the trouble they had taken in connection with the consignment\nto Gartok the year before. Then I moved over to the Viceregal Lodge, and\nagain enjoyed the same boundless hospitality of Lord and Lady Minto.\nFrom my window I saw again, sharp and clear, the crests of the\nHimalayas, and beyond the mountains and valleys of Tibet stretched out\nin a boundless sea. What wealth and luxury! I lived like a prince,\nwalked on soft rugs and meditated, lay and read Swedish journals in a\ndeep soft bed, by electric light, and bathed in a porcelain bath,\nattended by Hindus in the viceregal livery--I who had lately gone in\nrags and tended sheep.\n\n[Illustration: 388. THE LAST MEMBERS OF THE EXPEDITION AT THE ENTRANCE\nOF THE VICEREGAL LODGE IN SIMLA.]\n\nOn September 24 a hundred and fifty ladies and gentlemen in full dress\nwere assembled in the State room in the Viceregal Lodge. The occasion\nwas a lecture, and on the dais hung with gold-embroidered brocade, where\nthe thrones usually stand, was set up a large map of Tibet. The front\nseats were occupied by the Commander-in-Chief of the Indian Army, Lord\nKitchener of Khartum, the Governor of the Panjab, the Maharajas of Alwar\nand Gwalior; and among the guests might be seen generals and superior\nofficers, State secretaries, men of science, and members of the\ndiplomatic corps then present in Simla. The Military Secretary, Colonel\nVictor Brooke, came forward and announced the arrival of the Viceroy and\nLady Minto. I was trembling with stage fright, but before I knew\nanything about it, my opening words, \"Your Excellencies, Ladies and\nGentlemen,\" sounded through the brilliant saloon, and then followed an\naccount of my last journey. It was one o'clock in the morning before I\nconcluded, and after a most flattering speech from Lord Minto the guests\nwithdrew to the late supper.\n\nMy six Ladakis and our seven remaining animals stayed in a _serai_ below\nthe palace. I often went and talked to them, and played a while with my\nold travelling companion Little Puppy. But the time passed quickly, and\nsoon the last day came. I embraced and squeezed Little Puppy, stroked\nhis head, and found it hard to tear myself away. He was put out by his\nmaster's elegant costume, and had a melancholy questioning expression,\nas though he suspected that the bond between us was loosed, and that we\nshould never see each other again. We had shared everything in common\nfrom the time he was born below the snowy Karakorum pass, and to part\nfrom dogs is the hardest trial of all; to bid men farewell is not so\ndistressing.\n\nAt our arrival in Simla I had given them 60 rupees each for new\nclothing, and in the bazaar they had found some old cast-off uniforms\nwith bright metal buttons, which they thought grand and becoming. On the\nneck lappets were the words \"Guard, London S.W. Railway,\" and how they\nfound their way to India I do not know. But in these uniforms and in red\nfezzes my men assembled in the palace court on the last day of\nSeptember (Illust. 388). They were allowed to keep our seven horses and\nmules, saddles, tents, skin coats, bed furniture, and everything. My\nwhite horse they were to sell in Leh and divide the price. Gulam took\ncharge of Little Puppy, and undertook to see that he did not suffer want\nin the future--it was like breaking up an old home. Besides his pay,\nevery man received a present of 100 rupees, and their expenses to Leh\nfour times over. Lord and Lady Minto were present at the last farewell,\nand the Viceroy made them a short, cheery speech. It was a sad parting,\nand even the calm Lobsang, who was amazed at the wealth and splendour of\nSimla, wept like a child as with heavy step he followed his comrades\ndown to their waiting animals. \"What faithfulness! what devotion!\"\nexclaimed Lady Minto with feeling; \"their tears are more expressive than\nwords.\"\n\nAt the beginning of October the Viceroy and Lady Minto set out on an\nexcursion into the mountains, and after a hearty farewell and warm\nthanks for all the kindness they had showered on me, I remained lonely\nand forlorn in the great palace. My steamer would not leave Bombay for a\nweek, and I was delighted to be the guest of Lord Kitchener in his\nresidence, Snowdon, during the five days I was yet to stay in Simla. I\nshall never forget these days. My room was decorated with flowers, and\non a table stood fourteen books on Tibet, chosen from the General's\nlibrary to supply me with entertaining reading. With the aides-de-camp\nCaptains Wyllie and Basset, merry fellows and good comrades, we lived\nlike four bachelors, took breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, and\nspent the evening in the billiard-room, on the mantelpiece of which was\nthe appropriate motto, \"Strike, and fear not.\"\n\nIn the afternoon the General took me out along the road leading to\nTibet. We then talked of the future of Europe in Asia and Africa, and I\ngained a greater insight than I had ever done before into Lord\nKitchener's life and work in Egypt.\n\nBut the days at Snowdon also came to an end, and on October 11, when the\npeople were flocking to church, I was driven by the victor of Africa to\nthe station, where I took a last farewell of the man for whose exploits\nI have always felt a boundless admiration. At Summerhill station, below\nthe Viceregal Lodge, I exchanged a last shake of the hand with my dear\nfriend Dunlop Smith, and then the white houses of Simla vanished in the\ndistance, and the train rolled down to the heat of India and the great\nlonely sea.\n\n\n[Illustration: THE SOURCES OF THE BRAHMAPUTRA, SUTLEJ, AND INDUS\n\n By Dr. Sven Hedin.]\n\n[Illustration: A MAP OF TRANS-HIMALAYA\n\n By Dr. SVEN HEDIN]\n\n[Illustration: A MAP OF TIBET SHOWING DR. SVEN HEDIN'S ROUTES 1906-1908.]\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n Abbot, a twelve-year-old, ii. 163\n\n Abdul Kerim, my caravan leader, ii. 226;\n error of, as to forage, 241;\n assumes r\u00f4le of master of caravan, 291, 344;\n ideas as to the time of day, 302;\n despatched in charge of second division of caravan to the Tarok-tso,\n 371;\n anxiety as to whereabouts of, 396;\n arrives at our camp at Ratse, 399;\n bid farewell to, with other five of my followers, 416\n\n Absi, peak of the Kubi-gangri, ii. 102\n\n Abuk-la pass, ii. 396\n\n Adam, Colonel, military secretary to the Viceroy, i. 16\n\n Age, average, of caravan, i. 53\n\n \"Aid,\" Mohammedan festival celebrated in camp, i. 191\n\n Aksai-chin, lake, unannexed region of, i. 93, 95, 98; ii. 258\n\n Alchi, dangerous bridge at, i. 44\n\n Alexander the Great, i. 3; ii. 213\n\n Amban Lien Y\u00fc, of Lhasa, i. 393, 400\n\n Amchen-la pass, ii. 396\n\n Amchi-lama (monk-doctor), tent-temple of, ii. 296\n\n Amchok-tang, plain, ii. 36\n\n Amchok-tso, lake, ii. 36;\n camp at, 37;\n shallowness of, 38;\n soundings on, 39\n\n Amchok-yung, village of, ii. 36\n\n Amchung country, interesting information acquired in, ii. 325\n\n Amitabha, the Tashi Lama the incarnation of, i. 326\n\n Amusements, Tibetan, i. 341\n\n Anchar, lake, i. 32\n\n Angden-la pass, cairn with prayer-streamers on, ii. 34;\n panoramic view from, 35;\n not situated on same range as the Samye-la, 330\n\n Angsi-chu, river, ii. 104\n\n \"Antelope Plain,\" name given by Captain Deasy, i. 142\n\n Antelopes, i. 92, 114, 175, 186; ii. 36, 262, 282;\n method of snaring, i. 119; ii. 274\n\n Aong-tsangpo, river, ii. 399\n\n Archery and shooting competitions on horseback, i. 343\n\n Argok-tso, lake, ii. 400\n\n Arnold, _The Light of Asia_, quotation from, ii. 206\n\n Arport-tso, lake, crossing of ice of, ii. 263\n\n Arung-kampa, deserted village of, i. 280\n\n Asses, wild, upright position of frozen, ii. 95;\n great herds met with, 285\n\n Atkinson, Mr. E. T., work by, cited, ii. 402\n\n\n Bailey, Lieutenant, Acting Resident at Gyangtse, i. 255\n\n Balls, State, in Simla, i. 17; ii. 420\n\n Baltal, i. 38\n\n Bando, camp at, ii. 83\n\n Barley, roasted, a delicacy, ii. 14\n\n Barong-la pass, ii. 30\n\n Basang valley, camp in, ii. 46\n\n Basgho-gompa, monastery, i. 44\n\n Bed, method of making my, i. 150\n\n Ben-la pass, storm on, ii. 34\n\n Besant, Mrs. Annie, i. 30\n\n Bibles, the Tibetan, in library of Tashi-lunpo, i. 333;\n in Tashi-gembe, 412\n\n Biographical details of caravan, i. 151-153\n\n Birch bark, dream suggested by, ii. 95\n\n Boat, our portable, i. 28;\n successful trip of, 107;\n description of Tibetan, 288\n\n Bogtsang-tsangpo, the, camp at, i. 205;\n interview with chief of district, 205;\n geographical information obtained, 206;\n erratic course of, 207\n\n Bokar valley, ii. 212\n\n _Bombo_, or district chief, i. 262\n\n Bongba, province of, ii. 304;\n tension of journey through the, 312;\n names of the twelve districts of, 388\n\n Bongba-changma, district of, ii. 304\n\n Bongba-chushar, district of, ii. 379\n\n Bongba-kebyang, district of, ii. 388\n\n Bongba-kemar, district of, ii. 324, 389\n\n Bongba-kyangrang, high-road to Lapchung through, ii. 387\n\n Brahmaputra, the, valley of, i. 281;\n welcome news received at, 282;\n monasteries of, 282;\n confluence of the Chaktak-tsangpo with, ii. 48;\n measurements and ratios, 49;\n junction of the Tsa-chu-tsangpo\n with, and measurements, 74;\n possible diversion of, 78;\n varying volume of, 88;\n Nain Sing on its sources, 89;\n Webber's confusing