Spied and followed by robbers--Jogpas'
hospitality--Hares--Tibetan charms resisted--Attempt to snatch
Chanden Sing's rifle out of his hands--The ridge between Rakas
and Mansarowar Lakes.
WE wended our way along a narrow valley towards the shore of the Devil's
Lake, halting to cook our food about half a mile from the water's edge,
and I took this opportunity to make observations for longitude. Also
altitude with hypsometrical apparatus. Water boiled at 185° with
temperature of atmosphere at 64°.
I had just repacked my instruments, and was lying flat in the sun, some
distance away from my men, when I thought I saw something move. Jumping
up, I beheld a stalwart Tibetan stealing along the ground only a few
yards away from me, with the object no doubt of taking possession of my
rifle before I had time to discover him. Unfortunately for him, he was
not quick enough, and all that he gained for his attempt was a good
pounding with the butt of my Mannlicher. He was one of the Dakus we had
seen in the morning, and no doubt they had followed and spied upon us all
along. Having got over his first surprise, the dacoit, with an amusing
air of assumed innocence, requested us to go and spend the night in his
tent with him and his mates. They would treat us right royally, he said.
Being, however, well acquainted with the hospitality of dacoits, we
declined the invitation. The brigand went away somewhat shaken and
disappointed, and we continued our journey along the water-edge of the
Devil's Lake (Rakas-tal), where hundreds of hares sprang from under our
feet, several of which I killed with my rifle, using bullet cartridges.
There were signs all along that at some previous epoch the level of the
lake must have been much higher than it is at present.
Marching during the day we encountered many Tibetans, some of whom were
Dogpas, others Jogpas. When they saw us approaching they generally
bolted, driving their sheep or yaks in front of them. Nevertheless, we
came upon two Tibetan women, very dirty, and their faces smeared with
black ointment to prevent the skin from cracking in the high wind. They
were dressed in long sheepskin garments, worn out and filthy, and their
coiffures were so unwashed that they emitted a sickening odour. I ordered
them not to come too near us, for although these females had no claims
whatever to beauty--and, as far as I could see they possessed no other
charm--one being old and toothless, the other with a skin like a lizard,
they actually tried to decoy us to their tents, possibly with the object
of getting us robbed by their men. My men seemed little attracted by the
comical speeches and gestures with which they sought to beguile us, and I
pushed on so as to be rid of this uncanny pack as soon as possible.
Four Tibetans, who attempted to snatch Chanden Sing's rifle out of his
hand, received from him a battering that they were unlikely soon to
forget, and after this we were fortunately left alone for the remainder
of the day. In the evening, Chanden Sing fired at a black wolf which came
close to camp, and I discovered, about one hundred feet above lake-level,
imbedded in the mountain side, a stratum of gigantic fossils, which,
owing to their size and weight, I regretted to be unable to dig out and
carry away.
Feeling almost certain that we were being spied upon all the time by the
numerous Jogpas we had met, we attempted to dodge them by pretending to
encamp before sunset. However, we only lighted a fine fire, and then
after dark escaped, walking and stumbling for several miles, until we
found a spot high on the hillside where we considered ourselves safe.
Snow fell heavily during the night, and, as usual, we woke up with
icicles hanging from our moustaches, eyelashes and hair, notwithstanding
which we really were quite happy and well.
It was my good fortune to make quite sure from many points that, as can
be seen from the illustration reproduced in these pages, the ridge
between the Rakas and Mansarowar Lakes is continuous, and no
communication between the two lakes exists. With the exception of a small
depression about half-way across, the ridge has an average height of
1000 feet all along, a fact which ought in itself to dispose of the
theory that the two lakes are one. I also further ascertained from the
natives that there is no communication whatever between them, though the
depression in the ridge makes it probable that at a very remote period
some connection existed. The lowest point in this depression is over 300
feet above the level of the lake.
[Illustration: A DACOIT]