statement as to the origin of, 89;\n Ryder's map of valley of upper, 90;\n source-streams of, 90-95;\n author's determination of its source in Kubi-gangri, 96, 101;\n we bid farewell to, 105\n\n British Government, change of, i. 4;\n refuse permission to enter Tibet from India, 7, 388;\n cautious policy of, 10, 395\n\n Buck, Mr. Edward, ii. 219, 419\n\n Buddha, stone figures of, at Dras, i. 39;\n posture of, in statues and pictures, ii. 10\n\n Buddhism, introduced into Tibet, i. 312;\n preservation of life a fundamental principle of, 312\n\n Buka-magna, mountain system, i. 164\n\n Bumnak-chu, river, ii. 22\n\n Bup-chu-tsangpo, river, sources of, i. 276\n\n Buptsang-tsangpo, river, ii. 325;\n scenery of, 326;\n its headwaters, 327;\n camp by the, 389\n\n Bupyung-ring valley, beauty of, ii. 327\n\n Burrard, Colonel S. G., on drainage area of the Sutlej, ii. 187;\n book by Hayden and, mentioned, 404;\n disapproves of author's use of the name Trans-Himalaya, 412\n\n Burroughs & Wellcome, London, medicine-chest presented by, i. 29, 172;\n my offering to the Tashi Lama, 316; ii. 40\n\n Buser-tsangpo, river, ii. 261\n\n\n \"Call of the wilderness,\" the, i. 1\n\n Calvert, Mr., crosses Jukti-la pass, ii. 215, 403\n\n Camp, our first, i. 33\n\n Camp life, routine of our, i. 150;\n Tibetan, ii. 387\n\n Campbell-Bannerman, Sir Henry, i. 4;\n telegrams sent by author to, 8, 390\n\n Candles, Christmas-tree of, i. 219\n\n Caravan, our, equipment of, i. 28, 53;\n troublesome members, 38;\n biographical details, 151-153;\n rearrangement of, 166;\n home-sickness in, ii. 62, 67;\n three members dismissed, 69;\n their reinstatement, 73;\n reduction at Tokchen, 107;\n reorganization of, 110;\n preparation of new, for fresh expedition, 211, 226, 228;\n heavy baggage sent back to Leh, 229;\n parting with Robert and Rub Das, 229;\n Mohammedan festival, 260;\n losses and sickness, 265;\n superfluous baggage sacrificed, 269, 279, 282;\n directions to, 274;\n my hiding-place in, 345;\n festivities in honour of Governor of Saka, 368;\n divided into two parties, 371;\n combined again, 400;\n parting with my caravan leader and companions, 416;\n farewell to remainder of followers in Simla, 422\n\n Cassels, Mr., present of tea from, ii. 179\n\n Chabuk-tso, lake, ii. 322\n\n Chak-chom-la pass, i. 191\n\n Chakko, holy spring, miraculous powers attributed to, ii. 106\n\n Chaklam-la pass, ii. 308\n\n Chaktak-tsangpo, river, ii. 45;\n preparations for excursion to, 47;\n confluence with the Brahmaputra, 48;\n measurements and ratios, 49, 65;\n journey northwards along, 65;\n camp again on, 335;\n eastward march along north bank of, 337;\n return to, 374\n\n Chamo-lung-chen valley, ii. 193\n\n _Chang_, or native beer, i. 68\n\n Changa, village of, i. 63\n\n Chang-chenmo valley, bivouac at, i. 79; ii. 233\n\n Chang-la pass, i. 64; altar with prayer-streamers on summit of, 66\n\n Chang-la-Pod-la pass, meaning of the term, ii. 19;\n camp on, 20\n\n Chang-lung-barma valley, i. 81\n\n Chang-lung-yogma valley, i. 81, 84;\n difficulties in, 82;\n camp and rest in, 82;\n sunshine and snow, 83;\n magnificent landscape of, 85\n\n Changpas, Tibetan nomads, i. 119;\n friendliness of, 182, 188;\n habits and tastes, 184;\n skill in hunting, 185;\n hard life of, 186;\n disposal of their dead, 187\n\n Chang-shung, a headwater of the Raga-tsangpo, ii. 41\n\n Chang-tang, the, desperate situation in, i. 163;\n our successful crossing of, 210\n\n Chang Yin Tang, Chinese Commissioner in Tibet, correspondence with, i.\n 393, 397; ii. 42, 70\n\n Chapka-la pass, i. 259\n\n Charvak, camp at, ii. 234\n\n Chega-gompa temple, i. 280\n\n Chema-yundung, river, ii. 90, 103;\n measurement of discharge, 91\n\n Chema-yundung-pu, heights of, ii. 92\n\n Chenmo, _kotidar_ of Tankse, i. 73, 87\n\n Chergip-gompa monastery, its single monk, ii. 165\n\n Cherok, district of, ii. 88\n\n Chesang-la pass, intense cold on, i. 274\n\n _Chhorten_, or stone monument, i. 42\n\n Chi Chao Nan, translation of passage from his work on source of the\n Sutlej, ii. 183;\n accuracy of his statements, 183\n\n Chikum, view from camp at, ii. 83\n\n Chimre monastery, i. 64\n\n Chinese Government, messages from, i. 389, 391;\n importance of supremacy in Tibet to the, 396;\n specimen of diplomatic\n correspondence, 397;\n courtesy of officials to author, 400\n\n Chinese passport, efficacy of my, i. 299\n\n Chini-chikang, nuns' temporary quarters, Tashi-lunpo, i. 357\n\n Chiptu-la pass, pilgrim route over, ii. 388\n\n Chiu-gompa monastery, visits to, ii. 159, 415\n\n Chockar-shung-chu valley, ii. 75\n\n Chokchu, caravan bound for, met with, i. 270;\n the Governor of, ii. 399\n\n Choma-taka, cave of, ii. 18\n\n Chomo-sumdo valley, camp in, ii. 16\n\n Chomo-uchong, \"High Nun,\" ridge of, ii. 41, 333, 344, 362\n\n Chong-yangal, camp at, ii. 232\n\n Christmas, our celebration of, i. 219;\n Ladaki hymn and dances at, 220;\n translation of hymn sung at, 221;\n comparison of different years, ii. 248\n\n Chugge-lung valley, i. 271\n\n Chungsang, a tributary of the Tsangpo, ii. 45\n\n Chunit-tso, lake, ii. 322, 387;\n warm sulphur spring at, 323\n\n Church festivals, Lamaist, i. 301\n\n Churu pool, camp at, ii. 67\n\n Chuta district, sulphurous springs in, i. 82\n\n Chykying, the Gova of, ii. 314, 316\n\n Cleanliness, Ladakis' contempt for, i. 150\n\n Cockburn's Agency, assistance in furnishing and transport, i. 28\n\n Consul of Nepal, the, i. 304, 375\n\n Correspondence, arrangements for forwarding, i. 72, 83, 87, 103;\n welcome arrival of, at the Ngangtse-tso, 254;\n and at Shigatse, 377\n\n _Corv\u00e9e_, system of, exacted on Tibetan high-roads, ii. 328\n\n \"Cripple,\" our faithful canine follower, i. 263\n\n Crosby, expedition of, referred to, i. 98\n\n Curzon, Lord, encouraging letter from, i. 3;\n leaves India, 4;\n on author's use of name Trans-Himalaya, ii. 413\n\n\n Dagtse-tso, i. 217\n\n Dahlgren, Dr. E. W., statement by, as to wall-maps in Venice, ii. 406\n\n Dalai Lama (Gyalpo Rinpoche), cowardly flight of, i. 244, 306;\n his sphere compared with that of the Tashi Lama, 323;\n disastrous policy of, 323\n\n Dal-dervaseh, canal journey from, i. 32\n\n Dalgleish, Mr., monument to, in Leh, i. 59\n\n Dambak-rong, valley junction, ii. 70;\n letter from the Tang Darin received at, 70\n\n Dam-chu, river, ii. 181\n\n Damm valley, ii. 79\n\n _Dandy_, or average man's load, i. 166\n\n Dane, Sir Louis, interview with, i. 7, 11\n\n Dangbe-chu, river, i. 276\n\n Dangbe-la pass, i. 277\n\n Dangra-yum-tso, lake, permission to visit, refused, i. 247, 251;\n reputed salinity of, ii. 29;\n shape and extent of, 29;\n pilgrim routes round, 29;\n Nain Sing's nomenclature of district, 30;\n proposed dash for, 382\n\n D'Anville, maps by, referred to, ii. 185, 186, 337, 401\n\n Dapsang, on the heights of, ii. 248;\n Christmas box for the animals at, 251\n\n Daya Kishen Kaul, private secretary to Maharaja of Kashmir, assistance\n rendered by, i. 24, 28\n\n Dead, barbarous disposal of the, i. 370\n\n Deane, Sir Harold, i. 15\n\n Deasy, Captain, \"Fever Camp\" of, i. 120;\n baggage and provisions left by, at Yeshil-kul, 128\n\n \"Deasy Group,\" mountain mass, i. 131, 138\n\n Dena-lhakang temple, Tashi-lunpo, i. 364\n\n Dentistry, drastic form of, ii. 324\n\n Devashung. _See_ Tibetan Government\n\n Devotional exercises of pilgrims, Tashi-lunpo, i. 357\n\n Dicha-la pass, importance of watershed, ii. 375\n\n _Dikpa-karnak_, or test-stone for sinners, ii. 195\n\n Ding-la, the highest pass crossed in our journey, ii. 400\n\n Dinner, State, at Simla, i. 12\n\n Diri-pu monastery, my tent pitched on roof of, ii. 193\n\n Disguise, assumed by author, ii. 277\n\n Dogs: puppies taken with party, i. 34;\n frolics of, 37, 62, 69, 74, 143, 154; ii. 34, 41;\n from Pobrang added to caravan, i. 74;\n deserted by one of our, 78;\n a splendid feast, 108;\n loss of two, 259;\n two new followers, 263;\n an interesting event, 399;\n illness and deaths of, ii. 65, 67, 73, 251;\n another happy event, 238;\n loss of Brown Puppy, 293, 301;\n purchase of Takkar, 305;\n Little Puppy's first experience of running water, 314;\n Takkar's avowal of affection, 319;\n a sorrowful parting, 419\n\n Dojas-chimbo, court in Tashi-lunpo, i. 308\n\n Dokang valley, camp in, i. 279;\n Tibetan politeness in, 280\n\n Dok-chu (Raga-tsangpo), river, voyage through rapids of, i. 418;\n its confluence with the Brahmaputra, 419;\n rock-drawings in valley of, 422;\n junction with the My-chu, 422;\n head sources of, ii. 41\n\n D\u00f6lchu-gompa monastery, mentioned, ii. 182, 187\n\n D\u00f6le-gompa nunnery, i. 429\n\n Dolma-la pass, pilgrim offerings on, ii. 200\n\n Dongchen-la pass, wild sheep on the, ii. 380\n\n Dongdong, glaciers of the, ii. 92;\n peaks of the, 103\n\n Dongmo-chu, river, ii. 39\n\n Dopserma, island of the Langak-tso, ii. 178\n\n Dorab-la pass, ii. 75\n\n _Dorche_, or emblem of thunderbolt, i. 318\n\n Dorche Tsuen, Governor of Saka-dzong, discussion of my return route\n with, ii. 355-359, 364;\n camp festivities in honour of, 368;\n bid farewell to, 370\n\n Do-tsengkan, mountain, ii. 33\n\n Dras, river, i. 39;\n stone figures of Buddha near, i. 39;\n junction with the Wakkha, 40\n\n Drugub, i. 67;\n our new caravan at, ii. 226;\n salt-caravan at, 228\n\n Dsabo, title of official in Chagha, i. 416\n\n Dsalung-la pass, importance of, ii. 388\n\n Duan Suen, Chinese official in Shigatse, i. 298, 388\n\n Duff, General Sir Beauchamp, i. 16\n\n Dufour, map by, ii. 406\n\n Dumbok-tso, lake, i. 219\n\n Dunglung valley, ii. 193\n\n Dunglung-do, valley junction, ii. 193\n\n Dungtsa-tso, lake, our camp visited by Tibetans at, i. 192\n\n Dung-yeilak, oasis of, ii. 233\n\n Dunka-la pass, view of the Shuru-tso from, ii. 34\n\n Dunlop Smith, Colonel J. R., private secretary to Viceroy, i. 11;\n arranges as to my correspondence, 103;\n letter to, from Tokchen, ii. 107;\n consignment from, reaches Gartok, 223;\n hospitality in Simla, 420;\n good-bye to, 423\n\n _Dupkang_, or hermitage, ii. 2\n\n Dutreuil de Rhins, French explorer, i. 46, 47, 199\n\n _Dzong_, or town with resident governor, i. 245\n\n Dzundi village, medicinal springs at, i. 283\n\n\n Eagles, i. 209\n\n Earthquake at Selipuk, ii. 399\n\n Eclipse of the sun, incidents of the, i. 252\n\n Electricity, generation of, by driftsand, ii. 300\n\n Elephant, a unique, i. 336\n\n Emir Sing, brother of Maharaja of Kashmir, i. 26\n\n Equipment of caravan, i. 28, 53; ii. 211\n\n Escort, our Pathan and Rajput, i. 28;\n our Tibetan, 404, 424;\n inspection of, ii. 16;\n fresh, from Kyangdam, 21;\n route discussed with, 21;\n the Governor of Saka-dzong supplies military, 365\n\n Espionage, system of, i. 379\n\n Europeans, Tibetan distrust of, i. 201;\n iron statues of, in Tashi-gembe monastery, 413;\n increased stringency of regulations regarding, ii. 356\n\n\n Fagu, bungalow of, ii. 419\n\n Family ties, looseness of Tibetan, i. 373\n\n Field-mice, treacherous holes of, i. 92, 96, 147, 215, 223; ii. 332,\n 397\n\n Fireworks, display of, at Srinagar, i. 27\n\n Food supplies, calculations and estimates of, i. 73\n\n Fox, surprise of a, i. 148\n\n Francke, Pastor A. H., i. 54\n\n _Frithiof's Saga_, quotation from, ii. 11\n\n Fr\u00f6ding, quotation from, ii. 6\n\n Frost-bite, heartless desertion of victim of, ii. 240\n\n Funeral customs, gruesome, i. 369\n\n\n Game, abundance of, i. 177, 205; ii. 50\n\n Gand\u00e4n-ch\u00f6ding, nunnery of, i. 410\n\n Gandarbal, first camp at, i. 33;\n departure of caravan from, 35\n\n Gang-lung, mountain, ii. 109, 129\n\n Gang-lung-chu, river, ii. 105, 129\n\n Ganglung-gangri range, direction of, ii. 395\n\n Ganjevan, i. 36\n\n Ganju-gompa monastery, ii. 86\n\n Ganju-la pass, ii. 86\n\n _Gao_, or small case with figure of Buddha, i. 247\n\n Gara-la pass, ii. 366\n\n Gar-gunsa, arrival at, ii. 219;\n misleading reports intentionally spread at, 219;\n plans formed at, 222;\n arrival of consignment from India, 233;\n leave for Tankse, 224\n\n Gartok, men and baggage sent to, from Tokchen, ii. 107;\n main caravan sent to, from Khaleb, 208;\n letters received at, 215;\n visit to the Garpuns of, 215;\n friendly letter from Lien Darin at, 216;\n consultation with Gulam Razul at, 217;\n plans considered, and return to Ladak resolved on, 218;\n leave for Gar-gunsa, 219\n\n Gaura, letters from home received at, ii. 419\n\n Gave-ting, massive of Kubi-gangri, ii. 101, 103\n\n Gaw Daloi, Chinese Agent at Gyangtse, i. 388;\n correspondence with, 390, 392\n\n Gazelles, Goa, i. 240\n\n Gebuk-chu, confluence of, with the Chak-tak-tsangpo, ii. 337\n\n Gebuk-la pass, ii. 341\n\n Gebuk-yung, district of, ii. 339\n\n Geese, wild, flock of, i. 166;\n habits of, 167, 168;\n migrations of, ii. 321;\n Tibetan reverence for, 362\n\n _Gelong_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n \"Gelugpa,\" monastic sect founded by Tsong Kapa, i. 335\n\n Gertse, nomads from, i. 179, 184, 192; ii. 285;\n their distrust of each other, i. 193;\n house of chief of, ii. 296\n\n Getsa-rung, gold placer of, ii. 276\n\n _Getsul_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n Ghe, bivouac at, and escort changed, i. 424\n\n Goa-la pass, ii. 387\n\n Goa-lung valley, ii. 387\n\n Goang-shung, guides obtained at, ii. 392\n\n Goang-tso, lake, i. 217\n\n Goats, taken with caravan for milk, i. 74\n\n Gobrang, ridge of, i. 206\n\n Gogra, camp at, i. 81\n\n Gold, traces of search for, i. 174, 188;\n placers, ii. 276, 284\n\n Gomo-selung country, i. 179\n\n Gompa-sarpa, cemetery of Shigatse, i. 369\n\n Gossul-gompa monastery, ii. 122, 135;\n novices in, 145;\n _lhakang_ of, 146;\n Somchung, apartment in, 146;\n view from roof, 148\n\n _Gova_, or district chief, i. 205\n\n Governors, dual, Tibetan system of, ii. 354\n\n Govo, village of, ii. 14\n\n Govo-tsangpo, river, ii. 13\n\n Gr\u00fcnwedel, work on Buddhistic mythology by, i. 329 _n._\n\n Gubuk-gompa monastery, ii. 80\n\n Guffaru, old, i. 52, 72, 81, 215; ii. 40;\n appointed caravan leader on Muhamed Isa's death, 59;\n returns home with thirteen members of caravan, 107;\n safe arrival at Gartok, 144\n\n Guide, vagaries of our, i. 428\n\n Gulam Kadir, son of Nazer Shah, assistance rendered in Shigatse by, i.\n 377, 384\n\n Gulam Razul, son of Nazer Shah, valuable services of, i. 56; ii.\n 217-221;\n honours conferred on, i. 56; ii. 221\n\n Gunda-tammo, nunnery of, i. 423\n\n Gunsang Ngurbu, a centenarian hermit, ii. 18\n\n Gunt, camp at, i. 37\n\n Gurkang-pu valley, ii. 80\n\n Gurla Mandatta, mountain group, ii. 104, 106, 111, 112;\n varying aspects of, 114 ff.;\n denudation cones, 157\n\n Gyalpo Rinpoche, \"the Precious King.\" _See_ Dalai Lama\n\n Gyang-chu, river, ii. 88\n\n Gyangtse, letters despatched to, i. 260;\n message from Chinese Agent at, 388;\n Muhamed Isa's mission to, 391, 396\n\n Gyebuk-la pass, important trade route, ii. 47;\n view from, 48\n\n Gyegong valley, camp in, ii. 371\n\n Gyegong-la pass, ii. 372\n\n Gye-la pass, ii. 361\n\n Gyenor-tsangpo, river, ii. 392\n\n Gyuma-chu, river, ii. 162\n\n\n Hajji Baba, name assumed by author, ii. 275\n\n Hamdung, wandering lamas' quarters in Tashi-lunpo, i. 357\n\n Hastings, Warren, embassies to the Tashi Lama from, i. 321, 334\n\n Hawkes, General, i. 16\n\n Hemis, temple of, near Changa, i. 63\n\n Hermit, cell of, near Linga-gompa, ii. 2;\n his heroic vow, 3;\n his prayers for the sick, 4;\n ceremony of seclusion, 5;\n quotation from Fr\u00f6ding, 6;\n living death of, 7, 10;\n caves of, at Nyang-t\u00f6-ki-pu, 8;\n Waddell on practice of seclusion for life, 9;\n last offices, 10;\n a centenarian, 18\n\n Himalayas, the, view of, from the Ta-la, i. 278;\n from the Angden-la, ii. 35;\n from the Serchung-la, 69\n\n Hiraman, an old friend, i. 67, 73, 75\n\n Hlabsen Dorche Barva, god of Tso-mavang, ii. 131\n\n Hlaje Tsering. _See_ Naktsang, Governor of\n\n Hle-lungpa valley, ii. 193\n\n Hlindug-ling, i. 289\n\n Hodgson, map by, ii. 401\n\n Home-sickness in caravan, ii. 62, 67\n\n \"Horse years,\" periods in Tibetan cycle of time, ii. 190\n\n Horses, purchase and numbering of, i. 49;\n qualities of different breeds, 49;\n auxiliary caravan of, hired from Tankse, 50, 67;\n trouble with, on leaving Leh, 61;\n first loss of, 75;\n field-mice holes dangerous for, 92, 96; ii. 397;\n Ladaki consideration for dying, i. 93;\n stampede of, 99, 139, 178; ii. 30;\n mortality among, i. 101-103, 135, 138, 149, 162, 181; ii. 265;\n diet of Tibetan, i. 190;\n mules compared with, 198;\n death of my dapple-grey, 218;\n splendid condition of our Tibetan, 265;\n survivors at Shigatse, 297;\n our veterans, ii. 220, 229;\n my white Ladaki, 229, 265, 273;\n enormous wastage of, 240;\n Christmas box for our, 251;\n death of brown Shigatse, 264;\n and of my faithful white Ladaki, 279\n\n Ho Tsao Hsing, secretary to the Tang Darin, ii. 70\n\n House, description of Tibetan stone, ii. 14;\n domestic utensils and possessions, 15\n\n House-boats near Gandarbal, i. 33\n\n Huc, Abb\u00e9, book on Tibet by, ii. 402\n\n Hymn, Tibetan, translation of, i. 221;\n wonderful chanting of, in Tashi-lunpo, 308\n\n\n Ice, nomads' distrust of the, i. 224, 227;\n singular formations of, on the Ngangtse-tso, 227\n\n Idar, the Maharaja of, i. 15\n\n Illness of author, i. 172\n\n Images, manufacture of, in Tashi-lunpo, i. 368\n\n Immurement, voluntary, of monks, i. 363; ii. 2, 8. _See_ Hermit\n\n Impressions in stone, i. 337, 406\n\n India, the Tashi Lama's visit to, i. 321\n\n Indian Government, the, sympathy of, i. 9;\n instructions of, as to author's passport, 25, 26\n\n Indus, the, previous search for rise of, i. 3;\n crossed beyond Lamayuru, 43;\n start for the source, ii. 208;\n guide and sheep hired, 210;\n discovery of source of, 212, 213;\n mental picture of its course, 213;\n justifiable feelings, 214\n\n Instruments, scientific, taken on expedition, i. 29\n\n\n Jackdaws, flock of, at the Shemen-tso, ii. 272\n\n Janglung, district of, ii. 313\n\n Japanese Embassy, representations on my behalf at Pekin by, i. 391\n\n Jera, camp at, i. 44\n\n Jukti-la pass, ii. 215\n\n\n Kabbalo, camp at, i. 279\n\n _Kachen_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n _Kadakh_, long narrow piece of white silk, i. 310\n\n Kadsung valley, i. 80\n\n Kailas, \"the holy mountain,\" views of, ii. 106, 111, 112, 181 ff.;\n set out on pilgrimage round, 189;\n Nyandi-gompa, 190;\n pilgrims on the way, 192, 197;\n Diri-pu monastery, 193;\n test-stone for sinners, 195;\n universal Tibetan reverence for, 196;\n the most famous mountain in the world, 198;\n prostration pilgrimage described, 199;\n pilgrims' performance at Dung-chapje, 200;\n offerings on the Dolma-la, 201;\n Tsumtul-pu monastery, 202\n\n Ka-la pass, view of, ii. 396\n\n Kali-Gandak, river, ii. 78\n\n _Kalun_, or high official, i. 201\n\n Kamba-sumdo, ii. 41\n\n Kamba Tsenam, tent-encampment belonging to, ii. 339;\n offer of guide declined, 341;\n nocturnal visit to my tent, 366;\n boastful talk of, 367;\n \"father of the robbers,\" 367;\n enormous tent of, 367;\n good-bye to, 372\n\n Kamchung-chu, name of upper Chaktak-tsangpo, ii. 337\n\n Kam-la pass, i. 213\n\n _Kampo Lama_, or abbot, i. 351\n\n Kanchung-gangri range, ii. 372, 374, 375\n\n Kando-sanglam valley, view of Kailas through, ii. 202\n\n Kangan, tents pitched at, i. 36\n\n Kanglung-bupchu, river, ii. 46\n\n Kanglung-la pass, tiresome ascent to, ii. 45\n\n Kang-rinpoche. _See_ Kailas\n\n Kangsham-tsangpo, river, unpleasant crossing of, ii. 306\n\n Kanjur-lhakang, library of Tashi-lunpo, i. 333;\n lectures in, 366\n\n Kapchor, camp at, i. 261\n\n Kaptar-khane, camp at, ii. 233\n\n Karakash Darya, river, ii. 252\n\n Karakorum range, appearance of, from Chang-lung-yogma, i. 86;\n caravan enveloped by storm from, 91\n\n Karbu, an old follower recognized at, i. 40\n\n Karbu-la pass, ii. 107\n\n Kargan-la pass, ii. 103\n\n Kargil, trial and dismissal of Kashmiris and Pathans from caravan at,\n i. 41\n\n Karma Puntso, Governor of Bongba, ii. 304, 321\n\n Karma Tamding, of Tang-yung, guide and yaks supplied by, i. 213\n\n Karong-tso, lake, ii. 387\n\n Karpun, an old acquaintance, i. 253\n\n Karu monastery, i. 63\n\n Karu, camp at, i. 404\n\n Kashmir, Maharaja of (Sir Pratab Sing), reception of author by, i. 26;\n f\u00eate given by, in honour of Emperor of India's birthday, 27\n\n Kashmiris, dismissal of, i. 41\n\n Kayi-pangbuk, camp at, i. 262\n\n Kayi-rung valley, i. 262\n\n Kebechungu country, configuration of the, i. 196;\n dust-storm in, 196\n\n Kelung-tsangpo, river, i. 264\n\n Kesar-tsangpo, river, i. 262\n\n Keva, mountain peak, i. 216\n\n Khaleb, river, ii. 181;\n camp on moor, 181, 189, 203\n\n Kichung-la pass, ii. 45\n\n Kien Lung, Emperor of China, visited by third Tashi Lama, i. 334\n\n Kilung-la pass, view from, ii. 69\n\n Kinchen-la pass, ii. 344;\n armed search-party visit our camp below the, 345\n\n Kitchen of Tashi-lunpo, gigantic tea-cauldrons in the, i. 361\n\n Kitchener, Lord, assistance promised by, i. 8;\n at Viceroy's State dinner, Simla, 12;\n trophies and curios in house at Simla, 18;\n photograph of, in Tashi-lunpo, 321;\n hospitality to author, ii. 422;\n bid good-bye to, 423\n\n Kograng-sanspo, river, i. 79, 81;\n difficulties in crossing, 80\n\n Kokbo valley, camp in, ii. 22-24;\n begging lama at, 24;\n impending difficulties at, 25\n\n K\u00f6ppen, book on Lamaism by, i. 329 _n._\n\n Kore-la pass, ii. 73, 82;\n view from, 78\n\n K\u00f6teklik, ii. 237\n\n Kotgar, attend mission service in, ii. 419\n\n Krishna, the Pundit, i. 272; ii. 404\n\n Kubi-gangri, excursion to the, ii. 88, 99;\n source of the Brahmaputra located in, 96;\n huge moraines of, 99;\n glaciers of, 100;\n description and names of peaks, 102\n\n Kubi-tsangpo, river, ii. 90;\n measurement of discharge of, 91;\n journey up the, 91\n\n Kuen-lun mountain system, i. 131, 142\n\n _Kulans_ or _kiangs_, wild asses, i. 74, 97, 154, 177; ii. 95, 161, 285\n\n Kule-la pass, ii. 354\n\n Kum-bum monastery, visited by third Tashi Lama, i. 334;\n miraculous tree in, 335\n\n Kungchak-kong valley, ii. 79\n\n Kung Gushuk, Duke, brother of the Tashi Lama, i. 255, 282, 309;\n his house in Shigatse, 385;\n portrait drawn of his wife, 386\n\n Kung-lung valley, false alarm at, i. 215;\n a prolonged storm, 216\n\n Kung-muga, camp at, ii. 82\n\n Kung-sherya country, dangers of discovery in, ii. 315-319\n\n Kung-tsangpo, river, i. 262\n\n Kuru-chok, double lake of, ii. 104\n\n Kyam-chu, valley of, ii. 36;\n junction of river with the Amchok-tso, 39;\n delta of, 39\n\n Kyangdam plain, camp on the, ii. 20\n\n Kyangdam-tsangpo, river, ii. 34\n\n Kyerkye valley, ii. 48\n\n\n Labrang, the, palace of the Tashi Lama, i. 317, 330\n\n \"Lac Ammoniac,\" Dutreuil de Rhins', i. 199\n\n Lache-to island, Langak-tso, wild-geese eggs on, ii 175\n\n La-chu, river, ii. 181\n\n Ladaki pony, my white, i. 83, 170, 297; ii. 229, 265, 273, 279\n\n Ladakis of caravan, their cheerfulness, i. 76, 230;\n statements regarding the weather, 79;\n attention to dying horses, 93;\n prayers for successful journey, 139;\n festivities in camp, 146; ii. 368;\n want of cleanliness, i. 150;\n marvellous memory of, 151;\n biographical details of, 151;\n Lamaists among, receive blessing of the Tashi Lama, 356;\n home-sickness among, ii. 62, 67;\n costume of, assumed by author as disguise, 277\n\n Ladung-la pass, view from summit of, ii. 313\n\n Laen-la pass, i. 223\n\n _Lagbas_ (corpse-carriers), hereditary caste of, i. 370;\n gruesome occupation of, 371\n\n La-ghyanyak pass, i. 208\n\n Lakes, frozen, Tibetan distrust of, i. 227\n\n \"Lama Rinpoche,\" meaning of title, ii. 2\n\n Lama temple at Shargul, i. 42\n\n Lamaism, a corrupt form of Buddhism, i. 312;\n founder of, 312; ii. 29;\n books recommended for study of, i. 329 _n._\n\n Lamaist Church, festivals of the, i. 301\n\n Lamas, mendicant, i. 217, 383;\n various orders of, 351;\n devotional pilgrimage of wandering, 357\n\n Lamayuru, village and monastery of, i. 42, 43\n\n Lamblung valley, camp in, i. 259\n\n Lamlung-la pass, view from, ii. 362\n\n Lamlung-la pass, Teri-nam-tso, ii. 384\n\n Lanak-la pass, closed to author, i. 79\n\n Landslip, a huge, ii. 238\n\n Langak-tso, lake, ii. 122, 157;\n levels taken of isthmus between Manasarowar and, 167;\n earlier explorers' visits, 167;\n channel from Manasarowar to, 168, 180, 186;\n legend as to origin of channel, 169;\n outline of, 169;\n sandspouts at, 170;\n prolonged storm at, 172;\n goose-island of, 174, 180;\n freezing of, 180\n\n Langbo-nan monastery, twelve-year-old abbot of, ii. 163, 415\n\n Langchen-kabab, spring of, ii. 182\n\n Langchen-kamba, valley and spring of, ii. 105\n\n Langchen-kamba (Elephant river), Tibetan name for the Sutlej, ii. 182\n\n Langmar village, camp at, ii. 12\n\n Langmar-tsangpo, river (upper My-chu), ii. 13\n\n Langta-chen massive, Kubi-gangri, ii. 102\n\n Lap, severe climate of, ii. 376\n\n Lapchung-tso, lake, ii. 375\n\n Lapsen-Tari, view of Targo-gangri from, ii. 20\n\n Largep, chief of, friction with, ii. 28;\n presents from, 34\n\n La-rock pass, i. 280\n\n Lashman Das, Pundit, i. 41\n\n La-shung country, i. 174\n\n La-shung-tso, lake, i. 174\n\n Lavar-gangri, mountain region, ii. 397\n\n Lavar-tsangpo, river, ii. 399\n\n Ldata valley, i. 74\n\n Leh, arrival at, and quarters in, i. 45;\n our final preparations in, 48, 53;\n advance caravan despatched from, 51;\n Hajji Nazer Shah, a wealthy merchant of, 55;\n assistance of Gulam Razul, his son, 56;\n description of town, 57;\n old palace of, 58;\n graves of Europeans in, 58;\n incidents of our send-off from, 60\n\n Lehlung-gompa, visit to monastery of, i. 425;\n stuffed yaks in, 426\n\n Lemchung-tso, lake, camp at the, ii. 282;\n beginning of a thirty-days' storm at, 283\n\n Lenjo, valley of, i. 429\n\n Lesdain, Count de, i. 272;\n book on Tibet by, ii. 400\n\n Letters, welcome arrival of, i. 256, 377;\n arrangements for forwarding, 72, 83, 87, 103;\n despatch of, from Tokchen, ii. 107\n\n Lhasa, visit of officials from, i. 375, 395;\n Tundup Sonam and Tashi despatched with letters to, ii. 42;\n instructions to Tibetans from, as to my journey, 44\n\n Lhayak, camp in, ii. 93\n\n Lien Darin, Amban of Lhasa, correspondence with, i. 393, 400; ii. 42,\n 216\n\n Lighten, Lake, camp and rest at, i. 101;\n personnel of caravan reduced at, 102;\n second camp at, 107;\n soundings and measurements of, 107-110;\n storm on, 111;\n a miserable night at, 115;\n varied memories of, 116;\n rescue party reach us, 118;\n sudden change of scenery on leaving, 119\n\n Liktse-gompa monastery, ii. 74;\n skulls as drinking-vessels in, 75\n\n Linga-gompa monastery, i. 430;\n disposal of deceased monk's property, 431;\n view from, 432, 434;\n rhythmical chanting in, 432;\n Pesu temple in, 434;\n an optical illusion, 435\n\n Linga-kok village, camp at, i. 430\n\n Ling\u00f6 village, rock-drawings near, i. 422\n\n Loang-gonga, river, ii. 104\n\n Lobsang, my Tibetan follower, ii. 227\n\n Lobsang Shunten, secretary to Governor of Naktsang, i. 249\n\n Lobsang Tsering, secretary to the Tashi Lama, visit of, in Shigatse,\n i. 298\n\n Lobsang Tsering, Tibetan nomad, i. 192, 193\n\n Lo Gapu, Nepalese frontier chief, ii. 75, 80\n\n Log, by Lyth of Stockholm, i. 108; ii. 114\n\n Long, camp at, ii. 239\n\n Lopchak Mission, the, a lucrative monopoly, i. 55\n\n Lop\u00f6n Rinpoche. _See_ Padma Sambhava\n\n Losar, the (New Year Festival of Lama Church). _See_ New Year Festival\n\n Lo-shung, the, headwater of the Raga-tsangpo, ii. 41\n\n Lukkong, village of, i. 70\n\n Luma-shar country, ii. 306\n\n Lumbo-gangri, holy mountain, view of, from the Kilung-la, ii. 69\n\n Lumbur-ringmo-tso, lake, ii. 286;\n suspicions of nomads at, 287;\n purchase of sheep at, 289\n\n Lundup Tsering, leader of Naktsang party, ii. 26\n\n Lungdep-chu, the, tributary of the Indus, ii. 211\n\n Lungdep-ningri, head of wild sheep secured on, ii. 211\n\n Lung-ganden-gompa monastery, i. 424;\n hermit of the, ii. 3\n\n Lungnak valley, i. 78\n\n Lungnak-bupchu, stream, ii. 323\n\n Lungring pass, ii. 40\n\n Lung-yung, river, ii. 92\n\n Lunkar, camp at, i. 74;\n arrangement of caravan on leaving, 75\n\n Lunkar-gompa monastery, ii. 391\n\n Lunkar-la pass, ii. 392\n\n Lunpo-gangri, peaks of, varying views, ii. 325 ff.\n\n Lying, successful, Tibetan admiration of, ii. 350\n\n\n Mabie-tangsam-angmo, camp at, ii. 389\n\n Ma Chi Fu, Chinese official from Lhasa, i. 400, 402\n\n Machung village, symbolic designs at, i. 421\n\n M'Swiney, Colonel, i. 16\n\n Ma Daloi, Chinese commander in Shigatse, i. 296, 315;\n celebration of Chinese New Year, 345;\n orders me to leave Shigatse, 391\n\n Mad\u00f6 Gemo, the fish-god of Tso-mavang, ii. 130\n\n Ma-lung, river, i. 277\n\n Mamer, village of, i. 36\n\n Manasarowar, \"the holy lake,\" ii. 106;\n Hindu veneration for, 110;\n surpassing beauty of the lake and its surroundings, 111;\n Tibetan superstitions as to, 112, 114;\n former levels, 113;\n our first sail on, 114;\n soundings and temperatures of, 115 ff.;\n lightning effects on, 115;\n wonderful natural phenomena, 116, 117;\n long voyage on, 121;\n pilgrims at, 121, 133;\n the lamas of Gossul-gompa astonished, 122;\n outlets of, 122;\n storm on, 123;\n peculiar wave undulations, 127;\n map of shore-line drawn, 128;\n origin of lake determined, 128;\n Tugu-gompa and Yanggo-gompa, 130, 132;\n Hindu homage to the, 133;\n terrific storm on, 136-140;\n succour from Gossul-gompa, 141, 142;\n monks' contradictory statements as to, 147;\n its sanctity, 151;\n springs of, 156, 158;\n underground connection with Langak-tso, 157, 168;\n outline of, 158;\n Chiu-gompa, 159;\n our last days on, 160;\n Pundi-gompa and Langbo-nan monasteries, 162, 163;\n amount of surface water flowing into, 163;\n channel between Langak-tso and, 168, 180, 186;\n Chergip-gompa, 165;\n freezing of, 180;\n journey along northern shore, 415\n\n _Mani ringmos_, or stone cists covered with slabs i. 61\n\n Mankogh-la pass, i. 80\n\n Manlung valley, i. 78\n\n Manuel, cook to author, i. 21;\n his broken English, 99;\n sent home from Lake Lighten, 102, 106\n\n Maps referred to:\n of Nain Sing, i. 250, 258; ii, 21, 29, 41, 302, 380, 403;\n Ryder and Wood, 41, 85, 90, 405;\n Webber, 89;\n D'Anville, 185, 186, 327, 401;\n Hodgson, 401;\n Dufour, 401;\n Saunders, 402;\n Atkinson, 402;\n Krishna, 404\n\n March, length of a day's, i. 73\n\n Marchar-tso, lake, i. 258\n\n Marium-chu, river, ii. 90\n\n Marium-la pass, crossed by Nain Sing, ii. 89\n\n Markham, Sir Clements, book by, mentioned, ii. 402\n\n Markham, Lake, discovered and named by Captain Rawling, i. 148\n\n Marku-tso, lake, i. 224\n\n Marnyak-la pass, ii. 104\n\n Marsimik-la pass, slow progress of caravan over, i. 76;\n disagreeable descent of, 77\n\n Martsang-tsangpo, river, ii. 90\n\n Marx, Dr. Karl, i. 54\n\n Marx, Rev. Mr., missionary at Poo, ii. 417\n\n Massieu, Madame, meeting with, at Taranda, ii. 419\n\n Matayun, camp at, i. 39;\n disturbance in caravan at, 39\n\n Mausoleums of five Tashi Lamas in Tashi-lunpo, i. 330-338\n\n Medicine-chest, a popular, i. 29, 172;\n presented to the Tashi Lama, 316\n\n Memo-chutsen, warm spring of, ii. 373\n\n Memory, examples of marvellous, i. 151\n\n Men-chu, river, ii. 68\n\n Men-chu valley, camp in, ii. 69\n\n Mendicants, Tibetan, i. 217\n\n Mendong-gompa monastery, tent-villages\n of, ii. 380\n\n Menu, a tempting, i. 184\n\n Merke-sang, view from, ii. 388\n\n Meteorological observations, i. 142\n\n Minto, Countess of, i. 13, 14, 19; ii. 422\n\n Minto, Earl of, Viceroy of India, efforts on behalf of author, i. 9;\n State dinner and lev\u00e9e by, 12;\n receives author as his guest, 13;\n his popularity in India, and State service, 13;\n family life of, 14;\n author's farewell to, and family, 19;\n hospitality of, ii. 420;\n speech to my followers, 421;\n good-bye to, 422\n\n Mirage, perplexing effects of, i. 94; ii. 273\n\n Mittag-Leffler, Professor, Stockholm University, ii. 406\n\n Mogbo-dimrop country, i. 199;\n gloomy news in, 200\n\n Mohanlal, merchant of Leh, i. 45, 53\n\n Mohanlal, Hindu doctor, ii. 416\n\n Mollah Shah, a former follower, met with, ii. 234\n\n Monks in Tashi-lunpo, religious ceremonies by, i. 348 ff.;\n grades and number of, 351, 352;\n daily life of, 358, 366;\n great consumption of tea among, 359, 361;\n voluntary immurement of certain, 363;\n strict rule enforced, 364;\n manufacture of images by, 367;\n funeral customs, 369\n\n Monlam-gongma, ii. 325\n\n Monsoon rains, importance of, ii. 68\n\n Montgomerie, Colonel T. G., ii. 89, 403\n\n Moravian missionaries in Leh, kindness of, i. 54;\n admirable work among the Ladakis, 54, 55\n\n Morley, Lord, Secretary of State for India, i. 8, 9, 11;\n explains refusal of permission to enter Tibet, 10\n\n Muglib, muster of camp and inspection of animals at, i. 69\n\n Muhamed Isa, my caravan leader, i. 30;\n experience and qualifications, 46, 47;\n his preparations for equipment of caravan, 48;\n watchful care exercised by, 76;\n his opinion of the Rajput escort, 78;\n way-marks erected by, 83, 149;\n sets out for Gyangtse, 391, 396;\n arranges festivities in Basang camp, ii. 47;\n leaves with main caravan for Saka, 47;\n illness and sufferings of, 52, 53;\n his death, 54;\n funeral of, 56;\n appreciations of, 57, 58;\n inscription on tombstone, 58;\n Guffaru appointed his successor, 59;\n Mohammedans hold memorial feast, 60;\n depressing effects of his death, 62\n\n Muhamed Rehim, merchant from Khotan, ii. 234\n\n Mukchung-simo massive, Kubi-gangri, ii. 100, 102\n\n Mukden, Christmas 1908 spent in, ii. 248\n\n Mules, comparison of Poonch and Tibetan, i. 28, 198;\n heavy losses of, 149, 162, 163, 197;\n our new animals at Gar-gunsa, ii. 220;\n tonic effects of whisky on, 260, 264;\n death of our last veteran, 261\n\n Mundang, Nepal, caravan from, ii. 75\n\n Munjam valley, ii. 212\n\n Mun-tso, twin lakes, position of, ii. 380\n\n My-chu-tsangpo, river, i. 269, 272;\n complicated system of, 276;\n confluence of Dok-chu with, 422;\n journey up valley of, 423 ff.;\n scenery of, 428;\n an eccentric guide, 428;\n commercial importance of valley route, 429\n\n\n Nadsum, camp at, i. 217\n\n Nagma-tsangpo (Chuma), river, ii. 28\n\n Nagor, the Gova of, ii. 84\n\n Nagrong valley, monk-doctor's tent in, ii. 296;\n animals and stores purchased in, 297\n\n Nain Sing, his discovery of great lakes of central Tibet, i. 3;\n nomenclature of Bogtsang-tsangpo district, 206;\n outline of the Ngangtse-tso, 230;\n maps of, referred to, 250, 258; ii. 21, 29, 41, 302, 380, 403;\n on source of Brahmaputra, 89\n\n Nakbo-gongrong-gangri, mountain, ii. 376\n\n Nakbo-kongdo-la pass, ii. 376\n\n Nakchu, pilgrims from, i. 200;\n purchases from, 202\n\n Naktsang, Governor of, refuses to allow caravan to proceed, i. 236,\n 243, 247;\n previous trouble with, 238;\n meetings with, 242, 247;\n his treatment by the Devashung, 243, 251, 376;\n my proposals to, 244;\n unexpected change of front by, 249;\n eclipse of sun explained to, 254;\n cordial leave-taking, 257\n\n Naktsang, horsemen from, our progress stopped by, ii. 26;\n palaver and agreement with, 27;\n costumes and equipment of, 31\n\n Namachang district, camp in, i. 261\n\n Namarding valley, camp in, ii. 107\n\n Nama-shu, camp at, ii. 80\n\n Namchen valley, joint camp in the, ii. 362;\n stores laid in at, 364;\n renewed discussion of my return route at meeting in, 364\n\n Namgyal-lhakang temple, Tashi-lunpo, service in, i. 362\n\n Namla, village of, ii. 85\n\n Namla-gompa monastery, ii. 85\n\n Namreldi, valley and stream, ii. 156\n\n Nangsang-la pass, ii. 92\n\n Naong-rung valley, i. 263\n\n Naong-tsangpo, river, i. 262\n\n Nayala, mountain, i. 415\n\n Nazer Shah, Hajji, a wealthy patriarch of Leh, i. 55;\n lucrative monopoly in family of, 56;\n services rendered to author by his sons, 56, 377, 384; ii. 217-221;\n commercial interests in Shigatse, i. 385\n\n Nebuk, village of, ii. 80\n\n Neka district, camp in, i. 214;\n sickness in caravan at, 214\n\n Nema-tok, camp at, ii. 310\n\n Nepal, the Consul of, at Tashi-lunpo, i. 304, 374;\n a stolen visit into, ii. 79;\n temptation to extend journey southwards, 81\n\n Nerung-tsangpo, river, ii. 84\n\n Neve, Dr. Arthur, Srinagar, i. 23\n\n Neve, Dr. Ernest, i. 23\n\n New Year, Chinese, celebration of, i. 345\n\n New Year Festival, Tashi-lunpo:\n its popularity, i. 301;\n our dress for, and journey to, 303;\n a picturesque assemblage, 304;\n dresses at, 305;\n reasons for increase of interest in, 306;\n an enthralling hymn-chant, 308;\n arrival of the Tashi Lama and his court, 309;\n religious dances and masques, 311;\n effect on the spectators, 313;\n a symbolic fire, 314;\n combined dance of lamas, 315;\n general purpose and significance of the ceremonies, 315\n\n Ngangga, or Ganga, channel between Manasarowar and the Langak-tso, ii.\n 180, 186\n\n Nganglaring-tso, lake, irregular outline of, ii. 398\n\n Ngangtse-tso, lake, rest at, i. 223;\n thickness of ice of, 224;\n hermit's cave at, 225;\n soundings on, 226 ff.;\n sledge constructed, 226;\n singular ice-effects, 227-239;\n New Year's Day 1907 on, 230;\n Nain Sing's outline of, 230;\n crustace\u00e6 in, 231;\n trying weather on, 232;\n letter with bad news from Robert, 236;\n meetings with Governor of Naktsang at, 242, 247;\n arrival of mail-bag, 254;\n reasons for remembering the, 257\n\n Ngartang, bivouac in, i. 277\n\n Ngavang, joint Governor of Saka-dzong, ii. 353, 368\n\n Ngomo-dingding, glaciers of, ii. 92, 96, 101\n\n Ngurbu Tondup, our mail-carrier to Gyangtse, i. 260, 274;\n brings us good news, 282\n\n Ngurkung-la pass, ii. 76\n\n Nien-chen-tang-la range, geographical importance of, i. 267, 272; ii.\n 19, 330;\n questions as to its direction and extent, 217, 324\n\n Nima-lung-la pass, ii. 324\n\n Nima-pendi valley, ii. 129\n\n Nima Tashi, chief of escort, ii. 366\n\n No Man's Land, i. 94\n\n Nomads, first meeting with, i. 179, 181;\n from Naktsang, 199;\n from Senkor, ii. 290\n\n Nubra, i. 64\n\n Nuns, in Tashi-lunpo, i. 353, 356;\n in Mendong-gompa, ii. 386\n\n Nurla station-house, i. 43\n\n Nyandi-gompa monastery, ii. 190;\n periodic increase of pilgrims to, 191;\n halls of, 191\n\n Nyang-chu, river, i. 294\n\n Nyang-t\u00f6-ki-pu, hermits' caves at, ii. 8\n\n Nyanyo, village in Nepal, ii. 80\n\n Nyapchu-tsangpo, river, ii. 393\n\n Nyuku, friendliness of Gova of, ii. 60, 67;\n arrival and camp at, 67\n\n\n Oang Gye, son of Governor of Saka-dzong, ii. 353, 368;\n his grief at shooting of wild-goose, 362\n\n O'Connor, Major W. F., British Trade Agent at Gyangtse, i. 244, 389;\n interpreter to the Tashi Lama in India, 322;\n welcome surprise from, 377;\n correspondence with, 389;\n Muhamed Isa despatched to, 391, 396;\n gift of books from, ii. 43, 224\n\n Ogawa, Professor, Kioto University, translation by, ii. 183\n\n Ogorung-tsangpo, river, ii. 13\n\n \"Om mani padme hum,\" Tibetan sacred formula, i. 44; ii. 9, 48;\n Waddell's remarks on, 204;\n universality of, 204-206;\n K\u00f6ppen and Gr\u00fcnwedel's translation of, 204\n\n Ombo, nomads from, i. 208\n\n _Ombo_, shrub used for fuel, ii. 296\n\n\n Pabla, mountain range, i. 260;\n solution of important geographical problem of the, 267, 272\n\n Pachen valley, ii. 112, 126, 161\n\n Pachung valley, ii. 112, 126, 161\n\n Padma Sambhava, founder of Lamaism, i. 312; ii. 29\n\n _Pama_, species of juniper, ii. 13\n\n Pama valley, ii. 79\n\n Pamzal, i. 78, 80\n\n Panchen Rinpoche, \"the Great Precious Teacher.\" _See_ Tashi Lama\n\n Panchor, brother of Kamba Tsenam, ii. 342;\n acts as our guide, 366;\n doubtful character of, 372, 376, 378\n\n Panggong pass, i. 70\n\n Panggong-tso, lake, i. 70;\n previous visit to, 70\n\n Pangsetak, camp at, ii. 45\n\n Pankur country, ii. 290\n\n Parka, baggage sent to, ii. 166;\n camp at, 179\n\n Parka Tasam, threats by, ii. 178\n\n Partridges, shooting of, causes suspicion, ii. 304\n\n Parva valley, camp above the, ii. 33\n\n Pasa-guk, village of, ii. 65;\n unreliable data in, 66\n\n Passes of the Trans-Himalaya, principal, ii. 408;\n unknown, crossed by author, 409;\n average height of, 410\n\n Passport, Chinese, ultimate value of, i. 299;\n cancelling of, 395;\n terms of my new, 398; ii. 21, 27\n\n Pathans of escort, i. 28;\n difficulties with, 38;\n dismissed from caravan, 41\n\n Pati-bo, district of, i. 207\n\n Patterson, Captain, Joint-Commissioner of Ladak, kindness of, i. 46, 47;\n addresses caravan before starting, 51\n\n Pears, Colonel, Resident at Srinagar, letter from, i. 25\n\n Pedang-tsangpo, valley of the, ii. 394, 396\n\n _Peling_, or European, i. 200\n\n Pemba Tsering, of Saka, ii. 60, 63, 348, 354\n\n Pensa, Gova, ii. 390\n\n Pere-pala, Nepalese merchants' serai in Shigatse, i. 374\n\n Permanakbo-tang valley, camp in, i. 279\n\n Peter, Rev. Mr., Leh, i. 51, 54\n\n Pike-la pass, i. 213\n\n Pilgrimage of prostration, description of, ii. 199\n\n Pilgrims, meeting with, and purchases from, i. 200, 202;\n on the Tsangpo, 292;\n in Tashi-lunpo, 353, 356;\n devotional exercises, 357;\n my experiences of Mecca, ii. 69;\n Hindu, at Manasarowar, 133, 153;\n on journey round Kailas, 192, 197;\n mental sketch of great routes of, 203\n\n Pinzoling, bridge at, i. 416\n\n Pobrang village, meeting with English sportsmen at, i. 71;\n rest for man and beast at, 72;\n arrangements made for letters, 72;\n our last point of contact with outer world, 72, 74\n\n Political complications:\n Tibetan Government officials' visit in Shigatse, i. 375;\n orders from Tibetan and Chinese Governments, 388, 391;\n advice from Gaw Daloi, 392;\n letters to Chinese and Tibetan State officials, 393;\n Chinese supremacy, 395;\n letter from Chang Yin Tang, 397\n\n Pongchen-la pass, i. 260\n\n Poo, Moravian missionaries' hospitality at, ii. 417;\n Takkar's return to, 418\n\n Poonch, mules from, compared with Tibetan, i. 28;\n trouble with men from, 39\n\n Porung valley, sulphurous springs in, i. 269\n\n Poru-tso, lake, view of, ii. 392\n\n Potu-la pass, i. 42\n\n Prayer formula, Tibetan, i. 301, 357, 404, 408\n\n Prayer-mills, in Tashi-lunpo, i. 360;\n in Tashi-gembe, 413;\n ubiquity of, ii. 205\n\n Priesthood, orders of, i. 351;\n domination of the, in Tibet, 384\n\n Prostration pilgrimage, description of, ii. 199\n\n Pu-chu, valley of, ii. 40\n\n Pul-tso, lake, camp at, i. 131;\n sudden storms at, 133, 136;\n soundings and\n measurements, 133-135;\n crustace\u00e6 in, 134;\n mysterious camp-fire, 135\n\n Pundi, double peaks of, ii. 112, 126, 171\n\n Pundi-gompa monastery, ii. 162\n\n Pung-chu, river, ii. 85\n\n Punjab, Lieutenant-Governor of the, i. 12\n\n Puntsuk, Tibetan nomad, i. 189, 191\n\n Pupchung-tsangpo, river, i. 264\n\n Purang, epidemic of smallpox at, ii. 92\n\n _Pustin_, Yarkand fur coat, i. 74\n\n Pusum village, camp at, i. 415\n\n\n Quadt, Count, German Consul-General, dinner given at Simla by, i. 16\n\n Quetta, i. 5\n\n\n Rabsang, biographical details of, i. 151\n\n Races, mixture of, in caravan, i. 31\n\n Radak valley, ii. 353\n\n Raga-tasam, camp at, ii. 41;\n route of Rawling's expedition touched at, 41;\n messengers despatched to Shigatse from, 42;\n camp life at, 43;\n Tibetan Government's instructions regarding author, 44;\n visit of the Gova of, 63\n\n Raga-tsangpo, river. _See_ Dok-chu\n\n Ragok valley, i. 206\n\n Rains, importance of monsoon, ii. 68;\n our first, since leaving Ladak, 74\n\n Rajputs of escort, i. 28;\n Muhamed Isa's opinion of, 78, 103;\n sent home at Lake Lighten, 102, 106\n\n Rakas-tal. _See_ Langak-tso\n\n Rambirpur, village of, i. 63\n\n Rartse plain, arrival of missing followers at camp in the, ii. 399\n\n Ravak-la pass, ii. 45\n\n Ravens, pertinacity of, i. 143, 148, 155, 164\n\n Rawalpindi, i. 21\n\n Rawling, Captain C. G., i. 16, 51;\n discovers Captain Deasy's stores at the Yeshil-kul, 129;\n maps out Yeshil-kul district, 130, 137;\n Lake Markham discovered and named by, 148;\n expedition to Gartok under, ii. 90\n\n Rehim Ali, lessons in rowing to, i. 108;\n terror of, in storm on Lake Lighten, 113;\n attacked by wild yak, 176;\n sacrifice offered up by, 194\n\n Religions, various, in caravan, i. 31, 53\n\n Ribbach, Mr. and Mrs., Leh, i. 55\n\n Richen-chu, river, ii. 132\n\n Richung-chu, river, ii. 129\n\n Rickshaws, reason for their abundance in Simla, i. 17\n\n Rigi-hloma, Gova of, interesting information by the, ii. 393\n\n _Rikchen_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n Rinakchutsen, lake, camp at, i. 198\n\n _Ringding_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n Riochung country, camp in the, ii. 276\n\n Robbers, in the Chaktak-tsangpo country, ii. 335;\n Tibetan punishment of, 336\n\n Robert, my faithful servant and meteorological assistant, i. 29, 39,\n 142, 150;\n medical skill of, 171;\n home-sickness of, ii. 62;\n bad news received by, 219;\n my parting with, 229\n\n Rock valley, ii. 67\n\n Rock-drawings in Dok-chu valley, i. 422\n\n Ronggak-chu, river, ii. 104\n\n Ruins, encouraging effect of discovery of, i. 169\n\n Rukyok-tsangpo, river, and valley, ii. 69, 334\n\n Rung valley, bivouac in, i. 277\n\n Rung-chu, river, i. 280\n\n Rungma, village of, i. 285, 403\n\n Ryder and Wood, maps by, referred to, ii. 41, 85, 90, 405\n\n\n Sachu-tsangpo, river, ii. 327;\n camp at the, 361\n\n Sadung, camp at, i. 403\n\n Saka, permission for excursion granted by Governor of, ii. 47;\n arrival at, 51;\n difficulties with officials of, 60;\n longing to get away from, 61;\n village life, 62;\n search-party from, visit our camp, 345;\n my return route discussed with the Governor of, 355-359, 364\n\n Sakti, village of, i. 64\n\n Saka-gompa monastery, ii. 62\n\n Salt-caravans, ii. 64, 323, 329\n\n Salt lakes, gradual shrinking of Tibetan, i. 91;\n importance of their product, 193\n\n Salutation, Tibetan form of, i. 182, 240, 280, 429\n\n Samde-puk convent, ii. 1;\n hermit's cell near, 2\n\n _Samkang_, or hermit's cave, i. 224\n\n Samo-tsangpo, river, fish of, ii. 107\n\n Samye-la pass, hydrographical and geographical importance of, ii. 329;\n unbroken continuance of the Trans-Himalaya proved at, 330;\n not on the same chain as the Angden-la, 330\n\n Sanchen-la pass, ii. 310\n\n Sandhills, shifting, on the Brahmaputra, ii. 86\n\n Sand-spout, near Amchok-yung, ii. 36\n\n Sangchen-chu, river, camp at the, ii. 308\n\n Sangge-ngamo-buk, visit from chief of, ii. 383\n\n Sangmo-bertik valley, ii. 375\n\n Sangmo-bertik-la pass, ii. 377\n\n Sangra, mountain, i. 264\n\n Sangra-palhe valley, i. 265\n\n Saspul, i. 44\n\n Satsot-la pass, ii. 322\n\n Saunders, map by, ii. 202\n\n Schnabel, Rev. Mr., missionary at Poo, ii. 417\n\n Search-party from Saka, ii. 345;\n their instructions regarding us, 346, 349;\n my recognition of Pemba Tsering and interview with, 348-350;\n agree to accompany them to Semoku, 350\n\n Sekya monastery, i. 281\n\n Sela-la pass, i. 267, 272;\n triumphant reflections at, 268\n\n Sele-nang valley, i. 266, 268\n\n Selin-do, camp at, i. 268\n\n Selipuk-gompa monastery, abbot of, ii. 399;\n earthquake at, 399\n\n Selung-urdu valley and glacier, ii. 156\n\n Semoku, journey to, ii. 353;\n meeting with Governor of Saka-dzong in, 355-359;\n mutual courtesies at, 360\n\n Senes-yung-ringmo, ii. 285\n\n Sen-kamba-la pass, ii. 103\n\n Senkor, nomads from, ii. 290\n\n Seoyinna, mountain, i. 189\n\n Serchung-la pass, view from, ii. 69\n\n Sereding, hill, i. 266\n\n Serme-lartsa, ii. 40\n\n Serolung valley, camp at, ii. 113\n\n Serolung-gompa monastery, ii. 112\n\n Serpo-tsunge, mountain, i. 266\n\n Serpun-lam, the, great high-road of, ii. 321, 394\n\n Sershik-gompa monastery, ii. 29\n\n Sertsang-chu, river, visit of Tibetans at, i. 217\n\n Sha-kangsham, mountain, ii. 302, 306, 310, 322, 381\n\n Shak-chu, river, ii. 20\n\n Sha-la pass, ii. 36\n\n Shalung-la pass, ii. 371\n\n Sham valley, camp in, i. 275\n\n Shamsang, camp at, ii. 88\n\n Shangbuk-la pass, ii. 25, 32\n\n Shang-chu, river, i. 272\n\n Shapka, camp at, ii. 95\n\n Shapku-chu stream, ii. 97\n\n Shargul, lama temple at, i. 42\n\n Shar-tso, lake, ii. 306\n\n Shawe, Dr., Leh, i. 54\n\n Sheep, return of our missing, i. 165;\n wild, 174; ii. 252, 310, 380;\n used as pack-animals, 289, 334\n\n Sheep-driving, author's inaptitude for, ii. 299\n\n Shemen-tso, lake, camp at, ii. 270;\n journey along, 272\n\n Sherring, Mr. C. A., ii. 128;\n kindness of, and Mrs., 144\n\n Sheryak, camp in, ii. 92\n\n Shey monastery, i. 61\n\n Shialung valley, camp near, ii. 236\n\n Shib-la-yilung valley, i. 271\n\n Shigatse, arrival at, i. 295;\n interview with commander of Chinese garrison, 296;\n remains of caravan at, 297;\n visited by Tibetan officials at, 298;\n impression made by my Chinese passport, 299;\n permission to attend New Year Festival in Tashi-lunpo, 299;\n description of Festival, 301-315;\n return Ma Daloi's visit, 315;\n arrangements for visit to the Tashi Lama, 316;\n architecture of, 340;\n Dzong of, 340, 377;\n sports-meeting at, 341-345;\n Chinese New Year celebration, 345;\n gruesome funeral customs, 370;\n Lhasa Government officials' visit to me, 375;\n arrival of correspondence, 377;\n assistance rendered by Gulam Kadir, 377;\n market-place of, 378;\n system of espionage in, 379;\n sketches of women in, 380;\n variety of types and costumes, 382;\n visit to Kung Gushuk, 385;\n Chinese intrigues in, 390;\n review of my position, 394;\n sudden cordiality of authorities in, 398;\n formal council held, and my return route specified, 398;\n a canine interlude in, 399;\n preparations for departure from, 400;\n messengers despatched from Raga-tasam to, ii. 42\n\n Shipki, village of, ii. 417\n\n Shipki-la pass, farewell to Tibet from, ii. 417\n\n Shooting competitions, Tibetan, i. 343\n\n Shovo-tso, lake, camp on shore of, ii. 396\n\n Shukkur Ali, uniform cheerfulness of, i. 52\n\n Shuru-tso, lake, i. 216; ii. 25;\n terraces of, 33;\n unusual direction of, 33;\n storm on, 34;\n shape of, 34\n\n Shyok valley, wretched journey through the, ii. 230-232;\n farewell festival in village, 232;\n caravan derelicts in, 237;\n canine happy event, 238;\n enormous wastage of horses in, 240, 245;\n scarcity of provender, 241;\n our complicated situation, 242;\n miserable camping-places, 242, 246;\n Mohammedan hymn in, 246\n\n Simla, scenery of railway journey to, i. 5;\n arrival at, and welcome by Sir Francis Younghusband, 6;\n anxious moments in, 7;\n State functions in Viceregal Lodge, 12, 17; ii. 420;\n rickshaws in, i. 17;\n Lord Kitchener's house in, 18; ii. 422;\n departure from, i. 20;\n return to, ii. 420;\n residence in Viceregal Lodge, i. 13; ii. 420;\n hospitality of Colonel Dunlop Smith and Lord Kitchener, 420, 422;\n lecture before the Viceregal Court, 421;\n good-bye to my Ladakis and Little Puppy in, 422\n\n Sind, valley of the, i. 35\n\n Singi-buk, camp at, ii. 210\n\n Singi-chava, ii. 212\n\n Singi-kabab, source of the Indus, ii. 210, 212\n\n Singi-tsangpo, or Indus, ii. 210\n\n Singi-y\u00fcra, ii. 212\n\n Singrul, camp at, i. 65\n\n Sirchung, village of, i. 425\n\n Skulls as drinking-vessels, Liktse-gompa, ii. 75\n\n Sledges, on the Ngangtse-tso, i. 226\n\n Smallpox epidemic at Purang, ii. 92\n\n \"Snoring Kunchuk,\" ii. 299, 333;\n new title for, 379\n\n Snowstorm, a terrific, ii. 269\n\n Sogbarong Tsering Tundup, Tibetan nomad, ii. 288\n\n Soma-tsangpo, river, camp at, ii. 380;\n journey along the, 386\n\n Sonam Ngurbu, Governor of Chokchu, ii. 399\n\n Sonamarg, bivouac at, i. 37\n\n Sonam Tsering, leader of advance caravan, i. 51;\n in charge of the mules, 72;\n points out Deasy's depot, 129\n\n So valley, i. 284\n\n Source of the Brahmaputra, ii. 96, 101;\n of the Sutlej, 129, 153, 180;\n of the Indus, 212\n\n Spanglung valley, camp near, i. 78\n\n Spittol monastery, i. 45\n\n Sports, Tibetan, i. 341-345\n\n Srinagar, scenery of journey to, i. 22;\n arrival at, 23;\n dinner-table talk about author, 24;\n interview with the Maharaja of Kashmir's private secretary, 24;\n f\u00eate at, 27;\n equipment of caravan, 28;\n departure from, 30;\n puppies taken from, 34;\n plates and rock specimens sent to, 103\n\n Srong Tsan Ganpo, wives of, i. 333\n\n Stagna-gompa monastery, i. 63\n\n Stockholm, departure from, i. 4\n\n Stok, the Raja of, letter of recommendation from, i. 57, 298\n\n Stokpa, village of, i. 57\n\n Stoliczka, Dr., monument in Leh, i. 59\n\n Stone, impressions in, i. 337, 406\n\n Storm, a thirty-days', ii. 283 ff.\n\n Sulphur springs, Chuta district, i. 82;\n in Porung valley, 269;\n at the Chunit-tso, ii. 323\n\n Sultak, i. 67\n\n Sumdang-tsangpo, river, ii. 398\n\n Sun, eclipse of the, i. 252\n\n Sung-chu, river, ii. 181\n\n Surnge-la pass, ii. 400\n\n Sur-la pass, ii. 393\n\n Sutlej, the, source of, ii. 129, 153, 180, 188;\n old bed of, 181;\n Tibetan name of, and assertions regarding its origin, 182;\n translation of Chinese extract as to its source, 183;\n its source and that of the Tage-tsangpo the same, 184, 188;\n accuracy of Chi Chao Nan's statements regarding, 185;\n Colonel Burrard on drainage area of, 187\n\n\n Tabie-tsaka, lake, salt-caravans from, ii. 64, 323;\n location of the, 322;\n view of, 392\n\n Tagar, village of, i. 64\n\n Tage-bup valley, ii. 105\n\n Tage-tsangpo river, ii. 105, 107;\n measurements of, 129;\n its source that of the Sutlej, 184, 188\n\n Tagla Tsering, chief of Sangge-ngamo-buk, visit from, ii. 383\n\n Tagrak-tsangpo, river, i. 261, 264\n\n Tagramoche district, bivouac in, ii. 105\n\n Takbur district, high-handed behaviour of chief of, ii. 49, 50;\n abundance of game in, 50\n\n Takbur-la pass, ii. 50\n\n Takkar, our Tibetan dog, ii. 305, 307, 319;\n his antipathy to Tibetans, 322, 377;\n devours wolf-cub, 399;\n returns to Poo, 418\n\n Takyung Lama, abbot of Mendong-gompa, ii. 315, 318\n\n Ta-la, or \"Horse Pass,\" view from, i. 278\n\n _Talkan_, or roasted meal, i. 53\n\n Tambak valley, ii. 84\n\n Tamchok-kamba (Brahmaputra), river, i. 403, 417\n\n Tamlung-la pass, important watershed of, ii. 104, 129\n\n Tamlung-tso, lake, ii. 104\n\n Tanak (Black Horse) valley, camp in, i. 286, 403\n\n Tanak-puchu valley, i. 286\n\n Tang Darin. _See_ Chang Yin Tang\n\n Tangna, village of, i. 417\n\n Tang-yung province, Tibetan visitors from, i. 212, 214\n\n Tang-yung-tsaka, lake, i. 208\n\n Tanjur, one of the two Tibetan Bibles, i. 412\n\n _Tanka_, or pictorial banner, i. 318\n\n Tankse, auxiliary horses hired from, i. 50, 67;\n camp and rest at, 67;\n festivities in caravan at, 68;\n men from, petition to be allowed to return home, 102;\n parting with my Ladakis at, ii. 225\n\n Tankse, river, i. 67\n\n Tarbung-la pass, ii. 25\n\n Tarchen-labrang, ii. 190, 198, 202\n\n Targo-gangri, view of the, ii. 20, 22, 381;\n glaciers of, 25, 32\n\n Targo-tsangpo, river, ii. 21;\n valley of, 22;\n our progress stopped at the, 26;\n terraces of, 26, 30\n\n Targot-la pass, ii. 30\n\n Targyaling-gompa monastery, camp below, ii. 64;\n intolerant behaviour of lamas of, 65;\n plundered by robbers, 315\n\n Tarmatse-tso, lake, i. 214\n\n Tarok-tso, lake, position of, ii. 325;\n described, 391\n\n _Tarpoche_, or votive pole, i. 280\n\n Tarting-choro, village of, i. 404\n\n Tarting-gompa monastery, i. 283, 405;\n sepulchres of high priests of, 406;\n preparations for deceased lama's funeral\n pyre at, 407;\n reflections on monastic life, 408\n\n _Tasam_, or high-road, ii. 41\n\n Tasang-la pass, ii. 84\n\n Tashi, despatched to Shigatse, ii. 42;\n his return and adventures, 71\n\n Tashi-gembe monastery, i. 218, 411;\n the two Tibetan Bibles in, 412;\n temples of, 412;\n incongruous European figures in, 413;\n prayer-cylinders in, 413;\n brilliant colouring of, 414\n\n Tashi Lama, the, increased prestige of, i. 307, 323;\n kindness to us at New Year Festival, 310;\n my visit to, 317;\n dress and general appearance of, 319;\n his kindly reception of author, 319;\n intelligence and shrewd questions of, 320, 354;\n his pleasant recollections of visit to India, 321;\n widespread power of, 322;\n previous visits of Europeans to, 322;\n attributes and functions of the Dalai Lama and, 323;\n favours granted to author by, 324;\n medicine-chest presented to, 325;\n ineffaceable impressions left by, 325, 355;\n ceremonies observed on the approaching death of a, 327;\n method of choosing his successor, 327;\n mausoleums of previous Tashi Lamas, 330;\n record length of service of first, 331;\n visit of third Tashi Lama to Pekin, 334;\n footprint of, 337;\n photograph taken of, 354;\n presents gifts to author, 355;\n rigidly prescribed life of, 356;\n his anxious questioning of author, 392;\n farewell greetings from, 402\n\n Tashi-lunpo, New Year Festival in, i. 301-316;\n a cloister town, 330;\n the Labrang, 330;\n aerial street system in, 330;\n mausoleums of earlier Tashi Lamas, 330-338;\n date of foundation, 331;\n library of, 333;\n temple of Tsong Kapa, 335;\n a sacred staircase, 337;\n clerical tailors in, 348;\n religious ceremonies witnessed, 348 ff.;\n grades and numbers of monks, 351, 352;\n bells of, 351;\n nuns and pilgrims in, 353, 356;\n author's interview with the Tashi Lama, 354;\n pilgrims' devotional exercises in, 357;\n sources of income, 358;\n monks' life in, 358, 366;\n prayer-mills of, 360;\n tea a favourite beverage in, 359, 361;\n kitchen of, 361;\n the walling-up of certain monks, 363;\n the Dena-lhakang temple, 365;\n manufacture of images, 367;\n funeral customs, 369;\n last visit to, 393\n\n Tayep-parva-la pass, ii. 397\n\n Tea, Tibetan, i. 247;\n monks' fondness for, in Tashi-lunpo, 359;\n enormous infusions of, 361\n\n Tea-pots, costly, i. 350\n\n Teheran, Christmas 1905 spent in, ii. 248\n\n Tela-mata-la pass, ii. 397\n\n Telegrams to British Prime Minister, i. 8, 390\n\n Temperature, sudden change of, i. 75;\n records of low, 155, 173, 199, 207, 258, 274;\n lowest recorded by author in Asia, ii. 259\n\n Temple, lama, i. 42\n\n _Tenga_, Tibetan coin, i. 56\n\n Teri-nam-tso, \"the heavenly lake,\" ii. 381;\n its salinity, 384;\n journey along southern shore, 384;\n different pronunciations, and meaning of the name, 384;\n extent of, and height above sea-level, 384\n\n Terkung-rung valley, Lhasa caravan in, i. 270;\n importance of road through, 270\n\n Teta-la pass, view from, ii. 380\n\n Thakur Jai Chand, Gartok, ii. 107, 215, 417;\n provisions and letters from, 144\n\n Thirteen, the number, prominence of, in author's journey, i. 20, 249;\n ii. 236\n\n Thirty-days' storm, a, ii. 283 ff.\n\n Tibetan Government, the, vindictive treatment of the Governor of\n Naktsang by, i. 243, 251, 376;\n proclamation on retiral of British expedition, 245;\n author visited by two officials from, 375, 376;\n system of spies, 379;\n orders to author to leave the country, 388;\n increased stringency of, regarding Europeans, ii. 356\n\n Tibetan language, author's lessons in, ii. 277\n\n Tigu-tang, dangerous roadway of, i. 430\n\n Tikze, monastery and village of, i. 61;\n camp at, 62\n\n Ting-la pass, view from, ii. 22\n\n Tirtapuri monastery, parting with followers at, ii. 416\n\n Titles, high-sounding, applied to author, ii. 393\n\n Toa-nadsum, bivouac at, i. 262\n\n Tokchen, the Gova of, ii. 107, 110;\n caravan reduced at, 107;\n valley of, 110;\n return to, 400;\n departure from, 415\n\n Tok-jonsung, bivouac at, ii. 91\n\n Tokpas, Tibetan gold-diggers, i. 189\n\n Tombs of the Tashi Lamas, i. 330-338\n\n Tong, the Gova of, i. 424\n\n Tong-tso, bivouac on shore of the, ii. 302\n\n Tongue, protrusion of the, Tibetan salutation, i. 240, 280, 429\n\n Tooth, Mr. Lucas, the last European seen by author for two years, i. 71\n\n Topelius, Christmas song of the poet, quoted, i. 219\n\n Tormakaru, mountain, i. 264\n\n Torno-shapko, unfriendliness of nomads at, i. 217\n\n Totling-gompa monastery, news from the outer world at, ii. 416\n\n Tova-tova, district of, i. 262\n\n Tradum, the Gova of, ii. 60, 69, 70, 73, 83;\n camp at village of, 72;\n excursion from, 73\n\n Tradum-gompa monastery, ii. 73;\n hermit's dwelling at, 73\n\n Trans-Himalaya, the, author's first crossing of, i. 268;\n geographical and climatic importance of, 273; ii. 20, 35;\n approach to main crest of, 13;\n second crossing of, 19;\n third crossing, 35;\n fourth and fifth crossings of, 209, 215;\n sixth crossing, 239;\n its unbroken continuance proved, 330;\n seventh and eighth crossings, 377, 400;\n previous attempts to map out, and books treating of, 401-405;\n Ryder and Wood's bearings of, 405;\n statement regarding wall-maps in Venice, 406;\n principal passes of, 408;\n previously unknown passes crossed by author, 409;\n length and breadth of, and average height of passes, 410;\n general comparison of, with the Himalayan system, 410;\n author's reason for use of name, 412;\n opinions for and against the title, 412, 413\n\n Treaty, new, between Great Britain and Russia, ii. 221\n\n Tree, miraculous, in Kum-bum monastery, i. 335\n\n Tsa-chu-tsangpo, river, junction with upper Brahmaputra, ii. 74\n\n Tsaktserkan, author's official attendant in Shigatse, i. 302, 353\n\n Tsalam-nakta-la pass, ii. 376\n\n _Tsamba_, or parched meal, i. 215\n\n Tsangpo (upper Brahmaputra), river, i. 284;\n formation and fertility of valley, 284, 285;\n varying nomenclature of, 287;\n description of boats on, 288;\n varied scenery of, 290, 293;\n day-dreams on, 291;\n pilgrim parties on, 292, 293;\n dust-storms, 402, 403\n\n Tsasa-la pass, ii. 75\n\n Tsechung-tso, lake, ii. 95\n\n Tsepagmed, seated figure of Buddha, i. 355\n\n Tsering, cook to author, i. 152;\n loquacity of, 157, 161;\n vocal powers of, ii. 13\n\n Tsering Dava, Tibetan nomad, i. 189, 191\n\n Tseti-la pass, ii. 208\n\n Tseti-lachen-la pass, ii. 209\n\n Tso, district of, ii. 80\n\n Tso-kharki-tsangpo, river, ii. 80\n\n Tso-mavang. _See_ Manasarowar\n\n Tsong Kapa, temple of, in Tashi-lunpo, i. 335, 362;\n reforms Lamaism and introduces monastic celibacy, 335\n\n Tsongpun Tashi, merchant from Lhasa, ii. 308, 311;\n purchases from, 315;\n visits our camp, 316;\n his suspicions, 317\n\n Tso-niti, pools of, ii. 93\n\n Tso-niti-kargang pass, ii. 92\n\n Tso-nyak, lake, ii. 106\n\n Tso-ri, or \"Lake Mountain,\" the, i. 219\n\n Tsotot-karpo, lake, ii. 83\n\n Tsukchung-chang pass, i. 417\n\n Tsumtul-pu monastery, bivouac on roof of, ii. 202\n\n Tubges, huntsman to caravan, ii. 323\n\n Tugden-gompa monastery, i. 409;\n statues in, 410\n\n Tugri-la pass, ii. 103\n\n Tugu-gompa monastery, ii. 130;\n wool-market at, 130;\n interesting picture in, 131;\n shrine of lake-god in, 131;\n monks' offering to their god on author's behalf, 145;\n translation of inscription in, 154\n\n Tugu-lhamo, height, i. 206\n\n Tuksum, the Gova of, ii. 86;\n grants permission to author to travel on south side of river, 87\n\n Tumsang valley, i. 268\n\n Tundup Sonam, huntsman to caravan, i. 131, 139, 144, 150, 154, 164, 191;\n despatched to Shigatse, ii. 42;\n his return and adventures, 71\n\n Turkestan, Eastern, ostensible object of expedition, i. 23, 25;\n passport for, requested from Swedish Minister in London, 25\n\n Tuta, camp at, ii. 389\n\n Tuto-pukpa, mountain, ii. 72\n\n Tynchung valley, camp in, ii. 104\n\n\n Ugyu, Tibetan youth, his wonderful recovery from bullet-wound, ii. 46\n\n Ujam-tso, lake, ii. 85\n\n Umbo district, camp in the, ii. 91\n\n Ushy, village of, ii. 361\n\n Ushy-la pass, ii. 361\n\n Utensils, Tibetan domestic, ii. 15\n\n Vezir Vezarat, the, i. 41;\n author's headquarters in house of, at Leh, 45\n\n Viceregal Lodge, Simla, State functions in, i. 12, 17; ii. 420;\n author's quarters in, i. 13; ii. 420;\n description of, i. 14\n\n Vultures, abandonment of Tibetan dead to the, i. 371; ii. 11\n\n\n Waddell, work on Buddhism by, cited, i. 329 _n._;\n opinion on monastic seclusion, ii. 9;\n on Tibetan sacred formula, 204\n\n Wakkha, river, i. 41\n\n Walker, Dr. Gilbert, Simla, presents from, ii. 223\n\n Wallenberg, Herr G. O., Swedish Ambassador in Pekin, i. 391\n\n Wall-paintings in Tugu-gompa, ii. 130\n\n Weather, Tibetan, i. 74, 88, 90, 160\n\n Webber, Thomas, on sources of the Brahmaputra, ii. 89\n\n Whisky, a tonic for mules, ii. 260, 264\n\n \"Wilderness, the call of the,\" i. 1\n\n Wolves, persistency of, i. 143, 168, 178, 198\n\n Women, descriptions of Shigatse, i. 380;\n uniform dirtiness of, 353, 380\n\n Wool-market in Tugu-gompa, ii. 130\n\n Wrangel, Count, Swedish Minister in London, passport requested from, i.\n 25, 299\n\n\n Yaks, as beasts of burden, i. 75, 183, 198; ii. 64, 323, 329;\n abundance of wild, i. 173;\n Rehim Ali's adventure with a, 176\n\n Yalloa-champa, holy apartment in Tashi-lunpo, i. 332\n\n Yamba, lieutenant to chief of Tarok-shung, ii. 390\n\n Yamchuk, village of, ii. 80\n\n Yamchuk-pu valley, ii. 80\n\n Yanggo-gompa monastery, ii. 129, 132\n\n _Yapkak_, plant used as forage and fuel, i. 83, 91\n\n Yere-tsangpo, river, i. 281\n\n Yeshil-kul, lake, view of, i. 119;\n antelope-traps at, 119;\n intense saltness of, 120;\n soundings on, 120;\n choice between shipwreck and wolves, 122;\n storm on, 124;\n a freezing night, 125;\n Deasy's depot discovered by Rawling, 129;\n previous travellers' visits, 130\n\n Ye-shung valley, camp in, i. 281, 409;\n monasteries in, 411\n\n Yildan, hunters from, ii. 275\n\n Yimba Tashi, abbot of Linga-gompa, i. 431\n\n Younghusband, Sir Francis, welcomes author to Simla, i. 6;\n expedition to Lhasa referred to, 11;\n parting with, 20;\n letter as to passport from, 26;\n recommends Muhamed Isa to author, 30, 46\n\n Yulgunluk, ii. 235\n\n Yumba-matsen, ii. 215\n\n _Yungchen_, order of priesthood, i. 351\n\n\n Zambul, _numberdar_ of Pobrang, i. 73, 87\n\n Zoji-la pass, difficulties of caravan in the, i. 38\n\n Zugmayer, Austrian naturalist, i. 130\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n_Printed by_ R. & R. 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